Innocuous Little Pill

After hemming and hawing, I finally started my progesterone pills.  I was supposed to be 100% weaned, but from my research, I couldn’t find negative affects for short-term usage of progesterone.  I figured that if I was only nursing baby girl 2-3 times a day that the impact would be minimal.  It’s probably terrible to admit this.  It’s the truth.  And, it’s my choice.  I finished the pills two weeks ago, but still haven’t gotten my period.  With Nugget, they ended up having to give me an HCG shot to make me ovulate after taking progesterone.  I’m going into the Big Clinic tomorrow to get an ultrasound and bloodwork to figure out what is going on.

It seemed like nothing...taking the little pill.  But, it is a step in a direction, the slow gathering of momentum before we go hurtling down the infertility rabbit hole again.  I am still ambivalent.   I still keep thinking and dealing with attempting for another child and all the feelings of defeat that infertility involves up on a shelf in the back of my brain.  I don't want to delve too deeply into it until necessary.

Otherwise?  I’m tired.  This 2 parents working with 2 kids in 2 different day cares is exhausting.  I hate how little time I get to spend with my kids.  I have Fridays off, but I usually end up going to doctor’s appointments, running errands, doing chores,and other general life maintenance stuff since my husband doesn’t have time for any of those sort of things.  I’m managing to fit in 2-4 hours a week of studying for the GREs, which I am supposed to take in early September.  I’m starting teleworking this week and hope that brings some relief from our insane schedule.  I am not happy being this busy.  I long for the days of my maternity leave where I could plan out a nice meal every night and take time just to giggle with baby Girl.  I dream about being a stay-at-home mom, but don’t know if that would bring me happiness.  I think I just need to accept that life is busy, I am perpetually tired, and there isn’t enough time to enjoy the kiddos.

Nugget is changing in so many ways. I tell myself that I will be able to remember all the cute little anecdotes about him, but I worry that I won’t.  He’s lately obsessed with putting on costumes.  Except…he has to be fully nude before putting on a new costume.  So, he’ll dress up as a pirate.  Strip down naked. Dress up as a knight wearing just a sword, shield, and helmet running around the house without anything else on.  I’ll often happen up him lying on the floor motionless.  He’ll whisper: “I dead” as I pass him.  15 minutes later he's still just laying there.  Some mornings when I go to wake him he’ll already be fully attired in his “bad guy” costume, ready for battle.  His language has improved significantly.  He’s start mimicking everything I say, repeating it back to me without knowing what he’s saying.  “Yeah, the bill is going to be late.”  Or “Yeah, the turkey’s not done.”  Or other such phrases which seem too serious or inappropriate for such a small person to say.  He’s also grown at least four inches.  He’s become a bundle of angles.  He no longer wants me to kiss him, but welcomes licking.  He frequently picks his nose and wipes it on things.  When I tell him not to wipe his buggers on the dojo, or the sofa, or the park bench, he’ll respond: “I like buggers.” As if that is a reasonable justification for wiping them on anything he pleases.

Baby Girl is still the most smilingist (that's a word, right?) baby, but is not as happy as she once was.  She’s getting frustrated that she can’t manipulate things the way she would like.  I think as she becomes more mobile she will be happier.  She doesn’t show any signs of crawling soon, but her fine motor skills are progressing.  She can pick up small objects like a cheerio or a raisin and put them in her mouth.  She LOVES eating.  She eats 1-2 level 2 cartons of food at every meal.  She’s only drinking 6-12 ounces of milk at day care.  I worry that she’s not as smiley as she used to be because people aren’t interacting with her enough at daycare.  But, then we'll have a brilliant morning cuddling in bed and I will assume again that all is right with the world.

As for me, I’m happy, I’m stressed.  But, I’m feeling like I’ve come to an angle of repose about my life.  It just is what it is.  I’m an older parent than I thought I’d be.  I don’t have a career that is as fulfilling as I’d like it to be.  I wish we had a little more space in our house. But, I’m surviving.  I have my two interesting, individual kids.  I have good friends, I like my husband, I like where we live.  I’m very happy with my body right now.  I’m still not running at the same paces I used to hit, but I’ve been doing Crossfit and I have to say that I LOVE the changes I’m seeing in my body.  I have abdominal definition (despite the mummy tummy).  I have biceps.  I weigh more than I did pre-IVF, but I am fitting into all my “skinny” clothes.  I’m attributing the additional weight to the new muscles I’ve found.  And, well, it's good enough.  I just don't have the time or the space in my head to care more about it.

Most of all, I have faith that I will figure out a way to make more balance in our life.  That I will eventually figure out a more fulfilling career.  That regardless of what happens in these upcoming IVF cycles that my life will be good and I will be happy.  I can only hope that I hold on to this perspective.

Do I REALLY want to do this again?

A Photo from Ic.eland

I'll refrain from starting another blog post after a month hiatus begging forgiveness for my lack of commenting and blogging.  I have much to update.  We've been to Ic.eland (GO THERE!) and it was great.  Baby Girl is full of laughs and giggles and sitting on her own.  Nugget is a little pistol that's recently found whining and has decided that monsters, pirates, and bad guys are no longer fun, but scary.  I've started back to work and am working Monday thru Thursday.  I use Friday as my "figuring out what I want to do with my life" day to conduct informational interviews, study for the GREs, and obsessively research mid-career change on the internet.

And, I've started to wean Baby Girl.  It is emotional.  It feels wrong.  But, it is happening.  I only pump one time at work, but Baby Girl is eating two times while at daycare.  I still nurse her in the mornings and evenings.  She refuses to eat from a bottle on the weekends, so this is hampering progress a bit.  But, I'm going to only pump once a day while at work until she starts drinking from a bottle for us.  Then, I'll only nurse her in the morning and the evening.  And, eventually, my milk will dry up.

Today I went to my RE clinic to have bloodwork and an ultrasound.  My period still hasn't come....although I haven't expected it to given that we had to use drugs to induce my period at 14 months post Nugget.  My antral follicle count was 9, so it was reassuring that my numbers haven't dropped drastically in the past 14 months.

I don't know if I want to do this again.  I don't know if I want a 3rd kid.  I know that I don't want to have regrets about not trying for a 3rd kid.  I know that I love having my two beautiful children and feel that our family is complete regardless of what happens with additional cycles.  So, I think we will use the last 2 cycles that we have covered 50% by insurance and, if we don't get pregnant, reassess as to whether we would like to continue.  The good news is that my husband got a job, so that takes a bit of the financial strain off.  It was a little crazy to think about having to spend $15,000/cycle for IVF when my husband was out of work.

Where Have I Been?

I've been chasing butterflies in the park with my son.

I've been tapering and then running a half marathon (1:26:22 for those that care).

I've been visiting with old friends and their special babies.

I've been trying trying trying to convince my baby girl that she really likes the bottle better than the boob and failing.

I've been hoping as I tuck my little boy into bed that he'll say "Lay down to me" and sighing as I walk away because he no longer asks.

I've been trying to get myself accustomed to waking up early in the morning, putting on my make-up, and heading into the office.

I've been preparing for our big trip to Iceland (woot! woot!).

I've been feeling like a failure at work and wondering how I managed to let the past 12 years of my professional life slip away without REALLY figuring out what I want to do.

I've been studying for the GRE's and doing informational interviews with people.

I've been enjoying lots of time with my husband.

I've been so happy.

I've felt so insecure.

I've wanted to write.

I've wanted to comment on other people's blogs.

I've been trying to wrap my head around IVF again.

I've been drinking too much wine and eating too much peanut butter.

I've been cherishing my beautiful, amazing miracle baby and missing each passed day as she gets older.

Advocacy

I was supposed to go advocate for RESOLVE on the Hill today.  But, since JuJuBean refuses a bottle, I can't be away from her for a day.  I feel really passionately about it and would have loved to participate.

But, the thing is...I can't get myself to open up about our experience with infertility to those outside my inner circle.  I don't understand my ambivalence. I see friends posting on FB about NIAW and I can't bring myself to post anything.

To quote Emily Dickinson, it feels:

"How public – like a Frog – 
To tell one's name – the livelong June – 
To an admiring Bog!"

Perhaps this is more a function of the range of people I am friends with on FB? If I posted on FB, I would be letting work colleagues and casual high school friends and ex-boyfriends, etc. know about my infertility.

The truth is:  I'm deeply embarrassed.  That it took us five cycles of IVF to conceive our daughter seems somehow TOO infertile to share with the world.  In my mind, one or two cycles is your garden-variety infertility.  A little bump in the road.  But, FIVE cycles?  Wow.  You're REALLY infertile.  You're REALLY a failure if you had to go through that much IVF to get pregnant.  It would feel like shouting to the world: come look at our freak show sex life.  All you NORMAL people can have sex to have babies, but we had to involve a menagerie of doctors and embryologists and drugs and procedures to get knocked up.  I don't want to expose our personal, private struggle to the world.  I don't want acquaintances to look askance at us and think "those poor infertile people."  I wonder if people will think: they must have been too old or she must have run too much.  I realize I am perpetuating misguided and inaccurate perceptions by not educating people about infertility.  Why am I not willing to put myself out there?  Why won't I make a stand for something I believe in? 

I've talked to my husband about it and he thinks that we just don't want to go back to the IVF cave and all the darkness it entailed.  But, do we ever really leave all that behind us?  I still cringe when people make innocuous jokes about "keeping [their] legs crossed so [they] don't get knocked up," etc. 

I think I just don't have the strength of spirit to put myself out there.  Which isn't a quality to admire. 

Why have I, the queen of over-sharing, become so private?

Opinions and public flogging acceptable.

Conception

A year ago yesterday, my precious little girl was either a 7-cell or 8-cell embryo that was transferred into me.

I post this picture here because it is a special, private moment with her, happily nursing.  For the past year, I have sustained her either in my womb or via my breast milk.  What a difference a year makes.

What a difference two years makes...this time two years ago, I ran a marathon and hung up my running shoes to begin the IVF process.

I wonder where I will be a year from now.  Will I be pregnant again?  Will I have failed in our attempt for a third child?  Will I have wished I had weaned my daughter sooner?  Will I be quitting my job to change careers?  After the precipice of this next month and my husband no longer having a job, I have no idea where I will be.  It's scary to have no sense of the future...but at the same time it is centering.  All I know is this day.


Two great things happened today:
1. I had an AMAZING 15.6 mile run.  I felt strong.  I felt light.  I have no idea how fast I ran, but it was the first long run post-partum where I finished feeling great rather than completely spent.
2. I bought 4 GRE books.  Regardless of the unknowns, I am confident that I will have to take the GREs at some point in the next 5 years, so why not now?  Change begins with small steps and I am slowly making them to the future unknown.

A Trip to the ER

On Friday, my husband started having chest pains.

My husband who only goes to doctors when symptoms have reached some critical state which cannot be ignored.

We're sitting down, finally relaxing with respective glasses of wine after putting the kids to bed, when he leans over his knees, gasping. He tells me he can't catch his breath.

Commence Internet research.

We tried to find something, anything on the Internets which would indicate that this is not a Major Situation. All decision trees lead to Go To The ER Immediately.

So, at 9:30, we frantically call my sister-in-law and ask her to come watch the kids.

We spend the next four hours in the hospital. Getting EKG tests, blood tests, pokes and prods.

Summation: anxiety.

No indication of a heart attack or a blood clot or anything else that might have caused the pain.

Two weeks into No Job status and we're both hyperventilating a little. Wanting for a safety net. Considering canceling summer vacation plans. Trying to figure out how long our money will last. If we can afford fertility treatments. If we can afford another kid. If I need to go back to work full-time and immediately.

But, I will take this Unknowing over the Unknowing we faced this time last year. As irritating as it is not to know what life holds for us in six months, the big questions are answered. Will I get to experience pregnancy again? Will my son get to be a brother? The small questions can be answered later. Will I get to reboot my career? Will we get to move into a house that doesn't turn into a sauna in the summer due to lack of insulation and crappy air conditioning?

I have to remind myself that the smaller questions aren't as important. And, to not feel sorry for myself for hitting a rough patch again. It's so easy to slip down into the mire of depressed attitude about all of this. Get back up and start the good fight again.

RE Again

I went to the clinic where we had success on our last cycle. I can't say that I love the RE...but we got pregnant and I think they have the best lab locally...and I have two more cycles covered by insurance at said clinic...so, I'm going back to him. He gives pat, succinct answers and really doesn't explain WHY or HOW he reached the decision that he did. As an aside, it seems to me that he has a knee-jerk assessment of our treatment plan and doesn't really THINK about things.

My RE says I need to stop breastfeeding NOW and get started on a cycle as soon as possible as time is not on my side. I'm turning 34 in two weeks. With diminished ovarian reserve....this is more like turning 44. He says that it will take 4-6 weeks after I stop breastfeeding to get my period. Or, I might not get my period and they would have to give me Provera for 10-14 days to bring on my period. Then, they'd have to do Day 3 bloodwork, another HSG, another semen analysis, and infectious disease testing again. Then, he could start me on the estrogen patch for estrogen priming and the next cycles I could do IVF. That whole process could take 12-16 weeks for me even to GET to the start line for IVF. Which is why he thinks we should get started NOW.

I hate my body. Hate it. Hate it for being such a failure. Hate it for giving me these crappy ovaries. Hate it for causing me to spend the past five and a half years worrying about and trying to get pregnant. I look in the mirror at my wrinkles and feel so ashamed that I am so old and trying to get pregnant. This wasn't the plan. I was supposed to be a "youngish" mother. I hate that my sucky body may be causing me to not provide my daughter with the time and nurturing she needs through breastfeeding.

Sometimes I think I should just stop trying while I am ahead. I have two beautiful children that fill me up. Last night, I sat in the rocking chair nursing my little girl and reading bedtime stories to my little boy and I felt so happy and full. They are these two beautiful little human beings. With two, I have the time to get to know each of them, to spend time on them and indulge their interests. I worry that with three I'll be spread too thin and won't be able to give them the attention they need.

And, my heart ACHES when I think about stopping breastfeeding. It's not even a possibility at this point as baby girl REFUSES to take a bottle. Yes, we've tried five different bottles. We've tried me feeding her. My husband feeding her. I've left the house and basically STARVED her. But, baby girl LOVES the boob and won't take anything else.

I know everything seems SO IMPORTANT right now...when a couple of years from now it won't matter so much if she was breastfed for four months or six months or twelve months. But, right now...I feel like I want to concentrate on the baby I have versus some baby that I could possibly have...but likely not. I need a paradigm shift.

Sigh.