Boost

Well, the appointment to try to get a referral to check out my non-IF related issues turned out better than I expected. I think it helped that I got in to see a doctor this time instead of the nurse practitioners that are so prevalent on campus. No offense to NP’s, but I think in a situation like this I really needed someone with more experience. I could just tell that even though this was not his area of expertise, this doctor as least knew enough know which direction to go and to point me to. Dr. Receptive was not only nice, but he listened to every little bit of minutia I had to say. You know how sometimes you can talk to a doctor, or anyone for that matter, and you can tell the exact moment when they have stopped listening to you? Well, that never happened at any point during my appointment and can I just say how great that was to have somebody listening to everything you say and not be dismissive. From his comments to me, I could tell he considered every point I put out there and then made his own assessments. It felt a little more like the collaborative effort I was hoping for between me and the doctor. And, it gives me hope that I can find a specialist who I can interact with in the same manner.

So, I did repeat bloodwork for FSH, LH, TSH and prolactin. Even though I was in mid-cycle (cd19), Dr. Receptive wanted to see what my FSH was. His thinking was that it was too early to say it was POF since I just had the one FSH level. But it was high, and if the mid-cycle is also high, then that indirectly confirms my high FSH. I’ve thought about the validity of that logic these last couple of days and I’m not sure to think. I wish I had the presence of mind to ask for a progesterone level, too, just to see if those levels are high or low since I read that women with POF tend to have low progesterone also. But, it’s a start and the appointment energized me to move forward. The other little drawback was that he seemed to have a specific specialist in mind to refer me to, but he couldn’t remember his name. And he referred me to a “Gyn Endocrinologist” and so my referral got sent to Endocrinology because the receptionist didn’t find a number for “Gyn Endocrinology.” It didn’t occur to me until later that he might have meant to refer me to an RE which means my referral probably should have gone to OB/Gyn since that’s where the RE’s are. In any case, at least I have the referral and I can sort the details out one way or another.

Tests come back Friday.

Random Thoughts

Been having a lot of random thoughts and was putting off writing a post until I had something more substantial, but that at the rate I’m going, that could take weeks. So I’m just going to go with the random thoughts since it’s been awhile since I last posted.

[begin random thoughts]

Spent most of last week preparing a presentation for a group of faculty, post-doc’s and other grad students. I hadn’t given a talk like this in a long time and was quite nervous. It didn’t help that my results from my latest experiments are leading me in a completely different direction than I started out with and I don’t really understand the implications of it all. Plus, I haven’t felt much excitement about my and the absolute worst thing is to try to talk about something you have no interest in. I mean, if you’re not interested in your own work, then how do you expect other people to be? I felt tongue-tied and twisted throughout the talk, and no one asked any questions, but the reaction after the meeting (there were 3 of us presenting) was positive. In fact, they were almost completely the opposite of what my perception of my talk was. Usually I’m pretty good at gauging how well I do. I’m not sure why there was such a huge discrepancy between my perceptions and reality. That bothers me a little but I’m glad I didn’t come off as bad as I thought. So, I’m going to try to be happy with what I have.

After the talk, I spent most of the weekend feeding my Firefly/Serenity obsession. I got Mr. Warrior hooked and so, even though I finished watching all the episodes and the movie only a week and a half ago, I have been re-watching it with Mr. Warrior. It’s almost more fun the second time around and you get to catch more of the dialogue.

This week has just been trying to get back into regular old working routines and trying to remember where I left off. So, far work has only been minimally productive this week and so I’m really glad it’s Friday. I plan to finish the baby toy I’ve been knitting and plan a baby-something or other for my cousin C., as my next knitting project. I had sent my cousin C. an e-mail awhile back to see how she was doing after losing one of her twins and she responded this week. Turns out they had severe male factor (plus she’s over 35) and they were not expecting to get pregnant without help. She was vague as to what the underlying problem was, but whatever it is their urologist had suggested a risky surgery and there was no guarantee of success. By the time they saw their urologist to discuss whether they should go ahead with the surgery or not, she was pregnant. The urologist was, apparently, very surprised she got pregnant. So, her due date is early August and they are cautiously planning the baby’s arrival and looking to buy their first house. I was not so hurt by hearing all her news, but not so happy either. I really am happy for her, that she was able to get pregnant without IVF or her husband undergoing surgery. I did wonder if there would ever come a day when news of an unassisted, we-have-problems-but-we-got-lucky-and-got-pregnant-anyway pregnancy won’t ever make me flinch just a little. The bright spot? While I was having that thought, I saw me asking myself “does it still hurt?” then looking towards two little kids, my kids, playing on the floor in front of me. I don’t know if that image will ever be my reality, but being able to picture a reality like that made me think that maybe I can have a future where I am happy in my life even if things don’t go the way I would like.

I was able to get an appointment today to try to get a referral to do more testing. Last time I tried this, the nurse practitioner insisted I could use my referral for my IF evaluation. But since the doctor basically told me there was nothing they could to for me on campus and to go to an IVF clinic and what I want to do non-IF wise is to find a doctor who has some understanding of POF or peri-menopause, I didn’t think the IF referral would cover that. I don’t want to get an appointment, have tests done and find out that I need to pay for things that would have otherwise been covered if only I had the right paperwork. Somehow, I couldn’t get the NP to understand that before so, I decided to make an appointment with somebody else to see if I get someone who can understand my dilemma. This was actually my cousin TPED’s (the potential egg donor’s) advice. To just keep bugging different people until I get what I want.

It’s taken about 2 months to get myself to make this appointment, so I’m hoping the doctor I’m meeting with today is more receptive. I am tired of receiving bad news or feeling completely stuck after a doctor’s visit because I can’t seem to get what I need. I’m a little afraid that if the doctor today still won’t give me a referral, I’ll just put off seeing a specialist again. I don’t want to keep putting this off, so I’m telling myself that no matter what the outcome today, my next step is to make an appointment with an RE and just deal with the insurance fallout.

[end random thoughts]

Odds and Ends (aka The Boring Post)

This week has been kind of a hodge podge of all sorts of different things. Started the week feeling good after learning that a talk I had to give was postponed for a week. Then learned about a stitch n’ bitch group that started on campus and their monthly meeting was Wednesday. I had been looking for a knitting group to go to, but most of them I knew of were some distance away. I’m not the type of person who meets new people easily and having to travel a long distance only to find myself in a socially awkward situation kept me from ever trying to go to any of them. But going to one on campus seemed like minimal effort and since they were meeting in the middle of the day, I could always use the excuse that I had to go back to work to get out of any unpleasant situation. So, I packed my current knitting project in a bag and headed over there Wednesday. It was a little awkward at first, but I think I was in the frame of mind to have a go at meeting new people. Some people really took to the project I was working on and that felt nice to have people compliment me. I ended up having quite a nice time. I was actually a little sorry to go back to work. Later on in the day, however, I wasn’t feeling as grand. I had a horrible headache and felt unbearably tired. Since other co-workers had been sick, I realized I must have caught it, too. Went home early and slept until the next day. Spent the next day at home, too, napping, eating very little, reading and being completely enthralled by the TV series, Firefly. Got the DVDs as a gift from my brother because he thought I might enjoy it and boy, was he right! Last couple of days, I’ve just been having fun watching the entire series (easy since there were only a few episodes) and movie, Serenity, which was made a few years later. It felt good to let myself just be sick and completely lose myself in front of the TV.

Not a very exciting post, I know, but I felt like I was in a slightly different head space for awhile this week and somehow it made me feel a little more like my pre-IF self and it felt good to be her again even if it was for a little while.

A Call, the Sequel

So, I took out my cell phone that I never really use unless I am out of town or we have visitors to charge up the batteries and saw that I had two messages. One was from my cousin I., left last Friday. She asked me to call her back because she was going through something personal and her sister C. suggested she talk to me. My heart leapt into my throat. I felt so guilty I didn’t call her as soon as I heard about her miscarriage from my mom. I took a breath, put the negative feelings away and called her up. Turns out, her miscarriage was very similar to mine. She didn’t suspect anything even though her period was weeks late and she had to get bigger pants (ditto), she got in for an u/s right away (ditto) and they just saw an empty sac (need I say it, again?). Time from positive hpt to dropping hcg? Three days. Beat my record of seven days, hands down.

She ended up having a D&C Saturday and for everything she had just gone through, she sounded upbeat over the phone. It was hard to read where she was emotionally, whether she needed support or if she only called me up because she didn’t know whether she should go ahead with a D&C or wait it out. In my opinion, after my long, dragged out experience with my miscarriage, the D&C would probably be the way I choose to do it if I had to again, so I let her know that and I think she appreciated the assurance. We talked awhile longer. She wanted to hear my story. I asked her more details about hers. And I told her that if she needed more emotional support, I would be here for her.

I hope that I can stay true to my word.

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Talking with I. made me realize how insular my world is. It comes with the territory of being introverted (whereas I. is extremely extroverted, bubbly and, it seems, always surrounded by friends). And, for the most part I like that. I like my introverted-ness, the quietness that comes with sitting by yourself or with only one or two people and you can just be. But, I am beginning to realize more and more that if you add deep-seated doubts about yourself to the introverted-ness (I think I’ve used it enough that it has to be a bona-fide word now, don’t you think?), then it can become something that blocks people’s connection with you. I. had many people who asked about her and what was wrong which led to total strangers (people who knew people she knew) calling her and telling her about their miscarriage experiences. From this, she was able to get support, hear encouragement and cope with her tragedy. During the time after my miscarriage, there was really no one in my circle who was able to relate to me or tell me stories about their experience or tell me it was going to be ok, even. I. not only had friends who had gone through it, but a co-worker, a friend’s neighbor, her mom and me, her cousin. I don’t bring all this up to play another round of poor me (though I realize I have been doing that at least once a post for, oh, forever!). It is something that has been on my mind since thinking about how to tread this path of DE/IVF. My SIL, also a vibrant extrovert, went through DE/IVF due to age. Her egg donor literally fell into her lap. Her RE first thought they would try with her own eggs (though I have NO clue what he was thinking since she was 48 at the time), then decided last minute that her chances would be better with donor egg (gee, do you think?). The receptionist at her RE’s office knew of someone who wanted to donate her eggs because she saw a friend’s struggle with IF. They were able to work it out (no agency, no contract, no fees, she just paid the donor’s meds, monitoring, etc.—a completely altruistic donation in my opinion) and started cycling almost right away. My SIL had a total of 5 embies from this donation. Three were transferred and two iced. Today, there are two rambunctious 4 year olds running around our family gatherings.

In thinking about my cousin and my SIL, I can’t help but think that there is some life lesson I should be learning about tapping into the collective web of humanity that I so infrequently participate in either consciously or as an indirect result of playing by myself and liking it too much. I don’t want to become a totally different person than I am now, just slightly…re-formulated. I just don’t quite know exactly how to do it. Any ideas?

A Call

A couple of nights ago, I got a call from my mom. One of my cousins, I., who is 40 and got married a couple of months before I did, had gotten pregnant and then miscarried. I hate that I feel this way, but I was relieved. After the emotional week I had, I was glad I didn’t have to deal with any family pregnancy news. I knew I. would try to get pregnant right after her wedding, but a little shocked it happened so fast for her. But, wait, my mother wasn’t finished. Another cousin, C., younger sister to I. and a couple of years older than me, was also pregnant. She had twins, but apparently lost one. Her due date is sometime in July.

I had known C. was trying to have a baby. She and I had been e-mailing for the last year or so and we shared our stories about trying to get pregnant. She is one of the few people who know the details of my IF. She has been dealing with some IF issues herself, due mostly to slight male factor.

I don’t know exactly what to feel now that I have had some time to digest some of this news. The night of the call, I was very sad but also quite disgusted with myself and my reactions. You would think that as someone who went through a miscarriage, I would have more compassion for my cousin I., instead of just relief for myself. You would think I would have wanted to reach out to her right away and offer her my understanding instead of hating her because at 40, she was able to get pregnant more easily than me. At 40, her eggs weren’t good, but still better than mine. I also don’t know how to deal with C. I’m sure the loss of one of her twins must be hard. But she is still pregnant. I’m sure she will go through the next few weeks, maybe months wondering if she will lose her other child and here I sit dreading the day this summer I will find a birth announcement in the mail. It feels petty and selfish. Even more important, this is not the kind of person I want to be. I am so tired of being this person filled with negative emotions.

And you know what else kills me? It is that C. and most likely I. were both pregnant when they came to our wedding. I had worried about how they would handle being around the small kids and babies and a visibly pregnant woman who would also be here. I spent time debating if I should warn them ahead of time (ultimately I decided that with the way we set up the house (separate kids room with games and video) and the backyard, it was big enough that they could go somewhere to totally avoid any kids or my pregnant friend).

Looks like I didn’t have to worry about them at all. As Mr. Worrier noted after I told him the news, they seemed quite happy around the other kids when they were here. Now, he understands why.

[Note to Thalia: Yes, I am grateful for Mr. Worrier and what we have. Without him, especially in these last few years, I don’t know how I would have survived. I do forget what a good life I have with him. Thank you for reminding me of that.]

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Despite my emotional inability to deal with my cousins’ pregnancies and losses, I ended up having lunch with my pregnant friend the next day. I wasn’t sure how I would handle it but I realized I didn’t have any negative feelings toward her, at least not any strong enough that kept me from talking with her and enjoying our lunch together. I was even able to handle having a whole conversation about how her pregnancy was going and hearing how the baby is getting really active. Yet, today, I still feel dismayed and discouraged about the news about my cousins. Go figure.

Have you seen my courage?

A couple of weeks ago a friend of ours, A., came to stay with us for a few days. During that time, A. and I ended up spending most nights talking and staying up late. It was not something I expected we would do, because we hadn’t been close friends. But A. has been going through a difficult year and it seemed like she was in the process of trying to make some life changes. During our talks, I realized she was taking huge emotional risks by talking to me about her fears and hopes in an effort to open up her life to better things. It got me to reflect a little on my life and where I wanted to be. Talking with her reminded me of a book I had on my Amazon wish list called Changing for Good by James Prochaska. The book is written for and targeted to people who want to change bad habits (smoking, alcohol abuse, etc.) but applies, really, to anyone wanting to make a change. Soon after A. left, I ordered it. I have been reading it these last few days and am finding that there are many passages in the book that really speak to me.

Last night, I was reading about the preparation stage of change and was reminded of the real definition of courage—that courage is not the absence of fear but the ability to act in the face of fear. I dawned on me that I had lost the courage to tackle the difficulties of life and it has been missing for many years. I realized that it is cowardice that is holding me back from going forward with dealing with my infertility and verifying that my ovaries are indeed starting to fail. I am fearful of the bad news another visit to the doctor may bring. I am at a complete loss as to how to act despite my fears. Knowing that I am unable to act makes me feel bad about myself. Having these bad feelings intensifies my fears and I loathe exposing myself to situations that may open the door to bad news. Lather, rinse and repeat.

So, I guess the question now is, how do I find my courage again? I know it’s possible for me to be courageous because I have acted with courage before. But what deep, dark crevices of my soul has my courage been relegated to? Where do you go look for something that has been pushed so far down that you weren’t even able to see it was gone?