Friday, July 24, 2009

I am Here.

Hello.

This is a post to say that I am still here...



So much has happened in our lives over the last few months and none of it has involved my reproductive system or anyone else's which has been a huge relief in many ways...but not in all.



When I started this blog it was meant to be a safe place to vent, inspire, draw strength and connect with those who were travelling on the same road. But what has happened is that it has morfed into being a miny version of my real life ,where I have watched others 'achieve' what still eludes us. Of the blogs/connections I made here nearly all are in various stages of pregnancy, and while I am so thrilled & inspired by the 'happy endings' I am yet again outside. Left behind. Waiting.



Of the few of us who are still hoping, longing, aching, most of your blogs have gone private and I wonder weather it is for self preservation...I understand that completely.



By posting today, I am hoping to tap into the strength that is still out there- those in the next chapter; those who are with me here and those new gals who may stumble across this today and need to know they are not alone.



G & I have continued with Operation Happiness. It has manifested wonderful things in our lives. We have moved to a part of the city which was a dream for us just a few months ago. It is truly amazing what can happen with vision, hard work and taking risks!!! We finished renovating our bungalow, I completely staged it (including painting the whole thing, inside & out, ourselves) sold it in less than one week, found a duplex in our 'dream neighbourhood', closed on both deals and moved in less than a month??!!!!



Why can't all things be that way?

Why can't vision, hard work and taking risks be enough when it comes to having the family that we both believe is meant to be ours??



On that front, a little bit of what followed Team Babies negative beta.



This is the first time I have addressed this thoroughly with anyone, including G.

I told him briefly what happened when I went to the follow up apt., but it was imperative for us to put all of this on a shelf. I knew we, HE, was at breaking point.



So, the follow up appointment was, well, dumbfounding.



I asked God (as I always do) to shed a little much needed light on the situation and when I arrived at the Clinic I was clearly the last apt. of the day for Dr. L. I waited and waited and finally he yelled for me and as we walked back to his office he said that they didn't have me on the schedule. Odd, our first apt. with him was the same.



We proceeded to sit across from one another and he said, glancing every now and then at the clock behind me, 'So, how can I help you today?'



It was clear to me, he had absolutely no clue who I was, or why I was there. It was as if I were a stranger to him.



I explained that this was the follow up to a negative beta for G& I and our surrogate R.-hoping to jog his memory.

Nada.

Blank.

Zilch.

*insert him madly flipping pages on our 'epic-novel-sized chart' and me, chin shaking, omg, don't start bawling you idiot, give him a chance...*



He then proceeds to counter act everything he told G & I at our first meeting only a couple of months earlier.



In stark contrast to our first apt., when he stated that 'he wasn't sure why we were using a surrogate with our amazing production of embryos, good blood work etc.', he proceeds to say with 'our long track record, age and high (not fsh, the other dohicky that tells you about the number of eggs you are producing)' he felt our chances of conceiving if we continued were slim .



If I were standing, I think my legs would have given out. I had never, in the three doctors who had been working with me, heard that there was any concern about egg production. He then proceeded to say that in his opinion, our only option was egg donor.



I sat across from him, and as the flood gates opened, made some lame joke about him finding a 6 foot model-turned astronaut, as he answered his cell phone and had a conversation with the person on the other end who was clearly his wife, wondering why he was so late.



After that there was pretty much nothing left to say but. Ok, thanks??!! and goodbye.



He walked me to reception and I was still crying. He said an awkward "You are special" and I have yet to know what he meant.



So, after conceiving naturally and 32, going through 3 clinics, 3 doctors, 3 operations, 2 more pregnancies, countless times I begged for what turned out to be hydros removed, countless months and dollars later- I am now almost 39 and my chances to have a genetic child are done. Just like that.



He did tell me that we had had terrible direction and medical care, and that he would have done things much differently.



We are sort of at a loss. We don't know where to go and so we are going nowhere.

We are not opposed to egg donor, but why and how do we trust this advice, given to us to a doctor who said the complete opposite thing to us and who has no clue who we are after telling us he would 'pray for us' and would make us parents????



So, there it is and here I am.



One bright note in all of this is there is no clock ticking any more. Time doesn't really matter, because one thing is abundantly clear- I will not endure another round in the ring with my eggs. That is over.



Not a cheery post, I know, but here I am.

If you are new here, and I could give you one lick of 'advice' : be your own advocate, and move to Colorado...














Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Now

What a difference a day can make.

Thanks to all of you amazing women whose words of identification and HOPE cleared away so much of the darkness I felt yesterday. I have read those words over and over and attribute much of my change in perspective to the power of a community bonded by the cement of understanding, compassion and love. You all rock.

I also believe that every time we go through the roller coaster of hope/waiting/disappointment we go through a cycle of the grieving process that that what's-his-face guy coined, Ed somethin'? (what a dumby) and I am amazed, yet again at how quickly I go from the numbness of denial, to the fierce anger to the intense sadness and the land, somehow, on the feet of acceptance.
This happened all in a 24hour span??

Don't hear me say that I didn't have the shooting pain of sadness course my veins momentarily as I sat with a pg. friend last night at a birthday dinner...but, it surprisingly did not last. I didn't plaster the usual forced smile, you know the one- where you consciously tell the muscles on either corner to ignore the downward pull??!!! I actually spoke to her about her upcoming move to a family neighbourhood and was, um, strangely happy for her????? Huh?

Somehow after my 'release' to you guys, my women's group that I go to on living a spiritual life (where we are studying Tolle's The Power of Now) I actually got in my car, cranked the tunes and was peaceful, happy, and hopeful.

Not gonna analyze it, just going to take it and runnnnnnnn.

Thanks, yet again.






Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Tidal Wave

I have been pulled under by the tide of a giant tidal wave.
I am slammed against the bottom of the ocean floor, and the wind is knocked out of me.
I do not know which way is up.
I am tired and start to panic.
The terrorizing thought that this may be it fills my body with pain.
It is a nightmare.
I want to wake up, because, right now, I don't have the strength to swim.

To others, this may sound dramatic or self-piteous.
I assure you, it is.
You see, just for today, the optimism 'pot' runneth dry.
I guess it has runneth over for some time now...or maybe that was the wishful thinking pot???

But for me, a person who spends most of her time telling others that life is beautiful and worth living, I, today, am needing to release these feelings somewhere. Anywhere. Here.

I have not left my kitchen all morning. Reading about others who know how I feel, and those who have moved on, allows me to feel what is really going on inside. You guys (even dear R. who has just bought a front row seat to our show, and has had her own hardship in her own life) understand how truly daunting the idea that the most primal instinct to procreate may be being denied is.

Yesterday, when I heard the news, I had a moment where I doubted Gods existed. Where I shouted out that familiar old idea, that there couldn't possibly be a God who is this cruel. I swore that this would be the end of my believing, praying, hoping, dreaming, optimism...

What I was really saying was that I want the pain to end. I want a break from the heartache and disappointment. I want to hear a yes, instead of always hearing a no.

The swearing doesn't last long. I know those old ideas are not reality for I was given that Knowledge, many years ago as I lay on the maternity ward for two weeks following our first ectopic pregnancy that almost killed me, that this was not God punishing me. That this problem was scientific. His Grace carried me through that time, as I heard the calls, over the intercom, for the new mothers to come for the breastfeeding classes, while I lay, empty-wombed...I would never have survived that time if I believed that somehow they were 'blessed' and I was being punished.
I was given that same reassurance as I lost my best friend (age 24), father (at age 53) and stepmother (age 52) of cancer. It was not that God had "thought it was their time to leave the planet"- that is an old idea. It was scientific. A problem in the human realm, not the spiritual.

All of that said, G & I are so grateful to have met someone so moved by our plight that they would actually jump in with us to try and help. We will always be grateful for R and want her to know that.

The pain I feel is just the time ticking, the life altering pain that we, as a couple, are experiencing and the utter disbelief that we are still here. We both feel like fish out of water. That something drastic needs to change, and that this sadness must give way soon or it will kill us.

We have aged. G looks different now, so do I. This has stolen something from us. We have been overwhelmed and are 'hitting the mat' and both shouting "I Give"!!!!!!

The lesson cannot be that Life is Unfair. I got that one long ago (like many of you). The lesson cannot be patience, I think we have proven that we have that. The lesson can't be perseverance, humility or keeping faith. You can't move onto surrogacy without possessing those three attributes to some degree.

Is the lesson that we are not meant to be parents?
I don't know if that is a lesson I am prepared to learn, thanks...

Help.

Monday, April 13, 2009

cOuch

Sneaking an update, mainly for R.

Today we got the call while we stopped into the Brick to look for cheap appliances, to help in the sale of our house. While there, I was also looking at the couches that were on sale for R. She is looking for one, and I was secretly sure that she would need it for the bedrest she would be on from the twins...

Sitting on a couch in the Brick (of all places), G & I held hands as we picked up the message.

I could tell from the way the nurse said 'Hello" what the outcome was.

But this is R's first experience of the pain and sadness associated with a phone call telling you that the beta is negative, to stop all medication and...and what exactly???

We, sadly, know this all too well. Too many times to count or fathom.

When will I learn. Obviously there is some lesson I am to learn.

For now, all I can say, on behalf of a Team Baby who gave it their all is:

a punching-fist-through-wall angry & extremely broken-hearted: Ouch.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Team Baby 10dp3dt

Just a few words, a little update with the sole purpose of getting support...

R is doing great-full of hormones and hit-by-a-train tired...I pray that the little ones are the cause of her havoc!

G & I have, for the most part, had a real peace & hopefulness (although the nerves kicked in for both of us yesterday) and because R is doing all the hard work at this point, I am able to jump into the renos around here sans fear which has really averted my mind from the usual 2ww obsessing.

On the great PAOS debate: jury is still out deliberating. R is starting to get why waiting makes sense, she sees the roller coaster that testing too early could bring...At this point, she has our support (and the stockpile o' sticks) to pee at will...Yeaowwww-gulp.

This weekend is Easter. The Miracle of all Miracles (capitol 'M' miracle!!!) and Team Baby is hoping for a little one (s) ourselves.

Thank you guys, thank you R...

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

We Held Hopeful Hands



Monday March 30th, 2009













Hi guys!!! Thanks for all your kind words of encouragement for Team Baby! You are all official members of the team and were with us yesterday...

There seems to be a whole lot of people hoping & helping our dreams come true.

There is of course the awesomely courageous R (applause), Dr. Garfield (I mean Dr. L), the favourite technician who made sure she came in to help with the transfer, my mom & SIL who went into her church to beg, plead & light candles, the lawyers who worked their butts off to get everything done, Duck who has helped me personally with my new role of IM, all of the people on R's side of the team who are helping her be on bedrest (cleaning, cooking, taking care of her cats, you name it!) and you & all the other people who tell me that we are in their thoughts & prayers...

I have a sense that we are a village, and boy, it seems to take a village for us...

Yesterday, after an excruciating wait (kayjay, Dr. L was about an hour late!!) for R's very full blatter (she had to do the tough task of a half-cup-pee 3 times!!!!!!) we ushered ourselves into the transfer room. It was a packed room indeed! We (G&R&I) held hopeful hands as we saw the picture of our three (they all woke up!!) gorgeous embryos. For some reason, they all looked stunning to us, if we do say so ourselves! We all welled up as we saw them go into R's safe and cozy womb. Cheers and tears all around.

After a 'pit stop' for R's first, hopefully of many, cravings- a charcoal pit burger at the, ummm, well 'Charcoal Pit Burger', we dropped her off to put her feet up and enjoy being PUPO.


It took all of about 5 mins for G & me to pass out when we got home. He, yet again, showed his quiet strength today- all the emotions that go along with what we have gone through and he is still 'in it to win it', and by my (now, with R, OUR) side. I want to see his faith lead him to a
big ol smile one day soon.

We are hopeful, overwhelmed, realistic (that has come unfortunately over the years), grateful, excited and exhausted.

Nestle in little ones. You are safe, longed for and loved- by a whole village.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Wow.

Ok, because my life has been crazy and there is no time to really post...

We will be transferring to our surrogate R, Monday morning.

It all seems quite surreal.

I will post after the transfer with all the details...

We need your prayers: R, G&me and our three embryos...

Yeowww!!

Go Team Baby...