I began my shots for this latest FET attempt on January 18. I wasn't sure what to expect since I have had varied responses to the Lupron. Fortunately, this time around, Mutant M returned. Outside of the fact that I still suck at giving myself shots, even after all of this practice, I have had no reactions or responses to the meds. Yay!
I have been doing my best not to plan and let things fall as they will this time around. Today, I had my blood drawn for my estrogen levels to make sure my system is adequately suppressed. The magic number was below 50, and I was at 30. The nurse noted that last time I was at 29, and commented that I appear to have a pretty consistent response to the medication. Anyway, because the blood work was good, we set about scheduling the FET. Dear readers, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. My FET is scheduled for Valentine's Day. The day after Ash Wednesday, when Phil's (other) busy season officially begins. The day one year ago when we were excited because our first beta had come back positive. I rather expect that, even without being hopped up on hormones, I would have been pretty emotional that day. Now, it's pretty much guaranteed. And, with the whole Lenten element this time, there will be plenty of stress to try and avoid. Still, I can feel the excitement growing; the hope building. Third time's the charm, right?! I have been trying to keep my feelings in check, knowing that there are no guarantees. It doesn't matter. I am who I am, and I am a person who hopes and dreams big, even if it means my feelings get horribly dashed when things go wrong.
We do have one last, rather important, decision to make, though. Two or three. The doctor has recommended we transfer three embryos given my history and age, and I have researched the recommended protocols and confirmed that three is perfectly appropriate under these circumstances. And, since it increases the odds of success, it increases the odds that I don't ever have to do this again. So, for many reasons, three is the way to go. But, it takes us back to the big question--could we handle multiples if they all stuck around? The answer is, technically, yes. We have the ability and capacity to do it. Nevertheless, it would be extremely challenging. Certainly, I am less afraid that I would actually end up with triplets now that I have had a completely failed cycle and knowing that, each time we go back, the embryos we are using are considered of lower grade than the ones previously. Still the idea of triplets scares me. Enough to stick with two? I'm not sure yet, but we have to decide soon; probably within the next 12 days so that the center knows how many to thaw.
Even so, the news is good and exciting. I start taking the hormones tonight. We are underway. The 18-day countdown has begun! And so, I leave you with my hope, my wish, and my sense of humor. Because, you see, I have figured out what I am giving up for Lent this year. I am giving up not being pregnant.
1.28.2013
1.23.2013
Novel Issues, or Why My Love Affair with Romance Novels is Waning
I'm going to start with a confession. I am a lifelong romance novel addict. I started purchasing teen romance novels when I was 11 and, by 14, my best friend and I were devouring bodice-rippers that featured Fabio on the cover. These days, I tend to prefer contemporary romance, but I have read all different kinds through the years. The ones set in older times have always had something of a "rape-fantasy" quality to them, which is why I don't really care for them. But, although certainly not true of all of them, I have come across more and more contemporary romance novels that appear to feed into a culture of rape. As someone raising a daughter, this absolutely terrifies me.
But these are just stories, right? They aren't real, so it doesn't matter. But it does! How many generations of young women are we still working to reprogram because they were raised on princess myths and are still waiting for Prince Charming to arrive. I remember when I read the Twilight series. I really enjoyed the storytelling, but there was no take-away message from those books. I don't want my daughter to think that any of the relationships in those books are appropriate. And the truth is, we can write great books and great stories without these underlying rape myths that would lost nothing in the telling.
Here are a few examples:
First, what is with describing consensual (and, given the story context, pleasurable) kissing as "assaulting" or "assailing" someone? Although every state has its own definition, at common law, an assault is an intentional act that causes another to fear immediate harmful or offensive contact. If the kissing is enjoyable and mutual, there is nothing harmful or offensive about it. Thus, assault is not even an appropriate word. The kissing might be confusing, overwhelming, intense, unrelenting. Who knows! There are so many words out there. Use a thesaurus if you have to, but for goodness sake, quit using criminal words to describe it! Save "assault" for when someone is being kissed and doesn't want to be.
Next, there seem to be a lot of stories where the "hero" can no longer control himself and just has to kiss (or fondle) the woman. But, if the woman doesn't want to be kissed, this is more than just assault--this is battery. And yet, our "heroines" always capitulate. They are stiff for a few seconds and then "give in." I am amazed at how many books describe the men as "forcing" the woman's mouth open with his tongue and the woman just sighs and wraps her arms around him, begging for more. Really?! This is what we want people to think is appropriate behavior? How is this not teaching men that forcing themselves on women will ultimately make the women respond in a positive way? Furthermore, why is it that all of these fine, upstanding "heroes" suddenly lose all ability to control their conduct around these women. It just reinforces the absurd belief that women cause rape simply by existing. Just by being around these man, they have so tempted him that he cannot control himself and is simply unable to conform his conduct to the appropriate societal standards.
I don't know that these authors mean to give these types of messages. Perhaps they are unconsciously including them because our society is already conditioned to accept them. I don't have any answers. Maybe it doesn't bother anyone else, but it sure as heck bothers me, and if I don't speak up and share my discomfort and concern, nobody knows. Still, I'd love to have some feedback. Do you see the same thing and have the same concerns? Do you have any ideas how to "fix" it? Do you think I'm overreacting?
But these are just stories, right? They aren't real, so it doesn't matter. But it does! How many generations of young women are we still working to reprogram because they were raised on princess myths and are still waiting for Prince Charming to arrive. I remember when I read the Twilight series. I really enjoyed the storytelling, but there was no take-away message from those books. I don't want my daughter to think that any of the relationships in those books are appropriate. And the truth is, we can write great books and great stories without these underlying rape myths that would lost nothing in the telling.
Here are a few examples:
First, what is with describing consensual (and, given the story context, pleasurable) kissing as "assaulting" or "assailing" someone? Although every state has its own definition, at common law, an assault is an intentional act that causes another to fear immediate harmful or offensive contact. If the kissing is enjoyable and mutual, there is nothing harmful or offensive about it. Thus, assault is not even an appropriate word. The kissing might be confusing, overwhelming, intense, unrelenting. Who knows! There are so many words out there. Use a thesaurus if you have to, but for goodness sake, quit using criminal words to describe it! Save "assault" for when someone is being kissed and doesn't want to be.
Next, there seem to be a lot of stories where the "hero" can no longer control himself and just has to kiss (or fondle) the woman. But, if the woman doesn't want to be kissed, this is more than just assault--this is battery. And yet, our "heroines" always capitulate. They are stiff for a few seconds and then "give in." I am amazed at how many books describe the men as "forcing" the woman's mouth open with his tongue and the woman just sighs and wraps her arms around him, begging for more. Really?! This is what we want people to think is appropriate behavior? How is this not teaching men that forcing themselves on women will ultimately make the women respond in a positive way? Furthermore, why is it that all of these fine, upstanding "heroes" suddenly lose all ability to control their conduct around these women. It just reinforces the absurd belief that women cause rape simply by existing. Just by being around these man, they have so tempted him that he cannot control himself and is simply unable to conform his conduct to the appropriate societal standards.
I don't know that these authors mean to give these types of messages. Perhaps they are unconsciously including them because our society is already conditioned to accept them. I don't have any answers. Maybe it doesn't bother anyone else, but it sure as heck bothers me, and if I don't speak up and share my discomfort and concern, nobody knows. Still, I'd love to have some feedback. Do you see the same thing and have the same concerns? Do you have any ideas how to "fix" it? Do you think I'm overreacting?
1.21.2013
(Nearly) Impossible Medicine
The other night, Lil' Bit came home from daycare looking a little rough. Gone was her happy, bubbly, sassy self, replaced by a slow, sad, quiet child who didn't want to do anything. She was sick. That much was clear. But, her nose was clear and she just had a little cough, so we weren't too worried. She went to bed early and with little fuss. Around 9:30 or so, we heard her crying. When we went to check on her, we discovered she had thrown up and had a raging fever. Her face was red and it was clear she felt horrible. Since this is the kid who didn't even break a fever when she had RSV, we cleaned her up, packed her in the car, and headed for the ER. Her fever was 101 under the arm, which meant it was probably higher than that, so they took her back to a room. Long story short, although she got the flu shot, she tested positive for Influenza type A. They prescribed Tamiflu for her, along with Motrin and Tylenol every four hours to keep the fever down, and we arrived back home around 2:00 a.m.
Later that morning, Phil goes to pick up the Tamiflu, only to discover that none of the local pharmacies carry it. He drives 30 minutes into the city to go to a hospital pharmacy where, once they got the prescription, it took them an hour to compound it. Turns out, any of the local pharmacies could have compounded it--they just don't, so they say they don't carry it. Phil then drives the 30 minutes back home. So, after a three-hour production to get the Tamiflu, we have to figure out how to get all of this medicine into Lil' Bit. See, if you recall, Lil' Bit already gets medication 7 times a day. The new meds would require an additional 6-8 meds a day. So, we were now looking at 13-15 medications PER DAY! For a child who is only up 14 hours, this averages to almost one per hour. Worse, anything that has to be taken by syringe, or any way other than the way we do her regular meds, and she throws a fit and won't take them. It makes me angry that doctors fail to take into consideration the practicality of what they are telling parents to do. From the doctor's perspective, they have dispensed their wisdom. It is now my problem, as the parent, to figure out how to implement this, seemingly impossible, regimen on a two-year-old.
So, first, we made a chart and figured out when each of these meds had to happen, and figured out we could probably manage 13, but no more. As a result, she gets five meds between 5 and 6:30 a.m.; four throughout the day; and another four between 5 and 6:30 p.m. We discovered that pills were better than liquids and that, at the age of 2, there are pill forms of Tylenol and Motrin she can have and (if it's grape flavored) will take. As for the Tamiflu, which is in syrup form, Phil figured out a way to mix it with fruit puree and make it a single spoonful so that it looks exactly like her regular med doses. Fortunately, we're only supposed to have to do this for five days. Honestly, once these five days are over, I imagine the old routine of only 7 meds will seem quite simple!
Still, it's frustrating that the onus is all on the parents to figure out how to follow the doctor's instructions. What if there had been no pills and we still had to try and force-feed Lil' Bit all of the new meds, the result of which is her throwing up (so there's no benefit from the meds) and her stopping taking her regular meds? With advances in medicine, surely there's some way to do patches or some other transmission method other than heavily-flavored syrups that makes treating children easier. In the meantime, we'll pray that Lil' Bit doesn't get sick enough to need more meds than she already takes. But, if she does, at least we have a few more tools in our parenting trick bag.
Later that morning, Phil goes to pick up the Tamiflu, only to discover that none of the local pharmacies carry it. He drives 30 minutes into the city to go to a hospital pharmacy where, once they got the prescription, it took them an hour to compound it. Turns out, any of the local pharmacies could have compounded it--they just don't, so they say they don't carry it. Phil then drives the 30 minutes back home. So, after a three-hour production to get the Tamiflu, we have to figure out how to get all of this medicine into Lil' Bit. See, if you recall, Lil' Bit already gets medication 7 times a day. The new meds would require an additional 6-8 meds a day. So, we were now looking at 13-15 medications PER DAY! For a child who is only up 14 hours, this averages to almost one per hour. Worse, anything that has to be taken by syringe, or any way other than the way we do her regular meds, and she throws a fit and won't take them. It makes me angry that doctors fail to take into consideration the practicality of what they are telling parents to do. From the doctor's perspective, they have dispensed their wisdom. It is now my problem, as the parent, to figure out how to implement this, seemingly impossible, regimen on a two-year-old.
So, first, we made a chart and figured out when each of these meds had to happen, and figured out we could probably manage 13, but no more. As a result, she gets five meds between 5 and 6:30 a.m.; four throughout the day; and another four between 5 and 6:30 p.m. We discovered that pills were better than liquids and that, at the age of 2, there are pill forms of Tylenol and Motrin she can have and (if it's grape flavored) will take. As for the Tamiflu, which is in syrup form, Phil figured out a way to mix it with fruit puree and make it a single spoonful so that it looks exactly like her regular med doses. Fortunately, we're only supposed to have to do this for five days. Honestly, once these five days are over, I imagine the old routine of only 7 meds will seem quite simple!
Still, it's frustrating that the onus is all on the parents to figure out how to follow the doctor's instructions. What if there had been no pills and we still had to try and force-feed Lil' Bit all of the new meds, the result of which is her throwing up (so there's no benefit from the meds) and her stopping taking her regular meds? With advances in medicine, surely there's some way to do patches or some other transmission method other than heavily-flavored syrups that makes treating children easier. In the meantime, we'll pray that Lil' Bit doesn't get sick enough to need more meds than she already takes. But, if she does, at least we have a few more tools in our parenting trick bag.
1.17.2013
A Reminder of What's Important
Being a rather stubborn, get-what-I-want-come-hell-or-high-water kind of person, I can get a little focused on a goal and forget to see other things. This has been brought home to me quite clearly as of late. As the total number of family/friends I know who are pregnant continues to grow (now above 12), I've gotten more and more focused on getting another child and my frustration at being denied that which I so desperately desire. Unfortunately, this narrow focus has made me forget to take pleasure in that which I already have--namely, Lil' Bit. Don't get me wrong, I have been loving playing with her and watching her develop and taking joy in her. But I've been taking it for granted. I assume, as we all do, that there will be a tomorrow. And, although the odds are on my side, it's not a given.
We've all heard that once you pass that 13-week threshold of pregnancy your odds of delivering a happy, healthy baby are much higher. But, it's no guarantee. And yet, most of us go through pregnancy sure that there is a next day, and a next, until we reach the finish line. Recently, a friend of a friend lost her baby at 20 weeks' gestation. I know other people who have lost babies at 15 and 17 weeks and even as late as 38 weeks. The truth is, there is no "safe" period. Not even birth. Many a parent has lost their child shortly after birth or in the first few months. But none of us dwell on it. In fact, generally after the first 6 months, when the risk of SIDS is over, we all move through life even more sure of every tomorrow.
Back when Lil' Bit first went to the hospital, I had my first moment of remembering not to take each day for granted. With her health diagnosis, the need for surgery, the actual surgery, and all of the other health issues that have come, I have been reminded that every day is not a given. And yet, when she is being a sassy toddler and running me out of what little patience I have left, I forget. I forget to marvel in her existence. I forget to tell her how much I love her. After yesterday, however, I am making a firm commitment to remember. Every day.
See, some dear friends of mine lost their 3-year-old child quite unexpectedly. When I saw the news, I had to read and re-read it many times before it sank in. My mind just couldn't accept what I was seeing. I could see pictures of this beautiful child--so close in age and personality to my own--from just days before. How could she possibly be gone? Phil and I sat in the house trying to digest this news. My very first thought was, "I can't even imagine." But, the truth is, I could imagine. That was why it was so painful. I could easily see it having been me. And I was terrified. In that instant, I didn't care whether my FET was successful. My focus was Lil' Bit and making sure I held her and that she knew how much I loved her.
And so I find myself in a very different space today. My goal is still to go forward with the FET. And I will still be sad it isn't successful. But as of this moment, it is no longer the most important thing in my life. There are way more important things--loving Lil' Bit and Phil and making sure they know how much; loving my friends through their loss and through the hard times ahead; living my life in remembrance of the fact that today could be the last day--whether mine or someone else's. I will plan for the future, but I will live for today. I will remember.
We've all heard that once you pass that 13-week threshold of pregnancy your odds of delivering a happy, healthy baby are much higher. But, it's no guarantee. And yet, most of us go through pregnancy sure that there is a next day, and a next, until we reach the finish line. Recently, a friend of a friend lost her baby at 20 weeks' gestation. I know other people who have lost babies at 15 and 17 weeks and even as late as 38 weeks. The truth is, there is no "safe" period. Not even birth. Many a parent has lost their child shortly after birth or in the first few months. But none of us dwell on it. In fact, generally after the first 6 months, when the risk of SIDS is over, we all move through life even more sure of every tomorrow.
Back when Lil' Bit first went to the hospital, I had my first moment of remembering not to take each day for granted. With her health diagnosis, the need for surgery, the actual surgery, and all of the other health issues that have come, I have been reminded that every day is not a given. And yet, when she is being a sassy toddler and running me out of what little patience I have left, I forget. I forget to marvel in her existence. I forget to tell her how much I love her. After yesterday, however, I am making a firm commitment to remember. Every day.
See, some dear friends of mine lost their 3-year-old child quite unexpectedly. When I saw the news, I had to read and re-read it many times before it sank in. My mind just couldn't accept what I was seeing. I could see pictures of this beautiful child--so close in age and personality to my own--from just days before. How could she possibly be gone? Phil and I sat in the house trying to digest this news. My very first thought was, "I can't even imagine." But, the truth is, I could imagine. That was why it was so painful. I could easily see it having been me. And I was terrified. In that instant, I didn't care whether my FET was successful. My focus was Lil' Bit and making sure I held her and that she knew how much I loved her.
And so I find myself in a very different space today. My goal is still to go forward with the FET. And I will still be sad it isn't successful. But as of this moment, it is no longer the most important thing in my life. There are way more important things--loving Lil' Bit and Phil and making sure they know how much; loving my friends through their loss and through the hard times ahead; living my life in remembrance of the fact that today could be the last day--whether mine or someone else's. I will plan for the future, but I will live for today. I will remember.
1.14.2013
Now What?
Eleven days past surgery and, although things have improved, I'm not nearly where I expected to be in terms of recovery. Some days feel like two steps forward and one step back, but more recently it feels like one step forward and two steps back. All of which leads to a conundrum--do I start shots on Friday or push things out? Do I think I will feel recovered enough to put my body through transfer in a month? I just wish that my doctor's appointment was sooner than Thursday, so I could ask the surgeon how he would evaluate my progress and what he thought. Still, I'm leaning toward yes. The truth is, things will always pop up and get in the way. There is no perfect time to do anything and, goodness knows, if we're successful, we don't really get to plan anything at that point. So, might as well just roll with the punches.
On top of everything else, we recently learned that Lil' Bit has mild sleep apnea. It's possible that this has been exacerbating her pulmonary hypertension and that getting it taken care of would help her arterial pressures. It should also allow her to get more/better rest which makes everyone happier. It's easily taken care of with the removal of her tonsils and adenoids, but nothing is ever really easy with her. She has to have special anesthesia because of her condition, so we'll have to have the surgery done where she had her heart surgery. Further, she probably won't be able to do outpatient surgery because, what with her having to take meds six times a day, we have to make sure she is adequately swallowing and taking her meds before she can be released. We're hoping it can wait until April so it's after both Easter and RSV season, but we have to wait and see what her cardiologist recommends. So, lots of fun ahead.
Assuming everything goes as currently planned, 4 days and counting...
On top of everything else, we recently learned that Lil' Bit has mild sleep apnea. It's possible that this has been exacerbating her pulmonary hypertension and that getting it taken care of would help her arterial pressures. It should also allow her to get more/better rest which makes everyone happier. It's easily taken care of with the removal of her tonsils and adenoids, but nothing is ever really easy with her. She has to have special anesthesia because of her condition, so we'll have to have the surgery done where she had her heart surgery. Further, she probably won't be able to do outpatient surgery because, what with her having to take meds six times a day, we have to make sure she is adequately swallowing and taking her meds before she can be released. We're hoping it can wait until April so it's after both Easter and RSV season, but we have to wait and see what her cardiologist recommends. So, lots of fun ahead.
Assuming everything goes as currently planned, 4 days and counting...
1.09.2013
Things Can Only Get Better
***Warning--the following includes what some may consider over-sharing***
Hello, 2013. We are not off to a great start, but that is not entirely unexpected. I previously mentioned that I was starting the year with major outpatient surgery. More specifically, I had major hemorrhoid surgery. Thus, the very slow, very painful, recovery I am currently experiencing is a literal pain in the ass. I badly needed this surgery. When I went to the doctor for my surgical evaluation after a visit to the urgent care for two very thrombosed hemorrhoids, he indicated that although their policy is to avoid a hemorrhoidectomy at all costs, that was not an option for me. After the surgery was done, the doctor reiterated to Phil that the surgery had definitely been necessary. So here I sit, er lay, trying to recover. I am having to be patient and sit (lay) still and it's driving me bonkers! Phil is doing an amazing job taking care of Lil' Bit, but I feel like I'm falling down on the job. That's right. I am feeling guilty because I am recovering from surgery! Cognitively, I know that's twisted, but it doesn't stop me from having those feelings. Although I haven't figured out how to stop them, I do have a better understanding of how parents forget self-care. Thus, one of the things I am trying to do while I recover is make sure I am taking care of myself. After all, had I taken better care of myself earlier in life, I likely would not have needed the surgery. So, I am trying to use the painful recovery as an object lesson in making sure I do a better job at self-care. Here's hoping!
Also approaching is the date I start my shots for our next FET. Honestly, this date will not come soon enough. I have at least eight friends and relatives who are all pregnant. Add in all the celebrities--Duchess Kate, Kim Kardashian, Jessica Simpson--and I am an emotional puddle. On the plus side, I am no longer angry at those who are pregnant. I am joyful that they are happy and, at least as far as I know, were easily successful in their endeavor. Still, I am tired of being happy for everyone else. My joy for them seems to only compound my anger and frustration at being stuck in a holding pattern. When is it my turn? Why am I forced to pay thousands of dollars to do what reality stars on MTV do by accident? While friends and bloggers I follow are all closing down their baby-making factories and having surgery to prevent any more kids, I am angrily fighting against time to get one more in before the clock stops.
So, what has my angry, pitying self done during this recovery period (when not working from home, that is)? Tortured myself with episodes of TLC's A Baby Story, that's what. So, let's recap. I'm in pain and feeling guilty for taking the time necessary to recover from surgery while feeling totally inadequate because my infertility is keeping me from that which I desperately want and my only solution keeps failing. So, come on January 18. Get here so I can get started; so I can hope and dream again; so I can feel like I'm doing something productive--something, hopefully, REproductive. Save me from myself. Let's make this a year to remember--hopefully for the better.
9 days and counting...
Hello, 2013. We are not off to a great start, but that is not entirely unexpected. I previously mentioned that I was starting the year with major outpatient surgery. More specifically, I had major hemorrhoid surgery. Thus, the very slow, very painful, recovery I am currently experiencing is a literal pain in the ass. I badly needed this surgery. When I went to the doctor for my surgical evaluation after a visit to the urgent care for two very thrombosed hemorrhoids, he indicated that although their policy is to avoid a hemorrhoidectomy at all costs, that was not an option for me. After the surgery was done, the doctor reiterated to Phil that the surgery had definitely been necessary. So here I sit, er lay, trying to recover. I am having to be patient and sit (lay) still and it's driving me bonkers! Phil is doing an amazing job taking care of Lil' Bit, but I feel like I'm falling down on the job. That's right. I am feeling guilty because I am recovering from surgery! Cognitively, I know that's twisted, but it doesn't stop me from having those feelings. Although I haven't figured out how to stop them, I do have a better understanding of how parents forget self-care. Thus, one of the things I am trying to do while I recover is make sure I am taking care of myself. After all, had I taken better care of myself earlier in life, I likely would not have needed the surgery. So, I am trying to use the painful recovery as an object lesson in making sure I do a better job at self-care. Here's hoping!
Also approaching is the date I start my shots for our next FET. Honestly, this date will not come soon enough. I have at least eight friends and relatives who are all pregnant. Add in all the celebrities--Duchess Kate, Kim Kardashian, Jessica Simpson--and I am an emotional puddle. On the plus side, I am no longer angry at those who are pregnant. I am joyful that they are happy and, at least as far as I know, were easily successful in their endeavor. Still, I am tired of being happy for everyone else. My joy for them seems to only compound my anger and frustration at being stuck in a holding pattern. When is it my turn? Why am I forced to pay thousands of dollars to do what reality stars on MTV do by accident? While friends and bloggers I follow are all closing down their baby-making factories and having surgery to prevent any more kids, I am angrily fighting against time to get one more in before the clock stops.
So, what has my angry, pitying self done during this recovery period (when not working from home, that is)? Tortured myself with episodes of TLC's A Baby Story, that's what. So, let's recap. I'm in pain and feeling guilty for taking the time necessary to recover from surgery while feeling totally inadequate because my infertility is keeping me from that which I desperately want and my only solution keeps failing. So, come on January 18. Get here so I can get started; so I can hope and dream again; so I can feel like I'm doing something productive--something, hopefully, REproductive. Save me from myself. Let's make this a year to remember--hopefully for the better.
9 days and counting...
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