It’s official: 2013 is the worst year of my life.
Yesterday was my first day at a new job–the first time I ever got non-freelance work as a graphic designer, something I’ve worked hard at the last two years. I got the call from my agency on Monday: a 3-month gig, possibly temp-to-perm. I paused before accepting: how would I juggle a new job and the demands of an IVF protocol? I accepted, figuring IVF wouldn’t start for another month anyway. I could earn some much-needed money and quit due to medical reasons.
Unfortunately, it was also my last. I was leaving for the day at 2pm for our first IVF consultation. As I walked through the parking lot, I listened to a voicemail my uncle in L.A. left five minutes earlier, saying that my mum was trying to get in touch with me, and to please give him a call on his cell phone.
My grandmother had a massive stroke and is in a coma. Her brain is filled with blood and they’ve switched off life support. The defibrillator in her heart means her heart is beating strong, but she is brain dead. No one knows how long it will take for her to die, it could be today or in a week.
But it means I will be flying to London soon. And between that and IVF, DH and I decided the proper thing to do is to quit the temp-to-perm job. I made the call to the agency. I would rather sacrifice this one gig through them than my reputation. It was the right thing to do. An hour later, I met with Dr. D in our first IVF consultation.
The good news is that I really like him. He’s originally from Poland–maybe it’s a European connection we have, but I thought he was funny, warm, and really listened. He also didn’t push IVF, and thought the fact that I did conceive naturally (and quickly) meant IUI was a possibility too. He is also the only doctor to have taken my thyroid concerns seriously–to recap, in 2010 my TSH was 1.66; 9 weeks after my D&C it was borderline high at 4.6, which I always thought may have been higher when pregnant. I’ve always wondered if my stressed-out thyroid that caused my miscarriage–my TSH has been measured twice since and is around 2.68. Dr. D told me that whereas it is unlikely my thyroid caused my miscarriage, it is a fact that miscarriages seem to happen more for women whose thyroid acts up in pregnancy. He believes a TSH level of under 2.5 is best, so I would need to take a low dose of thyroid hormones when I get pregnant. He has also recommended I take baby aspirin daily as this helps with blood flow to the uterus and ovaries.
The bad news is that I still only have a total of six antral follicles. I am 35, but my ovaries are 40 years old. I definitely have DOR. He says I have a 3% chance of conceiving naturally in a given cycle; Clomid + IUI would give me a 7-8% chance; and IVF only a 30-40% chance, which is lower than the 50% chance most 35-year-olds have, and considerably lower than the 60-70% chance Dr. A said I’d have. Dr. D was quick to point out that his is a very conservative estimate of success.
Next steps are having blood tests for STDs (as required by the state of California), but also karyotyping and genetic testing for Fragile X, because my AMH is so very low. Then, on CD7-10, I have to have a hysterosonogram and an HSG: today I’m at 9dpo, which means IVF has to be postponed for a month because I will be in London.
Meanwhile, more pregnancy announcements, birth announcements, and first days of school. I am dying of misery. I hate that another woman’s happiness brings me so much pain. Miscarriage and infertility have changed me. I have become such an ugly person. I’m stuck on this ugly, lonely, suffocating shipwreck, and every week I watch, longingly, as others’ ships set sail with their precious cargo on board. As any woman who has previously had a miscarriage knows, that next BFP is only the first hurdle, fraught with its own unique fears. Getting a BFP is like weighing anchor–off to a good start, but a long voyage ahead.
You ladies know who you are. Forgive the radio silence.
Nine days past ovulation. I’m not getting my hopes up and fully expect to get my period Sunday or Monday. Fuck having hot and tingly nipples again. Fuck having higher temps again this morning. Three percent chance of conceiving naturally? The odds are so low of it happening once for me, I can’t believe it would happen twice or even three times.
I lie. Of course my hopes are up. I’ve never wanted something this much, worked at it, and failed again and again and again, knowing that not only do I not have the rest of my life to work at it, but I have less time than most women my age.
I am so despondent. And now that I am going to London, it will be hard to hide my new crazy diet, my many supplements from my mother and the rest of my family. I’m going to have to tell them, bracing myself for the I told you so‘s.
I also can’t stop thinking about how my grandmother’s imminent demise is timed with the possibility of new life.
Please…
Oh Lauren, I am so sorry about your grandmother. I will be thinking of you this month and hoping you have safe travels and a chance to gather your thoughts in the midst of this storm.
Thank you xx
So much to bear in such a short time–I am so sorry about your grandmother. When I lost my Grannie Ainsworth, it shook my world. I went to her with EVERYTHING. I still miss her horribly. With all that is going on around you, you should always follow your heart regardless of what comes of it. Don’t push yourself too hard to do anything before you’re ready either… I truly believe all things are possible and when one door closes another opens. There will be work for you somewhere–and it is my hope that it will be a permanent position that you will enjoy going to–and not just something to help scrape by until something else comes along because that can be a total drag. (((Hugs to you))) and take care.
Tina.
I really needed to hear this, Tina. Thank you. It means a lot coming from you, someone who has always supported my work!! Forever grateful to you xoxoxoxoxox
Hi Lauren, I’ve not been able to respond to your posts lately as I’ve wanted (work being kind of crazy and I’ve had a cold and just go to bed as soon as I can!) But- I’ve been keenly empathizing with you over the last couple weeks as I can FEEL your pain and sorry, and also your turmoil, coming through your words. I also feel this immense strength coming from you, despite all that you are going through. You are truly demonstrating the strength of character that is revealed sometimes when people suffer. All this to say that- while you are struggling and feeling awful about your inability to be there for others in your life that are pregnant or having babies, and really disliking the person you’ve become, I can say with assurance that you will NOT always be that person. Your character, at your core, remains you- Lauren. And it’s being tested more than ever before, and so now you’re finding out your own limits. We all learn about our limits when we’re tested- regardless of whether it’s infertility, depression, job loss, relationship instability, and yes, limits exist when we have children. The critical piece is how we cope when we’re touching our limits. It’s not always perfect right away, but it’s like learning anything new- we test it out, we try to cope one way, it might fail, we try another way, it might cause reactions in people we care about, so we experiment until we land on something that may not be perfect, but it works, at least for the short term. And then we adapt again when we need to, but it’s more of an evolution and a process. I’m not being flip, I’m speaking from my own experience and that of others that I’ve been involved in infertility with. The good news is that you are clearly a person who, while struggling with your imits, you are ACTUALLY engaging them- you’re not ignoring them, or denying them, or insisting that everyone in the world is wrong while you’re right, or demanding that the world change itself to fit you. This doesn’t make it easier (sorry) but if there’s any peace you can hold in your heart, I hope that it’s to know that you WILL come out the other side, one way or another, and you WILL like the person you become because you’ll be able to be the rock for others that need it while their limits (whatever they are) are being tested. You are not permanently broken.
An amazing comment, which I have already emailed you about.
I’m so sorry about your grandmother, Lauren. It’s always such a blow when something like this happens- it’s so sudden. Take small comfort (and it will be small, I know…) in the fact that I’m sure she has lived a long and amazing life, and this probably happened suddenly and painlessly.
I’m so sorry about the job as well. What a disappointment. Hopefully the loss of this one just means there’s something better coming down the road.
I, too, have terrible trouble being happy for those around me who get pregnant. I can’t even look them in the eye, let alone say congratulations, or listen to them rant on and on about how tough it is to be pregnant with a one-year-old at home. It’s HARD. I wish I had some awesome advice for you, but the reality is, I’m struggling with the same demons. All we can do is take it day by day, and hope like crazy that some day, it will get easier. Hugs, friend…
Somehow, knowing that someone else struggles with these demons makes me feel less of a freak.
As for the loss of my grandmother, I am philosophical. That’s what is supposed to happen… right? It’s the loss of the child, however tiny, that feels so terrible.
This RE really seems to have his shit together. I like him. I like that he listens to you and presents all the different options.
I’m so sorry about your grandmother. :( Loss is hard, even when it’s an older person. Hopefully there will be a new life growing in you soon to help heal some of the sorrow.
IF makes a lot of us feel very ugly, but I think it’s important to remind ourselves that it’s OKAY to grieve, and it’s normal to feel jealousy for something our hearts desire so very much. My friend E wrote this post recently after the birth of her child and it really struck a chord with me – http://bebesuisse.blogspot.com/2013/07/guilt.html. We all WANT to be the better person – it’s just really damn hard sometimes.
I hope you fall into that 3% this cycle!!
That’s such a great link, Josey. I am very familiar with Bébé Suisse, but haven’t started reading her blog from the beginning. (But can I just say, what a cow that one commenter is! I thought you handled yourself really well.)
Oh Lauren, I am so sorry for this latest blow and especially for the sad news about your grandmother. I know you two are close. I am shaking an angry fist at the universe for you; you are juggling so much at the moment. The new diagnosis and the IVF planning and now this family stuff too… I am so sorry friend. If you want an understanding shoulder to cry on while you’re over here, please do drop me an email! Either way, sending you huge hugs.
Hi Sadie,
I may well take you up on your offer! It’ll be good to be able to vent to someone in the same timezone. And should you find yourself in London and fancy having a random meeting with someone who normally lives on the other side of the world… well, look me up!
Big love xx