9 Lives

 

Of course I'm excited about moving forward with our second transfer. I can't wait to get to Knoxville and meet some (all?) of our remaining embryos! It's bittersweet, though. Preparing to go back reminds me of the four embryos we lost last time. Two of them I met, and they were apart of our lives for an unknown number of days. Two of them died in thawing, so I never met them or saw their picture, and the only connection I have is their vials.

My finite mind can't dwell on nervousness or what might be or logistics of how the transfer could turn out. God knows each embryo before they were knit together in a laboratory and knows if they will continue to grow in a womb or if they will be reunited with him. His ways are higher than mine. If it were up to me, a lot of other things would have worked out by now, but that is obviously not His plan.

God, thank You for being the Giver of life and the Creator. Thank You for giving life to the nine embryos we've adopted. I trust Your ways and Your thoughts. You know the desires of our hearts. We cannot do anything without You. In Jesus' Name, Amen.

Just A Boring Update

The residual pain from my biopsy is gone. I can only hope my immune system is staying focused and preparing my body for the embryos it will house in about 2 1/2 weeks.

I am happy to be back on estrogen along with the l.upron. I'm not in an empty fog anymore. I'm pretty much back to normal, minus a couple hot flashes. I will double the estrogen on Tuesday, so I'm expecting this week to end with a fatigued and swollen self. We'll see!

The novelty of the cycle is gone the second time around. I'm less nervous so less obsessive about the protocol. The less I obsess, the less connected I am, and the more I go through my normal routine. Time is flying by much more quickly this time. 

Mirror, Mirror

Most of my baseline appointment was pretty much a mirror image of cycle one. There was a giant wreck on the interstate (semi rear ended a SUV), and traffic was a nightmare (like last time). The clinic didn't receive my results, so I had to hunt them down (like last time). I still have lots of PCOS cysts, but none that will interfere with the cycle (like last time). My estrogen was good and low at 49 (41 last time), and my lining was good and low at 3.7 mm (3.9 mm last time). If nothing else, at least my body is being consistent. Hopefully my lining will build well like last cycle, too...

What wasn't like my baseline appointment was that I had an inhumane endometrial biopsy (also called uterine scraping, or scratching) done. Supposedly it can increase success by 50%. The thought is the injury to the uterus will cause inflammatory response with lots of white blood cells and other cells coming to the area to heal things. The consequence of that is a more receptive uterus for an embryo. It seems a little counter-intuitive when you first think about it, but on a cellular level, it makes sense.   

So, if the immune response is what helps, I should have an awesome response. As the nurse practitioner finished she remarked, "I got a lot of tissue". Yes, yes you did!! The procedure was, to me, extremely painful. I should have gotten scared when she said, "Have you had this done before? No? Well (pause), just make sure you breathe slow and deep". It started out like an average pap smear and suddenly, before I knew it, half of my insides were suctioned out. It's barbaric to think they do something like this with no sedative and no narcotic! I levitated off the table and was not embarrassed in the least that I started crying. Either I... A) have a low pain tolerance, B) have a uterus that hates suctioning catheters, or C) have a practitioner that needs to get with the 21st century and utilize some pharmacology for this thing!

A funny side note... as I was glazed over in the waiting room, waiting impatiently to start my appointment, a sweet couple was there for the first time. The wife gazed out the penthouse window at the panoramic view of the Big City skyline and said, "Oh what a great view!". The husband joined her at the window, cooing at the scene. I wanted to yell, "Yes, enjoy the view. You will pay for it soon enough! You have to swipe your card before you walk out of this place". Some people pay to go to the top of the Empire State Building or Sears Tower... and some people pay their fertility clinic for an urban skyline view.

Tomorrow I start estrogen, which means the pill cutter will come back out tonight. I start half a tablet twice a day, gradually going all the way up to three tablets a day. I'm still on l.upron for about another week.

Somehow I am still finishing up the last little bit of my cycle one l.upron bottle, so either it was a little fuller than it said on the package, or I am not using quite enough. There should be 28 doses in the vial with the dose I am on, and I have gotten 29 doses plus probably another tonight.  I had the opposite problem with PIO- it seemed I was going through it more quickly than the pharmacy said I should.

Standstill traffic with a billboard memo "2 Center Lanes Blocked"... great!; Revive Punch to make it through the day; a disturbing picture next to my procedure table at the doctor... what in the heck does it mean? Is this how couples feel conceiving a child in a doctor's office? I don't know. I'd settle for some ocean views over chubby bare thighs next to my head any day!

Why yes...

Why yes, I'd love to work 12 days in a row, in sudden menopause (on l.upron), with a 6 hour training and a uterine scraping thrown in for kicks.

hold on

Swirling Thoughts

The contract (or open donation agreement, ODA) was mailed Thursday and arrived to our mediator Saturday. I have realized that, just like the fact that your bladder plays an important role in having a child, apparently, so does the post office.

I online bank, so I don't generally send much mail. I do enjoy sending pick-me-up cards to people, but I have a book of stamps in my purse for that. However, I have been to the post office more for this adoption process than any of time in my life, I think (except maybe for living at college and having a PO Box). Sending applications, sending documents, sending checks. Who else routinely goes to the post office to have a child? It's pretty humorous!

I should feel more hopeful than I do. I think- self, we have two great donor families and five more embryos, so why is there room for trepidation? Still, I booked the hotel for next month, but I don't feel that excited. I was at least 90% hopeful last time. I can't quantify my hope this time, or maybe I just don't want to.

Prior to last transfer, I thought it had to work because I was so tired, and I didn't know if I could keep going. But here I am. We've rematched and I'm back on medication. The initiative came when I wasn't sure it would.

This time, I feel it has to work because I am afraid if it doesn't, I will cross the line into bitterness and anger. I have felt slighted and that things are unfair, but I haven't really been angry. D has always said I have "the gift of understanding"... which I think is why, in my life, I am rarely angry. I can normally see both sides, see the grey, see the viewpoint behind an idea I disagree with. Whatever the source, I am rarely really angry. Yet, I feel deep anger welling up in me. My faith remains intact, but it's mingling with anger.

Almost a week into the medication, and I feel about the same as last time. L.upron + birth control=a resounding sadness and flatness for me. For a few minutes, I forgot I was on the medication. I thought about maybe starting an antidepressant because, although I have moments of hope or anger as described above, overall I feel a nothingness and emptiness. But then I remembered this is thankfully a temporary side effect of a nasty little shot.

I took my last birth control last night, so if this cycle repeats the last, I will have hot flashes next (pretty scary considering TN is in heat-wave mode right now with such heavy, humid air it knocks your breath away when you walk outside). After hot flashes come water-logged (swollen) fatigue, which is followed by hulk needles and meeting some more embryos. 

Oh embryos. Five embryos in a freezer. Since 2007 and 2009, respectively. Potential lives. Potential dirty diapers and snotty kisses.

I guess there is still some hope.

Expectations with Social Media

This has really nothing to do with adoption, and is more of a soapbox related to parenting.

I find myself thoroughly annoyed and almost angry at the expectations social media brings to parenting.

Exhibit one: Someone has a baby. People post pictures on Facebook BEFORE the parents themselves have done so. (True story)

Exhibit two: Someone has a baby. The minute the baby is born, people begin demanding to have pictures of the baby posted (er, they do use the word "please"... but the multiple statuses lack "Congratulations" or "I hope you're recovering well and enjoying time with little one".... just "Hello, pictures please"). (True story)

People have lost all couth.

Many parents choose to have their kids on social media. That's not a wrong choice if that's what they decide. But it is not your place to decide it for them. And, just because we are all harmoniously tied together on Facebook does not give you the right to expect to be involved in every intimate detail of each others lives.

Please have some manners, boundaries, and plain ol' common sense!

A Matter of Life and Death

When everything is meant to be, I guess it really just comes together.

Our donors had their call Monday night, we had ours Tuesday night, we received the draft contracts this morning, both couples agreed to it by the afternoon, and we've already had ours notarized. It's scanning to email as we speak (or as I type).

It was quite moving to get it notarized. It was nothing about the paperwork itself (although the notary remarked she hadn't done an embryo transfer today... ha! Probably hasn't done one since we were last there, and may not do one again for awhile).

There was another couple there, middle aged. The wife was quite tearful... because her dad died today, and she was there to see about his life insurance policy in order to make arrangements (the notary is an insurance agent). Talk about contrast between the earliest stage of life and the last stage of life. Both of us sitting awkwardly in a cramped office together. They are having to let go of their loved one, and we are still searching for ours.

It reminds me that as desperately as we seek the things our hearts desire, life is a vapor. I can't wish my life away. I can pursue parenthood, but it cannot consume me. My life could end in a moment, as could the child I hope to one day have. Of course, it would be quite morbid to only have that perspective, but that is an important perspective to have.

Proud Parents, Again

Our conference call went well, and we are matched with two little embryos with Family C. This leaves us at a total of 5 embryos in the freezer (3 remaining from Family A, and 4 embryos in heaven, not be left out of the count). 

I started l.upron tonight, so this update came just in time. Oh, how this all has tested my faith! I am a planner and do-er. To plan on a cycle without knowing until tonight that we are, indeed, matched, is against every grain in my body. 

I still feel like I'm on the Bachelorette. It's the weirdest feeling to have two simultaneous relationships with the possibility of either, neither, or maybe even both families' embryos becoming our children. Maybe we'll have twins with Family A, or maybe just one kid. Or maybe no kids with Family A. Or maybe twins or a kid with Family C, or maybe just one kid. Or maybe no kids with Family C. Or maybe twins, one each from Family A and Family C. Maybe there is even a Family D out there we don't know about (Oh, I sure hope not!)?

In this mental chaos, I am humbled to know not one but two families have gladly donated their embryos for us to adopt. They have allowed us to have the opportunity to be parents with their tiny embryos that they went through IVF hell to have. They have graciously given us a gift I can't comprehend at times. They look at their children every day, genetic siblings to these embryos, and choose to bless us with the chance to experience what they have.

A lot of days I wish I wasn't in this place- I just want to have child the old-fashioned way without the medical and financial and ethical complications. But if I have to be in this place- and here I am- I am beyond blessed. To be matched. To be matched with two families. To be matched with two families who are selfless, thoughtful, supportive, warm, and open.

Maybe this is why nothing has worked out so far. Maybe we are supposed to be parents to one or more of these embryos (and maybe not; I have to prepare myself for either outcome). At least I know I meant to release some souls to heaven, so they aren't stuck in a freezer, because that has been accomplished, if nothing else.

Friday the 13th

Yesterday was Friday the 13th, and a full moon. As the media put it, "superstitions collide". I'm not superstitious about many things at all. On that note, yesterday went pretty well for us!

We heard back from the lady who does the contracts. True to form, she sent us great details about Family C. They seem so warm and friendly. Through her, they forwarded more pictures of their too-cute kids.

I feel so blessed to be able to match with both Family A and Family C. I wish we didn't have to match twice, but out of all the families, I think we found the perfect match for us twice.

Family C will have their contract conference call Monday night, and we will have ours Tuesday night. At that time, we'll receive more details on the family such as the journey of the embryos. We will also ask to be able to directly communicate with Family C from this point forward, as we've been doing with Family A.

Whiplash

I have whiplash.

Not, not from getting sidewiped by a hit-and-run driver yesterday (although that did happen... thankfully I'm okay, the car is okay, and I didn't have any embryos along for the ride).

I have whiplash from just another day in embryo adoption.

This morning we heard back from our clinic that the family we'd asked to match with (Family B, for clarity) did accept us but would not consent to "mixing" (if we were to have only one of our original embryos make it, we'd need to "mix" by adding an embryo from the second family). I can respect that viewpoint. It obviously isn't one we share, though, so we weren't able to be matched.

Failed match. 

I then called the clinic to discuss removing our two previous parameters (mother's age and one physical characteristic) and asked her to send all the remaining multicell profiles that would allow for mixing. This amounted to seven more profiles (for a total of 24 profiles we've viewed during this process).

As our custom, D and I were quickly able to narrow down which families we may be comfortable with and picked our favorite. I emailed the clinic back to let her know who we'd like to match with and expected to have a several day wait to find out.

Approximately 2-3 hours later, the clinic was pleased to let us know that they contacted Family C, and Family C was game for a match.

Match made.

Family C seems very open (they included a large amount of pictures, much like Family A). Also like Family A, they are an unknown but close distance from us, so hopefully they will be okay with that. Family C has two multicell embryos, which, added with our current trio, will bring us to five embryos.


Next steps will be securing contracts, which involves more phone calls to negotiate contract terms and notarizing our "property transfer" so the embryos can officially be "reserved" for us. We will know more in the next few days. Which is comforting to me since the real medication sprint starts next Tuesday!

Back on BCP

I've been back on birth control pills for about a week. The last pack was not my last pack ever, unfortunately. I start l.upron, the little stomach shots that put me into menopause, in about a week.

We still haven't heard back if the donors have accepted us. We hope to hear back very soon, or we will ask to select another back up donor.

It's 35 days til our potential next transfer.

Guest Blog at NRFA

My guest blog was featured today at NRFA (National Registry for Adoption). This new website links prospective embryo donors with prospective adoptive families. It's like a match[dot]com for bringing the respective two parties together. One of the founders is a mom through embryo adoption, so I think that adds a lot of heart to this service.

If I hadn't lived so close to NEDC (my clinic) I would have considered a private match through a service such as this. I hope this service will continue to grow and be helpful both to families who want their embryos to have a chance at life and to families who desperately want a child.

Without further ado... please go check out the blog (and take a look around the site!).

Some Days I'm Just a Shell

Every day is different.

Some days I am hopeful. This next cycle has to be it.

Then I remember that's what I said last time.

And I realize we are in the same place we started. We've walked around a lot. But we returned to where we began. Tired. Unsure. Empty.

I haven't been mad at God yet, but I absolutely don't understand.

This experience radically changes the way I view the world.

Some days I become a shell. So much has escaped me. I have no control.

How many years should be spent in the pursuit of a child? Am I letting my life pass me by while I seek a blessing that may not be for me?

Every day I see, firsthand, people who are blessed with children that disregard them.

That's a deep thing to grapple with. It spawns questions deep in your core.

They Get Away With It

I don't understand how insurance companies get away with it. Maybe because there aren't enough people advocating for themselves, so they just do?

 

Men can have viagra and vasectomies on an insurance company's dime, but infertility treatment is a shunned category in the majority of health coverage. I don't see where the functioning of a reproductive system is different than the functioning of a sexual organ, and I don't see where reproductive systems are okay to treat in cases of contraception but not okay to treat in cases of conception (If it matters, I am fully in support of insurance covering contraception, but feel like conception should also be included). 

The Bachelor and Embryo Adoption

I feel a bit like I am a contestant on the Bachelor (or the Bachelorette). 

See, D and I have picked a back-up donor family we'd like to work with. Now, the clinic will contact the family to see if they want to match with us. They will get some pictures of us along with a short profile we sent. I honestly forget what pictures and what information we gave to the clinic back earlier this year, so I'm not exactly sure what they'll be seeing.

This family has 4 multicells which would give us, again, a total of 7 to work with (they also have two blasts that couldn't be used this cycle).

Last time it took about a day and a half to hear back. I wonder how long it will take this time. We're going into the weekend, so I expect it will be next week at the earliest.

I didn't realize how hard this would be. Luckily, D and I are likeminded on what we're looking for, so the selecting part is easy. We can pretty easily narrow down what we are comfortable with and what we aren't.

What is difficult is to know we've had to select a second family when we still have embryos with the first family. It almost feels like being on the Bachelor or something. Two relationships, two potential outcomes, so much unknown. I don't like the feeling. It's so weird to be in this limbo of not knowing.

What a Day!

The morning started out with taking (and thankfully, passing) a professional licensure exam, so I am now a LCSW. Wohoo! 3 hard years of work, and I finally have it. It's so strange to be anticipating it for so long, and I now suddenly have new letters after my name.

I always said I wanted to have my LCSW the time we had kids. I had several delays with the testing process, and obviously have had several delays with the whole kid process, too, so maybe I got what I wished for...

This afternoon has consisted of an email with profiles. Yay, right?? This should compound my joy, but I'm honestly just frustrated. The profiles that were sent to us will likely only afford us a second try, and I want to think further than that. I hope we don't end up with multiple more tries, but I'd like to use our money wisely (as well as just time and emotional energy) in case we do.

The whole embryo coordination was the worst part of cycle #1. The night I wrote the poem, I really was spinning. Logistics and coordination are not my thing. It's like playing checkers or tic-tac-toe. I tend to get overwhelmed. I'm not a genius, but I feel like I'm pretty smart in a lot of areas. But true story: I was a camp counselor in college. I had sixth graders routinely beat me in checkers all summer, and I didn't even try to let them win.

Add in miscommunication/misunderstanding with our clinic... and the fact that I am still "new" to the game and don't full know all the rules and implications of what this fee entails or how to get the "right" combination for us... I could pull my hair out. Not really. But pretty close.

This whole process is really the weirdest thing. Some days it is fascinating and inspiring, and some days it just sucks.

It sucks having to pick a donor. It feels the same way as picking what situations you're open to in traditional adoption. No guess work with most "typical" instances of adding a child to your family. It sucks especially to pick a second donor. We love our current donors. Picking a second donor is acknowledging the truth that it might not work with our current embryos. It sucks doing fertility treatments "long distance". Yes, there are pros of being at a clinic like we are, but it's difficult to have life-changing communication primary by email. It sucks being so jaded. 3 IUIs with an average statistic of 20% success rate + 1 IVF with a 20% success rate. We should be 80% of the way towards a baby (or 94.2% with the situation we were shown for). But some people get lucky the first time, and some people never get lucky. I wonder what the future will hold for us.

These are the things that run through my head and exhaust my mind and heart.

Upcoming Guest Blog

Next Tuesday, my blog entry will be featured on the NRFA website, a new site to link embryo donor families with prospective embryo adoptive parents. Contain your excitement, please.

Post-Transfer Consult

I had the phone consult with our doctor. D was already on his way to work, so I held down the fort for us.

We live in the sticks, so I don't get great cell phone service inside the house. So, I sat on our back deck, with a nice cool breeze and birds chirping up a storm. Each minute crept by, until Blake Shelton belted out a tune on my phone... in other words, I had the call!

Things went pretty much as I expected. There were no issues with my lining, the transfer, or with me post-transfer. Our greater than 8 cell embryo was "good but not great" and the 2 cell little guy, bless his heart, was "not very good". Since I transferred two and one was not good, he felt like my chances to be successful this cycle was only 20%. Double rats! The verdict, then, is to just keep trying.

He did say that although there is a three transfer attempt rule, they also take into consideration the quality of the embryos transferred and would like each person to have the chance to have 5-6 good embryos transferred before turning them away. Since we only went with transferring two and since one wasn't good, that leaves us at only 1 good embryo transferred so far, at this point.

Do I want to keep going back? No. Am I ready to have a child? Absolutely. But, I will also absolutely transfer each of our three remaining embryos, even if 3/4 of their siblings didn't give us a "good chance". I'm too committed to them (and their genetic parents) to just switch to a new set.

This is all so weird sometimes. So many decisions. So much ethics. So much a mixture of scientific knowledge with good old fashioned luck.

It's still up in the air if we can get in for the July transfer. I am trying to get matched with a backup group of embryos, but it seems like everything is just dragging slowly, and it's all out of my control at this point.

Awaiting Profiles

I check my email. One new message! A g.roupon advertising tropical vacations. Yeah right.

My phone rings. The caller ID has my clinic's number! Eek! An automated message reminding me of the consult with my doctor that I couldn't forget if I tried.

Another few emails. More junk.

More waiting. More wondering when it will be our turn.

Honoring Our Embryos

On the night that we officially knew our transfer failed, we went out for Chuy's (be still my heart). We also made a stop at Hobby Lobby so I could create a shadowbox honoring our embryos. I included the picture of the two who survived the thaw, along with the three vials the embryos were stored in during their freeze. The pink caps mean 2PN and the blue cap means multicell. So one pink vial had two embryos, the other had one, and the blue had one.

Several weeks before the transfer, I asked the embryologist to set the vials aside for me. I figured with how busy she is she would forget, but she had them in a little biohazard bag for me the day of transfer!

It was a therapeutic process to create it. And, I am grateful to have this shadowbox because this is all we have to prove our embryos even existed.

God's Timing

I'm so antsy to get profiles so I can know if we will be in the July or September transfer. I don't understand why I felt so positive about our May transfer, but it was negative. 

One day the delays will make sense. I have a weird way of thinking about things, but this is an example. Hang with me for a minute. D and I are from neighboring towns but we never met til we were in college. We actually almost never met.

If I made 1 point higher on my ACT, I would have gotten a full ride to an out of state Christian college. I did NOT want to go to a local public university, but I knew I needed to since that door was wide open (long story short, I applied late after figuring out Christian college wasn't feasible and my pastor randomly knew someone high up at the public university and I got in and got a big scholarship at the last minute). I knew better than to start my first year of adulthood in debt, so begrudgingly to public university I went. I subsequently met D at said public university and we fell in love.

Going back several several years, D was held back in kindergarten (sorry D; I promise he ended up well adjusted), so when S moved to town, he and D were in the same grade. S and D became best friends, like brothers, really. Through mutual time with myself and D, S met and fell in love with my sister, which brings my nephew into the equation.

So, in all likelihood, if D hadn't repeated kindergarten and if I have gotten the score I wanted on my ACT, my nephew would not exist. Crazy stuff.

Looking back, I believe all these things worked out how they should, although I am sure D's parents didn't think so in the moment, and I can speak for myself... I was crushed. I vividly remember crying in my bedroom and being so angry.

But I love my nephew to pieces. He is so mild mannered. He gives me hugs all on his own. He makes his toy dinosaurs roar. He has a mean goat call. He calls me "Sar". He smiles and waves at me on Facetime. When he gets to my house, he marches right into the playroom. The playroom that was set up for the kids who never came. He brings light and energy to a sad room and puts the toys to good use. He is the closest thing I have to a child, and I love him with my whole heart.

One day I will hopefully have a child (perhaps one of our embryos?!?) and all this will make sense. The pain. The loss. The delays. The waiting. The frustrations.

Digging into History

I've been wanting to put together a photobook with old family pictures and stories. Things in my current life are well preserved with photobooks I make, but technology didn't afford that several generations ago (or even my parents' generation where pictures of our generation are stuffed in a tupperware tub).

I found a coupon code for half off an ancestry[dot]com membership, so I have started to gather some information past what I was aware. I was surprised that there are scanned copies of old handwritten censuses, military records, death certificates, and even photographs if you have an extended family member you've never met who has scanned them in.

It seems ironic to work on a project like this when I am attempting to birth a child through adoption. Blood isn't what is most important to me, but I do love history, and an adopted child becomes apart of a family tree as if they were blood, in my opinion. These books will preserve memories for me & D as well as our siblings, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews, and maybe one day, child(ren).

Anyway, since I am bored, stuck in my job, not in a place to continue my education right now, and child plans are on hold until we get a go-ahead from our clinic, now is as good a time as any to jump into this.