Don't Count Your Eggs

Let's Get Physical

This Friday let's all take a minute to honor our bodies because, let's face it, on IF Island and beyond our bodies go through some s*&t. 

I was thinking about this at 2am as I struggled to strap the handsfree pumping bra around my ribcage. I was covered in milk and wondering when I last felt good in my body. Going through years of infertility treatments does something really specific to a person physically. Aside from a little added weight and an overall feeling of heaviness, for me I just didn't feel good. Hormones injected straight to the gut can do that to a gal, I suppose. I can't fully describe it, but for years everything kind of hurt. My body was sore from shots, my clothes didn't fit right, and during stimulation cycles I felt like I was carrying around a bag of rocks in my ovaries, even though I hardly had any follicles. I can't imagine what it would feel like for women who have a ton of eggs or who hyper-stimulate.

I think I somehow thought that after all the ART treatments, being P would be blissful and feel amazing. Ummm. No. I was well aware that birth wasn't going to be like a day at the spa, but didn't realize I'd be three weeks out and still feel like I've been crapping lightbulbs for the past few weeks. Yeah. Things down there hurt. And I definitely didn't consider how physically hard it would be to breastfeed. But it's just how things are and have been I suppose, and my years on IF Island have helped condition me to sitting with the physically uncomfortable and being ok. 

I vividly remember the first shot I got in the stomach. I was so nervous and terrified. And slowly the pain of the shots was just a little pain, and my new norm was that of being sweaty and bloated. But perhaps the worst part was feeling so bad about my body at times. Feeling frustrated with how it was or wasn't functioning, and feeling uncomfortable overall. It's hard enough to have to go through infertility treatments, to look and feel crappy on top of everything just sucks. 

That's why it's so important to be kind to yourself, and that's the reminder I want to throw out today. What we tell ourselves about our bodies is important. Being patient and thankful that our bodies are as strong and resilient as they are is vital. And of course treating yourself to a massage, a long walk outside, a new pair of slimming black pants-- whatever you can do to feel good. You deserve it. We all deserve it.

I hope everyone on IF Island has some time this weekend for self-care and pampering. Whether you're in a cycle, newly, or not so newly P, parenting after IF or whatever, take a moment to recognize how amazing your body is and do something that helps you feel good in your skin. 

Trust Your Body

The day, or few days, before I have a doctor's appointment, I get this sick feeling that Momo might not be there. I'm so conditioned to bad news, that even now, when we've been getting good news thus far, something deep in my psyche is still uneasy. Noah has been saying the same thing over and over to me, "You have to start trusting your body again." And he is 100% right.

For the first time in a long time, my body is doing what it's supposed to be doing. I've written several posts about the disconnect between mind and body that sometimes happens on IF Island, and the difficult relationship we have with our bodies when going through treatments, and the overall importance of knowing your body and taking care of it. Now I'm at a place where the most important thing I can do, other than feed and take care of myself best I can, is to learn to trust my body again. So many times I've felt frustrated or confused by my body. So many times my body has responded in the opposite way than it was supposed to. So many times I've felt sabotaged or betrayed by my own body. I've abused it with medications and being in this process for years, my once strong and toned body has drastically changed. Needless to say it's been rough. But now my body is doing what it is supposed to do. It is holding on to Momo and allowing her to grow (I think), and I have to tell myself that, over and over again. Or Noah does. Until I can fully believe it. I can only imagine how hard it is for people who have miscarried to trust their bodies again. But each experience is different, and we all have to remember that. Our bodies want to do this, it just takes some of us more time to figure it out.

I stopped the PIO shot on Saturday and will test to see that my levels are ok tomorrow after my NT scan. I wonder if I'm feeling much sicker these last few days because of some hormone shift or because I am nervous. Whatever the case may be I'm trying to be reassured that feeling crappy is a good sign and am hoping that with time I can regain that trust in my body once again. 

Don't Complain, This is What You Wanted!

Yesterday my RE asked me how I felt. I told him I've never felt so happy to feel so crappy, and he responded by saying he could prescribe me something to make me feel better if I needed. Fine. That's nice. But I've felt crappy since 2010, so this is just a different version of how living on IF Island makes a person feel.

When we started trying in 2010, I was using ovulation predictors and taking my temperature every morning. I was obsessive and told by some people to gain a little weight so I did what I could to fatten up a bit. For someone like me who used to hit the gym several times a week and does yoga religiously and likes to hike and go for long bike rides, I quickly started to feel crappy in my body. (Here are a few past posts about the physical discomfort of the whole IF shebang.) I know a few people on IF Island who are marathon runners and crossfit folks and I'm sure the physical sacrifices of living on the Island are even harder for people like them. 

After trying naturally and "fattening up" a bit, we started ART. That meant hormones and 2ww and being told not to do yoga or twist or jump or pretty much do anything. The emotional toll was severe so I sometimes ate to feel better, because nothing felt good except mint chip ice cream. The hormones made me feel lethargic so I wasn't motivated to even workout at times. Paying for a gym membership seemed like a waste, because post transfer or IUI or even trying naturally, I was in a two week period of not wanting to strain my stomach or do anything to potentially compromise anything that might be implanting. And then the years flew by and the hormone weight settled in areas of my body that just made me feel heavy and gross, and no matter what I did it just stuck. Then I turned 33. Then 34. And this heavy, mushy feeling has become my norm. I hate it, but I've stopped resenting it. It is what it is, and one day I'll be able to work up a sweat and feel good again. 

So the fact that I'm basically in bed for much of the day trying to shove as much food into my face as possible while also trying not to barf my brains out just feels like the next level of all this. I actually feel concerned if I don't feel sick. But if one more person tells me this is what I wanted, someone is going to get hurt. Yes, this IS what I wanted and NO, I'm not complaining, I'm stating facts. But honestly, If I WAS complaining, I think I have every right to. Just because I went through four extra years of feeling miserable doesn't make me less entitled to bitch and moan than someone who got knocked up after a drunken night. But seriously, I'm not complaining. 

I am sending a huge hug, though, to everyone on IF Island who just physically feels like the word blech. I get it. It's terrible. I don't know when it's going to pass but I just think of it as yet another early sacrifice we make for our kids-to-be. 

Information Overload

One of the problems about IF Island is that there are rarely straight forward answers. You don't ever know exactly why something does or doesn't work, and you're never totally sure if doing one or two things different will help or hurt. The less we know, the more we search. At least I do. Between my various doctors, friends, IF Island buddies, Dr. Google, Eastern medicine doctors, my sis (who is a doctor)--there are a lot of cooks in the kitchen. Everyone has a slightly different opinion and recommends a different supplement, it makes me feel like a dog chasing his tail.

That's how yesterday was for me. Last week I went to a place called the Lotus Center in Pasadena, and had a really great treatment and was given some information about the problems being MTHFR positive (heterozygous) could cause. MTHFR is a fairly common gene mutation that I am positive for. I started looking into it and asking different doctors and have gotten very differing opinions from, "don't worry about it, it's not a big deal," to "take these [very expensive] methylfolate pills..." It's been making my head spin a little and I don't really understand the problem, if it really is a problem, or whose advice to follow.  Much of infertility can feel like this. We want and need to get information to help ourselves, but there is so much out there is can feel overwhelming. This is also true when you are talking to different doctors about different protocols, or different medications.  We are left always wondering how would things be different if...

This morning I woke up before 7:30am and the first thing I did was roll over and start looking up different recommended vitamins with different forms of folic acid. I was trying to compare prices and figure out what other ingredients are in the different supplements so that I don't overdo something like iron, and then I stopped. My eyes were bugging out and it wasn't yet 8am! I can't have another day like yesterday. I reminded myself that we in the Western world are vitamin obsessed! People in Africa aren't taking prenatals and specific formulas of folate, and they have babies just fine! 

Sometimes I have to step away from the vehicle. It's just too much.  One more day without methylfolate isn't going to kill me or make or break the next cycle (is it???).  No.  It's not. I'm going to give myself the week to figure out one thing at a time. I'm going to pick one doctor to take the lead, and follow their advice. I'm going to remind myself that I am doing the best I can and that people on crack get pregnant!

DO count your eggs!

I just finished reading a book that recently came out called It Starts With The Egg by Rebecca Fett. It's all about egg quality and the various things, from environmental toxins to vitamins/supplements to diet, that can impact egg quality. The book draws from 500 scientific studies and gives the reader an understanding of the science of a developing egg, as well as an analysis of what the current research shows. The author has a background in molecular biology and biochemistry, and when she was diagnosed with diminished ovarian reserve (DOR), she set out to research what she could do to increase her chances of success.  The end result was that after making changes to her diet and lifestyle and adding specific supplements, she went from having just a few follicles in her ovaries to having about 20. On the day of her retrieval, the doctor harvested 22 eggs, out of which 19 became good-quality blastocysts. This hardly sounds like the outcome of someone with DOR.

Reading this book both freaked me out and made me feel more informed. I was freaked out by how many toxins we are all exposed to, and how unregulated a lot of it seems. Yes. Keep away from BPA and plastic tupperware, but scented lotions and nail polish and receipts? AHHH! Though we can't avoid all things toxic, becoming more aware can help us make the better choices. We are all looking for more ways to feel like we have some control over our situation, right? Perhaps making specific changes and taking certain supplements (CoQ10 anyone?) can help. It certainly can't hurt.

Though I don't believe there is a prescription for getting pregnant or having a successful IVF cycle, I do believe being healthy and cautious about what we put in, on, and around our bodies is important. I also believe that different bodies require different levels of intensity when it comes to this stuff. I do my best to stay away from empty carbs, processed foods, caffeine and alcohol, and I eat lots of veggies and take herbs and vitamins. I've done a lot of this stuff (much of what is outlined in this book) for over two years now and haven't seen much improvement in my ovarian reserve. But other people, like the author of the book, do have significant improvement! And there is evidence that supports it. This book gives a lot of great information and specific action steps for anyone interested in improving egg quality. 

Every body is different, and what works for one person may not work for another. Sixteen-year-olds get pregnant on a steady diet of hot cheetos and diet Coke! We can't make ourselves too nuts about everything, but we can do whatever is within our power to give ourselves the best chance. Then we can at least know we did everything we could. 

Becoming a better you

Svadhyaya is a word in Sanskrit that translates to self-study or self-exploration. It is part of the Eight Limbs of Yoga, which act as kind of a moral, ethical and physical prescription for living a meaningful life. That's the Cliffs-notes version. Svadhyaya is one of the Niyamas, which means observances, and it's also the name I gave to one of the embryos I transferred last year.

I was doing a lot of yoga around the time I was going through IVF with my sister as an egg donor, so it just seemed right to give my little embryos Sanskrit names. We transferred three embryos,  Svadhyaya (self-study), Santosha (contentment), and Ishvara Pranidhana (surrender). But none of them made it. All I had left were these hard to pronounce words and their meanings, which were nearly impossible to live by at that moment. (Contentment? Yeah right.)

It's been almost six months since that IVF cycle, so I have some space to reflect now. Last night I was reading a book, by a fabulous therapist in New York, Helen Adrienne, who specializes in infertility counseling, mind-body work, and hypnotherapy. (If you live in NY you should check her out, she also does mind-body stress reduction groups for infertility). Anyway, I was reading a chapter in her book On Fertile Ground and came across this passage:

"...Since the unmet longing for a child upsets the psychological balance of who we are, personality traits become exaggerated as we scramble to cope with the uncertainty of infertility. At the same time that infertility disrupts the status quo, there is an opportunity to get a grip on how to be a better you."

This resonated with me. My personality (the good, bad, and the ugly) has ABSOLUTELY been exaggerated since I took up residency on IF Island. Feelings in general often get super-sized. But with all the intensity that comes with living with infertility, also comes this opportunity to get to know ourselves. It's an opportunity to learn to sit with what is, as it is, and to examine how we think and how we make sense of a situation that often makes no sense. It's an opportunity to become more patient and more loving towards ourselves and others. It's an opportunity to learn ways to cope with challenges that are out of our control. It's a true opportunity for Svadhyaya, which will make us better people, better significant others, better children, better siblings, and eventually better parents. 

None of us on IF Island asked for these "opportunities," and many of us would much rather have some other "opportunities." But being in this for as long as I have, I can see how my experience thus far has changed me--in many ways for the better.

Part of my self-study was recognizing how much fear I had. Fear that each new procedure wouldn't work, fear that we would lose tens of thousands of dollars, fear that the process was going to be painful. All those things happened, and I'm still standing. So I'm not afraid anymore. I don't fear that I'll never be a mother, because I will. I just don't yet know exactly how or when. 

There will be different (hopefully more exciting) "opportunities" for all of us in the future. But for now, we can try to explore the ones we have right in front of us. Chances are they will help us become better in some way.

Know Your Triggers

There is so much that can trigger an emotional breakdown on IF Island. There are obvious triggers: another baby announcement, listening to a prego complain, or even the sight of a stroller. And there are not so obvious triggers: a certain song, the "lucky" socks you wore the day of your embryo transfer that turned out to be not so lucky, or a gray day. Sometimes little or unexpected things can throw you into a tizzy when you least expect it.

And it sucks. 

I've been doing really well lately. With an embryo donation on the horizon and a determination to keep trying the old fashioned way, I've been able to be hopeful yet realistic. But sometimes something will happen that sends me into a downward spiral and brings out all the frustration and resentment that has accumulated over the past few years. Sometimes I don't even realize I've been triggered until I'm in tears and spewing nonsense to Noah, or laying in bed agonizing over all my fears about the next process. 

This week I identified that one of my triggers is when someone says, "how exciting!" when they learn about the next step of our process.  I know there is love and support and well intention behind that statement, but it makes me want to gouge my own eyes out and scream, "EXCITING?! There is nothing about ANY of this that is exciting!!! Waiting another several months, then going on an insane drug that gives me migraines and makes my brain and my reproductive system shut down so that we can spend another $10k and fly to another state to have some couple's left over embryo jammed into my uterus for a chance at making a baby is not exciting!" But I don't. I nod and smile and realize that I am hyper-sensitive to language and I try to let it go. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. But being aware that this phrase is one of my triggers helps to deactivate its potency.  If I know a button is getting pressed, my rational self is more likely to be able to intervene with my emotional self to keep the situation under control.

Sometimes triggers can be totally unrelated to infertility. Sometimes when you're just coming off of a disappointing cycle and the left over hormones are brewing a nasty stew in your blood and you're exhausted and fed up and confused and sad and angry and broke, something small, like spilling beet juice on a fresh white T-shirt or something super annoying, like waking up to a completely broken refrigerator, (yeah, both those things happened to me this week) can set of an emotional explosion. (I did keep my cool but it was SUPER annoying!) Because many of us are operating from a more intense baseline of stress and anxiety, we may be more susceptible to being thrown off balance. For many of us on IF Island, it's as if there are little fuses wedged into the healing cracks of our broken hearts that can easily ignite and set off a major bomb if we are triggered.

That's why it's so important to take good care of ourselves and to be patient and kind and loving towards ourselves. It's important to be aware of what sets us off, and to try to get a little space to be able to respond rather than react. To be able to remind ourselves that people mean well, they just don't get it, and that we're okay. It's totally normal to be carrying around remnants of our past hurt. And it's normal that the hurt will bubble up from time to time. But if we can make conscious decisions in how we deal with it, if we can start to feel the physical sensation of our blood begin to boil and then tell ourselves a hundred times over that we will be parents one day, then maybe, just maybe we can avert a catastrophe. Maybe we can focus our energy elsewhere for a moment. Or maybe we just need to cry it out, and that's okay too. The intensity of feelings will pass and we will regain our strength, and we will forever be more empathic towards others, and perhaps that's a good thing. 

Hoping everyone has a trigger-free weekend full of fun and peaceful things.

We are Not Alone

I just read This LA TIMES online article about how more than 1.5% of babies born in the U.S. in 2012 were conceived in a lab. The article states, "The 379 fertility clinics that are members of SART performed a total of 165,172 procedures in 2012, resulting in the births of 61,740 babies." 

That's a lot of babies! And that is only what is being reported. That doesn't include all the people out there going through infertility who maybe get an IUI with their gyno or who decide on adoption or living child-free.

A few things stood out to me: 

1) The number of procedures done is MUCH HIGHER than the number of live births (over 100,000 higher). What that says to me is heartbreak and disappointment 100,000 times over.

2) ART does work for many people, and it is not abnormal to use the science we have to make a baby.

3) WE ARE NOT ALONE!

There are so many people who are struggling to make a family. While that doesn't make it better for any of us, it is a reminder that there is nothing we did wrong. We are not being punished. We are not any less worthy of being parents. It is just harder for some than others. There are medical conditions that negatively impact fertility, especially diagnoses like mine of diminished ovarian reserve. And there is technology that can hopefully help. And if not, there are other ways to become parents.

We are all living out a slightly different version of the same story, and regardless of what works in the end, the emotional experience is very similar. We can relate to each other's sadness and frustration. We know the disappointment of a BFN or the moment Aunt Flow comes back to town, yet again. We know the very specific feeling of having to grieve the loss of something that could have been but never was. And we know how to pick ourselves off the floor, get grounded, and stand tall again, ready to face the next hurdle head on, with grace and dignity and determination. We know we need to appreciate all that we do have in our lives, and we know we can never NEVER feel ashamed to be hopeful.

So why does it feel so lonely on IF Island?

The last statistic I read was 7.3 million people in the U.S. end up on IF Island, yet a common theme is isolation. I feel it. I get it. I've done what I can to build a little community here and have a few new friends to talk to, but wanting something so badly and not being able to get it some how can make a person feel totally alone. Maybe it's the sense of longing that creates a distance between us and the world. Maybe it's feeling misunderstood. Maybe it's the gap that's created when someone says "just relax," or "stop trying so hard and it will  happen,"  or "why don't you just adopt?" It may take all our efforts not to punch people in the face at these moments, but we need to find ways to just let those comments go and immediately find others who do understand us. 

There are many places to find support and connection. One site I recently came across is Fertility Authority, which is a great hub of all things infertility. There's Stirrup-Queens, which has lots of good info, as well as a pretty comprehensive list of blogs broken down by category. And then there is the upcoming Fertility Planit conference in LA (at UCLA in April,  use promo code FPVIP for 20% off admission) where leading experts in the field of fertility will be speaking, and tons of fertility related information will be presented. I'll be there on a panel with Baby Quest Foundation.

For many of us, the online community has been really helpful, and a really safe place to share feelings and learn. I wish there were more in person ways we can feel connected. One thing I've done that has helped is to do my best to connect to myself, my body, and my thoughts. Through yoga and through slowing down and really trying to understand my own fears and worries, I've gained insight into how I deal with disappointment. It's helping me learn better ways to sit with painful emotions so I can better handle the unfairness of life. I've also tried to work harder at connecting to those I love--my family, my sister, my husband. Strengthening the connections we do have can only help. 

Hope everyone out there can find a way to stay connected and feel understood. And sending a reminder that we are definitely not alone!

Hubs guest post: Always Keep a Diamond in Your Mind

There is a Tom Waits song I really like. As with most Tom Waits songs, the lyrics are from another realm and are often useless to try to decipher. In that voice that is straight out of my childhood nightmares, I hear, "always keep a diamond in your mind / wherever you may wander, wherever you may roam / always keep a diamond in your mind." Since we did our embryo transfer (click here in case you need a refresher video), that line has been stuck in my head. The chance to have a baby, while risking multiples, has been the diamond in my mind, the beautiful goal. I've believed. I've been positive. I've hoped and prayed to any and all that will listen. This morning I arrived at work feeling confident that I'd get a call from a tearful wife saying that we were officially pregnant and one step closer to our family. Instead I got a call from a tearful wife. "It didn't work," was all she had to say.

For the rest of the day I was numb. Numb the way you feel after there's been a major catasptrophe or a death in the family. The volume was turned down on the rest of my day, replaced with nothing. I was numb while trying to do creative for a television show. I was numb in Los Angeles traffic. I was numb when I embraced Maya. I was numb during our drive back home, the only sound in the car coming from my sobbing wife; crying like she was trying to run out of tears. Two blocks from home, stopped at a light, I noticed a sticker on the car in front of me. "No Bad Days." Temporarily, numb was replaced with rage. Then back to numb.

For those of you that know me - if only through this - I am not the most emotional person. But today was different. Today I feel broken and I know I can't do that right now. One of my best friends from home told me today, "take care of yourself so you can take care of Maya." I'll process this later, I just want her to feel better now. Or at least not feel worse.

If there is a positive to be taken from this, it is that both Maya and I are becoming more comfortable talking about this process. We've had family and friends who have been critical of Maya opening up on a forum like this, but I know it has helped her. And whatever helps, is fine with me. And with this communication comes messages and tweets and texts and hugs. We sat in bed tonight marveling at how perfect strangers from around the world have been thinking of Maya today, praying for her, wishing her well. It made me cry. And my tears are normally only reserved for World Series victories. 

So thank you to every reader and every comment on here. And thank you for thinking of my wife. She needs it. I hope we'll have good news to share in the future. And, if you've got the time, I recommend picking up that Tom Waits song.

 

The New L Word: Love

The other day I went to see a woman who does reiki. What would I call her, a reiki-ist? An energy healer? Not sure. I wasn't even sure what reiki was when I walked into Karen's space in the back of a hair salon in Los Felize http://www.reconnect2wellness.net/ but what I do know is that I walked in frazzled and angry that I'd just waited an hour to try to get blood tests done at Kaiser without success, and that I walked out of there feeling calm and grounded. 

Karen works with a person's energy and uses crystals and oils to help bring balance to the whole being. It sounds like some crazy hippie stuff but it was actually a really nice experience, and she was a very sane and caring person. She started by telling me my energy seemed almost off my body, like floating above my body, which perhaps makes sense right now. My relationship with my body has been strained lately and perhaps I'm trying to energetically escape all that's being done to my body. As she placed crystals on my belly and used her breath and hands to move my energy around, she talked about being kinder to myself. She talked about the importance of letting go of the feeling that I've disappointed people, specifically men, in my life. She talked about reminding myself daily that I am loved and supported and safe.

I think I've done a good job of rationalizing and coming to terms with what we've had to endure so far and the sacrifices we will have to make in order to create our family. But I also feel like there is guilt and sadness and fear and frustration that still lingers in my heart and my body. Karen stressed that the messages I tell myself are important to pay attention to. She talked about the need for affirmations and being truly loving and accepting to myself and about finding ways to redefine our current experience and my definition of motherhood. 

I'm not broken. I didn't drag my poor husband into this awful situation. I'm not disappointing my parents by not giving them grandchildren. I'm just dealing with the challenges of my life the best I can. I'm grateful for all my friends and family who have been able to support and love me through all this. I'm going to try and reframe my negative thoughts so that when I'm all worked up and in a Lupron induced rage, I will remind myself that I am loved and that I have a lot of love to give. 

Finding My Mantra

This past weekend, my yoga teacher training focused on prenatal yoga. I knew I'd have some feelings as I did modified sun salutations to accommodate my imagined pregnant belly.  The teacher kept saying, "Inhale arms up, exhale hands to baby," and all of us in the class would close our eyes and place our hands on our stomachs.  My saving grace was glancing over at the one guy in the training who was very comfortably and attentively bringing his hands to his "baby."

Three months ago this would have wrecked me. There is so much in the world that triggers an infertile woman, it's hard to simply leave the house sometimes without some reminder, something upsetting, some lame comment from a person who just doesn't get what we're going through. The thought of spending an entire day in a prenatal yoga training pretending to be pregnant would have been something I would have called in sick for. There were times I needed to protect myself and my feelings more, and that's ok. But this weekend, my eyes teared up a bit at moments, and I moved through it, reminding myself that I'm ok.

"I'm ok. I'm ok." That was my mantra. Not trying to convince myself of something that wasn't true, but something to remind myself and soothe my mind from allowing the phrase "hands to baby" spin me out into some crazy place of fear and panic and pity. "I'm ok." The feelings came up but I didn't try and define them, they were tears. They were sad. They were a little hopeful maybe. I don't know. "I'm ok."

My mantra has changed many times over the course of this process. Sometimes  feel like I have retired a specific mantra, like "I hate pregnant people," and sometimes I shelf it and come back to it, like "the baby that's meant to be my baby will be."

Finding a catch phrase as a reminder to breath and focus on what's in front of you can be really helpful and self-supportive. I'm ok. It's going to be ok. 

Three recommendations for anyone going through infertility

I've felt a serious shift in the last few weeks, or specifically the weeks following that adoption meeting. It's like I suddenly know everything is going to be alright. Noah says it to me all the time, and while I've always kind of believed him, I now know it to be true. Babies exist. And I can get one. The end. I would highly recommend to anyone going through infertility to go to different adoption agencies in your area just to check them out. Even if you're not ready for it, even if you're not there yet. If adopting is an option for you then it doesn't hurt to check out. I wish I would have done this years ago just to have a sense of calm that even if my body completely fails me I can still have a family.

The other thing I would highly recommend if the expense of infertility is a struggle, is to look into and apply for grants. I did this several months ago and we just found out we are recipients of a grant from Baby Quest Foundation http://www.babyquestfoundation.org  that will help cover some of the cost of our next IVF procedure. Baby Quest Foundation is founded by an amazing mother-daughter duo who really want to help lessen the financial burden of family building and allow people who normally could not do so to access treatments. Finding out that we have some financial support from Baby Quest has been such a sigh of relief for us. A few other foundations that award grants I have recently learned about are:  http://mavericksmiraclebabies.org and http://www.parenthoodforme.org

The third thing I would recommend is to find something else, preferably physical, to immerse yourself in. Infertilty is all consuming and it really impacts your mind, body, and spirit. My relationship with my body has been not good for the past year. I've been angry at it for not working right, and now it is angry at me for jamming hormones into it and feeding it junk food. I decided to sign up for a yoga teacher training with one of my favorite teachers Ally Hamilton, founder of Yogis Anonymous in Santa Monica http://yogisanonymous.com.  After my first three days of training I feel better than I have in the past year. More on yoga in the coming weeks.

There are tons of other self care tools and things to do to distract yourself or make yourself laugh, but these three things I realized have really REALLY helped me survive this rough time. 

IVF BOOTCAMP (WITH GILLI, THE INCREDIBLE ACUPUNCTURIST)

Dr. N sent me to Gilli for 2-3 months before we were to attempt an IVF cycle.  I don’t know if it was because he could see I was completely freaked out that in the time span of two months we’d gone from “don’t worry, let’s just do some little tests” to “welcome to the world of IVF,” or if he had confidence that Gilli would whip me into mental, physical and emotional shape.

Gilli is an Israeli acupuncture doctor and herbalist who specializes in fertility and women’s health issues. I had seen several acupuncturists before her, but none of them remotely compared. Gilli is a thin, curly-haired mother of three (boys!) with a calming presence and a direct approach. She tells it like it is and doesn’t really see the point in complaining.

Noah and I arrived at her office bright and early on a Monday morning.  She gave me all kinds of forms to fill out, checked my tongue and my pulse and diagnosed me with a variety of imbalances including a kidney yang deficiency, a cold uterus, and some blood flow blockage. In Chinese medicine, the kidney system is connected to the reproductive system and it is affected by anxiety and stress. The remedy was to eat only warm foods (no salads, sushi or frozen yogurt), cut out sugar, caffeine, dairy, refined carbs and anything else delicious. And to drink Gilli’s special fertility tea three times a day, which tasted like there should be an earthworm at the bottom of each cup. And to take specific vitamins including coenzyme Q10, fish oil, vitamin C, and a prenatal. And to rub a burning incense stick that contained an herb called moxa over my lower tummy for twenty minutes a day. I was prescribed a meditation CD and instructions to chill out. 

Taking care of my imbalanced kidneys and cold uterus became a full time job, and eventually a total obsession.  I channeled all my energies into being well, which was perhaps better than Googling “common causes of cancelled IVF rounds.” But being obsessed still meant being unbalanced. Being resentful that I had to do all these things still meant I had not fully accepted that this is our path. Being doubtful still meant I didn’t believe this all was going to work. 

But how could I completely believe? Having six follicles essentially meant by the time they take them all out and see which ones are of decent size, maybe there are four to work with. Then your mix those four with sperm and maybe two or three take. Then you wait until they start splitting and are lucky to get one Junior Mint to put back in.  All that effort, the hormone shots, the thousands of dollars for being lucky to get one? Yeah. I had doubt, resentment, and fear. 

Gilli agreed that six follicles was not a good number.  

“We want to go ten-seven-three,” she said, while putting needles in my stomach and hooking the few over my ovaries to what looked like a small car battery to provide electro-stimulation.

“Ten-seven-three? OK.” That sounded better than six-three-one. 

Gilli seemed confident.  That’s why I was there. To stimulate my ovaries and get more follicles. So I would do my part and she would do hers. If she told me to eat rat poop I probably would have done it. At that point, I needed a team of believers and doers. 

The first week with Gilli went great! My mom and my aunt Mari came over to cook all kinds of Japanese veggies—kabotcha (pumpkin), seaweed, burdock roots and carrots—it was delish and I felt healthy. I ate whole organic cooked food only and only had a mild sugar/caffeine withdrawl headache. 

Week two was fine. I stopped craving sweets and ate lots of farmer’s market veggies. The tea was more bearable and I committed to reading a book called “Way of the Fertile Soul” without cynicism. I spent half my days cooking and taking yoga class and felt grateful that I had this time to focus on myself. I lost a few pounds and was sleeping better.

By week three I lost it. I was so bored with my diet, so angry that I had to do this, so fed up with the meditation CD.  PEOPLE ON CRACK GET PREGNANT! This seemed insane.  I was deprived and obsessive and so resentful that this is how I spent my days, cooking azuki beans and brussel sprouts. I wanted to contribute to the world in a more meaningful way. I wanted to feel like it was okay to go out to dinner with other people without being one of those, “is there cheese on that?” people.  I wanted a fucking cupcake! 

Luckily we were headed North to Seattle for the weekend for my brother-in-laws wedding where there were ample cupcakes, of which I had my fair share. It felt so freeing to splurge on scones and, dare I admit, a cup of coffee! The caffeinated kind! Four days of non-restricted eating was the most thrilling thing to happen to me for months. But when I got home, Gilli knew.

She read my pulse, hesitated, and looked me in the eye.

“What?” I asked. “Can you…tell something?”

She exhaled loudly and said, “Your pulse is faint. You haven’t been eating quality food.”

How did she know!! Are a half a dozen cupcakes standing in the way between me and my Petri-dish baby? I guess I have to get back on the wagon, just for a little while.