By now, if you've been reading my posts and "story," you know of our "family" friend who was able to get us into the fertility clinic to see the doctors and get another opinion. You may or may not be wondering who this person is, how we came to know one another, etc. but it's an integral part of the story and when I look back over my life, I would never have guessed it unless a fortune teller came up to me and said, "THIS PERSON (insert name here) WILL BE YOUR GUIDE TO CHILDREN REGARDLESS OF YOUR PAST HISTORY."
Lets go way back....when I was a wee lad my parents were on the outs. I was about 10 years old and things were crumbling to the ground like an avalanche had just rumbled down the mountain side...with the stress of my brother and his condition, this put additional stress on my parents, my mother was depressed, I was pushed aside to go stay with my grandparents and eat away my feelings. My brother has a severe syndrome called PKS...Pallister-Killian Syndrome. I'm not going to go into crazy details but he basically functions like a 6-month old baby. He can't walk, he can't talk, he can't communicate...if he's hungry, he cries. If he's happy, he laughs. It's literally like that of a baby. He's wheel chair bound and can not take care of himself. He has seizures and symptoms similar to Cerebral Palsy. If you want to learn more, feel free to check out this link: http://www.pkskids.net/
With that being said, they got divorced and all fell apart...my mom, brother and I moved and so did my dad. We stayed in close proximity and still stayed with my dad every other weekend and Wednesdays. But, life went on...eventually, my dad started dating again and met "M" - she was from a rival town about 20 minutes from my home town, had two children...the same age as myself and my brother. They started dating and one thing led to another...we were going to merge the two rival households into one with marriage numero dos aka two. This was a task in itself...I was a pre-teen along with M's daughter, so hormones were raging...My brother and her son, were the same but different so things weren't too bad there...but, still...they tried shoving each of us in the same room, girls with girls...boys with boys. My dad moved away to the rival town and commuted to work...when we stayed with him, we had to do the same. Made things pretty tough to get around, go to school, see friends, etc. And of course, there was fighting...M and her kids "owned" the house...it was their house, their rooms, their food, their water, their stuff...I felt like a guest and my dad wanted it to be my home, but it never felt this way. I literally would have to ask to have food, bottled water, if I could sit on my dad's bed. I remember stealing tampons from the master bedroom because I was too afraid to ask. Things were just different and this caused a resentment in me, almost hatred for the way things were and how we were treated. I really don't think it was recognized because when I'd bring it up, even to this day, my dad tells me I'm overreacting or that never happened. But, it did.
This is how things went for a good 6 years...we grew together, laughed together, fought together...but, then I got sick and shit hit the fan again. My parents had to actually talk and deal with stuff...M wanted to be included because she was a nurse and needed to give her input. This put my mom over the edge and more fighting occurred...they seemed to hate each other. My mom would say crap about M and M would get mad at my mom...seemed like they were always at each other's throats and my dad just sided with M all the time regardless of the situation. Yes, this was all going on when I was battling cancer, going through chemo treatments, radiation treatments, bone marrow transplants, you name it. Again, this was the straw that broke the camels back...eventually my dad asked M for a divorce that she didn't want after 10 years of marriage...I don't know the whole story, what happened or why they split. All I know is that I had this horrible hatred in my body for this woman. I'm not sure what it was and I still can't put a finger on it...but, it was probably because I felt like I felt like I was in a "normal" family and then my heart was ripped out on the floor and I blamed her for everything. AND it was my fault, or so I thought, because I was going through cancer stuff and broke my families apart. I held onto this grudge for a long time...a couple years. It tore me apart inside and I think it made my mom a little happy...sad. As the years past and I grew up....things got better, feelings got accepted and pushed aside. I had a sudden urge to just forgive M even if I didn't really know what I was so mad about. So, one day I just sat down at the computer and wrote an email to M explaining my frustration and forgiving her for whatever happened in the past. The day I sent this letter to her was actually M's birthday...she said it was the best gift she had ever received and was so glad all was better and that we could move forward...After this happened, my mom actually sat down with M and hashed things out...they got on the same page, understood one another and are now actually quite close friends. We actually all went on a trip this past winter to Mexico...that's how strangely normal it is. Crazy, I know. My dad hates that we all love each other and hang out now. He really doesn't get it but I really don't care :)
I bet you've guessed it by now..."M", my step mother once removed, the woman I was afraid of, the person that stole my dad from me, is our close "family" friend that decided to pick up her life, get a new job in the city at the fertility clinic because of us, because of my story, because of everything we went through. She is the one who got us into the clinic, that gave us options, that made us talk to the doctors. She is the one that still helped me through the tough times growing up...from boys to cancer to you name it. She's literally my second mom, even with our ups and downs. She's helped me get to where I am today and I'm truly grateful for everything that happened.
Looking back....I never, ever, ever would've guessed or even dreamed that we'd be where we are today. I never thought we'd have other options, I never thought we might actually be able to get pregnant, I never thought that M would be the one to get us there...I never thought she would be that person. It is a true testament that everything happens for a reason. People come into your life when you need them most...sometimes for a specific reason, a season or a lifetime. M will be in our lives forever and whatever baby comes out of these struggles will have the privilege to call her Gramma M.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Updates anyone?? Updates?
No updates here....BORING. Don't you remember when I posted before about being a sitting duck? Well, still am. Just sitting here. Waiting.
My husband still won't commit to go get his LAST blood test...the one that sprung up on us recently with a $300 fee attached to it (no insurance will cover). I even emailed him yesterday during work to see if I could just set it up for him...because that's what it'll come down to if I want it to get done. He literally sent me back a one liner that said, "I'm not sure when I want to do it." That's it. I'm trying not to be pushy...but, seriously?!?! I'll have to bug him again tonight and remind him that he can do it any time he wants...not like the other tests where there was a specific window of opportunity. I'll have to time it right though, in order to get the response I need...I guess that means we'll have to hop in the sack and take care of business THEN bring it up!
I was able to spend time over the Memorial Day weekend with my best friend who now lives out of state. Her and her husband just had a baby and he's two months old now...we had always dreamed about growing up together, living on the same cul-de-sac, raising our children together just like we grew up. She lived next door to my grandparents so we have been attached at the hip since we were about 2 years old. We know each other better than anyone else...the good, the bad, the happy, the sad. We had big plans... but as you grow older and pursue your own life, dreams and goals...things change. We have never "Grown apart" but we have moved apart physically. She went to school in North Dakota and I went over to Duluth. She became a physical therapist and accepted a job offer in Arizona...I fell in love, got into sales and moved to the cities. We still were able to stay in touch and visit each other a couple times a year, both in AZ and MN. But, it's tough...then I found out all that great news about my infertility and realized that we would never live near each other and have our kids grow up together. I actually felt OK about it because she met the man of her dreams and got engaged but they planned to never have children. I know this is awful but it made me feel better. I didn't want her to raise a kid without me! Well, less than a year after they were married, she accidentally got pregnant....they got married, got pregnant, bought two dogs and a house, all in less than a year...while we sit here an struggle. I was truly happy for them, I really was...but, I remember the day she called to tell me about the news. I remember where I was, what I was doing, the time of day...I literally burst into tears in both joy and sadness. I immediately told her this reaction was not an indication of the news she just shared with me...I was extremely happy for her because I know having children was so important to her but a non-existent goal for her husband. But, I did have to explain to her why I was crying, why I was sad, why I was mad we wouldn't be able to raise our children together...she understood, but our relationship got put on hold...she told me she was nervous to tell me the news...and then after that, I didn't hear much from her until I literally confronted her. I had to call her and tell her not to worry about calling me and talking about the pregnancy, the baby, the movements, the changes. I had to reassure her that I would not burst into tears again because I was mad, jealous or sad. I told her I wanted to be a part of this even though my dreams have faded into memories. She expressed her concern, her empathy...she didn't want to make things worse for me but understood where I was coming from. From then on out, things were better...I visited AZ when she was "with child," she came home and we went out on the 4-wheelers roaming the forest. Things were back to normal.
When she had the baby, I was so excited...my number one goal was to get down there and visit, to help out as best as I could. Being a mom comes naturally...so it was easy for me to take the kiddo and let her actually go to the bathroom by herself and do normal person things...:) It was hard to leave...it's always hard to leave...my best friend. My person. and now, you throw this cutie in there....makes it really tough.
My husband still won't commit to go get his LAST blood test...the one that sprung up on us recently with a $300 fee attached to it (no insurance will cover). I even emailed him yesterday during work to see if I could just set it up for him...because that's what it'll come down to if I want it to get done. He literally sent me back a one liner that said, "I'm not sure when I want to do it." That's it. I'm trying not to be pushy...but, seriously?!?! I'll have to bug him again tonight and remind him that he can do it any time he wants...not like the other tests where there was a specific window of opportunity. I'll have to time it right though, in order to get the response I need...I guess that means we'll have to hop in the sack and take care of business THEN bring it up!
I was able to spend time over the Memorial Day weekend with my best friend who now lives out of state. Her and her husband just had a baby and he's two months old now...we had always dreamed about growing up together, living on the same cul-de-sac, raising our children together just like we grew up. She lived next door to my grandparents so we have been attached at the hip since we were about 2 years old. We know each other better than anyone else...the good, the bad, the happy, the sad. We had big plans... but as you grow older and pursue your own life, dreams and goals...things change. We have never "Grown apart" but we have moved apart physically. She went to school in North Dakota and I went over to Duluth. She became a physical therapist and accepted a job offer in Arizona...I fell in love, got into sales and moved to the cities. We still were able to stay in touch and visit each other a couple times a year, both in AZ and MN. But, it's tough...then I found out all that great news about my infertility and realized that we would never live near each other and have our kids grow up together. I actually felt OK about it because she met the man of her dreams and got engaged but they planned to never have children. I know this is awful but it made me feel better. I didn't want her to raise a kid without me! Well, less than a year after they were married, she accidentally got pregnant....they got married, got pregnant, bought two dogs and a house, all in less than a year...while we sit here an struggle. I was truly happy for them, I really was...but, I remember the day she called to tell me about the news. I remember where I was, what I was doing, the time of day...I literally burst into tears in both joy and sadness. I immediately told her this reaction was not an indication of the news she just shared with me...I was extremely happy for her because I know having children was so important to her but a non-existent goal for her husband. But, I did have to explain to her why I was crying, why I was sad, why I was mad we wouldn't be able to raise our children together...she understood, but our relationship got put on hold...she told me she was nervous to tell me the news...and then after that, I didn't hear much from her until I literally confronted her. I had to call her and tell her not to worry about calling me and talking about the pregnancy, the baby, the movements, the changes. I had to reassure her that I would not burst into tears again because I was mad, jealous or sad. I told her I wanted to be a part of this even though my dreams have faded into memories. She expressed her concern, her empathy...she didn't want to make things worse for me but understood where I was coming from. From then on out, things were better...I visited AZ when she was "with child," she came home and we went out on the 4-wheelers roaming the forest. Things were back to normal.
When she had the baby, I was so excited...my number one goal was to get down there and visit, to help out as best as I could. Being a mom comes naturally...so it was easy for me to take the kiddo and let her actually go to the bathroom by herself and do normal person things...:) It was hard to leave...it's always hard to leave...my best friend. My person. and now, you throw this cutie in there....makes it really tough.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Blog Lovin'
Well, I'm trying to get the word out there about my story to see if others are going through the same thing or are having some similar issues. I just want people to know there is some hope and everything happens for a reason, the way it's supposed to happen...we can't control it.
Another blog I follow religiously is using Blog Lovin' so, I've decided to try it out :) If you're wondering about this post...I'm just trying to make it work. Soooo here goes! Please follow us and our story...click over here --------->
<a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/14033183/?claim=hfeccyb8w4a">Follow my blog with Bloglovin</a>
Another blog I follow religiously is using Blog Lovin' so, I've decided to try it out :) If you're wondering about this post...I'm just trying to make it work. Soooo here goes! Please follow us and our story...click over here --------->
<a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/14033183/?claim=hfeccyb8w4a">Follow my blog with Bloglovin</a>
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Another Test...
I got home from work yesterday to find my husband in the kitchen, chilling on the counter stool holding a piece of paper, reading it intensely. Then, all of a sudden, he just took this paper and chucked it across the table, like "WTF!?" I had no clue what was up and proceeded with caution...I asked him to explain what he was upset about and it turns out he got the mail, and in it was a letter from the Fertility Clinic. It was a personalized letter to him noting new developments in donor egg protocols. It basically told him that they now require screening for all male partners for recessive diseases to be sure that the egg donor and the male partner do not share any recessive mutations that would cause significant issues in offspring. I understand where they are coming from and appreciate the specific precautions they are taking...but, why didn't they know this earlier and why couldn't it have been taken care of when he was there recently for his other testing?
We sit here and wait for the next steps to happen in our journey to parenthood and receive this note...then they throw the price out there at us. Another $299.00 test that requires a blood sample (even though he was just there a couple weeks ago and paid a nice amount of money to get all the other tests done and also had to take time off work to make the trek to the inner city from our hometown)...frustrating. Of course, he made a big deal and huffed and puffed and threatened to "blow the house down." "I'm not going there again!" "What am I supposed to tell my boss?" "You know, I had to take time off work to go there last time!" "Another $300...come on!!!" "I'm not doing it."
Well, this struck a nerve with me...yea, it was another 300 bucks...but, they probably didn't know about it before and it was just a blood sample. He didn't have to get anything shoved up his vagina. He didn't have to whack off to some hot chick in a magazine (ok..I guess he'd probably enjoy that one again.) But, geesh. Was it really that big of a deal to say, "I'm done...not doing it." I got to the point where I was like, "Fine. Whatever. Stop being a baby. This is the least you have to do...so stop being such a whiny baby and grow up." Knock some sense into him! I think he got the picture and got over it...but, I'm sure I'm going to have to call. I'm going to have to set up the appointment. I'm going to have to figure out a time for him to go in and get all this done. But, I guess you do what you have to do? Time will tell.
We sit here and wait for the next steps to happen in our journey to parenthood and receive this note...then they throw the price out there at us. Another $299.00 test that requires a blood sample (even though he was just there a couple weeks ago and paid a nice amount of money to get all the other tests done and also had to take time off work to make the trek to the inner city from our hometown)...frustrating. Of course, he made a big deal and huffed and puffed and threatened to "blow the house down." "I'm not going there again!" "What am I supposed to tell my boss?" "You know, I had to take time off work to go there last time!" "Another $300...come on!!!" "I'm not doing it."
Well, this struck a nerve with me...yea, it was another 300 bucks...but, they probably didn't know about it before and it was just a blood sample. He didn't have to get anything shoved up his vagina. He didn't have to whack off to some hot chick in a magazine (ok..I guess he'd probably enjoy that one again.) But, geesh. Was it really that big of a deal to say, "I'm done...not doing it." I got to the point where I was like, "Fine. Whatever. Stop being a baby. This is the least you have to do...so stop being such a whiny baby and grow up." Knock some sense into him! I think he got the picture and got over it...but, I'm sure I'm going to have to call. I'm going to have to set up the appointment. I'm going to have to figure out a time for him to go in and get all this done. But, I guess you do what you have to do? Time will tell.
Thursday, May 14, 2015
SABOTEURS!!!!!!!!
Sometimes I just don't get it...or people. I just don't get people. Now, I might be overreacting today because I'm trying to eat healthy and have been a life long binger of food, sugar, liquor, carbs, chocolate, chips, pizza, cookies, pie, donuts...you name it and I could be going through withdrawals from not eating carbs, sugar, pizza, donuts, cookies, etc. But, still...I wish people would be a little more considerate. I mean, I'm trying to get pregnant, I'm on crazy hormones and I need to lose weight. So, STOP SABOTAGING ME!!!!!!!!!! (oh wait...no one actually knows any of these details...but, they should probably have ESP and be able to know what's going on in my life without me telling the world!)
For example, yesterday, I was doing so well with my new food routines...being prepared, cooked everything in advance, brought it all to work and did a little food art to make it look more appetizing than it was. Well, as I sit at my desk, some lug at work brings in a GIANORMOUS bag of Costco peanut M&M's. Now, you'd think this isn't a big deal...I mean, if he has them at his desk, eats them in his quiet little cube space and doesn't make a peep. Just chew, chew, chew...without a care in the world, not thinking of all the other people in the office that might want to claw his eyes out because he's eating fricken CHOCOLATE and I can't have any. But, anyway...no, he doesn't just stay in his personal space to eat his scrumptious candy...he has to put them right, smack dab in the middle of the WORLD to SHARE. I mean, I'm a great "sharer" but, come on...can't you tell by my crazy glares, stares and scowls that this is SO MEAN!!!!!!
Let me lay it out for you...we have a nice office, we actually just moved into a new building so everything is bright, shiny, and new. Everything is organized according to your department and smack dab in the middle, is a "high table." This area is suppppposed to be use for collaboration, impromptu meetings, etc. but, it is NOT used for these purposes. What it is used for is SHARING. So, I call it the "sharing table" and guess whose cube is right next to it? MINE!!!!!!!!!!!
Here's a picture, so you get the idea:
Again, you might be saying....not a big deal. But, this place is nuts. I didn't realize how much junk people eat and bring in to share. Good Lord. Anyways, these M&M's....Everyone was picking on me because I wouldn't eat them. One of my peeps actually starting THROWING THEM AT MY CUBE from the F'n SHARING TABLE. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? Can you say Saboteur?!?! Dumb.
But, anyway...made it through that hurdle without falling on my face...ya know, those track stars that hurdle jump during their runs? They get their foot caught and BAM, down they go, flat on that prickly running track...bruised and bleeding. Nope, not me...but, that was yesterday and now TODAY, it's someone's fricken birthday so they decide it's necessary to bring in these lovely DEVIL donuts and sit them on the SHARING TABLE. I mean....GEESH. I literally want to walk over there, take the boxes, throw them on the floor and stomp the crap out of them!!!!! They are literally staring at me..and when it's very quiet, I hear...."I'll get you, my pretty...and your little dog tooooo!" Cue Devil Donuts...and the Wicked Witch of the West.
For example, yesterday, I was doing so well with my new food routines...being prepared, cooked everything in advance, brought it all to work and did a little food art to make it look more appetizing than it was. Well, as I sit at my desk, some lug at work brings in a GIANORMOUS bag of Costco peanut M&M's. Now, you'd think this isn't a big deal...I mean, if he has them at his desk, eats them in his quiet little cube space and doesn't make a peep. Just chew, chew, chew...without a care in the world, not thinking of all the other people in the office that might want to claw his eyes out because he's eating fricken CHOCOLATE and I can't have any. But, anyway...no, he doesn't just stay in his personal space to eat his scrumptious candy...he has to put them right, smack dab in the middle of the WORLD to SHARE. I mean, I'm a great "sharer" but, come on...can't you tell by my crazy glares, stares and scowls that this is SO MEAN!!!!!!
Let me lay it out for you...we have a nice office, we actually just moved into a new building so everything is bright, shiny, and new. Everything is organized according to your department and smack dab in the middle, is a "high table." This area is suppppposed to be use for collaboration, impromptu meetings, etc. but, it is NOT used for these purposes. What it is used for is SHARING. So, I call it the "sharing table" and guess whose cube is right next to it? MINE!!!!!!!!!!!
Here's a picture, so you get the idea:
Again, you might be saying....not a big deal. But, this place is nuts. I didn't realize how much junk people eat and bring in to share. Good Lord. Anyways, these M&M's....Everyone was picking on me because I wouldn't eat them. One of my peeps actually starting THROWING THEM AT MY CUBE from the F'n SHARING TABLE. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? Can you say Saboteur?!?! Dumb.
But, anyway...made it through that hurdle without falling on my face...ya know, those track stars that hurdle jump during their runs? They get their foot caught and BAM, down they go, flat on that prickly running track...bruised and bleeding. Nope, not me...but, that was yesterday and now TODAY, it's someone's fricken birthday so they decide it's necessary to bring in these lovely DEVIL donuts and sit them on the SHARING TABLE. I mean....GEESH. I literally want to walk over there, take the boxes, throw them on the floor and stomp the crap out of them!!!!! They are literally staring at me..and when it's very quiet, I hear...."I'll get you, my pretty...and your little dog tooooo!" Cue Devil Donuts...and the Wicked Witch of the West.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Sitting Duck.
Have you heard of a "sitting duck?" If so, that's what I am right at this moment... a person who is extremely vulnerable, possibly out in the open and/or helpless in their current position. That's me.
I've been awaiting the test results from my blood work and I got the email today from the nurse with the update. All the tests came back good and in normal status -- my TSH levels were down from 5+ to 1.85! Completely normal. They also tested my antibodies...it was a super long word and I can't remember what they called those but, they were good too. The nurse informed me that Dr. C was very pleased with the results and said we're "sitting very well!" Of course, I started asking questions such as, "Is there a goal in mind?" "What's the next step?" "Do the levels need to get lower?"
They came back and basically said everything was perfect...they just wanted to levels to get in a "Normal" range...I need to continue on the Synthroid thyroid meds and the hormones until further notice. I'm a sitting duck. Just sitting here, waiting....vulnerable, out in the open and helpless. **Twiddling thumbs** Waiting....our lives, our next moves are all in the hands of the clinic. We're waiting for them to call us and tell us they have a donor match now. We're waiting for them to tell us, "Let's go!" We're waiting...You're probably thinking, "That's great news!" But, I was so used to getting bad news and now that we're getting some good news, I just want to get the ball rolling. I know they weren't going to do anything until they were sure my thyroid was in a normal, healthy range...apparently, it's extremely important to have your thyroid levels stable and in a certain range before getting pregnant...sorry that I don't know the specifics but....here we are. Almost all the pieces have fallen into place, except for my weight stuff...but, lets go!
I'm not sure if I mentioned this before...I'm pretty sure I haven't but one thing they recommended for me was to get in touch with an Accupuncturist. There are proven statistics that accupuncture helps with infertility so the individual I have been seeing specifically focuses on women's health and infertility and works with the clinic and their patients. She is also a friend of my "Family" Friend who works at the clinic :) We'll call her Ms. N. With infertility, there is hope, sadness, frustration, etc. you name it, it's there. It's so insanely important that while int he process of getting pregnant and having a child that your body as a whole is focused on and in a stable state. When you are more balanced, you are more likely to have success!
I've always been interested in holistic approaches and how they affect people and their lives. I started seeing Ms. N a while ago and now with the pieces falling into place, I've started visiting with Ms. N 3xmonth to get new points and fertility accupuncture in order to prepare my body in order to have a baby, to help with embyro transplantation, and to carry a baby full term. It's been a little crazy and every visit is different but so fulfilling and interesting! For example, I saw her today and got some new "points" aka needles in various spots...then I spend 30 minutes "meditating" and go from there! So very relaxing and I can already see changes in myself that are helping me grow and be more balance as a whole.
BUT, I'm still a sitting duck...doing what they say and waiting. My focus now continues to be on the weight. The lighter I get, the closer we are...or so I tell myself. Maybe they will just call one day and be like, "We have a match!" regardless of my weight?? Who knows.
Monday, May 11, 2015
Thyroid & Weight Loss
Well, I have a few updates...I was scheduled to go back into the clinic to get my thyroid levels checked out after being on meds for a little over a month. I went in on Thursday of last week, had a blood draw and that was that. Being my "family friend" works at the clinic, I was able to get a "behind the scenes" tour and meet a lot of the nursing staff, say "Hello!" to Dr. C and actually meet the coordinators who deal with the donors and are involved in the personal process of choosing donors for clients. It was nice to put a face with a name...but, I almost thought to myself, "You better pick a good one." If you're wondering, we don't just have to go on their word and pick the one they choose. They could give us multiple options or if the option they give us is not compliant to what we want, we can pass and wait for another. They basically give you all the details on what they feel is a "perfect" match and then we review and approve or decline.
But, anyways...figured I would get some results pretty quick on those TSH levels...but, I haven't heard a thing. I'm excited to know if something has changed...but, my body hasn't really felt any different. I emailed the nurse today that is my "SPC/Single point of contact" if I need anything specific....no answer, apparently she was sick today...so, I just wait. Love this waiting :P
Also, they reminded me last week that I really need to focus on my health and getting healthy...if I'm going to carry a baby in my body, I have to prepare the "vessel" and make it the best it can be. I guess this never really resonated with me...I mean, I've always had weight issues, I've always wanted to be thinner and more fit. But, now, this is a bigger deal...this is a hormonal issue, this is a weight issue, this is a health issue that is not only affecting me but it's affecting my unborn, future child. So, I'm taking it seriously...I'm not sure what "clicked" but today I was the first day of the rest of my life. The docs suggested the Whole30 program (www.whole30.com)...it's basically just eating clean, cutting out all sugar/carbs, dairy, grains for 30 days or more to "reset" your body and emotional relationship with food. It helps with chronic pain, obesity, emotional eating, PCOS/infertility....you name it and today is my Day 1. Super strict...apparently if you F'up, you have to start over again....soooo hopefully I can make it. I'm done with Day 1 and doing good :) Keep your fingers crossed...in order to get this baby, they want me down a good 20 lbs....
Friday, May 8, 2015
I cry.
I cry. Somedays I just have to sob. Somedays I'm just weepy and anything could trigger a tear. I'm not sure why...it could be because we're going through all these fertility issues. It could be because I have self esteem issues that I can't seem to get over. Or, it could just be because I need to cry. Some blame it on the hormones, but lets face it...there isn't many. Some days everything bothers me. Some days I just want to scream. Some days I just hate the world. I ask myself, Why? Why me? Why us? We've done so much RIGHT, why can't we have a bone thrown over here? I get jealous. I get jealous alot. I get mad, I get angry.
Going through this fertility stuff really makes me notice things I may not have noticed before...I'm so sensitive. Everything triggers a tear, an emotion, a reaction. I don't understand why some people, some families are burdened with so much sadness, loss, troubles and trials. It doesn't make sense...then the ones that are crap, the ones that don't care, the ones the do drugs, treat people badly, don't have a care in the world seem to get anything they want and need. It doesn't make sense. I'm not trying to make people feel bad, I just don't get it. Why is someone like me being punished...ever since I can remember, I wanted to be a mom. I had barbies and babydolls, I named them, I craddled them, I sang to them, I rocked them to sleep. All I ever dreamed of was having babies...but, nope. Not happening. I kicked cancer's butt to get this far in life, but now, I can't have babies. Dumb. So. DUMB.
I remember a while back, a cousin of mine was going through highschool and some tough times. Turns out, she got knocked up at 15 by some dude she was dating and had the kid when she was 16. She had not one care in the world. The labor was under 2 hours long, easy as the breeze. She kept telling people how easy it was and why she didn't know people complained about all the issues and troubles it was to get pregnant and have kids. I just wanted to punch her. I wanted to yell at her and tell her she was awful and didn't get it and took everything for granted. I was so angry, so upset, so jealous of her "easy luck." I literally could not be in her presence because I was afraid of lashing out on this little girl. Well, truth be told...a year later, she got knocked up again, by a new guy and started her second bought of having a kid the "easy way." Well, she popped this one out just as easy as the first....and rubbed it in everyone's face again. Even her poor sister who was also struggling to have kids with her husband...sad.
Again, not trying to be the bad guy here but it really sucks. Everytime you go online and see a "We're pregnant" annoucement, everytime you go to the store and walk past the baby aisle, everytime you go out and someone isn't drinking because they are prego. I just wish it could all be shut off....like if there was a huge master switch and when I don't want to see or hear that stuff, just flick it off. Buh-bye. Donezo. But, that's not how it works. So, I just cry.
Going through this fertility stuff really makes me notice things I may not have noticed before...I'm so sensitive. Everything triggers a tear, an emotion, a reaction. I don't understand why some people, some families are burdened with so much sadness, loss, troubles and trials. It doesn't make sense...then the ones that are crap, the ones that don't care, the ones the do drugs, treat people badly, don't have a care in the world seem to get anything they want and need. It doesn't make sense. I'm not trying to make people feel bad, I just don't get it. Why is someone like me being punished...ever since I can remember, I wanted to be a mom. I had barbies and babydolls, I named them, I craddled them, I sang to them, I rocked them to sleep. All I ever dreamed of was having babies...but, nope. Not happening. I kicked cancer's butt to get this far in life, but now, I can't have babies. Dumb. So. DUMB.
I remember a while back, a cousin of mine was going through highschool and some tough times. Turns out, she got knocked up at 15 by some dude she was dating and had the kid when she was 16. She had not one care in the world. The labor was under 2 hours long, easy as the breeze. She kept telling people how easy it was and why she didn't know people complained about all the issues and troubles it was to get pregnant and have kids. I just wanted to punch her. I wanted to yell at her and tell her she was awful and didn't get it and took everything for granted. I was so angry, so upset, so jealous of her "easy luck." I literally could not be in her presence because I was afraid of lashing out on this little girl. Well, truth be told...a year later, she got knocked up again, by a new guy and started her second bought of having a kid the "easy way." Well, she popped this one out just as easy as the first....and rubbed it in everyone's face again. Even her poor sister who was also struggling to have kids with her husband...sad.
Again, not trying to be the bad guy here but it really sucks. Everytime you go online and see a "We're pregnant" annoucement, everytime you go to the store and walk past the baby aisle, everytime you go out and someone isn't drinking because they are prego. I just wish it could all be shut off....like if there was a huge master switch and when I don't want to see or hear that stuff, just flick it off. Buh-bye. Donezo. But, that's not how it works. So, I just cry.
Thursday, May 7, 2015
Lovely Meds.
So, as you can tell, I'm new at this blog thing and I'm trying to get you guys caught up on what we've gone through and where we are today. Per the last post, we made it on the donor list and now we're on a new, fresh path. It's somewhat surreal because I was once on a list 11 years ago...waiting for a bone marrow donor to save my life from leukemia. Crazy to think, 11 years later, I'm on another donor list, waiting for a life changing miracle.
The nurses called me to get all set, I had to get put on birth control pills to start regulating my hormones and get onto a normal cycle. I would do this for 3 months while we wait for a donor. We also had to go in and get a bunch of tests done, both myself and my hubby. They said normally, people would wait 6-8 months to get a donor that matches the requirements of couples, so we needed to be patient. But, it bumps us up on the list if we get our pre-testing done as some couples on the list do not do this right away, therefore jeopardizing their chances of advances to the top.
Of course, we both went in and got things scheduled and taken care of right away. I had to go in for a practice embryo transfer and blood draw - they basically put me back in the stirrups and stuck the probe up inside my goods and looked at my uterus...wanted to make sure there were no cysts, issues, tumors...you name it. They also did a saline infused sonogram where they implanted saline in my uterus like an egg...everything went great. Dr. C said my lady parts were perfect and there were absolutely no issues. It wasn't the most pleasant, but it was a good feeling to hear that something "good" was an outcome. My hubby on the other hand, just had to go in and look at dirty magazines with beautiful, naked women and give a sperm sample for analysis...yup. That's it. He had to have a blood draw too just to make sure he didn't have STD's...wouldn't that have been a shocker?!?
I started taking the pills and my body hated them....I mean, I haven't had normal hormones for years and then poof, here you go! Here are a bunch of hormones...just deal with it. I felt fat, I had crazy mood swings, I wanted to eat everything in sight. I literally called the nurse and was like, "Is there anything else I can take? These meds are making me CRA-CRA!!!" She said no, of course...unfortunately, this is what we need you to take...this is what you have to take until you're ready to have a baby. I was so pissed. They told me to switch the time of day I was taking the pills to help with cravings and not eating everything in site. 10 additional pounds later, I was coping better and dealing with the situation...but, UGH.
A couple days later, we received the results of our tests....of course, hubby's came back perfect. 100% penetration, lots of swimmers. My ultrasound tests were great but the blood tests weren't. Apparently, on top of my ovarian hormonal issues...I also had a bunch of thyroid issues. So, now, they are also putting me on thyroid meds to get those hormones in a normal range... I actually was excited because I've always struggled with weight since I was a child and figured these hormones were playing a part. I asked if being put on these meds would help and the nurse said, possibly but it wasn't guaranteed...I still had to make good choices and exercise. They also told me it would be beneficial for me to lose a good 20 pounds before getting pregnant. TWENTY POUNDS!!!!!!!!! Are you kidding? I've been trying to fricken lose weight for a LONG TIME AND I CAN'T!!!!!!!!!!! I've tried every diet out there, every fad...nothing works, I have no self control of course, too. I mean, didn't you just see, I gained 10 fricken pounds just by being on those stupid birth control pills?!?!?! and P.S. what's the point of this BC pills when I can't get pregnant normally anyways!!!!????
Angry. Pissed. Disappointed.
So, now I'm trying to lose weight...I'm trying to regulate all these stupid hormones...I'm trying to get my thyroid into a normal zone....I've been on the birth control for 3 months already and need to go in and get my thyroid checked to see if the new meds they put me on are working...Good Lord.
We're Baaaack...and screening for a donor?
We're back...after our six month break, we're back. We were cleared to be put on the donor egg list and now we had to make some big decisions. Some more big decisions. You may be asking, what exactly are we doing with donor eggs or what the program is...truth be told. there are many instances where people have undergone early menopause, beat cancer and survived the therapy that went with it (like me), have diminished reproductive organs and can't produce viable eggs resulting in pregnancy. In many of these cases, people could choose to use eggs from someone else...known or unknown. If a couple elects to go this route, an egg donor is found/screened and once chosen, the donor would undergo an IVF cycle, her eggs would be fertilized by the patient's partner or sperm donor resulting in embryos that would be transferred to the patient. This is one of the most successful ART procedures available today if the eggs of young women are used.
We were given a packet of information full of financial details and had to complete our genetic screening recommendations for our donor. I never really thought we'd get to this point...I hoped. But, didn't think it would come to this. We sat down and went through the list....evaluating myself, my eyes and eye color, my hair and hair color, my skin and skin tone. Do we want our donor to have brown eyes? brown hair? olive colored skin? How tall should they be? How athletic? What kind of body? What kind of education? How did they grow up? What's their medical history? I never really thought I'd have the chance to play a part in all of this...and really, I ask myself, should I? It's not really my decision or my husband's decision on what characteristics our child should have, how they should look, etc. Whose decision was this? Definitely not ours. Are we chancing fate? This is God's decision...but, he brought us here, to this point, and we're just following the "path" regardless of where it leads us, good or bad. So, we wrote down our desires, what we thought would be the best choices...a calmness came over me when doing this because I thought to myself...maybe I'm saving my future son or daughter's life...being able to screen or not use my genetics may be helping our future child. Not because I don't appreciate and love my geneology, it's just that my family history isn't the most "Clean" - my brother has a severe syndrome called Pallister Killian Syndrom/PKS - it's an abnormality of a chromosome which induces him with siezures, being wheelchair bound and functioning like a 6 month old baby even though he's now, almost 25 years old. He can not walk or talk, he can not communicate with people normally, other than crying or moaning if there is an issue. This is a genetic malformity that hasn't had much research...we don't know if it could be passed on, generation to generation. Also, my mother is a breast cancer survivor...it is not shown to be a link in our family but, with her having it, I'm now at risk along with her sisters. My grandmother has had heart issues and has had two surgeries recently to help prolong her life and sustain her life-giving muscle...by using a donor egg, we would be eliminating all of these possibilities from occuring in our future child.
My husband of course is perfect...and so is his family. He's never had a cavity, never broken a bone...never had to have braces, always had straight A's. Yes, he's quiet. Yes, he doesn't like to talk in front of people or it's hard for him to come out of his shell. But, he is good and he is healthy. So, I want his genes to get passed along for years, decades, generations! Back in the day....he would've been a king and I probably wouldn't have made it very long...but, anyway...I digress.
We filled out the papers...we turned them into the clinic and Dr. J turned in her "approval" as well...we had to have professional, up close pictures taken so the clinic could start to find our match, our egg...the one the looked most like me. That represented me in the best way possible. Are you wondering why we aren't picking out our own donor? Some clinics allow this...some allow you to pick out your own donor, to see their faces, and pair that with their medical histories. But, some don't and I actually prefer that...I'm do not think I would like to know who is giving me their eggs to make MY baby...I don't want to know the person, I don't want to see them. I don't want to invision my husband's sperm fertilizing their egg. I just don't. It'd be too personal. I want distance, I don't want to know her. I just want to thank her.
We were given a packet of information full of financial details and had to complete our genetic screening recommendations for our donor. I never really thought we'd get to this point...I hoped. But, didn't think it would come to this. We sat down and went through the list....evaluating myself, my eyes and eye color, my hair and hair color, my skin and skin tone. Do we want our donor to have brown eyes? brown hair? olive colored skin? How tall should they be? How athletic? What kind of body? What kind of education? How did they grow up? What's their medical history? I never really thought I'd have the chance to play a part in all of this...and really, I ask myself, should I? It's not really my decision or my husband's decision on what characteristics our child should have, how they should look, etc. Whose decision was this? Definitely not ours. Are we chancing fate? This is God's decision...but, he brought us here, to this point, and we're just following the "path" regardless of where it leads us, good or bad. So, we wrote down our desires, what we thought would be the best choices...a calmness came over me when doing this because I thought to myself...maybe I'm saving my future son or daughter's life...being able to screen or not use my genetics may be helping our future child. Not because I don't appreciate and love my geneology, it's just that my family history isn't the most "Clean" - my brother has a severe syndrome called Pallister Killian Syndrom/PKS - it's an abnormality of a chromosome which induces him with siezures, being wheelchair bound and functioning like a 6 month old baby even though he's now, almost 25 years old. He can not walk or talk, he can not communicate with people normally, other than crying or moaning if there is an issue. This is a genetic malformity that hasn't had much research...we don't know if it could be passed on, generation to generation. Also, my mother is a breast cancer survivor...it is not shown to be a link in our family but, with her having it, I'm now at risk along with her sisters. My grandmother has had heart issues and has had two surgeries recently to help prolong her life and sustain her life-giving muscle...by using a donor egg, we would be eliminating all of these possibilities from occuring in our future child.
My husband of course is perfect...and so is his family. He's never had a cavity, never broken a bone...never had to have braces, always had straight A's. Yes, he's quiet. Yes, he doesn't like to talk in front of people or it's hard for him to come out of his shell. But, he is good and he is healthy. So, I want his genes to get passed along for years, decades, generations! Back in the day....he would've been a king and I probably wouldn't have made it very long...but, anyway...I digress.
We filled out the papers...we turned them into the clinic and Dr. J turned in her "approval" as well...we had to have professional, up close pictures taken so the clinic could start to find our match, our egg...the one the looked most like me. That represented me in the best way possible. Are you wondering why we aren't picking out our own donor? Some clinics allow this...some allow you to pick out your own donor, to see their faces, and pair that with their medical histories. But, some don't and I actually prefer that...I'm do not think I would like to know who is giving me their eggs to make MY baby...I don't want to know the person, I don't want to see them. I don't want to invision my husband's sperm fertilizing their egg. I just don't. It'd be too personal. I want distance, I don't want to know her. I just want to thank her.
A Little Hitch in the Giddy Up
After finding out my uterus was working, it was normal, it could build a lining and shed it like any normal person...I was excited. I was pumped. We sat with the doctor afterwards in awe...in shock. We had no clue this would work, let alone give us options. The doctor basically told us that because of the uterus results, we could move forward with having children. The only catch was being my ovaries didn't work or were not viable, we would need to use a donor egg with my husband's sperm. Was this a hard one to swallow? Yes. But, having the ability to carry a child, grow it with my own body and blood, and still have it be a part of me was huge. I do admit, it took a long time for me to even grasp that I was not able to have children of my own, ever. A good 8 or 9 years, I'd say. It was hard to think that I wouldn't be able to have a daughter that looked like me, just like my mom and I. No one would come up to me and say, "She must be yours, you like so similar!" I'd cry and cry and cry. It was hard for me to think that my husband would never have a son to teach and play sports with. It was super hard to never be able to know what my husband's genetic makeup and mine, together, would be like. Hard. But, now, we were stunned...we didn't really know what to do. The doc asked what are thoughts were and what we talked about for children in our marriage...we honestly said, "we don't know." We just always knew kids weren't an option, so it was never talked about it.
To get to the chase, I was ecstatic and my husband was freaked. I mean FREAKED out. It completely deflated my happy balloon within seconds. It was odd, he's usually so calm and level headed but this was really tough on him. It was almost easier for him to cope with not having kids then dealing with the ability to have kids but not have them with my genetic makeup. This opened up a whole new can of worms...he talked about IF he was going to have kids, he didn't want them until he was 30. Then he was upset because using someone else's eggs meant he was cheating on me and having sex with someone else. I told him he was really thinking too literally and that's when the doctor told us we needed to go in a talk with the psychologist. Dr. J. She would help us get to the next step...the next part of our lives and move forward. Because, in order to use a donor egg, you had to go through a psychological screening and process to let the clinic know you were ready and then get on a list and then give away thousands of dollars and then, and then and then...NO MORE "AND THEN!"
So, we started to see Dr. J. I have to admit, she was odd. But, my husband meshed well with her. She was one of those docs that was very...whimsical but yet, upfront and a little brash. But, she got my hubby to open up and that's hard for engineers...not sure if any of you are married to one or know one, but, they like their own little bubbles and think in a very yes/no kind of way...or at least mine does. After meeting with Dr. J a few times, I realized that I was 100% ready to move forward in this process but my husband wasn't. He never had the opportunity to cope, to grieve, to be angry, to get mad. I had. I did that for the past 8 years. I had to come to terms with letting him deal...giving him his space and time, not pushing the issues and getting the ball rolling. It was hard. Super hard. He told me how sad he was that he wouldn't be able to see me in our children. He was upset that our kids wouldn't have my laugh, my eyes, my characteristics. It brought me to tears. But, the good thing was that Dr. J smiled when he said these things and reassured us that the majority of what he's explaining...the laugher, the personality, the joy of life...those were all nurture...those were all learned behaviors that children get as they grow from their parents, grandparents, friends, etc.
After a couple meetings with the therapist, hubby and I got home and had a really bad blowout. I mean, a big one. We hardly ever fight, let alone have blowouts...if there is an issue, we usually can talk it out right away and get over it, move forward. Well, this time was different....Hubby was just stuck. His mind, his heart....everything was just sinking in quick sand. Everything we've tried so hard for, we've worked so hard for went down the shitter. He wanted to be done. He wanted to find a different way. He didn't want to use donor eggs. He wanted to believe there was hope elsewhere and a miracle would one day make my ovaries work and we'd have our own biological children. He was done. Done. There were tears, yelling, swearing...you name it. I've never been so angry...I wanted to set the house on fire. I wanted to run. I literally told him, "If you don't want to do this...I will do it on my own, without you." After that, things cooled down a little....we let everything rest. I told myself I need to let him grieve, let him cope...I needed to back off and just let him deal. So, we made up...we went to bed and I dropped it. We stopped going to counseling/therapy/psych sessions. We stopped talking about it. We stopped talking about kids. We started planning trips. I never brought anything up, ever...a month went by, then 2 months....3, 4, 5....6 months later and here we are, happy, hormone-less, no crazy moodswings or cycles. Life was good...but empty without a family. Oh, and we got a new dog.
So, I decided to bring it up...of course, in a non-chalant kind of way..."Wanna go see Dr. J again?" and he said, "Sure." So, we scheduled the appointment, we went to talk to Dr. J...and she cleared us. She said we were ready. She said Hubby was ready. She wanted to get us on the list. She wanted us to start the process, to get a family. Whoa...
To get to the chase, I was ecstatic and my husband was freaked. I mean FREAKED out. It completely deflated my happy balloon within seconds. It was odd, he's usually so calm and level headed but this was really tough on him. It was almost easier for him to cope with not having kids then dealing with the ability to have kids but not have them with my genetic makeup. This opened up a whole new can of worms...he talked about IF he was going to have kids, he didn't want them until he was 30. Then he was upset because using someone else's eggs meant he was cheating on me and having sex with someone else. I told him he was really thinking too literally and that's when the doctor told us we needed to go in a talk with the psychologist. Dr. J. She would help us get to the next step...the next part of our lives and move forward. Because, in order to use a donor egg, you had to go through a psychological screening and process to let the clinic know you were ready and then get on a list and then give away thousands of dollars and then, and then and then...NO MORE "AND THEN!"
So, we started to see Dr. J. I have to admit, she was odd. But, my husband meshed well with her. She was one of those docs that was very...whimsical but yet, upfront and a little brash. But, she got my hubby to open up and that's hard for engineers...not sure if any of you are married to one or know one, but, they like their own little bubbles and think in a very yes/no kind of way...or at least mine does. After meeting with Dr. J a few times, I realized that I was 100% ready to move forward in this process but my husband wasn't. He never had the opportunity to cope, to grieve, to be angry, to get mad. I had. I did that for the past 8 years. I had to come to terms with letting him deal...giving him his space and time, not pushing the issues and getting the ball rolling. It was hard. Super hard. He told me how sad he was that he wouldn't be able to see me in our children. He was upset that our kids wouldn't have my laugh, my eyes, my characteristics. It brought me to tears. But, the good thing was that Dr. J smiled when he said these things and reassured us that the majority of what he's explaining...the laugher, the personality, the joy of life...those were all nurture...those were all learned behaviors that children get as they grow from their parents, grandparents, friends, etc.
After a couple meetings with the therapist, hubby and I got home and had a really bad blowout. I mean, a big one. We hardly ever fight, let alone have blowouts...if there is an issue, we usually can talk it out right away and get over it, move forward. Well, this time was different....Hubby was just stuck. His mind, his heart....everything was just sinking in quick sand. Everything we've tried so hard for, we've worked so hard for went down the shitter. He wanted to be done. He wanted to find a different way. He didn't want to use donor eggs. He wanted to believe there was hope elsewhere and a miracle would one day make my ovaries work and we'd have our own biological children. He was done. Done. There were tears, yelling, swearing...you name it. I've never been so angry...I wanted to set the house on fire. I wanted to run. I literally told him, "If you don't want to do this...I will do it on my own, without you." After that, things cooled down a little....we let everything rest. I told myself I need to let him grieve, let him cope...I needed to back off and just let him deal. So, we made up...we went to bed and I dropped it. We stopped going to counseling/therapy/psych sessions. We stopped talking about it. We stopped talking about kids. We started planning trips. I never brought anything up, ever...a month went by, then 2 months....3, 4, 5....6 months later and here we are, happy, hormone-less, no crazy moodswings or cycles. Life was good...but empty without a family. Oh, and we got a new dog.
So, I decided to bring it up...of course, in a non-chalant kind of way..."Wanna go see Dr. J again?" and he said, "Sure." So, we scheduled the appointment, we went to talk to Dr. J...and she cleared us. She said we were ready. She said Hubby was ready. She wanted to get us on the list. She wanted us to start the process, to get a family. Whoa...
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
3 months later...
...so, I pay the outrageous price for the Estrace (after insurance, mind you) and I start taking the pills. I am on for 20+ days and then I stop taking the pills and have a "period." Then, I get back on the pills and do it all again, for another two months. When we found out how expensive this medicine was, we asked if there was an alternative...and apparently, they wanted me to NOT use a generic brand because it didn't produce the same results. To get the BEST results, we had to pay the BEST price...or worst price. Keep in mind, my body has an insane imbalance in hormones since my ovaries don't work properly and since my cancer treatment. This Estrace is supposed to build up my uterine lining to see if all is working correctly and gauge whether or not I'd be able to carry a baby.
Note, I haven't had a "normal" period since 2006...two years after my bone marrow transplant. I was basically a non-bleeder and it was magnificent...to me. But, I was young and didn't realize the awful impact not having a cycle played on my body. I didn't know there were hormone issues, I didn't know that I should be taking replacement hormones, I didn't know that it would have long-term effects on my body 10, 20, 30 years down the road. No, no one told me that...the lovely people who told me I was infertile and to go on living, told me nothing.
But, I digress...I got on the Estrace and my body actually liked it. I felt better, I felt like I was more whole than normal...I had a normal period. Not a crazy, I'm cramping and wanting to kill someone period. But, just a normal, I'm flowing type...it was pretty easy. People even came up to me and asked what I was doing because I looked good and like I WAS LOSING WEIGHT?!?! Crazy...Let's step over into the conversation for a second... WEIGHT. Weight has been an issue for me my whole life. Since I was a kid, I always wanted Twinkies and Sunkist...when my parents got divorced, I was a 10-year old fatty who was pushed to Grandma and Grandpa's house for comfort and pizza. That grew with me along with my waistline through grade school and into high school. I started sports and then I got "athletic" -- I wasn't fat, my dad just said I had a lot of muscle and was "big boned." Isn't that nice to hear when you're 15 years old..."Oh, you're just big, boned..." NOT OK. But, it really wasn't too bad...then I got sick with AML...my weight fluctuated, it went up and it went down. I went into the hospital at 145lbs, got up to 180...then after my transplant, dropped 60lbs in under 3 months...then my body freaked out...I couldn't eat anything without throwing up (as a side effect of all the treatment, they said?) and got down to 104lbs...which is WAY TOO SMALL for someone who is 5'4". Then, when things got better, I gradually was able to introduce food back into my diet and put on weight...I went from 104, to 115, to 125 (which felt perfect for my frame)...but, of course, I couldn't stop...I kept gaining...kept going up and up and up. Now, 10 years later...my body hates me and I'm almost back to my "Fat cancer" weight. Ughhh....I've never really been able to lose weight the right way or gain any of my "muscle" back that I lost with all these ups and downs. Ish -- I'll get back to this later on in this wonderful story :)
The doctor said if Estrace worked and it did help me build up a lining, the goal was to have it be anywhere from 6mm to 8mm in order for us to have "options." So, I was scheduled to go back into the clinic and do another one of those transvaginal tests to take a peek at my uterus to see what the verdict was. I was nervous...I was shaking. I really wasn't until I got to the clinic, went back into the dark ultrasound room, took off my pants and put my feet in the stirrups. "This was it...if this doesn't work, we're done. There are no other options." All I could hope for was the best and G-Damnit, I needed some good news for once. The tech came in, did the tests, made little marks on her computer, clicked this and clicked that. Then, she just burst out...like a squeal. It was very frightening because I had no clue what was going on..."are you ok??" Good Lord. Then, she just yelled..."THEY TOLD ME IF IT WAS GOOD NEWS I COULD TELL YOU RIGHT AWAY AND IT'S GOOD NEWS!" Before she even went any further, I just burst into tears...the probe was still stuck up inside of me, I was convulsing on the table while the lady was screaming at me. AND I didn't even know what was going on....She told me that my lining was at 7.2mm. They wanted it to be above 6mm and I was at 7.2mm, 7.2MM!!!!!!
Note, I haven't had a "normal" period since 2006...two years after my bone marrow transplant. I was basically a non-bleeder and it was magnificent...to me. But, I was young and didn't realize the awful impact not having a cycle played on my body. I didn't know there were hormone issues, I didn't know that I should be taking replacement hormones, I didn't know that it would have long-term effects on my body 10, 20, 30 years down the road. No, no one told me that...the lovely people who told me I was infertile and to go on living, told me nothing.
But, I digress...I got on the Estrace and my body actually liked it. I felt better, I felt like I was more whole than normal...I had a normal period. Not a crazy, I'm cramping and wanting to kill someone period. But, just a normal, I'm flowing type...it was pretty easy. People even came up to me and asked what I was doing because I looked good and like I WAS LOSING WEIGHT?!?! Crazy...Let's step over into the conversation for a second... WEIGHT. Weight has been an issue for me my whole life. Since I was a kid, I always wanted Twinkies and Sunkist...when my parents got divorced, I was a 10-year old fatty who was pushed to Grandma and Grandpa's house for comfort and pizza. That grew with me along with my waistline through grade school and into high school. I started sports and then I got "athletic" -- I wasn't fat, my dad just said I had a lot of muscle and was "big boned." Isn't that nice to hear when you're 15 years old..."Oh, you're just big, boned..." NOT OK. But, it really wasn't too bad...then I got sick with AML...my weight fluctuated, it went up and it went down. I went into the hospital at 145lbs, got up to 180...then after my transplant, dropped 60lbs in under 3 months...then my body freaked out...I couldn't eat anything without throwing up (as a side effect of all the treatment, they said?) and got down to 104lbs...which is WAY TOO SMALL for someone who is 5'4". Then, when things got better, I gradually was able to introduce food back into my diet and put on weight...I went from 104, to 115, to 125 (which felt perfect for my frame)...but, of course, I couldn't stop...I kept gaining...kept going up and up and up. Now, 10 years later...my body hates me and I'm almost back to my "Fat cancer" weight. Ughhh....I've never really been able to lose weight the right way or gain any of my "muscle" back that I lost with all these ups and downs. Ish -- I'll get back to this later on in this wonderful story :)
The doctor said if Estrace worked and it did help me build up a lining, the goal was to have it be anywhere from 6mm to 8mm in order for us to have "options." So, I was scheduled to go back into the clinic and do another one of those transvaginal tests to take a peek at my uterus to see what the verdict was. I was nervous...I was shaking. I really wasn't until I got to the clinic, went back into the dark ultrasound room, took off my pants and put my feet in the stirrups. "This was it...if this doesn't work, we're done. There are no other options." All I could hope for was the best and G-Damnit, I needed some good news for once. The tech came in, did the tests, made little marks on her computer, clicked this and clicked that. Then, she just burst out...like a squeal. It was very frightening because I had no clue what was going on..."are you ok??" Good Lord. Then, she just yelled..."THEY TOLD ME IF IT WAS GOOD NEWS I COULD TELL YOU RIGHT AWAY AND IT'S GOOD NEWS!" Before she even went any further, I just burst into tears...the probe was still stuck up inside of me, I was convulsing on the table while the lady was screaming at me. AND I didn't even know what was going on....She told me that my lining was at 7.2mm. They wanted it to be above 6mm and I was at 7.2mm, 7.2MM!!!!!!
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Our First Time...
No, this post isn't about what you're thinking...this is about "Our First Time" visiting with the fertility clinic and doctors. In getting to this place in our lives, you know we've had many "first times." ;) But, if you read the post before, we have a very close "family" friend who has been working at the fertility clinic for a couple years and encouraged us to go in and meet with the best doctor they have...we'll call him, Dr. C. We got things set up and it turned out that our first time meeting with Dr. C. was the day after my 10 year Cancer-free, re-birthday. How crazy is this? I celebrate being 10 years cancer-free and the next day, we step foot, forward, in a new direction and new life.
I'm one of those people who believes everything happens for a reason and throughout my life, since I got sick...I've been holding back and scared to live my life. Afraid to make big decisions, living scared wondering "What if?" - thinking, "Well, I worked this hard to get this far...so why jeopardize my safety?" I kept telling myself that I need to make it past 1 year post transplant, then 5 years post transplant, then 7, 8, 9...but, now, we hit 10 years. TEN YEARS. CANCER-FREE. It's time to move on. It's time to pull myself up by the bootstraps and move the FRICK on. I don't need to forget what happened or take it for granted. I need to be aware and thankful on a daily basis but MOVE ON. Live my life. How CRAZY is it that I can finally stop looking behind and thinking of all the things that happened, that hindered my life and step forward into Dr. C's office for the next phase in my life?!?!
So, my husband and I went to our first appointment with Dr. C....we drove downtown during our lunches from work, parked in the parking ramp, and took the elevator to the 4th floor of this multi-business clinic facility to get checked in. I was nervous, my heart was beating outside of my chest. I was emotional beyond belief, thinking all these years that I would never have options and knowing that there may be some options available...honestly, scared me.
We stood in line, then stepped up to the plate when it was our turn. And, you guessed it, while she was asking our names and when our appointment was, I burst into tears. Not the dripping, no one can really tell I'm crying tears, but the SOBBING tears. The I'm REALLY crying tears. The everyone can hear you tears. The I must have lost a leg because I'm crying so hard snot is running from my nose and I'm starting to gag. My poor husband...he is standing there trying to soothe me. The poor receptionist...she is trying my make me feel better by saying, "Oh, this happens all the time..." MAN. I took a breather, gathered myself and then we got to it. Checked in. Fill out paperwork. You're good to go. OH, NO wait....they had to take our PICTURES!!!?!?!?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? Did you not just see me sobbing, snotting and gagging about 2 minutes ago? NOT COOL.
After sitting in the waiting room for a little while, the doctor actually came back and called us into his office. It was a room fit for a king...it reminded me of the library from Beauty and the Beast...book shelves from the floor to the ceiling, a huge mahogany desk and this high back chairs with red fluffy cushions. It was all very inviting and comfortable. We sat down and talked the talk. Dr. C. wasn't too happy go lucky...very "let's get to business." Almost like he didn't know our story or what was going on so he had to be firm and concise to ensure that he didn't give us any false hope.
The first step was to talk through our/my history -- let's face it. My husband is perfect. He has never had a cavity, has never broken a bone, he never had to have braces, he grew up in a perfect little family in the suburbs. Never gets sick, never gets angry or scared. He has it all. If it was back in the era of Medieval times, he'd be a king and I'd be dead. This infertility stuff is all my fault. I'm the broken one. I'm the one with the issues...But, anyways...they did a transvaginal ultrasound to take a look at my ovaries and did blood tests to see where all my levels were at. Before Dr. C. could confirm what we've been told years before, he had to see it all for himself.
We got back to his office and he went through the results with us...the ultrasound showed that my ovaries were "Quiet." Basically, meaning they could not find a thing....due to the treatment I had while dealing with the cancer stuff, my ovaries were basically fried up and no longer viable/existent. Also, my blood tests came back and all the counts that were supposed to be low were high (BAD SIGN). So, he put it out there...there was less than a 1% chance I would ever be able to have a genetically related child. Even if my ovaries were able to produce eggs, the likelihood of them being viable or even OK to use was so low, it was barely a possibility. You'd think we would be in shock...but, we weren't. We knew this was happening, we knew there weren't any options... I was getting mad because WHY did we come in and go through this all again?? I mean, come on...we already knew this. I'm sure at this point, Dr. C could see it in our eyes..."Now what?" Do we just leave and go on doing what we've done? Do we actually have to pay for this appointment? Why are we still here?
Thinking he was about to let us go and say, Hasta Luego! He started talking about all this other stuff... I mean, stuff about us still having a child, carrying a baby, going through all the processes...and my husband and I were like...."HOLD THE PHONE. WHAT!?" Dr. C. said just because I don't have viable eggs, doesn't mean we can't have kids and start our family. Based on the ultrasound that was completed, my uterus was in tip top condition and Dr. C. wanted to do a 3 month trial to see if it would respond to medications to help grow the lining. Also, he wanted us to start meeting with the clinic psychologist to go some emotional help to "talk about what's happening." Plus, everyone who does anything with their clinic as to go to the psych. So...he got us all set up...gave me some spendy prescriptions and we started out journey down the path of "Does my uterus still work?"
I'm one of those people who believes everything happens for a reason and throughout my life, since I got sick...I've been holding back and scared to live my life. Afraid to make big decisions, living scared wondering "What if?" - thinking, "Well, I worked this hard to get this far...so why jeopardize my safety?" I kept telling myself that I need to make it past 1 year post transplant, then 5 years post transplant, then 7, 8, 9...but, now, we hit 10 years. TEN YEARS. CANCER-FREE. It's time to move on. It's time to pull myself up by the bootstraps and move the FRICK on. I don't need to forget what happened or take it for granted. I need to be aware and thankful on a daily basis but MOVE ON. Live my life. How CRAZY is it that I can finally stop looking behind and thinking of all the things that happened, that hindered my life and step forward into Dr. C's office for the next phase in my life?!?!
So, my husband and I went to our first appointment with Dr. C....we drove downtown during our lunches from work, parked in the parking ramp, and took the elevator to the 4th floor of this multi-business clinic facility to get checked in. I was nervous, my heart was beating outside of my chest. I was emotional beyond belief, thinking all these years that I would never have options and knowing that there may be some options available...honestly, scared me.
We stood in line, then stepped up to the plate when it was our turn. And, you guessed it, while she was asking our names and when our appointment was, I burst into tears. Not the dripping, no one can really tell I'm crying tears, but the SOBBING tears. The I'm REALLY crying tears. The everyone can hear you tears. The I must have lost a leg because I'm crying so hard snot is running from my nose and I'm starting to gag. My poor husband...he is standing there trying to soothe me. The poor receptionist...she is trying my make me feel better by saying, "Oh, this happens all the time..." MAN. I took a breather, gathered myself and then we got to it. Checked in. Fill out paperwork. You're good to go. OH, NO wait....they had to take our PICTURES!!!?!?!?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? Did you not just see me sobbing, snotting and gagging about 2 minutes ago? NOT COOL.
After sitting in the waiting room for a little while, the doctor actually came back and called us into his office. It was a room fit for a king...it reminded me of the library from Beauty and the Beast...book shelves from the floor to the ceiling, a huge mahogany desk and this high back chairs with red fluffy cushions. It was all very inviting and comfortable. We sat down and talked the talk. Dr. C. wasn't too happy go lucky...very "let's get to business." Almost like he didn't know our story or what was going on so he had to be firm and concise to ensure that he didn't give us any false hope.
The first step was to talk through our/my history -- let's face it. My husband is perfect. He has never had a cavity, has never broken a bone, he never had to have braces, he grew up in a perfect little family in the suburbs. Never gets sick, never gets angry or scared. He has it all. If it was back in the era of Medieval times, he'd be a king and I'd be dead. This infertility stuff is all my fault. I'm the broken one. I'm the one with the issues...But, anyways...they did a transvaginal ultrasound to take a look at my ovaries and did blood tests to see where all my levels were at. Before Dr. C. could confirm what we've been told years before, he had to see it all for himself.
We got back to his office and he went through the results with us...the ultrasound showed that my ovaries were "Quiet." Basically, meaning they could not find a thing....due to the treatment I had while dealing with the cancer stuff, my ovaries were basically fried up and no longer viable/existent. Also, my blood tests came back and all the counts that were supposed to be low were high (BAD SIGN). So, he put it out there...there was less than a 1% chance I would ever be able to have a genetically related child. Even if my ovaries were able to produce eggs, the likelihood of them being viable or even OK to use was so low, it was barely a possibility. You'd think we would be in shock...but, we weren't. We knew this was happening, we knew there weren't any options... I was getting mad because WHY did we come in and go through this all again?? I mean, come on...we already knew this. I'm sure at this point, Dr. C could see it in our eyes..."Now what?" Do we just leave and go on doing what we've done? Do we actually have to pay for this appointment? Why are we still here?
Thinking he was about to let us go and say, Hasta Luego! He started talking about all this other stuff... I mean, stuff about us still having a child, carrying a baby, going through all the processes...and my husband and I were like...."HOLD THE PHONE. WHAT!?" Dr. C. said just because I don't have viable eggs, doesn't mean we can't have kids and start our family. Based on the ultrasound that was completed, my uterus was in tip top condition and Dr. C. wanted to do a 3 month trial to see if it would respond to medications to help grow the lining. Also, he wanted us to start meeting with the clinic psychologist to go some emotional help to "talk about what's happening." Plus, everyone who does anything with their clinic as to go to the psych. So...he got us all set up...gave me some spendy prescriptions and we started out journey down the path of "Does my uterus still work?"
Monday, May 4, 2015
Babies...OK!?
After my bout with cancer, I decided to go to college...nothing was going to hold me down...I was meant for more...if I could kick cancer's ass, I could change the world. They didn't think I'd be able to walk for some time after being hospitalized for two years, let alone go to college....4 hours away from home, away from my family, away from my security, away from the hospital...but, I did it and flew the nest.
That year, I met my future husband...I basically stalked him. I know...funny, right? It was freshman year, I was in a huge lecture hall with hundreds of students and this darn boy stuck out like a sore thumb. He had this bright blue shirt on and I tried to get the courage to introduce myself to him...but, it never happened...so, the next semester, I started my new classes and never thought I'd see him again...and he was sitting RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. So, I'd watch him...I'd follow him. I knew where he lived in the dorms, I knew the people he hung out with, I saw where he ate, the sports he played...yea, kind of creepy.
One day, I finally stopped kicking his chair and walked up to him, tapped him on the shoulder and introduced myself. The rest was history...he found me on Facebook, we started eating together, sitting together during class, hanging out after class...fast forward 10 years... and we've been married for almost 3 years, have a house in the suburbs, drive a Cadillac, have two dogs, have stable and fulfilling job...but, unlike all of our friends, we don't have babies...we don't have a "family," we don't have the joys of many shoes by the door, of Christmas's waiting for Santa and Easter's searching for eggs...we have a hole in our hearts, or I do at least.
We are always asked, so when will you be having babies? Or why are you waiting? Or how come you don't have kids yet? Or all your friends have kids, why don't you? All I want to say is, BUTTTT OUT. But, I just put on my smiley face and say, "Oh...we're not ready." Or "We want to get some traveling in." Or "We like our alone time." Or DUMB EXCUSES except for the REAL reason. My husband and I went into our relationship knowing that we weren't going to have kids or be able to have kids. With my medical history, I threw it out there right away when we started dating...I said, "Hun, before you start to love me, you need to know that I may not EVER be able to have children, is that OK? Because if it isn't get out of my life and never look back."
He turned to me and said, "I would never NOT be with you because you aren't able to have children. I love you for you regardless of what comes with and I'm hear to get through anything with you as long as I have you." (**TEARS)
Well folks...that sealed the deal. 7 years later he proposed on the beaches of Maui and a year after that we were married. After a couple years of marriage, all was well, but I had still had that hole in my heart...I wanted a family, I wanted kids, I wanted to me a mom. We never really knew how this would happen or IF it would happen because I was told in 2007 by an awful doctor with NO bedside manner that I was infertile and would need to be put on birth control for the rest of my life to regulate my hormones. No explanations, just a phone call with bone chilling news and click. It was over. I remember dropping to my knees in the kitchen of the one bedroom apartment, sobbing until I was puking...who calls a 23 year old and tells them this in the way he did? ASS HOLE.
As most of you know, life goes on...and it did...but, one day I received a call from a "friend", a very close friend with another great story of how she was placed in my life (again...another day and time and we can get through that one). She said she was moving to the city because she got a new job...at a fertility clinic only 30 minutes from our house. She let me know that she decided to make the move because of.....ME. My story. My life. My hurdles. My struggles. She wanted to help people like me...those dealing with infertility, those with crazy medical backgrounds affecting their yearning for a family, those who have unexplained infertility...you name it. I was speechless. I couldn't believe it. After she had been working there a couple years, she reached out to us and said we should really stop by and visit with the team of highly accomplished professionals. She said they may have ideas or ways of getting around what they told me years ago and helping us create the family we have always wanted....
So, now...a new door had opened WAY at the end of the tunnel...we thought it was completely closed. But, there was this tiny ray of light visible...and why not check it out? Babies...OK!
That year, I met my future husband...I basically stalked him. I know...funny, right? It was freshman year, I was in a huge lecture hall with hundreds of students and this darn boy stuck out like a sore thumb. He had this bright blue shirt on and I tried to get the courage to introduce myself to him...but, it never happened...so, the next semester, I started my new classes and never thought I'd see him again...and he was sitting RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. So, I'd watch him...I'd follow him. I knew where he lived in the dorms, I knew the people he hung out with, I saw where he ate, the sports he played...yea, kind of creepy.
One day, I finally stopped kicking his chair and walked up to him, tapped him on the shoulder and introduced myself. The rest was history...he found me on Facebook, we started eating together, sitting together during class, hanging out after class...fast forward 10 years... and we've been married for almost 3 years, have a house in the suburbs, drive a Cadillac, have two dogs, have stable and fulfilling job...but, unlike all of our friends, we don't have babies...we don't have a "family," we don't have the joys of many shoes by the door, of Christmas's waiting for Santa and Easter's searching for eggs...we have a hole in our hearts, or I do at least.
We are always asked, so when will you be having babies? Or why are you waiting? Or how come you don't have kids yet? Or all your friends have kids, why don't you? All I want to say is, BUTTTT OUT. But, I just put on my smiley face and say, "Oh...we're not ready." Or "We want to get some traveling in." Or "We like our alone time." Or DUMB EXCUSES except for the REAL reason. My husband and I went into our relationship knowing that we weren't going to have kids or be able to have kids. With my medical history, I threw it out there right away when we started dating...I said, "Hun, before you start to love me, you need to know that I may not EVER be able to have children, is that OK? Because if it isn't get out of my life and never look back."
He turned to me and said, "I would never NOT be with you because you aren't able to have children. I love you for you regardless of what comes with and I'm hear to get through anything with you as long as I have you." (**TEARS)
Well folks...that sealed the deal. 7 years later he proposed on the beaches of Maui and a year after that we were married. After a couple years of marriage, all was well, but I had still had that hole in my heart...I wanted a family, I wanted kids, I wanted to me a mom. We never really knew how this would happen or IF it would happen because I was told in 2007 by an awful doctor with NO bedside manner that I was infertile and would need to be put on birth control for the rest of my life to regulate my hormones. No explanations, just a phone call with bone chilling news and click. It was over. I remember dropping to my knees in the kitchen of the one bedroom apartment, sobbing until I was puking...who calls a 23 year old and tells them this in the way he did? ASS HOLE.
As most of you know, life goes on...and it did...but, one day I received a call from a "friend", a very close friend with another great story of how she was placed in my life (again...another day and time and we can get through that one). She said she was moving to the city because she got a new job...at a fertility clinic only 30 minutes from our house. She let me know that she decided to make the move because of.....ME. My story. My life. My hurdles. My struggles. She wanted to help people like me...those dealing with infertility, those with crazy medical backgrounds affecting their yearning for a family, those who have unexplained infertility...you name it. I was speechless. I couldn't believe it. After she had been working there a couple years, she reached out to us and said we should really stop by and visit with the team of highly accomplished professionals. She said they may have ideas or ways of getting around what they told me years ago and helping us create the family we have always wanted....
So, now...a new door had opened WAY at the end of the tunnel...we thought it was completely closed. But, there was this tiny ray of light visible...and why not check it out? Babies...OK!
The Beginning...
The beginning...why do I have this blog? What's up with the title and why should you even stop to listen to my story? Well, it's somewhat interesting and I need to cope. I've read a lot of articles that say writing down your feelings helps get you through things...so, that's what I'm doing.
My whole story started many years ago...I was 16, living the life I had imagined...I grew up in a small town, was dating a Varsity Hockey player, was on the honor roll, had tons of friends, was finally coming into my teeth and understanding how to actually put makeup on without looking like a clown. I didn't have a care in the world. I was on the volleyball team, worked a part time job, was busy all the time...I would get normal colds and stomach bugs... I had bruises on my knees and elbows because I played libero aka backrow specialist...all I did was dig, dig, DIG. The ball didn't hit the floor, so I'd be prone to lots of bumps and bruises. Well, those bumps and bruises didn't go away...and then I'd get sick and that wouldn't go away either. I'd sleep all the time...but, I was busy playing sports, going to school...you name it.
My mom decided to take me into the doc to see what was up...long story short, I had leukemia...at 16. My life was put on hold. I was rushed 8 hours south of my home town to a world renowned clinic where the miraculous doctors would eventually save my life along with a bone marrow transplant from an unrelated donor that we can't even find now to say Thank you!...BUT, I can get into the details of that story later...Now, 11 years later...my life is still in a whirlwind of craziness...and trying to move on to the next chapter has become quite a challenge.
My whole story started many years ago...I was 16, living the life I had imagined...I grew up in a small town, was dating a Varsity Hockey player, was on the honor roll, had tons of friends, was finally coming into my teeth and understanding how to actually put makeup on without looking like a clown. I didn't have a care in the world. I was on the volleyball team, worked a part time job, was busy all the time...I would get normal colds and stomach bugs... I had bruises on my knees and elbows because I played libero aka backrow specialist...all I did was dig, dig, DIG. The ball didn't hit the floor, so I'd be prone to lots of bumps and bruises. Well, those bumps and bruises didn't go away...and then I'd get sick and that wouldn't go away either. I'd sleep all the time...but, I was busy playing sports, going to school...you name it.
My mom decided to take me into the doc to see what was up...long story short, I had leukemia...at 16. My life was put on hold. I was rushed 8 hours south of my home town to a world renowned clinic where the miraculous doctors would eventually save my life along with a bone marrow transplant from an unrelated donor that we can't even find now to say Thank you!...BUT, I can get into the details of that story later...Now, 11 years later...my life is still in a whirlwind of craziness...and trying to move on to the next chapter has become quite a challenge.
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