Almost dying Part 1

In the midst, and slightly because of fertility treatments I was dealt a huge setback in May 2016. J² and I were restarting our baby-making attempts after our most recent loss in November 2015. We returned to the clinic and were planning on doing another IUI, or Intrauterine insemination.

Quick side note: I will use many abbreviations relating to the infertility community throughout this blog. I plan on putting up a chart that will break these down.

Well, as my luck would have it, my body refused to follow the plan. My cycle wasn’t being consistent and then in mid-March the nurse found a cyst on my ovarian. If you are unaware, an ovarian cyst is a fluid-filled sac. Cysts are resolved in four main ways: by absorbing into the body naturally, with the help of birth control, rupturing painfully, or surgery. They told me to wait a couple weeks to see if it would disappear. Near the end of March I had another scan. The damn thing was still there. This wouldn’t be the last time I felt like screaming during the year. So, my doctor prescribed birth control. It’s very common and usually a fine treatment. I would take the pill for roughly six weeks.

In the interim, J² had a conference in San Diego at the beginning of April and I decided to tag along. The first half of the week I hung out in a hotel room in La Jolla. As an introvert, I do enjoy my alone time and am very skilled at keeping myself entertained. I alternated my time between my peaceful hotel room and exploring the surrounding areas. For the second half, after the conference concluded, we stayed in a condo in Oceanside near to the beach. J² and I did plenty of beach strolling. I can walk for hours on the beach. The sand softly hugging my feet as the water sinks them deeper. We also went to an Angels game and a whale watching tour. A much needed getaway. I know I have digressed a bit here, but 2016 was rough and this was a really happy time.

The remaining four weeks were uneventful besides feeling excessively tired. While seemingly unrelated at the time, about a week before my six weeks were up, I felt as if I had a strained muscle in my right calf. This was odd since I hadn’t done anything in particular that would cause this. On the first Sunday in May, I noticed when I would climb the stairs I felt slightly winded and my heart felt like it was racing. Not extreme enough to be alarmed, but definitely enough be puzzled. Perhaps, I was getting sick. On Monday, I felt similar sensations when I walked up the stairs at work. How worried should I be?

After leaving work, J², his parents, and I headed out to run a couple errands. We also grabbed lunch. Every time I was out walking, I still felt….something. Something was off, but I couldn’t really described it without sounding a little weird. Finally, on our way home, J² and I stopped by a local pond. I mentioned I how I was feeling. AS we returned to the car the trail has a slight inclined before it reaches the parking lot. Seriously, it wasn’t that steep. No problem, right? Ha! By the time I reached the car, my heart was pounding and felt like it was in my throat. I couldn’t catch my breath and my head was spinning. J² noticed I didn’t look right. I leaned against the car and……..I was looking up at J² while laying on the ground. I had passed out for a few seconds. We got me into the car and headed to Instacare. The doctor did an assessment; my bpm was high and oxygen levels were low. She then did a few tests to eliminate a panic attack or a heart attack. A heart attack? At 34? Oh please, no. I almost felt embarrassed. But, it wasn’t that. The doctor was concerned about one more thing, but unable to test at the clinic. So we were sent to the ER. And we sat there and waited for a bit. Finally, back in the exam room, on oxygen, the ER doctor wanted to do a CT scan.

The results? I had bilateral pulmonary embolisms. Translation: blood clots in my lungs. A large clot was in my right pulmonary artery and several small clots were in my left lung. I was admitted and immediately given a strong blood thinner. The next day, an ultrasound revealed another blood clot through my whole right leg. I was asked if I had any pain or swelling in my legs. The only answer I had was that pulled muscle feeling. I spent two days in the hospital. The doctor switched my medication to Xarelto and I was put on oxygen at home. Nose tubes for the win. And the recovery process begins. 

Nothing like playing doorbell ditch with death.

Since this post has been long, I am going to split it in two. I have some heavy thoughts and feelings that I don’t want to get lost in this part of the story.

The Waiting Game

The journey into the vast abyss of infertility varies for everyone. The diagnosis, the plan for treatment, the length of trying, any setbacks, and the emotional responses for all parties involved. A small bucketful from a deep well of reasons. Yes, my comparison are behemothic because this is truly the world of infertility. For all the differences, there is at least one similarity. Waiting. And there be heaps of it. Waiting for the blood results that they are keen on siphoning from your veins. Waiting in the, well, waiting room for the doctor. Waiting for medications to finally work. Waiting for procedures to be completed. The dreaded two week wait, or TWW. This is the period of time between an IUI or IVF transfer and the day you can test for pregnancy.

Fun fact: symptoms of pregnancy are identical to menstruation symptoms. If one considers fun to be a torturous mind game.

I wait for things to go right. I wait for things to go wrong. Oh, I’ve waited. Justin has, also. Time cannot be held captive. You feel it ebb away. Waiting amplifies that. I’m actually waiting now. In a holding pattern until this body of mine cooperates. I looked up waiting in the thesaurus and one of the synonyms under the noun form was time wasted. It’s fitting. Not in the sense of trying to conceive, but that I’ve wasted the time of those closest to me. And not necessarily time in and of itself, but emotional time. I admit that I can’t always see the pain and concern of those around because my own hurt consumes me. Selfish? Most definitely. The darkness and doubt that dwells in my head, as unearned as it is, overcomes me.

And all the awhile……..I wait.

Getting it together.....Maybe

While, I enter appointments and such in my online calendar, I do like an offline option. So I have compiled a binder which has a weekly calendar, my list of drugs and how to administer them, and other miscellaneous items I want to keep track of. Nice and sparkly and black. 

I plan on adding some decorations once my new toner is delivered. How fun it is to act cool, calm, and collected before the craziness comes to grab ahold.

The Package

It arrived yesterday. A big box full of expensive goodies.

Not your idea of goodies? Well, it’s no chocolate cake. Hmm, there’s an idea. Attach a bakery onto the pharmacy and ship chocolate cake with the drugs. You’re full of hormones, so why not be full of delicious treats, too? What about an IVF gift box? Choose from a select number items and ship it to yourself or someone you know going through fertility treatments. Anywho…..

I have three types of main shots. Both the Menopur and Gonal-F will help my body grow follicles (where the eggs are). The Cetrotide will help prevent ovulation so I don’t lose all those eggs before retrieval. The four little shot there is a trigger shot. It will force ovulation. Then there is all the needles and proper disposal container. Always practice safe fertility treating.

I just watched The Simpsons episode where Apu and Manjula are trying to have a baby. And end up having octuplets. Dr. Hibbert asks if anyone gave Manjula fertility drugs. Everyone says they did. Hahaha! Kind of how I feel right now.

That’s it for today. Short, sweet, and no emotional rambling.

A Little Panic

 I was going to finish the laundry; instead I took a nap. Inadequate sleep plus being slightly overwhelmed leads to exhaustion. I totally mathed right there.

Nothing like sitting at work and getting a call from the fertility pharmacy. They double check information, list of a bazillion different medications (oh, you think I’m exaggerating), and then expect payment. This meant me running down to another office to get my wallet. It’s slightly mind-boggling to drop thousands of dollars in just a couple of minutes. Considering that it’s not like buying a couch, TV, or tablet. No testing the quality or features to see if you’ll like it. Just many crossed fingers. Most of the time fertility drugs are purchased from a specialized pharmacy and they are overnighted in a cooler. Drugs to your doorstep.

Today was apparently the money day. When we previously asked about loans we were not given all the appropriate information in order to get one in a timely manner. We went in this past Monday to apply for a home equity loan and were informed that it may take a couple weeks to complete all the paperwork. I was perturbed. The bill is due on the 21^st. J² was not happy either. So we went into a main branch and talked with a loan officer (not a lending teller who’s plugging in information). We had to shuffle some things around and incurred a plenty, but we are situated. J² says it’s only money, but I get panicky with the idea of draining our savings. You work hard to save *blink* it’s gone. Yes, with a loan there is interest, but it doesn’t feel as painful. Could it all go wrong this soon? After we left the credit union I started to calm down. This is all so uncertain and you want to try, but you also don’t want everything to be wasted. It’s difficult to portray that pit in your stomach that opens up and you feel like you’re falling and falling. And you have no control. I have no doubt many of you have felt it and one time or another. Now, I just have to write the checks(who does that?) and hand them over. I’ll make it rain money then the fertility clinic can make it rain babies.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Another fun aspect to IVF is the contracts. The main contract that breaks down what you will be doing and the associated costs is like a novella. I must say that electronically signing is the best. No hand cramps! I sign, J² signs. We are locked in. Today, I had the consent forms to sign. You’re consenting to the procedures, medications, and to the knowledge that problems may arise. Then, there was this little gem…

What is an act of a public enemy? I guess they really do cover all bases.

Even with the contracts signed and the finances in order, I feel like I’m in a limbo. It’s real, but dreamlike. It’s fast approaching, but far off. I honestly didn’t think we would reach this point. I knew I required medical assistance to achieve pregnancy, but not this extreme. Perhaps, I was just too hopeful and scared because I’m afraid I’m not strong enough.

P. S. I got the laundry done. The was suspense too much, right?

Get pregnant or die trying

Well, not quite literally, but closer than one might want. Before I tell that story I’m going to go back a few steps. I would like to give you a sense of how my ride on the infertility coaster began. Then, I shall do the responsible blogger thing of going into more detail with additional entries.

First off, I should say “our” journey since J² has been just a little bit involved. Imagine that, my husband is part of this. Wait, what? J²? Yep, that’s my hubby. I coined that to be his nickname when someone jokingly called him it. It suits him well, being a combination of his name and because he is a huge math nerd. He is a wonderful man and throughout this blog I really hope to convey this. We were married in 2003. We both wanted to start a family and decided to let nature take its course. Very much cliché, but accurate. And everything work out perfectly because love, right?

Not so much. For a nice long 7 years (due to a combination of me being an anxious baby and we weren’t in a hurry) we waited. And waited. And waited. And – I’m late! Nope. BFN. And waited. So we hit the what is called the 7 year itch. Although, in our household, it was more like the 7 year “what the hell is happening?” I started experiencing physical issues along with emotional irritability. I would get angry fast and stay angry. Silent treatment, anyone? This was damaging not only me, but J² as well. The stupidest things made me mad. J² was confused because he didn’t understand and I wasn’t communicating. Everything was going wrong and I could only blame myself. I didn’t like that I saw myself hurting my husband. He still tried though. How does he love me that much? Are you screaming at me, yet? I wouldn’t blame you if you were. I hesitating in seeking treatment, which will always be a huge regret in my life.

Finally, I made an appointment to see a lovely nurse practitioner, Gundy. She listened to my issues (well, the ones relevant to the situation) and led me through her plan to try and help me. She run some blood work. By the way, this was the first time I had blood drawn besides the finger prick. Shout out to the awesome phlebotomist; didn’t feel a thing. Those were the good old days. Now, I’m pretty sure the doctors just have my blood on tap. The results suggested that I had something called PCOS. Or Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. It contributes to infertility. I’ll break that down late. Essentially, my hormones were all out of whack, totally the technically term(ha! Alliteration), and my body was not ovulating. So I was prescribed Metformin to help regulate those hormones. I guess biology dictates that one must ovulate in order to get pregnant. So nature and biology are pretty much sworn enemies. To digress for a moment – stairs are my arch nemesis. Look how much we’re learning. Continuing…

After taking Metformin for awhile, Gundy prescribed Clomid. Clomid’s been known to help simulate follicle growth and ovulation. It didn’t work. I can’t necessarily blame the drug because I mainly ran into a common problem: OB/GYNs are not specialized to deal with all the nuances of getting a women pregnant. J² and I made an appointment to see an RE at a fertility clinic. RE stands for Reproductive Endocrinologist. And they get all up in there. I’m convinced that people abducted by aliens go through less probing. And so our baby making process got a lot less intimate and added more people.

I write this blog now as J² and I start a new phase; we have decided to move forward with IVF. A big, scary step that because everything is moving rather quickly I haven’t had the proper time to freak the fuck out. Stay tuned for that. It should be fun.

Welcome to my mind

Isn’t that warning enough? Ha ha ha ha!

I’m starting this blog for two reasons:

1. Keeping those interested informed.

2. Documenting my feelings and process on infertility.

This won’t be a place of positive affirmations. It's not who I am. There will be sorrow, bitterness, and anger. No worries though, I love to laugh and humor will be peppered throughout. Strong language may happen. I know this is an infertility blog amongst millions, but we could always use another, right? And soon you will know what’s in my head. Wow, you poor fools.