Inconceivable!

Drum roll please...

2008-11-02T08:47:00.002-05:00

It's a boy. :) Everything looks good, other than not getting the greatest view of his heart because of his position. They'll take another look at my next appointment next month just to make sure everything is ok. The husband, the kid and I are headed to Mexico next week. My boss keeps calling it, much to my chagrin, as "The Last Vacation." Whether that's true or not, we're certainly looking forward to it!

Yes, I suck

2008-10-18T11:15:00.004-04:00

I really do suck at this blogging thing. To be fair, work has been crazy busy. But, this is beginning to remind me a bit of several of my college Sunday mornings. You know those - you're hanging your head over the porcelain god, repenting of your sins from the night before, and swearing you'll never drink that much again, only deep down you realize you will. So, as much as I would like to promise I'll never ignore the blog again, I'll refrain.

You know, I'm beginning to suspect that I am pregnant, a mere 14 weeks after my positive pregnancy test. The pregnancy has been good as of late. I'm fully into the "golden trimester," where the morning sickness and fatigue are mainly gone. I have a small baby belly, but I'm not so huge that mobility and simple tasks are trying. I've also started wearing and buying maternity clothes. Can I just say how much I love Gap Maternity? Gap Maternity is what the Gap used to be...simple, moderately priced pieces that can serve as your wardrobe's foundation. There's only one store in the DC metro area and it's not that close, but it was totally worth the drive. So many good finds!

And finally, we have a date for the "big ultrasound" October 28. Can't wait to find out whether we're having a little Chevy or an Astird! (don't worry, it's an Office reference, not our actual choice of names)

My assignment

2008-09-14T10:11:00.005-04:00

So Laura and Paige sent me the same assignment. Here is the C&P:

The Rules:

1. Link to the person who tagged you. Check

2. Post the rules to your blog. Rules? My blog is supposed to have rules? I'm so bad at this.

3. Write 6 random things about yourself. See below. Check.

4. Tag 6 people at the end of your post and link to them. Here's the thing - when you procrastinate on these tagging assignments it leaves no one else to tag. I plead the impossibility defense. If I happen to find a blog that has remained untagged I'll edit.

5. Let each peron you have tagged know by leaving a comment on their blog. See my response to 4.

6. Let the tagger know when your entry is posted. Seems easy enough.

6 random things about me:
1. I have no uvula. Ok, technically I do, but it is just a teeny tiny little bump in the back of my throat that doesn't hang down at all.
2. I am an excellent juggler. This is particularly amazing because I exhibit zero hand-eye coordination in all other facets of life.
3. When I was a child (circa age 7), my advice to friends who told me how mean or unfair their parents were being was, "You can sue them, you know." (Yes, my father is an attorney too. He didn't train me to say it, but it cracked him up nonetheless.)
4. I hate bananas.
5. I spent a year in France my junior year of college.
6. When I was a teenager, I spent my clothing allowance on books.

Umm, the dog ate my blog posts?

2008-09-13T15:07:00.003-04:00

So, it has been pointed out to me that I really, really need to update the blog. This has actually been bothering me for a few weeks, but yet I couldn't motivate myself to post. So, for anyone still actually checking this, I'll try to articulate the reasons why. First, the first trimester has been really, really tiring. For the past month or so, all I've wanted to do from the moment I've returned from work lie down on the couch, veg a bit, and then hit the sack. And since I can't blog from work, that doesn't leave much time for blogging. Fortunately, as the end of first trimester approaches (one more week!), this has been getting better. I actually met some friends for dinner last night, which was a big step for me. ;)

But explaining that brings me to my second reason why I think I haven't been blogging. Knowing that my main audience is mainly composed of others going through infertility, it never really felt right to blog about fatigue, or morning sickness, or any of the other aspects of the first trimester. Believe me, I am grateful to be going through it, and that's why it felt weird to write about it - I just didn't have the confidence to write about how I was feeling without coming across as whiny or ungrateful. I think fear had something to do with it, too. I told myself that the statistics were on my side and that I couldn't do much about a possible miscarriage anyway, so I should just enjoy myself. Nonetheless, this has been a pretty anxious couple of months for me, and writing about the future was pretty hard to do.

So, enough with the self psychoanalysis. All is going well. I am 12 weeks 4 days today. My husband and I got to see the baby again during an NT scan on Thursday. The ultrasound part of the test was normal, but we still have to wait for the bloodwork results. I decided it was finally time to spread the news a bit. Close friends and family already knew, but now I've told work and a few more people.

It's so weird that it's public now, after keeping it a secret for two months, and especially in the networked world we lived in. As soon as a friend of mine knew we were public, she sent me pregnant-related "flair" on Facebook. Not sure how I feel about that. I remember many a bad day when I saw yet another status update concerning yet another pregnancy from some random person on my friends list. I can only assume that several of my Facebook friends who aren't really current friends - just old acquaintances from the past - are going through infertility as well, and that "yet another" pregnancy announcement from me would just be rubbing salt in the wound. It's hard to know what to do.

So, I guess this is a decent comeback post. I have been told I have blogging assignments, so hopefully I will get to those today as well.

I'm still here!

2008-08-01T18:02:00.002-04:00

Things have been crazy lately. We had our first ultrasound this week, at around 5 1/2 weeks. One gestational sack and one yolk sac. We go in again on Wednesday to see if there's a heartbeat.

And I tell my parents tonight, who are coming into town. So exciting.

Inconceivable...no more!

2008-07-19T17:45:00.004-04:00

Most people who read this blog probably know this by now, but I'm pregnant! I tested last Monday, but couldn't get in for betas until Thursday because I was out of town. The one both Thursday and today looked solid, with today's number at 540-something, up from 226 on Thursday. It's high enough that I'm done with betas and just need to call the office on Monday to schedule a sonogram. It doesn't feel real yet, especially to my husband. He just keeps repeating, "I can't believe you're pregnant."

I never thought I could feel so happy and so anxious at the same time. I really think that my happiest state is one of mild nausea - just enough to know that everything's still progressing. I know that so much can happen at this point. I just have to keep in mind that just because it can doesn't mean that it will.

"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

Inigo Montoya, The Princess Bride

Beba's wish

2008-07-01T22:31:00.003-04:00

Beba is my husband's grandmother. She is a 90-something year-old Spanish woman (no one knows her real age, including Beba) who fled to South America during the Spanish Civil War, eventually settling in Venezuela. She lost her husband relatively young, and came to the States when her daughter, my mother-in-law, moved here as an economist, and she helped raise my husband and his siblings. Although she has lived here for 30 years and took many classes, she has never truly become comfortable with the English language, speaking to her daughter and grandsons primarily in Spanish. Her English, however, is still better than my Spanish, and we manage to find a way to communicate.

My husband and I got engaged shortly before the holidays in 2004. That coincided with the birth of a niece on my husband's side, which made for an extra special Christmas celebration. During the celebration, Beba joined me sitting on the hearth, where we both had a view of the newborn baby girl.

She turns to me, points to my niece, and says, "Do you want?"

"Oh, yes, Beba. I love kids. We definitely want kids," I reply.

"I want you to have two."

"Yes, Beba, I do too. I definitely want at least two children."

This is the point where she gives me the look I know so well - the look where she knows something has not translated, and she's searching for the words to help me understand what she means. Finally, she finds them:

"How...do you say...two...at the same time?"

What?

"Two at the same time - what is the word?"

Gulp. "Twins?"

"Yes!!" she says, patting me on the knee. "You - have twins."

After giving this command, she stood up and walked away.

As you might imagine, my family, friends, and I have laughed about this story for several years. And, of course, the story always ended, "Wouldn't it be funny if you ended up having twins?"

If anyone had known how prescient that story seems now - no, I'm currently not pregnant with one, much less two. However, we're now in the stage of fertility treatments where one doesn't just "end up" having twins - it is no longer a spontaneous, unlikely event. I think I saw somewhere that something like 30% of all pregnancies that result from IUIs using injectable medications (as opposed to clomid) are twin pregnancies. Granted, only a certain percentage of IUIs result in pregnancies at all, so the odds of getting twins (or more) out of the deal is still pretty low.

In the infertility world, this is often a welcome idea. After all of the pain of infertility, the idea that you could get "two for one" and be done with it all has its perks. But twins come with risks, and while I would be overjoyed at the news of twins, the concept still concerns me. And, unfortunately, my current protocol could potentially result in more than twins - triplets, quads, quints. And that is the scenario that keeps me up at night - a scenario that comes with impossible, life-altering choices. Choices I hope I never have to make.

So, we'll see. Given my current record, my empty uterus and I will probably look back on this post a few weeks from now and laugh at the fact that I was worried about too many babies. Then again, when a 90-something year-old Spanish woman declares that something will be so, you can't help wondering if she knows something that you don't.

p.s. After writing this entry, but before publishing it, my husband and I went out for Chinese food (P.F. Chang's lettuce wraps rule, by the way). I opened my fortune, and it said, "Your present plans are going to succeed." Pretty good fortune, right? Then, I turned to the back to see what my Chinese word was. It was - I shit you not - "plenty." Good thing I'm not superstitious (not even a little stitious). ;)

Update

2008-06-26T16:35:00.001-04:00

I finally spoke with the nurse. According to her, she spoke with the finance department and cleared it all up. I'll fully believe it when I actually get to speak with the finance department, but hopefully that means the ultrasound payment issued is settled.

My day so far

2008-06-26T11:04:00.002-04:00

So I'm blogging from work. Which is bad. Not just for the obvious reason that this means I'm not doing what I'm being paid to do, but I'm also really busy, so I'm putting off actual work, not just work-in-principle.

But I just had to complain about this.

I started my first cycle of "injectables" on Monday. For the benefit of anyone not familiar with fertility treatments that might read this blog (yeah, right), these are basically shots of a simulated hormone you take every day for about a week to cause your ovaries to go into overdrive. I'm not going to give a detailed description of the oh-so-pleasant physical and emotional side effects of this medication, but believe me, it's been 3 days and I already feel like I have some battle scars.

Anyway, back to the story. On Monday I went to the fertility clinic to get some bloodwork and learn how to shoot myself up. Normally, a treatment cycle also begins with a vaginal ultrasound, yet another oh-so-pleasant experience involving a dildo-shaped wand, some cold goop applied on top of that, and - of course - my vagina. But, the nurse told me, "You haven't been on medication for several months, so there's no reason to think that there's any issue with your ovaries. We can skip the ultrasound today."

This was great news, not just because it meant one less date with the wand (seriously, the wand owes me some flowers and a steak dinner by now), but my insurance does not cover fertility treatments, so it meant that around $400 stayed in my pocket.

Fast forward to today. I went to get some bloodwork done to see how the injectables were working. After the blood draw, I went to the payment counter since, as I said, I pay out of pocket. The clerk starts drawing up the invoice, which included Monday's visit. I saw her circle the box for "ultrasound" and write a charge for $385. So, I politely interject, "I actually didn't have an ultrasound on Monday or today." She gives me a cold stare at me and replies, "I'll need to confirm that when the nurse."

Um, ok. Fair enough, I guess.

Then she returns with my "file" (which, as an aside, is getting quite thick at this point). "Your chart indicates you had the ultrasound." And she just continues writing the invoice for the ultrasound as if that's the end of the matter.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I think I would remember having a wand jammed into my vagina."

No, I didn't actually say it. Believe me, if life had a Tivo remote, I would have pressed the rewind button to remedy this, but such is life.

What I did say was, "No. I didn't have an ultrasound. I'm sorry, but I just didn't. She must have written it down before she realized I didn't need one and forgot to correct it. I'm not paying for this. I'm not. I'm not." I could feel my face getting red. At least I didn't cry. Thank God I didn't cry. But it was close.

The woman remains stony faced. "Well, the nurse is with a patient right now, so I can't ask her. You can pay for the other charges now and I will call you back this afternoon."

Alrighty then.

I have yet to hear back. Obviously, even if the crappy nurse doesn't remember my lack of ultasound this won't be the end of the situation. I'll fight it. But, in the end, they won't do the IUI if I have an outstanding charge, so I might have to cough up the money, even if it's temporary. I can't realistically waste a treatment cycle and the emotional roller coaster of the medication over a $385 dispute. And, honestly, I don't think it will come to that. I'm sure that sooner or later, it will get resolved, and I won't have to pay for an ultrasound that I didn't have. But these financial arguments just add stress to an already stressful process, and it annoys me that someone else's carelessness caused it. Not to mention that I feel like the clerk was basically implying that I was a liar and a thief. Oh, well. What a crummy week.

Momma said there'd be days like this

2008-06-17T12:41:00.003-04:00

Ah, PMS. It is here once again. All of the joys of morning sickness without the pesky embryo. I don't know whether I just like to complain or whether I actually have it worse than the average woman, but getting through the days of PMS is like treading an emotional and medical minefield (and unfortunately for my husband, he has to come with me). Most months I will have the entire gamut of physical symptoms (headaches, cramps, nausea, tender breasts, fatigue). My mood swings are horrible. And all of the joy and humor that were so full in me just days before escape like air coming out of a deflating balloon.

But the worst part about it is the wondering. Even now, after going through this 14 times (or is it 15?), the internal conversation is the same:

"could I be...?"
"but I'm probably not...."
"but what if I were...?"

I have the same symptoms every single month at nearly the exact same time - the writing is on the wall - yet what I inevitably find my mind lingering on are the anecdotes from my now pregnant friends: "It felt exactly like my period was about to start...."

Even as I write this, there is a scenario going through my head. It is of me sheepishly logging into this blog to announce that it wasn't PMS. That after 14 (or is it 15?) times, I was wrong and I misinterpreted my symptoms. And that I had some news...

Hell, it could happen, I guess. But, after 14 (or is it 15?) times, I really shouldn't put any money on it. And I should just focus on making it through these coming days. Because I should know better. And I should know what's coming...

All aboard?

2008-06-12T20:26:00.007-04:00

Bitter is a word that comes up often in discussions about infertility, or at least in chatrooms about infertility and getting pregnant. It is sometimes used in the context of describing one's own emotions when faced with her own disappointment or frustration (e.g., "My annoying sister-in-law is pregnant and they weren't even trying. One ticket for the bitter bus please.") It is sometimes used as a weapon by fertile women against an an infertile who just said something they don't like ("You're just bitter.").

More and more often, however, I see people discussing whether a certain person is or is not "allowed" to be bitter - whether they've "earned" it - or women who seem to aspire to get to the point where the can label themselves as bitter.

Bitterness is not a badge of honor that one has or has not won. It is a state of mind. And, ultimately, bitterness is a choice.

I want no part in it.

That's not to say that people have to be happy all the time about infertility. Anger, sadness, frustration, fear, and, yes, even jealousy are all part of the process. I feel some or all of those emotions regularly (ahem). It would be detrimental to pretend I did not and just push those feelings back. But the term "bitter" - true bitterness, not just throwing out the word in a passing comment or in jest - connotes a sort of holding on - of letting those feelings not only stay within me, but to grow, and eventually shape who I become.

Bitterness is pernicious. It is soul-destroying. It is enveloping yourself in your sorrows and tribulations as if they were some snuggly blanket - only once you get warm and cozy, you might get entangled and find it hard ever to leave.

So, who has earned right to be bitter? I suppose I have. Then again, I suppose anyone in life who has faced a struggle has as well. But the question isn't whether you have earned a ticket for the bitter bus, but whether you choose to use it. I, for one, hope never to board.

The Morning After

2008-06-11T13:04:00.002-04:00

Three's Company fans - you'll recall that one of the writers' staple story lines was having Jack go to some party and obviously have a few too many (well, as obvious as they could make it in 70s television). The scene then cuts to an image of a tousled and drooling Jack sleeping peacefully in his bed. He starts to roll over and then his eyes shoot open in astonishment - the camera pans to reveal the sheet-enveloped lump that is presumed to be some woman Jack picked up the night before (or Larry). The camera then focuses on Jack's petrified face, which makes absolutely clear he has no idea who this woman (or Larry) is or how she (or Larry) got there.

Yeah, that pretty much describes me this morning when, still in my cosmo and pinot-induced fog, I open my laptop and find this blog staring back at me. Of course, the first thing I do is scan through the entry to make sure there were no heinous grammatical errors, drunken typos, or embarrassing secrets I've revealed. Whew, that's a relief (though I vaguely recall that my blog was entitled "Iconceivable" for about 5 minutes last night - really glad and somewhat amazed that I caught that one). Then it started to hit me - Holy Hell, I've started a blog. A blog people might read. A blog I'll have to maintain (I can't be a blogger abandoner). I then start scrolling through the settings - so many potential add-ons, so many templates, so many decisions on who does and does not get to read, get to comment, get to send me emails, get to name my first born...way too many decisions to make right now.

So, I'm going to keep it basic for awhile. No lists, no polls, no music libraries. Just me and some words. I might go crazy and change the font every once in awhile. Overall, I think starting this blog will be a good thing. Putting things on paper (or in the ether) is therapeutic sometimes. And I needed something to get me off my lazy bedonk and start the writing that I have been promising myself I would do for several years now. And if that "something" was one too many cosmopolitans, then so be it.

"To Alcohol: The cause of - and solution to - all of life's problems."

Homer J. Simpson

Let me start by saying....

2008-06-11T01:01:00.000-04:00

I'm drunk.

Hell of a way to make a first impression, huh? I'm drunk, and I decided to start a blog. I'm pretty sure that's on some universal list of bad combinations, but ... what the hell.

And why am I drunk, do you ask? Several factors contributed to my current state: (1) I just had a girls night out to see Sex and the City, which, of course, required a post-theatre trip to a neighboring bar for cosmos (I will not be commenting on the movie itself in this entry - I'm 87% sure it will come up later) ; (2) I don't have to work tomorrow (read: It's my day off and I can be hungover if I want to); and (3) finally - something that will probably be a running theme in this blog -- for the ninth time since I've been trying to conceive, one of my friends announced she was pregnant.

Now, if I compare this to the experience of many of My Little Infertile Internet Friends -- I might start calling them MLIIF's for short -- a mere 9 friends who have gotten pregnant in the 14 months I've been trying is quite modest. (Teachers have it the worst, by the way. All of MLIIFs that are teachers are besieged by pregnant ladies every day, with a new pregnancy announcement about once every month or so.) And, honestly, women who go into hysterics every time that they hear that a friend has gotten knocked up before they did usually annoy me. But, considering that this is the second time in two weeks I've heard this glorious news from someone who got married after I started trying to have a baby, I'm gonna cut myself some slack for wanting to throw a little self-pity party this evening.

So, that pretty much handles the "why I'm drunk" part of the equation. So, why did I decide to assert my inebriated, barren self to the blogging universe? I guess part of it was peer pressure (I'd estimate that about 70% of MLIIFs have a blog - and, no, I don't read most of them -- sorry, guys). Part of it was this ever-so-famous rationale of having an "outlet for my feelings" about infertility or any other crap going on in my life. Honestly, though, I just love to write. For several years I have wanted to write more in my spare time, but both life and procrastination have gotten in the way. And, despite the title and the immediate impetus to start the blog, I hope that this will become more than just another story in the life of someone trying to get pregnant. Because life is about so much more than infertility, and no one needs to be reminded of that more than myself.