Sunday, April 29, 2012

No promises


When a rainbow appears, it does not mean that the storm never happened or that we are not still dealing with its aftermath. It means that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds.
~Anonymous

Last night as I checked my Google Reader one last time before bed, I was stunned into disbelief and silence at the only post in my feed.

Every babyloss parent has such a burden to carry, and with it, a lot of us push forward, hoping to bring a rainbow baby into our broken lives...not to take the place of the child or children we have lost, but to help that wound in our hearts diminish a little in size. Many of the blogs in my sidebar are from women (or man!) who have experienced the darkest time and are either trying again, are pregnant again or have had their wish fulfilled.

But it doesn't always happen that way. Life is by no means fair...and we know that, for why else would our babies have died? Pregnancy after loss is usually fraught with fear of a repeat, fear that a living baby is not meant to be. Sometimes that fear eats people alive and lingers after a successful birth (we all know about SIDS, too). Other times, those parents walk a more peaceful path, step through those moments of fear, and embrace the gamble.

April brought three healthy rainbow baby boys...and one rainbow angel girl. My heart is broken for her parents...for all of us who know how having one angel feels and can only imagine if our worst nightmare came true.

If you're able, please go give Becky at For the Love of Baby Liam some love. Liam's baby sister, Evelynn, joined him on April 24th in that special place our babies go when we lose them.

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Giving

On June 16, 2012, Paul and I, along with some of our family members, will be walking in honor of our beloved children, Aliya and Bennett at the annual Rock and Walk event benefitting The TEARS Foundation at Cheney Stadium in Tacoma, Washington.

The TEARS Foundation is a 501(c)3 non-profit organizaiton founded in 2002 by Sarah Slack of Puyallup, Washington in memory of her son, Jesse, who was stillborn in 2000. TEARS offers emotional and financial support for families like ours who have suffered the loss of a beloved baby before, during or after birth. Paul and I were fortunate to find a local TEARS-run support group and have greatly benefitted from the love, care and support of other families as we all learn and grieve together. Others are blessed to receive financial support from TEARS to help pay for the expenses of funeral services, burials and grave markers for their babies at a time when they should have been continuing to plan their babies' nurseries or be settling in with a newborn at home.

If you feel so moved, we would appreciate your help in reaching our goal of raising $250 to benefit TEARS so that their services can continue to shine a little light for a very dark time in the lives of other local families like ours.

If you'd like to help, you may visit my fundraising page. Thank you!

Teensy hats for teensy babes.

Friday, April 20, 2012

Assumptions

My absolute loathing of En.famil and deep regret for ever having the nerve to let myself sign up for Motherhood Maternity's marketing ploys continue.

This was letter and accompanying survey was waiting for me in the mailbox when I got home today. All the questions on the legal sized, double-sided survey form assume the baby or babies are actually eating in some way, be it via breast or bottle, and if bottle, which formula did/do you use and for how long?

I'm livid that "they" (whoever they really are) blithely assume all babies live. Um, hi? Have you looked at statistics lately? Know anyone who's suffered a second trimester miscarriage or a stillbirth? What about those over-excited, over-assured women who rush out to buy maternity clothes in the first trimester and jubilantly sign up for these mailing lists because - OMG, I'm pregnant!!! - only to crash and burn due to an early miscarriage? Each and every one of us who signed up - feeling happy and hopeful - and who subsequently lost our babies receive crap like this...friendly reminders of what we lost by the company who had hoped we'd all get our babies hooked on their expensive manufactured breast milk substitutes.

I wish I knew someone in their marketing department. I'd really like to give them a piece of my mind right now. But since I don't, I'm mailing back my response...missed plurality and all. (It's in Sharpie, too. Wonder if they'll "get" my irritation.)



Thursday, April 19, 2012

Full to bursting

Today I am 4 days post IUI (4dpiui). It turned out that my estradiol continued to creep, despite massive doses of stims. When I last posted, I was off the Menopur and on 225 iU of Gonal-F twice daily. My estradiol level that day (Friday) was 416. He wanted me to keep on the same dose of Gonal-F for the evening and next morning, pee on another stick to once again confirm my body hadn't gone rogue and ovulated on its own, and come back Saturday morning for yet another ultrasound and one last estradiol blood test.

That morning I was an emotional wreck. Thankfully Paul left for a bit to gas up the truck and go get our borrowed stock trailer (we were moving cattle later in the afternoon), because I needed that time to myself to cry. I thought it would help...but it really didn't. I drove us to the appointment in near silence and had very little to say the entire time we were there. My two lead follies appeared large enough, so Dr. M.'s nurse gave me the trigger shot of hCG (pregnancy hormone) in the butt to force the largest eggs to mature and for those follicles to move toward bursting. We had our back-to-back IUIs Sunday and Monday.

(It turns out my estradiol level did climb to 691 the day of the trigger, do-able for having only two mature follicles...but given what he'd said before about my abysmal 867 the cycle we conceived twins - with what he said then were 5 follicles but claimed on Friday had been only two, so whatever! - I was feeling blue about it.)

Some have asked what IUIs feel like and how they're done. (Yeah, I'm in a position to say, since technically these were 11th and 12th catheters passed through my cervix.) They used to hurt me and cause cramping, so the actual procedures were uncomfortable. Now that I've actually had babies, it doesn't hurt at all. Plus, Dr. M. is much more familiar with intricacies of my not-quite-straight cervical canal, so he's more prepared to maneuver the catheter when and where he needs to on its journey into my womb. The procedure is insert speculum (oh, hi, cervix!); wash cervix four times with giant cotton swabs dipped in mystery, slightly burning solution; verify sample in the little pouch attached to the very thin catheter belongs to my husband and not someone else; carefully and slowly feed the catheter through my cervix and into my uterus; pause 60 seconds to give the uterus time to relax; very, very slowly inject the sample into just the right place in my uterus; wait 30 seconds for things to settle; slowly pull the catheter out; remove speculum, then help me roll over onto my tummy for 30 minutes of rest because my uterus tips quite a bit forward.

I will say that Sunday I felt numb and resigned, not the best place to be when hoping to conceive. I also spent a lot of my 30 minutes of tummy time researching perinatologists in our area who are covered by my insurance...just in case we do get pregnant.

Monday's IUI was even less eventful, except for the furtive whispering between Paul and me in the waiting room as I filled him in on the consultation appointment I booked earlier that day for May 25th. Why so late? Because, in the event we DO get pregnant this time, we'll have had our first ultrasound (7 weeks) earlier that week and will know whether or not there's a heartbeat (or, beats, as with last time). If there are, I'll have plenty of time to cancel the consultation. (This is also what happened last time, although the consult was with different clinic.) If there aren't signs of life within, then we'll proceed to the consultation at the week's end knowing that we've had another failure and even more anxious to hear what.the.Hell. and what can be done to help our case.

So, here I am, 4dpiui. Tonight will be my third evening injection of progesterone in oil (PIO), another intramuscular shot (mine is in cottonseed oil because I'm allergic to the normal soybean oil...wicked itchy lumps!). Today I had the follow up ultrasound to find out how many follicles had burst.

For sure, the big one in my right ovary burst. (No shit, says the girl who was in terrible pain and discomfort all day Monday due to Mittleschmerz, or ovulation pain...which I get every month.) He suspects the large one in the left ovary burst as well, but the ultrasound wasn't quite as definitive.

What else did we see, besides my "lovely" uterine lining? Oy. Six unburst follicles, the largest of which is 23mm. I am really, really hoping I don't end up with a cyst problem next month (or, God forbid, a painful residual cyst in pregnancy, which could require surgical removal). I took one look at the array of photos Dr. M. slid carefully into this week's plastic photo sheet and said, "Why couldn't my photos looked like this LAST week, when it mattered?!" Seriously. I would have killed to have had that many growing follies. (For the record, the others today were 17, 14, 13, 11, 11 and 8mm. That, on top of the two we think burst, would have made IVF not only possible, but a good idea.)

So...progesterone blood work on Monday to see how well my levels are doing (I never have a problem with that, especially on PIO or suppositories), and blood pregnancy test (i.e. beta) on Monday, April 30th. And maybe a little faith and hope. We're definitely accepting outside prayers, should you feel so inclined. Oh, and Dr. M. called for a little bit of luck, since that's what seemed to work back in May 2011.

With today's ultrasound being free of charge (buy three, get one free!), I'm already feeling a little lucky.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Fail

It's official: there will be no IVF for us this cycle. Dr. M. called last night with my estradiol...385, essentially no change. He had me take 150 iU Gonal-F and 75 iU Menopur last night, and then 225 iU Gonal-F this morning. My follicles are now 20mm, 16mm, 13mm and 9mm. Bad, because only two will be in range. That's not enough for a successful IVF. It would, essentially, be a giant waste of that extra $3000.

He recommends we stick with back-to-back IUIs. He wants to see me again tomorrow (after I pee on an ovulation predictor stick to be sure my body isn't ready to ovulate on its own), do another ultrasound to confirm the follies have grown just a bit more, give me the trigger shot and have us come back for IUIs Sunday and Monday.

We are very disappointed. Yes, as Dr. M. reminded me (after calling me a pessimist - I'm pretty sure I'm just more of a realist) that IUIs got me pregnant in May. I reminded him that was very nearly a year ago (actually, one month shy of a year this weekend) and I'm now 38...making IUI now statistically that much less likely to work.

He did say that since the two biggest follies are in either ovary, Paul's sperm can't possibly take a wrong turn, so, yeah, I guess there's that.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Stall

I'm having flashbacks to December's cycle; my estradiol increase has suddenly slowed. Dr. M. has changed my protocol and kicked the Menopur to the curb, just like in December.

So, tonight, I'm to take 150 iU Gonal-F and 75 iU of Menopur, along with my .2cc of mini-Lupron. Tomorrow, it's goodbye Menopur, hello 225 iU Gonal-F. We'll see what we see at tomorrow's ultrasound. Dr. M.'s assistant, Sierra, is pretty confident she'll be seeing us for egg retrieval on Sunday. That would be nice! (As a side note, now I want to see how many days it took for the Gonal-F to work in December...it seems like things happened pretty quickly after changing to Gonal-F only )

How ironic is it that I have just one ampule (i.e. 75 iU) of Menopur left in my open box? Might we actually end up able to sell the remaining unopened box of 10 ampules?

Ho hum

We've had progress on the TTC front, folks, but it's modest progress. Since going off the Metformin, my estradiol (i.e., the estrogen produced by growing follicles) is increasing by nearly twice each day...it was 98 on Sunday, 185 on Tuesday, 316 yesterday, and we're awaiting today's result. This is good. (You want 200-400 per follicle at trigger shot time...)

The follicles have grown, too, but not as fast as we would like despite astonishingly high doses of hormones. Today I had 5 measurable ones (and a couple not worth bothering with), but only 3 that will likely amount to anything: a 17mm, a 16mm and a 15mm (the others were a 9 and an 8).

Dr. M. actually said, "Ho hum," as he finished the ultrasound.

The plan is to go back tomorrow for another ultrasound and more blood work, and possibly Saturday, too. He thinks I'll have two more days of drugs. I'm not sure whether that would mean retrieval Monday or Tuesday now. I'll know more tomorrow. What we know for sure is things can change quickly, so monitoring daily now is essential. God forbid those follies reach size without us catching it and my stubborn body ovulate on its own, which would be a huge waste of money and time, especially since we those eggs would go unfertilized (we have to "save up" Paul's contribution until retrieval day now).

Curious, I asked how my estradiol level increase compares to the previous three stim cycles. This is the best so far,so that's good. (But, oh, if that's due to me being off the Metformin?! Why I oughta...)

Feb. 2011 (36yo): peak 1300 (6 mature-sized follies but only 2 eggs retrieved)

May 2011 (37yo): peak 863 (stupid low!) (ovulated 5 follies post-trigger for IUI, the two biggest were over 20mm, so definitely mature). No wonder he's so shocked we conceived twins that cycle. Jeez.

December 2011 (37yo): he didn't tell me the level, but said it wasn't rising as well as my current cycle. That cycle resulted in a BFN after stimming for longer than ever before.

I still feel hopeful. Obviously, I was hoping we'd have more improvement than this, but it is what it is. So long as we still have three good follies at trigger we're still ok for IVF. Heck, maybe those two laggers will exceed 13mm by retrieval and give us a little better odds. Stranger things have happened. We'll just have to wait and see.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Awake

Gads. Here it is 1:50 a.m. and between the dog's back-to-back outdoor bodily function relief requests and Paul's allergy-induced mouth breathing/snoring, I am rendered wide awake and annoyed. Why must I, despite wearing ear plugs nightly, be the one to sleep lightly enough to hear every single thing? Yes, likely all my mothering instinct. I know. Sucks about the dead babies, though...all I get to hear is the sound of my own racing thoughts. (I considered Tylenol PM, but since I'll have to be up to prepare my three morning shots in 2.5 hours and then up for work in 3.5, it just doesn't seem like a good idea. So here I am.)

Thanks for the comments about the Metformin use. My doctor called me back last night with my estradiol level from yesterday morning. It's risen to 98, so my follies are starting to produce their own estrogen now. Hallelujah. We talked a bit about the Metformin. He feels like since it's commonly used to help normalize and induce ovulation in women with polycystic ovarian syndrome - women whose bodies make too many follicles all at once and don't ovulate them - and since I am not polycystic (IVF would be a great time to be, though) and do always ovulate on my own, it's actually suppressing my body's ability to produce more follicles...completely defeating the purpose of the stims. This information still annoys the crap out of me, since he has my big, fat, approaching-2-inches-thick chart - in which only he writes - and he's not thought of this before now. He actually, somewhat jokingly, suggested I eat a big bowl of cereal last night before bed to spike my blood insulin and kick some more growth toward my follies. I didn't do that because he called about an hour before bedtime (8:45, that's what happens when your husband's job requires that he - and therefore you, recipient of the shots in the butt he must deliver - arise 15 minutes earlier with each passing day).

I was in the middle of a nice dream where I went to my next follie scan and was found to have *17* follies, as if stopping the Metformin had fixed everything! (Then the dog woke up needing to go out and pee. Damn it!) I did do a little research last night and found several IVF success stories resulting from only 3 follicles. And, the thing is, IVF does have a higher success rate for 38-40 year old women compared to IUI (between 22-30% compared to about 11% statistically), so Paul and I think we probably will pay the extra money to convert if it comes to that.) (We're actually pretty fortunate to use this clinic in one sense, and that is he doesn't cancel cycles except for ovarian cysts...so even if it doesn't turn out like we want, we still do get a shot at conceiving.)

In researching clinic success rates more, I found that another Oregon clinic has better success rates for my age group - by over 10% - than OHSU's clinic, and OHSU has a slightly higher success rate than our current clinic. It is clear to both Paul and me that if this cycle doesn't result in pregnancy, then it is high time we switch clinics. There's fear with that, but frankly, if we keep doing what we're doing we'll run out of time. A consultation (or second opinion, not sure which it would be at this point), even though it'll cost us a day's pay for Paul and whatever fees we have to pay the clinic for the privilege, would be worth it at this point. If we are told that donor eggs are our only recognizable option, we'll cross that bridge, but we definitely need more information from another source before we give up.

Wouldn't you know, now I'm hungry. Maybe I'll have some cereal after all.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Frustration

Things just never go as planned, do they?

Today is CD9, and my follicular ultrasound revealed disappointing news: those six resting follicles (which, were actually 5 with a possible 6) have turned into 4...3 around the same size (11-12mm) and the fourth lagging (8mm). This after 5 days of, apparently, the highest doses of stims Dr. M. has ever heard of. My uterine lining looks beautiful, apparently, but my estrogen level had dropped to 75 as of yesterday. He said that was ok, they just don't like it to drop such that the patient starts to bleed. Funny...I was spotting a bit yesterday. Frick.

He left me to dress and said to come across the hall to discuss when I was done.

It took me a few extra minutes to erase the signs that I'd been crying.

He said, basically, that we will likely have a choice of back-to-back IUIs or converting to IVF when it's time...meaning either way would be a gamble. Our only experience with IVF was when we had 6 follies and got only 2 eggs. Would that happen again? Who knows? We'll have to decide whether it's worth it to gamble another $3000 to know for sure how many eggs I produced, what quality, and whether we're actually sending embryos back to nestle into that perfect lining, or NOT pay that money and hope I *do* release multiple eggs of good quality, that at least one fertilizes, divides properly, makes it safely down to my uterus and nestles into the lining.

Before I left, I asked him to write a prescription refill for my Metformin, since we switched from the HMO and I'm almost out. His eyes got big and he said, "Stop taking that!" OMFG #2 of the week: he apparently forgot he prescribed that in July 2010 and never told me to stop taking it...even though I mentioned in, oh, October that the HMO had reduced my dose and I went back to normal because that's what he prescribed. He said back then it was fine...but now he says that could absolutely be contributing to my poor response, because it, um, inhibits insulin (a growth hormone!!). So, no more Metformin, but I am to start taking 1 baby aspirin per day to aid blood flow to my uterus and ovaries. I go back daily now for estradiol blood draws (hoping to see increases indicating those follies are growing), with another ultrasound on Thursday. He said he might increase my Gonal-F, depending on the results of today's blood work...and then dropping the Menopur all together as the follies get bigger to escalate their growth.

I spent a lot of my 20 minute phone conversation with Paul at the start of my lunch hour sobbing. I feel a bit of relief that maybe my body isn't 100% the reason behind this and December's poor response, that maybe it was the Metformin. At the same time, I am deeply frustrated and upset at that fact, the "what if's"...what if I could already have been pregnant again if I was taken off the Metformin sooner? What if we hadn't just used $1000 worth of drugs in the last 5.5 days for what feels now like an experiment due to error?

We are going to go ahead and make another consultation appointment with OHSU's fertility clinic in Portland, just to see what they think, if they would have done anything different.

I feel a little better for having partially cried this out, for now. We can't keep throwing money away due to experiments or errors in judgement.

At the same time, I do feel a bit vindicated for having fought his attempt to charge us for full IVF. This is exactly why we didn't agree to that route...no idea if I'd respond.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Eight months

I remember our very first support group meeting, when, desperate and broken and sobbing, I admired the others around the table who seemed sad for their own losses but so much more "ok" than we felt. One couple in particular had just passed the eight month mark since the loss of their daughter. It sounded like such a long time, and yet such a short time to have accomplished being as pulled together as they were.
Then today, as I realized - in shock! - what day it was, I got it...that's us now. I'm sure as more time goes by I'll have more perspective on our progression through grief, but what I can say today, eight months after the births and losses of our precious daughter and son, is that we've absolutely turned a corner. The six weeks felt impossible to bear. The next three months my anger ebbed and flowed, and the 4th and 5th of those months loomed large and packed a real wallup. By six months, I hit my bottom (at least the only bottom I've had thus far), really sought help, and now, at eight months, I didn't notice the significance of the day.

I know, that sounds ridiculous, but it's kind of true. Yesterday passed without even a thought of the horror of August 4th. I thought about my babies plenty, I do every day, but the anniversary of that date slipped by without notice. Today I was working on a project at work and needed to know the date, so I glanced at my day planner and seriously did a double-take: How can it be the 5th and I didn't notice?! I pondered my emotional state on and off through the rest of the day...yep, still doing just fine. Weird.

I asked Paul about it on my drive home, if he had noticed. He had. He said he had been thinking a lot about the babies the past two days (the 3rd and 4th). He didn't tell me much else, and that's ok. He tends to keep things pretty close (except in support group meeting, sometimes).

I have no doubt that this grief we carry will be everlasting, and will ebb and flow as we get further away from those two days. I wonder how it will change when (!) we conceive our rainbow baby or babies. Will it hurt worse? It might, but that's ok. I need to keep Aliya and Bennett close to me always.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Green for go (and money)

Today, finally, was my baseline ultrasound and estradiol blood work appointment. I drove there feeling both nervous and sick to my stomach...what would this appointment reveal? Another cyst and cancelled cycle? No follies? Some follies?

Sitting in the ultrasound room, with the smell of the disinfectant used on the ultrasound wand in my nostrils, the hum of the machine next to me, the feel of the paper drape across my lap, I got teary remembering being in that room nearly a year ago, undergoing our first egg retrieval (oh, the horror!), and then, weeks after that, seeing our babies' heartbeats and little shrimp-shaped bodies on that same machine for the first time, and hearing that precious wish-wish-wish-wish sound of their rapidly beating little hearts. Hurry up and get in here, I thought to myself, checking my watch repeatedly as the minutes ticked by...ten...fifteen...twenty.

Finally, Dr. M. burst in and got right to work. Uterus looks great. Right ovary looks good...four pre-antral follicles. Left ovary, hmm, a little quiet...two pre-antral follicles. Ok, good, see you across the hall in my office when you're dressed.

He methodically began updating my chart notes like he always does, slipping the ultrasound photos of my uterus, uterine lining measurements and ovaries into their plastic sleeves and setting them aside. Then, he pulled out a file folder containing photocopied articles and two stapled chart notes. These he used to determine my protocol. After all, it's worked for him before.

So, tonight I started my 2cc of mini-Lupron. I'll need to pick up a fresh bottle from him tomorrow. I forgot today in the hubbub I'll tell you about in a second. Tomorrow morning we'll start my stimulation drugs: 1 ampule (75iU) of Menopur and 150iU of Gonal-F in the morning, and 2 ampules (150iU) of Menopur in the evening, with 2cc of mini-Lupron morning and night. He has me continuing the Estrace (estrogen) pills, too, but cutting back to just one at night through Thursday night. Based on his prior experience with this protocol, this "fake" estrogen should leave my system within two days of stopping the pills, then my own growing follies should pick up production. The "bottom" is called the Nader, apparently, and he's most concerned with when it'll happen, because he wants to be sure I have enough in my system to really get things moving. (In all my prior injectibles cycles, my peak estradiol was fairly pathetic, which is what has earned me the title of Poor Responder. We're hoping this protocol changes that.)

My eyes bugged out at seeing the injection schedule written down. This is far more (150iU more!) drugs than I've ever taken in a day...let alone doing this for several days in a row. Apparently, this schedule should coax some more pre-antral follies - those that aren't clearly visible yet - to show, and once he gets everything to grow together to 12mm, he'll hit me HARDER with even more drugs to get as many as possible to grow to the appropriate stage. Then, we'll trigger with hCG and head toward egg retrieval. He said I can expect to stim for 8-10 days before my follies are ready (for comparison, I stimmed for 5.5 days in Feb. 2011 and May 2011, and 12 days in December 2011...that was the worst cycle ever!). I have plenty of drugs on hand so running out shouldn't be a concern. If things go as "planned" (as much as one can plan how I'm going to respond, given we have no idea), we will hopefully be looking at egg retrieval next weekend (the 15th or 16th). He only does 5-day blastocyst transfers (more on that later, if we get there), so that would put embryo transfer into the third week of April...hopefully.

But - and there's always a but, isn't there?! - we had one major hitch in our appointment. See, as I'm sure I've mentioned (because it's what we talked about/agreed upon!), this conversion to IVF is what we're hoping to do, IF I respond well. If I don't, then we proceed with superovulation IUI like we've done before.

Why is that important?

Well, because after he wrote my injection protocol in my chart, he grabbed a three-page IVF packet out of his desk drawer, discarded the first page, set the third page (injection schedule) aside, and put page 2 in my chart. It was blue. It said, "Required IVF Deposit" and had two signature lines. He crossed out $5000 and wrote in $4000.

Um, HELLO????!!!!

I said, "Um, Dr. M., I'm confused as to why you placed that deposit sheet in my chart. We are operating under the understanding that we're hoping to convert to IVF, not that we ARE doing full IVF, and therefore are not prepared to pay you a deposit today."

"Well, this is a discounted deposit. We normally charge $5000," he said.

"Yes, I see that," I said, "but based on our prior conversation when Paul was here, we're expecting to pay $3000, tacked onto the rest of our bill, if we actually get to convert to IVF. I don't have $4000 to give you today."

"Well, it's up to you. Do you want to do IVF or not?"

[OMFG, are you KIDDING ME right now?!]

"Dr. M.," I said, probably sounding a bit frantic, "If we'd known we'd have to pay you a deposit to do this thing, I wouldn't be sitting here right now. We would have had to make other plans...like not do this cycle. We understood we'd be hoping to convert, if I respond well - and we don't know how I'm going to respond, do we? - and then having your $3000 conversion fee added to our bill if that happened."

He took the blue sheet back out and threw it in his recycling, then picked up his pen and proceeded to write down my injection protocol on the third page as he talked me through it. Meanwhile, I sat there, about to cry, with a knot in my stomach. There's nothing that sets me off more than pushing my freaking Bag Lady buttons...and now you're doing it in discussion about whether or not we might conceive our rainbow baby/ies? Holy shit, Batman. For real.

(The fact is, Paul and I have already discussed that if we have to go full blown IVF, then we're going to have to switch to OHSU in Portland, where we can do the Attain financing program with the multi-cycle discount. Yes, it's more expensive per cycle (like $5000 or more, plus, likely, 50% more for meds since we'd probably have to buy domestic instead of imported), but that financing plan is a big deal, and doing multiple cycles in the plan reduces the cost per cycle. I didn't tell Dr. M. any of this, though.)

At the end of the conversation, still feeling sick about it, I put on my big girl pants again and said, "Dr. M., I need to check in with you about this money thing, because I don't feel good about this at all. If we'd known this was your actual plan rather than an experiment, we would have done this differently."

He looked me in the eye and said, "Really, the money part is minor to me. What's most important to me is getting you pregnant again." Sigh.

We proceeded to the front desk, made my follow up ultrasound appointment and got the blood draw done. I was teary as I drove back to work. I called and told Paul what had happened. He didn't feel good about it, either. We figured we'd sit and talk with him Saturday at my blood draw, since he's the one likely to do it (and we go back Sunday, so if not Saturday, then Sunday).

By 2:00, though, I couldn't take it anymore. My brain had spent the previous four hours spinning, thinking, Great, so did he just agree to the conversion fee without wanting to and will he now change our protocol because of it? I'd much rather be sitting at home ON MATERNITY LEAVE right now with my nearly 3-month old twins than doing ANY of this crap! I know, I know, unreasonable, but that's how my deranged brain works. (Paul thought the same thing, so at least I'm not alone!) I put my big girl pants back on, called the office and talked to Jeri, the billing person, told her what had happened and why I was concerned. I wanted to know how much Dr. M. was planning to charge us for what we were doing. "Um, yeah!" she said, totally getting how big the difference between $3000 and possibly $10,000 is. I waited while she checked my chart; he didn't write a price in there. She said she'd ask him directly and call me back.

And when she did? "He's charging you $3000," she said.

What a relief. So. One mini-Lupron shot on board currently, many, many more shots to go. I hope Paul remembers the imaginary targets on my butt cheeks. Meanwhile, I feel like I need to load up on sugar or something to make my stressed out emotional self feel better tonight. :)