Menu Search Account

Trying-to-Conceive Blog

spazzle's blog

Guess who's got target dates?

This blogger!!!

*does ridiculous, singing into hairbrush, '80s movie montage style dance*

I started bcp -- something I never thought I'd say again, lol -- and we've got our whole protocol schedule for retrieval in October, FET in January.

I was a kaleidoscope of emotions over all of this. There was so much I had shoved way deep down over these past four years of (failure isn't the right word... non-success? haha) -- whatever you want to call it -- and it was hard reopening those feelings: that defeat, that fear, that hope. Even in the days leading up to scheduling I could feel myself turning into an anxious tangle of "what ifs" and "whys", and that's a dark, scary maze to try to escape. But throughout these past four years, a lot of life has happened and I've found myself on a spiritual journey, where I cultivated a closeness with God, awareness of my place in the universe, and a deep sense of gratitude and humility. All I can do is have faith, be grateful for this opportunity, and take it as it comes. I could not have handled ivf four years ago, but I'm exactly the person I need to be to handle it now -- come what will. :)

Any thoughts, prayers, or well-wishes are greatly appreciated.

two steps forward, one step back

Our ivf consult went great. The hospital staff was excellent, the doctor was really nice, the treatment plan he proposed was just what we were hoping for, and the live birth success rates for the procedure were outstanding. And then we saw the price tag............

I'm no idiot -- I know ivf is expensive, but due to the minimal stim treatment protocol, we expected it to be roughly $5,000 cheaper than standard ivf. And technically it is cheaper, but the doctor's fee is substantial, so while the medications are much less expensive, the expertise and the success rates come at a premium. All told, we'd be looking at $12k. 

Part of me wishes that they had sucked and we hadn't liked them so much, that way I wouldn't feel so deflated. It's a lot more money to come up with, which will delay things even longer. We don't feel comfortable borrowing that amount of money: even if we're successful, we'll have lots of other bills to consider and don't need to be weighed down with extra debt. We're trying to consider all of our options, but right now it really doesn't look promising. I could apply for a grant, but even then we'd be looking at another year. What's another year I guess?

I don't know. I wish I had all the answers. 

Really struggling this week

Hello, hormones and hating everyone.

I was a little hopeful last week (clinging to that sliver of possibility) but I suspect that AF will be full force overnight so there's that. I feel like I'll never stop waiting. Our appt was moved, so it's still 4 weeks away, and it has felt weeks away for months now, so that definitely creates the feeling of spinning tires and being stuck. I'm frustrated with social media and recent rude commentary from family (commentary that I have warned dh I will vehemently address if that person has the stupidity of bringing it up again). I wasn't going to go into detail here, but actually, yeah, I will. This family member keeps saying things like, "Well I would just hate for you guys to spend alllll this money..." *fumes even writing it* As if it's a) any of her gd business, b) any of her gd money, and c) just something we randomly decided we wanted to do but isn't *really* necessary to having children. All of which I will be bringing up if (more like when) she mentions it again. She keeps dropping these little hints that it's, idk, fucking curable or something. Anecdotal shit about people who "had trouble" and then just "stopped smoking" or "took clomid" or "lost weight". None of that applies to our situation and none of it is her concern even if it did. Hate. Hate hate hate. I hate the sheer ignorance of it and the petty place that comments like that come from. And my polite responses to her that it's not our situation (trust me, I've explained the reality) or just outright ignoring her comments is no longer working for me. I demand justice. I will no longer allow anyone to get away with it. Because if we ever get our appointment and actually start ivf, the last thing I fucking need is people being petty and negative about how much money I spent on something "that may only have a 15% chance of working" (yes, direct quote from her). Actually, I may type up a manifesto and email it to the whole family so everybody can understand ivf etiquette and our expectations on the front end. Okay, I probably won't do that, but you know.

I am still bloated and tired and have a huge zit and want to stab people. At least my boobs look good.

I need to take a walk, take some time to meditate, practice mindful breathing, and stop thinking about asshole people. I am fine, and our appt will come (or it won't), and life will go on.


*deep breath*

Life goes on.


There is a 96% chance (percentage per our former RE) that what I'm experiencing is just another random thing my body does and I'm totally not pregnant... but there's still always that 4%, right? There's also something about June that makes me really hopeful (four years ago this month we decided to start trying!) Anyway, all that said, I'm 9dpo and my lower belly is super bloated. This started noticeably at 7dpo. I've run through the possibilities: I'm not constripated, I've been gassy but nothing to warrant this level of bloat, and I generally feel comfortable so it's not some sort of illness. I'm extremely fit these days, though, so it's possible that even slight bloat can look huge on me now? But man the timing would be so good. Our appointment got pushed back a month (and wouldnt this just be the best surprise after that?). And I just got some possibly promising career news. And idk, things are just good. Again, some sort of June baby fever? I had a really strong ovulation this cycle, and fantastic ewcm, and it was on my right side which *is* the superspeedway tube. Eh, idk, just thinking on the page. 

I've learned there's a cycle to everything. An eb and flow, like the ocean, like breathing. This feeling has its counterpart, and in a few days when my belly goes flat maybe I'll be there again, wondering why I felt contently hopeful. But both are important -- hope and reality. I'm just trying to embrace both, here with my mysterious lower belly bloat. :)

Cold feet

The conversation around ivf has always been "what if we do this and it doesn't work?"  But... what if we do it and it does? What if I regret having kids? What if I love my life right now and kids ruin it? What if I'm forcing something not meant for me and it all blows up in my face??? I generally do not like people's kids. Most people's kids suck. (Probably because a lot of people suck, and they breed sucky kids, but I digress.) What if I'm a shit mom? What if I'm essentially sentencing myself to a lifetime of being miserable and I don't even know it? What if it kills my marriage? I love my marriage! What if I die during childbirth? What if my kid turns out to be a serial killer? (Yes, I watch a lot tv, but IT HAPPENS. Every serial killer or terrorist or crap person has to have a mom somewhere.)

But really, what the hell am I doing? :(

Some things & some stuff

After paying a stupid amount for my "records" (aka the abbreviated amount of info they chose to release to me), I have finally washed my hands of my old RE clinic. We had a bit of a falling out some months ago after they refused to fill out a one page form for an ivf grant application, of which I had already submitted my portion (all 40 pages!) AND paid the entry fee for... but honestly that was just the last straw in a long string of my being unhappy with them, from their overburdened staff to their highly standardized, one-size-fits-all treatment protocols. I guess when you're the only RE clinic in the city you can work that way, but clearly it was not the place for me.

Over the months a lot of things have come together in various ways and, super long story short, we have a consultation scheduled with a highly rated clinic that offers mini ivf. Sure, it's in another city that's quite a drive from here, and sure, the whole consultation may be a bust, but for now it feels right. I've done a ton of research on mini ivf, which differs from standard ivf in that they use milder drugs to stimulate follicle growth and - bonus - without a lot of those pricier drugs, it costs a lot less. It is more in line with our particular situation (MFI) and my comfort level. As with any ART, it's still an expensive gamble, but we'll see what's what after we meet with the doctor. So far the staff has been great and very considerate of the fact that we're coming from out of town. Now I'm just waiting on the appointment date to roll around so we can see the proposed plan and the price tag and determine if this is doable or not. 

I'm making an effort to stay very grounded, flexible, and optimistic. When things get challenging I have a tendency to switch into "managing" mode (trying my best to control a situation, its outcomes, and my emotions about it), which works great for an issue at work or a crisis that needs quick action but doesn't at all work for something like this, which is at its core rife with emotion and unpredictable outcomes. I'm working to stay mindful, to be easy on myself (and others), and to embrace the opportunity over the outcome. 

If any of you are still out there who remember an old blogger like me, send some happy thoughts, prayers, good vibes, or baby dust my way. Whatever your personal preference, I will certainly appreciate it.

♡ Spazzle


Because after 3.75 years, you give zero fux.

My new answer for all those questions like:

"Are you guys planning to have kids?"

"Soooo... what about you two?" (when anyone else's kids are near, ever)

"Do you guys just not want kids?"

In comes me, nearly four years battle-weary but super casual:

"Ya know, it's so crazy but I was just reading somewhere how that's one of the top five questions you shouldn't ask people in 2017. Apparently it's really personal or something. Can you believe it?"


A friendly reminder that no one is entitled to your personal business, and no one gets to make you feel crappy about it. 

All those big plans

I realized today that as of this cycle, it's impossible for me to have a baby before I'm 30. Not that that's a terrible thing, it just wasn't my plan, ya know? My plan was to have a baby at 27 and maybe another at 30. In my naive mind there was no way I would have a baby after 32 -- not me! I don't even know where I got these numbers. It's not like they mean anything. And I'm not sure why I was thinking about it today. Maybe just one of those passing thoughts about how sometimes things don't work out how we planned. Does that mean they won't work out at all? I don't know. Almost 4 years of this is enough to make anyone wonder, though. 

I meditate a lot these days. I pray a lot, too. The human spirit has a hard time sitting still. It takes practice to inhabit this moment and not feel anxious about all the ones that have come before it and all the ones that might come after. But the truth is you can't be anywhere except where you are. Breathe it in. Make peace with it. This journey's a long one and like a boat in a river, you can't skip ahead to the end, you have to travel the whole thing, regardless of how hard you paddle. 

I want to be pregnant so badly

I know that goes without saying, but I've never said it here in those plain words. This is my 41st tww (god, i knew I've always hated math), and I've never just written, "I want to be pregnant." There always seems to be more to say. Other things. Quantifiable things. "Symptoms" galore, or maybe an assessment of our efforts, or maybe just how I'm feeling about this whole journey. But today all I have is this -- I WANT to be pregnant. At this point I feel stupid for even having a glimmer of hope. I want to cry. Because in a day or so, I'll start my period like always, and life will move on. I will *never* be pregnant. I mean, tons of people will never get what they want: being an astronaut or saving the world or whatever. I'm just so sad. For some stupid reason I really believed I was pregnant; I feel/felt pregnant. But I'm not. (Negative test. It was an hour hold at night, but c'mon, I'm no idiot.) I wish I could ask the universe what it's waiting for. Maybe one day I'll know. 


Blogging: my alternative to screaming and sobbing

My journal isn't handy so here I am.

I hate people today, and I hate that I do, but it is what it is. So let me say...

Thanks, pinterest, for yet another holiday that is full of pregnancy announcements. And also, I want to take a moment to thank all those women who posted them. Thanks for the inclusion about "how long you waited" for your pregnancies (less than a year on all counts, no clinics, no issues) and how hard it was to "wait" to tell everyone. Thanks for letting me know you're on your second "miracle" kid, when I was already meeting with the specialists before you thought about conceiving your first. Don't forget to include how "blessed" you are every five seconds. Thanks for those of you who have made your whole life about babies to the point I'm not included in basic, very non-baby stuff. Thanks to my friend's dad on Thanksgiving who saw me holding a baby and made a crack about "not getting any ideas" like it would be outrageous that we -- a couple married for 5 years -- would actually want a baby, though his daughter literally got pregnant with the baby I was holding the first month she knew the dad. Thanks to my dh who is sooo super happy for these people. Good for him that he's a better person than me. Thanks to all the people I thought about calling the other day when I was bawling my eyes out over this, because I knew none of them would understand.

I feel like I have all these places that I don't belong because of infertility. On facebook, at certain social gatherings, in my own skin. I'm so angry and alone, and I hate being all of these things. 

Well, I can't say that I feel better, but at least I tried.