The support group

Well, I go to make my post today and there on my Dashboard are pictures of three newborn babies, the newest part of the blogger family and all the "buzz" at Blogger. Yay.

It used to be that pictures of newborns made me want to cry. Now seeing pictures like that just makes me roll my eyes. Is that progress? I'm not so sure.

There was only one other couple at the support group plus a social worker / adoptive mom. I guess I really need to bitch about all of this stuff because I definitely felt a little better afterward. We will definitely drag our butts all the way out there again for another one of those. We just discussed all of the issues and got to complain about how much everything sucks and we asked questions of the adoptive mom/social worker.

My new mantra from the support group meeting? "Glue it down and move on."

This is what the woman in the couple told herself after freaking out about which pictures to put in the picture book thingy. I have to take this attitude. I have to have this attitude for both the birthmother letter and the book. I just need to be truthful and choose what I choose and put it down and move on. Glue it down and move on.

I still haven't written any more. But I'm going to. And I think I can look at this with fresh eyes, so the support group was good.

In other news AF is here again. I think about going on the pill again just so I don't have false hope any more. My hope is much smaller than it used to be, and it's not like we're really trying or anything. But I can't help but hope a little. I wonder if that's bad. I wonder if I should just go on the pill so I have no hope at all. Any thoughts on this?

Starting over (sort of)

Thank you for all of your comments. I am feeling a bit better, though my sadness is still lingering in the background. Work, which keeps me busy and not thinking about my own problems, is a great help. I really feel I chose the right job for myself right now (so far). It is very helpful.

I did not take my bcp last night. T and I decided that we probably will try on our own this month. Whatever happens, happens. Most likely nothing will happen, which is fine. It is possible, though a lot less likely, that I may get pg and miscarry and even less likely that I get pg and it is healthy. But what do we have to lose by trying? We decided that I'm not even going to chart, though I can try OPKs if it moves me. I don't want to take my temp every day. It seems to stress me out.

I will need to organize everything for a dIUI at the out of pocket place for 6 weeks from now. I will need to get my test results faxed from the RE's office to the new office and I may need to go in for another meeting. I need to call them next week.

T and I talked last night about him getting the SA done and we agreed that he should, but as I type this I feel like I don't even want to do that. I just feel like fighting the insurance company is futile, and I don't feel that strongly about it, so why should I make myself angry and emotional when I have an opportunity to just move on?

What really bothers me about all of this is semantic. I am angry that T and I are not considered infertile. According to my insurance company, a genetic defect is not a qualifying event for the use of donor sperm. According to my insurance company, multiple miscarriage does not equal infertility. According to my insurance company, because we requested an IUI with FSH injectables, we cannot go back to just doing a monitored Clomid cycle because you are not allowed to go 'backwards' with your treatment. If I had the time and gumption I feel like I might be able to fight for some coverage, but at this time I have neither. It feels appealing that we will be done with all of these dIUIs in a mere four months from now. I just keep going back to that thought about us not being infertile, though. It galls me. But I guess that's what I get for trying to apply logic to a bureaucracy that tries to not pay for anything so that it can make money.

It has been 2 years since T's diagnosis, and almost two and a half since my first miscarriage. Cycling exhausts me. I need to use up the three vials of donor sperm we own, but I am feeling incredibly antsy and like I no longer have options. It seems that the bottom line is that we need to start a home study so we can move forward with adoption. If I am not doing injectables and whatnot, perhaps starting the home study process won't be quite so overwhelming.

The thing is, I feel like we have no hope to have a baby in less than about 2 years from now. I was pregnant for the first time when I was still 33, and it is a real possibility that we will not have our first child until I am 38. This disappearance of years of my life into a black hole of trying to start a family is devastating to me. I hear over and over that the 30s are the best times of your life. You settle down, work your job, start your family. I did one wonderful thing in my 30s, and that is marry my husband, T. He is sweet and supportive and I never thought I would love somebody the way that I love T. I really feel like our marriage is strong, even through this adversity. I don't want to diminish my marriage or my great relationship with T, but aside from this wonderful thing, my 30s have been hell. I have had a series of bad jobs, miscarriages and disappointments in trying to start a family. My grandparents all passed away, and I saw my delight in other people's children disappear.

I just want to have an average life with an average family. I am exhausted by this roller coaster, and I can't believe the wait and the roller coaster that lies ahead of us as we enter the adoption world.

Irony. Or not.

I talked to my RE's financial coordinator. She basically said we had pretty much no hope for being covered because a genetic defect is not a qualifier for using donor sperm under the rules of my insurance company. This is ironic because we were so excited to get my insurance so we could move on. I think we may have had coverage with T's insurance (though not at my current RE's office) and we were so eager to switch. We can't even go back to just doing monitored Cl0mid cycles with a trigger because now that our request has opened a can of worms and created a need for a semen analysis, they won't cover anything until they get that SA and T's SA will be normal.

So, we may have T do the SA, get rejected and have a lawyer write a letter. That is our only hope, and it is a slim one since according to the law, we are not infertile.

Or, we may go to another clinic and do a Cl0mid IUI using OPKs and just pay out of pocket.

Or both.

This is really hitting me hard. I kind of expected a rejection, but it's hitting me hard anyway. I am really coming to realize that although I have been pregnant four times, the chances of me ever giving birth to a child is extremely low. I will most likely never bear a child. Ever. Yes, I know that I can parent, but this loss feels huge to me right now. It's almost like finding out about our infertility all over again.

I really feel empty inside today. I am feeling my losses so acutely. I don't have the will to fight anymore.

Last night T and I decided that I am going to go on bcps for one more month because there is no way I can scramble together an IUI in two weeks, and if, by miracle, we get the medicated thing approved I'd be all ready. But I'm not sure if I really should do that because the chances of an approval is so small. I want to stop taking bcps and just try on our own. I mean why not? What difference does it make any more?

I am so sick of making these decisions. I want to be done and have a baby on the way, but that is just not how it's going to be in my life. It is going to be finger prints and FBI checks and home visits and waiting and not knowing and possibility and rejection and more waiting. It's going to be money and more money and waiting and renewing and not knowing.

I just can't think straight anymore. I can't make logical decisions any more. Logic has left me. I am a bitter, angry shell. I'm paralyzed. I literally do not know what to do anymore.

she's here

AF has arrived already. Very early. But I think last cycle she came early, so it's no big deal. I think when there is no transfer, it is expected that your period will come within a week to ten days. I made it in 5, so whatever. I will start the pill tonight.

We don't have our follow up visit until May 30. Then we will discuss the drug plan (micro-dose Lu*pron) for the next cycle. I will also be asking tons of questions about what we will do if we decide to go the donor route. I want to know if he thinks we should do medicated (I think probably yes, but am not certain) and whether he would be willing to accept donor sperm and sign a waver and hand it off to us for us to do it on our own if we so chose (which I don't think we will, but I want to know).

MIL leaves tomorrow morning, very early. It has been a nice visit, but it will be nice to have the house to ourselves again. There exists a chance in our future that she will have to live with us. It's vaguely frightening, but we're trying not to worry about that quite yet. It makes T kind of sad to think about his mom's future, so he generally avoids it. But we know it's there and we think of it when she's around. For now, she goes back to Oregon.

Today we took her to the coolest place. The Harvard Museum of Natural History has an exhibit with glass flowers. They are just amazing. They are so real looking. They are so delicate and accurate, and there are enlargements of cross cuts and other plant parts. Very cool. I hadn't been there since I was a little girl, and I really enjoyed it. If you live in Boston, or come here to visit, I recommend it highly.

Surprise

Without expectation, af arrived today. I was quite taken aback. I expected to have to wait another week. I talked it out with T, and we did determine that today was 28 days from the first spotting from the miscarriage. So, despite my continuing high hCg levels, I must have ovulated when I think I did, and I had a nice, short cycle this time around. Weird. You never know.

So, I'm off to the pharmacy to get bcps and I am starting today. That means that in approximately three weeks, I'm going to start injections.

It's been so long since my injection lesson, it makes me a little nervous. But I feel like I remember enough, and I also know there's a tutorial online from the RE's office. The only thing I remember about the medication, though, is that I'm starting with Lu*pron.

I guess I have to call my PGD coordinator tomorrow.