Disgusted

When I started blogging over a year ago, I was in a very different place. I have talked plenty about the frustration of going from a place where we were ready to start TTC over a year ago, to employment situations changing, to now being in limbo and on hold. What I haven't talked about is the reason I have the screen name that I do; Fitness. Way back when, when TTC seemed like it was just around the corner, I was focused on fitness. I was working out regularly, I was eating well, and though I wanted to lose a few pounds, I wasn't overly concerned about where I was at.

My how times have changed. I don't know if the stress did it, or the disappointment, or the setback from being involved in a car accident. It could have been campaign season that did me in, or really just my own sheer stupidity. Either way, I am now 20 pounds heavier than I was, and I feel absolutely disgusted with myself. My clothes don't fit, and things that used to look good on me now look far too snug.

Mr. Fitness Bud has always been my biggest fan. Even as I started gaining weight, he never stopped telling me I was beautiful, but I definitely stopped believing him. This is not a fun place to be in. I hate watching the numbers on the scale climb, yet I know that it is completely my fault. I may not be able to control my employment situation right now, but I CAN control my weight, and the time for that is now.

This was me on my wedding day. This was me when I was at a weight that I was comfortable with. I felt attractive. I felt comfortable in my own skin. I wasn't at my lowest weight, but I was at my "perfect" weight. I just felt good.

I don't feel good anymore. Which is maybe why I don't have any recent pictures.....I don't want to be in them!

This is the first time I have said this "out loud". I felt that with everything going on, that my weight was the least of my worries. But I need to get back to feeling good about myself. I need my confidence back.

So, it starts today. I am going public with these stupid weight struggles. I want to lose the weight BEFORE I get pregnant, so that I don't have an additional 20 pounds to lose AFTER. And I need accountability, so I am trying this again.

I know this is a sensitive subject for a lot of people. I know that I am not severely overweight. I also know each of us have different body types, and different sizes at which we feel comfortable. I am not saying that one way is better than another. I am only speaking for myself and how I feel comfortable in my own skin. And I am asking for help and support so that I can get there.

Thank you all so much. Today is a new day. And hopefully it will be a better one.

Be careful what you wish for.

Disclaimer: There are no pictures in this blog entry. I didn't write this to entertain. I cried almost every second I was typing. This isn't about being bitter, this isn't about being sad, and it most certainly isn't about trying to make people feel better about what we're going through. This is about life. Real hard honest painful unfair life. If you're looking for funny pictures and entertainment, you're going to have to look elsewhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Be Careful What You Wish For

When we got our male factor diagnosis, I cried. I told my husband that I would rather have something be wrong with me, so this didn’t have to be on his shoulders.

What an idiot I was.

Since I was a young teenager, all I have ever wanted in the world is to be a mom. All I have wanted to do is to take care of my babies. Raise them and have the best family I can have.

Now I’m 34 years old… and I’m being faced with the possibility that we might never have that family.

3 weeks ago, I found out that our first IVF cycle failed. I knew that I didn’t respond the way they thought I might. I knew that our embryos were pretty sub-par. But I also KNEW that I was over-suppressed from the lupron. I KNEW that with a different protocol, I would respond better, and my eggs and subsequent embryos would kick ass.

Dr Z had other ideas. Half way through my stims, he became convinced that I had diminished ovarian reserve (DOR), AKA really old sucky eggs. He said that if this cycle didn’t work, he was going to do some additional testing.

But I KNEW it wouldn’t be necessary.

I was so wrong. About everything. And as usual, Dr Z proves why we picked him as our doctor.

The tests came back. My AMH is 0.5. That sucks. It worse than sucks. It’s sucktastic.

He says that he's not ready to throw in the towel YET. He likened my ovaries to a baseball team. He said that I have the players, but it was difficult to tell what condition they might be in, and how many might be on the bench. I said, "Great, I'm the New York Mets" (and honestly, after being a Mets fan for my whole life, I should be used to the disappointment).

Dr Z said now that he knows what the problem is, he can treat me more appropriately. He said my ovaries are a lot older than I am... probably about 42 or so… and now he has to treat me like that. He wants to see how I respond to a new protocol (my nurse should be calling me later today with details). But he also said that if this next cycle doesn't work, his recommendation would be donor eggs (DE).

My husband and I had already had a LONG talk the morning before we spoke with Dr Z about where we were going to draw the line. I finally know where he stands with all of the options, and I'm relieved about that. He's okay with DE, but not donor sperm. Okay with domestic adoption, but not embryo adoption.

We won’t move on to DE until we get a second opinion. So, if IVF #2 fails, we plan on probably getting two second opinions: one at Colorado Center for Reproductive Medicine (CCRM), a leading center for ART, via phone consult and another at a leading medical center in Manhattan. Following those, we'll probably be moving onto DE.

However, DH is convinced that now that we know about these issues, IVF #2 is going to work.

I'm going to start acupuncture again, start seeing a chiropractor and we're going to try to go to an infertility counselor, because i'm really depressed. The IVF not working was bad enough - now I’m a devastated mess. There hasn’t been a day without crying since I found out. I don’t know how much more I can take.

There’s no question now that I’m in good hands. Dr Z clearly knows what he’s talking about. I can't imagine many people would have looked at me last cycle and said DOR. I thought I was just over-suppressed, but he saw my response and said, “Look, even with your normal FSH and normal antral follicle count (AFC), something is wrong here. This isn't because of medication. We need to run more tests.”

He was right. I hate it - but he was right.

He also said that my blood work came back positive for the genetic mutation MTHFR. I’m going to find out exactly which mutation tomorrow, when I get copies of my blood work. Dr Z says I don’t have to take any blood thinners, but he has me now on very high dose folic acid. I’m taking a total of 5mg daily. He says that he needs me on it for 4 weeks before we can try again, so we can still plan on cycling for March. I’ll have to continue taking the high dose folic acid as long as we’re TTC or pregnant… which right now feels like the rest of my life. Another complication of MTHFR is elevated homocysteine levels. However, my homocysteine levels are normal.

I’m sorry that this was so long. It’s all the information I have. I feel like all of my dreams are slipping away from me. It’s very easy for people to say “oh, it’s not bad news” and “oh there’s still hope” but this is the end of the world for me.

I’m 34 years old and my eggs are crap.

The worst thing about this is the not knowing. In the beginning, my evaluation was normal. Every single part of it. Dr Z says these tests are really expensive and the insurance companies won’t pay for them unless they can be shown cause, which the failed IVF cycle gave us. I wish we had known about this 2 months ago. Or 7 months ago when we went through our initial testing.

And I hate what this has done to me. EVERY girl I see whose only diagnosis is MFI, I think to myself “that’s what you think” or “for your sake I hope so”.

Because up until 2 days ago, MFI was my only diagnosis too… and I had all the hope in the world.

Now it will be a miracle if I can even use my own eggs.

From the top to the bottom in one phone call.

Be careful what you wish for.