Category Archives: Fertile Fudgery (Hizn)

no. 405 – Fixodent and Forget (?) It

I had what I choose to call an epiphany the other night as I was getting ready for bed. Trying to come to terms with what I want (another child) vs. what I will probably get (a subscription to Basking Weaving, You & You) is impossible. I’m sure there will be a happy medium in it somewhere. Maybe not so much happy, more so medium.

So that’s where you will find me: in the middle of the proverbial road. I’m like Fixodent: the cushy, sticky buffer between one’s sensitive gums and a set of hard, uncomfortable dentures, just trying to keep everything cohesive without allowing in some pesky poppy seed. Now imagine that’s how I am when it comes to Mr. DD and our Infertility. I am the buffer between him and what goes on in my clinic; what goes on within my reproductive organs.

I received an email from Leggy, who has been with me-with us-almost from the beginning. She nailed it when she wrote, "it seems like you keep having to drag [Mr. DD] along in the TTC ride and have to re-convince him each step of the way that whatever you pursue (IVF, DI, embryo donation, adoption) is worth the risks." I not only have to re-convince him, but myself as well. However, I have to admit the difference is is that I try to shield him from those risks, posing as poppy seeds, as much as possible.

He hasn’t been to the clinic in over 6 months, even though I have had three IUIs, a pregnancy, and a miscarriage in that time. It’s no wonder he feels as if he’s been written off. I should have made him come with me to the appointments, at least to the IUIs and to the scans for my pregnancy. He really should have been there to cry in relief with me when I saw that heartbeat that was there against the odds. And he should have been there to hold me when we found out Wolf was dying. I even went so far to beg for left-over drugs though generous donations of some wonderful friends just to lessen the financial burden, especially over this past year as we maintained two households.

It is my nature to protect him from the soul squeezing aspects of infertility, but in doing so I have alienated him from the process. I wonder at times if it doesn’t some how make it less real to him – our infertility and treatments. I’ve mentioned before how we shield X from as much as we possibly can, but in a strange, subconscious manner I’ve been doing it to Mr. DD as well.

We talked briefly the other night about what we might do next. As always, my approach was tentative and so brief, I could almost convince myself it was part of a dream. I know that he wants X to have a sibling since the mention of our son being an only child brings him literally to tears. It’s not how we envisioned our lives (who does?). We were as prepared as two adults could be for the exhaustion that comes with raising childREN. We were not at all prepared for the exhaustion that has come with infertility.

I have to turn over some of that burden or be crushed by it. I’m tired of pretending that I’m doing OK and that putting things on hold doesn’t bother me. It’s time for what I like to call, "a comin’-to-Jesus meeting". I will be calling our clinic once again and scheduling another office visit for both of us. He’s got questions and my answers are poo-poohed as he feels they are canned Google answers.  (Could that make them Poo-Poogled?)

I wonder then why am I scared to pick up my phone and hit the speed dial? It must be the Fixodent in me.

no. 399 – Anda 1, Anda 2, Anda 3…

It never seems to fail that a good purge makes things look just a little better (unless it’s one of those purges that follow scarfing down a whole pizza).

For all the doors that we have closed, and even the ones yet to follow, I have found myself making tentative steps towards the doors yet to be explored. Coincidently enough, CD1 was yesterday. Except it’s not CD1. It’s the beginning of my period (goofy side note: I never really understood that the first day of my period was the first day of my cycle. A period comes at the end so it took me forever to understand that concept. As a "brighter", I would recommend "Period" be changed to "Capital".).

After 9 months of having a "country home" and our "town home", we are a one-home family, complete with one-home expenses. Mr. DD’s relief is palatable. I do have to go back to the other house and dig up a peony – per our selling agreement – my mother gave me. It sounds silly to many, but my mother gave me this flower on my birthday after I mentioned how I wanted one.

NewbagI found a purse! Yippee! I’m sure that was keeping you all up at night.

I’ll be signing up for some classes at the Y. My weight finally tipped that mark I swore I would never let it go to. Did you know that "good genetics" actually have an expiration? No one told me, either. So after cruising through my 20’s and most of my 30’s without intentionally exercising, my genes turned. On the bright side, the lumps on my ass are not green and fuzzy, much like the mysterious item in the back of my fridge.

After much consideration, I have decided to go all out for my 40th Birthday in July. Yes, I will be planning my own bash. I love my husband very much, but we both know that the only one who’ll get he ball rolling is me. I’m even thinking of sending out "Save The Date" magnets.

Oh, yeah. It’s going to be B.I.G.  Okay, it may just end up being lots of cake, booze and fireworks since my birthday is Independence Day weekend.

Now for the big news: there will be no more treatments…for now (don’t let that stop you from voting on the poll =====>). I’ve decided that I don’t want to go on my beach vacation either on the let down of yet another failed cycle or waiting for another miscarriage. I don’t want to celebrate my birthday with the same possibilities. We have even agreed that we won’t even be "trying". No monitors, no pee sticks, no temping. Nothing. We are going with the concept that sex will be SEX. And what will that be like, you ask? You’ll have to find out through other means, because I don’t kiss and tell. Or whatever.

But here’s the cliff hanger: who remembers my brief mention of embryo adoption? Well, I never submitted the app fee or completed the bio. It looks like we will do at least that much now. Who knows what later?

no. 392 – Free Association (With a Cost)

Purse dilemma has not been resolved. Still looking. Have checked everyone’s suggestions and still am feeling "meh".

Do not take personally.

Serious question here for all of you. A very, very serious question.

What’s the first thing that pops into your head if I was to say, "We are not seeking any further infertility treatments."

Yes, I know. It’s only important what I think when I say this, but I do want to know what you would think if someone like me, who has blogged off and on about this, suddenly decided that’s it.

What would you think? What would you ask? What would you advise?

no. 279 – Careful, My Opinions Are Showing Again

Today will be our fourth day on stims (225/day) since we got the all clear on Friday. I was surprised when our RE said I wouldn’t have to come back for another US and lab until this coming Thursday. I remember during our first two IUIs and two subsequent IVFs that I was making that crappy drive, if not every other day, every third day, so this seems rather odd.

I find I still get very nervous holding that blue pen above my thigh and I have to lock myself away in a room (or closet) from all distractions in order to get myself psyched enough to drop the needle. When I’m done, I wonder why I got so worked up. Mr. DD has been very understanding about my nervousness and said anyone would feel the same with something sharp hovering over their bare skin. I suppose so, but it’s not like it’s the guillotine.

We’ve narrowed our selections to two "in-stock" samples. One has a confirmed pregnancy, but has blue eyes; the other has not yet had a confirmed pregnancy but has hazel eyes. No one in either of our families has blue eyes. One huge advantage to stock samples is cost. We only need to purchase one frozen sample. However, if we’d select from the bank, we would have to purchase a minimum of three, just in case during the thaw things turn to shit, there’s a back-up and/or to use later in case the same donor is wanted for a sibling. Another advantage to keeping our selection from stock, if after the thaw the numbers are crap we will not be charged for a subsequent thaw of a second sample. Plus we don’t have to worry about keeping some stored away as we are not interested in trying this again in a couple years.

Mr. DD and I were talking the other day and he said he doesn’t really care as much about the physical resemblance. It’s just no longer the huge issue it use to be. If we were to get so lucky to have a baby, he would love him/her no differently than he does X. For those of you who have been around us since close to the beginning, you know that this is quite remarkable progress. I am very proud of how he’s accepted this new plan. If I had the secret phrase or action that changed his mind, I would gladly share it with those of you who are where I was 6 months ago.

As much as he has progressed, I have stalled out in regards to how to handle disclosure. I still don’t dwell on it for long. We have to get pregnant first, you know? But I read something the other day that really concerned me and I wasn’t sure if it was my insecurities coming out again. Someone made the comment that they think donor information should be required to be on the birth certificate.

Mr. DD and I both agree that it would not be fair to either X or to a child born via donor to not tell them. But I strongly disagree that a donor’s name or that even the fact a child was born with the help of ART is anyone else’s business, much less the State’s, County’s, hospital’s, or even my obstetrician’s. The only requirement that is out there now is that the statistical information be reported for the CDC by the RE.

It’s not that I would be embarrassed by the truth, I just cannot see any possible advantage to it. Donor information has as much right to being on my – no OUR – child’s birth certificate as Santa Claus’s. For us, that would mean we would have to order a paternity test the moment a baby was born. We are not using donor because it’s our only option; we are using it because our chance of conceiving using Mr. DD’s sperm is considerably diminished, but not impossible. Who’s to say that if we get pregnant this cycle that the child would positively be the result of DUI? We’ve had three pregnancies already between the two of us, and only one was through ART.

I think if it was important enough for us to realize, after over a year, that any child we should be so lucky to have would be ours and ours alone, then it’s important enough not to flip-flop and demand a DNA test to prove it. I think that has the very unpleasant stench of hypocrisy in our position. Maybe this concept seems perfectly logical to someone else in our same position, and I applaud their forward thinking. But where does one draw the line? If DUI is on the birth certificate, why not donor eggs or embryos? Do we categorize the conception as IUI or IVF? Do we break it down by type of stimulation (clomid, follistim, gonal F)? That information is privy only to the professional who assisted and the family affected…IMHO.

no. 267 – Donor

As many of you know, before we ever considered DUI, we let our thoughts drift into the adoption option, especially since a couple of months ago DUI was not even allowed on the table.

I have researched domestic, international and foster-adoption and have tried to weigh out what pros and cons I could mentally list out. The one major hurdle I faced again and again was the aspect of open-adoption compared to closed. I mentally cringed each time I imagined the birth/first mother’s (sorry, but I don’t know which one of those terms is the most appropriate anymore) wish to be part of the child’s life long after the baby had come home with us. Not because I didn’t want to share, but because I imagined the bio-parent would change their mind and take back the child, even though I know that happens rarely. I would irrationally compare how I felt losing my baby at 15 weeks with losing a baby who was healthy, had spent time in our arms and our lives, and taken back on that sliver-slim chance. If you think I obsess about my miscarriage, picture me after something like that and make sure to include the room with padded walls.

Slowly I was realizing that the gripping fear had more to do with my insecurities and ignorance. In not being afraid to admit that, I was taking my own kind of baby steps.

But when we acknowledged DUI as a potential option, I regressed into that insecure girl, laying in a fetal position in the corner of my padded room, banging my head ineffectively on the floor. Remember when I had asked for reading suggestions on d0n0r blogs? I added a few to my bloglines, but there were two in particular that I gravitated to because they are written by men. Mr. DD has been expressing his concerns about this option passively and stoicly, but I can tell it lays heavily on his mind. I wanted to see if I could gain a little understanding of the male perspective, so I read.

I had no idea that the push was out there to not only tell your child that they were the product of DUI, but when they are mature enough, to give them the ability to know who the d0n0r was and even meet their bio-half siblings! It freaked me right the fuck out.

Why am I having a hard time with this? If we were to adopt, open or closed, I would without a second thought, share the birth-story with that child including their adoption.

And why is it not only the social norm, but wholly expected I would be open with my child about their adoption, but the subject of DUI is somehow different and even taboo to many? Logically, DUI should be more acceptable since the child is biologically related to one parent, right? I can certainly understand why Adoption may be more popular with the male partner, because as my own husband stated, he feels inadequate when he thinks about DUI. So then one might theorize that Adoption would be the more populor choice with our male partners, but how many of us have had that road block put in front of us as soon as we even think about Adoption? But why the magnified stigma on D0n0r? Why do I who openly admits to our infertility and miscarriages, am inhibited enough to protect my site from prying eyes when it comes to this?

How can I be an advocate for DUI when I struggle daily with these thoughts? Look at me! I am using “DUI” to refer to the whole business. I’ve obviously got issues.

But…

But, why am I tearing myself up about this when I haven’t even started a cycle; when I haven’t even taken the first stim injection; when we haven’t even got pregnant?! So, today I have decided to stop tearing myself down and fighting waves of panic. We’ll select an anon d0n0r, that is definite, but I really need to stop obsessing about something I may never have to make a decision about.

Our objective is to get pregnant and stay pregnant. Everything will work itself out from there. It always does, even if it’s in a way that wasn’t expected or even imagined. This will give me time to review all of our options and do the research as DI_Dad suggests.

no. 250 – Progress of Sorts

Well, alrighty then. Apparently you all know so much about me that you don’t want to take advantage of the one-time deal I was offering to ask me ANYTHING. YOU. WANTED. or maybe one year of blogging is no big deal in this day and age. It really doesn’t make me look forward to year number two…

I finally pulled Mr. DD into a brief discussion regarding the SCSA results, which I should clarify, were not promising. His 43% defragmentation (DFI) means our chance of conception naturally is "fair to poor". More specifically, they are poor. He wondered aloud if there was something he can do to improve the results, and there are…if he was a smoker or a drinker. One of the things we have considered that may be affecting the outcome is his 20 years’ exposure to the solvents and chemicals necessary in performing his job. This may seem like a no-brainer when one says "solvents and chemicals" but you have to take into consideration that they are required to work under certain safety conditions, including the use of respirators. But there are times I’ve seen him work without something as simple as a paper mask when sanding and painting "favors" out of our garage. Either way, I don’t believe another 90 days of complete health compliance is going to make much of a dent in the DFI.

The conversation was brief, to say the least. I didn’t want it to get heated or emotional. It was more of a "How was your day, and, oh, what did you see the results from SCSA?" He did ask how would we go about selecting a donor. I told him I really had no idea, and I have to say I felt optimistic that at least he asked about the process. It may have been nothing more than a casual interest, but the question was better than the alternative, which would have been terse instructions to forget about the whole thing.

Another teeny-tiny breakthrough regarding adoption was made last night. I would like to thank the show about Or*nge C*unty Ch*ppers as they were working on a bike for some fast-food’s dead founder’s adoption program. Yes, I will heed your warnings regarding programs such as that. I was just excited that he wondered what kind of kids there were, so he went to the website and we looked at some of the children. We oohed and aahed and made little comments about how much fun X would have with that little person or this sibling set, and to hear children screaming and laughing all day. But I was also a little weirded out by a related link on adoption that had "clearing house" tied to it. I knew they had clearing houses for shoes, linen, and tools, but not for babies.

So that’s how things are shaping up, or not, one year and one day later on my blog. Thanks to you who left well wishes on my anniversary post. *smooch*

no. 241 – 43.0%

That’s the percentage of Mr. DD’s DNA fragmentation index on the semen sample.  On the report that was faxed, there are three boxes under the Estimate of Overall Sperm DNA Integrity:

  • Excellent Sperm DNA Integrity
  • Good Sperm DNA Integrity
  • Fair to Poor Sperm DNA Integrity

SCSA Diagnostics’ representative marked the box in front of Fair to Poor.

Part of the report included the following sentence:

Excluding female factors of which we have no knowledge, routine IVF or preferably ICSI may be the most appropriate ART procedure for Mr. DD and his partner, due to the fair to poor %DFI.

Great. Since we already went that route – twice – it’s fair to say that IVF/ICSI was not the most appropriate ART procedure. And I honestly don’t want to do that again.

I called Mr. DD on his cell with the results. He was neutral about the news and I didn’t feel it would have been appropriate to nag him about how or what he feels until he’s had time to digest the implications. Sure, he said he would consider donor, but I have to tell you that in my gut, I don’t think even this poor result will inspire him to give DI anymore than a sideways look.

While waiting for the results, I couldn’t believe I ever wished it to be anything but excellent. But I did. I wanted the percentage of fragmentation to be the kind of number that would inspire Mr. DD to consider more than just what we are doing in the quest for another child. But now that that possibility is upon me – on us – I dread the thought of going back to The Metro’s clinic with the proverbial tail between my legs and admit that most people who go through infertility do NOT spontaneously get pregnant on their own.

Not only that, but I feel like I am not giving enough credit to adoption by making it my option-of-last-resort. I know we all have this list mentally in our head as to what lengths we are willing to go and that it always includes, "And if all else fails, we’ll do _______". I just don’t think I have the energy to go another year+ jumping through hoops and enduring more road blocks.

Maybe I’m getting a little ahead of the Negative Nelly that exists in my head nearly 24 hours a day and Mr. DD will shock the shit out of me and announce he’s willing to try DI.  Then again, maybe not.

no. 236 – Mondaze

I made it through the weekend without dissolving into a blubbering mass of tears. I did take a very hot bath Friday night and nearly passed out from the heat. If I had had a glass of wine, I’m sure Mr. DD would have found me doing an imitation of B. Spears’ video except without the bad extensions and perfect c-cup boobs floating about (my god, woman! what the hell have you been into that you can turn your bath water opaque?!). By the time I got out, I could barely stumble my way to the bed. My leg bones had been melted and were not very efficient at mobility.

As for Auggie, bless your lil’ hearts out there for thinking I should suck up the allergies (along with the accompanying snot and eye goo), but if it was just allergy symptoms I would go along for the guilt trip and move all 8 pounds of hair and 2 pounds of cat into the house. Unfortunately, I have allergy-induced asthma. If you’ve never experienced asthma, have your significant other sit on your chest for 30 minutes and imagine that’s how I feel when I’ve been exposed to animal dander. Being 39 and getting a tsk-tsk from my pulmonologist is rather disconcerting as well. The pleas for her adoption will continue to go out.

The container from SCSA was picked up today from my place of work where I had hoped it would act inconspicuous sitting in the corner of my office. Standing at two and half feet and shaped liked a ginormous suppository, it really wasn’t as inconspicuous as I had wished. "What is that?" was the question I fielded at least a half dozen times. It kind of took on a life of its own. One person actually guessed that it looked like something for a semen analysis. I rewarded him with an affirmative.

One friend asked and I told her she didn’t want to know. This person once told me knowing what kind of underwear another friend’s husband wore prevented her from every looking at him the same again. I figured she may find this kind of truth a little harder to deal with. When she foolishly asked again, I figured OK, you asked for it, and told her. Needless to say, she will never be able to look at Mr. DD the same again, either.

And maybe the following is a little TMI, so if you are feeling at all queasy or delicate (yeah, like I have "delicate flowers" reading my blog! har-har), but Mr. DD was telling me some of the details about the experience. The instructions state that once a specimen has been obtained in the little cup, it must sit in a dark area for an hour so it will become more viscous and easier to withdraw with the little bulb syringe and deposited into the three vials used for freezing and transporting. He said when he opened the lid after an hour, he nearly lost control of his gag reflexes when the aroma of the contents hit him. I said imagine morning breath with that added to it. I think I may have just done myself a huge favor there, ladies.

The lab promises results within a week of receipt. They will be sent to our physician, which is my OB/GYN. In some awful way, I hope that the results come back and show a high DFI. Anything under 30 and Mr. DD will never be able to accept any other attempt at getting pregnant except au natural. Donor Insemination will be O.U.T. and the adoption papers and notes will be permanently shelved. Of course, I wish everything to be normal, but if it’s not, it may give us answers to questions that have remained open for over a year now.

No. 231 – Not To Burst Your Balloons

Alright everybody…let’s all just settle down. I’m happy, but there’s no chance right now you will find me running around doing a happy dance. Mr. DD has said "Yes" before to a donor, and when it came down to crunch time, he changed his mind. Also, the reported affirmative answer was the abbreviated version. What he actually said was, "Yes, but using a donor just makes me feel…"

"Uncomfortable? Unsure?" I interrupt.

"Inadequate."

So there you have it. It’s the word I actually dreaded because how do you make a man NOT feel inadequate when it comes to this type of thing? I don’t think one can? I can’t even think of any blogger who has tried donor sperm. If you know of one, please let me know.

On other news: we picked THE hottest and most humid weekend EVER since the moment life was created in the boiling mud pits of yore to move into the new house. I have dripped sweat on everything that’s been packed and moved. I ache all over and my feet haven’t gone through this much torture since my Dancing Days.

No, Dirt Dude never did show up. We went ahead and had the gas company come and bury the line. If Dirt Dude blows his ass up (if he ever finishes the job), it will be his own fucking fault.

Well, I’m off. I just stopped by to update. Our new house is still missing some minor necessities, mainly TV and wireless hookup. We shall be living very much like the settlers from 200 years ago…except with air conditioning, garages, showers…oh, and let’s not forget: one awesome whirlpool tub, which happens to be beckoning my aching shoulders.

No. 230 – They Say the Darndest Things

When I have time, which unfortunately hasn’t been a lot, with the whole "trying to move into our house" thing, I’ve been researching adoption. I’ve briefly looked at Fos-Adopt, Domestic and International. All have pros and cons, as any of you know who have any experience with this.

I mentioned in an earlier post how this research has caused me to go into A-Fib each time I open a site and go through their Q&A. My concerns aren’t necessarily with me, even though just the thought of filling out gobs of paperwork and trying to locate both of our birth certificates among the boxes of non-essentials that were packed months ago causes me to claw at my throat in an attempt to open my constricted airway. Instead it’s the interview example questions that agencies may ask us, or more specifically, ask Mr. DD. What could he possibly say? Well, he just may answer the question, "So…why do you think you want to adopt?" with "Because all my friends and family tell me that if we adopt, we’ll get pregnant!"

I’m not kidding. Ok, maybe just a little.

Last night as we were eating dinner, Mr. DD asks me straight out of the blue, "What do you think of  surrogacy?"

"You mean getting a surrogate to carry a baby for us?"

"Yeah."

"Seriously?!! Do you know what that means?"

"Yeah," he indignantly replies, "It’s where a third party carries part of me and part of you, which is called a baby, through a pregnancy."

I’m picking my eyeballs out of my rice where they had fallen, right after my jaw slapped into my plate.

"Do you understand how expensive something like that is? It would be like paying for an IVF for two people!" [Based on some googling today, I’ve seen costs for reasonable surrogacy of anywhere  from $64,000 up to $100,000. See that? 1,2,3,4…5 zeros!] "I don’t think me carrying a pregnancy to term is the problem. It’s getting pregnant with a viable fetus. We’re either looking at your sperm; or my eggs; or the combo of both of them together being shit questionable."

So then we discussed the semen-analysis-that-wasn’t. We had decided a few weeks ago that we weren’t going to do the standard count/motility/morphology (cmm) analysis. We’re pulling out the big guns and doing Sperm Chromatin Structure Assay (SCSA). A cmm really doesn’t predict the probability of a successful pregnancy except to say the higher the numbers and percentage, the better your odds. A SCSA instead looks at the fragmentation of semen’s DNA, which if the DFI (DNA Fragmentation Index) is greater than 30%, our odds of conceiving either naturally or IUI/IVF w/ICSI are low regardless if he was Super Sperm Producing Man.

Now we haven’t done this test, either, because I figured if I wasn’t ovulating, there really was no point in doing the SCSA, and that I would keep dropping hints about adoption (even if I had to eventually force him to read several blogs about adoption to keep him from saying something that would make us appear quite insane).

But here’s where the conversation got really strange, as if it couldn’t get stranger:

"So," I tentatively ask, "if the SCSA comes back with a high DFI, would you be willing to reconsider donor sperm?" …and I hold my breath just in case the implosion of his head would suck all remaining oxygen from the atmosphere…

…keep holding…

…turning purple…

"Yes."

No. 199 – Where I Say the Dirty 5-Letter “R” Word

Well, it’s officially been a year. A year since our doc referred us to the RE after he reviewed Mr. DD’s SA with us, which to him was borderline. I took his word only and had nothing to research until recently. I had requested a copy of our chart from the RE and once in my grubby paws, I settled in to do some research on normal ranges for SA.

I quickly realized that Dr. Google’s take on male infertility vs. female infertility is as different as…well, Mars and Venus.  There are little to no variances on what research considers "normal" on SAs (and maybe not so much when it comes to the chemical/hormonal ranges for women) but holy crap! let me just state for the record, it’s a good thing Men don’t have ovaries/uterus as well. Women really are complicated creatures through-and-through.

Below is a little chart I created to show how Mr. DD’s little guys shape up ("PS" indicates Post Spin):

5-Jun 6-Aug 24-Sep "Norm"
Vol 1.5ml  2.4ml  2.3ml  1-5ml 
Conc              27M  5M  >20M 
Ttl Ct 27M  65M  12M  >40M 
Mot 50% 36% 40% >50% 
Mot Ct              23M  5M  >20M 
Fwd Pro              26% 34% >50% 
PS Vol N/A  .4ml  .4ml  N/A 
PS Conc N/A  2M  1M  N/A 
PS Ttl Ct N/A  800K  400K  N/A 
PS Mot N/A              1             1 N/A 
PS Mot Ct N/A  700K  300K  N/A 
PS Fwd Pro N/A              1             1 N/A 

Not overly impressive, is it? And what the fuck is up with the huge variances in the Ttl Count row? Is this not proof enough that men should have more than one SA done during the course of IF treatments?

I am a little miffed that the SA was not available for the two IVFs, and I haven’t called the clinic to see if anything was documented by the lab. The June date indicates the SA done here in Small Town; the other two dates are related to the two failed IUIs.

Since I am in the first few days of menses (yes, it appears I ovulated somewhere around the 10-12th of May, but didn’t start spotting until the 27th with CD1 official on May 28th), I reminded Mr. DD it would be a good time to get this next SA out of the way before I ovulate again. He thinks that if I know the results prior to trying to get pregnant, I won’t have faith that it could work. I suppose in a way he’s right.

But here’s what’s been pretty interesting: when I ovulated a few weeks ago, we didn’t try. I just wanted a month off after the 2nd IVF to not have to hope and worry and hope some more. I was just too fucking tired. And from those posts from the first couple weeks after April 25’s BFFN, I was a loon! and in no mental shape to keep spinning in circles. There were no peeing of sticks even when I knew that my period was late because there was just no way I was pregnant (depression does quite the number on one’s libido!). Do you have any idea how good that felt? No. Probably not, but my god, it was good for my soul.

Maybe by finally accepting that it’s not going to happen, I can finally RELAX! Yes! I said it. I’ll burn in IF hell, I’m sure. But if you really knew me, you’d know that I will still hold out a little hope and that we will keep "trying", probably until the day one, if not both, of us is on one of those morphine drips surrounded by X and his 14 children.

Everyone’s a Winner!

I’ve had a couple of days to cool down from the other day when Mr. DD extolled the brilliant idea about us trying naturally to conceive, which honestly, I find a waste of time. But…I have to admit, I need some time off from what has been eluding us now officially a year. My life has become categorized as cycles and that’s not what I want to reminisce about my late 30’s.

So many IF blogs talk about their seek for a baby as a roller coaster ride. I’m sure I did, too. It’s not. I have found this past year to only be a merry-go-round. A roller coaster takes you to great heights, where you feel giddy with excitement and possibilities, and then plummets back down into failure and loss. Instead, I feel we have gone round and round, with each full rotation equally a cycle. At first the the hard fiber-glass horses appear full of life, frozen in high-stepping trots, but after sitting on them for a while, you see the chips and the cracks in the horse’s finish, the seat becomes unbearably hard, and you notice how many lights under the canopy have burned out and been neglected. I came close once to the brass ring when my beta came back positive exactly a month ago, but it slipped out of my fingers and fell to the dust below. I’m getting dizzy and it’s time for me to check out the rest of the carnival for a couple of months.

I am still waiting to talk to Mr. DD about a compromise, but I can never seem to get very far into the conversation without him accusing me of how I think he is being incapable of producing a child without medical intervention. He’s hurting and I’m hurting. He even said that it was a good thing I didn’t know about the MFI (Male Factor Infertility) when we started trying in 2001, or we would’ve never had X because of how dependent he seems to think I am on professional assistance. I’m willing to try w/o Dr. Blinksalot and medication for a couple of months, but I want him to agree to either a 2nd IVF or a sperm donor *if* that doesn’t work within a certain time-frame.

So to help remind ourselves that our love is not there strictly for procreating, we will try to re-connect with each other as husband and wife. We’ve already planned a brief vacation in Vegas late March in correspondence to some business travel.

Thank you for your input on why you think bloggers stop blogging. I find the thought of someone blogging only to resolve an issue and then stopping when that ONE issue has been resolved rather sad. I never knew I would form bonds with so many of you, but I have. I’m sure everyone has in their own way, so when these bloggers stop, do they quit the relationships they started? I would feel used if I routinely tried to provide support to a blogger, whether it be within the comments or seperate emails, if that blogger just stopped. "Used" seems like a strong word, but it’s the best I can seem to come up with.

Plus, I figure if one issue was resolved – getting pregnant, doesn’t that bring on the next issue – pregnancy? And doesn’t that lead to trying to raise a baby, toddler, preschooler, adolescent, and so on and so forth? Those are all buggers in their own right, and if someone sought out blogging support for one, why not the other, even if it meant your audience could and probably would change?

So, no, I’m not going anywhere, even if you were secretly hoping I was bailing. Yeah, I’m talking to you, Cricket, you little snip. But if you are willing to continue to put up with my butchery of the English language/spelling, and provide support when needed (because I’m a Comment Whore), I’m willing to put up with any and all assvice, advice, and anything in between.

OK, …let’s go get us some funnel cakes and warm beer, and please don’t tell the carney your real name for fuck’s sake!

Call 555-SPRM to Become a Donor Now!

I made a phone call to a fellow co-worker today and got her voice-mail. This is how it basically went: "This is Jane Doe and I’m not available right now. Please leave a message and I will return your call. If you are calling with college football tickets, you may call me at home at 555-1234 or on my mobile at 555-9876."

That gave me a brilliant idea! I am going to change my voice mail to basically the same except I am looking for sperm donors. "If you would like to donate sperm, you may reach my RE at 555-SPRM." It’s brilliant! However, I’m thinking for as unprofessional I found the voice-mail about tickets, I think someone would surely find my new message a tad inappropriate. Fertiles can be so uptight. I know. I once was one.

Even though the idea may have crossed my mind, at this point, Mr. DD has got to come to terms with this "Male Factor" thing. He has taken the expected position that I’m sure many men side with when faced with the fact that HIS sperm is just not able to cut it and potentially someone else’s might. What makes this harder for him is that up to a year ago, there was no male factor.

For Mr. DD, this raises more than just a concern about what has always been the inside joke of the male populance, which is the ability the little guys have in swimming. He fears that he may never feel that it’s HIS baby if we were to pursue and find success in the use of a donor for an IUI. I cannot even fathom such a thought. To me, any baby foolishly left unattended long enough for me to sneak it home would in a instance become mine. That’s why I could easily entertain adoption. Unfortunately, the fact is that at this time with Jerry voicing without question how uncomfortable he is with a donor, he has nixed adoption as an option.

I know that it is prudent for me at this time to back off. Mr. DD has a tendency to dig in, much like E’s recent stand with Mare. To Mr. DD’s relief, we currently are under no restrictions, e.g. the Pill, a drug-induced schedule, etc. We actually get to go back to the old standby, and that’s doin’ it the old-fashioned way, at least until we decide what type of intervention we will need IF we should need it.

I left Jerry with this thought to mull until we meet with our RE on the 24th and that is being a father is more than DNA, and he knows that in his head. It’s his heart that needs to be convinced. Case in point: a friend of mine has a son from a relationship with her high-school sweetheart, Rob. 10 years later, she married her soul-mate, Tom. She considers Tom her son’s dad. Rob, the biological father, was the sperm donor. I found that very profound. I can only hope Mr. DD does, too.