Support Group Success

For the past four months I have gone to my support group and sat there, reading. No one showed up, and I went home. It was very awkward at times, sometimes discouraging, and sometimes I felt personal rejection. What am I doing wrong? Why doesn’t anyone want to come talk about infertility with me?

Well this week was different. This week, two women came. It was incredible. I can’t believe how quickly we bonded. It wasn’t awkward at all and we talked for an hour and fifteen minutes - having just met each other - and we could have stayed longer.

I’m not sure what other circumstances could bond women so quickly. Immediately we had a whole world in common.

It was beautiful.

Period complaints and Mother's Day

Last night, I was in the bathroom, doing my thang. When I was done, I wiped. (I find this is, generally, the hygienic and comfortable thing to do.) A split second after I dropped the toilet paper in the bowl, I thought to myself “Wait a minute, was that spotting?”

Then I sat on the toilet and debated for a minute. Was it spotting? I think it was spotting. Maybe I should pick it back up and check.

That’s right folks. I actually wondered if I should reach my hand into the toilet water – the toilet water I had JUST URINATED IN MOMENTS AGO – to examine the wet TP. Jesus. This is a new low, even for me.

The reason I was so excited about the spotting is that I thought it might be implantation. I estimated that I ovulated last Friday, based on my sore boobs, etc. We had sex on Saturday, so it would have been decent timing.

But no, this morning I woke up to a full flow.

For those of you playing along at home, that means my last cycle was 17 days.

What’s the point really? Just to frustrate me? This one will probably be 50 just to confuse me even more thoroughly.

I thoroughly fail at the period thing. I take 2000 mgs of Metformin every godforsaken day and yet I have a 17 day cycle. I hate you, PCOS.

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In other news, this pisses me off. “Instead of dwelling on what you don’t have…go on a bike ride.” Fuck that. Usually, people can’t go on bike rides on Mother’s day because they’re forced to spend the whole goddamn day celebrating moms, which usually involves going out to brunch and seeing thousands of happy families and spending lots of money and maybe even traveling.

Doesn’t leave a lot of room for leisurely eating breakfast or baking cupcakes.

We’re not allowed to just ignore our moms on Mother’s day (well, I’m allowed to ignore my MIL this year because she’ll be out of the country, but that’s just a one-time blessing by the grace of god or someone who likes me up there). We have to celebrate moms and our SILs who are moms and our grandmas and our aunts and just doing that reminds us that EVERY WOMAN IN THE WORLD HAS A CHILD EXCEPT US.

We spend every day trying not to “dwell on what we don’t have.” Mother’s day just makes it especially hard.

I usually like that writer’s posts, and she is apparently an IFer herself, but seriously. You can’t tell someone who just had a miscarriage to go on a bike ride and get over it.

Surprise IFers

For a year and a half I have been teaching private yoga lessons to a group of five women in my town. They are close friends, and spending so much time with them has allowed me to feel like part of their circle, in a small way. I have gradually opened up about my fertility issues with them, as I felt it was best to be honest when cancelling class due to my lap, etc.

One woman has five children, three and then a set of twins. For the first year that I knew her, I felt a little uncomfortable talking to her about my struggles to conceive, as she was obviously a fertile myrtle.

Then, in December when I had my HSG, she mentioned she had to have one, too. I guess they tried for a while for their first and the HSG cleared out some debris in her tubes. I was pretty surprised when I found this out.

After my HSG, she was the one who alerted me to the difference between a bicornuate and septate uterus, who told me that her daughter had multiple miscarriages because of a septum.

Then, a few months ago, she told me that her daughter had an ectopic pregnancy and had lost a whole tube and ovary. My heart broke for her.

I hadn’t heard an update on the daughter lately, so last night I asked how she was doing. She told me, and then asked how we were doing. I said good, that we were looking forward to going to see an RE in a few weeks and told her what city he’s in.

She immediately got excited, and I assumed she was going to tell me a success story of one of her friends (I have heard SO MANY of these about this RE, and I’m so excited to join the ranks).

At this point, she took me aside and said “No one knows this, but we went to him.” I guess they had their first three kids easily, and then suffered “miscarriage after miscarriage” for seven years trying for a fourth. They wanted to expand their family so badly. At the age of 41, they decided what the hell, they’d try a round of IVF.

She got pregnant with her twins through IVF at 41! And here I was writing her off as a smug fertile! I also assumed that, as a Catholic, she condemned IVF and would judge me if I did it.

You really never know about people.

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Three weeks from today we get to meet the man who WILL get us pregnant. It can’t get here quickly enough.

Ovulation Conundrums

There has been a little theory niggling it's way around my tiny brain. It has been gaining steam lately and I thought I'd share it here and see what you ladies think.

Theory: the Ovidrel trigger shot does not make me ovulate.

Evidence: remember this post? This was right after my first experience with Ovidrel, during our clomid/timed intercourse cycle last October, and I felt, very confidently, that I did not ovulate. I frantically consulted Dr. Google and was told that everyone ovulates on the trigger shot.

Evidence: when the October cycle failed, I went in for a CD3 ultrasound and was told I had a cyst and we couldn't proceed.

Evidence: January IUI, I still felt no Ovidrel symptoms, and didn't go for a CD3 ultrasound because of my impending lap. No idea if I had a cyst or not.

Evidence: this post, in which I complain that my natural cycles yield way more symptoms than medicated cycles.

Evidence: April IUI failed, no Ovidrel symptoms, a giant cyst.

Evidence: EVERY TIME we try to do two treatment cycles back-to-back, we are benched by a cyst. EVERY TIME I am ovulating on my own, I have symptoms. Lots of CM, sore nipples, etc. I have had these symptoms the past few days, which happened to be CDs 10-13. I never have these symptoms on Ovidrel.

And then, oddly enough, there's a cyst on my ovary. Which should have left and ventured toward my tubes. But, it didn't.

Anyone have any experience on this? Perhaps I need a higher dose of Ovidrel? Maybe I need  a different drug to trigger ovulation? Am I just making all this up? Maybe synthetic ovulation just has different symptoms than natural ovulation.

Hrmpfh.

Two book reviews: Good Eggs and Waiting for Daisy

In April, I read two books about infertility. I thought I’d review them here for your benefit.

 

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Good Eggs: A Memoir by Phoebe Potts

 

This was a whimsical book with adorable illustrations. It was my initiation into the graphic novel genre and it was an enjoyable experience. My favorite thing about it is that she rewards you for looking closely at the drawings – you’ll know what I mean when you read it.

 

I liked reading about Potts’s journey through depression and infertility. My only complaint about this book is that it is touted as a memoir about infertility, and really, she doesn’t say all that much about it. I’d say half or slightly less of the book is infertility-related. I was hoping for a little more subject matter on the topic.

 

Overall though, it’s a fun book, charming, a quick read, and you won’t want to put it down. The Huffington post has a nice little slideshow about the book here.

 

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Waiting for Daisy: A Tale of Two Continents, Three Religions, Five Infertility Doctors, an Oscar, an Atomic Bomb, a Romantic Night, and One Woman's Quest to Become a Mother by Peggy Orenstein

 

I enjoyed this book immensely. Orenstein’s writing style is familiar and easy to read. Her journey is so real and heartfelt. I would say the majority of this book is about infertility, although it’s not without its tangents.

 

My favorite part of the book comes while Orenstein is in Japan suffering yet another miscarriage. She points out that Japanese has a word for aborted, miscarried, and stillborn children, while in English we just call them “my lost baby” or “the baby I miscarried” or “my child born sleeping.” I thought it was fascinating that we literally deny the existence of these losses my refusing to give the children a name. Equally fascinating is the relationship Japan has with abortion.

 

I would recommend this book to any and all of you.

IUI #3 cancelled

Cyst on left ovary (24mm). The ultrasound tech said she couldn't believe I haven't had pain since there seems to be a lot of fluid, indicating I've had at least one other large cyst burst recently.

I'm relieved. I didn't really want to cycle very much. I need some time off.

Thank you for your input yesterday. I spoke to a nurse this morning about getting some anti-depressants. She was very kind and understanding. We will see how it goes.

I need advice.

Here is something I have been pondering for several days.

Am I depressed?

My thoughts are so scattered and awkward that I can only express them to you in list form. So here is what I know.

1. I have a heavy family history of anxiety/depression disorders. My paternal grandmother has been on anti-depressants for 15-20 years. My maternal grandmother was hospitalized more than once for anxiety attacks. And it doesn’t end there (aunts, great-grandparents, cousins, etc).
2. I have been diagnosed with “major depression” by two therapists, each of whom I saw for a year before giving up on them, and neither of whom ever mentioned the idea of medication.
3. I am not, currently, the person I want to be. I am an angry, upset, rude, unkind, pimply, tired version of her.
4. I would rather stay home than go out into the world and inflict my negativity on people I care about.
5. I don’t feel that I will ever be completely happy, and I never truly feel worthy of friendship or love.
6. I can’t stop clenching my teeth at night. My jaw is always sore in the morning. This has been going on for about four months.
7. I’m losing interest in things I used to love. I don’t want to teach or take yoga anymore, even though a year ago yoga was my life. I don’t read as much as I used to. I dread book club because I have to see my pregnant friend there. I make excuses not to go to the gym even though I love going.
8. I’d rather stay home and watch Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix than do anything. This is partly because, seriously, it’s an awesome show, but also because it allows me to ignore the world and my problems. I am already terrified of what I will do when I’ve watched it all.
9. I’m sick right now. So the past few days, of course I haven’t felt like doing anything. I’m also just getting over my latest BFN.
10. I’m going through infertility. Isn’t it natural to be sad all the time? But at the same time…
11. …When I look back on my life, I realize that I am sad or angry most of the time. There are a lot of photos of me on very happy days when I remember feeling completely exhausted or worried about something else. Not enjoying myself like I look.
12. My husband says I am miserable more than I am happy.

So what’s the solution? I’m over therapy. It hasn’t helped and I have enough medical bills as it is. Do I tough it out or do I ask for anti-depressants? How do you ask for those? Can I just call up Dr. Lovely and tell her what I just told you and ask for a prescription? Are there any that are pregnancy-friendly? How hard is it to get off of them eventually? Any advice on this topic would be very helpful. My husband is ready for me to try medication. I don’t know if I’m ready.

How do I know when I’m ready?