Give me an "E" for Estrogen!

For the past couple of weeks, I have been obsessing on my estrogen levels. They have gone from 155 on 6/13 to 85 on 6/20 to 55 on 6/28 to 25 on 7/9. WTF? Why were my estrogen levels dropping?

I started doing research on low estrogen levels and found that they are typical of people that eat too little (read anorexics) and exercise too much. I know I definitely don't fall into the first category (hello, peanut butter and icecream, my friend!) as my pants are all feeling a bit too tight, but maybe I did fall into the 2nd category? I don't really know what qualifies as "excessive" exercise. Being the little analyst that I am, I spent obsessive hours researching it. Seems the only studies available indicate that "moderate" exercise is 20 miles of running per week, but these were studies of previously sedentary people. What about fit people? I couldn't find any studies that indicated "moderate" activity levels for fit people. So, I figured that running 30-40 miles per week was definitely "moderate" in comparison to running 60-90 miles per week.

Then, I got the 7/9 bloodtest that had me back at the ammenhorea levels. Of course, I freaked out and decided that infertility had completely broken my will and I needed to just quit it with the running. So, the past two weeks I have run 20 and 10 miles respectively. As in the TOTAL amount of miles for the week. Not miles run in a day. Talk about a taper.

And, guess what? Mother Nature rewarded me!! My estrogen levels are now 109!! Woohoo!

They think I might even ovulate on my own in the next week or so. That means we can get CD3 bloodwork and get this sucker covered!!

Even better news is that we might be able to jump on my husband's insurance, which covers $15K of infertility treatment! Woohoo!

Slowly, slowly, my heart is coming around and finding hope in the world again.

Waiting waiting waiting waiting waiting

Any menstrual women out there want to come hang out with me? I'm hoping you can send some pheromones my way and make that bloody b*tch come. Unfortunately, my doctor won't prescribe any medication to bring on my period (which may delayed due to our failed frozen embryo transfer, or my previously high level of exercise and resulting low estrogen, or who the heck knows why). I'm on CD 35 waiting waiting waiting waiting waiting for my period. So I can get my CD 3 bloodwork done. So I can finally get started on IVF.

Nearly 8 months now I've been trying to get pregnant and on hormones. People all around me have started trying, gotten pregnant, and are moving on, buying cribs, picking out baby names. Everyone is on fast-forward jumping through life phases and I am stuck.

I'm trying to find a new normal. I had desperately wanted "stair step" children close in age, but looks like now they'll be 3-5 years apart (assuming I can have any more children). It isn't the picture I wanted. It has been helpful to meet other couples who didn't immediately jump into having their next child and see that they're lives are still desirable.

We have decided that if by August 1st none of the following happens: the bloody b*tch comes (which would put me at CD51), or any of the three fertility doctors I have appointments with in the next two weeks won't prescribe something to bring on my period, or we can't get the insurance company to approve our appeal to their IVF denial, then we're going to pay for it out of pocket. Over $10K. I'll have to go back to work full-time. We'll have to put some of it on credit cards. But, we're not going to waste any more time waiting. We're going to take control and move forward with our life.

Hole in My Heart

It's been a difficult couple of weeks. My grandmother passed away on June 17th. All told, she lived three months after her official diagnosis for Stage IV lung cancer. In the weeks before her death, she had been undergoing chemotherapy treatments because she believed she could "beat this thing." Unfortunately, the chemo treatments only made her weaker and more susceptible to disease. She died of an infection in her lungs, which resulted in reduced lung capacity, and ultimately she suffocated because she couldn't get enough oxygen. While she lay dying in her hospital bed, she remained positive, making jokes and expressing concern for us. I cannot explain how helpless one feels to watch someone they love writhe in pain, trying to find a comfortable position, knowing that no position was going to remove the pain of dying. We held her hand, stroked her hair, tried to cajole her into eating small bites of sherbert and drink sips of water. But, at some point, we began to realize that this was futile and that she was slowly detaching from the physical world. I don't know if one ever gets to the point where they accept their fate, but I do think that one gets weary. And, the alternative is more attractive than struggling to survive.

Just beyond my computer, I have a picture of my grandmother with Nugget reaching out and touching her face. It was taken a little under a year ago. I stare at it often and can hear her voice in my head. She called three times to congratulate me after getting 5th place in the Fall Marathon. She may not have understood why I ran, but she supported it and told everyone she knew about her "fast" granddaughter. I had several people come up to me at the funeral who asked if I was the runner. I feel so blessed that she got to meet my son and delight in his antics. He's actually named for her father, who she idolized. How can I explain to you what a special woman she was? She was always learning...in fact, prior to getting sick she had been taking courses on world economics and algebra. She never wanted to stop growing and wasn't afraid to try new things. How many grandmother's do you know that have a Facebook account? She had busy, creative hands that were constantly knitting, weaving, sewing, or making some other hand-good. I too often spend my time wondering what I am accomplishing with my life, trying to write my obituary to see if it would have meaning. I helped my grandfather write gmom's obituary. It was simple and some said it was beautiful, but I felt it barely reflected who she was: she loved her family, she wanted to better understand the world, she was a quiet woman with an adventurous heart. Words can't capture her. It reminded me that all these things that we hold on to so dearly, that we think define us, all go away the moment we leave and all that is left is the memories we leave with others.

Parallel to mourning her loss, I am still reeling from the failed FET. I didn't want to be defined by infertility again and have it swallow my life. But, I sit deep in the vortex of its belly. There is little light here in this purgatory. Everywhere I go, I am reminded by my failure. Pregnant bellies with smiling mothers. Two or three toddlers in tow. Whole families. Complete families that I assume don't know the daily, physical pain of infertility. That blithely ask "when are you going to give Nugget a brother or sister?" I am trying to find my zen calm place, but I am raging at life for dealing me this crap set of cards. I have been fighting the rage and trying to "be a better person," but have recently decided to allow myself this time to be angry. I am grieving and it is unfair of me to expect to just move on.

We are currently fighting with my insurance company to get coverage. While my husband's morphology automatically qualifies us for IVF, they also want to see unmedicated Day 3 bloodwork to check my FSH levels and make sure that I'm not in early menopause or have diminished ovarian reserve or anything. Unfortunately, I haven't had an unmedicated cycle since January. Every cycle we've been doing Clomid or some other drug to give my hubby "extra targets." So, now I just have to wait for my period. Who knows how long that will take. I'm on day 21 and STILL haven't ovulated. In fact, my estrogen levels keep dipping lower and lower. I'm worried that all this stress is preventing me from ovulating and that we'll just end up waiting for months and months and my period will never come.

I'm only running 4-5 days a week, 6-10 miles at a time. I ache to train again. My running club buddies keep asking when I'm going to come to the track and I see their race results getting faster and faster. I know that my goal isn't to be racing right now, but I miss the things that define me. My body has gotten soft and weak. I went to move one of those big water jugs for the cooler at work the other day and it was much harder than I remember it being. Plus, I can't run faster than a 9 minute pace without feeling like I'm pulling muscles. Guess 2-3 weeks off will do that.

So, all in all, I'm a big, miserable, b*tchy, grump right now that is fully consumed by infertility. It is hard to come here and post because I have nothing new to report.

Still infertile? Check.
Still not training? Check.
Still depressed? Check.

I try to find the joy in life. I try to enjoy the few happy, smiling moments I have with Nugget.

But, infertility is a huge cloud that distorts everything in my life. I cannot see this for what it is: a difficult phase that will pass with time. I just see it as time spent feeling like I have a huge hole in my chest that is slowly draining the life out of me.

It didn't work

Took a HPT today. Negative.

Now what?

I hate this. I almost just want to move on to adoption.

Embryo Transfer

Well, it's done. All I have to do now is wait.

The transfer itself went fine, but unfortunately only one survived the thaw process. I was devastated when the embryologist told me right before the transfer. I sobbed the whole transfer and pretty much all day Thursday and Friday. There's only a 35% success rate with one embryo (50% with two).

So, I'm not very hopeful that this will work. I feel like we just wasted two months (six months total) and $5k. I wish we'd done the fresh cycle.

Here's hoping I make it the next 12 days.

Thumbs Up

Thanks so much for your sweet comments. I'm trying to keep my spirits up. I finally got my period, so I'm fully in the FET cycle now. The transfer is scheduled for 5/27/2010 and I find out the results 6/10/2010. I just added estradial shots to the mix and they are making me so nauseous that I'm having a hard time eating/keeping food down.

Nugget's 18 month appointment was this past Friday. He's grown like a weed since his 15 month appointment: 3 inches in height, moving from the 5th to 50th percentile in height!! He also moved from the 3rd to 4th percentile in weight. Little guy is still wearing his 6-9 month shorts from last summer....he's such a string bean!

He's so much fun these days and *really* into all things cleaning....

He added FIVE new words to his vocabulary: hummus (my favorite), please (awww), poop (yuck!), fish, and water. This basically doubles his vocabularly. He's not the most verbose toddler, but he seems to be learning with greater rapidity, which makes me hopeful.

Running-wise, I've been hovering around 50-60 miles per week. I think I might shoot for 60-70 miles per week until the transfer, after which I will do nothing but walk and light yoga. My team-mates and coach have been asking when I'm going to return to the track. I'm too afraid to do any speed workouts until I get the pregnancy results...and even then I might wait until we get a heartbeat.

Hope you all are doing well!

Swallowing My Words

I haven't been posting/commenting much because I've found it hard to come to this blog and see the updates with so many people pregnant. I'm really struggling with our infertility. Most days I can make it through the morning...but by noon...as the monotony of the day wears in and I am away from Nugget, the fear slowly starts to seep in. The fear that this won't work and that we'll have to do it again. That we're gambling on a losing bet. That I'll have to hear about one more person getting pregnant while we struggle. That someone will ask me what my next race is and I'll have the swallow the words I want to say: I'm not running because we're spending a sh*tload of money on fertility treatments and they'd better d@mn well work because we only have enough for two cycles and running a race is the least of my freaking concerns. All I want to do is hold Nugget and be with him...because he takes my mind off all of this. He reminds me that there is hope. And, I'm worried that he'll be our only baby and I certainly don't want to be wasting my precious time with him at work. It's all I can do to manage the bare minimum at work. I just can't stand being there, away from him.

In terms of the process, I've been taking Lupron shots for 8 days, waiting for my period to come so that we can start the FET cycle. It should come 7-12 days after starting Lupron, but I have no symptoms of Aunt Flo in sight.

Sigh.

Here are some shots of Nugget that make me happy: