Beta results

This morning I had my blood testing done and my doctor's office just called me. They said they like for pregnancy hormone levels to be around 100 for the first test. Mine was 763!!! I said to the nurse, "Oh my GOD! I'm having twins, aren't I?" She laughed and said "MAYBE! Or it's one baby with A LOT of pregnancy hormone". Either way, it's very good news. Next week I go back for another blood test and then, in two weeks, I do a blood test and an ultrasound so we can see how many babies are in there.
My boss told me yesterday that I looked a little pregnant in the dress I was wearing (That's right Joy. If you're reading this, you'll know I'm documenting your bad manners!), and my stomach does seem bigger, but I've lost 4 lbs.! I'm only 18 days along, I can't be getting fat, yet!
Anyway, now I can start my pregnancy journal and start looking at baby furniture and not close my door and cry when someone brings their baby into the office! It still doesn't feel real and I don't think I'm going to get much work done this afternoon....:)

Great news

I debated about when to tell people if I am pregnant. Since the whole Internet has access to my process, though, I don't think it would be fair to withhold information. I started testing at home late last week. Friday, I tested negative. Saturday, I tested negative. Sunday I tested POSITIVE!!! I have tested positive every day since then. I am officially pregnant. Testing positive so early is also an indicator that I may be carrying twins. I won't know for sure until Friday, when I have my blood test and even then I will literally only be 18 days along, so I probably will (try) to wait a few more weeks to make any announcements. It's such a relief to finally be able to have some indication of what's going on in my body. I have also had some nausea and fatigue, and I have never been so excited to be sick!
Charlie is thrilled, too and keeps me entertained by suggesting baby names- some of them pretty crazy. I made a suggestion, for a boy name, that he thought was inappropriate (which I will not disclose in case someone here has a loved one with that name). Charlie's very articulate and sensitive response was, "Why don't we just call him 'Pussy McSuckdick' and send him to school?"
I can only hope that my future child(ren?) have their father's class.

Where I am now

We got some bad news on Wednesday. None of our remaining 10 embryos survived the freezing. We were pretty upset because now the ones they transferred are the only chance we have for pregnancy. I have been having bad cramps for the last couple of days and no symptoms of pregnancy. I just don't feel pregnant. I am so frustrated by this whole process. I am trying to stay positive, but feel like a crazy person. I have made it through the first week of the 2 week wait. Part of me can't wait for next Friday and a definite answer. Part of me doesn't want it to come because as long as I'm in this place, there is still hope.

Two week wait

OK, here's the thing, I'm losing my fucking mind here. My doctor obviously doesn't understand that I am a classic control freak and that it's not possible for me to have a life changing event maybe occurring inside my body that I have no control over. I have cramps, fatigue, bloating, my boobs feel like a couple of bowling balls that shoot intense pain through my chest when they bump anything. In short, I have all the early signs of pregnancy....or my period....or surgery induced trauma to my ovaries. I have been straining to feel a pain that would indicate embryonic burrowing, but it seems that embryos burrowing could feel the same as PMS cramping and that's bullshit. All weekend and Monday I was convinced that I'm not pregnant. Yesterday and today, I am on the fence- sometimes I think yes, sometimes no. I'm not supposed to test at home, because the hormone injections can fool the tests. I've read that after day 10, injectable pregnancy hormones won't produce a false positive, just a possible false negative, and a faint line may appear if I am pregnant. Come Monday, I'm going to be a testing fool. They can't stop me (insert maniacal laugh here).
I'm not allowed to smoke, drink wine, coffee or Diet Dr. Pepper, or take bubble baths. I am tired of taking walks. Mediation is fun and relaxing for about 15 seconds. Then I get so bored, I want to poke my own eyes out. Every show on TV has babies in it. I am trying not to overeat, because the only thing that would be worse than finding out I'm not pregnant would be getting fat and then finding out I'm not pregnant. I'm a woman on the edge here people. Oh, and there is a chance that if I am pregnant, I'll be a single parent, because I don't know if my marriage is going to survive my insanity.

A Little Bit Pregnant

I had my embryo transfer today and it hurt, but we got to watch on the ultrasound screen as the doctor implanted the embryos. I cried and Charlie squeezed my hand. It was as beautiful as getting impregnated in a lab can be. The 5 additional people in the room sort of killed the ambiance, and the speculum nixed any feeling of warm and fuzzy, but I am grateful to have this chance. They gave us pictures of our embryos...they are just 7 cells each and kind of look like a blob. If we do have a baby, when she ;) is older, we can show her the pictures and say, "Now, you are one of these blobs of cells. We're not sure which, but they are both fine looking blobs".
We now have the dreaded two week wait. In two weeks, I go back for a pregnancy test at which time, I will officially be pregnant. Apparently, this is a part of the process where you play all kinds of super fun mind games with yourself about being pregnant or not or losing embryos. I am TERRIFIED I am going to do something to make them not stick. I have been assured that staying hydrated and getting enough rest are pretty much the best precautions I can take. It just seems like I should be able to do more. The doctor said, "You really need to accept that the rest of this is out of your hands." I may start repeating that, like a mantra. We will know on Wednesday of next week if we have any embryos that are strong enough for future tries.

A Fine Harvest Indeed!

I went in on Tuesday for my egg retrieval surgery. It hurt. REALLY BAD! The IV sucked because they needed a couple of blood samples. They used a giant syringe to suck a couple of gallons out of my arm. The anesthesiologist had to remind me to breathe. Then, instead of stirrups, they strapped me into what looked like knee length moon boots. They pumped some anesthesia into me, strapped some oxygen to my face and out I went. The nurse said, "When you wake up you are going to feel compelled to ask the same question over and over again. That question is, 'How many did they get?'. when you remember the answer to that question we'll know you're out of the anesthesia."
Sure enough, I asked several times. The answer was 18! I was groggy but excited. They gave my a progesterone in oil shot in the hospital so Charlie could see how to give them. They are intramuscular and supposed to be horrible. The needle is huge and long. I actually don't think they are as bad as the hormone shots we were giving before the retrieval.
I went home in some pain. Like, excruciating-I-owed-someone-money-and-they-beat-it out-of-me-pain. I spent yesterday and today recovering and they called me with an update today. 4 of the eggs were not mature enough to fertilize. Of the 14, 12 of them fertilized and are official embryos! I have the transfer on Friday or Sunday, depending on the development. Hopefully, we will have some left over to freeze (thank you to Sarah who very generously offered freezer space so we could avoid storage fees, but I think we got it). If this cycle doesn't work, or if I miscarry, we will have future embryos to try with. Or, if we have one and decide we want another, we can use the frozen embryos.
Anyway, that's where we are. I will keep you all posted!

It's HARVEST TIME!!

I gave my "trigger shot" tonight (actually Charlie did). It was a big one, but didn't hurt nearly as much as the stimulation shots. I am scheduled for an egg retrival operation on Tuesday at 7:30 am. I will keep everyone posted! Thanks for your thoughts and good wishes!

CLOSE

I went in for my ultrasound and bloodwork today (third blook work this week, arm is seriously fed up). I am so close. I have to go bak in the morning, but I could trigger tomorrow for a Monday harvest or on Monday for a Wednesday harvest. That means that I could be a little pregnant this time next week! I am so excited, scared and overwhelmed, I don't know what to do with myself! Will keep you posted!

Things not to say

I started my Menopur last night and am feeling better today. In place of my typical entry, I am posting something from another lady's blog. She has dealt with infertility for many years and writes pretty funy stuff. This is her 16 things not to say to someone who is NCBC (not childless by choice):


These following statements are just not okay:

1. "You must not really have wanted to have a child or you would have one." Really, is that the problem? Me and Hillary, we just didn't want it enough. Thanks.

2. "You must have some psychological block that is preventing you from getting pregnant." I am guessing that means Jamie and Britney Spears are totally free and clear of psychological issues. Good to know.

3. "If you would just change your beliefs about all of this you would get pregnant. Have you seen “The Secret"? This question always makes me want to ask the well-meaning questioner if they have seen my middle finger? I believed I would get pregnant----I mean I believed. I believed so strongly that I had names and furniture and preschools picked out. If I didn’t believe I wouldn’t have shelled out $100,000 in my attempt to conceive and I certainly wouldn’t have endured that kind of pain and suffering.

4. "If you would just quit trying you would get pregnant" or "if you would adopt you wouldget pregnant." No, this anecdotal myth is just that, a myth. 95% of people who adopt do not get pregnant upon adopting---and the percentage of people who get pregnant after failed infertility treatment is even less. I find the notion of adopting in order to get pregnant totally unconscionable. If you want to adopt then you adopt but you don’t do it as a means of getting pregnant.

And I will have you know that we haven’t been trying to get pregnant for almost four years and not once in all of these years of not trying have we managed to get even a little bit pregnant.

5. "God has another plan for you. God doesn't want you to be pregnant" or, my personal non-favorite, "God wants you to be in service and if you had a child you couldn't do God's will." Please, please, I beg you, unless God has phoned you up or shown up in your living room with choirs of angels, would you please do me a favor and not be a spokes person for any deity on my behalf. Oh, and if God has visited you and given you an inside scoop to my life purpose I would suggest you put your tinfoil hat on and find your way to the nearest psychiatric hospital.

6. Another of the God ones that needs to go unsaid, “Maybe God knew you wouldn't have made a good parent." Following this logic one would have to infer that all the people who have children are great parents. One trip to Mc Donalds will disprove this absurd theory. "God" gives all manner of incompetent people children. I know many parents that any higher power in its right mind would have never chosen to care for a houseplant let alone a helpless child.

7. "Do you want to throw me a baby shower?" No, I don't. I love you. I love you very much, but I just cannot throw you a shower or even go to your shower. Sometimes the mere act of taking a shower makes me cry. Going to a party to celebrate someone else having a baby is out of the question. Also, I am not going to birthday party for children 0-12. Once they are 13 and are driving you to drink I will happily attend and I will come and celebrate your suffering. I hope you understand.

8. "I am thinking about having an abortion." No, do not tell me this. I am all for choice. Really, I am. I just cannot hear about your choice just now.

9. "Do you want to go to Chucky Cheese, Disneyland, Toys R Us or to the American Doll store with me? No, no I don't. I want to go to a bar and drink a bottle of Vodka and smoke a carton of cigarettes---and I want to end the evening with a Super Size Ambien, would you care to join me?

10. "I had six kids and as soon as I had them I realized I didn't want to be a mother." It was 6th child that made you realize this? When talking it is important to be aware of your audience. This is not something you say to a woman who was not able to have one child.

11. " I have a very small family, I only have four kids." Shut up.

12. "You can be a mother to your friends kids”. I know people mean well by this. But, to those of you who say such things, let me tell you that babysitting for your kids is not the same thing as being a parent. It just isn't.

13. "Well, why didn't you try and adopt?" I did and it hurt more than the IVF when the mother decided she had changed her mind and she would instead go on welfare and drop out of school so she could keep her child. I can’t do it again. And by the way even if I managed to adopt I would still be grieving the loss of not being able to have my husband’s child.

14. Or, the one I am getting a lot of lately, "Get over it". No, I am not likely to get over it. This is a wound and emptiness that will be with me forever. Infertility is, as Shelagh Little writes, “like a low-level, lifelong bio-psychosocial syndrome. My physical inability to produce children has emotional and social consequences that I struggle with, at least to some extent, every day."

15. “You are soooooo lucky not to have kids.” I can take this one now and then, but on the day after a failed IVF I could not stand to hear how lucky I was and how horrible kids are. I know it may be true. I know the statistics about how childless couples are happier and have more satisfying marriages---but we were going to be the couple with the house filled with kids, bikes on the lawn, and a tree house in the yard. We would not be the couple who spends holidays at others homes---we were going to have a family, or so I thought.

16. “Don’t ever give up. Keep trying. You can’t stop now. Maybe just one more IVF and you will get pregnant.” This is one that really gets to me. I once asked a friend of mine who has worked with the terminally ill if when people in the late stages of cancer decide they can’t bare any more treatment if they are met with this same kind of attitude. She assured me that they aren’t. With cancer and other terminal diseases there seems to be a collective understanding that at some point that the compassionate thing to do is give up and die with dignity. The same kind of understanding does not seem to be there for us infertiles. I suppose that it seems to an outsider that there is always something more you can do and that if you “really wanted a baby you would do it”. We did IUI, IVF, and ICSI. That is as much as we could do. We could not do egg donor or hire a surrogate or attempt another adoption. There was a time when we could do no more. There was a point when trying to have a baby started to feel like it was killing my spirit, damaging my relationships and draining our finances. However since there are more things we could have tried I often get the sense from some insensitive others that I don’t deserve to grieve over our childlessness. That we should keep going and only when we have exhausted every option do we then deserve to grieve.

Infertility treatment, according to the statistics, is likely to cause anxiety and depression equivalent to those with Cancer or H.I.V./ AIDS. With infertility there is guessing, hoping and odds that are often different in theory than in practice. Infertility treatment takes a significant toll on your body, relationships and finances---and it is up to each individual to determine when they can take no more.

My suggestion on what to say when you learn that someone is suffering from infertility is very simple, if you find yourself at a loss what to say or an impulse to say any of the previous things that you shouldn't, just say a heartfelt "I'm sorry"---that is plenty.

Posted by La Belette Rouge

Stimulation

I have started the injections that will force my ovaries to develop mulitple eggs. I had bloodwork and an ultrasound on Friday and more bloodwork today. The new shots sting like hell and I am soooooo tired. I am going to work, but I'm not sure you can call what I'm doing "working". I mostly sit at my desk, waiting for the doctor to call with my blood results and try not to fall asleep or start crying. The bruising on my stomach has started causing bleeding with every injection. I could inject in my thighs, but may have to do the IM injections there, so I am trying to keep that area bruise-free. I have had the same slight headache for three days. I have hot flashes. I have to bite my tongue not to go all Tourette's on people and tell them I hate them.
I have reached a point in the process that is similar to the point you reach during finals in college or preparing for an audit at work. It's the point where you don't really care what the outcome is, you just want it to be over. I (obviously) still want to get pregnant, but more than anything, I just want this to be over. At least then I will know and can react and process accordingly. Overall, I am not feeling very stimuated by the stimulation medication...It's just temporary. This isn't forever...It's just temporary. This isn't forever...(insert deep breath here). I will keep you posted.

Middle-Aged Mary

On Friday, the anxiety over giving myself injections beat the control freak part of my personality into submission and I let Charlie do my injection. He did an excellent job and is now on permanent duty. It has been such a relief not to have to worry about doing it myself, that I have been fairly relaxed all weekend. Now, I am anxious to go to the doctor, get blood drawn and start my stimulation medications. Stimulation medication sound fun and sexy. Like Viagra or Ecstasy..Unfortunately for me, only my ovaries are getting stimulated. The rest of me remains in menopause. I'm not wearing slacks with elastic waistbands and baggy cardigans, and I haven't started going to the salon once a week to get my hair washed and set, but I am having hot flashes and fantasies of 10 grandchildren. Also, have found myself with a strange craving for hard, butterscotch candies...
Anyway, the stim meds are 2 additional shots a day. It's good because it means I am one step closer to pregnancy. It's bad because it sucks to get 3 shots a day, but it should only be for 10-14 days. Then, blood work and ultrasounds every day, and then it's HARVEST TIME!!! I kind of want to come up with an agricultural rhyme, like the one that goes:
By the 4th of July,
the corn should be as high as an elephants eye....

Mine might be more like:
In the final egg development stage,
how many depends on your age,
but after much hormone related rage,
proceed with the harvest,
Using a needle with a large gauge,

Not quite as catchy...I'll keep working on it, but I can't think of anything to rhyme with centimeter or folicle...I am open to suggestions!

And here come the side effects

Last night I gave my 3rd shot. I am still suffering from the "several false starts" syndrome. It took about a half an hour to get actually administer the shot. I don't think it's getting easier. It takes ALL of my energy and focus just to complete the 5 second task. I read on a blog last night that one lady takes Xanax for her anxiety through this process. Charlie immediately and eagerly said, "How did she get Xanax? Can you take Xanax?" He is really trying, but I know he is tired, too. I think he is going to take the kids for a visit with his parents next weekend. I think that will be good for all of us.
After only 3 injections, I feel bruised across my stomach and may try my legs tonight. The side effects are starting. I am sooooo tired- especially in the evenings and anything can set me off emotionally. It's a really weird feeling. First I get so mad, I want to break something or throw something. Then the energy just sort of seeps away and I just lay and cry and hate the whole world. I literally feel crazy because I can't control any of it- and a little scared that I'm so out of control. Then I feel guilty for being crazy, which makes me mad, because I can't help feeling crazy because I have to take these fucking shots. This brings us right back to crazy.
The upside to all of this is that I sleep like a rock. As soon as I hit the pillow, I'm out until morning. That's the only upside that I have seen so far.
I am really struggling today. It's so discouraging to be on day 3 of my shots and already so miserable. What am I going to do when it's 3 shots in an hour? I won't have a half an hour to talk myself into it. I'm way to far in and committed to quit now, I just have to get through this. That's become a sort of mantra at our house. We just have to get through this. It's not forever.

I did it...finally

I gave my first injection last night and it went something like this:
I went into the kitchen and got the shot ready. Then I put ice on my injection site. Charlie watched. Then I picked up the shot and held it over the site. I wanted to get it over with, so I started to inject it...then 3 inches from my body, my hand froze. I literally couldn't do it. Charlie said, "Do you want me to do it?" I told him no, I needed to know how to do this. I tried again. I said to myself, "This is ridiculous! You had a root canal 4 hours ago. This probably won't even hurt. Count to three and then just do it. It will be over in a second." I counted to three, and my hand WOULD NOT move. Then Charlie tried counting..nothing.
I have, many times, been disdainful of people on The Amazing Race because they won't do a zip line, or go down a water slide. They stand crying, while their partners cajole, encourage and then try tough love. I will never judge those people again.
I asked Charlie to leave the kitchen, but still, I couldn't do the shot. My hands were shaking at this point and the effects of the ice had long since disappeared. I called Charlie back into the kitchen and burst into tears. "I can't do it! I'm not going to be able to do this and there will be no babies because I'm a wuss!" Charlie asked again if I wanted him to do it. I stopped crying and said yes. He took the syringe from me, pinched the skin, and sat there. Then he looked up at me. I said, "What?" he said, "I don't think I can do it either." FUUUCCKKK!!!!! I was so frustrated at this point. I said, "OK, you go somewhere else. I am going to watch the video again and then try." I watched the video and went back into the kitchen. Then I did exactly what the lady on the video did.
I slid the needle in and I injected the hormone. It burned and itched and I was as proud of myself as if I had climbed Everest. I ate a celebratory bowl of ice cream. I told Charlie several times, "I don't know if you know this, but I injected myself with a needle." He assured me he remembered and that I was the most fabulous, bravest person ever. He also says he doesn't know what he's going to do when it's time for the Progesterone shots. I don't think we can think about that now. I just want to get through the next couple weeks.

A Fortunate Dental Procedure

Today is THE DAY! I start my hormone injections! I was very nervous about it, had a crying, "why-can-bad-people-all-over-the-world-have-babies-with-little-to-no-effort-and-I-have-to-torture-myself-for-even-the-opportunity-to-conceive", pity party this weekend. Then the most wonderful thing happened- I went to the dentist yesterday and found out I need a root canal today. Now, this would not be wonderful under normal circumstances, but I am finding that I am much more anxious about the root canal than I am about the shot. I also plan to be very tough later and say things like, "Well, this will be a breeze after that root canal!"
I watched the injection videos on line last night and they demonstrate how to do everything from drawing up the shot to injecting. Charlie was very helpful and calming. He really put me in a state of zen by saying 3 times during the video, "Oh, God, she's not really going to inject herself on this, is she?!" and, "There's no way she's really going to do an injection!" She did, and she lived through it.
I think I'll be fine. Really. I have plenty of subcutaneous (fat) tissue, and I am using this process as an excuse to eat fast food- got to keep those injection sites plentiful! I haven't decided if I want Charlie in the room for moral support or if I want to go it alone. I do better and get less nervy when I'm by myself, but I do want him to know what works and what doesn't for when he has to give me injections. I will try to update and let you know how it goes later this week.
I'm sure it will be a breeze after that root canal!

appreciation

I haven't posted anything in a while. I think that's because I have been trying really hard to not think about it while I wait to start my shots. I start my Lupron on May 11, so that's one week from today. As strange as it seems, at this point, I just want to get started and get it over with. I have almost totally forgotten my fear of needles. It will probably come raging back when I'm ready to stick myself but for now, I'm not bothered by the thought. It's really strange to think how adaptable people are. A year ago I never would have believed I could do this(OK, 4 weeks ago I had my doubts). Some days I'm still not sure- but mostly, we do what we have to do and we are all stronger than we know.
I joined an online support group/chat and it's great. Everyone there is dealing with infertility. The reasons for the IF are different, but the feelings are very similar. It's a huge relief to know that there are others out there celebrating success and dealing with failure. It gives me hope that I will get pregnant and helps me believe that if I don't, we will get through that, too.
Most of the people around me are very supportive or, if they don't know what to say, they tell me that. That's one of the big reasons for the blog. No one has to say anything. They can read this and know where I am and not feel pressure to say the right thing to me. I appreciate everyone who does keep up on the blog, and my friends who call and email with support or encouragement and tell me that it's cool if I have hot flashes and a short crying spell at their bachelorette parties. I appreciate my boss for sharing her getting pregnant issues with me. I appreciate my husband who has been on this roller coaster with me and loves me in spite of my behavior. So thank you for being there. It means much more than you probably realize.
Also, I promise that future blogs will contain more humor and a lighter take on the situation..but I have been feeling contemplative lately and realized I am not doing this alone.... I'm sure that once I get nervous again, the inappropriate jokes will flow from my keyboard....

The Strange and The Sci-Fi

Most of you are pretty familiar with my moral values and political views. I tend to lean a little to the left and I think people should be allowed to make up their own minds about issues that come up in their own lives. I think a lot of the time, though, it's hard to see the ramifications of laws and policies and even developing technology until you are involved with it. I think this is a good example of that.

Due to my experience with the IVF process, I have found myself in the middle of several strange conversations about medical procedures I had only heard about on the news.. I never thought about multiples or frozen embryos at all and now they raise all sorts of ethical issues I didn't see coming. Here are a few of the big ones:

1. What do we do if we have leftover embryos? Our options include destroying them, "adopting" them out, donating them, or paying storage fees (yep) indefinitely.

2. If we have leftover embryos and my IVF cycle doesn't work and something should happen to Charlie, would he be comfortable with me trying again on my own?

3. If we have 2 embryos implanted and they split, and we end up with quads, should we do a selective reduction?

4. If something happens to both of us, who "owns" our frozen embryos?

5. Who gave birth to and raised those stupid truck drivers with naked lady stillouhetts on their mudflaps?

Just a few to contemplate while I'm waiting for shot time.

So, Charlie had his surgery on Tuesday so that they could extract sperm or tese as they call it in the RE's (reproductive Endocrinologist) office. The procedure went very well, they got 6 vials, which means nothing to me, since I don't know how big the vial is. I do think that should be enough to get me pregnant. The way they extract it is that they do a testicular biopsy- cut a bit of his testicle out. Then they (and I'm quoting here), "pulverise" the testicular tissue to retrieve the actual sperm cells. I'm glad that part is over and he's basically home free for physical discomfort- and he's very sweet when he's on pain medication.
I ordered and paid for my IVF medications on Tuesday after we got home from the hospital and they were delivered the next day. The grand total was $3,059. On top of the fees we already paid ($5,100), we have spent $8,159 in the last week. Another $4900 is due at the time of my harvest. I am panicking a little about the cost, but I think it will be worth it.
The medication delivery was a little overwhelming. It's a lot of syringes and a sharps disposal container and vials and vials of medications and hormones. Some of them have to be mixed with water. That's what I'm most afraid of screwing up. If I mix a bit too much water with the trigger shot that I take right before my harvest, the whole cycle is blown and I am back to square one. I also can't figure out the calendar that my doctor's office sent me to track when I need to take which injection. It's as frustrating as math class and I know that there are women out there who are not geniuses that have done this. I just don't know how. Maybe it's a conspiracy by the medical field to thin the herd. Like, if you're not smart enough to do this, you have no business with a child. I certainly hope not...because chances are good that I don't have any business raising a child. I've just been hoping no one would notice.

How not to order medications

So, I got on the schedule for my cycle. When you can be scheduled depends on incubator space. I start on birth control pills on April 17th (roughly- again depends on my cycle), then on the Lupron shots on May 7th. This means that I should be pregnant by the end of June. I am feeling better about the whole thing (again). I figure I will learn one of two things about myself during this process:
1. I am much much stronger than I ever thought I could be
2. I don't want babies nearly as much as I thought I did

Either way, we'll know.

Before you start with medications, you have to confirm an order with the pharmacy for a 3'X 3' box of vials and needles that is sent to your door. Yesterday, I had to get some dental work done and they sedated me. The post op instructions say very clearly that I am not to make any purchases or important decisions for the rest of the day. The thing about the sedation is that it's like roofies. I'm awake and can talk, but my judgement is impaired and I won't remember anything about a conversation later. So, after my procedure, Charlie took me home and put me to bed.
Somehow, I got my phone in bed with me and checked my messages. I had 2 messages from the pharmacy telling me that I needed to call them to confirm my order for IVF medications. The last message said that if I don't call them back, they were going to call my mom because she is listed as my emergency contact. At this point, I must have panicked, because I didn't want my mom worried or in any way involved in the nuts and bolts of this process. Instead of seeking Charlie's sober guidance, I went ahead and called the pharmacy. When Charlie found me, I was talking to the pharmacy lady, wouldn't acknowledge his presence or his repeated inquiries about who I was talking to, and was taking notes about the $3800 worth of medication the pharmacy was sending. When I hung up Charlie asked who I was talking to. I said, "the pharmacy about the IVF meds". He said, " Why would you do that now?!" This was very upsetting to me, I guess, because I started crying, told him they were going to call my mom and accused him of being mean because he wouldn't let me have my phone back.
He called the pharmacy back, explained that I was impaired and got all of the correct information. Then he got me settled on the couch where he could keep a closer eye on me.
I told you, the man's a saint.

Orientation

We went to orientation yesterday. It was 5 hours long and included training on mixing and injecting medications. We will get to that later. First the demographics:
There were about 15 sad, white upper, middle-class, heterosexual couples in it. All the ladies were over 30. We were all strangers. It was the perfect place to ask questions about ovarian follicles and male factor infertility. The only time the mood was slightly lightened was when one guy said, "We have to do the more intense cycle...I'm guessing that's because of advanced age? She's 42.." and his wife threw up her hands and looked exasperated. Everyone laughed at that.

The medications I am going to be taking are:
Lupron injection- prevents eggs from being released
FSH injection-encourages the development of eggs that are not being released
HMG injection- I honestly can't remember why I take this
HCG one injection -"trigger shot" taken exactly 30 hours before harvest
Medrol pill- steroid that will lower my immune system so it doesn't attack and dispose of the embryo
Antibiotic- one dose given right after harvest so my weakened immune system doesn't get infection from the surgical procedure
Aspirin- Prevents blood clots caused by constant fucking with of my hormones
Progesterone injection- Charlie has to administer these. Hormone that will help my body keep the lining of my uterus thick and sticky enough to maintain the pregnancy
The training made me feel better about the shots I'm giving myself- the needles are small and pretty thin. It made me feel worse, though, about the shots Charlie has to administer.
The progesterone is mixed with oil and has to be injected into the muscle of my hip or top of my thigh. The needle is about as long as my pinkie and is wide so that the oil can get through it. These also take time to give, because the oil has to be slowly plunged into my muscle for absorption. I have to take it daily for the first 8 weeks of the pregnancy. Three of the hormones have to be mixed with water right before they are given. If I mess up and forget a shot or mix it wrong, the whole cycle is blown and I have to start all over again from the beginning. All of the injections have to be given between 6 and 7 pm. Probably want to avoid calling my house during that time. Or anytime, really, during the cycle. Side effects mimick menopause and/or pregnancy.
I don't have my cycle scheduled yet, but I hope to get it scheduled by the end of next week.

My first procedure..

So, I went yesterday for my trial run/mapping and got something called a Sono-hist...It pretty much sucked. It was painful andlasted for over a half an hour. They first inserted a catheter with a balloon on the end and blew up the balloon in my uterus. Then they took it out and inserted another catheter in my uterus and shot a couple of teaspoons of saline solution into it. During those parts of the procedure, I started sweating and it was hard to stay still. I didn't cry, but my eyes did tear up. It all still feels kind of humiliating. There is nothing dignified about two people with 3 medical instruments rooting around inside your body while you try to control your breathing and be still so it doesn't hurt more. I think that infertility, for any reason, male or female, feels shameful. I think everyone who goes through it feels that way, but it could just be me.
During the procedure, they also took pictures of my uterus and ovaries with the ultrasound. Ovaries look like Swiss cheese and the black holes are follicles that release the eggs. The big positive to come out of it was that the doctor and the ultrasound lady, Margaret said I had some of the best reproductive organs they have seen and that while they can't guarantee a baby, they don't see why I would have any trouble getting pregnant.
Last week I gave 6 vials of blood and the results of the testing there said I have a hypo active thyroid, so I do have to go on medication for that. We talked more in depth about my shots. Dr. Baby said I will have to be taking 3 shots a day at some point. I told her I'm scared and don't know if I can do it. She said I'm smart and have handled all of this really well so far and she thinks I can do it. I know she gets paid to say that kind of thing, but it did make me feel a lot better. She was awesome. I left in a lot of pain, but feeling pretty cocky about my fabulous reproductive system. If they had let me, I might have actually brought the photos to show around the office.

A break through!

I am finally feeling something besides dread for the process. I have been completely unable to get out of the infertility funk for the last month or so. I am really excited about being pregnant and maybe having a baby. I even bought a onesie at Graceland last weekend that looks like an Elvis (Vegas style) jumpsuit. that kid doesn't stand a chance where fashion is concerned. I think I am feeling so much better because I finally am getting started. The waiting sucked. Tomorrow I have my baseline blood work done, and next Tuesday, I have my trial run (formerly referred to as vaginal mapping). I am nervous about the trial run, even though my doctor said it's, "not bad, just like a pap smear with a bad cramp". Thanks for the reassurance, but in my world, that qualifies as bad. Maybe not terrible, traumatic, or horrifying, but definitely bad. They did tell me to eat something light before the procedure because they give me 800 mg of ibuprofen before they start. I asked if by, "eating something light", she meant I should take a Valium, but my doctor's secretary, while efficient and very nice, apparently doesn't have much of a sense of humor or humanity.
Charlie can't go with me, because he has to travel for work next week and this, like all things IVF, has to be done according to my menstrual cycle (day 7-10 to be exact)My friend Sarah is going to go in case I don't feel like driving myself home and so I don't hyperventilate while waiting for the procedure to begin. This is very kind of her, and she is a good friend. I am trying to appreciate her now, because I worry that, after living through this with me, she'll start avoiding my phone calls and find someone else to fit into the bridesmaid dress I'm supposed to wear in her wedding next month. I will let you all know how it goes!

In an effort to be as positive as possible, I am making a list of the pros and cons of using IVF. Cons will include everything about the process that scares me, makes me resentful, or uncomfortable. Pros will include any conveniences or happy events that may come out of the experience:
Cons
1. Lots of Shots- some administered by me (scared....OK, terrified)
2. Having baby conceived by mad scientist instead of Charlie and me..(resent and sad)
3. Having lots of strange people/objects in my vagina. (Gross)
4. One of those objects is a giant needle that will be used to pierce my vaginal wall....(gross and horrifying)
5. Potential health risks of hormone injection including stroke and a condition that I don't remember the name of where my abdomen fills with fluid and blow up like a balloon. Requires hospitalization and draining of said abdomen...(afraid..and super gross)
6. Baby making taking place on some doctor's schedule (resent...infuriating actually)
7. Stress on relationship due to all kinds of guilt, resentment, fear, anger feelings induced by this entire process (scared and resentful)
8. Constant fear that if this doesn't work, I am going to have no babies, ever... (making me completely fucking insane)
9. Cost outrageous...(scared and resentful)

Pros
1. Might, possibly have a baby. (ecstatic)

I think I make a compelling case for IVF as an option. They might want to use this list in the commercials.

Charlie's empathy hat

When we went to Jamaica for the first time, on our honeymoon, we saw some inflatable rafts in the gift shop and debated whether to buy them. They were cheaply made and cost $10 USD. I suggested that we just get one and share it. Charlie's exact words were, "I know that by 'share' you mean that you will lay on the raft in the ocean while I stand beside you and turn the raft so you can get the optimal amount of sun on you. I don't want to do that". We bought two rafts. His got a hole in it on the first day and after that, he spent a lot of time standing in the ocean, pulling me, on my raft, behind him. My point is that Charlie knows me. He not only knows me, he understands me. He knows that I get controlling when I feel insecure and that I can't process a single feeling without talking about it for an hour. He knows that I cry almost every time I watch Oprah and that I can't drive the speed limit to save my life.
He knows how much I want to have a baby, but I don't think he can fully understand what I'm going through. I think it might be that he has no biological clock, or the fact that he already has kids, or, it could be because I'm the one who has to be stuck with 589,647 needles in a single month's time and have people rooting around in my lady parts, not once or twice, but approximately 15 times (he also knows that I exaggerate for emphasis when I tell stories). Whatever it is, it's not just hard on me, it's hard on him. I know he wants to be supportive but he doesn't always know how. I also know that on a good day, I am not the easiest person to live with. One morning, on my way out the door to go to work, I yelled at him (after he had brought cigarettes home a fair amount of the time....and I may have even been crying), "I DON'T HAVE TIME TO STOP FOR CIGARETTES EVERYDAY! IF YOU ARE GOING TO SMOKE YOU HAVE TO GET YOUR OWN!". The man is practically a saint.
Anyway, it's hard to find balance with this situation. I want to tell Charlie what I need but I don't want to blame him for my feelings about the issue or take out the frustration I feel on him.
I recently told Charlie that he needs to get his empathy hat on and he needs to do it in a hurry. This came on the heels of one of my bouts of frustration and tears over not being able to get the procedures scheduled. I also have to confess that I am pissed that I have to be the pin cushion and I have no reproductive issues. I made the choice to be with him, I love him and I don't want to have children with anyone else. I knew what I was getting into. I just didn't know it would be this hard (you can see how processing feelings with me might be a bit confusing).
Charlie doesn't read my blog and I was a little hurt by that. Then the other night, I asked him if he read my latest entry and he said to me, "Read it? Baby, I'm livin' it!"

Me and/or God

Good news! I talked to my doctor('s secretary) yesterday and she said they talked to Dr. Fabulous and Charlie's procedure has been moved up an entire month! He is going in on April 13th. I am scheduled for blood testing/vagina mapping on March 25th and we have to go to IVF school on April 1st. The mapping still seems strange. It just doesn't seem that complicated. It's not like they're going to insert the catheter into my vagina, take a wrong turn and end up in my lungs. I wonder if the doctors call themselves the Lewis and Clark of vagina...or the Magellans of the female reproductive system. If I were them, I would. The world should be very glad I'm not a doctor- I would absolutely have the most out of control ego. My doctor says things like, "I have a really cool job and I get to help a lot of people." If I was a baby doctor, I would be more likely to say things to my patients like, "Who can give you a baby? Me and/or God, that's who, so you might want to bring a chocolate cake to your next appointment and do a little praying in your spare time."
I don't know what to think about IVF school. It's actually a one day class/training about reproductive issues. It's not really called IVF school, either, except in my head. It's not just about IVF, and anyone who gets reproductive assistance at our particular hospital has to go through it. My boss went through some reproductive stuff and she attended the class. She said mostly what she remembers is what a terribly sad and desperate group of people were in the class. I guess I should probably watch my mouth. I can be a little crass sometimes and tend to joke a lot when I get uncomfortable or when something is absurd.....I bet they won't let us have a baby if I drop 15 f-bombs or get into some kind of verbal altercation because I can't resist vagina map jokes. Maybe Charlie should go by himself and just take detailed notes...

If Celine Dion can do it...

Celine Dion was on the cover of People Magazine last week. In the article she talks about how she and her very old husband are trying to conceive using IVF. She had a baby several years ago, using IVF, on her first try. Last fall she got pregnant, and then lost the baby. She has tried for the last 4 or 5 months in a row to get pregnant and hasn't been able to. She talks in the article about having bruises on her legs and torso from the repeated injections and says they will keep trying until they get pregnant. I cried when I read the article. It is a true testament to how ridiculous this process is when I am relating to Celine Dion. It is an understament to say I'm not a big fan. No, offense to anyone who likes her, but she creeps me out. Also, her elderly husband (who met her when she was a kid) just smacks of dirty old man. Her songs are syrupy and fluffy and she has, what I find to be, an obnoxious accent. What I can relate to is the desperation that drives someone to be bruised from months of injections and still say, "we will try until we succeed". I am finding desperation to be the common denominator in the IVF and infertility world. It's a strange feeling to be desperate for something that you may never have. I have always believed that I could do, be or obtain anything I wanted. With hard work, support and much determination, I have found that to be mostly true. Now, though, I want a baby more than I've ever wanted any degree, job, relationship, house or car and there isn't enough hard work and determination in the world to make it happen if it's not meant to be. That fucking sucks.

Dr. Baby VS. Dr. Fabulous

I haven't blogged in several days. I have been a little down about the consultation. At the consultation, we heard that Charlie has to have his procedure at the same time that I am undergoing initial testing, and that I could get started as soon as my cycle rolls around. Then, Charlie called his doctor and heard that he couldn't perform the surgery until MAY!! Here's the thing, when you are going through something like this, it becomes the center of your universe. It is exhausting, and my anxiety level about the whole thing is through the roof. I was prepared to be anxious for a little while (it's been almost a year since we started this process), but the calendar in my head had me getting pregnant in April/May, not July/August. By that time, Charlie may put me in a psych unit- both for his safety, and the safety of his children.
I like to think of myself as a take-charge-without-being-controlling kind of girl, but the idea of such a huge event taking place in such and unnatural way AND on someone else's calendar, makes me postal. Here is the issue: Dr. Fabulous (Charlie's doctor- not his real name), ONLY does procedures on Tuesdays. Here is the other issue: We are paying out of pocket for this...So, it occurred to me that performing procedures ONLY on Tuesday is shitty customer service- and in this case, WE are the customer and not at the mercy of some provider agreement between our doctor and our insurance company. Needless to say, I got on the horn. I called my doctor (please note at this point that anytime I say, "called my doctor", I really only spoke to the secretary, because doctors don't actually speak on the phone unless there's cancer involved. Also, they still call them, "secretary"), and I told my doctor (secretary) that I didn't want to wait until May to start this process and could they please recommend another Urologist to do the procedure. My doctor's office tells me that Dr.Fabulous is the only doctor they use. I told her that I didn't want to wait several months to get started and that we would seek services elsewhere (that was a bit of a bluff- I don't even know how many places do this in our metro area and I have heard that this place is the best) She (secretary) said she would
double check and call me back. She called me back to let me know that my doctor (she's actually very nice- let's call her Dr. Baby) is out of town until next week, but when Dr. Baby gets back she will call Dr. Fabulous and try to get him to move the procedure up. I'm sure that in reality, Dr. Baby's Secretary will call Dr. Fabulous's secretary and, together, they will work out the future of my reproduction.
Anyway, I haven't heard back from either of them, yet.

Baby Doctor

I really had no idea what I was getting into.
We went to the doctor for our first consult today. Honestly, I am scared I can't do it. I am trying to be upbeat and lend some humor to the situation, but the appointment today really made me feel overwhelmed. Here's what happens (sorry if some of it is a repeat of earlier writing):
Charlie has a procedure to "harvest" from him. This is a surgery and he will be out.
I go in for extensive blood testing and a "trial run" where they insert the catheter that will be used to implant the embryos in my uterus, to make sure that there is no obstruction and to..wait for it....I'm not kidding...MAP MY VAGINA!!!! Seriously, people. I thought people went to medical school so they didn't need a map to find a uterus!!!!
Then, I take birth control pills for 3 weeks to suppress ovulation. Then I give myself 2 different hormone shots a day for 2 weeks to slam my body into ovulation overdrive (which should be loads of fun for me emotionally). During the hormone therapy, I have to go to the doctor's office every other day, then later, every day for a blood draw and an ultrasound to check out my ovaries. When they determine that the ovaries are ready, they "harvest" me. 3-5 days later I get the embryos implanted. They give me bedpan so that my below mentioned concerns about peeing are taken care of (yes, I asked). THEN, Charlie has to get training on how to administer intramuscular injections of progesterone (my spelling sucks on a good day, but this medical stuff makes it seem even worse. I swear to God, I passed 3rd grade). My doctor said these are the shots that hurt most, but I have to get them so that my body doesn't reject the pregnancy.
The best part about all of this is that the price tag is in the neighborhood of $16,000.00. You read that correctly. The doctor's fees for the procedure is about $9,000.00. Charlie's procedure is $2500.00 and the medications/ hormones for me are $3,000-$4,000.00. Those of you who know us (and if you re bothering to read this nonsense, you probably do) know that we're not millionaires. We have two teenagers in our house, who, with luck and lots of grounding, will go on to college in a few years. Hopefully, we'll have their brother or sister out of lay-away by then.

So, after all of that, how soul crushing would a miscarriage or failure to conceive be?

Rush Limbaugh in the back seat

Charlie has 2 kids that live with us, a daughter- E, who is 12 and a son- L, who is 15. They knew he was having surgery for a reversal and that we were trying to have a baby. We didn't tell them immediately about the problems that we were having following the surgery, partly because it was difficult to talk about and partly because we didn't know how much they wanted to know (this topic sometimes falls into the "gross" category of adult issues). When we started going back to the doctor, E was very curious about why. Finally, when she questioned us about it for the 30th time, in the car, we attempted to explain it in scientific terms:
E: Why did you go to the doctor again?
Charlie: Baby stuff
E: To see if you guys are pregnant?
Charlie: No. The surgery they did on me didn't work right.
E: So, what does that mean?
Me: We have to go see a specialist.
E: But what can they do?
Charlie (looking at me): Well, something called IVF.
E: What's that?
Me (in my best science teacher voice): Well...In Vitro means out of the body. So, they take eggs from the woman and sperm from the man and combine them, then they put them back in-
L (cutting me off and sounding like a disapproving grandma): OH MY GOD!! Are you two having a test tube baby!?
Me (taken aback): Where did you hear about that?
L: on TV
Me (unnerved and haltingly): Well, they are sometimes called test tube babies, but-
E (cutting me off): Is it born from a test tube?!
Me (trying to regain control of this situation): No, it's born from the woman's uterus.
E: Isn't that what Octomom did?!
Me: uh...
Charlie: yes, but..
E (getting super excited):So you guys could have quintuplets!?!
Me: No, we wouldn't use more embryos-
L (cutting me off and now using his best, "you're so stupid" voice): There's only room in a test tube for so many babies, E.

Apparently, we are raising Rush Limbaugh.

I started reading up on IVF. From what I can see, there are a lot of needles involved. It seems I take hormone shots (daily) so that I will do something called "hyper ovulation"- my ovaries get hyper and release a bunch of eggs at once, instead of the monthly one. The thought of daily shots scared me, but as I read more, I realized that the needle I probably need to be afraid of was the giant one that the doctor will use to pierce my vaginal wall and "harvest" the eggs. I think harvest is a bad term. I would prefer "procure, remove, or even gather (although that one has some chicken connotations)". After they remove (harvest) the eggs, they put them in a petrie dish with sperm to get fertilized. Then they put the embryos (how many is up to us), back in my uterus with a ultrasound guided catheter. This requires a full bladder so that the picture is clear on the ultrasound. After the procedure, I have to lay (lie?) on the table for an hour. The obvious main concern is that I don't usually lounge around for an hour with a full bladder. I know, it seems silly, but I really don't want to pee my pants....or gown..
My feeling on the number of embryos implanted is this- we are not religious enough to believe that it's God's plan for us to have a brood of children and I'm not in the market for a TV show..I think 2-3 will be plenty.

At least I'm not a crack whore

After finding out that Charlie's operation wasn't a success, I started blaming myself. I think it's natural, but it might just be me. I told Charlie that I was worried we couldn't have babies because I wasn't a good enough person, which seems ridiculous and irrational because it is. I knew in my mind we wouldn't get pregnant because I didn't have access to sperm, but the emotional side of me wasn't buying that. Charlie asked me what I thought I had done that was so horrible. I started a running list in my head:
I sometimes smoke (a lot)
I sometimes have a glass (or 3 or 4) of wine
I whored around a bit (a lot) in college
I don't exercise enough (at all)
I judge some people (almost everyone) really harshly
I'm sure there's more, but that's as far as I got. Charlie cut me off by gently reminding me that it wasn't about my personality flaws and that "even crack whores get pregnant". That made me feel better..ish.

After a few months of peeing on sticks and being hopeful, then pissed, then dismayed when my period showed up, Charlie went back for his second round of semen analysis. A couple of weeks later, on a Thursday night, I went shopping with L (my 15 year old step-son) to get the ingredients for a Christmas tree-shaped cake. When I got home, as soon as I walked through the door, Charlie said, "I want you to come look at something" and took me to the bedroom.
I thought to myself, "Well, THIS is spontaneous!". As soon as we walked through the door, though, he closed it, and without turning around blurted out, "The urologist called and there was no sperm in the sample."
I wouldn't have been more surprised or confused if I had been hit in the face. I said, "NONE? It only takes one, you know." (Again, not super rational). I went numb with shock, then flooded with grief. We sat on the bed and talked and I cried and cried. The urologist said that there was most likely a blockage caused by scar tissue in the vas deferens that had built up since the last test, that it couldn't be corrected and that the surgery could not be repeated. Our only option was In Vitro Fertilization. We didn't know if we could even afford to do that. I was being cock-and baby-blocked by a bit of scar tissue. In my mind, I suddenly saw my whole life stretched out ahead of me. In place of all those fantasies about tiny feet and fingers and first words that I had been having for months, was a loooong, empty life, like a vacant house where a lively family had once lived. I felt desperate and lonely.
We had kids in the living room, though, and we weren't ready to discuss this with them (or anyone) yet. So I stopped crying and did the only thing that I could think to do...I went into the kitchen and ate my feelings in the form of a Christmas tree-shaped cake.

Baby Negril

We were very excited when we heard about the success of the operation, and I was changing jobs and had some time off, so we decided to go to Jamaica to celebrate and do some serious baby making. On our first night there, we decided that if we conceived in Jamaica, we would name the baby Negril, after the town she/he was conceived in. It had a nice, unisex quality and an exotic ring to it. Then we sobered up and realized we might be a little carried away and that Negril wasn't even a very good name for a dog, never mind a baby.
Once we got back (not pregnant), I started with the ovulation kits. To use an ovulation kit, you pee on a stick first thing in the morning every day, and when the test line is the same color as the control line, it means you have about 24 hours to deliver the goods to the waiting egg. The only problem is that I have a terrible memory for things like taking medicine and peeing on sticks, so the way I used the kit was to stumble into the bathroom, half-asleep, pee and then get into the shower. That was about the time I would remember that I had not used the stick and start cursing the stick (because it really should have reminded me), and/or my poor husband (because if the stick didn't remind me, he really, really should have). I would gently (sometimes using the f-word) remind him that he has a responsibility in this, too. Then, on my way to work, I would call to apologize.
On the times that I did use the stick and the lines matched, we would have what have to be the least sexy sexual encounters in history. The lines NEVER matched on a day when there was time for romantic dinners, wine, and long conversations. Noooo sir. Those lines only matched on days when I had to work 12 hours, traffic was bad, the dogs puked in the living room and the kids had school projects due the next day or meltdowns. I talked to a friend of mine who said getting pregnant was the only time she would say, "Do we have to?" about having sex. She said they called it, "baby-making sex", and that's exactly what it was. I felt so jealous of the couples who would say things like, "Oh, little Mandy was concieved when we were in Aspen- we didn't even suspect I was pregnant until I missed my first period. We had no idea it would happen so quickly after we started trying!" I began to see those people for what they were- arrogant liars. I was even jealous of the girls on Teen Mom- They got pregnant accidentally!!! I'm not proud of it, but it's the truth. For the first time, I understood that this would not be a rational process.

Wait and See People

After the surgery, the doctor met with me while Charlie was still unconscious and told me that there was a 60/40 chance of success. He said, "Sometimes I go in and know immediately that this was successful. Other times, it's a wait and see situation. You guys are going to be wait and see people." We went in for our first test 2 months later, nervous and a bit stressed out. After being told repeatedly by Charlie that no, he can't, "feel it working", I just wanted to know if we could get pregnant.
After testing, the results looked pretty good. We had 4 million sperm in the sample and they had some motility. FYI: Motility is a biological term which refers to the ability to move spontaneously and actively, consuming energy in the process. Most animals are motile but the term applies to single-celled and simple multicellular organisms, as distinguished from animal locomotion....Not the same as mobility. You will be corrected in medical facilities if you try to ask if sperm are mobile. They're not. Apparently they're motile.
Anyway, the goal is to get somewhere in the area of 20 million sperm that show motility, but 4 million, we were told, is normal for 2-3 months after the procedure. So we were a go! We could try and get pregnant. The operation was a success.....

The Reversal

So a vasectomy reversal can be pretty crappy business. It involves urologists who may or may not have matured past Jr. High, general anesthesia, incisions into the man parts, and mesh underpants. It is followed by a long period of celibacy and then masturbation in a cold, sterile environment while people hang around outside the door, waiting for you to finish up so that your virility can be analyzed while you wait. The urologist actually suggested that I could stay in the room while Charlie, ahem, gave a sample. Also, he commented that since the birth of the Internet, old, nasty sears catalogues were no longer needed...Chuckle, chuckle. I didn't mean to be unsupportive, but it was very uncomfortable for me, so, I didn't go with Charlie for the second test....

How we started

We started by falling in love. We met at match.com. Charlie is ten years older than me and already has 3 kids (two of them live with us). When we met, I was 27 and he was 37. He had a vasectomy, he told me over the phone, but he was willing to get it reversed if he met someone who wanted kids. I didn't even know, at that point in my life, if I wanted kids-but I didn't want the possibility ruled out. So I found a job, moved, we got engaged and then married.
After we were married for about 6 months, babies and pregnant women started showing up everywhere I went. I started to realize that I wanted kids of my own very, very much. Charlie went to a urologist to get his vasectomy reversed.