Wait, what?

Mel at Stirrup Queens has a post that shines a little light on something I didn’t know.

Caveat emptor: I am the youngest and my SIL is a SAHM, so I’m not privy to what actually happens when you have kids. As in, after they get here.

All I know I learned from Julie.

So go read it. It’s okay. I’ll wait. Just please come back ’cause I have questions.

I don’t know which scary place Mel lives in (I think NY?), but in that bad place they take babies away from there parents when they are really little.

As in, before they turn 5.

And before you all flame me, I’m not being sarcastic.

While this may be the bliss that ensues when you have no reasonable risk of reproducing, let me just go on record as saying: I don’t want to give my kid(s) away that early. I want to teach them things. I want them to stay home with me.

And I want to go to the things they go to, whether it’s speech lessons, English lessons (remember, we’re moving so they’ll already know Hebrew), music lessons, swimming lessons, okay, you take my meaning, right?

Not to be a stage mommy. But to be a part of their lives.

And while I’ve not ever raised a child, I must say that I weigh in on the rather conservative side of things.

I’m not a religious I’m-going-to-homeschool attachment parenting baby wearer. Not that there is anything at all wrong with any of those viewpoints, it’s just not me.

I don’t want my babies to sleep in my bed. In all honesty, I’d kick out the hubby if I could get away with it. I want my kids to go to a regular school. I plan on letting them cry it out.

But sending them to preschool at 2 1/2 years? Are you kidding me? That’s practically infancy?! Can they even hold their heads up by then (okay, kidding, but you get my concern)?!

Is this the norm? Just so they can get accepted to Harvard?

— A very concerned Kirby (who hopes Rachel will tell her it’s not like this in Israel)

PS — I got into Harvard and I didn’t go to preschool. I stayed home with my mum. And I have dyslexia. So there preschool!

It’s amazing how much I suck at this

I failed my HCG trigger shot pee pee test.

No, I don’t mean I’m not pregnant. Way too early to be testing for that.

I took my HCG trigger shot on Friday morning. Took a FRER test on Tuesday night to see if the shot was out of my system.

I know, way too early to have cleared my body.

I took another one Wednesday morning.

Here’s the kicker … wait for it … it’s a goodie … BOTH TESTS WERE NEGATIVE.

Snow freaking white. One big ol pink line, clear as day.

I can’t even get a BFP with an HCG shot.

Has anyone else ever had this happen? Or even heard of it happening?

‘Cause I’m honestly starting to think I’m a man.

Free meds

This was kind of buried in the last post, and I’d really like to get rid of them, so:

I have free Luveris, PIO, IM syringes and needles and a sharps container for anyone who wants them.

E-mail and I’ll send them to you.

Eggs. Over. Easy.

Edited to add: Ticker. I am a total ticker whore.

Now that I’m done illicitly shooting up leftover meds, I thought I would go back and address/reply/comment on some of the mail and questions and stuff I got in regards to my DIY cycle. First off, thanks for writing them. Second, I invited this so I’m not the least bit angry about anything that was said and mean these replies in the best possible way.

Instead of replying to each of you individually, I’m going to kind of lump the gist of the questions together. Some of the things I say are kind of caustic, so I’d prefer not to associate them with a specific person.

Accumulated sentiment #1: How can you be this stupid! Ive had five IVF cycles. The first few were fine, but during the last one, I developed severe OHSS after less than four days on stims doing doses that are identical to those you are planning to do. If I would have done the trigger shot at the end of them, I would have a) died, b) had dodecatuplets or c) done permanent damage to my ovaries.

My thoughts: At the risk of opening this up to a lot more e-mail, I don’t believe you. Sorry. There. I said it.

I really doubt that if (like me, though only one cycle) you’ve had three or more cycles where it took you more than 12 days to reach any measurable level of ovarian stimulation (meaning there were follies to count, not anywhere near OHSS) that by decreasing your dosages to 66% of their prior prescription that you would have severe OHSS within five days. I think you are exaggerating a bit here folks. Trying to scare me out of doing what I was doing.

I understand why people tried to talk me out of what I was doing, but I don’t believe that this story is true. Prove me wrong.

Accumulated sentiment #2: Hey! I think it’s okay to do what you’re doing. A while back, I (removed stitches/lanced an absessed tooth/performed minor surgery/cut off an infected toenail/tweaked my own IVF protocol/self-medicated) by myself and it all worked out okay. Just be careful!

My thoughts: At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, you people are crazy. Get thee to a doctor! All of you!

Accumulated sentiment #3: You don’t know what you’re doing and are just wasting medication and you should just donate your meds to other people who are cycling. That’s what other women do. Why don’t you just save your meds for a later date?

My thoughts: Potentially, yes. Then again, how do we decide if a cycle is a waste of meds, money, etc.? You don’t get pregnant. By the same argument, my last cycle was a complete waste of time, money and medicine because it was canceled. That certainly wouldn’t prevent me from trying again.

So will this cycle be a waste of meds if I don’t get pregnant? I don’t feel that way.

And while I would have gladly donated my extra meds, syringes, etc. if I had gotten pregnant, I didn’t get pregnant. With all due respect, until I do, these are getting saved for me even if you think that’s a waste.

And I didn’t save them for a later date because a) fragile hormone meds probably wouldn’t have made it through several weeks in a shipping container in the summer, b) I am so not taking up space in my carry on or trying to get these through El Al, c) I don’t know if this is what I will be taking next time since I will be in Israel.

So it was kind of a use them or lose them sort of situation. I used them.

That said: I have two bottles of PIO and several IM syringes and needles, plus an extra sharps container, that I would gladly send to a good home. Pregnant or not after this, there is no way in hell I’m giving myself those. E-mail me and I’ll send them to the first person to reply.

I also have four (five?) packs of Luveris 75 units left that will go to the first person to e-mail me.

Accumulated sentiment #4: How will you know a) when to start the injections and how much stims to give yourself b) how many follicles you have c) when it is time to trigger and d) whether or not you are getting OHSS?

I started injections two days after I got my period. 10 units of Lupron. That worked last time to hold off ovulation for a goodly amount of time, so I didn’t change anything.

I worked backward from there: I was part of a study at the University of New Mexico that helped to build the new FRER. I won’t get into the gory details, but suffice it to say that after nine months in the study I a) know when I ovulate within a 24 hour window and b) know that I ovulate quite well on my own.

So I set it up that when I ovulated (Day 16) the trigger shot would have been in for 37 hours. Triggered on Friday morning (v convenient, no shots on shabbat). Backed that out five days, since that was how much Gonal F I had left (I know, not very scientific), which meant I started stims on Sunday night.

I did 150 units for the first two nights and didn’t feel any reaction. I bumped it to 225 units for the third and fourth days and took 300 units on the last day (that’s what was left — again, not very scientific). And I decreased the Lupron to 5 at first, then back to 7, cause I didn’t feel so good about 5.

I had the exact same symptoms this go around. Couldn’t use an OPK cause I was taking LH in the Luveris, but I charted EWCM and temp and everything was as it should be to the best of my knowledge.

I’ll let you know the results in a couple weeks.

Accumulated sentiment #5: You’re not a doctor. What if you get pregnant with 12 babies? Why are you doing this? Are you just doing this to make a point?

My thoughts: Umm. Duh. I’m doing this for the same reason anyone does a cycle. I want to have a baby.

No, I’m not a doctor. But it was my very educated and talented doctor that allowed me to ovulate on my IVF cycle, releasing more than 15 mature eggs (by their guess) and possibly landing me with an insane multiple pregnancy when I stated again and again that I thought I was about to ovulate.

With all due respect to the medical professionals of the world, there is a reason they say doctors are just practicing medicine.

I knew I was about to ovulate. I knew something was wrong. I knew I was in pain and no one cared. And I know that the ER I went to was woefully unable to help.

Why did we want to go right to IVF? So that we could control how many fertilized eggs we would have in my uterus. Unfortunately, we ended up with what could have been the worst possible scenario. And yes, I blame my doctor 100% for that, because it was entirely preventable.

So forgive me, but IVF #1 shattered my faith in medicine. I know my doc had blood tests and ultrasounds, but I had me and in the end … wait for it … I WAS RIGHT. And she was really, really wrong. And unwilling to listen.

No, I am not doing this to make a point. No, although I am bitter, I just think that cycle was a learning experience and I learned a lot.

And while I would hate to minimize the potential pitfalls of a high-order multiple pregnancy (and no, that is certainly not what we are going for), please explain to me how having sex is more likely to result in that than shooting the best sperm directly into my uterus? Do the math. This is actually safer than an IUI. More likely to be a waste of meds, I guess, but common sensically also much less likely to result in dodecatuplets.

If I end up with a high-order multiple pregnancy, we’ll deal with it. And if it something ideal (one or twins) we’ll be thrilled. If it is something in between (trips or quads), we’ll set up an eBay store.

Thanks again for all your letters and stories. No, I never went away, but I was reluctant to blog when I was doing this. I didn’t want to draw more attention to myself since this is not something I think other people should do. Or, chas v’shalom, something they should do if it works for us.

And yes, I am already pessimistic. I don’t think it will work.

A quick note

Last night of stims tonight. Trigger shot is tomorrow!

Here’s for hoping this all goes well!

So far, so good

Will post more later, but just a note to say that I’m doing well so far.

Decreased Lupron to 5 units tonight. Started 150 Gonal F and 75 Luveris. Going to stim for five days barring changes in CM or any problems. No bad side effects so far.

I’ll post more later. Still recovering from whirlwind tour that was Denver business trip.

What did you do Friday night?

In hindsight, it was just Aunt Flo making a shabbos visit. And that makes me feel really dumb now. My doc and nurse didn’t give me any heads up on any symptoms I might feel after stopping the shots cold turkey. And especially if any of them might be an issue for which I should seek medical attention.

Since I hadn’t been touched in a bad way by a doc in nearly three days, I felt it necessary to go to the ER on Friday night.

I started feeling really sick: shortness of breath, couldn’t take a deep breath, bad headache, massively swollen feet and ankles, numbness in my feet, and then bloody discharge. Given that I had just ovulated on what my docs said was likely Monday, it seemed a little unlikely I would have my period.

I freaked. I was convinced it was a hemorrage. We went to the hospital.

A CT scan, complete bloodwork panel, one liter of IV fluid and a pregnancy test later (BFN of course), it was decided I was fine. But the whole experience was unreal. Let me explain…

I do not expect the vast majority of doctors to understand the nuances of infertility, or for that matter, obstetrics and gynecology. I do not expect them to understand what Luveris and Lupron are. Or what the expected side effects of stopping a fairly aggressive protocol of hormone injections.

But I think any one wearing a white coat should have a modicum of basic medical knowledge. For example…

You should know what IVF stands for. Not the nitty gritty of injections and transfers. Just that it actually means In Vitro Fertilization.

You should know that people do IVF to get pregnant. That’s generally what it means when people list “treatment for infertility” on their admitting chart.

And for the love of all things, you should know that when someone is feeling really ill after stopping hormone injections, enough so that they marched into your ER, it would probably be good to look up the side effects of a canceled IVF cycle. On the Internet if you must. Because I could have done a better job treating myself in that hospital than he did.

For example: how about a CT of my abdomen instead of my chest? Because if I’m short of breath, it’s likely because of my womanly bits, not my lungs.

And no, I probably don’t need the bloodwork to check for anemia, since I’ve been throwing back prenatal vitamins like they’re dinner mints for several weeks now.

And please, please, don’t tell me to go home and call my RE. You see, my RE is a bitch who doesn’t really care if I am okay or not. And she puts absolutely no faith in anything I think is going on in my body — like when I said last Sunday, “Hey, I think I’m about to ovulate.” You all know how that ended.

And if I really thought it was enough to call my doc, I would have. But I didn’t. I came to the ER. So here’s an idea – how about YOU call my doc?

And finally. Don’t ask me if “there is any chance I could be pregnant” right before you hit the start button on the CT machine. We’re being treated for infertility, which means it’s not likely, but for the love of God, yes, THERE IS A CHANCE I COULD HAVE BEEN PREGNANT, JACKASS.

Anyhoo. We got home at 4 a.m. Saturday. It wasn’t the best way to spend shabbat, though the nurses and CT tech were amazingly kind and totally got it (evidently there is a very high incidence of infertility in the ER nursing population here in the small town. Word has it they go to Baltimore for treatment).

And no, please don’t give me a pregnancy test at 2 a.m. after pumping a liter of fluids into my arm when I’m telling you I just ovulated a few days before. There is no way in hell that’s going to be positive, even if pregnancy is imminent. Which it isn’t. Aunt Flo is definitely here.

And now: an extra-special edition of dumb things I’m doing right now!

Instead of doing an IUI cycle, we’re going to do a DIY medicated home nookie cycle. Which is where you self-prescribe the vast quantities of medicine left over from your previous IVF cycle and then have sex.

Before you jump on me and say “Are you nuts? Do you have any idea what a bad idea that is,” I was told I would be doing most of the medicated IUI cycle without monitoring anyhoo. So this is actually safer in my opinion, since sex is less successful that AI, and therefore you would think we would less risk of multiples. That said, it’s a complete crapshoot and I might really regret it in a few weeks.

The only real difference? I haven’t told anyone except the hubby and this blog that I’m doing this. And unless something goes horrifically wrong or we get pregnant, I don’t intend to tell anyone.

I started Lupron tonight. 10 units at 6 p.m. I’m going to start stims next Sunday, but probably not decrease the Lupron that much. I will go easy on the stims (150 units of GonalF and 75 of Luveris), with trigger shot that Friday. We will make like rabbits and see what happens.

Of course, if at any time I don’t feel well, I will take appropriate medical assistance and stop.

I’m eager to hear how batshit insane you think I am for doing this. Alternately, if anyone thinks its an interesting idea (or gasp! you thought about it too), I’d love to hear that too.

Why Modi’in is a maybe

Here’s an aliyah update:

The hubby got into TAU, of which he reminds me every day lest I forget. Tel Aviv University is in … you guessed it … Tel Aviv.

We originally decided to move to Haifa for no really good reason other than it was cheaper than Jerusalem and Tel Aviv and had a train. Our shaliach and NBN convinced us to move to Modi’in. Having never been to either (I know — can you friggin imagine we’re moving clear across the globe with no real experience?), we were not too difficult to sway. And Rachel Inbar lives there and she kind of rocks my world.

Add to it: there is a communal aliyah program in Modi’in that, in theory, provides additional rental subsidies for a few months, there is a coordinator to help you find an apartment, and even extra ulpan (kind of like a state-run Hebrew lessons so you can learn the language).

All good. Only a couple little problems:

1. Now we’re being told you cannot be a part of the communal aliyah program and receive benefits to pay for grad school. In a nutshell, the student benefits are roughly 3K per year per student (I hope to do grad school too a bit later). The communal aliyah rental subsidy is roughly $200 a month for six months, or $1200. One-time benefit. And yes there is more to the communal aliyah program than just the rental help, but it would be a lot of education to sacrifice for a small help when we first get there. The biggest part is supposed to be that they help you find an apartment. Which brings me to…

2. We are having a very difficult time finding an apartment. As in, absolutely no options yet. We were told we would have no trouble finding a two bedroom unfurnished apartment in Modi’in between $400-$600 a month that allows pets and is near the bus lines. We were told to stick to Givat C or maybe Buchman if we wanted to spend a bit more. So far, nothing we’ve been told about comes in at less than $800. There is absolutely no way we can afford that when we are both going to be unemployed at least for a while. Because we have pets, we cannot go to an absorption center as easily as other folks.

3. And we’ve had a harsh brush with reality and the life that will be ours when we move to Israel. A recent conversation:

The hubby: We’re having a tough time finding an apartment in Modi’in.

Coordinator person for Modi’in: Did you take a pilot trip?

H: No, so-and-so in your organization told us we didn’t need to since we were in Israel for a few weeks a few years ago.

C: So you’re coming to a country that you’ve only been to once?

H: Yes.

C: What are you going to do when you get here?

H: I’m going into the MaMEH program at TAU. My wife is going to retrain as a technical writer…

C: And you visited that program when you were here?

H: Well, no…

C: So you’re going to a grad school you’ve never visited?

H: Well, yes… *

Ah, and that’s when I stopped listening. I love my husband very dearly, but when I listen to these exchanges I can’t help but imagine one of those “National Geographic Explorer” safari movies in the background where a gazelle is about to get taken down by a lion. He just doesn’t know how to stand up for himself and the Israelis are going to tear him a new one.

Anyhoo. We are very much so still moving. And we still have our hearts set on Modi’in. This is the part where I beg for help from my Israeli readers.

1. If you know of a way to find an apartment, please let us know. We are used to living in dumpy college-type apartments and are not very picky.

2. Does Modi’in have kennels? Is there a place where we could board our pets when we first get there so that we could just stay in an absorption center until we find an apartment?

3. When will the train be operating? My understanding is that the station is already being built, but when is it expected to start running?

4. What neighborhoods should we be looking at? We’re looking for cheap and mixed — as in, not all religious so the culture shock is a bit less.

* For the love of Pete, it’s a Middle Eastern History program at Tel Aviv University. How bad can it be? Moreover, it’s taught in English, isn’t too expensive and they accepted my husband, so what’s not to like? There are fewer than 10 universities in Israel, so it’s not like you send in 20 grad school apps. And there have got to be worse places to study about the Middle East. We’re moving to Israel. That means we’re going to grad school in Israel. And that means we apply at a handful of places and go for it if we can afford it and they accept us.

But thanks for you assvice, coordinator lady. If this gig doesn’t work out for you, you’d be a natural fit as an IVF nurse.

That’s the key(word)

Finally seeing how people find my blog. Here are your favorite Google search keywords:

Sonohystogram: Not as bad as it’s cracked up to be.

Sex after a sonohystogram: Not as good as it’s cracked up to be.

Harry Potter enema arse: ???

Balebusta: me, sort of

K’deirah blech: bringing joy and hot food to your home and mine

injection needles on shabbos: one word for you — heter

triathlon training ironman: boy, you were sorely disappointed, no?

passover joke: yup, that’s my life

enema “to shit”: best of luck with that – you have my sympathies

“chilul hashem” 2007: my life in a nutshell

how to lose weight from luveris: umm, stop taking it?

how long before labor begins if already dilated to 3 centimeters: you got me – but if I ever get there, I’ll let you know

“mock embryo transfer” instructions: umm yeah – aleve

modiin: our new home, unless we move somewhere else (more on this ongoing nightmare motzi shabbos)

Good shabbos or shavua tov depending on what time it is in your neck of the woods!

Very ouch, baby

I am not one of those people who gets bothered by things that bother most fertility-challenged women.

I am not saying there is anything wrong with not wanting to hold someone else’s baby, not enjoying it when another co-worker is pregnant or hating Mother’s Day. That said, in the past, that just wasn’t me.

Then again, this is my second post about how this isn’t me in two weeks now. So maybe it’s growing on me.

But this much is definitely true: our embryo transfer was scheduled for Sunday.

Mother’s Day.

And it hurts a lot more this year than in any other year since my mom passed away.

For awhile there, it was actually easier. Mother’s Day wasn’t a holiday for my mom, it had become a holiday for me — a woman trying to become a mother. And initially, the hubby would get me a small token gift.

His fear? That we would get pregnant between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, and I would get him something and always be one present ahead of him.

For the first two years we tried to conceive, he got me a little present, or we arranged a nice dinner, etc.

The third year, nothing. By then it was obvious this wasn’t going to resolve itself.

No plans this year — have to work — but it will be harder than it has been in a long time.

**********************

We do have a very large potential concern. Actually, potentially a couple dozen of them.

You see, in an attempt to keep the hubby’s swim team in competition form, we … ahh … had a lot of swim practice in the week prior to the cycle being canceled. Which is all well and good except for the fact that now we know I ovulated between 14 and 22 mature eggs.

Do the math. Basically a worst-case scenario IUI on steroids. This could end very badly. There is a very small likelihood that the worst could happen (even a small likelihood we could actually get pregnant with just one or two), but I’ll be breathing a sigh of relief when AF comes to visit this month.

For the record, by the time this math was done, it was too late to take anything to prevent multiple embryo issues. Wouldn’t that just be my luck?

And yes, my clinic mocked me for being afraid that I might get pregnant with some obscene number of embryos.

We haven’t spoken to our clinic yet, but we are going to try and shoot for an IUI. Figuring we don’t need to do anything until I get my period, we’ve got some time to wait.

That said, I’m quite glad we are not going to have a relationship with this clinic soon. We’ve had months worth of diagnostic treatment but have yet to actually receive any treatment that could help to get us pregnant: both the IUI and the IVF cycles were canceled.

I can’t help but think to myself — who in their right mind would stay with this clinic if they were paying out of pocket?

And no, to this date, no one from there has even said “Sorry.”

The best part? Here’s a snippet from my chat with the nurse after the cycle was canceled:

Kirby: So, is it alright for us to have sex?

Nurse: Why? There really isn’t any point in it.

K: No, I mean, not to get pregnant.

N: Oh, yeah. I guess. If you’re not pregnant now, you’re not going to be.

Amazingly, some of us actually have sex for reasons other than self-hating and shattered confidence in our own bodies.

And finally: thanks very much for all the kind thoughts and words. I appreciate them like crazy and hope that even if the blog posting drops off for a bit, that you’ll still come back and comment some day.