I've never really been a patient person--that's more a skill my husband possesses than me. I've always been the type of person who likes to act swiftly and get a fast result. It's a tact that's served me well. Up until now...Having been infertile for a while now (I'll be celebrating my one year anniversary in two weeks), you'd think my outlook would have changed. Nope, no chance....So this 2ww will be torture.
Right now, I'm now 4dpiu and time seems to be dragging on. I've had no real symptoms to speak of. The results weren't as great as I had hoped. My right tube produced two follies (19 and 20mm) and my husband gave a great sample, but still I can't help but feel that IVF will be our only answer. I don't know what's wrong with me. Why can't I be more hopeful?
It bothers me that I'm being so pessimistic because I'm not usually this way. We know nothing yet... nothing good, nothing bad. Some would say I'm in the blind blissful phase where anything is possible, so I should be happy--but I just can't seem to settle in. I was so optimistic and positive during the inject/IUI process taking everything in stride but now that all seems to be fading away. It's like my brain is beginning to wake up to our realities and it's now trying to mentally prep me for an upcoming dissapointment.
I'm due to get my period the day after Christmas--which will either make this holiday the happiest ever, or one of the worst ones I've ever endured. To add insult to the injury, B and I will be spending the week of Christmas with my parents and my brother and SIL. Don't get me wrong, my parents are lovely. And they've been really supportive. My brother and SIL, on the other hand, are hard for me to bear. They are awaiting the birth of their first child in Feb (they got pregnant accidentally last year and made a big deal about how upsetting it was for them) and while I know it's a horrible thing to say, I really couldn't hate them more. Yes, I know hate is a strong word to use for anyone, not to mention your family, and I'm sorry to use it, but there's such an intensity behind the feelings I have that sadly, I think it's the best one to use.
It's a complicated situation but the short version is that my brother and I have been on the outs for years. He's always been a very self-involved person but I overlooked that because as his big sister I was always automatically overprotective of him. Then he did something extremely hurtful to me two years ago and never apologized nor owned up to it. It shattered our relationship. My SIL, who's six years his junior, thinks my brother walks on water, so when our relationship fell apart, she also ostricized me.
So now I wait...I wait wondering which will be worse--the dissapointment of negative IUI result--or having to be around my pregnant brother and SIL during Christmas. There's just something about Christmas that makes me feel the sting of infertility more. I don't know what it is.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
From the beginning...
What's crappier than being infertile? Being infertile during Christmas.
Growing up, I never thought of myself as the motherly type. In fact, looking back, I was pretty cavelier about the whole idea of parenting. I just assumed everything would happen exactly as I wanted, whenever I wanted it to. If I could go back in time and slap myself I would.
A bit of background: My husband B and I met in college. Aside from being tall, dark and handsome, B was kind, patient and completely supportive of my dreams to become a writer in New York City. Like most couples in their early 20s, we were blindly in love. So much so, that he moved to NYC with me immediately after our college graduation. He longed to be an architect, I wanted to be a writer. We began climbing the corporate ladder and got married in 2004. Three months after we were married I went to the doctor for what I thought was a UTI. To my horror, my gyn ordered an MRI which showed a tumor the size of a grapefruit on my left ovary. The good news: The growth was benign (I underwent a laparatomy which took 8 weeks to fully recover from)--the the hip-to-hip scar I sport is a sizable souvenir). The bad news: It practically destroyed my left ovary. While this experience left me tramatized and scared that I'd never be able to conceive I still wasn't ready to become a mother (and didn't feel I had enough strength to face possible infertility). I put my head down and really dove into my career. Things continued on like this for years.... until 2010 when B and I finally decided to start a family.
After a year of normal ovulation but strange spotting (my once regular period began to be prefaced by 7-8 days of light brown spotting) and no luck (and using the clear blue easy fertility monitor), I scheduled an appointment with a prominent RE in the city. After an endless round of tests we got our diagnosis: Low morphology for him (2%) and low AMH (0.4) and blocked left tube for me. As I had secretely suspected, the surgery had seriously compromised my left ovary. Getting the diagnosis of diminished ovarian reserve was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I fell into a black depression while B refused to belief what we'd been told. He was crestfallen. So much so, that it took him 6 months to come to terms with our infertility.
We went back for a second opinion this past November. Our new RE, Dr. Nice, is optimistic (even going so far to believe he doesn't think I'm actually formally yet in DOR) and now for the first time, so are we.
The latest: I just finished my first IUI with injects (Gonal F pen) and am currently in the 2WW. I'm set to start my period the day after Christmas ( I know, sucky timing!).
Since I've always loved to write, I decided to start a blog to help me cope. Infertility is such a hard road and my heart and support goes out to each and every person who's ever had to deal with it. Here's to all of us making it to the other side.....
Growing up, I never thought of myself as the motherly type. In fact, looking back, I was pretty cavelier about the whole idea of parenting. I just assumed everything would happen exactly as I wanted, whenever I wanted it to. If I could go back in time and slap myself I would.
A bit of background: My husband B and I met in college. Aside from being tall, dark and handsome, B was kind, patient and completely supportive of my dreams to become a writer in New York City. Like most couples in their early 20s, we were blindly in love. So much so, that he moved to NYC with me immediately after our college graduation. He longed to be an architect, I wanted to be a writer. We began climbing the corporate ladder and got married in 2004. Three months after we were married I went to the doctor for what I thought was a UTI. To my horror, my gyn ordered an MRI which showed a tumor the size of a grapefruit on my left ovary. The good news: The growth was benign (I underwent a laparatomy which took 8 weeks to fully recover from)--the the hip-to-hip scar I sport is a sizable souvenir). The bad news: It practically destroyed my left ovary. While this experience left me tramatized and scared that I'd never be able to conceive I still wasn't ready to become a mother (and didn't feel I had enough strength to face possible infertility). I put my head down and really dove into my career. Things continued on like this for years.... until 2010 when B and I finally decided to start a family.
After a year of normal ovulation but strange spotting (my once regular period began to be prefaced by 7-8 days of light brown spotting) and no luck (and using the clear blue easy fertility monitor), I scheduled an appointment with a prominent RE in the city. After an endless round of tests we got our diagnosis: Low morphology for him (2%) and low AMH (0.4) and blocked left tube for me. As I had secretely suspected, the surgery had seriously compromised my left ovary. Getting the diagnosis of diminished ovarian reserve was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I fell into a black depression while B refused to belief what we'd been told. He was crestfallen. So much so, that it took him 6 months to come to terms with our infertility.
We went back for a second opinion this past November. Our new RE, Dr. Nice, is optimistic (even going so far to believe he doesn't think I'm actually formally yet in DOR) and now for the first time, so are we.
The latest: I just finished my first IUI with injects (Gonal F pen) and am currently in the 2WW. I'm set to start my period the day after Christmas ( I know, sucky timing!).
Since I've always loved to write, I decided to start a blog to help me cope. Infertility is such a hard road and my heart and support goes out to each and every person who's ever had to deal with it. Here's to all of us making it to the other side.....
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