tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60525738223495107792024-03-06T13:04:41.566-06:00On the Road to BabyOur journey to parenthoodGINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.comBlogger79125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-60041956240498216622010-04-01T19:36:00.003-05:002010-04-01T19:45:11.741-05:00BABY STATUSI haven't written in quite some time, but I'm getting a lot of requests for an update. Here you go... I'm 33 weeks today and baby is doing great. We are waiting until the big day to find out the sex. We're going to try for a natural birth and I'm really looking forward to it - all of it. <br /><br />I will probably discontinue this blog when baby comes. We've traveled this road to baby almost as far as it stretches, and it's time for us to make a turn onto the next one.<br /><br />Thanks for the support and encouragement.<br /><br />Look for at least one more final baby update...GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-63617352582652019942009-12-22T15:19:00.003-06:002009-12-22T15:28:33.267-06:00BABY HOLLAND AT 17 WEEKS, 5 DAYS<a href="http://s216.photobucket.com/albums/cc90/ginalfish/?action=view¤t=us10008-1.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc90/ginalfish/us10008-1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br />We have a thumb-sucker! I'm completely in love...<br /><br />This was taken at last week's appointment. The doctor is recommending a level 2 sonogram in a couple weeks to double check on measurements. I also have an appointment with a cardiologist next week to check on my palpitations, arrhythmia, and chest pains. Im sure it's nothing, but it's better to be sure than unprepared.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-4362822558500384812009-12-09T19:08:00.003-06:002009-12-09T19:43:31.245-06:00SHOW & TELL: WHAT DO YOU SAY WHEN THEY ASK "HOW"?For this week's <a href="http://www.stirrup-queens.com/2009/12/the-82nd-circle-time-the-show-and-tell-weekly-thread/">Show & Tell</a>, I'll do the showing, but you're going to do the telling. Read on, and after you leave a comment, mosey on over to <a href="http://www.stirrup-queens.com/2009/12/the-82nd-circle-time-the-show-and-tell-weekly-thread/">Mel's place</a> to see who else is showing off cool stuff this week.<br />___________________________<br /><br />There are a lot of people in my life who know that I've been battling infertility for a long time. Some of these people are family, close friends, and coworkers. By now, just about everyone in my life knows that I'm pregnant, and they're all very happy for us. However, not all of these people know that Kev and I conceived through IVF. It's not something that we choose to broadcast for many reasons. <br /><br />One reason we don't share our IVF experience with just anybody is because some people have very strong opinions, mostly based on religion, about why IVF should not be an option. I'm not saying they're wrong; I'm just saying that Kev and I obviously don't feel the same way. If you would have asked my opinion on the subject about ten years ago, I might have had a very different answer from what I have now. But fighting infertility and the heartache it has imposed for six years has made me see things differently. Now, I believe that God gave me the mental and physical fortitude as well as the monetary means to be able to pursue IVF after all our other options failed. No one can say we didn't exhaust other options. And I don't know that I could handle hearing someone telling me that my child was conceived through sin. On the contrary, our child was conceived through many years of hard work, commitment, and faith. Yes, faith. <br /><br />Another reason we don't tell people we conceived through IVF is because... well, it's OUR business. Why should it matter to people who are not intimately involved in our lives how our child was conceived? What really matters is that we are finally going to bring a child into the world, right?<br /><br />I know people don't mean to be insensitive, but some of the things they say really cut me. It feels like I'm being judged. It feels like my unborn child is being judged. The comments that are hardest to deal with are, "I thought you couldn't have kids" and "How did you do it? I thought you couldn't conceive naturally."<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">So my question is this: When people who vaguely know about my struggles with infertility ask me how I conceived, what should I tell them? </span><br /><br />And now for your viewing pleasure, our peanut's first picture, taken about ten weeks ago. I should get another one next week! <br /><a href="http://s216.photobucket.com/albums/cc90/ginalfish/?action=view¤t=us10006-1.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc90/ginalfish/us10006-1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br />Now, I've shown you my treasure; it's your turn to tell me how I should handle questions like these.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-27275078426756202622009-11-22T10:21:00.002-06:002009-11-22T10:32:49.393-06:00YES. I'M PREGNANT!I realize that my falling off the face of the earth and neglecting my blog for nearly three months is maddening to those of you who were following my story. And to you, I apologize. Let me try to explain...<br /><br />I told people of my pregnancy shortly after my first blood test three years ago. The pregnancy did not last. Needless to say, I was devastated. But one of the hardest things was having all those people ask me how I was feeling and telling them that I had lost the baby. It took at least a month for people to stop asking me about the baby that they thought was still nestled in my womb. <br /><br />I don't know how many people in what circles of my life read this blog, so I was playing it safe and laying low for a while. Should something terrible have happened, I would only have to tell the select few people (mostly family) of my heartbreak. But through the grace of God, one of the two little ones inside will join me in a few short months. I'm done hiding.<br /><br />I am fourteen weeks, 3 days pregnant! The little bundle is due to join the world on May 20, 2010. <br /><br />So, if you're still with me, I thank you for your patience. <br /><br />It will probably take me a while to get back into the swing of things in blogland, but I'll be around. You can't get rid of me that easily.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-54720069560777404632009-09-02T18:27:00.005-05:002009-09-02T18:48:03.505-05:00SHOW & TELL - BLASTS AND BRUISESSo far, so good! <br /><br />I got the call yesterday morning that the first two blastocysts the embryologist thawed survived. Kev and I went in for the transfer at noon and I currently have two itty-bitty, teeny-tiny, soon-to-be-babies looking for a nice place to implant inside my uterus. Everything this cycle has been absolutely textbook. My uterus should be a nice cozy place for those little ones to snuggle in for the next nine-ish months. <br /><br />My beta is in one week - September 9th. Let's look at that again. The date is 09/09/09. That's got to be some kind of sign for great things.<br /><br />And speaking of great, my great - as in huge - gluteal region is now adorned with several lovely (and quite painful) lumps and bruises from the daily PIO shots. It makes sitting a little less fun, but I'd do it every hour on the hour if it meant that we get to bring a baby (or babies) home from the hospital in a few short months.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjweJ7gan3iqVpkWeS1QlTRPhPbEcuYIzo8Cs9Ehl5pn3rAQI7-SA_SrH825Oo8JvywCrNcs6GwBS6tJTo_M9Zgs2jHpBzPXmCnhBs9y1PoO7KkCO7Z33ZecbcUBIqviUnnm6P32hVid_SK/s1600-h/6-22.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 149px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjweJ7gan3iqVpkWeS1QlTRPhPbEcuYIzo8Cs9Ehl5pn3rAQI7-SA_SrH825Oo8JvywCrNcs6GwBS6tJTo_M9Zgs2jHpBzPXmCnhBs9y1PoO7KkCO7Z33ZecbcUBIqviUnnm6P32hVid_SK/s320/6-22.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377018236879843218" /></a><br /><br />The picture makes it seem harmless enough, and most intramuscular shots I've had are pretty harmless. But those damn PIO shots are a bitch (at least they're not as bad as Hep.arin). For <a href="http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/2009/09/68th-circle-time-show-and-tell-weekly.html">Mel's Show and Tell</a>, I was pretty tempted to take a picture of my ass as proof of bruising, but I didn't want to completely disgust my readers with my lumpy, black and blue bum. So instead, you got a cartoon.<br /><br />You're welcome.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-5964082224198090242009-08-23T15:12:00.004-05:002009-08-23T15:33:41.272-05:00DUDE, WHERE'S MY CAVE?Boy, was I ever wrong about the Lupron. I thought I was going to end up being one of the lucky few who did not suffer severe headaches while on this medication. That definitely did not happen. In the last three weeks, I have had a combined hour count of about 72 that were not infiltrated by the infamous Lupron headache. At least, that's what I think is causing them. I suppose it could be coincidental that the headaches started right around the time I started injecting Lupron, but I think it's just too close. The headaches actually feel more like migraines, because I get a great sensitivity to light. Several people have asked me why I was making faces at them as we had a conversation. How do you tell them you're just trying to block out the sunlight (without squinting them out of your line of sight) without sounding like you're complaining of a headache? People always want to give you something to take care of it, but Tylenol doesn't even put a dent in the Lupron headache. So I would just giggle, apologize, and focus on the ground for the remainder of our outdoor conversation, while inching my way to the nearest sun-free cave.<br /><br />I was also wrong about the medications - well, just one of them. The patches that I wear are not progesterone patches, but estrogen patches. I am currently wearing three and changing them every other day. Soon, the dosage will be upped to four every other day. Metformin, baby Asprin, Lupron, and prenatals are still part of my daily med intake. Beginning on Tuesday, I will add the progesterone in oil shots that I've been dreading. Although I do not look forward to bending over for that one every morning, it does mean that we are that much closer to transfer. The day all the magic happens is...<br /><br />September first, babies! Momma is getting her body ready for you. The nursery is ready, your pets are ready, Momma and Daddy are ready. We just need you! Hurry home, little ones.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-31879441290722037102009-07-31T10:39:00.004-05:002009-07-31T11:08:15.656-05:00ROLLING RIGHT ALONGI'm back on the Lupron. I really don't think I mind it too much. I've heard a lot of women complain of headaches while on it, not me. The first night I injected it, the medicine hurt going in. It didn't sting or burn and the needle obviously doesn't hurt much (it's tiny), but when I slowly pushed the plunger, that medicine wanted to hurt me. The second night's shot left a golf ball-sized bruise on my tummy. I can handle the bruising, and I can even handle the burning when I'm short on patience and don't wait for the alcohol to dry before injecting the needle, but I don't like the pain. I don't think that's supposed to happen. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Have any of you experienced a dull pain when injecting Lupron before? </span> <br /><br />I stop BCP in a couple of days and begin loads and loads of progesterone very soon. I will be wearing progesterone patches, inserting vaginal progesterone suppositories, and getting shots of progesterone in oil in my rump. I let Kev give me those shots for a few reasons:<br /><br /> <span style="font-style:italic;">1. the needle is enormously thick and I would never be able to jam it in<br /> 2. I would laugh hysterically with the needle poised inches over my skin, thinking about how unpleasant it will be and never actually do it<br /> 3. the solution is so thick it takes a very long time fully inject all the medicine<br /> 4. I hold my breath while the meds are going in, and because it takes so long I would undoubtedly pass out with the needle hanging on to my muscle at a ninety degree angle</span><br /><br />I know, call me a wuss. I have a very high tolerance for pain, but a weak resolve to inflict it upon myself.<br /><br />I'll also be taking a few other things to help prepare my uterus for the frozen embryo transfer. I hope they like it in there and want to stay a full nine months!GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-82657367937388036062009-07-21T10:21:00.002-05:002009-07-21T10:36:50.928-05:00FET COMING UPWe had our frozen embryo transfer planning meeting yesterday. I think we both felt a little disappointed by how we were treated. We weren't treated badly, but we weren't made to feel as important as when we were planning and going through the entire IVF process. We waited over an hour before we were seen, then the consult only lasted twenty minutes. We were informed that although we were told we had a substantial credit to use toward this transfer, we actually did not and would be paying full price instead. We were also told that the transfer would be September 1st. It's really not that different from the original "end of August" date, but just to hear that it is in yet a different month broke my heart. <br /><br />It seems our infertility battle just keeps going and going and going. We've had such a long journey, and after six years of heartache, I'm ready for some good news. <br /><br />I couldn't help but cry at the appointment. I've been doing that a lot lately. Honestly, I've cried (hard) every day for the past nine days. Maybe it's my body trying to regulate from the massive amounts of hormones I pumped into it for two months to prepare for IVF. Whatever it is, it's driving me and Kev nutso.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-55868109790572274412009-07-09T16:33:00.005-05:002009-07-10T00:15:35.481-05:00STABBEDI've been putting this off long enough. I just need to get it out. Here's the last installment of the story of how our IVF cycle turned into a nightmare. If you missed the beginning of this story, you'll want to <a href="http://ginalou.blogspot.com/2009/07/dance-for-me.html">read this post first</a>, then <a href="http://ginalou.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-wondered-if-it-would-ever-end.html">read this one</a>. <br /><br />Deep breath. I can do this.<br /><br />Once admitted to my hospital room, I had a team of nurses buzzing frantically around my room. Though they worked quickly and seriously, they did a nice job of keeping everyone thinking that this problem was, in fact, fixable. It was now after 5:00 AM and I had been violently ill for over two hours. The nausea and vomiting was getting worse; I gasped for air between painful retches. As I continued to be sick into my trusty hospital-issued mauve bucket, Kev stayed by my side, dabbing my face with a cool rag. Meanwhile, Nurse #1 attempted for fifteen minutes to find a vein in my left arm for an IV. She stuck me several times, but found no usable vein and no blood - I was too dehydrated. Nurse #2 took over and began sticking my other arm. She tried for another fifteen minutes and was about to give up when she finally was able to find a vein on the back side of my forearm near my elbow. As soon as the IV fluid hit my bloodstream, I suddenly felt life again coursing into my fingers. I hadn't realized until that moment how dead I had felt. Although I was still vomiting, I raised my hand to my face, in an attempt to see color return. I couldn't see anything but the bottom of that ugly mauve bucket. <br /><br />I was given the first of six shots of Hep.arin in my stomach and a shot of nausea medication in my IV. In addition, I was given an initial round of nine bottles of Alb.umin in my IV. Over the next two days, I would be given somewhere around 20 bottles of this medication (I lost count). I was very hopeful that the vomiting would immediately stop as the nurses had promised, but I was so far gone that the vomiting lasted another eight hours for a total of eleven grueling hours of the most extreme nausea I didn't know existed. Once the vomiting finally stopped around 2:00 PM, I felt I had returned from the dead. <br /><br />My fertility specialist came to my room around 3:00 and told me how much better I looked. I don't remember seeing him prior to this; apparently, I had my head in the mauve bucket the first time he came to check on me. He ordered that my abdomen be tapped to drain the excess fluid that had built up over the previous four days. <br /><br />Oh God, give me strength. This is where it gets ugly. The squeamish may want to skip the next paragraph.<br /><br />I was wheeled down to the radiology department where the nurse sonogramed my abdomen to find the best place to make the incision. He X'ed me with a magic marker and left me there for over an hour as I waited for the doctor to perform the procedure. The doctor finally showed up and shot the local anesthetic into my abdomen. It stung a little at first, but I gritted my teeth and the pain quickly subsided as the anesthetic began to work. Then it was time to make the incision. He began cutting. At first, I only felt pressure. But as his scalpel reached beyond the superficial layer of my abdomen, I felt the blade of the scalpel stabbing, cutting, tearing deeper and deeper. I screamed in pain. I screamed and screamed and begged him to stop. I screamed and stretched and waved my arms out in an attempt to find something to hold on to. There was nothing there to hold. There was no one there to help me. He screamed for the nurse to turn on the light. I screamed for a break so I could catch my breath. I don't know what he did with the light, but he soon asked for it to be turned out again so he could watch the sonogram and finish the incision. And so he did. And so I continued crying and screaming as the scalpel stabbed deeper and deeper. Several minutes later, he was finally through. He inserted the drainage tube and attached the collection bag to my leg. As I lie there trying to stop crying and to catch my breath, the nurse brought me a form and a pen and told me to sign. I was shaking so hard and had tears clouding my vision, so I asked him what it was he needed me to sign. He did not tell me. He just repeated that I needed to sign it. I asked again and got the same response. All I wanted to do was get the hell out of there and away from the man who just stabbed me. I signed it. The nurse helped me into a wheelchair and took me back up to my room. When my mother-in-law saw me white as a ghost and shaking, she went limp, obviously worried, and asked me what had happened. I couldn't speak. All I could do was shake my head and quiver. <br /><br />I don't know what went wrong. I don't know why I could feel the scalpel slicing my flesh open. The doctor who performed the procedure came up to my hospital room and gave some lame excuse that his needle wasn't long enough to reach all the layers of my abdomen. I know that has to be bullshit. I'm not that big. He fucked up and was trying to cover his ass. I will be filing a formal complaint with the hospital. I don't want anyone else to have to endure that terrifying pain. Imagine a small child in that man's poor care. He needs his cutting license removed. I'd like to cut him. I digress.<br /><br />Over the next 30 hours, over two gallons of fluid was removed from my abdomen. As disgusting as that sounds, it was definitely sweet relief to no longer have that fluid crushing my organs. I was given more Hep.arin, several shots of Dem.erol, and loads of Darv.ocet. Neither of the pain medications did anything to alleviate the torture of the drainage tube lodging itself into my enlarged and extremely tender ovaries. Once the tube was removed, I was pain-free for the first time in five long days.<br /><br />I was sent home Wednesday evening around 9:00. I had an appointment for embryo transfer the next morning. At the appointment, I told my doctor that I had been extremely dizzy since 4:00 PM the previous night and that I still was not urinating. The embryo transfer was cancelled. I was still too sick with OHSS too transfer. He said it would have been inevitable that I would have ended up in the hospital again if the embryos implanted. The OHSS would be worse and would last much longer. Weeks or months. I was crushed. <br /><br />Writing this post has been difficult. I had to stop and cry a couple of times, but I think it has helped me. Maybe now that I've gotten it out, the insomnia and nightmares will stop. <br /><br />Now on to our frozen embryo transfer in August. We have ten embryos frozen and waiting for us. I can't wait to meet them. I love them already.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-82125367655367904052009-07-08T18:08:00.004-05:002009-07-08T18:16:21.411-05:00SHOW & TELL - BROKEN UPIs it possible to <a href="http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/2009/07/60th-circle-time-show-and-tell-weekly.html">Show and Tell</a> about two completely different things? I'll try. Let's see how it works out.<br /><br />First, the show:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjejsY8Hg1cSKhlkqul9eGDmr8DJF5NQ0SZ2MvvTz_-2psStfNBxQsffD5-iwRCc6ZbFxwe4Bva1dpAQjSv0lbZLs1jbyANy8mKJtxnauDhfLgpDTrQkFEelG4oEi0Tr_g4G_CRFL5l7gKp/s1600-h/IMG00308.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjejsY8Hg1cSKhlkqul9eGDmr8DJF5NQ0SZ2MvvTz_-2psStfNBxQsffD5-iwRCc6ZbFxwe4Bva1dpAQjSv0lbZLs1jbyANy8mKJtxnauDhfLgpDTrQkFEelG4oEi0Tr_g4G_CRFL5l7gKp/s320/IMG00308.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356230473665501874" /></a><br />Our new puppy Polly. She's about ten days old and I can't wait for her to come home.<br /><br />Next, the tell:<br />I'd like to continue the story of my recent hospitalization, but honestly, I'm getting to the traumatic part that I keep reliving over and over and I don't think I'm quite ready to write about it. If you missed the beginning of the story, <a href="http://ginalou.blogspot.com/2009/07/dance-for-me.html">read this first</a>, then <a href="http://ginalou.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-wondered-if-it-would-ever-end.html">read this one</a>. You'll have to check back soon to get the most intense part of the story. I promise I'll write about it. I just need a minute to catch my breath.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-49999918968440680002009-07-07T15:09:00.006-05:002009-07-07T17:00:12.687-05:00MISERY<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaSKMLP4l8jn_gg6_a1NsJ0J1YKLS-T8cjPxVO_jnnWZtB3fkDDv9IGFUJqWZqPz4uM9zSyOeWWoN5YslG5e1UvhNi7en30-iOImx-oBHpCvnpCVAV4EF4NdDhGvST53rfDfbbUSL3F8sK/s1600-h/misery_photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 203px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaSKMLP4l8jn_gg6_a1NsJ0J1YKLS-T8cjPxVO_jnnWZtB3fkDDv9IGFUJqWZqPz4uM9zSyOeWWoN5YslG5e1UvhNi7en30-iOImx-oBHpCvnpCVAV4EF4NdDhGvST53rfDfbbUSL3F8sK/s320/misery_photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355840100428967906" /></a><br /><br />If you missed the beginning of this story, <a href="http://ginalou.blogspot.com/2009/07/dance-for-me.html">read this first.</a><br /><br />To follow up on the story from yesterday...<br /><br />After the egg-retrieval I spent two hours in the recovery room because my nurse's computer crashed. This made me VERY uncomfortable and unhappy. I just wanted to see my husband and get the report from the retrieval and go home. They finally released me, escorting me in a wheelchair to my car. And so the super fun-time OHSS party begins. <br /><br />I began feeling very ill in the car. We only had a fifteen minute drive from the hospital to our house, but somewhere on the highway, I informed Kev that I was going to faint. And so I did. As he maneuvered the highway, he held my unconscious head in his hand, in an attempt to keep me sitting upright even though I had gone completely limp and fallen between the two front seats of our little SUV. As he later recalled the story to my sister, he said that people probably thought he was some kind of creep riding around I-35 holding on to a cadaver. I regained consciousness at some point, but don't remember the rest of the ride or our arrival at home. Somehow, Kev got me into my PJ's and brought me downstairs to lay on the couch - my new home for the next four days. <br /><br />If I remember correctly, my sister and sister-in-law came to visit later that afternoon. I was already incredibly bloated by the evening, and walking from the couch to the bathroom was excruciating. As I walked, I was a slow, hunched-over, crying mess of a woman. The Darvocet prescription I was given did nothing to alleviate the pain. I was not in pain from the procedure - I was in pain because the excess fluid on my abdomen was crushing my organs.<br /><br />Maybe now would be a good time to explain Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome for those of you who are fortunate enough to not have experience with it. OHSS may occur during or after a controlled ovarian stimulation for an IUI or IVF cycle. I have experienced OHSS twice - once during an IUI cycle which we were forced to cancel, and this time, which also caused us to cancel the fresh embryo transfer and postpone two months for a frozen embryo transfer. Symptoms can vary from mild to severe. Mild symptoms cause discomfort, while severe require hospitalization and have, in rare cases, caused death. Symptoms include collection of fluid in the abdominal cavity which causes bloating, shortness of breath, organ pain, possible organ failure, ovarian torsion, decreased urine, dehydration, dizziness, fainting, and vomiting. <a href="http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/2006/07/ohss.html">Here's a good article on the subject written by a woman who has experienced OHSS. </a><br /><br />By Friday evening, I was bloated, dizzy, fainting, short of breath, had very little urine which was tea-colored, and in moderate pain. Saturday, my symptoms worsened and I was in so much pain from severe bloating that I could barely breathe, while movement was excruciating. I fainted every time I tried to walk somewhere. That evening, my symptoms were worrying me and I decided to phone the doctor on call. I described my symptoms and she said that as long as I was still urinating and not vomiting I would be okay. She told me to stay on the couch and only move to the bathroom with assistance. She called in another prescription for Darvocet and some nausea medication. Sunday, the pain subsided a bit and only hurt when I moved, as opposed to constant pain, even when at rest. I did, however, faint about six times. <br /><br />Urination was painful and infrequent, but because I was urinating a little bit, I didn't think I was dehydrated. I was wrong. Very wrong. I wish someone would have described the symptoms better to either me or my husband. I would have gotten help by Saturday when I really needed it. Perhaps the hospitalization could have been avoided. <br /><br />Monday morning, I woke up and took two bites of an English muffin with jelly and promptly vomited - violently. I took some nausea medication and slept for a few hours. When I awoke, I called the fertility clinic and told them about my morning, but also told them that I was feeling better. Once again, I was told that I would be okay. My embryo transfer was scheduled for Wednesday. <br /><br />Kev brought me a delicious portabello sandwich for lunch at about 1:00. I was starving. I ate the whole thing. I took more nausea medication and went to sleep. Four hours later, I woke up and began vomiting violently. This time, it didn't stop. Thirty minutes into this frightening episode, I reached for the cordless phone and managed to dial Kev's office. Between retches, I begged him to come home and help me. He promptly left, but got stuck in traffic. Wonderful. When he finally got home, he called the doctor on call and she said that if the nausea subsided then I would need to take more of the nausea medicine. She said that I even needed to be woken up during the night to take it. She scheduled a visit to the clinic for the next morning, so Kev called my parents and asked them to come in to town to take me to my appointment since he had to work. <br /><br />I woke up to vomit at 3:00 AM. I didn't stop. Kevin woke up at about 4:00 and asked me what the hell I was doing in the corner of the dark basement with my head in a trashcan. I told him I didn't want to wake anyone up, but that I had now been vomiting for over an hour. He called the doctor on call again and told her that I needed to go to the emergency room. Escorted by my mother and father, I carried my giant white trashcan to the car as I continued to vomit violently. I have never experienced such extreme nausea and pain. I wondered if it would ever end.<br /><br />We got to the hospital at around 4:45. Thanks to the doctor on call, I was able to bypass emergency and be directly admitted - still puking into a mauve-colored plastic bucket - to the last room in the entire hospital. It was a double room, and my poor roommate had to listen to me vomit for hours. That's not to mention the poor man with whom I shared an elevator. I can only imagine what he must have been thinking when he heard my wailing and retching. At one point, I actually cried out to God to help me. <br /><br />There's more. Lots more. I'll finish up this story tomorrow. Stay tuned.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-28063872309041006402009-07-06T22:33:00.004-05:002009-07-06T22:58:06.715-05:00DANCE FOR MEI guess I should at least start to record my awesome fun-time carnival of IVF with ICSI.... Wait a minute. I mean egg retrieval and severe OHSS. So... <br /><br />Kev and I awoke bright and early to go to the hospital for egg retrieval on Friday. We had a very short wait - in fact, they called me in even before I sat down in the waiting room. I went potty like a good girl, then changed into the lovely blue open-back dress and was escorted to the staging area for surgery. I signed papers stating that I understood that I could die under the anesthesia, blah blah blah. They stuck me for the IV and blood shot all over the nurse, onto the floor, and covered my hand. I didn't see this as a good sign. I'm never nervous before a surgery, but I was now nervous for this one. Kev was allowed to come in, and he kept me entertained by spelling words on a calculator. "Boobs," "boobless," "shells." Then he kissed me goodbye.<br /><br />The nurses came to get me and told me that they would first give me something in my IV to relax. They said it has an amnesiac effect, so that I wouldn't remember anything afterwards. They assured me it was "the best margarita you'll never drink." The male nurse by my head squirted half of a syringeful of this magic cocktail into my IV. I shot the guy an inquisitive and worried look, and he assured me that he would give me the other half of the cocktail once we reached the surgery room. <br /><br />He didn't lie.<br /><br />Once we were in there, I was definitely feeling the effects of that "margarita." Feeling no inhibitions, I informed everyone in surgery that the room was pretty boring with all those lights and instruments, so I suggested that they dance for me to liven things up a bit. That's the last thing I remember....<br /><br />...Until I woke up and asked them if they danced while I slept. The very last thing I remember from that room is hearing the anesthesiologist say, "Holy shit. She remembers!"<br /><br />The best (er, worst) part is yet to come.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-47527760942734276542009-06-27T18:13:00.003-05:002009-06-27T18:14:42.043-05:00NO TRANSFERNo transfer. I'm still at an elevated risk for OHSS and another hospitalization. Instead, we are freezing the embryos and will transfer in two months, when I am recovered. I've been totally bummed the past few days. I may not update for a while.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-78707474254238329012009-06-25T06:41:00.002-05:002009-06-25T06:55:35.684-05:00A WHIRLWINDI am way behind on ICLW because I just returned from the hospital last night around 8pm. I was admitted at 4am Monday via the emergency room for severe Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome (OHSS). I will explain it in every gory detail at a later date - I'm still groggy and exhausted from my little adventure right now, so the details will have to wait. <br /><br />Update on embryo transfer: I will call the clinic today with a report of my progress and health overnight and we will determine from that conversation if I am well enough to handle the transfer today. It is very likely that my symptoms will quickly return upon transfer, so this is a very delicate situation. If we do transfer today, we will transfer two embies and I'm pretty sure we will have plenty to freeze for future cycles! I'm so excited!GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-82647782629978714242009-06-20T15:12:00.003-05:002009-06-20T21:43:38.310-05:001dperThank you for all the well wishes. The ER went smoothly. The doc retrieved 20 eggs. Did ICSI with ten and all ten made it through the first night, and the other ten were left to do the magic on their own. Four of those fertilized and one split, so we have fifteen total today! I am hoping for another good report tomorrow.<br /><br />I have severe bloating, pain, dizziness, and difficulty breathing. I am pretty sure I have OHSS to some degree, but the clinic is not open until Monday. I've just been resting since I got home yesterday, and that's what I am going to have to go do now. The dizziness has caught up to me once again. I don't want to faint again. <br /><br />Until tomorrow.<br /><br />Edited to add: I misunderstood. We have 16!!!GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-53975940525741344612009-06-18T06:33:00.002-05:002009-06-18T06:40:15.190-05:00SHOW & TELL - TOMORROW<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdbvpCSQxWTrh4tXnUrF_cHkjyXj_Yr9CilBLm7tmHn1sCiI18ndYBE0kOSpaLFdYxqTt1O4XRCRtOjRklo5EEY3oXwucH_aU6YzZMeEXnqGPLfYJg3kuP1518lFzqlZhBDJZcOmVjkBs/s1600-h/icsi_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 236px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdbvpCSQxWTrh4tXnUrF_cHkjyXj_Yr9CilBLm7tmHn1sCiI18ndYBE0kOSpaLFdYxqTt1O4XRCRtOjRklo5EEY3oXwucH_aU6YzZMeEXnqGPLfYJg3kuP1518lFzqlZhBDJZcOmVjkBs/s320/icsi_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348629695053440354" /></a><br /><br />Those are my plans for tomorrow. Wish me luck.<br /><br /><a href="http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/2009/06/57th-circle-time-show-and-tell-weekly.html">See what the other kids are showing off this week.</a>GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-13901634188934578762009-06-13T12:26:00.004-05:002009-06-13T12:46:54.530-05:00BREAKFAST FOR MY BRO<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDD2pGADsYmKEx5Jmi5nuyGeO9C2eauu8ZNgAVukt0-IudBnsvNZ9KCNX8WSfCs5_8L9rgR4TsYxNbOM17LbFchsAcjgSLYDR6wxhNTQEmO8hkelfmaCZsXU98Bh64vc4ZtUHEALysO8U/s1600-h/DSC_0020.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDD2pGADsYmKEx5Jmi5nuyGeO9C2eauu8ZNgAVukt0-IudBnsvNZ9KCNX8WSfCs5_8L9rgR4TsYxNbOM17LbFchsAcjgSLYDR6wxhNTQEmO8hkelfmaCZsXU98Bh64vc4ZtUHEALysO8U/s320/DSC_0020.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346866318390137074" /></a>Frozen banana pineapple cups<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLo6_Uzh89vjaiJ41OwYoLtyUAaHRicT-CpypRbxbIQ-3rqb0vqOjam7XkmwFloZJxkEFvgrFCzoPxZDGF7o1RX-c3d9ySwtruAI38OrCyYF632V58Aond7OeukUPevkSjgEXGhQrBk5kN/s1600-h/DSC_0028.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLo6_Uzh89vjaiJ41OwYoLtyUAaHRicT-CpypRbxbIQ-3rqb0vqOjam7XkmwFloZJxkEFvgrFCzoPxZDGF7o1RX-c3d9ySwtruAI38OrCyYF632V58Aond7OeukUPevkSjgEXGhQrBk5kN/s320/DSC_0028.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346865396686739010" /></a>Southwest soy-sausage and egg casserole<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2hgaRjx-bucSri2ECVboRaX-oudbHO5muwB9TJxUQOxU4Y1ACYLo7UAa0ytuu3gUQjGNXqfx4JYWjFXgVUs_oZYGuC6094gvhv47pC7069jw96CD0tcNi9sLMuwtybtfqxUdNfAmSjXTD/s1600-h/DSC_0018.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2hgaRjx-bucSri2ECVboRaX-oudbHO5muwB9TJxUQOxU4Y1ACYLo7UAa0ytuu3gUQjGNXqfx4JYWjFXgVUs_oZYGuC6094gvhv47pC7069jw96CD0tcNi9sLMuwtybtfqxUdNfAmSjXTD/s320/DSC_0018.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346865388301664722" /></a>Breakfast upside-down cakeGINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-59971973364593316132009-06-11T16:37:00.004-05:002009-06-11T17:36:23.774-05:00BLOGOVERSARY<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEs66r803hlGbhWza4_G9TrVzNGGLzQb1AvtSUl0_FP56SmcO5nAv617Syr4c2Ke4erCKh_nH0iXpzJXGgeAVNTeewrfTaduCmKZqf5h5tQpQ6cI7IjXm2qUEnKGkPRIE7cHZV1DZp6cHC/s1600-h/DSC_0020.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEs66r803hlGbhWza4_G9TrVzNGGLzQb1AvtSUl0_FP56SmcO5nAv617Syr4c2Ke4erCKh_nH0iXpzJXGgeAVNTeewrfTaduCmKZqf5h5tQpQ6cI7IjXm2qUEnKGkPRIE7cHZV1DZp6cHC/s320/DSC_0020.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346201438283921554" /></a><br />The one-year anniversary of this blog came and went in May without even a peep. <br /><br />I started this blog last year when we were beginning the first of three failed IUI cycles. I was very excited about the prospect of this blog quickly transforming into a chronicle of pregnancy, then of baby's first few years. Quite obviously, that did not happen. Looking back, I now see how naive I was about the success of IUI. I thought it was our magic answer. After all, we'd been trying for several years. We were DUE, right? <br /><br />Actually, I've been naive about this whole process - about all the treatments. With every new procedure or plan, I find myself calculating due dates and sneaking peeks at baby furniture catalogues. This time has been no different. Kev and I have already decided that we have a pretty good chance of having a baby (or two) on his birthday next year. And last night, I fell asleep envisioning what additions I'd make to the nursery if we were somehow fortunate enough to be blessed with twins. <br /><br />The word "naive" has such negative connotations. I think I need more positive language in my life right now. Maybe what I've got is not naiveté, but hope. Yes. Hope. That sounds better. But then again, hope can be dangerous, as I've found. If things don't go as I had planned, despair moves in where hope once resided. This is one thing I fear. That crushing despair can be so dark and lonely and consuming and convincing. It's this fear that has kept me from allowing myself to get as excited as I would truly like to be about our upcoming IVF. I am hopeful, of course. It's just a guarded hope. <br /><br />So with that same guarded hope, I'll continue to trace my journey on this road to baby. I will continue to blog about it with the hope that I will soon be able to transition into a pregnancy blog then a bouncy baby blog. <br /><br />And I <span style="font-weight:bold;">hope</span> to see good follies at my scan tomorrow too.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-90681043922325284932009-06-09T21:53:00.005-05:002009-06-10T14:56:31.154-05:00GIVE ME A GROWN-UP ANSWER, PLEASEKev and I decided to find a new clinic to do our IVF. When we interviewed the clinic, we met with a certain IVF coordinator - let's call her B. She was very professional and knowledgeable. She asked all the right questions and answered ours very much to my satisfaction. Having been working with a Reproductive Endocrinologist for three years, Kev and I are pretty up on the infertility lingo of reproductive mechanisms. B did not treat us like idiots. She didn't assume (as medical professionals sometimes do) that Kev and I don't have an intimate knowledge of the workings of the female anatomy - however broken mine is - and she spoke to us in just enough medical and lay terms so as not to offend or alienate us. We left feeling confident that B would do a superb job coordinating our IVF. Honestly, B had a large influence on our deciding to use that clinic (as opposed to the other clinic who didn't even know what questions to ask me - I ran!). <br /><br />I did NOT want to be bloated, slow, and moody for the hectic end-of-year rigamarole of high school English, so we decided to wait until summer to start stims and do the egg retrieval and embryo transfer. In the meantime, I got an email from some other lady - we'll call her C - saying she's new to the clinic and that she's going to be our IVF coordinator and do I have any questions. Uh, yeah. Who the hell are you? And, no you're not going to by my IVF coordinator. I met B; I trust B; B will be my IVF coordinator. It's not okay to switch on someone in a situation like this. There is just too much at stake. <br /><br />Ok, so I got that straightened out. B will be my coordinator. Done.<br /><br />Well, B called me last Monday to say that she would not be in the office on Thursday (the day of my first appt. for suppression scan, catheter measurement, drug order, protocol explanation, etc.) and that she wanted to tell me personally because I had specifically requested to work with B. I was okay with this since she called; plus, it was a one-time thing, and she assured me that she is going to be my coordinator. I was hesitant, but agreed. <br /><br />Upon my first meeting C, she went over the protocol for our IVF. It is called the lo-dose hCG protocol because I will be injecting a small amount of hCG along with Lupron and Gonal-F every day. This being my first (and hopefully last) IVF, I was confused about the hCG. In the past, I had always taken a very large dose of hCG to induce ovulation, so I wanted to know what function the small amount of hCG has. What does it do? How does it make my body react? Simple question, right? It should be for a professional. C looked at me, baffled, and proceeded to cough out some crap about it being a "helper hormone." I wanted to reassure her that she could speak to me in medical terms and explain to me what exactly it does in my body. So I told her I was just curious about what role it plays in the stimulation. She coughed a little again and spat out the same shit about "helper hormones" and then told me that it was okay that I was just confused. <br /><br />I'm confused?! No, no. I believe you're confused. I dropped it. She obviously didn't know the answer. <br /><br />When Kev arrived at the appointment, I told him about the interaction. He was curious as well, and decided that after the scan, he would ask her the same question after giving her sufficient time to find the correct answer (while in my scan). I was amazed that this time she said that she was confused (not him, not me) and again that it was a "helper hormone." Are you freaking kidding me? That's it? You've had fifteen minutes to either ask someone for the answer or look it up in one of the hundreds of medical reference books and databases at your disposal, knowing that you would have to see me again, and you didn't find the answer for me? <br /><br />I will just say that I am glad C will not be coordinating my IVF. She's a nice enough gal, but I need to trust that my questions can be answered professionally and to my satisfaction. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Should I say anything to B this Friday when I go back for my first follie scan?</span><br /><br />Wow. These hormone shots must be getting to me. I just realized that I've ranted about this for about an hour. I'm not usually this negative in my writing. Maybe it's a good sign that I'm cooking some strong, healthy eggs!GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-42287377169736061662009-06-08T21:02:00.004-05:002009-06-10T07:57:11.151-05:00HERON BY MOONLIGHT<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBV_Mv_9PehAUNbpnlndTFok4W0A57dyVSOvle0d5az4vZK3BgOQyhkoue5CltABsgnmodKLN8pyKXJASEjpy2PlPCweWNpqSGyQ1xKlr-PE3naMhDPe3-e_E4e5meT3lwMFXmPEOCTQzG/s1600-h/DSC_0270.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBV_Mv_9PehAUNbpnlndTFok4W0A57dyVSOvle0d5az4vZK3BgOQyhkoue5CltABsgnmodKLN8pyKXJASEjpy2PlPCweWNpqSGyQ1xKlr-PE3naMhDPe3-e_E4e5meT3lwMFXmPEOCTQzG/s320/DSC_0270.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345147305304904818" /></a><br /><br />It's been a while since I've posted a pic from "on the road," so here is one from Northwestern Missouri, captured at the lake my family retreats to once a year. <br /><br />Kev and I went with my mother, my sister, her husband, their daughter's boyfriend, and my great-niece and great-nephew on a moonlight fishing outing on the pontoon. The moon was beautiful, the lake was calm, and the critters were stirring. The little ones had fun pointing out marmots, snakes, and owls, while I was enchanted by this magnificent bird.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-76307606090910232352009-06-05T17:42:00.005-05:002009-06-06T13:37:06.168-05:00A MESSAGE FROM GOD?Every year, my family rents a few cabins at a little local lake that has been a well-kept secret for a decade or more. It's absolutely gorgeous, cost-effective, and relatively quiet. I don't know why more people haven't heard about it, but it's fine with me. I like having the sunset to myself. I like knowing that the cabins will be available next year on the weekend I want. I like being able to enjoy my family while participating in all kinds of outdoor activities. We camp, build bonfires, boat, fish, golf, play bocci, cook for each other, play board games, fly kites, walk dogs, play our own version of volleyball, and about a dozen more things. This year was no different. Family fun was had by all, and a few family announcements were made, as well. <br /><br />That's right. My nephew, who just got married two months ago, announced that they are expecting a tiny bundle of joy at the beginning of 2010. It's a wonderful thing! My nephew's new wife brings to the union a beautiful (and quite tall!) five year old princess from a previous marriage. With the promise of a new baby on the way, they are sure to be the perfect little happy family. And they're all just as sweet as can be. Which is why I hated the way I reacted when I heard the news. I simply said, "Oh, that's great!" and promptly left the room to keep from crying. I couldn't even squeak out the word "congratulations" before sneaking out. I wanted them to know that I am excited for them and that I think they are going to be wonderful parents together and that I wish them all the happiness in the world. I just couldn't say it. And now I feel like such an asshole.<br /><br />My sister-in-law saw how I was affected by the announcement, and she came outside to talk to me. She comforted me and assured me that she prays for Kev and me all the time. Sometimes people say this and you can just tell it isn't true. But somehow I knew that she was telling the truth. She went on to say that recently she has been getting the feeling that when she prays, she should no longer be praying for a child for us, but for peace instead. When she told me this, I about lost my mind. What it sounds like to me is that I will not have children, and that I need to find peace in my heart and accept this fact. Terrifying. She reassured me that this was not the feeling she's been getting, but rather, God has the babies figured out for us and we need peace until that happens. I hope that's all her message from God means. I am definitely not ready to give up trying to create a family. I am not giving up. I am not! I don't want to seek that kind of peace. <br /><br />I also explained to her that now that we're doing IVF, we will have to pull our adoption profile because we won't be able to afford both IVF and open adoption. She told me that she strongly feels that we are not supposed to pull our profile. She thinks that we are supposed to leave it in place and if we get matched, we will roll with it. She said we should not worry about the money, that the money is not important and that it will come if we need it. I hadn't considered this. I thought it had to be one way or the other. But, honestly, I like her idea better. I like keeping our options open. We've been trying to start a family for six years. I don't like closing any doors to that opportunity - no matter how financially prohibitive they seem. <br /><br />So I think that's our plan. We pursue IVF and keep our adoption profile in place. If we are matched for an adoption, wonderful! If we conceive through IVF, wonderful! If both happen at the same time... DOUBLE WONDERFUL! I can't imagine a happier answer to this infertility question we posed six years ago. <br /><br />For this idea, I would like to thank my sweet (and brilliant) sister-in-law. I would also like to thank God for giving her the grace to talk to me about this. I would also like to congratulate my nephew on their pregnancy. Maybe we'll have kids a few months apart. *Fingers crossed*GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-52880936891479928722009-06-05T00:01:00.002-05:002009-06-05T00:47:49.118-05:00BACK ON TRACK - A NEW TRACK, THAT ISI haven't been writing much lately and there is really only one reason for it: I haven't been writing for myself. I have found myself holding back from what I truly wanted to say out of fear that I would offend someone, that a reader would comment something I didn't want to hear, or that I would turn someone off by not writing what they wanted me to. Because I haven't been writing for myself, I have felt out of sorts. I haven't known what to write about. I haven't had many thoughts that I felt worthy of posting for this imagined judgmental audience that I dreamed would flog me for not doing what "they" wanted. I must be delusional. I have also felt that I haven't been honest with myself or with my readership. <br /><br />I probably wouldn't even have started this post had it not been for <a href="http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/2009/06/for-those-blogging-through-life.html">Mel at Stirrup Queens writing on this very topic</a>. I needed someone to remind me of the reason I started this blog. The point was to document my journey through infertility. To explore my thoughts, joys, questions, fears as I navigate my way on this (so far) heart-wrenching trip. Of course, I expected some people to come along for the ride with me - well, at least to read about it - but that's not solely who this blog is for. I needed to hear from Mel that transitions in regards to the world of infertility are worthy of blogging about. That transitions are hard but important. Which leads me to what I've wanted to write about for the past few months.<br /><br />During the course of writing this blog, Kev and I have gone from monthly Femara with injections of HCG and timed relations to a more aggressive hormone treatment and three failed IUI's to being approved for domestic adoption and waiting, waiting, waiting to our most recent additional plan for starting our family. It's a big move. We're moving on to IVF. <br /><br />Kev and I start stimming for IVF on Sunday evening. I've been taking Lupron injections for a little over two weeks, and this Sunday I add Gonal-F and low-dose HCG to the mix. I will give myself three injections per day for the first few days. This number of injections will likely be bumped up after my next scan on Tuesday. <br /><br />That feels good to get off my chest. I feel as though I've been holding back for you so you wouldn't get upset that I'm moving on to IVF. But that doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm writing this for me. I do still feel that I have to explain a little. Hopefully, this compulsion to justify my actions will go away again and I can get back to writing for real. <br /><br />This move doesn't mean that Kev and I are no longer exploring adoption at this time. As far as I can tell, we are still waiting. I do imagine, however, that there will be some of you who disagree with our decision to pursue IVF while waiting to adopt. This doesn't mean that if we are matched tomorrow that I would reject the match. Not at all! We would love to be matched and explore an open adoption with a birth mother. I hope that people realize that this move doesn't indicate our closing a door, but more of our openness to beginning our family by any means available. <br /><br />We've been trying to start our family for six years. We need to be able to explore many options. We need your support. We need your prayers. I need to be able to express my thoughts, ideas, fears, and joys through this process - through this transition - for my own peace of mind. Maybe this was the peace my sister-in-law was talking about last weekend.<br /><br />How wonderful! I now have something to blog about tomorrow: the advice I got from my sister-in-law last weekend.<br /><br />Thanks for the reminder, Mel. I needed to get back on track.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-68262457404588433282009-05-29T15:59:00.003-05:002009-05-29T16:06:02.035-05:00AN APOLOGY AND A PROMISENext month I am going to do a much better job with IComLeavWe. This time around there were just too many things going on. Mostly, it was the end of another year of teaching, which brings with it essays to grade, tests to make, files to clean out, books to count, and the list goes on. <br /><br />I didn't do a bang up job with ICLW this month. I only got around to returning a few comments, and I didn't reach my daily goal of comments to leave. It's not that I didn't want to be an active member of this community, it's just that the "teacher" part of my persona had to take over the "blogger" part and I had to get down to business. Therefore, my blog suffered. Terribly. <br /><br />But don't hold it against me for too long. I promise I'll do better. School is out for the next several weeks, and I will finally be able to take a deep, reflective breath as soon as I decompress.<br /><br />I'll be decompressing by spending the weekend with my entire family at the lake. Oh yeah. Sun, water, camping, food, games, love, kids, laughs... That's just what I need to get back on track.<br /><br />Have a great weekend, everyone.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-42149322619087575362009-05-28T15:34:00.004-05:002009-05-28T16:02:07.029-05:00INFERTILITY'S STORM<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho5KRMkzQDtq9M1_RTiQVa_UUnQkIg-OJbBMdPz_EQU_iskEHspJfFnuLJKPX7VNP7_oZwnstr-ayWC4H1PcNbXvS6c8_u1yIx1lA53bC_wm-1rEc1QCVAEDuC05OqmRoQlIDWSc676qYb/s1600-h/P1010188.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho5KRMkzQDtq9M1_RTiQVa_UUnQkIg-OJbBMdPz_EQU_iskEHspJfFnuLJKPX7VNP7_oZwnstr-ayWC4H1PcNbXvS6c8_u1yIx1lA53bC_wm-1rEc1QCVAEDuC05OqmRoQlIDWSc676qYb/s320/P1010188.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340982674396749490" /></a><br />Today my department had a potluck lunch to celebrate the end of the year. It was also a sending-off of sorts for our department chair who will be staying home next year to raise her son. <br /><br />Cue the jealousy. <br /><br />When I began working there, Kev and I had already been trying to conceive for two years. The chair and I became friends and she soon decided that she also wanted to start trying for a family. Of course, you can imagine how that worked out. For a couple of months, we shared our frustrations about OPK's, negative pregnancy tests, timing, etc. It was so nice to finally have someone to talk to who understood how complicated the whole process can be for some of us. Then she stopped talking to me. Until she announced her pregnancy, that is. <br /><br />Then I was suddenly on the receiving end of complaints of swollen ankles and morning sickness and not fitting into a favorite pair of jeans. I had to listen to the common woes of pregnancy that I would gladly give an eye for. And I listened and I was patient and I was empathetic and then I quietly went back to my room and cried. <br /><br />For the next year or so, I listened to stories - you know the stories - of growing babies. The chair was not the only person with a new baby at home. There are four children under 3 who belong to members of my department. It makes group lunches incredibly difficult to bear for a person who suffers with infertility. <br /><br />Sometimes I can stay the entire twenty minutes for lunch, but other times I can't even poke my head out my door. It's strange how infertility's storm of emotions can erupt with no warning. <br /><br />Now that her son is almost two, she has chosen to stay home with him. I don't blame her. I would have done it long ago. <br /><br />The position of department chair has been passed on to me. I hope the position of Mother follows suit.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6052573822349510779.post-44270138628493242162009-05-26T16:46:00.003-05:002009-05-26T17:53:40.286-05:00AM I CRAZY?Since beginning Lupron about six days ago, I've been a terrible person to be around. At least for Kev to be around. Poor guy, he can't seem to do anything right. But truthfully, I don't know if it's the Lupron that is making my fuse short or if it's really Kev being an ass. <br /><br />A few days ago as I changed my clothes, I looked into the mirror and began pouting and harumphing about. Kev asked what was wrong and I said that I felt that I had gained back all the weight I lost this spring. He told me that I should exercise more and I wouldn't feel that way. Oh boy, did I ever blow up! He's right, but I told him that what he had said was not helpful and that I just wanted him to say something supportive. <br /><br />Later that night, we went to his parents' house for a lovely dinner. Once we got home and I had changed into my PJ's, Kev asked me if I wanted to go over to a friend's house for cocktails. Um...NO. Not now! I'm in my PJ's! So he said he'd be back in one hour. One hour and fifty-five minutes later, he was still not home and hadn't returned my calls or texts. My mind started going crazy. I just knew he was in a ditch somewhere between our house and theirs. So I threw on my slippers and drove, looking down every side street for his abandoned car. It was now after midnight and I was totally surprised to see his car parked in front of our friends' house and all the guests were outside on the porch! Oh, the embarrassment. Kev was quick to insinuate that I had embarrassed him too. In fact, he called me a lunatic. And I was.<br /><br />The next day, Kev's baseball team came over for a cookout. I had grocery shopped, chopped, cooked, cut, plated, and prepped all day. Kev did not say two words to me the entire time they were here. They were here for seven hours. One of them actually said, "Man, it must suck being married." To which, Kev responded, "It's not that bad." Not that bad? Are you freaking kidding me? This is the response to the moron who just ate my food and is sitting on my deck under my patio umbrella and assumes that being married must "suck"? I expected my husband to put the moron in his place, but instead, they just continued drinking beer and exchanging misogynistic comments. When the last two idiots finally left, I had already packed our bags to spend the weekend with my parents. Kev got a tongue-lashing in the car as I drove his inebriated ass to my home town an hour away.<br /><br />And tonight Kev is going to a baseball game with some co-workers. When he told me that he'd have his phone on him at the game, do you think I believed that he would actually answer my call should I try to reach him? Do you think I believed him when he said he'd be home long before 11pm? I believe the last thing he heard was the sound of my slamming the phone down. <br /><br />I absolutely hate the way I'm feeling. Every little thing he's done in the past five or six days has been infuriating. I<span style="font-weight:bold;">s it the Lupron or is he being an ass?</span><br /><br />**As I was getting ready to publish this post, I heard someone try to open the front door. I ran upstairs to see which neighbor needed what. There was Kev, peering in through the crack in the door held in place by the chain lock. I opened the door, and he handed me a bouquet of flowers. He then proceeded to apologize for being an ass. God, I love that man.GINA and KEVhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02823452837222350546noreply@blogger.com6