And Finally, the Fun Update

We're pregnant!

Glad that's out of the way ;)

The truth is, we found out I was pregnant when I was admitted to the hospital back in October (for OHSS). In fact, we had an idea even before that, from the blood test in the E.R. two days before. My hcg was a 7. (Anything over a 5 is considered a pregnancy.) But nobody could know 100% that it wasn't just leftover in my system from the trigger/Ovidrel shot.. since that's just an injection of hcg. Still, my fertility specialist told the E.R. doc over the phone, "I don't think it's the shot. I think she's a little bit pregnant."

That phrasing made me giggle, I'll admit.

But two days later, when things got really bad and I had to be admitted, they did another blood draw.. and my hcg had gone up. I was preggo. Doc kept joking, "I just don't know with how many."

But we wouldn't find that out for a few weeks. And it was hard to celebrate or be excited in the way one who is trying to conceive always envisions. I had all these ideas on how to announce to my husband when we finally found out. Instead, I had to mutter it from a hospital bed with an IV in my arm. And neither one of us wanted to get too attached to the idea, given everything that was going on at the time.

And a couple days into my hospital stay, I started spotting. I freaked out. Of course I acted like I wasn't too concerned with the nurses and doctors. No idea why. Guess I didn't want to be the emotional/irrational patient.. since I know that, logically, spotting can be completely normal. But I would start to cry whenever I was alone the room. And it wasn't so much that I was 'attached' to the pregnancy, but I didn't want to have to go through it all again, and I didn't want to tell my husband that something had gone wrong.

Luckily, it subsided after just a little more than a day, and my doctor had no concerns whatsoever. "If this wasn't a relatively strong pregnancy, you wouldn't be having this extreme hyperstimulation."

And that's the part I couldn't tell you in the previous chapters, since we hadn't announced yet. If a woman gets hyperstimulation, and she ends up being pregnant, the symptoms and degree of it become much worse. The hormones released during early pregnancy actually prolong the condition. (Yay me!)

So, it was definitely a strange place to be in. "Yes, you're pregnant. But because of that, you're going to feel TERRIBLE for a few weeks, and take a few months to completely recover."

Two weeks after being discharged from the hospital, we had our first ultrasound. And as Brad and I just tried to take it all in, having no idea what this part was going to be like, the doc immediately says, "Oh yeah, there's two."

My husband's face had no reaction. Shock, I'm guessing. I laughed, but inside I was scared shitless. No, really. I don't want to sound ungrateful, but I was terrified. I immediately knew my chances of a natural birth just went down greatly; a home birth was all but out of the question. Two things that I really, really wanted. Finances were going to be hit hard -- really hard. And I was completely overwhelmed with the idea of trying to feed, bathe, soothe, etc. two babies at once.

I'm not sure I'm any less panicked at this point, but I'm trying to just roll with it and accept it. I know that all new soon-to-be parents get a little anxious. I just feel like my anxiety is squared :P

But at the same time, I'm so excited. To see my husband as a father for the first time. To hear a giggle fit down the hallway. To hear someone call me "Mommy."

At this point, I want to send out a HUGE thanks to every person who donated, wished us well, prayed, or provided any level of support. It meant the world to us. And as it turned out, the first cycle of injections that we raised money for.. clearly worked ;)

So, fingers crossed and knock on wood... Our little wish has been answered. Twice. <3

And these are our video announcements:

Third Time

I know it's been awhile.

We took a break for a bit. Then decided to wait til my mother had moved out to try again. My stress level was just always so high when she was around.. nevermind the logistics of TTC with mother down the hall :P

So, we've officially started our third attempt with Letrozole/Femara.

A little scary. Since the first cycle, we got a follicle. The second one, we didn't. And the doc said that he only wants to give it three tries.

Problem is, we can't really afford the next (bigger, badder) options. The Femara alone, once you add in the monthly ultrasounds and the trigger shots, is around $300-$400 per attempt. That seems plenty high to me.

The injection rounds are somewhere in the thousands of dollars. Eh. Doubtful.

So, we'll see how this goes. And then how pathetically the doctor will look at me when I try to explain that daily injections and IVF are not options for us.

Wedding Cake and Hot Flashes

My last post was fairly brief, and only said that the cost of one of my meds had gone down and that I had another ovarian ultrasound coming soon. Well, that ultrasound was today... but before I get to that, let me set up this cycle a bit.

This time around, I wasn't stressing at all. In fact, there were a couple times I almost forgot to take my meds; it was so far in the back of my mind. I also almost forgot what day my ultrasound was on. Being less 'aware' and focused on the calendar, made this cycle a little easier to get through in general.

This past weekend, my husband and I were at a wedding. A couple there, that we're friends with, had also been going through issues with infertility. The wife blurted out that she was now almost 3 months pregnant. She thought I had already been told, but I hadn't. So, I was surprised.. sure. Upset? No. In fact, the only thing that bothered me was that when I congratulated her, I could see the pity on her face.. but it was different from the usual. This was someone who could empathize with how it felt to be trying and failing to get pregnant. She was afraid to look happy in front of me, because she didn't want to rub it in my face. I reassured her that it was okay, and that I was sincerely happy for them.

And, I was telling the truth. I didn't feel even the slightest wave of jealousy.. but as I started contemplating the whole weekend. First, finding out our once 'infertile' friends were pregnant, the next day being Mother's Day, followed by my ultrasound.. it felt like there was a rock sitting in my gut. I wasn't mad, nervous, or jealous. Just uncomfortable.

I was aware that I hadn't felt any sharp pains, like I had with the first cycle on these meds.. so I was betting they hadn't worked. That's my pessimistic nature, anyway.

This morning (CD10), as I was leaving to go to my appointment, my husband said, "Hope we get good news."

Ugh. Why did he have to say that? At that point, in my bones, I knew this cycle hadn't worked.

So, I arrive to my appointment; first patient in the waiting room. After about ten minutes, the tech arrives; and calls me back. Just like last time, I go into the side bathroom, and wrap what literally is a large paper towel around my waist.. and head for the table. Briefly, I wonder if I should wear my socks. I had just painted my nails purple for the wedding and they still looked cute.

I decided the tech would probably not be impressed by shiny toenails. Socks stayed on. LOL

So I scoot down and she does the standard exam. Uterine lining. Good. Right ovary.. a few follicles, nothing large enough.

She then asks if I'm on injections. I answer, "No. Just letrozole."

Left ovary.. a few more follicles.. nothing large enough.

The tech said nothing, but I knew from last time the size they were looking for.. and none of these qualified. As we're finishing, the tech says, "Everything looks good."

Good? Compared to what, exactly? The largest follicle was 10mm, and they need to be around 18mm.

I get dressed and walk out, where she's getting ready to fax my results. She then asks (again) if I'm on injections. I tell her no, just the trigger shot. She doesn't even look at me, and says, "Oh. So you already took your fertility meds.. So these should be...." She just abruptly stops talking, but never looks up. So I say, "Yeah. None big enough."

So, unfortunately, I was right. The meds did nothing this time. No idea why they worked the first month, and not this one. That was a whole lot of hot flashes for nothing :/

A nurse from the doc's office called me a couple hours later, telling me what I already knew.. That none of the follicles were large enough to warrant the trigger shot, and that we can try one more round of this medication, or try something else.

What nobody really wants to grasp is that there is nothing else for us. We can NOT afford the next options. I don't have an extra grand sitting around every month.. just to "try." I don't know many people who do.

That is the part that is actually most exhausting. Not the planning, or marking the calendar, or scheduling the medications... but coping with the idea that "You can't afford to conceive a child." That is a really hard pill to swallow. That I don't have enough money to overcome a defect of mine.

And it's something that is even harder to say out loud. I'm dreading the meeting with my doctor when I have to tell him, "The next steps just aren't possible for us. This has to work, or we're not having children."

It literally feels like someone who's got two quarters left to their name and they're standing in front of a slot machine. Knowing that if they don't strike it big on the next two tries.. they won't even be able to get home.

So, I spent the day on the verge of tears.. but didn't actually cry until my husband got home and asked me how I was doing. I think what makes me fall apart isn't the 'bad news' .. it's feeling like a disappointment to him.. no matter how much he reassures me that's not the case.

Glimmer of Hope

So, I had another ovarian ultrasound this morning (cycle day 12). I went into this one a little bit more hopeful, as I felt like I could tell the drugs were working.

I was on Femara this cycle, and last night, I was getting very sharp pains from the area around my right ovary. It also felt swollen when I would massage that area.

And sure enough, the ultrasound showed a 20mm follicle in my right ovary. A good sign, for sure. They look for follicles that are 18-20mm, and I've never even gotten close before. My left ovary, on the other hand, had a few tiny ones; but none that were viable to mature. But, they tell me it's normal for one ovary to dominate each cycle.

So, I drove home with a little sense of hope; immediately texting my husband to share the news, and then stopped at Starbucks for my own personal celebration of a smoothie and blueberry scone (but let's not dwell on that). I know it's still a long shot. But at least I know we can check one thing off the list of hurdles we need to overcome. Who knew that cancer medications and fertility yoga could actually get my ovaries to do something they're supposed to do?

I've been instructed to take my trigger shot tonight. This is super scary to me. I don't particularly like injections (who does?), and I really don't like the idea of giving myself one in the stomach. *shivers*

We won't really know if this cycle worked until early to mid March. So stay tuned.

By Thirty-Five?

Since my last post, I've taken some drugs, had an ultrasound, and just had another consultation today. So, allow me to walk you through it.

My cycle began on Christmas Day (just the gift I wanted.. lol).. so, they ordered me to start my Clomid a few days afterwards; making my expected ovulation date January 6th. To see if the Clomid was working, they ordered an ovarian ultrasound.

First, awkward. They sent me into a small bathroom, instructing me to strip from the waist down.. and wrap myself in what basically, was a large, thin paper towel.. that didn't even wrap all the way around my body. So, there I was. A shirt, my socks, and half a towel.. Trying to hold it as I waddle to table; which is sitting in a very dark room. You know the kind of table. The one with stirrups. Yee-haw!

She proceeds to show me the device she will be inserting. Lovely. "Aren't you at least going to light some candles?," I thought. Should I say it out loud? Nah. This lady doesn't look like she'd enjoy such humor at 8am.

So, there I was, looking at this black and white screen, as she showed me one ovary and then the other. It was a weird and unpleasant sensation.. but pretty cool, actually. She was able to essentially zoom in and out, and measure each follicle. The good news is that I had several follicles. The bad news is that none were the size necessary; and clearly weren't going to mature and release an egg.

And if you didn't recall, this was from the highest dose of Clomid. Which means, it's either stop here.. or move onto something else.

Dr. Henry had previously mentioned wanting me to get a dye xray of my fallopian tubes.. which is a pricey, and often painful, procedure. I feared that would be what he advised next. But given our budget, I was preparing myself to argue and plead to just try a different drug first.

My reasoning was that the xray isn't going to help me ovulate. It's only going to show if there's a blockage keeping the egg from getting to my uterus; or keeping my husband's swimmers from my eggs. Either way.. it's irrelevant if I'm not ovulating to begin with.

I arrived to my follow-up consultation this afternoon. The nurse walked me into an exam room; except in here, the exam table looked like it was from the late 70s, and since I wasn't getting an exam, it was bizarre to sit there.. on the one and only chair in the room. And, I had to wait there for 45 minutes before the doctor came in.

Not going to lie, I almost fell apart. It really isn't fair or nice to leave a woman in a room by herself with nothing to think about but her own fertility problems. I was staring out the window and thinking to myself, "Is it really going to come down to dollars and cents? So many people that have no business being parents, have child after child by accident.. and I may never have one, because I can't afford to even get a chance."

I was getting misty-eyed when I decided instead to start rehearsing, in my head, my argument to try the next drug on the infertility go-tos. It's called Femara, and sometimes works for women that don't respond to Clomid. It's more expensive than Clomid (almost double), but still less than the injectables. I proceeded to talk myself up. Be confident. Take control of your own healthcare. Yeah, screw this guy and his opinion!

He finally knocks on the door, and drags in a stool to sit on. He shakes my hand and awkwardly blurts, "So, yeah.. You didn't ovulate."

I just respond with an even more awkward laugh, and "Nope."

As he browses my file, not even looking at me, he starts describing his plan. "Well, I think we're going to move on to another drug and see if it works. Well, I'd like to get the fallopian xray done, but it doesn't matter if we do it now or wait. I'll leave that up to you. But we'll go ahead and do Femara next."

Whew... No confrontation needed. I just tell him I'd prefer to wait on the dye and xray, to see if Femara will even make me ovulate.

He agrees, and adds, "We'll try Femara for 3 cycles, and on the 3rd one, we'll do the xray."

Ehhhh.. sure. I'll argue about it later if I have to. Or just tell him we're done trying at that point..

He proceeds, "And if this doesn't work, we can try injectables, or just go right to invitro."

Woooooah! Slow down. Invitro? We're just getting to the second drug, and he's throwing out the full 15k procedure? I didn't have the heart to tell him that's never going to happen. It was just too depressing.

"You can decide though. Injectables will probably blow up your ovaries with follicles," he stated.

Blow up? That doesn't sound reassuring.. especially since ovaries literally bursting from overstimulation is one of the possible complications. :-/ But I try to ignore the bad word choice, as he clarifies that he meant the chance for multiples.

He then explains how the Femara will work (which I already knew, from my own research), "It's actually for breast cancer patients. Basically, it'll block your estrogen, so your ovaries will try to overcompensate." And added, "So, you won't get the hot flashes or mood swings with this one."

I couldn't help but think, "No.. I'll just get a beard."

One of his last statements was, "Our goal is to get you pregnant by 35; and I don't foresee a problem doing that." (Wish this came with a guarantee)

Well.. that gives me four years.. Unfortunately, he expects me to have 30-40k in order to try. :-/

I leave with a plan. Though, I'll only be able to stay on it for a few months before I have to call it quits. So please, if you're reading this.. knock on wood and cross your fingers for me. Time and money are both running out.

More Medications & More Money

So, starting today.. I'm taking the max doseage of Clomid (150mg); three times what I took before. And I had terrible side effects (rash, night sweats) before.. so this should be interesting.

I also just spoke with the office manager at my specialist's office. She informed me, that unfortunately, insurance will not be covering the cost of the ultrasound. So I have to pay $211 out of pocket, in full, on the day of the test (which is less than two weeks away). For those keeping track.. that means for the minimal treatment, and cheapest treatment, it's about $335 per month. And again, that's for the option that gives us the least chance for success.

What this tells me, is that we can't feasibly try this for more than a couple months; and there's really no way we can take it to the next (more expensive and invasive) level. Obviously, the idea of giving up is a real downer. But I feel like we won't have any choice. The doctor doesn't even do payment plans, so everything has to be paid in full before treatment or testing is provided. There's just no way...

Hey (Special) Doc

So, after a fun weekend of celebrating our one year anniversary, I was off to the reproductive endocrinologist..

First, props to my husband for taking time off of work to go with me.. though he only ended up answering one question for the doctor; which was, "Do you have any other kids?" (after I had stated I hadn't had any). Luckily, his answer was "no." If it had been "I don't think so." our appointment would have gone very differently. ;-)

Anywho, as soon as I walk into the waiting room, I see a few couples (one of whom was clearly knocked up), and a couple women sitting alone. Half of one of the couples happens to be a teller for the bank I go to for work; at least a few times a week. Ugh. What are the odds? Then later, I find out that one of the men went to school with my hubby. Definitely a small world.

About 40 minutes after we arrive, I get called. We walk back into a very nondescript office. Two barren desks, and a bookshelf with literally nothing on it. No books. No knick-knacks. Clearly, this is the floating office for visiting doctors.

The Doc comes in and shakes my hand. Takes a few moments asking all the usual questions: How long have you been trying? How old are you? What have you tried?

I tell him that my current OB/GYN had me try Clomid at the lowest dose, but was concerned about putting me on higher doseages due to possibly overstimulating the ovaries. Well, this doc clearly did not have that same concern.. as he immediately prescribed that I try the maximum doseage (3 times what I was on). He informs me, "Oh, and with this doseage, you may have some hot flashes and mood swings." Bad news, Doc. I had those side effects on the lowest doseage. So, this should be fun. (my poor husband)

Doc proceeds to inform me that "we do Clomid a little different here." Oh? Do tell. For that, he sends in his nurse, with packets of information. She tells me how we'll induce the cycle (like normal), then I'll take Clomid (like normal), but then instead of a blood test, I'll come in earlier for an ultrasound of my ovaries. Hmm.. Okay. And then, if it looks like I have a follicle ready, then it's injection time.

Ummmm.. what?

Yeah, injections. Fantastic. What's worse? It's the DIY of injections. The kind of injection they expect your husband to give you.. fresh out of the refridgerator, where you store it by the butter. Bleeeeeeeeh. Not sure I'm up for that part. I'm clearly going to have mixed feelings when it's time for the ultrasound.. hoping I have a follicle.. but wishing I didn't need any injections.

Then, lastly, they say.. "Oh. Let's go ahead and do some bloodwork while you're here." Hooray! Always my favorite thing. But I'll give it to them this time. The dear asian lady that took my blood didn't try to engage me in useless chit chat; which never distracts me. It just annoys me. She just did her thing, and I literally didn't feel it. Trust me, I always feel it. So, high-five, asian lady!

That was my 'consult' today. And on a good note, they believe insurance will cover the consult and possibly part of the ultrasound, since it's considered part of "diagnosis" and not treatment. So, here's hoping that the meds are the only thing completely out of pocket.. for the moment.