Angels among us

Sometimes, support comes from the oddest of places.

This nice woman used to be a neighbor of my Gram. She lived in the same "over-55" complex, but they never knew each other. Back when David was born, she knitted something for him, and it so reminded me of my Gram because if my Gram had still been alive, she would have made me something similar.

Anyway, this older woman brings her car into the dealership where S. works, and over the years she has become a friend to S. and a great customer. In my husband's business, he usually deals with aggravated people- so refreshing to talk to someone with a heart.

Sometime long ago, S. shared with this woman that we were going through some serious infertility issues (after she asked the inevitable question, "aren't you having any more children??") Each time she would visit my husband, she would always ask for updates. And as she departed, always mentioned she would say a prayer for us.

Yesterday, she arrived with an envelope. Inside was a prayer card (for St. Gerard, Patron Saint of Motherhood), and a relic.

I was just stunned with this act of kindness. An almost stranger thinking of me, rooting for me. Praying for me.

Such a selfless thing to do! I feel unworthy, yet strangely comforted.

If angels do exist, I do believe I have one.

Don't bet over your head.

So here we are.

I did manage to finally get some sleep since my last post. I was starting to think something was seriously wrong with me. Like I'd end up on the show "House" as the sleepless woman, and Dr. House would diagnose me with some bizarre one in a million disease. And then I'd be given a terminal diagnosis only to be clutched from death's door because of something simple like a bug bite on my pinky toe.

Anyway....

I did have my consult with Dr. Nerd yesterday. It was as expected, but with a lot of CHEERS and JEERS.

Dr. Nerd likes to state the obvious, and each time we sit down for one of these pow-wows, he feels the need to review my entire infertile history. As if I've forgotten. From the five miscarriages, to the questionable blocked tube, my "unknown" diagnosis, perfect blood work, my ease at getting pregnant but not, my annoying cervix, the various drama interspersed over the last three years...

I tried to keep my eyes from rolling to the back of my head.

But then we talked about my last failed IVF cycle. He went on to say that 14 eggs for a woman my age (40 years, 6 months) was practially a record-breaking event (CHEERS). Then the fact that 12 eggs fertilized normally was also above average (CHEERS).

Then the bad news. Which we already knew. The transfer with the top three failed. (JEERS) And then he dropped the bomb about my "so-called"over-achieving embryos...

Of the nine remaining in the embryology lab, by Day 4 all were abnormal (just on sight). By the end of Day 4, 8 had arrested (stopped growing). One lonely embryo had made it to blast, but it was so badly fragmented and abnormal looking they deemed it not suitable to freeze.

Of course we will never know what really happened to the three that were transferred. But obviously they likely suffered the same fate.

At least it wasn't a miscarriage! That thought has brought me comfort in the last three weeks, and I heard myself say it in my head at the table.

So then we turned to the "what now" portion of the consult. We talked statistics. My clinic is one of the best in my area, but even so... trying on my own would be a very much uphill battle.

Having been on the wrong side of the statistics SO MANY times, I am no longer the woman looking at the half-full glass.

8-12% is my chances of a "clinical" pregnancy on my own with another IVF cycle. "Clinical" as in a positive pregnancy test. That number does not account for miscarriages after a positive test. The real "take-home baby" percent is waaaay lower. Can it happen? Well miracles can always happen. But with my history and old eggs, it's very unlikely.

Age is my enemy. I may be an egg-producing anomaly for a 40 year old, but quantity does not trump quality. It doesn't do a damn thing for me.

65% is my chances of a "clinical" pregnancy with Donor Eggs. The miscarriage rate is way lower because my age doesn't matter. The added bonus is with my clinic's donor program, eggs making it to freeze are a common occurrence. So even if it didn't work out of the gate from a fresh cycle, FET cycles are likely. And even a frozen cycle with DE triples or quadruples my chances. The downside is money. But money is money, and with the debt I'm in, what's another 12k?

I have ONE insured IVF cycle left on my medical insurance. Any person would be crazy to bet on my eggs. Hell, I wouldn't even bet on them.

So I'm not.

And so begins chapter #god knows what in my quest.

Now I see why people become addicted to gambling.

The pain of losing money pales in comparison to the hope of the payoff.

The BIG payoff.

Insomnia

For the last five days or so, I've had a really hard time sleeping at night.

For whatever reason, my brain has been on overload. Being back to work, still adjusting to David's new schedule, and over thinking infertility has kept me from a sound sleep. I've averaged no more than 3-4 hours of sleep a night lately. I'm tired, I'm irritable, and my stomach is in knots.

Over the weekend, I started to feel a little sick. Just a minor cold, but enough to further exacerbate the situation of sleeplessness. I finally gave in and took nighttime cold medicine, in hopes that I would drift off into a deep sleep last night.

Of course it didn't work.

I went to bed at 8:30pm (early) but after tossing and turning I was back downstairs to watch TV at 10:30pm.

I went back upstairs at 11:30pm, and lay in bed watching the moon though the blinds. It was so bright, it almost seemed like the sun.

I thought about everything.

I just couldn't turn it off.

I thought about my job. We had a re-org while I was gone, and my job didn't change... but I was shifted into another division. Major shifts like this sometimes are the harbinger of bigger shifts. The economy is tanking big time, and my company is one of those stocks that everyone watches. Uncertainty in our stock spells doom for the blue chips. I am preparing for the worst.

I thought about S.' job, and how uncertain his job is also. And how much he hates it now. How I wish I could just wave a magic wand and get him a new job he loves.

I thought about my RE appointment tomorrow. I thought about the questions I want to ask, and the questions I am fearful to ask.

I thought about money, or the lack of it in the household. I thought about medical bills and utility bills, and tuition, and the credit card bills, and David growing so fast out his clothes, and how badly I need new shoes, and tons of other random, trivial crap.

I thought about God. Yep, I did. With David now attending a Catholic school, we've been making an effort to start talking to David more about religion. He is learning prayers at school. We're trying to get back to church as a family on a regular basis. Trying to connect spiritually with something... anything.

But there's a problem. My faith has been wavering lately. And the more we open up our lives to this, the more I am becoming angry. I am angry at the the injustices of the world. I am angry that a parishioner lost a 6 month old baby boy last week. I am angry that God has the audacity to give many of us MUCH more than we can handle. How can this be? How can this be right?

By 3:07am, I was still up and still thinking, and worrying.

At 3:17am, I went to the bathroom, walked back to the spare bedroom (as to not disturb S.) and sat with a tissue box in hand. I was so congested I couldn't breathe.

At 3:30am I pulled the blanket up over my head and started to cry. I don't know where it came from. I cried as quietly as I could. I didn't want to wake S. or David. All the while inside I was screaming like a banshee. If I had been alone, I sure I would have screamed out loud. I cried for at least 20 minutes, and then I propped up my congested head on four pillows and stared blankly at the window.

At 5:42am I heard S. get up to take his shower.

And it dawned on me I never went to sleep last night.

Latte Rehab has its perks

Now that David catches the bus for school (and I'm not driving him 12 miles each way to daycare) I have extra time on my hands.

I didn't realize that my weekday commute to daycare chewed up a ton of time each day. I used to leave the house at 7:15am, and lucky if I got home by 8:15am.

Now I walk a block at 7:30am to the bus stop, and I'm sitting at my desk here in the home office by 7:40am.

Whatever will I do with the extra 50 minutes?? lol.

I'm saving some money as well. I used to fill up at the gas station once a week, and now who knows how far a tank will get me. I filled up last Sunday and my tank is still on FULL!

S. works about 7 miles from home, and he no longer has to drive out of this way for PM pickups at daycare either. That's a lot of savings considering he has a gas guzzling pickup truck.

Sadly, I gave up my morning coffee. Four days a week I had been stopping at Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts. Now I make my coffee at home mostly. I still treat myself on the weekends or an occasional afternoon. I figure I am saving about $80 a month just in coffee alone.

I could get used to this.

Of course, all the saved money will go towards the infertility debt, but something is better than nothing, right?

After that, I should institute a new PURSE fund. Now that's what I call FUN.

Never too early...

...to order up the Halloween costume.

David has decided that his new adult career will be a "SWAT Man". Not a police officer. That's too generic a title for him.

He's been on this SWAT thing for about 6 months now. If you were to ask him "what does a SWAT person do?" He would respond, "He saves the people!"

David has always had the compassion gene as the overriding emotion he lives by. I try to preserve that quality in him. He's always the first to help a child that has fallen down. He comforts children who cry. He seeks out friends who are like him, and those who are very unlike him. He isn't afraid to put himself out there and worry about whether he will be judged.

I find it all so endearing, and frankly... I am often jealous. I remind myself that I was once the same child... but as we grow older and life imposes the good and the bad, sometimes those qualities get lost or forgotten.

I would love for David to grow up and find passion in something he feels he was "born to do".

Perhaps a teacher, doctor, fireman, or humanitarian.

But for this Halloween, he will be a SWAT Man...

...saving the world.

Image from Sensational Beginnings... land of cool costumes

This and that

Well, one more day of freedom before I am back to work. The time went so, so fast. Even though it didn't turn out as I had hoped, it was a great 4 weeks off.

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I giggled and giggled at the SNL skit from Saturday. Did you see it? I just can't fathom the turn of events through this political circus (still trying to actually). If I was Hillary, I'd be in a seriously permanent bitchy mood. I don't like to talk politics on this blog (how many times have you heard me say that?) but let's just say the thought of Palin "one heartbeat away" from the Oval Office scares the ever-lovin' crap out of me. And that's all the political commentary you'll get out of me.

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I have my RE consult next Tuesday with Dr. Nerd and Nurse T (they coordinate the donor program). The IVF Nurse called me on Friday to let me know that my file was reviewed, and the consensus was to try another IVF cycle with a slightly tweaked protocol. No, really? I asked her if the subject of donor eggs was spoken, and yes, she said... it is an option... Then she tiptoed into the conversation about it, as if she has been waiting for ME to mention it. I picked up on the bizarre boomerang in the conversation and she confided that it was suggested, but they are instructed to "tread lightly" when approaching the conversation with patients. Apparently, there is a subset of infertility patients that freak the hell out when the subject is brought up. I understand that it is a very rickety bridge, and I also understand that for some it is a deal-breaker of sorts. You know that's not me.

To put Nurse B at ease, I gave her one of my famous analogies... "Pretend I'm a dog, and there's a delicious bone in the corner, but I have to break my leash to get to it. As I pull on the leash you move the bone out of the house, down the street, and throw it into a storm sewer. I break the leash, chew out the door of the house, run down the street, and squeeze my body through the storm sewer opening. I want that bone, and nothing will stand in my way to get it."

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The bills have started to roll in from my recent cycle. Those pesky billing clerks pulled a fast one on me. Usually, my RE bills two months in arrears. For instance, I am supposed to just now get my bill for services delivered in July. I thought I wouldn't have to dish up major $$$ until October. But you guessed it, they sent me the bill for retrieval and transfer which I received over the weekend. The biggest one of course, and skipped over all my u/s and blood work charges from July/August. Losers. I'll probably get the other bill today, and can promptly sob on my credit card statements.

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David is doing much better with the new routine. He loves his classmates, and is getting really fired up about school. Yesterday was his first soccer game with the Township. Tuesday he starts school soccer. He's just learning the game, but having a lot of fun. It's funny to watch a bunch of five year-olds running on 1/4 of a soccer field. Half of them lunge for the ball, the others kind of run around in circles not sure what to do. Yesterday it was 92 degrees here in Jersey... way too hot to focus. Poor kids guzzled Gatorade in between each break. Hopefully the heat is over for the summer, and some cooler air is around the corner.

Not forgotten

Please take some time today to visit Bridges to see the "100 Words Project"- this one dedicated in rememberence of 9/11.

I posted my own 100 words (I am number 31). If you are a longtime reader, you know how much that day hit close to home. Crazy fate kept me safe at home that day. I shudder to think of what might have been.

My anniversary post from two years ago recounts my own memory of a place I love and miss to this day.

Down the Rabbit Hole

So here I am.

The last week has been really, really... odd. First the world comes to a complete stop for a day, and then life goes on. Trouble is everything is upside down and right side up.

Caterpillar: Who... are... you?
Alice: Why, I hardly know, sir. I've changed so much since this morning, you see...
Caterpillar: No, I do not C, explain yourself.
Alice: I'm afraid I can't explain myself, you see, because I'm not myself, you know.
Caterpillar: I do not know.
Alice: I can't put it any more clearly, sir, because it isn't clear to me.

Alice in Wonderland, yes, that's me. Where nothing makes sense and everything makes perfect sense.

My son's first days of school have been challenging for him and me. A new schedule, new people, new environment, and a little bit of tears. Tears from David, that is. I know it will take awhile for him to feel comfortable in his new world, but it's a very odd emotion coming from him. He is usually the fearless one. The independent little man. The boy who n-e-v-e-r cries. To see tears in his eyes as he gets on the bus rattles me, because I've been there too. The unknown is scary sometimes.

Then there's work. I'm still on my sabbatical, one week left to be a pretend stay-at-home mom. I am frantically knocking things off the to-do list as if the world ends next Tuesday when I return to work. Work has been on my mind. There is more responsibility on the horizon... and in order for me to keep moving forward I need to break out of my shell and move on to different challenges- some of them way out of my comfort zone, but what I need to do.

And, the baby-making business. The phone has not rung yet with advice from "the collective", otherwise known as my four RE's. I suppose I can beat them to the punch and schedule a consult. They had their meeting, and I'm sure that there was a universal head-scratching when discussing my chart. My chart which now looks like two reams of paper. Rampant with words like, "Habitual Aborter without Current Pregnancy", and "Female Infertility with Unspecified Origin". I've had wild thoughts of just letting it all go, and never stepping foot in the RE's office, but who am I kidding?

I also have my International Adoption paperwork stack off the side of my desk. I fear to look into it again, because the pang of the unknown is there, but I know that once I flip that switch I will be headlong into another venture. The difference being that there is a beginning, middle, and end. The problem is the middle. It is so vast in terms of time. And time is dwindling, no doubt about that.

I cleaned my closet today. It felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders after I hung up the last hanger and drove the clothes to Goodwill. I ignored the old baby stuff in the corner. I pondered tossing them in the dumpster, but even that was too much brain space to occupy even for another second.

Maybe next week will feel a little different.

Alice: Well, when one's lost, I suppose it's good advice to stay where you are until someone finds you. But who'd ever think to look for me here?

Sometimes You Can't Make it on Your Own

"Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone

And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you that makes it hard to let go
Sometimes you can't make it on your own
Sometimes you can't make it
The best you can do is to fake it
Sometimes you can't make it on your own"

~Sometimes You Can't Make it on Your Own, Lyrics by Bono of U2


The years are ticking by so fast now. It feels like yesterday when I celebrated this blog's one year anniversary, and here we are again at another milestone.

Blogoversary #2

It's fitting to start another new year with another new chapter in my life. Curious timing indeed.

I dedicate this blogoversary to all of you. It's YOU that have helped me and supported me when support in real life was hit or miss. Many of you have pulled me back from that cliff and listened while I vented, and cried when I cried, and cheered me on when I needed a personal pep rally.

...and whether I am talking about the pain of secondary infertility, or the ups and downs of being a Mom, or the roadblocks and successes of working full-time as a woman- I constantly learn and grow along with all of you.

Every person who has read or followed my blog (17,000 unique visitors to date- wow) has brightened my life, challenged my thinking, and exposed me to so many experiences I never would have had otherwise. My world is so much richer with all of you in it.

Thank you...

Love,
Me

The First Day

Today was David's first day of Kindergarten.

It started off great. He had his backpack and was ready to go:

He was excited to get on the bus.

I hopped in the car and drove to school, to meet his bus and partake in the Kindergarten Parenting Tradition of pictures in the gym.

He had that weary look on his face, with all of the parents buzzing around and the commotion, but with a kiss on the forehead he was off to his classroom.

A couple parents and myself stalked in the hallway, and as I zoomed in out of sight with my camera, I saw him crying silently at his desk, with his hands over his eyes. Not a day in the last four years of daycare, preschool, and pre-K, did David ever cry at school.

It broke my heart, and I wanted to reach out to him but I knew I shouldn't. As the teachers sat the kids at their seats, the assistant whispered something to David and he seemed to come around.

I lurked in the hallway until the principal encouraged us (gently) to leave. Three moms and I walked out with tears in our eyes.

I'm sure he's fine, and it was a case of the nerves getting the best of him... being in a new environment around new people. I remember my first day of school, and what a mixture of emotions. Happy, sad, scared, excited.

But after the events of the last few days it was a lot of tears shed from my end... all the way driving home, and salty tears hitting the keyboard as I type this.

My baby is a big boy now.

Swan Song

Negative.

I spoke to the nurse this morning, and my clinic does a patient review each week so that all four of the RE's can make suggestions for next steps. My file will be reviewed on Friday and I'll have a consult sometime in the next two weeks with a lot of feedback.

I already know that this was the last cycle for my own eggs. Even if they advise that we can try another fresh cycle, I only have insurance for one more... and it won't be wasted on me.

S. and I are prepared to move on with donor eggs and/or adoption.

Thank you all for your support along the way. I hope you will stick by me as I venture into the unknown again.

This time hopefully with a different result.