Don't Count Your Eggs

Help @OneMoreShotDoc Win Project of the Month

Hi. Hubs here. A few weeks ago, our ONE MORE SHOT film project was highlighted as Project of the Day on Indiewire. Indwire is a film blog that highlights, you guessed it, indie films. It's a great resource and with the help of the film's fans and Maya's loyal readers, we won Project of the Week. This got us an introduction to a distribution company, something that is very important when it comes to getting the film seen down the road. This week, as I'm sure you're aware, we are up for Project of the Month. If we beat out the other films, we'll be connected with the TriBeCa Film Institute. This could put us over the top in connecting our important story with people that can help get the film seen by more people than we could on our own. So, just as a couple weeks ago, I'm asking that you please vote for One More Shot to be Project of the Month. Vote, share it on your social networks and with friends, have them vote. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

A lot of you donated to the Indiegogo campaign last month and I wanted to thank you again for doing so. Documentary films can move along in very incremental and small steps. It's part of the process. Your support has been so appreciated. Every contribution, every dollar, every time you Tweeted something about the project, has helped us move forward. I'm so excited about this and I can't wait for you to see it. 

Click here to go to voting. Voting ends Friday at 8am PST.

HUBS POST: It all Matters

Happy Friday, Egg Counters. This is my first Hubs Post since the arrival of the one we call Momo. I’m quite fond of her, to be honest. As babies go, she seems to be pretty cool. 

 

I’ve now had four weeks to digest what’s happened. We’ve taken five years of infertility - all the hopes and frustrations and prayers and heartbreak - and just like that it seems like they’re out the door. Gone.  I think about the people we’ve spoken with who have come out the other side of infertility challenges and it’s always the same thing. “I’d do it again because it was so worth it,” or “The moment I saw my baby, none of the problems I had before mattered.” To a certain extent I agree with them. Having a baby shifts your perceptions and priorities. But then again so does infertility.

 

Here’s the thing: it all matters. Everything you are going through or went through on the way to realizing your family matters. The injections and the money discussions and the frustrations all matter. They matter because this is what got (or will get) you here. They matter because they have changed you. I think those challenges of the past will help me with the challenges of the future. I believe I’ll have a perspective on parenthood and family I might not have had otherwise. And that’s a good thing. It’s an important thing. 

 

I have been spending some late nights editing on our documentary recently, more chances to relive those painful days and the angry reactions to failed procedures. It still hurts. Some scenes I simply don’t have the stomach to watch. I don’t think I want to forget those moments, though. Those moments got us to this point. And there were a lot of them. Still, I think that Momo is making it better. Every smile, every staring contest, every time she falls asleep on my chest as I sing Tom Waits songs to her, these things all help to write new memories. Good memories. And when you struggle for so long to begin your family, you want to accumulate all the good memories you can. So I won’t forget the bad stuff but I’m going to work extra hard to make sure I notice all the new good things that happen with this little one.

 

One last bit of self-promotion… Our documentary ONE MORE SHOT was recently selected as Indiewire's Project of the Day.  Now, we are in the running for Indiewire’s Project of the Week campaign. You can go here to vote for our project. Project of the Week honors would be great exposure for the film and another way for us to bring infertility conversations to the rest of the world.

 

Also wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who helped support our film,  One More Shot. We are working hard to make an awesome documentary about the IF struggle and what alternative family building really looks like! Stay tuned. Have a great weekend. I’m going to go stare at a baby. 

Help Spread the Word About Our #infertility Documentary! http://igg.me/at/onemoreshot

It's ON! Our Indiegogo fundraising campaign for our documentary is up and running! So please help us spread the word!

A few people have asked me why we are doing this. Why did Noah and I decide to film every aspect of our harrowing journey to parenthood, from the day before we met our RE to procedures like the HSG to the first shot of our IVF cycle to the moments of that first cycle when things started falling apart? Why did we continue to film over the next year, interviewing other couples with happy endings when our happy ending seemed so far in the distance? Why did we document how a sibling egg donor can impact a family? And how are we able to take a super sad and emotional topic  and find a little humor and a little laughter? 

We started making this film in 2012 as a way for us to process what was happening to us, and with the idea that we might make a short film about our single successful IVF cycle that we could share with others going through infertility. By 2014, our short film plan was way out the window. We had about 100 hours of footage and no idea how we were going to make a baby. Noah and I had fallen deeply into the abyss that is ART. We were broke and broken and yet always believed that there was a baby out there for us. We just had to find him or her.

So our story became more of a quest. At the intersection of modern medicine and that deep biological urge to have a family, came life lessons in compromise, survival, keeping hope alive, and sheer determination. We interviewed others who have sought alternative family building because we needed to know there were other ways to have a family. We felt these stories of people who got surrogates or donors, adopted or decided to live child-free, got miraculously pregnant when they were told they never would, or had successful IVF's or IUI's were such an important piece to all of this. So our short film turned into a feature film that we hope can educate people about infertility and making modern families. We hope the film will help increase awareness and understanding while decreasing stigma and isolation. 

We are documenting because we feel like we have to. Our story is the story of millions of people around the world. Our story is becoming more and more common. Our story will provide some hope for others who are running in circles on IF Island, and some insight for anyone who doesn't know much about the world of IF.  

But we need your support! Please pass our link around through twitter and other social media outlets. Tell your family and friends and help us spread the word!

INDIEGOGO: http://igg.me/at/onemoreshot

FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/OneMoreShotFilm

WEBSITE: www.onemoreshotfilm.com

TWITTER: @onemoreshotdoc

It has taken a village to make our baby (who turned 36 weeks old in my belly yesterday, whoo hoo!), and it will take another village to make this film. Please be a part of our village!

 

 

 

Infertility Around the World

A few weeks ago a writer from Chile contacted me wanting to write about our story and about embryo donation for a local magazine. We chatted on Skype and the article came out today in a magazine called El Mercurio-Revista YA,  so if you can read Spanish you might want to check it out. I'm not really sure what it says because my Espanol skills go to about the 7th grade, but I believe it talks about infertility and embryo donation, and discusses the medical, legal and ethical perspectives in Chile. 

It got me thinking about how infertility is a worldwide issue and experience. The most recent stat in America is that 7.3 million people suffer with infertility. That was in 2012. And I think must be low. I don't know what the numbers are in Australia or Japan or the UK, but it's millions and millions of people around the world. Each country deals with infertility within the context of their culture, and I think it would be really interesting to know more about what that looks like. Laws are different around the world and perhaps that sets the tone for what is medically available and how much support there is for people. It also often sets the tone for how people feel about their fertility struggles, whether it be stigma and shame or an understanding that infertility is a medical diagnosis that isn't anyone's fault. 

Infertility doesn't discriminate. It hits people from all over the world, younger people, older people, men and women, people in Brazil and people in China, well-off and not. And I also know that the feelings on IF Island are universal, so that even if we don't speak the same language we can understand the shared experience. We understand the basic biological urge to procreate and the unrelenting desire to have a family. And yet most people in the struggle feel so totally alone. 

That's one of the reasons Noah and I are documenting our story and the story of others who have built their family in alternative ways. Because people shouldn't feel alone. 

FRIDAY VIDEO POST: An IVF Success Story--It's Happiness

I feel like we need a moment of happiness to end the week. As we shift into holiday mode (which can sometimes be tough for peeps knee deep in infertility treatments) I wanted to share a very hopeful IVF story.

So Noah and I have been making a documentary about our seemingly epic journey to parenthood, and along the way we interviewed a variety of people/couples who used alternative ways to create their family. A majority of the people we spoke to did multiple ART procedures, spent years of their lives and tens of thousands of dollars. Some ended up with an egg donor, some used a surrogate, two couples ended up adopting, and two women, both over 40 btw, who were told they would NEVER be able to conceive naturally with their own eggs, did. (I want to acknowledge that the decision to live child-free is also a very important resolution to the infertility crisis). What's the lesson here? Infertility is complicated. The body can change. Doctors aren't always right, perhaps. And medical technologies are amazing and can really help. Sometime you just never know how your baby is going to find you.

One situation I was having a hard time finding was someone for whom IVF just worked. I think this was over a year ago, and the various interviews we were doing all had a similar theme--years and years of treatments and procedures. Noah and I were already a few years into the madness, so finding Kalle and Herbie was a reminder that IVF does work for many people, even when the chances seem really low. 

At 35, Kalle was diagnosed with Diminished Ovarian Reserve, was pre-menopausal, and had high FSH. She said the fertility doctor called her and said she, "thought she was looking at the test results of a woman who was almost 50." While husband Herbie didn't feel quite ready for kids, Kalle shifted into panic mode. A family was something she always wanted, and the thought that that could be taken from her was devastating. They decided to try naturally for a few months while Kalle followed the advice of her acupuncturist (who also happens to be my acupuncturist, Gilli Stuppel, and if you're in the LA area, she should also be your acupuncturist) and changed her diet to an alkaline diet. The couple quickly moved to IUI's because the clock was running out, and after about 4-5 IUI's they moved to IVF.

The first round of IVF resulted in the formation of one single follicle/egg. It didn't seem worth it to aspirate, so the cycle was essentially cancelled. The second round of meds produced 3-4, which resulted in two great quality embryos. They put both in, and guess what? Two beautiful healthy babies! Two in two out! Though the news of twins nearly made Herbie pass out, they were thrilled. Now those babies are walking, talking and dancing. 

I think this is one of the most hopeful success stories Noah and I have come across as we document alternative family building. They were in a seemingly dire situation--one egg? And in almost exactly one year, they went from devastating diagnosis to having a full blown family.  Take a look:

This couple knows how lucky they got. It's heartwarming to remember things like this can happen. But I think what Kalle says here is also important to remember. When we each hold our baby (or babies), it won't matter where they came from--egg donor, sperm donor, (or both), surrogate, a birth mother--it's our family, our baby. And it's our love and determination that will get them to us. 

Happy Friday everyone. Wishing you all a beautiful weekend. 

"Should I be Hopeful?"

Over the last few months I've gotten some emails from people in different situations asking me if I think they should be hopeful, or if there is any hope in their situation. Then yesterday, while working on our documentary,  Noah found the clip below, so I thought I'd share.

Confession--I am not naturally a super optimistic person. I'm not pessimistic either, but I'm very realistic and perhaps fairly scarred by what has gone down over the past several years for us here on IF Island. I was very optimistic during our first IVF cycle, and then I learned how heartbreaking it is when things don't work, and my blind faith in assisted reproductive technologies was gone. 

With each cycle and procedure we've done, I have found a way to be hopeful. I've geared up mentally and physically, and have had a terrifically optimistic husband at my side, keeping my doubts in check. I never went into anything unless I knew I felt open and hopeful, and I've learned how to cultivate that a bit.

The emails I have gotten lately are from people who have gone through similar losses and disappointments on IF Island. Women with a very low first beta, or few follicles, or only one normal embryo after PGD testing over 20 embryos. They ask me if I think there is any hope, and all I can do is think about the moment in the clip below. 

This was shot the day I got my first beta results from the embryo donation cycle. I had taken a home pregnancy test the day of the beta test, which looked like this:

And then I took a blood test that confirmed that faint whisper of a line with the number 23. The fertility clinic nurse said I was "technically pregnant" but that the number should be closer to 50. When I asked if there was any hope, the nurse said something like "you never know," but basically said this number was not that good.  Needless to say, I was hysterical (see below) and Noah continued to cheer us on:

 

My brain thought it was over. A 23??!!! But my heart wanted so badly to believe things were going to pan out. Comments on the blog from others who were in similar situations that turned out positive really helped me, as did doing some hypnosis work with my friend Lauren, who is a trained hypnotherapist. I went to her house at night during the week I played beta roulette and she drilled into my fearful subconscious that my beta numbers would double, that Momo was growing, and helped me visualize and imagine the sound of my doctor's voice giving us good news. I did my best to push aside the fear and doom, and found a way to be hopeful. 

Being on the defense sometimes feels like a good idea--believing nothing good will happen somehow convinces us that we don't care or the fall won't hurt as much. But it will. Because deep in our hearts lives a hope that all of us who dream to become parents just can't crush. We wouldn't be going through all the procedures and crap if we weren't in it to win it. So we have hope whether we want to believe it or not. 

The several women who wrote me asking about being hopeful did not all have positive outcomes. For some, their beta numbers rose and then fell, or the transfer of the one normal embryo didn't end up working. But should they not have been hopeful? Should they not have believed? Would that have made it better for them? I don't think so. My theory is you believe until the curtain falls. You put a positive energy into yourself until someone pulls the cord.

A few of the gals who wrote in did have positive results. One gal did an FET of an embryo that she was told became a blast on day 6 and was of poor quality. It was one of three embryos that formed from over 26 eggs retrieved. And it worked! We never know.

My starting beta at 23 is now an 18 week old fetus, who I think I felt doing a fist pump last night when the Giants won the baseball game. I wasn't hopeful all the time, sometimes my personal goal was to just be neutral and not let any negative energy seep in. I tried my best and I've learned that sometimes hope is all we have. 

Sending lots of hope to everyone out there waiting to see what happens. 

Normalizing how Modern Families are Made

Today I had the NT scan. An over the belly ultrasound that measures the baby bits to see if there is a nose bone and some brain parts and something about fluid in the spine. Ask me anything about follicles or fallopian tubes and I can give you an exact scientific answer. Ask me about anything P related and you get "some brain parts." I'm well aware of my area of expertise. Though I woke up with the thought that this could be the worst day of my life, I left the doc with the thought that this is really happening. I still have that placenta primavera jazz (previa) but I'll just hope it works itself out. Look at me being all nonchalant! 

Last night our production team came over and we talked about the documentary we've been making, ONE MORE SHOT. (I don't have a FaceBook page but the film does. Come be our friend at OneMoreShotFilm. I promise no belly picts!). Noah and I have been filming for over two years, and now that we think we are on our way to our ending we are kicking the film into full gear with the help of some incredible people who know how to make it all happen. Sitting around with everyone talking about our lives in third person felt a little strange. Knowing these folks have been watching footage of the most intimate and terrible moments of our lives made me feel proud of what we are doing. Maybe part of me really should be embarrassed, there is a LOT of footage of me peeing in a cup or crying, or both. But I don't feel embarrassed. I feel like our story is the story of 7.3 million Americans and millions more around the word, and if Noah and I can give a face to this, then here we are. I don't like all the secrecy and stigma and I don't like how alone or ashamed some people feel. Infertility is no ones fault. It happens, and it's a medical condition. And it needs to be better understood, and hopefully one day covered by insurance!

Another thing that is important to me is the idea of normalizing how many modern families are created. If all goes well, I'm going to give birth to our adopted daughter. Wow. Writing that down just brought tears to my eyes. She is 100% ours, but genetically she is 100% the gift of strangers. She has siblings out in the world, and she will know her story from day 1. Or day whenever she can understand. With scientific advancements, there's a lot we can do to make a family. It's amazing and it's a miracle, and I'd like to be a part of also making it normal. A family is a group of people who love each other and care about each other. A baby is a tiny person who has little bitty fingers and toes. That's all that matters in the end.

We interviewed a woman over the weekend, who became a single mom by choice at the age of 46 with the help of an egg donor and a sperm donor. She jokingly referred to her "Frankenstein baby," but seeing the tiny little girl in her arms she was far from monstrous. She was beautiful and special. She was a gift from pieces of other people who allowed this woman to become a mother. 

It has taken a village, literally, to make Momo. I tried to count all the people involved from doctors, to naturopathy docs, to friends, to family to donors...it's more than I can count on two hands. So as Noah always says, when this kid is born she will know she was so wanted, that other people wanted us to have her too. So where's the shame in that? I had/have a broken part and my village helped me find a way around it. To me that's a beautiful thing. 

A Walk, A Film, and A Smile: Happy Friday IF Island

Happy Friday!

Last night, Noah and I walked to get burgers. It's been warm at night here in LA LA Land and we walked down the streets in near silence. I asked him how his day was, he had a few highlights. He asked me what I had eaten that day--I lied about some healthy stuff and we held hands on and off. I looked over at him and could see the indentations of his dimples. It made me smile and I said, "are we genuinely happy for the first time in four years?" He laughed a kind of sad but content laugh. Four years. As much as we were able to find our moments, do things that made us feel whole and normal and happy--much of the past four years have been kind of miserable. The weight of infertility sits like two giant anvils on either shoulder. The uncertainties and medical processes and waiting are cyclical, and with each lap around you just get more worn out and emotionally exhausted. In between it's important to find your happy. We went on little vacations, we went to baseball games and concerts and tried to live normal lives, but it was always a conscious effort to not be unhappy. My yoga practice and finding my mantra saved me in a lot of ways. For Noah, going to the gym and playing rec softball saved him a little. We did our best with what we had, and we learned to survive and find moments of relief and happiness. But last night we allowed ourselves to both feel genuinely happy without trying. I almost forgot what that's like.

Today I wanted to share some info. There's an upcoming walk in SoCal that supports infertility. My friend Candace, who we interviewed for the film, is helping to organize the event. It's Resolve's Walk of Hope in Long Beach on September 21st. Noah and I will be there with a booth sharing information about our documentary, ONE MORE SHOT. (If you haven't watched the extended trailer you can do so here.) 

Noah and I have been working on this film for over two years. And we are excited to just be getting the website up (it's a work in progress, we need to fix up some of the picts still), but we are ready to push full steam ahead to get this thing done and out into the world. It follows our own journey through diagnostic procedures, IUI's, IVF, donor eggs, FET's, and finally embryo adoption, and everything in between. (I still feel very cautious even thinking we have found our ending, but I'm going to believe it until proven otherwise). We also interview several couples who have created their families in alternative ways. This weekend we are supposed to interview a woman who decided to pursue single motherhood later in her reproductive years, and has an 8 week old in her mid forties using donor eggs and donor sperm. 

So stay tuned! If you live in SoCal, we'd love to meet you at the walk! If you don't or can't make it out, please stay connected by signing up on our mailing list on the Doc website! We are hoping to start a fundraiser soon so we can finish this thing legitimately and really start raising awareness about infertility and normalizing the different ways families are made.

Wishing everyone on IF Island a beautiful weekend. 

Is This Normal?

On Saturday night I was jarred awake by an intense pain in my stomach. I rushed to the bathroom to see if that would relieve the pain, but it didn’t, and immediately I started to sweat and fear the worst. I was convinced I was having an ectopic and my tube was going to explode and I would die from internal bleeding. I tried to calm down but the pain was there and it was for reals. I have had some cramping all week, off and on, which can be “normal” according to the internet. But this feeling was different. Noah tried to calm me down but I was a wreck. We decided if the pain didn’t subside in an hour we would go to the emergency room, and I got in bed and tried to breath through it while Noah Googled all the possibilities. And there were a lot of possibilities. After 30 minutes the pain decreased, and after 45 minutes it was practically gone, and I fell back asleep, gripping my belly and hoping that Momo was still in there. How was your Saturday night?

 

Not knowing what to expect is scary. It is one of the hardest things about infertility treatments and about this next grayish area where I’ve just landed. Even when you’re given some parameters of what is supposed to happen, it rarely turns out how you thought it was going to be.

 

The only thing normal about infertility is uncertainty. Not only are the treatments foreign in the beginning, but you also don’t know when you’re going to get out. Years ago, if someone said to me, “this is going to be a nightmare and you’ll go through all kinds of devastating things, but in 2015 you’ll have your baby,” I could have gone through it, no problem. The physical and emotional pain--all of it. With bells on, if I knew my outdate. But it doesn’t work like that. Often with infertility as things fail to work, you get more (sometimes less) information that somehow often makes the situation worse. All the while your bank account and relationships and spirit are running out like sand through an hourglass. This uncertainty, I’m learning, doesn’t really stop even when you have rising beta numbers. I’m still feeling it now. It’s as if I was able to purchase the ferry ticket off the Island, but now I’m just waiting. I don’t know if a boat is going to show up. I don’t know if my ride will be cancelled due to technical difficulties, or an unexpected storm coming in. I don’t know if I’ll finally be able to step aboard and then the ship will sink. Or if it will indeed take me to the other side of all this.  I’m still living with that uncertainty.

 

The trauma of the last four years have primed me to expect the worst. I simply know too much about what can go wrong. So when something doesn’t feel right, alarm bells go off in my body. It’s completely physical, and though my brain can tell me everything is ok, my body starts to freak out. I know it’s because in every situation I’ve been in thus far, the other shoe has dropped. Imagining a different outcome, a positive outcome is something I’ve had to work on. A lot. A friend of mine is a hypnotherapist and she has been helping me do this. She has been tapping into my unconscious self to be able to trust my body again, and envision all things positive. I’m getting better. I feel hopeful and positive about Momo. But the other night I remembered my deep seeded fear and knew I had a lot more work to do on letting go of that trauma.

 

What helps me and has helped me through this process are different success stories. As part of the documentary Noah and I have been making, we’ve interviewed a variety of people/couples who have found their way off the Island. Though it doesn’t seem like it, all of us will get off. Sometimes it is with a resolution we never fathomed.

 

Tammy is at the far end of the hope spectrum. She and her husband had multiple factors (one of which was actually a prescription medication her husband was on that the didn't know was negatively impacting his sperm) and were essentially told they would never conceive naturally. After several years and multiple inseminations, IVF with donor eggs was recommended. Well, Tammy, who was over 40, did conceive her baby girl naturally, proving that we never really know what’s going to happen on our journey.

 

 

 

Even though Tammy might be an unusual case, it helps me to remember anything can happen. Noah and I have met a lot of people who, after years of treatments, have found a resolution to their infertility crisis. Noah and I never imagined that we would be here, crossing our fingers to hear a heartbeat at our August 8^th ultrasound. I never thought I’d be a little pregnant with a teeny tiny bean of human life that isn’t genetically related to me or my husband. I never thought I’d be a little pregnant, period. Infertility feels so never ending. But I’m trying to convince myself that perhaps this is my resolution in the making. I’m trying to create a new new normal, yet again. 

Resolve's Hope Award for Best Blog Nominee!

                                                

So this little old blog that started out as a way to express my feelings and connect to other IF Islanders was just nominated for Resolve's Hope Award for best blog! Please click here and vote if you find this blog helpful. It's been great to read some of the other blogs because it means more people are talking about infertility and sharing their stories. That's important. Infertility can be very isolating, and no one should feel alone.

When Noah and I entered this very elite world of A.R.T., we had NO IDEA where we were or where we were headed. What we did know was this place, this Island, was different. The normal rules of life we were used to--if you work hard you will succeed--didn't apply. At all. We also knew that many people felt shame about their infertility, and as a social worker, that really didn't sit well with me. That's part of why we decided to start documenting our journey on film. We'd never really seen what infertility looked like, until now. Now we've seen it all through our own experiences with IUI, IVF, sibling egg donation and now embryo adoption, and through interviewing other couples, we've also learned more about egg donation and surrogacy and open adoption and other alternative family building options. We as a society are at the beginning stages of normalizing that there are many different ways to build a family. And we hope our film will help that cause.

None of us would choose to be here on IF Island. It's total insanity. Infertility completely overwhelms one's life and relationships--sometimes it hits so hard it rocks your sense of self to the core. It's destabilizing and at times plain torture, but having gone through what we have so far has made us better people and will make us better parents. I have no doubt in my mind.

So while we didn't choose to be here, here we are. Trying to make the sweetest lemonade we can out of some sour-ass lemons, as Noah always says. Our FET is tomorrow at 1pm. This is a clip of us just before our last FET. I guess I kind of feel the same way--just ready to do this thing. Actually, this time I feel more like how I imagine a boxer feels before a fight-- a little anxious, a little pumped, and a lot ready to kick some ass!

Join the Movement: HOW AM I MAKING A DIFFERENCE IN WAYS LARGE AND SMALL IN THE LIVES OF PEOPLE WITH INFERTILITY?

I decided to launch this blog during National Infertility week because I wanted to find a way to make a difference in the lives of people who struggle with infertility. For the past almost 3 years now, my husband, Noah, and I have been exiled into this world of infertility against our will, and we’ve had to figure out how to survive with nothing but a shopping bag full of hormone shots and a calendar of doctors appointments. 

Noah is a television producer. I am a Licensed Clinical Social Worker. With his film skills and my strong belief in advocacy, we started documenting our process in April 2012, a year after we started “trying.” We shot the first doctor’s appointment with a Reproductive Endocrinoloist in Los Angeles, and continued to shoot every appointment, hormone induced argument, and trip to the pharmacy right through to our failed IVF cycle. We have also been interviewing other couples, who I think of as “survivors,” who have had to be creative in building their families. Our intention is to one day share our journey to parenthood, because even though we don’t yet know how we are going to create our family, we know that we will one day be parents. I have also been writing about our experiences, but the only person thus far who has read anything I’ve written is my dad. And my dad is not currently struggling with infertility, so my words are of absolutely no help to him. They actual just upset him because he is a helpless parent watching his daughter struggle. But he is a writer who has always encouraged me to write. So now I am taking the next step and learning how to use the internet so that I can share my writing with others who feel alone and isolated on a little life raft in the terribly choppy waters of infertility. 

The archive and video posts will tell you where we’ve been. The current postings will tell you where we’re going. Our adventures in Infertility-land started in 2011.

2011 was the year we tried to start a family.

2012 was the year we failed to start a family. 

2013 is TBD.

We officially got the diagnosis of “explained infertility” when I got an HSG X-RAY that looked like this,

showing only one wonky fallopian tube. Then I had a laparoscopic surgery that looked like this,

which reveled two wonky fallopian tubes as the doc couldn’t pass ink through either tube. With seemingly no functioning fallopian tubes, we moved straight to IVF, where I learned that I also have Diminished Ovarian Reserve (DOR), and even though I ate this for breakfast and dinner for ten days straight,

my few follicles hardly responded. On retrieval day the RE got 3 good quality eggs, all of which fertilized, none of which divided properly. We closed shop in early December before transfer day $16,000 poorer. 

This year, so far we’ve attended several meetings about adoption. We’ve discussed donor eggs and I’ve been learning to let go of my own biology and embrace the possibility of having a child with less neurosis and nice legs. I’ve had another HSG because I’ve become a fan of having French Tipped balloons shoved up my privates, which surprisingly revealed TWO OPEN FALLOPIAN TUBES and with that, the possibility to try IUI (Intrauterine insemination), which is much less expensive and less invasive than IVF.  I went back on a steady diet of post-menopausal nuns pee injected straight to the belly, which led to one dominant follicle. Only one. But it only takes one—or so I hear. I did the dirty with a turkey baster full of my husband’s best swimmers and now we wait.

Wait. Wait. Wait. 

In the three years that we’ve been waiting for this to happen for us, I’ve successfully shared our challenges with everyone I know, thus encouraging friends, family and co-workers to check their eggs and start the baby making process as early as possible. The result has been the birth of 48 (and counting) babies to said friends, family and co-workers. Though I may not have helped infertile couples, I’ve become quite the fertility charm for others, helping everyone else hit that developmental milestone of parenthood while Noah and I watch from afar. As an LCSW, I’ve tried to start a support group, but I’m in a strange position because I’m both a peer and a professional. I know once I find an end to this journey and a beginning to our family my career will lead me to help others cope. Because I know firsthand that this is not an easy ride.

So in the mean time, as we wait, I can offer my words. I hope to bring some sense of connection and moments of laughter as well as helpful resources and coping tools. I hope to become a part of the online community of support and advocacy. Infertility shouldn’t be an island. With over 7 million people struggling to conceive there’s no reason to feel so alone. 

                        Thanks to RESOLVE.ORG for being such a great resource. Check out

• http://www.resolve.org/infertility101  (Basic understanding of the disease of infertility.)
• http://www.resolve.org/national-infertility-awareness-week/about.html (About NIAW)

www.resolve.org/niaw