This Will Be: An Adventure

I had the most wonderful feeling when I woke up this morning. As I went about my usual routine of getting ready for the day, I was filled to overflowing with the realization that I had everything I needed to create a baby right there *inside my body*. Wow. All statistics aside, it is AWEsome to feel full with the possibility of life.

I was a little worried about the timing of the trigger-- the interval between the shot and the scheduled IUI seemed too long. But I have to say that now, post-IUI, most of those worries have melted away.

I had serious ovulation pains today that began an hour or two after the IUI and lasted almost all day. That means our timing was good, right? Oh how I wish I had Google at my disposal right now!

We had our first IUI this morning, just a bit before 9 am. We got to the RE's office about 8:30, and after some confusion about whether I was supposed to get blood drawn (I wasn't, and thankfully the tech figured that out before the needle went into my arm), they took us back to a room.

The room was tiny-- barely enough space for Sylvia, the nurse, and me. The nurse showed us the syringe of sperm, verified the donor number, and connected it to the catheter. Then she left and I got undressed and up on the table to wait.

Sylvia and I were both full of nervous energy. This manifested in me being fidgety and in my wife singing silly lovemaking songs to me ("I want to sex you up", to name but one; I laughed and then said perhaps she should pick a different song for this particular occasion).

When Dr. P came in, he was all business. He shook our hands and then plopped down on the little stool by my feet to get started. The whole thing took less than five minutes.

Right when it was time to actually inseminate, Dr. P handed the reins to my wife. She held my hand with one hand while pushing the plunger with the other. It was a wonderful experience, and my sweet Sylvia was positively beaming.

They let me lay on the table afterward for as long as we wanted. I had a plane to catch (ugh), so I stayed laying down for just a little over half an hour. On the walk back to the car, Sylvia stopped to get coffee (for herself-- no caffeine for me right now) while I went straight to the car to lay down. When she got to the car she found me in the passenger's seat as flat as I could get with my feet up on the dash. That gave her a good laugh.

On the drive back home I basked in the sun-- it was a picture-perfect day, weather-wise-- and of course pulled out my cell phone to capture the moment (too bad you can't see how blue the sky was)...

After a disappointing early morning appointment (according to what I am realizing are imperfect measurements, my lead follicle had not grown at all in 2 days), it was an anxiety-filled day for us. Thankfully it ended well with a call from the nurse giving us the go-ahead to trigger tonight. I hate needles with a passion, but Sylvia did a great job. Thank goodness I didn't have to look at the needle as it was going in!

Here are the stats from this morning--
Follicles
L: 17 mm and 13 mm
R: all less than 10

Lining: 13 (Sylvia said the nurses' faces lit up when they said that it was "great!")

Bloodwork
E2: 167 (yes, this is low-- each mature follicle should = 200)
Progesterone: 0.4
FSH: 4.7

Ovidrel (hCG trigger): 8:10 pm

IUI scheduled for 8:30 am Sunday! Three cheers for weekend hours at the RE's office!

Hopefully I'll have some time to come back and fill in the gaps on this post, but just so I don't forget the relevant details...

Follicles (Sylvia took notes during the ultrasound, and wrote "I love my wife!" at the top. Awwww...)
L: 18, 11, 11, three less than 10 mm
R: 11, 11, five less than 10 mm

Bloodwork
E2: 124
Progesterone: 0.4
LH: 5.5

They want us to come back Friday for another ultrasound and round of bloodwork, and bring the trigger shot again. If we trigger Friday morning, we'll do the IUI Saturday.

And: We have sperm! And it is currently sitting in the RE's lab awaiting our IUI appointment!

It was a crazy morning-- an hour of driving from the RE's office (after the ultrasound) out to the sperm bank then another hour back to the RE's office, hauling the tank in to the office (full) then back to the car (empty, but not any lighter!), then making a mad dash for work (yep, super late). I tell ya, there is nothing like hauling a heavy tank of swimmers 5 blocks... in the rain... wearing a suit... and 3 1/2 inch heels.

I got a kick out of seeing our car all loaded up with baby-making equipment, and snapped a quick picture on my cell phone. The white container held the trigger shot, the gray container held the swimmers, and the blue file box holds my brain together (it has all our paperwork, notes from appointments and phone calls, rejection slips from the insurance company, etc.).

I was pretty proud of how I'd been handling the Clomid crazies... until tonight. I totally lost it at dinner when I couldn't get my burrito re-wrapped after it came apart. Poor Sylvia, she was struggling to hide the "you can't be serious!" look on her face while simultaneously trying to talk me down.

After we got home (yes, I made her pack up our food right then and there and take it home for us to finish) I apologized. She just looked at me and smiled. I love my tolerant wife!

Wow. It is really here. The week of our first insemination. I don't know why, but I am a ball of nerves this morning!

We have always expected that it will take a long time to get me pregnant. But even though we still acknowledge that that is a very real possibility, our aggressive plan for this cycle (directly to meds, which we were not originally planning to do) has brought up some "what ifs" for us. Primarily: What if I do get pregnant on our first try?

We have both spent so long tiptoeing around the pool of optimism, not daring to touch the cool sweet water, that dipping our toes in seems bizarre. And yet, statistically speaking, it is possible that this will work. If we didn't think there was some chance of success, we wouldn't be trying, right?

This past weekend we allowed ourselves to speak aloud some of our optimistic and hopeful thoughts. It was scary and strange and wonderful. There is a big piece of me that wishes we could just let go entirely, dive headlong into the pool, and enjoy the happiness we'd find there. But we are too guarded against heartbreak, too aware of the realities of this world, to let go like that. It would be nice, though, just once...

We have a plan. Yowza.

1500 mg Metformin/day
100 mg Clomid/day for 5 days (starting today, CD4)
Ovidrel trigger
One IUI
Possible progesterone supplementation (dependent on post-IUI bloodwork)

I can hardly breathe.

I can be so impatient sometimes! Today is Dr. P's first day back in the office. I know he's probably swamped, and in all fairness it is only 10:30 am, but I just want that phone to ring! I want to know what the plan is for this cycle more than anything right now.

My goal is to sit on my hands till 1:00 (3:00 if I can make it, but I doubt that!) and then call.

Tick tock tick tock...

ETA: I made it to 11:45 am *hangs head in shame*. But on the up-side, I am now officially on his call-back list. :)

Farewell, February cycle!

CD1: Feb. 8
Positive OPK: Mar. 24
FF O date: Mar. 25 (CD46)
CD61: Apr. 9

Hello, April cycle!

"The Incubator" is the name my lovely wife Sylvia has taken to calling me. Most days, I like the name; it sounds hopeful to me still. I am the one we are trying to get pregnant. All of our proverbial eggs are in this one basket (me), as my wife had a hysterectomy many, many moons ago.

I was talking the other day with a friend who is in the same situation (she is the only one who can carry; her partner cannot), and we were commiserating about the pressure that that can sometimes bring. While many of our friends are able to switch partners if one is not able to get pregnant (and some have, with success), we are stuck. It is us or... nothing. Success or failure is in our hands alone. There is no plan B for a bio child.

So a little bit about me, fertility-wise:
I was diagnosed with PCOS in 2005. As someone who has always wanted children, the news was difficult to hear. Sylvia's support meant the world to me, but I walked through a peculiar kind of private grief. I had long suspected something wasn't quite right (it was bleeding every day for four solid months that had led me to the gyn's office), but a Googleable diagnosis was a different animal entirely.

I mourned, then threw myself headlong into my career. (I do that sometimes-- use work to fill up the holes in my heart.) For the next several years I pushed and pushed my way up the ladder, coming to rest in the position I hold now: a comfortable place (more or less) to stop while we try to have a child. At every step Sylvia and I talked about what the promotion would mean for our family plans, and, in part, it was knowing that we might have a rough go of it that led us to decide I should take each one. It wasn't so much putting Baby on hold for Career, as it was pursuing Career to guard against the possibility of a long journey to Baby. Plus, we figured, a little extra income would help when it comes to paying the doctor bills.

So here we are, ready to start, peering into the infertility tunnel.

I've been temping since May of 2008, and in that time have ovulated a whopping five times. When I've ovulated, it's been "late ovulation"-- none have occurred before CD21. This, as some may recognize, is not a particularly good place to start.

February 2009 brought a visit to my gyn to get the ball rolling prior to our intended start date of April 2009. Pap, TV ultrasound, anovulation panel, fasting glucose, and CMV test were all ordered. In the past, I've had these ultrasounds done at a place where they would subtly turn the screen away from my curious eyes once the tech reached my ovaries and caught her first glimpse. This time, there was a monitor on the wall. And there they were in all their glory: 27-inch images of my ovaries stuffed full of cysts. I drove to work that day with tears running down my face.

The gyn prescribed 1500 mg of Metformin per day and told us to come back in a couple of months.

Feeling like we didn't/don't have "months" to spare, we high-tailed it to the RE. We'd met our RE, Dr. P, in 2007 at a "Maybe Baby" class. He seemed very genuine, knowledgeable, and proactive, and we thought at the time that he might be a good RE for us. Our initial consult was mid-March, and after seeing the lab and ultrasound results from the gyn (finally-- they had not faxed them over as promised in advance of our consult), he ordered a few more tests. Those were done (see last post) and so here we are, waiting to begin our first cycle.

The last test results I was waiting for are in.
17-OH progesterone: 139
DHEAS: 229
Dr. Google says both are within "normal" range, but no word from a real Dr yet. Unfortunately, Dr. P is on vacation till next Tuesday (sigh).

The nurse was very nice, and agreed I could come in for CD3 bloodwork even though we don't have a defined plan yet. Looks like it may be a non-medicated cycle this time around by default. I'm trying to not be disappointed, but the prospect of taking up all of April and all of May for one cycle (a "good" cycle for me is 60+ days) is a little disheartening.

When I am getting to know a new blog, the first thing I do is go back to the beginning. I'm looking for that critical nugget of information, the pithy statement that tells me who this person is and why they are blogging. So here goes...

I am a 30-something woman (Christine) married to a wonderful 40-something woman (Sylvia) and we are embarking on the adventure of a lifetime: trying to have a baby. We don't know how it will all turn out or where we will end up, but we are holding our collective breath and daring to hope for a child to call our own.

For the moment, this blog is a place for me to remember things-- events, emotions, everything-- huge turning points and mundane details alike. I have a terrible (terrible!) memory. I have been through several incredible journeys in my life, each time neglecting to keep a journal or log, thinking "surely I will remember this always" only to have the memory whisked away by time and stress and new memories that seem to crowd out old ones.

But I don't want to forget this.

And so here I am, in this not-yet-public space, capturing memories. Some day I may make this blog public. But for now, it is simply this: a place for me, for my wife, for our Adventure.
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