So when I first found out we were having trouble TTC, I started to read IF blogs to help connect and realize that I'm not alone. I chose to follow 4 of my favorites. And I realized today that, as of this week, every one of those girls (bless their hearts) are now mommies. This is both totally and amazingly awesome, and sucky. I now need to add more blogs to my list to read so I can feel some of the IF commraderie I was originally (selfishly) looking for -while also still reading the others because I feel slightly and weirdly invested in their lives. In a weird, stalkerish kind of way. Anyone have any suggestions? :)
Showing posts with label infertility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label infertility. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Infertility by numbers
Okay dokey. About a week ago we went to the fertility doctor for our follow up. Originally, my husband and I had a little chat about what was shareable on my blog. Those views have since changed, with no provocation from me. So, thanks, honey. Being able to talk about it in plain terms is nice and cathartic. Since he doesn't mind anymore here's our 1-2-3 on our fertility 'stats' for anyone interested. A list will help keep me overly whiny, so we'll go with that. :)
a. Number of months we've been off BCP: 22
b. Time since we've "known" something was wrong: 9 months
c. My DH's sperm count: .3million/per mili (yes, point 3 million. As in 300,000)
d. A normal sperm count: 20million-90ish million/per mili. Can be higher, depending
e. Number of months we get to try taking Clomid to see if it helps: 4- plus another round after that if we see some improvement
f. Our "chances" of conceiving on our own: No doctor has estimated it, but from what I've been able to put together it's around 1-4% (Infertile people never ask this. Only the fertile-myrtles. I mean, I get it. It's nice to quantify. But I think once you're in the midst of it, you understand how variable and random things can be-- not that I mind this question. Just a funny observation.)
g. Price of an In-Vitro cycle (or two--apparently they sell in a sort of package deal) at our fertility clinic: $10,000- $13,000.
h. Amount of time it will take us to save up for an In-Vitro cycle: 3.5 years. That'll mean: no debt except our mortgage plus enough money to stay home for a few months, plus the cashola for the procedure. It's a long ways away, but being free and clear would be sooo nice if we had one (or two) little ones coming our way! Now all the posts about "budgets" makes way more sense, eh?
f. Number of times I've been "glad its him and not me": 0. Not that I wish it WERE me. It just doesn't change the results, and I would gladly take on the stress if it meant he didn't have to. He really is the most amazing and wonderful man. I'm so lucky to have him. And his .3 million sperm. ;)
a. Number of months we've been off BCP: 22
b. Time since we've "known" something was wrong: 9 months
c. My DH's sperm count: .3million/per mili (yes, point 3 million. As in 300,000)
d. A normal sperm count: 20million-90ish million/per mili. Can be higher, depending
e. Number of months we get to try taking Clomid to see if it helps: 4- plus another round after that if we see some improvement
f. Our "chances" of conceiving on our own: No doctor has estimated it, but from what I've been able to put together it's around 1-4% (Infertile people never ask this. Only the fertile-myrtles. I mean, I get it. It's nice to quantify. But I think once you're in the midst of it, you understand how variable and random things can be-- not that I mind this question. Just a funny observation.)
g. Price of an In-Vitro cycle (or two--apparently they sell in a sort of package deal) at our fertility clinic: $10,000- $13,000.
h. Amount of time it will take us to save up for an In-Vitro cycle: 3.5 years. That'll mean: no debt except our mortgage plus enough money to stay home for a few months, plus the cashola for the procedure. It's a long ways away, but being free and clear would be sooo nice if we had one (or two) little ones coming our way! Now all the posts about "budgets" makes way more sense, eh?
f. Number of times I've been "glad its him and not me": 0. Not that I wish it WERE me. It just doesn't change the results, and I would gladly take on the stress if it meant he didn't have to. He really is the most amazing and wonderful man. I'm so lucky to have him. And his .3 million sperm. ;)
Monday, January 9, 2012
The Super-Duper Dr. L
For anyone who might be keeping track: we still are a no-go on the b-a-b-y. We went to a fertility specialist today. And here's a little peek at how the appointment went...
In walks a short, youngish guy in a mustard yellow shirt and brown pants. He has a kind of skittish excitability that is sort of likeable in a manic kind of way. He introduces himself to us, and I like him right off the bat. Until he says to Ryan "Oh, so this must be your daughter" Really, dude? A paternity joke at a infertility appointment? Whatevs.
So basically this is the conversation that followed. Verbatim. Ok, not verbatim. But close.
Fertility Doc. (We'll call him Dr. L from this point on): "Oh, whoa, hey. So how long have you guys been goin' at this thing?"
Me:"Almost 2 years."
Ryan: "It's been a while." Way to undersell, honey.
Dr. L (while looking at our file) "Yeah, whoa, well, you guys are super-duper infertile" (Are you allowed to say 'super-duper' if you have a medical degree? I'm guessing not and I actually just added that myself.) "Yeah, well, ok, so the Naturopath you guys went to was a quack, and I don't really get why he made you do half the stuff you did" (Yeah, caught that, thanks. Let's also skip the part about how he misread our test results, mmk??) "So basically we have to figure out what's going on here or your only option is ICSI. You can't even do an IUI at this point unless we get this stuff lookin' better, ya know?" (Yeah, actually, I did know that. And the thought of an ICSI makes me want to punch myself in the face. Don't know what an ICSI is?? Oh, only THE most hardcore fertility option out there. FOR 16 THOUSAND DOLLARS!! I added a link for anyone who wants the deets. "So here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna repeat a test you've already done 5 times (awesome, all of which we've paid out of pocket for, but sure lets repeat it, what the heck!) and do some blood work, and come back in two weeks and we can talk about all our options"
Ryan nods, and I just blink at him.
Dr. L: "Oh, and thanks for the $200 bucks for the 20 minute appointment!" Ok, he didn't actually say that last part, but that's basically how it was.
Brutal.
So we know basically no more than we did before the appointment, we have to wait another 2 weeks, and we're out another $200 bucks. With a couple hundred more to shortly follow by the time we get even close to figuring out how to avoid an ICSI or IVF if at all possible. Super. Duper. (See, I can say it because all I have is a Bachelor's).
I'm making this guy sound like a total jerk. He really, truly wasn't. It's just a crappy situation and it's nice to be able to put the blame somewhere else. He and his mustard shirt get the most of it today.
Though, towards the end of the appointment it came up that Ryan cant swallow pills. Which I tease him for mercilessly. So when Dr. L hears this he pauses for a second, looks at Ryan and says "What are you, six??" And I laughed the whoollleee way home.
Partly because it was funny.
And partly to keep myself from crying.
Life's funny, isn't it??
In walks a short, youngish guy in a mustard yellow shirt and brown pants. He has a kind of skittish excitability that is sort of likeable in a manic kind of way. He introduces himself to us, and I like him right off the bat. Until he says to Ryan "Oh, so this must be your daughter" Really, dude? A paternity joke at a infertility appointment? Whatevs.
So basically this is the conversation that followed. Verbatim. Ok, not verbatim. But close.
Fertility Doc. (We'll call him Dr. L from this point on): "Oh, whoa, hey. So how long have you guys been goin' at this thing?"
Me:"Almost 2 years."
Ryan: "It's been a while." Way to undersell, honey.
Dr. L (while looking at our file) "Yeah, whoa, well, you guys are super-duper infertile" (Are you allowed to say 'super-duper' if you have a medical degree? I'm guessing not and I actually just added that myself.) "Yeah, well, ok, so the Naturopath you guys went to was a quack, and I don't really get why he made you do half the stuff you did" (Yeah, caught that, thanks. Let's also skip the part about how he misread our test results, mmk??) "So basically we have to figure out what's going on here or your only option is ICSI. You can't even do an IUI at this point unless we get this stuff lookin' better, ya know?" (Yeah, actually, I did know that. And the thought of an ICSI makes me want to punch myself in the face. Don't know what an ICSI is?? Oh, only THE most hardcore fertility option out there. FOR 16 THOUSAND DOLLARS!! I added a link for anyone who wants the deets. "So here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna repeat a test you've already done 5 times (awesome, all of which we've paid out of pocket for, but sure lets repeat it, what the heck!) and do some blood work, and come back in two weeks and we can talk about all our options"
Ryan nods, and I just blink at him.
Dr. L: "Oh, and thanks for the $200 bucks for the 20 minute appointment!" Ok, he didn't actually say that last part, but that's basically how it was.
Brutal.
So we know basically no more than we did before the appointment, we have to wait another 2 weeks, and we're out another $200 bucks. With a couple hundred more to shortly follow by the time we get even close to figuring out how to avoid an ICSI or IVF if at all possible. Super. Duper. (See, I can say it because all I have is a Bachelor's).
I'm making this guy sound like a total jerk. He really, truly wasn't. It's just a crappy situation and it's nice to be able to put the blame somewhere else. He and his mustard shirt get the most of it today.
Though, towards the end of the appointment it came up that Ryan cant swallow pills. Which I tease him for mercilessly. So when Dr. L hears this he pauses for a second, looks at Ryan and says "What are you, six??" And I laughed the whoollleee way home.
Partly because it was funny.
And partly to keep myself from crying.
Life's funny, isn't it??
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Monday, July 4, 2011
Easier than some, harder than most.
Here's the thing: I like being transparent. I don't mind not having very many secrets, and, if you ask (and sometimes even if you don't) I'll tell you whatever is on my mind. That being said, if you want to know me better, keep reading. If you'd rather not know all that much about me, please stop here and wait for the next probably more bubbly and humorous post... mmmkay?
16: The number of months Ryan and I have been "trying" to have a baby. I hate that phrase. "Trying." Because if you try, and don't succeed, then you fail, right? So I guess that sentence would be "The number of months Ryan and I have failed to have a baby".
12: The age at which I realized I wanted to be a mother. Ironically, also the number of children I used to tell people I wanted to have. For those of you who sharply inhaled upon reading that last sentence, don't worry- I've altered that down to a much more socially acceptable 3 or 4 rugrats.
482: Approximate number of days I've woken up, put my hand on my stomach, and wondered what it'd be like to be kicked gently from the inside. Melodramatic? Yes. 100% honest and hard to put in words? Also, yes.
25(ish): Number of pregnancies I've heard about via Facebook or in person while we have been trying to make a family ourselves.
192,0399: Number of times I've been told to "Just relax, it'll happen." Seriously, I know people mean well but if one more person tells me that I'm going to fly off the handle.
So. There's the short and tall of it. We want a baby. We haven't had a baby yet. I don't like that fact. Pretty simple.
Yes, we know why it hasn't happened yet. At least, we know why the doctor says it hasn't happened yet. But that part I'm keeping a secret. ;) At least, a secret from the blog world. If we're friends and you're curious I fully don't mind talking about it... please just ask! It's actually very nice and therapeutic for me to be able to talk about it. But Ryan and I decided in tandem that while my blog was whatever I wanted it to be, it wasn't the place to air out the specifics of this particular issue. So is it weird that I'm talking about it, without really talking about it? Sure. Do I care? Not really. ;)
Being diagnosed as infertile is a pretty weird thing. And by 'pretty weird' I mean 'absolutely terrifying.' I'd spent the last 11 years saying to anyone who wanted to know that my worst fear was never being able to have children. Everyone I said this to shrugged it off. They told me 'Yeah, that'd suck, but don't worry you'll be fine.' Ha.
So even though 16 months doesn't seem like a long time, remember that I've woken up everyday for more than a year feeling as if I'm literally living out my worst fear. Add to that ultrasound Facebook profile pics, and baby showers, and adorable, cuddly newborns of the 25ish pregnant women I've known and you've got one hot mess of a poor little infertile couple. Yes, I'm feeling a little sorry for myself, and I don't care.
And yet, we're not that bad. Like the title says: our journey has been easier than some, but harder than most. I've been reading a lot of fertility related blogs, and research, and pretty much everything I can get my hands on. And while it still could be a while for us, we've been given some hope lately in the form of some positive test results.
My heart breaks for some of the women whose blogs I've been reading. These strong, amazing, women having been struggling with infertility for SO LONG, or have had trouble carrying a baby to full term. It seems that even on my best days, they're still handling it better than I am. And they're on a whole different level than Ryan and I. We're talking daily shots, and IVF struggles, and miscarriages. They inspire me on every level. I have a weird mix of emotions towards them. Part of me wants to be strong and tough like they are, and the other part is hoping I never have to be that strong.
SO. If you're the praying type, please pray for strength for us. Pray that Philippians 4:13 will ring true in our hearts. "I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me."
And if you're not the praying type... just let me talk through it. :) Let me work it out, ask me how I'm doing, ask if you can do anything to help, but don't tell me about how it'll happen when I least expect it, or so and so adopted and now they got pregnant, or some magic formula of a vacation and alcohol that worked for someone else. I know that you don't know what else to say. I know that it's an uncomfortable topic. I know, maybe, you feel sorry for me and feel bad about that. That's okay.
There's a song by a band called Bright Eyes, that makes me think that someday it'll all be just fine. God will prevail, we'll get the child we've been dreaming about for years. Yes, I know it's cheesy, but here's what I'll sing to that lil baby.
16: The number of months Ryan and I have been "trying" to have a baby. I hate that phrase. "Trying." Because if you try, and don't succeed, then you fail, right? So I guess that sentence would be "The number of months Ryan and I have failed to have a baby".
12: The age at which I realized I wanted to be a mother. Ironically, also the number of children I used to tell people I wanted to have. For those of you who sharply inhaled upon reading that last sentence, don't worry- I've altered that down to a much more socially acceptable 3 or 4 rugrats.
482: Approximate number of days I've woken up, put my hand on my stomach, and wondered what it'd be like to be kicked gently from the inside. Melodramatic? Yes. 100% honest and hard to put in words? Also, yes.
25(ish): Number of pregnancies I've heard about via Facebook or in person while we have been trying to make a family ourselves.
192,0399: Number of times I've been told to "Just relax, it'll happen." Seriously, I know people mean well but if one more person tells me that I'm going to fly off the handle.
So. There's the short and tall of it. We want a baby. We haven't had a baby yet. I don't like that fact. Pretty simple.
Yes, we know why it hasn't happened yet. At least, we know why the doctor says it hasn't happened yet. But that part I'm keeping a secret. ;) At least, a secret from the blog world. If we're friends and you're curious I fully don't mind talking about it... please just ask! It's actually very nice and therapeutic for me to be able to talk about it. But Ryan and I decided in tandem that while my blog was whatever I wanted it to be, it wasn't the place to air out the specifics of this particular issue. So is it weird that I'm talking about it, without really talking about it? Sure. Do I care? Not really. ;)
Being diagnosed as infertile is a pretty weird thing. And by 'pretty weird' I mean 'absolutely terrifying.' I'd spent the last 11 years saying to anyone who wanted to know that my worst fear was never being able to have children. Everyone I said this to shrugged it off. They told me 'Yeah, that'd suck, but don't worry you'll be fine.' Ha.
So even though 16 months doesn't seem like a long time, remember that I've woken up everyday for more than a year feeling as if I'm literally living out my worst fear. Add to that ultrasound Facebook profile pics, and baby showers, and adorable, cuddly newborns of the 25ish pregnant women I've known and you've got one hot mess of a poor little infertile couple. Yes, I'm feeling a little sorry for myself, and I don't care.
And yet, we're not that bad. Like the title says: our journey has been easier than some, but harder than most. I've been reading a lot of fertility related blogs, and research, and pretty much everything I can get my hands on. And while it still could be a while for us, we've been given some hope lately in the form of some positive test results.
My heart breaks for some of the women whose blogs I've been reading. These strong, amazing, women having been struggling with infertility for SO LONG, or have had trouble carrying a baby to full term. It seems that even on my best days, they're still handling it better than I am. And they're on a whole different level than Ryan and I. We're talking daily shots, and IVF struggles, and miscarriages. They inspire me on every level. I have a weird mix of emotions towards them. Part of me wants to be strong and tough like they are, and the other part is hoping I never have to be that strong.
SO. If you're the praying type, please pray for strength for us. Pray that Philippians 4:13 will ring true in our hearts. "I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me."
And if you're not the praying type... just let me talk through it. :) Let me work it out, ask me how I'm doing, ask if you can do anything to help, but don't tell me about how it'll happen when I least expect it, or so and so adopted and now they got pregnant, or some magic formula of a vacation and alcohol that worked for someone else. I know that you don't know what else to say. I know that it's an uncomfortable topic. I know, maybe, you feel sorry for me and feel bad about that. That's okay.
There's a song by a band called Bright Eyes, that makes me think that someday it'll all be just fine. God will prevail, we'll get the child we've been dreaming about for years. Yes, I know it's cheesy, but here's what I'll sing to that lil baby.
"Yours is the first face that I saw
Think I was blind before I met you
I don't know where I am, I don't know where I've been
But I know where I want to go
So I thought I'd let you know
These things take forever and I especially am slow
But I realized that I need you
And I wondered if I could come home
And you said
This is the first day of my life
Glad I didn't die before I met you
Now I don't care, I could go anywhere with you
And probably be happy"
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