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.....