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!

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.

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....

Toddlers In Tiaras Style Meltdown and the Turning Point

This post is going to be a little bit difficult for me because it makes me look like a ginormous asshole. The hubs will attest that I never like to admit when I'm wrong, but I am writing in a moment of weakness.  If you ask me tomorrow I will plead the fifth.

Honey Boo Boo ain't got nothin on me...

I was beginning to feel like I was on a never ending scavenger hunt of things to find but no end in sight. The few months that followed the discovery of our infertility were very dark and depressing times. We chose a select few people who we confided in. Talking about or options was not easy and never seemed to end well. Don't get me wrong, my marriage to the hubs was always solid and my first priority.  The excitement of "trying" to conceive was gone. Sorry hubs and family members but there's no holding back here. Mattress mambo took a back burner-what was the point?  The hubs dealt with feelings of inadequacy as a man (because somehow in a man's sperm count equates to manliness). Dreams of a white picket fence and four kids were fading into a distant memory. I had convinced myself (Big Fat Lie) that I would be okay not having anymore children. Deep down my heart ached for my husband and myself, but it was my turn to be strong. The husband wondered if I would have married him had we known he couldn't have children and to be honest I know I would have, but it would have been the same huge blow before marriage as it was after.

Various couples close to us had started trying to get pregnant (or not trying not to). About four months into our journey rock bottom came in the form of a package. Although the hubs had noble intentions he waited till I was a few drinks in (okay more than a few) to tell me the news. In his loving "my wife is gonna blow a gasket" way he informed me that we had received a package in the mail that day. There was no time for him to finish-the tears were flowing and the screaming, sadness, and jealousy raged. "How dare someone not have the decency to tell us with more tact knowing our situation". "How self absorbed can they be that they didn't think to tell us more delicately". Yeah I'm a shitbag-although even now I have trouble admitting that.  In my typical manner I jumped the gun. I raised hell on people that only wanted us to share in their joy. I had no joy so how could I feel it for someone else? I put my husband in an awkward position (although at the time I don't know that he was in a better emotional state than me). I held out a long time before fences were mended. Being stubborn hurts no one but the stubborn person.  Two...three...pregnancy announcements...each one taken a little better than the last. End me being asshole...well I guess that could be up for debate.

Okay so no freeway to drive but are there cars in the garage? (Think analogy people)

One thing I have learned during this whole process is that doctors like to draw pictures. They draw pictures of  ovaries, uteruses, testicles, clowns, fish, and who knows what else. If they get a chance to draw you a picture they do. Who cares if the patient's eyes have glazed over, they want to hit the point home by drawing you a picture. I think for Christmas this year we are going to get our doctors an Etch-A-Sketch...at least this way they can save a few trees.

After the urologist we were moving on the the fertility doctor. The appointment was uneventful. We went through the same question and answers sessions we had gone through before. Then it was time...time for the camera up my "peach". Thanks Flynn if you're reading this-it's almost as good as tallywacker. Unlike the hubs, I was nice enough to not kick him out of the room. Yadda yadda..."you have a healthy uterus" "enough room for twins"...yadda yadda. Hubs has been officially initiated into the world of womanhood minus the creepy alligator crank. Women, you know what I'm talking about.

That question again....

Is there a history of cystic fibrosis in your family?

Uhhhhhh...how bout you just cut to the chase because the hubs is horrible about remembering names, birthdates, what he ate for dinner the night before (unless there is leftovers in the fridge). There is NO WAY he can tell you his family medical history.  One of the hubs few irritating qualities. Fast forward through a hole bunch of boring blood tests and WE HAVE AN ANSWER (well sort of)!

Long story short:
embryo=mutated cystic fibrosis gene
fetus=did not develop vas deferens
baby/man=natural vasectomy

Yeah I bet some of you men are jealous. Now on to the next hiccup in our journey (because the ones we have had have not been enough?). If I tested positive for being a carrier of the cystic fibrosis gene any child that we may potentially have would have 1 in 4 chance of having cystic fibrosis. This of course was assuming that the hubs even had sperm to father a child.

Then there it was, finally some good news, I was not a carrier.

Women think the speculum (creepy alligator crank ) is bad...a TESA is probably worse, and it is next on the agenda.