A Scan That Is a Big Deal

Today was our Week 6, Day 1 scan.  Thanks to the ruptured ectopic, I get an early transvaginal, lucky me.  I've had a million of these scans, well dozens over the last three years.  But this one was the one that counted.  I couldn't sleep.  I was sweating.

I had gone over in my head what would happen if I had another ectopic.  I didn't want Methotrexate. I just wanted the surgery to take out all of the tube and be completely sterile.  Just wheel me into the OR that day and take it all.  I don't want to live the rest of my life worried I am going to pass out on a kitchen floor and bleed out.  This wait is worse than the 2WW because failure means painful, awful interventions that take months.   Or waking up in a recovery room again.  The threat of the ectopic has followed me around for weeks.

I was too nervous for my really pushy, dramatic mom to be there.  It was just me and my sperm donor.  We never actually made it this far before.  My ectopic ruptured days before my scheduled Week 8 scan in my first pregnancy.   This scan was a big deal.  It either meant some sort of scary do not pass go treatment about my wonky tubes, or it meant I was just normal.  God I wish I were just normal.

For today at least, I was normal.  Perfectly normal.  A normal baby.  They printed out a picture and gave me a due date and a list of rules, like I'm a normal pregnant woman.  I'm not even on any of the drugs, except a prenatal.  After three years, we never made it this far to actually see a blob on a scan.  Normal.  Wow.

Unicorn Exuberance

A unicorn is that infertile you've heard about a million times.  Pregnant days after filling out adoption paperwork.  Pregnant after four failed rounds of IVF naturally.  HAR HAR. I certainly never thought I would be a unicorn.  After failure after failure, I never let myself believe that, except maybe that moment I let myself believe that IVF would work.  Then there was this morning.

I TESTED POSITIVE.   I took four Wondfos, and they were all squinters.  I am now something resembling pregnant. WTF WTF WTF.

We were in our mandatory break before the next IVF cycle.  I just submitted War and Peace for the insurance IVF preapproval.  It hadn't used OPKs or anything.  This was so bad I didn't even know when my last period was, I had to figure it out from a flight and when I bought tampons at a small town CVS in rural Michigan.

This had to have happened in a Day 9-Day 12 romp on a couch in Chelsea, LOL.  It's the only time I was even around my sperm source.

My sperm source is keeping a lid on the irrational exhuberance.  After my traumatic ruptured ectopic and the chemical pregnancy from IVF, we've been down this road before, and it hasn't gone so well.  I hate that infertility has taken the jump up and down, TV commercial screaming joy from a positive pee stick from me.  I hate that when I showed my sperm source a positive test, he asked when the bloodwork would be so I don't die.  I hate that this journey has taken the joy out of the one thing I wanted the most.

I also hate that I CANT TELL ANYONE.  ARRRRRGGGGGG.  My mother in law, my BFF.  I want to tell them so bad, but I need to just wait a few days.  I need to be more sure.

Life always throws you what you weren't expecting.  It's been THREE YEARS and tens of thousands at this, and to get pregnant on a sofa on Day 12 without even using OPKs is just so ironic I can't stand it.  And somehow such a perfect ending for all I've been through.  I hope I get my perfect ending to this journey now.

UPDATE:  My Beta #1, one day after my missed period, was 56.  Completely normal.  I went to my car and started crying from joy.  It has been over three years waiting for this.  Three years waiting for this call.  I am so full of gratitude to be here.

Infertility Makes You a Better Mom

There's this idea circulating that somehow IVF or having to work this hard for your kids makes you a better mom.  I'm not sure I get it.

I was watching an episode of David Tutera's new party planning show, and he was doing some ridiculous, expensive birthday party for a set of IVF twins for a celebrity I had never heard of.  Clearly, the more money you spend on a party, the better mom you are.  The disturbing part to me was when this celebrity had a little sit down with David Tutera to explain how hard it was, it failed, miracle babies, blah blah.  David totally got it and was then inspired to do an awesome party.

This is coming from someone whose claims his daughter has never even met her twin.

WTF.  Because her twins are born through IVF, she should throw them expensive birthday parties?  She loves them more?  They are worth more?  They are better than accidental Teen Mom twins?  She's a better mom?  People should respect her or be impressed or something?

My mom had cancer.  Does that make me love her more?  Does that mean she deserves expensive parties?  Does that make her a better mom?

I seriously hope that when (if) this is all over, I can never look back.  Never talk about it.  Never think about it.  I hope I can be as close to normal as possible, as if I had a boring accident baby.

SOME GOOD NEWS, INSURANCE EVEN!

Lawd, it has been so long since I got some good news, I don't even know what to do with it.  Last year, when my $2,000/month COBRA in a mandatory coverage state ran out, I bought an Obamacare plan off healthcare.gov.  I live in a state where nothing is covered, nothing will be covered, and you're on your own bub, with your IVF or whatever you call it.  Expectations were low.

My plan said it covered infertility after deductible.  I bought it, but I didn't believe it.  But I gave it to the girls at the clinic.  They said that each plan has a different requirement to cover infertility.  Well, between a ruptured ectopic, over two years trying, and a failed IVF, I meet the criteria!!!  Actually, just the ruptured ectopic, the rest of this might not have even worked.  So, it looks like my IVF will be covered after my $3,200 deductible!

I'm holding my breath for something to screw up.  Now the clinic has submitted all the forms for a fresh cycle, so we will see what is covered.  I am leaning toward another fresh as long as it's covered.  Pre-approval here we come!  Wow.  I don't know if this is Obamacare or what, but I am just blown away.  I can't believe this just might work.

UPDATE:  played some phone tag, had some scary phone calls.  I was scared for a bit, but it looks like I am 100% covered after deductible because I meet the requirements which were: over 5 years infertility, something about exposure to some chemical, or surgical rube removal.  Bingo.  So, now prior authorization forms.  I guess this is where things can still go wrong.

Still Wandering

I'm still wandering.  Now I'm in another city with a childhood friend.  I agreed to go engagement ring shopping with her, and it was great fun for at least the first three hours to be thinking about something else, be somewhere else, and be in beautiful luxurious retail settings where the lighting is gorgeous, and everyone is so nice.  Not unlike the IVF clinic.

Then, my period started in a lovely bathroom with embossed toilet paper, a week late.  I used three Wondfos in the last week to make sure I was still cool to drink even though I was not hopeful.  Nothing like that is going to happen to me.  40 Wondfos left.  I was cold and fed up, and it felt so meaningless to be shopping for this stupid piece of jewelry for so much money.  I got engaged with a ring bought on the beach in Mexico for $1.

Later that night we had a real talk.  I said it was weird that I've been here a few days and we haven't talked about the obvious thing.  You know, failed IVF.  She said it was weird too, but she didn't know what to do, she didn't know if I wanted to talk about it.  And then she said I was strong.

I'm not so sure I believe that.  I don't feel strong.  I feel red hot anger and jealousy.  I don't feel strong.  I feel like running away.  To Vegas.  To somewhere.

Wandering

I've been traveling since New Year's.  I've been home all of three or four nights out of 13.  Have laptop, will travel.  I've been traveling some for work, and some to just get away.  To sleep on the couch of an old friend.  To be a in a hip, young neighborhood.  To go to a wine tasting with single intellectual people.  To walk the cold streets of cities that aren't my own.  To drink a bespoke cocktail at 3PM.  To feel the love of old friends.  To feel anything.

Last night was dinner with an eleven month old baby and her exhausted parents.  Parents who already suffered my diva behavior when they announced their OMG pregnancy.  I was blank because I couldn't feel anything, and so I had to out myself with my then-recent ectopic nightmare.  Why couldn't I just be normal and say "Good for you!"  "I'm so excited!"  I think now I would be able to fake it somewhat better, but that was one of the first bitter unfairnesses I had to face.

All night cooing over the baby, there was a silent elephant around us.  Granted there were acquaintances there who didn't know about the rest that happened in the last year plus.  Failed IVF.  God, as if I could get any more pathetic.  What are you supposed to say to someone that pathetic anyway?  Such a pity.

We talked about the baby all night.  What else do people talk about?  And then the parents started whining about how to time #2 and I shut down.  I was there, but I was somewhere else.  I think they picked up on this and tried to change the subject.  For sad, barren me.  And they talked about having to fire their flaky nanny instead.  Life is so hard.

Everyone Is Pregnant

I saw my next door neighbor and stopped to chat for a minute, and she's obviously pregnant.  Of course she is.  They moved in within a few months of us, they're our age.  They have reliable vehicles, good jobs with benefits, and a reasonable commute.  They run marathons and ride bikes and have sophisticated dinner parties.  Everything's just peachy for them.

And their bodies work, I guess.  Right next door, just like everyone else.

Now that I'm off the hormones, I can fake it better for other people, but it still feels like a pitchfork through my uterus.  I'm not crying anymore I guess, but I feel this new, deeper, more jagged jealousy that feels it is becoming boiling anger.  I am so angry at my fucking body.  I'm angry at a fucking failed perfect IVF cycle.  I'm angry at all those injections for nothing.  I'm angry at dozens of scans.  I'm angry at the universe.  I'm angry at this break.  But I'm especially angry at pregnant women.  Like this red hot anger that coats my life with an angry cloud of smoke.  It makes my whole life feel gray and dark.  It's just not fair.

I told my sperm donor our next door neighbor was pregnant and he said "Don't get all crapped out."  He didn't even stop watching TV.