Are You There, G-d? It's Me, Melanie.

I think my last post might have been a touch dramatic. Of course, I was wholeheartedly, completely devastated by the news that the IUI didn’t take. And I really don’t have any hope of another IUI working if that one didn’t. But the future of which I dream, filled with family outings and carpooling children to various activities is still possible. I do believe that some day, some how I will be a parent. It’s just taking much more time and effort and expense than I ever would have thought.

I spent the last week dealing with apartment stuff and didn’t have time to blog about what I was feeling. Besides the depression and sadness that came with the news, I was also quite angry. Not at the world but at my sister-in-law and her husband. You see, last weekend we went to visit D’s family and when we arrived at his mother’s house we learned that his sister, whom I shall call Mary, and her husband (“Joseph”) were not joining us as expected since they had just received that afternoon the results of their post-coital test and it wasn’t good.

A little background: Mary, age 36, and Joseph, 41, married in March of 2004. They have been trying to have a child ever since. Mary has talked about becoming a mother since she was a kid herself. Before she met Joseph she had a plan to adopt on her own. Mary & Joseph met at church. They are devout Catholics. In fact, Mary converted to Catholicism on her own when she was 13 (D’s dad is Jewish – though really he’s an atheist, D’s mom is Episcopalian Protestant).

Now, when D’s mother explained to us that Mary’s tests hadn’t shown any problems, but the post coital indicated there may be something sub-optimal with Joseph, I started ranting about how the post-coital test isn’t a clear indication of anything, how my RE doesn’t even use that test anymore, blah-blah-blah. I really wanted to know if Joseph had had a semen analysis. I knew he wouldn’t do it the traditional way because of his religious beliefs, but Mary had mentioned in the past that they could have sex with a special condom that had a hole in it and bring in the sample that way. But as it turns out, they haven’t had luck getting a sample to be tested. So how can they know for sure if there’s a problem with Joseph’s sperm or not?

We listened to their impassioned explanation about how they believe G-d believes that sex should only occur if it’s both unitative (husband and wife together) and procreative (the possibility of pregnancy exists). I cannot begin to tell you how infuriated this made me on so many levels!

Mostly, I think I’m angry because I so desperately want a diagnosis. Unexplained infertility is not cutting it for me. Doesn’t there HAVE to be a reason for why I can’t get pregnant? And so to know these two people, who could possibly find a reason for why they’ve yet to produce a child, not do everything they can to determine why is maddening. Particularly when what is involved is jacking off into a cup. Not surgery, not drugs just a freakin’ orgasm. Come on!

Granted, should they learn that there is a problem with Joseph’s sperm, they wouldn’t take advantage of iui (and certainly not ivf) so I can see why it’s almost a moot point. But then I get pissed off that they find themselves in our situation, that they’ll be entitled to the same sympathy as me and D, because they could do something about it and I can’t. And I so, so want to have something to do about it - besides just trusting in G-d, I mean.

Negative.

The most painful state of being is remembering the future,

particularly one you can never have.

-Soren Kierkegaard

Meltdown

I had a minor freak-out last night - or, as a college roommate used to put it daily, I had a nervous breakdown. Really, I just let my anxiety and nervousness about today’s beta test get the best of me.

We had just finished watching Million Dollar Baby and, of course, that started the whole waterworks. But I calmed myself down and started to get ready for bed, when I noticed the 3 mosquito bite-like, possible pimples on my back that I first noticed on Friday night seemed to have multiplied and taken up even greater space on my back. So what could I do but cry about it?

Poor D didn’t know what to do. I wanted my mother’s magic cream to put on this mysterious rash, but we don’t have anything remotely appropriate in the house. I proceeded to stamp my feet and thrash my arms like the two-year-old I so desperately want. D kept asking “What is it?” And only when I told him that I was nervous about the beta today did he accept that as the reason for my insane behavior.

Sometime today I’ll get a phone call that will tell me the state of things. There is no more room for Hope and Optimism – it either is or isn’t. And the thing is, I don’t feel any different. I don’t feel pregnant. So not only am I nervous and anxious, now I’m scared. Because if this IUI didn’t work, I can’t logically believe another IUI would. If this IUI didn’t work, I think I’m resigned to IVF.

Please let this IUI have worked.

5 Days Til Beta

There are strange crampy feelings happening in my uterus. At least, I think it’s my uterus. It feels as it does on cd1 when my period is just beginning. On the other hand, if a doctor told me it was actually my stomach and they were gas pains I wouldn’t be shocked. But it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like the start of menstrual cramps. Which it can’t be because I’ve been dutifully inserting the lovely progesterone suppositories twice a day. Thus, I’m stuck wondering if these could possibly be those cramps that pregnant women say they felt before knowing they were pregnant. I’m afraid to go to the bathroom and check if anything’s goin’ on down there.

I just want to be pregnant. Duh!

I think because I re-read Donnie’s posts today from her successful iui experience I’m trying to will myself to have the same outcome. These are probably just psychosomatic symptoms.

I’ve been trying not to dwell on the upcoming beta (on the 15th for those of you keeping track at home). Tracking down the discontinued kohler sink I want for my bathroom as well as trying to keep up my productive-ness at work has kept me pretty busy and serves as a great distraction, as does my daily devouring of the Boston Globe Sports Page. (Can anyone believe the Sox are still in first place? It’s been such a fun season to follow so far.) And we’re going to the in-laws this weekend. So it’s not that I’m sitting around not doing anything, but damn, these cramps are making it hard to think about anything else.

Let it be known that I firmly believe that these kinds of “symptoms” are not indicative of anything - except that Hope is obviously still guiding me. The question is am I being led down the garden path?

Who Knew It Could Be This Way?

I never expected to feel this way. The feelings coursing through me are relief, excitement and happiness. After such a long wait, I didn’t realize how heavy a burden I was carrying; to have it lifted from me has freed me in an unimaginable way.

I write, of course, of becoming a homeowner. The apartment closing on Friday went smoothly enough, we were handed the keys and I couldn’t be more thrilled. Well, of course, if I were to find out next week that I was pregnant, I would be more thrilled; I imagine I would feel all those emotions I listed above threefold. But for now, as D says, I have a “two-track mind.” If I start getting sad or mopey at the sight of a newborn, D says that at least now he can switch my focus to the apartment and my face lights up again.

I have to admit, I’m in a great mood at the moment. I was more productive today at work than I’ve been in a really long time. I could concentrate on getting things done. I didn’t feel the need to go on the internet for a distraction. I didn’t check my bloglines subscription. I spent most of my work day actually doing work. Seriously, I don’t know when the last time was where I didn’t spend an hour plus surfing the web. But I feel more like my old self; I’m making phone calls; e-mailing people back; I don’t even feel the need to only veg out in front of the T.V. I mean, here it is, 10pm on a weeknight and I’m writing a blog entry. I’m just so excited!

Granted, with every twinge and flutter in my abdomen/uterus/ovaries (‘cuz honestly, I can’t tell where these crampy things are happening) my mind wonders if I have an implanted fertilized egg growing inside me. But, I’m pretty content to wait it out until the blood test on next Monday. What will be will be. And if not now, I think we may be done with all treatments until I’m covered by D’s insurance and we start IVF.

Of course, I’m so hoping that at least one of those five follicles transformed itself (with some help from D’s guys) into our child-to-be. What with everyone’s reaction being “such a big place for just the two of you” when learning about the size of the apartment, it would be extra nice. In fact, when we were doing the apartment walk-thru on Thursday night we met some neighbors, (a couple our age with a 14-month old, naturally) they said to us “And you have twins, right?” And at the closing itself the seller also referred to our twin children. I can only hope it’s a premonition of what life in the new apartment will bring.

Lady In Waiting

This is the ultimate 2-week wait. Not only am I counting down the days until beta testing (12), I’m anxiously awaiting the apartment closing (in 3 days) as well as waiting for word if and when D will be leaving for San Francisco. And for good measure, throw in the wait for the contractor to start the apartment renovations, the wait to buy the new fixtures and furniture I want (since I want to own the place before purchasing things for it), and the wait to actually move in to the apartment. Even at work, we’re stuck waiting for a certain playwright to let us actually announce that we’ll be producing his play this fall; which means I’m waiting on making the official offers to designers and waiting to draft the actual contracts.

I know that all of a sudden things are going to start happening. The waiting will end and a new stage of life will unfold. But for now, I’m stuck in the eternal limbo of waiting. I’m incapable of acting on anything and unable to deal with anyone at the moment. I don’t want to call my friends or run into people on the street. I can barely respond to e-mails. I can’t focus on work for long periods. I just feel so consumed on what’s happening to me that I can’t summon the energy to listen to someone else. It’s not a great place to be in.

Still Hoping

All the silly reasons I want this cycle to be the one:

1. Next month I’ll be living in a different part of the city, so the commute to the RE’s office will be longer.
2. It wouldn’t matter, for procreation purposes, that D was living in San Francisco and that we only got to see each other during the weekends.
3. I’d give birth before turning 35.
4. I’d be pregnant for my 34th birthday.
5. When we move into the new apartment I could think of one of the bedrooms as a kid’s room, instead of as my craft room.
6. I’d be able to donate 3+ boxes of bravelle to someone else.
7. I’d be able to tell my parents the good news for their anniversary.
8. I wouldn’t have to go through the high holidays or Thanksgiving and Christmas for the 3rd year in a row not pregnant.

But the real reasons I want this cycle to be the one:

1. I’m sick of spending money on IF treatments. I know I’m so very fortunate that I don’t have to worry about the expense, but the injustice of having to pay for conceiving a child is maddening.
2. With D’s shipping off to the West Coast imminent (although still not specified), it’s likely that this is the last chance before IVF. And IVF is scary.
3. I’m tired. Tired of wanting. Tired of hoping. Tired of this grind.

The IUI yesterday went fine. It was one of the more painful ones I’ve had, and I had spotting yesterday and today, which, while not unusual, is not typical for me. But this seems to be the cycle of spotting so I’m still chalking that up to my body having new and wondrous things going on inside it. I did feel all day yesterday, and today to some extent, like my ovaries had engaged in some kind of title bout; they’ve been sore and heavy but not crampy.

I just have a good feeling about this month. The Red Sox didn’t trade Manny and it sounds like yesterday was a magical day at Fenway. They’re still in first place (as Internal Spring pointed out) and that’s not a minor accomplishment. For the first time in awhile I remembered to say “rabbit, rabbit” when I woke up. I sure hope it does the trick.