Thursday, November 30, 2006


I'm not quite sure how to word this... I need you help, knowledge and expertise. Yes, people, of course I am also looking for advice. Or assivice. I will take any and everything.

Yesterday afternoon I ambled into the clinic for my u/s monitoration. After sitting with my pants off for 20 minutes in a room with a heater blasting (I guess it's kind of them to assume I will be cold with my ass flapping in the wind,) my larangitic doctor came in. The man is still not speaking! It is so weird to have a doctor feel around in my vagina, yet I cannot converse with him. But anyways.

What I love about my clinic is how I can see everything that is going on. All my charts are computersized, and no matter what room I am in (u/s, office) I can see everything either on a massive plasma TV, or computer monitors turned towards me. So as TWBD was wanding me, he was measuring and noting everthing on screen where I could see it. (This is very helpful seeing as his vocal cords are currently disfunctional.) It was really amazing to see my follicles up on the screen ion black and white! I don't think I can adequately express how much I like this. Maybe all clinics are like this, though. Do you guys all get to see what's going on like I do?

Anyhoodle. After 4 days of Fem.ara and 2 shots of 20IU Pur.egon I had 5 follicles ranging from 8mm to 11mm.

Now I have to ask: IS THIS NORMAL? (Really, who is to say what's normal? But still I expect an answer to my question.) Is this the quantity and size of foolicles I should be expecting on CD8?

I took my last Fem.ara last night, and another injection of 20IU. Tonight, just another injection at 20IU, and tomorrow: u/s.

I know that everyone is different, and we all respond differently, and have different causes of IF. It just seems to me that my Pur.egon dose is REALLY LOW. It's just 2 clicks of the pen! I also know that with my PCO we have a greater danger of OHSS. And I know that TWBD is using this cycle as a benchmark becasue I haven't done any any other monitored cycles with him. I know, I know, I know...

Tell me people... what should I be ecpecting from my ovaries at this point? WHAT? Please help.

Oh and Lut: I have also read about the archaicness of post-coital tests. Like I wrote above, I think my doctor is using this cycle as a benchmark, just to see how everything "functions". Given this, I think he wants to see how The C's sperm reacts naturally before we move on to IUI. I'm alright with this one trial, as I am interested if I have a "hostile envoronment" down there. Trust me, if it doesn't work this time around (even if we score well on the post-coital), I will insist on IUI next time 'round.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006


Get it? It's a play on the old Calgon commercial. Ok, whatever.

Last night I had my injection teaching. Can I tell you how much I love the following things: Clinic #1, The Nurse, The Receptionist, The C. There I told you. End of post.

Or not.

Many thanks to all of you who commented reassuringly on my previous post. You are right, once I actually did the shot I chilled the fuck out. Like way out. The nurse was patient and methodical and taught me well. The C accompanied me, reassured me, and praised my needle technique. On the way home he told me inumnerable times how proud he was of me for staying strong and taking this step in stride. Sometimes the dear man knows exactly what to say, and I love him for it.

Last 20IU of Pure.gon made its way into the left side of my stomach. Tonight the same will travel into the right. TWBD wants to start low and see how I respond, and use this as a base line. I asked the nurse how high it is possible to go with Pur.egon, and she told me that she has seen cases where 450-600IU were used per dose. Eeks! Now that would be one scary shot. I'm ok with what I've got, and will be ok, if after tomorrow's u/s TWBD increases the dose. When he sees some delicious follicles we will trigger, and in all likelyhood we will be sent home to fuck like bunnies, and return for a post-coital test. You know... to see how all the stuff interacts down there.

The C told me again how hopeful he is. I like his optimism, but I also know that he doesn't fall so hard when he is let down. I am a bit opposite: I try not too hope too much, and when I am let down, I crash and burn. It's funny how we all deal with things in different ways. I keep thinking: one day at a time, one day at a time. I know my body can do this...

Sunday, November 26, 2006


It has been eight months from the time I made my initial call to my fertility clinic. Today I received my first treratment plan*.

I arrived at Clinic #1 shortly after 8 this morning for my ultrasound. It is CD4 (I was in Vermont for Thanksgiving yesterday, so I was not able to make it on CD3), and I was a bit apprehensive about being wanded while bleeding. I know we all have to do it, and the doctors do it all the time, but I have a heavy flow, and well, I didn't want to make a mess everywhere. In walks The World's Best Doctor in jeans and a rugby shirt, and he sits down and gets right to business. Insert dildo cam, look at uterus, look at right ovary, look at left ovary, get dressed meet him in office.

You may remember me talking about the doctor's larygitis from my account of our initial visit. Let me tell you that during the u/s the doctor barely said a word to me, and those that he said I did not understand. It was very confusing, and a bit weird. At one point I felt like I might cry, and he was obviously looking at my cysts (that I recon he had hoped would shrink with the BCP he prescribed.) I think he said/mouthed that my ovaries look abnormal. But really, I can't be certain.

It's alright for the man to have lost his voice, but it would have been nice if someone explained to me that this was still the case.

In the office we were joined by the nurse. TWBD again said something garbled, and then started fiddling around on the computer. I was a bit surprised that he wasn't going to talk to me about what he had seen with the u/s, but I didn't ask. The nurse started telling me that all systems were go for begining treatment this cycle. I will start 2.5 mg Fe.mara tonight for CD4-8, and on CD6 I would start 20IU Pur.egon (I think that's the dose). I am to go in on Monday for injection teaching. Then Wednesday an u/s.

Whoa! This all happened so fast! When we had our original consult we discussed Fem.ara, and the possibility of an hCG shot. Now... injectables? Right off the bat? Jeez Louise! I asked the nurse why, and she told me that after looking at my ovaries today the doctor felt that the Fem.ara would not do anything alone. To me this was really bewildering. I think that I never thought that my issues were so complex. I have had alot of time to adjust to the idea of medical intervention to get us pregnant, but today it was all sinking in. I won't lie: I am scared shitless of having to give myself needles. (Saving grace: the Pur.egon comes in a pen. I have already watched a video on how to give the injection. Still, though, I am freaked out.)

The C's parents are here for the weekend, so I haven't had time to discuss this with him at any length. (He also worked all day today, and is working tomorrow.) All he really says about this is that he is hopeful. I guess that maybe it's good that someone has some hope, because to me it feels like this cycle is the first step in an painfully long journey.

*We won't count the two Clo.mid cycles I did in May and August, because knowing what I know now, there was no hope for them anyways.

Sunday morning update:
Last night I was a raving lunatic. I completely lost my marbles. As I wrote above, The C and I hadn't had time to discuss the appointment, and as the day wore on I felt the pressure of all the information that I learned weighing heavily on me. As I didn't have time to sit with The C and discuss how I was feeling, I was under the impression that he didn't care what happened at the appointment, what the treament was going to be, and the mental impact all this was having on me. I was a total bitch all night while both of our parents were over for dinner. When we got into bed I completely lost it. I was yelling, and screaming, and crying. I was pretty much a raving lunatic who thought the world was against her and that nobody gave a shit, least of all my husband. How could I have anticipated feeling like this, and reacting like this? I don't see how I could have. This is the worst feeling in the world, and the cycle is just begining. I only have one day of hormones in me. What will I be like in a few days? What will I be like when this cycle fails, and inumberable subsequent cycles fail? It is so painful to even think about...

Wednesday, November 22, 2006



Don't get too excited, let me tell you how the Great Period Commencement of November 2006 actually unfolded.

As I promised, I donned a nice crisp pair of white panties on Monday. At about 3:30 I went to the bathroom, and while there was nary a trace of anything on the cotton, when I wiped-behold there was a red streak! Eureka! I had hit the jackpot! I put on a pad, and radn directly to the phone to call Clinic #1. I did not pass go, I did not collect $200.00. My cycle had started, people. This was way more important than collecting a couple of hundred bucks.

Ring... Ring...
Receptionist: Clininc #1!
Me: Hi this is Ms. C, I just started my period-
R: So you want to come in on Wednesday?
Me: Ok, but my period just started, is Wednesday ok? Because I am going out of town on Thursday and Friday...
R: No, Wednesday should be alright!
Me: Great! See you then!


And then yesterday... not much of anything going on down there. The small trace of blood from the day before had dried up. There was a bit of brown goo when I wiped, but other than that there was little that I would call a period. I debated whether or not to call the clinic all morning, when at 10.30 the phone rang.

Receptionist: Hi this is Clinic #1 calling to change your appointment to another time...
Me: Speaking of appointment... I think my period has disappeared. It's kinda just brown now...
R: Is this normal for you?
Me: I don't really have a "normal"...
R: Let me speak to The World's Best Doctor and I'll call you right back.

About 20 minutes later (20 minutes! That's pretty impressive!)
Receptionist: I spoke with TWBD and he wants you to call when you have a full flow.
Me: Alright. (Duh, like I couldn't see that one coming!)
Me (again): But what if I don't get a "full flow" this month? I was on BDP for 2 weeks, and that may have changed the way my body will react...
R: Don't worry, you will get it.
Me: But, seriously, what if I don't?
R: You will. (She was saying this very kindly, not in a geez, you infertiles are so whiny kind of way.)
R: And you told me you are going away for a couple of days, didn't you?
Me: Yes... so what happens if I get my "full flow" on Wednesday, can I come in on Saturday instead of Friday.
R: Yes. Your timing will still be fine.
Me: Thank you so much!!!
R: Have a good trip!

The story ends as follows: This morning I wake up to FULL FLOW. I will call the clinic again, and will schedule my ultrasound etc... for Saturday. All is good. What kills me is that I was making myself sick over this last week (the what if scenarios of when I start my cycle, and will I let me family down if I couldn't go away because my scan would be on Thursday or Friday), all for no good reason. I really need to fucking chillax sometimes.

Now I am onto the next stage of the game... My first monitored cycle. I am excited, but I don't want to be hopeful. Really, why should this even work?

Happy Thanksgiving, all you lurvly Americans! I am thankful that I have you in my life.

Monday, November 20, 2006


I am waiting for my period. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

My final BCP was on Thursday. My body has had time to adjust itself, and should be bleeding by now! Hello!

As I complained about in the previous post, if I get my period Wednesday, my CD3 scan will fall on US Thanksgiving. I promised to drive my grandmother down to Vermont to see my aunt, uncle and cousins (who will be in for just a few days from college, and will be my grandmother's only opportunity to see them in the next few months.) If my period (or should I call it thorn in my side) arrives tomorrow, I hopefully will be able to get an early appointment at the clinic, and still make it to Vermont in time for turkey lunch.*

I was thinking... should I wear my brightest, cleanest, whitest underwear today? You think that would do any good?

*It is also fine if my period comes on Thursday, as I will be back by Saturday. But I will be left wondering why it took so long to appear.

Friday, November 17, 2006


Again, it has been an entire week since I've posted. It's not that I have nothing to write about. I am constantly thinking of things I want to say, discuss, get your opinions on. Here are somethings I contemplated:

Why is Met.formin reaking havoc on my system at 1500mg?

How can Kel stomach 2750mg of it a day?

Why I get upset that The C doesn't remember what point we are at in the cycle.

How come after taking my 14th (out of 14) BCP I spotted that day?

5 Things about me tag.

When am I going to get my period?

Is my cd3 scan going to coincide with Thanksgiving, when I promised to drive my grandmother to Vermont to see my cousins?

Why I freaked out when The C told me I put the cutting board in the wring place while chopping an onion last night.

When will I get pregnant?

How will I get pregnant?

What if I am a lousy mother? (and so on and so forth in a fun downward spiral)

You see, there are a whole host of things going on inside my head. All of them complaints. (Except the 5 things tag, but that has potential to be 5 complaints that I have.) I am feeling like crap. I want to (and have been) lying in bed watching tv for large chunks of the day. I torture myself by watching Baby Story and Bringing Home Baby on TLC. I cry during every show. These activites do not lend to getting much work done. (Thankfully, being self-employed and working at home, I have no one to answer to but myself. And myself isn't giving too much of a shit.)

I know I have to snap out of it. Complaining is so not cool.

Friday, November 10, 2006


Geez, a whole week, let's do a little catching up, shall we?

So much for my daily posts for National Infertility Awareness Week! Maybe three out of five isn't too shabby. Though I didn't post last Firday, I did my teeny weeny part out there in my community. I talked about IF openly and loudly in a very busy restaurant while lunching with a friend. I talked about my IF. I discussed semen analyses. I went into detail about transvaginal ultrasounds. And I talk VERY loudly. In public. It would be very difficult for other people not to hear me. So I will consider that part of my dissemination of information that I promised for the week.

However, on Saturday, while my mother was holding and coochy-cooing a most adorably delish 14 month old, the father of the baby said to me: "Look how much your mother would like one! You guys really should get going!" AND I DIDN'T SAY A WORD. Ok, I may have repleid with my usual "Yup!", but I did not keep my end of the bargain wherein I was going to try to be more out about IF. I didn't even have OUT myslef to this guy, but I could have been a bit small "o" out. I could make lots of excuses: I was at my parent's place of business. The C was right behind me, and it might make him uncomfortable. There were the other guys that he works with all around, too. But I feel that I should have said something. I need to refine a statement that I can produce when someone says something like that to me. Something along the lines of: "Yes, we would love to have a baby, but it hasn't been so easy for us." Not OUT, but a bit of information disemination to educate the general public on how baby making is not all snap, crackle and pop for one sixth of our population.

Do you guys have a quick and dirty response that you give people in a situation like this? (ie: You don't want to pull out your entire medical record, but you don't exactly feel that staying silent is the way to go.) Please share!

The rest of my week has been pretty uneventful (if you would even call what I wrote above eventful...) My biggest enjoyment of the past few days has been the nurturing of a lovely cyst on my coccyx that comes and goes from time to time. It appears when I am stressed and tired, and takes a number of days to go away. And it hurst like hell, is all red and hard, and makes sitting, lying down, and changing possitions very painful. I know: fun and games with Ms. C's body. It was the worst ever the week before our wedding-talk about stress! This week I went to see my homeopath about treatment (I have previously taken antibiotics, but I know this is something that can be treated homeopathically. I really don't like to put more medication into my body than necessary.) The pain and inflamation have subsided, and now I have just some mild discomfort. I love my homeopath. She asked if I felt uncomfortable pulling my pants down slightly so she could have a look at the spot. I was like: no problem... I have had tons of people look at more private parts of me without asking so kindly!

Today is "show set-up day" for me. Three times a year I participate in industry tradeshows where I pimp my work and I try to secure business for the ensuing year. It is a necessary evil which I really dislike doing. It is boring, repetative, tiring, and often baby-filled. The set-up of my booth is also a pain, as it is not something I can do alone. At other times of the year The C can help me out, but in November I have to enlist the help of someone else. Someone who has a flexible schedule as set-up is only in the daytime. The only person available is my brother, who is wonderful for helping me out in a pinch, but whom I feel bad instructing to do this and that. Oy, can you tell I am so not looking forward to the next three days? And when it's all done: the whole booth has to come down...

On a final note, there is not much to report on my personal IF front. I am on day 8 of 14 days of BCP, which when I am done will hopefully produce a period and cystless ovaries so we can start treatment with The World's Best Doctor. If all goes according to plan, CD3 will be in approximately 2 weeks. Of course, I shall keep you posted.

Have a good weekend all you lovely people!

Thursday, November 02, 2006


Here she comes, people: Infertility Awareness Week Topic #3.

Today I am going to tackle something more personal. It is a topic that I find myself thinking a lot about, and is discussed time and time again in our community. The subject to which I am referring is how out I am as an individual who is infertile, and what I pledge to do to change my status.

This is not to say that I have not shared our trying to conceive difficulties with anyone, but the numbers are few. I am OUT to a few people: My wonderful girlfriend who listens to all my anger and frustration, and accompanied me to my HSG (and informed the doctor that I was on CD9, because she's so great she even remembers those details); Shlomit, who is on this rocky journey right along with me; and S who truly understands, as she struggled to conceive a few years ago, and is now blessed with two beautiful daughters. I do have another friend who I am only out (small "o") to, and although she is wonderfully empathetic, she is pregnant for a second time, and I feel that at times she doesn't quite get it. Then there is MM who reads this blog (hi darling!) so she knows every detail of what is going on, but doesn't really discuss it with me. That's just the way she is, she is not one to talk about things... yet it is comforting to me that she knows what's up.

And finally, there are my parents (bring the grand total up to 7 people!). If it weren't for necessity (as in The C needed time off work and needed to obtain it from his boss, my parents) I'm not sure that we would have come out to them. Our first conversation included very superficial details: We want a baby and we need medical help. I think what my parents heard was: We have a doctor's appointment, and next month we will be pregnant. Ummm... not quite getting it, but as we didn't really share more details, I don't know if I could blame them.

Over the last month we have had a slew of appointments, nailed down some specifics, and formed some game plans. If my parents hadn't come out and asked: How did it go?, I'm not sure I would have shared anything. But they did inquire, so bit by bit we have been sharing some details. They are starting to understand that just sitting in a doctor's office won't get us pregnant. They are learning that there is an entire field, and yes specialized clinics dedicated to helping people get pregnant. That we will require medication, and perhaps even injections with needles, and ejaculations into specimen containers, and maybe test tubes to get us pregnant. And when we presented them with the menu of procedures and their costs (The C commented that the paper we received from our clinic looks like it could have come from out take-out menu drawer), my parents began to understand what we were facing... physically and financially.

There have been comments that allude to the fact that they don't get how invested we are in this emotionally. Let's look at a few, and examine their flaws:

1. You have to make an effort to make your life less stressful. a) I would not be lying if I said that other than being stressed about IF, I am less stressed than I have been in the past 12 years; and b) Stress will not change the poly-cystic nature of my ovaries.

2. You remember so and so (mother of two boys I grew up with)... As soon as she adopted S she got pregnant with M. I'm not quite sure how this relates to our specific situation, other than that my parents think that she probably was less stressed after the adoption went through, and therefore we can refer to #1.

3. Why don't you adopt? a) I'm not quite ready to give up so easily on experiencing pregnancy, and giving birth to children genetically related to us; b) It's not as easy as walking in to an adoption agency one morning and walking out with an infant of your choice; and c) To me, at this point, adoption offers an other set of emotional investments.

4. So you might have quintuplets? (Wow, did my father even say that?) Any amount of children would be a blessing, but there are ways to assure that won't happen. However, it's possible we could have twins.

Since this discussion that revealed their ignorance, I am trying to be more open and educating about infertility and how it is making us feel. It was hard at first to talk so openly, but I really want them to understand what we are going through. For example, when I was telling my mother about the upcoming HSG, I did not focus on the cost of the procedure, and that it might hurt, but more on the fact that I was upset that The C wouldn't be there with me, and how nervous I was that it might reveal some problems. I am also trying to educate them on what is alright to say to us, and to help them I have provided them with a copy of Infertility Etiquette from Resolve, and various literature about PCOS. Their attitudes and ways of supporting us are starting to change, and I am glad that The C and I decided to let them in on what is happening.

For all this talk about my varying degrees of being out and OUT, there have been two instances in the past two weeks where I walked away feeling somewhat ashamed that I didn't speak up about my infertility, and infertility in general.

The first episode occurred in Vegas while bitching to one of my girlfriends about getting my period. I never like getting my period. Since going off the pill it is very heavy and very uncomfortable. This was compounded by the fact that I had tried to time my taking the Pro.metrium so that I wouldn't get my period while away. Oh the tricks my flow plays on me! (Thankfully, because I have to induce my period, it's arrival is planned, and therefore does not signify a failed cycle.) So, ya... there I was complaining about this bloody annoyance. My friend's advice to me? I should switch birth control pills, or, you know, I should just get pregnant-because then I wouldn't have to worry about my period for nine months. Wait a minute... Why didn't I think of that??!! What did I respond? "Uhh.. ya."

The second instance was at my pharmacy. While I live in a city of a few million people, my neighbourhood has more of a small town feel where everyone knows everyone, and my pharmacist has known me since the day I was born. While filling my prescription for Met.formin (on which Centre de Fertilite xyz was clearly written,) my pharmacist proclaimed: "Oh, so you're having the same trouble as my daughter!" (His daughter who I grew p with and was friends with well into my teens.) My response: "Oh. Maybe. I don't know." Because I didn't know. The next time I went in I had a prescription from Clinic #1. Upon filling this one the pharmacist said, "Oh, so you've changed clinics, I hear this doctor is very good." Me: "Ya." (Please note that I am not worried about my privacy with the pharmacist, I am certain that he will not say anything to anyone.)

When I look back on both cases, I find myself thinking: Why did I not speak up? Why? With my friend I wish that I would have been bold enough to tell her that I was having such a shitty period because I wasn't pregnant. And that getting pregnant for me has not been so easy. With my pharmacist, seeing as he was opening the door, I wish that I had taken a step in. I could have enquired about what difficulties his daughter had with her pregnancies, and asked if she was open to talking about them. The second time I wish I asked what good stuff he had heard about my doctor and the clinic.

And so, on this Thursday of Infertility Awareness Week, I am making the following pledge:

I, Ms. C, solemnly pledge to be more out about infertility. I shall try tell the truth when I am asked why I don't have children. I will not be embarrassed by my struggle to conceive. I shall strive to educate those who are ignorant about infertility. I will work to dispel myths, and spread useful information. And I shall be thankful to you guys everyday for helping me learn and cope with y infertility.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006


Hello all you Canadians out there! Hey even to you guys in Montreal who refuse to let me know that you exist! Welcome to today's Infertility Awareness Week Announcement.
Today's post is brought to you by the letters M and P. As in: Write a letter to your Memeber of Parliament.

Back in June, Jenny from the Infertility Block posted about Canada being among the worst in terms of coverage of ART. She write about it eloquently in her post, which you can read by clicking here. At the end of her post she included a letter to send to our MPs. It was originally printed in this summer's issue of the IAAC Creating Families magazine, and I am reprinting it below. I am urging all my fellow Canadians to write to their MPs in this week of awareness. You can find the address of your MP by searching here.

Mr./Ms. (Full Name)
M.P. House of Commons
Ottawa, Ontario
K1A 0A6

Dear Mr./Ms. (last name)
1. Children are Canada's most valuable future resource. Previous governments have claimed to be concerned about our country's declining birth rate. Yet they have refused to provide crucial assistance for many Canadians who are committed to becoming parents.
2. Nearly one Canadian couple in six experiences infertility problems. Infertility is not a choice. It is a medical condition. These couples need professional assistance in order to conceive. Even so, today's most advanced assisted reproduction technologies (ART) remain beyond their financial means.
3. The new government says that it will stand up for Canada by meeting the needs and interests of Canada's families. Mr. Harper's election platform declared that the family is the building block of society. What about standing up for Canadian couples who want to create their families, but can't - because they need medical assistance to do so - assistance that is often beyond their private means?
4. The new government is committed to relieving financial pressures on low-income and middle-income families bringing up children. It has promised to provide child-care money directly to parents. Will it also provide assistance to couples who want to create families but cannot, without financial access to assisted reproductive technologies?
5. Restricting access to IVF compromises the fertility of woman, causes immense financial hardship to couples requiring assisted conception treatments and makes IVF affordable for well-off couples only.
6. Infertility problems also carry social and economic costs: lost working hours, poor productivity, psychological and psychiatric support to treat stress and depression, and marital breakdowns.
7. The total cost of a refundable tax credit for IVF treatment would be $170 million for the entire country. This represents a little over one tenth of one percent of Canada's $130 billion estimated total health care spending in 2004.
8. Since 1983, over 15,000 children have been born in Canada through assisted reproduction technologies. Today these children - many of whom are now voting age - and their parents and extended families expect our political leaders to courageously and fairly address this important issue, so that all Canadians may share not only the costs but also the public benefits of IVF treatment.
9. It is time for Canada to take a major step forward in health and family policy by guaranteeing funded IVF treatment. I sincerely hope our country's infertile couples may rely on your support.

Yours Truly,
Canadian Infertile Voter

Thanks a million, Jenny!