Sunday, February 23, 2014

Yes, seriously.

Ok so the boodwork was negative - no surprise. Still no kid anywhere in sight.

And I guess I'm through at least a couple stages of grief by now since I'm no longer angry like I was on Thursday. Well, maybe a still a bit angry at the universe but that's kind of like background radiation at this point. I've either skipped completely over the bargaining stage or am so squarely immersed in it that I can't tell. I'm definitely hitting some of the highlights of the depression stage (why bother, what's the point, ect) but lord knows that's NO country for me to linger in. I would not say I've reached any form of acceptance - though we have made up our minds about what we want to do.

We're going to try again. Husband is very adamant we not give up, GC has said she's ok to go again, and the money - well, that just is what it is. Let's hope we don't owe the IRS too much this year and that we can find a cheap place to take a few days off this July. HOWEVER. I really want to try to make this next round easier.

For starters: I will talk to the clinic about getting their shit together. I want to switch coordinators and get one that will always keep me in the loop and take a lot of this organization off my shoulders. I will also probably talk to my friend, my "GC," about how it's just hard for me to feel like all of this is out of my control. I know she knows this (I've said it before) but it'd probably be good for me to say it because I really don't want her to pick up on my frustration and ever be insulted in any way. I do trust her judgement - it's just hard (for me) to trust anyone with something like this. Lifting some pieces of furniture and driving through a snowstorm is not really considered dangerous if you're a little bit pregnant. I mean, it's not like she was skydiving while drinking a handle of tequila. I'm just hyper-sensitive. And when you spend two weeks hoping and frankly, looking for any kind of a sign that this worked, you get hyper-ultra-crazy-sensitive. So that one's on me.

I read (well, truthfully, devoured) a good book last week called The Baby Chase all about surrogacy. It basically confirmed that we're doing the right things and for the right reasons. It made me feel better about not trying any half measures or adoption and going straight to the most extreme intervention possible. However, it did explain that even when you get all the pieces right, no one really knows why IVF only has a 33-50% chance of working and there are a lot of people who try and try like us with no success - and how galling that can be. It also talked about the expense and how most people cannot do this and wind up going to India or a foreign country where health care is cheaper.

My favorite part of the book was that the woman trying to have a baby (real woman - nonfiction) was ineligible for adoption because of a history of psych issues. And it talked about how parody laws were supposed to cover mental illness but they don't really deal with so many things that I guess some would deem quality of life issues. Yes, in American today, you now can be mentally ill and have some access to care (well, unless you get incarcerated in which case, god help you). She had medicine and was no longer a risk to herself. But most mentally ill suffer daily with a chronic disability that there are no handicapped ramps for. Access to many of the things in life that "regular" people have is out of reach. Like raising a child. Like a career.

Last night, my conversation with my husband turned back to why I can't carry this baby in the first place - my anxiety and the physical symptoms it's spawned. Why AM I so anxious we both wonder sometimes. We have a very nice life these days. Ultimately, I told him, a lot of what frustrates me these days is how small my life has become. I grew up thinking I'd be someone important in my field. Then, when I was extremely sick and trying to get better, I believed that was a noble battle to be fighting and was proud of how better I got after how sick I'd been. But since we left California, and my illness has been "in remission," I haven't really done anything too spectacular: I've kept a house, organized our financial lives, performed well at my job and took great care of our marriage and pets. But none of that comes close to the level of achievement I expected. Perhaps it's foolish and egotistical to dream big. Or, perhaps it's appropriate considering my education. I'll never know.

I do know, however, why I no longer dream big. I assume I cannot do things because I'm disabled. And hunkering down into a little inoffensive ball is making my neck hurt - literally. I want to stand UP.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

seriously? no really. SERIOUSLY?

WED AM:
Gestational Carrier “GC”: “Hm. My wife wants those twin beds our sister in law’s giving away so since I'm off work, I guess I’ll rent a truck, drive out to pick them up and then drive them up to our weekend house – I’m sure that snowstorm won’t cause any problems - and lifting furniture seems fine for a woman who's getting a pregnancy test tomorrow as long as I disassemble it into little parts.”

WED PM:
GC:  “wow – that was an unpleasant and stressful drive. Oh hey, I got my period - darn it. Well I won’t tell Juniper 'til the morning - that way I can talk to the clinic first about what to do. I’ll just tell her I’ll call her tomorrow at 10am after I drop my son off at his appointment.”

Juniper: “Wow – hard to believe we won’t find out the pregnancy test results ‘til tomorrow evening. It’s been so hard to wait. Wish we just knew already.”


THURS 11AM:
Juniper: “Hey… what’s up? Haven’t heard from you.”

GC: “Good dropped the little man off and am at Starbucks. I know you are in with a client so I figured I wouldn't bother you.”

Juniper: “Ok. When do u go to the clinic for the bloodwork? This afternoon?”

GC: “I am waiting to hear from the clinic. I emailed them this morning. I got my period last night and I didn't know if they wanted to do the test or reset the schedule.” 

Um… reset the $20,000 schedule my husband & I aren’t sure we can handle?!?

Juniper: “Ok. I assume they'll still want u to take the test b/c you could still be pregnant & have a period (I think - I mean, I grant u, it's not likely)”

GC: “I know. But if I am not I want to get started on the next cycle.”

Juniper: “Well they won't start anything ‘til after your period’s over & we consult w/the Dr. anyway.”

GC: “hold on – they emailed. I am going to do the bloodwork and then we will see where we stand.” Of course they are – that’s what I just SAID.

Juniper: “Ok. So when will u go?”

GC: “I'll go to test tomorrow morning at [the clinic near my house]”

Juniper: I just talked to [my husband] and I think we’d prefer you go today as planned - If we wait ’til tomorrow, there’s no certainty we’ll get the results from the city ’til Sat AM and that's a long time to wait.” She went.

THURS PM:
Clinic: “Hi Juniper,  [GC] went into the lab after 2PM today so I do not have results, I will call you tomorrow.”


Juniper: “OK I understand. Thanks for the update. [GC] was reluctant to go when she saw that she had gotten her period but I knew we'd need to do the bloodwork nonetheless so I urged her to go this afternoon when she had a free moment. I knew this would, unfortunately, delay the results until tomorrow.” Cue screaming sound in my head…

Sunday, February 09, 2014

so tired I can't see straight

well. I suppose an update would be in order - though in truth, there's not much to update. At least, not yet.

The first transfer cycle failed. No idea why - good embryo, good uterus... just didn't grab on. When I heard, I was surprised to find I was 15% sad, 75% angry and 10% relieved. Why sad? Well that's self evident. Why relieved? Well because I know just the pregnancy itself (not to mention the actual child) will completely turn our lives inside-out and, like all prospective parents, we do get nervous about what that'll look like for our jobs, marriage, sleep, finances, ect.

But why mostly angry? Well I'd just read an article on the NYTimes "Fertility Diary" series titled "How Much Would you Pay for a Baby." And it exactly described how I felt and why I was so angry. I'm NOT a gambler - last time I was in Vegas was on a research trip and I played nickel blackjack 'til I got my free drink and then left.

But this time we'd put our money on black and lost. It's hard to estimate exactly how much we lost... somewhere in the neighborhood of at least $20k when you figure the embryos cost approximately $10k each to make and the fertility clinic costs are about $10k each try. Of course that doesn't get into all the other costs of lawyers and travel time and thank you gifts for my friend, but you get the picture. And sure, it's not all our money - as I mentioned in my last post we're using part of my inheritance so it's not like we're going hungry over here. But STILL. That's just a lot of money to lay out for absolutely nothing, well except the pleasure of getting kicked in the nuts. Because of course, that's the other thing we lost... hope. After seeing a cycle fail, it became hard to see this process as anything other than a very long and painful slog. You stop thinking about how awesome it'll be to have a child of your own and start thinking about how much it's going to suck to keep going through this again and again and again.

But practical people that we are and knowing that it's about a 50/50 chance each time, we said we'd ante up again. Great, our doctor said! Next cycle starts in mid January with a transfer date of February 7th. We took a break from thinking about all this over the holidays and honestly felt a bit saner after a month.

And now we're in the thick of it again and, true to form, this cycle's been absurdly challenging from start to finish. Each weekly checkup for our gestational carrier been screwed up by some ridiculous bookkeeping error. They didn't send out the initial instructions because our "coordinator" was away. The monitoring clinic canceled for Chinese New Year but we were told a different day so then both days had to be rescheduled. And then, like the fucking cherry on top of the sundae, on Thursday night, our clinic called and said the our carrier's day-before labs looked off and we may not be able to go through with this cycle. So on Friday we all drove the 2 hours to the clinic, assuming we'd only double check the labs and then be told to go home - sorry about that $3k of monitoring fees, play again next month! And then the labs were fine and we went ahead and did the transfer as planned. Well, except with a lot more sobbing from me because COME ON! Jerk me around a bit more while you're at it universe...

And so we wait. One day down (the only day that actually matters of course - it's either stuck by now or it hasn't) and only 12 more to go! Whee.

I'm scared it won't work (of course) and I'm scared it will. If it works, I then have to make it 9 long months with my kiddo in someone else's body. The further we get into this, the scarier that seems. I've gotten a pretty good look at myself throughout this whole process and I've learned just how hard it is for me to put my trust in others. I absolutely trust my friend to be a good carrier. However, that doesn't mean that every single day she carries that baby, a very good chunk of by brain is going to be pre-occupied with how they're doing.

So in summary:
Give me our baby NOW.
We've been really patient.
And I'm not sure how much longer we can wait.
We're both getting incredibly tired.