Hello out there. I bet you thought I gave up on this blog thing, didn't ya?! Well...I did for awhile. A lot has happened since my last post and I didn't know where to start. But the dust has begun to settle, so here I am ready to tell all.
So...since the last time I wrote, we got pregnant. The Follistim worked wonders for me. I think my doctor was shocked at how well I responded. I remember after a Tommy Lee experience, I walked out of the exam room and the entire staff was looking at me strangely. I think I'm a little bit of a freak of nature. I have the 'egg supply of a 29-year old' and I responded to the drugs 'like a 25-year old egg donor,' according to my doc. As it goes, we took the Follistim shots for roughly 5-7 days. I went into see doc about every 2-3 days to have my blood tested for hormone levels that let's them know my follicles are growing and preparing for ovulation. She reduced the amount of medicine per shot each time. I started at 150 and was taken down to 50 by the end of the cycle. We opted for the IUI, which is what they lovingly refer to as 'turkey basting.' My husband (would kill me if he knew I was writing this) ejaculated in a cup and we had to take it to the lab within an hour. They told us to come back in 2 hours. I didn't understand what they were doing for 2 hours, so I asked her. During intercourse when sperm are released, the vagina has fluids that strip down each sperm to its purest form so fertilization can take place. Well, this is what they did in the lab. She said they scrubbed them clean and now they are all happy and ready to go. Fascinating! Anyway, so we took it upstairs to Dr. Lee and she 'turkey basted' me. I laid there for a few minutes to help the little guys (and girls) swim. Arthur and I held hands and talked about how we could possibly be making a baby right now. It was a great moment.
Fast forward about 4 weeks, and we are pregnant...with twins. OMG...the excitement, the overwhelming joy..it was an amazing time. I was a human incubator and rubbed my tummy incessantly. We made it to week 6, and the unthinkable happened. I miscarried...both of them. As you can imagine, we were heartbroken. The worst part was after the D&C (do we all know what this is?), my hormones dropped so fast, I felt like I was going crazy for about a week. I cried non-stop and had strange and scary thoughts. Eventually, everything went back to normal. The sadness persisted a little longer, until we were given the green light to start round 2. I am at day 6 of the Follistim and everything seems to be going according to plan. I'm not as excited as I was the first round, but I think that's a natural reaction to our situation.
So, to those of you out there in the same boat as me, if you need someone to talk to about your ordeal, someone that can relate, please don't hesitate to write me. If you don't want to write on such an open forum, you can email me at roxannekjames@yahoo.com. I think I reached out to every female I know trying to find some solace through this experience, and although I have wonderful friends who are extremely supportive and lovely all the way around, it would be nice to have someone to talk to that is going through the same experience as me at the exact same time.
Anyway, so there it is. I hope this entry finds you all well, and for those of you trying for a baby, I hope the fertility Gods are smiling upon you. Good luck!
Monday, May 24, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Tekkies
I found this slideshow on http://www.webmd.com/ and couldn't resist...I had to share. Technology and science are amazing. It's no wonder we figured out how to clone human beings: http://www.webmd.com/baby/slideshow-fetal-development.
Enjoy...I will write soon!
Enjoy...I will write soon!
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Little Prick
Hello my sweet, supportive followers. I'm sorry I haven't written in awhile, but I'm here to fill you in on all the latest details.
About a week ago (tomorrow), I started the shot, Follistim. Follistim includes a hormone that stimulates the follicles within the ovaries so they grow to the proper size and produce an egg (or eggs). I started with 150 units/day for 4 days. On Sunday (day 4), my doctor drew blood to check my hormone levels. They were a bit high, so I was told to drop down to 75 units/day for 2 days. I went back Tuesday for a Tommy Lee. I have one follicle at 15 millimeters, two at 13 millimeters and another at 12 millimeters (the ideal size is 15-20 millimeters). They say I'm right on track and lowered my dose to 50 units/day for 2 more days. So, I go back tomorrow and I'm not really sure what's going to occur. I have a feeling I will be probed once again and, at that point, given further instructions. I have gathered they aren't giving me the full run down of what to do until its time because they don't want me self-administering. I can't imagine injecting myself with drugs without my doctor's blessing but I guess they have their reasons. Maybe it's a liability thing.
Nonetheless, during my Tommy Lee experience Tuesday, the doctor asked if my ovaries felt 'full.' I wasn't sure what she was talking about at the time, but I do now! It's the craziest feeling. I can literally feel my ovaries. My belly is also swollen. Not swollen, bloated. I feel like I have a full water bottle hanging from my waist. It's actually kind of gross, but I don't mind...just making room for my future little stinkbug. She also said I have several follicles and that's why they lowered my dose again...they don't want me to be the next octo-mom (I verbally thanked her for that).
As for the drugs, so far no extreme reactions. My emotions haven't been swinging like a pendulum (although I think my husband might beg to differ). :) I have taken measures to keep my emotions in check through this experience. I avoid reading anything about fertility. I listen to my doctors, I follow their instructions to a 'T' and I focus on my own experience. I feel I'm doing myself more good than harm by avoiding everything that's out there. It's kind of like ignorance is bliss? I don't know, but it's working for me so I'm sticking with it.
As always, thanks for checking in and I will continue to keep you posted.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
The Results Are In!
So, I finally got my post-op appointment with my fertility doctor. I refrain from calling her 'super' anymore because I'm a little concerned about the care I'm getting. I don't want to talk bad about her, nor do I distrust her at this point, but I'm a little skeptical. Tell me...have you had a surgery where your doctor doesn't come to check on you afterwards? I apologize if this is the norm, but the fact my doctor didn't come see me after being under anesthesia, poked, cut open, instrument insertion into my body, etc., doesn't sit well with me. She couldn't even swing by to poke her head in the door and see how I'm doing? Needless to say, they had me hopped up on so many pain meds, which I appreciate they kept me out of pain; however, I don't respond well to these drugs. My body is very sensitive and I become nauseous easily. Not surprisingly, I got sick twice before leaving the hospital. Again, I appreciate their efforts to keep me out of pain because they succeeded and I would much rather 'Claven' than be in pain from cuts to my torso.
This isn't the only thing. In the week leading up to my surgery (and the week following the WTF procedure), I had some strange things happen to my body. I won't go into detail because its gross, but it involved my vagina, a strange bloody substance, and one freaked out soon-to-be mama. It was New Year's Day and I had no choice but to call my doctor. I wasn't going to the emergency room..it wasn't a severe flow, like something was punctured; however, I needed medical advise and I wanted it quickly.
So, a few hours later, I get a phone call from a 'blocked' number so I don't answer it..why would I? I never answer these calls. If you don't want me to know you're calling, then I don't want to talk to you. Fair enough, right? They call back again...immediately. Knowing I have a call out to my doctor, I answer the phone. And sure enough, it's my doctor's nurse. She says, 'I called earlier but you didn't answer.' (Actually, she called a moment prior). I said, 'Oh sorry. It came across as a blocked number so I didnt....' Before I can finish, she cuts me off and while chuckling says, 'well...we're not going to give you our number!' I told her I didn't want her number, I just wanted to talk to my doctor. It was like she was anticipating I was going to say something about a blocked number just so she could tell me she wasn't going to give me her number. This really pissed me off! I know these people probably have these conversations a thousand time a day and are sick of concerned women, trying their damnedest to have a family and give their husbands children (what bitches); however, this is my first experience with this whole thing and when my body does things I'm not used to, you better be ready for a phone call from me! It's not like I came to her house. I'm not one of these super pushy, needy, demanding patients. I take things at face value, expect honesty, the truth, and to be treated with some dignity and respect.
Of course I vent to all of you. I have yet to have this conversation with my doctor. I don't want to screw up my chances of her getting me pregnant. But be sure, the day is coming. She will know how I feel. I think its time she send her staff through sensitivity training...just a refresher course will do.
Anyway, everthing is ok. My tubes are open and working fine. My ovaries look fantastic and I have an ovary supply of a 25-year old....according to the sonogram technician (at a loss for her true title). That's very encouraging...my egg supply is great and I'm confident I will have a great response to the fertility treatments. I'm not cocky, but I'm not stressing out or scared either. I'm keeping my eye on the prize and will forego what it takes to get me there.
I guess my whole reason for telling you all this is because maybe if you sense these things happening with your doctor, you will be more brave and speak up immediately. I hope that just one person gets something positive out of my experience. Something that will help ease her mind and assist in accomplishing her goal of becoming a mommy.
The next step...if I don't start my period in the next few days, I'm to start Provera (the medicine that will make you start your period) again, menstrual cycle will begin, vaginal sonogram and hopefully first round of fertility shots. It truly excites me to verbalize this...I hope all goes as planned.
Please keep trying for a family, keep the faith, and continue loving your spouse.
I will keep you posted! And as always, thanks for stopping by!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Was It Worth It?
It is 7:39a on Saturday, January 9th and I've been up for about 2 hours. I am awake because I have been taking pain meds for about 18 hours and I never sleep well on these things. Good news is I'll be in and out all day, so I'll get enough rest.
So, I had surgery yesterday. It went something like this:
Around 9:15a, I walk into the women's day surgery at the hospital and look for someone to check me in at one of the check-in booths. This is where I stumble upon Jan who is quietly napping. It makes me smile...it's cold outside (the coldest it's been in Dallas in years), and I don't blame her for taking this opportunity to embrace cozy. If I had my way, I would be at home doing the same thing. I whisper hello, and she sits up, slightly embarrassed. She's a funny lady with a raspy, cigarette smoking voice (reminds me of myself about 6 months ago). She's quite proficient in her job and we toss some witty banter back and forth as she clicks away on her keyboard. Then...she drops the bomb! 'You have to pay $1,900 today. Since its January, your deductible and out-of-pocket expenses have started over so that is what you owe today.' Being the first time I've been told this, I said 'Jan, I didn't bring that kind of money with me today. No one told me I had to pay anything today. I signed something saying whatever my insurance doesn't cover, I promise to pay.' She was great about it. She said they would just bill us and proceeded to show me to my room.
Next I met Mabel. I believe she was middle eastern or something along those lines. A very sweet soul with a wonderful demeanor. She picked the perfect profession. Maybe that's why she's so nice because she loves what she does. She even told me I should consider being a nurse. 'I have 'smell' issues,' I said. She smiled.
Next came the anesthesiologist and his assistant. He was witty and friendly and so was his counterpart. He put in an IV and proceeded to give me the 'margarita' shot. At this point, all was ok. Well...for me. Hubby told me later it was tough watching me be wheeled away. One of our biggest fears and things we talked about prior to the surgery is that some people don't respond well to anesthesia and pass away during their procedure. This had me freaked out up until the day of surgery, wherein this is when my husband began to feel it. Bless his heart. Thank goodness his mother and my sister were there.
Anyway, next thing I remember I wake up to Ginger giving me an anti-nausea shot. I was in pain..just a little...and she said I would get my pain pill once I get to my room. She took me down the hall and as promised, gave me a pain pill. I asked for my husband twice and he, mom and my sister finally came in. My sister brought a card and a little gift..that was sweet. They stayed long enough to give me the good news. There is no blockage in/of my fallopian tubes. I had a cyst from the last round of drugs, which my doctor drained or lanced or whatever it is they do to those things. She also mentions to my husband I have a bit of endometriosis but nothing to worry about. This concerns me. Endometriosis can be a serious problem. I don't like having a little bit of any problem in my body. I will get all the details next week at my post-op. I think it's time WD2 and I had a heart-to-heart as to my expectations.
Anyway, I was told I couldn't leave until I was able to urinate, so my honey bought me a bottled water and Ginger gave me a Sprite, which I drank quickly so I could go home. Little did I know, drinking the water/Sprite while having my 3rd IV wasn't the wisest thing. Every time I stood up, I became nauseous. Ginger gave me another anti-nausea shot and it subsided.
Finally, I was able to use the restroom so we quickly packed up our stuff and headed out. As we were driving through the parking lot, the nausea kicked back in. As we pulled on to the main road, I said, 'pull over!' Up came the water and Sprite. Nothing else, just those two things. I chalked it up to having too much fluid in my throat/stomach.
I came home and as I put on my jammies, I surveyed my battle wounds. Not bad! She made an incision inside my belly button, which you can't even see. I have another small incision (less than 1/2 an inch) down by my bikini line. Neither hurt too much...it's the incisions inside my tummy that I feel the most.
Anyway, I am thrilled at the outcome. Was it worth it? You bet your buns! Now we can proceed and hopefully by my 40th birthday, really have something to celebrate.
As always, thanks for stopping by! I will keep you posted!
So, I had surgery yesterday. It went something like this:
Around 9:15a, I walk into the women's day surgery at the hospital and look for someone to check me in at one of the check-in booths. This is where I stumble upon Jan who is quietly napping. It makes me smile...it's cold outside (the coldest it's been in Dallas in years), and I don't blame her for taking this opportunity to embrace cozy. If I had my way, I would be at home doing the same thing. I whisper hello, and she sits up, slightly embarrassed. She's a funny lady with a raspy, cigarette smoking voice (reminds me of myself about 6 months ago). She's quite proficient in her job and we toss some witty banter back and forth as she clicks away on her keyboard. Then...she drops the bomb! 'You have to pay $1,900 today. Since its January, your deductible and out-of-pocket expenses have started over so that is what you owe today.' Being the first time I've been told this, I said 'Jan, I didn't bring that kind of money with me today. No one told me I had to pay anything today. I signed something saying whatever my insurance doesn't cover, I promise to pay.' She was great about it. She said they would just bill us and proceeded to show me to my room.
Next I met Mabel. I believe she was middle eastern or something along those lines. A very sweet soul with a wonderful demeanor. She picked the perfect profession. Maybe that's why she's so nice because she loves what she does. She even told me I should consider being a nurse. 'I have 'smell' issues,' I said. She smiled.
Next came the anesthesiologist and his assistant. He was witty and friendly and so was his counterpart. He put in an IV and proceeded to give me the 'margarita' shot. At this point, all was ok. Well...for me. Hubby told me later it was tough watching me be wheeled away. One of our biggest fears and things we talked about prior to the surgery is that some people don't respond well to anesthesia and pass away during their procedure. This had me freaked out up until the day of surgery, wherein this is when my husband began to feel it. Bless his heart. Thank goodness his mother and my sister were there.
Anyway, next thing I remember I wake up to Ginger giving me an anti-nausea shot. I was in pain..just a little...and she said I would get my pain pill once I get to my room. She took me down the hall and as promised, gave me a pain pill. I asked for my husband twice and he, mom and my sister finally came in. My sister brought a card and a little gift..that was sweet. They stayed long enough to give me the good news. There is no blockage in/of my fallopian tubes. I had a cyst from the last round of drugs, which my doctor drained or lanced or whatever it is they do to those things. She also mentions to my husband I have a bit of endometriosis but nothing to worry about. This concerns me. Endometriosis can be a serious problem. I don't like having a little bit of any problem in my body. I will get all the details next week at my post-op. I think it's time WD2 and I had a heart-to-heart as to my expectations.
Anyway, I was told I couldn't leave until I was able to urinate, so my honey bought me a bottled water and Ginger gave me a Sprite, which I drank quickly so I could go home. Little did I know, drinking the water/Sprite while having my 3rd IV wasn't the wisest thing. Every time I stood up, I became nauseous. Ginger gave me another anti-nausea shot and it subsided.
Finally, I was able to use the restroom so we quickly packed up our stuff and headed out. As we were driving through the parking lot, the nausea kicked back in. As we pulled on to the main road, I said, 'pull over!' Up came the water and Sprite. Nothing else, just those two things. I chalked it up to having too much fluid in my throat/stomach.
I came home and as I put on my jammies, I surveyed my battle wounds. Not bad! She made an incision inside my belly button, which you can't even see. I have another small incision (less than 1/2 an inch) down by my bikini line. Neither hurt too much...it's the incisions inside my tummy that I feel the most.
Anyway, I am thrilled at the outcome. Was it worth it? You bet your buns! Now we can proceed and hopefully by my 40th birthday, really have something to celebrate.
As always, thanks for stopping by! I will keep you posted!
Thursday, January 7, 2010
HSG=WTF?!
First of all, let me say how touched I am by all of your thoughts, prayers and support. I haven't figured out how to respond to each of your messages (remember, I'm new to this blogging thing), so I'm making a blanket statement of saying thank you. I don't know how women handle these marbles rolling around in their brain while going through this process, so thank you for supporting my decision to get this out.
With that being said, I'm writing this evening to discuss an experience I had via WD2's recommendation. I can't really call it a recommendation...it was more like a vague suggestion. The procedure is referred to as HSG, or as WebMD defines it:
A hysterosalpingogram (HSG) is an X-ray test that looks at the inside of the uterus and fallopian tubes and the area around them. It often is done for women who are having a hard time becoming pregnant (infertile).
In my opinion, it's a long word to intimidate people receiving the procedure; therefore, subconsciously (and erroneously) lending trust to someone who can pronounce the word in its entirety. Why don't they just call it what it is...a vaginal enema? Ok, a bit graphic but tell me the truth so I'm mentally prepared. Actually, I don't think anything can prepare you for something like this. I opted to have the procedure because a) I want to make sure everything is in working order before I shell out the cash for 'the shots' or IVF; 2) my insurance covered it; and 3) WD2 suggested it.
I don't want to scare anyone considering this procedure, but I must inform you of my personal experience...in case you are on the fence. First red flag, my doctor told me this procedure would take place at a technician's office. I didn't like it when she said it, but I figured...Harvard grad. So I followed her direction and on Christmas Eve, I went to the 'technician's' office for my procedure. Mind you, they are located directly across the street from a hospital in a strip shopping mall that has been there since I was a little kid. The office assistants were dismissive and unfriendly; i.e.:
'Check in at the computerized self check-in kiosk, stupid!;'
'Please have a seat for 30 minutes until someone calls you back, stupid!;'
and...my favorite, 'Please have all your belongings gathered by the time I call you so I don't have to hold this door open longer than 30 seconds, stupid!').
By the time it was my turn, I get passed off to a nice nurse who is kind, but I chalk up in a nano-second she has this conversation about 20 times a day. She escorts me back to a room I equate to a walk-in beer cooler as she continues her witty banter and ushers me towards the bathroom to take off my clothes. Here I am informed the person administering this test will be a male. Now...I don't want to slam the male race because..well, like most of you, I like them and want to keep them around. However, when it comes to the vagina, I equate their knowledge of it to their knowledge of the female psyche...they find it confusing and hard to figure out. There is no reason why a man should be conducting this procedure. But I think to myself, I'm naked (vulnerable), my (Harvard grad) doctor recommended this place, he's probably done this a million times. Sometimes I think its best to listen to that annoying voice in your head that's saying, 'Hey! Get the HELL out of here!!!!!'
Anyway, as I sit in a freezing cold chair in my paper robe next to the metal slab I'm about to climb upon, I call my sister to reminisce about the day she gave birth to my first niece. I made this phone call because they wouldn't let my husband back in the morgue room with us. I knew if it was anyone that could take my mind off what I was about to experience, it was her. In the middle of our conversation the 'technician' came in. Obviously, perturbed by my being on the phone, he gave me the look and went to the prep area. I quickly got off the phone (I'm always intimidated in situations like this), and obliged when the nurse/comedienne motioned me up on the table. So...I lay down on this freezing slab. She places a pillow under my lower back so as to put my uterus at a slant. They are about to open me up with that clamp thing they perform pap smears with (it looks like a duck bill), insert a catheter and slowly inject dye into my uterus. What they are looking for is the dye to fill up the cervix and flow into/out of the fallopian tubes without interruption. So...as I uncomfortably widen my knees for this completely unpersonable 'technician,' he begins to insert the duck bill. As I expected, he was rough and unfamiliar with the vagina. It was painful just getting to the expansion point. I was ready to go home. Seriously...I almost sat up and said 'nevermind' then I thought...Eye on the Prize. The entire procedure took about 15-20 minutes. It was painful and completely uncomfortable. Was it tolerable? Yes, but will I do it again? Not unless I'm forced.
Well, the results were, not a single drop of dye entered my fallopian tubes. Not a single drop! He even had me rock side to side in hopes it would somewhat flow to my tubes. NO! Not a drop in either tube!
As my face turned to disappointment, he proceeds to remove the catheter which immediately relieves the discomfort and begins to tell me how I could've had an infection at some point in my life that caused this, or something else I did to myself made this happen. I quit listening to this bag of wind and decide to wait until Monday to speak to my doctor before taking anyone's ('technician') fine, forensic analogy.
As I cleaned myself up, I fought back the tears. Really? Another setback? What now?...are my thoughts. I put on my clothes and walk out to the waiting room. Poor hubby...as he's gathering his belongings, I begin to get irritated because I'm about to cry. While it takes him longer than 30 seconds to stand up (stupid), I toss something insulting at him, and walk out of the building and get in the car. Of course he immediately follows, still packing his computer bag as he's walking out the door. The look on his face. And the tears start to flow.
[I know this sounds all so negative and scary, so for that I apologize. I can tolerate a lot when it comes to doctors and dentists. It takes a lot to get me worked up in these situations because I'm usually the type that understands the necessity of what I'm going through.]
I saw my doctor a few days later and she said it's possible my vagina didn't like the procedure (imagine that), it angered her, and my fallopian tubes clamped up, not letting anything through them. My options are 1) to have the procedure again, but this time she would perform it and speak gently to my uterus so it responds better (my first thought was why didn't you do it in the first place?); or 2) have the surgery where they make a few small incisions in my belly region and go in with a camera and a couple small instruments to see if the fallopian tubes are actually blocked (caused by something I did to myself, of course). If they are blocked for some reason, they will attempt to open them.
I have opted for the surgery. I figured if I did the WTF procedure again and the result was the same, I would have to go the surgery route anyway so I'm skipping a step.
So tomorrow I go in for this procedure. I know this may seem sudden and drastic, and I'm a little concerned about my decision but I want to make sure everything is ok so I can proceed with our plan. Please say a little prayer for me...I'm a little nervous. I hope I'm not confusing logic with zeal, and looking forward to good news. I will be home/in bed all weekend so I will keep you abreast of the outcome.
As always, stay tuned and thanks for stopping by!
With that being said, I'm writing this evening to discuss an experience I had via WD2's recommendation. I can't really call it a recommendation...it was more like a vague suggestion. The procedure is referred to as HSG, or as WebMD defines it:
A hysterosalpingogram (HSG) is an X-ray test that looks at the inside of the uterus and fallopian tubes and the area around them. It often is done for women who are having a hard time becoming pregnant (infertile).
In my opinion, it's a long word to intimidate people receiving the procedure; therefore, subconsciously (and erroneously) lending trust to someone who can pronounce the word in its entirety. Why don't they just call it what it is...a vaginal enema? Ok, a bit graphic but tell me the truth so I'm mentally prepared. Actually, I don't think anything can prepare you for something like this. I opted to have the procedure because a) I want to make sure everything is in working order before I shell out the cash for 'the shots' or IVF; 2) my insurance covered it; and 3) WD2 suggested it.
I don't want to scare anyone considering this procedure, but I must inform you of my personal experience...in case you are on the fence. First red flag, my doctor told me this procedure would take place at a technician's office. I didn't like it when she said it, but I figured...Harvard grad. So I followed her direction and on Christmas Eve, I went to the 'technician's' office for my procedure. Mind you, they are located directly across the street from a hospital in a strip shopping mall that has been there since I was a little kid. The office assistants were dismissive and unfriendly; i.e.:
'Check in at the computerized self check-in kiosk, stupid!;'
'Please have a seat for 30 minutes until someone calls you back, stupid!;'
and...my favorite, 'Please have all your belongings gathered by the time I call you so I don't have to hold this door open longer than 30 seconds, stupid!').
By the time it was my turn, I get passed off to a nice nurse who is kind, but I chalk up in a nano-second she has this conversation about 20 times a day. She escorts me back to a room I equate to a walk-in beer cooler as she continues her witty banter and ushers me towards the bathroom to take off my clothes. Here I am informed the person administering this test will be a male. Now...I don't want to slam the male race because..well, like most of you, I like them and want to keep them around. However, when it comes to the vagina, I equate their knowledge of it to their knowledge of the female psyche...they find it confusing and hard to figure out. There is no reason why a man should be conducting this procedure. But I think to myself, I'm naked (vulnerable), my (Harvard grad) doctor recommended this place, he's probably done this a million times. Sometimes I think its best to listen to that annoying voice in your head that's saying, 'Hey! Get the HELL out of here!!!!!'
Anyway, as I sit in a freezing cold chair in my paper robe next to the metal slab I'm about to climb upon, I call my sister to reminisce about the day she gave birth to my first niece. I made this phone call because they wouldn't let my husband back in the morgue room with us. I knew if it was anyone that could take my mind off what I was about to experience, it was her. In the middle of our conversation the 'technician' came in. Obviously, perturbed by my being on the phone, he gave me the look and went to the prep area. I quickly got off the phone (I'm always intimidated in situations like this), and obliged when the nurse/comedienne motioned me up on the table. So...I lay down on this freezing slab. She places a pillow under my lower back so as to put my uterus at a slant. They are about to open me up with that clamp thing they perform pap smears with (it looks like a duck bill), insert a catheter and slowly inject dye into my uterus. What they are looking for is the dye to fill up the cervix and flow into/out of the fallopian tubes without interruption. So...as I uncomfortably widen my knees for this completely unpersonable 'technician,' he begins to insert the duck bill. As I expected, he was rough and unfamiliar with the vagina. It was painful just getting to the expansion point. I was ready to go home. Seriously...I almost sat up and said 'nevermind' then I thought...Eye on the Prize. The entire procedure took about 15-20 minutes. It was painful and completely uncomfortable. Was it tolerable? Yes, but will I do it again? Not unless I'm forced.
Well, the results were, not a single drop of dye entered my fallopian tubes. Not a single drop! He even had me rock side to side in hopes it would somewhat flow to my tubes. NO! Not a drop in either tube!
As my face turned to disappointment, he proceeds to remove the catheter which immediately relieves the discomfort and begins to tell me how I could've had an infection at some point in my life that caused this, or something else I did to myself made this happen. I quit listening to this bag of wind and decide to wait until Monday to speak to my doctor before taking anyone's ('technician') fine, forensic analogy.
As I cleaned myself up, I fought back the tears. Really? Another setback? What now?...are my thoughts. I put on my clothes and walk out to the waiting room. Poor hubby...as he's gathering his belongings, I begin to get irritated because I'm about to cry. While it takes him longer than 30 seconds to stand up (stupid), I toss something insulting at him, and walk out of the building and get in the car. Of course he immediately follows, still packing his computer bag as he's walking out the door. The look on his face. And the tears start to flow.
[I know this sounds all so negative and scary, so for that I apologize. I can tolerate a lot when it comes to doctors and dentists. It takes a lot to get me worked up in these situations because I'm usually the type that understands the necessity of what I'm going through.]
I saw my doctor a few days later and she said it's possible my vagina didn't like the procedure (imagine that), it angered her, and my fallopian tubes clamped up, not letting anything through them. My options are 1) to have the procedure again, but this time she would perform it and speak gently to my uterus so it responds better (my first thought was why didn't you do it in the first place?); or 2) have the surgery where they make a few small incisions in my belly region and go in with a camera and a couple small instruments to see if the fallopian tubes are actually blocked (caused by something I did to myself, of course). If they are blocked for some reason, they will attempt to open them.
I have opted for the surgery. I figured if I did the WTF procedure again and the result was the same, I would have to go the surgery route anyway so I'm skipping a step.
So tomorrow I go in for this procedure. I know this may seem sudden and drastic, and I'm a little concerned about my decision but I want to make sure everything is ok so I can proceed with our plan. Please say a little prayer for me...I'm a little nervous. I hope I'm not confusing logic with zeal, and looking forward to good news. I will be home/in bed all weekend so I will keep you abreast of the outcome.
As always, stay tuned and thanks for stopping by!
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Dr. WD2: The Fertility Experience Discussion
I finally met my fertility doctor, or WD2 as I will call her. She's a sweet little Asian woman who looks to be about 20 years old. I see pictures of a man and two children in her office. I'm not sure if this is her husband/children, or her dad and pictures of herself as a child. This is the strangest part of getting older...when people you rely on for answers are so much younger than you. Not that I don't trust her experience...hell, she graduated from Harvard med...I hope she knows what she's doing. Actually, she was recommended by Wonder Doc so I have faith.
So...we begin to delve into our options.
By the way, my sweetheart of a husband has been at almost every appointment with me. I think the first Tommy Lee experience traumatized him a bit, but I'm glad he's here. Not only for the support, but also because he is having his own experience through this journey. He keeps thanking me for doing this for our family. I keep thinking, of course! But then I relent and relish in the sweet sentiment. See...sensitive...like me!
Anyway, so we begin to delve into our options. Here they are: 1) The shots! Remember Charlotte (Sex and the City) going through this? It's the image that pops in my head every time I think about 'the shots.' The shots consist of Follistim and Ovidrel. One of them I take everyday and the other is a one-time deal I inject when WD2 tells me to. I have been taught how to give them to myself; however, I think my husband will have to help...at least the first few shots. The shots will cause me to ovulate, possibly more than one egg at a time...this is why women taking this route have a higher chance at multiple births. My multiple chances, I've been told, are twins: 20-25%; triplets: about 2%; more than that: because of my age, no chance at competing with Octo-Mom. That was good news. The shots cost about $1,200/month. Most insurances don't cover them so this will be something we will have to sell our belongings to afford, but it's worth it. For those of you wondering, some insurance companies will cover all the testing/diagnosing but once you get to the point of fertilization, they won't cover the costs. Maybe this will change one day. Like when insurance companies were forced (yes, they had to be forced) to cover reconstructive surgery for women that require masectomies to save their lives. For years, insurance companies considered fake boobs in situations like this 'cosmetic.' Is that disgusting or what?
Sorry...another blog for another day...back to my point.
Or, 2) I go straight to IVF, which is in vitro. Ok...listen to this...they take the egg straight out of your ovary, add a little sperm, implant the egg back in the uterus and voila...baby on board. This process takes 6 to 7 minutes! 6 to 7 minutes! Is that incredible?! The chances of success at my age are roughly 50% that IVF will work. This process is $11,000. Ouch!
I think my doctor is leaning towards IVF; however, after a long discussion with the hubby (actually, it was a short conversation because it was an easy decision), we decided to try the shots first. The thought of having twins is exciting and we want to take our chances. Besides, my trust fund hasn't replenished itself since I bought the Italian villa and Cris Craft so $11,000 is a little steep right now.
After making this decision, I opted for the fallopian tube test, or HSG. HSG stands for some unnecessarily long name for this process. I had the procedure done Christmas Eve and will blog on it next. It wasn't pleasant and the outcome wasn't what I wanted to hear.
Stay tuned and thanks again for stopping by!
Sorry...another blog for another day...back to my point.
Or, 2) I go straight to IVF, which is in vitro. Ok...listen to this...they take the egg straight out of your ovary, add a little sperm, implant the egg back in the uterus and voila...baby on board. This process takes 6 to 7 minutes! 6 to 7 minutes! Is that incredible?! The chances of success at my age are roughly 50% that IVF will work. This process is $11,000. Ouch!
I think my doctor is leaning towards IVF; however, after a long discussion with the hubby (actually, it was a short conversation because it was an easy decision), we decided to try the shots first. The thought of having twins is exciting and we want to take our chances. Besides, my trust fund hasn't replenished itself since I bought the Italian villa and Cris Craft so $11,000 is a little steep right now.
After making this decision, I opted for the fallopian tube test, or HSG. HSG stands for some unnecessarily long name for this process. I had the procedure done Christmas Eve and will blog on it next. It wasn't pleasant and the outcome wasn't what I wanted to hear.
Stay tuned and thanks again for stopping by!
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