Project Recognition

A few years ago I was having one of those times when I felt like I was under appreciated at work. I was also dealing with primary infertility and the combination of fertility hormones and disappointment was taking its toll on me. I found myself constantly complaining and I was getting sick of it. You know that expression “Do you want a medal or something?”...well I did. I did want a medal. I wanted to be recognized for coming to work everyday and carrying on a normal life while doing these awful treatments and suffering heartbreaking disappointment month after month after month. And then I thought many people are dealing with all sorts of difficulties that I don’t see and they don’t get a medal for it. "Well", I thought, "maybe they should", and so Project Recognition was born. I went to a local trophy store and had a medal made (the “Kudos”) and anonymously awarded it to someone. The medal came with instructions that the awardee would have to award the medal to someone else within two weeks time. The point of Project Recognition is to remain anonymous and not control it. Once it was out of my hands it was to take on a life of its own. I wanted to do something kind, not control it and not be recognized for it. However, over the past 2.5 years I have wondered what happened to Project Recognition and the Kudos. Did the award do what I had hoped? Did it brighten someone’s day? Did they pass it on? Is it still out there in circulation? Is it sitting at the bottom of someone’s desk? I might never know but that was kind-of the point.

And just because I like stories wit happy endings: I found out I was pregnant 1 week after launching Project Recognition. That was the pregnancy that made it. As a statistician I cannot infer causation but it makes a nice little end to this story.

Here is the text of the award letter that went out with the medal.

______________________________________________

Project Recognition

Congratulations!

You have been singled out by a colleague for the good job you do. The Originator started Project Recognition to quietly acknowledge their fellow employees who do a good job every day. Two weeks ago someone received this award. At that time they began looking for the next recipient and you are it. The specific reason for this anonymous award is known only to the awarder. Now that you have received “The Kudos” you are an important part of Project Recognition, for with “the Kudos” come the following responsibilities:

1) Within 2 weeks you are to award this medal and letter to the next recipient. You may award this to any employee for any reason. It’s your award to give.

2) You must remain anonymous. The recipient should never know it was you who recognized them. If you use campus mail to send the medal and this letter please make sure your name does not appear on the envelope.

3) Try not to talk about Project Recognition or “The Kudos”. It may jeopardize your anonymity.

Somebody noticed you and the good job you do. You are appreciated. Please pass on that appreciation to one of your colleagues. Thank you for all you do and for keeping Project Recognition going.

Sincerely and Mysteriously,

The Originator and countless Awarders/Awardees

Small Victories Make Life Worth Living

For the first time since it's invention 3 years ago the Ironing Bag is empty. Empty I say! All table cloths, shirts, pants are wrinkle free. By tomorrow the Ironing bag will, once again, begin to fill with it's rumpled cargo (and cargo pants) for it's appetite can never be fully satiated but today, for a few precious hours, I had nothing that needed to be ironed.

I celebrated with a glass of Proseco and did a little dance. Hey man, victories have been far a few between lately. I'll take what I can get.

Oh so Vexy

A few of the blogs I read have been posting about sex lives (or lack there-of). It got me to thinking and I just wanted to get some feedback on this.

Having just had the sex last night, I'm feeling a sense of relief. Like I just bought myself a few days. Is that so very wrong?

Seriously, after working all day, feeding a toddler, and cooking up scrumptious meals every night if I can dispense with the "putting out" I'd like to. I know I sound like the typical suburban house-wife but man, sex can be a chore. I should just get myself a minivan and call it a day...Oh wait. I do have a minivan (Shut-up. Who are you? Mario-f*ucking Andretti)

Now, truth be told Mr. Peeveme is all sorts of hotness. Hot as the day is long. And he's nice and super-hygienic. The man flosses 2 times a day! And he "gets" me and my sick sense of humor. And tells me I'm pretty. But nothing sucks the sexy out of a woman like infertility, a teen-aged step-son who just flunked high school, and a huge pile of clothes needing to be ironed.

I'd love to have a hot sex life again. I remember the days when we'd wake up in the middle of the night and go at it. If I put the moves on Mr. Peeveme at 2am nowadays he'd punch me in the face thinking I was a thief who had broken in.

I know the man deserves more sex and he deserves more than just "put out" sex. But right now a little "put out" sex is what I can muster and it's better than nothing.

In a few weeks/months when IVF #2 is done and the teenager moves out (Yes Please!) we'll get back to our Jolie/Pitt sex life...you know...except without the resulting procreation.

HIgh FSH and the OS Factor (Ovarian Slope Factor/Oh Shit Factor) A cautionary tale in a Line chart

As infertility blogs go this one has been rather light on the infertility aspect. So, for your enjoyment I have crafted a post around a neato little chart I made plotting my age and FSH levels. I know! Fun and statistical. You're welcome.

*To increase size of chart use the down arrow then the + sign.
*For those who do not know: The higher the FSH the lesser likelihood of pregnancy. Some IVF clinics clinics wont even treat women if their FSH is high. 12 seems to be the cut-off point at my clinic.

Read this document on Scribd: Ovarian Slope Factor (Chart)

As you can see FSH does not rise steadily. It jumps! At the risk of boring you (too late?) the line between each set of points has a slope (basically and equation that calculates how steep the line is). The slop in my mid 30's was much less steep than in my later 30's. And it seems to be getting steeper by the month. Also, I was still having trouble getting and staying pregnant while my FSH was considered low. It's very clear that as my FSH increased we had to become more and more aggressive with my protocols. From low-dose iui to high dose iui to IVF. That's some crazy shit eh?

So, I call this the "OS" factor...OS stands for Ovarian Slope factor but it really is the "Oh Shit" Factor.

Don't get me wrong...I'm all depressed and stuff but looking at it this way somehow takes a bit of the sting out of it. I damn-well better like my charts...that whole "get a Ph.D." thing cost me so much more than I realized at the time.


The moral of this story is: Don't wait. Don't wait to start TTC, don't wait to see a DR. Don't wait to see an RE. Don't wait because you think things are "too aggressive".



On a related note:

I get MAJOR points for this post.
1) Combining my education background in statistics with my infertility!
2) Being able to blog at work because the thing I'm blogging about actually looks like work from 20 paces.
3) I totally learned how to put a PDF into my blogger post! (jealous much?)

Mortified

I wrote this a few years ago. Sorry for the recycle. Also, I'm waiting for my CD3 blood work. I took it on Friday and still no answer. I know it's not a beta but still. You all know how a poor responder lives and dies by that FSH!

This involves a bathroom situation and has nothing to do with TTC so look away if you're not into that.

At work we have a female "staff" bathroom that requires a key and is a single, private bathroom so you can go in peace. When I walk up to the door and see the red "occupied" sign I turn and use the public bathroom or just come back later. I DO NOT WAIT BY THE DOOR. First, I think that's rude and I HATE it when people do it to me. Second, I don't really want to know who was in there before me.

About a year ago I was in the bathroom doing my business then I washed my hands and opened the door to leave and there is a faculty member (really nice, cool woman) standing right there. I was a bit surprised to see someone standing there because I didn't hear her walk up and I did not see her feet down by the air-vent levers in the door. (I watch these air-vent levers like a HAWK least someone should walk in on me. I must be ever- vigil and prepared to yell, "OCCUPIED" the moment I hear a key enter the key-hole. This particular door opens up to a large and crowded courtyard. I would DIE if someone opened that door while I was on the pot. I have actually done that to someone {opened the door while they were in the bathroom} ...in fact I have done that to the same women 3 times! No shit...Talk about embarrassing. The prospect of that moment haunts me every time I use the bathroom.) Anyhow, this nice faculty woman is standing there and we exchange pleasantries as she goes into the bathroom and I CRINGE cuz, well, to be blunt, I stunk up the place. Hey, it happens. To this day I still can't look her in the eye.

When I got home I told Mr. Peeveme about my embarrassing moment and he said, "You didn't warn her?" And I was like, "No way! What am I supposed to say? Besides, you aren't supposed to WAIT there." He contended, "You should at least tell her to give it a minute unless you don't like her". So that has been in the back of my head for the past few months. (BTW...the "unless you don't like her" part kills me. Who makes that kind of distinction?)

Flash forward to today. I'm at work and it's about 5pm. I have to stay until 9pm. I just had iui#7 today so I'm a bit crampy and I seem to have eaten something that does not agree with me. I try to wait it out until later in the evening so that there aren't so many people on campus. By 6pm I can wait no longer. There I am in my private bathroom and I can hear someone walk up to the door. She's not going away. She's standing by the door waiting for me. I think I'll wait her out. Most times after about 30 seconds or so the person gives up and moves onto the public bathroom which, I might point out, is 10 FEET AWAY!

After a while she knocks on the door. I meekly say, "Ummmm, yes?" I hear her say, "Oh, ok.", AND SHE CONTINUES TO WAIT THERE. After a long while I'm thinking, "OK lady, you win." and get ready to leave. While washing my hands I am playing over what Mr. Peeveme told me. It's better to warn people. So I take a figurative-deep breath and open the door. I have never seen this woman before but still I'm going to do the right thing and warn her.

I'm trying to close the door but she's trying to go right in. So I somewhat block her by keeping my hand on the doorknob. I say, "Wow, this is really embarrassing but I ate something today that seems to have made me sick and I need to apologize in advance and warn you that you probably should use the other bathroom. And she says, "Oh sweetie are you ok?" I say, " I'm fine but, as embarrassed as I am, I can't let you go in there without a warning.". Then she asks me about getting a key to this bathroom (I guess she does not have a key). I let her know that if she is an employee she can get a key at the front office. "Are you an employee?, I ask. She says , "Yes, I'm Connie and I teach English. What do you teach?" I tell her my name and that I'm an Administrator. Geeze, Peeveme, way to crack under pressure. I could have MADE UP A NAME AND SUBJECT. What's so hard about saying, I'm Beth and I teach physics?" The likelihood of me ever seeing her again is slim. I could hear my brain screaming, "Shut up, Shut up", but do I? Nope, I keep right on talking.

"Well Connie, it's nice to met you and again, I'm really sorry about, ya know, in there but at least you wont soon forget me huh?" Good Lord, what was I thinking?

I get to my office, call Mr. P and tell him what happened. He's like, "Why did you do that?" I'm like, "YOU TOLD ME TO". "No" he says, "I told you to tell them to give it a minute. I didn't tell you to introduce yourself."

I still say it's Mr. Peeveme's fault. Ok maybe 10% me, 30% him and 60% Connie. Who waits by the door? And who STILL goes in after being warned?

I'm done doing good deeds. From now on it's everyman for himself. You're on your own, Connie.

Solstice Solace

Last evening I did my ceremonies in observance of the Summer Solstice. In the past I have spent it at one of my tribes holy places, fasting, singing through the night and greeting the rising sun the next morning. We do this ceremony in the Summer and one in the winter to keep the Sun from hurling off into space or crashing into the Earth. We have done this since our people were created and were made the caretakers of this land. We still do it today. (BTW...you're welcome).

I didn't do anything grand yesterday in my private ceremony. The Elders/Holy people take care of the Sun issues. But I do prayers, songs, and feed the spirits the way I have been taught to do but don't do nearly enough. I get to show these things to my daughter. My prayers have always included the ancestors who created us. They always include our decedents who are yet to live. Since I have been struggling with infertility those two groups have taken on new meaning for me.

At one time the population of my tribe was documented to be 14. Now we are a few thousand. We have been working really, really hard to become a people again. I want so desperately to contribute to that re-peopling and I can't.

When a population is gripped by pestilence such as the fevers and small pox epidemics that ravaged California Indian peoples a little over 100 years ago it's the children and Elders who die. Literally, they saw their future and past vanish before their eyes. They had so many to pray for and nobody to pray for them.

Instead of simply praying for the ones who will live...I am praying for the ones who will never be. The ones I assumed would be part of my legacy...building back the numbers of my tribe that has been so decimated by disease, war and poverty. The ones will never pray for me.

Instead of simply praying for the ancestors who created me I pray for the ones who never created decedents to pray for them. The ones who were not among the 14.

All those for whom the circle was broken and those whose circle never began.

Yesterday was my CD1.



Kaptsu mistu sumoqino (Have faith always)

Secret Good Deed

I work at a college. Our Admissions and Records Department is full of super-nice, hardworking people. This being the beginning of the Summer Semester they are quite busy. On top of that they have had an auditor here all week and they have spent weeks getting ready for that.

Just for fun I sent them two boxes of these with a note that read:

Dear A&R Department,

Thanks for doing an awesome job.

Love and hugs,

A Secret Admirer

Not only will they get a cookie but I'm sure they will have fun trying to figure out who it is. Of course, I'll never tell.*



*Except for security. I did notify them just in case A&R thought the cookies were some kind of evil, stalker prank. A&R= nice and hard working but also...scaredy-cats.

Thanks...still processing

Thank you for your empathetic comments. It's comforting to know that I'm not the only one struggling with this.

As I start to organize my thoughts I am left with few categories of issues and perhaps some information for you.

Telling the child: At first I thought it would go to the grave with me. I'm old school like that. But I'm quickly changing my mind about that after reading this informational booklet called Telling and Talking. In the end I think a person has a right to know where they came from. This child would have a right to know. No judgment on those who do not tell the child. Hey, I'm half of that mind as well. I'm still a bit torn on this...but when I'm being totally and completely honest about why...my reasons are selfish ones. Basically, I fear my own child would not think of me as their real mother. So there...I said it. And frankly, if that's my real reason it's not a very good one. I think the child's right to know trumps my own selfish fears.

Telling others: I think you gals are correct; I'm under no obligation to tell others. In fact, I may not tell my family if I think they would judge it. Like Babychaser I am not big on secrets. It would feel tremendously deceptive not to tell immediate family. That one I'll have to carefully consider who knows.

I guess that goes for telling anyone...carefully consider who you tell because you can't untell. And while I value and admire total transparency, I think the child has a right to a certain amount of privacy.

Kelly at Quest for Baby Agosti had a meeting with a DE social worker who said something interesting. When this child gets to be school aged they wont be unique. There will be lots of children conceived via DE, DS. Something to think about. If that is true (which I'm guessing it is) the stigma will be much less.

Therapy: Um...yes please. I have never gone to a professional to discuss anything personal. I just never felt the need but this is a great suggestion (thanks RenovationGirl). I think talking to someone who really knows this stuff would be a great idea. It's good to know I don't have to do everything all by myself. Also, I'm pretty sure every clinic requires some sort of meeting with a counselor.

Mini-Me Syndrome: For the past few weeks I have been thinking about what makes a mother? What makes a family? I have the benefit of having a biological child and looking at our relationship using a different lens. My idea of motherhood has changed drastically because of this and even if I don't use DE I think I am a better mom for thinking about these issues. Let me distill my thesis to it's essence: I don't need to have a mini-me.

First, my daughter looks nothing like me. Nothing at all. When she was born I actually had to adjust to the fact that I didn't have a mini-me. Just goes to show you that even if you do have that genetic link your child may not have your eyes, you curly hair, your beautiful singing voice (insert your favorite thing about yourself here).

Even more than phenotype there is personality and temperament. Countless times I catch myself, Mr. Peevene, MIL, my mom, my sisters saying "that's so much like so and so". We do it to all kids in my family...how much they are or aren't like someone in the family. I don't know why we do that so much...maybe it makes us feel closer to the child to dissect where each facial feature and personality trait came from? Does this make the bond stronger? Are the grandkids who are more like the in-laws less loved than the ones who are like my sister's and brothers? What if there was no genetic link....what ever would we talk about?

Recently I have cottoned to the idea that my child (regardless of DNA) is an individual who should be allowed to be (or not be) whoever they are. Just because Piccolina is strong-willed does not make her "a little Peeveme". In fact, I have gown to greatly dislike that phrase "a little Peeveme, a little SIL, a little Aunt Jo". While I want her to have my values, love of music, respect for elders that will come from nurture not my DNA. I want to guide my children....not replicate myself.

When I examine what I thought motherhood was about...it seems so egotistical. Yes, I want children that are part me and part Mr. Peeveme. That's a normal, natural desire. But if that wont happen for us again I still want a child I can love, teach and watch grow into the person they want to be. I want to be proud of my children...not proud of little parts of myself.

For me, that has been a transformative concept in my development as a mother and a person. I believe this radical new concept is called: humanity.

Trying to get down to the heart of the matter: Changing my mind about DE

From the start I have always said Donor Eggs were not for me. Biology matters to me and therefor...no donor eggs. The reason biology matters to me is probably different than other people. My biology matters to me because I'm American Indian. It's different from wanting a donor who's Scottish/Irish/ French but you have no cultural ties to that place and it would have no impact on how the children were raised. My tribal membership, identity, customs, culture, religion are very important to me and will be an important part of my family life. It would not be right to raise a child to be "insert my tribal name here" if they were not "insert tribal name here". Additionally I do have a genetic child who will be raised as a "tribal name". So that just complicates the heck out of things. Would I raise her "tribal name" and the other(s) not? Would I just raise them all "tribal name" and to hell with DNA? These questions are on top of the already difficult questions and emotions about DE. It was easier just to take the issue off the table.

But then something happened that has started the evolution of my thinking on the matter. I found a donor. Out of curiosity I was browsing a DE site (that right there tells you I must have some level of open-mindedness to DE). I found someone...she's me 15 years ago. Not so much in looks but she's a mix-blood Native woman with a strong tribal identity. I don't know what tribe she is but I'm guessing it's related to mine...at least in the same region. She does not really look like me (which I don't care about....my own bio-child looks nothing like me) but she is my "type" short, petite, athletic, brown hair/eyes. She's also studying in a field similar to the one I studied and is pursuing the same degree I have. For the first time I thought this might be a possibility. I know finding a donor is much more complicated and many, many times it falls through but at least I am open to it...if not her then maybe someone else. One of the biggest stumbling blocks for DE was that genetic link to being a Native person from my region. While that would be incredibly hard to find donor-wise...it's possible. When I say Native I mean really Native. Someone who has a tribal identity, knows and is involved in their culture and community....not part Cherokee Princess (sorry to offend any real Cherokees out there..but come on. You MUST know what I mean right?)

Now that DE is possibly on the table have been pondering all those emotional questions I thought I didn't need to deal with. I want another baby (or two). Besides my daughter, my greatest joy in life are my brothers and sisters (2 of each surviving). Siblings are important to my idea of family.

I want to be pregnant again. I have no doubt I would love a baby conceived with DE just as much as I love Piccolina. All that is easy. And while DE is obviously not my first choice it is an option I am open to. OK then, so what's my problem?

Once I started thinking about it I realized the reason I didn't want to do DE was not because I stigmatized it...it was because other people stigmatize it. I think society looks at Donor-Egg children as somehow less than (I don't mean to offend any DE sister's out there. Just putting it all out there). I think my friends, co-workers and even family members might not see these children...might not treat these children as they do Piccolina. I hate saying that about my family...they are not bad people...but honestly.....if I were not in this situation I would probably have thought the same things about other people's DE children. Not even on a conscious level but it would undoubtedly be there...somehow that mother wasn't the "real" mother, their link to each other wasn't as strong or as valid. I cringe to even have that thought come out of my mouth (fingers?) but there it is. A naked admission. Talk about walking in another person's moccasins! (I'm Native I can make such bad jokes. Please refrain from making any moccasin, totem pole, teepee jokes unless you are Native in which case I would love to hear a good NDN joke right about now.)

Obviously my knowledge and compassion have grown leaps and bounds due to my infertility. But what about all the 95% of folks out there who aren't infertile? How would they judge us? And why do I care? Well, I don't care that much about general society....they don't even have to know. But what about friends? Family? If I don't know how they would treat this child should I even tell them? I don't see how I could keep something this major a secret but I would to protect my child if I felt I had to. And what a sad, sad thought...to have to protect my child from the judgment of family and friends.

What about Mr. Peeveme's family? Shoot, IVF is barley legal in their home country. I don't even know if they know DE exists let along have come to terms with it. What about all the other grandkids who are 100% bio-kids? Would there be a difference in how they are seen or treated? Do I give our families too little credit?

Clearly I am very early in the process. I still have at last one IVF left with my own eggs before I need to decide. I just want to start working through all this now because I can see it may take a while.


If you have done DE, know someone who has, are considering DE or even donor sperm...are you telling? Who? When? How have you sifted through all these conflicting feelings? What are your stumbling blocks and how are you resolving them?



This is my first heart-felt post (i.e. not about pooping, farts). I'm feeling really naked here so please comment with your thoughts or support or suggestions.

Slap Happy

The most absurd thing just happened to me and I just had to share it. Being summer and oh... 99 degrees outside I am wearing a skirt today. A co-worker came to my office to talk to me. I went to sit down and my thighs slapped together in such a way as to sound like a fart! I just froze. What's worse...farting...or explaining that my thighs just smacked together with such velocity as to create a temporary vacuum of air?

I decided farting is worse. I was laughing so hard I was crying trying to explain that I did not, indeed, fart despite all auditory evidence to the contrary. I'm so embarrassed and yet, clearly amused.

Engaging

6 years ago today Mr. Peevme asked me to be his wife. Actually, he never asked me "to be his wife" which is a bone of contention to this day. What he asked is, "Would you make me the happiest man in the world?'" I assumed he meant by marrying him but I could have gotten it wrong and he was too polite to correct me. Well, too late now sucker. But really, what else could he have meant? I'm clearly such a catch!

There is just something so solid about that man, about our marriage. Things have not been a barrel of fun around our humble abode lately. Actually things have been down right hard but I never doubt us. We are just "in it".

6 years ago I promised him something..I'm still not sure what it was but I know for darn sure we are happy together despite these past few challenging years. Maybe not the happiest person in the world but certain on our block.

Weird Confession

I'm convinced that Tom and Katie would want to be friends with Mr. Peeveme and me if we only just met them. Posh.. not so much.

I'm ready for my prodigious pregnancy now

OK, last day for AF to come. If it doesn't I must forgo my preferred RE and will be resigned to the RE behind door #2. Ah well. At this point I just want to get to trying.

I have to admit I am having the passing thought: What if I'm spontaneously pregnant.? I know...coo coo crazy but it happens...well not to anyone I actually know but I have been told by countless number of casual acquaintances that someone they worked with had a sister's-husbands- cousin- who tried "everything" and then right before their IVF got pregnant. So, of course, that's like proof positive right? I hope not because I'd be pretty sour that I'd loose my $500 deposit on IVF #2.

I'm in no real danger of being disappointed by my lack of an apocryphal pregnancy because I don't really believe that sex can make babies...and even if it could Mr. P has been out of town most of the past month so if I did turn up pregnant I'd have bigger problems than not getting my $500 deposit back.

Truthfully, I'd be sooo embarrassed to get pregnant naturally. I have been tremendously vocal to everyone who'll listen about infertility. Vacations, relaxing, adoption applications, drunkenness will not help. (Drunkenness helps a lot of things alas..infertility is not one of them. If it were I'd have many, many children by now*). I would totally have to lie to people and say we did IVF when we didn't. I think most people do it the other way around...do IVF but not admit it. (BTW...I believe you are under no obligation to tell people how you conceived..Ain't nobody business. Ain't nobody business but me and my Baybeh. I'm so 80's I just may be cool again...No? OK then). As I was saying I would have to lie just to save face.

Which reminds me of the time that my mom said that now that I had a baby everyone knows that I had sex. Actually, mom, no. Piccolina was conceived via iui in the Dr.s office. No sex. I could still be a virgin. I'm not but I could be and THAT my friends would be a prodigious pregnancy.**

*My favorite Simpsons Line: To Alcohol, the cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems.

**Please note that I am not making any comparisons to myself and the blessed Virgin Mary. None at all.

Oh, now I'm the Asshole?

The RE clinic at Big Hospital was in the regular OB/GYN office. There were old women there, young women there, pregnant women there, women with kids there. I wasn't happy to see these loving, cooing mothers and their offspring but I dealt. After all, one day I hoped to have kids to take along to my pap-smears. Who wouldn't? Actually I do understand that women have kids...and need to have pap smears..and you can't leave your kids in the car right? (Seriously, you can't...for a blood draw maybe but a pants-off appointment you need to take the little buggers with you.)

So, I get pregnant and have a baby (yea....the baby thing doesn't always follow the pregnant thing. I know how lucky I am). When she was about 7 months old I knew I better get going on the baby thing. I started trying when I was 33..I was then 37...it ain't going to get any easier. So off I go to the RE with a 7 month old in tow. I felt the appropriate amount of guilt over this but hey, I dealt with it all those months. It's just how it is. It's a regular OB/GYN office after all. I'm not an asshole. Just someone who lacked day-care and needed my Gonal-F fix.

Well, what did Big Hospital Clinic do over those months I was pregnant? They REMODELED. Now the RE clinic was separated from the OB/GYN. The infertiles had been quarantined. So not only did I suffer all those months sitting next to the fertiles and their offspring...now I was inflicting that hurt on other infertiles. Now I'm the asshole?.

Judgement

This guy who works where I work (call him J) a few years back J and his wife were having trouble getting pregnant or so I heard. All my knowledge is second-hand...I think since I was going through infertility a mutual friend told me about J. J and his wife achieved that apocryphal pregnancy...you know...took a vacay and got pregnant naturally after trying "everything" (I don't think they every did IVF so I question the veracity of this "everything"). Anyhooo. Flash forward to a few months ago when I hear through the grapevine that they are expecting twins. I am really happy for them. I, of course, assumed they were IVF twins. Glad somebody is getting their money's worth from our local RE.

They were telling people while still in the first trimester. OK..not my thing but do as you wish. Then I hear that they are going to visit family for 1 month in a third-world country. Really?

Well, I just heard that they lost one baby while on the trip. Actually they started off with triplets...then twins...now after a trip to a third world country...they are hoping to hold onto a singleton. My immediate first thought is I hope and pray for their remaining baby. My heart goes out to them. Really. Truly, it does. My immediate second thought is "what were they thinking?". I have no idea if the loss was at all preventable...but after loosing one baby would you go on a month-long trip to a place without a darn good perinatologist?

I can see how people who have never experienced infertility to take it for granted. I can see how someone who had never had a m/c may take it for granted but if you have experienced both would you take any sort of risk?

I know, I know you could sit in your house on bed rest and still m/c. I'm just saying...unnecessary risk...is all I'm saying.

It's not you it's me

So I guess I should write where I am with all this trying to have another baby crap. Right now I'm waiting for Af so I can go back to my old clinic. I agonized over the choice...and now that I finally decided and have my heart set on it..it looks like AF will not cooperate so I'll have to go back to my newer RE with my tail between my legs.

Back in 2005 when I started infertility treatment I was happy to have all testing and iui's covered by insurance at a place I shall call "Big Hospital". I paid a $5 co-cap for visits and meds. It's a big hospital and a big hassle but the actual RE clinic was great. The RE clinic in Big Hospital was had outgrown their physical plant and getting seen was difficult. There was a long wait list to start and once you were in I routinely had to wait 45 mins for my appointments, labs took forever, pharmacy was a huge line of people. Plus they are a 45 min drive from my house. However, they were great and because of them I have what I was trying to get...a baby.

When IVF time came while trying to make baby #2 the wait list at Big Hospital was long. It would take a few months to get seen. So I went with Big-Fancy Re clinic because they could get me in a few months before Big Hospital clinic. I found Big-Fancy clinic a bit cookie cutter. Sure they were nice but I don't need nice. I'm not new to this, I do my research, I'm a realist. I'm there for the meds...not the hugs. Ok, a hug would be nice but really..I want a baby. My IVF nurse and I didn't get along. I didn't want BCP for suppression...but they big fat made me do it anyway. And then there was this whole false-positive hepatitis B thing..Department of Health involvement...they made me feel so dirty. (turns out none of us have the HEP but man those were some stressful days)

Once IVF #1 was a bust I went for a consult with Big Hospital clinic. I liked the Dr. Plus...and here is the kicker...their SART rates are TWICE AS HIGH! Seriously...there is no comparison. They are a huge pain in the ass given the hassles of dealing with Big Hospital but those concerns are secondary. I want a baby (did I mention that already?). So I decided to go with them. I could never forgive myself if I didn't give myself the best chance possible for happiness. Made calls for Big Fancy to transfer my files. Let Big Fancy RE know my decision. He was very nice about it but still...I'm really uncomfortable with that sort of stuff. He said that many women can't get into Big Hospital and come to him. He said they often turn away women with high FSH...well not turn them away but because of the wait list many women come to him. If/When it didn't work out with Big Hospital I could come back to Big Fancy. I thanked him to not talk about my new boyfriend RE like that. He didn't know Big Hospital like I did. Big Hospital and I would find happiness together. You can't keep us apart!

Now if AF does not come by June 12 Big Hospital wont be able to do my IVF until Sept/Oct. Um, wish I had known that before I broke up with my other RE. I can't wait that long. So back to Big Fancy I shall go. If he'll still have me.

Wont you be my Neighbor* Now with Update

I have and elderly-widowed neighbor. His three kids live out of state. I have no relationships with any of my neighbors other than the occasional wave (that's on my list of things to change). I have not seem this particular neighbor in a while. Last night I left a card at his door with the following written inside. "We haven't seen you in a while and wanted to make sure you were doing alright. Mr. P and I are right across the street if you need anything...even if it's just some company".

*Last night as I was driving into my garage and scurrying into my house so as to have no contact with anyone (why do I do that?)...I noticed that the note I taped to the door was not there. Your move elderly-widower.

Rhoid Rage

Out of nowhere I get a hemorrhoid. WTF? Even when I was pregnant I didn't get them. This is new territory for me. I had no idea what to do about it until both my sisters and mom told me you had to push it back in. I didn't want to because frankly...it's disgusting but after a very uncomfortable day I finally got up the courage to push the rhoid and ahhhhh...such relief I have rarely experienced.

And here is where infertility butts (Tee Hee) into an otherwise mundane occurrence: The thought actually occurred to me, "Thank goodness I'm not cycling right now. Because if I had to get into the stirrups and the RE saw my hemorrhoid...That would be embarrassing!"

I guess one becomes desensitized to the vaginal u/s over time.