What I Want

Infertility continues to beat the entire shit out of me. She is the worse abuser. Not only are her kicks and punches indescribably painful, but they’re well placed. I know they’re there. I feel the impact, but none of it is visible to the naked eye.

I just wish I had one friend, one family member who could or would hold my hand and let me cry. I don’t want to hear I’m sorry. I just want someone to say, “Fuck this shit. Fuck infertility. Let’s go drink and pout.” I want them to be angry with me and okay with my anger. I know that’s a lot to ask of people. We always want to make others feel better. I’m guilty of it too.

It looks as if we have finally diagnosed my infertility: fibroids, endometriosis and bad tubes. Perhaps I would have become a mother, if I had caught the tube thing earlier. It doesn’t matter now because to top it off, my eggs aged prematurely.

I thought I didn’t have anymore tears to give this, but here I sit. Crying. It’s ugly. It’s a tear-stained, puffy, snot-falling cry. I know this is not a punishment from God, but it certainly feels like it. This certainly feels like more than I was ever meant to bear. How does one find authentic joy when their body has betrayed them so?

The answer to that question doesn't matter anymore. This long, dramatic, ridiculous chapter of my life is over. I'd like to say that I finally have the strength to walk away, but that's not the truth. I'm just out of weapons. I'm defeated. It's not the way I wanted it to end, but at least I can say I fought - no matter how un-valiantly - I definitely fought...to a fault and likely to my detriment.

No Luck

I got one embryo and she failed genetic testing.
Booo!
Heartbroken, but not broken.
I have the twinges of sadness, but not the devastation.  Repeated failures will do that to you. You know? Make you stronger (or something).
My family and I just moved.
We had Thanksgiving with no chairs because our stuff hadn't arrived in time for our holiday meal.
I don't know what's next for us, but I'm still not giving up.
Maybe it's an addiction.
Who cares?
Hope is still very strong over here.

My Dog Thinks I’m Pregnant

I took a trigger shot last night. You and I know it’s artificial pregnancy hormone. My little dog, Roxie, doesn’t quite understand it. She’s staying close and snuggling more than normal. She thinks I’m pregnant. My attempts to convince her that I’m merely trying to cook some eggs have failed.

We learned that she’s sensitive to pregnancy hormone after my ectopic pregnancy in November of 2014. She could not get close enough to me. She actually climbed up and covered my face. It was the strangest thing she’d ever done. We laughed it off. It was probably a week later that we learned I was ectopic.

When she pushed past my laptop for extra-close cuddle time today, my husband and I questioned what she was up to, then it hit us. That damn trigger has triggered Roxie. It’s cool. I like to cuddle and snuggle, despite her smelly breath:-)

Retrieval is tomorrow.

P.S. My Aussie, Wally, notices nothing. He does not care about my hormones. LOL!

Race Against Time

I’m in a race against time. It’s two weeks since my surgery and I’m trying to stem for eggs because the fibroids and endometriosis are already trying to take over AGAIN.

I’ve been taking fertility drugs for the last four days. Today I went in for an ultrasound and things are not looking well at all. A new endometrioma is forming and there’s a large cyst on my right ovary. I’m currently waiting on my doctor to tell me if I should stop stemming now. 

Per usual, I’m so very hurt, but we knew this was a shot in the dark, my real last chance. The trifecta of rapidly aging ovaries, fibroids and endometriosis is too hard to beat at the age of 35.

What Will They Take Next?

I’m pretty sure there’s a doctor out there with jars of my lady parts on his trophy shelf. Picture pickled fibroids, fallopian tubes and cysts. I figure he’s like a hunter always looking to add to the display.

I had my latest surgery just about a week ago. I went in with the most negative and nasty state of mind you can imagine. It’s the worst I’ve ever felt mentally before a surgery (this was my fourth, so I am a surgery veteran). Here’s the crazy thing: when I woke up after the surgery, I felt the best I’d ever felt post-op. Maybe the drugs were better?

This was indeed my least invasive surgery. My uterus is a normal size, there were no massive fibroids complicating the situation, and I truly believe my increased water intake helped make this particular operation easier on my body than the others.

So what did they take, you ask? The Doc and his gang of understudies removed my right fallopian tube, which was dilated, and the endometrioma blocking my left ovary.

What’s next? My surgeon and RE agreed I should take Lupron to put my body in a medically induced state of menopause. The goal is to keep the fibroids and endometriosis at bay, until we can figure out if we want to try to use this bionic uterus to grow some donor-egg-assisted embryos someday.

Money is definitely an issue. I’m still paying off the loan from my first IVF. I’d give anything to have those healthy embryos back. I should have waited to transfer them after removing fibroids, but I didn’t want to have another surgery. My stubbornness cost me big time. Oh well. All I can do is march forward now.

I’m really grateful that I came out of this surgery all right. I attribute the outcome to prayer. I asked people to pray for me and they did. I’m thankful, so I won’t complain.

I am often wondering what the surgeon will try to take out of my body next.  He’s totally obsessed with me. Totally. (I’m just kidding by the way).

Good Bye, Mrs. Right?

What the fuck? I’m starting to think my infertility is just a way for doctor’s to siphon away all of my damn girlie organs. I went in today for a pre-surgery appointment to discuss the removal an endometrioma, which has set up shop right outside my left ovary. During the course of conversation (if that’s what you want to call it), the surgeon’s assistant said something like this:

“The MRI showed that your right tube is filled with some type of bad liquid.  We should just remove it, if it’s okay with your RE. You’ll need to sign a form saying you understand that it will render you sterile," said the evil assistant.

What? WHat? WHAt? WHAT?!?!?!?!?

I told her I could not sign a document like that today. I know that I am basically sterile, but to give someone permission to make me OFFICIALLY sterile (I already don’t have a left tube), is not my idea of awesome. I immediately emailed the Witch Doctor, aka my RE. Do you want to know what she said?  She advised that I let them take my tube. I broke.

It’s like my wall of strength totally shattered. I could not hold myself together. I went to the bathroom to suck back tears, but it didn’t work for long. I had to abandon my husband and go to the car to cry. Poor fella had to pick up my doctor’s note explaining to my job that I’ll need a THIRD SURGERY IN 12 MONTHS.

I’m a complete emotional disaster. DISASTER. I called my boss, who I hate, in tears. He is the one person who I do NOT want to show any morsel of weakness, but I couldn’t go to work with a tear-stained face, swollen eyes, and on the edge of crying over any and everything.

The conversation from the doctor’s office kept playing over and over in my head. 

“Have you thought about having children naturally? That’s the problem with hormone treatments, they make your endometriosis grow,” said the bitch of an assistant who for some reason thought I was undergoing all of this shit out of choice.

I had just gotten over thinking that God hates me. I mean LITERALLY JUST gotten over it, after three years. Then this happens. I know I can come off as cavalier in doctors’ offices, but that’s because I’m trying to keep my soul above water. I guess it backfired because this lady apparently thought I went to an RE for fun.

I turn 35 in two days. My family comes into town tomorrow. I have a birthday party in three days. Somehow I have to turn on the charm and behave like I am ok. I’ll do it too. There’s one thing this has all taught me: the world won’t stop over my troubles. No one cares a single bit, and that’s okay because I don’t care about their problems either. It’s just the way the world works.

Endometriosis, Bitch!

I've got Endometriosis too.

Three months after my last surgery to remove fibroids and create a bionic uterus, a blob appeared on my left side, blocking my left ovary.  "What is it?" you ask.  It's a 10 cm endometrioma: a mass of thick blood and fluid that's the result of Endometriosis. 

An MRI/dye test combo revealed my uterus is heavily scarred, likely also the result of Endometriosis and multiple motherfucking surgeries.  Apparently my touch of Endometriosis is a big deal now.  Whatever.  Fuck you, Fertility and all things associated with it.

If I could get away with killing people, I would choose every doctor who ignored my concerns and told me nothing was wrong, and to keep trying.  Since I can't kill them, I'd like to curse them, and the next three generations of their families. Since I have no powers, I'll just stew in my own anger, which does absolutely nothing to help my situation..

WOOOSAHHHHHH!

He Rebuilt My Uterus

I am back with a quick update.  I am three weeks post my second fibroid removal surgery.  This one was more intense, and required a longer recovery.

The surgeon claims he rebuilt my uterus.  After reading the surgery report, my RE said it's like I got a uterine transplant, except it's still my uterus.

I don't know what to think.  The last time I had one of these surgeries, I was sure the miracle of pregnancy would follow fast.  Well...it didn't.  Anyways, I have to wait 8-10 months to try out this marvelous, bionic baby sack.  I'm just hoping that I'll have a flat tummy when this is all said and done.  I feel bad for you if you catch me at the beach.  I'll have this surgery-scarred belly on display for all to see.  Yessss!

My RE will run hormone tests upon the arrival of my next period.  From there, we may go fishing for eggs or give up completely to focus on the last two options: donor eggs (which simultaneously excites me and freaks me out) or adoption.

I last attempted to create embryos in November.  We only got one viable five-day embryo, which promptly failed genetic testing.  Of course, we also had a bit of an issue/accident.  The Hubs and I also made a rogue embryo (surprise!).  It decided to settle into my left Fallopian tube.  I had to have surgery to get that sucker removed, along with my beloved tube.

After I read both surgery reports (fibroid and ectopic), I gathered that I had lots of scar tissue.  It had wrapped itself around my tubes and ovaries binding them together.  Yikes!  When we found the ectopic pregnancy, I was about 6 weeks pregnant, but my uterus was 18-19 weeks gestation size.  While the embryo was in my tube, my fibroids were growing like they were on steroids inside my uterus.  HOLY MOLY!

I'm just hoping I don't have scar tissue again.  I find it so interesting that I've had three surgeries in four years, especially since after the first one, I swore I wasn't doing it again. Lesson?  I have stopped creating hard and fast rules for my bizarre little life.  My mantra isn't YES TO EVERYTHING.  However, It doesn't include HARD NEVERS.

I'm still paying off that first IVF loan, plus I have bills coming in from this last surgery, but I'm not angry.  I'm thankful to have a job to pay them.  I go back to work next week, and when I get discouraged about treatment etc., I will remind myself that it could be A LOT worse.

With all of that said, I'm just letting the process happen.  After all, I can't use my remodeled uterus for 8-10 months.  I guess I'll be on birth control pills (even though it seems pointless) because when it shouldn't happen, we make accidental embryos a la November.  Plus, I'm not paying for 10 months of condoms...that's expensive.

Thanks!

My blog is filled with so much anger and frustration.  If I died tomorrow and someone found this thing, they wouldn't know that I've lived a pretty charmed life.  I wanted to use this space to acknowledge that I'm not bitter all the time.  In most cases, I'm smiling, even when I'm hurting.

Even though I've been more than successful at creating debt, while failing to create babies, I've been gainfully employed.  I am BEYOND GRATEFUL for my job.  It's not my dream job, but I'd rather have it than nothing at all.

Finding out about the ectopic thing and losing my tube sucked, but it happened in the best possible way for me.  I am thankful for my mental health, and I can't tell you how blessed I feel to have recovered from the surgery the way I did.

I have amazing parents and a fantastic husband who dropped everything to get me through that moment.  I didn't even realize how much I needed that support, until it was all over.  I don't know how to properly thank them or repay them.

I have the strangest dogs on Earth.  My sweet little Roxie only likes to sleep in the bed all day.  My Wally is energetic, but hates strangers.  Lord, is he a work in progress, but both of them keep me smiling on my saddest days.  After my surgery, I knew I had to get moving.  Not for myself, but because I had to get Wally back into his dog park and walk routine.  It seems dumb, but I didn't sit around saying, "woe is me."  I got my sore ass out the bed and moved.

I'm thankful to just be alive and I'm thankful for my strange sense of humor.  If my rants help one person who feels as alone as I've felt on this journey, I am thankful for that too.

Now that I've gotten that out, I'll go back to my bitter infertile tone.  I've got to go now.  A disgusting spoon of Royal Bee Jelly awaits me.

Left Tube? Gone!

Sooooo I planned to have a fibroid removal surgery this week.  I felt physically awful after my October retrieval, which netted absolutely no usable embryos.  A lump in my abdomen was growing.  I was sure my fibroids were doing a dirty dance and needed to be removed pronto.  I even moved the surgery up by two weeks.  Well, during the pre-op appointment I tested positive for pregnancy.  Say what?

Here's how the conversation went.

Doctor:  When was your last period?
Me:  I don't know.  It was for my last retrieval. (I looked at my phone and learned my last period was September 25th. It was November 3rd. )
Doctor:  Well, you tested positive for pregnancy.  We tested it twice. I don't think this could be a trigger shot.
Me:  That doesn't make any sense.  I'll call my RE.  Don't worry about it.  This is stupid.  Continue on because I'm having surgery next week.

Well, the RE wanted me to come to her office on that day, which I thought was odd.  I couldn't go because the surgeon's office is more than an hour away from her office and I had to go to work.  I went in the next day.  Of course, there was nothing in my uterus because we all know I can't get pregnant. The RE thought she saw something on the far left.  When she checked my beta it was at 4,000+.  That thing on the far left was my fallopian tube being stretched by a damn embryo.  I had surgery the next day.  They couldn't save my tube.  They also couldn't tackle the fibroids because they said the pregnancy hormone causes too much blood flow in the uterus.  Great!  Now I have to go back to get knifed up again in 3 to 4 months.

Guys, my left tube was allegedly my good one.  The doctor had concerns about the right one that were never confirmed.  Now we know something in the left wasn't letting that embryo pass, but that's okay.  I'm pretty sure the pregnancy would have ended badly because that batch of eggs was terrible.

I'm hurt.  The RE says an egg obviously slipped out before the retrieval and the Hubs left some sperm that were ready to go.  I didn't get to feel any joy of a pregnancy, yet I'd achieved something I couldn't do in 8 years.  That's fine.  I didn't experience heartbreak because there was no attachment.  For me, that embryo was never a baby, but a problem that needed to be removed because everyone feared it would rupture my tube and kill me.  Whatever.

It feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke on me.  I have used up my insurance.  I am in deep debt.  I no longer have confidence in any of this.  I don't think I can continue with Assisted Reproductive Technology any more.  I can't afford it, and I'm no longer willing to gamble on it.  However, I'll take supplements and go to the acupuncture dude in case there's a miracle out there for me.

I will get the fibroid surgery in four months because this surgeon was top notch.  My incisions look fantastic and I didn't wake up in pain.  As I mentioned before, once I'm done with that, it's just me and acupuncture dude.  I'm 34.  This set back would mean I couldn't do anything for nearly a year anyway.
I told the Hubs it's time to look at adoption.

I go back to work today, after two weeks of recovery.  I've got to say, I'm happy to go.  It sucks being off because someone popped open your belly button.  Ugh!  It also sucks having to file for temporary disability for two freaking weeks.  ugh!  It's going to be really annoying when I have to file for a month with the fibroid surgery.

Another Negative

I took a home test and it was negative. I'm sad, but ok. I'll still take the blood test tomorrow. You know me. I don't like surprises. I refuse to cry in a parking lot this time. I shall have dignity and cry at home:-)

This marks the end of this chapter. No more embryos. I'll finish paying off the loan in 2017. It's not that far off. I'm lying. That's forever away. I have to drive my ol' car, until then. Fingers crossed that it makes it. It's a 2003. Yikes!

The Strange Ways Infertility Affects You

My puppy Wally is 11 months old, and we took him in to get neutered Friday.

I kept thinking, "Damn!  I'm paying thousands of dollars to buy some fertility, and I'm paying someone to take Wally's.  That just sucks. LOL!"

My boy endured the surgery like a champ.  He has no clue he's supposed to rest, but we're forcing him to do it.  By the way,  "R.I.P" to the cone in the picture.  Wally destroyed that thing within hours of getting home.  My husband had to rush out to buy another one.

As for me, I'm better.  The Hubs and I are still together.  He said he wasn't going to let something like infertility split us apart.  He's a nice fella.  I've stopped going to the shrink, but I'm back with my acupuncture dude (he doesn't sugar coat stuff.  I need honest people, not folks spewing nonsense about hope, prayer and faith. I need truth and action, along with hope, prayer and faith).

I stay busy by hanging with Wally and Roxie.  Mr. Wally is all Aussie, all the time.  It can be annoying, but I am thankful for it.  Walking him, taking him to the park, and training him, keeps my mind off my strong desire for babies.

We're going in Tuesday to transfer our remaining embryo.  With that, we will close this part of our infertility journey.  I'll probably have surgery to remove my fibroids, and go from there.

It's Over

I never understood how couples could implode, after going through so much during the infertility journey, but now I get it.   There's only so much failure you can take, before you start to reevaluate everything.

Is THIS what I want?

Is this the person I want?

Do I like this person?

Do I like me?

Do I like who I've become?

Do I like us?

If I can't have the life I dreamed of, is it time to just start from scratch?  New me? New career?  New partner?  New everything?

It's hard to focus on what's right when such a big thing continues to go wrong.  Then, new questions emerge.

How do I start over?

How do I make this pain go away?

Is there a happy ending for someone like me?

Another Day, Another Negative

ART failure number 4 is official.  I took the test this morning.  It was negative.  I celebrated with a trip to Chick-fil-A.  I even got a large fry:-)  Go Me!


I would have prefered vodka, and possibly a highly addictive drug.

10 Days Post IUI

I am ten days post IUI.  I'm 99.9% sure I'm NOT pregnant, but there's still that little bit of hope.  Damn!

Anyway, I kind of want to stop taking my progesterone because I'll have two complete boxes left, instead of opening one up for the last three days of this situation.

Of course I'm thinking about testing early, but I don't have a test at home.  I'm too chicken to go buy one from the store because I just feel stupid.  I'd rather buy pads and tampons.  In fact, I need to pick up some of those.  I think I'll pay for the sanitary napkins and make Hubby pick up a home test for me.  It's the least he can do:-)

I am going to a baby shower on Saturday for a friend having twins.  I am afraid to go, but I know it will be so fancy that I want to see it.  I know that's dumb.  The truth is, I feel like this is my test and I feel like I can make it.  Men are invited, so it's kind of like a regular party.  I plan to stick to my husband like glue and hang out in the men circles.  I can feign love of all things sports.

With that said, I've completely stopped talking to my pregnant best friend.  I guess we weren't really best friends?  She's totally consumed with pregnancy. It's all she talks about and I just can't handle it.  I'm working on my fourth ART failure here.  It's hard to listen to someone who has pregnancy brain.  My mother says maybe if I told my pal that at the start of her pregnancy, my second FET failed, and my fibroids are growing, and my recent IVF failed and had to be converted to an IUI, maybe she would get it.  However, I don't want to kill her joy.  I just decided to pull back and because we live so far away, I just pulled all the way out of the relationship.  It hurts, but life must go on and so it is.

I have found a primary care doctor and I'm going for a physical next Monday.  It's my first one as an adult.  I know. I'm not exactly a walking example of how to take care of yourself.  Hopefully, I 'm not too traumatized when it's over.
 

Hot Flashes

I'm 33!

Hot Flashes?

Really?

Progesterone, you are the devil.  You are the devil in a vaginal insert.

Serenity NOW!


This dramatic moment brought to you by an insane infertile :-)

Carry on.

Questions

Do IUIs really even work?  I mean aren't they just sex, without the sex?  If I can't get pregnant through sex, how will an IUI do the trick?  I prefer to call the procedure WOM, waste of money.  Hopefully, the insurance picks up most of it:-)

SERIOUSLY?!  Why is my life so difficult?

Why does the lunchroom keep making delicious rice crispy treats?  I can't resist them, especially when I'm I the middle of an infertility tragedy.  Damn!

AND AND, my freaking pants are unbelievably tight today.  Did that stop me from purchasing the rice crispy treat? NO

Is it really ONLY Monday?  Where is the mercy, Jesus?  Show it to me now!!!!

Alright. Meltdown over.  I will return to my beloved rice crispy treat and continue to pray that my tight pants refrain from ripping.

 

IUI #2 -- DONE!

Do I get a badge?  I should get a badge because I just finished IUI #2 like a champ.  That torture device they put in my nether region tried to break me down, but I was strong and endured.  Of course I cried in the 15 minutes Witch Doctor makes you wait after the procedure.  It was a short burst of sadness for the state of my reproductive life.  Hubby sang to me and well, I couldn't be sad after that. There's something about a man whispering, yet singing an r-n-b song as hard as he can, that just melts all the troubles away-- temporarily.

When it was all over, I came home to my sweet pups and resumed my role as Dog Park Mom.  So life goes on....

I Should Be Pissed

I should be pissed.  This IVF is a failure and is being converted into an IUI, but at the moment I don't care.  What?  The Hubs and I triggered last night and we go in for the "catheter dance" tomorrow morning.  I've got about four or five follicles, but only one really big one.  Witch Doc, thought she could get one blast out of that, but understood it wouldn't be worth risking our IVF insurance on it.  So, IUI it is.

Now the surgeon...Whew!  My appointment was at 11:30am.  His office is an hour drive from my home, without traffic.  We got there at 11am, fill out papers, get comfy and then....DUDE IS NOT IN THE OFFICE.  His staff claimed he was in emergency surgery.  (uh huh Sure!)  They asked us to return at about 12:30, but at 12ish, I got a call saying it will be closer to 1pm.  I got UPSET and cancelled the damn appointment, but my level-headed husband made me call them back and reverse that decision.  UGH! However, I let them know that it was totally unprofessional for them not to call us ahead of time.  I understand emergency surgeries, but that is why surgeons hire a staff.  It is the staff's duty to make sure all meetings are cancelled and all impacted parties are notified.  They apologized, but it didn't change the fact that this mess turned into a 6 hour doctor visit.

The Surgeon never touched me.  His niece, who is a doctor, examined me.  She explained how they would do the procedure very thoroughly and she was actually quite nice and contrite about being late.  We didn't see the Surgeon, until about 4!  He was also apologetic, but here's the thing:  I wanted to see him, so I could hate him and NOT have to worry about this surgery anymore.  I did NOT hate him.  He was very pleasant, confident and appeared honest.

I left confused and cried in the car.  It wasn't the "woe-is-me" cry.  It was more like the "what-the-hell-am-I-supposed-to-do" cry.  *sigh*

Anyway, I'm glad I took the day off work for those shenanigans because I was a mess.  I thought I would get really sad, and there were moments when I almost did, but my husband kept working with me.  In the end, I was ok.  All in all, it was a good day.

Now back to the IUI.  WHAT IN THE HELL?  What am I supposed to do with a damn IUI?  It is like a really bad joke, right?  I can't wait until Saturday.  I am going to drink so many mojitoes that I may just sleep at the bar.

Lame!

This cycle is looking quite lame.  It's so lame that Doc told me there is a chance we may have to convert to IUI, so that I don't waste any of my insurance money.  Yikes!  I've got about four follicles popping at the moment.  That's a far cry from the 11 that were doing back flips during the last cycle.  So what have we learned?  Maybe acupuncture really does work.

Of course Witch Doctor delivers this news with the most positive spin, so I didn't immediately freak out.  I should also add that it was really early in the morning for me (I work the equivalent of a second shift, so I prefer to be a late riser.  However, Wally has taken that away from me).  I started to cry a little in the car, and Hubby consoled me.  I really don't have time to feel sorry for myself at the moment because I just went through the dogs' morning routine.  This is my first chance to sit down.  It's 11am.  I got home from the doctor's office at 8:30am.

Doc says these are the results she expected from me during the last IVF.  This is more in line with my DOR (bad eggs).  *sigh*  Anyway, I go see the surgeon on Wednesday, so I better get off of here and go fill out my new patient forms.

If you pray, and you want to pray for me, don't pray for my IVF or the quality of eggs.  Please  ask that I'm strong enough to accept whatever the outcome is.  Thanks.

Now, off to fill out forms that ask way more questions than I care to answer:-)