Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Wounded
Our dog died yesterday and D got her period this morning. This has been an awful week. We're going to take a break from the baby making process and lick our wounds for a while.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Two Shooting Stars
On April 13, D and I went to CRM for the scheduled retrieval. While D, loopy from the Twilight anesthesia, was wheeled into the operating room, I was asked to sit in a tiny waiting room where I could watch the entire procedure on a small television monitor. I watched as a needle-like instrument punctured D's bloated follicles, which look like big black balloons on an otherwise white and grayish image of her uterus and ovaries, and deflated them one by one. All of the follicles were drained in about ten minutes and afterwards Dr. Devane poked his head into the waiting room and said, "They've already found six, but there might be more." I was able to spend the next twenty minutes in a tiny curtained room with D while she recovered. She was very loopy, but seemed to enjoy the drugs, remarking that it felt like drinking a couple Pina Coladas while laying in a hammock in the sun. Talking to her was like talking to someone with short term memory loss -- I'd ask her if she remembered me telling her what I had just told her, and she'd smile and say no. Finally, the drugs wore off, and Dr. Devane came in to tell us that the total count of eggs was eleven. Eleven? How could there be eleven when there were only three or maybe five mature ones two days before? The next day, we received a call from a nurse at the Center with "the fert count," which in laymen speak is the number of eggs that fertilized. We were told that eleven of the eleven eggs fertilized -- half through the normal method and half through ICSI (where one sperm is selected and injected into the egg). D and I were dumbstruck. Eleven out of eleven? The transfer was scheduled for this morning (Saturday, April 16). Dr. Jaffe gave us pictures of the embryos -- grade 1, which is the best, and grade 2, which is almost as good, and explained that three others looked like they were going to keep growing to blastocycts. If the three grade 2's continue to grow and divide normally until Monday, then they will be frozen for future use. During the transfer, D didn't get any Pina Coladas. Instead, she was told to take one valium right before the procedure (for cramping afterwards), and I was off to the waiting room again. This time, on the monitor's hazy image, I was able to make out two bright, shining lights (like little stars) being set free into D's womb. Two shooting stars and I made a wish. Now, D is on bed rest and we're both going just a little crazy watching movies from the couch. Staying still can be pretty exhausting.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Cancelled Classes and Grandma's Birthday
We've been told that there are three mature follicles on D's right ovary and possibly two (they are a little on the small side being 15 mm. so the doctors are hoping that by the time of retrieval they will have matured enough to produce a viable egg) on D's left ovary. We were instructed to give D the Ovidrel injection (which induces ovulation) tonight and come in for a pre-op appointment tomorrow afternoon, at which time they will explain the retrieval procedure. The retrieval is scheduled for Wednesday morning (34 - 36 hours after Ovidrel). My students were exceptionally happy to hear that I'm canceling my classes that normally meet before noon on Wednesday -- To be honest, I was a little offended by their reaction but that didn't stop me from being blissfully happy about the potential that we'll be expecting in a few weeks. The transfer will be three days after Wednesday, which makes it April 16. April 16, coincidentally is my grandmother's Birthday. We're both hopeful that the date is a good omen.
Friday, April 8, 2011
One Year Anniversary
So, what's this hoopla I hear about uterus being a dirty word that can't be spoken in Congress? These guys don't get out much, do they?
Anyway, I haven't posted in quite some time because we've been working toward getting into the PURSUE study that I mentioned in an earlier post. After two rounds of antibiotics to clear up a mysterious bout of endometritus, a trillion blood tests, and a tsunami of stress, D has finally been randomized. And yes, we both feel very random after all of this. : ) We started the study regimen on Sunday. She had blood work and an ultrasound (both of which are now daily occurrences)followed by two injections -- one that was the study drug (or placebo) and the other that was 300 mg. of Follistem (or placebo). We were given a journal in which we have to record the date and time of every injection, as well as instructions on what is to be done each day. For the first five days, D gave herself a 300 mg. Follistem injection (or placebo) in her stomach. Follistem stimulates the growth of follicles. On the fifth day, she started Ganirelex (which prevents ovulation), and that shot was given in her thigh; this will allow the smaller follicles to grow to maturity (hopefully) while preventing the larger follicles from releasing their eggs. Today was day six of our stimulation cycle. D administered the Follistem injection and the Ganirelex injection today and will continue with both for another two days. She had three large follicles in her right ovary (16 mm was the largest) and a few smaller ones on the left ovary (12 mm and smaller). After day 8, we'll be instructed when to induce ovulation with Ovidrel. Three days later, the retrieval will occur, and the transfer will take place three days after that. Two blasts will be transferred. And then we wait eighteen days.
Looking at the calendar the other day, I realized that we're approaching the one year anniversary of the day that we started this process -- April 28th was our first appointment at CRM. Hopefully, one year is enough... We're both exhausted and D could be mistaken for a heroine addict or pin cushion with all the pricking. Not a good look for her. : )
Anyway, I haven't posted in quite some time because we've been working toward getting into the PURSUE study that I mentioned in an earlier post. After two rounds of antibiotics to clear up a mysterious bout of endometritus, a trillion blood tests, and a tsunami of stress, D has finally been randomized. And yes, we both feel very random after all of this. : ) We started the study regimen on Sunday. She had blood work and an ultrasound (both of which are now daily occurrences)followed by two injections -- one that was the study drug (or placebo) and the other that was 300 mg. of Follistem (or placebo). We were given a journal in which we have to record the date and time of every injection, as well as instructions on what is to be done each day. For the first five days, D gave herself a 300 mg. Follistem injection (or placebo) in her stomach. Follistem stimulates the growth of follicles. On the fifth day, she started Ganirelex (which prevents ovulation), and that shot was given in her thigh; this will allow the smaller follicles to grow to maturity (hopefully) while preventing the larger follicles from releasing their eggs. Today was day six of our stimulation cycle. D administered the Follistem injection and the Ganirelex injection today and will continue with both for another two days. She had three large follicles in her right ovary (16 mm was the largest) and a few smaller ones on the left ovary (12 mm and smaller). After day 8, we'll be instructed when to induce ovulation with Ovidrel. Three days later, the retrieval will occur, and the transfer will take place three days after that. Two blasts will be transferred. And then we wait eighteen days.
Looking at the calendar the other day, I realized that we're approaching the one year anniversary of the day that we started this process -- April 28th was our first appointment at CRM. Hopefully, one year is enough... We're both exhausted and D could be mistaken for a heroine addict or pin cushion with all the pricking. Not a good look for her. : )
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Try 5 Update
Try 5 proved a failure so we're starting the IVF cycle for the drug trial with blood tests on D's days 2 and 3 (day 2 is tomorrow). We're also required to attend a seminar on IVF. Even though we're obviously disappointed that we've had five failed attempts, we're still optimistic. And at least D will be more closely monitored during the trial than she was in previous IUI attempts.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Pregnant Guinea Pig
We've been approved for the drug trial that I mentioned in an earlier post, and that will afford us one free cycle of IVF, which normally costs between 10,000 and 12,000 dollars at CRM. The chances of conceiving are much greater with IVF than with IUI, so we're thrilled that we're candidates and we don't mind being guinea pigs as long as we end up pregnant guinea pigs -- well, one of us anyway. We're still waiting for confirmation, though, on try # 5 and should know by Wednesday. If try # 5 doesn't work, we'll start the testing for IVF; however, we were told that it's not likely that we'll actually complete the IVF cycle until January since it's much more involved than IUI. We decided one free and successful IVF cycle is the best Christmas present we could ever hope for. So, we have a short list this year -- just one item there -- a family.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Brokedom
As you might have guessed, we're waiting to find out if try # 5 worked. We have about a week left. This time Dr. J added a cycle of Gonal-F to our drug regimen -- so now D took the Letrozole from day 3 to 7 and Gonal-F injections from day 5 to 8. We went in on D's day 8 for an ovary check, and one follicle was already 20 mm. so we were directed to take the Ovidrel that night and come in 36 hours later for the insemination, which we did. Apparently, the Gonal-F improves the quality of D's eggs, so we're hoping that this will be our last cycle. Fingers crossed! For those of you planning to go through this process yourselves, 'just a heads up about Gonal-F -- it's really expensive! It was about $260 for the pre-filled syringe and of course the expensive fertility drugs aren't covered by most insurance carriers (the Letrozole is covered so that costs us a copay of $40; the Ovidrel is not covered, but that costs only $50). As we plummet into brokedom, we're praying that this is our last cycle. More later...
Friday, October 15, 2010
No News is Good News
There's no news yet on try number four. We should know either today or tomorrow. I think both D and I are afraid to get excited or to jinx anything because we've both deliberately not mentioned the fact that right around now is the time that we should be testing. We had a consultation with Dr. Jaffe to reassess our situation given the past few unsuccessful attempts. I had anticipated that Dr. J would remind us that the chances for success drop significantly after three failed attempts, but she actually encouraged us to keep trying IUI with a slight change in our drug regimen (she suggested that we try four more times before considering more extreme -- more expensive -- measures). Most hetero couples try for six to twelve months on their own before seeking treatment at fertility clinics, so Dr. J reasoned that the available stats wouldn't be accurate for us, given that we hadn't had the months of trials before beginning treatmentm. She suggested adding Gonal-F injections into the mix. She also tested D's hormone levels to determine whether something else might need to be adjusted in our treatment plan. The results showed that D had slightly elevated DHEAS levels (androgens that have something to do with insulin resistance), which can, apparently be corrected with a perscription. This could have a slight effect on egg quality and lessen our chances for pregnancy. However, when the doctors were looking over D's chart, they realized that she might be a good candidate for a certain drug trial that the Center is particapating in. Our participation would afford us one free cycle of IVF, which is not covered by our health insurance carrier and normally costs about the price of a car. Participation requires that D not take any drugs besides the one that's the focus of the trial, so the doctors chose not to correct the slight hormonal imblance that they uncovered. The ovary stimulation drug involved in the trial has already been approved in Europe and has been in use for quite some time. We're going to discuss this option further should try number four prove a failure. Keep your fingers crossed, rub your Budha's belly, and I'll be back to post in a couple days.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Fast Charmer
Try number 3 failed, so we've kicked Eagle Scout Drummer boy to the curb. Perhaps the Eagle Scout was too squeaky clean for us? Anyway, we've chosen a new donor called "Fast Charmer," and we're hoping he charms D's egg and gets us pregnant. Try number 4 will be Friday. Everyone think good thoughts.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Three Times the Charm
I apologize for being lax with updating this blog. Baby making has become a long and arduous process. So, the incredible Hulk of follicles was a bust, and we're onto number three. On Sunday, the ultrasound revealed one follicle at 16 mm and another at 13 mm. After reviewing D's E2 levels and the ultrasound results, the doctor instructed us to wait until Tuesday to trigger. We were a little concerned about the timing since we've missed our window several times and follicles can grow anywhere between 1 and 3 mm per day (you'll recall that 18 mm is optimal), so we asked for a second opinion. Another doctor reviewed D's chart and instructed us to trigger one day sooner and to listen to D's insight into her body. So, now, we're triggering tonight (Monday) and inseminating Wednesday. Let's hope this is the one. Dr. Jaffe's nurse told us that we'll need to schedule a consultation prior to continuing treatment if this IUI doesn't work given that the chances of pregnancy decrease significantly after three well-timed IUI's. I'm not convinced that we've had any WELL TIMED IUI's and neither is D, so we'll probably continue for a few more cycles before considering alternate treatments. So, that's the news. Wednesday's the day. We're hoping for lots of baby dust and good luck!
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
The Incredible Hulk of Follicles!
We went for D's second ovary check today (cycle day 11). Surprise, everyone, her ovaries are still there! Actually, we got some good news (I think?). Two follicles were found in D's right ovary -- one was 27 mm (which is "too large," according to the technician), and the other was 14 mm. The gargantuan 27 mm follicle made the nurse think that D might have already ovulated (which would mean that we missed our window). She drew blood to test for E2 and progesterone. The results came in this afternoon. D's progesterone level suggests that she hasn't yet ovulated but that she's very close (1.2). Given the blood work results and the extra large follicle, the doctor recommended that we give her the trigger shot tonight and do an insemination tomorrow. So, tomorrow is try number two with the Incredible Hulk of follicles. Baby dust come our way!
Monday, July 26, 2010
Lunacy and Lunar Cycles
Sadly, we realized that D wasn't pregnant on Sunday when her menstrual cycle decided to make its appearance with the full moon. Thirty-four days when she normally has a twenty-six day cycle! Seriously? D's always hated her period, but now that hate has evolved into more of an intense, seething hostility. Tomorrow, D goes in for an ovary check, which we've both decided is just an excuse to charge patients for an unneeded ultrasound. All the technician does during the first ovary check of the cycle is confirm that D's ovaries are still there. Where would they go? Anyway, after the ovary check, she'll be prescribed five days worth of Letrozole and one Oviderel (HCG) shot to induce ovulation once the follicles are large enough. Here we go again... For some reason, I think straight baby-making is more fun.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Peeing without the Stick
So, today is the 21st -- PT Day (Pregnancy Test Day). Of course, both D and I couldn't stand the wait and decided to jump the gun and test early yesterday, mid-afternoon. Sadly, the test came up negative, but we're hopeful that we just tested a little too early and/or D's pee wasn't as concentrated as it needed to be to get an accurate reading (the instructions recommended either using first morning urine or holding pee for a certain number of hours prior to testing). Since we did neither of these, we had planned to re-test this morning with the recommended first morning urine, but in her normal sleepy, zombie-like state, D peed without testing while I was in the shower. Hence, we've decided to wait until tomorrow morning. D's last period began on the night of June 22nd, which makes today the 30th day. By tomorrow, she'll officially be three days late. While we both are thinking optimistically because of her lateness, we're still skeptical given the negative reading yesterday. We're also unsure of whether inducing ovulation with the HCG shot can delay her period. So, we'll wait some more... And I'll make sure to put the toilet seat up before I go to bed tonight just in case a comatose D decides to direct her sights on the toilet without being armed with the stick.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Musak and Stirrups
I hope everyone's thinking positive thoughts for us. We had our first IUI procedure yesterday. Before the procedure, the nurse asked us to verify that the donor's number was the same as that marked on the vial. Then the doctor told us about the donor sperm's concentration (40 million per ml) and motility (65%), both of which were apparently excellent for a frozen specimen. You go Eagle Scout Drummer! During the IUI, a catheter is used to inject washed sperm directly into the uterus. D said that it hurt a little. The whole procedure took a momentous five seconds -- we exhausted ourselves worrying about this for the last three months and it's over with one five second plunger push. How anticlimactic!? Afterward, D was told to remain lying down for fifteen minutes before dressing, so we were left in the room listening to bad Musak with D's feet in stirrups. Despite the unromantic, sterile atmosphere and the Air Supply, I still managed to get weepy thinking of the possibilities while D and I held hands and waited for the nurse to return. Our next appointment, which is to test D's progesterone level, is scheduled for one week after the procedure. Pregnancy, though, can't be confirmed until one week after that -- the 21st. Since it is a thirteen day wait, maybe it's not appropriate for me to ask that you keep your fingers crossed, but do think positive thoughts.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Page One of Our Family Fairy Tale
The follicle had grown to 15mm by the time of our Saturday appointment, so we were told to give D the trigger shot on Monday evening and schedule the IUI for Wednesday. At 12:45 tomorrow, D will be inseminated.
We're a little worried that the timing isn't right, but then again worrying seems to be old hat for us these days. We bought an ovulation predictor kit Sunday evening and have tested D practically every hour since. The box is supposed to be a one-month supply but I'm certain that it won't last us longer than Wednesday morning.
Monday (pre-shot) went something like this:
1. First, we panicked when we couldn't find the medicine, which over a month ago we had carefully placed behind the eggs in the refrigerator. I frantically threw yogurt containers around in what seemed to be a frenzied dance as D said over my shoulder "Where the hell is it?! What did you do with it?! I put it right there!" (We finally realized that it had somehow fallen to the first shelf).
2. We were all set to go -- washed hands, clean work surface, sterile gauze pad, rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, pre-filled Ovidrel syringe -- check. We then read the instructions and realized we had to wait for the medicine to return to room temperature prior to administering it. Of course we then panicked about not knowing how long it takes for medicine that has been in the refrigerator to return to room temperature. And we had no idea how we would know when it was room temperature.
3. After waiting about twenty minutes, we then freaked out again over the brevity of the directions that came with the medicine and frantically searched for videos on YouTube to make sure we were properly clearing the air from the syringe and injecting it correctly. When in doubt, check YouTube. Who would think that we'd find one? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A55hXymEXnQ
4. I watched D stand with the needle positioned at a 90 degree angle ready to stab it into her pinched abdominal flesh for what seemed like twenty minutes while she laughed and said things like "This just isn't natural [...]. I don't think I can do this [...]. I can't do this!" I offered to do it for her, but D was apparently more scared by that idea than stabbing herself.
She finally did do it (which is good because although I offered I didn't know if I could really do it), and after reporting our injection success to the soon-to-be grandmothers, we settled in for a night of catching up on recorded TV shows.
So, Wednesday is the day that we hope our son or daughter's life begins.
Once upon a time, on a Wednesday afternoon in July...
We're a little worried that the timing isn't right, but then again worrying seems to be old hat for us these days. We bought an ovulation predictor kit Sunday evening and have tested D practically every hour since. The box is supposed to be a one-month supply but I'm certain that it won't last us longer than Wednesday morning.
Monday (pre-shot) went something like this:
1. First, we panicked when we couldn't find the medicine, which over a month ago we had carefully placed behind the eggs in the refrigerator. I frantically threw yogurt containers around in what seemed to be a frenzied dance as D said over my shoulder "Where the hell is it?! What did you do with it?! I put it right there!" (We finally realized that it had somehow fallen to the first shelf).
2. We were all set to go -- washed hands, clean work surface, sterile gauze pad, rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, pre-filled Ovidrel syringe -- check. We then read the instructions and realized we had to wait for the medicine to return to room temperature prior to administering it. Of course we then panicked about not knowing how long it takes for medicine that has been in the refrigerator to return to room temperature. And we had no idea how we would know when it was room temperature.
3. After waiting about twenty minutes, we then freaked out again over the brevity of the directions that came with the medicine and frantically searched for videos on YouTube to make sure we were properly clearing the air from the syringe and injecting it correctly. When in doubt, check YouTube. Who would think that we'd find one? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A55hXymEXnQ
4. I watched D stand with the needle positioned at a 90 degree angle ready to stab it into her pinched abdominal flesh for what seemed like twenty minutes while she laughed and said things like "This just isn't natural [...]. I don't think I can do this [...]. I can't do this!" I offered to do it for her, but D was apparently more scared by that idea than stabbing herself.
She finally did do it (which is good because although I offered I didn't know if I could really do it), and after reporting our injection success to the soon-to-be grandmothers, we settled in for a night of catching up on recorded TV shows.
So, Wednesday is the day that we hope our son or daughter's life begins.
Once upon a time, on a Wednesday afternoon in July...
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Hoping for stained blouses...
All of that pep rally spirit you've been exuding seems to be working, but don't put those pompoms down yet! On cycle day 9, today, D had a follicle sized 13.4 mm. Follicles apparently grow about 2 mm per day. With 18 mm being the optimal size for the release of a mature egg, D's follicle should be done "cooking" on cycle day 11 or 12. At that time we will be instructed to give her the HCG trigger shot. So, if all goes well, the insemination would be scheduled for days 13 or 14 (Monday or Tuesday). We should hear more when D's bloodwork is analyzed later this afternoon. Apparently, they can tell more specifically where she is in her cycle by her estradiol (E2) levels. So, please keep cheering and twirling those batons for a few more days. Hopefully, if all goes as planned, sometime in late March of next year, I'll be going to work with spit-up on my blouse -- and I really do mean that I'm wishing for that.
UPDATE:
The bloodwork came back with 102 E2 level, which is good but indicates that the follicles are still maturing (200 E2 per mature follicle.) So, we have another appointment on Saturday (day 11) for a second ultrasound and blood test. If the follicles have grown up enough by then, the doctor will recommend that the HCG shot be administered that day. Monday then would be THE DAY!
UPDATE:
The bloodwork came back with 102 E2 level, which is good but indicates that the follicles are still maturing (200 E2 per mature follicle.) So, we have another appointment on Saturday (day 11) for a second ultrasound and blood test. If the follicles have grown up enough by then, the doctor will recommend that the HCG shot be administered that day. Monday then would be THE DAY!
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Pep Rally for Follicles
D took the prescribed medication as instructed, but her ovary check on cycle day 10 did not show enough "action" for the nurses to get excited about. Are her ovaries supposed to be discoing, I wondered. "Action," we've since learned, refers to follicle growth. D had some follicles but they were all really small. We were asked to return for another check in a few days to see if the follicles had grown.
I chanted "GROW, GROW, GROW!" to D's ovaries over the next couple days, thinking that maybe those little follicles were just confused or unmotivated and needed a pep rally. Well, no such luck. The second check revealed six follicles on one ovary, but none of the six were more than 9 mm. Apparently 18 mm. is the optimal size for insemination.
The good news is that Dr. Jaffe was utterly unfazed by this information and told D that there is absolutely nothing to worry about. D craftily asked the same question several times just to make sure:
"So there's nothing to be concerned about?"
"No, there's nothing to worry about."
"So, we shouldn't be worrying about anything then?"
"No, we'll just monitor things this month."
"So, we're just monitoring this month?"
I wonder if all patients do this weird parroting thing.
Since I didn't attend the second appointment, I came home from work armed with a gazillion questions even though D had given me a play by play on the phone while she was at the doctor's.
"So, she said that we shouldn't worry? Did you ask her specifically if there was anything wrong?"
Can you believe that this is what we've been reduced to? We used to have intelligent conversations in which we rarely repeated ourselves and now look at us!
Anyway, it seems that D's body just didn't have the response to the medication that they would have liked, but there are other medications to try. So, no insemination this week, but we'll start the whole cycle again soon. Grow, follicles! Grow!
I chanted "GROW, GROW, GROW!" to D's ovaries over the next couple days, thinking that maybe those little follicles were just confused or unmotivated and needed a pep rally. Well, no such luck. The second check revealed six follicles on one ovary, but none of the six were more than 9 mm. Apparently 18 mm. is the optimal size for insemination.
The good news is that Dr. Jaffe was utterly unfazed by this information and told D that there is absolutely nothing to worry about. D craftily asked the same question several times just to make sure:
"So there's nothing to be concerned about?"
"No, there's nothing to worry about."
"So, we shouldn't be worrying about anything then?"
"No, we'll just monitor things this month."
"So, we're just monitoring this month?"
I wonder if all patients do this weird parroting thing.
Since I didn't attend the second appointment, I came home from work armed with a gazillion questions even though D had given me a play by play on the phone while she was at the doctor's.
"So, she said that we shouldn't worry? Did you ask her specifically if there was anything wrong?"
Can you believe that this is what we've been reduced to? We used to have intelligent conversations in which we rarely repeated ourselves and now look at us!
Anyway, it seems that D's body just didn't have the response to the medication that they would have liked, but there are other medications to try. So, no insemination this week, but we'll start the whole cycle again soon. Grow, follicles! Grow!
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Doc Martin
Tuesday of this week, we had a consultation with Dr. Jaffe. Both D and I agree that Dr. Jaffe has a similar bedside manner to Doc Martin, which if you're unfamiliar with the show, means that she essentially doesn't have one. I find the fact that she doesn't sugarcoat anything oddly comforting though. I feel confident that since she hasn't driven us to tears(yet), that our prospects for pregnancy are good. Anyway, she did say that because D has a low ovarian reserve (this is based on AMA level; she has a .6 and .7 is preferred), she'd like to take an aggressive approach with us -- meaning that D will take ovulation inducing drugs and the doctor will monitor follicular growth through ultrasounds to determine the optimal time to inseminate. This was the first we heard of this low reserve, so we were pretty concerned, but Dr. Jaffe seemed unfazed. In fact, when D asked if that meant that this would be our only chance to have a child, she answered with an emphatic "No" but added that if we want a second, we shouldn't wait too long after the first. Our plan for the end of May / beginning of June will look like this:
1. D will call to schedule an ovary check on day one of her cycle.
2. The ultrasound ovary check will occur on days two or three.
3. If everything looks good, then D will be started on a five day regimen of
Letrozole (we chose this drug because it has less side effects and is less likely to produce multiples than the more popular and less expensive alternative Clomid).
4. On day eleven of her cycle, D will have another appointment for a follicle scan to see how her follicles have responded to the drug.
5. D will then be sent home with an injectable drug called Ovidrel to induce ovulation and be instructed to administer it on a particular day (based on the size of her follicles in the scan.)
6. Two days after the Ovidrel shot is administered, D will then be inseminated through an IUI procedure (this is where the concentrated or "washed" sperm is injected directly into the uterus.)
7. A week after the IUI, D will go in for a Progesterone check.
8. One week later, we'll either be excitedly buying pregnancy tests or waiting around for the next time we can try again.
It actually felt really good to finally order some of our donor specimens to be shipped from California Cryo to CRM -- it felt like the beginning of something. What's weird is I have almost begun to feel like my contact over there at California Cryo, Shawn, is an old friend since I've spoken with him so often about paperwork, medical authorization, etc. So when Shawn wished us "Good luck being Mommies!" before he hung up with me this last time, I couldn't help but smile.
D and I have been tossing around baby names for weeks now -- actually we've made about a zillion solid name decisions that we thought (at the time) were definites and (as would be expected) consequently reversed those decisions -- we already went through Sophie, Sophia, Isabel, Isabella, Jaden, Sebastien, and Skylar. Right now, we like Gracie and Hannah for a girl and Dylan and Jaxson for a boy. I'm partial to Gracie because my grandmother's first name began with a G, but I have a feeling we'll go through a few million more than this before delivery day.
I'm about halfway through She Looks Just Like You: A Memoir of (Nonbiological Lesbian) Motherhood by Amie Klempnauer Miller. It's not the greatest writing I've every seen, but it's certainly heartfelt (I teared up a few times and was thankful that I had my sunglasses on.) There are so few books about our experience! Perhaps if this all goes as planned, I'll write one. : )
1. D will call to schedule an ovary check on day one of her cycle.
2. The ultrasound ovary check will occur on days two or three.
3. If everything looks good, then D will be started on a five day regimen of
Letrozole (we chose this drug because it has less side effects and is less likely to produce multiples than the more popular and less expensive alternative Clomid).
4. On day eleven of her cycle, D will have another appointment for a follicle scan to see how her follicles have responded to the drug.
5. D will then be sent home with an injectable drug called Ovidrel to induce ovulation and be instructed to administer it on a particular day (based on the size of her follicles in the scan.)
6. Two days after the Ovidrel shot is administered, D will then be inseminated through an IUI procedure (this is where the concentrated or "washed" sperm is injected directly into the uterus.)
7. A week after the IUI, D will go in for a Progesterone check.
8. One week later, we'll either be excitedly buying pregnancy tests or waiting around for the next time we can try again.
It actually felt really good to finally order some of our donor specimens to be shipped from California Cryo to CRM -- it felt like the beginning of something. What's weird is I have almost begun to feel like my contact over there at California Cryo, Shawn, is an old friend since I've spoken with him so often about paperwork, medical authorization, etc. So when Shawn wished us "Good luck being Mommies!" before he hung up with me this last time, I couldn't help but smile.
D and I have been tossing around baby names for weeks now -- actually we've made about a zillion solid name decisions that we thought (at the time) were definites and (as would be expected) consequently reversed those decisions -- we already went through Sophie, Sophia, Isabel, Isabella, Jaden, Sebastien, and Skylar. Right now, we like Gracie and Hannah for a girl and Dylan and Jaxson for a boy. I'm partial to Gracie because my grandmother's first name began with a G, but I have a feeling we'll go through a few million more than this before delivery day.
I'm about halfway through She Looks Just Like You: A Memoir of (Nonbiological Lesbian) Motherhood by Amie Klempnauer Miller. It's not the greatest writing I've every seen, but it's certainly heartfelt (I teared up a few times and was thankful that I had my sunglasses on.) There are so few books about our experience! Perhaps if this all goes as planned, I'll write one. : )
Monday, May 10, 2010
All Clear for Take-Off
Last Monday we had our psychological evaluation with Dr. Ott at the Center for Reproductive Medicine (CRM). Each of us filled out about ten pages of paperwork prior to our consultation, answering questions about everything from our perceived self confidence levels to sleep habits. And when I say "everything," I actually do mean "everything." We had to rank our satisfaction levels with our sex lives and our relationship, so of course I demanded D tell me exactly what she wrote for everything (I doubt that was part of Dr. Ott's plan).
Dr. Ott was a warm and very friendly thirty something woman who had actually given birth to her daughter after going through IVF at CRM. Following her treatment, she decided to dedicate her practice to couples facing infertility issues so she opened the Mind and Body Program at CRM. I'm privy to this information because I of course researched her history before our appointment.
We waited only about ten minutes before Dr. Ott's blond head appeared through the opened door in the waiting room. "Which of you want to go first?" I immediately jumped up and D grumbled. I knew though that I'd likely have a coronary if I had to wait in the waiting room wondering what D was saying in there during her interview. I had tried to anticipate questions like I do for job interviews -- "Why do you want to have baby?" "Have you prepared a financial plan for a baby?" etc. But she didn't really ask anything like that. Instead, she read through my paperwork and asked some very specific questions about what I had written. For example, one of the questions in the paperwork was "What three things would you like to change about yourself?" And part of my answer involved developing better public speaking skills since my lymph nodes swell at even the thought of presenting in front of colleagues. She found this amusing with me being a teacher and we discussed that for a while. After about ten minutes, I felt myself relaxing. Then it was D's turn and I uncomfortably waited in the waiting room and entertained myself as best I could with my iphone -- feeding virtual fish in a virtual fish tank. About twenty minutes later, I was called back in so the two of us could speak with Dr. Ott together. She smiled warmly and announced, "I think you two make a great couple!" And with that my shell of nervousness finally melted into a puddle at my feet. She excitedly went on about how we'll make great mothers and how we balance each other's personalities really well. While D is calm and peaceful (and apparently has "a great aura" -- which of course made me wonder if my aura was the color of poo or something), I worry enough for the two of us (or three of us when the baby comes). We then went on to discuss places in the area that offer prenatal partner yoga and types of foods that cut down on morning sickness. For that, she recommended mint ice cream. So D and I walked out of there feeling great about ourselves, our relationship, and our motherhood prospects. In fact, in the car D mentioned that it felt like our relationship had finally been validated -- it was sort of like the first time that we'd been approved of by a third party (probably because we're gay and thus never get the public support that straight couples get.) Regardless, we both felt great and went to our favorite Thai restaurant afterward to celebrate.
We scheduled the HSG test (a test during which a dye is injected into the fallopian tubes to determine if they're open)for last week as well. For that, I have very little to say since I spent the majority of the time in the waiting room watching the television screen read "no satellite signal" and listening to the FL rainstorm raging outside. I also brought with me a Chilean coin a colleague and friend had brought back for me after one of his many adventures -- he had said that it'll bring me good luck. I've had it with me for every important appointment we've had so far and will likely be clutching it in my palm when D's inseminated and when she gives birth.
After D emerged from the closed door, she said "Everything is fine" and then ushered me toward the exit. I assumed (as is my nature) that something was wrong; otherwise she wouldn't want to wait to talk until we were in the car, but of course I worried for nothing. When we were finally in the car, she said both fallopian tubes were open and Dr. Jaffe had even remarked that her reproductive system made a "beautiful picture" -- not one we'd likely frame and put up in the living room, but that still sounded really great. D prodded Dr. Jaffe with as many questions as she could get in during the short minutes it took for the doctor to reach the door (it was really crowded at CRM that day and Dr. Jaffe had appointments back to back) -- Can we buy the sperm? Can we get pregnant? To which, Dr. Jaffe gave her the all clear. "Order the sperm. You can get pregnant!"
So, we've ordered the sperm from California Cryobank -- six vials of a "very handsome" musically-talented tall blond and blue eyed high-STA-scorer who sounds in his audio interview to be extremely intelligent and kind. And we have a consultation with Dr. Jaffe on Tuesday, D's Birthday, to discuss drugs to promote ovulation and to schedule our first insemination in June!
Everyone think happy pregnancy thoughts for us in June.
Dr. Ott was a warm and very friendly thirty something woman who had actually given birth to her daughter after going through IVF at CRM. Following her treatment, she decided to dedicate her practice to couples facing infertility issues so she opened the Mind and Body Program at CRM. I'm privy to this information because I of course researched her history before our appointment.
We waited only about ten minutes before Dr. Ott's blond head appeared through the opened door in the waiting room. "Which of you want to go first?" I immediately jumped up and D grumbled. I knew though that I'd likely have a coronary if I had to wait in the waiting room wondering what D was saying in there during her interview. I had tried to anticipate questions like I do for job interviews -- "Why do you want to have baby?" "Have you prepared a financial plan for a baby?" etc. But she didn't really ask anything like that. Instead, she read through my paperwork and asked some very specific questions about what I had written. For example, one of the questions in the paperwork was "What three things would you like to change about yourself?" And part of my answer involved developing better public speaking skills since my lymph nodes swell at even the thought of presenting in front of colleagues. She found this amusing with me being a teacher and we discussed that for a while. After about ten minutes, I felt myself relaxing. Then it was D's turn and I uncomfortably waited in the waiting room and entertained myself as best I could with my iphone -- feeding virtual fish in a virtual fish tank. About twenty minutes later, I was called back in so the two of us could speak with Dr. Ott together. She smiled warmly and announced, "I think you two make a great couple!" And with that my shell of nervousness finally melted into a puddle at my feet. She excitedly went on about how we'll make great mothers and how we balance each other's personalities really well. While D is calm and peaceful (and apparently has "a great aura" -- which of course made me wonder if my aura was the color of poo or something), I worry enough for the two of us (or three of us when the baby comes). We then went on to discuss places in the area that offer prenatal partner yoga and types of foods that cut down on morning sickness. For that, she recommended mint ice cream. So D and I walked out of there feeling great about ourselves, our relationship, and our motherhood prospects. In fact, in the car D mentioned that it felt like our relationship had finally been validated -- it was sort of like the first time that we'd been approved of by a third party (probably because we're gay and thus never get the public support that straight couples get.) Regardless, we both felt great and went to our favorite Thai restaurant afterward to celebrate.
We scheduled the HSG test (a test during which a dye is injected into the fallopian tubes to determine if they're open)for last week as well. For that, I have very little to say since I spent the majority of the time in the waiting room watching the television screen read "no satellite signal" and listening to the FL rainstorm raging outside. I also brought with me a Chilean coin a colleague and friend had brought back for me after one of his many adventures -- he had said that it'll bring me good luck. I've had it with me for every important appointment we've had so far and will likely be clutching it in my palm when D's inseminated and when she gives birth.
After D emerged from the closed door, she said "Everything is fine" and then ushered me toward the exit. I assumed (as is my nature) that something was wrong; otherwise she wouldn't want to wait to talk until we were in the car, but of course I worried for nothing. When we were finally in the car, she said both fallopian tubes were open and Dr. Jaffe had even remarked that her reproductive system made a "beautiful picture" -- not one we'd likely frame and put up in the living room, but that still sounded really great. D prodded Dr. Jaffe with as many questions as she could get in during the short minutes it took for the doctor to reach the door (it was really crowded at CRM that day and Dr. Jaffe had appointments back to back) -- Can we buy the sperm? Can we get pregnant? To which, Dr. Jaffe gave her the all clear. "Order the sperm. You can get pregnant!"
So, we've ordered the sperm from California Cryobank -- six vials of a "very handsome" musically-talented tall blond and blue eyed high-STA-scorer who sounds in his audio interview to be extremely intelligent and kind. And we have a consultation with Dr. Jaffe on Tuesday, D's Birthday, to discuss drugs to promote ovulation and to schedule our first insemination in June!
Everyone think happy pregnancy thoughts for us in June.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Our First Appointment
We had our first appointment at the Center for Reproductive Medicine in Lake Mary yesterday. We were referred there by a lesbian couple who, by the way, are now happily pregnant after only three inseminations (IUI's).
Both D and I were incredibly nervous, having no idea what to expect. As a result, we growled at each other the night before, the morning of, and even on the car ride there. I felt a little like I was waiting for a job interview as I turned magazine pages (not because I was actually reading anything but rather because it kept my hands busily occupied) in the waiting room. And I couldn't help but eye the couples, looking equally uncomfortable, sitting in the seats surrounding us. All the men seemed to have their eyes glued to the Nancy Grace sound-a-like prattling on about Tiger Woods and his many sexual faux pas. The women were busily reading leaflets and articles about financing IVF procedures. D and I, as is normal for us, stood out like a stain on white linoleum, but nobody seemed to notice -- a pleasant surprise. We were unusually early (that's because of me for those of you that don't know us) so we had plenty of time to read through magazines and grow more nervous.
When D and I were finally waiting in Dr. Jaffe's office, D said that she felt a like we were waiting to sign mortgage papers rather than waiting to discuss baby-making. Staring at the fake wood desk in front of me and the Rothko knock off paintings to my right and left, I had to agree.
We both really liked Dr. Jaffe. She was warm (as was the staff), extremely knowledgeable, and patient. And she apparently is a chocolate addict (we watched her steal ample chocolates from what appeared to be a nurse's box of candies in between appointments). I made a mental note to buy her chocolates if we ever get pregnant.
Our appointment began with first a nurse and then Dr. Jaffe firing a series of questions at D about her medical and sexual history, etc., while I tried to look like I was supposed to be there -- in other words, I very consciously nodded and smiled at what I thought were the appropriate times. D is so thoughtful that she turned to me several times to ask if I had any questions. I could tell she was making the gesture to try to include me, which made me love her all the more.
After the third degree, D was ushered into another room where Dr. Jaffe conducted an ultrasound examination of her reproductive organs. Although I was invited, I wasn't there at the time because D and I decided that it would be inappropriate for me to stay during the procedure. So I waited outside by the nurses' station where I ironically watched daughters accompany their mothers and male partners accompany their spouses or girlfriends into the various exam rooms. D told me after that Dr. Jaffe had mentioned something about a cyst and what might be a small fibroid, but "there was nothing to worry about." Of course we're worrying.
Then blood was drawn -- five or six vials. I asked if they left any for D, to which the vampire nurse smiled. The blood tests will determine hormone levels, etc., from which they can extrapolate information about D's ovulation and the quality of her eggs. We were handed a zillion pieces of literature on everything from the pros and cons of hormone treatment to the ins and outs of shopping at sperm banks (definitely not bedside reading). We were informed of the FDA requirement that we schedule a consult with a counselor -- some sort of psychiatric evaluation. We were also told to call the facility when D next gets her menstrual cycle (this should be in a few days), at which time they will schedule an HSG test (a dye test to see if her fallopian tubes are open). I never thought I'd be counting down the days to a fallopian tube test, but I am...
Hopefully, we'll have test results at our next appointment and know more definitively our chances for getting pregnant. Sorry about the unusually clinical nature of this posting, but I think I'm still recovering from handing boxes of Kleenex to teary-eyed apologetic eighteen-year-old plagiarists while still trying to retain my strict superintendent glare(ah, the last week of the semester -- what joy!).
Both D and I were incredibly nervous, having no idea what to expect. As a result, we growled at each other the night before, the morning of, and even on the car ride there. I felt a little like I was waiting for a job interview as I turned magazine pages (not because I was actually reading anything but rather because it kept my hands busily occupied) in the waiting room. And I couldn't help but eye the couples, looking equally uncomfortable, sitting in the seats surrounding us. All the men seemed to have their eyes glued to the Nancy Grace sound-a-like prattling on about Tiger Woods and his many sexual faux pas. The women were busily reading leaflets and articles about financing IVF procedures. D and I, as is normal for us, stood out like a stain on white linoleum, but nobody seemed to notice -- a pleasant surprise. We were unusually early (that's because of me for those of you that don't know us) so we had plenty of time to read through magazines and grow more nervous.
When D and I were finally waiting in Dr. Jaffe's office, D said that she felt a like we were waiting to sign mortgage papers rather than waiting to discuss baby-making. Staring at the fake wood desk in front of me and the Rothko knock off paintings to my right and left, I had to agree.
We both really liked Dr. Jaffe. She was warm (as was the staff), extremely knowledgeable, and patient. And she apparently is a chocolate addict (we watched her steal ample chocolates from what appeared to be a nurse's box of candies in between appointments). I made a mental note to buy her chocolates if we ever get pregnant.
Our appointment began with first a nurse and then Dr. Jaffe firing a series of questions at D about her medical and sexual history, etc., while I tried to look like I was supposed to be there -- in other words, I very consciously nodded and smiled at what I thought were the appropriate times. D is so thoughtful that she turned to me several times to ask if I had any questions. I could tell she was making the gesture to try to include me, which made me love her all the more.
After the third degree, D was ushered into another room where Dr. Jaffe conducted an ultrasound examination of her reproductive organs. Although I was invited, I wasn't there at the time because D and I decided that it would be inappropriate for me to stay during the procedure. So I waited outside by the nurses' station where I ironically watched daughters accompany their mothers and male partners accompany their spouses or girlfriends into the various exam rooms. D told me after that Dr. Jaffe had mentioned something about a cyst and what might be a small fibroid, but "there was nothing to worry about." Of course we're worrying.
Then blood was drawn -- five or six vials. I asked if they left any for D, to which the vampire nurse smiled. The blood tests will determine hormone levels, etc., from which they can extrapolate information about D's ovulation and the quality of her eggs. We were handed a zillion pieces of literature on everything from the pros and cons of hormone treatment to the ins and outs of shopping at sperm banks (definitely not bedside reading). We were informed of the FDA requirement that we schedule a consult with a counselor -- some sort of psychiatric evaluation. We were also told to call the facility when D next gets her menstrual cycle (this should be in a few days), at which time they will schedule an HSG test (a dye test to see if her fallopian tubes are open). I never thought I'd be counting down the days to a fallopian tube test, but I am...
Hopefully, we'll have test results at our next appointment and know more definitively our chances for getting pregnant. Sorry about the unusually clinical nature of this posting, but I think I'm still recovering from handing boxes of Kleenex to teary-eyed apologetic eighteen-year-old plagiarists while still trying to retain my strict superintendent glare(ah, the last week of the semester -- what joy!).
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