The day after my hospital discharge for my OHSS, I had to go back to the fertility clinic for another blood test to make sure my hormone levels were still on track. I continued taking the low dose aspirin and also doing my daily progesterone shots. I had to buy a few maternity clothes because even my t-shirts were too tight around my stomach. I liked the idea of seeing myself in these maternity clothes that I had been longing to wear for the past 2 years. But instead of framing a beautiful baby bump, it was serous fluid accumulating in my abdominal cavity. I had strangers congratulating me on my pregnancy and asking my due date. I didn't even know what to say, because most assumed I was around 7 or eight months along. Telling these people I was only 4 weeks pregnant brought on some bizarre reactions. I tried to tell myself each day that soon, my body would rid itself of this fluid and I would get to focus on just my pregnancy. Soon all these symptoms would disappear and I'd have the baby I'd longed for. That kept me going each day.
When I was 5 weeks pregnant, I started having a new symptom. I had a low grade fever. I thought maybe this was brought on by stress. My body was notorious for low grade fevers when I was dealing with stressful situations and lack of sleep. In fact, it was very common for me to start having a low grade fever, and then a week later be in a doctor's office with strep throat. I started trying to get extra sleep and hope it would resolve itself.
But a few days later, I felt much worse. My lungs had started to hurt and I was having even more difficulty breathing than before. I emailed Dr. R. He said the office was about to close, but that he wanted me to come in anyway. I rushed to get Meredith and myself ready as quickly as possible. When I arrived, he checked all my vitals and my lungs. He didn't see anything alarming, and told me that the issues I was having were all most likely from a pleural effusion. Some of the abdominal fluid had made its way into my lungs. This was another condition that should resolve itself, so I headed back home.
Over that weekend, I continued to feel worse. By Sunday, I asked my husband to page Dr. R and let him know that things were not improving. I told my husband that I thought I was coming down with pneumonia. I'd never had so much pain in my lungs before and my breathing was much shallower. My chest was also hurting every time I tried to take a deep breath. Dr. R called in an antibiotic and told my husband that he wanted me to come to his office the next day.
I started the antibiotic on Sunday, and by the time I was on my way to see Dr. R on Monday, I did feel that maybe I was on the upswing. At his office, Dr. R checked my vitals and my lungs. He said that he could hear something in my right lung that was most likely the pleural effusion. He was glad to hear that I felt better after starting the antibiotic, but wanted me to have an x-ray anyway. He also told me that he was concerned that I may have a blood clot, but that it was most likely just fluid. If the x-ray showed fluid or signs of pneumonia, we would assume that was the cause of my new symptoms. If not, we would go from there. Dr. R said he would also do an ultrasound, as I requested. The ultrasound still showed the signs of a single baby growing, but we couldn't see a heartbeat just yet.
Dr. R's office was located inside the hospital, directly above the radiology department, so having an x-ray was fairly simple. I was very nervous though, about exposing my growing baby to radiation, even if I was going to be wearing a protective vest. I was also worried that we hadn't seen a heartbeat during the ultrasound. From all the research I had done, I knew that the chances of having an early miscarriage after IVF were higher than for a naturally conceived baby. I prayed that during the next ultrasound, I would see a heartbeat.
When the results of the x-ray came back, they did show fluid in my lungs, so I simply continued taking my antibiotics. When I woke up the next day, I went in to brush my teeth, and had an overwhelming desire to cough. When I did, I felt a large amount of sputum in my mouth and I spit into the sink. It was red. I had never seen anything like that before, but I was convinced that I had pneumonia, and I knew that could produce rust colored sputum. I told my husband about it and he wanted to call Dr. R. "I'm feeling a lot better and my lungs aren't hurting as much," I told him. "Let's just wait."
The next day morning, was just the same. My lung pain was almost completely gone, but I was still having a pain in my chest when I took deep breaths. The lung pain had been so severe before, that I barely noticed the pain I was having beneath my breast bone. Now it seemed very apparent. My husband told me he was going to email Dr. R. He got a reply within minutes. The doctor told him to get me to the office and he seemed alarmed. He also told my husband that he was out of town and that I would need to see the other doctor in the practice, Dr. K. I didn't want to see a different doctor. Dr. R was so patient and kind and he really listened when I talked to him. But I had no choice.
When we arrived, I let the receptionist know that I didn't have an appointment. She must have already known that I was coming and the nurse emerged almost immediately from behind the door. The nurse led Doug, Meredith and me down a different hallway than I was used to and into a room. Dr. K came in very soon after. He had already been notified of all the symptoms and let me know that Dr. R was worried I may have a pulmonary embolism. He told me he didn't think it was very likely but it was a very serious condition and we needed to be sure. He listened to my lungs and asked me a few questions and told me he wanted me to have a CT scan. "How far along are you?" He asked. "I'm exactly 6 weeks," I told him. He asked if we'd seen the heartbeat yet. I told him no. He wanted to do another ultrasound.
We were taken into another room and I laid back on the table. Meredith played Hide-and-Seek with Doug behind a curtain as we waited for Dr. K to come in. When he started the ultrasound he stopped right away on a huge mass that was one of my hyperstimulated ovaries. It looked nothing like it did before the IVF. He then moved toward my uterus. He scanned around for what seemed like forever. Doug looked uneasy. I felt like I couldn't breathe. This time it wasn't from the fluid in my stomach or whatever was in my lungs. It was from fear. Fear that I wouldn't see a heartbeat. That I would walk out of that office that day and somehow go on with my life knowing I wasn't pregnant. I strained my eyes but saw no movement on the screen. Then there it was. A tiny flicker. My eyes welled up with tears. It was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen, that tiny heart beating. Dr. K then explained that I would be going back down to radiology for a CT scan. I don't even know what he said after that. The nurse had brought me a picture of the ultrasound and all I could do was stare at it.
We headed down to radiology, the whole time I stared down at my little picture. I dressed in a gown and they took me back to a room and I laid on the table. The radiologist explained the procedure. Then he explained that there were risks when a CT scan is performed during pregnancy. My heart sank. I had just seen the heart beating for the first time and now I was supposed to have something done to my body that might hurt the tiny baby growing inside me. I almost got off the table right then. But the radiologist told me that if I did have a pulmonary embolism it was much more dangerous to me and the baby if I didn't have the scan. So I gave my consent.
I sat there after the scan starring at my picture wondering what I had done. Then the technician told me I needed to go back up to see Dr. K. Doug had stayed downstairs with Meredith, where she could play. Dr. K met me as I stepped off the elevator. "You've got a pulmonary embolism," he told me. "You're going to be admitted to the hospital for a week and they are going to give you a drug that will break up the clot. Then you will be on an anticoagulant for the duration of your pregnancy. You'll have to see a pulmonologist for the rest of your life." I was shocked. I called Doug and told him they were taking me over to the hospital and he needed to come upstairs. I got in the wheelchair and looked down at my picture. "I'm sorry little baby," I thought. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."
When I arrived at the women's center in the hospital, I was immediately put on Heparin. Doug called his mom and asked her to come get Meredith. I called my mom and gave her the news and she left work to come to the hospital. My mom was there when the pulmonologist arrived. She was distressed as he explained how severe a pulmonary embolism can be. A pulmonary embolism is when a blood clot lodges itself in the lung or lungs. The problem with this is that blood can't flow freely through the lungs. This prevents oxygen from reaching the lungs and makes the heart have to put more effort into pushing blood through the lungs. It can permanently damage the heart. The pulmonologist, Dr. B, said he would send me to have an ultrasound on my heart to see if it had been affected. I would also have an ultrasound on both calves because in most cases, pulmonary embolism is caused by blood clots that travel to your lungs from another part of your body- most commonly, your legs. I was also told that the anticoagulant- Lovenox- that I would be on during my pregnancy would be a shot that would need to be administered every 12 hours. Then when I was approaching my due date, I would be taken off the Lovenox and an inferior vena cava filter would be implanted. This filter would protect me from another PE during labor, when I would be unable to receive anticoagulants. I was somewhat overwhelmed by everything, but looking at the picture of my little tiny baby made me feel blessed.
Dr. R called me a few hours after I was admitted to let me know he was on his way to the hospital. In the mean time, I was taken for ultrasounds on both my heart and legs. When Dr. R arrived he let me know that the ultrasound on my heart had come back normal and the ultrasounds on my legs showed no signs of clotting. Had he not put me on the low dose aspirin when he did, things may have been much worse.
The next few days in the hospital were tough. I felt like I was in a prison cell and I wanted to go home. The good news was, I had plenty of family and friends to come visit me and keep me positive. Plus, my body was finally ridding itself of the fluid I had been carrying around in my abdomen. Then there was also a trip coming up that Doug and I had planned. Every year we would go to the OU vs. Texas football game and it was something that I looked forward to the whole year. In fact, each year, Doug would tell me I could pick anywhere in the world I wanted to go on vacation, and every year I would pick that football game. The problem was, I had plenty of people who didn't want me going. I felt after all I'd been through I should be allowed to go on a vacation where I could focus on the future. It had been a stressful year and I was in serious need of an escape. Others were worried about my health and traveling so soon after such a serious medical complication. In the end, I decided to go. But it didn't go anything like I had planned.
Surviving In-Vitro
Monday, February 22, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome
The day after my positive pregnancy test, I woke up to my sweet daughter whispering in my ear. "Mom, the baby is really growing big in there." She pointed to my stomach. I looked down, shocked to see what looked like a five month pregnant belly. I got out of bed and got on the scale. I had gained another 4 pounds in just the last day. The collection of fluid in my abdomen is known as ascites. One of the complications that can arise after having IVF. I felt very nauseous my stomach hurt like crazy. I called Dr. R and let him know that my weight gain was continuing at a rapid rate. He told me to come in to see him.
When I arrived at the office, I checked in at the front desk. I let them know that I didn't have an appointment, but was told I could just come in. Almost immediately, Dr. R's nurse, Beverly, called my name. As I walked past her through the door, she looked at my stomach quite shocked. I told her that I'd gained about 12 pounds in the last three days. She took me into a room and checked my vitals and Dr. R came shortly after. I told him my symptoms and he made sure I was continuing the daily low dose aspirin and my nightly progesterone shots. He told me that the severity of my Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome was not in the mild range anymore and if my condition continued to worsen, I may need to be admitted to the hospital. Then he gave me some good news. He said he would do an ultrasound to see how many babies were growing inside me. They had transferred two embryos, and because of the way my OHSS was progressing, I think we were all betting on twins. But when he did the ultrasound, it revealed that just one had survived. I had lost one of my little embryos, but I still had one that was hanging on.
As the day continued, I began having problems eating. The fluid that was collecting in my abdominal cavity didn't leave much room for anything else. I also started having trouble breathing, which left me somewhat panicked. By that evening, I paged Dr. R. He called me back just minutes later and I told him my new symptoms. He told me I could go into the hospital and they could give me IV fluids. All the fluid in my body was going into my abdomen, which can result in dehydration and other complications. I packed an overnight bag and we headed to the hospital.
When we arrived, the hospital staff all assumed that I was there to deliver a baby due to the size of my stomach. They hooked me up to the IV, and all the nurses asked me my due date. "I'm only 4 weeks pregnant," I would answer.
Dr. R called me the next morning to see how I was feeling. I felt terrible. I knew I had gained at least 3 more pounds. He told me they might do a procedure on me called a paracentesis, where they insert a large needle into the abdominal cavity and drain the fluid. It sounded wonderful. Anything that would relieve me from what I was going through. He told me that they would be weighing me and checking my vitals and keeping him updated.
The next morning, they weighed me. I was still gaining weight. Dr. R had told me that at some point my weight would plateau and that my body would get rid of the fluid on its own. It was all just a matter of when. He said the paracentesis was still an option, but he wanted it to be a last resort. When Dr. R came to see me that day, I told him I was miserable. I don't know that I can describe what it feels like to have that much fluid sitting inside your stomach. It's not at all like being pregnant, even if that's how it looked. He told me he still wanted to wait, because it's always best to avoid a medical procedure unless it's completely necessary. I was still hoping to have it done, anything to alleviate the discomfort.
The phone rang, and I prayed it was Dr. R calling to tell me that he would have the fluid drained. It was him calling, but he wanted to wait until the morning to make the decision. I tried to choke back the tears that I could feel coming on. My nurse came in right as I was hanging up the phone. She asked if he had decided to do the procedure. But when I opened my mouth to answer her, I just started bawling. I got so worked up, she had to check my oxygen because I started having trouble breathing. After that, she left the room for a minute. Then my phone rang. I suspect that she called Dr. R, but I'm not really sure. All I know is that he had changed his mind and decided to send me in for the paracentesis.
They wheeled me down to radiology. It started with an ultrasound, to see the fluid and guide the needle. The needle was connected to a tube that was attached to a large glass bottle. This bottle is where the fluid would end up. The technician entered the large needle into the side of my stomach. That part didn't hurt much, but when it punctured my abdominal wall I almost immediately threw up. Another technician ran and grabbed a plastic bag and I held it to my face. I tried to take deep breaths as I watched the glass bottle fill up with fluid. When it was full, she quickly switched it out with another. And then another. When all was said and done, a total of 3.5 liters of fluid had been removed. I felt wonderful! My nausea had completely subsided and I could breath again. When I got back to my room, my mom was there and she had brought me a sandwich. I remember eating it and thinking it was the most delicious sandwich I'd ever had in my life. Dr. R came not long after. He couldn't believe how much fluid had been taken out. He told me that unfortunately, it may all come back. It was all up to my body. I decided I would enjoy the relief, even if it was only temporary.
Later that night, I could tell much of the fluid had returned. I was disappointed, but I was still able to get comfortable enough to sleep. I was discharged the next day, after being weighed and talking with Dr. R. He was confident that soon my weight would plateau and my body would get rid of this remaining fluid on it's own.
Over the next week I was very uncomfortable. I did a lot of reading about OHSS. Most everything I read told me that by the end of the first trimester, symptoms of OHSS would be gone. I decided I would take it one day at a time. I would have to deal with the nausea, shortness of breath, extreme discomfort, abdominal pain and progesterone shots for just a short while longer. Then it would be all just a memory. Little did I know, the worst was yet to come.
When I arrived at the office, I checked in at the front desk. I let them know that I didn't have an appointment, but was told I could just come in. Almost immediately, Dr. R's nurse, Beverly, called my name. As I walked past her through the door, she looked at my stomach quite shocked. I told her that I'd gained about 12 pounds in the last three days. She took me into a room and checked my vitals and Dr. R came shortly after. I told him my symptoms and he made sure I was continuing the daily low dose aspirin and my nightly progesterone shots. He told me that the severity of my Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome was not in the mild range anymore and if my condition continued to worsen, I may need to be admitted to the hospital. Then he gave me some good news. He said he would do an ultrasound to see how many babies were growing inside me. They had transferred two embryos, and because of the way my OHSS was progressing, I think we were all betting on twins. But when he did the ultrasound, it revealed that just one had survived. I had lost one of my little embryos, but I still had one that was hanging on.
As the day continued, I began having problems eating. The fluid that was collecting in my abdominal cavity didn't leave much room for anything else. I also started having trouble breathing, which left me somewhat panicked. By that evening, I paged Dr. R. He called me back just minutes later and I told him my new symptoms. He told me I could go into the hospital and they could give me IV fluids. All the fluid in my body was going into my abdomen, which can result in dehydration and other complications. I packed an overnight bag and we headed to the hospital.
When we arrived, the hospital staff all assumed that I was there to deliver a baby due to the size of my stomach. They hooked me up to the IV, and all the nurses asked me my due date. "I'm only 4 weeks pregnant," I would answer.
Dr. R called me the next morning to see how I was feeling. I felt terrible. I knew I had gained at least 3 more pounds. He told me they might do a procedure on me called a paracentesis, where they insert a large needle into the abdominal cavity and drain the fluid. It sounded wonderful. Anything that would relieve me from what I was going through. He told me that they would be weighing me and checking my vitals and keeping him updated.
The next morning, they weighed me. I was still gaining weight. Dr. R had told me that at some point my weight would plateau and that my body would get rid of the fluid on its own. It was all just a matter of when. He said the paracentesis was still an option, but he wanted it to be a last resort. When Dr. R came to see me that day, I told him I was miserable. I don't know that I can describe what it feels like to have that much fluid sitting inside your stomach. It's not at all like being pregnant, even if that's how it looked. He told me he still wanted to wait, because it's always best to avoid a medical procedure unless it's completely necessary. I was still hoping to have it done, anything to alleviate the discomfort.
The phone rang, and I prayed it was Dr. R calling to tell me that he would have the fluid drained. It was him calling, but he wanted to wait until the morning to make the decision. I tried to choke back the tears that I could feel coming on. My nurse came in right as I was hanging up the phone. She asked if he had decided to do the procedure. But when I opened my mouth to answer her, I just started bawling. I got so worked up, she had to check my oxygen because I started having trouble breathing. After that, she left the room for a minute. Then my phone rang. I suspect that she called Dr. R, but I'm not really sure. All I know is that he had changed his mind and decided to send me in for the paracentesis.
They wheeled me down to radiology. It started with an ultrasound, to see the fluid and guide the needle. The needle was connected to a tube that was attached to a large glass bottle. This bottle is where the fluid would end up. The technician entered the large needle into the side of my stomach. That part didn't hurt much, but when it punctured my abdominal wall I almost immediately threw up. Another technician ran and grabbed a plastic bag and I held it to my face. I tried to take deep breaths as I watched the glass bottle fill up with fluid. When it was full, she quickly switched it out with another. And then another. When all was said and done, a total of 3.5 liters of fluid had been removed. I felt wonderful! My nausea had completely subsided and I could breath again. When I got back to my room, my mom was there and she had brought me a sandwich. I remember eating it and thinking it was the most delicious sandwich I'd ever had in my life. Dr. R came not long after. He couldn't believe how much fluid had been taken out. He told me that unfortunately, it may all come back. It was all up to my body. I decided I would enjoy the relief, even if it was only temporary.
Later that night, I could tell much of the fluid had returned. I was disappointed, but I was still able to get comfortable enough to sleep. I was discharged the next day, after being weighed and talking with Dr. R. He was confident that soon my weight would plateau and my body would get rid of this remaining fluid on it's own.
Over the next week I was very uncomfortable. I did a lot of reading about OHSS. Most everything I read told me that by the end of the first trimester, symptoms of OHSS would be gone. I decided I would take it one day at a time. I would have to deal with the nausea, shortness of breath, extreme discomfort, abdominal pain and progesterone shots for just a short while longer. Then it would be all just a memory. Little did I know, the worst was yet to come.
Big Fat Positive
I was scheduled to go in for my blood test at the fertility clinic on a Wednesday. We were told not to use home tests prior to coming in, but I knew I wouldn't be able to wait. So starting at only 4 days past my transfer, I took a home test. I prayed that it would be positive so I could finally relax. So my brain could stop going a million miles an hour thinking about how I would be able to handle another cycle of IVF. The test was negative. I tried to tell myself that it was still very early. I scoured online message boards looking for stories from women who had first gotten a negative home test, but later gotten the coveted positive test. I found plenty and was able to quiet my mind.
The next day I took a test again. Negative. I felt nauseous. My knees felt weak. I wanted so bad to see a positive. I wanted to be able to call all my family and friends. To shout it from the roof tops. I felt as if that day may never come for me. Maybe the positive pregnancy test I had with Meredith would be my last. I tried to be thankful that I was blessed with a happy, healthy , beautiful daughter. But I wanted her to have a sibling. My family didn't feel complete yet. My whole life I had always wanted two kids. Maybe tomorrow would be my day, I thought.
The next two days were rough. Each morning I woke up and grabbed my cup and my home test and I took the test I had taken a hundred times before. I got the same result I had gotten a hundred times before. Negative. I didn't feel pregnant either. I cried and I cried hard. I told Doug I didn't think I could go through IVF again. I didn't want to see another negative pregnancy test again. I didn't want to go through two weeks of waiting ever again. I felt that my dream of having another baby was just that. A dream.
I opened my eyes the next morning and I felt bloated. I felt hope. I had read in the last week that bloating associated with Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome is worsened by the pregnancy hormone. I hurried to the bathroom and took my test. I waited. My hands were shaking as I picked up the test and I saw something I hadn't seen in almost 5 years. A positive! I blinked and strained my eyes to make sure I was seeing it correctly. I ran in the bedroom to show Doug. He smiled. We had discussed how we would handle a positive test, if that day did ever come. We had come to the agreement that we should wait until I was toward the end of my first trimester to tell all the family and friends. We would only tell our parents and Meredith. But before any of that, I had to go in to have my blood test at the fertility clinic to confirm my pregnancy. That test was scheduled for the following day. As the day went on, I went from feeling bloated, to a strange feeling of fullness I had never felt before.
When I woke up the next day, I stepped on the scale. I was up 7 pounds from my normal weight. I couldn't wear my jeans that I had worn just 2 days before. I felt nauseous and my right calf was hurting. I told Doug about my symptoms and that I was sure that I had a mild case of OHSS. He told me to bring it up when I went in to have my blood test that day.
One of the first things the receptionist asked when I walked in was, "Did you cheat?" I smiled and answered, "Yep." They led me back to the area where they would do my blood test. While she was drawing my blood, I mentioned the weight gain and calf pain. She went and got Dr. R and let him know the situation. He took me into a room and asked me some questions. He examined my stomach and felt my calf. He asked about my weight gain. He told me to start taking low dose aspirin and let him know if I continued to gain weight at such a significant rate. He told me that the pregnancy hormone could worsen the OHSS and that I needed to continue to drink plenty of fluids. As he led me out of the exam room, I asked him, "Can I give you a hug?" He laughed. "Of course!" He said. I told him thank you and I headed home. The nurse would be calling me later that day with the results of my blood test. But I already knew the answer. I was pregnant.
The next day I took a test again. Negative. I felt nauseous. My knees felt weak. I wanted so bad to see a positive. I wanted to be able to call all my family and friends. To shout it from the roof tops. I felt as if that day may never come for me. Maybe the positive pregnancy test I had with Meredith would be my last. I tried to be thankful that I was blessed with a happy, healthy , beautiful daughter. But I wanted her to have a sibling. My family didn't feel complete yet. My whole life I had always wanted two kids. Maybe tomorrow would be my day, I thought.
The next two days were rough. Each morning I woke up and grabbed my cup and my home test and I took the test I had taken a hundred times before. I got the same result I had gotten a hundred times before. Negative. I didn't feel pregnant either. I cried and I cried hard. I told Doug I didn't think I could go through IVF again. I didn't want to see another negative pregnancy test again. I didn't want to go through two weeks of waiting ever again. I felt that my dream of having another baby was just that. A dream.
I opened my eyes the next morning and I felt bloated. I felt hope. I had read in the last week that bloating associated with Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome is worsened by the pregnancy hormone. I hurried to the bathroom and took my test. I waited. My hands were shaking as I picked up the test and I saw something I hadn't seen in almost 5 years. A positive! I blinked and strained my eyes to make sure I was seeing it correctly. I ran in the bedroom to show Doug. He smiled. We had discussed how we would handle a positive test, if that day did ever come. We had come to the agreement that we should wait until I was toward the end of my first trimester to tell all the family and friends. We would only tell our parents and Meredith. But before any of that, I had to go in to have my blood test at the fertility clinic to confirm my pregnancy. That test was scheduled for the following day. As the day went on, I went from feeling bloated, to a strange feeling of fullness I had never felt before.
When I woke up the next day, I stepped on the scale. I was up 7 pounds from my normal weight. I couldn't wear my jeans that I had worn just 2 days before. I felt nauseous and my right calf was hurting. I told Doug about my symptoms and that I was sure that I had a mild case of OHSS. He told me to bring it up when I went in to have my blood test that day.
One of the first things the receptionist asked when I walked in was, "Did you cheat?" I smiled and answered, "Yep." They led me back to the area where they would do my blood test. While she was drawing my blood, I mentioned the weight gain and calf pain. She went and got Dr. R and let him know the situation. He took me into a room and asked me some questions. He examined my stomach and felt my calf. He asked about my weight gain. He told me to start taking low dose aspirin and let him know if I continued to gain weight at such a significant rate. He told me that the pregnancy hormone could worsen the OHSS and that I needed to continue to drink plenty of fluids. As he led me out of the exam room, I asked him, "Can I give you a hug?" He laughed. "Of course!" He said. I told him thank you and I headed home. The nurse would be calling me later that day with the results of my blood test. But I already knew the answer. I was pregnant.
Friday, February 19, 2010
IVF
Our first appointment with Dr. R went really well. I really liked his nurse Beverly and when he took us into his office it was very different than our visit with the last Reproductive Endocrinologist. He led Meredith to a small table with crayons and gave her a piece of paper, so that she could draw him a picture to put on his door. When he addressed Doug and I, he was very kind and I could tell right away that I would enjoy having him as my doctor. He explained the whole process of IVF and told us that the first step was a class that we needed to attend. He also told me that he would like to transfer 2 embryos, so that I would have a better chance of conception. We asked when the first available class was, and he told us that they actually had one in a few hours. We called to make arrangements for a babysitter for Meredith, and we signed up.
At the class they walked us through IVF, step by step. They had a slide show and we all got a folder with all kinds of paperwork. They went over possible complications of IVF, one of them being OHSS. Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome. It sounded pretty terrible, but they assured us that, in the event that it did happen, most cases are pretty mild. We were also given a sheet of paper to write down our name, estimated date of menstrual cycle and when we might want to start IVF. I remember writing in bold letters: ASAP! In the next month, we were calling our insurance, setting up the delivery of my medications, doing blood tests, a semen screen test, oral contraceptives, antibiotics and getting placed on the calendar for my egg retrieval. I was excited and nervous.
During this time, Meredith was starting pre-school, and Doug's dad was battling colon cancer. We had a full schedule, which kept my mind off of the negatives associated with IVF.
Doug's dad passed away the week I was scheduled to begin my Lupron injections. The first shot was in a hotel room in Salt Lake City, the day before the funeral. It was sad to think our baby would never get to meet his or her grandpa.
I continued my daily Lupron injections and soon it was time for my ultrasounds to see how my body was reacting to the medication. Everything was going perfectly. Dr. R was very pleased and I added a daily Repronex shot. I couldn't believe that we were so close to being finished with this IVF cycle. The next thing I knew, it was time for my trigger shot. It was pretty painful, but it also meant I was that much closer to the end. It also meant I got to do my last Lupron injection.
Just two days after that, was my egg retrieval. I was put under general anesthesia, and when I woke up, Dr. R informed me that they had gotten 10 eggs. He also told me to drink plenty of fluids and to be watching for signs of OHSS. I was having some pretty intense cramping so they gave me some pain medication and then I got to go home shortly after. That night I would begin daily intramuscular Progesterone shots.
The day after my retrieval, they called with an update on my precious little "babies". Only 7 eggs were mature and were used. They did ICSI on all 7 of those, but only 5 fertilized. The next day, I had five 4 cells. The embryologist said they were "beautiful". I called and excitedly relayed the information to both my mom and Doug's mom.
The next time I heard from the embryologist, she let me know I had one 10 cell and four 8 cells. She also told me she wouldn't be contacting me the next day, which was Sunday, but that I would hear from her Monday morning. My embryo transfer was going to be Monday afternoon. Around this time I had started to feel bloated and I could tell I had some of the signs of mild OHSS.
When the embryologist called on Monday, she told me I had 2 blastocysts. Only 2 had survived. I tried not to get stressed, but I worried what would happen if this cycle failed. I wouldn't have anything frozen and I'd have to go through all those shots again. I was relieved that the bloating had subsided. I went in for my transfer at 1:45 that day. I remember when the process was over, I thought, "I don't feel pregnant at all." I went home and was on bed rest. I didn't even want to get up to go to the bathroom, because I didn't want to loose those little tiny babies we'd worked so hard for.
Three days after my transfer, I had to go back in to the fertility clinic for a progesterone check. I was a wreck. I wanted so badly to be going into that clinic to have my blood work done for my pregnancy test. I felt I couldn't wait six more days to know. Every day was an eternity. I was trying so hard not to cry when the nurse took my blood. I think I almost made it to the elevator before I couldn't hold back the ocean of tears anymore. Doug asked me what was wrong. Everything. Everything was wrong. None of this was in my plan of creating a family. I was tired of shots. I was tired of negative pregnancy tests. I didn't know how I'd survive another negative. By the time we got to the car, I was full blown sobbing.
Right in front of us at the stoplight was a car with a BABY ON BOARD sign.
At the class they walked us through IVF, step by step. They had a slide show and we all got a folder with all kinds of paperwork. They went over possible complications of IVF, one of them being OHSS. Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome. It sounded pretty terrible, but they assured us that, in the event that it did happen, most cases are pretty mild. We were also given a sheet of paper to write down our name, estimated date of menstrual cycle and when we might want to start IVF. I remember writing in bold letters: ASAP! In the next month, we were calling our insurance, setting up the delivery of my medications, doing blood tests, a semen screen test, oral contraceptives, antibiotics and getting placed on the calendar for my egg retrieval. I was excited and nervous.
During this time, Meredith was starting pre-school, and Doug's dad was battling colon cancer. We had a full schedule, which kept my mind off of the negatives associated with IVF.
Doug's dad passed away the week I was scheduled to begin my Lupron injections. The first shot was in a hotel room in Salt Lake City, the day before the funeral. It was sad to think our baby would never get to meet his or her grandpa.
I continued my daily Lupron injections and soon it was time for my ultrasounds to see how my body was reacting to the medication. Everything was going perfectly. Dr. R was very pleased and I added a daily Repronex shot. I couldn't believe that we were so close to being finished with this IVF cycle. The next thing I knew, it was time for my trigger shot. It was pretty painful, but it also meant I was that much closer to the end. It also meant I got to do my last Lupron injection.
Just two days after that, was my egg retrieval. I was put under general anesthesia, and when I woke up, Dr. R informed me that they had gotten 10 eggs. He also told me to drink plenty of fluids and to be watching for signs of OHSS. I was having some pretty intense cramping so they gave me some pain medication and then I got to go home shortly after. That night I would begin daily intramuscular Progesterone shots.
The day after my retrieval, they called with an update on my precious little "babies". Only 7 eggs were mature and were used. They did ICSI on all 7 of those, but only 5 fertilized. The next day, I had five 4 cells. The embryologist said they were "beautiful". I called and excitedly relayed the information to both my mom and Doug's mom.
The next time I heard from the embryologist, she let me know I had one 10 cell and four 8 cells. She also told me she wouldn't be contacting me the next day, which was Sunday, but that I would hear from her Monday morning. My embryo transfer was going to be Monday afternoon. Around this time I had started to feel bloated and I could tell I had some of the signs of mild OHSS.
When the embryologist called on Monday, she told me I had 2 blastocysts. Only 2 had survived. I tried not to get stressed, but I worried what would happen if this cycle failed. I wouldn't have anything frozen and I'd have to go through all those shots again. I was relieved that the bloating had subsided. I went in for my transfer at 1:45 that day. I remember when the process was over, I thought, "I don't feel pregnant at all." I went home and was on bed rest. I didn't even want to get up to go to the bathroom, because I didn't want to loose those little tiny babies we'd worked so hard for.
Three days after my transfer, I had to go back in to the fertility clinic for a progesterone check. I was a wreck. I wanted so badly to be going into that clinic to have my blood work done for my pregnancy test. I felt I couldn't wait six more days to know. Every day was an eternity. I was trying so hard not to cry when the nurse took my blood. I think I almost made it to the elevator before I couldn't hold back the ocean of tears anymore. Doug asked me what was wrong. Everything. Everything was wrong. None of this was in my plan of creating a family. I was tired of shots. I was tired of negative pregnancy tests. I didn't know how I'd survive another negative. By the time we got to the car, I was full blown sobbing.
I told Doug, "I just wish I had a sign. That God would give me a sign and let me know if I'm pregnant or not, because I don't know how I can survive the next six days not knowing."He pointed forward.
Doug replied, "There's your sign."
Right in front of us at the stoplight was a car with a BABY ON BOARD sign.
Male Factor Infertility
We called the Reproductive Endocrinologist and made an appointment. We had to wait a month to get in, which felt like an eternity.
At our first appointment, and after quickly looking me over, we were taken into the office of the Reproductive Endocrinologist. He told us that with the numbers we had, we only really had one option. In-vitro Fertilization. Doug asked about the vitamins, the surgeries, but this doctor told us that in our situation, the only option was IVF. We both left his office that day heavy-hearted. Part of it was his attitude and part of it was the realization of it all setting in.
Doug and I decided to explore our options. Doug made an appointment with a urologist, hoping he could find the source of the problem. We were told there was a surgery that may help boost the numbers. It was an outpatient procedure and we had to wait at least six months after to know if it had helped. We went for it.
After the surgery, as soon as we were told we could start trying again, we did. We prayed, we used ovulation kits, we took supplements and we changed our diets. I took pregnancy test after pregnancy test, always seeing that single line. Six months after the operation, Doug went in for his analysis. When they faxed over the results, my eyes scanned the page, and I felt relief and disappointment all at the same time. The surgery had helped, just not enough. We were still stuck in the IVF range.
Our last hope was treating Doug's high white blood cell count. We had both been given a course of antibiotics during the time of the surgery, and it hadn't done anything for the white blood cells. But the urologist told us that he would send part of Doug's sample to the lab, and if they could culture something out of it, then they could give him an antibiotic that could specifically treat it. This was a three day process.
During that three days, we discussed the possibility of fertility treatments. I felt that IVF was surely in our future, but Doug was optimistic that we wouldn't need to worry about that. We did agree on one thing. We didn't like the Reproductive Endocrinologist we had been using.
I got a text message from Doug the next day saying the urologist had called and that they couldn't culture anything from the sample. I was just laying my daughter down for a nap when I got the message. I was so tired that day, I had planned on taking a nap with her, but instead I laid there next to her in her bed sobbing silently.
We decided to make an appointment with a new reproductive endocrinologist, Dr. R.
At our first appointment, and after quickly looking me over, we were taken into the office of the Reproductive Endocrinologist. He told us that with the numbers we had, we only really had one option. In-vitro Fertilization. Doug asked about the vitamins, the surgeries, but this doctor told us that in our situation, the only option was IVF. We both left his office that day heavy-hearted. Part of it was his attitude and part of it was the realization of it all setting in.
Doug and I decided to explore our options. Doug made an appointment with a urologist, hoping he could find the source of the problem. We were told there was a surgery that may help boost the numbers. It was an outpatient procedure and we had to wait at least six months after to know if it had helped. We went for it.
After the surgery, as soon as we were told we could start trying again, we did. We prayed, we used ovulation kits, we took supplements and we changed our diets. I took pregnancy test after pregnancy test, always seeing that single line. Six months after the operation, Doug went in for his analysis. When they faxed over the results, my eyes scanned the page, and I felt relief and disappointment all at the same time. The surgery had helped, just not enough. We were still stuck in the IVF range.
Our last hope was treating Doug's high white blood cell count. We had both been given a course of antibiotics during the time of the surgery, and it hadn't done anything for the white blood cells. But the urologist told us that he would send part of Doug's sample to the lab, and if they could culture something out of it, then they could give him an antibiotic that could specifically treat it. This was a three day process.
During that three days, we discussed the possibility of fertility treatments. I felt that IVF was surely in our future, but Doug was optimistic that we wouldn't need to worry about that. We did agree on one thing. We didn't like the Reproductive Endocrinologist we had been using.
I got a text message from Doug the next day saying the urologist had called and that they couldn't culture anything from the sample. I was just laying my daughter down for a nap when I got the message. I was so tired that day, I had planned on taking a nap with her, but instead I laid there next to her in her bed sobbing silently.
We decided to make an appointment with a new reproductive endocrinologist, Dr. R.
Trying to Conceive
It all began 3 years ago, when Doug and I got married. I already had a 2 year old daughter, Meredith, but I had always dreamed of having two or three kids. I assumed that the minute I stopped taking my birth control...Bam! I would get pregnant. The fact that I didn't get pregnant that first month was absolutely shocking, and to be honest, not completely disappointing. It would just mean more time to enjoy our new marriage and more time to enjoy my little girl.
After about four months of trying, I started to become impatient. Things weren't going according to my plan that I had in my head. I decided my body must have been the problem. It obviously wasn't doing what it was supposed to do. I remember getting out of the shower one day and looking at my body in the mirror and being angry. "Why can't you get pregnant?! What's going on in there?" I thought. I was already tired of seeing negative pregnancy tests.
It wasn't long after that when I decided to pick up an ovulation test from the pharmacy. Much to my surprise, I was ovulating on exactly the same day each month. When I shared this news with my husband, he was quite surprised as well. Especially since, for the past six months, we had assumed the only thing standing between us and a little bundle of joy, was my unproductive womb.
They had recently put a new product on the market that tested both male and female fertility. You could pick it up at the local pharmacy, and while it was somewhat expensive, we decided it was definitely information worth knowing. We got it home and followed all the directions. We waited the 30 minutes for the male test to finish, and when it did, nothing. No red line. So we did the obvious next step. Buy another one and repeat the test. Again, nothing. We decided at this point it was time to take our problem to a doctor.
Doug made an appointment with his general practitioner. They did a physical and also a semen analysis. We waited on pins and needles for the results to come back. During that time, I did non-stop research about male factor infertility. I learned about normal ranges. I learned about sperm count, motility and morphology. It was also then that I read about In-vitro fertilization. It sounded so scary and so invasive. I shared all the information with Doug, so that when the doctor's office called him, he would know what it all meant. I talked with him about in-vitro and he assured me that if he did have a problem, there would be an easy fix and that we didn't need to worry about fertility treatments.
When Doug called with the semen analysis results, I could tell by his voice on the phone that they weren't good. I begged him to tell me the numbers. He wouldn't say, so I asked him, "How bad are the numbers? Are we talking like under 20 million sperm? Under 5 million?" When he told me, all I could think was IVF.
The nurse gave him the name of a Reproductive Endocrinologist to call, and so began our journey...
After about four months of trying, I started to become impatient. Things weren't going according to my plan that I had in my head. I decided my body must have been the problem. It obviously wasn't doing what it was supposed to do. I remember getting out of the shower one day and looking at my body in the mirror and being angry. "Why can't you get pregnant?! What's going on in there?" I thought. I was already tired of seeing negative pregnancy tests.
It wasn't long after that when I decided to pick up an ovulation test from the pharmacy. Much to my surprise, I was ovulating on exactly the same day each month. When I shared this news with my husband, he was quite surprised as well. Especially since, for the past six months, we had assumed the only thing standing between us and a little bundle of joy, was my unproductive womb.
They had recently put a new product on the market that tested both male and female fertility. You could pick it up at the local pharmacy, and while it was somewhat expensive, we decided it was definitely information worth knowing. We got it home and followed all the directions. We waited the 30 minutes for the male test to finish, and when it did, nothing. No red line. So we did the obvious next step. Buy another one and repeat the test. Again, nothing. We decided at this point it was time to take our problem to a doctor.
Doug made an appointment with his general practitioner. They did a physical and also a semen analysis. We waited on pins and needles for the results to come back. During that time, I did non-stop research about male factor infertility. I learned about normal ranges. I learned about sperm count, motility and morphology. It was also then that I read about In-vitro fertilization. It sounded so scary and so invasive. I shared all the information with Doug, so that when the doctor's office called him, he would know what it all meant. I talked with him about in-vitro and he assured me that if he did have a problem, there would be an easy fix and that we didn't need to worry about fertility treatments.
When Doug called with the semen analysis results, I could tell by his voice on the phone that they weren't good. I begged him to tell me the numbers. He wouldn't say, so I asked him, "How bad are the numbers? Are we talking like under 20 million sperm? Under 5 million?" When he told me, all I could think was IVF.
The nurse gave him the name of a Reproductive Endocrinologist to call, and so began our journey...
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