Up to now Part 3: There you have it

We decided to move forward pretty quickly following the miscarriage. One last thing about that –  prior to getting pregnant I had read, “Don’t tell anyone you’re pregnant who you’re not comfortable telling you’ve miscarried.”   Thank goodness we only told a couple of people…not only did we avoid having to awkwardly tell a mess of folks that we were back to the drawing board, but more importantly, as excited as your dearest friends are for you that you’re pregnant, they also know just how to help you when you’re not.

I called The Russian.  Having just been ready to start IVF 7 weeks prior I suddenly found myself NOT ready to start IVF, and while I played with the idea of trying naturally for awhile (especially since I’d gotten pregnant naturally) the doc and I agreed that that route had delay of game potential and that it was time to get aggressive.  “Vee share the same goal and that is for you to leave vith a baby.”  The Russian is wise.

I did 6 cycles of Clomid last year and felt like Clomid could go F itself.  We opted for Folistim and an IUI.  I can’t say that I was excited to go the IUI route again, but I needed a middle ground between going natural and going full science…..and this was The Russian, not the old codger at the other clinic….so it was worth a shot.

Speaking of shots, I’d given myself the Ovidrel trigger last summer (fyi, Ovidrel mimics your natural hormonal surge that tells your body to ovulate) so it wasn’t exactly my first rodeo.  And, I’m enough of a tech nerd to dig the Follistim pen. That. Thing. Is. Cool.

1) It does all the work for ya.

2) it comes in a groovy little case

and

3) the needles are stupid sharp so it really doesn’t hurt but a smidge (allowing for the fact that everyone’s different, no judgment and my apologies if yours hurt like the dickens).

So I do the injections, I give blood, I have ultrasounds, I have one follicle kicking ass and 1 other likely to catch up by IUI time.  I trigger, we go to the office, while we’re waiting for things to process, we go out to breakfast nearby at a Denny’s that coincidentally has 30-40 members of a senior citizen Harley-Davidson club carb-loading for a big ride.  We head back to the office, I get the IUI and we wait.

Again with the waiting.

Alas, I get my period a few days before I was even supposed to go into the office for testing so we’re out of the game again.

This time though, I’m ready for IVF.

We sign a mess of papers, we get walked through a calendar of events and I start taking birth control pills to suppress my system before jacking it back up for the scientific magic making.

It’s exciting. It’s terrifying. And it’s a secret from almost everyone I know.

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The baby quest up to now Part 1ish

So while I’m starting this blog at the dawn of our IVF adventure, we’ve been at the whole trying to get pregnant business for quite some time.  I met my husband at my 38th birthday party and we married almost three years later.  A few months after, embarking upon our Hawaiian honeymoon we also opted to embark upon….trying.  You know, the Trying that people talk about with a wink and a knowing nod……mostly people in their 20s and 30s, but let’s not quibble.  That was about 18 months ago – much has happened, much has been learned, and much has been pondered.

At the time I was on my own health insurance, which had limited coverage regarding assisted fertility of any kind.  I did four cycles of Clomid, then we went to a Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE) and did 2 IUIs (artificial insemination) with even more Clomid – which gave me my first taste of hot flashes, not a welcome tap on the shoulder of inevitable lady fun yet to come.   That first RE I went to was an old stodgy man who did little more than write teeny tiny percentages on a piece of paper and basically tell me I had a rat’s chance of conceiving based exclusively on my age.   As of fall I found myself waiting to get onto my husband’s insurance and so took to chilling out, starting some supplements and doing weekly acupuncture (more on supplements and acupuncture in a future post).

To back up a hot second, as of February/March of 2012 I started doing ovulation predictor kits (OPKs) every month and eventually added taking my basal body temperature (bbt) each morning (also to track ovulation) – cause ya gotta time the fun-making, you know.

Now, here’s a Golden Ticket I discovered: Illinois is one of the states of our fine union that has a particular mandate in place “Illinois law requires insurance companies and HMOs to provide coverage for infertility to employee groups of more than 25.”  This is like winning the mother fucking lottery.  Here’s the dish on all that:

http://insurance.illinois.gov/HealthInsurance/infertility.asp

That insurance kicked in January 1st, and we are now covered for up to four IVF cycles if that’s what it takes to get this old broad knocked up.

We found a new RE, whom we affectionately call The Russian (she is, in fact, Russian and all her w’s adorably turn into v’s) – she gave us the facts but also some hope and I knew we were in good hands.  We saw her that first time on Valentine’s Day, and since I knew I was about to ovulate, she did an ultrasound to see how things looked.  Jokingly, she said, “sometime veee scare them together.”   Well……she was right, she scared them together, and I never got my period that month.

I’d gotten pregnant naturally at 42.

Suck it naysayers.