Fertility Options

For those curious about the great wide world of fertility, I thought I would take an entry or two to explain some of the options available.

The first option is to take a medicine called Clomid and to chart basil body temperature and hormone levels in order to help achieve ovulation.  Couples perform the rest of baby-making on their own.  This was the easiest and cheapest (and my favorite) option.  We began this last May and tried three rounds of Clomid before Hurricane Ike happened to our Galveston mansion and pulled us off the baby-track for a few months.  Before we began this process, we had "tried" to get pregnant on our own for about a year and a half (although we were totally in denial that we were trying. But, as "Marley and Me" so poetically states, "if you've pulled the goalie, then you're trying.").  Specialists recommend trying for at least a year.

The second option--the one that we tried in April--is IUI, or IntraUterine Insemination.  There are two basic types of IUI.  The first medical option is for the woman to take Clomid to help ensure ovulation within a certain time period.  The second option is for the woman to "shoot herself up" with tons of other hormones.  We chose the latter.  I think I had 4-5 different injection cycles/medications to take during that month.  I was amazed when the medicine arrived in a large white box, and I was further amazed when I was actually able to fill a syringe and inject myself.  Necessity enables the conquering of daunting tasks.  Hormone levels tests help the doctor determine the most likely time of ovulation, and the male's "collection" is inserted in the hope that egg and sperm will meet and make a beautiful new bundle.  IUI has a 25-35% success rate when all goes well, and doctors will usually recommend no more than four procedures.  They run about $2000+, depending on insurance and cost of medication.  Although the success rate seems low, it actually allows couples to have the same odds per cycle as traditional fertile couples.

The third option--and the more aggressive option--is InVitro fertilization.  From what I understand, the woman is asked to take even more hormones and be subjected to even more tests in an effort to ensure that her body produces healthy eggs and is ready for implantation.  Once several follicles are ready (usually around day 13-14 of the cycle), the woman is placed under a mild anesthesia while the doctor extracts as many eggs as possible.  The eggs are then shipped to the lab where they are either placed in a petri-dish with the sperm, in hopes that they will flirt and hook up :), or the specialists actually chooses one sperm to inject into one egg in order to leave less to chance.  The embryos grow for about three days and then two (or more, depending on the quality of egg, age and health of patient, craziness of the woman/doctor, etc...) is transferred back into the woman, and she is placed on bed rest so as not to jostle any babies out.  jk, but I don't really know why she's placed on bed rest, unless to help ensure implantation of the embryo(s) into the womb.  Success rate for IVF is about 60%, depending on age, quality of egg/sperm, etc... and costs is $10,000+.

That said, no announcements as to what we will be doing in the upcoming months.  Still speaking with doctors and performing tests at present.  Fertility is certainly a long (and expensive, if you haven't noticed from my other blogs :)) process.  Hope to have baby news--fertility and/or adoption--by the end of summer or by the fall at the latest.  I did, however, want to offer some insight into what we have been learning and pondering for the past few months.  And, I'd like to make an obvious comment as my conclusion to all of this medical babble: Babies are indeed a miracle.  Thankfully, God is a miracle worker.

Money, Money, Money

Thanks to Donald Trump, the song "Money, Money, Money" has been made popular to a new generation. It's also the theme that's been ringing through my head as we edge closer and closer to the big idea of advanced fertility treatments and adoption. In honor of this reality, I've listed a couple ideas that cause me a moment of amusement as I watch our bank account ebb and flow.

*Instead of bragging about achievements in the never-ending-my-kid-is-better-than-your-kid-game, I think I'll just make my child wear a badge that says, "My baby costs more than your baby."
*Instead of blue or pink wallpaper, I'm considering covering one entire wall with oh-so-lovely black and white receipts. (Besides, it'd be a good way for baby to learn math early.)
*And instead of considering twins as an overwhelming option, I would just consider them my best-ever "two-for-one" deal :)

Let me know if you think of any other benefits of spending tens of thousands of dollars on baby Bird--besides the fact that there will actually be a beautiful baby Bird someday. I know that's so worth trading in my shopping money for a while!

Our Diaper List

Most people have heard of "The Bucket List," a list of things to do/places to go before one "kicks the bucket."  Tim and I, however, have added a new twist to this idea and have instead made our diaper list, a list of things to do/places to go before one has to change diapers/carry diapers everywhere.  I thought I'd share my diaper list today, since I am hoping (God-willing) to be pregnant with that little diaper-needing bundle in July.

1. Go to D.C. one more time--March 2009 DONE!

2. Have a mixed drink or glass of wine at least once a week

3. Pedicures just to pamper myself

4. Write my next book (at least the rough draft)

5. Workout and lose weight (10 pounds off so far!) before I have to pack on the pounds

6. A night out at the Melting Pot (kind of goes against the "lose weight" point, I know)

And if we don't conceive in July and adopt first instead, I will be able to add "Trip to Disney World" (hopefully) and "Trip to Europe (or Asia?) to pick up baby."  There's always a bright lining.  Just need to search for it sometimes. :)

Friends, please post if you have any additional ideas or a diaper list/bucket list of your own.

Summer Sun

Today, I celebrate the last day with my students, and although I am thrilled to be finished with another school year, saying goodbye to students who have annoyed and frustrated and humored me (and become absolutely lovable in the process) is always bittersweet.  However, I am looking forward to the summer and to the potential it holds.

Tim and I plan to visit regularly with our new fertility doctor over this next month in the hope of starting a new treatment cycle in July.  Simultaneously, I hope to continue the process of choosing our country and adoption agency, so we will be prepared for adoption whether we start the process in the fall or in a year or two.

I am also hoping to find hours and hours of time to write this summer, keeping in mind that it could be my last summer as a footloose, fancy-free non-mom.  Such a good reminder that while I wait, I should choose to enjoy every moment.  I know I'll sometimes miss my moments of solitude when little feet are running circles around me.  And if you're reading this, my blogging friends, please let me know about your summer plans.  I'd love to touch base and get together! (For J: California here I come ;) I wish)

Expecting . . . Hope

The conference call offered further insight into the Bulgarian program, but one fact was a little disappointing.  Bulgaria requires that adoptive parents own the home in which they live, and as many of you know, we have a delightful seaside beach cottage in a tropical locale with our name on it (insert sarcastic laugh here).  I asked the program coordinator if it would be enough for us to own a home, even if we are currently renting it out.  She said that our mailing address must match the deed to our property.

Although I already knew the answer, I asked Tim if hiccups like this would just be part of the process.  Of course.  For now, I guess this leaves me wondering what God is up to.  I could blame the stalls and unexpected news on bad timing, the economy, our house-buying naivety, or mere coincidence, but so much of our journey has been so orchestrated that there must be a plan (and I know it’s not my original proposal).

So, we wait.  I mean, really, how wrong would it be if I started a blog entitled, “Our Waiting Room” and then everything worked out perfectly within a few months? J No, my friends, I think this blog will be around for a few years, until all of my little ones have been brought near from across the globe and are tucked in safe and sound in our (new?—maybe now J) home, and I’m a changed woman who has learned the intricate art of patiently waiting with expectant hope.

Comparisons

"Don't compare our journey to someone else's."--Tim said this to me last night after I finished telling him about news of a recent friend's pregnancy.  Inevitably, even happy news such as this carries with it questions such as, "Why hasn't that happened to me yet?  Am I doing something wrong?  Would I not make a good mother?" Logic and time have enabled me to brush away these questions quickly by now, but Tim's words helped as well.

At the risk of seeming simplistic, I felt like I understood in that moment that my journey is my journey.  It's unfair for me to judge another person's as easier or more difficult.  Instead, I must accept the place that God has brought me, trusting that His timing is perfect and that His purposes for me are good.  With this trust comes the realization that regardless of the longevity of  the struggle and regardless of the disappointments along the way, the journey will lead me to God's perfect plan in the end.

Choices, Choices

I talked to an old friend over the weekend, and she told me she was reading the blog every day--my biggest (and only) fan, I'm sure :)--(Thanks, A!). But in case others out there are reading too, I thought I would take this opportunity to explain a few details about where Tim and I are at in the adoption process.

It's taken months for us to arrive at a place where we feel almost ready to make a final decision regarding the country and type of adoption.  Tim asked me to wait until June to finally ask him where he feels led, and I've got a count down (7 days!) until I can "pop" this important question.  So, I will preface this entry by saying that any of these thoughts and plans are subject to change.  I decided at  the beginning of this whole journey through infertility that I would allow myself to change my mind as much as needed.

We have explored three different adoption options: domestic, foster-to-adopt, and international.  All three of them afford different pros and cons, and our decision is certainly not the right fit  for everyone.  Instead, we are seeking to find the route that makes the most sense for our family.  Tim and I decided that domestic adoption through an agency would not be the best fit for us at present because in the state of Texas a birth mother cannot sign adoption papers for at least 48 hours, thus leaving her the option--a well-founded option--of changing her mind.  Please note that research shows that this is not a common problem; however, we felt that after ALL of the uncertainties of infertility, this was not an uncertainty that we want to intentionally face.  

Second, we seriously considered foster-to-adopt, and this may still be an option for us in the future.  However, if we adopt our first child, we would prefer a solid time-table for a baby, and unfortunately, the foster-care system does not offer this.  It might be three months (if we were extremely lucky) and it might be a couple of years.  Again, with the uncertain time-table we've already faced with infertility, we prefer to have a more-solid plan. (Though we attempt to realize that nothing is truly certain).  

Thus, we are left with the beautiful option of international adoption, which I feel is fitting for the desires God has placed in me.  I actually felt the call to adopt during a trip to an orphanage in Mexico as I saw a baby who had been abandoned in a sewer because she had a cleft palette and a club foot.  I left that trip with a desire to adopt that has only grown as the years have progressed.  

I felt a bit overwhelmed as we first started exploring the realm of international adoption.  Realistically, there is an entire world out there, and we are supposed to find the one (or two or three) children for our family???  Glad that God is ultimately in charge.  So, as I began researching, I found that about half the countries were closed to Tim and I because of  our age (requirement: 30 years to our 27 years).  Another few carried financial concerns because of the enormous cost ($40,000-$60,000).  Others had trip-travel times of a month or more, which would be difficult since we both work.  That left a handful from which to explore.  

An important feature I then looked for were trends in adoption rates, and after literally months of research, I am most interested in Bulgaria.  They have recently (as of 2008) begun processing numerous applications, and they are even considering lowering the adoption age from 18 months to 6 months.  Now, I'm on the quest for an agency, and I hope I've found it with Little Miracles.  If anyone has any info regarding this country or agency, I'd be happy to hear advice.  Also, if you'd like to see a video of Bulgarian children at an orphanage in Sofia (the capital  city), here's a great link  http://www.littlemiracles.org/index.php?page=programs&progid=11 .

We have a conference call about this program on Wednesday evening, so I will try to update with any additional information after that.  It's all a process to find our precious baby.  Thanks for all your prayers and support!

"I will call her Sarah"

Because my siblings and I are so spread out in age (me: 27, sis Lindsay: 21, sis Katie: 16, bro Cody: 13), I have great memories of babies and children in the home.  One memory that came to mind yesterday was right before my youngest sister was born.  I was eleven and Lindsay was five.  Lindsay loved stuffed animals and she loved the name "Sarah."  Thus, ALL of her beloved stuffed animals were called by her beloved name.  (Sarah the Sea Otter--from Monterey Bay Aquarium--was her favorite.)  So, when my mom began discussing names for her  third daughter, Lindsay was quick to tell her feelings on the matter.  "You may name her Katie, mommy, but I will call her Sarah."

If my life was a book, I would consider that moment a foreshadow of a dear friend who would become my surrogate (only-slightly) older sister (Sorry, Sarah :)).  She is practical and loyal and hilarious, and she, along with my family, has been a constant source of encouragement for Tim and I as we navigate the scary journey of infertility.  She allows me to discuss babies, babies, babies.  She listens to me change my mind and then change it again.  Bulgaria, IUI, Thailand, In Vitro, Kazakhstan, Clomid, foster care. She offers insight I hadn't yet considered.  And above all, she doesn't judge me regardless of the decisions I make.  Thank you to all the dear friends who continue to support us in the journey.  Your words of encouragement are so appreciated.  

Toddlers to Teens

I am a high school teacher, and at times as I teach my class, I have a sudden realization that the cute, tiny bundle for which I wait will one day grow into one of these taller-than-me, hilariously obnoxious seventeen-year-old boys or one of the beautiful, talkative, heartwarming sixteen-year-old girls. Amazing how that happens.

Thus, with the school year coming to a close (and this "oh-my-gosh-that-baby-will-grow-up-one-day" realization fresh on my mind), I'd like to dedicate this blog entry to a few of my favorite (or at least most-memorable) teaching moments over the past few years. (Names of schools and students have been omitted to protect the innocent.)

*The day one of my senior boys dropped a metal bucket from the second story onto another boy's head. The injured party ran up to me, blood dripping from his head and asked if he could go to the nurse. Really, did you have to ask? He dripped all the way across the building but was most upset about getting a red stain on his clean shoes.

*The entire month that one of my students who was born with only one arm convinced me that his other arm had been bitten off in a shark attack. Thanks for that.

*The Open House Night at which the parents arrived one-by-one and noticed the other parents already sitting in the room. They kept exclaiming, "I didn't know he was in here too. We asked that they not be put in the same room. I'm so sorry!" I didn't understand at first. A month later, the apologies were well-deserved.

*The day I walked into the room and asked a student to complete a task. As I turned to go, I heard her mutter under her breath, "She is ruining my life." Yep. That's my job sometimes.

*The day one of the only black students in the school convinced an aging (and somewhat eccentric) librarian to put up a sign proclaiming that "Today is Hug A Black Friend Day." I had to explain the problem with this.

*The day the senior boys super-glued all of the locks in the school, so no one could get inside the buildings.

Just a few of my faves. I'm sure more will come to me later on. (Teacher friends/aka those who work with kids: feel free to add your own delightful moments!)

Also, a shout out (I know I'm a nerd) today to Tim--five years ago today I committed to love you and walk with you through highs and lows. I cherish every moment. Here's praying for 55+ more. Love you.

Bulgarian Babies

I am a planner & a control freak.  Not a surprise to many people who know me.  So, imagine my personality type combined with the uncertain future of fertility.  One doctor says we have a chance at conceiving one way; another says with certainty that the option would be a waste of money.  One adoption agency touts a two-year wait for a toddler; another claims just a year for the same age. With all of these choices and uncertainties, it is  easy to become overwhelmed--but that's where my control-freakness helps keeps me sane.  I always have a plan and an end-goal in mind.

However, I also must realize that my plan may fail, change, or be adjusted in some way.  An option that seems hopeful one day may be denied as a possibility the next month.  Likewise, a "never-would-agree-to" possibility may seem feasible in the light of new information (or new desperation).  Thus, I attempt to remain  open to whatever plan God has called T & I to, and I strive to allow "my plan" to morph into "thy will be done."  Whether that's tiny-baby-powder-scented-infants or toddling-two-year-old Bulgarian babies.  I know that either option will be the perfect plan in the end.

Today I feel . . .

Today I feel happy again.  There are several reasons I feel happy today: We met with another doctor who offered some hopeful news, though we are still considering options at present.  Also, I'm sure some of  the "crazy-woman hormones" (that caused me to yell or cry over insignificant matters and at the same time think, "what am I doing? what am I saying? why is poor Tim looking at me like that again?") have washed out of my system by now.  And, finally, I'm sure another reason I feel happier again is because I'm back at school--post swine-flu-scare--and I've had time to absorb the fact that the last fertility treatment didn't work.  It's hard to explain the let-down that came with that knowledge.  I don't imagine that it is as devastating as a miscarriage, but it must be a similar loss of the expectation and hope that accompany a potential new life.

So, today I am looking forward to . . .

*an evening spent eating dinner out and talking with T

*followed by a quick workout (as opposed to the 2.5 hour workout T will get while watching the Rockets)

*and tomorrow a nutrition class with a friend (after my eating out the night before...hmmm...)

*a lovely day spent with my mom just to celebrate her and finally

*a Sunday of rest (and maybe seeing mom once more) while T heads to the Rockets game (go yao!)

It strikes me as humorous to see my weekend list above because who really knows what God has in store for any of us at any moment?  But, thankfully, he is with us in the big and small, the amazing and the mundane.  I am often comforted by the truth that the Psalmist says, when he states, "My times are in Your hands."  How true.

Just Try and Relax

Just Try and Relax . . . the statement seems a bit oxymoronic, doesn't it?  After all, if I'm trying anything, I'm certainly not relaxing, and if I'm relaxing, what could I possibly be trying to do?

And yet, it's what I hear (and tell myself) often as I proceed through this saga of injections, tests and ultrasounds coupled with multiple adoption agency sites full of pictures of babies in  Korea, Thailand, Russia, Bulgaria, and the list goes on . . .  

"Stress doesn't help fertility chances . . . just try and relax."

"Don't think about it anymore . . . just try and relax."

"Open up a bottle of wine and let it happen . . . just try and relax."

The words echo in my mind again and again.

Last night, I read an interesting statement on a fertility doctor's Web site.  The statement basically said that the level of stress in fertility patients is similar to the level of stress cancer patients endure as they go through treatment.  I read another statement posted on a fertility blog in which a contributor wrote that no one would ever tell a patient with a potentially incurable illness, just try and relax.  I am by no means claiming that fertility and cancer issues are the same; however, the stress of visiting doctor after doctor, the frustration with a body that will not perform as designed, and the disappointment (and almost inevitability) of bad news is intense and perhaps slightly comparable.

Because of the high stress level, I realize that I must demand less of myself.  I must allow myself moments to cry, the opportunity to say no to helping with an event, and permission to feel however I happen to feel in that instance.  Otherwise, I will live in constant stress and be forced to keep convincing myself to "just try and relax."

Babies, Babies Everywhere

One day I woke up and babies were swarming around me.  Before that day, I occasionally noticed them and smiled sweetly with my arms crossed (no, I don't want to hold your baby).  But after that day of swarming babies, I saw them everywhere.  As I glanced around a restaurant, my eyes traveled from child to child to child, some tiny, some chubby, some with large ears, some with toothless grins, some screaming, some giggling, some cuddling, and the list goes on because the kids never end!

These children are such a blessing to watch, but at times the mother's can be a bit insensitive as they complain or comment on their little gifts.  So, for those women out there who are blessed with this abundance of babies, babies everywhere, please be aware that some women are not so fortunate.  Some women expect and hope and pray just as much--or more than--you ever did and instead receive the ministry of disappointment to teach their souls.  

Because of this inevitable disappointment for someone fighting for a child, please, ladies, let us choose our words wisely.  As an example of what not to say, I'd like to offer a couple of my favorite comments from well-meaning, lovely women who were only trying to encourage.  The first was from an acquaintace who had tried to have a baby for about five months--yes, a whole five months!--and claimed that she had almost given up hope.  She then proceeded to inform me that when she finally trusted God, she found out she was pregnant.  She hoped that her message would encourage me, but the implication seemed to me to be "Are you trusting God?  Are you sure?"  The second was from another woman who told me about her friend who stressed and struggled to get pregnant.  She was 21 and had been trying for 6 months before she found out she was pregnant.  Please, use sensitivity when speaking with women who have struggled YEARS with such issues.

Such comments are offered with good intentions, but I just wonder at times if we (and yes, I'm including myself here) think about our words before we offer condolences to the hurting.  Perhaps it would be best to sit in silence and mourn with our aching friends rather than offering ignorant words like "your maternal hormones will surely kick in if you start adoption."  Maternal hormones????  What are those???? My fertility doctor hasn't yet mentioned those as a treatment option, but if she ever does, I'm sure I'll try them.  But for now, I wait and try to learn from my own experiences about when to speak and when to remain silent.

Waiting

During this past month, I’ve considered writing a blog for two reasons: first, for my own therapy (which is sorely needed) and second, because of my hunch that many women are struggling through the same emotional turmoil and mood swings (thank you, hormone shots) and might benefit from reading about a woman who might be just a little crazier than themselves.  

I’ve been trying to have a child for almost two-and-a-half years, and I have been fighting for a child for about a year.  I make the distinction because my husband and I decided to “pull the goalie” (as the movie “Marley and Me” states so delicately) but claimed at the time that “we weren’t really trying” to have a baby.  I’m not sure who we thought we were fooling.  After a year and a half of failed attempts even though “we weren’t really trying,” I went to the doctor, knowing by that time that I had PCOS and wondering if my husband might have issues as well.  He did.  Since then, we have been through the Clomid challenge, numerous tests, and IUI.  During that time, we also began looking seriously into adoption.

Today, I feel no closer to a having a child than I did a year ago or two-and-a-half years ago, except that I know more about fertility and adoption, and I have practiced, though not yet perfected, the art of waiting.  I hope that in these pages I may express some of the roller coaster moments I have experienced and perhaps encourage women in their own personal waiting rooms.