Ooohwee, what a month! Been tried, tested and tossed around this month! Creator has sent me a number of challenges that have had me working, praying, wondering and listening for lessons. I won't lie, I've also been raging, crying, questioning and shutting down.
Missing my golden opportunity last month was disappointing. Congratulating yet another woman in my support group on her pregnancy was hard. Hearing from one of my closest sistrens that she too was pregnant - now that...that was devastating.
Yes, I understand that sounds insensitive and shallow.
Each time a member of my on-line or my SF based SMC (Single Mothers by Choice) support group announces their pregnancy, I am overjoyed and congratulatory. After traveling this tumultuous journey with them, sharing the same challenges, getting each other through the hard times, when someone finally announces they are pregnant, it's as if we've all won; I'm thrilled and share in the excitement. At the same time however, I feel a tinge of envy, (ok, maybe a whole lot of envy) and deeply wish it was me announcing the good news.
Now take that experience - learning that someone you've never met or someone you may see once a month is pregnant - and replace the individual with someone who is one of your closest friends, whom you spend quite a bit of time with - and you're hit with a double-whammy. Double the emotion, double the envy, double the pain. This has been my month.
Having lunch after church one Sunday afternoon, my sistren says, "I have something to tell you guys." Not hesitating, I respond, " You're pregnant." Still not sure how I knew, but some how I called it, and was spot on. The next twenty minutes was spent discussing the who, what to do, next steps and settling her frazzled state. After she left and hurried off to work, the next twenty minutes were spent settling my frazzled state.
The next several weeks thereafter, I engulfed myself in a series of projects, trips and clever ways to dodge my sistrens' calls, emails and visits. Yes, I went to that place. I needed to escape the reality of the situation, avoid the emotional drama and live in my protective bubble.
Of course that bubble could stay afloat for only so long. I had sistrens riding my behind, checking in with me and pushing for me to deal with the inevitable. I finally had to do what I tried so hard to keep in - acknowledge and divulge my innermost feelings. Ugh!
When the sistrens and I check in at group meetings, we begin with a "three word check in" - a mental inventory of your emotions at that moment. That was easy. I was feeling: 1. frustrated 2. pissed and 3. jealous.
I was frustrated that someone like me, a woman who makes a conscious decision to get pregnant and goes to extreme measures to get pregnant is not getting pregnant, whereas my sistren, who was not trying to get pregnant, blinks and eye and conceives. Argh!
Pissed. Another freakin reminder of how long and how hard I've been trying to get pregnant and it's still not happening. Great! Now I'm going to have a pregnant sistren with a growing belly as yet another reminder that I'm NOT pregnant! Talk about in your face!
Jealous. Down right, plain and simple jelaousy. I want it to be me. I want to be the pregnant one. This was my path, my journey, my show. I made this decision. I was going to be the one to bring a baby into the sistrenhood. I was Baby Mama! Rain on my parade and steal my thunder!
Childish, I know. Me, me, me. It's all about me. Yes, I understand there is another sistren involved. And I know she is struggling as well. Getting pregnant may indeed have been my plan, but it wasn't hers. She has her own struggles. I am having a hard time with this and so is she. We are both troubled - differently.
I look for the lesson in all this. I just know that Creator has given my sistren a baby and not me for a reason. I wonder, question, pray and listen. She is my teacher now. At the same time, I cry, rage, and curse. I know that this experience will only bring us closer together and make us both stronger women. Damn, by the time I finally get pregnant and have a baby I will be wearing a blue leotard, red cape and have a "S" on my chest.
I love my sistren dearly and will support, share and send love to her every step of her journey. And I know she's doing the same for me.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
It's All About Control
Smiley Face.
Damn it!
For the first time in six months, I cursed the smiley face glowing on my ovulation pee stick. Ordinarily, I would've beamed as bright as the digital cheeky guy - his appearance meant that within hours I could proceed with operation Turkey Baste!
This morning however, was another story. This morning happened to be Saturday - a day in which my swimmers are locked behind closed doors, not to be reopened until Monday morning. We all know what that means - no swimmers, no fertilization, no chance of pregnancy this month. Damn!
After cursing the little guy and indignantly tossing him in the trash, I turned on myself. I paced my apartment's floors spewing words of a truck driver, beating myself up over my decision to not pick up my swimmers yesterday afternoon. Still, at this very moment, it makes me sick to my stomach that someone like me - Type A, freakishly organized, a planner, a note taker, a list maker - could possibly err on such a monumental move in this game.
How ever does a control freak like me screw this up? By letting go of the reigns. Even just a bit. Yes, last month, this spirited and care-free girl frolicked playfully day after day, enjoying life's pleasures off of hormones. I was reveling in a blissful state - free of mood swings, worry, fear and doubt. Positivity, good vibes and a "let's go with the flow" attitude was on my side and led the way.
While I acknowledged my growth, praised my new attitude and gave myself the "thumb's-up", I failed to keep track of my cycle. I was too busy patting myself on the back for a job well done, that I got lazy keeping a record of my temperature and was inconsistent when peeing on my ovulation sticks. So inconsistent in fact, that I never discovered when I actually ovulated. (Of course I had decided to not inseminate last month, though I knew it would be best to keep a record of what day I ovulated, as that could help to predict next month's day of ovulation.)
So much for letting go and giving up control. I totally screwed myself. It was my lackadaisy attitude that convinced myself to not stop off at the clinic to pick up my swimmers, before heading over the bridge for a show. Leave work on time (unheard of), drive 25 miles, fight rush hour traffic - "Nah, too much!" - my new and improved free-spirited mind told me. "Don't worry," "You won't ovulate over the weekend!" it continued to chime.
Well, mind and body were clearly not aligned and in balance as of 8am this morning. While my mind convinced me yesterday to keep driving and pass the clinic, my body decided that today, Saturday, Day #13 of my cycle, would be the day to ovulate. Great, just great! So, there goes this month. As I sit on the couch doing the ugly cry, my little guys are hanging out, frozen behind sealed doors on DeHaro Street, while my egg most likely travels its lonesome journey through one of my fallopian tubes.
At the end of the day, I still am a firm believer that "everything happens for a reason." I know, just as with the previous five attempts, that the timing is just not right. Creator doesn't want me to get pregnant this month. She has something else in store for me. Yeah, yeah, same story; different month. It's getting old and I know it's still the truth. I accept it and I'm still pissed, frustrated and uttering profanity from under my breath.
I'm sure there is a significant lesson somewhere in this all. I wait and listen to discover what meaning is to come of this botched step of the journey. There have been several mini-lessons along the way. What I have learned thus far is that I do prefer to proceed without hormones. I've learned that off of the hormones, my cycle is 28 days opposed to 31 and that I ovulate much earlier.
Most importantly, I've realized I need to find a balance between manipulation and fluidity. Early in the game, I discovered that having rigid control creates stress and emotional let-downs. Just recently however, I've learned that completely letting go may also lead to emotional let-downs and missed opportunities.
Getting pregnant in this manner requires some control. I truly have a narrow window of opportunity to get pregnant each month - timing is essential - and there are so many variables that need to be tended to and considered. So...whereas I know I need to let go and try not to control every step, at the same time, it is vital that I maintain a reasonable amount of control in order to not miss another opportunity.
In the words of the beautifully talented Janet Jackson -
This is a story about control, my control
Control of what I say, control of what I do
And this time I'm gonna do it my way
I hope you enjoy this as much as I do
Are we ready? I am? Cause it's all about control
And I've got lots of it
Damn it!
For the first time in six months, I cursed the smiley face glowing on my ovulation pee stick. Ordinarily, I would've beamed as bright as the digital cheeky guy - his appearance meant that within hours I could proceed with operation Turkey Baste!
This morning however, was another story. This morning happened to be Saturday - a day in which my swimmers are locked behind closed doors, not to be reopened until Monday morning. We all know what that means - no swimmers, no fertilization, no chance of pregnancy this month. Damn!
After cursing the little guy and indignantly tossing him in the trash, I turned on myself. I paced my apartment's floors spewing words of a truck driver, beating myself up over my decision to not pick up my swimmers yesterday afternoon. Still, at this very moment, it makes me sick to my stomach that someone like me - Type A, freakishly organized, a planner, a note taker, a list maker - could possibly err on such a monumental move in this game.
How ever does a control freak like me screw this up? By letting go of the reigns. Even just a bit. Yes, last month, this spirited and care-free girl frolicked playfully day after day, enjoying life's pleasures off of hormones. I was reveling in a blissful state - free of mood swings, worry, fear and doubt. Positivity, good vibes and a "let's go with the flow" attitude was on my side and led the way.
While I acknowledged my growth, praised my new attitude and gave myself the "thumb's-up", I failed to keep track of my cycle. I was too busy patting myself on the back for a job well done, that I got lazy keeping a record of my temperature and was inconsistent when peeing on my ovulation sticks. So inconsistent in fact, that I never discovered when I actually ovulated. (Of course I had decided to not inseminate last month, though I knew it would be best to keep a record of what day I ovulated, as that could help to predict next month's day of ovulation.)
So much for letting go and giving up control. I totally screwed myself. It was my lackadaisy attitude that convinced myself to not stop off at the clinic to pick up my swimmers, before heading over the bridge for a show. Leave work on time (unheard of), drive 25 miles, fight rush hour traffic - "Nah, too much!" - my new and improved free-spirited mind told me. "Don't worry," "You won't ovulate over the weekend!" it continued to chime.
Well, mind and body were clearly not aligned and in balance as of 8am this morning. While my mind convinced me yesterday to keep driving and pass the clinic, my body decided that today, Saturday, Day #13 of my cycle, would be the day to ovulate. Great, just great! So, there goes this month. As I sit on the couch doing the ugly cry, my little guys are hanging out, frozen behind sealed doors on DeHaro Street, while my egg most likely travels its lonesome journey through one of my fallopian tubes.
At the end of the day, I still am a firm believer that "everything happens for a reason." I know, just as with the previous five attempts, that the timing is just not right. Creator doesn't want me to get pregnant this month. She has something else in store for me. Yeah, yeah, same story; different month. It's getting old and I know it's still the truth. I accept it and I'm still pissed, frustrated and uttering profanity from under my breath.
I'm sure there is a significant lesson somewhere in this all. I wait and listen to discover what meaning is to come of this botched step of the journey. There have been several mini-lessons along the way. What I have learned thus far is that I do prefer to proceed without hormones. I've learned that off of the hormones, my cycle is 28 days opposed to 31 and that I ovulate much earlier.
Most importantly, I've realized I need to find a balance between manipulation and fluidity. Early in the game, I discovered that having rigid control creates stress and emotional let-downs. Just recently however, I've learned that completely letting go may also lead to emotional let-downs and missed opportunities.
Getting pregnant in this manner requires some control. I truly have a narrow window of opportunity to get pregnant each month - timing is essential - and there are so many variables that need to be tended to and considered. So...whereas I know I need to let go and try not to control every step, at the same time, it is vital that I maintain a reasonable amount of control in order to not miss another opportunity.
In the words of the beautifully talented Janet Jackson -
This is a story about control, my control
Control of what I say, control of what I do
And this time I'm gonna do it my way
I hope you enjoy this as much as I do
Are we ready? I am? Cause it's all about control
And I've got lots of it
Friday, February 25, 2011
Gone Fishin'
So the at-home sexy time with syringe was just as unsuccessful as the previous five doctor-assisted IUI attempts. No worries, I'm not blaming 5696. It was our first date and we're just starting to get to know each other.
Surprisingly, even after another failed attempt, I've been in a remarkable mood this month. Really, I have. Astounding, yes, I know. It took my Sistren Sandy to point out to me that perhaps I've been feeling pleasant and upbeat because I opted to not take hormones this month. Dagnamit, that's got to be it!
Yes, indeed, this month I decided to not inseminate and therefor not take the ovulatory stimulant, Clomid. For the first time in four months, I feel stress-free, content and above all, free! Wow, what a difference! I can't begin to explain how different a person I have been this month! I've also been attending the East Bay Church with Sistrens Chrissy, Cil and Azh, and that's been positive and uplifting. I've been going to bed earlier, reading more and simply enjoying life. Incredible!
With a heavy heart, I decided to not inseminate this month. Though I'm a little sad and disappointed that I had to press pause on operation "Baby-Making" this month, the reasons for doing so were important to me. I needed to give myself time to pursue possibilities, play a bit, and now I'm realizing, time to take a break from the drugs. Everything happens for a reason, right? Had I not decided to take this month off, I would never had discovered how detrimental the Clomid was on my attitude, state of being and pyhsical body.
In my time off the drugs (geesh, I sound like an addict), I've been able to get back to the gym, dance with passion, make the decision to compete in solos, and spend time dating and having fun with a "special friend." I also visited San Francisco Kaiser's Endocrinologist, Dr. Huang to discuss Operation Turkey-Baste's next steps.
Dr Huang, is the specialist my gynecologist recommended I see, when I started this journey. I wasn't able to schedule an appointment with him however, as he is one of only two endocrinologists in San Francisco - he's apparently the better of the two, I'm now learning.
Since Dr. Huang was booked solid for several months, I settled with Dr. Feigenbaum, the "left over" physician. I remember the day I arrived at his Geary Blvd. office - hopeful, inspired and excited to get my journey started. He began with a series of personal questions, several of which I later realized were inappropriate and took offense to. In so many ways, he insinuated that I was promiscuous, carried an STD and requested I take a pregnancy test since I had skipped a period while traveling for six weeks in Indonesia. I sensed that he did not approve of my decision to become a single mother and I asked if he would be asking the same questions and giving the same recommendations to a married woman who sat in his office with her partner. After fumbling over his words and attempting to redeem himself, I left his office discouraged, scared and sought refuge, crying, in the parking lot. After such a negative experience, it's no wonder I never returned to SF Kaiser for my inseminations.
I did however, return recently to meet with Dr. Huang, whom I felt instantly comfortable with and deeply appreciated his professional and patient demeanor. We discussed next steps of mission make-a-baby. I explained that I had had five unsuccessful IUI's and wanted to know whether I should pursue more evasive procedures. He clearly explained my options, posing no judgement and offering no personal suggestions. My next option, should I chose, would be to go with hormone injections, in which I would inject myself at home, with a daily dose of hormones and return to the clinic frequently to monitor the growth of follicles and egg development. The costs are high - $1500 a cycle. Add that to the cost of sperm -$650 - yowzers!
Dr. Huang also offered to take a sonogram of my uterus to determine whether there were any problems, such as fibroids, that could be hindering my chances of getting pregnant. A chance to see a picture of my uterus!? I was totally game!
Dr. Huang led me down the hall to a room wallpapered with posters of "the cycle of life," and a sonogram machine resting in the center of the room. A female nurse remained in the room as Dr. Huang conducted the procedure. He inserted a long, narrow speculum into me and miraculously, on the screen, I could see the insides of my uterus! Simply amazing! He gently maneuvered the wand around and showed me both of my ovaries. Examining the small television screen, he counted the darker, fuzzier spots on each ovary, which turned out to be the follicles growing on each - 9 on the right side and five on the left - both good numbers (he hopped for at least five on each).
After the exam, Dr. Huang was happy to report that all appeared normal. He reviewed by next-step options with me once again. I explained to him that I was considering trying to conceive naturally (or as naturally as this progress could possibly be) the next time around, as I think my positive mental attitude, off the drugs, could be a benefit to my physical state. Dr. Huang was supportive of my decision and encouraged me to return to SF Kaiser to continue my inseminations.
So, the HSG proved that my tubes were clear, and now this sonogram determined that my uterus is healthy as well. All systems go, once again! Though the time off has been good for me, I'm looking forward to getting back to inseminating next month and date #2 with 5696. Until then, you can find me reveling in my blissful state, taking it easy and maybe even doing some fishing! haha
Surprisingly, even after another failed attempt, I've been in a remarkable mood this month. Really, I have. Astounding, yes, I know. It took my Sistren Sandy to point out to me that perhaps I've been feeling pleasant and upbeat because I opted to not take hormones this month. Dagnamit, that's got to be it!
Yes, indeed, this month I decided to not inseminate and therefor not take the ovulatory stimulant, Clomid. For the first time in four months, I feel stress-free, content and above all, free! Wow, what a difference! I can't begin to explain how different a person I have been this month! I've also been attending the East Bay Church with Sistrens Chrissy, Cil and Azh, and that's been positive and uplifting. I've been going to bed earlier, reading more and simply enjoying life. Incredible!
With a heavy heart, I decided to not inseminate this month. Though I'm a little sad and disappointed that I had to press pause on operation "Baby-Making" this month, the reasons for doing so were important to me. I needed to give myself time to pursue possibilities, play a bit, and now I'm realizing, time to take a break from the drugs. Everything happens for a reason, right? Had I not decided to take this month off, I would never had discovered how detrimental the Clomid was on my attitude, state of being and pyhsical body.
In my time off the drugs (geesh, I sound like an addict), I've been able to get back to the gym, dance with passion, make the decision to compete in solos, and spend time dating and having fun with a "special friend." I also visited San Francisco Kaiser's Endocrinologist, Dr. Huang to discuss Operation Turkey-Baste's next steps.
Dr Huang, is the specialist my gynecologist recommended I see, when I started this journey. I wasn't able to schedule an appointment with him however, as he is one of only two endocrinologists in San Francisco - he's apparently the better of the two, I'm now learning.
Since Dr. Huang was booked solid for several months, I settled with Dr. Feigenbaum, the "left over" physician. I remember the day I arrived at his Geary Blvd. office - hopeful, inspired and excited to get my journey started. He began with a series of personal questions, several of which I later realized were inappropriate and took offense to. In so many ways, he insinuated that I was promiscuous, carried an STD and requested I take a pregnancy test since I had skipped a period while traveling for six weeks in Indonesia. I sensed that he did not approve of my decision to become a single mother and I asked if he would be asking the same questions and giving the same recommendations to a married woman who sat in his office with her partner. After fumbling over his words and attempting to redeem himself, I left his office discouraged, scared and sought refuge, crying, in the parking lot. After such a negative experience, it's no wonder I never returned to SF Kaiser for my inseminations.
I did however, return recently to meet with Dr. Huang, whom I felt instantly comfortable with and deeply appreciated his professional and patient demeanor. We discussed next steps of mission make-a-baby. I explained that I had had five unsuccessful IUI's and wanted to know whether I should pursue more evasive procedures. He clearly explained my options, posing no judgement and offering no personal suggestions. My next option, should I chose, would be to go with hormone injections, in which I would inject myself at home, with a daily dose of hormones and return to the clinic frequently to monitor the growth of follicles and egg development. The costs are high - $1500 a cycle. Add that to the cost of sperm -$650 - yowzers!
Dr. Huang also offered to take a sonogram of my uterus to determine whether there were any problems, such as fibroids, that could be hindering my chances of getting pregnant. A chance to see a picture of my uterus!? I was totally game!
Dr. Huang led me down the hall to a room wallpapered with posters of "the cycle of life," and a sonogram machine resting in the center of the room. A female nurse remained in the room as Dr. Huang conducted the procedure. He inserted a long, narrow speculum into me and miraculously, on the screen, I could see the insides of my uterus! Simply amazing! He gently maneuvered the wand around and showed me both of my ovaries. Examining the small television screen, he counted the darker, fuzzier spots on each ovary, which turned out to be the follicles growing on each - 9 on the right side and five on the left - both good numbers (he hopped for at least five on each).
After the exam, Dr. Huang was happy to report that all appeared normal. He reviewed by next-step options with me once again. I explained to him that I was considering trying to conceive naturally (or as naturally as this progress could possibly be) the next time around, as I think my positive mental attitude, off the drugs, could be a benefit to my physical state. Dr. Huang was supportive of my decision and encouraged me to return to SF Kaiser to continue my inseminations.
So, the HSG proved that my tubes were clear, and now this sonogram determined that my uterus is healthy as well. All systems go, once again! Though the time off has been good for me, I'm looking forward to getting back to inseminating next month and date #2 with 5696. Until then, you can find me reveling in my blissful state, taking it easy and maybe even doing some fishing! haha
Friday, January 21, 2011
DIY!
"Always wear insulated gloves and protective eye wear when opening the tank or handling specimens."
Yikes! What have I gotten myself into!?
As I read step #2, explaining how to remove my swimmers from their cozy tank, I began to second guess my decision to perform my own "Do-It-Yourself" home insemination.
The decision to home turkey baste actually fell into place for a number of reasons. First, I happened to ovulate on a Sunday. Kaiser takes the day of from inseminations on Sundays and the following Monday was a holiday. Next, when I called the sperm bank to place and order for my NEW donor's specimens, I was told that most of his IUI vials were in quarantine until March. By protocol, all specimens are held in quarantine for six months before being made available to women. By doing so, the bank is able to test the quality of the sperm and verify that the lil guys are STD and HIV free.
Donor 5696 had only one IUI vial (the kind used by the docs), though he had a handful of ICI vials (the do-it-yourself kind), so I snagged one of each. Guess my new guy may be quite popular with the ladies??? I'm certainly a fan!
After my disappointment with 6310 - the four failed attempts and his photograph not living up to my fantasy image - I opted to change donors. I ordered two videos and one photograph of potential donor replacements. I'm SO thankful I did so, as I wasn't impressed with one video and horrified with the photograph. Fortunately, however, I was pleasantly surprised with 5696's interview!
Very few donors have videos available, so this was a real treat! Though 5696 didn't quite meet my clipboard criteria - being a few inches shy of 6' and having geeky computer interests - I absolutely fell in love with his words and simply adore him! He's definitely not a Chip-n-Dale hunk, nor does he have the swag of LL Cool J. I probably wouldn't be drawn to him in a crowded room either. Watching his relaxed, easy-going composure however, and listening to his gentle, soft-spoken words, I found myself sighing heavily and and saying, "AWWWW!" Total teddy-bear quality!
What sealed the deal for me was his response to the interviewer when he was asked if he had any words for the families he help to create. Sweetly, he expressed that he hoped everyone was happy, and that hopefully the families were a "little brown." That made me giggle! He went onto explain that he hopes to see more mixed-racial families, like himself (He's Japanese and African-American). Right there! That's what got me! Having a multi-racial baby, like myself, was one of my #1 desires. To hear that he too appreciated, valued and honored families of mix race, that closed the deal for me!
So, my first date with 5696 turned out to be a late night rendez-vous, starting off in the kitchen and ending in the bedroom;) Initially, I had planned to have the sistrens over and make the whole deal a family affair, but when I got home late Saturday night and peed on a stick, the lil smiley guy beamed up at me. I figured I'd go ahead and get started since I had a lot going on the next day and didn't think I'd have an opportunity to lay down for two hours after the deed, like the directions indicated.
The nice thing about this date was that I got to stay in my pj's and I didn't need to fuss with my hair or make-up! I did however, need "insulated gloves and protective eye wear." Hmm, where was I gonna get lab equipment at 1 o'clock in the morning??? I had to settle on the closest alternatives - my $40 eyeglasses purchased on the street corner in Indonesia and the striped, cotton pair of gloves I picked up at Target for 2 bucks. I was quite the spectacle in my pj's, robe, and gloves!
Once I was in my protective gear, I sliced through the packaging tape that sealed the box closed, lifted the styrofoam padding off the top and gawked at the metal container nestled at the bottom box, wedged between foam padding. It appeared to be a small, slender helium tank or some kind of torpedo that may be launched from a submarine. I was to "lift the canister slowly" and warned in dark bold letters, "Do not Twist!" (Exclamation point included!) Yikes, maybe it would self destruct!?
Slowly and steadily, I lifted the tank by its handle, straight up and out of the box, twice its height. I gently set it down on the tiled kitchen floor, read the directions for the 15th time, cut open the zip tie and caressingly opened the lid. As I did so, creamy white vapor came seeming out, reminding me of creepy Halloween fog or the cheesy smoke that chokes you at a middle school dance.
I let the little puffs of smoke rise and looked into the dark, narrow opening of the tank, only about two inches in diameter. I can't see down to the bottom as the mini tunnel is dark and swirling gases lie lazily at the bottom. Step #6 says I am to pull up on the "cane" to remove the specimen form the canister. Hooked over the side I notice a thin metal candy cane that I presume is the "cane." With a gloved finger, I quickly tap the metal cane to see if it's too cold to handle. My finely insulated gloves tell me that it's safe to pull up on the device.
Carefully, I pull up on the metal cane and hanging at its bottom are my two vials of swimmers, stacked on top of each other, in a metal holder, attached to the cane. I understand now, they were simply secured by the cane, suspended in the freezing cold abyss. They are hissing and sparking little cracks and pops. Thawing Step #2 says to place the specimen on a counter top for one minute to allow the hissing sound to stop. Ok, sounds like a good idea.
Holding the little firecracker far away from my body, I carefully stand the vials, still in their holder, on the counter top. I turn to prepare the lil guys bath. I fill a cereal bowl with warm water and take out a sandwich sized zip-lock baggie. After the hissing stops, I pick up the metal holder and try to remove the vial labeled "ICI." It won't budge. I try several more times, and start to get discouraged. I don't want to tug too hard or hold on too long for fear of burning my fingers on the dry ice particles still visible on the containers. I summon up my courage and on the fifth try, pry the vial off its holder. Yay, success!
I place the miniature vial, not more than an inch in height and a pinky width in diameter, in the zip-lock bag and submerge the bag and vial in the bowl of hot water. While the lil guys warm and wake up from their cryogenic freeze, I return the second IUI vial to the canister for safe keeping. I lower the vial and cane back into the swirly gasses, seal the lid and place the tank bank into the padded box. I wasn't given an extra zip-tie to hold the tank's lid in place, so I make a mental note to drive the tank carefully back to the lab.
I allow 10 minutes to pass before removing the vial from the water and bag. It is no longer cool to the touch, telling me that it is safe to carry on to the next step. I gently tilt the vial back and forth and rotate it between my fingers to mix the specimen well. After this little massage, with the steady fingers of a CSI lab technician, I unscrew the cap and let it rest on the counter top. I have horrible fleeting thoughts of the vial tipping over and the sperm spilling over the counter top and on to the floor.
I chase the thought away, remove the plastic syringe from its wrapping and submerge it cautiously into the vial. Pulling back on the plunger I draw the semen into the syringe. Immediately, I turn the syringe over so that its nozzle points to the ceiling, hoping to not dribble and loose a few million sperm. I feel like a nurse ready to give an injection.
It's sexy time! I retire to the bedroom and climb into bed. There are a mere two steps to the insemination; rather clear and concise, compared to the six steps to remove the vials from the tank and the eight steps of thawing. Nope, these last two steps are plain and simple - insert syringe, push plunger in releasing sperm, and lay down! The syringe was much smaller than the syringes used at the doctor's office, did not have a catheter and was much like inserting a narrow tampon.
And the deed is done! That's it! No true turkeybaster was used at any point during the procedure. Sorry to disappoint! I fell fast asleep and when I woke the next morning, I cleaned up the evidence on the bed stand and in the kitchen-lab. Got another week to wait until I know whether 5696 and I hit it off. Will keep you all posted!
Yikes! What have I gotten myself into!?
As I read step #2, explaining how to remove my swimmers from their cozy tank, I began to second guess my decision to perform my own "Do-It-Yourself" home insemination.
The decision to home turkey baste actually fell into place for a number of reasons. First, I happened to ovulate on a Sunday. Kaiser takes the day of from inseminations on Sundays and the following Monday was a holiday. Next, when I called the sperm bank to place and order for my NEW donor's specimens, I was told that most of his IUI vials were in quarantine until March. By protocol, all specimens are held in quarantine for six months before being made available to women. By doing so, the bank is able to test the quality of the sperm and verify that the lil guys are STD and HIV free.
Donor 5696 had only one IUI vial (the kind used by the docs), though he had a handful of ICI vials (the do-it-yourself kind), so I snagged one of each. Guess my new guy may be quite popular with the ladies??? I'm certainly a fan!
After my disappointment with 6310 - the four failed attempts and his photograph not living up to my fantasy image - I opted to change donors. I ordered two videos and one photograph of potential donor replacements. I'm SO thankful I did so, as I wasn't impressed with one video and horrified with the photograph. Fortunately, however, I was pleasantly surprised with 5696's interview!
Very few donors have videos available, so this was a real treat! Though 5696 didn't quite meet my clipboard criteria - being a few inches shy of 6' and having geeky computer interests - I absolutely fell in love with his words and simply adore him! He's definitely not a Chip-n-Dale hunk, nor does he have the swag of LL Cool J. I probably wouldn't be drawn to him in a crowded room either. Watching his relaxed, easy-going composure however, and listening to his gentle, soft-spoken words, I found myself sighing heavily and and saying, "AWWWW!" Total teddy-bear quality!
What sealed the deal for me was his response to the interviewer when he was asked if he had any words for the families he help to create. Sweetly, he expressed that he hoped everyone was happy, and that hopefully the families were a "little brown." That made me giggle! He went onto explain that he hopes to see more mixed-racial families, like himself (He's Japanese and African-American). Right there! That's what got me! Having a multi-racial baby, like myself, was one of my #1 desires. To hear that he too appreciated, valued and honored families of mix race, that closed the deal for me!
So, my first date with 5696 turned out to be a late night rendez-vous, starting off in the kitchen and ending in the bedroom;) Initially, I had planned to have the sistrens over and make the whole deal a family affair, but when I got home late Saturday night and peed on a stick, the lil smiley guy beamed up at me. I figured I'd go ahead and get started since I had a lot going on the next day and didn't think I'd have an opportunity to lay down for two hours after the deed, like the directions indicated.
The nice thing about this date was that I got to stay in my pj's and I didn't need to fuss with my hair or make-up! I did however, need "insulated gloves and protective eye wear." Hmm, where was I gonna get lab equipment at 1 o'clock in the morning??? I had to settle on the closest alternatives - my $40 eyeglasses purchased on the street corner in Indonesia and the striped, cotton pair of gloves I picked up at Target for 2 bucks. I was quite the spectacle in my pj's, robe, and gloves!
Once I was in my protective gear, I sliced through the packaging tape that sealed the box closed, lifted the styrofoam padding off the top and gawked at the metal container nestled at the bottom box, wedged between foam padding. It appeared to be a small, slender helium tank or some kind of torpedo that may be launched from a submarine. I was to "lift the canister slowly" and warned in dark bold letters, "Do not Twist!" (Exclamation point included!) Yikes, maybe it would self destruct!?
Slowly and steadily, I lifted the tank by its handle, straight up and out of the box, twice its height. I gently set it down on the tiled kitchen floor, read the directions for the 15th time, cut open the zip tie and caressingly opened the lid. As I did so, creamy white vapor came seeming out, reminding me of creepy Halloween fog or the cheesy smoke that chokes you at a middle school dance.
I let the little puffs of smoke rise and looked into the dark, narrow opening of the tank, only about two inches in diameter. I can't see down to the bottom as the mini tunnel is dark and swirling gases lie lazily at the bottom. Step #6 says I am to pull up on the "cane" to remove the specimen form the canister. Hooked over the side I notice a thin metal candy cane that I presume is the "cane." With a gloved finger, I quickly tap the metal cane to see if it's too cold to handle. My finely insulated gloves tell me that it's safe to pull up on the device.
Carefully, I pull up on the metal cane and hanging at its bottom are my two vials of swimmers, stacked on top of each other, in a metal holder, attached to the cane. I understand now, they were simply secured by the cane, suspended in the freezing cold abyss. They are hissing and sparking little cracks and pops. Thawing Step #2 says to place the specimen on a counter top for one minute to allow the hissing sound to stop. Ok, sounds like a good idea.
Holding the little firecracker far away from my body, I carefully stand the vials, still in their holder, on the counter top. I turn to prepare the lil guys bath. I fill a cereal bowl with warm water and take out a sandwich sized zip-lock baggie. After the hissing stops, I pick up the metal holder and try to remove the vial labeled "ICI." It won't budge. I try several more times, and start to get discouraged. I don't want to tug too hard or hold on too long for fear of burning my fingers on the dry ice particles still visible on the containers. I summon up my courage and on the fifth try, pry the vial off its holder. Yay, success!
I place the miniature vial, not more than an inch in height and a pinky width in diameter, in the zip-lock bag and submerge the bag and vial in the bowl of hot water. While the lil guys warm and wake up from their cryogenic freeze, I return the second IUI vial to the canister for safe keeping. I lower the vial and cane back into the swirly gasses, seal the lid and place the tank bank into the padded box. I wasn't given an extra zip-tie to hold the tank's lid in place, so I make a mental note to drive the tank carefully back to the lab.
I allow 10 minutes to pass before removing the vial from the water and bag. It is no longer cool to the touch, telling me that it is safe to carry on to the next step. I gently tilt the vial back and forth and rotate it between my fingers to mix the specimen well. After this little massage, with the steady fingers of a CSI lab technician, I unscrew the cap and let it rest on the counter top. I have horrible fleeting thoughts of the vial tipping over and the sperm spilling over the counter top and on to the floor.
I chase the thought away, remove the plastic syringe from its wrapping and submerge it cautiously into the vial. Pulling back on the plunger I draw the semen into the syringe. Immediately, I turn the syringe over so that its nozzle points to the ceiling, hoping to not dribble and loose a few million sperm. I feel like a nurse ready to give an injection.
It's sexy time! I retire to the bedroom and climb into bed. There are a mere two steps to the insemination; rather clear and concise, compared to the six steps to remove the vials from the tank and the eight steps of thawing. Nope, these last two steps are plain and simple - insert syringe, push plunger in releasing sperm, and lay down! The syringe was much smaller than the syringes used at the doctor's office, did not have a catheter and was much like inserting a narrow tampon.
And the deed is done! That's it! No true turkeybaster was used at any point during the procedure. Sorry to disappoint! I fell fast asleep and when I woke the next morning, I cleaned up the evidence on the bed stand and in the kitchen-lab. Got another week to wait until I know whether 5696 and I hit it off. Will keep you all posted!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
All Systems Go!
HYSTEROSALPINGOGRAM
** FINDINGS **:
A hysterosalpingogram was performed by Dr. Samuel Yu, utilizing a
balloon tip catheter and water-soluble contrast media.
The uterine cavity is normal in configuration although somewhat
smaller than typically seen in overall size. No filling defects
are identified. Both fallopian tubes fill normally and are without
dilatation. There is free peritoneal spillage demonstrated
bilaterally.
...in other words, the plumbing is all good! Yipee! So, I can now say I haven't been the problem. Phew!
Sistren Asia accompanied me this past Monday to my HSG procedure. It was important for me to have someone accompany me, as I feared the possibility of having to deal with devastating news. Fortunately, that wasn't the case. Still, it was wonderful to have a supportive friend by my side, as the procedure was terribly painful - kicked oral gum surgery out of its long-lived ranking of my most painful experiences.
We arrived at the Radiology Department of Kasier RWC Monday afternoon. After a quick check-in, I was given a clear plastic bag, asked to enter a changing room, remove my clothing, and handed a confusing hospital robe to put on. Following the step-by-step directions conveniently posted on the dressing room wall, I slipped the robe on, tucked in the peep holes and headed into the cold, sterile exam room.
Unfortunately, Azh wasn't allowed into the exam room during the procedure. Instead, I had to suffer miserably, alone, while four medical examiners - one gynecologist, one X-ray technician, one student X- ray technician in training, and one radiologist, all donning cumbersome Xray vests, resembling heavy duty Kevlar vests, poked and prodded me as if I was a science experiment.
Emotionless, straight faced examiners...bright lights...clunky machinery on wheels, hanging from the ceiling and hovering over the raised, padded exam table...I felt as if I was a character on the X-Files that had been abducted from my bed, still in my pajamas, and beamed into the belly of a UFO. I half expected Moulder and Scully to barge in and rescue me from my fate.
Before climbing the step stool to lay upon the exam table, I decided to remove my socks, even though I was told I could leave them on. Though the room and metal edges of the table were freezing cold, I felt odd wearing nothing but my socks - kinda like keeping nothing but your socks on during sex...leave it to me to come up with that analogy!
As I stretched out on the exam table, my legs propped like a tent, I observed the technicians handing Dr. Yu, my gynecologist, the devices and materials needed for the procedure - a plastic catheter, longer than a ruler, and about the diameter of two cocktail straws, a solution in a clear, glass vial, and a whole lot of cotton balls. As Dr. Yu began to open up yet another fairly large package, wrapped in blue sterile cloths, I decided to look away, lay back, and try not to bare witness to any other unfriendly gadgets.
As with most visits to the gynecologist, the cold, metal speculum was inserted first. I was then prepped and swabbed with iodine. Similar to my inseminations, the catheter was inserted next. This catheter however, was longer, wider and not as flexible, so it's presence was not mistaken. Now, I was told to expect cramping similar to that of insemination, though they didn't mention the cramping would be prolonged and about a gazillion times worse! As my toes curled and my face cringed, I noticed the two technicians looking away, as if they couldn't bare to see the abuse.
Once the catheter was in place, the solution, a dye, was injected into the catheter. The dye then travels through the catheter and into my uterus and fallopian tubes. As this occurs, the television, hanging behind and above my head, is pulled into position for the examiners to view. Though I can't see the screen from my position, I feel the dye being released into my insides and watch the four solemn faces hovering above me, their eyes riveted on the machine.
With the catheter still in place, Dr. Yu at the foot of my bed, holding one end of the catheter, I am directed by the radiologist at my side, to rotate my hips left then right. Like a pig on a spit, I slowly, cautiously, turn my hips, trying to not disturb or exasperate the devices inside me. The sliding X-ray machine, hovering inches above my body, is manipulated up and down my lower body, offering the doctors visuals of the horrendous act.
Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, the radiologist directs Dr. Yu to rotate, adjust and move the catheter into various positions to view different angles of my uterus. For the first time, I audibly wince in pain, squeeze my eyes shut and wring my hands together. This goes on for what feels like an eternity before the whale of a machine is lifted and pushed aside. Dr. Yu finally extracts the catheter and I damn myself for looking to the side and witnessing the used equipment, tools, and cotton balls strewn across the rolling medical tray.
The technicians and radiologist excuse themselves from the room, never saying a word between them or to me. I feel a wealth of anxiety well up in me, as the silence of the room weighs in on my body. Does this silence mean bad news??? Dr. Yu hovers above me on the table, looking down at me. He explains that I'll most likely have some bleeding and can expect the dye to slowly leak and suggests I wear a sanitary napkin. Matter of factly, he continues on to say that, "Everything looks normal and there were no apparent blockages." Holy cow! Could you not have started with that???
Dr. Yu wishes me well, leaves the room and the technicians scramble back in. One hands me a towel to clean up with, the other hands me a pad the size of rolled up magazine. They direct me to the bathroom attached to the exam room and tell me to take my time changing. Hunched over, I slowly make my way across the room and close the bathroom door behind me.
Before I can even reach my hand into my plastic bag of clothing, tears stream down my face. Relief? Sure, perhaps. Though mostly, I felt violated. Standing alone, half naked, in a cold, sterile room, wiping up after a terribly evasive procedure, I couldn't focus on the good. With slow, premeditated movements, I get dressed, roll the soiled towel up in the robe, hand them to the technicians, and exit to find Asia patiently waiting for me.
Now, I am of course relieved, grateful and joyous to know that there are no blockages or problems. The peace of mind allows me to go forward, knowing that the first four, failed attempts weren't because of me. Makes me feel better knowing that perhaps Creator truly has this under control. I chose the wrong donor, and Creator knew that. So, all systems are a "go," there's only one way to move - forward!
** FINDINGS **:
A hysterosalpingogram was performed by Dr. Samuel Yu, utilizing a
balloon tip catheter and water-soluble contrast media.
The uterine cavity is normal in configuration although somewhat
smaller than typically seen in overall size. No filling defects
are identified. Both fallopian tubes fill normally and are without
dilatation. There is free peritoneal spillage demonstrated
bilaterally.
...in other words, the plumbing is all good! Yipee! So, I can now say I haven't been the problem. Phew!
Sistren Asia accompanied me this past Monday to my HSG procedure. It was important for me to have someone accompany me, as I feared the possibility of having to deal with devastating news. Fortunately, that wasn't the case. Still, it was wonderful to have a supportive friend by my side, as the procedure was terribly painful - kicked oral gum surgery out of its long-lived ranking of my most painful experiences.
We arrived at the Radiology Department of Kasier RWC Monday afternoon. After a quick check-in, I was given a clear plastic bag, asked to enter a changing room, remove my clothing, and handed a confusing hospital robe to put on. Following the step-by-step directions conveniently posted on the dressing room wall, I slipped the robe on, tucked in the peep holes and headed into the cold, sterile exam room.
Unfortunately, Azh wasn't allowed into the exam room during the procedure. Instead, I had to suffer miserably, alone, while four medical examiners - one gynecologist, one X-ray technician, one student X- ray technician in training, and one radiologist, all donning cumbersome Xray vests, resembling heavy duty Kevlar vests, poked and prodded me as if I was a science experiment.
Emotionless, straight faced examiners...bright lights...clunky machinery on wheels, hanging from the ceiling and hovering over the raised, padded exam table...I felt as if I was a character on the X-Files that had been abducted from my bed, still in my pajamas, and beamed into the belly of a UFO. I half expected Moulder and Scully to barge in and rescue me from my fate.
Before climbing the step stool to lay upon the exam table, I decided to remove my socks, even though I was told I could leave them on. Though the room and metal edges of the table were freezing cold, I felt odd wearing nothing but my socks - kinda like keeping nothing but your socks on during sex...leave it to me to come up with that analogy!
As I stretched out on the exam table, my legs propped like a tent, I observed the technicians handing Dr. Yu, my gynecologist, the devices and materials needed for the procedure - a plastic catheter, longer than a ruler, and about the diameter of two cocktail straws, a solution in a clear, glass vial, and a whole lot of cotton balls. As Dr. Yu began to open up yet another fairly large package, wrapped in blue sterile cloths, I decided to look away, lay back, and try not to bare witness to any other unfriendly gadgets.
As with most visits to the gynecologist, the cold, metal speculum was inserted first. I was then prepped and swabbed with iodine. Similar to my inseminations, the catheter was inserted next. This catheter however, was longer, wider and not as flexible, so it's presence was not mistaken. Now, I was told to expect cramping similar to that of insemination, though they didn't mention the cramping would be prolonged and about a gazillion times worse! As my toes curled and my face cringed, I noticed the two technicians looking away, as if they couldn't bare to see the abuse.
Once the catheter was in place, the solution, a dye, was injected into the catheter. The dye then travels through the catheter and into my uterus and fallopian tubes. As this occurs, the television, hanging behind and above my head, is pulled into position for the examiners to view. Though I can't see the screen from my position, I feel the dye being released into my insides and watch the four solemn faces hovering above me, their eyes riveted on the machine.
With the catheter still in place, Dr. Yu at the foot of my bed, holding one end of the catheter, I am directed by the radiologist at my side, to rotate my hips left then right. Like a pig on a spit, I slowly, cautiously, turn my hips, trying to not disturb or exasperate the devices inside me. The sliding X-ray machine, hovering inches above my body, is manipulated up and down my lower body, offering the doctors visuals of the horrendous act.
Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, the radiologist directs Dr. Yu to rotate, adjust and move the catheter into various positions to view different angles of my uterus. For the first time, I audibly wince in pain, squeeze my eyes shut and wring my hands together. This goes on for what feels like an eternity before the whale of a machine is lifted and pushed aside. Dr. Yu finally extracts the catheter and I damn myself for looking to the side and witnessing the used equipment, tools, and cotton balls strewn across the rolling medical tray.
The technicians and radiologist excuse themselves from the room, never saying a word between them or to me. I feel a wealth of anxiety well up in me, as the silence of the room weighs in on my body. Does this silence mean bad news??? Dr. Yu hovers above me on the table, looking down at me. He explains that I'll most likely have some bleeding and can expect the dye to slowly leak and suggests I wear a sanitary napkin. Matter of factly, he continues on to say that, "Everything looks normal and there were no apparent blockages." Holy cow! Could you not have started with that???
Dr. Yu wishes me well, leaves the room and the technicians scramble back in. One hands me a towel to clean up with, the other hands me a pad the size of rolled up magazine. They direct me to the bathroom attached to the exam room and tell me to take my time changing. Hunched over, I slowly make my way across the room and close the bathroom door behind me.
Before I can even reach my hand into my plastic bag of clothing, tears stream down my face. Relief? Sure, perhaps. Though mostly, I felt violated. Standing alone, half naked, in a cold, sterile room, wiping up after a terribly evasive procedure, I couldn't focus on the good. With slow, premeditated movements, I get dressed, roll the soiled towel up in the robe, hand them to the technicians, and exit to find Asia patiently waiting for me.
Now, I am of course relieved, grateful and joyous to know that there are no blockages or problems. The peace of mind allows me to go forward, knowing that the first four, failed attempts weren't because of me. Makes me feel better knowing that perhaps Creator truly has this under control. I chose the wrong donor, and Creator knew that. So, all systems are a "go," there's only one way to move - forward!
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
To Date or Not to Date...that is the question.
Dating whilst actively trying get pregnant.
Can it be done? Should it be done? How is it done?
These are the ponderings that pester and the moral questions that rudely invade my conscience in recent days.
"Can it done?" Yes, of course. "Can" simply determines whether one has the ability to carry out a physical or mental task. Sure, I can date. In other words, yes, I have the ability to date. It's like when a kid asks you, "Can I go to the bathroom?" "Well, I don't know can you?"
Now, the next question: "Should it be done?"
A year ago, when I decided to have a baby on my own, I answered "no" to this question. I signed a personal, mental contract with myself. I pledged to swear off men and relationships. It needed to be done. Dating and meeting someone new would only complicate my situation.
I gave myself time to grieve. I allowed myself to be sad, disappointed, upset. In the end, having a baby was more important than having a partner....So, it was settled - NO MEN!
It wasn't too difficult. Look the other way, don't take an interest, turn down opportunities. Kinda bitchy, yes. But really, I didn't want to get involved for fear of falling for someone and delaying my baby progress. My mind was made up. Operation Spirit Baby was to embark after returning from Indonesia - my final "hurrah" before motherhood.
As the Universe would have it, the mission was sabotaged, literally, the day after I returned home from Indonesia. Isn't it always the case - once you stop looking, the men appear out of nowhere. Perhaps it was my glowing tan and super relaxed, worry-free spirit, or maybe it was simply my "uninterest" in men that made me ooze confidence. Who knows. Whatever it was, I managed to attract a tall, dark, sexy man, who sauntered off a stage, slow danced the night away with me, and telephoned late the same evening to giggle and chat with me like high school kids till the wee hours of the morn.
Two weeks after our first "date", Operation Spirit Baby proceeded as scheduled - I underwent my first insemination. And so it went - emails, texts, surprise phone calls, a couple of detours to visit me before heading to LA from NY - all the while clocking in to inseminate each month.
Honestly, after visit #1, I wasn't putting money down that there would be another. The distance, situation, his career - they all appeared to be hurdles. But visit #2 came just in time for my birthday and visit #3 less than a month later - the days in between visits shorter and shorter each time.
Dating? Um, no. Given the circumstances - living on opposite coasts, rendezvous-ing perhaps once a month, spending brief moments of our lives together - this "relationship" can't be coined, in my opinion, "dating." Therefore, no contracts broken.
What has surfaced as a result of these "visits" however, are feelings associated with dating and forlorn puppy love. And they suck.
I've managed to fall into a pitiful pattern after each visit. Sad, lonely, vacant. Sharing my space, enjoying the company of another, having someone to cozy up with - they've all triggered me to remember what dating and relationship life is like. And I miss it.
I miss having a partner. I miss waking up next to someone. I miss "getting" someone and someone who "gets" me. I miss the companionship, love and attention. Heck, I'll say it, I miss the sex!
This longing made me wonder, for the first time along my journey - am I headed down the right path? If I miss a partner and relationship so much, have I truly made the right decision???
Over the weekend, that very question gave me a tremendous amount of anxiety. Wow, the panic. To doubt for the first time, a decision that took an extraordinary amount of time to accept, execute and follow through with - can you imagine? Golly, I was a wreck.
It wasn't until my dear sistrens reminded me of the power of "AND," that I realized the possibilities. All this time, along my journey, I've been telling myself I can have only one or the other - "You can either pursue a relationship or have a baby." Well, why not both? I'll admit, at first, yes, it sounds preposterous. (That's exactly why I swore to not date in the first place). Though, why should I ASSume that I won't find companionship or even love while trying to get pregnant...or even while I am pregnant? Worked for J.Lo in the Backup Plan, didn't it? hehe
Ok, ok, this isn't Hollywood. Perhaps meeting and committing to someone while trying to get pregnant may be a bit far fetched...AND...it is still a possibility.
So, I suppose I am breaking my contract. I'm going to allow myself to be open to the possibility of dating. I'm not saying I'm going to join match.com or post an ad in the personals, I'm simply revoking the pledge I made to myself. I am allowing myself to be open to possibilities.
Now, finally, for the last question..."How should it be done?"
I have absolutely no idea. One day at a time, I suppose. I find myself slowly getting into my analytical head again. As I daydream and hang on to the lingering memory of visit #3 and anticipate whether there will be a visit #4, I begin to wonder..."Should I tell him?" If yes, when? If I do, will I see him again? Do I want to risk not seeing him again? Or do I want to take the risk to find out if he is my Back Up Plan???
Oh, geesh, the mind is a creature of its own! Rest, dear brain, rest. I promise to take these next steps one at a time. I promise to do my best surrendering to the possibilities!
Can it be done? Should it be done? How is it done?
These are the ponderings that pester and the moral questions that rudely invade my conscience in recent days.
"Can it done?" Yes, of course. "Can" simply determines whether one has the ability to carry out a physical or mental task. Sure, I can date. In other words, yes, I have the ability to date. It's like when a kid asks you, "Can I go to the bathroom?" "Well, I don't know can you?"
Now, the next question: "Should it be done?"
A year ago, when I decided to have a baby on my own, I answered "no" to this question. I signed a personal, mental contract with myself. I pledged to swear off men and relationships. It needed to be done. Dating and meeting someone new would only complicate my situation.
I gave myself time to grieve. I allowed myself to be sad, disappointed, upset. In the end, having a baby was more important than having a partner....So, it was settled - NO MEN!
It wasn't too difficult. Look the other way, don't take an interest, turn down opportunities. Kinda bitchy, yes. But really, I didn't want to get involved for fear of falling for someone and delaying my baby progress. My mind was made up. Operation Spirit Baby was to embark after returning from Indonesia - my final "hurrah" before motherhood.
As the Universe would have it, the mission was sabotaged, literally, the day after I returned home from Indonesia. Isn't it always the case - once you stop looking, the men appear out of nowhere. Perhaps it was my glowing tan and super relaxed, worry-free spirit, or maybe it was simply my "uninterest" in men that made me ooze confidence. Who knows. Whatever it was, I managed to attract a tall, dark, sexy man, who sauntered off a stage, slow danced the night away with me, and telephoned late the same evening to giggle and chat with me like high school kids till the wee hours of the morn.
Two weeks after our first "date", Operation Spirit Baby proceeded as scheduled - I underwent my first insemination. And so it went - emails, texts, surprise phone calls, a couple of detours to visit me before heading to LA from NY - all the while clocking in to inseminate each month.
Honestly, after visit #1, I wasn't putting money down that there would be another. The distance, situation, his career - they all appeared to be hurdles. But visit #2 came just in time for my birthday and visit #3 less than a month later - the days in between visits shorter and shorter each time.
Dating? Um, no. Given the circumstances - living on opposite coasts, rendezvous-ing perhaps once a month, spending brief moments of our lives together - this "relationship" can't be coined, in my opinion, "dating." Therefore, no contracts broken.
What has surfaced as a result of these "visits" however, are feelings associated with dating and forlorn puppy love. And they suck.
I've managed to fall into a pitiful pattern after each visit. Sad, lonely, vacant. Sharing my space, enjoying the company of another, having someone to cozy up with - they've all triggered me to remember what dating and relationship life is like. And I miss it.
I miss having a partner. I miss waking up next to someone. I miss "getting" someone and someone who "gets" me. I miss the companionship, love and attention. Heck, I'll say it, I miss the sex!
This longing made me wonder, for the first time along my journey - am I headed down the right path? If I miss a partner and relationship so much, have I truly made the right decision???
Over the weekend, that very question gave me a tremendous amount of anxiety. Wow, the panic. To doubt for the first time, a decision that took an extraordinary amount of time to accept, execute and follow through with - can you imagine? Golly, I was a wreck.
It wasn't until my dear sistrens reminded me of the power of "AND," that I realized the possibilities. All this time, along my journey, I've been telling myself I can have only one or the other - "You can either pursue a relationship or have a baby." Well, why not both? I'll admit, at first, yes, it sounds preposterous. (That's exactly why I swore to not date in the first place). Though, why should I ASSume that I won't find companionship or even love while trying to get pregnant...or even while I am pregnant? Worked for J.Lo in the Backup Plan, didn't it? hehe
Ok, ok, this isn't Hollywood. Perhaps meeting and committing to someone while trying to get pregnant may be a bit far fetched...AND...it is still a possibility.
So, I suppose I am breaking my contract. I'm going to allow myself to be open to the possibility of dating. I'm not saying I'm going to join match.com or post an ad in the personals, I'm simply revoking the pledge I made to myself. I am allowing myself to be open to possibilities.
Now, finally, for the last question..."How should it be done?"
I have absolutely no idea. One day at a time, I suppose. I find myself slowly getting into my analytical head again. As I daydream and hang on to the lingering memory of visit #3 and anticipate whether there will be a visit #4, I begin to wonder..."Should I tell him?" If yes, when? If I do, will I see him again? Do I want to risk not seeing him again? Or do I want to take the risk to find out if he is my Back Up Plan???
Oh, geesh, the mind is a creature of its own! Rest, dear brain, rest. I promise to take these next steps one at a time. I promise to do my best surrendering to the possibilities!
Sunday, January 2, 2011
New Year, New Donor
A glance at the title should quickly answer the question you've all been wondering.
Not pregnant.
Two tests and a right-on-schedule period confirmed today that I'm not ringing in the New Year with a bun in the oven. One would think that with a foot long catheter delivering sperm closer than any man's penis could possibly reach, during a woman's most fertile time of her cycle, that at least one of the 15-20 million sperm would fertilize an egg. Huh, go figure.
Guess that goes to show that making a baby is more miracle than medicine.
Well, out with the old and in with the new! On this second day of 2011, I have already requested a new hormone medication, placed a called to Kaiser to schedule the HSG procedure, and chosen a new donor! Yes, I've been a busy bee.
At my last insemination, the nurse practitioner suggested I consider switching from Clomid to Femara, which like Clomid, stimulates the growth of multiple follicles, hence more eggs. Since Clomid did nothing but make me super gasey for five days and give the impression that I have a boulder traveling through one of my fallopian tubes, I'm down with trying a new drug. Apparently Femara has less side effects as well - no major mood swings. Gee, I wonder why the docs didn't prescribe it first? I could've done without the emotional high and lows. Though, who's to say that was all due to the Clomid?
I also left a message with Kaiser to schedule the HSG procedure, which was also recommended by the nurse practitioner. A hysterosalpingogram test (HSG) is often recommended for women who are having trouble getting pregnant. It is essentially an X-ray of the uterus and fallopian tubes. A dye is injected into the uterus, very much like an insemination. If the dye flows freely into the fallopian tubes, than there is no apparent blockage. Other than uncomfortable cramping, the procedure should not be too painful. Physical pain however, is not what I worried about. I'm more concerned about the dye not being able to flow freely. I get filled with anxiety and worry just thinking about potential problems.
I've also decided to change donors! As mentioned in my previous blog, I was disappointed after seeing my donor's picture. I also stated however, that his looks are not my primary reason for changing donors. There are several. One, my doc recommended I change donors - 6310's sperm just may not be compatible with my insides. Two, I think not getting pregnant in four attempts may be Creator's way of telling me that 6310 is simply not the one for me. Three, change can be good.
So, I've pretty much settled on another donor from the same sperm bank. Don't want to say too much about him just yet, though I will say that I was pleasantly surprised by his video interview. Yes, I said video interview!!! I actually got to see and hear a short four minute interview of my new potential donor. In the interview, he spoke about himself, his ambitions, and reasons for being a donor. Though his profile on paper didn't quite match all of my "criteria," hearing him speak, watching his body language and connecting with his words made up for the few inches he lacks in height and his interests in "computers and video games."
So, the wheels are turning. I can't say that I'm not disappointed to find out that I'm not pregnant - again. I am. Though I think each time I am less and less disappointed. Not sure what that means. Am I building up a tolerance to my emotions? Am I toughening up? Am I expecting less? Am I being realistic? Who knows. All I know is that whatever the answer, I feel healthier - mentally, so to speak. I know spirit baby will come - just on his own time. I am learning to surrender.
Surrender. Let it go, give it up, let it be. I can't control it.
Thank you Mama Rosa for teaching me the lesson of surrendering. I am learning...and practicing.
Well loved ones, many blessings in 2011. Thank you for your prayers. Please say another for me - one that I not ovulate on Monday, January 17th. My body has been quite religious about ovulating on the 16th day of my cycle - that day turns out to be the 17th of this month - a holiday - which means all Kaiser ob/gyn departments take the day off to honor Mr. MLK Jr. instead of performing inseminations and assisting needy women like me who wish to get pregnant. If I ovulate on schedule this month, I may loose my opportunity. That makes me sad, AND I'm also trying to surrender...let go, give it up, and let be.
Peace and Prayers.
T
Not pregnant.
Two tests and a right-on-schedule period confirmed today that I'm not ringing in the New Year with a bun in the oven. One would think that with a foot long catheter delivering sperm closer than any man's penis could possibly reach, during a woman's most fertile time of her cycle, that at least one of the 15-20 million sperm would fertilize an egg. Huh, go figure.
Guess that goes to show that making a baby is more miracle than medicine.
Well, out with the old and in with the new! On this second day of 2011, I have already requested a new hormone medication, placed a called to Kaiser to schedule the HSG procedure, and chosen a new donor! Yes, I've been a busy bee.
At my last insemination, the nurse practitioner suggested I consider switching from Clomid to Femara, which like Clomid, stimulates the growth of multiple follicles, hence more eggs. Since Clomid did nothing but make me super gasey for five days and give the impression that I have a boulder traveling through one of my fallopian tubes, I'm down with trying a new drug. Apparently Femara has less side effects as well - no major mood swings. Gee, I wonder why the docs didn't prescribe it first? I could've done without the emotional high and lows. Though, who's to say that was all due to the Clomid?
I also left a message with Kaiser to schedule the HSG procedure, which was also recommended by the nurse practitioner. A hysterosalpingogram test (HSG) is often recommended for women who are having trouble getting pregnant. It is essentially an X-ray of the uterus and fallopian tubes. A dye is injected into the uterus, very much like an insemination. If the dye flows freely into the fallopian tubes, than there is no apparent blockage. Other than uncomfortable cramping, the procedure should not be too painful. Physical pain however, is not what I worried about. I'm more concerned about the dye not being able to flow freely. I get filled with anxiety and worry just thinking about potential problems.
I've also decided to change donors! As mentioned in my previous blog, I was disappointed after seeing my donor's picture. I also stated however, that his looks are not my primary reason for changing donors. There are several. One, my doc recommended I change donors - 6310's sperm just may not be compatible with my insides. Two, I think not getting pregnant in four attempts may be Creator's way of telling me that 6310 is simply not the one for me. Three, change can be good.
So, I've pretty much settled on another donor from the same sperm bank. Don't want to say too much about him just yet, though I will say that I was pleasantly surprised by his video interview. Yes, I said video interview!!! I actually got to see and hear a short four minute interview of my new potential donor. In the interview, he spoke about himself, his ambitions, and reasons for being a donor. Though his profile on paper didn't quite match all of my "criteria," hearing him speak, watching his body language and connecting with his words made up for the few inches he lacks in height and his interests in "computers and video games."
So, the wheels are turning. I can't say that I'm not disappointed to find out that I'm not pregnant - again. I am. Though I think each time I am less and less disappointed. Not sure what that means. Am I building up a tolerance to my emotions? Am I toughening up? Am I expecting less? Am I being realistic? Who knows. All I know is that whatever the answer, I feel healthier - mentally, so to speak. I know spirit baby will come - just on his own time. I am learning to surrender.
Surrender. Let it go, give it up, let it be. I can't control it.
Thank you Mama Rosa for teaching me the lesson of surrendering. I am learning...and practicing.
Well loved ones, many blessings in 2011. Thank you for your prayers. Please say another for me - one that I not ovulate on Monday, January 17th. My body has been quite religious about ovulating on the 16th day of my cycle - that day turns out to be the 17th of this month - a holiday - which means all Kaiser ob/gyn departments take the day off to honor Mr. MLK Jr. instead of performing inseminations and assisting needy women like me who wish to get pregnant. If I ovulate on schedule this month, I may loose my opportunity. That makes me sad, AND I'm also trying to surrender...let go, give it up, and let be.
Peace and Prayers.
T
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