Pile O’ Blood

NOTE: I wrote this post in/around March of 2014, shortly after our try with IVF. At the time, I didn’t want to publish it because I was still wrapping my head around what was going on. Now my head is firmly wrapped.

We never did get any answers or definitive results from any of the rounds of testing we did. We are officially “unexplained infertile” and it will most likely stay that way until the end of time.


March 2014 — So Hubs and I scraped up enough moolah to try a round of IVF. It’s something that has been on the back burner for several years as we worked in recovering emotionally from multiple losses early on in our adventure. Last November we started taking a close look at how much IVF would cost, what would be involved.

It costs a lot. Our insurance doesn’t cover any infertility treatments. Grand total was over $13,000, which we paid in cash. Holy smokes that’s a lot of cash.

It involved a lot of needles. During one week I was injecting myself with three different needles every morning. I got pretty amazing at pinching my thighs. I got really good at giving blood too. Lotsa regular blood tests involved.

Unfortunately, the cycle failed. We had a positive pregnancy test and then the blood started flowing a few days later. We had some serious moments of despair that week. Plenty of quiet tears. Fortunately, this kind of loss is not the shock it once was.

We have had a few weeks to marinate on where we go from here. Before we started we were looking at adoption as our next move. Then, after the IVF cycle failed, I started investigating options closely. There are some things about our options that raise concerns for us. Still on the table, but cautiously.

I’m loathe to experience another pregnancy loss. It’s tough. It’s lonely, and I hate seeing my husband hurt. Watching him deal with this loss were some of the worst moments of my adult life.

So before we even think about any more medical interventions we are getting yet another round of tests done. This round tests both of us for chromosomal issues that might mess with a developing fetus. And I’m being tested for immunological issues that might account for a bunch of very early pregnancy fails.

I filled up a LOT of tubes the other day.


Fun fact: nurses love when you warn them about a vaso-vagal hypersensitivity ahead of time.


Changing Tide?

Let me tell you about this past week.

I’m visiting my sister, who recently had a baby. I love my sister, and I LOVE my niece, and visiting is hard. This visit is nowhere near as hard as the last one – I’m thoroughly enjoying myself this time around. Baby makes eye contact, smiles, laughs, baby-talks, and snuggles. (New) Mom has a routine and a confidence she hadn’t built up yet the last time I was here.

When I fall asleep at night, I fall asleep knowing that all too soon I will return to my quiet, childless house. No more baby smiles or conversations or weird faces. It’s borrowed baby-time. For as much as I’m loving the time I have here, it is also an ever-present reminder of what we’ve lost.

There have been two pregnancy announcements in as many days. One was from a young couple whose wedding Hubs and I attended a few years back. Kinda’ puts into perspective our age and how long we’ve been dealing with the whole infertility thing. This is another situation where we will simultaneously be so excited to meet the new baby (and new parents) while being very aware of what we’ve lost.

And then there were birth announcements. A friend of mine from school, who also struggled with infertility, had a gorgeous baby. Another friend who has terrifically dangerous pregnancies gave birth to another healthy baby.

Most days (these days) I don’t have an issue with these things. Most days I have enough distance between me and raw pain that I can feel the joy (and only the joy) that comes with these kinds of events.

Maybe it’s being around an adorable, happy, healthy baby that makes it so much harder to focus only on joy. While I’m visiting this wonderful baby and her wonderful parents I’m LIVING a new-baby life (to some extent) and it’s impossible to disconnect from my own desire to have it for myself. Maybe when it’s not as much of a novelty it won’t be such a challenge.

Rough patch. And a rough patch when I really don’t want one. I want to enjoy the time I have with Baby and New Parents.

So then, randomly, I won an all-expenses paid trip to an infertility and adoption conference in California. I’ve been following the conference (and its enthusiastic attendees) for several years with plenty of mild envy and no real hope of getting out there to go.

And now, suddenly, I get to go.

It’s next month. I expect it to be a bright moment in this journey, this long and never-ending journey. In fact, I’m anticipating it as an oasis of sorts. There’s so much about this kind of life that is challenging and sad and difficult and this trip will most definitely include more than that. I suspect much more.

For some, the conference has been a game changer. Maybe it will be for us, as well. At the very least, it will be a wonderful adventure and that’s something I don’t often get to say about anything related to infertility/adoption/loss.


PS I suspect some People had a Hand in this. I have no idea which People, and no idea what kind of Hand, but I don’t think this was an entirely random (ie: celestially-ordained) thing.

So if you’re one of the People who had a Hand in the trip: thank you. And please share my thanks with any other People.

You’re great and I lurv you.