I met with our primary doctor at the clinic this morning. And she, more than anything, was incredibly reassuring. I approached her with a long list of questions, and she answered them all with kindness and patience. She studied my chart and declared that there were no particular flags that would indicate why I had not yet gotten pregnant. "It's a numbers and odds game," she said. She assured me that if we were a couple with access to unlimited sperm, I wouldn't have even been tested for infertility until after a year of trying. She affirmed that we could, in fact, keep trying IUIs for a full year, if we had the financial capacity to do so. Since others have reported successful pregnancies with our donor, we don't yet need to consider finding another one. In fact, the only change she suggested was perhaps we could try doing two IUIs during a future cycle - one within 12 hours of using Ovidrel, and one within 36 hours. That might increase our chances.
For the moment, we only have one vial left at the clinic, so we won't be able to try this approach until the next cycle. But I left the clinic feeling much more optimistic than I did walking in.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Cycle #4 Update
It's day 17 of Cycle #4. Our next insemination will likely take place during the next five days. Same routine - 100mg of Clomid, several follow-ups to make sure my follicle(s) are growing. I'm relieved to know that the dominant follicle this time - 17.5mm as of Friday - is in my left ovary. I was getting concerned that perhaps was something wrong with the left side. I'm looking forward to the next try, working on staying hopeful/positive about our chances. And at the same time, beginning to explore new options.
Tomorrow morning I'll be meeting with our primary doctor to talk about where we are in the process. Should we try another IUI if #4 doesn't work? How many more should we do? Should we try inseminating twice during the next cycle? Should we try a different donor? Is is time to start thinking about IVF and/or adoption? I hope she'll offer the support and hope I need right now to help me believe that one of these days, I will actually have the opportunity to be pregnant.
Tomorrow morning I'll be meeting with our primary doctor to talk about where we are in the process. Should we try another IUI if #4 doesn't work? How many more should we do? Should we try inseminating twice during the next cycle? Should we try a different donor? Is is time to start thinking about IVF and/or adoption? I hope she'll offer the support and hope I need right now to help me believe that one of these days, I will actually have the opportunity to be pregnant.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Grief
I am utterly exhausted. Emotionally drained. It has been a rough two days. A roller coaster of feelings have coursed their way through my body. I am simultaneously able to understand that my irrational thoughts are normal at a time like this, and ashamed to be having the thoughts in the first place.
I've been looking at happy couples with babies and toddlers with resentment. I've been feeling bitter about how easy it is for straight people to keep trying to get pregnant with an unlimited supply of fresh eggs and sperm. I've been frustrated with the process of having to take medication that makes my boobs extra sore, my cramps extra persistent, and my mood swings even swingy-er. I've been annoyed that with every two week wait, I've been eating more greens and avoiding alcohol, as if something were actually happening. I've been irritated that I've been taking prenatal vitamins for over two years and stopped drinking caffeine for nothing. I've been hearing every announcement of a friend or acquaintance's pregnancy (or second pregnancy, or third pregnancy) as a personal attack. Every newborn I've seen on Facebook has been another moment the universe is wagging it's nasty finger at me, saying, "see, your parents are right, it isn't normal to be queer!"
In sum, this process of trying to get pregnant - and failing - is bringing forth all my horrible demons. It is feeding into my tendency to catastrophize, to try to control and plan things, to compare myself and my self worth to others, to be a perfectionist. It is bringing up my internalized homophobia. It is tickling my sense of fear and urgency about S's age and his heart condition. It is playing into my frustration with New York City, and how our quality of life is deeply affected by the cost of living here, both economic and emotional.
I've been having a hard time getting out of bed in the morning. I've been walking like a zombie throughout my days. I've been bottling things up. I've been crying.
I am tired. And angry that because of homophobia and transphobia, because of racism and classism, because I've been trying to live my life by other people's timelines and rules and expectations, we didn't try getting pregnant any sooner, even though we were ready.
I'm having a hard time trusting that this is all in the universe's grand plan for me, for us. Even though S has been diligently and patiently reminding me, every single day, that in fact, it is.
I've been looking at happy couples with babies and toddlers with resentment. I've been feeling bitter about how easy it is for straight people to keep trying to get pregnant with an unlimited supply of fresh eggs and sperm. I've been frustrated with the process of having to take medication that makes my boobs extra sore, my cramps extra persistent, and my mood swings even swingy-er. I've been annoyed that with every two week wait, I've been eating more greens and avoiding alcohol, as if something were actually happening. I've been irritated that I've been taking prenatal vitamins for over two years and stopped drinking caffeine for nothing. I've been hearing every announcement of a friend or acquaintance's pregnancy (or second pregnancy, or third pregnancy) as a personal attack. Every newborn I've seen on Facebook has been another moment the universe is wagging it's nasty finger at me, saying, "see, your parents are right, it isn't normal to be queer!"
In sum, this process of trying to get pregnant - and failing - is bringing forth all my horrible demons. It is feeding into my tendency to catastrophize, to try to control and plan things, to compare myself and my self worth to others, to be a perfectionist. It is bringing up my internalized homophobia. It is tickling my sense of fear and urgency about S's age and his heart condition. It is playing into my frustration with New York City, and how our quality of life is deeply affected by the cost of living here, both economic and emotional.
I've been having a hard time getting out of bed in the morning. I've been walking like a zombie throughout my days. I've been bottling things up. I've been crying.
I am tired. And angry that because of homophobia and transphobia, because of racism and classism, because I've been trying to live my life by other people's timelines and rules and expectations, we didn't try getting pregnant any sooner, even though we were ready.
I'm having a hard time trusting that this is all in the universe's grand plan for me, for us. Even though S has been diligently and patiently reminding me, every single day, that in fact, it is.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
HPT #3
I woke up earlier than usual today to take a HPT (it's 12 DPO). It was negative. Again.
I'm not quite sure what to say about it at this juncture. We now know that we will not be giving birth to a baby in 2012. 3 failed IUIs means we need to make an appointment with our doctor to discuss next steps. I'm not sure if we will be able to (or want to) go through any further IUIs. We most likely will need to start thinking about whether to go through IVF or adoption. Both expensive options.
My sense of hope has been diminished. I'm feeling numb and deeply disappointed.
I'm not quite sure what to say about it at this juncture. We now know that we will not be giving birth to a baby in 2012. 3 failed IUIs means we need to make an appointment with our doctor to discuss next steps. I'm not sure if we will be able to (or want to) go through any further IUIs. We most likely will need to start thinking about whether to go through IVF or adoption. Both expensive options.
My sense of hope has been diminished. I'm feeling numb and deeply disappointed.
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