Mixed Bag Of Rant

Before I begin this post, I want to explain why I am sharing this extremely personal experience with the entire universe. I feel like infertility is a taboo subject. Most women find it too personal and too painful to talk about. I feel that way too in many ways, but I also want other women who may be going through the same thing to know: YOU ARE NOT ALONE. We don’t have to suffer in silence. We have each other.

I went in for my annual appointment with my OB. For most women this is a routine annoyance in their day. The appointment that every woman hates. Go ahead, ladies. Tell me you actually ENJOY this appointment!

This appointment was far from routine for me. I knew I was going to ask her about having another baby. I knew the answer may not be what I want to hear. I was on edge. My blood pressure was through the roof. I was nervous.

So I got around to telling my doc that we really want to have a second baby and I literally LOL’d when she said, “So what do you want to do, wing it?” Ummmm… Let’s see. It took 2.5 years to conceive Jackson. We have been trying on and off for FOUR YEARS for this one. I think I’ve been winging it long enough. Not to mention, this woman did surgery on me. Took my tube. Took my ovary. I’m thirty freaking six years old. There will be no winging it for me. She kind of apologized and said she in no way sees me as 36 with limited years of fertility left (if any). Which I guess is a compliment? Thanks for not calling me an old hag? I’ll take it.

I will spare you the details of the exam, but I will tell you, the results were not entirely good. My remaining ovary is swollen. I have tenderness. What does that mean? It means the endo is winning. So what happens next? My OB will do the baseline studies to check and see if I have a viable ovary. I have an ultrasound scheduled for next week to make sure that my remaining ovary does not have a growing endometrioma (ovarian cyst). If I do? It’s game over. My ovary will likely need to be removed and I will need to proceed with a full hysterectomy.

If everything looks okay, then we will move to the next phase which consists of a follicle study which is basically a series of ultrasounds to see if my ovary is functioning correctly leading up to ovulation. If all looks good, we will schedule a lap surgery to remove any endo and I will then be referred to a fertility specialist to proceed with IVF.

If it seems like a lot to go through, you’re right. It is. Then why? In a promise to myself, I want to live my life without regret. I know if I don’t take the steps to try and complete our family, I will always wonder, what if?  I have to try.

Even if I end up without a baby, I will know in my heart I did everything I could. Plus, I will feel good about taking control of my own health. Pushing my doctors to use their knowledge to find a solution. Not settling for the answer “You’ll just have to live with it.” That isn’t good enough for me.

So until I get a more definitive answer, I will continue to stay positive and keep the faith.

I think Jackson would prefer a playmate that actually interacts with him.

I have been compiling in my head all of the many reasons why I want Jackson to have a sibling. Compiling the reasons why I would be crazy enough to want another baby. In my head, the pros outweigh the cons. Most women are able to say, “I want another baby!” and WHAM they are pregnant. It doesn’t work that way for me. I am missing half the plumbing not to mention, I suffer from a debilitating disease that has caused years of pain and infertility. My only hope to complete my family and fulfill my dreams is to go through IVF for baby #2.

There are however a lot of reasons not to do it and these are my rebuttals.

Let’s start with the whole health thing. In my head, the pros outweigh the cons by a mile. You know… no biggie. If I try to have another baby I’ll either miscarry or destroy my womanhood forever (which was bound to happen whether I tried to have another baby or not). So from a health perspective alone (let’s not discuss the mental anguish that goes with having a miscarriage), I may as well give this another go, yes? One of the biggest factors I didn’t attempt IVF for baby #1 is because of my weight. BMI supposedly plays a big factor in the IVF process. I believe it is recommended to have a BMI under 30 to increase success. Regardless of that BMI number (which I think is kind of a load of crap anyway), I am 1,000 times healthier than I was when I was TTC the first time around and now have a healthy BMI of 25 to boot. I have to believe that will make a difference.

Finances. IVF is fucking expensive yo. I sat down and thought about my next new car which I am due for in a couple years. Now, if I can afford a Lexus, I can afford to make a baby. Period. No doubt, it is painful to think about the expense of getting pregnant when others are so easily able to get knocked up at no cost at all. The truth is, the cost is an excuse. I do have some funds available through insurance. The majority of IVF is not covered, but I may be able to use it for some tests and drugs. Beyond that, there is always financing available. I simply cannot use money as an excuse not to try this.

Sibling rivalry. What if Jack and his new brother/sister end up hating each other? I hope that is not the case, but I am willing to take the chance that it will work out for the best. Jack has expressed his interest more than once about his desire for a brother or sister and his apparent confusion as to why his friends have one and he doesn’t. It breaks my heart. I honestly believe that he will be a great big brother and great helper for his mom and dad. I have gotten “the grass isn’t always greener on the other side” argument about keeping Jack an only child; however, despite the years of aggression my sister and I had for each other growing up, I wouldn’t have traded it for anything as we are close now as adults. I don’t want the fear of rivalry to dictate this choice.

Fertility Drugs. IVF requires a number of drugs to be taken, injected or whatever other means they intend to make eggs and babies. My history with fertility drugs is not a positive one. As is the case with most prescription medication, I am highly sensitive to them. If they list a side effect, I will likely experience it. There is also the weight gain that comes with the drugs. If it doesn’t work out, I’m left with an extra very unwanted 10-20 pounds and no baby. After my ridiculous amount of hard work over the last 2 years to lose weight, this does not excite me. If it DOES work out… I’ll be having a BABY and that will include some extra pounds anyway (although… this time around, I will hopefully have the willpower to pass up on my cravings for Burger King burgers). It’s worth a little bit of weight gain and a little bit of crazy to get my 2nd baby in my arms.

I recently got the chance to chat with an adult who was born from IVF back in the 80’s. He discovered me and my blog via Twitter and wanted to share his story with me. He provided me with a great deal of inspiration to add to my many reasons not to give up. He said, knowing what his mom had to go through to bring him into the world gives him purpose. I love that and heck if I don’t want to meet this guy’s mama- she sounds awesome. But it is so true- women who go through treatment or adoption to have a baby go to the ends of the earth to bring their babies into their hearts and into this world. It leaves little room for doubt- these babies are MEANT to be here.

With all of this said, it is not an easy decision. It will affect my mind, my body and my family. I may not get the answer I want to hear. I may be wheeled in a week later to have a full hysterectomy. Regardless, what I need the most in my infertility chapter is true closure. Not a list of stats. A simple yes or no will do.

Five years ago, I got a call from one of my dearest friends. After struggling with infertility, going through treatment, multiple miscarriages they were in fact, finally (yes, I’m throwing out the “f” word infertiles) pregnant. I was so, so happy for her. But I will confess, painfully jealous. I cried a lot that night. Cried out of happiness for my friend who got her miracle. Cried for myself because mine hadn’t arrived yet. Once I got that cry out of my system, I knew it was time. Time to let go. Time to move on and be happy not just for myself, but for my friend whom I knew would be an amazing mama.

My husband and I let go. We decided that it was time to let go of the notion that we would be parents and embrace our life as dual income, no kids people. After letting go of the stress of trying to get pregnant and month after month of BFN’s, we actually started to enjoy our marriage and our life. We made plans to travel. We even joked about opening an Applebees-esque restaurant & bar where children wouldn’t be allowed. Yeah. We were “those” people.

I chuckle. Several weeks after a night of pretty heavy boozing, trips to both Mexico & Tahiti on the calendar, I ended up being one of those fertile people I loathed. Infertiles, you know of whom I speak. I will never under any circumstances say that it happened because I “relaxed”. I got a BFP. No rhyme. No reason. Just a miracle.

My Ridiculously Cute Miracle Baby

Well, a couple weeks ago, that same dear friend invited me out for drinks and dropped the bomb that they are miraculously pregnant with their 2nd baby. They went through all the stages- deciding that having one child was okay. Deciding to try again. Deciding not to try again. Looking into adoption. Passing on adoption. Looking into IVF. No medication. No rhyme. No reason. Just a miracle. Amazing.

Upon the announcement of their news, I got the slew of “Are you okay?” emails from mutual friends and family. You know what my answer was and still is? I AM FINE!! Actually, I love it. I loved their news so much that I got choked up not feeling sorry for myself for once, but truly, for them. I am so overwhelmingly happy for them. I am thrilled they give infertility a big FUCK YOU.

Miracles are real. My friend and I will share that bond always. Our miracle babies. We feel so blessed it is ridiculous.

Our Miracle Babies. We love that they are buds.

When I lost my left ovary and tube a year ago, I was all but told to forget about visions of another miracle baby. I was given scary statistics about a 60% miscarriage rate for someone with my condition, not to mention how hard it would be to get pregnant with one ovary in the first place and a questionable one at that. Being my stubborn self, the answer wasn’t a flat out NO, so I never really got any closure.

Despite this crushing diagnosis, the idea of a 2nd baby still haunts me. I see how good Jack is with his younger cousins. I think he would be an amazing big brother. I have found it hard to adjust to the idea of him being an only child yet often find myself thinking I’m crazy for thinking I could handle another. I even had a random dream a couple weeks ago that I had a daughter. Her name was Katie. My Kate.

So I’m just going to confess, right here, right now: I want another child. So much so that my husband and I had the conversation about taking the steps into IVF. I’m going to have another discussion with my doctor and start there. Perhaps she doesn’t want to touch my situation, which heck, I couldn’t blame her. I will then ask her for a referral for a RE and take this to the next level. I want this. Not out of jealousy of my friend. Not just for me and my husband. FOR JACKSON. He deserves a chance to be a big brother. If I get another “no way in hell” answer from a specialist, then I will accept my fate. I will be okay. We will be okay.

At least I will know that I tried.