12.15.2010
11.02.2010
ugh
Sorry, I'm so down I don't wanna post because I know it will be a downer.
FET is scheduled for Thursday 11.04. We found out today that 9 of 10 embryos survived the thaw. Now hopefully some will survive the challenge and make it to 5-day embryos so we have something to transfer, otherwise our cycle will be canceled if they all arrest.
Here's hoping...
FET is scheduled for Thursday 11.04. We found out today that 9 of 10 embryos survived the thaw. Now hopefully some will survive the challenge and make it to 5-day embryos so we have something to transfer, otherwise our cycle will be canceled if they all arrest.
Here's hoping...
10.30.2010
im·mo·bi·lized
im·mo·bi·lize /i(m)ˈmōbəˌlīz/Prevent (something or someone) from moving or operating as normal
I am immobilized. It's halfway through another Saturday and I'm still in my PJs. There is plenty to do around the house, but I've not done it. My husband had to work today to make up for being off next Thursday to take me for my procedure, my final procedure.
My final procedure. My last chance. Just the thought immobilizes me.
10.29.2010
feel infertile
Ok, so I've given this a lot of thought. Here's what it's like to feel the pain of infertility, for those who have never suffered but would like to understand.
Imagine every woman in the world is born with cancer.
Most begin to find a cure for their cancer in their 20s, some in their 30s. But all in all, most women eventually find a cure for their cancer without much trouble, without much of a struggle.
You have been going to specialist after specialist, undergoing treatment after treatment, taking medicine, giving yourself shots, anything and everything to try to find a cure for your cancer, but nothing works. You are exhausted. You feel left out. You've spent a ton of money trying to find your cure. For you, there is no light at the end of the tunnel.
In the mean time, all your friends and family members and pretty much everyone you know has found their cure. Your friends, family members, people on the street, people on TV, people on Facebook, they all talk about their cures and how wonderful it is to be cured.
But there's you, still suffering from cancer. And most people who've found their cure don't really want to talk about your suffering, they just want to talk about how wonderful life is since they found their cure. And you are happy for them, because you don't want anyone to suffer from cancer the way you have suffered.
Everyone is going to live a long, healthy life. But you don't know if they will ever find a cure for cancer. You have no idea how long your cancer will last. You are living in limbo, in pain, feeling isolated, alone, helpless, broke and wondering "why me?"
Imagine every woman in the world is born with cancer.
Most begin to find a cure for their cancer in their 20s, some in their 30s. But all in all, most women eventually find a cure for their cancer without much trouble, without much of a struggle.
You have been going to specialist after specialist, undergoing treatment after treatment, taking medicine, giving yourself shots, anything and everything to try to find a cure for your cancer, but nothing works. You are exhausted. You feel left out. You've spent a ton of money trying to find your cure. For you, there is no light at the end of the tunnel.
In the mean time, all your friends and family members and pretty much everyone you know has found their cure. Your friends, family members, people on the street, people on TV, people on Facebook, they all talk about their cures and how wonderful it is to be cured.
But there's you, still suffering from cancer. And most people who've found their cure don't really want to talk about your suffering, they just want to talk about how wonderful life is since they found their cure. And you are happy for them, because you don't want anyone to suffer from cancer the way you have suffered.
Everyone is going to live a long, healthy life. But you don't know if they will ever find a cure for cancer. You have no idea how long your cancer will last. You are living in limbo, in pain, feeling isolated, alone, helpless, broke and wondering "why me?"
10.23.2010
living the life of a hermit, i mean infertile
Which came first, the infertility or the hermit life?
We no longer have any friends. Not locally anyway. So do people shy away from us because we don't have kids or do we shy away from people who have kids (aka the rest of the world).
Ten years ago we moved away from the big city into the country because we didn't want to raise our kids in that city. Little did we know we would have such a difficult time having kids. So here we are, in the country, in isolation.
Due to trying to adopt for the past two years, we were advised to not change jobs or move. In our state, you cannot be in the process of trying to adopt while having infertility treatment, so earlier this year when we started IVF again, we had to give up trying to adopt, which did free us up to move and change jobs, but of course the economy is preventing us from doing either.
So we've been in this holding pattern. And we are friendless. Humans are social animals. I need friends. I am at home on Saturday, it's after noon, and I'm blogging and watching a movie on Lifetime in my PJs. ACK! That's just not normal!
Everything has taken a backseat to infertility, the house, the yard, friends, us.
We no longer have any friends. Not locally anyway. So do people shy away from us because we don't have kids or do we shy away from people who have kids (aka the rest of the world).
Ten years ago we moved away from the big city into the country because we didn't want to raise our kids in that city. Little did we know we would have such a difficult time having kids. So here we are, in the country, in isolation.
Due to trying to adopt for the past two years, we were advised to not change jobs or move. In our state, you cannot be in the process of trying to adopt while having infertility treatment, so earlier this year when we started IVF again, we had to give up trying to adopt, which did free us up to move and change jobs, but of course the economy is preventing us from doing either.
So we've been in this holding pattern. And we are friendless. Humans are social animals. I need friends. I am at home on Saturday, it's after noon, and I'm blogging and watching a movie on Lifetime in my PJs. ACK! That's just not normal!
Everything has taken a backseat to infertility, the house, the yard, friends, us.
what kind of mother would I be
What would people think of a women who didn't fight for her child?
I just finished watching “My Sister’s Keeper.” (as if I don't have enough to cry about already...) At one point, the mother of a daughter with cancer says "What kind of mom would I be if I didn't fight for my child?" (or something similar, or maybe her sister says it to her, but you get the point).
This really struck a chord with me. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't fight for my child. The only difference is that my child isn't here yet. Maybe that's why non-infertiles have such a difficult time understanding the struggle we infertiles have, we are all fighting for our children, who aren't here yet.
So I've been fighting for my child for over 11 years, and people still don't understand. How can we change this? How can we help people understand infertility and it's side effects. I have been expected to just go one with my life as if nothing is happening to me. I am expected to smile, and be happy that I have my health. But the people who expect that of me, all have children. They don't get it. Would a mother who lost her child be expected to smile and get on with her life and be happy she has her health and act as if nothing happened? I think not.
I just finished watching “My Sister’s Keeper.” (as if I don't have enough to cry about already...) At one point, the mother of a daughter with cancer says "What kind of mom would I be if I didn't fight for my child?" (or something similar, or maybe her sister says it to her, but you get the point).
This really struck a chord with me. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't fight for my child. The only difference is that my child isn't here yet. Maybe that's why non-infertiles have such a difficult time understanding the struggle we infertiles have, we are all fighting for our children, who aren't here yet.
So I've been fighting for my child for over 11 years, and people still don't understand. How can we change this? How can we help people understand infertility and it's side effects. I have been expected to just go one with my life as if nothing is happening to me. I am expected to smile, and be happy that I have my health. But the people who expect that of me, all have children. They don't get it. Would a mother who lost her child be expected to smile and get on with her life and be happy she has her health and act as if nothing happened? I think not.
10.17.2010
the hair brush
Lately, I've been thinking of a hair brush. It's no ordinary hair brush. The hair brush belonged to my grandma, in the 1970s and at some point she passed it to me. I can remember her brushing my long hair with it. It always seemed like a really fancy hair brush to me, but that is probably because it belonged to my Grandma, whom I loved very much and had a very special relationship with.
It's a Mason Pearson hair brush. I never had a clue that this hair brush was so expensive until I started looking into replacing it recently. They cost about $200-300. Who knew! I hadn't a clue that there were hair brushes that cost so much. They are made in London and have been for some time. When I found out how dear the hair brush was, I began to search for it last night. Since it belonged to my grandma, I figured it couldn't be far. My search became frantic. I HAD to find this hair brush.
After about an hour and sometime after midnight, I found my beloved hair brush. I was so relieved. I cried. I washed the hair brush and began brushing my hair. The sound was so familiar. It was as if my grandma was brushing my hair. I felt her near. I cried and brushed my hair.
What does this have to do with infertility you may be asking yourself. This hair brush is like a piece of my grandma, something I can touch and hold and it makes me feel close to a person who is gone.
What will become of the hair brush, I thought. I would like to pass it on to my daughter or granddaughter and tell her of my grandma. I would like to pass things, material and immaterial, on to my children and grandchildren and have them remember me, long after I am gone.
It was so nice to feel my grandma near. She has been gone for 12 years. I plan to use my hair brush regularly from now on.
It's a Mason Pearson hair brush. I never had a clue that this hair brush was so expensive until I started looking into replacing it recently. They cost about $200-300. Who knew! I hadn't a clue that there were hair brushes that cost so much. They are made in London and have been for some time. When I found out how dear the hair brush was, I began to search for it last night. Since it belonged to my grandma, I figured it couldn't be far. My search became frantic. I HAD to find this hair brush.
After about an hour and sometime after midnight, I found my beloved hair brush. I was so relieved. I cried. I washed the hair brush and began brushing my hair. The sound was so familiar. It was as if my grandma was brushing my hair. I felt her near. I cried and brushed my hair.
What does this have to do with infertility you may be asking yourself. This hair brush is like a piece of my grandma, something I can touch and hold and it makes me feel close to a person who is gone.
What will become of the hair brush, I thought. I would like to pass it on to my daughter or granddaughter and tell her of my grandma. I would like to pass things, material and immaterial, on to my children and grandchildren and have them remember me, long after I am gone.
It was so nice to feel my grandma near. She has been gone for 12 years. I plan to use my hair brush regularly from now on.
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