AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Baby preparation has been utterly overwhelming in the past few weeks. I've barely had time or energy to stop, think, feel, let alone write. It seems like we were coasting for a while and then suddenly had a deadline racing toward us (but an ambiguous one, which makes it even more stressful!). I feel disorganized, unfinished. stressed.

We finally put the nursery together two weekends ago. At 37 weeks pregnant, it was pushing it in my opinion, but we just kept not getting around to it. I felt great relief when the crib and dresser were put together and in place, and I was able to start washing baby clothes and bedding and set up the room. That relief was short-lived when I realized how much still needed to happen: putting together the changing table for downstairs, setting up both diaper stations, hanging things in the nursery, sorting out what toys and items we need right away versus which are for older ages and can stay stored in the basement a while longer, realizing we needed more bins and ways to store these items, trying to figure out how we re-arrange our own overflowing stuff in this cramped space so that we can fit in baby's stuff (WHERE WILL ALL THE BATH THINGS GO), figuring out where the litter box goes because we don't want it in our room where baby will be sleeping for a while and breathing it in yet we have no other good places, reorganizing the basement which we had just made into a beautiful guest area and now looks like a crazy storage zone after our baby shower, getting a carseat check which is apparently booked up at EVERY LOCATION until mid-June and then panicking about how well we were possibly figuring it out on our own, practicing buckling in a teddy bear, watching the infant CPR DVD my sister lent us, watching Happiest Baby on the Block my doula recommended and my parents had actually gotten us before we conceived, putting the cloth diapers through the mandatory five wash cycles (even though we don't need them right away, I won't be focused on that the first few weeks postpartum), putting finishing touches on the hospital bag so that we have everything we need, making sure we know what to do with the cord blood kit (free processing by the bank owned by our sperm bank so we just have to pay for the kit and shipping, $320!), waiting for our living room furniture which was supposed to be here in 3-5 weeks and the 5 week point just passed this weekend and WE HAVE NOTHING, bringing up the cradle from the basement and figuring out somewhere for it to go on the main level as a napping zone because we have no room upstairs, learning at 38 weeks that the glider that was going to be handed down to us no longer is and we now have nowhere upstairs (which is just bedrooms) to rock a fussy baby in the middle of the night until we figure out a new plan, choosing a mohel in case we have a boy, booking a newborn photographer, booking a maternity session which now at 39 weeks I'm just trying accept isn't going to happen.

On top of this, I have a stack of about fifteen pregnancy and childbirth books - most handed down and a few bought that I was really interested in - that I've barely touched in the "third trimester and birth" sections and feel super guilty about, like I'm not informing myself enough and not making use of these resources And my doula spent time teaching us all these exercises for keeping baby in optimal position and sent us a video for a routine that will help prepare my body for labor and I bought two prenatal yoga DVDs at 36 weeks so that I could relax and prepare my body in the last month, and I've had time for NONE OF THIS. Or maybe I don't MAKE time for it. I get home late from work, cook, feel exhausted, and just want to relax with TV the last couple of hours. If I have energy or time to do something more, it's one of the million tasks listed above (of which I've currently completed about 5%) and certainly not the self-care I claim to value so much, the ways I can soothe and prepare my body for labor and read and prepare myself mentally for it. Those get pushed to the wayside.

I broke down to my wife today and she was such an amazing support. Generally she is the one stressing about how the house looks and the tasks ahead, and it can make her irritable and snippy and unpleasant to be around. This time it's me, pregnancy-induced as it may be, and it helps me empathize with her because I can't imagine feeling like this about life all the time! I had gone upstairs to change into pajamas before she shut the lights to go to bed, and when I went to the bathroom, she called out, "Are you okay?" She really meant physically, because she's been worried about my exhaustion and near-constant Braxton Hicks (after only having like five ever in my pregnancy until the past week) and sudden inability to do much after making it 37 weeks being quite limber and active and comfortable. But I just said, "Cranky. I feel cranky and irritable and that's not like me. I don't like feeling this way. Is it okay that I'm feeling this way?" And she came out of the bedroom to meet me in the hall and hug me and said, "Of course it's okay, you're 39 weeks pregnant! Be cranky! What's bothering you?" And I went into all of the above. I love my wife to death, but she is not generally known to know the right things to say or to be the strong one in our relationship. But boy did that kick in when she saw I needed it, that I was the one who needed a rock this time. She reassured me while also not minimizing my stress, and gave realistic solutions to almost everything I said. Most of which were, "I'll take care of that this week/when I come home for a shower and to feed the cats while you're at the hospital/with Dad in the first few days after baby. It'll be okay and I'll take care of it. You don't need to worry about anything."

I'm so, so, so excited and ready for this baby to join our lives. We both can barely stand the excitement. I love seeing my wife kissing and talking to my abdomen, saying, "Come let us meet you, we love you and miss you!!!" And yet the pressure of feeling my home, my nest, isn't ready is killing me. I'd like to write about the incredible baby shower our families threw for us, and the one my coworkers threw for me that incorporated so much about my personality and preferences and current dietary restrictions that I felt so known and loved. I'd like to write about the excitement of our temple community who are on the edge of their seats, waiting for the Friday night they DON'T see us and know it's time, checking in with us excitedly and happily every week. I'd like to write about the snuggly moments in bed with my wife and our baby-to-be nudging against her hand when she talks to it, moving around at the inflections in my wife's voice as she reads to our friends' two-year-old daughter, dancing as it listens to us singing to the radio (so much more active when we're singing along than when we're not). I'd like to write about finding a mohel, and my anxiety regarding circumcision despite my certainty about our decision. I'd like to write about the experience of working with our doula and all the amazing empowerment and support that has provided us already. But my head is swarming with tasks, to-do's, unfinished business, and I went over a month not processing anything here. Losing those moments that I would love to be able to relive in ten or twenty years through my descriptive writing. Losing the opportunity to revel in them and think through them in the way that only writing can help me do.

Is this what parenting will be like too? Will it feel like frantic chaos that I'm constantly lagging behind in preparations for? Will I always be stressing about the next thing I need to do, or the things I should have done but haven't? Or is this pregnancy-induced panic that is part of trying to prepare for something that is about to turn our world upside down, and then after the birth, I will let go of some of this need for perfection and just start enjoying it and realizing I have everything I need? I'm hoping the latter, because this way of feeling and being is out of character for me. I'm glad it didn't take over until the end and that I got to fully enjoy and revel in pregnancy for the vast majority of this journey. Now I need to let my wife be my rock, allow and trust her to lighten my load, and try to stay focused and calm on the transformative experience right around the corner.

Settling into Our Traditions

This is the second holiday season since I converted, and the third since we stopped celebrating Christmas in our own household. The first Christmas, before my conversion and when I had just begun my Intro to Judaism classes, was made underwhelming just by circumstance; we had just moved into our house in early December and life was too chaotic to get a Christmas tree and to find our boxes of decorations. We realized it wasn’t so bad and we didn’t miss it so much because we had enough of it in the rest of the world, and that helped us the next year when we skipped celebrating much more intentionally.

Last year was the first year we deliberately did not get a Christmas tree or Christmas gifts for each other, and I had to grapple with the question of how we create our own traditions and what traditions we can share with family, which traditions we want to try to keep consistent from year to year and which will be flexible depending on whose family we can be with. I feel a little more grounded in that this year, but also still open to changes. Basically we are creating our own Hanukkah traditions and letting Christmas be more open since it’s not our holiday, but our families’ which we participate in secondarily. Some years we may go to my in-laws’ for the traditional Christmas morning bagels and gift exchange; other times, like this year, we won’t go over til mid-afternoon when the other siblings are going over there, and we will have dinner together. Some years we will travel south to visit my parents since our child will be out of school for winter break. I’m not worried anymore about “confusing” our child with whatever happens that day in whichever family member’s home; I feel confident in and comfortable with what we have begun setting up, and grateful for all the love and culture-sharing among family that our child will get to be surrounded by.

Nicole’s brother and his wife, who will raise their children Catholic, will continue coming over to our house for the Passover seder every year. That will be in their kids’ memories, and yet their kids won’t be confused about whether they are Jewish or Catholic. They will know they are coming over to celebrate our holiday with us since we are family. Likewise, our child will not wake up to a Christmas tree and piles of presents on Christmas or have anything else happening at home or within our family that makes them think they are Christian, but they will have memories of how they spend Christmas with their extended family. They will certainly look forward to having dinner with relatives and exchanging some gifts with them. And they might even find the sparkly attraction of Christmas more appealing than Hanukkah. I would be naive if I didn't expect that. Despite its crucially important message about preserving our faith and culture against all pressure and threats, Hanukkah is a minor holiday in the Jewish calendar, and I don't want for us to blow it further out of proportion than it already is in a misguided effort to compete with Christmas. We have our own major holidays, and our child's sense of how being Jewish is honored and celebrated and observed comes from an entire year of rituals, not just this one holiday that may be culturally overshadowed by Christmas (and not without reason - the birth of a savior is understandably a bigger deal; there is not even anything temple-based in the observance of Hanukkah). 

But at Christmas, we will have just recently finished our holiday of light, telling the story of Hanukkah and remembering the importance of maintaining culture and resisting total assimilation. We will have our newly created tradition of having a Hanukkah dinner on the weekend - how nice that there is always a weekend since it’s an 8-day holiday! We will give our child a gift every night, some much smaller than others, and we will also spend that time as a family around the menorah each night, talking and reading and playing games as the candles burn low. We will make latkes on the weekend. We will donate the tzedakah (charity) we’ve been saving all year. We will go to that week’s Shabbat service and watch the big menorah be lit and sing Hanukkah songs with our community. We will attend the synagogue’s family Hanukkah party. And within days or weeks of that festivity coming to an end, we will continue enjoying the larger culture around us - the prettiness of our neighbors’ Christmas lights, the music and decorations in stores and friends’ homes, the Christmas cards that come pouring in from loved ones. We will enjoy it as many non-Jewish people enjoy driving and walking through Williamsburg Brooklyn in the fall to see the sukkahs set up outside Orthodox homes, or as Westerners enjoy going through Chinatown during the hugely celebrated and brightly decorative Chinese New Year.

We are a pluralistic society, and I love that. As much as I love Israel and look forward to traveling there someday, and as much as I think it must also be nice to have most people around you joining in your celebrations, I wouldn’t want to be separated from other cultures. I have always loved learning about and participating in other cultures, while not appropriating them as my own.

Winter is a dark, dreary time, and it’s beautiful that several cultures have festivals of light and giving and family and celebration for us to look forward to and to keep us going until the days begin lengthening again. 

What's Next? (Is "planning for the unknown" an oxymoron?)

Realizing that I’m not even halfway through pregnancy is strange, because I feel like I’ve been pregnant for AGES, but nearing the halfway mark next week is still a reality check that THERE IS SO MUCH WE NEED TO DO. We still have an English-immersion student living in what will be the nursery (she’s been with us since September) and we haven’t even measured the room for furniture. We do have a plan for where she will go when we need to start setting up the nursery, but it feels strange that our designated room isn’t even really accessible yet for planning or fantasizing.

We are frantically saving up the $2500 needed for second-parent adoption (still necessary for travel to states and countries where our marriage is not recognized), $1200 for our doula who we will be interviewing next weekend, $1600 for wills etc. with our attorney, and approximately $3200 for two months’ worth (4 vials) of donor sperm if we want to guarantee having the same donor available for a possible second child. (What if we end up needing more than that? But we can’t afford it! This is all I can allow myself to budget for in the mad race to save.)

We also have yet to figure out our day care plan. Every time someone asks, “So what will you do for child care? You know you need to be planning that YESTERDAY because day care centers have waiting lists, right?” I panic and have an internal meltdown. The problem is we don’t really even know what we need yet. Will we be able to afford for me to go to work part-time somewhere? And will I even find something local that accommodates me in that way? If so, will the child care provider be able to do just a few hours a day, or will that take away from a possible full-time client they would prefer to have? What would those hours look like? I don’t know if I’m asking a provider to just have our child three full days a week, or four or five mid-afternoons (if I work from 3-7 somewhere), or something else. If I get an afternoon gig in Long Island that I have to drive to, how will my wife pick up the baby from daycare when she gets home at 5:30 with no car? We can’t afford a second car on part-time income! If I need to go back full-time, will I find something close to home, cutting down on my current three hour total commute? Will I be able to work 8-4 somewhere? Will I NOT find something before my maternity leave is up and end up having to go back to work in the Bronx for a few months before taking a whole different work schedule when I do find something? Will the child care provider be able to be flexible and agreeable to all eight thousand possible scenarios we are facing???

I love my job but am also ready and okay with moving on at this point. I’m glad I stayed here when I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else a few years ago (the critical point to leave if I was going to leave and accrue new benefits elsewhere before having a child). It’s comfortable, I have a flexible and supportive environment that has allowed me to go through the crazy and unpredictable schedule of fertility treatments, and I get unusually great benefits for a social service agency. I have five weeks’ vacation, five sick weeks a year plus up to five additional weeks I can save in a sick bank, three personal days, and all the major Jewish holidays off. I have a pension plan and a life insurance policy paid by my employer. I can take five months off with my baby and have my position guaranteed when I return. I have my own office (very rare in this field) and a comfortable environment. I have so many friends here.

But I also have to travel an hour and a half each way every day. I have to pay $242 per month on my railroad pass, in addition to subway fare. I have to be on call every few months, getting phone calls throughout the night for five days. I have to work until 7:00 one night a week every other month. I’m not guaranteed to leave at 5:00 any other day because crises pop up unpredictably in foster care. My heart hurts worse and worse with the emotional burden of this work as I bring my own child into the world. I am realizing that being a supervisor is something I love in many capacities (when I feel empowered to make real changes and impact on my staff and with the cases) but hate in others (I’m weak with staff confrontation, get really anxious and procrastinate on disciplinary action, fall behind other supervisors on ensuring workers’ mandates are being met even though I am ahead of most others in ensuring my own are met).

I want to get back into direct practice, and I want to learn something other than foster care. I’m passionate about it, but I’m passionate about it because this is the job I happened to land right out of school and I went into it with everything I have. I have the ability to be passionate about other areas of social work also, and a big part of the appeal of an MSW to me was how versatile it is, how very many different things you can do with it: gerontology, mental health, schools, hospitals, prisons and juvenile justice, immigration, domestic violence, homelessness, HIV/AIDS, LGBT, children and families, individual and group therapy, policy work, research, advocacy. I have always been attracted to the doors open to me as a social worker, but I felt safe and comfortable and passionate in my first job and have stayed here. I don’t regret that because I have been able to serve my clients better and better with each year of experience I get. I don’t want to spend my life dabbling, I WANT to have a focused passion and area of expertise. But it’s okay for that to change once in a while, and now might be a good opportunity. I also know that I work for the cream of the crop in child welfare, and moving to a more local agency still doing foster care is likely to leave me feeling dissatisfied, frustrated, and overwhelmed in comparison to what I left.

I’m glad I stayed here. I’m glad I got all this experience under my belt in an organization where I felt safe and cared for. My resume is very well-padded with the various positions I’ve held here. I’ve also accrued maximum vacation and sick time from all my years here, so I knew I either needed to leave years ago (when I was NOT ready) or stay until I had a baby. But now I’m in a position of planning for the birth of my child while also having to plan a major career change, and that is more than a little overwhelming. When I first got pregnant, I told myself I could just come back to this job after my maternity leave and then start looking, so that I wouldn’t have the pressure of that while on leave and the anxiety of it while pregnant. But the looming reality is that I do not want to spend even one day leaving the house at 7:00 and getting home at 6:30 earliest. I do not want to spend even one week on-call, handling crises at two in the morning with a cranky baby at my breast. I do not want to return after five months away and feel disconnected and checked out because I’m so antsy to move on. I do not want to catch up on my cases just to leave them a couple months later. I want to go into a fresh start.

And this means I have no choice but to be thinking about it now. I’m trying very hard not to obsess over it, because I can’t interview now so it’s not something I can control at the moment. I have to trust that things will fall into place, and do my part in making that happen when the time comes. But the child care dilemma makes this difficult to do.

My strong preference is to go with someone who watches two or three children from their home, like my mother and my wife’s mother did when we were young. I have two possibilities, recommendations from our neighbor and from my mother-in-law’s secretary, so I need to start with calling them and running over all the possible day care needs we will have, and see how flexible they can be. I have to start there, because maybe one will say, “Part-time, in any arrangement, will be fine and I will charge accordingly. I’m also open to doing full-time if that’s what you need. Just let me know when you know!” Wow, just imagining hearing that takes a weight off my shoulder. I can only hope!

Empty Summer

I know I've been very absent the past month. Since finding out we weren't pregnant a fourth time, and knowing we'd now have to pay off the half of this cycle that we'd charged PLUS save up for the next, I've just been too emotional. It will probably be November-ish before we can afford another round. We're still in the paying-off stage, and then have about $4,000 to save up. So far $12,000 has been flushed down the toilet. Just gone in a blink, with nothing to show for it.

Since we had to switch sperm anyway (the only factor we can try changing at this stage since everything else has checked out fine), we decided to change banks while we're at it, because why not? What if that bank just doesn't do as good of a job at collecting or storing? It can't hurt. Except that it does financially, because our bank was the cheapest around. We're going from $470 a vial to over $700. Since we need two vials per try, that difference adds up, considering we were already struggling to save up what we needed before. We have also taken a break from being a host family for international students; the break has been wonderful for our marriage and our sanity while my wife starts a new job and we deal with the emotional fallout of this last failed attempt, but there is also much less money coming in now. That was a second job of sorts that is now on hold. We also just got bills for over $1300 in bloodwork from my initial work-up that are being denied by my insurance company. I already tried to appeal, and the denial stands.

I have a whole story to share around the donor I chose, but I don't want to expend the emotional energy in writing about it when we are most likely only giving it one shot. If I have several eggs and there is a good amount of sperm and it still doesn't work after changing donors, we are going to have to go a different route. I'm smitten for this guy, would love for him to be connected to our child and excited for our child to meet him one day. I have a really good feeling about him, more so than the last guy, whose biggest selling point was that we knew someone who had used him as a donor. We didn't have that bias this time so we had to choose just based on everything else, and I'm really excited about him. It even makes me feel like maybe the last guy didn't work for a reason - maybe this is the guy our child is meant to be connected to. But I don't even want to write about all that, how we chose him and what I love about him, because we are only giving it one shot with him. That's all we can afford. We can't keep throwing money into something that just isn't working, so he's got one shot. And that scares me. I'm already so attached.

I'm a disaster and could really use therapy, but the $40 a week copay adds up to more than I can afford right now if I ever want to save this money up. I've had two different people swear by acupuncture (improves blood flow to help healthy maturation of eggs and healthy building of the lining), saying they had trouble conceiving and ended up getting pregnant the first cycle after undergoing treatment. But I went for a consultation Saturday (she's an M.D. a five-minute walk from my house who specializes in fertility issues) and learned that the discount package is $600 for ten sessions. And for it to be effective, you need weekly sessions for three months leading up to insemination, and then three times the week of the procedure (before and after insemination, and then around implantation time). Everything I can do to help myself costs more money, and I feel frustrated, sad, and defeated.

My agency just changed its maternity leave policy, effective 9/15/15, so that you can only carry over two weeks of vacation into the next fiscal year. Currently, at any given point, you can hold your amount of vacation plus two weeks that you carried over before you start losing unused vacation. But as of 9/15/15 and then every July 1, you will lose all but two weeks going into that next year. I would have to get pregnant in August in order to be able to use all my paid vacation time that I've been so carefully hoarding so that I can afford taking my full leave (five months max). We can't afford to even try in August. So now I have to worry about how I will afford to take five months off if only three months of it are paid instead of the four-and-a-half that I'd originally calculated, or else have a total meltdown at facing going back to work before five months. And we used to be able to take a six-month leave prior to this year, so that's already been a blow.

I'm an emotional wreck these days, and am grateful for my friend and coworker (who just had an embryo transfer this week for her first round of IVF) because we go to each other's offices to break down all the time. It makes ALL the difference to have someone who gets it - and not from the other side just saying "it will happen, don't worry," but in it right now, knowing the anxiety and stress of it, feeling it daily and not just as a memory with the knowledge of hindsight and having answers.

I'm trying to distract myself. Much of the time I'm successful. Much of the time I'm overwhelmed in the chaos of my work, or absorbed in "Breaking Bad" and other such entertainment escapes, or spending time with family and friends and just feeling total joy at life and beautiful weather and people I love and the simple pleasures of watching my rosebush bloom and having a purring cat on my chest in the mornings. Because the very nature of who I am is just not able to be squelched, even by this, and  I am at my core a grateful and joyful human being. But I have moments in between those moments, brief as they may be, where I completely and utterly break.

This is how I've been distracting myself since the last negative pregnancy test:

Going with friends on a high ropes course, something I couldn't do if pregnant

Representing my synagogue at Long Island Pride - the first year and something we've been asked to keep organizing on an annual basis, so I feel like I was able to be part of something meaningful

Blissing out in the gorgeous Vermont countryside for my birthday, thanks to my cousins' generous offer for us to stay at their vacation home so we could afford to get away

Spending a few days with my sister, brother-in-law, and sweet baby niece

Gardening - enjoying both the process and the fruits of my labors

And enjoying the sweetness and affection of my two amazing little cats

I'm breaking, but I'm not broken. I'm resilient. I am grateful for what I have, and I'm finding and thoroughly enjoying opportunities to express and share love and to appreciate life. I'm also nurturing myself enough to allow myself the emotional breakdowns when they come, without feeling ashamed or rushing myself out of them. I let them pass over me like ocean waves, indulge in them as much as I need to for that moment, and then I continue on. 

Because what else can I do?

Round 4 and Still a Mess

I was okay for a while, really. I was very optimistic that we'd given ourselves the best chance we could, but also knew that the worst case scenario still meant knowing what to do next. I haven't felt any symptoms this time - no nipple soreness or breast tenderness from the progesterone, which is a first. A little odd, and I guess that COULD make me freak out, but honestly I just saw it as, "well at least something's different this time!" and kind of let it go.

Then this morning my lower back started aching, and it got progressively worse throughout the day. Nicole and I took a walk through town after dinner since the weather is cool and gorgeous, and that eased it a bit, and then it got worse again after I got home. I'm over a week from when my period would be due, so that can't be it. And it's pretty severe.

So that's when I did The Dreaded Thing. The thing everyone warns me against, and that I know I shouldn't do.

I Googled.

I Googled "early signs of conception within one week of fertilization" and saw this:

"Backache
Backache is a similar symptom as cramping.  Some women just feel this aching in their backs.  When implantation takes place the egg burrows into the lining of the uterus.  This process can cause cramping and other aches and pains, like a low backache.  A backache around the time of implantation could be an early sign of conception. Early symptoms, the ones that happen shortly after conception, tend to feel like PMS but more exaggerated."

It's been seven days. Implantation occurs between seven and ten days after. It's just ever so possible. And yet I know that I have taken things as indicators in the last cycles that clearly weren't. I know that it's too early to really know anything. I know that I will never have an explanation for some of the other "symptoms" in previous cycles, so no matter how much I talk myself into this meaning something because it can't be random...it may mean nothing and just be random. I know all of that, yet I can't help it. My mind and my heart are made for hope, and I had quite a bit of it before this even happened. 

I'm approaching this with caution, of course. Part of me feels a sense of dread about even having something to overthink. I was more relaxed when there was nothing.

The Importance of Support

I can't say enough how glad I am that we have let the people close to us be part of this journey.

We ran into one of Nicole's coworkers in the waiting room once, someone she had never really spoken to before, and instantly bonded over this shared struggle. We have hung out with them several times now and appreciate having someone else who gets it and is in it right now. We check in with each other all the time.

My closest friends think to reach out to me once in a while to ask how it's going and how I'm holding up. This morning my best friend sent me a text with just hearts, which I received as I was waiting for the sperm to be washed. She was thinking of me at that very moment and just wanted me to know that.

My family is rooting for us nonstop and allow me to fill their phones with group texts at every stage of the process. They are excited and encouraging at every step, never telling me not to get excited or not to get my hopes up.

Our cantor didn't even blink when I asked him during Tikkun Leil Shavuot if I could use the privacy of his office to take my 9:00 injection at the break.

My coworker who had five IUI cycles before conceiving keeps an open door so I can come have a "moment" in her office after getting the official call in the middle of a workday. She helps put me back together and gives me the space to grieve for a bit before facing the rest of the day.

My other coworker, who is struggling to conceive their third and is doing IUI, checks in weekly to see what is going on with us and to share her own challenges. She is someone with whom I never have to feel like I'm talking about it too much.

Our friends A&A are our only same-sex-parenting friends, our only friends who have been here and can give us a different perspective than anyone else can. They also gave us a hand-done Chinese fertility drawing that they used when they were going through this to hang in our bedroom, and heaps of books and magazines.

This is tough stuff, and I can't imagine going it alone. Being surrounded by love and support and positive energy keeps us uplifted when we most need it.

Clarity

As I wrote about Sunday, my initial Day 10 exam showed one egg at 13mm so I was told to come back Tuesday. The nurse did mention that I had an unusual number of immature follicles, about 22 on each ovary. She said 4 to 7 is normal and asked if I have polycystic ovaries. I said I had never been diagnosed with it, and she said that because my hormones are normal and I ovulate regularly and have regular periods, I probably don't have polycystic ovarian syndrome but could have polycystic ovaries which is different. I said that I would imagine someone would have mentioned this to me before now if I typically have that many follicles because I've had many, many sonograms by this point, and could it be the Clomid giving me more? She said that's possible, and that since this is her first scan, I should ask my regular sonographer what my baseline is, though there is nothing to worry about either way.

Well, apparently it WAS the Clomid. I went back in Tuesday and had FOUR mature follicles! They were at 10mm, 13mm, 15.5mm, and 21mm. And my lining was thick and beautiful. I'd had no side effects from the Clomid, but the lowest dose made me produce four eggs?? I was so shocked and just so, so happy because now we could be in a better place to figure out what direction we want to go if this round doesn't work.

I was also starting to surge, so the nurse told me to take my injection between 8:30 and 9:00 that night and to go in Thursday morning at 8:30 for the procedure. The last three times, I've been told to take the injection that night and go in the next morning, and then I end up having to go in again the following day because my egg hasn't dropped yet. So maybe they are starting to figure out my body's patterns and realized there was no point in doing IUI the next day and that I might as well give the shot its full 36 hours in my body before doing it. I was off of work for Shavuot and we had already bought the other vial, so I kind of wish they had just done me both days anyway, just in case!

babymaking tools

I felt ovulation pangs Tuesday afternoon, but it wasn't a surprise that the 21mm was ready to pop. I just kept hoping that the rest wouldn't be released for another day, and at their current size, that should be a safe assumption. There was no sonogram today since they didn't need to determine whether I should come in the next day, so I don't really know for sure how many eggs were still there or if any were already released.

Today was a simpler process than ever before. I got there a little early, as always, and this time they went ahead and started thawing it as soon as I got in instead of waiting until my appointment time. There was also only one other person in the waiting room, and usually it's half-full to full. I got in quickly and, because there was no sonogram, the procedure was quick. And I didn't even feel it, which has only happened one other time (not feeling anything is a good sign since your cervix is softest when you're ovulating). And the nurse let me know that there were 15 MILLION sperm this time! We have never had more than 10, and even that was only once. It's been around 8 every time.

With 15 million motile sperm and hopefully 3 viable eggs...I think it's safe to say that if this round doesn't work, we will be willing to consider switching donors. And really that's what I needed most: direction. We've been floundering trying to figure out how far to take this and what the next step should be. But our chances are really maximized right now, so we both feel pretty confident in trying something different if this doesn't work. Of course I've been praying for pregnancy, because how could I not, but I don't see God as a wish-fulfiller so I've prayed more for direction, for certainty in what we should do next.

Shavuot put me in such a peaceful and receptive place yesterday, and I have let the stress melt away. I went into this in a different state of mind and am hopeful and positive, both because we have an improved chance of pregnancy with these improved numbers, and because no matter what the outcome is, we know what to do next.

laying down on the ride home

So now what?

I met with the doctor two days after my pregnancy test, as scheduled, and she told me that she expected it to have happened by now, that I have been checked for everything that it is possible to check, and so has the sperm, so it should be happening. She recommended starting Clomid and went over the side effects with me, both the common and the rare but severe. She said that it would give more opportunities for fertilization, and then I should move on quickly if that isn't working either. She also suggested choosing a new donor, stating that it's possible that this sperm just isn't a match for my body. She said that she normally can't suggest this as an early-on solution because couples with a male partner would obviously not be quick to give up on his sperm. But we have "the luxury" of trying a switch there to see if that works.

I tried to explain to her, without investing too much energy into getting her to understand the emotional stakes, that choosing a donor was a very intensive process. We put a lot into it and it was very difficult to find the perfect one, and we're hesitant to give up on it and start all over with a donor search if we really just need to be patient for a couple more months. So she suggested doing one Clomid cycle with this donor, and then a second with a new donor if that doesn't work, and then if it STILL doesn't work, we should look at IVF. Of course this rushed plan assumes that my body actually responds to the Clomid and makes two to three eggs in each of these two additional cycles, which, spoiler alert, it hasn't yet.

I bristled at the mention of IVF. I just don't think I'm ready to go there yet. It's so intense and puts my body through so much - and while I won't hesitate to do it if I am truly convinced that that's my only way to achieve pregnancy, there's something about it that feels more artificial and disturbs me just a bit. Not enough to never do it, but enough not to want to jump to it prematurely as a shortcut. It's also super expensive, and since if I AM infertile it would be "unexplained infertility," my insurance won't cover it this early on. I just don't think I'm ready to be at my last resort. It's only been three tries!

I was taking one pill prior to this journey. ONE.

Another option is a recently offered known donor. My wife's friend's husband has always wanted to donate, and his wife said this would be the only way she would feel comfortable with it, if it is to help friends she knows personally. They live in Massachusetts and would be someone that our child could have access to but wouldn't grow up around or be close with. We could get a few free tries out of this (the cost of travel and hotel stay during a fertile week would still be so insignificant compared to our current fertility expenses), and if that didn't work - with a new donor and using fresh sperm as frequently as we need to - then we could embrace the "unexplained infertility" and discuss IVF. (We could even be saving up for that in the meantime, just in case.)

But this is STILL not something I just want to jump to. What if my body just needs a little more time? It's the doctor's job not to let people just put their money in a sinkhole without suggesting trying something different. That's their agenda. But my agenda is stubbornly spending more money than we have on something that hasn't been working. What is the middle ground? Who is right? I don't think there's any way to tell unless I could live in a parallel universe and try both options to see what works first. But we don't have that luxury, and we have to make a decision. At what point do we give up on our cherished donor? At what point do we give up on IUI? At what point do we give up on using a clinic and suck up the complications of using a known donor? We could make a sharp left turn and never know that that was the month it would have worked if we'd stayed the course. Every month that we have to decide whether to make a life-altering, future-altering change to our plans, we have the nagging question, "But what if this next month would be the one when it works?"

The pressure is more than either of us can stand right now. We feel at a breaking point. What I DO know is that, as per my sonogram this morning, this low dose of Clomid did nothing for me and I have only one egg to try with this month. So I'm trying to relax and do this "one more cycle" without worrying about the what-ifs, because if it doesn't work, we will unfortunately have a few months off to think it all through a million times over.

Hand-drawn Chinese fertility art that A&A passed on to us and is now hanging up next to our bed. Note the phallic image pointing right toward the empty tunnel, and the babies pouring out of the other tunnel. Classic.

Annnnnd the Envy Sets In

I was not surprised at this third negative pregnancy test, because the few symptoms that had started to give me hope began to disappear the weekend before. As my breast tenderness decreased dramatically within a few days, I could only assume that my natural levels of progesterone were beginning to drop, and that any residual soreness was due to the supplement. I was so convinced that I didn't even have that tough of a time waiting until the day of the blood test before taking a home test. And I didn't even cry. I felt disappointed and I felt sad, but it was a continuation of the disappointment and sadness that I'd been feeling for several days since I felt my body getting ready for a period.

I didn't cry for an entire week, until the night we went out to dinner with my friend Allyson and her husband and they announced that they were having a baby. Now it hit me. I smiled and squealed and congratulated her and kept talking excitedly in order to keep myself distracted and keep my bubbling emotions under control. She said that they were planning to do a big reveal at that Saturday's housewarming party but that she didn't want me caught off guard in a crowd because she knows how sensitive this is. I reassured her, because I really don't want to take away from her joy and don't want her to have to walk on eggshells around me because I'm not pregnant yet. I already know that when it's my turn, there are people struggling to conceive that I will have difficulty sharing the news with. I don't want her to feel that way, even though I know it's natural.

But this is the first time such news DID really hurt. I think it's because we haven't been in this place when other people close to us have gotten pregnant. I might have been emotionally ready, but we weren't financially so we hadn't started trying. Yes, I was impatient for it to be our turn, but I knew our turn was coming, and soon, so it didn't take anything away from my genuine joy for the parents-to-be. It never felt like it had anything to do with me. We hadn't started down that path yet, so it wasn't a race!

But this time, we have. No, it's still not a race, but it's not just a matter of "when." It's a matter of how, and how much, and what do we do next, and when do we draw a line and try something else, and will this happen before my agency's maternity leave policy drastically changes for the worse in exactly one year. And this is a friend who started trying at the same time as me. She came off of birth control the same month we first went for insemination, and we talked excitedly about raising kids side by side and even being pregnant together. She hasn't kept me updated since then, so I had assumed it hadn't happened for them yet either and she just didn't want to talk about it. But that wasn't why she didn't want to talk about it.

So she got pregnant the first time. She came off her birth control, made love to her husband, and conceived a child. Just like that. I've taken odd comfort in knowing that even for straight couples, it isn't so easy. That it isn't always a romantic sexual experience. That it can be frustrating and a lot of pressure and can up-end people's sex lives when they have to follow a schedule and consummate on demand. But my friend had the best case scenario, and I'm struggling to be happy for her. I would never, ever wish this on her, but I am feeling envious. And going to her party where half of their friends had babies with them did not ease it. My heart hurt and my arms felt empty. I felt sad watching her be welcomed into the fold of young parents and knowing our own circle is waiting impatiently with us for us to join them.

It's easy to say "be patient, your time will come" - but we are now $12,000 in and have no idea when this will happen. We've run out of money. We had to charge half of this final cycle, and if it doesn't work, will have to take a break for a few months to save up all over again for even one or two more cycles. There is a lot at stake that makes it very difficult to just let go.
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Am I Supposed to be Envious and Bitter?

Many people have extended sympathy to me around events like Mother's Day, the birth of my niece, and baby showers. They say, "I know that must be hard for you." Or they avoid saying it to me because they're nervous to provoke an emotional outpouring from me, so they say it to Nicole. It makes me feel like there is something wrong with me that these things DON'T bother me. At all.

My niece has made me an aunt and has allowed me the opportunity to watch my sister become a beautiful mother. My heart soared at knowing Felicity was in the world, and at seeing my sister's much-fought-for dream come true. This little girl has added so much light to my life.

Mother's Day felt like it does every year; it gave me an opportunity to appreciate my mother and mother-in-law, and didn't feel like something that was supposed to be for ME. And this year it allowed me to appreciate and feel excited about my sister and best friend being honored on this day for the first time. It doesn't apply to me yet, so I just didn't think of myself.

Baby showers give me the chance to celebrate something momentous in the lives of people close to me. I just glow watching my friends smile and soak it up. This is their moment.

Am I supposed to be envious? Am I supposed to begrudge others their joy because I'm not there yet? Because I just don't. It doesn't ever feel like it's about me in any way, no more than it ever has. Maybe this is because I've only begun trying recently, and while frustrated, I'm certainly not at a point where I feel like it's an all-consuming stressor, or where I am doubting whether it will ever happen for me.

Maybe it's like being at a wedding when you're single at 36 after a lifetime of failed relationships, versus being at a wedding when you're in a relationship but not engaged yet. The first person may be a little more emotional or sensitive because they have truly started to wonder whether this will ever happen for them and are having a tough time watching it seemingly happen for everyone else, while the second person is confident of marriage being their imminent path so it doesn't bother them in the same way. I know we will be parents, and I feel pretty confident that this will happen through pregnancy. And in the meantime, the rest of life goes on and I feel only joy at being part of the lives of my friends and family, no matter what their journeys and what they have.

Now ask me again in six months, and maybe my answer will be different!

Can't Stop Myself!!!

I've been pretty chill for the past week. I've gone the majority of my days without thinking about this, and have been very productive and focused at work. My wife also was just offered (and accepted) a new job, so I've been caught up in helping her deal with indecisiveness and anxiety and insecurity and grief. I've been comforting her and reassuring her and encouraging her. In fact, I've gotten so swept up in actual life that it seems like my IUI procedure was WAY more than a week ago. All of a sudden I'll realize how many days I still have left before I find out, and it seems impossibly far away. Not even because I'm anxious, but simply because it feels like how could it have only been a week? It's such a distant memory!

So I've been good with not trying to think about symptoms etc. We set up a game plan for if it doesn't happen this time, and I've been in a place of mostly assuming it hasn't. A place of resignation. Even when I had a sharp pain in my lower right abdomen a few days ago that had me almost doubled over while walking down the hall at work. Because really, what could that be? Yes, it was in the right spot, but whatever is potentially happening in there is microscopic. So it had to be random. Then when I felt a pinching feeling there today, same thing. That's not something I've ever heard about, and it just doesn't make sense that I'd be feeling something like that.

Then today I was running down the subway stairs to catch a train and my breasts were so sore as they bounced. I'm an A cup, people. Bouncing is very minimal and doesn't hurt or bother me in the slightest. Even at home, as I walk around, they are sore. But not to the touch. I try pressing on them and don't feel much, but just moving around, they feel very tender. And oddly, much of the tenderness is at the sides, which is not a typical place I feel it when I get some sensitivity around my period. But I'm on progesterone supplements, so this isn't anything to overthink, and certainly not anything to trust.

So why am I starting to feel that dreaded glimmer of hope? I've done so well for a week!! And now the next week may slowly become torment again, followed by a horrible crash. I'm setting myself up to be a disappointed fool again, but I can't seem to help it.

Cycle 3

Last cycle, I ovulated earlier than expected. I went in for my first check on Day 11 and was already surging and ready to go on Day 12. So this time they told me to come in on Day 10 just to be sure we don't miss it since we cut it so close last month. Day 10 was on a Sunday, so we had to drive out to the Melville office 30 minutes east, as our location isn't open on Sundays. My follicle was only 13mm (remember, 20-22 is typical at ovulation, and so far I've been at 18 the day prior to insemination) so I wasn't surprised to get the official call with my bloodwork results and instructions not to come back for another check until Tuesday.

Today, Tuesday, Day 12, I went back in and my follicle was only 16mm. Last cycle I was ovulating on Day 12, and this time I wasn't even close! The PA told me I probably wouldn't need to come back until Thursday for another check, but of course they would assess for sure after getting my bloodwork back and would call me later in the day. So I understandably figured that meant IUI Friday and/or Saturday.

Well, we've learned a couple things now, haven't we. One, that the PA tends to talk before she should, and frequently has to correct herself after speaking too soon. And two, that my body is unpredictable and does whatever the frig it wants and we can't really base much on prior cycles.

So while I had already packed my Ovidrel injection in a lunchbox to take to work so I would never be caught without it when I got the call, I had actually felt silly bringing it today, knowing I was only at 16mm and would be bringing it right back home. I did not expect the call at 1:30PM saying that I was surging and needed to come in the next day. I said, "But my follicle is only 16mm!" and the nurse said, "but you're starting to surge so you're going to ovulate. You ovulated on Day 12 last month, and tomorrow's Day 13 so it's not so unusual." Well yes, except that the PA seemed to think it was a couple days off still due to my follicle size. I wasn't second-guessing it out of nowhere! She said, "Unfortunately, we can't get you in until 9:30." I said, "9:30 is fine." She said, "Really?? No one ever thinks that's fine!"

I guess that makes sense for people who can't take off of work and want to go in at 7:00 and get to work by 9:00. It's different for me because I work in the Bronx and have to plan to take the day off or else go in super late no matter what. But it made me realize how fortunate I am to have the option to take off time with such little notice in order to make sure this happens. As much as this baby-to-be is a priority and I barely blink at having to take off the day for its creation, I also know it's a privilege that I can do so relatively easily. If I was putting my job at risk by doing this every month, I'd have to think of it differently.

When I met with the PA this morning for cycle monitoring, she gently suggested that I consider Clomid if I don't get pregnant this cycle. She suggested I schedule an appointment with Dr. K for after the next pregnancy test (which I could cancel if pregnant) to sit down and talk about side effects, etc. I said, "Isn't that the higher case rate that's $2900? I get that we may need to try something different if it doesn't work this time, but we'd have to take some time off to save up for that." She said, "No, the case rate is the same. You're just buying the Clomid which is a hundred and something." WHAT?? This whole time I have thought that anything other than a "natural" cycle cost an extra thousand. If someone had been clear about that, maybe I would have resorted to Clomid by this third cycle, but now it's too late.

At the same time, though, I'm kind of conflicted. I feel like the obvious choice is Clomid because why wouldn't I want to double or triple my chances with each $3000 we're laying down? But some part of me is just so resistant to adding in drugs. I'm very aware of the irony of fixating on "natural" considering the procedures we have to undergo to conceive, but I felt so much more comfortable with the notion of a natural cycle. I feel so grateful for having a healthy reproductive system that ovulates regularly, and stubbornly I just want to be able to put sperm in there and make it happen because I feel like it's supposed to. It's sort of like circumcision; I'm resigned to what seems like the obvious choice and the right choice for me, but emotionally and psychologically I'm struggling with it.

Here's hoping I get pregnant this month and don't need to worry about it.

Negative #2

At least I took a home pregnancy test two days ago so that I had a couple days to adjust to the disappointment before getting the confirmation via blood test today. I cried my heart out in the shower Monday morning, just feeling empty and so disappointed. (It's important to note that I'm taking progesterone supplements, which keep you at a PMS level of progesterone for an extended period of time - probably not helpful to my emotional stability.) I carried that feeling throughout most of the day, then felt a little better Tuesday, so by today I felt relieved to have gotten it out of my system so that I could get through the day and not break down when I got the call.

Not so much.

The PA was the one to take my blood today, seemingly because they didn't have any sonogram patients but the phlebotomist was with another patient. (They know you have to go to work after these appointments.) She told me she was crossing her fingers and hoping for the best, and when I saw her sweet and excited smile, I started to tear up. I told her that I wasn't very optimistic because I'd taken a test that was negative. She said, "When did you take it?" and I said, "this morning," and she said, "...oh." Clearly she was not optimistic anymore either. So then I said I felt silly for having come in so confident that it wouldn't take me very long because they told me I seem healthy and fertile. She said, "I know it's hard to be patient," and I said, "and expensive, too." She said, "Yes, and expensive." Sometimes I feel the need to remind them that I'm paying out of pocket for this. My "healthy, fertile" state means I have no insurance coverage, and they're not used to that. Not for insemination, anyway. (IVF is a different story.) About 90% of me is disappointed about still not being pregnant when I'd become so convinced and felt sooooo excited and ready, and the other 10% of me feels the pressure of an additional $3000 for each attempt. It feels like $6000 has already been flushed down the toilet, since nothing came of those attempts.

I told the PA that the last two vials had only had 8 million motile sperm so now we have the additional stress of wondering whether we need to switch banks and donors. She said, "For you, 8 million is plenty. You're fine with that." What does she mean, "for me"? If I had different fertility struggles, would it be more important to have more? Is 8 million motile sperm a good amount for the average person? I don't know, but it was reassuring. She said to reach out to the bank to try to get some sort of compensation if it's less than their guarantee, but that she sees no issue with continuing with this donor.

All of a sudden I realized she was bandaging up my arm and I'd had no awareness of her taking blood. Having blood drawn is always a horrendous process for me. It hurts so much in a way that makes me squeamish, but I hadn't even noticed. Either she's just that good because she's a PA, or sobbing and having therapy during it kept me distracted!

I fought tears off and on all morning until I gave in around 10:30 and went to talk to a coworker who had revealed to me that she'd needed IUI to get pregnant. I felt comfortable bawling my eyes out to her because I knew she knew what it's like. She told me that it took her five cycles to get pregnant and not to get discouraged yet, though my emotions are completely normal. She said that she isn't sure whether this was too awkwardly spiritual for her to say, but that she tells herself her daughter wouldn't be her daughter if the pregnancy had taken at any previous cycle, and that she knows this child is who was meant to join her family. Our friends A&A said the same thing today when we sent a group text among the four of us. One of them got pregnant the first time, but it took the other five YEARS, and she said her son wouldn't be her son if it hadn't happened that way. It makes total sense, but without the kid here, it's difficult to find much comfort in that. But it IS a reminder that our baby will join our family when it's ready. And it's okay to cry here and there until that happens.

Meanwhile, as a general rule, if you see a fresh pedicure on my toes and a Frapuccino in my hands, you may want to tiptoe in the other direction.

A Different Direction

We chose our sperm donor based on many traits, both ones that were desirable to us (good health, smart, productive adult) as well ones that we wanted to match Nicole (ethnic background, hair color, eye color). When naming these ideals to our friends A&A one night, they told us that everything we were saying matched the donor they used for their second child, and they offered to give us the donor number so we could use him as well. We immediately agreed, knowing that our preferences and requirements would only bring up a few options. It's difficult just to find a Jewish donor who is Open ID (willing to be contacted by the child when they turn 18), let alone the other, smaller details. We all checked in about whether it felt weird to any of us, and the immediate and unanimous reaction was that we felt it was a beautiful way to build families and connection.

We looked up his profile, listened to his audio interview, and looked at his baby picture. Then Nicole did some sleuthing with her genius detective brain and found his current Facebook and Linked In profiles so that we could see that he is a normal, successful adult. (Don't judge - this is a HUGE decision to make, choosing someone to provide half our child's DNA, and we also know our kid can meet this person someday without us there to protect them. This was the first tough decision that wasn't entirely clear or comfortable that we had to make in our child's best interest.) He is 5'11", brown hair and brown eyes, Jewish (Reform), of Ukrainian descent on one side and a Western European mix on the other, speaks three languages, went to a prestigious engineering school on scholarship, is athletic, loves to travel, is family-oriented, is easygoing, and most importantly, is in good health. He is also CMV negative, which is important since I am as well (which is pretty uncommon, apparently) and being exposed to the virus while pregnant could harm the baby. It also doesn't hurt that he helped make a super cute toddler whom we adore!

Our vial in the warmer, waiting patiently to fulfill its destiny.

Suffice it to say, we are completely sold on our donor and didn't anticipate any issues since our friend had gotten pregnant the first time using his sperm. During our first cycle, we were told the second day that the vial had 7 million, "which is a good number." It sounded a little low to us and we remembered the sperm bank telling us they guarantee 10 million motile sperm per vial. So when we went in for my progesterone check the next week, I saw the PA and asked her to look up how many were in the first day's vial because we hadn't been told. She said the first day was 10 million at 54% motility and the second was 7 million at 52% motility. She said the motility was on the low end of normal, but that anything over 50% is normal and good. I said, "So if we don't achieve pregnancy on the vials we have, should we be looking at another donor?" She said, "No, I don't think so. Those are still decent numbers, and you never know what will be compromised in freezing. It's not the donor's fault and it could happen to any specimen. These numbers are okay, I wouldn't switch."

We took that as some comfort, until we reached out to our friend who said she'd had 12 million!! What the heck?? Then yesterday, after getting the great news that my follicle was at 22mm (it went from 18mm the day before to 22mm the day of IUI, whereas last time it only went from 18mm to 19.5mm - optimal size at ovulation is 20-22) we were told there were only 8 million at 49% motility. Then today's vial had 8.3 million at 46% motility. What is going on here?? Why were three of our four vials below the guarantee of 10 million, and why did the last two have motility below 50%, putting them in the below normal range? The nurse practitioner doing my IUI today said that, while they like numbers to be a bit higher, these numbers are pretty typical for what they see with frozen specimens. I'm not sure if that's a comfort or not.

We're trying not to get too distressed, because if I'm pregnant it won't really matter. But if I'm not... I guess we'll cross that bridge if we come to it. We already knew we'd have to take a month off after two cycles to save up money for another two (we refuse to go into debt over this), so we could use that month to start over with a new donor and a new bank if we decide that's what's best. But before I jump that far, we're first sending in the specimen analyses to the bank we used so that they can look at it (they wouldn't tell me what they do if the specimen doesn't meet the guarantee, they just said to let them review it first) and we'll see what they offer. If they offered two vials for the price of one so that we can ensure we have enough sperm, then we'd keep using them. If they just refund us some of this, well that's nice, but we are also spending $2000 on each IUI itself, so we still wouldn't be using them again. I also want to talk to the PA and get her thoughts again now that she can see what's in the last two vials; maybe she won't be concerned. I'll wait til I hear back from the bank before I reach out to her so I'm armed with as much information as possible.

Here's hoping that I'm knocked up and won't have to worry about all this!

Update: Apparently the motility percentage is how much of the unwashed specimen is motile. So if the percentage was higher, then the number of sperm in the vial after washing would be higher since the washing separates out the motile sperm. Someone from the clinic told me that the bank might say they guarantee 10 million before washing. But I had specifically asked them what their guarantee was back when I first ordered, and I thought that was clear. Maybe I'm misremembering. But one vial had 29 million before washing, and another had 10.1 million. That's still a very alarming difference. And one vial only had .9mL when they're supposed to be 1.0mL, and the other three had 1.0mL. All questions for me to ask them...but it may not lead to us switching banks and donors if we can't guarantee getting anything better at another bank.

Thawing Out

I've been oddly numb to the idea of starting this process again. I haven't felt the crazy excitement nor the nervous anxiety that I felt the first time around. I was able to go on about my life and wait pretty patiently from the first day of my cycle to Day 11 when I was told to come back in for monitoring. It has felt more routine and less surreal. I figured this was normal, and it certainly felt self-protective and probably more realistic than my previous emotional approach, so I've let it rock. Though I missed the excitement I felt the first time around, I carefully let this be the way it was, figuring my mind knows what to do to keep me safe and not wanting to ruffle any psychological feathers.

Then today I went in for my first day of monitoring and learned it's already time to go! We were expecting to go Friday and Saturday based on my last cycle, but we're going in Wednesday and Thursday. My excitement is slowly starting to climb again, but in a containable way. I think it helps to know what to expect and to be better prepared for the real possibility of disappointment. But I'm still starting to get pretty excited.

But let me back up a minute.

I got into my old familiar position in the stirrups and was grateful to see that it was the physician's assistant who would be doing the sonogram. I've gotten very comfortable with her since she has done all but the first sonogram of the first cycle (which was done by Dr. K). It's nice to feel like people have an investment in you, that they are getting to know you and are excited for you and rooting for you.

So the PA did the sonogram and, after raving about how wonderful my lining looks, said, "It looks like you have a small cyst on your right ovary. It's small and shouldn't be a problem...unless it affects your hormone levels, in which case you wouldn't be able to start this cycle. Wait, what cycle day is this?" I tried to speak over my heart that was in my throat and said, "Day 11." She said, "Ohhhh, okay, I don't know why I was thinking it was only Day 6. That's not a cyst, it's a mature follicle. It's already 18mm." GEEZ, woman, can you think a little longer before you speak?? This happened the time she thought the follicle had shrunk a millimeter last cycle, and I had the same momentary freak-out where in ten seconds my mind went through a hundred questions and possible scenarios and implications. Why would I even be in there for a sonogram if it was only Day 6? And she had confirmed what day I was on when I first came in. But no harm done, and the surprising news was that I was already at 18mm on Day 11. Last time I was at 17mm on Day 12. So for some reason my body was moving much more quickly this time! She gave me a prescription for Ovidrel (the ovulation trigger injection) which I dropped off at a Bronx pharmacy so I could pick it up from work the next day and have it on me for whenever I received the call.

When I hadn't gotten a call by 2:10, knowing the office closes around 2:30, I gave them a call. The receptionist had to pull the PA out of a meeting about me. The PA got on the phone and said, "We are consulting with Dr. B about your case right now. You may need to come in tomorrow. I'll call you back in two minutes." As a clinical social worker, it was a really strange feeling to know I was the subject of someone else's case conference! The PA called back in less than a minute and said I was surging and needed to come in at 9:30 the next day for insemination. In an excited panic, I said, "But the injection won't arrive until tomorrow!" She said she had a connection somewhere that keeps it on hand, could deliver it today, and would only cost $60 instead of the $80 I paid last time. I assume there is a good reason that they didn't use this place last time??

I rushed in a vacation slip to my supervisor (who I've kept in the loop so she has been very supportive and flexible about all my appointments) and then left work so I could get home and take the injection as soon as possible. I was home by 4:30 but the pharmacist called and said there was traffic and she couldn't get it to me before 6:30. She asked when I needed to take it, and I said, "several hours ago!" so she said she would deliver it herself on the way home from work to get it to me more quickly than it would with the courier who had a list of deliveries to make. She pulled up outside my house and sent her pre-teen son up to the door to give it to me. Now THAT'S service!

And for $20 cheaper than the last prescription, it came with much more than just an injection in a cold package. This is what I got:

That is a tote bag which had in it the freezy envelope with the syringe on the left, a sharps container for the used needle, alcohol swabs, gauze, bandages, and Yogi tangerine tea for relaxation and mood. A BOX OF TEA. I didn't even get alcohol swabs last time and had to ask for some at the clinic! This setup made the money feel worth it.

So I'm all injected and ready to go. Excited but not out-of-my-mind Christmas-Eve-as-a-kid excited. I'm taking the day off, but Nicole is going to work afterward. I may go to a movie to relax, since that's something I love that Nicole doesn't enjoy doing. And it will be what it will be.

Here we go!

Spoiler Alert: Negative

Receiving the call was not a total surprise, but was still disappointing. How can you miss something that was never there? Nicole and I sulked a little but then were just eager for me to get my period so we can start again. We went out to dinner as planned, and it was really nice. Nicole’s sister had given her a gift certificate for her birthday last month for the local Italian restaurant that we LOVE right across the street from us. I suggested using it to go out and celebrate if we learned we were pregnant, and Nicole said she thought we should go no matter what. That way we wouldn’t feel extra punished after already receiving difficult news, and it would be something we could look forward to no matter what. I’m so glad she said that, and it actually ended up feeling like the start of a new beginning, looking forward to the next cycle and the next attempt.

And in the meantime, I’m going to enjoy a few things that I couldn’t while possibly being pregnant:

--a frozen Coke (check! Nicole brought me one when she picked me up from the train yesterday)

--a Frappucino on Friday morning

--a pedicure (Nicole didn’t want me going into a nail salon where there are strong vapors)

Those will be my three indulgences, and then we will get back on the horse.

Emotional Roller Coaster

Oh what a ride it has been...and I'm acutely aware that we're just at the beginning, and that couples can spend years trying to conceive. It's only been one cycle and we feel like we're going out of our minds!

A coworker I'm close with is also going through IUI (but with Clomid) because a recent accident left her husband with a low sperm count so they're having difficulty conceiving their third. We both started the same month, with her having experienced her first negative test result within days of when I was getting inseminated. I was telling her about the agonizing two-week wait because I knew she'd understand, and she said, "You know you can take a home pregnancy test days before that, though, right?" Ummm no, no I didn't!

Cue the crazy. (And yes, she said today she regrets having told me that.) I calculated within two days when I would likely be due for my period, which would be this Tuesday or Wednesday. I bought a Clear Blue Easy digital pregnancy test that is extra sensitive to hcg so it can detect pregnancy up to four days before your missed period. Saturday was four days before (if I was due Tuesday) and I couldn't wait any longer than that to take it. Nicole and I were huddled in the bathroom waiting so patiently for the little hourglass to stop flashing and to show a result. And it was negative. We were disappointed but then tried to remind each other that only 65% of positive pregnancies show four days prior (it goes up to 90% three days prior, I think) so it could be a false negative, and also what if my period was due Wednesday? But my mood was muted and Nicole was cranky the rest of the day.

That evening we started trying to find silver linings because we couldn't stand staying in that space. These included: avoiding a Thanksgiving/Hanukkah birthday; pushing my five months maternity leave closer to my mother-in-law's summer break when she could watch the baby for another few months; not being quite so uncomfortable at my brother-in-law's much-anticipated wedding way out on the tip of the island September 27; not putting my mother-in-law in the position of having to help plan a baby shower immediately after her son's massive wedding that is already stressing her out.

The silly thing is that none of that would actually bother us if we learned I was pregnant, but we did a good job in the moment of telling ourselves that we'd be better off with a January 2015 baby. Willing suspension of disbelief, as they say.

Then Sunday morning I felt a horrid compulsion to take the second test in the box. I knew Nicole regretted having taken the first one, but I had to know. And maybe today, farther in, there would be a more accurate result. And maybe even a positive to ease our minds! I figured if it was negative, I wouldn't tell her I'd taken it because I knew it would increase her anxiety and distress (and probably mine too, but I couldn't stop myself). If it was positive, I could jump into bed next to her with it and squeal excitedly, and what a nice surprise that would be for her.

I was so careful to be quiet. I got a new disposable cup from downstairs instead of using the one in our bedroom so I wouldn't alert her. Then I turned the shower on first to drown out the noise, and peed and tested while it was on. Then I suffered the disappointment, showered, and went back to the bedroom where Nicole immediately said, "Were you taking a pregnancy test in there?"

Then I asked her if I could drive myself to Hebrew class because it was silly for her to waste gas going back and forth both times, plus it was early and she shouldn't have to get up yet. She insisted on taking me but I pushed the issue. All so I could sneak by Rite Aid and buy another pregnancy test. I swear, I felt like an addict. I'm never deceitful with my wife, but I HAD TO KNOW. And if it was positive, she'd be happy, and if it was negative, I wouldn't tell her until after it was confirmed by a blood test, at which point I'd be able to admit to my crazy.

This time I bought First Response, which can detect hcg as early as six days before your missed period. I was only at two or three days before, so this would REALLY be accurate! I came home and Nicole was talking to one of our international students, so I slipped upstairs and took the test. Another negative.

Again Nicole said, "What were you doing up there? You didn't even say hello." And I had to admit that I'd bought another test. There is one left in the box and I agreed to wait until Wednesday morning to take it so that I don't keep going crazy and I can just know for sure before getting the call at work with the results of my bloodwork. But it is NOT easy. I'm thinking about it constantly, up there under my bathroom sink. What's the harm in taking it and then just buying another box, which I could then use for Tuesday AND Wednesday? But I promised. I'm taking the advice of not giving in to my anxiety and making it worse. And it is so, so hard. It's like I just want to keep peeing on sticks until one shows up positive - the very definition of insanity, no?

I keep thinking I feel something and wondering if it's my period coming or implantation. Then I remember that since I'm taking vaginal suppositories of progesterone three times a day (oh I didn't mention that my levels were a little low so I got to add in this messy, chalky game?), my period will probably be delayed AND its common side effects are the same as symptoms of pregnancy and menstruation (mood changes, tender breasts, etc.). So I can't even trust the signs my body is giving me. I feel so out of sorts. Emotional and disconnected from my own processes.

And stupidly, some part of me is still holding out hope that all these negatives are false and I'll be blown away by happiness Wednesday. Even as I cry and stress about why our vial only had 7 million when our friend who used the same donor had 12 million and what if we had done this or that differently, I cannot change that my personality and my soul, to its very core, is hopeful and optimistic.

The Waiting Game

We are soooo impatient!!!

The first couple of days after IUI, I was flipping-out excited pretty much nonstop, thinking of what was potentially happening in my body. I was so in awe of even the possibility of it. Then for a good portion of one day, I wasn't even thinking about it, and when I did, I flipped out even more at the idea that I had been just going about my daily life as if everything was normal when in reality EVERYTHING MIGHT BE DIFFERENT.

We research incessantly for any possible indicators. I push on my breasts several times a day to see if they're sore, but they're only sore because I keep pushing on them. I want to notice something, anything, to give me hope, even though I know realistically that it's way too early for any symptoms.

It's all we can talk about. We have other conversation for a bit, but it inevitably ends or is interrupted by "what ifs" and hopes and doubts.

Eight more days til my blood pregnancy test. Six more days until we can take an early-indicator home pregnancy test with any accuracy. I'm trying to make myself enjoy the process, even the antsy-ness, because if it takes us months to conceive, the excited nerves could turn to anxious, frustrated, fearful nerves after a couple of failed cycles. I'm trying to appreciate the anticipation and the closeness it has brought us as we dream together. But, please, please, please, can it be next Wednesday already???

Conceiving Our Baby (hopefully)

We left the house at 6:45 yesterday morning to go out east to the clinic's site for reproductive procedures. It was strange going to a new location when I'm so familiar with our little branch. The place was in a very stark area, with nothing but corporate buildings for companies like Estee Lauder. The waiting room was modern and comfortable, and much larger than our local site. We had been told to arrive at 7:30 and that the "specimen" wouldn't be thawed, washed, and prepared until we had gotten there so that none of its shelf life would be wasted. So we patiently and nervously watched "The Today Show" after checking in. I got called back once by accident, because they assumed out of the four people in the waiting room, there was only one Rachel, and they didn't call out a last initial (and the correct Rachel must have been in the bathroom or something). They had me all set up to take blood when the woman said she wanted to verify everything. She said the doctor's name (wrong) and then asked what I was there for before double checking my last name and realizing her error. She was mortified, so I probably shouldn't have joked, "No one else's embryo is in me, though, right?" Back out to the waiting room I went, and she came back out a few minutes later to apologize yet again and to say they almost ALWAYS call the last initial and ohmigosh I'm so sorry.

Eventually we were called back to verify the vial of sperm. The guy that took us back was in a white lab coat, and he took the vial out of the little tank, with the dry ice visible in the air. It was so labby and scientific that my inner nerd got really excited. It was just cool to me. He had me verify the donor number and bank name on the vial, verify that it matched my form, and then sign to it. Then we sat in the waiting room again while they washed it and separated out the super motile sperm. (I felt giggly at the idea of the sperm getting a "bath" and preparing for their job!) We got called back to the same area a second time to verify again that it was our vial, and then it was handed over to me to carry across the building to the insemination rooms. It felt a little odd to be carrying this tiny, warm vial of sperm that was about to go in me! I guess they want to make sure there is absolutely no opportunity for it to be out of your sight and for you to later accuse them of malpractice. I was even instructed to put it myself into the "warmer" - a little box of about twenty little holes that the vial fits right into.

The nurse practitioner was very kind, but I did wish it was someone I knew already doing the procedure. I got into the stirrups just like I have every morning for the past few days, and quite a bit in the months before, and whispered a "Shehecheyanu" before the nurse came back in. She did a transvaginal sonogram first and said that the follicle had not yet collapsed and was at 19.5mm. (So I went from 17 on Monday to 18 on Tuesday to 19.5 on Wednesday - not bad progression, considering most people's follicles are at 20-22 when they ovulate.) Apparently after the egg is released, the follicle collapses and is no longer visible. The Ovidrel (hcg trigger injection) had only been in my system 12 hours, not the recommended 24-36, because I had surged a little earlier than they expected and was informed less than 24 hours prior to undergoing IUI. Having just taken the Ovidrel the night before and having a follicle at 19.5mm meant that I had not yet ovulated but that it was very imminent. So they recommended a second IUI the next morning so that there would be living sperm in me long enough to catch the full lifespan of the egg at whatever point it released - "if you have another vial and if you can take the time to come in again." I can't imagine saying, "No, I don't want to be late to work so I'll just do it today." Once over $3000 is sunk into a procedure, I'm in it all the way! Let's get this done!

After the sonogram, she put in the speculum (ugh) and swabbed my cervix to make sure it was clean and clear (ugh) before inserting a long, skinny catheter through my cervix and into my uterus (ughhh!). None of this was comfortable, but only the poking through my cervix was actually painful, and that was very minor, like a pinch. (I learned that your cervix is soft and open when you're ovulating, so if it hurts a lot and bleeds, you're probably being inseminated at the wrong time.) From there it took about ten seconds to inject the sperm and then pull the catheter and speculum out, and holy cow it was over already. She told me to lay there for a few minutes and she'd come back. Then she came back with post-IUI instructions which the PA had faxed over. She had written on it the date of the first IUI, and then under "second" she wrote, "if follicle not collapsed, 3/13/14". I guess if someone is willing to do a second no matter what, just a date would be there, but she made it clear that I only wanted a second if it was actually recommended and would be useful. (No need to throw away a $500 vial of sperm.) Then under that were my two follow-up dates: seven days later for a progesterone check, and fourteen days later for a blood pregnancy test. At the bottom she had written, "Good luck, Rachel!" with a smiley face.

We left and got breakfast to take home. We were home by 9:30, and I realized I could easily have gone into work late if needed, but was so happy we took the day off to spend together. Even though we knew it was silly because the sperm was already directly in my uterus and didn't need the help of gravity to make its way there, we still both felt the urge to have me laying down for a while and taking it easy. I put a pillow under me and lay on the couch, thoroughly enjoying my four-cheese souffle. Nicole and I were giddy all morning, talking and dreaming about our baby, the idea of which we shouldn't be attaching to already but we did. We are.

Then Nicole started getting irritable because one of our students (the ones we have had since September to help bring in extra income for babymaking expenses, which I wrote about in Opening Our Home) had stayed home from school and was just bustling around upstairs. She wanted us to have "just us" time, which we had expected to have in the middle of the day. So she spontaneously suggested getting a hotel out east near the clinic so that we could just be together and also be close the next morning. I eagerly agreed, and we packed a bag, left dinner for the boys, and headed out in the early afternoon. We had dinner out and then just spent hours together before going to sleep early. It was a lovely, beautiful, romantic, and relaxed day, and I love that if this cycle works, we will have spent our conception day like this.

Oh, one other detail I neglected to mention: I felt ovulation twinges about five times that day, starting mid-morning and going until late afternoon. I've felt ovulation twinges before, it's something I experience in general, or else I might have thought they were imagined. They were also stronger than usual, and most definitely on the right side. I got excited thinking the Ovidrel had finally kicked in and my egg must be on its way. Nicole and I kept trying to get reassurance from each other: "It has to work. It's working, right? I know sometimes it doesn't...but it has to be, why wouldn't it be!"

This morning we went through the same routine, but we were seen more quickly this time - and were much less nervous! This time I treasured carrying the little vial back with me, cupping it in my hands to make sure it stayed warm on the journey. This nurse practitioner was even friendlier than the first. She was so, so warm and sweet and I immediately felt comfortable. And boy was she quick! I practically blinked and it was over. Again Nicole and I went home and enjoyed the day together.

In my post from two years ago entitled Medical Romance, I spoke about how the idea of conception had become more about a medical process and I'd let go of the need to make it romantic or sexual. I have to say that the reality of it was very different than how I'd envisioned - we had two full days of romantic and sexual around the (fingers crossed) conception of our baby, even if that's not what led to biological conception. And it all felt so connected because all we could think about was how much we love each other and how much we hoped for a baby to grow our family.

I'm not even trying to protect myself from disappointment anymore. Honestly, I don't think there's anything I could do or any way of forcing myself to think that could keep me from being disappointed if the pregnancy test is negative. So I'm going to let myself enjoy the excitement and the scary attachment we are already feeling. Nicole started out more cautious, but by today was leaning over to kiss my abdomen as I passed by her on the couch. Oh we are in deep.