Our Little Engine that Could

Praise and thanksgiving! Our Little Engine that Could is making slow progress safe and sound in my uterus. I have an at risk pregnancy, but a pregnancy, nonetheless. I'm 6w3d pregnant from my FET, but the gestational sack and yolk sack measured proportionally at 5w2d. The amazing ultrasound technician said that there is a margin of error of about a week, and that she has seen slow developers go on to be healthy pregnancies before. She didn't make promises, but she said to be hopeful for two weeks until we return.

Dr. B basically said everything that the sonographer said, but with less tact. He was fairly polite for himself, but he just drops bombs in a way that Wisesister thinks is unnecessary, and I am inclined to agree with her. For example, he could have avoided scaring me half to death that I was having an ectopic pregnancy and was facing internal bleeding and certain loss. All he had to do was say, "Your blood work is irregular. Let's bring you in for a sono to learn more!" He did suggest that in his experience about 50% of cases like mine result in healthy pregnancies, which is a big improvement over the 15% we had been hearing for the last week.

We're proceeding as if we have a healthy baby. In two weeks, we'll have a make or break sono where we will learn if there is a fetus developing slowly in the the yolk sack. If there is a fetus and a heart beat, we won't necessarily be out of the woods, but it will be 8w3d, and that's a pretty great place to be. If not, then we'll know that we've lost the pregnancy and we'll be able to grieve and start to decide where to go from there.

Vermillion, Part 2

I was listening to my FET soundtrack that I never got around to posting on my way home from my very long day at work (Meet the Teacher Night), and one song stuck out to me. I know that it wasn't necessarily written about infertility, but the message felt very on point.

Ok, I'm not really a Slipknot girl, but they sing every once in a while instead of scream, and "Vermillion, Part 2" is particularly beautiful. I think the music video is pretty grim, but the lyrics really speak to me by themselves. I'll bold the lyrics that mean the most to me.

She seemed dressed in all of me, stretched across my shame.
All the torment and the pain
Leaked through and covered me
I'd do anything to have her to myself
Just to have her for myself
Now I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do when she makes me sad.

She is everything to me
The unrequited dream
A song that no one sings
The unattainable, she's a myth that I have to believe in
All I need to make it real is one more reason
I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do when she makes me sad.

But I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me

A catch in my throat choke
Torn into pieces
I won't, no!
I don't wanna be this...

But I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me

She isn't real
I can't make her real
She isn't real
I can't make her real

Half-grieving

I've been half-grieving since Thursday, when I got the worst kind of news when trying to referee what could only be described as an epic Greek and Latin Stem Word Pictionary Battle. I was so caught off guard and in the middle of everything that I had to call back later when my students were working individually to process the information. Unfortunately, the second time around, the nurse's news did not improve.

My HSG, the pregnancy hormone, levels did not rise at the rate that they want. They look for at least 66% rise in two days, and mine had gone up just about 33%. What could it be? Well, miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, a healthy pregnancy that defies the trend (15% chance), or even more unlikely, our single embryo split into twins, one of whom was surviving and the other wasn't. What to do? Wait and repeat on Monday.

Today, I took the initiative and called when it was convenient, and on my school land line since the cell service in my classroom is terrible. I knew it wasn't good when the nurse hesitated to tell me anything at all since Dr. B hadn't reviewed my charts yet. Oh, shit, not the miracle I'd been praying for.

My hormones went up about 30% again, and they're at a good level for someone who is 6 weeks pregnant, but the slow rise makes Dr. B think it's an ectopic pregnancy. Yeah, that's when your baby is growing OUTSIDE of your womb.

Bad stuff. Risk your life to internal bleeding and destroy your lady parts if you don't end it bad stuff. Chose between poisoning your doomed baby with chemotherapy drugs or surgically removing your doomed baby bad stuff.

I go in for a sono to see if it's actually bad stuff, or just an oddity of modern medicine. Maybe we have a perfectly healthy pregnancy and weird hormones. Supposedly it happens (15% is the number that you see), even if it appears to be documented NO WHERE on the internet. NO WHERE.

So, I am trying to be hopeful, to not return my stack of new maternity clothes, to believe in this miracle, in this pregnancy, in the beautiful hatching embryo in the picture. It's hard though, since I am half-grieving. I can't be truly hopeful, but I can't give into the all encompassing grief. I am stuck in between, where no one has anything to say other than they'll be praying for me.

That's where I am. I suppose you can pray for me.

A prayer for peace of heart

Dear Lord,

Please be with us tomorrow as we try to become parents to another child. Make my womb a healthy place, and steady the hands of our health care professionals. Please be with us if we do conceive, so that we can learn to dedicate ourselves to another child, while raising our son in your image. Please be with us if we do not conceive, so that we can grieve the loss of our hopes and continue the business of being your servants in ways that are within our grasp. Most of all, bring peace to our hearts, no matter the outcome.

In Jesus's name, Amen.

Weeks 1-2

Most people don't know that they're pregnant until they've hit week 5 or 6 or sometimes even much later. Really, only couples undergoing fertility treatments get to know and live weeks 1-2, since week one technically starts with the first day of your menses. Even crazier, IVFers can start the process at -2 (yes, NEGATIVE two) weeks or earlier depending on their protocols.

For me, this time, I started on day 2, week 1 with estradiol pills (estrogen to make a happy home) and lovenox (blood thinner to make sure the estrogen doesn't kill me or the embryo). Medically speaking, t's a lot less intense than rounds 1 and 2 of IVF that we've been through. Now that we've got a toddler? It's a whole different ball game.

Today was good, but yesterday? Oh goodness. There are no words for yesterday. Ok, there are some words for yesterday, but they're not really for polite company.

Hopped up on estrogen, I've been moody, confrontational, petulant, and extremely tired, which doesn't help with the first three. Two nights ago, Wisehubby and I had a wicked fight, but I realized that I was being pretty irrational, so I reined it in, called Wisesister, wrote down my promises for what I could do to improve the situation, and spoke calmly with him, eventually resolving the fight. Needless to say, I didn't get to bed exactly on time, and I had a hard time sleeping.

The next morning, instead of sleeping until about 7, which is typically for our son, the little guy (1 yo, mind you) woke up at 5. AM. Holy. Hell. You expect it when they're newborn, but mommies always say, "Don't worry! This won't last forever." Yes, 1 year of sleep depravation isn't literally forever, but it feels like it, for sure. On top of that, he's recently decided that being a toddler means that he is going to cry because things aren't going his way. A lot. That website, Reasons My Son is Crying, suddenly seems relatable instead of funny or cruel.

So, I had a meltdown--a throw the kid in the car and drive to the nearest mall to power walk your feelings into submission meltdown. I called Wisehubby at work to let him know I was spiraling out of control because I was tired and I was hormonal and I had forgotten to take my lovenox injection and I couldn't find the garage door opener and... and... and... Geez, there was a laundry list of other problems that I can't even remember now. 

It was bad enough that he suggested I drop the kid off to be watched by my dad, who is currently being a bachelor for the first time while my mom is out of town. That wasn't a bad idea, but my crazy hormonal brain wouldn't give in. I knew I could conquer this by myself, well, and with the help of a little bit of fear of public shaming. "Get it together!" I thought, "There's no crying in mall walking!"

After a 3 mile walk through the mall and a stop at Chick Fil A for some comfort food for me and the babe, I managed to get him home for what was surely the world's shortest afternoon nap for two such exhausted souls. The nap and the walk were enough though, and we took the rest of the afternoon to play just the two of us. He pulled all of his books off of his book shelf, we watched Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood, we filled the water table and kiddie pool, we took the dog on a walk, and we even went swimming with the dog our pool. Daddy brought home some take out, and I'd officially survived the worst day of all of my infertility treatments.

What's the moral to this tale? Even if the FET is supposed to be easier, being infertile and being a parent is something completely crazy. You're so grateful for what you have, yet that gratitude can make you less willing to admit when you are having a hard time. Once you do have a baby, the appointments and procedures and hormones are met with less ceremony and less support than the last time. I've done most of the procedures by myself, and Wisehubby hasn't helped me through a single injection. It's not that he doesn't care, because he does, but that he has someone else that he has to care for more--our son. Instead of taking in all of the crazy hormones and thinking promisingly about how they were going to change my life, I'm just so freaking tired. So tired. Please, please, baby sleep tired.

Would I change a thing? No. Stick me, prick me, hop me up on hormones. Give me a shot at a second baby and another year of my life lost to the beautiful delirium of sleepless nights and parenthood.

Clear for take off

In the last week I've had an FSH blood test and a hysteroscopy to make sure that I'm not suffering from any new complications since it has been a long time since I've done a work-up. I got the call last week that my hormones are A-OK, and today I got to see for myself that that my uterus is looking pretty during the hysteroscopy. What's next? Just a follow-up/planning session, a med order, and a period. Then, frozen embryo transfer, here we come!

The hysteroscopy is something that a lot of people dislike. I would put it on par with having a pap smear. The speculum is very uncomfortable, but it was removed as soon as the scope was in place. After that, you can just watch the monitor in amazement as your doctor points out the pin point holes that are your tubes. It's pretty cool. A little leakage and very mild cramping are the only side effects.

I'm feeling pretty stressed out right now, which I think is a combination of a lot of factors. A good friend of mine is going through a divorce, Wisebaby is turning one and getting ear tubes, we are getting our windows replaced and they keep pushing back the date, and then there is the make or break feeling of unfreezing our one and only embryo for the transfer. I had a pretty big melt down yesterday when I dropped Wisebaby's smash cake and destroyed the icing job before his birthday party. My husband saved the day, again, some more, but I think it was a good indicator that I'm more stressed than I would like and that I was letting myself think. I'm going to keep doing my yoga and trying to relax because I want to be a happy, healthy body for our frozen Wisebaby.

Anyway, that isn't my most well-conceived blog post--fertility pun intended--but, then again, we all just conceive however we can!

Preparing mind and body

The summer before our successful IVF, I took Zumba and Power Barre and got fit--not thin--fit. I didn't lose weight or change sizes, but I worked on making my body whole. I also transferred schools from a stressful work environment to a much more relaxed school. Finally, I graduated from with my master's degree, so I took graduate school off of my plate. In addition to the introduction of a blood thinner to our regime, I think those changes had a big impact on my mind-body connection going into IVF. I felt good about my body, and my body, in turn, worked for me.

This summer, I've been working hard to get into that good mind-body connection zone. I'm doing some extra work writing curriculum and teaching PD to earn money for the FET, but I'm staying mindful to focus on being the best me that I can be, and to let go of the things that are not in my control, namely, work politics and other people generally. I'm taking Zumba again, this time with my amazing 57 year old mom. I'm taking yoga for fitness with two girlfriends of mine as well. I'm doing everything I can to get in that happy zone for my baby maker.

Tonight, at yoga, I started to think back to some of the practices of prenatal yoga, which I did and loved. It was one of the best experiences of my life to become that aware and connected to my body and to my baby. I honestly miss Wisebaby when I do yoga now. I feel a little hole where he used to ride. So, during the shavasana pose, where I normally struggle and let my mind wander to earthly problems, I decided to think deeply about my uterus, to send my breaths to my baby, even though he or she is still just chilling out--literally, chilling out in a freezer! I did it, and it felt good. I didn't think about the drama in my life, work, or the chores that awaited me. I just sent breaths deep down to where I will hopefully grow our second Wisebaby. Namaste.

We figured we had one on ice.

"Hey, y'all! Good to see you! Doesn't it seem like you were just here?" asks the male Dr. B.

"It's crazy, but we're back," I reply. "We figured we had one on ice."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That was the start of our next leg of the Quest for Wisebaby journey. It was maybe a little more lighthearted than our last IVF cycle, and definitely more light-hearted than the earth shattering news that got the whole ball rolling that culminated with our first IVF cycle.

We went in yesterday to talk about doing a frozen embryo transfer, FET, with Frostie, Wisebaby's lone surviving embryo sibling. Frostie was recently dubbed "Austin Powers" by a colleague who finds the idea of an bundle of human cells lying in a freezer, cryopreserved, a little funny. It's been helping me keep things light.

Anyway, the fruits of the appointment are this:
(1) Screening tests in July
(2) Drugs and FET in August
(3) Possibly a May 2015 baby
(4) FET is indeed a fraction of the cost of IVF with ICSI ($300 for meds instead of $3000, $3000 in medical and laboratory fees instead of $12000)
(5) The male Dr. B's bedside manner is still shitty, but he still respects my OB, Dr. B, and has a great track record.
(6) They're using electronic medical records now. Cool?
(7) I'm still on the hook for Lovenox shots for blood clotting. That sucks, but what can you do?

After the appointment, Wisehubby and I went to dinner to celebrate our seventh wedding anniversary and discuss the road forward. We both feel at peace going into this FET in a way that we didn't--or maybe couldn't?--feel during our last two trips towards an embryo transfer. We know that we have just one embryo to transfer, and that our track record gives that embryo just 2 in 5 odds of turning into a pregnancy and 1 in 5 odds of turning into a live birth. Those are shitty odds, and so we must face the possibility that we're about to spend $3300 to be disappointed again.

Why are we at peace then? Well, with an amazing Wisebaby in our lives, eleven months old and charming the pants off of us each day, we can lay this one more confidently in God's hands. We can pray for the expansion of our family or for peace if it is not meant to be. We can be happy being the three Wiseman, even if we'd be so full of joy to be the four Wiseman. It would mess up our Christmas cards, but it's a small price to pay. I promise we wouldn't sign it from Austin Powers.

We had a baby 30 weeks ago.

Thirty weeks ago, I gave birth to my son, baby W. For a pregnancy that was planned every step of the way, he was a bit of a surprise at thirty-seven weeks and five days; he came a week before my scheduled induction! My water broke all at once--a gross rupture, as the nurse put it--at about 4:00 PM, and we welcomed Wisebaby to the world at 10:15 PM. Despite the blood thinner, I was clotting enough to have an epidural, which was awesome. No other interventions were needed, which was pretty great considering it took 368 needle sticks to get the little guy gestated safely.

My college roommate recently shared her fertility struggles with me, and she's even started her own blog. She credited my blog as part of her inspiration to open up about her trials, and it inspired me to come back and give the site a little look. Of course, I realized that I hadn't shared anything since I was nineteen weeks pregnant, other than timeline updates, and that made me a little sad.

Of course, the last thirty weeks have not give me a lot of time to blog. Wisebaby is a ball of energy, a terrible napper, and a people person. That means we spend a lot of time playing, cuddling, and talking to him. When he finally does go to bed, it's pretty much bottles and laundry until we drop. Parenthood is fantastic. It is everything we had hoped for and more. It is our dream come true, even though he's been sick with RSV, developed an ear infection, and cut two teeth in the last week.

Sick and tired

It's official: I am sick and tired. Not of being pregnant, although that is certainly contributing to the tired aspect. I'm actually sick, like porcupines have danced in my throat and the mucus is trying to drown me slowly sick. It came on fast, but I chose wisely to go see my doctor and get a note off from work for today--Merry Christmas!

Anyway, in all of this complaining about my upper respiratory infection, I actually do have some updates on the pregnancy front. We went to our first regular obstetric appointment on Wednesday, at exactly 9 weeks pregnant. Since we had an ultrasound at week 7 and everything looked great, this was just a vaginal exam and culture and a chance to talk with Dr. B about what to expect over the next seven months. Yes, we're only seven months away from the arrival of Wisebaby! Eek!

I was hoping that she would say that I could stop Crinone, but, to no avail, I have ten more days of the nasty stuff. I was also hoping that she would agree with the OBs of my fellow heterozygous Factor V'ers (Wisesister and my bestie from HS) and take me off of Lovenox. That was also to no avail. I appreciate the caution, as I don't want to lose Wisebaby or end up with some sort of life-endangering clot myself. I don't appreciate the fact that I will have been on Lovenox for almost a calendar year when this is all said and done. It's expensive; it's painful; it makes me want to cry a little.

On the Factor V front, the other thing that Dr. B wants to do is schedule an inducement for week 38-39 so that she can switch me to Heparin, which is a twice a day blood thinner, a few weeks before my delivery, and then off of it, timed perfectly, for delivery. As she said, she'd rather control the situation to preserve my cardio-pulmonary system and protect Wisebaby. Again, I appreciate that, but it will definitely be a different experience than the one that I had in my head. Of course, I don't know why I should have expected anything different since nothing about our Quest for Wisebaby has played out the way it should have.

So, Wisebaby is due on July 24, so his/her arrival should be scheduled sometime between July 10-17, just in time for my niece's third birthday. Until then, I'm going to hope to continue to be tired for then next few weeks, but praying that I won't get any more sick.

Thanksgiving

After ninety-three shots, I am starting to believe that this pregnancy thing might just stick. This cycle went so much more smoothly than the last one; not just because it actually worked, but for several other reasons. I am so thankful for the following changes in circumstances:

1. We didn't have any major home repairs crop up during this IVF cycle.
2. I wasn't taking graduate classes.
3. My new boss is very easy going, so taking personal days and getting a substitute didn't stress me out.
4. Someone--or many someones--in every aspect of my life (work, church, family, friends) knew about our cycle. Having people asking after you makes dealing with an exciting and stressful situation more pleasant. 
5. As much as I bitched about Lovenox, it is relieving to know that the male Dr. B crossed every t and dotted every i in order to make this cycle perfect. Factor V probably didn't cause my early miscarriage or failed IVF cycle, but it definitely won't be the complication in this pregnancy.
6. Wisehubby bravely put his balls on the line in order to get an improvement in his sperm quality that is barely quantifiable. There is no way of knowing how important this factor was, but we got much better quality embryos this cycle.
7. Dr. B reduced my stimulation drugs down. I felt much less uncomfortable throughout the process, and we got fewer and healthier eggs.
8. Wisehubby was even sweeter this time than last, which I didn't think was possible.
9. Dr. B helped us with the costs of the lab, which is especially good considering the cost of the Crinone and Lovenox prescriptions is outrageous! Crinone costs $263 and Lovenox costs $200. The pharmacist at Walmart keeps asking if I really want my prescriptions. Uh, yeah!
10. We got a frostie! Having a frozen blastocyst takes a lot of pressure off of the transferred ones. We probably couldn't afford another fresh cycle for a few years, so it is great to know we've got a back up hanging out in a lab down the road.
11. So many of my infertile friendships are also in a good place right now. IWF, Dear Friend, and MyLazyOvaries (Twitter friend) all have had BFPs, and that is such a wonderful thing. 

Relaxing a touch

I'm relaxing a touch now that we've gotten through both blood tests, and my HCG levels are rising appropriately. I cannot wait to see the Wisebaby(ies) via ultrasound on December 5, but I guess I will have to.

BFP! BFP! BFP! BFP! BFP!

So, I swore to Wisesister when she went with me to CVS to buy pregnancy tests that I wouldn't be that crazy lady who tortured herself by taking a million pregnancy tests. It turns out that I lied.

Sunday was six days past transfer, and by 5 PM I couldn't stop myself from peeing on a stick. Luckily, I was rewarded with a nice pink line. It's faint in the picture, but I swear it is there. It is about half as dark as the control line. I repeated my tests in the afternoon on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. The only day that was really crazy to do was Wednesday, since I had already gotten the call from my RE that we were BFP according to the blood test. My HCG was 112, so that's good according to the nurse--I have zero frame of reference on this one.

Tuesday did freak me out because the line faded visibly from Monday, but I'm ninety percent sure it was because I chugged some water in order to try to pee again in a short period of time. I was done in by my over-hydration.

Since the only experiences that I've ever had with conceiving have ended with a BFN or a chemical pregnancy, I'm feeling decidedly anxious. However, always a believer in positive thinking, I am just chanting to myself BFP! BFP! BFP! all day long as I anxiously await the results from my beta HCG tomorrow to see if things are indeed rising the way they should.

Join me now: BFP! BFP! BFP! BFP! BFP!

Excitement

IVF is a crazy roller coaster ride of emotions, and this morning we are definitely in the excitement phase of the process. In the moments just before our day five transfer, we can't help but to be filled with  unbridled enthusiasm  for the possibilities. Today, we're getting pregnant. Today, we'll hear that all eight of our excellent embryos are grade A blasts, and that we'll have six for freezing. Today, our journey of infertility is finally going to turn into our journey of parenthood.

I know that all of this could be crap, and we could end up in the same place we were at, just light another $10,000, give or take--thanks again for the discounts Dr. B! But in my heart of hearts, I know that I must believe that today holds something more for us--something greater.

"For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope." - Matthew 11:28-29

Eight

I'm ecstatic about how we have eight excellent quality embryos growing on day three. Eight is an auspicious number, and I have such a good feeling about all of this. It is beginning to feel like all of Wisehubby's pain last winter is coming into fruition. Either that, or I was right when I flipped through my organized curriculum binder and told Wisehubby, "We can finally get pregnant now that I've figured out how to stay organized at work."

Retrieved, take 2!

This morning I rolled out of bed and into the car that rolled north to our fertility clinic for egg retrieval. I fell asleep quite a bit in the waiting room and again in the recovery room in which we got all situated.

My nurse was nice, but she put the IV line in too tight and it pinched my skin the whole time. I complained to the anesthesiologist who promised to get me put out soon so that I wouldn't notice.

Wisehubby was, as always, very sweet and kept coming over to kiss my forehead and hold my hand. I tried to put him on blanket patrol too, but Dr. B covered me with my blanket after walking me personally to the bathroom. Methinks the nurse may not be invited back to work there again.

Anyway, everything went smoothly, and they retrieved 19 eggs for ICSI fertilization. I'll know more tomorrow about how many fertilized. Last year, 19 fertilized initially out of a batch of 33, but Dr. B was trying to avoid getting so many immature follicles that wouldn't fertilize and grow well. Here's hoping his plan worked! I'd love to have two for transfer and a few for freezing, but I'll be happy no matter.

I pretty much slept all day after we got home, and I had some amusing dreams since Wisehubby used my lack of consciousness for a rare news marathon. I dreamt the I was riding a bus with President Obama, and we ate Kit Kats.

We had some friends come over with dinner for our weekly Homeland viewing party, so now Wisehubby and I are just chilling. Tomorrow I'll be home alone, but my parents are coming over with lunch, so I should have a pretty good day.

Final note on retrieval day: Wisehubby didn't want to be bugged with trick-or-treaters while I'm recovering, so he hung a sign on the door that reads, "Sorry, no Halloween at this house! Thanks!"

Silly Ovaries

As of this time tomorrow, I should be about twenty eggs lighter, which is no joke because as of Monday, the sonographer--who is normally one of the most confidence inspiring medical personnel I've ever met--temporarily mistook my left ovary for my right. "Silly ovaries," she quipes, "you're too close together!"

Ah, shit! My ovaries are so swollen that they had seemingly merged on the sonogram machine. What?

My meds dropped down to the bare minimum dosage for Saturday and Sunday nights, and we were rewarded on Monday with thick uterine lining, growth on the follicles that were more mature on Saturday, and slowed growth for the immature follicles. My right ovary is out-producing my left, both in size and quantity. Either way, my sonographer swears that I'm overachieving and doing great. They scheduled me for a 7:30 trigger shot on Monday, which meant no more Lupron, Follistim, or Menopur. I also dropped the Lovenox, but that will come back tomorrow night.

Hurricane Sandy kept one of my very favorite people in town for a few extra days, so instead of quietly triggering at home, like last time, I packed up my insulated lunch sack and headed out on the town. I triggered in the women's restroom at a Turkish restaurant, which is probably weirder for a Texas girl than the sports bar of yester-cycle.

Today was a great day at work, despite a rough parent phone call, and I finished it up with a late meeting with my district curriculum writing team. I work with some amazing men and women, and it was really nice to see them all in person and hear their well-wishes for our retrieval tomorrow.

I'm just a little anxious, and I'm determined not to toss and turn, so I am just watching Dancing with the Stars and trying not to notice my seriously swollen, very silly ovaries.

IVF Playlist

I've got a new playlist for this IVF cycle, so I thought I'd take you through it a bit so you can get a glimpse into Wisehubby's and my head space, as well as our sense of humor.

The first part is an ode to the money woes.

"Circumstances", Shemekia Copeland
The words say it all:  Circumstances in control of my life; circumstances gonna rule me till the day I die.

"Billionare", Glee Cast Version
Proof that I'm a nerd: I don't even know who originally sang this song, nor do I care to find out. Why? Oh, I want to be a billionaire so freaking bad, buy all of the things I never had.

"Bills, Bills, Bills", Destiny's Child
I kind of want to shout this at the male Dr. B sometimes: Can you pay my bills? Can you pay my telephone bills? Can you pay my automo'bills? Then maybe we can chill. I don't think you do, so you and me are through.
OK, here comes my fucked up section. Enjoy the cray-cray!

"Bitch Went Nuts", Ben Folds
Oh, the bitch went nuts, but everyone thought she might, oh holy fucking shit. It's the stress that makes me crazy, not the drugs. I am prone to crazy ass mood swings, even when I'm not on the hormone therapy yet. Explain that one to me!
"Artificial Nocturne", Metric

I'm as fucked up as they say. I can't fake the daytime, found an entrance to escape into the dark, got false lights for the sun. It's an artificial nocturne, an outsider's escape for a broken heart. I'm me. All that I believe, I set myself free. So take all the time you need, and let yourself be.

"Scar Tissue", Red Hot Chili Peppers
Blood loss in a bathroom stall, southern girl with a scarlet drawl. Wave good-bye to ma and pa 'cause with the birds I'll share, with the birds I'll share this lonely view. With the birds I'll share this lonely view. 

This southern girl actually stopped in a bathroom stall at a place called Country Burger to take a pregnancy test during her miscarriage. How fucked up is that?

"Breaking the Girl", Red Hot Chili Peppers
"Twisting and turning, your feelings are burning. You're breaking the girl. She meant you no harm. Think you're so clever..."

"Annie Wants a Baby", Red Hot Chili Peppers
Annie wants a baby now. Annie wants a baby any way she can. Missing pieces, she's got a lot of em.
Time decreases, I wish I thought of em before. Before it's time to close the store. Oh yeah. Installation,
A lonely sink of fame. Some liberation, the only seed we ever plant. I wanna help you but I can't. No, no.

"Hallelujah", Jeff Buckley
Baby I've been here before. I've seen this room and I've walked this floor (you know). I used to live alone before I knew you. And I've seen your flag on the marble arch and love is not a victory march. It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah. Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah...

Enough wallowing, here comes the upswing! Wisesister will be so proud! Also, can you tell that my favorite band of all time is Red Hot Chili Peppers? Weird, right?

"Factory of Faith", Red Hot Chili Peppers
Be my wife, I think you right that we should mate. Tell your friends, I got a factory of faith. Late last night, I had a dream that it was great. Tell your friends, I got a factory of faith. I got a factory of... Faith. And love.
"Let Go", Frou Frou

So let go. Jump in. Oh well whatcha waiting for? It's all right 'cause there's beauty in the breakdown.
"When We All Get to Heaven", Brad Paisley
Let us then be true and faithful, trusting, serving every day; Just one glimpse of Him in glory will the toils of life repay.

"View from Heaven", Yellowcard

And I'm sure the view from heaven beats the hell out of mine here. And if we all believe in heaven, maybe we'll make it through one more year down here.

"Way Back into Love", Hugh Grant and Haley Bennett

All I wanna do is find a way back into love, I can't make it through without a way back into love, and if I open my heart to you, I'm hoping you'll show me what to do, and if you help me to start again, you know that I'll be there for you in the end!

"Book of Love", Peter Gabriel

The book of love is long and boring and written very long ago. It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes and things we're all too young to know. But I love it when you give me things, and you, you ought to give me wedding rings.

"Such Great Heights", Iron and Wine

They will see us waving from such great heights, 'come down now,' they'll say. But everything looks perfect from far away. 'Come down now,' but we'll stay...

"Broken Road", Rascal Flatts

Now I'm just rolling home into my lover's arms. This much I know is true: That God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you.

"In the Waiting Line", Zero 7

Wasting my time in the waiting line. Do you believe in what you see? Nine to five, living lies, everyday, stealing time.

"Haven't Met You Yet", Michael Buble

I'm not surprised. Not everything lasts. I've broken my heart so many times I stopped keeping track. Talk myself in. I talk myself out. I get all worked up, then I let myself down.

I tried so very hard not to lose it. I came up with a million excuses. I thought I thought of every possibility.

And I know someday that it'll all turn out. You'll make me work so we can work to work it out. And promise you, kid, that I'll give so much more than I get. I just haven't met you yet.

I might have to wait. I'll never give up. I guess it's half timing,  And the other half's luck. Wherever you are. Whenever it's right. You'll come out of nowhere and into my life.

And I know that we can be so amazing. And baby your love is gonna change me. And now I can see every possibility...

They say all's fair in love and war, but I won't need to fight it. We'll get it right and, we'll be united...

I just haven't met you yet. Ohh, promise you, kid, to give so much than I get. (I said love, love, love, love...) I just haven't met you yet.

I just haven't met you yet.

"Many the Miles", Sara Barielles

Red letter day and I'm in a blue mood, wishing that blue would just carry me away. I've been talking to God. Don't know if it's helping or not, but surely something has got to got to got to give 'cause I can't keep waiting to live.

How far do I have to go to get to you? Many the miles, many the miles. How far do I have to go to get to you? Many the miles. But send me the miles, and I'll be happy to.

"Happiness Loves Company", Red Hot Chili Peppers

Make time for love and your happiness. The mothers of invention are the best. We all learn and struggle with some loneliness. A tender mess for everyone I guess.

"God Put a Smile on your Face", Coldplay

Where do we go? Nobody knows. Don't ever say you're on your way down when God gave you style and gave you grace and put a smile upon your face.

"Dog Days are Over", Florence and the Machine

The dog days are over. The dog days are done. The horses are coming, so you better run.

"Ever Ever After", Carrie Underwood
Storybook endings, fairy tales coming true. Deep down inside we want to believe they still do. And a secret is taught, it's our favorite part of the story. Let's just admit we all want to make it to ever ever after.

Starting your fashion, wear your heart on your sleeve. Sometimes you reach what's real just by making believe, unafraid, unashamed. There is joy to be claimed in this world. You even might wind up being glad to be you... Though the world will tell you it's not smart... The world can be yours if you let your heart believe in ever after.

No wonder your heart feels it's flying. Your head feels it's spinning. Each happy ending's a brand new beginning. Let yourself be enchanted, you just might break through to ever ever after...

"Dance, Dance, Dance", Red Hot Chili Peppers

Dance, dance, dance, dance! All night long, yes all night long! Dance, dance, dance, dance! We got strong, yes we got strong!

"What I am", will.i.am and the Sesame Street monsters

If what I am is what's in me, then I'll stay strong; that's who I'll be, and I will always be the best"me" that I can be. There's only one me, I am it. Have a dream, I'll follow it. It's up to me to try. Oh! I'm a keep my head up high, keep on reaching high! Never gonna quit! I'll be getting stronger. And nothing's gonna bring me down! (no!) Never gonna stop, gotta go. Because I know, I'll keep getting stronger.

"Damn Girl", Justin Timberlake

That's got me saying, "Damn girl, you're so fine!"

Would you like my leftover meds?

Today I got to visit with a friend of mine who has been battling infertility for over seven years; let's call her my Infertile Warrior Friend, or I.W.F. for short. She and her husband had just finished a long year of unsuccessful infertility treatments and moved halfway across the country. Just when they weren't looking, they conceived naturally. A lucky, but painful, cyst on her ovary helped keep her progesterone levels up to help support the early pregnancy and avoid yet another heart breaking miscarriage. Her HCG levels have risen well, and they've even been fortunate enough to see the little nugget on ultrasound. I.W.F. is not out of the woods on this one by any means, but she's creeping up on eight weeks of a healthy pregnancy. All of this is making me so very hopeful for our own story.

This week, I.W.F. is in town visiting family. As an act of faith, she brought her spare meds with her to give to me for my upcoming IVF cycle. Since prescriptions for infertility are a horribly expensive (not covered by insurance) part of the process, I gladly accepted this beautiful, generous gift. Right now, Wisehubby is cataloguing our stash of meds (I.W.F.'s and our own) so that we can take it to our appointment in September with the male Dr. B.

I tell you all of this because I am so grateful to have a growing network of support in my real life. It is hard to open up about infertility, but once you do, you might just be surprised by who in your life can help to hold you up and provide realistic hope when things are tough.

When I put all of our IF questions on the back burner this spring, I didn't stop my campaign of honesty. Through that, I learned that a friend from church had struggled to conceive her two beautiful baby boys. When it seems like everyone at church is trying to overpopulate the planet, she'll sometimes lean in with a snarky or sweet comment that hits the spot. These infertile friendships have meant more to me than most anyone could ever know, except for maybe the brave women who have opened up with me.

Pay it forward might seem cliche, yet I look forward to a day in the near future when, after conceiving and seeing my own little Wisebaby (babies?) on ultrasound, I can take my own leap of faith, call up Dear Friend and ask her, "Would you like my leftover meds?"

Time off for good behavior

After my last post, Wisesister called and suggested that my coping mechanisms weren't doing the trick. She commended me for using Twitter and Blogger to express my feelings, but pointed out that I was becoming increasingly negative and hopeless. She suggested that I take a break from the internet, talk to a counselor, and focus on the positive things while we waited for Wisehubby to heal. I was skeptical at first, but Wisesister gives the best advice, so I took it.

Wisehubby and I called the male Dr. B's office and asked for a referral to a counselor. We set up an appointment with Ms. B--no joke, we found another infertility medical professional with a last name beginning with B. It was a good visit, and it served to ease our fear that we were not communicating or handling our struggles in a constructive way. She commended us for being on the same page, and recommended that we try to take some time off to focus on our relationship. Our homework was to spend our summer vacation relaxing together, setting aside time once a week to have infertility check up chats. Her advice sounded shockingly like Wisesister's, so I felt a little silly for needing to spend some money to hear a second opinion.

We did great with focusing on our relationship this summer. Wisehubby and I have had little pool parties where we watch trashy TV or the Olympics several times a week. We went to movies and made new recipes. We drove 2,400 miles through Texas, New Mexico, and Colorado, camping for four days where we could not get cell phone reception.

When we were off of the grid and seeking shelter from an afternoon rain storm in Mesa Verde National Park, we talked about what our life would be like without kids. We could travel, spend time volunteering, give ourselves over to our students and Godchildren, spoil our dogs rotten, and generally have a good time. I think that talking specifically about how we could not just survive but ENJOY having our dream of children permanently deferred allowed us to relax about the future. We still want to conceive more than anything, but we know that no matter what, we've got a happy family, just the two of us.

We're nearing the end of summer, which brings new challenges to our plate. I'm at a new campus doing the same job next year, and Wisehubby is starting a new position after two years of chasing that promotion. We're also looking at the nine month post-op mark at the beginning of September, so I scheduled an IVF planning session with the male Dr. B today. It brought back a whole flood of feelings, but it wasn't overwhelming or depressing in the way it was four months ago. After all, taking time off for some good behavior was just what the doctor (Wisesister) ordered!