Our hope is alive and well

I did it. I found my hope and it grew in me just like I pray our next miracle does. Today was IUI day. It's an absolutely beautiful, perfect day out: blue cloudless sky, unseasonably warm, and just the slightest hint of a breeze. While Jason was at the clinic donating his, er, sample, I ate my breakfast out on the patio, dog at my feet, Mumford & Sons blasting in my ears: The Cave, Little Lion Man, and After the Storm. Jason came home, and we went for a bit of stroll to take in the beautiful morning. Before we left for the clinic, I danced around our apartment like an idiot to release some pre-procedure jitters. It worked. I felt calm and ready.

The IUI itself went very smoothly. Jason's sample was great again (less sperm this time than last time by almost half but still well above average post-wash) and the sperm were once again activated at time of "retrieval". I asked what that meant and he said it's what he prefers to see in a sperm sample - that he classifies activated sperm as "higher quality". Good to hear. When I asked about Jason's dropped numbers from last time, the doctor said it's common for numbers to fluctuate, and he assured us that although we've gotten used to seeing super high numbers, the number we saw for today's procedure was still great and well above average. My cervical mucus was also good, so all in all, it was a good effort. We gave it our best shot, and now we'll wait and see what the next 16 days brings.

Jason and I really prefer this doctor to our first. Not only is he more personable, but he said, "So sperm and egg met up last time, which is a huge accomplishment, but we'd like this pregnancy to cooperate with us a bit more." He's already referring to this cycle as '"this pregnancy" - the positive attitude is so encouraging and refreshing, and even though nothing is guaranteed, we were certainly thankful for his optimism.

I asked for the day off, so I've spent the morning on the couch watching Cold Case Files and I Love Lucy re-runs. I plan to loaf around and lie low, being sure to send my uterus, egg, and the little sperm swimming frantically in search of their target, lots of loving vibes.

These next 16 days will be some of the longest days. They always are. But our hope is renewed. With each other, all of you, and hope alive and well in our souls and hearts, we can get through anything. Please, please let this be the month we conceive our baby. Please please please. We've been waiting such a long time to meet our miracle.

Another lone egg

I had my ultrasound today and I have one egg on the right ovary that will reach maturity (it is 15mm as of this morning and will reach the target 18-22mm by Friday). Quite a few smaller ones on my left ovary, but they won't get big enough in time. I am frustrated. I am disappointed and disheartened. Yes, I know we got pregnant last time with just one egg but I think know we were lucky. The odds aren't so great with just one. And look how great that one turned out. It's upsetting that I am taking 5mg of Femara, which I believe is the highest dose I can take, and I'm only getting one egg. ONE. I don't ovulate on my own, nor do I produce eggs of mature quality on my own so I am dependent on medication that only ends up giving me one lousy egg.

Anyway. I trigger tomorrow night at 8pm (which I'm worrying about because what if my egg releases mid-day on Thursday and it's no good by the time I get my IUI Friday morning??) and then the IUI is Friday morning around 9am. I am taking the day off so I will be free to lounge about and keep my tootsies elevated.

I don't know what's wrong with me. I feel like this cycle is doomed before we even try and that's not a healthy outlook. I went from looking at our Golden Egg last August with rose colored glasses on to looking at this lone egg today and not being satisfied. The experiences were much the same: one egg. I got pregnant on the one egg. I should be happy we have an egg at all. But I'm not because I know that eggs produced by women with PCOS aren't always good eggs. They're oftentimes bad. And if we had more than one egg to release for our IUI, I'd feel like our odds were better. I feel defeated and crushed and I don't like that because it's not even giving this little eggie a chance to prove me wrong. And it's not fair to my hubs to go in to this procedure all doom and gloom.

How do I change this outlook? I think our miscarriage has further jaded me - I don't see how it could not be a factor in my negative thinking right now. I need help getting into a positive mindset before Friday....

Miscarriage testing results - 4 months later

I finally decided to call the ER regarding the results of the testing done on my tissue/products of conception that I submitted the night of my miscarriage. I don't know why I did it today. Tomorrow is my birthday so maybe I was just feeling...I don't know. I really don't.

According to the nurse I spoke to, the testing is designed to check for abnormalities present. There were none. My tissue was labeled "normal products of conception." The egg sac was present, but no embryo had yet formed. I kind of already knew that much. She also said my negative blood type (B-) is an issue that will need to be watched with any subsequent pregnancies, which I also knew. The thing she said that makes me regret calling at all was this: "There was an egg sac, but an embryo had not yet formed, so basically the cells were still trying to multiply and it wasn't happening correctly. So really, you didn't have a baby yet."

I didn't have a baby yet. I didn't have a baby yet. 

Her words made me feel foolish. Like I've spent the last 4 months mourning something that never was. Like I've been overly dramatic, that the anguish I felt and still feel wasn't real, wasn't warranted. Like the necklace I wear around my neck in remembrance of a life lost is really in remembrance of an almost baby. But the thing is, it was a baby to us. It was real to us. It mattered to us. It still does, and always will. What was also real was the dream that had finally been realized. An egg implanted into the lining of my uterus after combining with sperm. I had a very high HCG level. Cells were beginning to multiply. It was going to be somebody. Our somebody. It just didn't quite make it. 

I'm upset. I shouldn't have called. I feel like I've been socked in the stomach, like I've been told I've been ridiculous for grieving for something that wasn't even there to begin with. But I don't believe that. I believe life starts at conception, and we had "normal products of conception" therefore, we conceived.  It was real. It may not have been an actual baby yet, but it was ours, and it had a soul. The good news is that our results were normal, nothing abnormal was found. I have to focus on that part. We will get our baby, and I still believe our baby in heaven is there watching over us, regardless of what that ER nurse had to say about it.

Fear, and the fervent hope of joy

In my last post, I mentioned my many emotions surrounding beginning again. I guess I feel the need to write this post as a kind of cleanse; a way to get the negative emotions out so that I can better focus on the positive, because I cannot go into this next IUI already feeling defeated. I cannot, and I will not. It's not fair to me, nor is it fair to Jason. The fear needs to be pushed aside to let hope take over and do what she does best: inspire. Besides, I like hope better, she keeps much better company.

First, the ugly, cankerous fear. I'm terrified we'll conceive again, only to have it end in heartbreak, as it did in October. I'm so afraid that I'll never see our biological children, that each time we're blessed with a pregnancy, I'll miscarry. I'm afraid to endure another miscarriage, both emotionally and physically. I'm afraid that I'll get further along in a pregnancy the next time and then suffer another loss. I'm so afraid to allow myself to hope, to let myself be vulnerable to the possibility of our dream coming true. After so much pain and disappointment, you begin to build a shield of sorts around yourself to serve as protection from anything negative that may come your way. If you expect the worst, you'll be ready when it comes. If you expect bad things to happen, if they do, you won't be taken off guard, and if they don't, you'll be pleasantly surprised. And yes, I am aware of how awful that sounds. My glass at times has seemed overwhelmingly half empty. But the thing about experiencing what we have is that after a time, the bad somehow eclipses the good and it becomes difficult to find the silver lining. And I'm not just referencing my infertility. My heart health has played a huge role in the latter half of this journey, and it is tough, and it will make whatever pregnancy I am blessed to experience more challenging, because not only will I have the fear of miscarriage looming over my head but I will have the "I sure hope my heart can handle this" fear as well. My cardiologists believe all will be well, but I will be closely monitored. Because of my heart/pacemaker, I am labeled a moderately high risk pregnancy and will need to schedule high risk appointments with my cardiologists at UCLA when the time comes...which actually is more reassuring than scary when I think about it. More opportunities to ensure that all is well, right? Right.

More fear. September 19th, 2011 was one of the happiest days of my life. When we found out I was pregnant, I was elated. Truly, it was a level of joy that I hadn't felt in a very long time. But right away, I was afraid. Right away, it didn't seem real. At all. And I'm not sure if it was because it had taken so long for our dream to become a reality, that when it did happen, it was so surreal that it had to sink in with time, or if maybe somehow I knew. Knew that it wasn't going to last. Knew that it wasn't meant to be in the end and I had to prepare myself for the worst. Mother's intuition? Maybe. Fear taking over my brain and refusing to let anything good in as a way to protect myself from sadness and disappointment? Perhaps. I'll never really know which one it was, and I suppose it doesn't really matter. Wondering which it was won't change what is. I'm afraid I'll feel that way again should we be blessed with another pregnancy. And yet, I can't allow myself to feel that way next time. I just can't. It was a horrible way to spend what I now reflect upon as a very blissful period in my life and I wasted it by being fearful. Yes, as it turned out I had cause to be fearful, but I can try my damnedest to not let it chew me up and swallow me whole.

The flip side to all of this angst? Hope. Beautiful, sparkly, enduring hope.

Hope. The thing with glorious white feathers that alights in my soul and simply refuses to completely abandon me. The thing that lights the way on my darkest of hours, that encourages me to get up, wipe away my tears, and try again, that next time, it will be different. The thing that shines with golden, glittery strength and urges me to do that which I fear I cannot, once more, twice more, until it works. Joy, unbridled and pure. I felt it once, I will feel it again. I must believe I will feel it again. The dream of holding our child in my arms, of taking in it's beautiful face and knowing that it is ours, the true embodiment of our love for one another, that dream sometimes feels close enough that if I were to reach out and really stretch, I could touch it, make it real. I crave the knowledge that it was all worth the wait, worth the pain, worth the long, unforgiving journey. I yearn to know that this path we're on, this road with it's many dips and turns, is where we're meant to be, that it will eventually lead us to the baby we're meant to have. The hope. It's there. I can feel it. It does wan, but it also glimmers and shines. The thought that 9 months from now, we could be welcoming our baby into the world, that is what keeps me going. I have to believe it. I have to envision it. If I don't, if we lose all hope, what else do we have? I am meant to be a mother, and Jason, a father. That I know without question. We have too much love to give. So we will hold on to hope, even if all I have is the tiniest of frayed threads.

Yes, my emotions about being back here again are many. But, we have to consciously choose to hope for the best, and leave the rest up to what is meant to be. Like it or not, that is all we can do.

It came!! Yippee!

Yes, it came. Finally. Today is CD 1 and I begin my Femara (5mg) on Sunday. Yip to the eeeee :)

Here's the breakdown of what's to come:

1) 5mg of Femara CD 3 - 7.
2) Ultrasound on Tuesday, February 21st @ 8am with Dr. Awesome {yep, I asked to see the Dr. who did our successful IUI last year and ditched Dr. Sunshine - thanks be to GOD}. This will be CD 12, so we'll be checking on egg growth/progress.
3) If the egg/s are mature enough, I'll get my HCG shot in the behind on the 21st, and have my IUI on CD 13, February 22nd. If not, I'll do my HCG shot at home (go Jason!) either Wednesday or Thursday, which would mean our IUI will end up being either Thursday, Feb. 23rd or Friday, Feb. 24th.

So. I am both excited and nervous. Actually, I have many more emotions than just those two, but I'll save those for another post. Honestly, it's overwhelming to be back on this journey again, but we're ready. We have each other, and we have all of you. I'll keep everyone posted. We so appreciate all of your love and support!

I feel like I'm going to pop

First of all, the faintest of faint tinges appeared on my toilet paper tonight. You never think you'll be happy to get your period until you've skipped a month (or 2, or 3) and you're not pregnant, but just waiting waiting waiting for your body it get it's freaking act together. Hopefully, in a few days, it'll actually commit and start so we can get this show on the road already.

Guys, I am so overwhelmed. I hate my current temp job. My boss makes me feel this small on a daily basis. Jason is waiting to hear from the schools he applied to for his doctorate and it's slow going, which is driving us both bonkers. Waiting is so hard! Not knowing where we'll be in 5 months, (you know, where we'll be living, working, a whole new state/city) or if we'll be moving, is making me crazy. I like to plan and this whole situation is not my cup of tea.  It's the anti-plan plan. UGH. This whole period thing (or absence of my period) is making me an emotional wreck and has also bloated me up beyond recognition, to the point where my belly doesn't feel like it's mine anymore, and my clothes don't fit. Money is tight. My health insurance goes up 10% in April and I need to switch to CalCobra because I've exhausted Cobra benefits. {Because of my heart surgeries and pacemaker, I don't qualify for individual insurance, and since I'm not working and Jason is a student at a school that doesn't offer health care benefits for spouses of students, I have to pay up the WAZOO for HMO health insurance, to the tune of $1100 a month}. Did I mention I'm the only one working because he's a full time student and his schedule doesn't allow for him to hold a job?? Lastly, which really is the straw currently breaking this poor camel's back, I am a mentor to my sorority from college and there is major drama there that is leaking in to my life and taking over. So. I can't breathe and it sucks.

One day at a time....

Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

Today is CD 53. I am on day 8 of my provera and, as you may have already guessed, my period has yet to arrive.

{insert scream here}

I've taken provera two times in the past and each time, it kicked in by or before day 5. So, I called my clinic today and spoke to a nurse, who said that it may take up to 2 weeks (!!) from the day of my last provera pill for my period to arrive. If it doesn't arrive after 2 weeks, then I'm to call them and schedule an appointment, at which time they will most likely try a different medication or increase the provera dosage...and I'll have to take it again.

{insert 2nd, more agonizing scream here}

Guys, I am soooooo over this. I can't even begin to tell you how ironic it is that the 2 cycles prior to this one were textbook perfect when it didn't matter, and now that this cycle should be our IUI cycle, it's simply nowhere to be found.

Please keep us in your thoughts. This is just so frustrating. I know it's only February 1st but due to this less than impressive start, the small bit of hope I've mustered together since our loss is beginning to dribble away.  :(