CD1 of IVF # 6...

Seriously 6? Soon I'll be in double digits.

Today's the start of the most promising cycle to date...other than San Francisco which I thought would be a sure thing. Maybe just this once things will go smoothly. Maybe I'll have an explosion of follicles - like 12 - that would be an explosion of epic proportions in my world.

Lets face it - numbers is where its at this round. I need LOTS to put back...not just one (which I hate to say is more likely than anything) - but 4 or 5 or 6... So come on ovaries don't fail me this time! MAKE. ME. PROUD.

The "Announcement"

We've all been there. It starts out innocently enough...a nice dinner, a walk in the park, a phone call, only to be blindsided by the news of a pregnancy. As difficult as it is for me to admit, or explain, this is probably the most painful part of the TTC process.

Most women don't have to endure never-ending announcements because they too, eventually become pregnant. Maybe even a SuperFert with a killer competitive streak might have experienced the twinge of jealousy by someone TTCing at the very same time. They won. The beat you to the punch. Ouch right? I figure most women actively TTC will probably feel a pinch of sadness for themselves - even if they know it's just a matter of time.

For people like me, announcements bring all kinds of miserable emotions to the surface. Its such a hard place to be because I don't want the person to think I'm not happy for them. OF COURSE I'M HAPPY FOR THEM. I wouldn't wish infertility on my worst enemy. Four years ago I would plaster on the happiest face I could muster and pray I wasn't being transparent. Then I got really good at it - and really good at PREDICTING it. I basically assumed everyone was pregnant and everyone would announce. That way I wouldn't be blindsided - it was absolute self-preservation. I even would tell someone "I bet ____ is pregnant." so I could later hear, "you called it!" Somehow this lessened the blow...

I've played the game for years now, and I'm so tired. I'm tired of feeling my throat close shut and my stomach squeeze tight while I slap a smile across my face, wishing the ground would swallow me whole. I'm tired of choking back tears and wishing for it all to be over so we can move onto talking about something else. I'm tired of being the only person who can't talk about her pregnancy or brag about her kids. And I'm really tired of putting my friends in a position where they can't really talk freely about their lives, for fear of hurting my feelings. I wouldn't blame them if they secretly all wanted to get together without me...although I know they never would. It must be difficult for them too, wondering how to be around me, praying they don't say something wrong.

I never wanted anyone to walk on eggshells around me - I figured it would be the fastest way to isolate myself and I know I'm right. For the most part I think I've accomplished this by being an open book about infertility and for not taking offense to anything. I try my very best to feel genuine happiness when someone announces their pregnancy, but on the rare PMSy, planets-not-aligned, lack of sleep occasion I just can't do it. I guess this post is to explain that someone like me would never want to appear a spoil sport over someone else's blessing. Don't take it personally, it has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with someone like me going through something like this. I say this now because I've decided I can't keep pretending I'm OK all the time. Announcements kill me. Sorry - but you have to know and understand this. So if you announce a pregnancy to me, just expect me to be upset, and I'm sorry in advance if I've ruined your happy moment - trust me I never wanted to be in this situation.

Just know that I'm not upset because you're pregnant, I'm upset because I'm not.

Love to all my friends and family,
xo

Drama Queen

I tend to be dramatic - its a good thing. It makes me more interesting. No that's not me in the picture although I wish it were. She has fabulous hair and is probably ripe with fertility.

I think the only person who doesn't appreciate my dramatic flair is Chris (for obvious reasons) ...and maybe my dad...although thankfully the days of storming off in a teenage sized rage and using a foot to slam the bedroom door are long behind me.

I get worked up see...and that's when things get out of hand. I thought that the doctor was pulling a fast one on me...that he might be all talk and no action. The more I thought about it, the more I compared this experience to the one I had at Lifequest. You have to agree that this last IVF attempt was a bit of a shitshow. Nothing worked, I didn't have a good response, I didn't feel like things were any different, and it got canceled. Not a very good first impression after a year of hearing "we can do better."

So we had the meeting with the doc and I was prepared to get to the bottom of this...demand some answers. I started out strong, tough, but I quickly realized I was way out of my league...that I am not a medical genius, rather I am a college educated fashionista who rarely reads the newspaper. I sensed an irritation from the doctor (one thing I am VERY good at is reading people - they don't teach THAT in school) and backed right off. I turned my bulleted list of zingers into concerns which ended up a much more effective approach. Turns out I was really quite off-base about a lot of things and that there is a lot more finesse and consideration. It's the part we don't see... the "how much effort is the doctor putting towards us, and only us?" part. I guess I am a little jaded having just come from the Lifequest Assembly Line.

The bottom line is that I am 40, and the doctor can only do so much with what my body is willing to offer. We're hoping I will "trend" like I did at Lifequest and that this next IVF will be much more fruitful after a priming cycle. Last time I got 13 follicles after a priming cycle...wouldn't that be great?! Go ovaries go!

The Five Stages of Grief

I was pleasantly surprised and just a little embarrassed to discover that people are still checking my site on a regular basis. How do I know this? It’s a fancy little program called Google Analytics. It tells me on any given day just how many people have popped their heads in. You’ll be interested (and perhaps relieved) to know it does not tell me who...all I know is that yesterday 25 people logged on while I stared into space and picked my teeth.

Sssssssorry.

Clearly, I have let my faithful followers down by not giving them an IVF update, or at least something to read when they can’t stand to do another moment of work. It’s just that these downtimes are necessary for me to put closure on the past and to gear-up for the future. Think of it like the 5 stages of grief…

Denial
What do you mean I’m not pregnant? I totally am – I can feel it kicking.

Anger
WTF I’m not pregnant? Chris this is all your fault.

Bargaining
If I was pregnant, I swear I would never EVER raise my voice to it. (pffft…ok.)

Depression
I’m old…I’m barren…God, I REALLY hate my new haircut…blaaa blaaa blaaa

Acceptance
Chris: What’s for dinner?
Lisa: Chardonnay.


Tomorrow we have a “follow up” meeting to review last month’s debacle-turned-IUI/lets call it a “primer” cycle that has me a little twisted in the knickers. I want to know lots of things…but mostly I want to know what was so different about this protocol? There was so much talk about how Lifequest dropped the ball, and so much assurance that "they could do better" ...but when it got right down to it, nothing was very much different at all. And the part that really annoyed me, was that when it came time to talk “uterus lining”, which is of utmost importance to an implanting embryo, it was “too thin”. How the eff did that happen? We get to the very end and then the uterus isn’t ready? No. This is NOT GOOD ENOUGH. Tomorrow we’ll be needing some answers, or this will all be called off.

Wish us luck.

Raising Arizona

“Her loins were a rocky place where my seed could find no purchase.”

Aaah Raising Arizona... A classic comedy about a couple’s unstoppable desire for family, no matter what the stakes. But strangely enough, infertility never crossed my mind..until last night when I watched it again for the first time in 20 years. “Ed”, played brilliantly by Holly Hunter, is deemed “barren” by her doctor and spirales into an abyss of depression. Then there’s the part I remember – they steal one of a set of quintuplets with the notion that they have more baby than they can handle, and surely they wouldn't notice if one went missing (a win-win no?)

I recall watching this movie in Grade 12, and I probably glazed over the word “barren” without giving it a second thought. I’m not even sure I would have known what it meant. It’s amazing how blind we are to things that don’t affect us personally. They cease to exist in our tiny little bubbles - until they do - and then it's like we’re the only person to ever have fallen victim.

But at the stupid (and fertile) age of 17, I thought nothing of it. It didn’t exist in my tiny world of happiness, hormones and boys…and I was too pleased with my own existence to ponder any future possibilities. I’m not even sure I could have felt empathy for someone who may have struggled from it, and felt the loss I currently feel every day. It just wasn’t something I could relate to. Now I watch that movie with a whole new set of eyes wide open… It's an over-exaggerated, campy and hilarious version of what Chris and I are currently going through. Unfortunately for Ed and Hi, their fertility options were slim to none, forcing them to take matters into their own hands. Thank god for 22 years, modern medicine and a decent income…the *legal* options are a lot broader.

Nothing of Consequence

Well….this is awkward. What to say…what…to…say…

I have three weeks before starting up the next IVF, but surely I can come up with some witty and non-follicle related tidbits to tide you over… I have been literally FROZEN at the keyboard, void of thought, void of anything newsy or noteworthy. I thought, well I’ll write about fashion, but what more is there to say about fashion other than apparently pants are out? There’s a whole bottoms-are-not-required movement right now courtesy of La Lohan and other L.A. trashionistas. I like to consider myself atop of the trends, but crotchless ensembles just don’t fly when a) you work in an office and b) you’re 40.

I thought about discussing photography, but meh… I’m uninspired. What about cooking? Well even the dinner party I have grand designs for might be replaced with a quick order from Pizza Hut and a desire to just get shitfaced (oh relax I won’t, although secretly I know the guests wouldn’t mind)… So anyway, the point is that it doesn’t leave much to quip about… I could gossip about the people in my life, but unless I want to stir up a big old bag of mess, and lose my measley, but loyal readership, I’d best not.

I think I need to spare you from my mind running amuck and stick to the subject at hand. So hang in there…just a few more weeks and we’re back in (baby) business!

Plan P.1.c.

Ok...so back to the drawing board. Our next plan of attack is IVF AFTER a priming cycle. That's what we're calling this past month - a primer...and I better be primed and ready like I've never been before, because otherwise I think my head might explode.

Our next cycle will start beginning of November. Our friends P&N invited us to Vegas for her 40th birthday. We were on board - we didn't care about the money because we are in over our heads as it is. We felt like this was a one-shot opportunity to do Vegas, in style, and with friends. Bit of a dream for me (except that I've missed my opportunity to see Celine Dion. Don't judge me.)

Anyway, turns out that I will be on injections and needing to be monitored when we are to be in Vegas and this just doesn't work. Plus I want to be able to have a glass of wine with dinner, or a drink by the pool, or get all exhausted saying up dancing til god knows when, or come home as the sun is rising - you know, Vegas stuff...but it is not to be. We can't even suspend the IVF because we'll lose the effects of the priming cycle. Believe me I've thought through all the options.

So, instead of Vegas we stay home for another round of full-filled injections. I wish IVF were more of a sure thing...like winning money in Vegas.