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A Case of the Ughs

Let the Ughs Begin...
 
Last week was an extremely difficult week for our family. A murder of a law enforcement officer shocked our family to the core. I didn't personally know the officer, but the hubs and those around me did. The realities and dangers of the hub's job hit like a freight train. It was far too close for easy deniability. Gone are the days of "it won't happen to us" or "those things don't happen here".  We got through the week together and stronger than ever.  There was a sense of ease in knowing that together we can get through even the toughest of trials. This was just more proof of that. It was an eye opening experience, but it allowed for open communication about our desires if something happened to one of us. When I say pull the plug and spread my ashes somewhere (guess I haven't quite worked the whole scenario out), I meant it.

The hits keep coming...
 
Right about now I am suppose to be nursing the hubs back to health after his PESA and jumping around with excitement about how many vials of sperm they were able to retrieve..yeah that's not happening. The Friday before our Monday morning surgery, the doctor called to reschedule our appointment due to a death in the family. Well we quickly got the procedure rescheduled.

Drum-roll please.......

Our new appointment is Friday the 13th. Yep that's right. It's a good thing I have zero superstition because that would be a seriously bad sign.  The hubs on the other hand is a little less jazzed about the change in date.  Although he's afraid of ghosts too so that's not saying much. 

We go for our IVF consultation on Thursday. We are hoping to narrow down our protocol and plead for an alternative to the progesterone in oil shot.  We get to be drained of more blood and tested for STDs we don't have. Overall it's going to be an exciting visit.


 

Pom Poms and Sweatpants

I was never a cheerleader in high school for one very good reason...I suck at faking enthusiasm and sincerity. I am an open book. When I am face-to-face with someone my facial expressions don't leave much to the imagination. I think that is one reason I love my job so much...no one can see the disbelieving eye roll over the phone. 

During the last few years I have happily removed some of the "toxics" from my life. You know the people I'm talking about...the Debbie Downers, the self-absorbed, the aggressive, the manipulative, and the down-right evil. People's lives evolve and their desires change and sometimes the thing connecting you to someone just isn't enough to maintain a bond.  That's ok. It's not my job to make you like me, or make you want to be my friend. Heck I don't even care if you talk behind my back. It just doesn't matter. I don't give a flying f@&) about those who don't care about me...and I will easily write you off. Too much wasted energy goes into maintaining superficial relationships that bring little or no joy, and in the coming months, as we prepare to expose ourselves to additional heartache I am thankful for the group of genuine and caring people who provide their words of encouragement.  

In the meantime...I have a plan...

1. I will be a more engaged mother.

Toot toot of my own horn...I am a pretty freaking good mom with a awesome kid. Luck? Maybe partially, but not completely. Are there areas I can improve? DEFINITELY! As some of you already know, I started working part-time from home in December and it has been a blessing for both mine and the hub's sanity. It has also allowed me to feel more like an involved mom to B-Ray...minus the initial rough patch when he'd get mad at me for taking him to school on time rather than early. We've since worked out that little snafu...little shit. Or the time he didn't want me to drop him off at school because "I looked like a disgrace". Apparently sweatpants are no cool mom approved apparel-or maybe it was the 4 day old messy ponytail. Being more involved includes deleting Facebook from my phone. Done. Putting the cell phone on the charger...upstairs...away from anywhere I can easily grab it. Done. And being in the now. Now if only I could put away Word Scramble.

2. I'm going to gain 10lbs.

Sounds easy right? Not so much. If a hamburger and ice cream accomplished this then I would be well on my way to overweight by now.

3. I'm going to focus on my mental health and meaningful relationships.

I recently deleted social media from my phone. This may have been the single best decision I have ever made. No more early morning Facebook checks or irritation that someone has failed to like a photo or comment. I mean how stupid has our society really become? We weigh relationships and satisfaction based on Facebook? Although I will admit...if you call my phone I will NOT answer. I hate the phone. I'm on it all day. I don't want small talk. Just text that shit otherwise you will just turn into another voicemail notification on my phone that I will never check.

4. I'm going to enjoy my beautiful disaster that I call life.

I'm going to have staycations with the hubs. I'm  going to take my dogs on a walk. I'm going to take b-ray roller skating and I'm going to sleep in. Why? BECAUSE I CAN! I'm going to appreciate the freedom that I have and not dwell on things I cannot change.

Who Needs Pregnancy Brain When You Have Infertility Brain

I have always been the "now where did I put my keys" type of girl, but lately I just can't get my shit
together.  I am a walking disaster. I drove an hour into work for a meeting that was the following week. Did I also mention that I forgot my laptop that was required for the training?  Focusing on the task at hand has been less than easy. 

We scheduled the hub's procedure for June 2nd...cue excitement! We even paid the portion that they'd allow us to in advance. Man that felt good. We are more than half way to our savings goal, but man its been rough.

Wanting to enjoy the last bit of baby free time...

I keep thinking that if all goes as planned and we are blessed with a baby, that I will soon have A LOT less free time.  I feel like I am in a rush to pack as much into this year as I can. (Cause apparently kids equates to a change in lifestyle-who woulda thought) Sooooo....girls trip to South Beach sounded like a good idea!

I am too old for that shit...

Although I would not take back any time I get to spend with "the twin", that trip just reaffirmed I can't hang like I used to. And I am ok with that.  I was lucky enough that it rained the first night since I had had a red-eye into Miami...bedtime at 10 in South Beach...yeah I'm cool like that.We stayed out until 5 am one night and I paid dearly. A full day of recovery by the pool and dinner was all I could muster. (I must say though...the food in Miami is to die for!!)  That being said, I have come to the realization I am ok with a little mellow time with the fam.

Now I am back home with a terrible cold that has pretty much rendered me useless.

10 DAYS TILL PESA...please let there be lots of sperm!

One more thing...

If your reading this one could assume you are going through something similar or you care about me enough to follow my blog...so can you take a few minutes and sign this petition...http://wh.gov/l7LVi 
PLEASE!

Can We Kick Them in the Naughty Bits?

The hubs and I went to the urologist yesterday for the follow-up before his PESA (think needle in the man junk). As expected all checked out and we get to schedule the procedure for June. The hubs and I left super excited and optimistic...and now it's a day later and a lot can happen in a day.

Where's our secret handshake?

As I've mentioned before, there is a secret society of the infertile. It's a society that no one expects or wants to be a part of, but it exists nonetheless.  By being a part of it, you often live through the pain of a failed IVF/IUI (turkey baster)/monthly cycle along with those experiencing it. When one of us fails it is a not so gentle reminder that none of this is guaranteed. We are putting our hearts, souls, and bodies out there with the possibility of devastation.  I understand why there are those who don't want to talk about it. There is a shame that comes along with the inability to procreate. Isn't that what we are suppose to be able to do? We want our own baby...made with our partner. It's a roller coaster of ups and downs. Some days you feel like it is just not worth it and hate the world and other days you'd do anything just to feel a baby growing inside of you. We sometimes wonder if we are bad people because we didn't jump into adoption or that we want to bring another life into this already overpopulated world. To be honest (and no I wasn't being dishonest before), I don't often find myself in any of those scenarios anymore.  Most days I am just trying to wrap myself around the "why" of it all.

What's trending in the news...and why I am not a horrible person

I go around in circles wondering why the hubs didn't develop his vas deferens, why did our first IVF not work, and why do people that should NEVER be parents have kids so easily?

In general society doesn't comprehend the inability to get pregnant. What they see are examples like the woman who gave birth to 7 babies then suffocated them and stuck them in a box in the garage meanwhile her husband rotted in jail. Then there is the mother who tried to do and exorcism and killed her 2 children.  How about the mother who drove into the ocean with her children in the minivan...did I mention she was pregnant?  Extreme examples...I know, but I can look on any news site on any given day and find examples of horrifying parenting that makes you want to kick these people in the naughty bits. Where am I going with this?

There are people in this world that should not have kids (IMHO), but often times they do. This leads to far too many neglected, abused, and unwanted children in the world. The consensus in society is that all the infertile should rush to save these children (and often times we start to believe it). While this is noble in the simplest form, it is so much more complicated than that.  Yes, most infertile couples have at some point considered adoption but at what expense? Again, you are being to forced to open up all aspects of your life and let someone determine if you are a fit parent. Really? And who gets to make that decision? What about the cost of adoption? Unless you are adopting from the foster care system, you can bet your ass that adopting a healthy infant/toddler comes at a huge price and a long wait. The financial and emotional toll is no less daunting than infertility treatments.

All of that leads us back to the same fact...if you are infertile...you have to buy a baby.

My heart breaks for all of those children who are neglected, scared, and alone. My heart also breaks for the men and women who continue go through the heartbreak of reproductive failure. Although, adoption is not an option I want to explore at the moment, I hope that should I come to a the crossroad of a life without another child or adoption, that I would chose the latter.

Did You Miss Me?

Well here I am again....I am sure you were all sitting on the edge of you seats in anticipation of my return.

In case you were not aware this week is National Infertility Awareness Week. (I think there may be a week/day/month for just about everything that you can think of). I don't usually put much thought into these "special days", except for the fact that National Sibling Day fell on my sister's and my 30th birthday, but this one hits home a lot more than most.

Like any other medical issue, there are groups of people that are passionate about infertility. In my own world I would like to think that I am passionate about MY infertility, but all of a sudden that just doesn't feel like enough.  I struggle with the fact that I pay for my medical insurance like everyone else (okay a slight overstatement) and that my husband has a diagnosed medical issue, but conceiving is elective and therefore not covered. Listen here insurance company...I pay for freaking maternity care....why the hell can't you help pay for me to use it!?  This is not right...it's not okay...and it should be changed.

I have accepted the fact that this may not ever be changed in my childbearing years, so the hubs and I have opted to save...and save...and save. The way it's going it feels like we won't save enough before my childbearing years come to an end. (Kidding-sort of). We've decided that this is what we want. Now I don't believe that everyone should get what the "want", but I do hope that the odds are in our favor.  I waiver on occasion at the thought of spending more than $15,000.00 and having 50% odds of getting anything in return.  That's a horrible investment right? Wrong. We'll take our chances.

In June the hubs is going to undergo his swimmer excavation for a final time. The doctor is confident that we will be able to retrieve enough for 4 cycles (yeah right cause that's ever gonna happen).

Then we wait....

Well I don't wait...I google the shit out of the internet. Acupuncture, diets, exercise, supplements.

At some point Google will probably give me the screen of death, tell me I am insane, then send the authorities to put me in a padded room, but any sane person would do the same...

In all seriousness though-I pledge that I will not go "IVF Cray Cray". I will stay sane and know that "everything happens for a reason". Now I understand the good intentions that come with this statement.

Thank you for everyones support...and remember-before you ask someone about anyones baby making plans, know that there may be a lot more to their story.

Ungentle Coaxing

So over the last couple of months people have cautiously asked us how we are doing. Most are unsure if they should approach us and how they should approach us. What's the right amount of time? Is it too soon? Is she going to burst into tears? Well my philosophy is slightly different than the hubs. I say bring it on...the hubs is a little more timid in his responses.

I rebounded from my devastation more quickly than most. First, because I tested everyday straight for a week. Why not be prepared for the worst? Second, I knew it was not guaranteed, and despite my distain for the phrase "everything happens for a reason" I was able to find my silver lining. I also found a "pen pal" who gave me a whole lot of perspective. Or email pal in our current era. Lastly, the hubs (after A LOT of coaxing) finally started talking to me everything he was thinking and feeling.

Not so subtle nudge...

I got the voicemail from the doctor's office the Tuesday following my blood test. I did not listen to it until Thursday. What was the point? I already had the reminder with the shedding of my peach. Now that it was "official" it was time for plan b. Was I suppose to mourn a pregnancy that never existed? I was ready to make a decision RIGHT NOW. It had been a week. It was time to move on to our other options. I tried it the hub's way now it was time for my way and the hubs just needed to accept it. I am a spoiled rotten selfish f%$*ing brat. I told the hubs I refused to try this again and we needed to explore the option of a sperm donor. (The hubs was having NONE of that). I was angry, discouraged and resentful.

Fastforward 2 months...

In time the hubs started talking pretty freely about his feelings once I became a little less closed minded. I agreed to one more try at in vitro (because I am oh so excited to be stabbed with needles again and feel like poo) and the hubs agreed that if it did not work and there was nothing left to freeze then he'd be open to a donor.

We went for a consultation with a new doctor and holy crap what a difference. I had so many questions and she had so many answers. The hubs sat beside me looking like a deer in headlights (come to find out he couldn't understand a word she was saying). She put me through some more tests. When a doctor tells you you are going to go through the "less painful" procedure that just means it's still gonna hurt like hell. The doctor not so gently reminded me that I almost died with my last pregnancy and I laughed. The hubs was not laughing. I still have a hard time agreeing with people when they say that to me and what can I say...I laugh when I am uncomfortable. The doctor refused to even consider the process until I saw a perinatologist. Oddly that appointment left me feeling uneasy and the hubs feeling reassured...go figure. The perinatologist gave us the green light, but bringing up surrogacy in passing. Are you f&^%ing kidding me?

The hubs was referred to a new urologist and lets face it this doctor was also worlds different then our last one. For the first time I am incredibly optimistic.

Originally we planned to move forward again in July (and with a baby fund donation from a family member we probably could have made it happen), but anxiety kicked my ass and we decided it may be better to wait till January. It's going to be a long penny pinching year...

The Art of Nagging

The more I nag the more likely he is to agree with me...

Man, if only that was a true statement, but lets face it, I am not a stupid person. Nagging has never worked in this lifetime or any before it. People nag me at work...they go to the back of the pile. B-ray nags me at home and I pretend I don't hear him. If there is no blood or bones sticking out then it just isn't that important. I nag the hubs about baby-making and the hermit goes back in his shell...hence nagging unsuccessful.

Well it's a good thing I'm a smarty pants...

So having established that nagging doesn't work (this was not a recent epiphany), I developed a fail proof method. Don't nag. If you are starting to nag or think you are going to nag then STOP. Lack of words says volumes more than "yap yap yap". Because let's be real...that's what a hubs hears. I have mastered the cold shoulder...well it's more icy than cold. In the past couple weeks the hubs has felt the arctic chill more than once, but not because I was mad (well maybe a little). I became so annoyed with trying unsuccessfully to have rational conversation with him about our "options" that I just plain gave up.

So meanwhile I internally weigh my options...

1.) Be satisfied with life as I know it
2.) Sperm donor
3.) Adoption
4.) Try again in the U.S.
5.) Drive myself batty weighing options  

A New Day and a New Outlook

Man my previous posts were sort of depressing.

I don't have a lot of snarky comments today which is new for me. It's kind of cool because I've had just the right amount of "I'm so sorry" and hugs. I haven't had a lot of "it just wasn't meant to be" or "everything happens for a reason". 

I drank a bottle of champagne...

I can't really say this was an entirely good idea since it set off a chain reaction of anxiety attack and vomiting. I slept on the bathroom floor for awhile and downed some pedialite. I woke up with a raging headache, but nothing a little Advil couldn't cure. Seeing me down a bottle of alcohol resulted in the hubs first real acknowledgment that we were out of the game.

Why won't he just freaking talk to me??

For those of you who know the hubs, I can guarantee that none would disagree that he is a seriously sentimental and mushy man. Well, for all that mushiness and sensitivity, he sure is a stinky communicator (or maybe I am just super pushy and impatient). I am a horrible communicator, but for some reason it just makes me feel better to talk about it (except at work when people catch me off guard with unexpected questions). I want to talk about "what's next", "what if", "why", and "when". The hubs just wants to snuggle.
Geez-I am not only a horrible snuggler, but I cannot sit somewhere and be lost in my own thoughts right now. I try to talk to the hubs and I just get one word answers in his rare lucid moments. I want/need more than "we will figure it out". I've had a few people put me in my place (which for me is sometimes needed). I just hope that the hubs doesn't make me wait for ever before he's ready to open up.  At least I got him to agree to talk with someone here about all our options-now if we can both just keep an open mind.

Feeling more normal than yesterday.

Today is the first day I feel "normal". I am hoping I feel a little more normal and a little less numb each day.  I'm attempting to avoid becoming that "deranged fertility obsessed lady". Some moments I am successful (in my opinion-which is the only opinion that matters).  Minus my date with a bottle of champagne, I had a very enjoyable weekend with the in-laws.  I've bored my sister to death with my constant ramblings (what a trooper she is) and I am going to remind her of the Louis Vuitton she offered to buy me. When you're sister is not comfortable with "baby talk" it helps that she wants to buy stuff to shut you up.

Retail Therapy

Negative. We will be ok. Not now-but eventually. Looking for the silver-lining. 

If you see me...don't bring it up. You will feel completely uncomfortable by my sudden sobbing.

I'm not sure that retail therapy can soothe this heartache, but I'm sure gonna try. Hubs bought some Cardinals gloves for "winter" and I didn't even flinch. I must have hit bottom. Love you all.

This Public Service Announcement Brought to You By One Deeply Emotionally Unhinged Woman

She's Come Undone...

I've learned that throughout this process as much as I didn't want to be apart of the Secret Society of Infertility, it has at least provided me some comfort in knowing that there are others who can empathize with my situation. I appreciate the words of sympathy and encouragement from others. I know that people love us and care for us and want this to work for us. I know that those close of us want to reduce our pain, but that being said...it does not stop me from becoming a stark, raving, lunatic. I am a mad woman. On Friday (today-since I never posted my original until now) I need someone to be prepped with a padded room and straightjacket.

My co-worker pointed out to me that maybe I failed to admit to myself how much I really wanted this as I was sobbing at her desk the other day. This was not the cute sort of crying. This was the crumpled face, snotty, heavy breathing kind of sobbing. FML. She actually was sort of right and sort of wrong. I admitted to myself how much I wanted this and hoped in secret, but never had I admitted to anyone else my secret desire. Now I can't hold back...it is more than apparent how much I wanted this to work. I know I have to wait for the "official test" results, but I can't put my faith in something that in my rational mind seems so unlikely. I could pray for a miracle, but it might be a little late to start praying now-besides God probably is not overly concerned with my fertility. I have thought about what we would do when we had an answer one way or another and I considered many options: 1.) Lock myself in my room all weekend and come out refreshed and ready to conquer life. 2.) Sit in my car and cry until I can cry no more. 3.) Pretend I am ok and go about life as I know it.

Since my sister in law will be in town this weekend I will have to go with Option 3. It's gonna be a "baby-centric" weekend which is a little bit discouraging. I have been waiting for my period to rear her ugly head for a few days now. The cramping is such a splendid precursor to my already dreaded weekend. I have been really shitty at pretending I give a damn this week so I am hoping that my bright sunshiney personality will shine through. If not then apologies to the fam.

Last night I went out with some friends as a last hoorah before one of them moves away. Let me just be honest, despite the hub's protest, I enjoyed some champagne. I needed that, but not because I'm an alcoholic or anything.  I have resigned myself to the inevitable. If I am wrong, it will be the happiest wrong I have ever been. It would be one of the few times I would actually have to admit that I was wrong.

I Am Woman Hear Me Roar

Oh man-had I only known...

The fertility world calls this period the dreaded two week wait (2ww) for good reason. It f$&?ing sucks. Today was the first day I cried. I cried not once-not twice but three times and it's only 1 pm. I think this is pretty good considering it is the first time.

Today I am 9dp3dt (9 days past 3 day transfer). I'm not going to lie but I took some hpts (home pregnancy tests) Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday...all with the same dreaded results. Then yesterday I instructed the hubs to hide all the tests. Now I must wait (or lie to the hubs and go buy a test using my credit card).

I know I know...

It's still early. I won't know until Friday. Stay positive. It's not too late. Etc. etc. 

Yeah that just doesn't work for me. Last time I didn't prepare for the worst I was kicked in the gut and knocked breathless. That won't happen again.  I'd rather have everyone be able to say "I told you so and be shocked for good reason instead of a bad one.

Something to lift the spirits...

Yesterday I read an article about a drunk mom who killed her baby while breastfeeding. I want to kick that lady so hard in her peach that she can never have kids again. Did I mention that a year prior her other daughter was brought in to the hospital with fractured ribs? Yeah that sure brightened my mood. Today B-ray read his school book Arthur's Bad News Day. I'm happy to report that the book was about Arthur's parents telling him he was going to have a baby sister. B-ray wants one too. Surprise surprise.  

Today sucks...the end.

TMI But I Have to Tinkle

I am not quite sure where I left off on my last post, and honestly I am too lazy to go and check (I am going to blame it on the hormones-from now on everything is because of the hormones).

By October 24th, the day of our egg retrieval, I felt a little like my ovaries may potentially explode and tinkling became extremely unpleasant. We were up to 2 shots a day and you can only imagine how excited I was about that. As excited as the hubs is when I tell him he has to make room in man cave for the triplets. We arrived for our retrieval/sperm aspiration at 9:30 and were taken in to a nice little room with a recliner where the hubs was told to change. The hubs was a nervous wreck. I am not good with pep talks-I'm a tough love kind of gal, but I did my best to distract the hubs by taking a bunch of horribly depressing pictures.The hubs was given his iv and wheeled out for his procedure. I patiently read my book in the recliner. Before I knew it the hubs was being wheeled back in saying....you guessed it..."I feel drunk right now". He has oddly forgotten that this occurred, but I have happily reminded him. The doctor informed me that they were indeed able to find usable semi-swimmers in the epididymis and did not have to dig into the testicles. I was then asked to change and brought in to my own room. This part was one of the few parts that I was very unimpressed with. The girl that was to give me the iv went back and forth from arm to arm trying to find a usable vein. She tried once (very painfully) without success and left the room returning to tell me that the anesthesiologist would put in the iv. Once I got into the creepy sterile white room with lots of lights the doctor tried 2 more times and was successful on the second attempt. He told me I'd feel dizzy and then I was out.

The doctor ended up retrieving 10 follicles with 9 mature eggs and five fertilized. Not great numbers but not bad. Now to wait. Our transfer was scheduled for Sunday morning (also the day we flew back home).

Friday and Saturday were pretty uneventful days for us. The hubs was definitely not as sore as he was with his first biopsy, but still the coconuts were mighty tender. Oh wait, I lied. Friday was eventful. Friday was the first day for our shot in the bum. The shot was a progesterone shot which is mixed in oil.  Let me remind you all that oil is thick and thick requires a wide/long needle. My two fatal errors on Friday: looking at the needle and YouTubing how to give the shot. Both extremely stupid decisions. I refused to let the hubs give me the shot. I was certain it was not necessary and that we would be ok without it. I burst into tears and snot rolled down my face. I was in full on tantrum mode. The hubs was speechless. I honestly think he had no idea what to do. Should he pin me down? Not give it to me? Once I was done hyperventilating, I made the hubs call his mom on Skype. I took three shots of tequila and talked to the MIL while the hubs stabbed me in the butt cheek with a ginormous needle. It is almost a week later and my bum is still sore.

On Sunday it was officially the day. After this day I would be pregnant until proven otherwise (PUPO is the fertility lingo). The doctor advised me to arrive with a full bladder. Note to self-full bladder does not mean drinking 32 oz of water. We arrived at 8:30 am and by 9:00 I was begging the hubs to ask the nurse if I can pee "just a little". The nurse told me I could pee, but only "a little bit". Who were we kidding-who tinkles only a little? Now folks this is where there is some (a lot) of TMI. I went into the bathroom ready to tinkle and who would have thunk it but of course I have to go number 2. I dare you to try not tinkling and pooping at the same time. And moving on. I came out and my sweet dear hubs thinks I need more water, so because I am such an obedient wife I complied, all the while my bladder had already filled back up from the prior 32 oz of water.

They came to wheel me in for my transfer and I was in panic mode. I nearly had a meltdown. I have never had to pee so bad in my life and now they were going to stick an alligator clip up my peach. I am guessing the tossing, turning, hand over my eyes, near tears and looking for places to escape cued my doctor in to my discomfort because he offered me a catheter to relieve some discomfort. I have never been so relieved to have a tube up my tinkle hole in my entire life!  Once all was better and I was not worried I'd pee on my doctors hand I enjoyed the miracle of what they were about to do.

The doctor transferred 3 embryos. Trust me I thought it was a lot too, but one was sort of the runt of the litter and would have been discarded. The hubs watched the transfer on the monitor in another room. The process was easy and painless (minus the minor glitch). They wheeled me back into the room where my hubs was waiting and we had a brief holy crap moment then we were headed back to our hotel then off to the airport!

Mexican Godzilla and Huveos

Well if you haven't guessed we are still in Mexico. 

We have been here a total of 11 days so far and overall it's been a great time, but it's safe to say that I officially feel like crap. I think my ovaries may explode which unfortunately in this situation is probably a good thing.

I took 10 days of stimulation medicine which was a little rough, but minus some minor anxiety attacks and some bleeding and burning pain, we are almost done. I apparently am a somewhat slow responder which stinks because an extra $700 in medication is no bueno, but on the bright side in the states it would have easily been twice as much. We were slightly irritated to discover that our FSA accounts did work down here and the office manager charged the wrong amount so the hub's card didn't work. Now we have to wait to be reimbursed-again no bueno. Tomorrow we have one more shot to keep me from releasing one of my developing eggs then at 10:30 pm we do the "trigger shot". I can't say I completely understand this shot, but timing is crucial. Then Thursday morning is the moment of truth. We will finally see how many eggs my slow responding body produced.

Suffering in paradise...

The hubs is super excited to have a needle jammed into his testicles for the retrieval of his little swimmers. The hubs can't seem to understand why I have zero sympathy for him. Everyday for the last 10 days, sometimes twice a day, I have a shot in my stomach. Then if that wasn't fun enough, I get to have an internal ultrasound (that means they stick a wand up my peach) every other day. Yeah sympathy just isn't going to happen. The doctor told the hubs they would try to take the swimmers from the epididymis instead of the testicles which would be far less invasive for my wussy man. Needless to say, we are hoping that they can do this because not only will I have to listen to less whining, but the swimmers are more like a five year old with arm floaties instead of a newborn sinking to the bottom of the pool.

Entertainment in paradise...

We moved to an all-inclusive hotel for the last nine days of our trip which has been relatively stress free. They have 24 hour room service and unlimited champagne and bloody Mary's. I discovered that not only does snorkling make me sick when I'm hungover, but it also makes me want to vomit when I'm not. The hubs was thoroughly disappointed. Since snorkling was a no go for me, the hubs bought a snorkel and goggles and went out on his own adventure while I downed some bloody Mary's and read my second book on the beach.

Because there are only so many rocks I can stand to stare at for a period of time, the hubs and I decided not to go on one of the all day trips to the ruins. Instead, we went to El Rey which was a smaller site with an extremely large amount of Mexican Godzilla (iguanas). I don't like iguanas and I have no desire to feed them ever again. I stepped out of my comfort zone and threw some banana pieces to the iguanas who started biting each other like assholes. Then I threw a few more pieces and apparently that was not sufficient for one of them because it started running in my direction (with no fear I might add). I wasted no time and ran in the opposite direction screaming, and that jackwad kept coming. I threw the entire banana down and the beast took the banana and ran away. For the rest of the day I went nowhere near the Mexican Godzilla.

Now we have three more days before our retrieval and I am hoping that I can pull off the pregnant look because right now I can pass for a pregnant woman with the bloated belly and waddle-or maybe I will just hide out in my hotel room. Either way keeps us in your thoughts as we hope for the best!

The Journey Begins

On Wednesday night I spent the last little bit of time I had with B until his dad came and picked him up. Then I cried myself to sleep on the couch and slept with my puppies. The hubs slept up stairs with the cats...I am sure you can tell whose pets are whose.

Thursday morning I was up not so bright eyed and not so bushy tailed at 4 am. I cried some more. Geez it was hard leaving B-ray and the pups behind. My body was pretty much right on schedule. That just means that I get to start my vacation on my period-bummer. Our flight was uneventful-although my wussy hubby would say it was a "rough ride". One day he's got to man up with this whole flying thing-he's totally losing the man card he has left. We got to Mexico at 2:50 and had to high tail it through the airport to get to the doctors office by 4 pm. This was not my ideal scenario, but a minor glitch in scheduling and we were forced into a time crunch. We made it through immigration quickly and on to customs. (Red light....Green light) I prayed for green because going through five bags was going to be torturous. Green it was-phew! We got to the doctors where we were greeted by two extremely warm and inviting office staff. The office was modern and clean. The doctor performed an ultrasound and I was given the green light to start my meds the following day.  I was relieved to find out we only had to take one shot a day.

Our transportation arrived and we were finally on the way to our hotel!!

Impatiently waiting...

We arrived at the Marriott after a somewhat white knuckled taxi ride. BofA had put a flag on our card even after we called and told them we'd be in Mexico. After an agonizing phone call with the idiot they call a customer service rep, we got our keys and rushed eagerly to our room. By this point the hubs and I were wound up so tight from stress, anxiety and excitement that all we could manage was to eat dinner and pass out.

Day 2

The hubs and I both slept surprisingly well then spent most of our second day getting scorched by the ocean then by the pool.  I read my book and enjoyed a drink while the hubs read his "book" (I'd call it a children's picture book) and got giddy over his iguana colada. We had an amazing late lunch/early dinner at an oceanfront seafood restaurant. Then back to our hotel room to confront my worst nightmare. 

My worst nightmare...

I told the hubs about this magical trick a nurse had once done. When I was hyper ventilating she thumped me kind of hard in one place and stuck the needle in another...it was amazing. I was more focused on the thump then the needle. After two glasses of wine and a shot of tequila I was still no where near ready for this, but the hubs pulled it off! It was over...yeah well for the night anyways.

Day 3

On day three we enjoyed the hotel fitness center, the breakfast buffet (good thing we got this included in our stay because $50 a day for breakfast would have been a little much), then we grabbed a cab to one of the local shopping centers. We took a shot of tequila as we were shopping in one of the markets. The hubs takes a shot like a wuss. We ate lunch with dolphins swimming below us, iguanas walking past us and a band singing in front of us. The hubs had some disgusting looking shrimp, octopus, squid mixture which he inhaled. I took a safer route with some amazing shrimp. Then off for round two of me against the needle. Again, not as bad as I imagine in my head, but it definitely burns a little more when I only have one shot of tequila. 

The hubs had been watching the turtle sanctuary area all day.  Kudos to the hubs because we were able to send a brand new baby turtle to its new home in the ocean...which even I can admit is pretty cool. And those baby turtles are ADORABLE.  I named mine Little Guy. He was way faster than the hub's turtle. 

Day 4

We are becoming pros in Cancun. We got smart after talking to the concierge and made our way by city bus to the ferry for Isla Mujeres. It was an amazing day. We rented a golf cart and rode around the city. The hubs can finally leave me alone about the turtles. He has now seen more turtles than most people have seen in a lifetime. 

Day 5

It is the 5th day and this will be the the first time we head back to the doctor's office. Our patient facilitator will be picking us up at 9:30 to take us to the doctor for some bloodwork then I plan on another day of relaxation in paradise.

Prepping the Mind, Women Bits, and Soul

I am writing this post at 1:30 am in hopes that I will bore myself to sleep, but all I can think is holy crap-in 2 days we are taking a four hour flight that could lead to a huge change in our lives.

Prepping for the end of the world...

My suitcase has been essentially packed for a week now-which considering what a basket case I am going to be on Wednesday night this is probably a really good thing. I might as well stock up on guns and ammo cause I have enough stuff for the end of the world. I'm really thankful that we are going somewhere warm because swimsuits take up a lot less room than a parka.

I've had little to no sleep since Friday. For those of you who don't know that is now 4 nights ago.  Most people would probably assume I have a case of anxiety, although I continue to argue that point, because for whatever reason I cannot admit to that. Instead, I lay here staring at the humidifier I have set up next to my bed and blame this wretched cold I have been blessed with as an added vacation bonus. As if making a baby won't be hard enough-I get to fight against cracked nostrils, cold sores and sinus pressure that knocks me on my ass. Yippee!

So needless to say my mind is rebelling, my body is rebelling, but at least my soul is pretty well in tact.

A little food for the soul...

We had a "fairwell" dinner at my parent's house on Saturday night for our "get knocked up vacation". One thing I know for sure is my parents are pretty amazing. Each of them in their own unique way has been encouraging and supportive. My mom (who would fully admit she is not the most sentimental) surprised me when she pulled me aside and gave me a beautiful card and an even more beautiful necklace. I've come to think if it as my new good luck charm. She knows I'm anxious/nervous and won't admit it...curse the "mom intuition". My dad/Grandpa Baldy, well let's just say he coined the phrase "knocked up vacation". A little humor goes a long way.

My souls on a roll...the sappy, heartfelt, and emotional (with a touch of snarky) shout out-

I wanted to take an opportunity to again thank all those who have been supportive through this whole roller coaster. To the boss who has been more than generous in giving me this time off and not accepting that "it's not going to work as a response", to my coworkers who listen to my emotional mood swings and relentless talking about this, to the cousin who has agreed to stay at our animal farm, to the friends who are so excited for us and eagerly watch our journey, to the friends who were so generous in offering to board our dogs just because they are amazingly good people, to the family members who worry about us and care about us, to the neighbors who are just plain awesome and know what we are going through, to my sister for being so believable in pretending she cares (totally joking Bean), and to B (even though you don't really have a clue what's going on) for reminding me every day how amazing you are and why I am doing this. THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. Lastly, to the hubs, I love you...and would you finish packing already! (No seriously-throwing a pile of clothes in a bag and waiting for me to sort through and fold them is not packing)

Next up...."Adventures in In Vito Fertilization"

The Things You Think But Do Not Say

Let me just preface this post by saying that the shit that stays in my brain is f%=#ed up. For those of you that already think I lack a filter-you have no idea. I am not saying that I am always a horrible person. I do have a very sweet, nurturing, and dedicated side. I'd like to think the hubs and B-ray see it more often than not. But be warned, if you have ever asked me what I am thinking and I say "nothing" then I am LYING.

Our trip is closing in on 9 days and the hubs and I are getting excited. I am not sure if I am more excited for the vacation or the possible outcome. I regulary ask the hubs if he is sure that he wants to do this. Not because I don't want to, but because I really don't think he has any idea what he's in for. Right now we have a walking, talking, wipe his own ass, use the toaster and microwave type of kid. We have a built in babysitter for half of the week.   I truly believe that I will be punished with my next child because the one I got in the first go around is in no way your typical kid. If I am blessed with another amazing child it is only because I did something really nice in a past life.

Oh the things I think but do not say...

Confession #1

I am terrified the hubs is going to drive me crazy if this actually work. I suggested to the hubs the other day that we choose a "safe word"-a word that says "if you ask me if I'm okay again I will rip your head off and throw it in th Ninja blender". The hubs was not keen on the idea. Actually, I think he may have been slightly irritated with me. To some this may seem like a stupid complaint, but if I don't feel good I just want to be left alone. If I want something then I will whimper, whine and complain at that time. The hubs suggested he answer with a "get it yourself woman" or something to that effect....I was not keen on that.

The hubs has a tendency to make sure I don't need anything or that I still feel sick every 5 minutes-how sweet I know, but let me be honest...I am a bitchy sick person. Sorry hubs-spooning is off the table.

The prospect of a high-risk pregnancy has me preparing for end times. I need a padded room, ear plugs, the Ninja Blender, and an arsenal of darts. One day I may learn to just let the hubs take care of me.

Confession #2

I am annoyed by "parenting methods". When did parenting become so difficult? Attachment parenting, baby wise parenting, and free-range parenting (because our kids are chickens now) are just a few of the methods that have been established to make me feel unqualified for motherhood. Kudos to the moms or moms-to-be who have the time to research all these methods and decide which one is best for your child in the womb.

I winged it with B-ray. I figured he needed food, a clean ass, and love. Let me just say that B is a child not lacking in the love department. I let him "cry it out" on occasion holy crap that is a parenting method now too apparently. Oh and he fell off the bed a couple times. I felt bad for a moment but we moved on with life. B has had stitches, a glued eye, endless supplies of bruises and road rash. To teach him to swim, I let him sink. Don't get your panties in a twist...I was in the pool with him. I dropped B off at daycare and didn't worry about him all day. I didn't linger and stare through the window and come to think of it B never had a meltdown going to school. He never clinged to my pants, screamed, and cried. I guess the love was one-sided. I just don't get it. No offense to the parenting styles; I just prefer the no rules method. 

The Waiting Game...

This part of our adventure is by far the hardest.  We don't know what to expect, we aren't sure how excited we should be, and the days are passing slowly. I am a workaholic and can't stand the thought of leaving stuff unfinished so I am putting in long days. Every day I am confident the hubs wants to scream and yell at me for living at work. I am actually surprised he has not put a sleeping bag in my car yet. I am feeling sad at the thought of leaving B for so long. I am worried that all we are going to end up with is a nice long vacation and a whole bunch of Pinterest posts that I will never be able to use. The what-ifs are daunting to say the least.

Tequila Shot of Reality

Our trip to Cancun is booked for October 10, 2013. We get to spend 18 semi-relaxing days in Cancun under the care of Fertility Center Cancun. The hubs wants this to be like a honeymoon meanwhile I think of it as more of a babymoon without the foreplay. There is something about the trip that just doesn't scream romance...unless the hubs injecting me in the stomach with massive amounts of hormones somehow just became super sexy. Note to self: make a conscience effort to add some additional belly fat for something to grab on to and stock up on tequila to calm the nerves. Once we booked the trip the anxiety started flooding my brain in an overwhelming manner. What if we have twins-or worse triplets? How much is everything going to cost? I have a child that wipes his own butt and makes it to the toilet to vomit-why do I want to start over? What if what happened last time happens again? 

Am I allowed to do a flashback in a flashback?

One could say that my last pregnancy did not go quite as planned. Now this story is not for those with weak stomachs.  At 30 weeks and 6 days I went in for a routine appointment. I deposited "my sample" into the cup and was ushered into my room to wait. The doctor came in to take my blood pressure. Confusion could be seen all over her face....she told me to lay down and she'd come back to recheck it. She came back-she mumbled something about protein in my urine as she rechecked my blood pressure. She then told me that I needed to leave the office drive myself across the street and check in to the hospital for monitoring. I asked her if I could run home first. If she was going to make me sit in a hospital I was going to at least have some socks (oh and B-rays dad). She told me no. Me listen-ha that's hilarious. I picked up my socks and "the dad" and went to the hospital. Every hour they checked my blood pressure while I waited impatiently. Finally they put me in a room. Is it just me, or are they REALLY vague at hospitals? The doctor came in and gracefully told me that I was going to take my first helicopter ride oh and get my first catheter. Then she told me not to expect to leave the hospital in 1 piece.  What the hell was that suppose to mean and why was it the catheter that made me cry?

I was air lifted to Banner Good Samaritan (worst hospital of all time).  I was put on magnesium sulfate (worst drug of all time) and poked with needles every hour. Those 2 days were a blur. I can honestly say that whatever forms they had me sign could have easily been fought in court since I was nowhere near lucid enough to sign them. On day two I was told that they would take me in for an emergency c-section in the morning when my blood platelets arrive. Google Class 1 HELLP. Well-doctors lie...at about 10:30 pm they were wheeling me into the operating room. Holy crap that is scarier than one could ever imagine. I came to at some point a day later to discover I no longer had a butt because my back swelling had consumed it. I couldn't see because my face had swelled up so bad. I had a long tube with a bubble attached coming out of my abdomen. I wouldn't wish that look on my worst enemy. 2 days after baby boy was pulled from my uterus at 2 lbs 15 oz I went to meet him in the NICU with my sister who refused to see him until I did.  Not sure what I did to deserve such an awesome sister-although I still do NOT want twin girls.  B-ray was doing well considering. I on the other hand was not at my prime. I went in for another surgery to have all the blood clots removed from my incision and was left to heal from the inside out. They even gave me this cool purse/vacuum to suck all the extra stuff out.  12 days after being admitted I was allowed to go home empty handed. The home nurse came for awhile, but soon I was on my own. Those were some extremely depressing times.  

Am I out of my freaking mind???

Why would I want to tempt fate again? I NEVER again want to leave a hospital without the child I carried, yet I am embarking on a process that could very likely put me in that position again. Boy that is a gloomy thought. 

But it was all worth it in the end....
Now that our trip is about a month away my nerves are starting to calm and excitement is brewing. The one thought I always remember when I think about what might be is that it will all be worth it in the end. I have a handsome, smart, caring, sweet, amazing son. Now I hope that I can have another child with my amazing, wonderful, bad-spelling ;-), affectionate, passionate hubs.

So hubs...just remember....you are not the only one that is broken. Love ya!

In a Land Far Far Away There Lived a Mexican Baby

Ladies, in case you were not aware men equate manliness to facial hair and sperm. The hubs is pretty proud of his ability to grow facial hair. As long as it doesn't spread to his back then I'm good to go. If you have both sperm and facial hair then you are a full fledged man. If you don't have both...well then you better be ready to defend your manhood. Ridiculous-I know. Last time I checked you can still be a woman without a uterus and boobs.

Disclaimer: This is all from my point of view...hubs may not agree. He seems to think I'm biased. Uhhhh...duh honey...it's my blog.

When the hubs first found out his diagnosis there was a lot of talk about "being broken". I tried to be encouraging, but at certain points I was just incredibly annoyed. What if it was me that was the problem? Would the hubs think I was less of a woman? I can say without a doubt that he would NOT think that. There were definitely a few rough patches. The people who knew tried to talk to the hubs, but there was no real talking that I was aware of. I could barely get him to talk about it. 

When the hubs confirmed he was indeed a full fledged man the blackout shades were suddenly lifted. If only I could get him to take down the real blackout shades then we wouldn't live in a flipping cave.

I found it very interesting that the more we talked about it the more we discovered couples hidden in the shadows who were dealing with infertility. We were a part of a strange secret society that no one wanted to be a part of. I looked back at all those times that I said "so when are you guys going to have kids" or "you guys would be great parents". I will never again say those things because I know from personal experience that those statements sting every time and it's none of my business. Hint hint people. But things for us were changing...holiday party-lets talk about the hub's sperm...wedding-lets talk about the hub's sperm.  The topic wasn't off limits. Shooting blanks was actually kind of funny but not really.

So what's next...

The research internet circle jerk had begun. I am actually quite mortified that the madre uses this term regularly after my Urban Dictionary research. How were we going to afford IVF? Do we take out a loan? Do we use our retirement? Do we try to save for an eternity? Lets be real here. For those that know me well, it is a known fact that I am all about immediate gratification. I want it now. Imagine spoiled brat temper tantrum in store. Our insurance covers no part of anything that could be considered assisted reporoductive technology. Glad I pay a premium for all those maternity benefits that I can't use. *insert sarcasm* The thought of paying 25-30k for IVF, ISCI, TESA, Medication was overwhelming. I'd explain what all those are but you all have Google.  There was no way. It just wasn't going to happen. Until....

Switched at implantation...bring on the Mexican baby.

Medical Tourism: is patient movement from highly developed nations to other areas of the world for medical care, usually to find treatment at a lower cost. Thanks Wikipedia

Lasik, gastric bypass, dental work, cancer treatment...all treatments people we knew had done in the great country of Mexico. That's right folks...we're off to Mexico-Cancun if you want to be specific! Again the advice and encouragement came pouring in "What if you come back with a Mexican baby" Then I will donate it to my Mexican friend "Is it safe" Well we won't get shot (hopefully) "Why not Canada" Canada has a waiting list and to be honest who wouldn't want to sit on a beach versus going to Canada? Other than the typical concerns most of the response we received was surprised but encouraging.

Flights booked, hotels booked...Cancun here we come....

Frozen Peas With a Cherry on Top

You ain't seen nothin yet...

Fertility doctors are sort of like the ambulance chasers of doctors. They benefit from the misfortune of patients and try to capitalize on it. I'd like to think that people become fertility specialists for the noble reason that they want to help a couple create a life. I am however a realist. These doctors are no dummies.

You see more often than not fertility treatments are not covered by insurances so they've come up with all these fancy ways to pay for a baby (something so many others do for free without even the slightest idea of how difficult the process can be). People finance babies, pull from their retirements, take out home equity loans, among countless other things. And before you rush to judgment think about how much money you may have had to shell out to get pregnant? Zero? I've come to discover the common response from those without fertility issues is "if you can't afford ivf then how are you going to afford a baby". Well I guess that's for me to worry about, but the first time you have to drop 30k dollars on your child in 1 shot I'd like to know how you do it.

So back to the fertility docs. In all honesty we only visited one. The office was beautiful, the staff was pleasant, and the doctor was nice enough. He went through his sales pitch of all the things we would do and try. Earth to doctor...what part of no sperm in semen do you think we are delusional about? When all was said and done the doc had me and the hubs prepped for the "turkey baster" method. 

"Turkey Baster"= Choke chicken in cup, insert chicken vomit in peach. Hope it works and you get a cheach.

 Hey doc-come over so I can shake you. I'm confident I would not damage the non-existent brain.

The hubs and I didn't go back to our doctor because let's be honest-there is no sperm to fertilize the egg. Why do I want a doctor who is going to "try" the cheaper method which has 0 chance of working. We knew our only choice was in vitro fertilization, or the "perti dish", but we still didn't know if the hubs could father a child or we would have to consider using a "donor" sperm.

Back to the old folks home....

After a couple hiccups (hubs being a procrastinator and insurance being stupid) we had an appointment scheduled for the hub's biopsy. The hubs was a wreck-I mean a full on nervous, anxious, scared ball of mess. Thank goodness for the anxiety pill otherwise I may have shot him up with some tequila. The nurse called the hubs back...it was time. I played on my phone, made some coffee, and read a couple magazines. The door opened and the hubs walked out (well if you want to call what he was doing "walking")There is a reason women go through pregnancy and give birth and men don't. Men are Big Babies. If you want to see the world come to an end then stick a "sperm extractor" into a man's testicles.  To make matters worse the doctor punctured BOTH testicles just to be extra sure. We got home and put the hubs to bed.  Oh man if only he had just stayed there. I'm heartless I know. A little bit of moaning and whining later and the hubs was hanging off the bed with a bag of peas in between his legs. Don't worry the peas were thrown out. A few days later the hubs was moving around a little less awkwardly and now wanted to show me his "trauma". I have had paper cuts bigger than his trauma. But in all fairness. I do not have testicles and from what I have seen they are uber sensitive and I actually feel for the hubs. Who knew that I was capable? I am thinking payback will be very enjoyable for him, but probably not cause the hubs has a much bigger heart than me. Cue gushing proud wife moment. MY HUBS IS THE BEST.

The results are in...

Doctor called when we were getting pizza for dinner. Come to think of it is was like 7:30 on a Friday night. Weird. There were TONS of swimmers locked away in there. Not the smart swimmers that are mature enough to know how to swim yet, but tons of swimmers to make our own baby!