In a Quandry Re: Clinic Ettiquete

Yes, I'm in a pickle. And it's not baby/fertility/IVF related. Well, not directly related, anyway. And I'm wondering if I was wrong. Did I make a poor decision?

I had an appointment at the fertility clinic today. This was a just a talking appointment, as I wanted to get their thoughts about our situation, and about doing a single embryo transfer.

The doctor we used last time was fine. He was efficient, and obviously successful at what he does. Hence my twins. But I found him to be a little cold and all-business, and a little bit difficult to talk with. So, I made this appointment with his partner, a very nice (and a bit more easy-to-talk to) doctor whom I had seen for a few visits when he was on call.

From the beginning of the appointment, he seemed confused why I was there to see him. Then he asked my why I was seeing him, not his partner. I was taken a little off-guard and said that I didn't particularly care who I saw, first available, etc.

We continued with our previous discussion, and he stopped mid-stream and asked again. So I said, frankly, I wanted to just have a discussion about our case, and I found his partner harder to talk to. That I'd seen him on occasion, and thought he would be good to talk with.

After that, I just felt plain awkward.

Now I'm wondering, what do I do? Frankly, I don't care who I see. I didn't realize I was creating a great faux paux, I certainly don't want to cause a hulabulu. Who do I make my next appointment with? Should I feel awkward when I inevitably see the other doctor at an appointment?

Uggggg. What did I do?

Emotions of BabyMaking

Uggg. Babies are so emotional. I mean, making babies is so emotional. Ooops. Making babies the ART way is so emotional. So much for clarification.

I've been so proud of myself lately. I've approached the thought of having another child with maturity, careful deliberation, and very little emotion. But then I get to my OB/GYN's office today, and it's like freaking waterworks.

Which is why I'm so hesitant to go the IVF route. The emotions of it all, getting tied up in successes and failures. The hormones. Gawd, the hormones.

The visit was pretty much as I'd expected. There's nothing she can really do for me. I'm healthy. My cycles are normal, I ovulated, yaddah yaddah yaddah. There's really only one way to deal with male-factor infertility, and that's at the RE's office.

She did, however, reassure me of a few things. One, that just because I had premature twins, another pregnancy does not automatically mean a high risk pregnancy.

And two, that having a conversation with the RE about the potential success of a single-embryo transfer would definitely be worth my while. My RE practice is the one that she respects the most, the one she thinks is the most thoughtful about their medical practices, and she tells me

According to their 2007 reported results, in my age bracket, the percentage of transfers resulting in singleton live births is 34.5%, but their percentage of pregnancies resulting in twins is 35.9%. I don't dig that. In 2004 (the numbers I had available to reference when we were first trying to get pregnant), they were 46.5% and 25%. I don't dig that either. Why in the world has their rate of singleton live births gone down and twins gone up?

So, I've made an appointment. For a conversation. In December. Whew.

Damnit. I'm back.

Waiting, waiting, waiting. Isn't that my story?

I'm reminded of the Dr. Seuss book "Oh The Places You'll Go." It's a favorite with the 3 year old set, and there is a passage that just reminds me of my life right now.

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles cross weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or the waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for the wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

Yes, I think I'd like another chance.

It came out in conversation the other night. My husband seemed, to me, to be quiet and pensive. So I started hounding him about how he was feeling, what was going on in his head, his level of happiness with our life, etc. etc. All of the horrible things that women do to our men!

Honestly, he's fine. He'd just had a long day. He's a generally happy guy! But when he turned the tables on me, the dissatisfaction reared it's ugly head. And what came out of my mouth was:

"Well, I think I'd really like to have another kid."

Whhhhhhaaaaaatttttttt?

But there it is.

And, like in conversations past, when we'd said that if it happened on it's own, that would be cool, I expressed my lack of desire for more IVF and all that it entails. For two reasons, mostly:

(1) Multiples. Multiples. Multiples. Let me say it again: multiples. I cannot - will not - have twins again. Premature birth. Overwhelming. Mental instability. I could go on and on.

(2) Disappointment. The way we've been going (i.e. no birth control, but obviously not much success), I don't have a lot invested. Thus, when I get my period, I'm slightly sad, but nothing - NOTHING - compared to the overwhelming loss that comes when you've invested your time, money and heart in the procedures.

He surprised me and said that if I wanted to do IVF again, he would support that idea. As long as we "got the show on the road" and did it now. He does not want to wait.

Oh God. Do I want it bad enough?

Perhaps so. I'd tracked my ovulation this month, had the requisitly timed sex, and then had some 'symptoms' of pregnancy this month. And I bought a test. And I took it. And it was negative.

But my brain was working. It made me think I was really pregnant. And I was excited.

I don't know. I'm afraid I'll never know. But, I did make an appointment with my OBGYN for next week. I know she can't do much, but I wanted to talk to her before I go all Crazy Doctor RE on everyone. To make sure I do everything I can possibly do before going the IVF route.

Maybe she'll do a little bloodwork for me? I do miss her!

My Old Lover is Back

Oh my God. I feel like I'm cheating. 

On so many levels. First, I thought this blog was done. Finito. Terminado. But over the past month, I've been lurking around my old blogroll. I excitedly saw that Tertia is expecting a baby. I bought her book. Sunny is pregnant, and with twins! There are a number of "They told me I couldn't conceive on my own" type babies and babies-to-be floating around there on the owners of those blogs.

For awhile, I was just reading. Good stories, sad stories, happy people and those still in waiting. But then, I found myself getting more and more involved. I've been thinking a lot about those "next" babies, analyzing my thoughts about in vitro, etc. and caring about it more than I expected. 

Uh oh. 

I'll admit it ... I have unresolved issues. So, so, so many. I'm not wanting to get into all that just now, but they're pretty run of the mill (so grateful to have twins, but... wouldn't it be nice to just have one. To be pregnant, for a full nine months. To try breastfeeding again. To have a vaginal birth. To be able to run around with just one baby strapped to my chest. Not that I ever strapped both of the twins to me at the same time...wouldn't that have been a sight!)

Now comes the time in a toddler's life, when mom and dad start relaxing. Wow, they feed themselves. They follow basic instructions. They can climb in the car by themselves. Most importantly...they go to preschool three mornings a week! And at this point in a toddler's life, mom and dad might start thinking that this is a good time to bring Jr. a little brother or sister. Imagine, the joys of a two-sibling house, and what fun will be had by all!

About nine months ago, this was quite obviously the thought on the minds of all my friends. I developed a close group of girlfriends when the babies were tiny, and we all had our first child/children about the same time. Three of the five have "fallen pregnant" with their second child (the other two had twins, like me), and two babies have thus been delivered in the past three weeks. One to come later this spring.

Months ago, when my very minor baby pangs started making themselves apparent, I decided these friend's new offspring would provide a litmus test for me. I would feel their growing bellies, quiz them about pregnancy symptoms the second time around, lend them my fabulous and little-worn maternity wardrobe, and finally, hold their newborns and stare thoughtfully into their brand-new faces.

***INTERRUPTION **** BABYSITTER ARRIVING **** Going out to movie with husband!!

Many hours later ...

Back to my test. If, when the babies cry or squirm, I want to give them back to their mommies, perhaps it's a sign that I desire no additional babies. If I just want to love them and squeeze them tighter, maybe I should think twice about this.

I've been about 50/50 thus far, and it scares the crap out of me.

To put it bluntly, I've been stalking my husband in bed, and when I felt the twinge, the mettelschmerz, I pounced. Today, I perused the lower shelf of my medicine cabinet, where I found my old sharps container. I fondled it, I tell you. And a blue vinyl case with the pen and extra needle tips. I got excited. How awful.

I really don't want to do IVF again, and i don't think that will change. But niggling in the back of my mind, is the hope that it just happens on it's own.

Who knows, I'll probably feel different next week. Or not.

Life is Good

If anybody is still checking in (why in the world would you be?), I have a new blog:

http://www.aspiringartistry.typepad.com

I am finally (what, after two years of having children?) finding peace with my life as a mother, a stay-at-home-mother at that. I've struggled with my identity, who am I now? I realize that life comes in stages, and I need to embrace this current one.

So, I'm embracing my creative side, and am enjoying it immensely.

The twins are delightful - two years and full of joy, defiance, and always something new. I am struggling with the questions about more children - my husband would like an answer now, and I'm not prepared to say yes or no definitively, although I am leaning in one direction. 

But we shall see .. I'm embracing life as I know it now.

Closure

Breaking up is hard to do.

Sometimes it's an angry occasion - perhaps you've been cheated on, or maybe betrayed in some unforgivable way. You hurl dishware, or maybe a wedding ring. You yell. You scream. You're mean to each other in the way we shouldn't treat other human beings.

Other times it's sad and devastating. Maybe you've been taken off guard, dumped without warning. Consolation comes in the form of good friends, copious bottles of wine, and many, many pints of Ben & Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk.

Sometimes it just happens. It's sad, but it's okay for everyone involved. Perhaps a mutual interest or friend that initially drew you together no longer exists. Maybe one of you has accepted a job that's consuming all his time and focus. You treasure the time you spent together, but recognize that it's time to go your separate ways. You'll bump into each other at cocktail parties, and hear news of each other from friends, and you'll certainly Google each other (secretly, of course) to see what's going on in life. It's the happiest of sad endings, but the photo album that you filled with memories of the two of you together still remains on your shelf, and is browsed through frequently.

I had a bit of an epiphany today. The kids were up, dressed, fed, and playing happily in the kitchen. I, on the other hand, was still in my pajamas, still nappy and unkempt. I dreaded knowing that, since J is out of town, I had to take the kids up to my bedroom with me and try to keep them out of the toilet water and somewhat entertained while I attempted to dress and make myself up for the day.

And then I realized what I could do. We marched down to their bedroom, picked out a few special toys, made sure the door to the attached bath was closed, and then I slowly and quietly exited the room and shut the door. I was able to have 10 minutes to myself, and they were fine. Yes, their room was a wreck when I came back, but all was well. They were happy, entertained, and I actually looked and felt pretty good.

They're growing up. They have opinions, MyGirl says "No!" with frequency, and MyBoy is turning into a devastatingly charming little boy. My days and nights focus so much on them, and not on so many of the other sad and scary thoughts that used to fill my mind. Life is good. We are so happy.

I constantly compose posts in my head, yet they never make it to page or screen. This was my journal of want, of waiting, and finally of success. I think it's time for us to move on.

I have some thoughts about another blog, and if you want to know I'll be happy to share with you when the time comes. In some freaky way, I'm addicted to your lives and stories, so if you're on my blogroll, I'll be checking in on you just like I used to.

I wish you all heath and happiness, peace and resolution, and an end to your waiting, whatever it may be for.

Bath Toys

The best toys for children in the tub, recommended (I think) by Emmie. Guarantees many consecutive minutes of concentrated play, pouring water on ones own head and on ones brother's or sister's head.

Originally intended to direct soup into a jar or leftovers into a Tupperware, they also encourage children to try and "catch" the water. Allows mommy to catch a few minutes to peruse a favorite magazine:

The best toy for mommy, sitting next to the tub, trying to simultaneously supervise bath time, encourage hair washing, discourage beating brother/sister over the head with above referenced toy.

Originally intended to support child's neck while sleeping in the car, this wonderful toy also supports Mommy's very important orange juice glass full of wine, keeping it from toppling over into the nearby tub: