I’m doing better today. Here’s a little advice to all the moms-in-waiting out there who are going through this:
Reach out to your friends.
Seriously.
Resist the urge to keep it all inside. Resist the urge to crawl into a hole and disappear. Don’t think for one second you are alone in your pain. You’re not. Trust me.
No, not all of your friends struggle with infertility. Not all of your friends will have miscarriages or know how this roller coaster feels. They don’t know exactly how you feel on the inside. No one can, unless they’ve gone through it personally. But that doesn’t mean that they can’t weep with you, listen to your stories, and just be there when you need a shoulder to cry on. I’m learning this.
I called my best friend Allie last night. To be honest, I didn’t want to talk to anyone, and I very nearly shut myself up in my office at work to avoid any kind of communication at all. I came dangerously close to crawling into that deep dark pit again. But I remembered the last time this happened, last October. I remembered that keeping everything inside nearly broke me, and I needed to avoid that at all costs. I remembered how much better I felt just letting it all out. So I picked up the phone. I texted my sister first, but she was busy with some parent-teacher thing. I texted another friend; she wasn’t off work yet. So I called Allie. And we talked.
Or, more accurately, I cried and blubbered incoherently for several minutes. Allie talked. It helped, a lot.
Allie, if you’re reading this, thank you. A thousand times, thank you. I started the conversation crying, but ended it laughing. It was better than Godiva chocolate cheesecake, and much better on my waistline.
So, now I owe you guys an update from my baseline ultrasound yesterday. I meant to get to it, but I guess I wasn’t in a good enough place to move forward. So, here goes.
Baseline ultrasound for the umpteenth time…with a little good news. It seems that the DHEA is finally starting to kick in, because for the first time in forever – I have 5 follicles on the left and 3 on the right. 8 is a record, and even though some are super tiny, I’m allowing another tendril of hope to start threading its way through me. Still about 12 fewer than a normal 34yo, but I’ve never had so many before. Back in March, when I started the DHEA, Dr. Landay did tell me that it would probably take about 3 months to see any affects. She also told me to be prepared for a little weight gain, acne, bloating, etc, which she was also right about. But I’ll take a couple extra pounds and a zit or two if it works, right?
So, 8 follicles ranging from itty-bitty to about 9mm, and we’re officially switching to purely injectable hormones. No more Clomid or Letrozole, which is a small blessing. No more crying over Homer Simpson or jamming bat’leths into my skull.
The injectable hormone is called Gonal-F, or, if you want to sound smart with your friends, follitropin alfa. The difference between the oral medication and the injectable is that it’s a straight shot of FSH.
Clomid and Letrozole are estrogen inhibitors. These drugs trick your brain into thinking you’re not releasing estrogen, so it starts a chain reaction that creates a ton of FSH and, in turn, a ton of LH. Like a domino effect.
Gonal-F just says “screw all that, here’s some FSH!!” It’s a lot stronger than Clomid or Letrozole, and we’re switching to a full cycle instead of a combo of oral/injectables because Dr. Landay is tired of only getting 2 mature follicles. So am I. Stupid useless ovaries.
She put me on a 150 IU dose – she wants at least 3, preferably 5, mature follicles. Last month I got one big mature follicle on Letrozole CD 3-7, and then a 100 IU dose for CD 8-10, 75 IU on CD11.
This month is no oral drugs, just 150 IU Gonal-f CD 3-6, and then I have an ultrasound Sunday to see how everything is progressing. I’ll update then when I know the rest of the game plan.
She’s also calling in the prescription for the pack of stuff I have to mix myself. It’s a lot cheaper than the Redi-ject pen that comes pre-mixed and all I have to do is turn the dial and cram it into my gut, all hara-kiri style. This one I mix by myself, draw into a syringe, and cram it in all heroin-addict style. Good thing I watched all those episodes of The Wire.
Yay saving money.
(Seriously, this stuff isn’t cheap.)
Oh, and I’m also supposed to take a baby aspirin (the 81mg aspirin that tastes like Smarties candy). From what I understand, the low dose aspirin helps ward off miscarriages. We shall see.
My Stork Got Lost 