News from Nicaragua

      My husband called me at work today. In the 14 months I have been at this job, he has never called me on my work phone (he calls me on my cell, which I cannot answer at work). He says he doesn’t like having to dial my extension. Whatever. So, Flaco called me today and said, “I have some bad news.” My first thought was something terrible happened to one of his family members in Nicaragua. “What?!” I cried breathlessly (well, really I cried, “Qué pasó?!” because we were speaking in Spanish, but I figure this story will have a lot more significance with the given audience if I do the translating). Flaco’s brother, closest in age (he is 22) – we shall call him Tica, since he has been living in Costa Rica and the Costa Ricans are Ticas (the Nicaraguans are Nicas) – is planning to go back to Costa Rica perhaps next week. He just arrived back to the small farming village in Nicaragua last Monday, with the intention of beginning a new business with my husband. Tica was going to add-on to the family’s house and open a hair cutting salon. The first in this small community. But, he spent the money he saved from working in Costa Rica on fixing the family’s motorbike and now has nothing to add, financially, to the business. I was angry because I felt like Tica just expects my husband to fork over the start-up cash and then he will reap the benefits. Flaco said Tica will make his final decision on Monday, if he will stay or if he will return to Costa Rica.
     Then, Flaco says, “And I have more bad news.” Does this man not believe in giving any good news following bad news?! “May got married this past Saturday.” (May is the name I have chosen for his sister – really they all have interesting “Nica” names). HOLD THE PHONE!!! She did WHAT?! May is only 19 years old! And she was going to school – beyond high school! When we were down visiting I had a long, long talk with her about waiting to get married (since all her girlfriends have gotten married and have had babies) and to finish school first. She told me she broke up with her past boyfriend because he was pressuring her to get married and she wanted to finish high school first. May is the only child in my husband’s family of 5 to have gotten a high school education (the younger two are still in school, but not showing much gumption to study and excel). I was so incredibly proud of her because in order to get her diploma, she had to learn to ride the motorbike 30 minutes one-way into town every day because there is no high school in their community. Before she could do that, she had to study on the weekends for over a year to prepare. And right after high school, she was offered a scholarship to study agri-business at the local community college because she was one of the top in her class. And now she is throwing it all away to run off with some young guy. Don’t get me wrong, he is nice enough and seems to genuinely care for her, but he is only 20-21 himself and he doesn’t have a job (other than butchering his parents cattle on the weekends and selling the meat). I am just furious with her. And, I am also a little hurt. Like my words of encouragement meant nothing to her. She didn’t even call us to tell us herself or to tell us ahead of time (to be fair, “getting married” meant she just moved in with his family – I doubt very much that they had any kind of ceremony or that they went to town to  get a marriage license). I do realize there is a huge cultural difference going on here and really, she is just being a “normal” Nicaraguan young woman, but I had such high hopes for her!
      But, if I am honest with myself, I am also a little worried that she will very soon be pregnant. In Nicaragua, they do not wait until they are settled or until they feel financially prepared to start popping out the little ones. And, they are young. Probably very fertile. I am already preparing myself for this new level of hurt and anger. Our child is supposed to be the first grandchild! We have been married for nearly 3 years now and together for over 5 years. We have been trying longer! We have a house and both of us have jobs. WE deserve to have the first grandchild, not two silly kids who just run off together!! I told my husband I will not be able to endure her having a baby before us. And I see it happening! I pray to God that they will be responsible and wait until May finishes school, but I have the feeling that God has found a new means of torturing me. Now, not only will all my friends have a baby before me, but my sister-in-law ten years my junior will also be a mother before I am! It seems the pain in my journey thus far is not enough; I must bear more and more heartache. Already I can feel myself getting bitter and already I am internally screaming at God, “How could You?!”  I cannot tolerate it! We have waited our turn. We have prayed and begged and pleaded. What more do You want from me?! What else can be heaped upon my head to create unendurable agony? I can already hear “everyone” clamoring, “Calm down! It hasn’t happened yet and it might not happen! Just take it easy, your time will come.” But, my give-a-dam is busted.

God and babies

***I suppose I should write a quick disclaimer here - this is not going to be a very positive post and some might find what I am saying about God, faith, and religion to be a tad blasphemous. Read at your own risk*** 

   I went to church this morning, for the first time in awhile. I think I have been avoiding church because I am so angry at God. I don't want to be where I am at and I cannot fathom why He has decided to send us down this long and devastating path. When I was trying to be positive and when I was believing in faith that God would give us a baby, I was sorely disappointed time and time again. Now, I just don't believe (I believe in God and I believe in all the "important" stuff, I just don't believe He is going to give us a baby anytime soon). Faith is believing in things unseen, yet insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different results. So at what point do these two ideas become incompatible and at odds with one another? Each month, I have differing levels of belief or faith, that I will become pregnant. This same action has now become insanity because I expect the same thing, do the same thing, and I am always surprised when I get the same results. How do I escape from this swirling vortex of doom?
    After the grueling worship and sermon (I say grueling because after I got there I realized I didn't want to be there), the pastor's wife cornered me. Now, I go to a bi-lingual church in which most of the members speak Spanish as a primary language. The pastor's wife and I communicated in Spanish. I don't know why this important to the story, perhaps I just felt like sharing. Anyway, she asked me if we were blessed with a pregnancy yet. I told her no, we are not going to be blessed. She asked why and I tried to brush her off and told her we could not afford the procedure. She pulled me up front to pray with her, which of course made me cry. She apologized to God on my behalf, for being so furious with Him. And she said if she and I were in agreement, then God will be faithful to give us as many babies as we want. I know that she wanted me to smile and nod and tell her "yes, I believe God will do that," but I just simply could not do it. I could not summon the effort to fake it. Apparently, my faith is as broken as my useless body. But, I don't see any point in forcing myself to think positive and try to be positive when it ends in the same, if not more, pain. So, I left feeling just as deeply sad as when I went in.
     Tonight, I am having such terrible stomach cramps thanks to the metaformin. I can't get comfortable no matter what I do and no matter what I try to eat. Plus, as my period winds down, I am having back cramps. I am pretty darn miserable right now! At least, the Clomid seems to be releasing my emotions and hormones and I am feeling a little more like myself and not a crazy, sobbing lunatic. I have also decided that we will try for another two years and if we do not get pregnant in that time, then we will adopt (although, who knows if Flaco will be willing to adopt at that point or ever). I cannot stay in infertility land indefinitely. I don't know, maybe this is another line in the sand I am giving myself; like having my first baby before I'm 30. I guess only time will tell.

Addressing Some Concerns

     I have had a few people mention to me that I might be taking "this" too hard, that I am too emotional right now. First, I would like to know where the rules are that tell me how I should react to such intense disappointment? But, without getting too snarky, I believe that every individual experiences disappointment in a different way. There is no "right" way to grieve. Am I emotional? Yes. I would think there is something wrong with a woman in my situation not to feel upset about another negative month. And, this is the rock bottom right now. The pain is the most intense when the news is still fresh and the dreams are still fading away. Plus, the pain is compounded by the effect of Clomid, which twists and pulls my hormones to the breaking point, making every emotion feel even more intense. And, I am not getting much hopeful news from the Infertility office and I am now more stressed out about making a decision to perhaps move onto yet another doctor. All of these factors combined have made this particular time all the more poignant. I am grateful there are people out there who care about me, but I also need to do this in my own way. If I try to stuff my feelings and hide them I will only feel worse in the long run.
     I guess what I am trying to say is that I feel like crap right now, but this too shall pass. And I knew I would if I didn't end up pregnant this month. In the past two years, there were months when I knew I would not be pregnant and then there were months when I truly believed I might be pregnant. The months when I believed were definately harder to "get over." I want a baby desperately and I hate feeling hopeless. I hate feeling like the only option our Infertility Doctor is giving us, is something we simply cannot afford. We live pay-check to pay-check, hanging on by the mere tips of our fingers to the bottom of the middle class. We are in debt and spread pretty thin. Taking out yet another loan does not seem wise. I mean, if the IVF were to work the very first time (and even with the chance the doctor's office has given us at 70%, there is still a 30% chance we will blow 9 grand and still be in the same boat, only more broke), we would be on the hook for the loan and also have a new baby to take care of financially! This does not sound like the best idea for us. I wish money were not an issue. But, it is and we have to deal with our reality.
     I hate that we have to be in this situation. I hate infertility. I want nothing more than to miraculously get pregnant without such extreme measures. I find it hard to deal with the intense disappointment every single month. I do realize that remaining calm might help my situation more than getting all freaked out. I was quite calm in December and January, I hardly cried at all when I got my period. I still didn't get pregnant. So, I freak out this month and then move on and work with the lousy hand I've been dealt. When Aunt Flo arrives in March, I will feel sad but not devastated. My heart will still break but perhaps the pieces will be easier to get back together. I don't know the infertility playbook and I don't deal well with disappointment in general. I will take the time this month going forward to concentrate on myself; eating healthy, exercising, finding something to do to occupy my time and keep my mind off of "things." More than that, I cannot promise.

Everybody Hurts Sometimes

     Today was a god-awful, no-good, very bad day in every possible way. I got up early to go to the Infertility office again for my second blood test of the week. I cried on the way there. I cried in front of the nurse who then went to get the doctor. The nurse tried to talk me into IVF again. If I was able to talk (which I couldn't because I was trying so hard not to sob), I would have screamed at her, "WE DO NOT HAVE THE MONEY!! WHAT PART OF THAT DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?!!??!" I have never felt so desperate and hopeless in all my life. My heart was crushed and pulverized for the second time in one week! I will be scheduled for the HSG (tube-checking procedure) sometime next week. When I got back home, my period finally began, along with horrific cramps that take my breath away at times. The rest of the day at work I tried to hide my tears and red, swollen eyes. I think I spent more time in the bathroom than I did at my desk.
     Before I went into work, I called my mom. We had a brief conversation and she promised to call me back after work. So, she called and of course I was crying yet again. She said that she has been talking to the doctor in her office who has worked with women who have infertility issues. She has also been talking to other women who work in her office and have had infertility issues. She thinks, and her thoughts are seconded by other medical professionals, that the Infertility office is trying to push me too hard and too fast into IVF. There are many other steps and tests that they have skipped and that could make a difference. After the HSG they should use a laparoscope to take a better look at my uterus to make sure there are no issues like adenomyosis (my mom had this, it is endometriosis in the uterus). And, after giving my body three cycles or so on the metformin, I should try the Clomid again. I am thinking of switching to the doctor in the office where my mom works, since he seems willing to try "other" options. I have also started to consider acupuncture, although I am still quite terrified of needles. Flaco thinks my mom is right (might be a first and last here people!), that the doctor is pushing IVF because it is the big money-maker. He said he might consider it if they can 100% guarantee a pregnancy. The nurse said because I am young, it would be around a 70% chance of a positive out-come.
     I am hurt and my heart is so broken I am not sure if "all the king's horses and all the king's men" can even find pieces big enough to glue it back together again. The pain in my heart is rivaled by the period cramps, reminding me every minute of the day that I am NOT pregnant. To get back to a more sane place emotionally, this month I will focus on eating better and getting more exercise and the only action I will take in the infertility world is to get my tubes checked and perhaps talk to another doctor for a second opinion. Next month I might try the acupuncture. And then, the month after that, I might try Clomid one more time. That's the plan, at least for now.

Quit Playin' Games with My Heart

 I am going to lose my ever-loving mind. I spoke with my mom last night regarding this unusual non-period and she suggested I take a home pregnancy test. So, I took one this morning and it was negative. I called the Infertility Clinic to report the issue and they have me going in tomorrow to test my progesterone and estrogen levels to be certain I am not pregnant. Then we can schedule the ultra-fun tubal checking procedure. Wait, I thought we already did determine I am not pregnant?
     I thought I had come to terms with this month, mentally moving-on to the next step. I thought that blood tests for pregnancy were the gold standard, that they were never wrong. This has never happened to me before. I mean, I spot nearly every month before my period begins, but I have never spotted then stopped without getting a period. I am freaking out because I am worried there is something else seriously wrong with me. The nurse I talked to this morning suggested that the spotting was my period. It was not. I know my period and it has never been so light I did not even really need a panty-liner. Even when I was on the birth control, I would still sometimes need a tampon plus a pad. As much as I would love to be pregnant, I don’t want there to be anything wrong (of course, no one wants anything to be wrong with their pregnancy or developing child!). This seems like the ultimate betrayal from my body; clear proof that it is irrevocably broken and incapable of even producing “normal” functions. It doesn’t seem fair to have to endure this too, in the midst of all the other infertility turmoil. I feel like that boy-band song, “Quit playin’ Games with my Heart.”
     In other news, this morning I was getting ready to leave for work and I usually have on The Today Show to get some news and stay up-to-date. Well, as I was ready to turn the TV off there was a woman (some anchor on a Fox channel) talking about infertility. Her name was Alisyn Camerota and she struggled with infertility in silence for several years before she finally got pregnant with twin girls through IVF. She then miraculously had a son without infertility treatments. She mentioned that she felt like infertility was a “dirty secret” and she didn’t talk about it to anyone, until she started going to a support group. I wish I could have seen more, but I was already running a little late, so I had to go. I might try to look up the interview at some point. I think I feel a lot like she mentioned, not wanting to tell many people about our struggles. She worried they might become “clock-watchers” and constantly ask her if she was pregnant yet. I just don’t want to hear the platitudes, “Oh, it will happen for you someday” or “You’ll make a great mother.” These are things I have heard from people I did tell. Not to mention the “just relax” comments and the stories about “other” couples who did/tried xzy treatment or adopted then got pregnant on their own, ad nauseam. So, I keep it to myself mostly. Perhaps I will look into a local support group (although I don’t want to join a weekly pity party). 
     So, what I am I thinking about this month now? I do not believe I am pregnant. Do I have potential symptoms of pregnancy? Sure. I get them every month – some on my own and some thanks to Clomid. Sore and very tender breasts (Clomid), cramping, peeing constantly (this one is new and perhaps signals an impending bladder infection  or my mind playing tricks with my body), hungry all the time, bloating, moody (more intense with Clomid), tired. But, who would continue to believe when two pregnancy tests negate the possibility of pregnancy? This does not mean I have not indulged in some web-surfing to find other women who had the same issue (negative tests and no period) but wound up being PG13 (pregnant). I think it is an anomaly that might happen to a few random women (getting false negative tests), but many more women have this same situation and truly are not pregnant. I think I fall into the latter category. I hope to put this to rest for good tomorrow morning. I can’t stand to live in this confusing limbo!

Now what?!

     My period was imminent. The nurse told me it would come "any minute now" on Monday. It hasn't. The spotting (which at it's heaviest hardly required a panty liner) has nearly stopped. STOPPED! And, so now I am going insane! What could possibly be wrong NOW?! I was supposed to call the office when my period started. I know my period and it definitely requires more than a panty liner. The spotting gets heavier until the full flow (or, as I call it, gushing) is here, at times soaking through tampons onto pads. Uh, that has not happened. Will it happen? How long do I wait? What if there is something else wrong with me?! Tomorrow is Thursday and my period was due Tuesday. I will call the Infertility Doctor tomorrow and tell them what is going on. And try not to lose my mind in the meantime. I mean, who ever heard of such a crazy thing? If I am not pregnant, then I want to get my period and get over it to prepare for next month. I don't want to deal with more waiting and random, lingering spotting. Why can't my body cooperate just this once?

Moving on

 Still waiting for Aunt Flo to get her act together here – just random, annoying spotting. I will need to return to the office on day 2 or 3 of my cycle for yet another blood test and to get the tube-checking extravaganza scheduled and underway. And then? Who knows. I think we will try the Clomid again, with the metaformin and perhaps an IUI (turkey basting the little spermies up there). The office is checking if my insurance will cover a round of Clomid with an IUI (I know they don’t cover the Clomid, but that is not expensive). So, I am thinking this month is a dud. Perhaps we will be like all the little woodland creatures and get pregnant in the Spring – no, wait they have their babies in the Spring. . . . So much for that!
     I am trying to feel better about things and life in general. I had my mourning and then my hissy-fit and now I am moving-on. Before we started the treatments with the Infertility Doctor, I was in a better place mentally. I was able to let a glimmer of hope slip into my mind, but I always peppered it with healthy doses of reality. “It could happen this month, but you should not expect too much.” If I don’t let my hopes get too high, I can prevent the inevitable crash and burn of disappointment. This month, I let my hopes soar! I imagined going through the summer pregnant, telling people I was pregnant, and having my baby in my arms in time for the holidays. And when the reality arrived via spotting Friday night, I was hurtled back to the deepest depths of disappointment and despair. So, the way I see it, I have to squash the large quantities of hope that try to wiggle their way in at the beginning of the month; I have to forget there is such a thing as “the two week wait” and just expect that the results might not be what I want them to be. If I don’t get sooooo high on optimism then I won’t plummet so far into anguish. Simple infertility math. Now, to put it into action. . . .
     See, I truly want to be more optimistic. I want to think of myself as infallibly optimistic, but in this case I find myself left in excruciating pain if optimism doesn’t yield the outcome I desire. I want to be positive. I find it more helpful to be positive when I think “I will get pregnant, some day,” rather than, “I will get pregnant this month!” I guess because I believe I will get pregnant some day, and if I don’t get pregnant this month, I can still keep on believing the same thing. But, conversely, if I believe I will get pregnant this month and I don’t, then I feel like it is the end and we will never get pregnant, so what’s the point in hoping. I was reading a lot on line this past weekend and I found an article relating a study which discovered women who are struggling with infertility have the same levels of depression as someone with a terminal illness. I think it is the feeling of being so out-of-control over what is happening to or with our bodies, that causes such deep depression.
     So, Friday night (before my world came crashing down around me) I was out to dinner with a bunch of girlfriends from work. We were celebrating one of the women getting a new (better paying) job. I was talking to a woman who is the mother of 3 teenage sons (well, I guess the youngest is only 12). She has been a foster mother for 7-8 years and has had over 17 children in her home. She is now in the process of adopting one of her foster children – a beautiful baby girl named Ali. This friend does not know we are struggling with infertility, but I did let her know I would like to adopt someday, but my husband is opposed to this idea. She told me she recommends anyone thinking about adoption become a foster parent first because it gives you an idea of what it will be like. It is also possible to adopt a child you have been fostering and have formed a relationship with. I felt like this was a worthy cause to investigate. I presented the idea to Flaco Sunday night. His knee-jerk reaction was to reiterate his decision not to adopt and to nix the idea of foster care. I begged him to seriously consider it – as a way to help me. See, I think having a child to care for (we could not take a teenager in our home, just younger children or babies) would help me. I would have a child to mother, care for, clean up after, and love; even if it is briefly. Last night we were discussing this idea in more detail and Flaco said he doesn’t think he could do it because he would care too much for the child and it would hurt too much when the child is taken back to his/her family. I know that part will be hard, but I truly feel like this would help me to relax a little bit and not feel the affects of infertility so deeply and acutely. Our home would not feel so empty every month. Not to mention that there is such a need for good foster families and we would be doing something to help a child in need. Just having a new out-let of things to do and prepare for, will help me get my mind off of my broken girly parts; it will give me something to look forward to.
     So, I am asking any infertility sister out there: have you considered becoming a foster parent? If you are a foster parent, does it help like I think it might or hurt as much as Flaco thinks it will? I would love to hear personal stories of someone who has walked this path, if you are willing to share.