This month was supposed to be an IUI month. But I went in for my blood work on Monday and my estrodial level was high, but they said that they would wait to see if that meant anything when I got my ultrasound. This morning, I went in.
The good news -- the cyst from my right ovary last month is gone. The bad news -- there's an even bigger one on my left ovary. After talking to the doctor, the nurse practitioner called me this afternoon to say that they wanted to put me on birth control pills to clean out my ovaries. Another month down, without any real attempt. She mentioned things like ovarian failure and egg donor. I'm trying not to think about that, because I can't afford to do anything beyond IUI until the insurance kicks in. And that won't happen until after six failed attempts. Not six months, byt six failed attempts. So these past five months only count as two.
I picked up the BCP at Wegmans tonight and almost cried to the pharmacist when he asked me about the pills, if I was familiar with them. When I explained that I was only going on them for a month, he said, "oh you're trying out this kind to make sure you have no side effects."
"No, I'm trying to get pregnant and I have cysts, so I'm hoping the estrogen will clean out my ovaries." Bite lip.
"Oh, so you're using them for hormone therapy." Yes, that would have been another way to put it.
I skipped the gym, came home and laid on my couch, crying, while I watched Days of Our Lives from today. I couldn't really tell you what happened. It was sort of background noise.
My body is failing me -- again. And there is really nothing more I can do. I eat well, I exercise, I drink rarely (and when I do, it's moderately), I don't smoke (never have), don't do drugs (a couple of joints in college) -- and still.....my body is not only failing me, it's betraying me.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Sake and Herbs
I realized tonight as I started reading "Knock Yourself Up: A Tell-All Guide to Becoming a Single Mom," that I haven't really written in much detail about the process I've been going through in trying to get pregnant. And while I promise to not be too graphic, I think this is something I'm going to want to remember.
I received a list of nationally accredited sperm banks from my doctor's office way back in June when I had my first appointment. The appointment consisted of your general pelvic exam and then bloodwork on very specific days of my cycle, to measure my FSH level (to know if I had good eggs left), and my estrodial and progesterone levels (to know if every other part of my cycle would work).
After requesting literature from each place and looking at their website, I waited for the official literature. I had it narrowed down to two places -- one in San Francisco and one near Boston -- mostly because they had experience in working with single women. It wasn't just an infertility issue, but they seemed to be sensitive to the other clients they could serve.
I hate to say it came down to money, but part of my final decision came down to money. New England was a little cheaper, and I also reasoned that being on the East coast could prevent potential shipping issues. Now that I had my umbrella supplier, I needed to find my main supplier, my baby daddy.
What was I looking for? And how superficial is this whole process? Honestly, I just want someone healthy, I just want a baby. But I have to choose, and I get to choose, so why not put thought into this?
And so, for no reason other than it is appealing to me, I chose blond hair, blue eyes, and ethnicity similar or near mine (Scottish, Irish, German, French). And from there, it was about their chosen professions and their personality traits that would appeal to me if this person were in front of me. Ultimately I chose a music student at Berklee, an avid runner and reader.
I've had two tries with him. In August, I went to work in the morning and left early for the appointment. Again, like a pelvic exam, except a little more intrusive to get the cervix open -- and a long thin tube, hooked up to the thawed sperm. After I was "squirted" as my nurse practitioner referred to it, I laid on the table, flat, for 30 minutes. I read a magazine and held onto my good luck charm.
I was absolutely convinced that I would get pregnant. 100%, there was no chance that this wouldn't work. Ten million sperm, six egg follicles. But guess what? It didn't.
September's ultrasound showed that I had some residual cysts from all the follicles, so I rested. October gave me another chance. This time, I'd been getting acupuncture treatments and I took the day off. I rested and had a friend drive me.
And when it didn't work this time, I was much more prepared. And less disappointed when the ultrasound revealed, yet again, that I had a cyst.
When I went for acupuncture yesterday, my doctor sent me home with a bottle of herbs -- different from the herbs I'm supposed to drink twice a day (not a tea drinker, I shoot for once a day) -- these herbs get mixed with Sake (rice wine), made into a paste. I put them on my stomach, over my right ovary (where the cyst is) and then cover with a heating pad for 30 minutes.
It sounds like a bit of voodoo, but if nothing else it's relaxing. And the whole mind/body thing is definitely something I believe in. So tonight, for my second night, I got home, made my sake and herb paste, and sat in my chair with the heating pad on my abdomen.
And so another daily thing that goes towards the process of getting pregnant:
* herb drink
* basal body temperature each morning
* charting my temperature and cervical mucus
* moxa stick on specific pulse points
* and now sake and herbs
Will it be worth it? Absolutely, no question about it.
I received a list of nationally accredited sperm banks from my doctor's office way back in June when I had my first appointment. The appointment consisted of your general pelvic exam and then bloodwork on very specific days of my cycle, to measure my FSH level (to know if I had good eggs left), and my estrodial and progesterone levels (to know if every other part of my cycle would work).
After requesting literature from each place and looking at their website, I waited for the official literature. I had it narrowed down to two places -- one in San Francisco and one near Boston -- mostly because they had experience in working with single women. It wasn't just an infertility issue, but they seemed to be sensitive to the other clients they could serve.
I hate to say it came down to money, but part of my final decision came down to money. New England was a little cheaper, and I also reasoned that being on the East coast could prevent potential shipping issues. Now that I had my umbrella supplier, I needed to find my main supplier, my baby daddy.
What was I looking for? And how superficial is this whole process? Honestly, I just want someone healthy, I just want a baby. But I have to choose, and I get to choose, so why not put thought into this?
And so, for no reason other than it is appealing to me, I chose blond hair, blue eyes, and ethnicity similar or near mine (Scottish, Irish, German, French). And from there, it was about their chosen professions and their personality traits that would appeal to me if this person were in front of me. Ultimately I chose a music student at Berklee, an avid runner and reader.
I've had two tries with him. In August, I went to work in the morning and left early for the appointment. Again, like a pelvic exam, except a little more intrusive to get the cervix open -- and a long thin tube, hooked up to the thawed sperm. After I was "squirted" as my nurse practitioner referred to it, I laid on the table, flat, for 30 minutes. I read a magazine and held onto my good luck charm.
I was absolutely convinced that I would get pregnant. 100%, there was no chance that this wouldn't work. Ten million sperm, six egg follicles. But guess what? It didn't.
September's ultrasound showed that I had some residual cysts from all the follicles, so I rested. October gave me another chance. This time, I'd been getting acupuncture treatments and I took the day off. I rested and had a friend drive me.
And when it didn't work this time, I was much more prepared. And less disappointed when the ultrasound revealed, yet again, that I had a cyst.
When I went for acupuncture yesterday, my doctor sent me home with a bottle of herbs -- different from the herbs I'm supposed to drink twice a day (not a tea drinker, I shoot for once a day) -- these herbs get mixed with Sake (rice wine), made into a paste. I put them on my stomach, over my right ovary (where the cyst is) and then cover with a heating pad for 30 minutes.
It sounds like a bit of voodoo, but if nothing else it's relaxing. And the whole mind/body thing is definitely something I believe in. So tonight, for my second night, I got home, made my sake and herb paste, and sat in my chair with the heating pad on my abdomen.
And so another daily thing that goes towards the process of getting pregnant:
* herb drink
* basal body temperature each morning
* charting my temperature and cervical mucus
* moxa stick on specific pulse points
* and now sake and herbs
Will it be worth it? Absolutely, no question about it.
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