Q: How have you been? (Read: Are you secretly pregnant?!?)
A: I am not that great, but I try not to live my life like a
giant sad sack all the time. I go to work, I run, I plan trips, I watch my
favorite TV shows. Infertility is always there in the back of my mind, often
the front. Pregnant bellies, cute babies and happy families are literally
everywhere I go, constantly reminding me of my unfulfilled desires. Seeing them
fills me with despair, which is twisted and makes me feel like and alien, like
the sinister kind from Prometheus,
not the cute kind from Toy Story. It
seems like the easiest, most natural thing in the world for most people to
conceive, but it’s something we can’t manage to do no matter what we try, which
is heartbreaking and helpless-feeling and frustrating and very scary. But like I said, I just
keep getting up and going about my day, and I try to make the best of my life.
And I assure you, I am not secretly pregnant. If Philip and
I do manage to become pregnant by means of some expensive treatment, there is
no way I will be able to keep it private for three months. I promise you, you
will find out very soon after we find out — and you’ll get to follow me as I
fret and agonize over the very real chance that the pregnancy won’t last.
Q: Have you been to a fertility specialist?
A: Yes, we are seeing Dr. DeVane at the
Center forReproductive Medicine in Orlando. We liked him very much at our initial
two-hour consultation. And we haven’t laid eyes on him since. That’s not
entirely true — I did see him from a distance a couple times at the clinic, and
I felt like I was seeing a mirage or an angel in a dream. Hopefully we’ll get
to interact with him more once we start more aggressive treatments.
Q: Did they find anything wrong with you?
A: Not really. My ovarian reserve was too high, which suggests
an ovulatory problem and made the doctor suspect PCOS. However, further testing
showed I most likely do not have PCOS, as my insulin levels were normal. I have
all the signs of ovulation every month — cervical fluid, elevated temperatures,
normal progesterone levels and a regular period. The doctor suggested that
although I may be ovulating, the eggs may not actually be rupturing out of the
follicles. We don’t know for sure though, and the only way to find out would be
to perform a series of ultrasounds. Ultrasounds run about $150 to $275 a pop (and our insurance doesn’t cover any fertility treatment),
so I’m not really interested in doing that — especially since, whether my
follicles are rupturing or not, the treatments are the same. P.S. My fallopian
tubes are not blocked. Yay.
Q: Did they find anything wrong with Philip?
A: Not really. His morphology was a little out of normal
range, but not enough to warrant him seeing a urologist or to start any
medication.
Q: Are you doing any treatments?
A: We have done two cycles of medication plus “timed
relations.” Both months, I took 2.5mg of Letrozole for five days. Letrozole is
a breast-cancer drug that lowers estrogen levels, similar to Clomid. Philip
also gave me an injection of Ovidrel in my stomach both months. Ovidrel stimulates
ovulation. Fun fact: Its production process involves the expansion of
genetically modified Chinese Hamster Ovary cells. Don’t be jealous. Then we had
sex. This approach did not work for us.
Q: What’s the latest with fertility stuff?
A: We are taking a month off from treatment this month
because of personal travel that conflicted with ovulation. Taking a month off
has been a nice break, and I don’t miss going to get poked and prodded at the
clinic every few days. It is also making me feel hella impatient and completely
crazed, but I keep trying to remind myself that this was the decision we made,
and we prioritized other things this month. The plan right now is to try our
first IUI next month.
Q: Oh, I think my friend did that! Is that where they make
the baby in like a … test tube or something?
A: No. IUI stands for Intrauterine Insemination. What you
are thinking of is IVF (more on that in a moment). It used to be called
“artificial insemination”; thank God they abandoned that moniker. Philip will
create a semen sample, and then lab technicians will “wash” it, essentially
weeding out the champs from the losers. Then they’ll put the little guys in a
centrifuge and get them all wound up, then inject them directly into my uterus.
This way, they won’t be subjected to the hostile, acidic environment of my big,
bad vag, and they’ll be a lot closer to the end goal, so they don’t wimp out
too soon. From what I’ve read, about 10 percent of IUI cycles result in a
pregnancy. Those are not great odds. However, I ended up in the 10 percent of
people who are infertile, so anything is possible.
Usually a fertility doctor recommends three cycles of IUI
before moving on to IVF. That stands for In Vitro Fertilization, and that is
when they’ll retrieve my eggs and mix them with Philip’s sperm in a Petri dish.
After the eggs are fertilized, the doctor will take the one or two most
promising-looking blastocysts and transfer them directly into my uterus, hoping
they’ll implant. About half of all IVF cycles in my age group result in a
pregnancy. These are much better odds, but as you can see, still not a
guarantee by any means. Also, an IUI cycle costs about $1,000. An IFV cycle
costs about $12-20K. So there’s that.
Q: Well, at least you know you WILL be a mother someday, even
if it’s through adoption, right?
A: Actually, I don’t know that, which is largely what makes
this so difficult. Statistically, 5 percent of women won’t be able to conceive,
even with treatment. And to conceive with my own body is what I want. To be frank,
I want to carry a baby in my own uterus that is made up of my egg and Philip’s
sperm. I want to go through everything that pregnancy entails — the getting
fatter, the throwing up, the feeling of the baby moving around inside, and the giving
birth, no matter how painful it is. The thought of going through multiple
cycles of IVF without success overwhelms me and brings me to tears, and we’re
nowhere near IVF yet. When it comes to treatment, I don’t know how far is too
far for us. I don’t know when we finally surrender and start looking at other
options — and other options are just as emotionally grueling, uncertain,
expensive and drawn out. If I KNEW we would be parents someday, and it was just
a matter of waiting, it would be difficult, but it would be much more bearable.
It’s the fear that after all of this — and so much more — we still may have to
face the fact that we’ll forever be a family of two. People tell me all the
time, “It’ll happen,” and I appreciate that they’re just trying to be
reassuring. But I don’t know that it will happen. And that’s what’s so
terrifying.
Q: What if you did IVF and ended up having twins?
A: I would be THRILLED!!!!!!!!
