A Bad Infertile?

Today I went back to the fertility clinic for the first time since I was seven weeks pregnant.  It was… strange, but absurdly familiar.  I never thought I’d be back so soon, since my little one is only eight months old, but after an email exchange with my reproductive endocrinologist, we both decided that it would be a good idea for me to have my AMH tested.  Since it went from a 6.9 to a 1.3-.67 in just one year, it is likely that I have Premature Ovarian Failure.  I asked my RE if he thought it would be a good idea to see how much it’s dropped in the past year and a half so that we could decide on a course of hormone therapy once little miss is weaned.  If it is at an undetectable level, then I would not go on birth control (which would be needed to control my PCOS symptoms), I would go on hormones to help with the premature menopause.  Wow, forgot how messed up I was — reproductively speaking!  I also found out while I was there that my best blood taking vein was permanently scared from all my blood draws during IVF.  Holy cow.  That is unreal!  I guess it’s to be expected when I only have one usable vein though.

Anyway, while I was there, one of the guys at the front asked me if I was there for my second round.  (I had little miss with me).  I quickly, without thought, said “NO WAY!!”  Then I laughed and said “she is only eight months, so I definitely need a little time!”  He then said “Oh, okay.”  I guess having someone with fertility problems be so quick to say “NO!” when asked about more babies is rare.  So, does it make me a bad infertile if I am pretty sure that I will not want to have another baby?  Is it okay, in our community, to decide that an only is the right choice for their family?  I know that when someone struggles so much for babies, they can sometimes get baby fever so bad that they will continue until their bodies crash (I saw a lady at the specialist who had a three year old, a one year old, and a four month old — all conceived through fertility treatments), desiring as many babies as possible, but I do not feel that way.  I feel like another baby would be too much for me.  I think it is important to go with what works for your family, for your sanity, and for your heart.

My husband and my little girl are my entire world.  I cannot imagine sharing it with anyone else.  Could my mind change in the next few years?  Yes, maybe, I’m keeping my mind open, but I wonder if I am in the minority when it comes to be an infertile who desires to have only one child.

Any other infertiles who stopped at one on purpose?

(I will post the results of my AMH once I hear back from the RE — Hopefully tomorrow!)

The Icky Feeling Of Uber Hormones

It’s pointless to say that injecting 600 units of hormone inducing medicines into your body will make you feel “off.”  Most of you are with me on this, or soon will be, or have been.  I feel like a pin cushion.  Good thing it’s only one injection a night.  Luckily, I’ve only had one visible bruise, the rest of them can only be felt and not seen.  I am feeling tired, very tired… exhausted.  I remember this from the IUI rounds, but I feel like it’s doubled with this amount of meds.  My abdomen feels like it’s pressurized (which I guess is good? Go ovaries, go?) and my back is achy.  Headaches are standard, and feeling “out of it” is an understatement.  My husband likes to giggle at my “out of itness,”  I don’t blame him, I feel like I’m barely functioning the past couple days.

I think my exhaustion and space cadet status are all exaggerated by my fear that we may have to give up on this cycle, therefore giving up on biological children.  It’s scary.  I had prepared myself for maybe the fresh cycle not taking an having to try a frozen, and maybe even the frozen not working, but not even being able to implant anything is just not something I saw coming.  I keep wanting to blame ourselves for taking the nine months off between IUI and IVF, but, come on, who could have known that my overflowing PCOS ovaries were going to empty out?  No one on earth could have seen that coming.  My doctor is still completely confused by it, and he’s a fertility specialist that does this for a living.  If that’s not saying something, I don’t know what is.

I don’t believe in that “everything happens for a reason” thing.  I used to, but then I realized that if I believed in that, I’d have to believe that there is a reason for kids being molested and murdered, and that is not a possibility.  Plus, there is no reason that this universe wouldn’t want a little baby made of half me, half my husband, because we are adorable!  🙂

8:15am tomorrow morning…. bring it.

The Reality

I am all about facing the reality of a situation.  I can see every side of a situation.  I know what is possible and can mentally wrap my head around anything.  It doesn’t mean I won’t be upset by something bad happening, but it does mean that I will already have an idea as to how I will feel if the situation does turn negative.

I’ve been mentally preparing myself since our miscarriage in November.  I told myself that this whole baby thing might not be a possibility for us.  After all, I’ve never been able to imagine myself as pregnant.  I always thought that was meaningful somehow.  We kept on keeping on though.  My ovarian reserve was good, I was responding well to the medicines and my husbands numbers were going up every IUI.  His numbers were probably due to the fact that I was too uncomfortable from the swollen ovaries to want to have sex, but whatever was doing it, everything was going well.

After our third IUI failed, I was pretty miserable.  I kept thinking back to the four days I was pregnant before I got the second Beta back and the news that I would soon start my period.  I could not find my happy place.  I started spending a lot of time to myself.  I read a lot to keep myself busy and distracted.  It wasn’t until I read the book, The Varieties of the Scientific Experience: A Personal View of the Search for God by Carl Sagan, that I realized what was truly wrong.  I was putting too much thought into why God wouldn’t want us to have children.  I mean, I have an aunt who is out of her mind on pills every single day and she had been able to have three children.  So why not us?  What had we done wrong?  Why were we unable to have a child?  It didn’t make any sense.  We are good, caring, lovable people.  We have the income to support a child, and the love to help one grow.  It wasn’t until I read this book that I realized things are not determined by a big guy sitting on a throne picking out people at random who were and were not able to have kids.  No one saying who was good enough, or devoted enough to deserve children.  The ability to have children is medical.  Some people can’t see, some can’t walk, some can’t talk, some can’t make insulin, some can’t think without hearing voices…. and some can’t make babies.  Period.  It’s that simple.  It’s not a punishment.  People don’t get to have children because they are better than others, or more devote, they just get to have children because medically, they can.  This really helped me out a lot back in January, and I think it’s going to help me out now.

I just got off the phone with my doctor.  I sent him an email last night to ask about how much more medicine I need to order, and the email blossomed into “how do you think everything is going” and “do you think I have premature ovarian failure?” Well, the results of the scan on Wednesday, along with the estrogen level of 119 was not good.  In his words “the results are not off to a good start.”  He says it’s still too early to determine whether or not things are definitely good or definitely bad, but he is concerned.  He says Saturday will give him a better indication of how things are working and we can go from there.  In regard to the POF question, he said that he was impressed with my knowledge on it (thank you, Google) and that it would be hard to determine that’s what it is until my period completely stops.  No way to know that yet, since I’ve been on birth control or fertility drugs.  He does think that is where it’s going though.  I’m definitely peri-menopausal at this moment.  He says I could continue to have (some) periods for years to come, or they may stop in the next year, there is just no way to tell.

All of this good news at one time was a little much to handle.  Of course I’ve been crying, who wouldn’t?  I knew all of this already, but having everything confirmed by the doctor was a little overwhelming.  I’m so tired and emotional from the medications already.  So this is my thing…… this is medical.  No one is against me.  I just have problems conceiving (and maybe carrying a pregnancy).  I do have a loving family, wonderful friends and the most amazing husband in the world.  I am a very lucky girl and if I can’t have children then I am still going to have a beautiful life.

I will keep telling myself this as we head into Saturday… wish us luck!