Awards time!

Today I'm posting in response to being nominated for a Liebster Award by one of my blog friends, Kimberly.

This award is given to new or up and coming bloggers (this is funny to me, because I feel like there's nothing about me or my blog that's up and coming :)  - just saying)  who have less than 200 followers.  The award is then passed along to other bloggers in the same category to help spread the word and support one another.  Unfortunately, we've been thrown into the infertility category.  A category where none of us wants to be... but, if we have to be here, at least we have found one another!

If you receive the award, here are the rules:

1.)  Each blogger nominated must post 11 things about themselves
2.)  Then, the blogger must answer the 11 questions that the tagger has asked
3.)  The blogger must then create 11 questions of their own to ask the bloggers that they decide to nominate
4.)  They must then choose 11 bloggers with less than 200 followers to nominate and link them on their blog post

I'm going to be a bad Liebster Award nominee and just post 11 things about myself and answer Kimberly's questions.  Mostly because most of the blogs I follow already have 200+ followers, but also because I'm a little lazy (sorry Kimberly!!!).

So, with that, here are 11 things about me:

1.)  I'm a middle child.  I always swore that I would never, ever have three (or any uneven number of children) because I have a serious case of middle child syndrome.  Funny now though, how I'd give my left arm to be able to have just one child.  Or three.  Or five.  Heck, or even seven!


Me with my older bro and younger sis.  My brother lives in FL, so we don't get the opportunity for a sibling picture too often.  This is from my wedding almost three years ago.


2.)  I don't know how to use a round brush.  This little inability has driven me nuts as of late.  My hands just can't twirl the brush the correct way without getting it stuck in my hair and causing too-many-to-count knots.  I'm left with either bone straight hair a la my straightener or curls from a curling iron.  No pretty, blown out 'do's for me!

3.)  Speaking of hair, I wash mine every.single.day.  I know that this is a big no-no, but seriously, if I go a day without washing, it will look so greasy by mid-day.  It's quite annoying because it causes so much extra 'get ready' time in the morning.

4.)  I had a big fat Greek wedding.  Kind of.  Nick's Greek (I'm not).  I laid my foot down with a max of 200 guests.  I wanted to also lay my foot down on the Greek circle dancing and dollar dances, but I didn't.  And I'm glad that I didn't because it was fun.  We also got married on my Nana's 90th Birthday.  It was so special.  We even had her cake toppers from her wedding on our wedding cake.  Love!

Greek wedding ceremony complete with crowns that now hang above our bed :)



Greek circle dancing



$1 tossing during our first dance for good luck and good fortune



Nana's cake toppers on our wedding cake.  Again, LOVE!

5.)  My greatest fear used to be death.  Now it's living childless.

6.)  I'm a neat freak.  To a fault.  I hate it (so does my husband).  I make my bed every.single.day.  And usually I swiffer or vaccuum at least one room once per day.  I need to loosen up!

7.)  I've been lucky enough to have been to France, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Spain, Italy, Portugal, England and Greece.  I want to go back - to all of those countries.  I told my husband yesterday that we should go tour Europe this summer.  This morning, I told him that we should go to Aruba (we woke up to a lovely New England snow storm/squall this morning).  I guess you can go anywhere when you don't have children (sigh...)!

Paris

England


Greece



8.)  Even though I've taken folic acid for two years, my nails still aren't strong.  They peel, break, and chip.  Maybe it's not just the pre-natal vitamins... maybe you actually need to be pregnant to get good, strong nails?

9.)  I've mentioned this before, but Nick and I share the same birthday.  I'm an hour and a half older.  It's probably one of my most favorite things in the world.  It's so special and unique and there's obviously no one else that I'd rather share 8/23 with than him!

Our 30th Birthday in California


10.)  I'm a descendant (daughter) of the Mayflower! 

11.)  I'm also Native American... 1/32 Wampanoag and 1/16 Creek.

Now, here are my answers to Kimberly's questions (my answers will be in purple):

1.)  If you were going to be on the cover of a magazine, what magazine would it be?
Soap Opera Digest!!  I love my Soap, Days of Our Lives!!

2.)  What would be the headline? 
Aubrey is pregnant AGAIN?!?!

3.)  What is the best decision you almost didn’t make?
To see an RE.  I was so hesitant at first and was in complete denial (I think I still am in denial!).  Now, I truly can't imagine my life without Dr. A.  It's an addiction.  I'm literally lost when I'm not going through a monitored/medicated cycle.

4.)  What is the most dreamy date you have ever been on?
Honestly?  Nick and I have been to some amazing places together... Europe, Caribbean Islands, etc., etc., and those trips are always dreamy, because who wouldn't love lounging on the white sand in the tropics with their husband?!  But truthfully, my favorite dates with him are going out for pizza or ordering in, snuggling on the couch and watching our favorite shows together.  I love being at home with my love(s... Belle too, of course!).

Aruba 2004

Antigua 2010 (sadly, I no longer look anywhere close to this!)

5.)  What one quality can you just not stand in other people? 
I think my least favorite quality in someone is... I actually don't know.  This is a difficult one.  I guess these days, I struggle with people who don't care enough to try to understand... So, I guess people who are un-empathetic bother me the most.

6.)  What is your favorite room in your home? 
Hmmm, I would have to say either my family room or bedroom.  Let's face it, that's where you can find me most of the time - in bed or on the couch!

7.)  What did you sleep with as a comfort item when you were little?
A stuffed animal monkey.

8.)  What is the best meal you have ever had?
I'm going to sound crazy when I say write this, but, my hands down favorite meal of all-time is a JIF peanut butter sandwich (skip the jelly!) on white wonder bread with a glass of milk.

9.)  Pick one for the rest of your life: movies or TV shows?
TV shows for sure!

10.)  If you start a book and don’t like it, do you finish it or ditch it?
Ditch it.  Though, I normally choose such fluffy books (i.e. Nicholas Sparks, Emily Giffin) that I pretty much always love them.

11.)  How did your parents choose your name?
My Dad named me.  He loved the song Aubrey by Perry Como.  My Dad and I danced to the Bread version (Bread re-did it in the 70's) at my wedding.  Tear...

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

Hope(less)

Although my blog may suggest otherwise, most of the time, I really do have a lot of hope that someday... one day... I will have a baby.  The possibility that getting pregnant may never happen for me is something that I try to keep far, far away and out of my mind.  Rather, when I see something cute while flipping through a magazine or on TV, I'll declare to my husband that's what we'll do when we have a baby, or I'm definitely going to get that when we have a baby!  Statements and thoughts like these so effortlessly roll off my tongue.  It's almost as if my mind hasn't really even begun to process the possibility of never having a baby of my own.  And I guess that's a good thing, because that's where (along with every single piece of my heart) my hope comes from.  I try so hard every single day to grab ahold of that hope and to not let it go. 

But sometimes... a little bit of reality will sink in and it devastates me...

Yesterday I was hopeless.  I felt like a balloon that was slowly being deflated.  I was a little more upset after each hour had passed.  In fact, I was counting down the hours until it was a somewhat appropriate time for me to crawl into bed (6 p.m. - though thankfully I had pre Golden Globe shows to use as my excuse while Nick watched the football game).  For some reason I just couldn't get the negative thoughts out of my mind...

What if this FET doesn't work?  How could I even think that I might get pregnant?  I've literally done every single thing I possibly can - why would I think it's going to work this time?  Or next time?  Or the time after that?  I've done f-o-u-r cycles of IVF.  If none of those worked, am I crazy for thinking that a fifth will?  Should we move?  Why would we live here if we can't have a baby?  I can't be surrounded by friends having children of their own... that would kill me.  It pretty much already has...

Thankfully, though, today is a new day... a new week.  I'm praying for more hope and strength than I had yesterday.  I know that allowing my mind to dwell on the possibility of this never working isn't healthy, but on the other hand, if it does never happen... how healthy is it to convince myself otherwise only to be let down?

why us?

I can't tell you how many times in a day I ask God, myself and my husband what the heck did I do to deserve this?  There has to be something I did... and then I'll try to think of all the "bad", immoral, or wrong things I may have done in my past... I try to pin-point something that would make sense as to why I'm dealing with infertility and with bad eggs.  Deep down though, I know that's silly... that I was born with my egg "issue", that it's nothing that anyone, not even me, could have caused.  But, I want a reason.  I so often pray to God to just please let me get pregnant, but also to please help me someday see why I was chosen to have dealt with this.  I hope that someday (once I have a healthy baby in my arms), something will just click and I'll be able to say that's why!!

For so long I've thought so much about myself in this journey asking why me, why me, why me?  But then my little Blog connected me to a bunch of other women dealing with the same or similar issues.  Women dealing with similar pain and heartache, who write about feelings, situations and thoughts that all could be mine.  My journey in the world of infertility, as crappy as it is and as crappy as it has been, connected me to so many who I now call friends.

And that's when I realize just how much this all really does suck.  The pain I feel is now multiplied.  I'm angry and saddened, not just for me, but for the woman who has tried to conceive unsuccessfully for months, or even years, who is just embarking on the scary, but potentially exciting, world of infertility treatments and who is now seeing an RE... for the woman (like me) who has undergone multiple procedures (IUI and/or IVF) and who has received a negative BETA month after month after month... for the woman who would give anything to be able to just go through one cycle of IVF, but isn't able to due to the cost and lack of insurance coverage... for the woman who has suffered with the pains of infertility and who then becomes pregnant, only to lose her precious, precious, miracle baby.  My question now isn't just why me?, but has become why us?  The heartache and pains of infertility are so unfair, no matter where you may be in your journey. 

I've found myself in such a rut lately within my own journey.  It's almost as if I'm addicted to infertility treatments.  When I'm not cycling and don't have doctor's appointments at least three times in a week, or I'm not popping Clomid or giving myself injection after injection, day after day, it's like I'm lost.  I'm waiting for my next cycle to start, obviously hoping that it won't (but that's a long shot!), so that I can get started with my first ever FET cycle.  In the meantime, I'm stuck trying to make sense of all that I've been through... and all that my fellow infertility friends have been through as well.  I don't know that any of this will ever make any sense.  I just hope that someday, when my dreams have come true, that it won't even matter anymore.

Weekending

This weekend...

** We had an impromptu candle lit dinner on Friday night... complete with cheese and crackers for appetizers. I'm such a domestic diva, huh?! ** Belle was in the mood for lots of belly rubs. ** I watched Something Borrowed, for the umpteenth time (good movie, fantastic book) and enjoyed a bowl of kettle corn. ** I watched the movie while wearing my shirt that Nick tells me looks like it's from Gap Kids.  Hey, if you can't have kids (*yet), you might as well dress like them, eh?! ** Belle begged for food. ** I made Sally's delicious cake batter chocolate chip cookies.  Yum (I'm a sucker for anything cake batter!). ** I played two games of cribbage and lost both.  Sad. ** Belle begged for more food. **


As you can see, my weekend was pretty uneventful.  Mostly because my husband came down with some sort of nasty illness, so naturally, I put my nurse's cap on and didn't do much other than make tea, make tea and oh!  make more tea.  It was actually nice though... not that I wanted Nick to be sick, but we vegged and slept and just relaxed - we had no where to go and nothing to do. 

Last night, we retired to bed early and while we were watching Love Actually (another fantastic movie!) (also, another one of my favorite things about Nick is that he'll gladly watch any rom-com/"chick flick" movie with me... without complaint!), Nick turned to me and said "this sucks."  I just knew he wasn't talking about him not feeling well, but rather, infertility.  My hunch was confirmed when he followed "this sucks" up with "it just shouldn't be this hard".  See, I'm normally the one to go on, and on, and on, and on, and on about how unfair all of this is... how infertility has stolen so much from me... from us... but, when Nick mentions how shitty this all is, I know it really is... because he doesn't complain, ever, about anything.  He takes everything as it comes to him.  So, even though I know that infertility is the worst, even though I know all of this sucks... badly... it just hurts my heart that much more knowing that my stupid eggs are causing him pain as well.  Because he's right, this sucks... it shouldn't be this hard!

infertility thoughts

This post isn't really going to have a beginning or and end, and it probably won't come together to get any sort of point across.  These are just some of my current thoughts and feelings regarding infertility.  Some of the things that are weighing heavily on my mind (and heart)...

Dealing with infertility is, by far, the most difficult thing I've been faced with thus far in my life.  I've found myself talking to God often throughout this journey and I ask Him a lot, why am I going through this?  Why did you choose me to bare this pain and heartache, this jealousy and envy, this hurt and sadness?  Unfortunately, I'm not sure I'll ever have answers to these questions, which doesn't make any of this any easier.  I grasp at anything that I can consider a "sign" that this is all going to work out - that I AM going to become a Mom.  If I hear a song on the radio that I like or that has any sort or significance to me, I convince myself that God is telling me not to worry.  Silly?  Probably... But I think all of that is just evidence of my hope and faith wanting so badly to stick with me and to shine through.

The thing is, no one can tell me that it's all going to be alright.  That I WILL become a Mom.  No one can tell me when it will happen, or how.  This is all, 100% in God's hands.  I wish so badly I could just have a conversation with Him.  To get some answers, some clarity and strength, and perhaps even some more hope and faith as I continue on in this most painful journey.

This morning on our way into work, I told my husband that my biggest fear right now is exhausting our options of having medical assistance in trying to get pregnant.  You see, we've been so fortunate to have had amazing insurance coverage for every single IUI and IVF.  I know that not everyone out there dealing with infertility has the same luxury.  And that is awful, a sin.  A big part of me sometimes feels very selfish, in fact.  Here I am, having done three IUI's and four IVF's... while many people out there would give anything to just have the coverage for one IVF.  Believe me, the benefit of having the insurance coverage that I do is not lost on me.  I know that I am very lucky for this, I know that this is not the norm in this country and that saddens me to the core.  That said, I've pretty much blown through infertility treatment after infertility treatment.  The fact that I had two IUI's and four IVF's in one year is pretty unheard of in this community of infertiles.  I've been able to (sort of) put my head down and keep going with treatment after each failed cycle, knowing that the only need to take a break is perhaps due to mental and emotional reasons.  What I'm trying to get across here is that I've been so entrenched in infertility treatments, but what will happen if I exhaust them all?  I know that I potentially have two FET's available to me here in Boston.  And then, my RE's practice typically will recommend no more than six fresh IVF cycles - this means, I technically have two left.  What if both of those fail?  Then, if we go to CCRM - what if that fails?  At that point, we will have drained our chances with IVF as well as our bank account (insurance will cover close to nothing at CCRM - however, I won't complain about this - ever - I know I've been beyond lucky with my insurance coverage locally).  I guess what I'm trying to say here, in a really round-about way, is that I'm petrified of not having any more chances to get pregnant without the help of a doctor.  And the truth is, the way that we plow through infertility treatments, if I don't get pregnant soon, by the end of 2013 this may be exactly where we end up.  I don't trust that my body can get pregnant on its own.  I don't trust that my eggs are good enough to fertilize and become embryos without the assistance of an embryologist.  That my embryo can survive without the added progesterone and estrogen supplements, injections and patches.  I don't believe that we can get pregnant on our own. 

Being the type A person that I am, the "planner" within me just wants to know.  I always want to know what our next step will be.  I'm thankful to have gotten that answer yesterday - our immediate next step is to do our first FET.  But what happens beyond that, if that FET fails?  What will our family look like this time next year?  The unknown in all of this is daunting and scary.  On the other hand, the unknown could be a good thing.  Perhaps I'm worrying over nothing.  Perhaps this FET will work.  If not, maybe the next one will.  And if that doesn't work, who's to say our next fresh cycle won't be the lucky one?

I'm trying to put ALL of my trust in God... I'm praying that I won't be let down.

I'm also writing all of this today after having found out last night that yet another "friend" is pregnant (just from having sex!) with her second child.  My husband told me that he now just expects everyone we know to get pregnant (thanks Nick, but that doesn't really help me!).  It's hard.  It's not fair.  My jealousy is, without a doubt, rearing its ugly head today.  I'm trying not to be a bad person with bad thoughts.  I'm trying to find happiness, deep down, for this "friend".  Though, even deeper down, I know this could potentially be what severs our "friendship" that's sadly already hanging on by a thread...

I'm ashamed to even write that last paragraph.  But, my friends, this is exactly how us infertiles feel.  These are the exact thoughts and feelings that we have and that we are ashamed of... that we pray to God for the strength to be able to deal with... None of this is easy.  None of it!

What's Next?

I've sat here for five minutes just watching the cursor blink at me.  I want to write a post about my doctor's appointment this morning, but I just don't even really know where to begin.  I'm annoyed, confused, frustrated, sad and sort of just blah. 

Every time I have a doctor's appointment, I get very anxious.  Butterflies fill my stomach and my body shakes.  It's weird because I'm SO comfortable with my doctor and everyone in her entire practice.  I've become friendly with the medical assistants, the nurses, the doctors and even the receptionist at the front desk.  We joke that I have their number on speed dial (I find it so interesting that I can joke and put on a smiley, happy face at my doctor's office - as if this all isn't killing me.  And then, here on this blog and at home, at work and in any other social setting, I can't put that brave face on... I crumble and melt into a puddle of tears and sadness.).  Anyway, the anxiety normally dissipates as soon as I'm called back for my blood draw, ultrasound or meeting.  But today, my anxiety didn't really go away.  All of that anxiety became a big, fat lump in my throat and it caused me to forget some of the things I'd been going over in my head to ask my doctor... I was too focused on trying not to unload all of my tears from my frustration with this entire mess of infertility right in front of her as my husband and I sat across from her in her office. 

The meeting started by my doctor reviewing our perfect cycle.  Maybe that's why I was so uneasy in her office.  It's hard for me to reflect back on IVF #4 because it was the cycle that should have given us our BFP.  There's no reason for that cycle to have failed.  Unless, of course, if you remember that my eggs are bad.  I have a high-ish FSH and I asked my doctor if that's why she thinks this "perfect" cycle failed.  Which basically, in a long and round-about response, the answer to that question is yes.  Something to do with the mechanics of my eggs is probably the cause for the development of the chromosones to stop diving and growing and doing whatever else it is that they're supposed to do.  And that assumption comes from the fact that I have a high-ish FSH.

I asked if she would consider me as someone that should be diagnosed with POF (premature ovarian failure).  She said no, but that my "diagnosis" would be DOR (diminished ovarian reserve).  This makes sense, as the highest number of eggs we've been able to retrieve is seven, even on the highest amounts of stims that my doctor is comfortable with someone taking.  She said that if once my FSH levels come back in the 20's (my highest FSH level so far was 18.6), then I'd be considered "peri-menopausal".  Beyond "peri-menopausal", would be someone who has POF.  So, the good news here is that I'm still a step or so away from all of this.  My doctor still has confidence that somehow, someday I will have a baby with my own eggs - with or without the help of IVF.  It's frustrating for me, though, because although she's seen it happen and although I've heard of it happening for other women, I still don't feel like it'll happen for me.  My doctor did mention again that her thought is that I'll certainly go through menopause prior to the average age of fifty-two.  Again, sort of hard to hear.  That's still twenty-two years away, but obviously menopause isn't something you want to even hear about at the age of thirty, when you're trying desperately to get pregnant.  **This is where I completely forgot to ask about my AMH levels.  I had even written this in my notes on my iPhone to make sure I bring up and ask... I guess I got so flustered hearing about my DOR that I just couldn't take anymore and wanted to focus on what we are going to do next**

So... what are we going to do next?  As previously mentioned, we have four frozen embryos (I'm still so, so, so thankful for this).  My doctor reviewed the report with us and confirmed that we had two blastocycts frozen on day 5 that were both "good/A".  We then had two additional blastocycts frozen on day 6, both of which were already hatching on their own and that were also graded "good/A".  Good?  Yes.  But it was also good last time, with our fresh cycle, too.  So, do I have much more faith in a frozen transfer?  No.  But I'm trying to.  We decided that we would go ahead and thaw two blastocycts, in hopes that both would make it for the transfer so that in the event that FET #1 fails, we'd potentially have two blastocysts left for a second FET.  But, as all of us infertiles know, nothing is for certain in this terribly painful journey.  There is the possibility that during the thawing process, our embryos won't make it and the embryologist will need to go back to the freezer for our other two blasts.  Fingers crossed that this won't be an issue... but you never know.  I'm starting to just expect the worst.

So, we'll be starting our FET hopefully soon.  I'm in the middle of a cycle now, so January has already been counted out, which I'm trying to convince myself isn't exactly a bad thing.  We changed our health insurance this year (to a PPO in hopes of getting at least some sort of reimbursement if we end up going out to CCRM), and I know we'll probably need some time to straighten all of that out.

In the meantime, I'm trying to hold onto Amanda's reminder that God is good.  Always.

Be Nice, 2013

I don't know why I thought that by just one digit changing in the year, somehow I'd be rid of all of the pain that 2012 brought to me.  Because I'm not.  All of that pain is still very much there.  I was sort of bummed about this all day yesterday - I barely moved unless it was from my bed to the couch and back to my bed again (until we rang in the New Year with my in-laws at our annual chinese food New Year's Day night).  Though, if you want the honest truth, I'll go ahead and admit that perhaps some of my sluggish behavior that caused me to mope and pout all day might have been somewhat due to the scorpian bowl that I shared chugged with my husband on New Year's Eve.

OK, and since I'm confessing, I'll just lay it all out right here: said scorpian bowl (plus a couple glasses of pinot noir) may also be the reason that rather than watching the ball drop, I was already snoozing on the couch come midnight.  And I stayed there.  On the couch.  In my clothes.  Until I woke up at 5:45 a.m. realizing that I had a bit of a headache and that my husband had so lovingly tucked me in right where I was, and placed a blanket over me.  That's when I put my PJ's on and climbed into bed with Nick and Belle.  Then when I awoke for the second time that morning, I was just a grump.  Yes, partly from my headache but also just because.  Just because by waking up on 1/1/2013, nothing had changed.  I'm still not pregnant and I've still been through hell.  I'm still just bummed about this.  All of this.

That said, with the new year having begun, some of my hope and faith has been renewed.  I'm grateful for this.  We have four snow babies right now.  This is a good thing (we hope).  We pray that just one of those embryos will become our miracle baby. 

Can 2013 really bring me the only thing I want in the entire world?  The possibility alone that it just might, is really the only thing that has kept me continuing to just put one foot in front of the other.