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).

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.

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.
 

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.

I'm A Fool

Happy April Fool's Day!  Want to know a secret?  I start stemming tonight for an egg retrieval.  I don't know who is paying for this mess.  My insurance changed.  Yes. Changed.  That means it no longer offers the three tries.  It only offers ONE.  AND, I need some pre-authorization.  I may truly be screwed, but I figured I'd pay the little pre fees and if I can't come up with the rest, oh well....PAYMENT PLAN.


That makes me a what?  A DAMN FOOL (that's worse than being a sucker).  *bows and waives to the crowd*

In case you're wondering what's in my medicine bag this time around, I'll drop a few expensive names. I have menopur, follistim, ganirelix and HGH.  Woot Woot!  The insurance covered 85% up to $5,000.   I apparently went over because I got hit with a $1300 bill.  I wondered how that happened, since last time I paid out of pocket and I don't remember topping 5 grand.  Well, last time I had bravelle.  That stuff is cheaper because it comes in powder form and doesn't need a fancy pen and needles like follistim.  I wish Witch Doctor and the gang would have let a Player know.  I would have gladly gone for the powder.  Truthfully, I don't think bravelle was on my insurance list.

We are just hoping for a few good eggs.  If our pockets allow, we'd also like to genetically test them, but that's definitely counting the chickens before they hatch. (I just rolled my eyes at myself)

Next Wednesday, I have an appointment to see the man who will likely chop up my uterus.  Wednesday night, I'll probably drink margaritas and cry.  Ain't life grand?

By the way, I probably spelled all of those medications wrong.  I paid enough for them to disrespect the spelling any way I like.

I Was Right

I went to Witch Doctor for the ol' ultrasound and guess what?  My fibroids have doubled in size since my first visit with her in December of 2012.  One is beginning to obstruct her view of my right ovary.
Her recommendation?  Retrieve some eggs, try to make some embryos, freeze them and get my largest fibroids removed.

I have made an appointment with some specialist at Stanford.  He's supposed to be some world renowned expert on Fibroids and Endrometriosis.  What does that mean to me?  Jack shit!  My last surgeon was all special with multiple titles.

Once again, I'm angry, heartbroken and confused.  I feel like I have no one to talk to about this.  My husband is the eternal optimist, and it feels like he's ignoring my concerns.  My mother and I really just can't talk about this subject in a meaningful way.  My soon-to-be-ex-bestie is pregnant and I don't want to bog her down my tragic tale.  The shrink is pretty much useless.  That leaves me feeling very alone.

I'm treading water over here.  I'm barely keeping my head afloat.  No matter what, I have to get some type of surgery AGAIN.  I didn't want another one.  I didn't like the first one.  I don't like surgeries.  Everyone pretends like they're no big deal, except they are.  People are cutting you open, exposing your insides, while you're passed out on the table.  You have to hope and pray that the surgeon is having a good day and doesn't fuck you up.  And even if he stitches you back up with flying colors, you have to pray the nurses in recovery actually know what they're doing.  My last post-op experience wasn't great.

Anyway, I wish there was a reset button I could press for this life, but that's not possible.  So, I'll just keep treading.

Well on a happier note, Wally, my pup, passed his training class.  Now, we're going to basic manners two.  AND I'm back in the jeans I wore when I first met Witch Doctor.  WooHoo!  I looked at some of the pictures after my first failure, and I was a whale.  People pretended they didn't see me carrying 10 to 15 pounds of pain.  Ridiculous.

Who Needs a Title?

My period finally came on her own.  My cycle was 51 days.  If I hadn't had a missed period, this one actually would have been on time (does that make sense?).  However, it did come with some concerns.  I did not have extremely painful cramps, but I did have ridiculously uncomfortable pressure which is quite reminiscent of the days before my fibroid removal surgery.  At the risk of sounding more and more like a hypochondriac, I sent Witch Doctor a note and told her I probably needed an ultrasound.  She told me to come on in.  So, I set an appointment.  Oh!  but let me back up.  Before that, Witch Doctor sent me in for more blood work.  I got my estrogen and FSH checked on cycle day 2.  I'm waiting for results.

Anyway, I went backwards and forwards over whether to contact her.  But then I remembered the fact that my body had been telling me something was off for years.  Instead of thoroughly checking it out, I hoped that it was implantation or this or that.  Well, it wasn't any of that.  It was my DAMN fibroids eating well, growing, and destroying my uterus.

I came across the story of MSNBC host Melissa Harris-Perry.  I don't really watch her show.  I only really know her name because she popped up in a book a read.  Well, she just had a baby.  Ok, not really.  Her surrogate just had her baby.  Melissa's fibroids were so bad that she had her uterus removed.  She already had one child and didn't think she'd want another.  But she fell in love....and I'm sure you know how the story goes.  Anyway she did IVF.   She still had her ovaries.  She and her husband made some embryos, and a surrogate baked them.  You can read a better version of her story here.

Her tale kind of got my hopes up.  I started thinking that maybe Hubs and I could make some more embryos and do the same.  Then I remembered that I also have poor egg quality.  I also remembered that I'd already flushed 4 good embryos down the toilet and there's no guaranteeing I'd get as many good ones this time around.  Then I remembered I don't have the money for the lawyers and fees that come along with surrogacy.  So, I was kind of reduced to crying at the end of the entire thought process.

I'm a ball of sunshine, right?

Random Things

I have random things floating around my mind right now.

1.  My skin.  People, I am glowing.  My skin is flawless right now, minus my chicken pox marks that I've had since I was 12.  I think it's the Estradiol.

2.  Good Sleep.  The hubby and I just discussed it, and we both agree that unplugging the TV and closing it off in the armoire helps us to sleep better.  A couple of weeks back my acupuncture dude told me to unplug the bedroom TV at night because it doesn't fall in line with Feng Shui.  He believes the TV may help my fibroids grow.  Well, I don't know about all that, but we are sleeping better.  The Hubby thinks it's because closing off the TV area also means we don't see the blinking lights from the modem and the DVR. *shoulder shrug* Doesn't matter to me. I know we'll keep closing that thing because the sleep is FANTASTIC:-)

3.  I'm so excited that it's Friday.  Yay for Friday!!!

#FINISH

Embryo Rent

My babies are frozen in time at literally five/six days old and they are already attacking my wallet.  I have to pay rent for my embryos.  They aren't even in college yet!  WTF??

I pay $40 a month for their frozen dorm.  I sure wish they would earn a scholarship, call to say hi or something.  This relationship is feeling very one-sided. LOL!

In two weeks, at least two of them will transfer to a new room (haha!).  I sure hope they like the little lining-filled space growing in my uterus for them.  I figure the fibroids will just be their friendly neighbors.  We all have neighbors we think we'll hate, but they end up being just fine.  I hope this will be the case in my reproductive area:-)

TV & Fibroids?

TV & Fibroids... could there be a connection?

I don't know.  I'm not an expert, but my acupuncturist threw some details at me today.  As he was assessing my situation and figuring out where to prick me with his magic needles, he asked, "is there a TV in your room?"

Well of course there is a TV in my room.  I have had a television in my room since I was seven.  I love watching TV in the bed.  I have actually talked to other wives who told me to get that thing out of the bedroom.  They say the bed is for lovin'!  While I agree with the lovin' part, I also believe the bed is awesome for popcorn and a good ol' show.

Anyway, the acupuncturist went on to ask me if the TV is on my side of the bed.  My TV is not directly next to my bed, but it is in the front of the room, kinda to the left. I sleep on the left side of the bed. OMG, right?  My "needle man" went on to tell me to just unplug the TV.  He says in his Feng Shui world, televisions in the bedroom contribute to tumor growth (fibroids are essentially benign tumors).

I was stunned.  I know he is not the authority and there's no research that I know of to back this up, but I'll try anything that doesn't involve surgery.  So guess what?  I'm unplugging the TV tonight.  I'm also moving the phone and iPad off my nightstand.  I know these fibroids won't disappear without a miracle.  So I will do whatever I can to keep them mild.  This uterus IS about to roll out the welcome mat for my babies.  I don't have time for games.

My best friend's co-workers is a 40+-year-old woman who is pregnant with triplets.  It took her multiple rounds of IVF to get to this point.  She said when she told her husband she was pregnant, he changed his phone wallpaper.  He simply put the word "FINISH" on there.  She said she didn't understand at first, but now she does.  Her goal is to get to the finish line with three healthy babies.

Of course when I first read her blog, I thought, "whatever" (because I was still a mental hot-n-spicy mess), but now I get it.  My 2013 theme for this blog has been #BABYRASS2013 or some variation of it.  Well now it is FINISH. I will finish this mission.  Fibroids didn't stop me from starting it and God willing, they won't stop me from finishing. 

Pray for me, please:-)

#FINISH

Can I be 100% ?

I told my RE that I have decided against going to the specialist.  Guys, I'm out of money and at this point, I can't afford to see him. I figure he'll probably tell me to get surgery.  I'm done with surgeries that don't have something to do with saving my life.

This was my RE's emailed response:


"the goal is this: [you are] 100% secure in our decision to move forward without removing fibroids"


If that's the goal, then I know a trip to the specialist ain't worth the money.  Doctors are a necessary evil for me. I try to avoid them as much as possible, which is pretty funny considering how much I have to see them just to have a child. Lord!  Anyway, here's why a doctor can never make me feel 100%:


1. I got my first pap smear at 22.  (Late, right?) Since that first visit to the GYN, I always asked, "Is there anything wrong?"  I was always told I was perfect.  At 27 I finally pushed the issue because I'd been married two years and wasn't pregnant.  The doctor ordered an ultrasound to humor me.  Lo and behold, I had fibroids so big that the technician was stunned I'd never felt them.  Well, imagine how stunned I was that a doctor never felt them either.

2.  My first RE told me removing the fibroids should lead to pregnancy.  Uhm, that was two years ago.  Guess who's not pregnant?  oh...that would me.

3.  My current RE!  Before I started taking hormones for the egg retrieval, I asked her if she thought my uterus could handle this.  She told me YES!  Then all of sudden she had concerns as we were preparing for the transfer.

I won't be 100% until I have a baby, who is born alive.  I won't be 100%, until the child grows into an amazing adult and changes the world.  I won't be 100%, until I die knowing I gave my child everything possible to survive this crazy world.

So... with that said, I just have to move on.

I have been off the crazy hormones for about six weeks and I am finally feeling like myself.  Folks, I was wildin' out.  As you can probably tell from my posts, I was extremely sensitive and emotional.  I knew I was completely off when I lost my mind and yelled...I mean YELLED...at a coworker.  That's not me and that's not my style at all.

I apologized to that co-worker, but until that moment, I didn't realize how out of control I was feeling.  That powerless feeling multiplied by 1,000 when the doctor checked my uterus.

Now that I am back to myself, I realize she was just doing her due diligence.  Now, I'm ready to move forward.  So hopefully, I'll be able to start taking the pills for the transfer next month.  Please pray for me!  I need it:-)

I Want My Babies

As each day goes by, I'm starting to regret my decision to delay the transfer.  I want my babies!!  It's obvious that I let my fears, emotions and frustrations with my RE get the best of me.  I have to find a way to talk to her calmly and tell her why we just aren't clicking.

Let me tell you the stream of thoughts that ran through my head during our last appointment.  If you'll remember that's when she said my fibroids were all over.  She went on to perform a water ultrasound that showed they were not intruding on what she calls the baby cavity of the uterus.  Once she finished the ultrasound, she said everything is great.  Proceed with the protocol for the transfer, which means pop the estrogen pills.

Well!  The last time she told me everything was alright, I had a failed IUI.  You see, I'd had some blood work done before the IUI. I kept asking her the results and she said they were fine.  "We'll talk about them after your positive," she said.  I didn't get a positive.  After my negative, she decided to discuss my FSH levels, which were high for a woman my age and were indicative of diminished ovarian reserve or bad egg quality.

Do you see why I couldn't take her word that everything was fine with uterus?  I don't know when she's lying or telling the truth.  I just don't know.  That is why I went into a bit of a tailspin after that ultrasound.

After reluctantly praying every night and talking to my mother and husband, I realize that I will never get the assurance that I need.  No one knows if this will work.  But I swear if it doesn't work and the doctor says something about my fibroids, I won't be able to contain myself.  I may have to kick her.  Not hard...I don't want her to press charges or anything.  Just a good kick for her to get the point:-)

Even though I regret my decision to delay this process, I have to say it's nice not to be on some type of hormone for a minute.  With all of that said, I'm wondering if I really need to go to this specialist.  I'm wondering if it will ultimately be a waste of money, as his office has also managed to frustrate me already.

I called twice to try to make an appointment.  His nurse told me she never received anything from my doctor's office, which I knew was a lie.  I may have serious issues with my doctor, but her staff is top notch.  When they say they will do something, it gets done.  I have never caught them dropping the ball.  However, when this new doctor's nurse said they failed to send my referral, I told her I would email them.  She must have thought they were lazy, like her.  She was stunned when I called back five minutes later because they responded quickly, told me they'd faxed the referral the day before and quickly faxed it again. LOL!  Well, the nurse made up some lie about just seeing the referral right after I hung up.  I asked how come she didn't call back.  She started rambling on about something else. *sigh*

During our conversation, she told me this doctor doesn't perform ultrasounds.  I asked how he would be able to see my fibroids. She told me he performs a pelvic exam and would be able to tell from that.  That was a major flag.  No doctor has ever adequately diagnosed my fibroids without an ultrasound.  I spent years going to the OBGYNs asking them if they were sure I didn't have problems.  They always said nothing is wrong.  All of sudden I get an ultrasound after begging for help and...boom! I've got fibroids everywhere.

Anyway, the nurse quickly gave me an appointment, then called two days later to say she double booked and needed to move mine.  I don't know what to do.  I was never really a fan of doctors before and this experience makes things even worse for me.

I really wish I could just get pregnant the normal way...you know, sex?  

What I'd Really Like To Post....

As you can tell, I'm a pissed off chick.  I am an only child with a warped sense of humor.  I never really had any one to edit it.  It's also why I often have foot-in-mouth syndrome.  But believe me, those snafus are never ever as bad as what's floating in my mind.  So I decided to give this blog a glimpse of it.  I did edit it a bit because when I wrote this list, I was REALLY angry.  I figured no one should  know how dark I can get.  Here it goes....


What I'd really like to post on Facebook:

Congrats to all the new parents.  I hope your children steal your sleep, drain your bank account and ruin your chances of retirement.  Yay Kids!

What I'd like to tell my RE:

Maybe you shouldn't work while pregnant or maybe you aren't as good as you thought.  Thanks so much for helping me waste  $27,000.  I sure hope that you get to pay a year of your baby's school tuition with my debt.

What I wish:

I wish I had the balls to be a crackhead.  At least there would be fantastic seconds of GLORY that no one could take away, not even fibroids.

My future:

Shit with gold painted on it.  Hooray!

Three of my co-workers take a Krav Maga class. It's some sort of Israeli fighting technique (Jennifer Lopez used it in a movie called Enough).  I often laugh at them when they suggest I join in.  At the moment, I am wearing my hair straight and I do not have time to sweat.  That would cause my hair to draw up and that's not the style I'm going for right now.  But each day, I just get more angry and I'm unable to control the bitterness seeping through my words.  It's making me think that maybe I should look into these classes.  I'd get to yell, scream and beat the shit out of a person in pads.  Of course the fact that they'd be able to do the same to me, doesn't sit so well.

I'm Not Nuts

I'm sure by now you are tired of my highly depressing posts.  I know I am, but my life is what it is.  

So I talked to my RE on the phone yesterday.  I didn't have the guts to scream all of my anger at her because I'm pretty sure that when I am comfortable enough to get a transfer, I will need her help.  However, we did discuss my concerns.

She and my husband thought I planned to quit altogether.  I would never give up on my five em-babies, even though they are only essentially clumps of cells.  I am not quitting.  I just can't pretend that my uterus is rolling out the welcome mat for them, when it really isn't.

The doctor said she discussed my case with a doctor friend of hers.  They both agreed that I don't have fibroids in the "baby cavity," but the doctor friend was concerned that the bevy of fibroids in the other parts of my uterus could cause a baby-threatening early birth.

I am the product of pre-term labor, as is my beloved cousin.  I was born four pounds and spent about a month in the NICU.  In fact, they accidentally let me out early.  To make up for it, they sent a nurse to my house to check on me everyday.  They are certainly lucky that my mother wasn't litigious and only cared about having her baby home and healthy.

My cousin on the other hand, was barely two pounds.  There was no way he could be mistakenly released.  They told my Auntie to prepare for his death.  But he is a fighter and survived.  He spent most of my childhood getting on my last damn nerve:-)  To this day, he goes out of his way to make sure I am ok.  You would think he was the big cousin:-)

Our births are the reason I have to get more questions answered.  I have to know what to expect.  I know no one can predict the outcome, but I have to properly prepare.  Guys, I wasn't prepared for that IUI.  She didn't tell me about my poor egg quality until after it failed.  My hopes were so high that when I got an official negative result, I didn't know...it felt like something died. It was a devastation I wasn't prepared for.  I can't let that happen to me again.  More importantly, I'm not going to put an embryo in my uterus as a little test.  I am not a science experiment, nor are my embryos (ok, maybe we are.)

With all of that said, I plan to go see a doctor who specializes in ovarian cancer.  I do not have cancer and I hope I never have it.  However, his expertise in fighting ovarian cancer makes him a bit of an expert when it comes to fibroids and their possible impact on pregnancy.  We are hoping that he will be able to give an unbiased opinion of what my uterus is capable of doing.

While I am pretty mad at God, I'm still praying every night and hoping for the best.  I'll keep taking my supplements and going to acupuncture.  This will give me a break from those strong hormones and hopefully give my body a chance to return to itself for a moment.  I want to start Insanity cuz I am a bit fat at the moment, but I don't know if I have the balls for that right now.

Back To Normal

I have decided to suspend this IVF ride.  I want to be normal and I want to stop worrying.  I would also like to fit into my pants that loved me before this journey caused me to eat like a starving pig.

My husband is not happy with my decision. I am sorry to disappoint him, but he's not the one juggling dreams of 'success and babies' and then 'failure and suicide.'  The range of emotions I deal with every second has probably sent many folks to a shrink.  Thanks to my expensive ass IVF bill, I can't afford a shrink.  I have to do what I think is best.  I think it's best to bow out.  I wish I would have made this decision before the loan, the IVF and the embryos, but I can't change history. I can only do what I have to do now.

I'm not going to risk putting two embryos in my uterus when there is such strong concern about the fibroids.  It's really upsetting because I kept asking the doctor about this and she kept assuring me everything was OK....until Friday.

I don't know what to do now. I don't want another surgery and I don't want to put my embryos at risk.  So either I will figure this out or I will drink myself into oblivion.  Isn't my life awesome?

Reflection

I saw a picture of myself shortly after my failed IUI.  It was quite shocking to look at.  I've never seen a photograph of my face that reflected a moment and my true feelings so completely.  I had a tired, battered face and it failed miserably to hide behind a smile.

That smile looked heavy and so...difficult.

Today my doctor looked at my uterus again and she was silent for a second.  She's never silent.  Witty and wacky comments always fill the air when she's in the room.  This time she had nothing.  As I've said before, my uterus is a hot bed of fibroids.  They are all over. Sometimes, I question if I really had a myomectomy or if someone drugged me up and then pretended they performed surgery on me.

Well, the state of my uterus so concerned the doctor that she did a water ultrasound on me.  She shot water up my you-know-what and took pictures of its travels on a monitor.  She assures me that the results prove the fibroids are not intruding on the "baby cavity" of the uterus.  She says now she can sleep at night.  Good for her.  Not for me.

This thing is a total mind f*ck of epic proportions.  I'm not sure why there aren't reports of infertile women committing murder...or just losing their minds.

I begin pills on Monday to trick my body into thinking it's pregnant to prepare for transfer.  I have to go forward. I'm tired of the tears.  I'm tired of being a shell of a person.  It either works or it doesn't.  

Blood, Drugs & Nerves

Sh*t is getting so real right now.  Here's the rundown:

1. Bloodwork---
    My thyroid is a bit too overzealous sluggish. I have to take meds for that. I don't know the cost yet.

2. Prepping for an IUI---EXPENSIVE
    Femara + Progesterone = $250
    Trigger shot = $80
    Say what? I'm broke!

3. Ovulation Prediction Sticks---CHEAP
    Pack of 50 that includes 10 pregnancy tests = $20 (Thank you, Amazon)

4.  My Nerves---SHOT. I'm a freaking mess.

I started off this month ready to go.  My doctor gave me a plan and I was committed to getting it done. But now I'm starting to get a bit of cold feet. I'm wondering if I'm rushing things.  Should I wait until next month?  If this IUI doesn't work, the hurt will be so much more than emotional.  It will be physical (like I'm gonna break something).  Look at all of that money!  The prices above don't even include doctors visits and the actual cost of the procedure.

With all of that said, I am super excited. This doctor moves fast (in a good way) and answers questions quickly. There's no waiting, which is imperitive because my middle name is NOT patience. I had my blood drawn at 8:30 this morning, she had the results by 12:30 in the afternoon.  She told me the problems she spotted and had a possible solution ready (medicine).  If I email her, I have a response within ten minutes. It's amazing... and unnerving. I told my husband that she is either perfect or secretly evil.  My attempts to dig up dirt on her have failed...so far.

I'll begin taking two Femara for the next five nights. I'm praying I don't have any mood swings. If all goes well, I'll be on track for an IUI during the first week of January *fingers crossed*.  I know there's only a seven to ten percent chance of pregnancy, but...I'm still hoping for the best.

I don't want anything material for Christmas.  I just want guidance, happiness, a healthy pregnancy and a healthy baby.  I wish everyone a Merry Christmas and I hope that all of your dreams come true.  Don't forget to thank Jesus for his sacrifice:-)

I Am Good At Something

I went to visit my new doctor today. *sigh*  She is the nicest medical professional I've dealt with during my intermittent infertility journey, but the visit? The visit drained me.

I should just go ahead and get this out of the way. I am apparently very good at one thing.  No, it is not complaining. I am very good at growing fibroids. I feared they had come back or that I still had some, but the GYN didn't feel any during last month's exam.  I went into this visit confident that fibroids were not going to be apart of it. I was wrong. I have eight freakin' fibroids in my uterus right now. EIGHT!  I couldn't hold the facade. I cried in the middle of the ultrasound. I mean I had tears, snot...you name it. How embarrassing. Ugh!

Now on to the not so depressing part.  The doctor doesn't think my new round of fibroids will prevent pregnancy.  From the ultrasound, she determined that I ovulated from my right ovary this month (hooray!) and both ovaries look healthy (double hooray!). She was unbelievably gentle, considerate and kind. By the time we left, she had hubby BELIEVING. And I should add that within minutes of our visit ending, she sent me a recap email so I wouldn't forget anything (say what?).

Doc laid out a plan for us.  It starts with hubs making a deposit in a cup for testing, me givng up some blood, starting fertility medication to boost the ol' ovulation and a little insemination.  This train to pregnancy appears to be picking up speed.  Now the questions are how long will the ride last and will we ever reach the desired destination?

*sigh* I left the visit shaken. The whole fibroid thing really messed me up. If it wasn't for my husband being with me at that moment, I would have just withdrawn into myself. He kept me smiling, pumped me full of Starbucks and played a little 2Chainz for me (yes. 2Chainz raps about nonsense, but he cracks me up).

Last month I made a list of things I need to do and fell down on the job.  Here's the updated list.

1. Get my old records (turns out that it doesn't matter that they're nearly two years old. she wants a look.)
2. Find my surgery synopsis sheet.  I could not find the sheet, so I ordered a new one.
3. Pray. Pray hard for the strength to stay sane, calm and open to whatever it is I may need.