It's a question that most mothers/parents get asked when their first child reaches a certain age. Usually sometime after their first birthday.
"So when are you thinking of having #2?"
My heart usually sinks a little bit every single time I hear this question. I keep the smile on my face though, trying not to betray my true feelings to the other person. For most people I give a glib sort of answer and then change the subject.
You see, when you have suffered with infertility in the past, and don't have the resources to go through the whole battle of treatments again, it's a complicated question. One of finances, and logistics, and emotions. You see for us it's not as easy as just throwing caution to the wind and having unprotected sex.
I often wonder what it's like to be able to take your fertility for granted like that and just know that it will happen. Maybe sooner, or later, but it will happen. I think because so many do take their fertility for granted that most just assume that once people have one baby that they will just do it all over again. Then there are others that just think that because you went through treatments once, that it's a given that you will do it again.
I wish for us it was that easy, that simple a decision. But it's not. Right now we just don't have the resources to do it all again. Fertility treatments can be expensive. Not to mention time consuming, and physically and emotionally draining. I have thought lately about what if we did have the resources. Would we be in a place where we would be willing to go through it all again? I couldn't even answer the question.
So for now I guess I continue to slap on the too stiff smile and laugh it off.
Showing posts with label PCOS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PCOS. Show all posts
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Thursday, August 4, 2011
I think my Boobies are closing up shop
I think my short and arduous journey into the land of breast feeding is coming to an end. Emilie has been outright refusing the breast during feedings over this last week. I've been meaning to write about my breast feeding experience for so long now. Wanting to share my journey, hoping that maybe it will bring comfort to someone out there. Now that everything is most likely coming to an end, I think now is the time.
I grew up in a home of three girls. My mother exclusively breastfed all three of us. My youngest sister is 8 years younger than me, so as a young girl I learned that babies weren't fed from a bottle, that's what boobies were for. My mother even shared a story of me as a 9 year old sitting outside our home freaking a neighbour right out when I lifted my shirt and put my baby doll to my chest so she could "eat". It just seemed natural. You have a baby, you breastfeed said baby. Easy peasy right?
NO!!!! A million times no!
I heard stories of friends, beautiful stories of their beautiful wrinkly, little newborns being placed on their chest and starting to suckle on their own scootching up to their breast so they can have that first little meal. That was not my reality. My reality was a sleepy, lazy, satisfied little girl who was so full of the fluid they (the doctors) had pumped me full of during my delivery, that she was in no way wanting another meal. All she was interested in was snuggling on my chest for a nice little nap. The closest we got those first few hours was her flicking my nipple around with her tongue, trying to push it away.
::Le Sigh::
Little Emilie was not interested in eating those first few days. Our second night in the hospital she went a full seven, S-E-V-E-N hours between feedings. Not from our lack of trying either. I swear that night I met almost every single nurse on shift. Each one trying their own little trick for trying to wake a sleepy baby to feed. I ended up hand expressing colostrum, squeezing the drops of liquid gold into her mouth, letting her swallow, then starting again. That was a meal for her. The nurses had me strip her down, lay her on my chest, tickle her toes, tickle under her chin, move her arms, move her legs, finally they had me wipe her down with a cold damp cloth. Mean I know, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Even the damp cloth didn't work after awhile. She was not interested in the boob juice.
After about 36 hours of that whole routine to get her to eat, her weight had dropped below the dreaded 10% loss. The midwife gave us two options; either rent a breast pump like that minute, or start supplementing with formula via a tube to get us through until that magic moment when my milk would come in. We happened to have some sample cans of formula in our pantry, so we opted for supplementing. I also booked an appointment for my fourth day post partum with a lactation consultant. We supplemented, and she gained, and the lactation consultant fixed our shallow latch issues, and I bought myself a pump.
I started pumping for 10 minutes after each feeding in the hopes of increasing my supply. The next day (5 days post partum) I had another visit from my midwife. She delivered the dreaded news: I had a low supply. I thought the 20mL I was pumping after each feeding was great, true, it wasn't enough to even supplement the next feeding, but it was okay right? Wrong. She gave me two options, herbs, or Domperidone. I opted for Domperidone. Made an appointment with my family doctor and started that very day.
All I have to say is THANK GOD Andre was home those first three weeks. I honestly would have lost it, seriously lost my mind if it wasn't for him. Feedings were suppose to be this serene time with mom and baby, snuggling. Hahahaha. Not in our house, it was a huge production of stripping Emilie down, changing her bum in the hopes of waking her up a little bit, then trying to get her latched on. And really that was the last thing Emilie wanted to do. My boobies couldn't give her what she wanted so why try right? Once we got her latched it was a rush to get the feeding tube in her mouth so she could down the formula while on the breast. That was assuming she would latch. Sometimes after about 10 minutes of struggling, we would give up and finger feed her. I do not miss those days. Then after the whole production of feeding her I would have to relinquish my little snugly baby who just wanted to be cuddled in favour of my cold, unforgiving breast pump so I would watch Andre get to snuggle Emilie while I sat (crying) in my glider pumping away.
By this point the post partum blues were beginning to set in. The stress of everything was becoming a little bit too much for me. Andre was about to go back to work, and I knew that our routine was not something that I could continue on my own when my late night partner in crime was asleep. I made the decision to drop my after feeding pump sessions overnight, and just supplement with formula what she needed. This was probably the beginning of the end, but when your sanity is hanging by a thread, you choose your sanity.
This lead to a phase of exclusively pumping and supplementing with formula. In the evenings in an effort to calm Emilie I would put her on the breast and she would calm herself by having a little snack. After about a month of pumping, I had enough, my nipples were killing me and I was miserable being stuck to a pump all the time instead of spending time with my daughter, or sleeping, or eating, or well anything.
I was on the verge of giving up all together when Emilie decided that she would actually latch on well and take a little feeding. So in a last ditch effort to continue giving Emilie some breast milk I started offering the breast before each feeding. She would nurse for about 10-15 minutes then finish off with her bottle. Let me just say my beloved daughter has no issue with the dreaded nipple confusion. We have continued with this for about 3 months or so. I think the final blow came with my return to work. Things were going so well, but I have noticed a drop in my lack lustre supply since I've been back to work. This has led to our little Miss outright refusing to nurse the last few days. I see the writing on the wall. I know what is coming. She's had enough. I can't give her what she wants when she wants it. The bottle can.
I found myself crying today while trying to feed her. My nipple leaking and her refusing to nurse because she knows a bottle is coming. At that moment I knew what is to come. I'm still taking Domperidone, but I will probably stop taking it after today. There is no need if she refuses to nurse. I refuse to go back to the pump for the dismal amount of breast milk I can pump. It's not worth the time I have to take away from her. She's thriving. She's happy. She's healthy. I can't complain.
If she will nurse tonight before bed I will savour those last little moments. Just her and I. Something only I can give her. PCOS robbed me of my ability to breast feed exclusively, but it can't take that away from me.
I grew up in a home of three girls. My mother exclusively breastfed all three of us. My youngest sister is 8 years younger than me, so as a young girl I learned that babies weren't fed from a bottle, that's what boobies were for. My mother even shared a story of me as a 9 year old sitting outside our home freaking a neighbour right out when I lifted my shirt and put my baby doll to my chest so she could "eat". It just seemed natural. You have a baby, you breastfeed said baby. Easy peasy right?
NO!!!! A million times no!
I heard stories of friends, beautiful stories of their beautiful wrinkly, little newborns being placed on their chest and starting to suckle on their own scootching up to their breast so they can have that first little meal. That was not my reality. My reality was a sleepy, lazy, satisfied little girl who was so full of the fluid they (the doctors) had pumped me full of during my delivery, that she was in no way wanting another meal. All she was interested in was snuggling on my chest for a nice little nap. The closest we got those first few hours was her flicking my nipple around with her tongue, trying to push it away.
::Le Sigh::
Little Emilie was not interested in eating those first few days. Our second night in the hospital she went a full seven, S-E-V-E-N hours between feedings. Not from our lack of trying either. I swear that night I met almost every single nurse on shift. Each one trying their own little trick for trying to wake a sleepy baby to feed. I ended up hand expressing colostrum, squeezing the drops of liquid gold into her mouth, letting her swallow, then starting again. That was a meal for her. The nurses had me strip her down, lay her on my chest, tickle her toes, tickle under her chin, move her arms, move her legs, finally they had me wipe her down with a cold damp cloth. Mean I know, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Even the damp cloth didn't work after awhile. She was not interested in the boob juice.
After about 36 hours of that whole routine to get her to eat, her weight had dropped below the dreaded 10% loss. The midwife gave us two options; either rent a breast pump like that minute, or start supplementing with formula via a tube to get us through until that magic moment when my milk would come in. We happened to have some sample cans of formula in our pantry, so we opted for supplementing. I also booked an appointment for my fourth day post partum with a lactation consultant. We supplemented, and she gained, and the lactation consultant fixed our shallow latch issues, and I bought myself a pump.
I started pumping for 10 minutes after each feeding in the hopes of increasing my supply. The next day (5 days post partum) I had another visit from my midwife. She delivered the dreaded news: I had a low supply. I thought the 20mL I was pumping after each feeding was great, true, it wasn't enough to even supplement the next feeding, but it was okay right? Wrong. She gave me two options, herbs, or Domperidone. I opted for Domperidone. Made an appointment with my family doctor and started that very day.
All I have to say is THANK GOD Andre was home those first three weeks. I honestly would have lost it, seriously lost my mind if it wasn't for him. Feedings were suppose to be this serene time with mom and baby, snuggling. Hahahaha. Not in our house, it was a huge production of stripping Emilie down, changing her bum in the hopes of waking her up a little bit, then trying to get her latched on. And really that was the last thing Emilie wanted to do. My boobies couldn't give her what she wanted so why try right? Once we got her latched it was a rush to get the feeding tube in her mouth so she could down the formula while on the breast. That was assuming she would latch. Sometimes after about 10 minutes of struggling, we would give up and finger feed her. I do not miss those days. Then after the whole production of feeding her I would have to relinquish my little snugly baby who just wanted to be cuddled in favour of my cold, unforgiving breast pump so I would watch Andre get to snuggle Emilie while I sat (crying) in my glider pumping away.
By this point the post partum blues were beginning to set in. The stress of everything was becoming a little bit too much for me. Andre was about to go back to work, and I knew that our routine was not something that I could continue on my own when my late night partner in crime was asleep. I made the decision to drop my after feeding pump sessions overnight, and just supplement with formula what she needed. This was probably the beginning of the end, but when your sanity is hanging by a thread, you choose your sanity.
This lead to a phase of exclusively pumping and supplementing with formula. In the evenings in an effort to calm Emilie I would put her on the breast and she would calm herself by having a little snack. After about a month of pumping, I had enough, my nipples were killing me and I was miserable being stuck to a pump all the time instead of spending time with my daughter, or sleeping, or eating, or well anything.
I was on the verge of giving up all together when Emilie decided that she would actually latch on well and take a little feeding. So in a last ditch effort to continue giving Emilie some breast milk I started offering the breast before each feeding. She would nurse for about 10-15 minutes then finish off with her bottle. Let me just say my beloved daughter has no issue with the dreaded nipple confusion. We have continued with this for about 3 months or so. I think the final blow came with my return to work. Things were going so well, but I have noticed a drop in my lack lustre supply since I've been back to work. This has led to our little Miss outright refusing to nurse the last few days. I see the writing on the wall. I know what is coming. She's had enough. I can't give her what she wants when she wants it. The bottle can.
I found myself crying today while trying to feed her. My nipple leaking and her refusing to nurse because she knows a bottle is coming. At that moment I knew what is to come. I'm still taking Domperidone, but I will probably stop taking it after today. There is no need if she refuses to nurse. I refuse to go back to the pump for the dismal amount of breast milk I can pump. It's not worth the time I have to take away from her. She's thriving. She's happy. She's healthy. I can't complain.
If she will nurse tonight before bed I will savour those last little moments. Just her and I. Something only I can give her. PCOS robbed me of my ability to breast feed exclusively, but it can't take that away from me.
Friday, July 2, 2010
I have a confession to make
This is what I saw at 5am yesterday morning. I caved. I had to test before my beta. This test was not actually the first test. My first test was Wednesday morning. Where I got the faintest lines in the history of the world. Here I am at 8am (after analyzing the internet cheapie tests for a full hour) waving the sticks in front of Andre.
Me: Andre do you see two lines?
Andre: Ummm (looking at them closely with squinted eyes) no. Well what colour are they suppose to be?
Me: Pink
Andre: Well, there are two lines, but one of them is really light.
Ah, no romantic surprises in our house.
I tested with the digital at 5am on Thursday morning. I took the picture, then left the test on the counter for Andre to see and then went back to bed to try and get some sleep. At a more respectable 7:30, Andre cheered, and we hugged, and got ready to go to the clinic for my Beta.
We both waited very impatiently all day, Andre at home, and me at work for the results and finally around 3pm between clients Andre called and told me that the nurse had just dropped off a letter and her congratulations off at the house because they couldn't reach us via phone. For now the plan is to continue taking the progesterone suppositories, and go in again Tuesday morning for a repeat beta, where hopefully the numbers will have continued to rise by the appropriate amounts.
So please continue to send your rising number and sticky baby vibes my way if you can!
For those of you that know me IRL, and have me on FB, you know the drill, please don't mention anything!
Thursday, June 24, 2010
I am slowly going crazy.....
I figure I should be ready for a white padded room by the end of next week. I am over analyzing every single twinge, feeling, everything. To make matters worse I am on Progesterone suppositories. Progesterone makes me crazy. I am overly emotional and snap at the drop of a hat.
Just yesterday I was at work and a patient came in the office that used to work with Andre. He has a 20 year old son. His son would not work, would not go to college/university, drank himself silly 99% of the time, and to make matters worse, liked to dabble in drugs. The patient came in to announce that he was a grandfather (complete with pictures). Said son's girlfriend gave birth to a baby girl. I'm usually very good at holding it together, but yesterday it took all I had to hold it together until I could leave the reception area. Life isn't fair. Why does God see fit to bless them with a baby, while Andre and I are going through hell for the chance to have one?
Today I'm not much better. My clinic called me this morning to tell me when I have to come in for my pregnancy test (blood test). I have to come in Thursday July 1st. I'm happy that they finally called to tell me when to come in, but first of all they only open at 9 and I have to be at the other end of the city by 10 for work. I'll be cutting it close. As well I will only be 12dpiui by that point. I'm nervous about the test being too early. Needless to say I will not be testing with a home test before going in. I guess I will have to warn Andre to let the clinic leave a message on the answering machine so we can listen to it together when I get home from work. I just can't listen to it at work. If it's bad news I know I will be a mess.
I have been so optimistic the last few days, but today, I am just a heap of pessimistic emotions. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.
My saving grace this weekend is the fact that we will be having house guests this weekend! My wonderful friend Laura is coming into town with her little girl! I haven't seen Laura in about a year, and have yet to meet her little girl. It will be wonderful to have her visit, and it will be a nice distraction for me.
In the meantime any positive thoughts that can be sent my way would be greatly appreciated!
Just yesterday I was at work and a patient came in the office that used to work with Andre. He has a 20 year old son. His son would not work, would not go to college/university, drank himself silly 99% of the time, and to make matters worse, liked to dabble in drugs. The patient came in to announce that he was a grandfather (complete with pictures). Said son's girlfriend gave birth to a baby girl. I'm usually very good at holding it together, but yesterday it took all I had to hold it together until I could leave the reception area. Life isn't fair. Why does God see fit to bless them with a baby, while Andre and I are going through hell for the chance to have one?
Today I'm not much better. My clinic called me this morning to tell me when I have to come in for my pregnancy test (blood test). I have to come in Thursday July 1st. I'm happy that they finally called to tell me when to come in, but first of all they only open at 9 and I have to be at the other end of the city by 10 for work. I'll be cutting it close. As well I will only be 12dpiui by that point. I'm nervous about the test being too early. Needless to say I will not be testing with a home test before going in. I guess I will have to warn Andre to let the clinic leave a message on the answering machine so we can listen to it together when I get home from work. I just can't listen to it at work. If it's bad news I know I will be a mess.
I have been so optimistic the last few days, but today, I am just a heap of pessimistic emotions. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.
My saving grace this weekend is the fact that we will be having house guests this weekend! My wonderful friend Laura is coming into town with her little girl! I haven't seen Laura in about a year, and have yet to meet her little girl. It will be wonderful to have her visit, and it will be a nice distraction for me.
In the meantime any positive thoughts that can be sent my way would be greatly appreciated!
Friday, June 18, 2010
My last needle?
Hopefully for a very long time!
I had yet another follie check this morning. The dildo cam and me are on a first name basis. My little follie-that-could had grown to 19mm. For those of you that have been reading this blog, can you tell me what that meant?
Ding, Ding, Ding! You're right, it's finally mature!!
After three long months on Clomid and 10 days of jabbing myself in the stomach I was actually going to ovulate! I went in to meet with Dr. C after I had my b/w and u/s and he looked over my results and high fived me. He then got very serious and told me that he recommended we do an IUI. It didn't mean that we had to do one, just that it had taken us a long time to get to this point, and he wanted to give it all we could.
Luckily I knew that this was going to happen and Andre and I had already had this talk the night before. I told Dr. C that we had discussed it and wanted to do everything that we could within our power to make this work. He told me that I made his job so much easier, and told me I was to get an HCG trigger shot (an injection that triggers ovulation) before I left, and give myself one last stab with the Puregon tonight and then would tell us whether we should head in Saturday or Sunday for the IUI. We got the call and bright and early tomorrow morning we will be heading down to the clinic so I can get knocked the hell up! (Well hopefully)
For those of you out there that are unfamiliar with what an IUI is, you can visit this website for an explanation. Normally I would write one out, but it's 11pm and I am bushed from all the craziness today. Wish Andre and I luck tomorrow, and the next time you hear from me I will be in the 2ww!
I had yet another follie check this morning. The dildo cam and me are on a first name basis. My little follie-that-could had grown to 19mm. For those of you that have been reading this blog, can you tell me what that meant?
Ding, Ding, Ding! You're right, it's finally mature!!
After three long months on Clomid and 10 days of jabbing myself in the stomach I was actually going to ovulate! I went in to meet with Dr. C after I had my b/w and u/s and he looked over my results and high fived me. He then got very serious and told me that he recommended we do an IUI. It didn't mean that we had to do one, just that it had taken us a long time to get to this point, and he wanted to give it all we could.
Luckily I knew that this was going to happen and Andre and I had already had this talk the night before. I told Dr. C that we had discussed it and wanted to do everything that we could within our power to make this work. He told me that I made his job so much easier, and told me I was to get an HCG trigger shot (an injection that triggers ovulation) before I left, and give myself one last stab with the Puregon tonight and then would tell us whether we should head in Saturday or Sunday for the IUI. We got the call and bright and early tomorrow morning we will be heading down to the clinic so I can get knocked the hell up! (Well hopefully)
For those of you out there that are unfamiliar with what an IUI is, you can visit this website for an explanation. Normally I would write one out, but it's 11pm and I am bushed from all the craziness today. Wish Andre and I luck tomorrow, and the next time you hear from me I will be in the 2ww!
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
One of those meant-to-be meetings
Now I am a massage therapist, so I meet a lot of people. Well today I had a new client. I was not particularly looking forward to meeting this person simply because she was a new mom....of twins. I just didn't know if I was ready to spend a prolonged period time locked in a room with a new mom of twins. Especially after the day that I had yesterday.
Well she ended up being a very nice woman, and those twins; those twins were IVF babies. I don't know how it came up, but she mentioned it. Those twins weren't just IVF babies either, they were FET (Frozen Embryo Transfer) babies. Their very last frozen embryos after a number of unsuccessful (fresh) cycles. Instantly I liked this woman more. I then told her that my husband and I were patients at the local fertility clinic (there are three within a 40 minute radius). We started talking and it was so wonderful to talk to someone who had been through hell and back but had two beautiful little babies to show for it.
It gave me hope. Gave me just a little bit of strength that I so desperately needed this week. Just because it doesn't work the first time doesn't mean it won't work. Andre and I will be parents one day. We just have to be patient, that and possibly win the lottery, that wouldn't hurt either!!
Well she ended up being a very nice woman, and those twins; those twins were IVF babies. I don't know how it came up, but she mentioned it. Those twins weren't just IVF babies either, they were FET (Frozen Embryo Transfer) babies. Their very last frozen embryos after a number of unsuccessful (fresh) cycles. Instantly I liked this woman more. I then told her that my husband and I were patients at the local fertility clinic (there are three within a 40 minute radius). We started talking and it was so wonderful to talk to someone who had been through hell and back but had two beautiful little babies to show for it.
It gave me hope. Gave me just a little bit of strength that I so desperately needed this week. Just because it doesn't work the first time doesn't mean it won't work. Andre and I will be parents one day. We just have to be patient, that and possibly win the lottery, that wouldn't hurt either!!
Monday, June 14, 2010
I don't know what to think anymore
Today is not such a great day. I had my second follie check since starting the Puregon. Today was the second time there has been no response. My follies are still "very small" as the tech puts it. Remember how I said that a mature follicle is around 20 (give or take a few mm)? Well my office will only give us the measurement after it has reached 10mm, and they haven't told me any measurements (ever). Even the tech this morning was trying so hard to find something with that dammed dildo cam. She looked at me and said "I wish I had some good news for you." So here I am after 5 days of stabbing myself in the abdomen and nothing to show for it. I have to do in yet again on Wednesday morning. I know I should be optimistic, but at this moment, I feel nothing, expect nothing.
I was so full of faith and hope just a few days ago. Today, not so much. I feel defeated. At this moment I have no hope. Four months, four different meds, and nothing to show for it except less money in our bank account. This is the eighth month that we have been TTC. Not once in those eight months have we had one shot. Not one freaking chance at getting pregnant.
I know I'm suppose to have faith that God has a plan for us. That there is a reason that all of this is happening, but I can't think of one. I haven't been to church in weeks. I just can't bring myself to go and see all the families. All the babies. It hurts my heart too much. My mom will come home and tell me about how so-and-so just had a baby, how this person asked where I've been. I just sit there numb and just nod my head, I just don't care. I just don't have enough in me to care right now.
I hope tomorrow will be better. I hope tomorrow I can smile at someone and mean it.
I was so full of faith and hope just a few days ago. Today, not so much. I feel defeated. At this moment I have no hope. Four months, four different meds, and nothing to show for it except less money in our bank account. This is the eighth month that we have been TTC. Not once in those eight months have we had one shot. Not one freaking chance at getting pregnant.
I know I'm suppose to have faith that God has a plan for us. That there is a reason that all of this is happening, but I can't think of one. I haven't been to church in weeks. I just can't bring myself to go and see all the families. All the babies. It hurts my heart too much. My mom will come home and tell me about how so-and-so just had a baby, how this person asked where I've been. I just sit there numb and just nod my head, I just don't care. I just don't have enough in me to care right now.
I hope tomorrow will be better. I hope tomorrow I can smile at someone and mean it.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Gold star for me!
I got back into the groove today, and got my butt back on the treadmill. I had been doing so well since March, getting onto the treadmill at least three times a week even when sleeping in was waaaaaay more appealing. Then I got sick. Not just the sniffles, but up all night unable to breathe for 2 nights followed by up all night for 2 more nights because of coughing, sick. Then my asthma got involved. So it was no treadmill for me until I could get the asthma under control.
It's been a week of an increased dose of my inhalers and I finally felt like I was up to getting back on there. I still can't push myself (ie jog as long or as fast as I was doing), but I still managed to get on there, and now I feel much better about myself. The best surprise came when I weighed myself this morning. This I had not done since a few days before I got sick, so it had been 19 days. EEEEEEEK! I was so nervous.
But lo and behold I had lost .8kg since last time! I was shocked! I had noticed a decrease in my appetite lately, which I attributed to well feeling like shit and not wanting to eat, and being on Metformin for just over 3 months, and it's normal to feel a decrease in appetite on Metformin. So then I calculated my total weight loss since I started this whole exercising thing: -4.7kg. Which doesn't sound nearly as impressive as -10.3lbs!!
This makes me so happy because 10lbs was my first official goal in my head. I don't actually set goals since I am a self sabotager (is that even a word?) and would find some way to ruin it for myself, so I kept this goal to myself and I achieved it! I told Andre over breakfast this morning that I should give myself a gold star!
It's been a week of an increased dose of my inhalers and I finally felt like I was up to getting back on there. I still can't push myself (ie jog as long or as fast as I was doing), but I still managed to get on there, and now I feel much better about myself. The best surprise came when I weighed myself this morning. This I had not done since a few days before I got sick, so it had been 19 days. EEEEEEEK! I was so nervous.
But lo and behold I had lost .8kg since last time! I was shocked! I had noticed a decrease in my appetite lately, which I attributed to well feeling like shit and not wanting to eat, and being on Metformin for just over 3 months, and it's normal to feel a decrease in appetite on Metformin. So then I calculated my total weight loss since I started this whole exercising thing: -4.7kg. Which doesn't sound nearly as impressive as -10.3lbs!!
This makes me so happy because 10lbs was my first official goal in my head. I don't actually set goals since I am a self sabotager (is that even a word?) and would find some way to ruin it for myself, so I kept this goal to myself and I achieved it! I told Andre over breakfast this morning that I should give myself a gold star!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
The Cost of Fertility Treatments
The one thing that worried me when I realized a long time ago that a very real possibility for us would be fertility treatments was the cost of it all. Yes we have money in the bank, yes we own our own home and work full time, but we're far from wealthy. We don't have tens of thousands of dollars sitting in the bank, and let's face it whenever someone mentions those words "fertility treatments" the first thing that pops into your mind are dollar signs, and visions of the Gosselins and Octomom, but that's another blog entry all together.
So for all of you out that are reading this and wondering, whether it be because fertility treatments could or are a reality for you, or it's just out of morbid curiosity, here is the real cost of fertility treatments. Or at least the cost that we have incurred over the last three cycles. Now keep in mind that I am still in the midst of my third cycle, and we do not know yet whether I am going to need a trigger shot to enduce ovulation, or whether we will be able to do timed intercourse, or if IUI is recommended. These variables will change the final total.
Now I will colour code each cycle so you have an idea of the cost that way. I will also start out with some diagnostic costs that we had to pay for, as well as the general medication that I had to take as a result of my PCOS diagnosis. Because I also have IBS, combined with the nasty Metformin side effects, my RE recommended a prescription prenatal vitamin with 5mg of Folic Acid because I was at a higher risk of malabsorption, that cost is included as well.
For those of you that are our neighbours to the South, you will notice I do not include the cost of my monthly monitoring, additional testing (ie. HSG), or bills for RE visits. This is because our Provincial Health Care plan (OHIP) covers all of these expenses. I honestly do not think our journey thus far would have been possible without these expenses being covered for us. For that I am truly grateful to live in Canada. We are also lucky that Andre's work insurance covers some of my medication that is not infertility related, so that helps greatly as well.
So with all that babbling here we go our Out of Pocket (OOP) Expenses:
Semen Analysis: (none covered by private insurance) $125.00
Diagnostic blood work (both) and ultrasound (me): OHIP
Metformin-3 month supply, 1000mg/day: (total:$130.44) After Insurance:$41.70
PregVit Folic 5-3 month supply of prenatals: (total: $121.46) After Insurance: $39.13
Total: ($376.90 without private insurance) After Insurance: $205.83
Cycle 1:
Provera (10mg/day for 10 days): (total $15.48) After Insurance: $8.48
Clomid 50mg (5 days): $45.45
All monitoring b/w and u/s: Free
Total Cycle 1: (without insurance: $60.93) After Insurance: $53.93
Cycle 2:
Provera (10mg/day for 10 days): (total $15. 48) After Insurance: $8.48
Clomid 100mg (5 days): $78.91
All monitoring b/w and u/s: Free
Total Cycle 2: (without insurance: $94.39) After Insurance: $87.39
Cycle 3:
Provera (10mg/day for 10 days): (total $15.48) After Insurance: $8.48
Clomid 150mg (5 days): $112.39
HSG (diagnostic test): Free
Puregon 300iu: $335.00
(may be subject to additional costs)
All monitoring b/w and u/s: Free
Total Cycle 3: (Without Insurance: $462.87) After Insurance: $455.87
Total OOP Expenses Cycle 1-3: $803.07
So for all of you out that are reading this and wondering, whether it be because fertility treatments could or are a reality for you, or it's just out of morbid curiosity, here is the real cost of fertility treatments. Or at least the cost that we have incurred over the last three cycles. Now keep in mind that I am still in the midst of my third cycle, and we do not know yet whether I am going to need a trigger shot to enduce ovulation, or whether we will be able to do timed intercourse, or if IUI is recommended. These variables will change the final total.
Now I will colour code each cycle so you have an idea of the cost that way. I will also start out with some diagnostic costs that we had to pay for, as well as the general medication that I had to take as a result of my PCOS diagnosis. Because I also have IBS, combined with the nasty Metformin side effects, my RE recommended a prescription prenatal vitamin with 5mg of Folic Acid because I was at a higher risk of malabsorption, that cost is included as well.
For those of you that are our neighbours to the South, you will notice I do not include the cost of my monthly monitoring, additional testing (ie. HSG), or bills for RE visits. This is because our Provincial Health Care plan (OHIP) covers all of these expenses. I honestly do not think our journey thus far would have been possible without these expenses being covered for us. For that I am truly grateful to live in Canada. We are also lucky that Andre's work insurance covers some of my medication that is not infertility related, so that helps greatly as well.
So with all that babbling here we go our Out of Pocket (OOP) Expenses:
Semen Analysis: (none covered by private insurance) $125.00
Diagnostic blood work (both) and ultrasound (me): OHIP
Metformin-3 month supply, 1000mg/day: (total:$130.44) After Insurance:$41.70
PregVit Folic 5-3 month supply of prenatals: (total: $121.46) After Insurance: $39.13
Total: ($376.90 without private insurance) After Insurance: $205.83
Cycle 1:
Provera (10mg/day for 10 days): (total $15.48) After Insurance: $8.48
Clomid 50mg (5 days): $45.45
All monitoring b/w and u/s: Free
Total Cycle 1: (without insurance: $60.93) After Insurance: $53.93
Cycle 2:
Provera (10mg/day for 10 days): (total $15. 48) After Insurance: $8.48
Clomid 100mg (5 days): $78.91
All monitoring b/w and u/s: Free
Total Cycle 2: (without insurance: $94.39) After Insurance: $87.39
Cycle 3:
Provera (10mg/day for 10 days): (total $15.48) After Insurance: $8.48
Clomid 150mg (5 days): $112.39
HSG (diagnostic test): Free
Puregon 300iu: $335.00
(may be subject to additional costs)
All monitoring b/w and u/s: Free
Total Cycle 3: (Without Insurance: $462.87) After Insurance: $455.87
Total OOP Expenses Cycle 1-3: $803.07
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Ovaries meet Puregon
I had my latest follie check this morning. It was just as I suspected, no response. This time I wasn't upset, I expected it. I know that I should never go into a cycle expecting failure, but I needed to to protect myself. There was that glimmer of optimism with the first check, but this one I just wanted it to be over, be done with Clomid.
The ultrasound technician tried really hard, and by hard, I mean she warned me it would hurt (and it did). She really wanted to make sure that she didn't overlook anything. But there was nothing there to overlook. Now don't get me wrong, there are follicles, but they are much too small. Like I mentioned before a mature follicle needs to be around 20mm, and mine were all under 10, on the 14th day of my cycle. The tech told me to talk to Dr C if I had time this morning so after getting my b/w done I waited to talk to him.
The first words out of his mouth when reviewing the results were "no response" the words I'm so used to hearing. He gave me two options for going forward: 1) wait another 3-4 days then come back for a follow up u/s and b/w to see if Clomid was going to do anything at all OR 2) move right on to injectable medications. For me it was a no brainer. I told him I didn't feel that 3-4 days would make any difference in my response. I wanted to move onto injectables. He agreed.
So this evening armed with the Puregon website on my laptop, and Andre by my side I got over my lifelong phobia of needles, and injected myself. Oh.my.goodness! I can't believe I was actually able to do it. I am so proud of myself! The plan now is to inject myself with 35iu (international units) of Puregon (which is FSH-Follicle Stimulating Hormone), each night for three nights, and then have a follow up exam on Saturday morning.
I think the only way to describe how I feel is excited! Aside from our first Clomid cycle, I feel hope. I feel like we have a shot. I feel like this could be the cycle for us. I know as well that this attitude could lead to something very bad if it's not successful, but like Andre says, we'll cross that bridge if we get to it. For now I'm going to live in that little bubble of optimism, daydreaming what it will be like to see those two little lines on a pregnancy test.
The ultrasound technician tried really hard, and by hard, I mean she warned me it would hurt (and it did). She really wanted to make sure that she didn't overlook anything. But there was nothing there to overlook. Now don't get me wrong, there are follicles, but they are much too small. Like I mentioned before a mature follicle needs to be around 20mm, and mine were all under 10, on the 14th day of my cycle. The tech told me to talk to Dr C if I had time this morning so after getting my b/w done I waited to talk to him.
The first words out of his mouth when reviewing the results were "no response" the words I'm so used to hearing. He gave me two options for going forward: 1) wait another 3-4 days then come back for a follow up u/s and b/w to see if Clomid was going to do anything at all OR 2) move right on to injectable medications. For me it was a no brainer. I told him I didn't feel that 3-4 days would make any difference in my response. I wanted to move onto injectables. He agreed.
So this evening armed with the Puregon website on my laptop, and Andre by my side I got over my lifelong phobia of needles, and injected myself. Oh.my.goodness! I can't believe I was actually able to do it. I am so proud of myself! The plan now is to inject myself with 35iu (international units) of Puregon (which is FSH-Follicle Stimulating Hormone), each night for three nights, and then have a follow up exam on Saturday morning.
I think the only way to describe how I feel is excited! Aside from our first Clomid cycle, I feel hope. I feel like we have a shot. I feel like this could be the cycle for us. I know as well that this attitude could lead to something very bad if it's not successful, but like Andre says, we'll cross that bridge if we get to it. For now I'm going to live in that little bubble of optimism, daydreaming what it will be like to see those two little lines on a pregnancy test.
Friday, June 4, 2010
All Clear!
Well I had the HSG done this morning, and I got the all clear. Everyone kept telling me how cool it would be to see my uterus and fallopian tubes on screen, but the way the room was situated I didn't get a chance to see anything :o(
It was over super quick though. Everything I had read about the procedure said that the entire thing would last around 5 minutes. I think the entire test lasted around 2 minutes! It was a little uncomfortable, comparable to a Pap test I guess. The real pain came after. They did the test, he told me it was done and everything was normal, and unblocked, then the nurse ushered me into a washroom with a pad that was probably made in 1970, it was so thick. As I was getting dressed the cramping really started. For about a half hour/45 minutes I had really bad cramping, but then it went away. The cramping afterwards felt worse than the actual test did amazingly enough.
Before the test I had my first follie check of this cycle. It was just as the other two failed Clomid cycles started; quite a few small follicles, but none even close to 10mm. I was not upset though since I didn't have my hopes up that the Clomid would actually work this time. I didn't hear back from the clinic this afternoon about what my next step is though, which is super frustrating! I left a message, and I know the clinic is open tomorrow (a Saturday), so I hope that someone will return my call tomorrow instead of making me wait till Monday.
I think now I am going to rest since I am in the midst of the head cold from hell. Tylenol Sinus is calling my name.
It was over super quick though. Everything I had read about the procedure said that the entire thing would last around 5 minutes. I think the entire test lasted around 2 minutes! It was a little uncomfortable, comparable to a Pap test I guess. The real pain came after. They did the test, he told me it was done and everything was normal, and unblocked, then the nurse ushered me into a washroom with a pad that was probably made in 1970, it was so thick. As I was getting dressed the cramping really started. For about a half hour/45 minutes I had really bad cramping, but then it went away. The cramping afterwards felt worse than the actual test did amazingly enough.
Before the test I had my first follie check of this cycle. It was just as the other two failed Clomid cycles started; quite a few small follicles, but none even close to 10mm. I was not upset though since I didn't have my hopes up that the Clomid would actually work this time. I didn't hear back from the clinic this afternoon about what my next step is though, which is super frustrating! I left a message, and I know the clinic is open tomorrow (a Saturday), so I hope that someone will return my call tomorrow instead of making me wait till Monday.
I think now I am going to rest since I am in the midst of the head cold from hell. Tylenol Sinus is calling my name.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Welcome to Crazytown
Population: Me
Or at least that is how I feel while I am on Clomid. I don't know what it is about that drug, but it's like all common sense and normalcy leave my body, and all that is left is this hysterical, crazy person. Not fun.
So if you haven't guessed I am once again on the Clomid bandwagon. I had my baseline b/w and u/s done on Friday morning which was CD2. We discussed some options about what the next step could be since the previous two cycles on Clomid were non-responsive. The RE asked about my symptoms and since I don't have a history of some of the more horrible Clomid side effects (headaches/migraines, vision disturbances) he decided to try one more time. This time he prescribed 150mg. I am not looking forward to the craziness. I'm crossing my fingers the maniacal mood swings last cycle were a fluke, and I will be cool as a cucumber this time. Only time will tell.
He did tell me that if when I go in for my first follie check this coming Friday that there has been no response, that he will immediately start another different medication. I will not have to wait for this cycle to be ended yet again with another dose of Provera. I also made a big stink about not having a Hysterosalpinogram, otherwise known as an HSG, so I have one of those booked on Friday morning as well.
An HSG is one of the first tests that most RE's recommend that their patients before beginning fertility treatments. My RE is of the opinion (I'm not saying it's the right opinion) that if you are of a lower risk for fallopian tube blockages, he will wait until there is an unsuccessful cycle (ie. ovulation, but no pregnancy) before ordering one to be done. Well I changed my mind about halfway through the second Clomid cycle. I decided that I wasn't willing to go through the emotional roller coaster of another cycle if he wasn't going to order one. So at 11:30 on Friday morning I will have dye shot through my fallopian tubes. Doesn't that sound like fun?
My mother along with two of my friends have had this procedure done. My mother and one of my friends said that it was no big deal. My other friend said it was one of the most painful things she has had to go through. Altogether the procedure is suppose to last around 5 minutes. I'll give you my verdict later on on Friday. Since I have no clue how I am going to feel, and since I can only take Tylenol beforehand (this sucks so much) I booked the afternoon off. I decided that if having someone insert a catheter through your cervix and then shoot dye through your reproductive organs doesn't constitute a "mental health day" then I don't know what does. That and I'm already working Saturday, so when you think about it it's like I'm not really taking any time off.
Or at least that is how I feel while I am on Clomid. I don't know what it is about that drug, but it's like all common sense and normalcy leave my body, and all that is left is this hysterical, crazy person. Not fun.
So if you haven't guessed I am once again on the Clomid bandwagon. I had my baseline b/w and u/s done on Friday morning which was CD2. We discussed some options about what the next step could be since the previous two cycles on Clomid were non-responsive. The RE asked about my symptoms and since I don't have a history of some of the more horrible Clomid side effects (headaches/migraines, vision disturbances) he decided to try one more time. This time he prescribed 150mg. I am not looking forward to the craziness. I'm crossing my fingers the maniacal mood swings last cycle were a fluke, and I will be cool as a cucumber this time. Only time will tell.
He did tell me that if when I go in for my first follie check this coming Friday that there has been no response, that he will immediately start another different medication. I will not have to wait for this cycle to be ended yet again with another dose of Provera. I also made a big stink about not having a Hysterosalpinogram, otherwise known as an HSG, so I have one of those booked on Friday morning as well.
An HSG is one of the first tests that most RE's recommend that their patients before beginning fertility treatments. My RE is of the opinion (I'm not saying it's the right opinion) that if you are of a lower risk for fallopian tube blockages, he will wait until there is an unsuccessful cycle (ie. ovulation, but no pregnancy) before ordering one to be done. Well I changed my mind about halfway through the second Clomid cycle. I decided that I wasn't willing to go through the emotional roller coaster of another cycle if he wasn't going to order one. So at 11:30 on Friday morning I will have dye shot through my fallopian tubes. Doesn't that sound like fun?
My mother along with two of my friends have had this procedure done. My mother and one of my friends said that it was no big deal. My other friend said it was one of the most painful things she has had to go through. Altogether the procedure is suppose to last around 5 minutes. I'll give you my verdict later on on Friday. Since I have no clue how I am going to feel, and since I can only take Tylenol beforehand (this sucks so much) I booked the afternoon off. I decided that if having someone insert a catheter through your cervix and then shoot dye through your reproductive organs doesn't constitute a "mental health day" then I don't know what does. That and I'm already working Saturday, so when you think about it it's like I'm not really taking any time off.
Monday, May 24, 2010
The waiting game
I have decided that the one lesson I am to learn through this whole fertility treatment thing is the lesson of patience. There is so much waiting that goes on with a cycle.
It starts with waiting. You get AF, then wait for your baseline u/s and b/w on CD1. Then you wait for the nurse to call you with the results. Then you start your specific medication. Then you wait for your first follie check. If it's a good one then you're waiting to see when you'll actually ovulate (something that I've never gotten to). Then you wait through the dreaded 2ww seeing if maybe just maybe you timed everything just right, and you were lucky (again, I've never gotten this far). If you weren't lucky then you wait for AF to arrive.
This is the stage that I'm at right now. Waiting for AF to arrive. It's funny, when I was on the pill I dreaded the end of the pack. Dreaded AF's arrival and the days of just feeling BLAH while she was here. Now, it's a countdown. Waiting for it, because with it comes the beginning of a new cycle. After two unsuccessful medicated cycles a new cycle means potential and hope that maybe this will be the cycle we will have a shot. Hope that just weeks later I could be staring at two lines on a pregnancy test.
So now I wait.
It starts with waiting. You get AF, then wait for your baseline u/s and b/w on CD1. Then you wait for the nurse to call you with the results. Then you start your specific medication. Then you wait for your first follie check. If it's a good one then you're waiting to see when you'll actually ovulate (something that I've never gotten to). Then you wait through the dreaded 2ww seeing if maybe just maybe you timed everything just right, and you were lucky (again, I've never gotten this far). If you weren't lucky then you wait for AF to arrive.
This is the stage that I'm at right now. Waiting for AF to arrive. It's funny, when I was on the pill I dreaded the end of the pack. Dreaded AF's arrival and the days of just feeling BLAH while she was here. Now, it's a countdown. Waiting for it, because with it comes the beginning of a new cycle. After two unsuccessful medicated cycles a new cycle means potential and hope that maybe this will be the cycle we will have a shot. Hope that just weeks later I could be staring at two lines on a pregnancy test.
So now I wait.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Cycle #2 of Clomid=FAIL
For the second time I have gone for my last follie check around CD21-22 only to find that instead of the Clomid producing follicles they have disappeared. 7 out of 8 of my follicles were gone. I have one remaining on my left ovary, so I will be heading into the clinic on CD3 for my first visit with the dildo cam of the cycle. I am NOT looking forward to that at all. The danger with one follicle remaining is that it will remain and turn into a cyst. Fertility drugs do very bad things to cysts, and a cyst could grow and eventually rupture causing damage. This is something that RE's monitor, so this can be avoided.
I was given another prescription for Provera. We haven't discussed what I will be taking next cycle, but it was decided at my second check this cycle that I would be starting a different medication, and not trying a higher dose of Clomid. At this point the two options would be Femara, or Injectibles. Now I just have to wait out the next two weeks until we find out what the next plan is.
Stay tuned.
I was given another prescription for Provera. We haven't discussed what I will be taking next cycle, but it was decided at my second check this cycle that I would be starting a different medication, and not trying a higher dose of Clomid. At this point the two options would be Femara, or Injectibles. Now I just have to wait out the next two weeks until we find out what the next plan is.
Stay tuned.
My Theme Song
There are a few message boards out there that I have started to frequent since we started this whole TTC journey. Actually that's a lie, I lurked for a long time before we actually started TTC. On one of these boards a couple weeks ago was a discussion about the Michael Buble Song "Haven't Met You Yet". One of the girls was talking about how the lyrics to this song really struck a chord with her and her TTC journey. The ups and downs of it all.
Now Andre and I have all of his albums, and Andre just happened to have uploaded this album onto my MP3 player, so one morning while on the treadmill I started to listen to it. For those of you out there that live under a rock here it is:
So there I was on the treadmill listening to my MP3 player really listening to this song for the first time. I cried. Here was a song that perfectly summed up my feelings and emotions. Especially since we have begun treatment with our RE. So now whenever I'm on the treadmill I listen to this song while I jog. It helps me to push myself, reminds me of why I push myself. This song helps to remind me of why I take all the hormones, why I drive myself to the brink of insanity (and Andre too I'm sure).
Now Andre and I have all of his albums, and Andre just happened to have uploaded this album onto my MP3 player, so one morning while on the treadmill I started to listen to it. For those of you out there that live under a rock here it is:
So there I was on the treadmill listening to my MP3 player really listening to this song for the first time. I cried. Here was a song that perfectly summed up my feelings and emotions. Especially since we have begun treatment with our RE. So now whenever I'm on the treadmill I listen to this song while I jog. It helps me to push myself, reminds me of why I push myself. This song helps to remind me of why I take all the hormones, why I drive myself to the brink of insanity (and Andre too I'm sure).
I might have to wait, I'll never give up
I guess it's half timing, and the other half's luck
Wherever you are, whenever it's right
You'll come out of nowhere and into my life
~Michael Buble
"Haven't met you yet"
I guess it's half timing, and the other half's luck
Wherever you are, whenever it's right
You'll come out of nowhere and into my life
~Michael Buble
"Haven't met you yet"
Monday, May 3, 2010
I'm Baaaaack
Well I wasn't really gone, but decided to get off my butt and do a blog entry today. I promised my friend Mary Ann that I would do and update and recipe, so I am accountable!
I hate to say it but it looks like cycle #2 on Clomid is looking like a big fat fail. I had my first Follie Check (follicle check) last Wednesday. That was CD10. The good news was that I had 4 follicles on each ovary. The bad news was that they were all under 10mm and the biggest on each side was only 6mm. To give you a good reference, a mature follicle is around 20mm. See, mine were small. The lab tech is always so nice. She had "the look" on her face, but still told me "It's still early!" in her Romanian accent.
After a week spent in a emotionless haze, I was back again this morning for my second follie check. More dismal news. It was CD15 today and my follicles had not grown. Not the news I was dying to hear. It seems that I had shed all my tears last week so the remaining emotion today is just frustration. I have not ovulated since April 1, 2009. It has been 397 days since Andre and I last had a chance at getting pregnant. I would just like a chance, just one chance. Instead I count the days until I have to take some drug to give me my period.
::Le Sigh::
The worst part of this morning is that Dr. C wasn't in the office yet this morning when I was getting my b/w and u/s done. So instead of having a meeting with him immediately I had to wait until he had a chance to review my results. They finally called just a little bit ago. Dr C agreed that I am not responding to the Clomid (although the nurse assured me that anything could happen over the next week). I have to go back next Monday for yet another follie check. If at that time there is no response I am going to start Provera again. Oh Joy! The only difference is that they won't be doing Clomid again. We will be doing a different treatment. I have no idea what that will be, so I will be discussing that with him then.
So now I just sit and wait.
I hate to say it but it looks like cycle #2 on Clomid is looking like a big fat fail. I had my first Follie Check (follicle check) last Wednesday. That was CD10. The good news was that I had 4 follicles on each ovary. The bad news was that they were all under 10mm and the biggest on each side was only 6mm. To give you a good reference, a mature follicle is around 20mm. See, mine were small. The lab tech is always so nice. She had "the look" on her face, but still told me "It's still early!" in her Romanian accent.
After a week spent in a emotionless haze, I was back again this morning for my second follie check. More dismal news. It was CD15 today and my follicles had not grown. Not the news I was dying to hear. It seems that I had shed all my tears last week so the remaining emotion today is just frustration. I have not ovulated since April 1, 2009. It has been 397 days since Andre and I last had a chance at getting pregnant. I would just like a chance, just one chance. Instead I count the days until I have to take some drug to give me my period.
::Le Sigh::
The worst part of this morning is that Dr. C wasn't in the office yet this morning when I was getting my b/w and u/s done. So instead of having a meeting with him immediately I had to wait until he had a chance to review my results. They finally called just a little bit ago. Dr C agreed that I am not responding to the Clomid (although the nurse assured me that anything could happen over the next week). I have to go back next Monday for yet another follie check. If at that time there is no response I am going to start Provera again. Oh Joy! The only difference is that they won't be doing Clomid again. We will be doing a different treatment. I have no idea what that will be, so I will be discussing that with him then.
So now I just sit and wait.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Here we go again!
I am officially in the midst of my second cycle on Clomid. Things are going a little differently this cycle. Last time I had virtually no side-effects. I wanted water all the time, but I go through phases like that normally, so I didn't really think anything of that. I also had a night or two of night sweats, but with the temperature fluctuations lately I really didn't think anything of it. All in all aside from it being a dismal failure I didn't do too badly the first time.
I started taking the pills Wednesday night. Thursday went okay. I felt like I was in a little bit of a foul mood, but sometimes that happens when dealing with stupid people on the phone at work right? Well Friday, hmmm, well I could definitely tell that my moods were being affected. I didn't feel like myself. I almost full on did the "OMG, could you be any more of a pain" sigh on the phone when booking an appointment. Thankfully I didn't but I wanted to. Have I mentioned before that I work in a 99% female office? Yeah, this was not a good thing Friday. One of the girls was sick and bitchy and coughing everywhere, she was irritating me. Then another girl was wound so tightly I swear to God she squeaked when she walked. She had this manic energy about her that just made me want to scream. I was on the verge of screaming and telling everyone they should just shut the eff up because they were being stupid, but I didn't.
The icing on the perverbial cake was when I was leaving work to catch the bus to go home. I walked to the crosswalk, pressed the button, waited till the hand illuminated so I could walk, checked for cars turning left and looked their way and began to cross. Then this ASSHAT came barreling into the intersection not bothering to check that there was a pedestrian crossing LEGALLY and I swear, he was 3 feet from hitting me. If it wasn't for the very frail old couple waiting at the bus stop at the other side of the street I swear I would've gone postal beating this car with my purse and tote bag. It would have been quite a show for sure. Instead I muttered obsenities, glared at the jerk and continued to cross. It took all my self control, let me tell you!
I was so angry! Not just regular angry, but in-laws-requesting-more-guests-a-week-before-the-wedding-crazy! So what was a girl to do? Pull out the big guns that's what. I did what any self respecting 30-something would do. I went home and made myself a drink. Not just any drink, but a chocolate martini. It's like Valium in a glass. It's my signature drink. I once drank 5 at a night out and the waitress was so impressed that I could drink that much and still walk (somewhat assisted) that she gave me a set of martini glasses. I still have them. But I digress....
Yes, I went home, called my mother, dug out my martini glasses and cocktail shaker and made two very excellent Chocolate Martini's. We sat, bitched about our crap days and let the wonderful chocolate/vodka goodness take over. It was heaven in a glass. The best part I was nice and relaxed when Andre got home. I figured after all the moodiness I put him through the least I could do is be in a liquor induced calm when he got home from work.
I couldn't help but hope that maybe just maybe that could be my last chocolate martini for awhile if we're successful this cycle..... ::le sigh::
I will end this blog entry with a recipe for:
Jenna's Amazing Chocolate Martini's!!
(well they're not mine, I got the recipe from some book, but whatever!)
1 oz of vodka (your favourite kind)
1 oz of Creme de Cacao (the clear one)
(for those that find regular vodka too strong, you may substitute Vanilla Vodka)
Pour into a cocktail shake filled with ice, shake and pour into a martini glass. Enjoy!!
I started taking the pills Wednesday night. Thursday went okay. I felt like I was in a little bit of a foul mood, but sometimes that happens when dealing with stupid people on the phone at work right? Well Friday, hmmm, well I could definitely tell that my moods were being affected. I didn't feel like myself. I almost full on did the "OMG, could you be any more of a pain" sigh on the phone when booking an appointment. Thankfully I didn't but I wanted to. Have I mentioned before that I work in a 99% female office? Yeah, this was not a good thing Friday. One of the girls was sick and bitchy and coughing everywhere, she was irritating me. Then another girl was wound so tightly I swear to God she squeaked when she walked. She had this manic energy about her that just made me want to scream. I was on the verge of screaming and telling everyone they should just shut the eff up because they were being stupid, but I didn't.
The icing on the perverbial cake was when I was leaving work to catch the bus to go home. I walked to the crosswalk, pressed the button, waited till the hand illuminated so I could walk, checked for cars turning left and looked their way and began to cross. Then this ASSHAT came barreling into the intersection not bothering to check that there was a pedestrian crossing LEGALLY and I swear, he was 3 feet from hitting me. If it wasn't for the very frail old couple waiting at the bus stop at the other side of the street I swear I would've gone postal beating this car with my purse and tote bag. It would have been quite a show for sure. Instead I muttered obsenities, glared at the jerk and continued to cross. It took all my self control, let me tell you!
I was so angry! Not just regular angry, but in-laws-requesting-more-guests-a-week-before-the-wedding-crazy! So what was a girl to do? Pull out the big guns that's what. I did what any self respecting 30-something would do. I went home and made myself a drink. Not just any drink, but a chocolate martini. It's like Valium in a glass. It's my signature drink. I once drank 5 at a night out and the waitress was so impressed that I could drink that much and still walk (somewhat assisted) that she gave me a set of martini glasses. I still have them. But I digress....
Yes, I went home, called my mother, dug out my martini glasses and cocktail shaker and made two very excellent Chocolate Martini's. We sat, bitched about our crap days and let the wonderful chocolate/vodka goodness take over. It was heaven in a glass. The best part I was nice and relaxed when Andre got home. I figured after all the moodiness I put him through the least I could do is be in a liquor induced calm when he got home from work.
I couldn't help but hope that maybe just maybe that could be my last chocolate martini for awhile if we're successful this cycle..... ::le sigh::
I will end this blog entry with a recipe for:
Jenna's Amazing Chocolate Martini's!!
(well they're not mine, I got the recipe from some book, but whatever!)
1 oz of vodka (your favourite kind)
1 oz of Creme de Cacao (the clear one)
(for those that find regular vodka too strong, you may substitute Vanilla Vodka)
Pour into a cocktail shake filled with ice, shake and pour into a martini glass. Enjoy!!
Friday, April 2, 2010
The Roller Coaster
This week has been a rough one. I always knew that TTC for us would be a challenge. Call it a gut feeling, call it intuition, call it what you will, but I always knew. I knew when I was in my early 20's and I would only get AF twice in one year. I knew when I would get random spotting every 26 days, but no actual period. I knew something was wrong even though the doctors told me it was "normal". I just knew.
That is the reason that I told Andre that I wanted to go off BCP a full year before we actually started TTC. I wanted to get those hormones out of my system. I wanted to give my body the benefit of the doubt, I wanted to see if maybe, just maybe I would be like those women who had wonky cycles before going on the pill only to come off it years later and be like "clockwork". The universe had other plans for me. So I prepared myself. I did research on online forums, googled different conditions, took mental notes when friends talked about fertility treatments, costs and side effects. Trying to prepare myself as much as possible for that inevitable moment when some doctor told me what was wrong with me.
So when Dr C finally uttered those four words that would seal the deal, give me a label, and most likely change the rest of my reproductive life forever I was just a teeny tiny bit prepared. Happy even. There was a reason, a name, a label. There was something wrong with me! The best part is that it is a common thing, something he sees all the time, something he treats all the time. It was not a matter of if he could help us get pregnant, it was a matter of when.
I was prepared for the diagnosis, I was prepared for the plan, the Metformin, the Clomid. What you can never prepare yourself for is the roller coaster that I was about to board. The worst part of this roller coaster is that for the most part you are alone. Yes, I have a wonderful, amazing, loving, supportive husband. Andre is truly my rock. But Andre doesn't have a uterus. Andre doesn't lie on the table with his feet in stirrups while the ultrasound tech violates me with the dildo cam while I pray to God that there are some follicles. For that I am alone.
When the ultrasound tech broke my heart and told me on Monday which was the 14th day of my cycle, that the follicles that she had found the week before hadn't grown, I was alone. When I waited in the hallway of Dr C's office waiting for him to tell me that another round of Provera and a stronger dose of Clomid were inevitable, I was alone. When I realized that my dream of possibly holding a little Christmas miracle in my arms wasn't going to happen, I was alone. Even when Andre wrapped his arms around me on our way out to the car after that appointment and kissed the top of my head and told me he loved me, I felt alone.
All the reading, all the research in the world doesn't prepare you for this roller coaster; the waiting, the hoping, more waiting, more hoping. Until you've been on this roller coaster, you'll never truly know.
That is the reason that I told Andre that I wanted to go off BCP a full year before we actually started TTC. I wanted to get those hormones out of my system. I wanted to give my body the benefit of the doubt, I wanted to see if maybe, just maybe I would be like those women who had wonky cycles before going on the pill only to come off it years later and be like "clockwork". The universe had other plans for me. So I prepared myself. I did research on online forums, googled different conditions, took mental notes when friends talked about fertility treatments, costs and side effects. Trying to prepare myself as much as possible for that inevitable moment when some doctor told me what was wrong with me.
So when Dr C finally uttered those four words that would seal the deal, give me a label, and most likely change the rest of my reproductive life forever I was just a teeny tiny bit prepared. Happy even. There was a reason, a name, a label. There was something wrong with me! The best part is that it is a common thing, something he sees all the time, something he treats all the time. It was not a matter of if he could help us get pregnant, it was a matter of when.
I was prepared for the diagnosis, I was prepared for the plan, the Metformin, the Clomid. What you can never prepare yourself for is the roller coaster that I was about to board. The worst part of this roller coaster is that for the most part you are alone. Yes, I have a wonderful, amazing, loving, supportive husband. Andre is truly my rock. But Andre doesn't have a uterus. Andre doesn't lie on the table with his feet in stirrups while the ultrasound tech violates me with the dildo cam while I pray to God that there are some follicles. For that I am alone.
When the ultrasound tech broke my heart and told me on Monday which was the 14th day of my cycle, that the follicles that she had found the week before hadn't grown, I was alone. When I waited in the hallway of Dr C's office waiting for him to tell me that another round of Provera and a stronger dose of Clomid were inevitable, I was alone. When I realized that my dream of possibly holding a little Christmas miracle in my arms wasn't going to happen, I was alone. Even when Andre wrapped his arms around me on our way out to the car after that appointment and kissed the top of my head and told me he loved me, I felt alone.
All the reading, all the research in the world doesn't prepare you for this roller coaster; the waiting, the hoping, more waiting, more hoping. Until you've been on this roller coaster, you'll never truly know.
"Faith isn't faith until it's all you're holding onto."
~P.B.S Pinchback
Thursday, March 4, 2010
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly
That pretty much sums up our day yesterday. Yesterday being another appointment with Dr. C our RE. We had both been walking on eggshells since last week. First in anticipation of Andre's Semen Analysis (SA) on Monday, then the results on Wednesday. It's been a rough few days with most of it spent constantly nit-picking at each other. We were both so frustrated, nervous and on edge and we took that frustration out on each other. Not fun.
So first off at the clinic was a full round of ultrasounds for me. Yeah, more quality time with the dildo cam! (this is sarcasm people!) The ultrasound tech was a wonderful woman, she joked that I could still smile and laugh even though she was pushing on my full bladder. I told her I've had so many u/s over the last year that I've discovered the ideal amount of water to drink so my bladder is nice and full, but not so much I'm grimacing in pain on the table.
Now you may remember reading that I've had two other u/s done, one from my family doctor when I first approached her with what was going on, and other time with my gyno who specifically sent me for u/s's to rule out PCOS. Well I don't know what happened when both of those doctors said that everything was clear, because clear as day were a bunch of tiny little cysts on my ovaries. Here is a picture of a poly cystic ovary:
So first off at the clinic was a full round of ultrasounds for me. Yeah, more quality time with the dildo cam! (this is sarcasm people!) The ultrasound tech was a wonderful woman, she joked that I could still smile and laugh even though she was pushing on my full bladder. I told her I've had so many u/s over the last year that I've discovered the ideal amount of water to drink so my bladder is nice and full, but not so much I'm grimacing in pain on the table.
Now you may remember reading that I've had two other u/s done, one from my family doctor when I first approached her with what was going on, and other time with my gyno who specifically sent me for u/s's to rule out PCOS. Well I don't know what happened when both of those doctors said that everything was clear, because clear as day were a bunch of tiny little cysts on my ovaries. Here is a picture of a poly cystic ovary:
From what I saw on my u/s picture mine were more bunched together, but you get the picture. The picture above is pretty much textbook Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome findings. So after all this time, 18 months of wondering why I was not ovulating I know the reason. I have PCOS. At least now we have a diagnosis. Since Andre's SA results came back and he passed with flying colours, we can now move on to the next step: treatment.
In addition to some lifestyle modifications that I need to make, Dr C has prescribed Metformin to help manage some of the symptoms associated with the PCOS, Provera to end this never ending 80+ day cycle, Clomid that I am to start on Cycle Day (CD) 3 as soon as the next cycle begins. This medication will help to stimulate ovulation, but he is doubtful that the doseage he recommended will do the trick. He said he was going to "give me the benefit of the doubt". Finally he changed my regular OTC prenatal vitamin to PregVit5 which is a higher dosage prenatal to counteract the nasty side effects, and possible malabsorption of nutrients of the Metformin, and my IBS. All I have to say is thank goodness for health insurance! Even with our coverage, we ended up paying over $100 for all the medications.
I started taking the Metformin and the Provera last night. Today I'm feeling pretty good, but not 100%. I don't feel any nausea, but just feeling blah, and a little off. Hopefully that's as bad as it gets today.
I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much for this upcoming cycle especially when Dr C doesn't feel that it will work, but I just can't help it. I know Andre is excited, he was a little bummed when I told him that the medication might not work and I might not ovulate at all. I don't know who will be more disappointed by a big fat negative (BFN), me or him. Until then we have faith. Faith that we are in good hands, and that we are on the right path to becoming parents.
(The source of the image used was found here)
Without faith a man can do nothing;
with it all things are possible.
~Sir William Osler
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