Finding the Center

I woke up this morning and couldn't find the energy to get out of bed. Luckily, I didn't have to being this is the last week of summer vacation. So I laid in bed wallowing in self pity. John took responsibility for the dogs, and I texted with my Local Dreamers through our Facebook Chat. I love those ladies so much.

Finally, I made the decision that I didn't want to feel down in the dumps like that for the rest of the day. It was time to get up and put myself together. So I got out of bed, made some breakfast, and made a journal entry to my fabulous pen pal.

My journal entry to my awesome pen pal, Say1009 :)

It was so therapeutic to write out the events of yesterday in the old fashioned way with pen and paper. I only skimmed the surface with yesterday's blog post (Well Shit.) so I was able to go a little deeper with the entry. My emotions are so complicated and jumbled up... it always takes me so long to sift through and figure out what I'm feeling inside.

After my journal entry, I did an hour of Fertility Yoga. Let me tell you... this DVD is amazing. It may not actually "increase blood flow to the reproductive organs thereby increasing fertility" but it does clear my mind and help me get centered. I feel like the stress and sadness has been lifted outside of my body. It is still there; but now it's hanging over my head rather than festering within my body, mind and soul.

I felt so good yesterday when John & I made our Plan B decision. I felt like it was final, and maybe I could rest easier (and sleep at night) knowing that we have a good plan. But that was before we got the call from the doctor to cancel IUI#4. I wonder if we're jumping the gun going to IVF so soon. But at the same time, I feel like all signs are and have been pointing us in this direction all along. 

I don't know how much longer my fragile spirit can endure failure... I firmly believe that we will have a baby. But when? Will I break before then? When it finally happens, will I have lost myself so much that I won't come back? I like the person I was before all of this started... going back to our horrible house hunting "adventure" in March 2011... 

Listing our condo; finally getting a realistic offer in October 2011; bidding on a house and getting to a week before closing before it fell through in January 2012; deciding to go forward with the sale of our condo and frantically moving into an apartment while we house hunted all over again; days turning into weeks into months with nothing out there; looking at over 100 houses and only finding disappointment; bidding on two houses where we couldn't make a deal because the sellers were going through a bitter divorce and couldn't agree on accepting our offer; finally finding our house in April 2012 and making a deal; feeling like at any moment we would get a call telling us it had fallen through; holding our breath while going through the motions again of attorney review and inspections; finding out one week before our closing date that there was a problem that would delay the process; finally getting the keys to our house on June 18, 2012. 

Selling and buying a home was stressful and horrible and rolled right into this even more stressful and horrible journey with TTC. I feel like I haven't been myself since January 2012 when the shit hit the fan and our deal fell through. Those were some dark days... with a little ray of sunshine when we finally bought our house in June 2012... which was quickly dissolved back into darkness in October 2012 when I realized that we had been off the pill for over a year and actively TTC for half a year without any success.

Do you think after you get through such a long and deep personal crisis that you could ever be the same again? And more importantly, do you think it'll be possible to be happy, positive, and hopeful again? 

Well Shit.

IUI#4 is canceled. I went to my monitoring appointment this morning. I had 11 measurable follies and more that weren't worth measuring because they were too small.

We made a trip down to my parents' house. Poor Coda got car sick almost instantly. John and I had a serious and honest conversation about our next plan. We decided that if insurance would allow it we do IVF. After we finished discussing that, John asked me if I was having a good or bad IF day. I said I was ok, and he asked if he could share news. I said, "Is someone pregnant? What is their relationship to us?" He tells me yes and there is no relationship. Ok, I figure I could handle it, so I told him to lay it on me. His best friend's wife is pregnant. WTF, Johnny?! You made it sound like I didn't even know this person. We arrive at my parents' house. Ten seconds before opening the car door, Coda pukes in the car. Greaaaaaaat. Then the icing on the cake: I get the call from my doctor. We are canceled. I'm instructed to take the Ovidrel tonight and do TI every night through Saturday. All of the above occurred within an hour of each other. 

I am mad. Sad. Disappointed. Deflated. Defeated.

Surprise! Surprise!

Don't get too excited. It's not THAT surprise (dammit, I wish). There's actually no surprise here whatsoever. Of course I over responded to the (too high) dosage of Follistim. I don't know why my doctor started me out with two nights of 150iu especially after my crazy high response to all three clomid cycles.

I got a call from the nurse on CD5 after my blood work to decrease my dosage to 100iu then 75iu the next two nights. I asked what my E2 levels were... at baseline on CD2 it was 36 and on CD5 after only two doses of Follistim it was 290. Yeesh! Ok, so lower dose and an ultrasound with more blood work in two days. 

That brings us to today, CD7. My ultrasound showed SEVEN measurable follies. One on my left side (13mm) and six on my right side (13, 12, 14, 14, 10 and ??mm). Krikey!!

The doctor told me that he'd call me after he looked at my blood work, but there was a chance that we might have to cancel my IUI. If all seven follies matured and released eggs... well, I'd rather not be an incubator for seven fetuses for nine months (let alone sell my soul to be able to afford seven children). But of course I felt defeated at the thought that we might get canceled. 

The good news was that my E2 was only up to 570. My doctor explained that he likes to see that number stay under 1,000. So he feels we still have some room to work with. He prescribed me to take the Cetrotide to slow things down and 50iu of Follistim this evening. Tomorrow I go back for another ultrasound and blood work. 

There's still a chance that we may get canceled (like if I have more than 3-4 mature follies or my E2 level goes over 1,000) but my doctor seems to think we will be good to go for our IUI on either Saturday or Sunday. That means that if this cycle is a bust (please no!!) then it will be the shortest cycle in my whole life. The IUI will be on CD10 or 11, plus an 11 day LP... I hope we make it beyond CD21 (as in, pleeeease let me get KU from this!!!). 

Wish me luck that we don't get canceled!!

Decisions.

As you may know from reading my blog, I've been having an internal struggle with the upcoming NYC Marathon. In 2012, I spent the whole year earning a spot into the race through their 9+1 program (run nine NYRR races, volunteer at one). Back in May, I registered for the spot because I didn't want to lose it, and over the course of the past several months it has become an enormous source of stress.

I do not believe that I can adequately prepare to run a marathon on November 3, 2013 while dealing with infertility at the same time. I've already overtrained and injured my ankles because I've been trying to force long runs back into my routine after a three month hiatus. With ten weeks to go until race day, I must throw in the towel. I want to cry because I feel like I'm giving up.

I have two options at this point. 1) I can defer the spot to 2014. I will not get a refund for this year's race fee ($227) and I will have to pay again next year to keep my spot. 2) I can give my bib to a friend and be done with it. NYRR does not do bib transfers, so I'd have to do this under the table.

Option 1 makes me uneasy because what if I'm pregnant or newly postpartum at the time of the 2014 race? Also, it makes me mad about wasting money. Option 2 also makes me uneasy because I'm a rule follower... I don't like being shady. No matter what way you look at it, I'm in a lose-lose situation.

In the end, I have decided that I am not running the 2013 New York City Marathon. I have a friend who is willing to take my bib, and she said she'd even be willing to take it at the last minute. If I'm pregnant by November, then I will defer the spot and use the 2014 marathon as my comeback race. If I'm not pregnant by the November, then I will give my bib to my friend and cheer her on from the sidelines. At least the spot will go to good use.

This decision breaks my heart and liberates my spirit at the same time. I am not a quitter. I do not give up. And I am NOT quitting. I am NOT giving up. I will run more marathons than I can count when I finally make it to the other side of the rainbow. It will be challenging to keep up my training while being a mother, but I will persevere. Infertility does not win. Infertility sucks and I hate it, but infertility is a loser.

Watching the Clock

I feel like I'm just watching the time tick by. Everything about TTC is so slow. I'm still confused about what to do for the next cycle if this one fails (I hope it won't!). Injects + IUI or IVF... what would you do??

I'm getting ready to do my second injection of this cycle. Follistim 150iu. I'm going to line up all my lucky charms, play my lucky song, and stick it at 7:37pm (two lucky numbers!). I am literally watching the clock... And if I'm not watching the clock, I'm checking my cycle calendar... Sigh.

Injects in da House

Today goes down in the history books as the most expensive day of the 2013 Team Zazza Summer. I am so thankful for the outstanding insurance coverage that we have, but the prescription plan is a complete PITA. I have to pay 100% OOP for all medications, and get reimbursed for the covered amount at a later date. I am still waiting for the reimbursement check from May, June & July's Ovidrel...

Anyway, I went directly to the pharmacy to pick up my order, and was so moved to see the quote they have as a wall decal above the door.

Everyday holds a possibility of a miracle

I am also wayyy too excited about the nifty little case that comes with the Follistim pen. The first injection starts tonight. I plan to stick it at 7:37pm because those are my lucky numbers. I also plan to make a smiley face around my belly button over the course of the week and a half with all these injections.

***The above paragraph goes to show how much of a dork I really am.

I hope this works! Think good thoughts tonight at 7:37pm!

Facade

Yesterday was a tough day. I went in for my baseline appointment to get an ultrasound and blood work first thing in the morning. Then I picked up the dog and we made the trip to go to work at my brother's camp.

Coda had a very rough car ride. He got sick twice, so I pulled over and held a bag for him. I almost caught it all, and just felt so awful for him. When we got to camp, Coda was extremely scared. I tied him out next to the field, but every time I walked away he barked and whined. It broke my heart, so I took him to the cabin and set up his crate. He didn't want to leave the crate all day.

While I was "working" on the field, I couldn't help but to be totally distracted. I felt like I was torn in two. My body was present, but everything else was far, far away.

I was waiting on the pharmacy to call me back and let me know when my meds were ready to pick up. I was also bracing myself for the final cost. I knew it would be expensive, and while I am tremendously grateful for my insurance, my prescription plan is a complete PITA (I have to pay 100% OOP and then get reimbursed 80% later. I am still waiting to be reimbursed for the Ovidrel from May 4th).

I got the call from the pharmacy and, gulp, the final bill for the Follistim, Cetrotide and Ovidrel comes to over $3,000. The shock is still setting in. My pregnant SIL was at the rehearsal when I got off the phone with the pharmacy, so I told her what was going on. Her jaw dropped when I told her how much the meds cost. She asked, "Is it really necessary to use the medication? What happens if you don't do it?" I told her about our piddly 2% chance of success if we tried naturally. No medical intervention is not an option.

I tried to focus on my work for the rest of the day, and the rest of the staff I'm sure knew something was going on. I haven't told them, but they've all been very respectful of my distance. I already feel sad, guilty and left out because I am not continuing with the rest of the season.

When it was finally time to go home, I packed up the car and buckled Coda in. His expression made me feel terrible. He hates the car, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I'd have to pull over and hold a bag for him.

We made it home, and I unpacked the car. I dinged the side of my car with Coda's crate. When I went to assess the damage, that's when I lost it. I came completely unraveled, and spent the rest of the night ugly crying my eyes out. My stress level was so high, I needed to take something off my plate.

I called my brother and told him that I wouldn't be coming back to camp. He understood immediately and told me to take care of myself. I'm certain that my emotional phone call made him uncomfortable, and all he wanted to do was fix the problem as quickly as possible. He let me off the hook without a second thought.

I spent the rest of the night talking to some of my fellow Dreamers. I would be lost without them. Then John got home from his long day of work. It felt so good to snuggle up to him and talk everything out. I love him so much.

I didn't even see this meltdown coming. I guess I have been putting up a facade for so long that I was starting to think I really was ok.

I think I feel unsettled because we don't have a solid back-up plan if this cycle doesn't work. I hope and pray that it does, but after all of the failures we have faced I can't even imagine what life will be like after we get to the other side. I feel lost and confused. I don't recognize myself anymore. I wonder if I'll ever come back when all of this is over.

I thought writing all of this out would make me feel better... but scrolling up and seeing all of that text without a conclusion makes me feel even more lost.