When all the stars align...

Do you ever have those moments where you're not sure which direction you're heading but you do know it's the right way?

That's how this past year has felt for us. 

We have absolutely no idea where our story will take us.

We have no idea in which direction our life will go.

Will we have no children, one child or multiple children by the time our time in this world is over?

Who knows.  

Doesn't matter.

What does matter is that we keep putting one foot in front of the other.

What does matter is that we love and appreciate each day as it comes.

What does matter is that we keep our eye on ultimately ending up with the title of mommy and daddy.

And I feel this hand on my back gently guiding my way…our way.

I get giddy when I have those opportunities to look back and actually see the way God's hand has been in all of it.  Like a puppeteer orchestrating the perfect show.

When Paul and I were asked to be in the 2014 Race to Parenthood, I knew it was because Paul worked with Brad and the race was Brad's wife's idea.  But I hadn't thought much about it after that.

But getting us BACK in the race?

Now that's where the magic…the perfectly timed pieces all fell into place.

When the applications came in for the 2015 Race to Parenthood, each past 2014 couple had to choose their top choices for couples to mentor.  Based on our choices, we were each given a new couple.  

What are the odds that Paul and I felt so connected to one specific couple and that they were actually given to us to mentor?  How was it that this particular couple became compelled to fill out a race application?  

We were thrilled for the newest team yellow.

We were also thrilled for them when we found out that through their own miraculous reasons they needed to back out of the race.

The morning we found out that the newest yellow team was pulling out of the race was almost exactly one month after one of our darkest days of despair.  I'm referring to the day when my third chemical pregnancy was confirmed.  When all hope seemed lost because we didn't know how we'd get to that next step in our journey.  And in one month we toyed around with several options.  T-shirt fundraisers, yard sales galore, a gofundme account. Unsure of which path we'd choose, we trusted our instincts to hold out until after the holidays.  

Insert God's hand steering our hearts and our heads.

And in one short month it looked like an amazing opportunity was possibly presenting itself.

I was in Pennsylvania at my uncle's house when I got the news.

When the conversation began about a possible second chance.

I asked my family for their opinions.

I weighed all the options, both out loud and in my heart.

I prayed.

And I put one foot in front of the other and went to visit my grandma for the first time in her new home…the health care unit of a retirement community.

When we got there my grandma had just been wheeled into lunch. 

My two sisters and I left my mom to eat with her and we went to scout out the facility.

Just outside the elevator doors a nurse and a CNA were having a conversation. 

I was in my own little world…critiquing the facility in only a way another retirement community employee can do.

As the elevator doors were closing my sister looked at me wide eyed and said "Katie, did you hear what they were talking about?"

Being in my own world, I hadn't. 

She said the conversation went as follows.

Nurse: "So, how far along are you?"

CNA: "12 weeks"

Nurse: "Have you found adoptive parents yet?"

CNA: "No, I just started looking at adoptive parent profiles."

And the elevator doors closed.

I immediately hit the up button and told my sister I was going to talk to that CNA.

If you know me, you know this is a break from my norm.  

I absolutely loathe talking to strangers.  

Us introverts are usually exhausted and strained by conversations with people we don't know.

But I felt that hand guiding me and pushing me forward and so I went with it.

The doors reopened and luckily the CNA and nurse were still there.  I went to her, apologized for eavesdropping, and told her what a beautiful, miraculous, amazingly gracious thing she was doing.  That I didn't know her or her story, but the world needs more like her.  That the gift she was about to give someone was going to be more wonderful and beautiful than she could ever imagine. I briefly shared our story with her and then she hit me with a question I didn't expect.

"Do you want to adopt?"

I told her that we didn't know which direction our life would take us. I gave a shameless plug for the Race to Parenthood.  I told her that my main reason for speaking up was to provide her with some gentle encouragement and reassurance. I thanked her for her selfless decision.

And then I went about my day.

It was one of those days where I looked up and told Him that I was listening loud and clear.  

That I was grateful for a day in which all the signs seemed to be pointing us in the right direction.

Back to yellow.

Back to home. 

'Tis the Season

Every now and then when I'm in the middle of doing something incredibly ordinary I get an in-the-face reminder of how long we've been on this journey.  And, honestly, it kind of makes me stagger back a bit, lose my balance, my heart jumps into my throat and then I have to work through that momentary shock. 

 

I think those brief reality checks will always have a way of creeping up on me and there just isn't a way to guard my heart against them because I never really expect them.

 

Back in 2009 I bought an awesome Christmas book and I have detailed every tiny little thing about our Christmas season in it for the past 5 years.  I'm sad our first two years aren't in the book, but I'm grateful for the years that are and the memories it provides. 

 

So, when it makes its yearly appearance I usually read through it.

And that's when it happened. 

The very last sentence I wrote in 2009.

 

 

And I realize that was FIVE years ago already. 

The house was still and quiet while I was reading, the only sound I could hear was the flickering from the candle flame.

In that moment, as I felt time actively slipping through my fingers, the newest addition to our house chimed.

 

How appropriate.

 

 

My grandmother was recently moved out of her apartment and into a Health Care Center at a retirement community and consequently many of her belongings were divvied up between the family members.

Somehow no one had yet claimed this clock.

Every time it chimes, I'm reminded of my grandfather who passed away a little over a month after we were married.  I'm reminded of all the times, as a child, I would open the glass front to stop the arm so it wouldn't chime all through the night and keep me awake at my grandparent's house.  

I'm happy it somehow found it's new home at my house (not that I gave any of my other family members an option to take it). 

 

 

Luckily for me, my reality checks are usually fleeting.  I've learned over the past seven years how to regroup myself very quickly. 

It helps that I love everything about December.

 

Like celebrating my marriage to this man.

     And embracing the world through my niece's eyes.

 

 

And being silly and childlike.

 

 

 

And embracing all the Hope that surrounds this time of year.



 

Just as quickly as it came, it passes, and peace settles in.

 

Happy Thanksgiving

 

 

I don't really have much to say other than Thank You.

 

Thank you for your kind words, for your support, for offering to pitch in in any way possible.

 

We read your comments and feel your desire to help us come through the computer.

 

I want you to know something.

Sometimes I feel the need to clarify a few things, because I know the voice in which I write can never really be conveyed through words on a computer screen accurately.

 

I never, ever write a blog post in a complaining or whining voice.

Rarely will I write when I am sad, because those moments are so fleeting and it's hard to catch them. 

Occasionally, I will write when I am angry.  When my emotions are real and raw.

But, I will always write gratefully, humbly, positively, factually and happily.

 

Yesterday's blog post was nothing more than a realistic look at what people going through infertility face everyday. 

We are not the first.  We will not be the last.

Unless you are lucky enough to live in one of the only 15 states that requires insurance cover infertility treatments, the financial burdens will always be the biggest hurdle.

It's the reason I scoff when celebrities want to talk about their infertility woes.

Money won't buy you happiness, but it will buy you chance after chance.

 

Our journey has become so much easier because of coming out into the open with our story.

Because people like you feel our pain and offer to help.

My heart breaks for couple's who aren't at the point of sharing yet.

Because they are struggling with the locked up emotions, the secretness and carrying the financial burden on their own.

We've been there.

 

Many of you have suggested a Go Fund Me page.

Many of you have offered to create one for us.

We are grateful. 

And maybe one day, we'll get to that point.

 

But here's the thing for us.

We have always viewed Go Fund Me pages as a place to help those going through a tragedy.

Our infertility struggles are not a tragedy.

They are a trial. They are a tiny speed bump in the road.  Most days I choose to view this journey as a blessing.  And for the life of me, I can't figure out how to wrap my head around a Go Fund Me page for something we consider to be ultimately positive.

I'm not saying it doesn't downright suck, but I am saying things could be far worse.

 

I give you actual cost breakdowns so you are armed with knowledge and awareness.

So when a random person, friend or family member opens up to you about their struggles, you'll know it's much more than emotional.

You'll know the financial burden is probably weighing the heaviest on their shoulders.

You'll know to offer to cook them dinner and have a movie or game night in instead of suggesting the fanciest restaurant in town. 

 

Paul and I went through an eye opening financial class two years ago.

I wish we would have known about it when we got married.

It's biblically based and for anyone interested it's called Financial Peace University. 

This is the reason we are so focused on saving up first this time around.

We just refuse to go more into debt. It's that simple.

 

For anyone wondering about the funds raised through our participation in The Race to Parenthood, we have used up all $5,225.  The majority of it went to doing our Frozen Embryo Transfer, some paid for the donor sperm, and some went towards doctor visits and paying to store our last vial of donor sperm.

 

We want to see what we can do on our own, too.

That's not a pride thing.

It's a realistic awareness that you have your own families, your own struggles,

your own needs to meet, your own emergencies.

 

Things will really kick into high gear after the New Year.

Paul is scheduled (hopefully) to return to day shift very soon (Praise God!).  This will allow him significantly more opportunities for overtime.  He will be actively trying to sell his beloved Harley. 

I'll be taking on as many cookie orders as I can (without killing my wrist or losing my sanity).

Drastic times call for drastic measures.

 

In the early part of 2015, we'll probably do a t-shirt fundraiser.

If you're going to donate and help us out, then I'd love for you to get a little something in return.

This could just be a selfish move on my part, cause I'm always on the hunt for reasons to get new t-shirts.  I'm still exercising in my sorority shirts and the other day I realized the shirt I was wearing was eleven years old already!!!!

 

So, as you have kept us in your thoughts and prayers, we will be thinking of each of you, too.

We pray that during this holiday season, you never lose sight of its true meaning.

We pray that when the to-do list seems long, the days short, and your patience even shorter, that you remember to take the time to love on your little ones...or your family & friend's little ones...or your four-legged little ones.

We pray that you keep a little bit of that childlike wonder in your heart and your mind.

 

May your hearts be fuller than your stomachs.

Happy Thanksgiving.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Adopting a what?

Let's talk Embryo Adoption for a minute.

 

You'll have to forgive me.  I've been in this infertility world for so long that I often forget most people hardly know this world exists and certainly aren't aware of all the terms and what they mean.

 

Recently an article started circulating its way around social media about a baby born from embryo adoption.  Naturally, it had a warm and fuzzy happy ending. 

 

It's one of those stories that gives people not in this world a false sense that this stuff is almost easy...like we can just snap our fingers and viola...baby.

It's one of those stories that makes people actually in this world kind of want to scream. 

 

It's kind of like how everyone has a cousin's, best friend's, sister's, aunt who couldn't have kids so they decided to adopt and then she magically got pregnant.

 

I'm sure that has happened, but it sure as shit hasn't happened to anyone I know.

And I know a lot of people struggling with infertility.

 

It's not to say it can't or won't happen.

It just means that it's a long and difficult process.

 

So, let's talk a little bit about Embryo Adoption.

 

(If you already understand all of this, my apologies for the extra descriptions.)

 

I have found that many people misuse the term IVF to represent any/all infertility treatments.

IVF, or In-Vitro Fertilization, is one treatment, one option. 

It's super expensive. 

It involves taking meds to suppress a woman's natural cycle, then taking meds to up her egg production, then going through an egg retrieval process (under anesthesia), then obtaining a sperm sample, then (if you choose ICSI) having the egg inserted with one sperm-thus creating an embryo, then 3-5 days later, having the embryos transferred into the woman's uterus. 

The drugs cost a LOT of money...usually between $2,500-$3,500.

The retrieval is the most expensive...between $8,000-$12,000...add on the average $500 for the anesthesia.

The ICSI process can run from $1,000-$2,000.

The fresh transfer will usually be included in the retrieval fee....a separate Frozen Embryo Transfer will average $2,500-$3,500 (because you typically need to be taking some meds & pay for the thawing of the embryos).

Then there are the Sperm Washing fees, potential blood work fees, etc.

 

Embryo Adoption is significantly cheaper because the actual IVF process has already been completed.

An average Embryo Adoption (when all is said and done) will cost between $5,000-$10,000.

 

And it's absolutely, awfully ludicrous that people in this infertility world consider this the 'cheap' option.

 

Another consideration is which agency/clinic to go through to find your embryos.

 

When we met with our RE last week, he called VaIVF (the only clinic that serves all of the Richmond area), and they currently have no embryos up for adoption.  Their average waiting time between available embryos is 6-9 months and that doesn't even include the actual list of people waiting for embryos.

 

Or, do we want to pursue embryo adoption through an actual adoption agency?

Believe it or not, there are numerous adoption agencies who specialize in embryo adoptions.

 

And you have to take usual adoption factors into consideration. 

Like, do you want a closed, semi-open or open adoption? 

You have to make a photo album for the potential donors to choose from...which let me tell you...I HATE.  It's just so freakin' fake.  Obviously, people only include the positives, their very best and those books don't paint an accurate picture of you or yourself as a couple.  What I really want to say is "Here's a link to my fb page...check it out."  You'll not only be able to see all my photos, but you'll also be able to see my statuses, what links I like and who my friends are. 

Facebook will paint a better picture of who we really are and will save me countless hours trying to make a pretentious shutterfly photo book.

 

But the biggest kicker when it comes to embryo adoption is that we're still required to do a home study.  And I get why.  Realistically, I really understand this. 

But I am so, so peeved that I have to spend (according to this one website) $1,400 to have someone come into my home to make sure it's safe.  $1,400 for someone to judge us and our home.

And, honestly, it kind of makes me want to barf.

I get sick to my stomach thinking about all the kids that are born to unfit parents in awful conditions and because they could conceive without thinking about it, they just don't have to go through this.

 

And I haven't even talked about the almost $400 application fee.

Maybe that's what we'll get each other for Christmas.

 

Remember, that an embryo is already created.

Which means that we're on the hunt for an embryo with parents who are kinda, sorta like Paul and I.

Which negates a LOT of embryos already.

 

Soooo many avenues, so many variables...My head is spinning.

 

So, yes...we will at some point be pursuing embryo adoption. 

But we still need to save up close to $6,000 (or at least $1,400 to begin with) and probably more to account for various fees (lawyers, labwork, travel expenses.)

Because we are older and (hopefully) a little more wiser, we refuse to put ourselves more in debt.  Which means no loans, no extra credit cards. 

Which means we'll be saving and saving all while trying to live life as normally as possible.

 

So, if you see us walking around a parking lot, hunched over...cut us some slack...we're on the hunt for spare change.

 

 

 

P.S. For those super interested, my chromosome panel came back normal.  Naturally.

 

Cytogenetic analysis of PHA stimulated cultures has

revealed a FEMALE karyotype with an apparently normal GTG

banding pattern in all cells observed.

This result does not exclude the possibility of subtle

rearrangements below the resolution of cytogenetics or

congenital anomalies due to other etiologies.

 

 

Which is pretty much exactly what my doc thought it would say.

 

 

 

 

 

 



Meeting in the middle

Infertility is one those things in life that is so freaking ugly, it's beautiful.

 

And I'm not referring to the medication side effects, or periods, or miscarriages or internal ultrasounds over and over again kind of ugly.

 

I'm talking about the havoc it wreaks on your soul, your mind, your body, your bank account and your marriage kind of ugly.

 

Here goes another blog post about some of the more hush-hush areas of infertility.

 

My doctor (Dr.T) called me yesterday and informed me he had spoken with another doctor (Dr. M) at VaIVF to get a sort of second opinion/what the heck can we tell this poor couple scrounging around desperately for answers?  Dr. T told Dr. M that he had come down rather harshly on my eggs.  I reassured Dr. T that my eggs and I are tough and can handle the truth.  Dr. M pointed out that they don't typically like to freeze embryos on Day 1 anymore...which nine of mine were.  Dr. T was encouraged (as encouraged as you can be with such a crapshoot) that I had at least one 3+ embryo from a Day 1 frozen 3 day transfer and that it had started to do something. They both felt like it was unfair to rule out all of my eggs based off of ONE IVF fresh cycle (though-still with the warning that my eggs don't obviously like to do what they're supposed to do).

 

So, yesterday I started to tell Paul all my thoughts on our future steps. 

(Keep in mind that for years we have said one IVF round is all we were going to try.)

 

And, it got ugly.

 

Because we are real people, with real emotions, talking about a subject that cuts each of us to the core in different ways.

 

Paul instantly goes negative.

I instantly go positive.

 

We always have. We probably always will.

And I 100% say it's because of our chosen professions.

 

A cop is taught to always be on the lookout for the threat.  To stop the threat.  And in today's society, to be leery of every situation...even good deeds or well meaning intentions can go severely wrong.  He is trained to focus on the worst case scenario...and then work his way through it.

He puts on a bullet proof vest almost everyday and lives in a reality where someone could attack him at any moment.

He sees the worst of the worst. 

The worst situations, the worst of humanity and his vision through which he sees the world becomes just a little jaded.

And that's okay.

 

I work with really old people.  People who have dementia. People trying desperately to remember and cling to their happiest memories.  People I have to remind of their happy memories. People who tell me EVERY day to appreciate what I have. Who remind me that my years on this earth are short and to make each moment count.  People who still believe in praying and loving God.  People who believe in working hard and staying positive.  People who lived through and survived the Depression, WWII, and the Cold War.  People who believe in supporting, uplifting and encouraging each other. 

I see the best of the best.

The best situations, the best of humanity and my vision through which I see the world becomes just a little jaded.

And that's okay, too.

 

Paul tethers me to the ground and I encourage him to dream.

And somewhere along the way, we meet in the middle.

 

Paul knows I need to try first...whether it's something as simple as fixing a toilet or as large as  bringing a baby into this world.

And I know he needs to see the worst first...to protect his heart, to prepare his mind...whether it's something as simple as fixing a toilet or as large as bringing a baby into this world.

 

I process situations by focusing on what I know to be true.
 I squelch the what if's because I'll tackle it when it happens-IF it even happens. 

 

And what I know to be true is this.

 

*These are the years that count.  I have a small window of time where my body can safely carry a baby and I intend to not waste anymore of these years.

*I am not willing to quit.

*I can foster when I am in my 40's-50's and child bearing is completely off the table.
*I know that we do not have the money for more IVF, but that with penny pinching, drastic measures, and fundraisers galore we just might be able to pull it off.
*I am stubborn and determined and refused to look back on these years feeling as though I have not done enough to fight infertility.

And all of those very true statements lead us to this.

Saving for a Shared Risk Cycle of IVF.
Which means we need to save up about $30,000.

Thirty.Thousand.Freaking.Dollars

Which would also pay off our 2nd mortgage...or my car and my student loans combined.

But those bills can be paid off later.
Right now...I mentally and emotionally need to give us one more shot at IVF.

I'll explain more about the cost breakdown and specifics in the next blog post.

As for now. It's one foot in front of the other. 
It's dreaming big.
Because big dreams don't happen without big risks.

It's learning, loving, and growing together that make this beautiful.
And always, always meeting in the middle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Somewhere. Somehow.

I often define the past seven years as our 'infertility journey'.  

What I have realized is that I have been describing all but one year of our marriage.  

And after today's news, I can't bear the thought of possibly lumping the next x amount of years into the same category…under the same title. 

This is our married life and I'll be darned if I want something perceived to be negative hanging over it. 

Because, honestly, we're going to be on this journey for a long, long time.

Today's doctor's appointment really only confirmed what's been sitting in the back of my mind for a long while.

There's a hitch in my egg's giddy up. 

Somewhere. Somehow.

Every time I start to think about what could potentially be our issue, I am reminded of the fact that most of our 18 embryos died in a petri dish before day 5.  And that negates anything that could go wrong in my womb.  

Our doctor says they don't typically write off all eggs based on ONE IVF retrieval.  

But, funds are limited around these parts and it looks like that's what we're going to have to do.

Our doctor also said that out of the 84+ eggs my body has ovulated during our married life, one of them should have worked, especially when all other tests come back normal.

While incredibly different, infertility and cancer are A LOT alike. 

Not just the emotions associated with both of these horrible diseases, not just the processing of information that your body is doing something that is completely out of your control, but also the science aspect.

There is no known cure for Alzheimer's.  There is no known cure for cancer.  There is no known cure for infertility.

There are a lot of drugs and treatments and so many different combinations of the drugs/treatments that there is no for sure right way to treat.

Sure they can tell you you have ovarian, testicular, lung, breast, prostate, bone….etc…cancer, but they can't tell you the exact when, why or how your body started to produce those cancerous cells.

Sure they can tell us that males sometimes have crappy sperm or women sometimes have crappy eggs but they can't tell you the exact when, why or how they got to be that way.  

Those unknowns won't ever change unless fundraising shifts away from the 'treatments' and goes towards the 'cause'.  

And, let's be honest, most of us fighting these life altering battles want treatments.  

Because we want a solution to our problems.
Somewhere. Somehow.

My doctor didn't have the results back yet from my chromosome panel.  He said they would be looking for something obvious….like maybe two chromosomes stuck together where they shouldn't be.  But, other than that, there are literally thousands of genes involved in embryo development and scientifically there isn't enough research behind the where, the why and the how to pinpoint those genes or their flukes.

Which means I'll have to come to terms with the fact that my eggs are just shotty.

Which also means that our next step involves either using an egg donor or adopting an embryo.

Embryo donation is definitely cheaper, but has a way longer waiting list.

Egg donor would be ideal because we would love to use Paul's sperm, but that is like doing IVF all over again.

So, it looks like we're putting ourselves back on a five year plan.  

Pinching every penny while still trying to live and enjoy and embrace life (family vacations, date nights, etc.)

Don't laugh when I start begging y'all to buy a t-shirt to help raise some money for our next step.

I've got two tag lines running through my head for a t-shirt design.

"I spent my dough on this shirt so my friends could put a bun in her oven."

or

"I bought this lousy t-shirt so my friends could buy their baby."  

I need sarcasm and humor in everything.

And I know you want to rock a Tee for the Z's.  

(Okay-more about possible t-shirts later.)

My point is that this journey is going to be long and expensive.

We've got the resolve and determination.

I'll dive into a little more behind our appointment in another blog post, as for now…I'll count my blessings and marvel in the joy of getting to walk through life with my best friend and my love.  

And that's all I need.  

We'll conquer this parenting thing.

Somewhere. Somehow.

Elementary School Science

Last week I had some blood work done. 

 

More than just some, I guess you could say.  More like giving eight vials of blood.

 

It was suppose to be seven, but the nurse had a 'whoopsie' and removed the needle after six, stuck me in the other arm, messed up vial #7 and had to get #8. 

I've seen more of LabCorp than I ever cared to.

 

 

The doctor ran a chromosome test and a thrombotic something or other test.  I haven't seen the results yet and it's been another lesson in patience. 

 

As is the case with every scenario I find myself in, I've done a lot of research over the past week. 

 

It never once occurred to me seven years ago that our issue could start at the most basic level...the cell.

 

Suddenly words like phospholipid, cell membrane, endoplasmic reticulum, etc. are all floating in my head again and I'm desperately trying to visualize my styrofoam cell structure project I did in elementary school (or was it middle school?). 

 

Turns out...these things are really crucial to the development of an embryo.

 

Duh.

 

But I mean like really, really important. 

 

And I'm praying somewhere in that blood work something is glaringly, blatantly wrong.

 

Because if I have to follow up questions with more questions for very much longer I just might scream.

 

Or eat more ice cream.

 

I have a co-worker who likes to say to me "Gosh, Katie, you know more about baby making than anyone else!"  Usually I want to reply back with an "Obviously I don't or I would have made one by now!"

 

But I know what she means. 

Everyday I become more aware of just how miraculous it is to conceive.

 

When you really stop to consider all of the bajillion (yes, I meant baJillion) things that can go wrong, it's a wonder any of us are here at all. 

 

 

 

P.S. In case you are interested, here's a look at what we'll be diving into/discussing with our doctor at our next appointment! 

 

What the crap does all this mean???!!!