Our meeting with the new RE on the 20th was our first baby step towards the process of once again trying for a child. I like the doc already.
The facility is about an hour away (slightly closer than the former place) and luckily our 10:30 appointment was far enough removed from the rush hour traffic that the trip was fairly smooth. When we got there I paid our $25 co-pay, which was a weird feeling considering we've never had any sort of infertility coverage before. We got off light!
I then rushed to fill out the paperwork that I filled out about a year ago, but was obviously tossed away after we failed to make a new appointment with them last fall. Dr. H came out and welcomed us to his office, and once we sat down he started asking Mike questions while I finished filling out the forms. Since he had no medical records for me (again, probably discarded months ago) we had to do our best to explain our situation and give him as much information as possible. I gave him several photocopies of the few records I had (Mike's semen analysis from 2004 which showed zero sperm count) and a report of an internal exam I had from my previous IVF cycle.
He is a very nice man -- professional and knowledgeable. He made us feel comfortable and answered all of our questions. Using the limited information he had, he told us what he thought, and thankfully he didn't crush any of our hopes. When I asked him about my concerns about being 35, he didn't seem worried. He said between the ages of 35 and 37, the quality of fertility in a generally healthy woman isn't much different from that of a woman in her early 30s. That certainly eased my mind a bit. In fact, he said that if my exams show me to be healthy and problem-free, I'd just be like an older egg donor. That's a perspective I'd never heard before. Like our other clinic, they only transfer two embryos as most, and we talked a little about the one frozen embryo we have.
We talked a little bit about our insurance issue, and he said although he's not "an insurance guy" he brought up a few strategies we could explore. He wants me to call the office when I get my next period so they can schedule bloodwork, an ultrasound and an HSG. We found out those test results are good for one year, so we agreed that getting the testing done now will allow us to hit the ground running when we finally are ready to cycle again. Dr. H also gave me the name of a company called Counsyl, which does genetic testing. He said to contact them and get a test kit to test for a variety of genetic issues, including cystic fibrosis. (I actually already received and sent back the kit with my saliva sample.) That will just give us another set of things to "cross off the list" and I'm grateful for his thoroughness.
I really wish Dr. H had my medical records in front of him so we could have gotten a more customized analysis, but I'm still glad we went. I'm actually looking forward to next month's testing, just so I feel like I'm back in the game.
Now for the audience participation segment: Can anyone share experiences about the HSG? I've read various things about it, from being a mildly uncomfortable experience to being torture. Feedback?
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Monday Is the Day
We will be meeting with a new RE on Monday morning. This is the appointment we had to cancel last November when we learned of Mike's cancer recurrence.
No plans for a cycle are imminent, but we want to at least see what he thinks about what we've done so far, and where he thinks we should go from here.
I also found out today that they don't have my medical records on file. Last fall, I requested that my current clinic send all my records to the new place. When the new place called me today to confirm our appointment, it dawned on me to double-check that they had our records: they don't. I don't know if they never got them in the first place, or if they simply got rid of them after so many months passed without us coming in for an appointment. So now we have a consultation without the benefit of the doctor reviewing our history. The girl at the new place said it would be OK, and to meet with the doctor anyway.
Wish us luck....
No plans for a cycle are imminent, but we want to at least see what he thinks about what we've done so far, and where he thinks we should go from here.
I also found out today that they don't have my medical records on file. Last fall, I requested that my current clinic send all my records to the new place. When the new place called me today to confirm our appointment, it dawned on me to double-check that they had our records: they don't. I don't know if they never got them in the first place, or if they simply got rid of them after so many months passed without us coming in for an appointment. So now we have a consultation without the benefit of the doctor reviewing our history. The girl at the new place said it would be OK, and to meet with the doctor anyway.
Wish us luck....
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Trying to Make Them ‘Great’
I’m about to write a post that has been on my mind for a long time. It’s something I think about every single day, and sometimes it almost feels like an obsession.
I want to be a mother for all the right reasons. The longing is in me. I want to give my husband a child. I want to see life beyond my own. Aside from all those things that I feel are a given, there is another part of having children that tugs at my heart all the time:
I want to give my grandparents their first great-grandchild.
At 35 years old, I know how blessed I am to still have my two maternal grandparents. My nana is 88 and my grandpa is 90. Though they’ve each had their minor health issues and aches and pains, they’re in relatively good health for their ages. But I’ve seen them slow down; I’ve seen everyday tasks get more and more difficult. I’ve seen them fall into the typical routines of seniors – doctor visits, trips to the supermarket, sitting in front of the television, and not much else. And now that I live out of state, I only get to see them every couple months or so.
I am their first grandchild. My brother and my cousin round out the family giving them three grandchildren. I’m extremely close with my nana and grandpa, and the thought of not having them in my life terrifies me. I like to think that I will get to have them around for a number of years to come, but I know I won’t have them forever (not on this side of heaven, anyway). One of my biggest fears is that they will not live to see the next generation.
My grandparents know our story. They are aware that we need the aid of fertility treatments if we have any chance of having our own biological children. They desperately want our dreams to be realized, and I know how much they want to be great-grandparents, though they almost never bring it up and have put no pressure on us. When we made our first IVF attempt in 2007, our pregnancy test results came in on my grandparents’ wedding anniversary. I was hoping the timing of that was some kind of sign, but a positive result was not to be. My mom said they were so upset and disappointed for us when she told them the results. They even shed a few tears. In the few years since, they have generously offered to help us financially with our future attempts. They say “it’s just money” and only want to help us realize our dream. This past spring, when my mom was visiting them, my grandpa brought up the IVF out of the blue. He told my mom again that they wanted to give us the money for treatments. My mom explained to him that IVF was on hold while Mike was still recovering from everything and while we waited for his health to stabilize. He told her that when we were ready, they were there to help. But money isn’t the only problem. It’s the uncertainty of our future that keeps us from moving forward.
Nana and Grandpa are two of the most generous people I know. I could never re-pay them for all they’ve given me over the years – financially and otherwise. For all they’ve given me, I just want to give them the one gift that would make our family complete. To look at the two of them cradling our son or daughter would bring joy beyond words. But I’m afraid. I’m afraid this will never happen. I have in my mind a picture of our little one running around their house, the house I ran around when I was a small child. I picture my grandpa telling our child jokes, the same jokes he would tell me when I was a little girl. I picture Nana giving our baby a bath in the sink, just as she did with me when my mom, a nervous new mother, was afraid to bathe me for the first time. I can hear the giggles and laughing, the beautiful noise that only a child can contribute to a household. I imagine the joy a great-grandchild would bring to their twilight years, maybe even enough joy to extend their lives a bit longer. But with each day that passes, with each year older I become, I see that dream slipping away. I want to swipe at it and grab it before it flies away, but I don’t know how to. We have this wall in front of us and can’t break through. And meanwhile, with every day, week, month, and year that passes, it’s one less potential moment our children have with my grandparents. Not only do I want them to live to see our children, but I want them to be well enough to enjoy them, too. I wish I could freeze time.
What I wouldn’t give to show up at my grandparents’ house one day to give them the news of our pregnancy. I’ve imagined what I would say and how we would tell them. I dream of how they would react and the excitement that news would bring. I can see my nana making baby outfits on her sewing machine, or coming with us to pick out the nursery furniture they’ve offered to buy us. I even thought of sending them pregnancy updates in the mail, with ultrasound pictures and notes from the baby. I have all these hopes and dreams, all these ideas of what things could be like. Will these things forever remain just a dream?
Dear Lord,
You and I have had a contentious relationship lately. I am angry with you. I am angry that the dreams of my life seem so out of reach and that you haven’t made them a reality. In the Bible you have given barren women children. You have filled them wombs and filled their voids. Why haven’t you done the same for me? Aren’t you the same today as you were yesterday? You know my dreams, and you know my fears. Maybe I don’t deserve it, but I will ask anyway: Will you fill the void in my life, and bless us with a child? Will you keep my grandparents safe and healthy while you knit a life inside me? Will you allow them to stay here on this earth so they can see a new generation, and hold him or her in their arms?
Please hear my prayer, and answer….
Amen.
I want to be a mother for all the right reasons. The longing is in me. I want to give my husband a child. I want to see life beyond my own. Aside from all those things that I feel are a given, there is another part of having children that tugs at my heart all the time:
I want to give my grandparents their first great-grandchild.
At 35 years old, I know how blessed I am to still have my two maternal grandparents. My nana is 88 and my grandpa is 90. Though they’ve each had their minor health issues and aches and pains, they’re in relatively good health for their ages. But I’ve seen them slow down; I’ve seen everyday tasks get more and more difficult. I’ve seen them fall into the typical routines of seniors – doctor visits, trips to the supermarket, sitting in front of the television, and not much else. And now that I live out of state, I only get to see them every couple months or so.
I am their first grandchild. My brother and my cousin round out the family giving them three grandchildren. I’m extremely close with my nana and grandpa, and the thought of not having them in my life terrifies me. I like to think that I will get to have them around for a number of years to come, but I know I won’t have them forever (not on this side of heaven, anyway). One of my biggest fears is that they will not live to see the next generation.
My grandparents know our story. They are aware that we need the aid of fertility treatments if we have any chance of having our own biological children. They desperately want our dreams to be realized, and I know how much they want to be great-grandparents, though they almost never bring it up and have put no pressure on us. When we made our first IVF attempt in 2007, our pregnancy test results came in on my grandparents’ wedding anniversary. I was hoping the timing of that was some kind of sign, but a positive result was not to be. My mom said they were so upset and disappointed for us when she told them the results. They even shed a few tears. In the few years since, they have generously offered to help us financially with our future attempts. They say “it’s just money” and only want to help us realize our dream. This past spring, when my mom was visiting them, my grandpa brought up the IVF out of the blue. He told my mom again that they wanted to give us the money for treatments. My mom explained to him that IVF was on hold while Mike was still recovering from everything and while we waited for his health to stabilize. He told her that when we were ready, they were there to help. But money isn’t the only problem. It’s the uncertainty of our future that keeps us from moving forward.
Nana and Grandpa are two of the most generous people I know. I could never re-pay them for all they’ve given me over the years – financially and otherwise. For all they’ve given me, I just want to give them the one gift that would make our family complete. To look at the two of them cradling our son or daughter would bring joy beyond words. But I’m afraid. I’m afraid this will never happen. I have in my mind a picture of our little one running around their house, the house I ran around when I was a small child. I picture my grandpa telling our child jokes, the same jokes he would tell me when I was a little girl. I picture Nana giving our baby a bath in the sink, just as she did with me when my mom, a nervous new mother, was afraid to bathe me for the first time. I can hear the giggles and laughing, the beautiful noise that only a child can contribute to a household. I imagine the joy a great-grandchild would bring to their twilight years, maybe even enough joy to extend their lives a bit longer. But with each day that passes, with each year older I become, I see that dream slipping away. I want to swipe at it and grab it before it flies away, but I don’t know how to. We have this wall in front of us and can’t break through. And meanwhile, with every day, week, month, and year that passes, it’s one less potential moment our children have with my grandparents. Not only do I want them to live to see our children, but I want them to be well enough to enjoy them, too. I wish I could freeze time.
What I wouldn’t give to show up at my grandparents’ house one day to give them the news of our pregnancy. I’ve imagined what I would say and how we would tell them. I dream of how they would react and the excitement that news would bring. I can see my nana making baby outfits on her sewing machine, or coming with us to pick out the nursery furniture they’ve offered to buy us. I even thought of sending them pregnancy updates in the mail, with ultrasound pictures and notes from the baby. I have all these hopes and dreams, all these ideas of what things could be like. Will these things forever remain just a dream?
Dear Lord,
You and I have had a contentious relationship lately. I am angry with you. I am angry that the dreams of my life seem so out of reach and that you haven’t made them a reality. In the Bible you have given barren women children. You have filled them wombs and filled their voids. Why haven’t you done the same for me? Aren’t you the same today as you were yesterday? You know my dreams, and you know my fears. Maybe I don’t deserve it, but I will ask anyway: Will you fill the void in my life, and bless us with a child? Will you keep my grandparents safe and healthy while you knit a life inside me? Will you allow them to stay here on this earth so they can see a new generation, and hold him or her in their arms?
Please hear my prayer, and answer….
Amen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)