Don't Know Where I'm Going

My E2 levels appear low to me (156 on day 7 of stimming, 753 on day 10 of stimming).

I'm worried I'm not doing the follistim shot correctly.

I think I only have 7 eggs. I think they're around 17-19 mm. Most of them about the same size.

Other than that, I am tired. Worried. But, too busy to figure out whether the E2 numbers are comparable to my prior cycles. Too busy to get on Dr. Google and google the heck out of whether my follicle development is slow or low E2 levels are indication of a problem.

I have some fun shots of Nugget's birthday celebration this weekend and will post them in the next few days.

I'd rather poke my eye out than deal with my insurance company

On Wednesday, the RE upped my meds: in the am 200 follistim, 75 menupor, 20 lupron (same), in the pm 100 follistim, 150 menupor, 20 lupron.

I quickly realized that I was going to run out menupor Friday morning and follistim on Saturday morning. So, being the good little patient, I called my nurse and let her know that I was going to need more medicine. I also called my insurance company to find out if the RE's office would have to call in a new prescription or whether I had refills. They told me I had 3 refills. Perfect. Thus, all I needed to do was figure out how many meds I needed to get through Monday, when I could order more meds (my insurance company's speciality infertility pharmacy is closed on the weekend). That is, if I will need them. I will have been stimming for 12 days at that point.

On Thursday, I called the insurance company's speciality infertility pharmacy to order more meds. They said that I can't get refills and that I need my nurse to fax in a cycle review sheet and a new prescription. Fine. I called my nurse and told her that my insurance company needed this information and gave her their phone and fax numbers. She calls them and faxes over the required information. I don't have time to call again (meetings) until 5:20 and, at this point, the insurance representative says that they can't fill my order because they don't have authorization and that the cycle review sheet hasn't been received. CRAP. I can't get my meds tomorrow.

Friday morning. Bright and f'ing early. I call the insurance company again to figure out why this hasn't been authorized. I call my nurse to figure out what she needs to do to get this authorized.

And, so, here I sit. Mid-day friday. No menupor for tonight. Insurance company says they can't deliver until tomorrow. Thankfully, my RE says they can give me enough menupor to last through tonight. But, they have no follistim, so I *really* need to get that from my insurance company's pharmacy OR ELSE.

Guess where I'm supposed to be tomorrow? At my parent's house. Two hours away. Celebrating my son's second birthday.

Why does this have to be so f'ing complicated???

I may or may not have ended up crying and screaming at the stupid insurance people who all provided me with different information that resulted in me being in this awful position.

If I ever meet you in person: Linda, Melanie, Laura, Raul, Terry, or Kelly....BEWARE.

Things that are breaking my heart

My husband has grown disillusioned with his company and is trying to decide whether he should take a job at a new company or start his own partnership. Big decision, right? This stuff has been keeping him up at night for the past 6 months. Last night, as I was rocking Nugget in his room, we were talking about his successful job interview earlier that day with the Grand Poo-bah at the new company and how they were going to be making my husband an offer. I asked my husband what he thought he would do, where he thought he'd be happier. He leaned over, kissed Nugget's head, sighed and said: "I don't really care what I do. All I care is that we get pregnant."

The sun wasn't even up yet and I awoke this morning to the sound of Nugget chatting away to himself in his room. I suppose he must have been having a conversation with his friends "Car" and "Train" who travel with him everywhere now. I tiptoed to his door and stood listening to his undulating words for a few minutes before I made my way out the door for my morning walk.

I have three tubs of empty needles sitting on top of my bookshelf. Full of empty hope from the last cycles. Maybe I should throw them away.

Tomorrow is Nugget's 2nd birthday.

I wanna RUN

That's it. I'm done. I'm sick of it. I want to go for a nice long run and then I want to go lift weights and then maybe I'll go for a walk. That's right. All in one day. What are you gonna do about it?

I'm having a *really* hard time giving up the exercise this time. Because you know what? I did this 2 x already. Stopped everything. And, both times: still negative.

A dear friend reminded me that we have a level playing field this time because I no longer (hopefully) have endometritis. But, who knows? Maybe I do? Maybe I'll never get pregnant.

I'm so angry at all of this. Angry that I have wasted the last 11 months of my life trying for something and getting nothing. Angry that every freaking member of my family tells me that I should just move on to adoption because everyone gets pregnant when they adopt. WHAT?!

And, then I sigh. And try to get some perspective.

Think about my husband's boss whose son is being operated on today for a brain tumor. He's seven. They adopted him after dealing with infertility for several years. How is that fair, life?

Think about people that have been trying longer, harder, and spent more money.

I still want to run, though. A nice 10 mile run. So that my legs just start to ache a little.

My doctor says only "moderate exercise." But, as a compulsive exerciser, I'm really not sure WHAT that means. Technically, he says, 20 miles a week or less. Fine. Check. But, what about the elliptical? What about weights? What about yoga? Walking? Can I do that, too? And, can I do more than one in a day? I haven't yet...but I'm tempted.

Part of me just feels hopeless. Like this will never work. Why give up everything again to get another failure?

Truly rotten blogger.

In addition to not blogging for the past two weeks, I also didn't comment on anyone's blogs.

Life has been busy.
Which is a good thing.
I've been working LOTS, which I don't like, but it makes time pass.

And, we've had busy fun weekends and nights with little time to roam the internet for pointless hours.

Apple-picking. Visiting the local farm that delivers our organic dairy and meat. Hanging out with my poppop. Going out for a nice date night, including wine! Neighborhood halloween parties. Etc. Etc.

So, as for my cycle, I stopped BCP and antibiotics yesterday and went in for monitoring today. I've been lightly bleeding the whole 3 weeks, but more so in the past week. My body WANTS a period. I haven't let it had one since early September after the BFN.

I'm so scared for this cycle. We've maxed out both our credit cards…um, with their $5K limits. This cycle, which I thought would cost less, is actually going to cost slightly more. I dropped $2K on drugs yesterday and then put in $5K advance for medical treatments (we have 50% coverage under our insurance for 3 cycles). We usually have $1-2K in additional charges and if we do any sort of freezing it will be more. After our failed FET this past summer, we've taken the attitude that FETs don't work and there is no point in freezing unless there are at least 4 leftover embryos… Of course, I say that theoretically. If we have any embryos that are viable enough to freeze, my mind might change. I feel so protective of my embryos. But at $2-$3K to freeze…I'm tempted to save that $$ toward a fresh cycle.

I don't know how to abide this fear. I just keep repeating to myself:

This is just one big experiment.
They found the potential problem.
You are starting this cycle with a healthier body.

*********************************************
UPDATE: I started my drugs last night. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Adoption??

Lately, I have been thinking a lot more about adoption. Part of me is tired of trying. Tired of the drugs. Tired of having our life on hold.

And, the other part of me just aches for a fuller house. Another child.

There are two families in my neighborhood that I know through our community babysitting co-op. At a BBQ last summer, one of the mothers mentioned that she was tired of the infertility roller coaster, so they decided to adopt. It's been nagging at the back of my mind ever since. So, two weeks ago, I emailed both moms and asked if we could get together for some wine and ... my ulterior motive of asking them about adoption. One pursued domestic, the other interational.

It was such a heartening conversation. Both women went through infertility and decided that they have had enough. It took a few years, but they said that now they feel whole. That these were the children that God meant for them to have.

In the evening before dinner, the one family's three little kids ride their scooters up and down my block. Three little orbs circling their mother. And, I think to myself, that could be me.

I realized the other day that I don't care if the baby is brown, or black, or white, or purple (well, maybe purple because that might indicate a breathing issue). I don't care if my baby isn't a baby.

I just want a family with multiple kids.

I know that adoption is a journey in and off itself. And, there are no guarantees that it will be a painfree process.

So, now what? My husband wants to at least do the two more cycles that we have 50% coverage for. I'd like us to reach a decision about whether we would do international or domestic, open or closed adoption, etc. I'd also like us to pick an agency. Get a homestudy. Move forward.

If anyone has websites they'd recommend or friends they'd like to refer me to, please let me know.

If a Girl Runs Alone in the Dark....

Does it count as running??

Since my marathon in the spring, I have not been training. No track workouts. No weight lifting. No exercising for a goal.

And, now, with the crispness of fall in the mornings, I find my body aching to race again. To be fast. To push the limits. To be strong and hard.

Due to my two month pause since my last IVF cycle, my running has steadily returned. Not to my prior levels, but somewhere around 30-40 miles per week (OK, I don't know that I've run more than 35 because I haven't been keeping exact tabs, but I think I might be closer to 40 this week, if I am able to run once on the weekend).

In the beginning, my legs would scream after three miles. In fact, I even began to understand why people hate running. It hurts.

And, slowly, slowly, my legs felt stronger and could carry my body for longer distances.

I felt like a stabled horse, begging to be let free.

My old running friends (whom I no longer see or speak to, because, really, what would I have to say to them?) are kicking out PRs, 2:52 marathons, and here I sit. Soft and round. Aching to be them.

I should hold myself back...but, oh I miss it. Shhhh! Don't tell anyone but last Saturday I ran 10 miles. And loved every minute of it.