I Don’t Want A Baby Anymore

“You’ve never really been a baby person”, my Mother informs me over the phone while I plunge my nightly Ganirelix shot in to my abdomen. As I load up my Menopur injection she says “if this (IVF) doesn’t work, you should give up. You could adopt a two-year old. That way your body won’t be ruined and you won’t have to worry about the sleepless nights”.

My Mother, is 100% correct. I am not nor have I ever been a “baby person”.

When I was younger I never played with dolls, I never babysat and I never planned my dream wedding or dream family. I spent my free time reading about far away places and other cultures. My dream was to travel the world and birthing a baby was a very distant concept. Even today when someone enters a room with a baby, I will oooo and ahhh over it and then quickly escape to adult conversation, glass of wine in hand. My short attention span only allows for me to dote for about five minutes before I move on to something else.  I don’t understand how people are mesmerized by a little person that does nothing more than sleep, cry and poop; unless of course the baby is their own.

What my mother forgot to consider in the course of our conversation is that motherhood,  continues after a baby becomes a toddler. It goes on after the toddler reaches pre-school age. It continues through kindergarten, high school, college, marriage, children and even death. Motherhood is a lifelong commitment.

I don’t want a baby anymore. I want a human.

I want a human with my husband’s blue eyes and my blonde hair.  I want a human with my husband’s laid-back demeanor and my curiosity. I want a human that laughs, cries and feels love, joy and compassion. I want a human that is so full of life and so full of imperfection that it makes them uniquely them. I want to mother my very own human with every ounce of who I am until I take my very last breath on this earth. I want to intimately  know the highest highs and the lowest lows of motherhood. When my human hurts, I will hurt. When my human feels joy, I will feel joy.

I believe my Mother’s advice, comes from a place of maternal love. Something that I  will one day experience. She watches her oldest baby physically and emotionally hurt and there is not a damn thing she can do about it. It has to be one of the most difficult positions to be in as a parent.

So she tries to rationalize the situation for the both of us by suggesting an alternative “if – then” scenario. But what my Mother forgets  is that I am her human. With my Dad’s forehead and her determination. My Dad gave me my love of reading, NPR and healthy eating, but my fight and perseverance, now that came from my Mother.

If I wasn’t my Mother’s human I may have given up a long time ago. She taught me to fight for what I want and for what is right.

So “giving up” is not and will never be part of my vocabulary.  If there comes a time where life requires me to adjust my sails I will certainly consider my options at that time. Until then, eye on the prize. Year of the baby. In it to twin it. I can’t wait to bring my little human home from the hospital come this fall. 🙂


Progesterone Oil up for grabs

Hi everyone, random blog post but I have to unused and unopened vials (50mg/ml) of progesterone oil and the syringes left over from my first (canceled) IVF that I will not be needing this round. My RE has prescribed me Endometrium. They are good through July 2014. If anybody would like them I am happy to ship  to you. The IVF process is pricey and it would make me very happy to be able to lovingly donate them to an IVF sista in need. If nobody needs them but knows of somewhere I can donate left over meds let me know!

Menopur Meltdown: IVF Day # 6

… And yesterday I had a monumental meltdown.

Hell hath no fury like a woman hopped up on 5 different types of hormones.

The IVF process has a habit of putting marriages under a microscope. Currently, under my marital microscope, my husband is grounded from participating in my injections after he gave me not one but two incorrect dosages.

The first alleged fail was the evening of Day 5 when he was supposed to give me 150 iu of Menopur and only gave me 75iu. I had not been refereeing his dosing so I was blissfully unaware until he mentioned it to the nurse at my day 6 blood work and ultrasound. The nurse immediately gave me the additional 75iu of meds and said it should not negatively impact my cycle.

The subsequent error was last night which was responsible for my emotional tailspin. In an effort to help the growth of my 9 maturing follicles my Dr. added 50 iu of human growth hormone. It was the first injection of the evening which came with explicit written directions from my Dr. After strike 1 on the dosing I made sure to actively participate in my medication prep by read the instructions out loud and having him repeat them back to me. The ONLY thing I did not do was check how much medication he put in the syringe. Moments after giving me the injections he started panicking a bit and announced he had given me double the dose!

And this is when I lost it! Not because the dosing was messed up, but because everything that moment represented. All the what if’s stripped me of any rational thinking and left me standing there emotionally exposed.

I cried. I bawled. I kept yelling how could you? How could you be so careless? How could you mess up again? How could you be so reckless with my body and the potential of our future? I cried some more. And then I had to stop and take the remaining three injections. After that I continued crying and wallowing in my fear that this cycle had been ruined, while my panic-stricken husband dialed the on-call  nurse.

I am not a crier nor am I overly emotional so this type of emotional reaction is reserved for once every three to four years and I was clearly overdue. In that moment, infertility won. What I have experienced these past three years finally got the best of me. It was if all the emotional pain, frustration and anger was funneled to this one particular situation.

All I could think about was how hard I’ve worked for those 9 little follicles to be developing. I have essentially stopped living to create a life. No gluten, no caffeine, no alcohol diet. My free time consumed with yoga, acupuncture, searching for wheat grass and up to 40 pills a day. I haven’t been in a hot tub or sauna in over a year. Gone are the days of running half marathons and doing triathlons out of fear of overexertion. And list keeps going.

So the idea that a few messed up injections could take me out of the running for motherhood this month was too much.

I’ll find out tomorrow morning what negative effects (if any) the dosing had on me when I go in for another round of labs and an ultrasound.

Until then, my husband and I will enjoy the imperfectly perfect spouses we are to one another. 🙂

In It To Twin It – IVF Round # 2


Day F’ing: 1.

This round I am much more fearful of everything. Fearful that my body won’t respond. Fearful that if it does and they are able to retrieve the embyros they won’t be mature enough or high quality enough. And fearful if we are able to make it to the grande finale of the whole shebang that they will not implant. I know this time what can go wrong and what I am actually up against. My last round of IVF was pure blissful ignorance.

Since I am on a roll about divulging my current mental state I will also admit that I am in it to twin it. With the thousands and thousands of dollars that are slowly seeping out of our bank account I secretly and selfishly hope for twins.  Having twins would be an added bonus. It’s the BOGO (buy one get one free) of the reproductive medicine industry. In all seriousness though like all in this situation, I would happily and joyfully welcome one healthy, living happy baby girl or boy in to my arms after this process is over. The idea of twins is a nice, happy thought that I like putting out in the universe. 🙂

STATS of this IVF thus far:

Me: 32, diagnosed with diminished ovarian reserve. I’ve been told that while DOR is not an amazing diagnosis I am young enough and not in too bad of shape that I still have a really good shot of getting pregnant with my own embyros.

CD: 2

Antral Follicle Count: 11

E2 – 37

FSH – 11 (Yikes. At 32 that hurts to hear but it was not high enough to rule me out thankfully. It was also not surprising).

Protocol – 225iu Follistim an 75iu Menopur until day 3 only once a day in the evenings. How freaking lucky am I? On the failed cycle my doctor started me on 250iu Follistim twice daily with 50iu Lupron twice daily.

Will provide update on day 3…WHEEEEE!

What Does A Girl Need To Do to Get a Wheatgrass Shot Around Here?

IVF #2 is about to commence. My precisely packed cooler of needles and medication arrived today and it will be any day now that the poking a prodding begin again.

For those who are new to my blog IVF #1 I canceled in September of last year after the epic failure it was. I had an antral follicle count of 12 and after two weeks of stimming my body had only matured three eggs. My protocol was  follistim micro-flare Lupron after a month of birth control pills.  Long story short, my Florida Dr was a dick  (Dear RE You’re Fired)  so I fired him and am back with my RE in Los Angeles for this cycle. My LA RE seems to think my body did not respond because I was too suppressed with the BCP and high dosage of Follistim (600 iu a day).

Since my canceled cycle I took several months off to enjoy the holidays and shower my body with love and kindness. In last several months I have kicked it in to high-gear to prepare my body for this cycle.

This is what I have done thus far:

– Weekly Acupuncture since September

– Chinese herbs that taste just awful twice daily since September. My acupuncturist said my kidney line was shut down or something like that and to drink the herbs. I have no idea what I’ve been drinking but she has a wall full of birth announcements from past patients that she has helped so I believe her.

– 600 mg CoQ10 Ubiquinol daily ( 200 mg morning, noon and night). This was a recommendation made by my Los Angeles RE. I’ve taken them since September.

– 3mg to 6mg Melatonin nightly since September

– 5000 mg of Vitamin D since September ( It was found that I was deficient)

– a minimum of 8 hours of sleep a night since September

– Gluten free since September

– Daily 2oz shots of wheatgrass (last two weeks). Let me tell you, getting wheatgrass shots in Orlando is difficult. Some days I drive an hour round trip to drink this stuff. The only reason I added this to my regime is because Dr. Google tells me so.

– No caffeine, dairy or alcohol since January 1st. Actually, no. That is a complete lie. That is what I should have done. I have snuck in four glasses of wine in the past 15 days and I ate Cheese Puffs which surprisingly actually contain dairy. Yes, I know they have cheese in the name but I assumed they were so processed it was just a dusting of faux cheese flavoring. If there is such thing as infertile guilt I have it. But with everything I am trying to do to have the best odds at IVF #2 working I feel like I am going to lose my mind.

– Yoga 3 times a week since January 1st. My knees are killing me from kneeling so much on the hardwood floors of my gym’s yoga studio.

We will see if any of my crazy will make a difference. I will post my protocol as soon as I receive the official one from my Dr.

God will give you more than you can handle: I guarantee it.

God does give us more than we can handle!!! Here I have been believing that God trusts me too much. That I am supposed to be able to handle everything life throws at me with decorum and grace. I gave all of my stress and all of my worry about pregnancy and infertility back to him this week. WHEW!

all our lemmony things

There’s a certain phrase I’ve come to really dislike.

All my life, I’ve heard this phrase whenever I go through a rough patch. *And by rough patch, I mean a prickly, gnarly patch that leaves me bleeding to near death*. You’re probably familiar with those kinds of “patches”.

“God will never give you more than you can handle” is the phrase I’m referring to.

more than to bear

And it’s a sweet sentiment, really. The people who say it are speaking from caring and concerned hearts.

BUT–it isn’t true.

I know that sounds harsh, but I promise I haven’t suddenly lost my mind or have become an angry-with-God bitter woman who hates the world. Actually, when I realized the simple fact that God can–and will–give us more than we can possibly bear, it got easier.

And it all started to make more sense.

I’ve often trudged through trials that overwhelm me. Ever since my…

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