Dream

Last night I had a strange dream.  The first thing I remember is that I had taken three home pregnancy tests, and they were all positive.  Faint second lines--I understood in the dream that I was testing early--but clearly positive tests.

As I looked at the tests, it became clear to me, in a kind of flash-back fashion, that we had done IVF to achieve this pregnancy.  IVF with my eggs.  In this dream, I knew that we had had a failed fresh IVF cycle with my eggs where we had transferred two embryos with no resulting pregnancy.  The BFPs I was seeing were the result of transferring our one remaining frozen embryo.  On some level, I understood that this IVF cycle and subsequent FET hadn't cost us anything, though I don't know why.

In my dream, I had taken these HPTs early in the morning, and I waited for MM to wake up to share the results.  When he saw the tests, he was not excited.  He just told me, in a very matter-of-fact way, "I'll believe it when you've had a blood test and we see an ultrasound."  (Note: this is contrary to the reaction MM had in real life for my one-and-only-ever BFP in August 2009.)

I remember feeling so happy that we could now use the money we'd set aside for a DE cycle for other things.  We could give my in-laws back the money they had given us to help with our cycle.  My happiness was so genuine that when I woke up and realized this was a dream, I had a moment of disappointment.

One thing that is clear from this dream is that IVF and pregnancy are very much on my mind, even my subconcious mind.  One thing that isn't clear to me, though, is why my subconcious mind apparently thinks pregnancy with my own eggs is still an option (let alone IVF with my eggs).

Odd.

To be or not to be

A parent, that is.

Among those who have contemplated the question "to parent or not to parent"--as opposed to the many people who simply became parents with no advance contemplation of the matter--there appears to be a majority view and a minority view.  There are those who want (or wanted) to have children--the majority--and those who do (did) not--the minority.

Of the people who want(ed) children, there are two subsets, one large, one small.  The larger subset is composed of people who have had children or plan to have children and will have them with little to no difficulty (sometimes referred to here as "fertiles").  The smaller subset is people like me (and most of you reading this blog): people who do not have children, although they want them.  Most articles I have read on the subject refer to the people in this smaller subset as "involuntarily chil.dle.ss."

People who didn't, and don't, want children are voluntarily chi.ldl.ess, or, as I believe is the PC term in some circles, "ch.ild-fr.ee."  By virtue of my desire to have a child, to be a parent, I am clearly not on the same page with those who have remained chi.ldl.ess by their own choice.  I "get" where those who have, or want, children are coming from in a way I don't "get" people who don't want children.

During the time that we have been unsuccessfully TTC, I have often had occasion to reflect on all the people I know, friends and acquaintances, who are parents.  I know I have written on the topic here.  Not surprisingly for someone who is 40 years old (and who has some friends a few years older than she), the majority of my friends who have wanted children, now have them.  Sadly, heartbreakingly, I have a couple of friends who wanted children but couldn't have them.  But most of my friends over 35--even over 30--who are chi.ldl.ess are chi.ldl.ess by their own choice.

I have been surprised, though, to reflect upon the people in my life who do not have children and do not want children.  In many ways, they are not much different from MM and I.  By and large, they are caring and compassionate. . . in any case, no less so than our friends who are parents.  They give back to the community through their jobs and their volunteer work.  Many are enthusiastic aunts or uncles.  They are not more selfish than our friends with children, and they are usually just as busy as friends who have kids. . . just busy with different things.

I understand that the desire to procreate is partly biological.  But what is the difference between "us" and "them"?  Why is it that some people desire parenthood--desire it so strongly that they are willing to go to great lengths and great expense to achieve it--while other people have no desire for it at all?

I don't expect anyone reading this blog to have the answers to these questions.  In a sense, I am posing this question in exactly the wrong forum: among people who desire parenthood.  It's just something I've wondered about.

As much as I want to be a parent, there are times when I have wished I were one of those people who never wanted children.  Because there are few things more painful than hoping for something with all your heart and never having that hope realized, than continuing to try to achieve something when the odds are stacked against you because you cannot bear to give up the trying.

IVF Financing

Does anyone else find it offensive that the same companies who offer loans for IVF are also lending money to people for cosmetic surgery, weight loss surgery, hair restoration, cosmetic dentistry, and LASIK?  I guess that shows pretty clearly where the majority of people classify IVF: under the heading of "things it might be nice to do but are not at all necessary."

I don't know about you, but I don't place treatments needed to attempt to do what most people do without much thought or effort in the same category as medical procedures that are primarily geared toward looking better.  (OK, I suppose weight loss surgery provides a health benefit to people who are morbidly obese and can't lose weight any other way.  So in that sense, that particular procedure is not primarily geared toward looking better.)

Maybe I'm just sensitive about the subject.  It's possible.

P.S.  For what it's worth, I would never take out a loan for cosmetic surgery/dentistry or LASIK.  To me, those are things I'd only do if I had the money in the bank to pay for them.  But that's just me.

Hope reborn

The road that is built in hope is more pleasant to the traveler than the road built in despair, even though they both lead to the same destination. ~Marian Zimmer Bradley


Ever since we made our (rescheduled) appointment for our consultation at our new clinic (hereafter "St. Mungo's," for reasons to be explained soon), I have been feeling very hopeful, sometimes to the point of giddiness.  Maybe it's because for so long I had no hope and had almost despaired of ever being a mother.  Maybe it's because I have spent a lot of time waiting around over the past several months without any action, and it feels good to finally be doing something to move in a positive direction.
 
I saw something today which gave me even more hope.  The SART Report for 2009 is out, and the results (for us) are great!  St. Mungo's has an even higher success rate for 2009 for DE than previously reported: 85% for fresh cycles and 69% for FETs.  Praise technology!
 
When I first started feeling hopeful and excited, my initial thought was to hold myself back.  I mean, the more I get my hopes up, the more I will be disappointed if DE IVF doesn't work, right?
 
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I will be really disappointed no matter what if it doesn't work.  Not only will we have kissed around $30K goodbye (and will be still paying a significant chunk of that total off each month), we will have essentially exhausted all our options. . . . or at least all the options we feel comfortable with and can afford.  Sure, we might get lucky and have some frozen embryos for another try with a FET, or MM may come around to the idea of donated embryos. . . . but as it stands currently, we are pinning all our hopes on this DE IVF cycle. 
 
(We even talked yesterday about the fact that, if a fresh cycle and any subsequent FETs don't work, this is "it" for us.  We will cross that bridge if/when we have to, and I hope we don't come to it.)
 
So I decided I might as well enjoy these positive feelings while they last, since the fall is going to be just as miserable regardless if it fails.  It's been such a long time since I did something to try to get pregnant that I actually thought might work!  Probably since we first started treatment with our first or second IUI, I'd think.

CD 1 again

Yep, the feelings I wrote about in yesterday's post were, in fact, denial.  AF made her unwelcome appearance just before I went to bed last night.  Another short cycle: only 25 days.  Oh well.  Now that we are planning to do DE, the approach of menopause really doesn't matter. . . not that I have any control over it either way.

I had an hour-long phone conversation with the third-party coordinator at our new clinic yesterday.  She was great and answered all of my questions.  I was heartened to learn that she concurred with the reasoning behind my choice of donors, and she had very positive things to say about our first choice donor who, as of yesterday, was available, yea!  (We are using an in-house donor because they have a good in-house program, and it is slightly less expensive--and less cumbersome--than going through an agency.)

I hung up the phone feeling so positive and even a little excited about taking this step.  Yes, I know intellectually that DE may not be a magic bullet for us.  Logically, I realize that a clinic with an 80% success rate still has 1 couple in 5 go home without a take-home baby.  But I feel much better about those odds than I do about anything I've done (or could be doing) with my own eggs.

I can't believe I am looking forward to gambling $30K+ on a treatment cycle.  Infertility has, indeed, warped my brain.

So actually, this month I don't care that it's CD 1 again.  My next CD 1 will be the start of my uterine evaluation cycle, and assuming that goes as planned, the next cycle after that will be coordinating with our donor's to move forward with our treatment cycle.  Even if we hit a snag or two along the way, we are only a few months from FINALLY doing something (again) to actively work toward having a baby of our own. . . . and this time, it'll be something that has a much greater chance of success than failure.

What a good feeling.

In denial

Next month will mark three years since I threw my birth control pills away (and quickly discovered how little I actually needed them).  I started BBT charting that same month, and MM and I have been TTC ever since.

In all that time, we have only ever seen one BFP, and it only lasted a few days.  That pregnancy did not even progress far enough for me to have an ultrasound.

Nearly a year ago, when MM pressed our local RE to give him a "hard number" in regard to our chances of conceiving naturally, he told us about 5% per cycle.  As another year of unsuccessful TTC has since passed, and I am now nearly 40, I can only imagine that our odds of conception have decreased since then.

And yet. . . . we hear of women all the time who conceive naturally against the odds, even in this community.  Circus Princess found herself unexpectedly pregnant naturally against the odds last summer and gave birth to a baby boy a few days ago.  After multiple failed IVFs, R was told she would never conceive using her own eggs and moved on to donor egg. . . . only to get pregnant naturally at Christmas time.  A woman on an egg donation forum I visit recently found out she was pregnant as she was planning her second DE IVF cycle (the first one didn't work).

Couple these against-the-odds natural conceptions with our "unexplained" diagnosis, and I find that, even as I prepare to pursue a DE IVF cycle, I am unable to completely let go of the hope that we will somehow, miraculously, conceive on our own.  As I was looking at the calendar yesterday to try to map out the earliest possible date when I might be able to start a mock cycle to prepare for DE IVF, I realized it was CD 24 for me.  (My cycles are usually 26-28 days long.)  I also realized that the cycle days when I likely would've been most fertile--based on past experience, as I haven't charted for over a year--fell on the weekend and that we did the deed then.

And even as I make logical, well-thought-out plans on how to move forward, a little voice in my mind whispered "Hey, maybe you are pregnant right now, and you & MM will be able to spend that money you have been saving for your cycle for something else!"

Yeah.  Even after three years, even for logical me, on some level, hope springs eternal.

I must be in denial.

"Word of the Day" and my infertility-warped mind

Do any of you subscribe to the Word of the Day?  I started subscribing in law school and continue to receive a word daily in my email.  Often the word of the day is a word I already know, but not infrequently it is a word which is pretty obscure or used primarly in literary contexts.  Sometimes it's a word I don't know at all.

Today's word is desideratum, plural desiderata.  The only place I previously had seen this word was in relation to this poem, and I confess, I didn't really know what it meant.  According to dictionary.com, desideratum means "something desired or considered necessary."

So what was my first thought upon reading this?  "Oh, like motherhood for me."  Yeah.  Warped mind indeed.

I find it interesting that this word couples desire with necessity.  There are certainly many things one might desire which one would not consider necessary. . . . for example, I desire a BMW sedan, but I certainly wouldn't consider it necessary.  I would say the universe of things which are not only desired but also necessary is relatively small.  Hmm.

MM and I had our session with NC yesterday, and it went very well.  I could tell that NC was favorably impressed with MM (who wouldn't be? he is a great guy), and after talking to us for about half the session, she mentioned that she "gets it" now, meaning she sees how our relationship works for us.  MM felt good about the session because there were no surprises--in his opinion, the worst possible thing which could happen at any couples counseling session would be to find out something your wife had told the counselor about you and never told you--and because we were also able to talk in more depth about a couple of things we'd only discussed briefly prior to the session.

The most specific "result" of the session was that we have agreed to set a time limit on the plans we have in the works.  NC pointed out that we have been dealing with IF our entire marriage (and before) and that it probably isn't healthy for me, or for us, to continue dragging this out indefinitely due to MM's concerns about finances.  So we have agreed to continue pursuing our current options--embryo donation and/or a possible shared DE IVF cycle--until this time next year, and if one or the other has not panned out by then, to commit to paying for a cycle of DE IVF on our own, despite the expense.  MM agreed that, though we will try to save what we can toward that cycle over the next year, we will go ahead next year (if necessary) whether we have the entire amount saved or not.

[By the way. . . . if anyone reading this wants to consider sharing a cycle with us or knows someone who does. . . . or, by the same token, has embryos to donate or knows someone who does. . . feel free to email me at the address in my profile.]

So that's where we're at.  I think we are on a path which is a good compromise.  I would like to be moving on with SOMETHING that will make us parents, oh, YESTERDAY, but our current plan also respects the financial realities of our situation (and MM's concerns about debt).

The hardest thing for me about either option--embryo donation or a possible shared DE IVF cycle--is that each relies upon someone else's decision to become a reality.  Someone with embryos would have to decide to donate them to us, or someone would have to come forward willing to share a cycle with us.  I don't do well with things where not only the outcome, but the very start of the process, is out of my control.  But it is what it is.  Good opportunity for some personal growth, I suppose.

Progress

Sweet Georgia posed an excellent question in her comment to my post about how I would feel if I were never a mother: she asked whether I had told MM about the conversation with the counselor.

At the time of her comment, the answer to that question was no.  It wasn't because I was avoiding the topic.  I never have trouble talking with MM about anything, and our infertility has been no exception. . . . but at the same time, it's not a topic I like to bring up unless we both have time and the right frame of mind to discuss it.  With my mother at our house (and the drama at the end of her visit which I wrote about in my last post) and late nights at work all week, there wasn't really an appropriate moment to discuss this with MM until this past Friday night.

On Friday night, we were out for a mini-celebratory dinner (at Outback Steakhouse) because of my mother's departure.  We were both relaxed and unlikely to be interrupted.

I came right out and told him that, while I may have said things in the recent past that might have led him to believe I don't care whether or not we have a child, in actuality, I still really want to be a mother and know I will deeply regret it if I don't do everything I can to make that happen.  I told him I understand his reservations about spending the money that a DE IVF cycle would cost but made it clear that I don't share his concerns.  (I would rather go into *some* debt trying this route rather than just give up.)

I also told him another thing that I told NC: that if it were solely my choice, I would already be signed up as a foster parent for children under age 2, with the hope that perhaps the first (or second, or third) child placed with me would someday be available for adoption.  To me, although this is a risky option in that the child might be returned to the parents or another family member, it is a risk I'd be willing to take.  Becoming a foster parent is practically free, and if the child left our home, at least I'd know I did everything I could to give him/her a good start in life.

MM's response was that he was glad to hear that I still want to be a mother, as he had begun to wonder, based on some of my recent comments.  He "would much rather we have a kid than not," so he feels we are pretty much on the same page.  He stopped short of saying he would "do anything" to make my desire to be a mother a reality (for example, he once again rejected my suggestion that we sign up as foster parents for children under 2, feeling he could not take the heartbreak if the child were removed from our care), but said he would really like to pursue the embryo donation route.

He also said he would be willing to do DE IVF if it were half the cost.  The only way I can think of to make it (roughly) half the cost would be to share a cycle with someone else going through DE IVF. . . . so I am looking into making that possibility a reality along with potentially having embryos donated to us.  (Upside of sharing a DE cycle: the timing is a bit more within our control than with embryo donation.  Who knows when, or if, a couple will pick us to donate their embryos to?)

MM also agreed to go to a counseling session with me.  I framed this as "it will be a big help to me," and that's true.  I also think it could be a help to him.

So while there is still a lot of uncertainty about where we will go from here, it is good to have the lines of communication open and feel that we are working toward a common goal.

Peeling back the layers

I had my session with NC last night.  I brought her up to speed on what happened to spur me to return to counseling: MM's "epiphany" about not wanting to move forward with DE IVF this summer as we had planned, the conversations we have had since about the possibility of pursuing embryo donation, and the thoughts and feelings I've had about all of it.  (My explanation of my thoughts and feelings was pretty to close to what I posted here.)  It was helpful to talk this out with someone who is not only a trained professional but also already knows something about our TTC history and is an objective outsider.

Following the preliminaries, the first question NC asked me was "How do you feel now about never being a mother?"  After I blathered on for a few minutes about the pros and cons of parenthood and how I have gotten to a point where I think I would be OK either way, she stopped me.  She pointed out that I was giving her my THOUGHTS about this, not my feelings.  She reminded me of my tendency to allow logic to rule over my emotions which she had commented on in earlier sessions.  (Very true; I am very much an Overthinker.)

So I paused for a moment and then blurted out the first thing that came into my head: "When I'm on my deathbed--which I hope won't be until I'm at least 75--I know I will regret it if I was never a mother."  And I promptly burst into tears.

That was an "Aha! moment" for me.  I guess I am just weird, but I have a hard time getting through my thoughts about something to my feelings about it.  For a long time, I believed that my thoughts and feelings were basically the same thing, but one thing this struggle with infertility has taught me is that they are not.  I have loads of perfectly logical, rational thoughts about the possibility of never being a mother, which treatment path to choose and the like, but I have found that apart from those well-reasoned thoughts, I also have emotions.  Emotions that are not at all logic or rational, and often are not very comfortable for me.

I am not a person who usually makes decisions driven by emotion.  Even in my love life, the one area where even rational, sane people often allow their hearts to rule over their heads, I have made more logical decisions, based on thought and reason, than emotional decisions.  (For example, I would tell you that I married MM not only because I love him but because marrying him was a smart decision.  I ended my last serious relationship before MM for logical, not emotional, reasons.)  The last emotion-driven decisions I made in my life were probably in my teens. . . . usually with less-than-ideal outcomes, I might add.

However. . . . a dear friend of mine told me once that there is nothing logical about the desire to be a parent.  I am learning all the time just how true her words are.

Unfortunately, because I am infertile and (apparently) unable to conceive a baby on my own, the "natural" way, coming to this realization about what I truly want is not THE answer to my dilemma.  I still have to figure out how I am going to realize my dream of motherhood, and I still have to honor and respect MM's wishes and thoughts about the process.  There are still many, many steps ahead of me along the road.

But it's a start.

Limbo

limbo

[lim-boh]

noun

1. in Roman Catholic theology. . . .

2. a place or state of oblivion to which persons or things are regarded as being relegated when cast aside, forgotten, past, or out of date: My youthful hopes are in the limbo of lost dreams.

3. an intermediate, transitional, or midway state or place.

4. a place or state of imprisonment or confinement.

***************************************

I think the last three definitions of this word do a pretty good job of capturing where I am these days.  More than just being in transition, I feel, at different times, like I have cast aside my dreams of motherhood or that I am trapped/stuck/stymied.

 

My mood and the intensity of these feelings varies from day to day, and sometimes hour to hour.  Sometimes I think "F$%* it!" and want to forget about any more "trying" to become a mother, no matter what the route.  In that mood, I indulge in elaborate fantasies of how I will spend my money if I don't have to spend tens of thousands of dollars on fertility treatments or adoption (and, later, providing for a child): the (luxury) car I will buy, the vacations we will take, the student loans I will repay early.  I remind myself of various comments I've heard from friends over the years: "parenthood is overrated," "stick with dogs, they're easier," "enjoy your freedom," and the like.  I dwell on the negative side of parenting that I am currently avoiding: the sacrifices, the lost sleep, the time it would take away from work, the "I hate you, Mom!"s I would surely hear eventually.

 

Then, at other times, I find myself on the verge of tears, thinking about never having a child of my own.  Oddly enough, this mood doesn't usually hit at times I might expect, like when I hear of (yet another) friend's pregnancy or when I am around small children.  No, sadly (and inconveniently), this mood is more likely to strike on random afternoons when I am at my desk, hard at work on some project. . . . afternoons much like this one.

 

Officially, we are "looking into" embryo donation.  We may well go that route if the right situation presents itself.  I would find that preferable in many ways to trying to adopt a newborn, and as many of you have said, the jump from DE to DEm is a short one for the woman of the couple.  I have drafted a profile for Miracles Waiting (though I have not posted it, as it is way too long and needs extensive editing) and put out feelers through another online connection as well.

 

Unofficially, I am sad and confused about where I want to go from here.  I am tired of dealing with infertility and want to move on with my life.  In the nearly two years I have been writing this blog, so many people I know, both in real life and in this community, have achieved pregnancy, while I have been stuck in the same place.  (Don't get me wrong: I'm happy for those of you in this community who are "livin' the dream."  It just highlights where I'm not.)

 

We are no closer to our goal of becoming parents today than we were when I did my first IUI in April 2009.  In fact, in many ways, it feels like we are much, much farther away, given my ever-advancing age and the fact that we've only ever seen one short-lived BFP in nearly three years of TTC.  In April 2009, I thought we just needed "a little help" to get pregnant and was confident I would be having a baby of my own by the end of the year.  (Ah, the naivete.)  Now I know that the chances of our ever having a child who is genetically related to us both are slim to none.

 

Why is it that so many others seem to see the obstacles in the road as challenges, battles to be fought and won, while I continually wonder if this is the way The Universe has of telling me to take a different path?  Three years ago, I would likely have told you that I wanted to be a mother as much as--if not more than--anyone I know.  Now I question whether my unwillingness to do absolutely anything to achieve motherhood means that I just don't want it as much as others.

 

[SIGH]

The last thing an Overthinker like me ever needed was an extra few years to deliberate on the rightness of a decision.  When I tossed my birth control pills in April 2008, I was excited about becoming a mother.  Realistic, but still excited.

 

Now?  If I could wake up tomorrow and find myself unexpectedly pregnant, I would still be ecstatic.  But I'm just not sure I have it in me to continue fighting this fight. . . . which makes me feel like even more of a failure because, compared to most of the women whose blogs I follow and who leave me comments here, I haven't "done" much.  Though we have been TTC for nearly three years, we only did six treatment cycles, four of them with IUIs in addition to meds.  We have never done (and never will do) IVF with my eggs.  We haven't done a DE cycle.

 

Clearly I am no longer in The Good Place I was before MM decided that he didn't want to spend the money on DE.  I thought I had resolved most of my feelings about my infertility, but now I think all I really accomplished was resigning myself (for lack of a better word) to DE IVF.

 

I am headed back to see NC, my counselor, next Tuesday and am hoping she can help me sort out my feelings.  We shall see.

Another year, same old me

Before infertility, I used to enjoy the end-of-year "look back" and the setting of resolutions or goals for the next year.  Invariably there would be some unpleasant things that had happened during the past year, but more often I would look back with pride on my accomplishments and look forward with hope for doing more and better in the coming year.

Now, after nearly three years of trying unsuccessfully to have a baby of our own, it is very hard to focus on the positives.  I'm sure they are there.  It's just hard to feel good about professional successes and the like when I feel like there is a huge void in my life that may never be filled, that it is beyond my ability to fill.

So here I sit, a few days before the end of 2010, still childless (and still fat, but let's stay on topic).

I hate how infertility has tainted my view of my life.  Let's see if I can come up with something anyway.

Top ten things that happened in my life this year (in no particular order)

1. Visited Disneyland with MM (his first visit)
2. Visited California Adventure for the first time
3. Got a new, better-paying job
4. Hosted my nephew's first visit to Arizona
5. Paid off my car
6. Celebrated my second wedding anniversary with MM
7. Sought counseling about my infertility
8. Saw the child for whom I am a CASA placed in an adoptive home (her third, but it looks like this one is going to work out)
9. Spent my birthday in Las Vegas (for the third time, LOL) and saw the Cirque du Soleil show "O" (awesome!)
10. Spent a summer weekend in San Diego

Top ten things that I would like to do (or see happen) in 2011 (not listed in order of importance or likelihood)

1. Become a mother (this should actually be #1-5. My goal used to be to "get pregnant," but at this point, I am more focused on the end than the means.)
2. Lose weight (on the list again for the nth time)
3. Visit my nephew Rowan at least twice(seeing him three times in a year was on my list for 2009 and 2010.  I fell short of my goal and only saw the little guy twice each year, so maybe twice is more realistic.)
4. Earn a favorable first review (and bonus) at my new job
5. Make it to my third wedding anniversary with MM with our relationship (and respective sanities) intact
6. Take a vacation to somewhere exotic
7. See my father recover fully from his recent extensive shoulder surgery
8. Finally convince my mother to get her own place in Arizona so she isn't at our house for 6-8 weeks every winter.  (If she had her own place, she could stay longer and we'd all enjoy it more.)
9. Celebrate my 40th birthday with my sister.  (This one is going to happen, barring anything radical going wrong; reservations are already made.)
10. Resist the urge to buy a new car

Um, yeah, so. . .

I've been planning for my next post to be an upbeat one about the joys of the season and all that jazz. . . . until MM called me from work yesterday afternoon to say that he's been giving it a lot of thought, and he no longer wants us to do a DE IVF cycle next summer as we'd planned.

I was more than a little surprised, as he had never given me an inkling prior to this that he was on the fence about it.  Sure, I knew he had some reservations about the amount of money we were going to have to borrow to make this happen, but I figured he'd just decided that the risk was worthwhile.  He confessed that he has been going back and forth about whether it's a good idea for a while now but just didn't confide in me because he "wanted to be sure" about how he felt.

Maybe I should've seen this coming when he agreed to look into adoption.  Nothing else could have sent a clearer signal that he had reached a point where having a child who is genetically related to him is no longer as important to him as it once was.

He has not said "no" to a DE cycle, but he has told me that he really, really does not want to spend the money it will cost.  And he won't do it until/unless we have the full amount in the bank (which would take me about a year-and-a-half to two years to save alone, even putting away every spare cent).

He has agreed to my looking into embryo donation/adoption, primarily because it's so much cheaper.  Yet another area I know nothing about and will have to research.  (I'm going to be a friggin' expert on paths to parenthood before I ever have a child of my own!)

I have been really sad about MM's decision, which makes me realize how invested I had become in the idea of doing a DE cycle (and it working).  The idea of doing a procedure with an 80% success rate was (is) so appealing.  Though realistically, I cannot disagree with MM's thoughts that it is just too much money to spend.  Even with help from his parents, doing DE IVF will completely drain our savings and leave us with a significant chunk of debt besides.  I can't say he's wrong to not want to put himself (us) in that financial situation.

So now I don't know what exactly will happen next, when or if we will do a cycle with donated embryos, or whether we will ever be parents.

Welcome back to the world of "who knows what will happen."

Giving up hope

I haven't been posting much, not only because of the fact that I can no longer do so during the day at work, but also because really, I haven't had much to say.  Life has been surprisingly (and blessedly) infertility-angst-free for me of late.  Not sure if that's because we have a plan (albeit one which will not be realized for several months), because I really worked through my feelings of grief and loss in my (four) counseling sessions, or if it's just a temporary glitch.  Whichever the reason is, I'll take it.

I'm doing so well that I was even able to interact closely with an 11-month-old baby at my office today. . . . a baby whose mother is a complete stranger to me, I might add.  (He was the visiting nephew of a coworker I don't really know at my new job.)  And I received the news that the 21-year-old unmarried pregnant file clerk at my office delivered her second child today without much emotion at all.

Years ago, I remember seeing a button (remember when buttons were all the rage?  I may be dating myself here) that said "Since I gave up hope, I feel much better."  Actually, that kind-of sums up my current emotional state.  Since I've given up hope of conceiving a child naturally, with my own eggs and without intervention, I feel much better.

That said, I have not given up hope of parenthood.  No, I confess that I still have hope that DE will make us parents.  We have our initial consultation at our chosen clinic the first Friday in February (I am going to keep the city and clinic names confidential here for privacy reasons, but email me if you are looking for a DE program and are interested), which will be our first step on the path.  (Well, aside from our ongoing plan to save as much of the hefty cost of a cycle as we can.)

I have developed a routine of checking the donor database at our clinic once a day on average, just to see whether any new donors have been added who might fit what we are looking for or whether any of our "favorites" have cycled or been taken out of the database.  "Checking up on my girls," I call it.  It's odd and comforting at the same time.

So that's where I'm at.  Life in general is busy and full, but life on the TTC front is quiet.

Letting go

Thank you for all your comments about my husband.  I am happy to report that he was released from the hospital over the weekend and has continued to make steady improvement since then.  He is more tired and weak than usual but otherwise mostly back to normal.

I had my third counseling session yesterday.  I was proud that I didn't cry at all!  (I did tear up a time or two, but no tears actually fell.)  We talked about what practical steps I could take to become OK with the idea of doing DE IVF, and I think she was surprised to learn that I have already taken many of them. . . . . reading up on what is involved and how the procedure works; joining a forum of other parents who have used or are using DE; choosing a clinic; "shopping" for a donor.

We talked a bit about my anger at having to use this path to achieve pregnancy.  (Yes, I know I am lucky to have this as a viable alternative, but I am still angry about having to use it also.)  My "homework" for the week is to write down daily something that I am willing to "let go" of in order to pursue DE, i.e., "I am letting go of my anger at having to spend $35K on DE IVF instead of a new car" or "I am letting go of my anger at not being able to conceive 'naturally'."

She also gave me a book to read, and I will write more about that once I've read the chapters she suggested.

Overall, I do feel that I am coming to terms with this situation.  Although I sometimes chafe at the (necessary) delay, I do think that the fact that I have to wait until next summer to pursue DE IVF for financial reasons is affording me some much-needed time to be completely on board with this option.

One thing I brought up at the end of the session that I wanted to discuss in future is the whole "to tell or not to tell" question.  So far, only my BFF, sister, mother and in-laws know we are seriously considering this option.  (Well, and all of you, of course.  And those of you who know me in real life I trust to keep this to yourselves.)

My biggest quandary is whether and when/how to tell my father.  As I've written about before, he and his wife are on limited information status and don't even know about our IF.

We will discuss that in more detail at a future session, and I think MM will need to be a part of this discussion, if for no other reason than because we are not on the same page about this.

So, dear readers. . . . if you feel comfortable, share something in the comments that you have had to "let go" of on your IF journey.  I know I am not the only one who is not able to take her preferred path to parenthood. . . . .

EDITED TO ADD:  Oh, I almost forgot!  Yet another law school classmate announced her pregnancy on FB this morning, and for the first time in ages, it didn't feel like a punch in the gut.  (And she isn't even a close friend or anything.)  Hmm.  Maybe I am making some progress in dealing with my feelings.

"How do you feel?"

My counselor posed this question to me yesterday at our session, just after I read the letter I had written to my hypothetical future biological child.  I am puzzling over why this is a hard question for me to answer.

I responded that I felt sad and drained. . . . and more, that I just want to stop focusing time, effort and energy on my inability to conceive.   I have felt the last part of this answer for quite a while.

I recognize that my life, as is, is far from empty.  Quite the contrary.  Aside from weighing more than I would like, I can honestly and wholeheartedly say that, apart from our continued childlessness (which may continue indefinitely), my life is not only good but excellent.

I am working in a field I enjoy and have just accepted a new position about which I am very excited.  When I contrast how I felt about my previous career in nursing at six years into practice with how I know feel about being a lawyer, there is simply no comparison.  In my old career, by the time I reached six years in that field, I knew that I had to do something else, for my own sanity.  (I had, in fact, already started the process of applying to law school.)  I dreaded going to work many days.  At some jobs, I literally had near-panic attacks on my days off at the mere thought of going back to work.

So not only do I finally have a career I like that suits me, I am also in a position to truly grasp and appreciate what that means for my daily life.  I can think of things I might "love" to do more, but law suits me, and the pay is more than sufficient to my needs.

I am happily married.  No, marriage has not been a bed of roses for MM and me, particularly since we have been dealing with IF from day one--we started TTC months before we married and had already had an initial visit with the RE prior to our wedding--but I do truly believe that our relationship has been strengthened by what we have been going through (and continue to go through).  We have had to talk more about our feelings, and our hopes and dreams for the future, because of IF.  Due to our personalities, there is a constant need for compromise, but we make it work.  Being with MM feels more natural to me than I have felt in any of my (many) prior relationships, and I know he feels the same.

In addition to having the big two pieces of my life--work and home life--going extremely well, I am fortunate to have living parents with whom I have good relationships; a sister who is a close friend; an adorable nephew; in-laws with whom there is mutual respect and affection; many wonderful friends; meaningful volunteer work; two wonderful golden retrievers; a paid-off car that still runs well; and relative financial comfort.  

In truth, it almost seems wrong to me that I spend so much of my time and mental energy focusing on the one area of my life in which things are not going my way.  (Heck, I am even losing weight at the moment, though I know that is something I have always struggled with and probably will my whole life.)  I am not without gratitude for the many good things my life, and I shudder to think how much harder IF would be for me were not the rest of my life just as I want it to be, but the constant struggle makes me feel decidedly unappreciative.

At this point, even more than the longing for a child of our own, I long to put all this behind me.  I am tired of our infertility sucking the joy out of my wonderful life.  I want to move on from all this, whatever the outcome.

Don't get me wrong. . . . . I would certainly prefer to move on with the outcome being parenthood for us at the end of the road.  But I do honestly feel that I am at a point where I just want to be done with "trying" to conceive. . . . because I know that if I am no longer "trying," I will no longer be failing.  Failing gives me a negative focus and brings me down.

So. . . . I don't know how to put a label on that feeling.  "Fed up"?  "Done"?  "Ready to move on"?

It's time for a new focus, and for me, it can hardly come soon enough.

One of those days

Just when I think I am doing well coping with my emotions about being unable to have a child of my own, I have a day like today.  I woke up feeling exhausted and a little headache-y, despite a full night's sleep, only to see on Fac.ebo.ok the announcement of another birth (the third in less than a week!) and another pregnancy.  And the new father and mother-to-be have birthdays today, so they are getting even more than the usual amount of comments on their announcements.  Ugh.

(Oh, and lest anyone once again think/say "You don't know what they went through to get pregnant," um, yeah, I do.  None of the three people who have had children this week had any problems conceiving them, and the woman who announced her pregnancy basically came out and said it was an "oops". . . .her daughter is only 6 months old, and her children will be only a year apart.)

Couple all this with the fact that I am working on a couple of annoying projects at work and still waiting anxiously to find out about the other job I'm hoping to get, and it's shaping up to be a craptastic day.  Man, do I wish I still drank coffee!!

I realized belatedly that I forgot to write about the "homework" my counselor suggested for me.  We talked a little bit about whether I had thought about and pictured what my future child would look like and be like.  I don't know about you, but um, yes, I have thought about this, many times, both before meeting my husband and since.

She suggested I get a doll or photo or something else that symbolizes the image I have in my mind of that child and then write a letter to her (yes, for me, it's a her), explaining how I feel about the fact that we will probably never meet.  She said that the purpose of this exercise is to help me to let go of this (theoretical, future) child so that I will be open to the child who is "supposed to" come to me/us.

I can see the usefulness of this exercise.  So far, I have only gotten as far as searching the internet to see if I could find a photo which matches my mental image, and I haven't yet.  I may work more on this project this weekend.

I must get back to work, as I am momentarily quite busy.  I will get through today by reminding myself that things always seem to get better eventually.

First counseling session

I had my first session with the counselor today, as planned, and I liked her.  I will definitely be going back.

Interestingly, she has been a counselor for 20 years and has also had her own struggle with IF, which (luckily) ended happily with the birth of a child.  Since that time, counseling people dealing with infertility has been a special interest of hers, because when she was going through IF, she found a dearth of qualified professionals who could truly understand what she was going through.  (And by coincidence, she and her husband were treated by the same RE as us.)   She has also counseled at least five couples who have gone the DE IVF route.

Naturally, most of the session was taken up with my bringing her up to speed on me and on where we are with our infertility.  We talked a lot about my marriage, our "unexplained" diagnosis, our TTC history, and our contemplation of DE IVF, as well as a little bit about my personal and family background.

Embarrassingly, I started crying within the first ten minutes of the session and ended up crying off and on, about half the session total.  (My eyes are still puffy and scratchy, and I left with a mild headache from all the crying!)  At one point when I was crying, she asked what I was thinking, and I told her honestly that I felt embarrassed about falling apart in front of her.  I mean, even though she is a professional counselor, she is also a total stranger, and this meeting was our first.  Not surprisingly, she didn't think I had any need to feel embarrassed, but I did.  It is just so uncharacteristic for me to break down like that.

Afterward, on the way home, I hit one of my favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurants for my form of comfort food.  LOL.  I have been working diligently on eating better and losing weight, and making some progress, but much as I hate to admit it, fatty, carb-rich foods do make me feel better when I'm down, at least temporarily.

I suppose the fact that I cried so much, and so easily, in such an unaccustomed way, just goes to show how much I am holding back some strong emotions and how much I need to be getting help from an objective third-party to work through them.  I do genuinely feel that I am coping well most of the time, but today showed me how powerful my emotions really are and how strongly they can affect me when I let them rise above the surface.  It felt odd to open up about my feelings of hopelessness, sadness and loss, but good in a way, cathartic.

My primary goal is to work through my feelings of sadness and grief at the prospect of never having my own biological child so that I can work toward accepting other paths to parenthood.  (Currently, given my husband's feelings on the matter, that will mean DE for us.)  I feel that I cannot, in good conscience, go ahead with plans for anything until I have come to terms with this loss.  So I hope that I will be able to do this successfully.

In a mood

(Ranting ahead.  You've been warned.)

I'm not sure what brought this on, but for some reason, I am in a really angry mood today about being infertile.  I just want to pimp-slap every fertile I know. . . . like the high school classmate who has four children with her much-older husband and told me "____ just has to drop his pants on the bed and I'm pregnant."  She is 40, and her youngest is a year old.

Or the former classmate who had a baby a little over three years (when she was unmarried and he was adopted by a couple) who recently announced that she was pregnant and due almost exactly nine months after her recent wedding date.  My, aren't you the fertile one!  Pregnant on the honeymoon.

Or the perfectly nice law school classmate of mine who felt the need to inform us all (via Fac.ebo.ok) of the results of her 20-week ultrasound today with her second.  Her daughter is 15 months old, and her son is due in January.  How wonderful for you, one of each!  Now your family is complete.  (Side note: for those of you who may be thinking "You don't know what she went through to achieve her pregnancy, yeah, I do.  For #1, she used a Clear Blue Easy Fertility Monitor and it took "a long time," i.e., several months.  #2 "just happened" but was a "welcome surprise.")

Honestly, I know intellectually that none of this is directed at me.  I know that these women cannot help being fertile, and in fact, I have no reason to believe that they are (or will be) anything but terrific, loving, caring mothers.  I mean, if I'm going to be outraged, wouldn't it make more sense to be angry at people who beat or neglect their children?  Or who carelessly fail to supervise them so that they drown in a backyard pool?  Both these scenarios are frequently on the news where I live.

Abusive or neglectful parents *do* outrage me, but on a totally different level.  I am angry at these other women because I can relate to them and because THEY HAVE WHAT I DON'T, what I may never have.   (I can't relate to the abusive or neglectful parents.) Even if I am ultimately successful in conceiving a child, carrying to term, and delivering a healthy baby, I will still never know what these women have. . . . because getting to that point will have been so long and hard for me.  Even if we become parents via DE IVF, I will never have the feeling that comes from just getting pregnant from having sex with my husband. 

Actually, to be more precise, I am not really angry at these women, or at pregnant or fertile women in general.  I am envious of them and am angry at The Universe, G-D, Fate, or whatever entity has decided that I cannot be part of their club.

EDITED TO ADD:   I categorically reject the notion that there is some "meaning" in my/our going through this.  Having married at age 37, I would have been more-than-usually appreciative of the opportunity to finally be a mother even if it had come easily.  While I don't doubt that I have learned some lessons from IF--because any intelligent, introspective person learns things from adversity--I in no way think this experience has been "necessary" to my growth as a human being.  It's so entirely unfair.

Hope springs eternal

I woke up yesterday with a headache and a little nausea.  Despite a full night's sleep, I felt achy and tired.  So I decided to take a sick day.  Later in the morning, I also had some, um, other GI upset a ways south of nausea.

I felt better by the mid-afternoon, and when MM came home from work yesterday evening, he said "Maybe you're pregnant."  At which I laughed and said "Wow, hope really does spring eternal for you, doesn't it?"

I find it amusing that MM still has hope that we will conceive a child together naturally after all this time and (failed) effort.  I think we are on about cycle #30 TTC.  I truly cannot fathom where his optimism comes from, as he is not generally an optimistic person by nature.  I guarantee that, were he looking at other people in our same situation, he would deem them hopeless. . . . and yet apparently he still thinks that a miracle is going to happen for us.

Today is CD 22, and if I interpret my one OPK which looked to be almost-positive-but-not-quite as a positive, today would be about 9 DPO.  Normally, I wouldn't be expecting my period until Monday at the earliest, but as I've mentioned here before, my last two cycles were only 25 days and 22 days long. . . . so realistically, AF could arrive at any time.

Don't get me wrong: I would be ECSTATIC if I found out I was pregnant!  Not only would it be absolutely lovely to become a parent in the way I'd always dreamed of--through sex with my spouse, producing a child with our combined genes--we could also then put the thousands of dollars we've earmarked for a DE IVF cycle toward other things.

As wonderful as that would be, though, I basically have zero hope that it will happen at this point.  Funny, because while I am certainly no Pollyanna, I tend to be more optimistic and positive generally than my husband.  Except, apparently, on this one point.

P.S.  I spoke to the DE coordinator at one of our top choice clinics yesterday to get an idea as to timeline, etc.  We are working on the theory that, if we decide to go ahead, we will do a DE cycle sometime in summer 2011.

Online shopping/dating

One of the clinics I am seriously considering for DE IVF has allowed me access to their donor database even though we are technically not yet official patients of the clinic.  I love the set-up of their site, and they provide a lot of detailed information about the donors. . . . including their psych evals and other personal information.

But I can't help but feel like I am shopping for a mother for our child.  Or browsing profiles on an online dating site.  It's an odd feeling.

(It's weird, too, how a number of the donors on the site were born after I graduated from high school.  Wow, nothing like THAT to make me feel especially old!)

I know that, should we go through with DE IVF (and it's looking more and more like we will), I will feel that the child is totally mine, regardless of the lack of my genetic material.  At this stage, though, while thinking about eventually choosing a donor, it's a little surreal.

I have kept both my parents out of the loop for a while in regard to our TTC efforts.  I talked in detail here about why my father is on limited information status (to put it in a nutshell: his wife has a big mouth), and my mother tends to be fairly self-involved in general and had said some hurtful things to me in the past.  (To be fair to my mom, I don't think she meant to hurt my feelings; she just really cannot relate to my being infertile, since she always had the opposite problem during her own reproductive years.)

This past Saturday, I decided I would tell my mom that we are seriously considering DE IVF, and the news was very well received.  She said she thinks it is great that the technology exists for us to pursue this option and that she thinks we are smart to do it, even though it is very expensive.  I swore her to secrecy, and unlike my stepmother, I know that she can keep a secret.  (She has told some extended family about our IF, which I am OK with. . . . I just don't want her telling anyone about the DE possibility until we've decided how we want to handle that.)

My first appointment with the counselor is on 9/12, and I am eager to get started on the emotional work necessary for me to feel 100% OK with pursuing DE.  MM and I also had a long talk about my decision to go to a counselor and why I made it, and in the course of that discussion, he came to some interesting realizations.  I may write more about that in a future post, but suffice it to say, DE IVF remains his preferred next step for us.