1st Sunday of Advent

Started out the day with a bang, and a huge fight with DH over being late to church. Wonderful. I'm such a good Catholic.

But I felt the need to redeem myself and take a tag from the Jesse Tree in the narthex after Mass. While reading through the different gift requests, I realized there were no baby or child gifts left- - thus is the trade-off for sleeping in and going to the latest Mass of the weekend.

Just as I was about to pick one that said, "Men's flannel pajamas," I saw a "Maternity Shirt" tag. I picked it. Why? Two reasons, really. First, I'm sure this woman will be getting many supplies for the newborn, once it is born. People tend to be more generous when it comes to babies (hence the lack of baby gifts at the last Mass). But the pregnancy itself often goes without charity. Second, in giving a gift to a women with child, her gratitude would be quite possibly the best prayer for my fertility.

And now I will commence the Christmas tree set-up, and house decorating. Now that I've let out the tears, I'm looking forward to it :)

Bad Day

I'd like to start this post by expressing my thanks to God for limiting the number of these types of days that I've had lately. I truly feel the power of prayer in my life, and know that one of the answers to my prayers has been that I have, in general, felt much more at peace with infertility, with my life and circumstances, and with myself.

But... today has not been good. I'm actually currently in a mini-breakdown. (I felt like what better time to vent about it on my blog and get it all out, ya know?)
I woke up in a funk, and decided to just sleep in, then watch tv. As if I have nothing else more productive to do. (I have assignments I need to submit to my Creighton Supervisor, my house SERIOUSLY needs cleaning, etc.)

While watching tv, my black cat, Al, decides to jump up on the couch... except that she jumps right on MY FACE. I have to believe she didn't know I was there, or didn't know that was where my face was... because if I believed otherwise I may have had to hurt her. She was startled, and ran across MY FACE to jump up to the back of the couch, and in the process, scratched me very badly across the neck, jaw, and cheek. I mean, DEEP gash.

It has stopped bleeding, but (and I hate to admit this), I was crying so hard because for the 1st time in my life as an adult, I had really nice skin. All of these antibiotics I've been on have made my skin so nice and clear, whereas with PCOS I tend to get breakouts around O and around AF. (By the time 1 breakout clears, it's time for the next one.) So, now my skin is clear, and I have this huge scar on my face and only God knows how long it will be there. Why? Why did this have to happen?

So, I finally got over that... and watched some more tv (after cutting my cat's nails, along with Simba's, the kitten's nails). And then I just started to get extremely depressed. I turned on EWTN and while watching some 30-minute special, just broke down and completely lost it. It dawned on me that tomorrow is the day. The day of the year that I dread the most. The day that I put up my Christmas decorations (1st Sunday of Advent, every year). Now, some infertile women may find Christmas Eve itself to be the worst, or Christmas Day. Or New Year's, or their birthday or anniversary. Not I. The worst for me is the 1st Sunday of Advent, when I decorate my house, listening to religious Christmas music and envision the FOLLOWING Christmas with a baby. It's the only way I can get through the day. To make myself this promise, as if I have the power to make it come true. But when hanging each little silver bell, red ribbon, and glittery Christmas tree ball, the image of doing the same thing with my baby close by is enough to keep me sane and dare I say even happy throughout the entire Christmas season.

It almost sounds as if I have lost some hope. This is not the case. I have more hope now than ever. But reaching this milestone, I need to mourn my last year's promise... which has not come true. Not only no baby, but no pregnancy this Christmas.

As I had myself a good old fashioned ugly cry, I hear EWTN in the background, and the words, "When you feel like God has thrown you into a ditch and forgotten about you..." - - I turned it up, to see a priest looking directly into the camera lens- directly into me. He continues, "I know that the very best person I can put my trust in, the one who can truly understand my suffering, is Mary. I unite my suffering to hers, and through her, to her Son's." My God! This 15 second segue speech was meant for me! God has not forsaken me. He has not forsaken any of us. He is watching over us, holding us, and Mary is comforting us.

It amazes me that even when I'm ALLOWING myself to re-enter those darkest places, and become re-consumed in utter despair and self-pity, Jesus is there to ensure that I don't sink into it. He pulls me back into His love and glory.

Just writing this blog has made me stop crying. I think I'll be alright... no. I know I'll be alright.

May God Bless all of us, especially those continuing to struggle with infertility, this Christmas season. May Mary, our Mother, hold us close to her Immaculate Heart and give us peace.

Presenting, my New and Improved Uterus!

Well, now my uterus is so clean you can eat off of it. Though I'm not quite sure you want to. But good to know it's now an option, anyway.

I've just completed my 10-day uterine washes (lavages, since they like to pretend it's a fancy French procedure or something), and 12 days of IV antibiotics. DH finishes his high dose of oral antibiotics on Sunday, and he finished his 10 prostate injections today. Woo Hoo! We are now beginning Phase II: 2 months of oral antibiotics (lower dose, but still probably enough to clean dozens of horse's uteruses... uteri? Whatever.)

The best news? I was concerned that we may be out of the game for a long time. I had heard from other Dr. Toth patients that it can take up to 9 months for the immune system to fully recuperate after the treatment, and was thinking he would tell us to wait 9 months. Well, it DOES take up to 9 months to fully recuperate, BUT there is no harm or disadvantage to TTC before the 9 months. Basically, he just said that with each passing month the chances get better and better up to 9 months (after finishing orals). Sooooo....??? The BIG NEWS of the day is that we can TTC again after our orals, at the end of January!! YIPPEE!!!! I feel like I got an early Christmas present when he told us this!

He did recommend a post-coital test in January, and an HSG, though the former is more important since I've already done 2 HSGs fairly recently (one selective which I know unblocked the partial blockages that the other showed I "didn't" have). He also wants me to have an u/s of the secretory-phase endometrium, to check that the lining is nice and thick, and 3 layers deep. Then? We'll have all of our ducks lined up, and KNOW that nothing is standing in our way! (OK, now I have that cheesy 80's song in my head, "Nothing's gonna stop us now." That song is almost as bad as the movie it is highlighted in, Mannequin. Andrew McCarthy, WHAT were you thinking?)

I am so incredibly STOKED right now! I mean, here I was thinking I'd have to wait until November of next year!! This fear was coupled with the fact that we recently discovered my Grandma's colon cancer is back, and more aggressive this time around. We know there's no getting rid of it this time, and now we are just buying her time. It's been a rough few days around here, but on top of everything I was feeling so horrible that I may not be able to show her the miracle she's been praying so hard for, which she specifically wanted to stay on this Earth to see. (See my earlier blog about Grandma.)

But she is out of the hospital and back home today, after a pretty painful procedure getting her stint (sp?) put in her kidney through her back. (They couldn't go in through the front because the cancer spread to her bladder and was causing so much bleeding when they tried.) She is still sounding strong and like herself. Her exact words when I called to speak to her today were, "Well... I guess God never gives us what we can't handle." She is truly amazing. Please say a prayer for her health for me. Thank you.

And the best part of my evening still remains... I get to SHOWER tonight!! I've been taking baths, and washing my hair like every other day (it's quite the undertaking with only 1 free arm that can get wet, let me tell you). Not that I need to bathe at all, since I'm so loaded up on antibiotics I could probably jump in the East River and it would turn crystal clear. Seriously, I SMELL like antibiotics. I'm oozing it out of every orifice at this point. I am no longer a dirty whore. I am a clean whore. And don't you forget it.

One Day More

(Little homage to my favorite song from Les Mis, there.)

Today, I got to meet "Finding Joy in Every Journey!" It was SOOOOO nice for DH and I to sit and talk with her and her DH today IRL. Just to give you a little background, we are both Creighton Practitioners (she works with the Dr. who performed my surgery!), we both have been NaPro patients ourselves for a number of years, and we are both now currently being treated by Dr. Toth in NYC. We talked so long at the restaurant that the waitstaff tried to shoo us out by playing The Beatles really loudly! (Obviously they don't know me. I love The Beatles. And I got my mother's loud Italian genes.)
I think it was really nice for the guys, too. I mean, here we all are (us IF women) on blogs, message boards, and email discussion groups... they literally have no outlets for this stuff. I was so pleased to see DH talking and giving/getting advice with another man going through exactly the same things (at the same time).

So tomorrow is Doomsday. We will find out the inevitable "When can we TTC again" answer along with other pressing issues (none quite as pressing as the 1st, of course). I'll update when I can...

If Infertility Can't Kill Me Emotionally, it will Kill Me Physically

Today is NOT my best of days. Another nurse had to come out to the house today to try again to get the mid-line catheter in (apparently the one the 1st nurse put in is not a mid-line, but a smaller peripheral line which needs to be changed every few days. This, for some reason, is against the home health agency's policy).

So, the nurse (Robert) showed up at 6:30, after giving me explicit instructions over the phone last night to drink tons of water and put a heating pad on my left arm for an hr before he got there. I, the ever-dutiful student, did as I was told. (Robert also said he's been doing this 30 years, and basically implied that he would not only get the line in my "small" veins, but get it in 1-2-3.)

He took great care to prep me, get all of the materials he needed in gear, etc. etc. Then he told me that the mid-line is a bit larger than most needles I'm used to, so it would prick a little more than usual. I pointed him to the vein on the corner that is always used for blood draws, and he said he would try the larger one in the middle first (that should have been my first clue). First Owie- needle goes in. Next Owie, needle pokes around all over the place sticking veins, arteries, and muscle. After about 7 minutes (no, I shit you not), he takes the needle out (Third Owie). "I'll try the smaller vein on the corner." Ya think?

Needle goes in again. Owie again. Needle pokes around, more violently and determined this time. I see out of the corner of my eyes (since I refused to look down at my arm) that Robert has sweat beads trickling all down his forehead over his mask. Niiiiice. Needle keeps poking. Owie. Owie. Owie. Finally the poking stops. I hear the sound of a tiny container opening near my arm- Alright! That must be the saline, which means the needle is in! Then I feel it trickle down my elbow. Oops, he must have spilled. Needle comes out. Huh? "That didn't go in?" "Nope, I thought I had it for a second." "I felt a trickle, what was that blood?" (Haha, as if it was blood!) "Yup."

And then I look down to see the massacre that has taken place on my poor left arm. Blood was EVERYWHERE! Damn! And just as I'm ready to sit up and go run for an ice pack, I see Robert opening another needle...

"I'm gonna get this sucker," he says, or something along those lines.

Are you freaking kidding me????? Oh but I assure you, he was not freaking kidding me.

Alcohol swab all over my bloodied, punctured arm. OWIE. Beta-iodine all over my punctured arm. OWIE. And in goes the needle for one more attack, this time in my already severely butchered and bruised arm. OWIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! At this point my face is in such obvious, tortuous pain, that DH started saying, "Hon, just say something if you want to stop, you don't have to do this." "Um," (I stagger), "ye-e-eah, if th-ii-is could be our lll-ast attempt, mayb-b-e?" "Yup," says Robert, still hell-bent on proving that he is the World's Very Best Mid-Line Catheter Inserter. Or maybe he's just a sadist. My vote is for the latter.

At this point, my veins have completely collapsed and hidden from this guy's wrath (can you blame them??)- they were probably somewhere in my legs or something. So 5 minutes later, out comes needle, and out spews blood all over the place.

And here I sit with a huge, bloody gauze pad and ice pack wrapped around my mutilated appendage. OW. IE.

Like I said, not my best of days.

Ouch.

Cervical scraping. Ouch. Note to self: next time, don't say, "I'm starting to feel a little sleepy" when getting drugs administered before this barbaric procedure. "Little sleepy" does not equal "totally and completely out of it, you can now do with me what you like," and for this you definitely want the latter.

My poor cervix :(

You Want to Scrape my What, Now?

Ok, so Day 2 of Dr. Toth treatment is now complete. Here's an update on what went down yesterday:

We were driven in to the city by my father-in-law, since DH wasn't sure how well he'd react to the prostate injections (can you blame him?)- Dr. Toth sat us down and explained exactly what he would be doing with each of us, and gave us a run-down of all of the medications that were being used. For my uterine lavage, it is made up of Gentamycin, Ampicillin, Difulcan (to prevent yeast), and then a Flagyl cream is inserted after the wash is complete. For DH's injections, there is Levoquin and some other antibiotic I can't remember now (is it obvious that I'm self-interested?), and a bit of lidocaine to numb the area.

I had taken 2 Advil before we got there, expecting the worst. My HSG and endometrial biopsy were some of the worst cramping experiences of my life, and I was expecting an hour-long HSG. He assured me that he would make us both as comfortable as possible.

Sure enough, once the catheter was in and the machine started dispensing the wash, I couldn't feel a thing! Maybe if I concentrated really hard, I could feel tiny twinges in my lower abdomen, but not really cramping. Phew! What a relief!!

DH, on the other hand, got the bad end of the deal. His prostate already had so much calcification around it, and this is what causes most of his discomfort. The injection itself only lasts a second, but the aftermath feels, as he described, like a hot coal in his butt :( Poor guy.

After we finished (my lavage lasts about 50 minutes, so I am re-reading "Like Water for Chocolate" while I lay in the stirrups), we were driven back home, and I had about 10 minutes to quickly use the bathroom and get my stuff together for CCD class! (Somehow I had forgotten to schedule eating of any kind in my day. So not like me.) So I drove back out to CCD, came home just in time to eat a quick dinner and await our meds and the nurse from the home health agency. They were due to arrive around 6:00-7:00pm to hook up our IVs.

By 7:15, they were both there (meds and nurse), and the nurse was a nice little Polish woman who was very patient and caring :) This home health thing is really nice... they really hook you up (no pun intended)! It must really stink to be homebound as an elderly or sickly person, but this option is amazing for them!

I got my IV put in first. She saw that my veins are very small, and that I don't qualify for the largest needle which would have been needed for the full 10-day treatment. Instead, she put in a smaller needle that she will then change every 3-4 days. No biggy.

DH was next. After 3 unsuccessful attempts (and let me tell you, this woman was VERY attentive and knew what she was doing!), she gave up! Poor DH has horrible veins that you can't even see!! She recommended we go to the hospital today to get flouroscopy x-ray IV hook-up.

By midnight last night we were finally all set, and ready to go to bed after a LOOOOONG day. It was at that time that I realized, hey? How am I going to get my sweater off?? (I have the IV in my right arm, attached to tubing that leads to a pump and a bag, both of which are in a fanny pack about 12" x 6" big!! No way those were fitting through my sleeve!!) The nurse hadn't taught us how to disconnect, yet, because she was going to teach up both after DH's IV was in... which didn't happen!! And I never thought to ask how I was going to take off my clothes! Long story short, I managed to get the sweater off and get a t-shirt on (don't ask), with the sweater and bra dangling over the tubing and the fanny pack all night. I was too damn tired to bother calling the all-night hotline.

Of course, that meant today I needed to wear the same clothes. But s'all good. The nurse is coming back tonight, so I'll be able to change tonight :)

This morning we called our NaPro Dr to see what she recommended for the IV-hookup... she said she hasn't dealt with in-patient care for a while, and wouldn't even know where to start leading us in the right direction. She suggested we take the meds to Dr. Toth so he could hook up the IV for us. Which is what we did.

Dr. Toth took one look at DH's veins today and said, "How do you handle high doses of oral antibiotics?" He said it's not worth poking and prodding him anymore, he will just Rx some high doses of antibiotics for him instead. He said it's MOSTLY important that I have the IV, anyway, since I'm the one who carries a baby. So that's where we stand now.

While starting up my lavage today, he told me he'd also like to scrape out my cervix. Um, whaaaaa??? No thank you. Apparently I have a lot of calcification and dead tissue in the cervix that he wants to remove. I, being the dutiful FertilityCare Practitioner that I am, immediately asked, "Will that damage my cervical crypts??" He assured me it would not, and that it would improve the overall production of mucus because just like my uterus sheds dead tissue every month, my cervix has accumulated dead tissue- which he needs to scrape for me since it can't shed it.

And since I'm a little girly-girl, he also promised he'd give me some nice drugs to make me not feel a thing, drool all over myself, and mumble incoherently for hours afterwards.

We'll be doing that tomorrow :(

So thus far, treatment has pretty much been NON-STOP for 36 hrs or so. Luckily we got a little break this afternoon, when we thought we'd have to go over to the hospital for IV hook-up.
We found a yummy little chocolate shoppe right down the block from the office, too, so each day after his injection DH has gone to get me a $7.00 3-inch piece of dark chocolate covered pistachio marzipan. Oh yeah, that's reasonable. But OOOOOH so good.

Me so sleepy. And leaky. Luckily I was at the end of my period so I had a pad on, anyway... but this Flagyl stuff leaks out throughout the day. You can imagine how attractive I am, unshowered, wearing the same clothes, leaking smelly antibiotics out of my crotch. Hot.

That's my update for now. To be continued.

Pregnancy after Infertility

The clock is ticking until I begin my final treatment for infertility. (Well, that's what I'm considering it now, but who knows, maybe I'll need another selective HSG like Charlotte, and if that's the case, if my outcome is anything like hers I won't complain!) But I am thinking a lot about what is to come. My mind has taken a drastic turn from wanting to pursue adoption seriously (in August) to now being full-blown determined to achieve pregnancy. And I know that God has lead me to this decision. But in truth, I know it can and will take a good amount of time to get there.

After my 10-day treatment, we will be given oral antibiotics for about 3 weeks. After that, we may be given cyclical antibiotics to take every cycle we TTC. But we won't be able to "try" again until we get re-tested, which is about 3 wks after the orals, and the results of that take another 3 weeks... we're looking at late January/early February when we can START TTC again. And then in most cases I know Dr. Toth recommends you give it about 9 months for your immune system to fully recuperate. So, we may not actually achieve pg for another YEAR! Still, we remain hopeful. Why? Probably because I know now that I will have done EVERYTHING possible to get there.

There really is no doubt in my mind that we will get pregnant- - and now that there is an actual end in sight, I feel so much better about it. Either we will achieve in a year or we'll pursue adoption. End of story. MUCH better than "When and if we achieve... maybe in a month... maybe 4 years... maybe never..." Of course, there will come a time when we will have to mourn the loss of having a biological child, before we would move on to adoption. That's just how I envision doing it right now- right now, I couldn't see us going through adoption while still TTC. Only 3 months ago, I was able to picture that. But for both logistic reasons and financial reasons, I think it's better if we wait. I truly, TRULY believe in my heart right now that I will be pregnant within a year's time. It may be silly, naive, or just plain stupid of me to think this way, but I just can't accept the fact that my body will be completely HEALED of EVERYTHING, and STILL not do what God designed it to do. Nuh-uh. Not gonna take that one lightly :)

So in looking forward to my impending pregnancy, I decided to begin my research of prenatal care, parenting, etc. The first step was to deal with the many emotions I may face as a woman pregnant after infertility. This category of women has always been of interest to me (well, since IF anyway), because I find it even more isolated than infertility itself. Women who share in infertility have a common thread. Women who are pregnant, nursing, or parenting (having never dealt with infertility) have a common thread as well. The common thread of the 1st often involves a resentment, jealousy, and longing for the common thread of the latter. But for those in between? They belong to neither thread.

I found this article on the subject, which, if you have the time, is really a worthwhile read. I was going to post it in full, but it's pretty long:

http://www.drssfox.com/uploads/PREGNANCY%20AFTER%20INFERTILITY.htm

I am hoping that God is kind to us, and provides each of us here (CathoblogIFers. I just made that up.) a "partner" with which to share our 'Pregnancy after Infertility.'

OK. Those are my deep thoughts for tonight. Goodnight all!

Sorry I haven't posted in a while, it's been a busy week. (And then of course there's the additional stress of knowing who our country chose to be our leader. What a sad day indeed... AF came around 6pm, and I didn't even shed a tear. But a few hours later? I couldn't get myself together.)

Anyway... I spent the entire weekend researching ways to NOT have to spend $14,000 in NYC on Monday. Yes you read that right. $14,000. That's for 2 10-day IVs, 10 uterine lavages, and 10 prostate injections. I was able to find out that many of Dr. Toth's long-distance patients did a local IV, as long as they were able to find a Dr who could prescribe it locally. The problem in most cases was that many Drs just laughed at his protocol, and would refuse to Rx the IV. Luckily, my NaPro Dr. is completely on-board. (I loaned her Dr. Toth's book, "Fertile vs. Infertile," and she finds it just as fascinating as I do- she is already thinking of several patients she'd like to refer to him after me. I'm the guinea pig, lol!)

I found 2 home health agencies that were able to do home infusions in my area of the State. They both called my insurance to find out about benefits. The 1st one called back to say they were out-of-network, and that my IV would be covered in full since my deductible has been met for this year, and that DH's IV would need to be paid out of the deductible, at an estimated amt of $1,480. $1,480 sounded GREAT to me, since it would have been $8,000 for both IVs otherwise!

But that's not the greatest news. The 2nd agency called me back to say they were IN-Network, and covered at 100% for us both!! Hey Mom, look at me, I just saved $8,000!!! (And I didn't even switch to Geico.) So we are just working out the final details, faxing them over the Rx and our physicals, recent labwork, etc. We will get the IVs hooked up on Monday after our treatment in NYC.

Needless to say, this took up most of my time this week.

On top of that, I've been talking/emailing with the Diocesan Family Life Office woman, trying to work out the logistics for the Catholic IF Support Group. She is totally supportive, and wants to help as much as she can, which is just awesome! We will most likely have the meetings at the Diocese, which works out better all-around I think- it's more centrally located so we can try to get more people to come, and we can utilize the Diocese outreach and resources. I am meeting with her to go over all the research I've obtained in early December (my November is booked with antibiotics). Anyone who is currently running, or is part of a Catholic IF Support Group, I would love your ideas! I've already talked to All You Who Hope (she was pretty much the inspiration for this).

I just love watching God's plan unfold :) I see so many good things happening in my life (election aside), and it's so amazing to know that I would be completely LOST had I not just put the reigns in God's Hands. I had no idea how we were going to pay for treatment. "OK, God, show us the way!" And that He did. I had no idea why I was chosen to go through IF 2 yrs ago. And 17 Creighton clients later, with a Catholic Diocesan IF Support Group on the way... it's making a little more sense :)

Happy Infertile Halloween

A dear friend here on blogosphere is having a particularly bad IF day today. I'm sure we can all relate.

It got me to thinking about Halloween. A day full of family. Families dressing up together, trick-or-treating together... and no where for the IF couple to hide. Unlike other family events that we can avoid, Halloween is very in your face about its child-orientation. Unless you want to be a hermit all day and night, and lock yourself up in a dark house, you are going to have to see dozens, maybe hundreds, of happy young children... and mommies and daddies.

This year was not so bad for me personally. But last year? Worse than Thanksgiving and Christmas combined. I was at the end of my 2WW, and VERY hopeful. I spent the evening handing out candy with DH at the town firehouse (he is a volunteer firefighter). All evening long, I smiled and greeted happy, adorable little children, some of whom were students of mine, and when no one was looking?... I'd sneak in a little tummy rub to let MY adorable little child know I was thinking of him/her. As I watched daddies carrying babies dressed up like pumpkins on their shoulders, I pictured DH doing that same thing in 2 years time.

Then I came home. Went to the bathroom. And there she was. One of the only times I have started so late at night. I was so enraged, hurt, frustrated, devastated, desparate... all I could think to do was to take my anger out on something. I started banging on the walls (until I heard the sound of breaking glass... I had broken the Papal Blessing hanging on the other side of the wall), and then slunk into a ball in the corner of the shower to hyperventilate. No, I exaggerate not.

That was one of my lowest moments ever. The night I broke the Pope. And here I am, a year later. A year wiser? That's debatable. But a year more seasoned? Certainly. I rarely have those kinds of breakdowns anymore. Ugly cries, yes, but losing all control, no. I would have to say that Year 1 of IF was the most desperate and frustrating (full of "why me," and "how could this be"), Year 2 was the most heartwrenching and depressing, and Year 3? Thus far it has been something altogether different. Not sure exactly how to describe it; it's as if I have learned to give over the control, but in doing so, gained some of it back. Like I have resigned to the fact that I do not have the final word in when and how and if I will get pg... but along with that resignation has come a determination to do everything that IS within my power to do, therefore giving me a bit more control than I've ever really had in the past.

Now it is officially All Saints' Day. And so I leave you all with a prayer to all of the Saints, for peace in our hearts, love in our lives, and a fulfillment of God's awesome will. May God bless us all.