The pill.

So, while this isn’t big news, we are back on the pill over here. Good news is that I made it through 7 month without ANY medication. No hormones. No pills, patches, injections, ultrasounds, blood draws, nothing. Unfortunately that changed last week because the duration and strength of my periods were less and less, which is not the way we want things to go if we want to avoid surgery and have any chance at building a lining to transfer our final embryo. Good news, again, is that I DID have a cycle of normal length on a regular basis.

So, good news and less desirable news, but I’d say I already beat the odds of being in pre-menopause by my mid 30’s (because I’m there, dude). If it weren’t for physician error, I would have a functioning lining in my uterus and have a very good chance of a successful pregnancy. No lawsuit or anger will ever change my circumstances in that concern.

At the moment, the medication plan is to follow the pill for one month, then estradiol by mouth in AM and suppository by PM for 21 days, followed by progesterone pills for 7 days, then, repeat the estradiol/progesterone protocol for 2 more months. So, four months of medication and another evaluation to decide any further course of treatment.

I feel surrounded by babies. My heart still aches to have another. I pray that we will, but I’m also enjoying spoiling Toddler J with all my love and snuggles. He amazes us every day… and challenges us, too.

Our family is experiencing other hardships on his side and mine. We are praying for his father and my brother. Praying for healing that surpasses all expectations.

We ask for your prayers right now, for our family and for our own future. We pray for faith in His will and guidance. We also pray for the knowledge, foresight and wisdom of the medical professionals who provide care for us and our family. I find myself taking my health, strength, sight, etc. for granted every day.

Lord, we are ever so grateful. Help us use these gifts to bring the glory to You. Amen.

Finding balance.

Sometimes, I clean. Almost always, I cook. Rarely, I bake. Often, I am in the moment, enjoying and soaking it in. Sometimes, I fall apart. Many times, I take a deep breath and try again, or walk away. More often now, I’m reading scripture. Always, I love, even if I don’t like the behavior, I love the other human beings trying to do their best like me, even if it’s sometimes, almost always, rarely, or often.

Trying to find a balance between my professional goals and my personal life; fun and the desire for home-made meals, cleanliness, tidy rooms, and a well-behaved and happy toddler; wife and mother and daughter and neighbor and friend.

It’s a first for me since quite a while back. I’m finally able to look for a “normal” balance outside of the IVF realm.

In the midst of IVF, there is no balance. While life is going on outside of treatment (family, professionally, globally), that treatment is all-consuming. Medications. Appointments. Complimentary treatments requiring more appointments to aid the medications or relieve symptoms. More medication: needles and pills and suppositories and supplements and patches and more needles… and more pills.

And the hot/cold highs/lows and crashes.

And the tears. The guilt. The loss.

But the toddler, he is proof that all that stuff can work. He is ridiculously intelligent and challenging and I don’t even care if I only think that because I’m his mom – because I’m his MOM. Something I once thought was quite possibly impossible. I’m so thankful.

 

Be still.

Exodus 14:14 “The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.”


So, I’m doing my best… Bedrest day 1. My clinic required two days back when we transferred baby J, but now they say just one. Since the transfer in March with one day of bedrest did not work, I’m going back to two days (nobody told me to, I just decided it was best to go with what worked before).

Baby J is at daycare and hubby is at work.

By the way, look at the size of that embryo! The others we transferred were never coming out of their shell like this one. The dense part near the bottom center is the baby and the rest will turn into placenta. The transfer was smooth. No need to give time for the bladder to fill and no need to empty any off the top. In the past, I’ve needed just a little more time or was overfull. Guess that repetition has helped me.

Trying to find funny stuff to watch over the next two weeks. If you have any recommendations, please let me know! I’ll watch “Sisters” for sure. Anything else?

Jimmy Fallon is my “go-to” right now. Here’s one for you all:

http://www.nbc.com/the-tonight-show/video/first-textual-experience-with-sting/3107263

Jimmy is hilarious, but Sting… well, he’s Sting… sooo good. And yes, all I’m doing in bed right now is eating.

In less than 24 hours…

…we will get to meet our third frozen embryo. We are cleared for takeoff with our FET scheduled for tomorrow at 2pm. I can hardly believe it!

We are so grateful for all your prayers. Only God could give us the endurance for this and the strength to believe this can work.

The endometrial lining was between 6 and 7mm with a triple-layer. The scars in the basalis layer of my uterus are still there, but “the embryo doesn’t know they are” said our doc today. Ha! Funny stuff he says.

If you want to reach me, I will be doing … well, basically nothing except focusing on positive energy, prayers (for so many people also needing prayers right now), and doing my best not to annoy my loved ones who will be waiting on me for the next 2, or 3, or 6 days. :)

Please stick around and meet us in about eight and half months, little frosty em-baby!

Please don’t…

When someone is struggling with infertility and/or miscarriage, please don’t say things like

“Everything happens for a reason.”

“It’s for the best.”

Anything with “at least” at the beginning.

“God has a plan.” “It’s in God’s time.” (or anything that implies that God caused this)

“Just be patient.” “Just relax.” “Just adopt.” “Just stop trying. That’s when it happens.”

None of this helps the pain or grief. The only thing that was a comfort to me was the acknowledgement of the pain and suffering, that this situation really sucks, it is awful and that no one should ever have to lose their baby (no matter what their age may be). Someone actually said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.” and they listened instead. They listened to me talk about my world, my hopes and dreams for my child as they came crashing down, and I will forever be grateful.

To everyone who is in this place of infertility and/or miscarriage, I am so sorry you have to endure this. This is a miserable, awful, no good life experience. No one should have to go through such a loss. I am so sorry for your pain. I don’t expect that you will EVER “get over” this nor should you. I think of you and your babies before I lay my head down every night. I only wish you and yours all the happiness this world can afford every day forward.