I'm ten days past ovulation, and nary a sign of pregnancy in sight. I'm not tired, hungry, or experiencing breast tenderness.
But of course my hopes are sky high. My doctor decided to check my progesterone, and it's at 30.5. Which is high, and also good. Anything over 15 is good.
I'm telling myself not to get my hopes too high, and, logically, this progesterone level means nothing. But it is hard to silence those hopes.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Cautious First Steps
T and I met today with our fertility doctor to get information about IVF. We're still not certain about taking that next step -- or, rather, I am not certain; T seems to have few qualms.
Even though I consider myself somewhat knowledgeable about the IVF procedure, the hour was a deluge of information, too much to digest.
This is the process, as described to me, and assuming my recollection & notes are accurate:
-Take birth control pills for 3 weeks
-Subcutaneous injections of Lupron for 10 days
-Subcutaneous injections of follicle stimulating hormone, multiple times per day, not sure how long, with monitoring ultrasounds every 2-4 days
-Subcutaneous injection of "trigger shot," timed exactly 36 hours before egg retrieval
-Surgical egg retrieval, requiring anesthesia
-Beginning on the retrieval day, intramuscular shots of progesterone, continuing for up to 12 weeks if pregnancy results
-Fertilization at the lab after retrieval
-Wait 3-5 days after retrieval for embryo development
-Transfer of embryos into uterus
-Wait, hope
After this, a 40-50% chance of a viable birth.
There are also ethical issues to be addressed: How many embryos will we transfer? What should be done with unused frozen embryos -- discarded, donated to science, donated to another couple, preserved? What should be done with those frozen embryos if one of us dies, or we divorce?
It is a lot to take in. My head is spinning. But we won't make the decision just yet.
Even though I consider myself somewhat knowledgeable about the IVF procedure, the hour was a deluge of information, too much to digest.
This is the process, as described to me, and assuming my recollection & notes are accurate:
-Take birth control pills for 3 weeks
-Subcutaneous injections of Lupron for 10 days
-Subcutaneous injections of follicle stimulating hormone, multiple times per day, not sure how long, with monitoring ultrasounds every 2-4 days
-Subcutaneous injection of "trigger shot," timed exactly 36 hours before egg retrieval
-Surgical egg retrieval, requiring anesthesia
-Beginning on the retrieval day, intramuscular shots of progesterone, continuing for up to 12 weeks if pregnancy results
-Fertilization at the lab after retrieval
-Wait 3-5 days after retrieval for embryo development
-Transfer of embryos into uterus
-Wait, hope
After this, a 40-50% chance of a viable birth.
There are also ethical issues to be addressed: How many embryos will we transfer? What should be done with unused frozen embryos -- discarded, donated to science, donated to another couple, preserved? What should be done with those frozen embryos if one of us dies, or we divorce?
It is a lot to take in. My head is spinning. But we won't make the decision just yet.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Adoption Education
T and I attended the first of the many education classes required to be able to adopt in our state. It was a long day, and an emotional one.
About 30, maybe more, people attended. Some couples with biological children, but most not. Some couples who chose adoption as the first and only step, but most not. It was reassuring, in a way, to be in a room filled with people who have some idea what we have been going through. A better idea than do we, even - many of them have progressed much further in fertility treatments.
Between lecture, small group discussions, videos, and presentations from adoptive parents, the day was emotionally exhausting. We heard from a married couple and a birthmother about their open adoption experience -- how and why she chose the couple, how they negotiated the openness. Of course, the agency put on the most ideal example. They have such a warm and open and caring relationship; the seven year old daughter even attended her birthmother's wedding last year. I think if everyone could be assured of having this kind of experience, adoption wouldn't be nearly so scary.
I also got a chance to speak with them further over lunch. The adoptive mother answered a question someone had by mentioning, in the course of her answer, "I know I am her mother." I asked the birthmother whether that was hard to hear. Not at all, she replied. "I knew this was their baby. It was like I was carrying her for them."
Of course, it was not all sunshine and roses. Part of the education was to talk about risk factors - the possibility of fetal alcohol exposure, drug exposure, unknown health problems, mental issues. It was an honest and tough look - and only the first of many classes.
What was most interesting to me was T's reaction at the end of the day. He is still on the fence, more so than I, about adoption. But something about the day's discussions flipped a switch in him. I have traditionally been fairly open about our fertility struggles, whereas T has told no one. But that evening, in a group of friends, while I had stepped away no less, T opened up and shared his story. I was stunned.
We have a lot to think about.
About 30, maybe more, people attended. Some couples with biological children, but most not. Some couples who chose adoption as the first and only step, but most not. It was reassuring, in a way, to be in a room filled with people who have some idea what we have been going through. A better idea than do we, even - many of them have progressed much further in fertility treatments.
Between lecture, small group discussions, videos, and presentations from adoptive parents, the day was emotionally exhausting. We heard from a married couple and a birthmother about their open adoption experience -- how and why she chose the couple, how they negotiated the openness. Of course, the agency put on the most ideal example. They have such a warm and open and caring relationship; the seven year old daughter even attended her birthmother's wedding last year. I think if everyone could be assured of having this kind of experience, adoption wouldn't be nearly so scary.
I also got a chance to speak with them further over lunch. The adoptive mother answered a question someone had by mentioning, in the course of her answer, "I know I am her mother." I asked the birthmother whether that was hard to hear. Not at all, she replied. "I knew this was their baby. It was like I was carrying her for them."
Of course, it was not all sunshine and roses. Part of the education was to talk about risk factors - the possibility of fetal alcohol exposure, drug exposure, unknown health problems, mental issues. It was an honest and tough look - and only the first of many classes.
What was most interesting to me was T's reaction at the end of the day. He is still on the fence, more so than I, about adoption. But something about the day's discussions flipped a switch in him. I have traditionally been fairly open about our fertility struggles, whereas T has told no one. But that evening, in a group of friends, while I had stepped away no less, T opened up and shared his story. I was stunned.
We have a lot to think about.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Yet Again
Yet again, I'd gotten my hopes up high, even as I told myself not to. That internal monologue is hard to silence, that glimmer of hope impossible to extinguish. 'Am I feeling nauseated? More so than I normally do at this stage of my cycle? No, this is typical. But what if it's not?'
Yet again, this time over a lovely outdoor breakfast with my family, on a weekend trip away, just before a hike, the cramps started. Another failed cycle.
My doctor now doubled my Clomid dosage from 50 mg to 100 mg, and I don't know why. I'm nervous about increasing the Clomid after it caused a cyst on an ovary not too long ago. I'm also nervous that it will, as usual, make me ovulate crazy-early, and specifically while T is out of town. But here I go, another try, yet again.
Yet again, this time over a lovely outdoor breakfast with my family, on a weekend trip away, just before a hike, the cramps started. Another failed cycle.
My doctor now doubled my Clomid dosage from 50 mg to 100 mg, and I don't know why. I'm nervous about increasing the Clomid after it caused a cyst on an ovary not too long ago. I'm also nervous that it will, as usual, make me ovulate crazy-early, and specifically while T is out of town. But here I go, another try, yet again.
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