Introducing Tinker Bell

My little tinker bell was born on Wednesday, April 28, at 12:21 pm EST. She weighed in at 7 pounds 5 ounces and measured just over 20 inches long. Needless to say, I have feelings of sheer positive overwhelmement, coupled with exhaustion from the last couple of nights.

T, as I will nickname her here, is my dream come true. While she is at the beginning of her very existence, she is the result of years of yearning and cross roads, wearing lucky socks, heart break and plan B's.

This day does not negate the journey's twists and turns and will never bring back Sally Ann in any way. However, I sigh a truly sincere sigh in knowing that my life is once again forever changed- in a good way.

I am sure I will find more words to share about my feelings being here. For now, I need to tend to baby.

Thank you all who have come here and supported me over the years. Sometimes it takes a village to make a child.

Catch up soon, I promise

I feel compelled to write even with the exhaustion I feel. I decided that castching up on all your blogs was more important than writing on my own. As a quick update, however, I have a follow appt with the OB tomorrow and have lots of questions ready to ask. We'll be listening to the heartbeat if all goes well.

On wednesday, I have a first trimester screening that includes a sensitive ultrasound- I will ask hubby to help me post the pics. I think I will feel more relieved once we do that. For now, I am still pretty anxious, but at least I am 100% present this time- I am taking the time to feel every feeling, good or bad.

Please know that I am reading, even when I am not writing. And now, I think I need to go to sleep.

9 weeks, 5 days- another milestone

I was wanting to post my u/s pics but I can't get my scanner to work. My hubby said he'd work on it but, if I wait for him to fix it, I may never blog again.

The u/s went well- baby is right on target, heart still beating- yippie. I also made it past another milestone. Last time, I developed a blood clot at 9 weeks, 2 days. Well that day came and went- no bleeding. I am so thankful that this pregnancy has been so different from the first, in so many ways.

Like my morning sickness, aka all-day sickness. I have been feeling like yuck yuck all the time and somehow love every minute of it. I went to the acupuncturist on Monday and she did some points to help ease the nausea. It worked like a charm- amazing- and yet I was scared shitless that something was wrong. Finally, on Thursday, the queasy feelings began to creep back in. I've decided that I'd rather be sick than worried.

My first OB appointment is Monday. All I want to know is when can I have another u/s?

I guess the next few milestones for me will be the end of the first trimester and then getting to the 24 week viability point. Last time around, my water broke at 17 weeks, 2 days and Sally Ann was born at 19 weeks. I keep telling others this- past performance has nothing to do with today. I do believe that- I just need to keep reminding myself. I deserve to be happy. I will be a wonderful mother.

Biding time until trimester #2

My next u/s is tomorrow. I will be 8 weeks and 6 days. So far, all has been well. I have felt conspicuously exhausted and nauseous which is heavenly for an infertile. I am savoring every tiring, sick moment.

I have begun to think back on "the last time"- not the smartest move from someone who suffers panic attacks. It was at 9 weeks 2 days that I developed the blood clot in my uterus. I know I will feel much better when that day comes and goes with no activity- but for now I am in the mode of trying not to get nervous. Even if I did get one, many women get blood clots that do not lead to preterm rupture of membranes. And- I am on lovenox for that very reason- to prevent blood clots. For now, I need to just surrender and be in the moment- good practice for being a mom. However, patience is not my strong point.

In other news, I am traveling for business later in the week and will have to give myself my own PIO shots. For those not familiar with what that is (be thankful), it is a big mother needle that goes right into the muscle of your outer butt region. First was going to make my husband and dog go with me on the trip. Then I figured, I'm a smart cookie, there is nothing I can't achieve.

I watched about 4 utube videos and then I retreated the to the master bath to figure things out. It turns out, I did a pretty good job of it. It actually hurt less than when hubby does it. Still, I'm going to have him do it on a regular basis until my trip and then when I return. I know this might sound silly, but that time is a bonding time- when he and come together and I feel like it's us two, as a team, making this happen.

Most of the time I feel likes it's me, alone,contorting myself into every possible position, even throwing myself against a steel wall to get a live baby for the two of us. It feels very one-sided. Not that hubby doesn't want a baby- he absolutely does. It's just, he gets to hang out mostly and then occasionally show up and jack off in a cup. Not really an equal partnership of responsibility on the fertility front. Ah- but he means well. I am so lucky that he has stuck around through this madness- my madness- he is definitely a keeper!

Houston- we have a heartbeat!

I will update you all a bit later...but I didn't want to wait longer to share the good news. I am now a graduate of Vincent Fertility Center ...wow! I can't believe I said that. Next stop- OB.

Coming along

Well, we had a bit of a scare last week. I was so scared, I couldn't blog. Beta numbers are supposed to double every other day. So my first beta was 63 and the sencond one was 85. The nurse said "they were concerned" about it. Why do they have to go and say those things?

The pain and fear and sadness I put myself through was horrible. I went to the dark place about of course this is my fate. Why did I think I could have this? Anyway, it was not a fun weekend with us.

I was freaked out beyond belief. Luckily, the first website I looked at (www.emedicine.com) mentioned that even an increase as low as 33% can still be consistent with a healthy pregnancy. I had not seen that before- I always had read 66%. Anyway, it made my hubby feel better and I had to re-read the website from my blackberry about once per hour or so to calm myself down.

On Monday morning, I got my next beta. All weekend I was praying for 213 (my lucky number). I got 189- good enough, more than doubled. On wednesday, I had 470! Everyone, including me, are very happy with the results. I have my u/s next Monday.

I would like to thank the Academy...

I'm pregnant!

Do you know how long I have waited to say those words? It feels surreal but I also have a calmness about me right now. I'm sure that will quickly fade but I am milking it for the time being. I am too happy for words.

I started testing on Monday. That one looked negative but then I noticed a very faint line at about the 6 minute mark. Still, I thought I was seeing something and I assumed the worst. When the story keeps having the same bad ending, you just assume.

On Tuesday, I got a slightly darker line- encouraging. Yesterday the line looked the same as Tuesday and I began to get worried again- how come it wasn't getting darker? The clinic let me come in a day early for my beta test since I was being a crazy lady and they wanted to put me out of my misery. I had the beta this morning and they confirmed I was most certainly pregnant.

All I can say is thank you, thank you, thank you, for being here with me on this journey- women I have (mostly) never even officially met. I know this is only the beginning of a road that will be marked by uncertainty, fear, who knows.... it's great to know that you ladies will be here as I move forward- as we move forward towards our dreams.

It really does take a village...

Am I losing it?

Thanks for all your well wishes about the Lupron. I really am losing it because I meant to say it was the Lovenox that stings. The Lupron, which I began on Tuesday, is a breeze. The Lovenox, on the other hand, is creating a war zone on my belly. I had my hubby take some photos of it so that I can show the kids what I did to have them. I'd post them here but the they make me look fat so never mind.

I started volunteering for Resolve, The National Infertility Association. I am one of their moderators in the Thursday night teleseries. They have a great line up of specialists and topics. I encourage any of you who have an interest, to take a look.

Everything is status quo right now for me until next week. I am getting a second opinion from a perinatalogist at a local hospital so that, WHEN I get pregnant (see the optimism here???), I will have taken all the precautions needed to ensure a smooth and easy pregnancy.

Why do you want to be a mother?

The answer to this question is complicated and can vary greatly from woman to woman. One thing I know for sure is that I have always wanted to be a mommy. I still recall the baby doll my mom gave me as holiday gift. I must have been about 7 or 8. I unwrapped the box, and in a rectangular wicker box was a life-sized infant baby doll. She was one of those dolls that you could feed and change. I was so excited that I had this special baby of my own to care for and love.

Is the most important aspect of motherhood the passing on a genetic link for future generations? This creates a possibility of genetic immortality- ones DNA can continue on through time until that branch of the family tree ends. There is something very comforting in that. My grandmother Sally, for example, had a strikingly beautiful color of hazel eyes. She passed that gene onto my father who, in turn, gave that to me. This side of my family link also gave me strong teeth and, at 40, not one cavity. I also got my nearly perfect eye sight from my paternal ancestry. The only glasses on that side of the family come with advancing age. While none of this may really be all that important in the grand scheme of things, it always strikes me as pleasing when I look at photos of my grandma, my dad and I. There we are, standing together, with the same eyes, same teeth.

Possibly more important than eye color is the legacy that was passed down through generations. My characteristics, values and perspective on the world were formed, in part, by how my grandparents raised my parents and, in turn, how they raised me. My grandma Sally had a witty sense of humor, exuded sensuality, was classy and held herself with grace. She had self confidence, was assertive and went after her dreams. No one could tell her she couldn't if she really wanted something. I like to think that those are but some of the traits she gave to me and those that I want to share with the world as part of her legacy. I want my children to have high integrity, a sense of priority towards family and community, and to learn to love deeply. I want my children to believe they can do or be or have anything they want and have the confidence to go after their dreams. I am so glad that Doug feels it is of the utmost importance that our children believe they can accomplish anything they put their minds to. So often as a child he was told he "couldn't" accomplish things-because of this, he wants the kids to have that confidence to go after their goals.

The idea of creating a family with Doug is also very important. Part of this has to do with the idea of blending the two of us into one- a genetic soup, if you will. The other piece of this is that it feel like the natural next step to grow an extension of our deep love. If Doug and I are great together, having a couple additions can help complete our family. It is the natural next step. I envision setting up the tent in the back yard on a warm summer evening, watching Doug teach the children how to ice skate, going to Sox games as a family, sitting at the kitchen table and helping with homework. It is the simple idea of parenting that brings great joy when I think about it. Nothing glamorous- just doing the every day mommy things.

I have never been a quitter. I think that is why I have been so successful in my life. I am a troubleshooter. I get things done. I go after my dreams and make things happen. That is one reason why this fertility journey has been so painful- I just figured if I put my mind to it, I would be able to have this dream. This month marks the official 4-year mark of my ttc. I never thought I would be here still with no children of my own. 13 IUI's, 2 IVFs, a whole lot of well-timed sex and the only thing to show for it was one traumatic second trimester loss and one very early miscarriage. When do I decide enough is enough?

I was on a Resolve conference call last week with a fertility expert and the topic was decreased ovarian reserve. This diagnosis may be made when you look at a whole host of signs- putting them together and it paints a picture. At age 40, I am now considered of advanced maternal age. At age 20, 80% of eggs produced monthly are considered genetically normal. By age 40, 80% are considered abnormal, causing a decreased ability to conceive and implant. My FSH levels are considered borderline high. While I have been known to dip below 10 once in a while, my numbers tend to range from about 10.1 to 14.2. This range does not exclude me from being able to have fertility treatment, but it does point to a lower statistical rate of success. Finally, my body's response has been low even to high levels of fertility meds. The fertility expert on the call said that if a woman only produces 1-3 mature eggs with high levels of meds, this may be indicative of low ovarian reserve. He said high levels of FSH were about 200 IU. I have been routinely prescribed 450 IU (the maximum does allowed) and have, at most, produced 3 mature follicles. I asked the question of the doctor- "if I was your sister, how many cycles would you suggest before moving on to other family building options?" His answer was 3 cycles.

There are so many motivations for having children- I guess it is my job to figure out what is most important. My doctor is willing to continue with the IUIs for as long as I am willing to try. After all, I did get pregnant last year so we know I can. Even if the statistics are not in my favor, pregnancy is not impossible. However, I have spent 4 years consumed with this goal. I can accomplish motherhood in a variety of ways.

Simply put, I wonder if I am wasting precious time being unhappy and missing out on motherhood in my attempts to become a mother.

Why do you want to be a mother? What would you tell me if I were your sister?

Cathing Up

Well, it has been a bit since I have written. I just haven't felt like it. I have been working long hours and I chose to read other blogs rather than to sit down and write in my own.

My visit to the fertility center in PA was great. The baseline ultrasound looked good so I began another IUI cycle. The pharmacy overnighted the meds I needed and I was off.

When I returned to Boston for my day 7 ultrasound, I was happy to find that my RE was the doctor of the week. This was actually the first time she was doing the ultrasound for me. Anyway, it looked as though I was responding well to the medication. "Looks very good" she said.

Responding well?

Poor response has been my middle name since I started this journey years ago. Poor response was why I would no longer be a candidate for IVF. Poor response- sounds so insulting, like I have done something wrong.

I was responding well to the meds- it looked like 2 follicles were nearing maturity, with several more just a hair behind, and even a few more labeled "small." When I came back two days later, three were ready to go with others still very close to maturity. This one could really work! Even the one that got me pregnant last year only produced 2, so I am feeling quite good. More mature follicles means more chances for success.

Today is 4 days post IUI. I can't tell if I am getting false symptoms due to my newly found optimism, but my girls were quite sore when I got up this am. My hubby, kind that he is, doesn't want me to get my hopes up and be hurt again.

So I will just play the waiting game while hoping for the best and remembering to breathe.

New Year's Resolution-Renewed Hope

The Definition of Hope
"A confident desire: a feeling that something desirable is likely to happen; likelihood of success: to want or expect something: to have a wish for something to happen or be true, especially something that seems possible or likely." (Encarta)

It is tough to stay in that place of hope. I have been down it so many times before. I am currently waiting on the two week period between IUI and discovery- today is day 10 post insemination. I wonder- when will it be my time? Is this my time? I have almost become numb from the process.

I started spotting yesterday- I can't tell the difference between implantation bleeding that I experienced last April and the onset of my menses. All will be known soon enough. I think I may take a pregnancy test tomorrow.

I guess what's different now is that I feeling a bit run down. It's been almost 4 years since I began this journey. Someone recently said to me that it is easier to think about DE when your back is up against the wall. I know what she means. If I had agreed to DE three years ago when it first came up, I would have a two year old by now. My mother would have met my baby before she died. Ahh, would of, could of, should of. Silly me. No need to go down that road again.

This "doom and gloom" I am sharing is not what it seems. My new year's resolution is to get back on the hope bandwagon- to believe that I can have what I want, even if the picture isn't exactly what I had planned. What I truly know now is that this year I will become pregnant, no matter what it takes. I am not quite ready to move on to DE yet, but I am damn close.

Let's not forget 2008. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I had my dreams answered with the surprise pregnancy. Wow I was so happy. G*d how happy my baby daughter made me. Then the loss of Sally Ann was definitely the worst thing that has ever happened in my life. In an instant, my hopes and dreams were gone. G*d that really sucked ass.

The only thing I can hold on to is what she taught me in her short life within me- things like unconditional love, my willingness to protect my child at all costs, the utter love between myself and my husband. I would be remiss if I didn't mention that she also taught me that I can get pregnant when I had pretty much given up on that possibility. And her death uncovered a rare clotting disorder that I have. That knowledge could have actually helped to save my life.

The legacy of my Sally Ann will live on in my heart forever and my best tribute to her is to be the best mom I can be. That is how I will honor her memory.

Smooth morning

The IUI went smoothly. The nurse doing the procedure is my favorite- we've been together since the beginning. Hopefully she and my lucky socks will make this a done deal.

I am going to relax for the rest of the day, and tomorrow too. And maybe try baby making the old fashion way to add to the 42 million strong swimmers (of the 137 million little guys in there) that are already on their way.

All I can say is think positive thoughts, pray if that's your thing, send forth intentions, solicit help from dead relatives, get your mind off the negative, use rituals, do visualizations, laugh, have fun, cast a spell, relax, meditate, carry around fertility rocks, dream, don't worry about it. That will be my job over the next 16 days and I'd appreciate any help from all of you out there in the universe that connects to the post. Choose your "thing" from the above. All it can do is help, and certainly couldn't hurt. Right?

Am I superstitious? You bet! Whatever it takes to get me to my dream. I am not giving up. No way, no how.

38 hours until the waiting game

I got the call- I will be taking the ovidrel tonight and going in for the IUI on Sunday morning. I am nervous and almost want to just put it out of my head. What can I do so I don't think about it?

So far I took a 3+ hour nap. That helped. My husband got a bunch of movies for us to watch. What I need is a massive chill pill to get my thoughts off of this and onto something completely distracting.

I can only imagine how my next two weeks will be. But I have gone through this before. I know what it feels like in both possible outcome scenarios. I'll be ok however it ends up. At least I hope I will be.

Silly me

I went for my scan and blood work this morning. It was a scary night leading up to it, though. I have actually been up since 2 am for a really silly thing I realized I did. For those familiar with gonal pen meds, the doctor put me on a high dose of 450 IU each evening. For those unfamiliar, the pen in is prefilled with medication that one uses each night until the pen is empty. When the pen runs out, you have to prick yourself again with a fresh new pen to get the remaining amount of dosage needed. Example, 300 IU left in a pen. Once I use it, I set the new pen for 150 IU- that gives me the total, appropriate dose of 450 IU. Two pricks unfortunately, but the correct dose nonetheless.

Last night I spent the night at a friend's house in Boston so I wouldn't have to do the double drive today (especially since I also had to go to Albany for a meeting tonight- the complete opposite direction- this knocks off 2 hours out of 7 for the day). I used up the first pen that I had- got 300 IU in that dose. That meant... I needed 150 IU more for the proper dose. I got the fresh pen out and ready to use, and somehow I got distracted. Instead of setting it for 150 IU, I set it and injected the full 450 IU. My reaction to the mix up? I didn't even notice I did anything wrong. I was happily clueless throughout the evening.

At about 2 am in the morning I woke up out of a sound sleep and realized- Oh shit! I took 750IU instead of 450! Needless to say, I was pretty freaked out. I was trying to decide if I would live. Was I flushed? I think I feel dizzy. Is it hot in here or is it the meds? How could I do this to me and my precious little follicles?

I had to talk myself down and say, self, what is the worst thing that could happen as a result? The worst thing would be that the cycle is canceled, but that won't happen. I could not get pregnant, but that could happen anyway. At least I would be at the doctor in the am and that there wasn't much I could do in the moment anyway. Just calm the effen down and try to relax. Relax I did. Sleep? Not really.

Come morning, I'm exhausted, but at least I can find out what I did to damage my body. Turns out, no one seemed to think it was a big deal. In fact, I think the doctor said it would have been much worse it I had took too little than too much. I shouldn't worry at all. It would have no effect. And these people call reproductive endocrinology a science? Hmmm. Boy do I feel much better, even if I over spent a few hundred dollars in meds last night.

So the update- I had about 8 developing follicles, with one definitely more dominant that the rest, however- let's see if the other buggers can catch up between now and Friday when I go back. I am tentative and still very hopeful. That is all I can do is hope, right? I guess I could spend the time worrying, but hoping is a much better feeling that worry.

On another note, my dad called me to check in today. It blew me away. Of course I missed his call, but I called him back quickly and reached him on his cell. He leaves it off most of the time. It is the first time in two years he actually called me rather than me calling him. Let me explain- He has had throat cancer and can't talk well so most of our exchanges are on email. About a year ago he had to have a tracheotomoy put in so talking is mostly a struggle for him. It is the royal cosmic irony in that my father has never been at a loss for words. Now he can speak a few minutes, at most. That is why it hurt even more when he critisize me the other day- few words to speak- and he chose negative ones to give me.

It was nice that he made that effort and it meant a lot to me. Just checking in was what he said he was doing. I know it probably means he has been rethinking the last week of verbal activities. Does he feel regret? I am not sure. At least he took the time to reach out. Even with his poor delivery on comments of late, he is still my dad and I love him.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow, I love you tomorrow...

I go for my day 3 scan tomorrow. I am nervous and excited all at once. I think it might be, in part, the emotional time of the month, but I have been very weepy today. I have all these hopes and dreams. I am sad that this journey has been so tumultuous. I am sad at how the last pregnancy went. I am frustrated that the process this time has been so difficult. I think I need to speak my mind tomorrow- it doesn't have to be that hard- it shouldn't be.

I want to give myself the space to relax and not build up everything on this first month. Even fertile women don't always get pregnant in one month. I need to keep perspective. On the other hand, my hormone levels were good, my uterus is in good shape. Why not me? Why not now?

For now though, I am just going to open myself up to the possibility that my dream can come true for me this time.

Feeling kind of so-so

Lots have been going through my mind in the last few days. Last week was Yom Kippur-the holiest day in the jewish year- a day to reflect, to repent for your sins, and to mourn for the dead. I was unprepared for the flood of emotion that would come up for me. Mother-daughter stuff. I remembered back to last year when I was inconsolable around the loss of my mother and here I am now, with two losses. How ironic. Part of the day also focuses on setting yourself for what you wish for in the coming year- how you would like that unfolding to be.

I wish for a baby. I wish I become a mother. Soon. Please, please, please.

All good things come to those who ask

That has been my motto for quite some time now. Not only did I get the follow up consult with my doc early like I wanted it, I can have it by phone- avoiding the 2+ hours drive it takes to get there. I am so happy I could scream.

Not only that, but my FSH test (follicle stimulating hormone) was 9.0- completely normal. This is a good sign as my numbers in the past were slightly elevated and was the only thing that they could point to that was causing me not to get pregnant.

So all tests will be completed by the 10th and my phone consult is on the 17th- which is enough time to get the approval from Tufts to begin my cycle in November.

I so appreciate the nurses and schedulers at Mass General. I really feel that they have my best interests at heart.

Those were the days

I remember back to how scared I was when I first found out I was pregnant- I wasn't sure how to feel since I had never been pregnant. I had complained right before the IUI that it had been 37 cycles of trying. There was a deep heaviness when I referred to the process that way- 37 attempts.

The truth was that it wasn't really 37 cycles. Yes- it had been 3 years, but a lot happened in that time frame. My mother was sick with cancer and I would often fly to be with her- out of range of my husband's "Superman" sperm as the doctor called it. I don't know how many months that occurred- I didn't really keep track of that. Moreover, in the early months, I didn't know what I was doing. The old adage- if you don't use birth control, it's an accident if you DON'T get pregnant- was in my mind so I didn't plan or time marital relations. I just came home from the bar, straddled my husband and said "let's make a baby." Oh, the good old days!

I also took on a new job that required some travel. I wasn't travelling too too much, but the first time I used the ovulation predictor kit, I had flown to Orlando FL for a conference. I knew I would be ovulating while I was there so my husband took off time to fly down there a few days after me to be sure we "matched" it up right. Low and behold, I ovulated two days before he got there.

If I look at the story I have told myself, I may have slanted my "truth" in a way that made me feel worse, not better. It didn't really matter by this past April- I had gotten pregnant. I mean, my issue was getting pregnant, not staying pregnant.

It took me just about 9 weeks to really get into it and not be completely frantic. When I first saw the ultrasound at week 5, I was terrified. There was a little heartbeat in what looked like a blob. How would that fragile thing live?????

At 9 weeks, the picture looked like a baby. All the doctors and nurses were congratulating me- they said the baby looked great. Very strong. They were extremely pleased. In fact, they said their work was done and they released me to my new OB.

I had found my OB about a week before. Still, I felt sort of lost in that I didn't know how to be just a pregnant woman. My story had gone from "when will I ever get pregnant" to "I met my husband, fell in love, got married and created our family" in a matter of minutes. I look back now wondering if there was a part of myself that thought "you fake! You know it can't be that easy."

I spent a non eventful weekend going back and forth on the matter until Monday, I decided this was my fate. I began telling close friends and reveling in the newness and joy of the experience. I shared my new story with my husband, my therapist, my family. It was a dream come true.

Until about 4:30 am in the morning of that very day. I went to the bathroom and blood gushed out of me. Falling into the toilet was large clots of tissue. I remember looking into it and saying- there's the baby. I was in total shock. I can't even describe the terror. I immediately called the reproductive endocrinologist. When the on-call MD called me back, she said I should call my OB. Now I am faced with calling a stranger's office to try to explain what had happened.

The on call doctor called me right back and asked me to remain calm. She told me to come to her office at 8:00 am- 30 minutes before they opened. It would be easier than going to the ER. Just remain calm.

I called my friend from 1st grade- she had 3 kids, Maybe she could calm me. "Oh I know someone who had the same thing, It was a blood clot. Don't worry just yet" she said. OK. I won't worry. Blahhh- did I lose my baby?

That was the longest 3 hours of my life.

I arrived at the unfamiliar office and they took me straight away to the ultrasound room. They got me situated and took a look. Low and behold, there was my sweet, beautiful baby, just moving and shaking, heartbeat absolutely perfect. I felt truly blessed, so happy, so grateful. Everything might really be OK.