The Infamous Plan B Post October 27, 2005
If there’s one thing that’s apparent about me, it’s that I’m a major fan of having a Plan B in place. I just did a Google search of my blog and came up with 56 hits for “plan b” and 33 hits for “backup plan.” That’s a lot of posts that I have devoted to the topic.
It’s important to me, though. It has been from the very beginning. It’s a way of knowing that no matter what happens, it won’t be the end. Options are so important.
My Plan B has changed over the years. (Oh, how I hate to say years. We’re coming up on the 4 year mark, and it makes me sick.) Anyway, it has changed, and that’s a good thing, I think. Each leg in this “journey” has affected Plan B. That’s the way it should be.
I’d be lying if I said the miscarriage didn’t affect our plans for the future. Of course it did. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant this last cycle, then I doubt we’d be doing another. Even Dixie’s passing affected how I feel about all of this trying to conceive business.
With all of that said, it’s time to unveil the current Plan B. We will be doing another fresh IVF cycle in January. I’ll be having a hysteroscopy done with my November period and then will be starting birth control pills with my December one. Since I’ll be doing the shorter microdose Lupron protocol this time, complete with a much shorter stint on BCPs, ER/ET should fall in the latter half of January assuming my cycles cooperate from here on out. (I’m not totally assuming that since I have no clue what my body will end up doing post m/c, but that’s a rough estimate.)
This will be our last fresh cycle. Yes, I’ve said that before. The thing is, though, that this time I actually mean it. Before I said it because either my husband agreed to no more or because it seemed like the smart thing to do financially speaking or for who knows what other reason. However, my unspoken philosophy has always been, “We’ll do this however many times it takes.” I really felt like I could keep going indefinitely.
I no longer feel that way. Finally, I know in my heart that this will be the last time. We will of course do a FET if we are unsuccessful with the fresh cycle and actually have something to freeze this time, but I am so not counting on that.
If we do not find success this time (and I mean live baby success, not getting pregnant success) then that will be it. We will close the door on IVF for good. It will be time, and I am prepared for that. We can’t keep doing this forever. I can’t keep doing this forever.
The truth is that I am tired. So freaking tired. This IVF crap is wearing me out both emotionally and physically. I figure I’ve had over 250 injections over the course of my cycles so far, and of course countless blood draws and ultrasounds. I’ve had so many freaking tests, many of which were beyond painful. (Can we say HSG and hysteroscopy?) My body has been through the ringer.
Let’s not forget the emotional ups and downs.
- Oh look, things are going so well. Surely you’ll get pregnant this cycle. Oh, not so much.
- Oh look, you got a positive beta. Surely you’ll get a doubling beta this cycle. Oh, not so much.
- Oh look, you got a doubling beta. Surely you’ll have great ultrasounds and actually stay pregnant this cycle. Oh, not so much.
Yeah, the trend isn’t great. It takes a toll.
Where was I going with this? Ah, yes. Back to Plan B. We will do this last cycle (and any possible FETs- yeah, right) and then say goodbye to IVF for good. I’m actually down on cycling again at the moment, but I know I need to do it. I know that I need to say that I tried everything I could before we walk away from IVF, because when we do, we won’t be going back. Once the door is closed, I don’t ever, I mean ever, want to open it again.
So, what’s the actual Plan B? China. Adoption has always been on our list of options we’ve been considering. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve researched adoption, checked out books from the library, spent hours and hours pouring over adoption websites, etc. I’ve done it throughout all of this IVF crap. Only now does it feel right. And it does feel right.
Adopting from China would mean taking a break for a couple of reasons. Most importantly, we’re not old enough yet. You have to be 30 when you submit your dossier to China. We’re not quite there. Most agencies recommend getting the ball rolling on the home study and dossier when the youngest member of a couple is 29.5. That would be about a year from now for us. Also, we’re most likely moving out of state in approximately 10 months. That throws even more wrenches in the scenario even if we were over 30 right now.
So, if this IVF doesn’t work then we will take some time off. We will do what people do when they’re not stuck in trying to conceive hell. (What’s that again? I’d have to go back and relearn that part.) We would most likely move in September of ‘06 and then start the adoption process a month or two later.
The wait would be worth it for us. I’ve looked at other countries in depth (we’ve always felt international was right for us) and China is at the top of our list for numerous reasons. Many of those reasons are practical (stability of program, predictability of process, support network of other families in US) but more than that, our hearts are drawn to China.
One thing I’ve learned throughout all of this is that it’s important to do what feels right. I can do countless hours of research, educate myself on anything and everything, but it’s the feeling deep in my core that lets me know when something is right for me and right for our family. A lot of times that feeling hasn’t been there, my core has been empty. I haven’t known what to do. Right now, I know. It’s that knowledge that’s going to get me through all of this. Whether it’s Plan A, Plan B, or Plan Z, we will have a child. That I know for sure.
Home Sweet Home October 26, 2005
I never expected to miss living in Houston, but I do. If you had told me that I would be missing it down the line when we first moved there, I would have thought you were insane. I do, though.
It’s just easier to live in a big city. You don’t have to drive a million hours to get to a good IVF clinic, you don’t have to spend a full day traveling to visit the in-laws for the holidays because you have to fly out of a tiny airport or drive 4-5 hours to get to a major one. Any weekend of the year you can find a Broadway show, a ballet, or some other kind of wonderful performance to attend. You can actually find good grocery stores. There are just so many options in a big city.
It’s not just that I’m missing Houston, though. I’m ready to get out of Lafayette. There are just too many sad memories here. I miscarried in this apartment. We lost our dear sweet Dixie here. It’s just too much.
I’m ready to move. Obviously, that’s not going to happen right this instant. My husband’s clerkship doesn’t end for another 10 months. We’ll be here at least that long.
Dan and I have been discussing it, and it looks like there’s a good chance that we’ll be moving back to Houston after his clerkship ends. He’s leaning towards going back to the firm. There are definitely pros and cons to that, but it looks like it might be the best thing in the long run.
I think it’s a good idea for a number of reasons. The only down side in my mind would be that Dan would be back to working long hours. That’s never fun. It’s still something to consider.
I think it would be good to move. I just don’t feel like I’m at home here. It’s too unsettling to feel that way all the time. I guess only time will tell where we’ll end up, but it sure would be nice to find a place we’re comfortable enough in to really call home.
♥ October 21, 2005
We’re all missing our sweet Dixie so very much. It’s been one major cryfest since we took her to the vet on Sunday night. The last couple of days have been really, really hard.
I feel badly for my other two kitties who have no clue why she’s not here anymore. I can tell they miss her. They’ve been trying to find her. Salvador has been scratching on the glass of the balcony door asking to go out there to look for her, and Muffy has been poking her head under the covers on the bed looking for her there. Those were her two favorite spots.
I feel the worst for Muffy. Dixie and Muffy grew up together. They had been best friends for almost 14 years. We called them the two-headed cat because they were always curled up together.
Muffy has been glued to me ever since we took Dixie to the vet. Poor kitty. We’ve been trying to make each other feel better as much as possible.
On a completely different note, my period showed up this morning. I guess a little over 6 weeks post miscarriage is about average. I can already tell that it’s going to be a total bitch of a period. Fun.
I am so glad we’re not jumping into another cycle right now. I never, ever thought I’d be thankful for a break, but I am. The thought of starting all of that crap again right now is so not appealing. There is just too much grief flowing through my body to even want to think about IVF. I’m sure my body will thank me for a little time off, but my heart and mind need it even more.
Goodbye Sweet Dixie October 18, 2005
My sweet baby continued to fare very badly today and her blood work results came back even worse than they were on Saturday. It was obvious that she was ready to go. My husband and I got to spend some time with her giving her lots of pets and kisses before we let her go. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
Dixie has been part of my life for over 17 years. We adopted her from the pound when I was 11. She is my baby. I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.
Who’s going to curl up in my arms under the covers while I sleep? Who’s going to meow at the balcony door asking to be let out to go lay in the sun?
I know we did what was best for her, and that’s the most important thing. The last thing I wanted was for her to suffer. She had a good, long, and happy life, and she brought so much joy into mine. I will miss her with all my heart.
The grief is overwhelming. Here I am still grieving from the miscarriage and now I’ve lost my beloved furbaby. It’s just too much.
I love you, Miss Dixie. So very much. I’ll miss you, baby.
A Damn Tough Day October 17, 2005
Dealing with a really sick kitty, going in for yet another damn beta, and spending time at the DMV is just really too much to handle in one day. Just too fucking much.
Dixie is not doing well at all. She kept getting worse and worse last night, so much so that we weren’t sure if she would even make it until morning. At around 11:30 last night we packed up and headed to the emergency vet. My poor kitty couldn’t even hold her head up when we brought her in. Oh, how it just breaks my heart.
They ran a ton of blood work and took some x-rays and found that she is in severe renal failure. Her numbers were off the charts. I stood there in tears asking whether or not we should pursue treatment for her or let her go. The vet thought it was worth going ahead with treatment for at least a little while, so they gave her a mega dose of antibiotics, put her on IV fluids, and kept her for the night. This morning we picked her up and took her to the regular vet where they have continued the IV treatment.
I talked to the vet this afternoon, and my baby is doing about the same. She still won’t eat anything and isn’t peeing enough for the amount of fluid being pumped into her, so that’s not good news. I asked if we should keep going, and our vet said yes for now. She’ll stay on the fluids and have her kidney function blood work redone tomorrow or Wednesday to see if it’s helping any. We’ll get another report when the vet goes up to check on her around 10:00 tonight.
My face is beyond tear stained and all I’ve had to eat so far today has been two cookies and a little pudding. Yeah, I’m doing well. This is just too hard.
On a different note, my beta finally came back negative today. 1.3 to be exact. Thank fucking goodness. It only took 6 weeks post miscarriage to drop all the way. Fucking beta.
My IVF coordinator called me with the results and then started talking about plans for our upcoming cycle. I just wanted to cry into the phone that I couldn’t even begin to think about that today. I’ve got enough to deal with right now. More than enough.
A Brief Reprieve From the Funk October 16, 2005
As expected, this past week turned out to be really good for me. I worked my ass off, and we got a shitload done. We got my parent’s front yard, my grandparent’s front yard, and my parent’s neighbor’s front yard done in the first few days. My parent’s next door neighbor is currently in the hospital after having to have quadruple bypass surgery after evacuating from home. It felt good to help out.
We also got a ton accomplished in my parent’s backyard. Almost every one of their trees were down or coming down, so we got a good number of them down, cut up, and dragged to the curb. I cannot even begin to count the number of bags of leaves that we raked up, too.
It also felt good to work, I mean really work. My body is bruised, scraped up, and really sore, but it was so worth it. When I was outside hauling branches or doing one of the other forms of manual labor that made up the week’s work, I didn’t think about this infertility crap once. It was the first time in years that I was able to make that shit disappear at least for a little bit.
Some other highlights from the week included me getting a tetanus shot (boy, does that make your arm sore,) using a chainsaw for the first time (and I didn’t even lose any fingers,) and getting another car. My dad bought a new truck and gave us his car, so my husband and I are now a two car family. We have shared a car for almost 10 years thanks in part to these mounting IVF bills. Our second car will definitely come in handy when I have to make the 8 hour round trip drive to Houston numerous times when we do our next IVF cycle.
So, with things going well and me getting out of my funk, it was only a matter of time before I was brought back into the land of the stressed. I was planning on staying at my parent’s house until Saturday night, but I got a call from my husband when he got home from work on Friday letting me know that our old lady kitty, Dixie, wasn’t doing well. I hightailed it back home as soon as I got off of the phone.
Dixie is 17, so it’s no surprise that she’s not doing well, but it is so hard to watch. She’s fighting some kind of bad upper respiratory infection and is having a very hard time. We took her to the vet first thing Saturday morning, and she got some subq fluids, an antibiotic shot, and some antibiotics and an antihistamine to take at home.
She’s not doing any better today. She won’t eat or drink, can’t walk very much at all, and won’t even purr when I pet her. It’s breaking my heart to watch her just sit there limp and crying. If she doesn’t show any improvement by tomorrow, I’ll be taking her back to the vet.
I know 17 is very old for a cat (in fact, the receptionist at the vet’s office thought I had made a mistake when I put 1988 as her birth year) and I know she has lived a good and happy life. I just can’t stand the thought of losing her, though. I just can’t.
So, dealing with all of that plus coming home to be reminded of all of the other crap that I tried so hard to forget has got me feeling pretty darn badly again. It sucks when happiness is so damn hard to come by.
In a Major Funk October 7, 2005
I haven’t been doing fabulously the past few days. I know the symptoms of depression well, not because of my lovely degree in Psychology which I never use, but because I’ve lived it. I can feel myself slipping back into that dark hole, somewhere I never ever want to go again.
It’s not a good thing that I haven’t been able to do the simplest tasks or make the simplest decisions. It’s not a good thing that I’ve popped a Vicodin each of the past couple of days just to make me feel a little better. It’s not a good thing that I’m just not me right now.
I have no doubt that the change in hormones that happens when you go from being pregnant to no longer being pregnant helped jump start all of this. I’m sure the grief that accompanies a miscarriage doesn’t help either.
I know how bad this is, but I also know how bad it isn’t. I don’t know if that makes sense, but it does for me. I guess what I mean is that I can recognize what’s happening to me and what’s not good about the situation, but I can also recognize that the situation is not at the critical point right now. I’ve been there before, and I am not there right now. I guess this is my way of saying that I’ll know when/if I need outside help. I’m not there yet.
I guess it’s not surprising to take someone with not only a family history, but a personal history, of depression and put her through the hell I’ve been through and have her end up being depressed. I guess what I’m surprised about is that it’s taken this long to hit me.
I know I’ll be ok. I have no doubt. I will come out of this in one piece. Like everything else, it’s just going to take some time.
The good news of the week is that my parents and grandparents are now at home. They got power back and made the trip home on Wednesday. I’m sure they are all relieved to be sleeping in their own beds again.
My husband and I are making the trip over there tomorrow morning to help with the clean up effort. My husband will be coming back home on Sunday because of work, but I’ll be staying all week. I really think this will be good for me for a number of reasons. It always makes me feel good to help other people. Plus, it will be good for me to get outside and work my ass off. I’ve been working out a lot lately, but doing manual labor outside will do me good. I think the distraction from all of this infertility stuff won’t hurt either.
This is just another bump in the road. It’s a pretty big one, but there is more road to be traveled on the other side. I will make it over the bump and keep on my merry way someday, hopefully someday soon. I haven’t let any of the other bumps stand in my way, and I won’t let this one either.
Could This Drag On Any Longer? October 4, 2005
I really thought that my beta today at 4 weeks after my miscarriage would be negative. Hell, I thought it would be negative last week, but it came back at 17. You would think a week would be long enough for it to drop down from 17. Oh, but no. Things can’t be that easy.
Today’s magic number was 5.65. It has to be less than 3 to be considered negative. Do you think my RE’s office is going to let me get away with forgoing another beta? Nope. I have to go back again. Fuck!
It’s been six weeks since we learned that we weren’t going to have a happy ending from this last cycle. I’m ready to move on. I don’t feel like I can really do that when I have to keep going back for blood work every week. Who’d have ever thought I’d be wishing so much for a negative beta?
One More Time October 3, 2005
I think that’s the mantra of a lot of IVF vets, me included. Oh, you know where this is going, right? We’ve decided to do another cycle.
When we started with this IVF crap, we decided that we would do two fresh cycles and any FETs we could get from them. That was it, and we’d move on. After we had gotten through our two fresh cycles and resulting two FETs and still hadn’t found success, we decided that we’d do one more fresh cycle with a new RE so that we wouldn’t have any “what ifs” to worry about with regards to only doing cycles with one clinic. That was really going to be it, though. No more.
Well, we got pregnant. We had finally made it after all of that crap. And then as soon as it had come, it went away. It changed things, though. How could it not?
So, even though we said never again, we will be doing another fresh cycle. Shit, who would have thought I would have to add an IVF Part 6 category to my blog? No one ever thinks that it’s going to be them who ends up doing multiple IVF cycles. No one ever expects the worst, at least not at first. If you had told us before we had started our first cycle that we’d be doing a fourth fresh cycle down the road, we would have never believed it.
This is our reality, though. We’re not ready to give up, so on we go. I literally had to shake on it that this really would be the last fresh cycle, though.
We still have a few months to wait because of all of this miscarriage business, but it’s nice knowing that limboland will not last forever. We have another chance. Who knows what will happen with it. We may be devastated once again. The truth of the matter is, though, that it won’t ever work it we do nothing, so we’re going to give it another shot. Just one more time.