IUI #4

Today was yet another momentous day... IUI #4.  Though S couldn't be with me in person, it was still a smooth and uneventful process.  The doctor this time was a man, one who has performed ultrasounds for me before and isn't particularly my favorite.  But he did a good job with making me feel comfortable, being transparent about each step in the process, and approaching my body gently and with sensitivity.  I experienced only a mild cramp and then laid on my back to wait for a full ten minutes before getting up.



Knees up, with vial.


During the wait, I called S, who had thankfully had just completed an exam at his doctor's office and was available to chat for a few minutes.  "Remember, your body is perfect," he said, in typical loving, supportive, S form.  "And remember that life is wonderful."  His words calmed me and made me smile.  We hung up the phone and I stayed still, knees up, clutching the plastic "souvenir" vial from which our donor sperm came.  I prayed, and breathed, and counted my blessings.  I reminded myself how lucky I am to have the space, time, amazing support, and resources to go through this process of trying to conceive.

As I walked out of the building toward the train, I ran into our primary doctor on the street.  She saw me and smiled, and asked how I was doing.  I chose to take the encounter as a good sign from the universe.

The night before IUI #4

Tomorrow I'm going to the clinic for IUI #4.  But this time, it will be without S.  Due to the complications with his wisdom teeth, he had to reschedule an appointment with his cardiologist for tomorrow - before we knew it was the same day the IUI would be scheduled.  Since he only sees this doctor every 3-4 months, and it takes a while to get an appointment, we agreed it would make sense for him to go see his doctor and for me to go through the IUI alone.  It is a quick procedure, after all, and the doctors barely make eye contact with him, never mind greet him by name or involve him in the process.  So I think it will be fine.  There is a part of me that feels sad that he won't be there for emotional support.  He has been such a huge part of making each of the inseminations go well/smoothly for me.  And, psychologically, there is already so much loss in this medicalized process, that for him not to be there makes me feel he is yet another step removed from the process.  Still, I know it is okay.  I am strong, I am ready to receive our baby and to go through the process knowing that S is sending me his love, and is with me in spirit.  He'll be there to cuddle and comfort me at night when we both get home from work.

Guaiphenesin

Last week, S and I took the day off so he could visit the dentist and have two of his wisdom teeth removed.  While we sat for endless hours in the waiting room, a TV talk show called "The Revolution" aired with a focus on fertility.  I sat up a little straighter in my chair and sushed S when he tried to talk to me about unrelated matters.  I wanted to gather up all the tips I could get. 

In addition to some of the nutrition-related tips I already knew (eat lots of protein and dairy, which I have been doing), the TV doctor mentioned that cough syrup (guaiphenesin) might be a good thing to take around the time of ovulation to help thin out cervical mucous.  So I searched the web for more info.  While it's not backed up by much research, folks say that Clomid can actually increase "hostile" (i.e. thick) mucous, so taking guiphenasin can help make CM more "friendly" to sperm trying to get through the cervix.  However, for folks only trying IUIs (which bypass the cervix), taking this step won't really help.

Nevertheless, I figure it can't hurt to try, right?  Anything I can do for my body to help create a favorable environment for conception is worth it to me.  The prescription: 2 teaspoons of guiphenasin, 3 times per day for five days, with plenty of water.  Let's give it a try.

Professional Reassurance

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.

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.

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. 

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.