Sundays of grace #3

1. Living in a big city, but close to the country: Will's parents have some land a couple hours north of the city and we love going there. It is so still and beautiful. Snow blankets the rolling hills and the night sky is black, punctuated by what seems like a thousand stars. We love getting to be out in nature and away from the hectic energy of the city. It's a wonderful time to regroup, to just be, to reenergize.

2. Trains: I love to travel by train. The land unfolding through the window outside, the ability to slice through the country away from cars and see small towns and ponds, hills and creeks. Train travel feels so simple - just you and your bag, life pared down to its essentials. The soothing vibration of the car as it rolls down the tracks.

3. Fresh baked bread: The scent of it baking, filling your entire home. The sharing of it with others around a table. Will and I bought bread at a farmer's market yesterday and toasted it up with butter and jam this morning. So warm and filling.

Mo

Update on R's baby

After more than a month of hospital bedrest and an early delivery at 33 weeks, my friend R's baby is being discharged from the hospital today! She's now two weeks and two days old and weighs 5 lbs 15 oz. Pretty amazing as R. was told to expect her daughter to be in the NICU for at least one month.

R's baby would be 35 weeks 2 days if she was still in her mom's belly. She's done great in the hospital, just struggling with a little bit of jaundice and apnea, but they say she's ready to go. No apnea monitor or anything.

R. is really excited to have her daughter home. Yay R's baby!

Unfortunately, in the category of "why-can't-things-ever-happen-without-a-scary-hitch", R. developed some frightening symptoms a few days after delivery: shortness of breath while lying down, a persistent cough, swelling in her arms and legs, and a wheezy noise in her chest while lying down. She's now been diagnosed with postpartum cardiomyopathy by both the pulmonologist and cardiologist (wheezy noise was pulmonary edema) and is on a slew of diuretics to reduce the strain on her heart while it recovers. If things go well, her cardiac function should return to normal in the next few months. Anybody have experience with something like this?

Mo

The IVF backlash has begun

From Tim Rutten's Op-Ed in the Los Angeles Times today:

"When the Nadya Sulemans of the world say, as she has in interviews, that they undergo these extreme, invasive, unpleasant, uncertain and expensive medical procedures because they "want children," that isn't really the case. If what people want is children...there are tens of thousands of children in our country and perhaps millions more abroad waiting for adoption. Thousands of others in our country are waiting for foster care.

The impulse that has made fertility medicine such a large and lucrative specialty in American medicine is about something other than children; it's about the narcissistic assumption that one is "entitled" to "the experience" of childbearing and, more to the point, the notion that, somehow, if your particular strands of DNA don't live on into another generation, the species will be poorer for it.That sense of entitlement and its enabling delusion are about a lot of things -- but none of them really involve children."

Now, I cringe at Nadya Suleman and her situation, but reading this op-ed, equating her actions with those of every woman struggling with infertility, infuriates me.

Infertiles, what say you about Mr. Rutten's words?

Feeling selfish? Entitled? Chock full of narcissistic assumptions? Because really, if we can't conceive children without medical assistance, we should just adopt, right?

Please leave your thoughts below - narcissistic, entitled, and otherwise.

Mo

A womb away from home: co-culture

I went in today to get my blood drawn for the endometrial co-culture. The RE's office had said to be prepared for it being a lot of blood, and boy, they were not kidding. You know those huge syringes they use to draw your blood the day before retrieval? (At least at my clinic they use these). They filled FIVE of those. I don't have a blood or needle phobia, but geez, if you did, this would be brutal. As it was, I felt a bit woozy.

For those not familiar with endometrial co-culture, the basic idea is that next week my RE will take a tissue sample from my endometrial lining and then culture it in the lab (I believe in this vat of blood I just contributed).

Later, after I go through stimulation and egg retrieval, they will grow the embryos in this cultured tissue, sort of a womb away from home for the little ones. The idea is that the living tissue can remove toxins and introduce growth factors that will encourage better quality embryos than I would otherwise have. We shall see.

It felt weird to be back at my NYC RE's office after our second opinion last week. Like my head is still spinning. Do I believe my great NYC RE who thinks we have a really good chance? Do I believe the CCRM doc who thinks that we do not? More than ever before, I felt like I was going through the motions. Often in the past, even sitting in the RE's waiting room, I have had this sense of hope, of progress toward having a family. Today, I felt, well...woozy. And like I was just showing up.

Hopefully just showing up and doing what I am supposed to medically for this cycle will be enough to give it its best chance. It's just so odd to be going into it thinking that it will almost certainly fail. Maybe this is normal after three tanked IVFs? I don't know. I just never thought we would be at this stage with no baby in sight.

Mo

Sundays of grace #2

1. A short run on a springlike day: Today is a balmy 60 degrees. Went out for the first run in a few months and remembered to be mindful of the wind on my face, the sun, the fact that I am able to run and be outside on a beautiful day.

2. Good friends and laughter: As this infertility journey has continued, I have been isolating more and more. Friday night, Will and I went out with a friend of mine and her boyfriend and had such a good laugh-out-loud time. It was so freeing, and dare I say it, somewhat cathartic? I am grateful that we all felt so comfortable around one another and just able to be ourselves. It was a good reminder of the importance of building and maintaining connections to others, even when going through difficulties.

3. My health: something I try to remember to never take for granted. One of the upsides of getting cancer in my twenties is that it really allows me to appreciate my physical well-being. I get so angry sometimes that cancer may have stolen my ability to have a child, but then I am struck by how fortunate I am just to have this life - to still be here. I remember lying in bed when I was sick thinking I will never take it for granted when I can walk up a flight of stairs without feeling winded. I will never take it for granted when I can feel hungry without nausea or indigestion. I will never take it for granted when I can be pain free and get through the day without fatigue. Of course at times I do take these things for granted, but then I catch myself, and I am overcome with gratitude.

Mo