The leprechaun or the "leprechaun" sighter could be a crackhead... and so could I- but don't worry not that kind of crackhead. Someone on another infertility blog recently talked about pregnancy tests being addictive. They are. They are my crack. I got better about not taking a test before my missed period (yes for months I was doing this), mostly because I decided I wasn't going to buy pregnancy tests and keep them in the house. If I do it's like they're calling to be from the closet "Come! Take me! Don't you want to know!"
But as I explained this past weekend I caved and bought a 2 pack. I thought- it is my first month of Clomid, I need to have some just in case. Took a test on Saturday, day 25, negative. Today is day 29... still no day 1 and technically now 2 days late.
I have this pit in my stomach. I can't decide if it's nausea or heartburn or worry over whether I am/am not pregnant.
Is it too early to test again?
I am trying to wait until Friday. I haven't always been exactly regular. But the past few months I have consistently started my period on day 28. I also for what it's worth have been having more symptoms prior to menses. For the past 4-5 months I've had more cramping and pretty noticeable breast tenderness/soreness. I don't know if this means I finally started ovulating 4-5 months ago after a year off birth control. I have heard people say a month for every year you were on birth control until your ovulation/fertility is back to normal. I have no idea if this is true. If I didn't start ovulating until 4-5 months ago that would mean it took me basically 2 months for every month I was on birth control (I took if for 6.5-7 years). I have no real way of knowing because when I had my first 21-day progesterone was the first month I felt that way and it was consistent with ovulation. I did OPK for one cycle previously and thought it looked like I had ovulated but I still think those OPK tests are confusing.
My 21-day progesterone this month after Clomid was 16.5- definitely ovulated.
I really just want to go take a test but the thing is, I always do that and start bleeding immediately afterward. I don't want to get my hopes up and I think you're supposed to wait about a week in between (for doubling of b-hcg?).
In other news, I got my intro packet from the fertility center today. I haven't looked through it yet but it makes me have some confidence seeing how organized they are and knowing they will review all our previous testing prior to the appointment.
It's kind of funny sitting here thinking I may be pregnant and coming home to find that in the mail. It makes me think- Why are you getting your hopes up? You've been down this road before. Don't fool yourself. But then the hopeful side of me says but you took Clomid this month and you've been nauseous a few days and your breasts are more sore and maybe, just maybe you are pregnant.
Ahhh... I will avoid the crack.
For now.
Or maybe I'll go take a test and read my intro packet while I wait on the results...
I started cramping today so I know day 1 is looming it's ugly head and waiting just around the corner. Probably tomorrow.
But today, I am going to focus on the good that happened yesterday.
As I wrote in my post yesterday, it was a rough weekend. This emotional rollercoaster of infertility ebbs and flows and this weekend was just a low moment. I am trying to push the car back up the hill today, slowly.
Yesterday after I wrote that post I started looking up other infertility blogs. I have been trying to find someone who is still on the journey like I am, someone who hasn't been a lucky one yet. The blogs I've found and enjoyed so far have all had a happy ending of one sort or another (through infertility treatments or adoption) which is encouraging but I also just want someone that I can feel I am commiserating with, someone who is feeling lost like I am.
I googled "unexplained infertility blog" and found this blog: Unexplained x2 She also had a happy ending but something struck me while I was reading through her blog. If you click on the link you'll notice the background. The hummingbird at the upper right corner.
Hummingbirds hold a significant place in my heart. They (in real life, pictures of them, the word hummingbird) seem to come to me when I need reassurance. They are messages from my brother that everything will be okay.
You see, the night he passed away my next door neighbor told us that as we sat in our dining room at the front of my parents home, she (at her house next door) saw a hummingbird a flight in the window, flittering back and forth, seeming to be watching us. Now this was a cold, rainy miserable night in March in Ohio. There typically aren't hummingbirds flittering about. Then we looked through this book my brother had about animal spirits (he loved animals and nature, was a bit of a hippie). The entry for hummingbird talked about it being a symbol for resurrection, coming to people for reassurance in times of sorrow. After that, they seemed to come to all of us at different times- my parents, my brother's best friend while rafting on the Colorado River (the guide told her he'd never seen a hummingbird before on the river), my husband and I in our new home. Then there was a day I was missing him like crazy and in our lecture they talked about the "hummingbird sign" on MRI.
So yesterday, it just struck me, things are going to be okay. One way or another, things are going to be okay.
I kept thinking of that phrase "Hope is the thing with feathers" from the poem by Emily Dickinson.
"Hope" is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul And sings the tune without the words And never stops at all And sweetest in the gale is heard And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm I've heard it in the chilliest land And on the strangest sea Yet, never, in extremity It asked a crumb of me I've got the hummingbird, the thing with feathers, on my side.
So I wake up Saturday morning still thinking I may be pregnant (although still only at day 25) and feeling guilty about the several glasses of wine I had the night before.
But not too guilty... the first few months we started trying I would avoid things you shouldn't eat/drink while pregnant (namely alcohol, sushi) the week or so before my lovely period (aka reminder of my infertility) came. You know, because I was hoping I was pregnant and didn't want to damage my morula. Then months passed, I decided those little cells could stand some beer or wine if I didn't yet know of their existence and I just couldn't handle purposely avoiding alcohol each month only to find out I wasn't pregnant... again.
This probably makes me sound like an alcoholic.
I am not an alcoholic but I do enjoy a glass or wine or 2 or 3 on the weekends. I have a busy, stressful life/career and a glass of wine does the body good.
So back to my guilt... we were planning on going out again Saturday night to meet friends at a Mexican place. Which meant margaritas of course. So I convinced myself I'll just take a pregnancy test to make myself feel better about having a jumbo margarita.
I went upstairs to get ready for dinner with pregnancy test in hand. I didn't tell my husband I was taking it because he would think I'm crazy. And I've gotten much better about not taking tests unless I'm actually late but this is my first month of Clomid and maybe I've been feeling just a little bit hopeful.
I take the test and muddle around the bathroom waiting the 3 minutes to read it.
Negative.
Jumbo margarita is mine.
But now I have to think about how the first month of Clomid likely failed while at dinner on Saturday night. Fabulous planning on my part.
But it gets better.
I go back downstairs and my husband says "Your phone has been blowing up." I look at my phone and start seeing "Congrats!" "I'm so happy for you guys!" text messages from multiple of my high school friends and scroll up through the twenty texts to find out which of my friends is pregnant this time.
Of course... the friend who got married 6 months after me. Who just bought a house. Who probably stopped birth control when they bought their house 3 months ago and got pregnant that month.
Now I don't know any of these things. And I am a bitch and a terrible friend.
But I know one thing- they haven't been trying for 18 months.
Why do they get to be pregnant and we don't?
Somewhere in me I swear I am happy for them but when I first read those words I am mostly sorry for myself and angry.
I just feel like I have a pretty wonderful life now but I have been dealt more than my fair share of hardships in the past. Why does infertility have to be one of them?
So I tried unsuccessfully to drown my sorrows in my jumbo margarita and then decided something. I really need to make some new girl friends- ones without children.
I love my friends and am so blessed to have them but my two best girl friends in town have a 2 month old and a 3 year old. And most of the couples we hang out with frequently have multiple children. Sometimes lately, I just need to escape that. To not have to look at them and think of what I can't have. I need some more girl friends to drink too many jumbo margaritas with and eat sushi and go out dancing and forget about babies and broken uteri.
I am day 24 of my first Clomid cycle today and I am scared. I have been having 28 day cycles for the past few months so I hopefully only have a few more days to wait but it's a harder wait this month. I don't know why (maybe it's the dismal statistics) but I think of Clomid as a "here's your last shot at something non-invasive and cheap, probably not gonna work but we'll give it a go considering the alternatives" treatment. I read for unexplained infertility your rate of conception per month is 2% and Clomid increases this to 4%. YIPEE!!! Sounds like the miracle cure to me! So I have been trying not to be extra hopeful but it is hard not to be.
And I am back to my typical ways of thinking everything that happens to me is a sign that I could be pregnant. I had nausea after dinner last night and it's still hanging around this morning. My first thought- could I be pregnant? These are the thoughts I try to push away because I know from past months they only bring more disappointment when day 1 comes.
The less than optimistic side of me called yesterday to make our first appointment with a reproductive endocrinologist. First, I must confess that I HATE calling strangers/businesses ect. I can talk on the phone all day to my best friends from high school who are scattered across the country, but something about calling to order food, make appts, talk to strangers of any sort gets me nervous. I also had some guilt because my OB had recommended that I see Dr. H but Dr. A has an excellent reputation in this area and I have friends and friends of friends who have gone to him so I decided that I would rather see Dr. A. So I call and the person answering the phone tells me kindly that Dr. A is leaving their practice and moving out of state tomorrow. Tomorrow? Really? Okay, Dr. H it is. The thing is my husband talked to friends of ours who went through IVF several years ago with Dr. A, they are both physicians as well and one of them worked with Dr. H as a med student and described him as "weird." Great- just what I need, weird people looking at my vajay.
Anyway, beggers can't be choosers I guess. So I scheduled the appointment for October because that is when my husband and I are both on months where we can realistically make it to a doctor's appointment together. And that gives me the 2 more months of Clomid we are planning on right now if this month is unsuccessful. I figure I can cancel if I'm in that lucky 4%.
The person I spoke to was very sweet and explained the process and how the appointment would go, told me they're mailing us a packet with medical information release forms for our records to be sent from my OB and for my husband's semen analysis. Yet somehow when I hung up the phone I felt this intense sadness, like making that phone call was admitting we failed, shouting out "WE ARE INFERTILE!"
But in reality- it has been 18 months, we have failed.
I have been on Clomid for 4 days now, last day is tomorrow. I am taking it days 3-7 per the doctor's orders with a progesterone test on day 21.
Maybe I am just making excuses but I really feel like yesterday Clomid made me a crazy person. I was in that state of on the verge of tears the entire day. So not once, but twice, I was pushed over the edge- for the most trivial things. And the thing was, I could rationalize with myself that there was no real reason to be as upset as I was but I still could not control it.
I felt crazy.
Crazier than my baseline semi-crazed state.
Then today I had a really good day- no crazy, no tears. Had a team dinner for the end of the month. Enjoyed myself.
Then I came home to the torture device otherwise known as facebook. At least 10 of my friends posted pictures of their fresh (within the last month) babies- check. 1 friend announced their pregnancy- check. 1 friend posted their adorably cute maternity photos with their already here 2 year old son- check.
Then I climbed under a rock and cried myself to sleep.
Check.
I like to think I am above jealousy and that I am working on no longer feeling sorry for myself. But that would be a lie.
I am jealous. And sad. And still sorry for myself.
And still wondering most days why is this so easy for everyone except for us?
Good news is my hubby returns to the land of the living in 1 week.
And you know what that means...
It's Clomid time!
I'm kinda nervous about it... it's our first "Infertility treatment." I know it's probably no big deal for pros out there but it feels like a big deal to me because it makes things official, like "Yes, you really are infertile!" I don't know, there's just always been this part of me in the back of my mind (while being envious of the pregnant bellies at the grocery store) that thought it would just happen for us these past 2 months while awaiting the hubby to finish nights.
Is that how it always is with infertility?
You always cling to the hope that things will be different?
So for now I am hopeful. Hopeful the clomid doesn't make me crazy and does make me ripe with child. Hopeful my youthful ovaries just need a swift kick in the ass.
So infertility is draining... to the mind, body, spirit... and wallet.
We don't even really know what we're in for yet monetarily. The work-up we've undergone so far has cost us more than anticipated. I thought I had pretty good insurance and I think the testing so far has cost us $800-1,000. And that's not including an HSG or any treatment.
But the price we've paid so far falls into the spirit department.
I talked about this in my first post and it was part of my motivation for starting this blog- wanting to air my frustrations in an effort to have a more positive attitude.
The most challenging thing lately has been the effect all of this is having on our future and our career decisions. Oh how lucky are those who don't have to plan for infertility.
My husband is one year away from being finished with his residency. He has the option of starting to work as an attending immediately when he is done or continuing his training further and doing a 1 year Intensive Care fellowship. He would be an excellent ICU doctor and I want him to follow his dreams. I have 2 years left and will make substantially less money than him even when I am an attending (pediatric subspecialties despite sometimes longer training pay less- go figure). He has to decide soon (like should have decided already).
But... the truth is... if he starts working right away his salary will at least quadruple- if not more. If he continues on to fellowship his salary will remain essentially the same. We are not poor right now by any means but we also have a huge amount of medical school debt between the two of us and the idea of paying thousands of dollars for IVF or adoption is not feasible at the moment.
To be honest, I didn't even consider this when he debated back and forth about whether or not to pursue a fellowship. He brought it up and he is the one who continues to worry about it. He puts our family first and above his career which is just one of the many reasons I adore him.
But I want him to be happy.
I don't want him to have any regrets.
And what if he forgoes fellowship so that we can afford infertility treatments or adoption and we aren't successful in having a baby?
Is it worth that cost? Will he have regrets?
I know if I was pregnant right now he would do the fellowship. It is what he wants.
I wish these decisions were easy.
I wish there was a right answer.
I wish I could just get pregnant so I could start decorating a nursery instead of worrying about all this bull shit.
