I realize that up until now, all I've given you is a sob story. Poor me, poor Mark, right?
Well, I wanted to take some time to count my blessings, because I am blessed.

First and foremost I have a loving, supportive, appreciative husband who does more for me than I ever thought I deserved prior to meeting him. He provides for me, listens to me, laughs at and with me, sees and accepts me for who I am (and doesn't want to run in the other direction). He understands me, he thinks I'm beautiful and above all, loves me and tells me so all the time.

Secondly, I have a great immediate and extended family. My mother, who has been my one and only source of support for many years and pretty much raised me on her own, has been my biggest cheerleader and the one who feels my pain as if it were her own. She's the best.
I have a big big big family on my mom's side with 11 aunts and uncles and 52 first cousins, most of whom live in Iowa. I have my family in Colorado that mean very much to me and have made me feel like I'm a part of something bigger instead of feeling like an only child.
I just became a part of a new family as well. Mark's family is wonderful, I couldn't have asked for a better family to come into. I joke that even if Mark and I didn't get along, I would have had to have married him anyway, just for his family. :D

C. I have good friends who are able to make me laugh when I most need it, bring me back to earth when necessary, and are just good, solid people who I need more than they might know.


Lastly, there's everything else:

• I have mental health (although some days are certainly better than others)
• I have a roof over my head
• I have food to eat
• I can shop for clothes and do so whenever I need and/or want them
• I have a dependable, and new car
• I'm healthy
• We have a really cute dog, who drives us crazy but will prove to be worth it someday
• I have a job, and Mark has a better job
• There are countless other things I could list off here, but these are the most important, so I won't bore you with those.
  

So, there you have it, I'm blessed. I try to acknowledge and remember these things each time I get to feeling down about not being able to have a baby.

I thought about setting up my own blog for the occasional fertility topic I might want to comment on, but since everyone already visits here, I figure showing up as a guest from time to time would work just fine.

So Kristi has very eloquently articulated her side of our fertility struggles, I figure I'd share some thoughts from the masculine perspective.

To say that Kristi was excited about getting pregnant is an understatement of epic proportions. So after being happily married for several months, we both decided we’d get the process going. We went about it the natural way for a couple of months. Being that Kristi’s only fault might be some impatient qualities (what, Kristi??? :) she mentioned it to her doctor at a routine visit. Her response was that she wouldn’t have even considered it a fertility issue unless you’ve been trying at least six months, but a year isn’t that unrealistic. So we kept at it, thinking nothing of it. Somewhere during this period, Kristi found a drug more addictive than Crack – the Trying To Conceive forums at AmericanPregnancy.org. Here she learned about everything from Temping (tracking your temperature daily to see if you are about to ovulate) to the Two Week wait (the time from ovulation until your next period. I.e. the agonizingly long timeframe where you hope on hope you are pregnant). It turns out that on the forum you speak in tongues. Terms like DH (Dear Husband), BD (Baby Dance – no explanation needed), BFN (big fat negative – a negative pregnancy test), OPK (ovulation predictor kit – a test to see if you are ovulating, assuming you aren’t temping), etc. etc. There are tons more, but that’s not what this blogs about.

Anyway, after around a year of trying we decided start the infertility investigation. We did the routine non-invasive tests to detect some common fertility problems. I did the whole “Cup” thing and Kristi was given blood work and ultrasounds. We both decided we didn’t need to do genetic testing, (like that would ever happen to us), which turned out to have been a very costly mistake. But more on that later. It turns out that everything looked good in my department. I had high motility (my boys can swim!) and count (they want you to have around 25 million sperm per payload, and I delivered 80 million in my first test. That’s like shooting fish in a barrel with a shotgun :) So, it appeared that I was OK and they amped up the investigation with Kristi. It seemed as though Kristi had a mild form of Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS in forum speak) and she also underwent a hysteroscopy/laparoscopy to remove some Endometriosis. Both are kinda complicated things that I welcome you to Google about, if you are interested. Kristi was definitely my little trooper!

So it seemed we had figured out what our issues were and were excited to take the next steps. Our doctor recommended doing an IUI (Intra Uterine Insemination). Basically they actively monitor ovulation and then deliver my half directly to the fertile grounds, in hopes of improving your chances of the sperm meeting up with the egg. When two rounds of IUI weren’t successful, we had finally made it to the pinnacle of the fertility mountain climb. The IVF. In Vitro Fertilization. Test Tube Babies. Better living through Chemistry.

This was a whole new stage of fertility treatment. It involves using lots of different drugs to totally manipulate the menstrual cycle to whatever whim they need. But first, you need a lot of eggs. A LOT OF EGGS. Given that a normal female drops one each month, some serious chemistry is involved. And also needles. A LOT OF NEEDLES. And, bless her heart, Kristi just didn’t have the heart to administer the drugs to herself. So, that job fell to me. I can, without a doubt, say that I was extremely nervous. But, when the time came, I rose to the challenge. And it turns out, it wasn’t that bad. You just have to hold it like a pencil and make a quick single motion, press in the plunger, and then remove it. The only part I felt I couldn’t do was the Trigger shot (to make Kristi ovulate when *they* wanted her to ovulate). It’s a whole different class of scary needle, and it’s intramuscular. The scary part (other that the sheer size of it) was that you had pull back on the needle and check for any blood. If so, discard that needle and pick a different place. We hired a nurse to do that shot. Phew. So the egg retrieval day arrived, and they got 18 eggs from Kristi. Those were then fertilized with my sperm and as luck would have it, 12 of them were successfully fertilized. The best two of those where chosen for our first transfer, and they froze the rest.

So the big day came, and our excitement level was at an all time high. We did the transfer and for two weeks, we redefined the term “two week wait”. It was agonizing. Finally, the day of the blood work came. Kristi and I went in, and blood was drawn. A mere 8 hours later, we got the call we were dreaming of. Kristi was Pregnant!!! They promptly scheduled our first ultrasound, a mere week away. And it was on that Friday that we discovered we were doubly blessed. We were pregnant with Twins. Can you imagine, after all this time of trying to learn you have an insta family? It was an amazing feeling. It’s one of the highest highs you’ll ever know.

But, we wouldn’t be writing this blog if it was all rainbows and butterflies. Our babies heartbeats seemed a little low (100 b.p.m instead of 110-120). Nothing to be worried about. (Or so we thought). We came back the following Monday to learn the most heart wrenching news we had to face as a married couple. Our twins heartbeats had dropped to 50 b.p.m. Our insta family was gone. I was so devasted I didn’t go back into work that day. In fact, I didn’t even let anyone know I wasn’t coming back, because in my joy on the previous Friday, I was showing everyone the ultrasound of my twins. How do you go back and tell everyone the bad news. It was easier not to deal with it. We had also told all of our family as well. While it’s still kinda hard for me to write all of this stuff down now, dealing with any of that at the time seemed impossible. We were both utterly crushed.

To be continued…

I just wanted to post an update to how our "new stop the want baby plan" is going.

We are on our "break", yet still trying on our own. However, this time unlike the other year we spent trying, I am not taking my temperature every morning and charting all my fertility symptoms. We are just enjoying each other, etc.

But, my baby wanting mind is still in overdrive. Yes, I'm still delusional and overly optimistic. I was sure I had lost all this craziness when we found out we weren't pregnant after the last embryo transfer, but alas, it is all back, and with a vengeance. It's only been less than a month since we found out the bad news and here I am thinking that this is our month and I will get or already am pregnant. Like I said before false hope is a dangerous ingredient in this stew of infertility. It's a hard line to walk. You want to be hopeful, but in order to hold on to some semblance of sanity, you need to be realistic as well. I have yet to master this delicate balance.

My hopeful mind tells me that we'll get pregnant on our own, and soon. (Really this is the only mind I want to listen to at this point). Since we have no other options at this point but to try on our own, this is what will keep me going.

But then, there's the reality of our situation:
At the end of this month I will get my period, or aunt flow (AF). I'll be crushed, reality will set in and the cycle of false hope will start anew next month.

Then, as if to broadcast my failure, I see families everywhere and pregnant women seem to follow me. I know I can't avoid these things, and I certainly don't expect others to go out of their way to shield me from these people. But it is hard. I am, afterall, only human, and seeing a pregnant lady only makes me realize where I have come up short.

It's funny that when I was in my mid-20's, although I hadn't found "the one" and knew I wasn't ready to start a family just yet, I couldn't wait to be pregnant. Everyone thought I was crazy because being pregnant isn't what you look forward to, raising kids is the pot of gold at the end of that rainbow. I wonder if I somehow jinxed myself for wanting to be pregnant so badly. It hurts to think that maybe I won't ever get to experience that for myself.

This would become my biggest loss in all this. I say this because if we should fail to have children ourselves, we would absolutely consider adoption. So, one way or another we will have our family, and again, the biggest loss to me would be missing out on being pregnant and giving birth to a child that Mark and I created.

I guess the reason we aren't looking into adoption right now is because we know it's possible to have a child of our own. We aren't quite ready to give up that fight. It would be a different story if we knew kids of our own was not a possibility. As I've said before, if only we had bottomless resources, and by resources I mean money, I think we would continue to go through IVF until we were successful. I've heard stories of woman going through at least five IVF cycles. I don't know how many unsuccessful rounds we'd go thorugh before throwing in the towel, but I can say that after just one, we are not through yet.

I think I went off track again, whoops.

In any case, I'll find out at the end of this week if I'm pregnant or not.
Here's hoping!

You are probably wondering by now if this whole blog will be related to my self-centered complaints on not being able to get pregnant. I wondered about that myself until I actually started writing about it all. I have so much to get out and relate, that it could take some time before I've said everything I need to say, and I may have to say it two or three times, so be forewarned.

I don't want it to turn into the pity party I had once envisioned. But, as I said, I have some stuff to release here, so please give me some time to spew and then I hope to turn the corner into learning and growing land.

How do I stop wanting a baby? It seems that I've been consumed with nothing else for at least the last two years. I think I must be becoming an obsessive compulsive over this. To quote National Lampoons Vacation, not really, I'm on a quest to have a baby, praise babies! (the real line is "I'm on a quest to see a moose, praise Marty Moose").

Now the we are on a break from conceiving through medical intervention I find that my consumption with babies is at an all time high. They are everywhere I turn. When I finally have found peace from kids I run into pregnant ladies. The world is filled with families. It is especially exaggerated to me now that I can't have one. It would make it a little easier to dial down the desperation if I weren't bombarded with what I want most on a daily basis.

I wish I was one of those strong women who could see the silver lining here. I wish I turn this into a chance for personal growth or some shit like that. I feel like I'm taking the opposite road here and becoming a selfish, bitter, jealous woman instead. I think I'm, at heart, a good person, I hope I am anyway. I fear I will be so changed by this experience that until I have my baby I will be unbearable to be with. Which leads me back to my original question, how do I stop the want???

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I wouldn't wish this on my worst, most hated enemy. The funny thing is is that when I find out people I know are pregnant, I feel the worst case of jealousy. Why do I feel this way when I wouldn't want them to experience this?? I should be happy for them that they don't have to experience, month after month, the negative home pregnancy test. I guess I just wish I could be part of that group as well.


Mark and I have devised a plan that I hope will help stop the want:

Step one: Enjoy each other again without the weight of the drugs, doctors, sterile procedures and hormones weighing down upon us.

Step two: Travel. Now that we are still unfettered, why not see the world? We want to try to save some money for round three, but we also want to get out and explore while we still can. This step, in essence will add to and support step one.

Step three: While this step may not help, we are going to try to conceive (ttc) on our own. Just go back to nature and the basics on this one. It will still send me to the toilet with test in hand each month, and it will continue to feed my addiction for peeing on a stick (poas) but I don't think I couldn't not try right now.

I'm sure we will discover more steps as we find our way and become more comfortable in our new world of relaxation, and fingers crossed it will all help stop the want.

Ok, here's the scoop:

Mark and I have been trying to have a baby for over two years now. That might be ok if we hadn't have gone through two failed Intra-uterine inseminations (IUI), a miscarriage of twin girls after a successful In vitro fertilization (IVF), and a failed frozen embryo (FET) cycle in January.

That's a lot of acronyms and they don't come cheap. Nor is it easy (physically or emotionally) to go through those processes, what with all the medications, doctor appointments, and shots.

The height of our depression came after the loss of our girls. I don't know that I can put into words how hard that hit us. Here, after putting ourselves in debt, subjecting my body to hormone after hormone, having Mark give me shots, which is an honor I normally reserve for doctors, and seeing our reproductive endocrinologist every other day (it seemed), we find out the good news, I'm pregnant. Not only have I achieved pregnancy, but we are expecting two, it was our insta-family. No more fertility treatments for us, we wouldn't have to go through all that again with twins. Who cares that we are now $15,ooo or so in debt, we have a family!

Then came the news. On our first ultrasound they find that their heartbeats aren't as fast as they should be. We were told it could be nothing and were told to find a high risk obstetrician. They tell us to come back in a few days to see if the girls have progressed. Wow. Those were two of the most stressful days filled with anxiety, hope, positive thinking, realistic thinking and despair. The worst part of all was that here I am charged with the care of these little ones and my hands were tied. There was nothing I could do to help them grow strong. As a new mother, or any mother for that matter, this must be one of the harder things to come to terms with, not being able to help your kids.

We went back a few days later and discovered their heart rates had dipped down even further and they had not grown. I was supposed to be 8 or so weeks along by then and they were only measuring at six. Heartbreak. Again, I was helpless. Nothing I could do would help them, and it was only a matter of time before they would die. Die inside of me. Nothing I could do. My two girls that we struggled so hard to have were going to die. They made us wait again and come back in a week to confirm the grim news. This, again, was a horrible waiting game because you think maybe God will give us a miracle and they will turn around or maybe the doctors are wrong and they will survive. False hope is a dangerous thing and all my delusional positive thinking was proven wrong.

I was given the choice of whether I wanted to miscarry on my own or to have the dilation and curettage (D&C). I opted for the D&C just to get this horrible experience over with. That was an emotional experience as well. I was pregnant when I went in and not so much when I left. The only positive experience during this time was that Mark and I grew closer. We bonded through the loss, it felt like it was him and I against the world and that brought us together in a way I think we hadn't experienced before.

We had the girls tested to see if they could determine what, if anything went wrong. It was determined that they had trisomy 14, which is a nice way of saying that they had chromosome abnormalities and had they survived would have had terrible birth defects and probably wouldn't have lived long after birth. They couldn't determine if they were identical or fraternal, but I have my suspicions that they were identical. So, now it was time to see how this happened and who, if anyone contributed to this. It could have been just a fluke, one of mother nature's goofs. Mark and I both got tested. My test came back "normal" pretty quickly. We had to wait for Mark's results for what seemed like an eternity. It turns out Mark has a balanced Robertsonian translocation. In essence this means that we have a two out of six chance to produce a "normal" child. The other four times the pregnancy will end in miscarriage.

Bad news, yes. But, at least now we knew what we are dealing with after a year and a half of failure to get pregnant. I would much rather know so that we could see about fixing it instead of being in the dark still. Of course I felt really bad for Mark. How would I have dealt with it had it been my bad genes?

So, fast forward from September of 2007 to December 2007. We had 7 frozen embryos from the IVF to work with. And now that we knew what we were dealing with it was possible to test the embryos for any chromosome abnormalities before transferring them. The only obstacle at this point was money. We do well, but not that well. Of course, the procedure grew more costly as the days went by with the genetic counseling, the annual blood work we fell behind on and all the hidden costs they seem to conveniently leave out. We are SO very thankful for the help of both our parents. Without them none of this would have been possible.

We proceeded with guarded optimism. After all, they could test the embryos, and IVF worked the first time. I had no reason to believe that this wasn't our time. I was due. The universe owed me. How could my God not give me this gift? He, above everyone else knew what I went through, knew my pain, how could this not be my time? Out of the six embryos that survived the thaw, two came back "normal". We were ecstatic. We were worried none would come back normal and here we had two! How could this not be the one, I just knew I was pregnant. I was wrong. The pregnancy test came back negative. What a blow. If ever there was a time I questioned my belief in God, it was now. I'd always heard and often agreed with the saying "Life isn't fair". I know that. I just figured after all we'd been through our time had arrived. We'd suffered the unfairness and were ready to swim in what I felt was due to us. What kind of loving God would put us through infertility, give us hope only to rip it away from our ready, desperate hands?

We're now back at square one, or maybe even behind in the count. We're in debt and not pregnant. What can we do now? Another IVF cycle would cost close to $20,000. Adoption is just as expensive and can take up to three years. Of course we will try on our own, but I've lost all hope that this will happen naturally for us. Maybe my once hopeful now turned cynical outlook will turn the tides for us somehow. Maybe all those "just relax and it will happen" pieces of wisdom I've heard throughout this will finally come true. I've had nothing but hope through all this and I've gone and spent it all. It's gone.

To me, this forced break feels like we're quitting, giving up. I don't want to give up yet, but it's hard to move ahead with no resources, neither financial nor emotional. If it were up to me, in a perfect world, we would continue IVF until we were successful and stopping now feels wrong.

I wish my doctor would've told me after we found out I wasn't pregnant this last time, "Didn't you know?! We're running a special, it's buy two get one free!" Instead he recommended another IVF cycle and suggested I call when we're ready to see if there are any studies going on that might help with the payment of all this.

Sorry that was so long, but I think even just getting all that out there is therapeutic. So, now you know where we're at and where we came from.

Thanks for reading!

Not that anyone will be reading this, but welcome anyway!
This will likely turn into a pity party for one, but we'll see!