infertility

the life...eh

Heating pad to the back, because the gas from my procedure hurts more than the incisions themselves. 

Ice pack to my belly because my incision sites are swollen and sore after getting out and about today.

Sleeping in the recliner for the 4th night in a row because it’s easier to get in and out of.  

I didn’t feel like it was all the bad, the surgery I mean, but now I just want it to be over. I wanna workout and move around normally and pick up my niece and nephew. March 12th is my follow up appointment and when we find out the results of the biopsy.  Sleep, sleep sounds so perfect.

Goodnight internet. 

And cd 1. Wonder what created that nausea. Stupid.

I’ve decided that if I’m not pregnant with a healthy baby by the time I’m 30 (so 2 years) we are taking out a loan for ivf/icis. I’m OK with only one child. I’m also expecting we create one in that time frame. I have no idea on the ins and outs of getting a loan for something like that or for the amount but I’m sure that’s what some people do to afford it? I previously thought it’d never be an option due to cost, but if I only have one child by that it’s worth all the monies. I just hope I’d be approved for it (my credit is fair right now and only going to go up, husband’s is poor and he’s going to be filing bankruptcy this year so we can legally marry).

Also, dearest Uterus, please stop causing me pain. I see that you are vacant, the cramping is an over the top reminder. Kindly stop it.
Well. . .

I just heard back from the billing department of the first clinic, and an IUI with them (not including meds or ultrasounds, but including sperm collection) is $399. BUT! They have an income-based discount program we are eligible for that would lower the cost. Do you know how fucking great that is? It almost makes me want to cry! I’m going to fill out the application today and see where that gets us. I’m leaning more and more toward this place even though insurance won’t help.

Two years ago I was obese and miserable.
Two years ago I was pre-diabetic and my hormones were out of control.
Two years ago I didn’t have a fighting chance at motherhood.

Today I am still working towards my goal weight.
Today I am healthy. I am not pre-diabetic.
Today my hormone levels are almost completely in healthy range.

In 2015 I will reach my goal.
In 2015 I will be able to say I did it.
In 2015 I will beat infertility.

Imagine your otp having been trying to have a baby for a long time, but with no luck. B gets the idea to go to a doctor to see what they can do. After undergoing a few tests, they get the news: A can’t have children. A and B are both devastated with the news, but A is having an especially hard time swallowing it. B tries their best to help A with it.

We don’t tell one another we are trying because we are embarrassed by our inability to conceive. Not getting pregnant means we are failing at one of our most basic functions. Considering we now live in a time when a woman’s worth goes far beyond her biology, this shame should have long been exposed for what it really is: senseless and bogus.
—  Elissa Strauss on why saying we’re trying to get pregnant shouldn’t be taboo. More here.

Exactly one year ago today I got the most wonderful news, that I was pregnant. On our very last round of fertility medication, Clomid, I took a pregnancy test expecting another disappointment but instead I saw the word pregnant on it and could hardly believe my eyes. We were pregnant! A year later I have a beautiful and healthy little boy in front of me and am so thankful for him. After 2 years of trying for a baby, 3 miscarriages, 5 rounds of clomid, this was our pregnancy test that would lead us to being the happiest we’d ever been. ♡

But while I was struggling with infertility, for four years, I did a lot of research — and it shaped how I saw the climate crisis. I started to notice that this is how extinction happens. And if you view the ecological crisis through a feminist lens, and through a woman’s lens, what you see is that a lot of creatures are having trouble with fertility. The whole world is having a fertility crisis right now. I’ve found dozens and dozens of examples of the way climate change is impacting fertility. I think the saddest example are the leatherback turtles, who bury their eggs in the sand, but the sand is now getting so hot that the eggs are just cooking. I mean, this is a species that’s as old as the dinosaurs, and they just can’t handle that increased degree. So I feel like my own struggle with fertility has helped me understand some parts of the climate crisis.
—  Naomi Klein
2

It feels somehow especially scary to share this here…but also extra sacred. After all, so many of you have buoyed us throughout this hard march. So here it is…Chris and I are pretty much drunk with joy to share that sometime around late May, we are expecting twins! Our first kiddos, our most complex answers to prayer.

If you want to know, I feel like the world hasn’t invented language adequate to describe how grateful we are, or how much it is possible to already love these little squirrels. (For instance, this is a photo of our little boy cuddling his sister’s bum. Which made us laugh and cry for way too long in the perinatologist’s office and will forever enchant me. Do you see that little garden of ribs? So perfectly grown? Those unapologetic arm bones - not a theory but an actuality? That sweet dent in that bent knee? I am delirious with the realization that these babies really finally exist. That they are ours. That I will get to memorize their bodies and the galaxy of their eyes, dark and bottomless with the promise of every adventure and thrill and lesson and heartache yet to come in their allotted 80 years. (please Lord, give them this much at least).)

We are 23 weeks along and, despite the nausea and heartburn curses of pregnancy, it all still feels a little too good to be true. Maybe it always will. We are 23 weeks along and just in the past few weeks of healthy so-far bills of health and of feeling the babies move, there is a shore of safety in sight. Not a guarantee but a comfort. It was the moving that did it, I think. Our boy is a machine of perpetual motion. Fierce and constant and curious. Our girl is dreamy and quiet and gives occasional punches so strong and well placed you cannot ignore her. She will be ok in this world.

I feel them tumble and stretch and swim as I sit in meetings and movies and on airplanes and I wonder why no one has built monuments to this. To the intensity of feeling life come to life and grow toward independence inside you. I want to grow hoarse convincing someone, everyone I guess, that it isn’t just movement. It is magic. There is not enough gold in this world to materialize it, to blind you into realizing what magic this is.

This will get old, I suppose. How many million people a year get pregnant and how many years have they been doing so? There is nothing new under the sun. And we still know basically nothing of the wonder of children. We know nothing, overall. But I’m grateful for this much anyhow.

I always promised myself that if we got to the point where we were lucky enough to announce a pregnancy, I wouldn’t just include the shiny, happy ending. Because I have been the person reading that good news and feeling so joyful for friends, but also so lost because it looked so effortless for everyone else in the world. And it just wasn’t happening for us, and no one could tell us why not.

We don’t talk a lot about infertility or miscarriages or the fact that sometimes it takes help from brilliant doctors and nurses and acupuncturists and support groups to build your family.

But it does. And it did for us. And I just want to couple that shadowed side of the moon right in with this joyful announcement. We are elated to be here, to be parents soon, insha’Allah. But I will never forget the years it took to get here and the compatriots we met along the way..many of whom are still doing their good, hard work. All the cycles that didn’t work and losing a longed-for pregnancy last winter and moving on to IVF and oh lord, the months of drug shots and invasive procedures and bajillion dollar medical bills. And laughter over ass injections (not as dirty as it sounds). And the tightening of love that maybe only comes through hardship. And despair and hope, depending on the day.

I share this all in case any of you are in the same boat. I just want to say that we’re here if you ever want to talk or need support. And if you don’t feel like sharing, that’s ok too — just know that for us, this wasn’t easy at all. It took a lot to get here and even though we know we’re not out of the woods yet, it was all beyond worth it. But it’s ok if you feel tired or inadequate or doubtful. We did too. Hang in there. Take care of yourself. You are not alone.

Thanks to our family and dearest friends and compassionate strangers for all your support and walking beside us to this joy.

We cannot wait to meet our kiddos and they will always know how many people helped us find them.

TUMBLR WE NEED YOUR HELP

1-in-10 is an organization that does a lot of research and education for Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. They are THE ONLY organization that does this much research! Because of them I was able to gain control of my health (which was spiraling out of control when I was only 21!). I cannot stress enough how important this organization is. 

If you don’t know about PCOS:
PCOS is an endocrine and metabolic disorder that affects 1 in 10 women. Women who suffer from PCOS experience a long list of symptoms including excess hair growth, anxiety, depression, infertility, male pattern baldness, and weight gain. They are also at a much higher risk for diabetes, heart disease, breast and uterine cancers. 

Because of 1-in-10 I reversed my type 2 diabetes (AGAIN I STRESS I WAS ONLY 21) and obesity, gained control of my hormones, and learned what I can and cannot eat in order to have optimal health. I owe my life to this organization. 

Today I received notification that this organization is low on funding and may be shut down if they cannot raise enough money. PLEASE CONSIDER DONATING. I’m begging you. It would mean the world to me and thousands of other women suffering from PCOS.

To donate and/or learn more about 1-in-10 please go to www.10reasons.causevox.com.