family, parenthood, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

birthday card for my dad

So, it’s April 3 for at least another couple of hours on the west coast, and I’d like to honor my dear Dad on his birthday.

If you know my dad, you know that he wears his heart on his sleeve, tearing up with joy (or sadness) at the tiniest provocation–and this only gets more intense as he gets older. Years ago, he would raise a glass at the family dinner table to give a holiday toast and barely get a few words out before getting choked up. Now he just raises a glass and gets choked up wordlessly and we all laugh/cry and clink glasses and know what he was going to say: I’m so happy we’re all together.

I am starting with the tears because I’m sitting here teary as I consider all the things I could write.

My dad is someone who truly lives in the moment. He can get deeply happy about a cheddar cheese sandwich with kalamata olives and Miracle Whip. He will enthusiastically invite you to try one of his margaritas like they were just invented. He can’t wait to tell you about the YouTube videos he stumbled on, or the treasure he just found at the antique store for $30, or the crazy story he heard from some guy he met today at the tennis court. He treats everyone with deep interest and respect, whether at a dinner party or the grocery store. “How’s your day going?”

My dad has been wearing his collar up since before it was cool. Usually with a handkerchief tied around his neck. His sense of style is timeless.

Most important to me over the years is that my dad has always Been There for my sisters and me. I mean that literally and figuratively–he worked from home starting when I was in kindergarten, which meant that he was my Room Dad in school (likely inaugurating the title of Room Dad as this was in the 70s). Our parents were (and are) Around.

He took us on roadtrips to visit his parents in New England–his own father truly his opposite, an engineer who missed social cues, barked orders, and didn’t particularly express love. His mom, on the other hand, my sweet namesake, is where he got the goods.

These days, we do an incredibly good job of getting together despite being far apart, still giving each other the gift of Time. We talk on the phone. We Skype. We fly several times a year and pile into someone’s house.

Recently, my dad emailed me after reading a post to tell me how happy is that he’s my dad. And I just know that his dad didn’t tell him that, and many dads don’t tell their kids that, and my kid won’t ever hear that because he or she won’t even have a dad. And I feel so lucky that I’m his daughter. And excited that my kid will have a Grandpa Cha Cha.

There is no bigger supporter of the Solo Mama Project. My parents are tied for first place.

I remember my dad coming home from the hospital to bring me the news of the birth of each of my sisters. I remember sitting with him on the stairs while he wept with joy.

Thanks for keeping the joy flowing, Dad.

 

anxiety, fertility, IVF, ovulation, pregnancy, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

the science

It’s a quiet Tuesday evening at home. The light is beginning to wane, and the fog is so thick that I can’t even see the hills. Big puffs of fog roll intermittently down my street. I’m getting used to this phase of not doing much… Just talked myself out of doing work tonight since it can all just simmer down and wait until tomorrow. I also decided not to start my taxes (again). We can’t be driven by the to-do list every hour of every day. Am I right?

Last night was IVF orientation class at UCSF. I got to meet my Patient Navigator, the woman I eventually need to talk to about the financials. Maria from the front desk was there and gave me a hug. The auditorium was full of around 80 people considering or beginning IVF treatment, all roughly my age, all likely having been through the ringer on this already. I walked in and took a seat in front so I wouldn’t be too tempted to peoplewatch and make up stories about what each couple was going through. A woman my age sat next to me–I eyed her wedding ring. Why wouldn’t her husband be here? I felt solidarity with her, and annoyed that he felt he had something better to do.

Dr. Cedars, who I believe had the longest wait when I first called UCSF, got us started with a PowerPoint slide of all the physicians on staff, including, yep, Dr. Tran. I gazed at his photo fondly. She went through all their background info and areas of research (they really seem like a bunch of pals), and then we covered the basics: pre-conception testing, various protocols, the retrieval process, the transfer process, success rates. I knew a lot of it already (it’s amazing how much medical knowledge you can retain when it’s about you), but it was good to hear it from start to finish. I learned that the uterus is actually “potential space” and when it’s empty it’s flat like a pancake with the sides touching. Also, the ovaries aren’t really hanging way out on the sides like a Georgia O’Keeffe painting; they are usually hanging next to the vagina, just millimeters away. Closer to the opening, making the retrieval process not as terribly invasive as one might initially think.

Dr. Cedars says she is more conservative than her younger colleagues who recommend that the only thing you should not do between transfer and pregnancy test is skydive. She no longer recommends bed rest but forbids anything bouncy (which actually brought tears to my eyes as I considered abstaining from running at such a stressful time). She doesn’t want the uterus to contract for any reason–the Valium for transfer day is a muscle relaxer to prevent cramping when the catheter is inserted. She also forbids fish oil (which I’m currently taking) and herbal treatments because they can supposedly cause your blood to not clot well. She said to stop the fish oil when starting stims.

Then we moved on to Dr. Rosen, the lab director, for a bunch of amazing photos and videos from the embryology lab. We got a virtual tour of the lab, with its super-pure air (pushed through 5 filtration systems), incubators with each shelf dedicated to one patient at a time, and these futuristic-looking machines were the operator sits holding a joystick in each hand–ostensibly to guide the needle into the egg and inject the sperm.

The ICSI needle is 1/10 the diameter of a human hair, and the egg is about the size of the period at the end of this sentence. (Probably smaller, actually.) This video game requires some serious precision. About 75% of their IVF patients do ICSI.

I was just reading about how they dehydrate the embryos so they don’t burst while frozen, and apply antifreeze (cryoprotectorant) so they don’t shrivel. It sounds so sad! Don’t tell my kid. Assisted hatching is something they do for women older than 38, since their eggs’ shells can be too hard. The methylprednisolone, whose purpose eluded me when my meds box arrived, is a steroid hormone with immunosuppressive potency, potentially helping the hatched embryo survive in the new environment of the uterus. For some reason not explained in my handout, it helps them implant better. (Did I sound like a med student until that last sentence?)

Suddenly, regular conception or even IUIs  seem practically irresponsible for how much they leave up to chance!

The last slide was a photo of a newborn with an extremely scrunched-up face, and the caption said, “A Healthy Singleton.” Which is the goal. And, honestly, all of the above science doesn’t necessarily feel all that connected to actual pregnancy and birth. I guess that’s why you get nine months.

It occurs to me just how action-packed this blog is going to get in the coming weeks. First, the baseline ultrasound. Then the play by play on stimming–watching for how many follies grow with ultrasounds every other day. I am already anxious about the successful injection of the HCG trigger 36 hours before retrieval–the timing has to be exact. Then: retrieval, the daily fertilization reports until Day 5, the two-week wait for the genetic test results, and then gearing up for the transfer cycle (I don’t even have that calendar yet).

We won’t know anything definitive for two months but MAN will we be busy. And by we I mean me.

 

anxiety, depression, family, fertility, IVF, outdoors, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

the ride

This past week went fine–a busy work week, relaxing evenings, injections at 10pm. My friend C asked me on the phone last night if I was feeling anything yet and I said I didn’t think so–a little more tired, maybe, but that was it.

Today I started to feel it. I woke up around 7am and cleaned my kitchen from top to bottom, including every cupboard and inside the refrigerator (super abnormal behavior). I made myself breakfast and soon after started feeling sick to my stomach. I sat down on the couch and felt overwhelmingly tired. I wondered if I’d feel well enough to hike with my sister. Then it started to rain. And the tears started to fall.

I know that it was the hormones because I wasn’t crying about anything. There was no trigger, nothing in particular on my mind. I just looked out at the rainy streets and cried, and then, as long as I was crying, I cried about having to put my body through this, and about not knowing what’s next, and what if it only gets worse, and it will because I’m only 6 days into Lupron and the big guns come out in about a week.

My sister texted that she was on her way over, and I pulled it together and showered and got ready. As soon as she got here, I felt better. We planned an urban hike. Even though rain was forecast through the entire weekend, it really only rained for about 10 minutes this morning and then transformed into a glorious, warm, sunny day with only the mildest of breezes. We walked to the new Bi-Rite on Divis to get sandwiches, oranges, popcorn, and kombucha, and went over to the Panhandle and then to the tippy top of Buena Vista Park.

I noticed the beauty all around–the plum and cherry blossoms, the daffodils, a blue jay. The erratic streaks of clouds across the blue sky as our storm apparently sideswiped us. I felt relaxed because I had nothing to do later, nothing to check, nothing to get done. We came back to my apartment and watched The Hunger Games, which I read last summer and she just finished..another good distraction (and better than I expected). She went to have dinner with a friend while I stayed in and ate homemade black bean chili and cornbread.

And, here I sit, warm from today’s time in the sun, with the window open next to me and the sounds of cars passing by on the wet streets. As the sun was setting, I went up on the roof and took this:

rainy sunset

I did a little googling of Lupron side effects and found that pretty much anything goes; the lists are long. The drug originated as a treatment for prostate cancer. We’re playing with the pituitary gland which seems like the epicenter of hormones, so it kinda makes sense that things could get a little nutty.

But not totally–I feel fine right now and had an awesome day. I just think I expected to have no side effects–I even wrote that in my last post–much like me and Ms. R. thought we’d (obviously) get prego on the first try. I’d call it naïveté, or maybe even willful ignorance, or false confidence–it doesn’t always work out the way you expected.

I texted my friend Dr. B.: “Uh oh, tears just hit,” and she said, “Hang in there. It’s a ride.”

So true. And calling it a ride kind of makes it sound more fun, like an adventure. What will happen next? Stay tuned!

I just signed up for 3 upcoming events and wanted to let any friends in on it who may want to join me.

First: two back to back events at Spirit Rock:

As I told my sister today, at the beginning of June I’ll be in “some kind of state of mind…” so a couple of daylongs will be well-timed.

And, finally, I would like to announce my first Blog Giveaway in honor of the upcoming first anniversary of The Solo Mama Project. I have two tickets to see Annie Lamott and her son Sam do a reading at St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church in Marin City on Wed, 4/17 at 8pm. Email me if you want to go with me–first friend to contact me gets to come with. One of my favorite authors, in the very church about which she frequently writes, and one of the original voices of a single mom by choice. It’s a benefit for St. Andrew’s. I only heard about it because Annie herself posted it on facebook and I follow her. Excited!

Don’t cry for me, Argentina! My sister says I’m rockin’ this.

donor sperm, fertility, IVF, pregnancy, pregnancy loss, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc

peace of mind

I’m on the iPad tonight and feeling sleepy… But before bed, i wanted to share this lil parcel which arrived in the mail for me today:

20130321-221046.jpg

Here we go, yo.

After my last post, my IVF veteran friends called one by one, sharing their experiences. I realized I was still swimming in uncertainty about Day 3 vs. Day 5 and genetic testing. Then I talked to Dr. B, my friend who is pregnant after 2 IVFs–first time she did a Day 3 transfer and it didn’t work. Second time: genetic testing and a frozen embryo transfer a month later–worked. She also reminded me of a woman we know from the national boards who, like me, got pregnant easily and had early losses. She got tons of eggs, and 6 embryos made it to Day 5. After testing, they found that only one was normal. And that’s the one she’s pregnant with now! They can’t eyeball these things… And at my age, 2/3 of my eggs aren’t going to work.

I realized that putting 3-4 embies in on Day 3 would feel like “spray and pray.” And why not find out which ones have the right chromosome count when the technology is there? And mitigate the risk of miscarriage? They only want to put back one to ensure that this blog doesn’t turn into solo mama with twins (as if I could keep blogging!). The risks are: losing a normal one between Days 3 and 5 (impossible to know if this happens or not), ending up with all abnormal, or ending up with nothing.

I sat with it, did a pro/con list. I have to say, the pro/con list never fails me when it comes to big decisions. What rose to the top as the favorite pro? Peace of mind.

Today I met with the genetic counselor along with a doctor who was observing. We were all women around the same age. I learned so much nerdy science stuff that I can’t adequately convey while typing on the iPad. Let’s just say that the technology is mind blowing. Particularly the part where they map the genetics of me and McPiercy and it’s where the code veers from either of ours that they determine it’s abnormal. That and missing or extra chromosomes.

They felt I was a strong candidate for PGS given my age and my high ovarian reserve. So, I’m going for the method that has the highest rate of success. Why not knock this out in one round? My favorite stat: they predict I have a 93% chance of getting at least one normal embryo. (and, if it works, there is a 100% chance it was the right one.)

I emailed Dr. T because he gave me his card and said I could. I apologized for changing my mind but apparently needed more time and now I’m clear. All he had done was “order the labs” so I think all he had to do was revise the order. He wrote back, “No Problem, K” and I liked how he capitalized No Problem. He acknowledged that it’s a very difficult decision and copied in Olga and Lili (the genetic counselor), so now we’re all on the same page.

So, sports fans, I just added a month to the final result. The biopsies, a few cells from the part of each embie that will become the placenta gets couriered down to San Carlos where the results take two weeks. So I’ll catch the next cycle and transfer in early May. After a little R&R and detox from all those drugs you see on my dining room table. My baby will be born in 2014.

Good night, friends. I leave you with this light fixture in the restaurant where I had dinner tonight with my friend C. Am I hallucinating or do you see it too?

20130321-220950.jpg

anxiety, dating, donor sperm, family, fertility, IVF, outdoors, pregnancy, pregnancy loss, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, writing

ivf. omg.

This morning, I said to Dr. Tran, “I feel like I’m about to climb Mount Everest.”

He looked at me solemnly and responded, “You are.”

I’ve begun my IVF protocol, without a break, careening straight into a full calendar and a giant box of meds. It is so huge. I hope I can adequately convey to you how big this is.

It was a good time to take a break from the blog considering this monumental transition and the fact that I had no bandwidth for writing (or even thinking) while traveling and working and spending time with family and processing the neg bomb. I have not even close to sufficiently responded to all the love that poured in after my last post. I needed an escape, I took a break from everything, including you. But not including work–it’s my busiest time of year. I spent time in therapy talking through the way I channel a lot of my anxiety about fertility into my job, trying to stay on top of it, trying to control it. But while my job is a priority, it is not THE priority.

I am myopically focused on the priority. The intensity of it is awesome in the old-fashioned sense of the word.

IVF began in Indianapolis, when I emailed Olga to give the green light on this cycle. Yes, it was short notice to get all of our ducks in a row but her next email bowled me over: you need to go to IVF orientation, sign a consent form in person, attend an injection class, have a saline sonogram, do a test transfer, meet with Dr. Tran, meet with a genetic counselor, order your meds, start birth control pills, start antibiotics, have a financial consult, and clear your schedule. Next, I called the pharmacy and got bowled over again: Lupron, Gonal-F, Menopur, Methylpredisolone (I actually don’t even know what this one is), Progesterone, Estrace, more syringes than I want to count, 3 different gauges of needles, and 10mg of Valium. I could have used the Valium at the top of this paragraph.

Are you feeling overwhelmed? Because if not, you did not read carefully. This is Mount Everest.

I have mountains of compassion for all women who have gone through this and I have only just started. Having a full life and then taking on IVF is like a second full-time job. And I have only just begun–what’s going to happen to my body, my finances, my mind?? And, the biggest question of all: will it work?

I am about a week into birth control and started the antibiotics last night (coincidentally I have a cold and maybe it will help with that). I attended injection class, along with 2 straight couples, a lesbian couple, and a couple of single women freezing their eggs–very educational. I learned that triplets are rare (maybe 4x/yr at UCSF) and cause for many staff meetings where they discuss “where did we go wrong???” Not your every day occurrence. I paid attention during Gonal-F but zoned out during Follistim, then got an email from Olga that I’ll be switching to Follistim because Gonal-F isn’t covered on my insurance (my reaction: yay, medication covered on my insurance! but damn–should have paid more attention during the Follistim presentation). Had my saline sonogram and mock transfer yesterday, thankfully not at all painful (I had visions of the HSG test and hives)–Dr. Renato said the transfer will be really easy and none of my fibroids are in the cavity: cleared to go forward.

Today, I met with Dr. Tran. As I have mentioned, I love him (as in IN love with him). Today he was in a tie and white coat, his coffee from Peet’s. He is masterful at drawing upside down. I had more or less decided to go with PGS (genetic testing on Day 5) and then had second thoughts when weighing out the cost and the risks. You can either: transfer 3-4 embryos on Day 3 and freeze the rest at that point or let them go to Day 5, lose 60%, genetically test them, freeze them, and later on put back the 1-2 normal ones (for an additional $7k on top of approx $12k). There are huge pros and cons on both sides and no guarantees for any of it, so it’s very complicated and gave me visions of gambling in Reno.. At this point, and on his recommendation, I am hedging my bets–opting for Day 3 in an effort to have a fresh transfer, enough leftover to freeze, and at least a little money left in case I have to do it all again. Higher risk of miscarriage which is terrifying. But I feel like there’s safety in numbers… I’m meeting with a genetic counselor tomorrow just to be informed.

And I start Lupron on Monday night. I might be on the road and this time I know to bring a doctor’s note for airport security (wisdom of experience). I have put my schedule and life and online dating and pretty much everything on hold–everything is canceled except work and health-related appointments. I still need to walk in the fresh air with friends and talk on the phone so–don’t let me drop off the face of the earth. Just know that I am consolidating resources and hunkering down. And I’ll probably write a lot because, as you can tell, this is going to be quite an experience.

And I need you along for the ride xo

family, fertility, IUI, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait, Uncategorized

neg bomb

Our weekend was perfect–so fun and sweet to be living it up together in the big city. So grateful for the opportunity to celebrate our adorable mom.

Postponing testing was a brilliant idea–I let it all go for one more day.

I did some research and realized that progesterone delays your period, so I knew for sure that a late period didn’t mean anything promising (that and my total lack of symptoms). I was 90% sure I wasn’t pregnant.

This morning I woke at 6:30, got brave, and tested. I didn’t even let myself hope for a positive, so by default I rooted for a negative. And I got it.

All I wanted in that moment was to get some reassuring words from SMCs on the national forum but the server was down or something because I couldn’t get through. So I went back to bed. Sharing the news at breakfast brought on a big cry tidal wave that I couldn’t hold back (though I wanted to).

Now I’m on the way out of NYC on a Greyhound bus, the sky hazy. Negative thoughts are holding a drum circle in my brain.

Tired tired tired of this merry-go-round.

[insert hopeful conclusion here]

depression, family, fertility, IUI, IVF, meditation, outdoors, pregnancy, pregnancy loss, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

groove

I just walked back to J’s from the office, stopping for two slices of pizza: one pepperoni and mushroom, one veggie. The pizza is always good here and rarely, if ever, gluten-free. Something was falling out of the sky that was right on the edge of rain/snow, probably hovering just above thirty-two degrees. Thousands of Knicks fans were streaming toward Madison Square Garden and I had to navigate carefully like a fish swimming upstream.

I’ve been in my most typical NYC groove–staying in J’s comfy and overheated one-bedroom, walking the 7 minutes to the office, traveling up to 175th Street to see E and E and their little genius L, eating at the Venezuelan restaurant in Chelsea, running the High Line. These are the rituals.

Now, I’m going to totally blast out of this routine and do everything completely differently: a touristy weekend with my family! It’s so exciting. NYC has no script for this, our family has no script for this. A true adventure. Can’t wait to blast out of this tiny corner of Manhattan and live some meaningful new family memories.

It’s been a good week although emotionally up and down. I started off so together, and then upon landing I got a call from a nurse through my insurance company to say she understands I’m pregnant and I was like…no, I’m not, and she got flustered and asked if I miscarried and then apologized and said “I hate this” and hurried to get off the phone. That was seven months ago, could they update their records?

Then a text that another friend got pregnant on the first try, and a careful heads up that I’d be getting an invitation to a baby shower. I believe I can be truly, unreservedly, wholeheartedly thrilled for friends’ good news and simultaneously punched in the gut–and it’s not a contradiction. The two emotions co-exist in me, and both are true. The punch is visceral…and then guilt over having a bad reaction to good news.

I called my sister for consoling words and she provided them. No, the universe is not ganging up on you. It went back to being a peaceful, sunny day, and I arrived in New York feeling great. Staying centered, getting sleep. Enjoying lovely, warm greetings from friends in the NY office throughout the day.

Then work stress knocked me down. I dragged myself through about 24 hours of a crisis in confidence (so many secondary and tertiary emotions–I’m mad that I’m sad that I’m frustrated etc), cried to J who gets nervous he’ll say the wrong thing, and sometimes does, but I love that he hangs in there and keeps trying. Eventually I am laughing.

I ran the High Line, where I looked for and found this art installation on the side of a building, something my friend S had told me about–breathtaking. I took my morning prenatal and twice-daily progesterone. I drank water, breathed, stayed present.

I felt pregnant-ish until yesterday when I really just didn’t, which added to my emotional distress. Signs of imminent menstruation.

But, since yesterday, I rounded the corner on most of it–dove back into work because the only way to go is forward. Decided that IUIs didn’t work and it’s time for IVF. Decided that I create my own destiny, and it’s a big world once you force yourself out of your groove. Decided I won’t take a month off because the last time I did, I landed in the ER. I have waited 18 weeks’ worth of two week waits. I’m done waiting where there’s a choice involved.

When I caught up with a friend recently, she sighed and said she didn’t think her life would turn out this way. Me neither. But why measure ourselves against an invisible and fictitious standard? Or other people? Or what other people think?

This is real life, how my life turned out, sitting on J’s couch in the quiet of his apartment (he’s at dinner), with rain/snow/sleet falling gently outside on a city about to be re-discovered; pizza in my belly; gratitude, frustration, love, and longing in my heart.

family, meditation, outdoors, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait, writing

focus

It’s the night before a 12-day business trip and I’m absolutely stunned by my level of organization. This seriously hasn’t happened in all my years of crazy work travel.

The evidence: I’m totally packed, including 2 pregnancy tests. My clothes for tomorrow are laying out, the cereal box is out next to an empty bowl, two vitamins sitting beside it. There’s a list on an index card of what I need to remember to pack in the morning. I have a bowl of quinoa and black beans cooling next to me. I’m calling for the morning taxi. And it’s 8:16pm.

Normally, I kick into packing mode around 10pm, regardless of pick-up time (which, tomorrow, is 4:30am). My last post about being in high gear was no joke–I’m so focused right now, I don’t recognize myself. I’m even getting picky (like J) about how I’m folding my clothes and setting things out either parallel or perpendicular. Let’s not get crazy now!

So what is a 12-day business trip about, you ask? Basically, it’s a series of smaller trips strung together for my convenience, involving office days, meetings, visits to colleagues, four nights at J’s place, a work event, and mucho family time in between.

For my Mom’s (milestone!) birthday, my sisters and I are treating her to a decadent weekend in NYC, with all three of us and my Dad! How deluxe and special that we get to share this time together. Then we’re going down to Baltimore where we’ll hang out with my two nieces! This part I just put together this morning and am feeling very gratified that I get to see them and cut out two cross-country flights.

Today, after a glorious hike at Mt. Tam with sweet C, I was at my sister’s house and she asked me if I wanted to pull a Goddess card. I pulled  one that now I can’t remember the name…Nematoma? It was about creating and preserving a sacred space–within yourself, within your home, wherever you go. I took it to be a reminder to keep my commitment to treat myself kindly on the road, to take time to prepare and rest and stay grounded, no matter how much activity is swirling around me. This means going to bed early, running on the chilly Highline, getting up ten minutes earlier to meditate, and blogging. (Undercommitting is approximately 80% harder in NYC.)

And, with that, it’s 9pm. Time for bed, xo

 

anxiety, donor sperm, fertility, IUI, IVF, meditation, outdoors, ovulation, pregnancy, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait

high gear

This is going to be a fast post! Stream of consciousness! Bear with me, here–there’s a lot to update.

I had the IUI on Saturday. As I waited for the doctor, I was again facing the calendar. I counted out the days until the due date in 38 weeks and fixed my eyes on it for minutes in a row. Eventually, the doctor appeared, and she was a young black woman with long braids whom I’d never met before. She had a warm vibe and wished me good luck.  11 million, good motility, McP never disappoints with the numbers. While hanging out for 5-10 mins, I actually started fighting off negative thinking (a big NO), and then remembered that what you resist persists. Let the anxious thoughts flow… it’s OK, and understandable. I thought about babies. Afterward, I took a picture of the exam table so the eventual baby can see where he/she was conceived, ha!

At the front desk, I went out to see Maria who is my BFF. I asked her what she thought and she said she thought things were good, and I should focus on positive thinking. She says she’s somewhat psychic, and I believe her. I asked if I could give her a hug, and she said, “of course!” and I stepped around behind the front desk and she kissed my cheek and gave me a huge hug and wished me luck. I spent much of the weekend sleeping–still sleeping off the cold and the stress of the previous week. On Monday, I felt like a million bucks at my 7am training session.

The challenging nature of this process has required me to create some really good habits. I am more organized than usual, I go to bed earlier and get up earlier, I am cooking more. It’s not that hard to avoid certain foods/drinks (coffee, alcohol, gluten). I actually meditate in the morning, at one far end of my yellow couch, facing the sunrise out the bay window. I am more in love with my friends and my city and my family than ever. I’m happy to know that I can kick into this higher gear when it’s necessary. Self-care has finally become the thing I do, religiously, instead of avoid.

Yesterday morning, I had my IVF consult with Dr. Tran–Olga scheduled it since it can take 3 weeks to get an appt with him, so might as well get that show rolling while waiting for the result of this cycle. In a word, the conversation was fascinating. I’m still incredulous that this is even possible. And, yes C, I got a little excited.

The first thing he asked me after shutting the door was, “How are you feeling?” and I paused and said, “How do you want me to answer that question?” Because, as you know about me by now, I can share a great deal of info at long stretches if not given further guidelines. He said, smiling, “It’s an open-ended question.” I said this has been hard, but I’m doing OK, and feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff called IVF.

That comment got him started down an alternative path, where I would continue doing IUIs but on an injectible cycle if I wasn’t ready for IVF, meaning I’d give myself daily injections to stimulate production of more follicles (4-5). At first I thought, yes–I’m maybe not ready for IVF yet. But then we talked about IVF.

Ultimately, he says, IVF will get me pregnant the quickest and be the most cost-effective. And I know he is on the conservative side…doing injectible IUIs now seems like more time on the slow path. As he said in so many words, I’ve done my due diligence. When I asked his recommendation, he said, “It’s time.”

So, what is the protocol? I’ll try to summarize in a nutshell. First, he recommends taking a month off for my sanity. I have to consider this…it was so hard for me to take a month off in November. But I know that it would feel like a vacation.

Then, on the next cycle, I’d go on birth control for 14-21 days, and do Lupron injections 2 weeks in for 10 days. This will begin to disconnect my brain from my fertility cycle–I’d go on “manual” instead of “automatic.” After the next period, I’d have 2-3 injections per day for 4 days, blood test, ultrasound, HCG trigger, 36 hours later egg retrieval under sedation.

One thing I didn’t know is that every cycle, there are 10-20 eggs that begin to develop, but they all naturally peter out with the exception of one dominant. (And the body does not self-select for the good egg, darn.) The drugs help to keep all 10-20 in the running–so you’re not actually robbing from future cycles, just maximizing the potential you already have. He would expect to “rescue” 10-20, 70% will be bigger than 13mm (7-14), fertilization would occur in 60-70%, leaving 5-10 embryos. They’d put back 3-4 for a 30% success rate with chances of twins in the low teens. Another option is going to Day 5, allowing the embryos to get much bigger and therefore able to be genetically tested–how crazy that they can biopsy such a teensy thing and know virtually everything about it. The catch here is that you automatically lose 60% by letting them go that long. You don’t have to decide which day the transfer is until you know how many you got.

Dr. T. said my questions were “very insightful”–I admitted that I pulled many of them off the SMC national discussion board. I noticed his coffee sitting nearby, from Noah’s Bagels, wondering where he lived near a Noah’s (there isn’t one near UCSF). Also wondered how he took his coffee so I could bring him one next time.

He stood up and put his hand on my shoulder on the way out, wishing me a good day. I thanked him and shook his hand. He spent 45 minutes with me, at 7:30am. I realized upon leaving that I totally forgot during the conversation that I could be pregnant now.

So, this is a lot to process. Please correct me if I got any of these details radically wrong, IVF friends. I’m in the blissful bubble of no decisions, nothing more to do.

Have a great Thursday, team!

anxiety, donor sperm, fertility, IUI, meditation, outdoors, ovulation, running, single mom by choice, SMC, trying to conceive, ttc, two week wait, writing

swim, swimmers, swim

OK, I’m back. That was a long stretch of no writing, but I was so stressed that I actually felt as though writing about it would make the stress expand and devour all of us like The Blob. I needed to walk quietly through the steps of my week. And, miraculously, I made it through.

I went back for the second ultrasound last Saturday, hugely looking forward to learning the timing of the IUI because I had an important non-reschedulable Thurs/Fri business trip coming up.

Two male doctors this time, which in itself seemed foreboding–I’ve gotten so used to women managing this process. Sure enough, one follicle hadn’t progressed while the other only grew one millimeter: they were at 12 and 12. I thought, here’s something else I didn’t know I had to worry about: what if my follicles don’t even grow???

The doctors were nonplussed, said this can be random, no signs of a problem, come back on Tuesday. Which meant THREE MORE DAYS of waiting, holding off on buying my plane ticket, dreading the conversations I’d have to have about canceling. I came home feeling deflated and defeated and it was almost as bad as a BFN.

I spent the next three days living in uncertainty while being as absolutely kind and gentle to myself as I possibly could. Sleep, good food, friends, undercommitting, mani/pedi, candles, meditation, reading Pema. I was majoring in stress reduction. I took a long sunny walk with my sister. I took a long chilly and windy walk with my friend KC. I talked through every angle of every possibility: if Thursday, then if I can get an early appt I’ll jump on a plane. If Friday, I will have the dreaded conversations. If Saturday, I will be back. Tried not to pull my hair out but felt utterly and seriously stretched. I suddenly have more compassion for couples trying to time their tries around business trips and other commitments–all this uncertainty times two is enough to make anyone go mad.

I bought a Pema Chodron book called, “Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change.” She talks about how the ground is always shifting underneath our feet, that feeling anxious about it and clinging to what is known is totally understandable…yet, what if we practice being with the uncertainty, the discomfort of not knowing, and accept that this is part of being human? Stop resisting and be with it, sit with it, let it be what it is. This is REALLY HARD but all you can do is stay with it and realize that everyone has their own version of this, every day. No exaggeration.

On Tuesday, I went for my third ultrasound, feeling as though I had already been through a great battle and was pretty resigned to what the outcome would be. As mellow as I could be under the circumstances.  And, wouldn’t you know, the follies cooperated and gave me the best outcome:

One petered out, but the other was at 15mm, which meant I could go on the trip and come back for the IUI on Saturday. Today!

The nurse said that maybe my intense stress over the timing ironically actually slowed things down (that and having a cold). I had some painful bumps appear on my back last weekend which may be a mild case of shingles. I really turned myself inside out over this one.

Relief flowed like a happy river and I’ve been floating along it ever since. (It almost felt like a BFP and yet still nothing has really happened. The joys of being monitored!)

I packed my trigger shot and went on my overnight trip. While in the security line, it suddenly dawned on me that I had a syringe full of fluid in my purse and um how would I get security with that? Plus, I was with a co-worker already and not inclined to have a conversation about it in front of her. I texted B who traveled for IVF–what do I do? She said she was only asked for a doctor’s note 1 out of 8 times. A doctor’s note, of course I should have considered this… I could just see the whole trip going down in flames…and then it didn’t. They didn’t ask me about it! More gratitude.

From there, everything went smoothly. I triggered on Thursday. I flew home last night. I slept 9 hours, I called the sperm thaw hotline (YES I remembered), made a smoothie with banana, oranges, açai, almond butter, and mixed greens, and eggs with tomatoes, cheese, and basil. I’ll go on a run after this, which I’ve been missing desperately while sick and traveling. I have zero plans for the weekend other than relaxation. My head is finally clear and my cough is gone. I have an underground ovulation pimple on my chin. The sun is shining.

My friend B somehow thoughtfully and precisely tracks my fertility schedule even though she has a very busy life of her own–I get texts like, “happy triggering!” and just got “swim, swimmers, swim!” And to those texting me for updates–thanks for checking and sorry to leave you hanging during my epic week of stress management!

Time for the last IUI and, now that I think about it, the last two week wait (for IVF it’s a one week wait), the last of this phase of the process. It could work. I felt my left ovary twinging on the plane last night, hopefully preparing to blast out the good egg. Here come McPiercy’s millions!

Crazy how my hope keeps resetting–it’s back.