Speak up and speak out....Loudly!

CBC News - Montreal - Fertility under provincial jurisdiction: top court

You may or may not be aware that the government is trying to decide whether infertility and the associated treatments should fall under provincial or federal law. There is also discussions in some provinces as to whether or not treatments such as IVF should be publicly funded. This blog is not about my opinion of either. I want to talk a little bit about the misconceptions associated with the decisions to have these treatments and the alternatives. If you are or have ever been infertile, feel free to read the article but beware of the comment section. My husband was upset that I was even reading it. It is filled with assumptions regarding IVF, infertility, and adoption with a few people with experience trying to desperately stick up for the rest of us. I did not comment because those with experience were grossly outnumbered and most of the replies were not based on fact and therefore anything goes. If you choose to read that section, perhaps you should get out the ice cream, cookies, or wine. You might need it.
In the next few months we are going to hear more and more about these topics. What I am asking is that you educate yourself before commenting and once you know actual facts, speak up and speak out...loudly. Some people choose to live childless lives. That is their choice and if they are happy, I am happy for them. Either way, imagine wanting to be a parent and not having the opportunity. People who experience infertility imagine their lives as useless. They think about all that they have to give and how it could be wasted. They imagine Christmases alone and dying alone. Psychologists equate the pain of infertility to the pain of losing a loved one and to a similar stress as being diagnosed with a terminal illness. If you haven't been there, you cannot imagine.
I noticed that in the awkwardly uneducated comments section that there was a lot of talk about it being God's will that the infertile are not parents. Infertility is an illness not unlike cancer or diabetes. If it's God's will, then that is like saying that we should get rid of insulin and chemotherapy. There is talk that we should ban fertility treatments until all the parentless children in the world find families. That might work in theory, but Canadians do not have access to "family-less" children all over the world. And international adoption often costs way more than IVF so if you can't afford IVF, you can't afford to adopt. And let's face it, adoption just isn't for everyone. Don't those children deserve the right family? And if the intention is to find parents for everyone, why not ban pregnancies in general? Would that not make the whole process a lot faster? Why should the responsibility of orphans fall on the shoulders of the infertile?  Another misconception is that children created by infertile parents are also infertile and that we are creating a larger problem in the future.  Some fertility disorders are genetic but IVF children are not doomed to be infertile.  I do believe that something we are doing is increasing the number of infertile people, but that is a whole different topic. 
What I am asking is that you make sure you know the truth before creating an opinion.  I am not asking you to approve of or reject the decisions relating to government responsibility or payment of treatments.  But please do not make assumptions regarding infertility, IVF, adoption.  The whole picture is just so much bigger than anticipated.

Mortality

I always think it's crazy when someone says that this could be so-and-so's last Christmas. No one lives forever.  It could be any of our last Christmases.  On Thanksgiving weekend a young man from a town between Regina and Saskatoon went missing.  The police are now saying that they don't think they will find him alive.  I bet no one predicted that last year was his last Christmas.  He was someone's baby boy and I think that in the next few days they are going to learn what happened to him.  Although I am sure they need to know, no one told them last Christmas that it was going to be the last Christmas that they weren't haunted with this information.  And if the pain is unavoidable, it is so much better not to know.
I think that it is important to enjoy every moment and try not to predict the future.  This will be so many people's last Christmas this year, but it will also be many people's very first Christmas.  Some of those people who really weren't predicted to see another Christmas will come shining through next Christmas too.  Don't try to predict the unpredictable.  Mourn the loss if it happens.  Enjoy the present.
My dad was diagnosed with cancer in his early 30's.  He wasn't much older than I am now.  While I try to enjoy every moment and not be haunted by the chance of genetic predisposition, it definitely slips into my mind now and then.  He was 36 when he passed away.  He fought an incredible journey that he just could not win.  In the end it was a blessing that he left this world.  He was only a shell of the wonderful person that he used to be.  Fortunately for me, I was ten years old when he passed away.  I realize that it is strange that I used the word fortunately in that sentence.  The reason I was fortunate is that even though it is 22 years later, I was old enough to have wonderful memories of my dad.  I plan to be here to watch my children graduate, get married, and have beautiful children of their own.  But there is this tiny part of me that notes that when I am 36 they will only be four and seven.  Would that be old enough to remember me? 
It is strange how my brother and I feel the exact same thing.  We never discuss it but I know it's true.  We have handled it entirely differently.  I am a tiny bit of a hypochondriac.  Every pain, mole or twitch has me analyzing.  On the other hand, he tries to not to notice that anything is wrong and he avoids doctors like the plague.  I want to know the moment something is wrong so I have a chance.  He wants to ignore it because he's afraid to hear the words that he dreads.  We both try to ignore the crazy tiny voice in our minds and hope that it never matters.
Instead of fretting, I plan to enjoy every moment that I can with my kids and to make the most wonderful memories possible. Go away twitch.

January 3rd

The weeks before Christmas always seem to zoom by.  It's impossible to see everyone you want to and there are all the little details to get finished...and then Christmas is here.  It always seems to show up out of the blue.  The problem with the time speeding by is that this year it is also the end of my maternity leave zooming by.  Although this maternity leave had a rocky start, I have loved the life of a stay at home mom.  Although even if I could be a stay at home mom financially, there is something about me that needs to go to work. (Perhaps less days would be better though.)  I am proud of what I do and I enjoy what I do.  And besides that, I enjoy eating my lunch alone sometimes and I love peeing with the door closed.  But in saying all that, I love being home with my kids.  I am trying to stay positive about going back. The advantage to going back to work on January 3rd is that everyone around me seems to be taking time off for Christmas and they all go back January 3rd too.  And I have a bunch of friends who go back January 3rd after their maternity leaves too. 
I try to remember how lucky I am.  I have two wonderful healthy children, a husband who loves me, family that fight over us (maybe a bit too much!), and a safe and happy place to live.  Going back to work is a small issue in the scheme of things.  But the thought of Jack napping somewhere else most days of the week instead of his crib, the thought that someone else gets to drop off and pick up Lily from school, the thought that even Scott will have more time with my kids than me, makes me sad.  Aren't moms supposed to be the primary parent?  I am so happy that our kids are in daycare less than full time because he has the opportunity to work less...but I would love to be the part time worker.  Unfortunately I am unable to keep my current position and work part time. 
Going back this time is much easier than last time because I know what to expect.  I know that the kids will be clingy until they get used to their new routine.  I know that the lady who takes care of them is wonderful and that she already loves them both.  I know that I will be able to juggle all the things that need to be done and that even though I will be incredibly tired the first few weeks, I will indeed survive.  And I know that when it comes down to it, I am going to cry all the way to work on that first day.
The trick this time is that I am starting a management role in a new location.  I will have all new staff and new routines.  I will have some things to learn and some things to change.  Under normal circumstances this would be an exciting change, but it is not the place to be teary on your first day back.  I will be tough and I will fool them all. 
If you pass a sobbing woman on your way to work on January 3rd, know that I will be okay.  I already know I will.

Dear New Mom:

I don't care how you become a mother...adoption, the "good old fashion way", or through fertility treatments.  It doesn't matter how much you wanted it, there are some things you need to know.  These are the things that no one tells you because they are too busy pretending that they didn't happen to them.  Stop pretending.  Let's make the expectations more like they should be and share the fact that being a mom isn't always easy....


Dear New Mom,
Becoming a new mom is emotional.  You will be filled with love, fear, guilt, and joy.  When these hit all at the same time it can be a bit much.  You will be amazed at your ability to love your child.  You will be terrified that you won't know what to do when they need you.  You will be sure that you won't do everything right.  And you will feel incredible joy.  There will be moments when you think you made the wrong decision and you will crave the ease of your life before children.  (Yes, even those of you who want this so badly for so many years.  It may seem crazy but it is true.)  It is overwelming to be needed 24 hours a day and to not know for sure when your baby will want to eat again, if they are getting enough food, and when they need to sleep.  There is a such thing as post-adoption blues and it can progress into post-adoption depression.  Some of it is hormonal...not unlike when breastfeeding mothers leak when they hear babies cry, an adoptive mother experiences a rush of hormones when they become a mother.  The rest is the same as post-partum depression...sleep deprivation, loneliness, lack of alone time, insecurity.  It is normal to feel guilty about craving some of the ease of your childless life...even if you wanted it for a long time.  Do not add to your guilt by thinking you do not have the right to feel this. 
The first six weeks of having a newborn are wonderful because you have this amazing bundle of joy to cuddle and love.  A very honest friend saved my life when she told me in those first weeks that it gets much better at the six week mark. Yes, it's true.  Those first weeks are so hard...no sleep, painful breastfeeding, so much crying, no routine.  It all gets somewhat better at the six week mark...so now there is something to look forward to.  It gets better again at the three month mark and continually improves after that.  Don't worry...you will sleep again.  I have no idea when because you get used to your sleepless nights and don't really notice when it improves.  If you have other children in your house, you are going to feel guilty that you can't be as good of a mother to them during this time.  Remember that you get to spend extra time with them during this maternity leave.  The youngest will get the least amount of time.   Most importantly...this too shall pass.  Even though it is a difficult time, you will look back on it fondly.  Your baby was so cute and cuddly.  A new routine will appear and you will no longer remember what it was like to live without this child.
For now just survive. 
Lindsay

Lasts

Jack turned one last week.  Although the possibility is there, I really think we are done having kids.  I can't help but think that we are blessed to be the parents of two beautiful, funny, healthy, happy kids.  I'm honestly scared to rock the boat.  There was a time in my life that I was so sure that I was never going to have this opportunity.  Who am I to ask for more?  There are no guarantees that we are finished...but like I said before, I really think we are done. 
Watching your kids grow fills your life with firsts.  Their first bath, first tooth, first word, first step... But lately I have been thinking about lasts.  I am trying not to mourn the lasts but to instead take a moment to celebrate them.  It seems like lasts sneak by without anyone noticing them.  You are amazed to look back and realize that the last of something already occurred without you paying any attention.
I never knew that my last IVF injection was my last.  I had no idea that it was going to work and that we would be finally finished with such a discouraging yet exciting time of our lives.  I took a million pregnancy tests with Jack, every time enjoying the appearance of that beautiful pink line.  I had no idea he would be born two weeks early and that my last positive test was actually my last.  I have heard that for "normal" people often their first test is their last...I however fondly disagree.  I tested the entire nine months I was pregnant feeling the same excitement grow as the line appeared quicker and darker.  
I have no idea exactly when Lily took her very last bottle.  I do know that Jack is getting close.  It is funny that we want to wean our kids to move them forward onto sippy cups and then cups without lids, never taking the chance to notice that their independence has grown and they no longer need us to rock them as they drink their milk.  I celebrated Jack's last nursing because it had been such a struggle, but I know there were good moments.  I breastfed Jack while sitting on main street at the Western Development Museum.  It is one of my few fond memories of breastfeeding.  We go there a lot.  I had no idea that breastfeeding would be long over before I returned to main street with my formula fed baby.   Jack no longer needs to be rocked to sleep at night.  I have no idea how that happened.  It is so nice to be able to shorten the bedtime routine, but I know I am going to miss those moments of having him or Lily asleep in my arms.  I have no idea when they both started solids, but I know they no longer need me to feed them their baby cereal.  I remember the moment Lily learned to walk, but I can't remember the last time she used her fantastically fast crawling abilities to get around.  We are headed that way with Jack.  I will be so excited to see him walk.  I know he wants to walk so badly.  But I will miss the determined way he makes every movement as he crawls and that tiny little bum shaking its way across the floor. 
I know that moving forward is the way we live life.  I know that we need to celebrate our children's successes and independence.   I just want to stop taking for granted the struggles of parenting toddlers and infants.  I know already that I am going to love watching my kids become adults...but boy am I going to miss this!!

I wouldn't change a thing

The whole time we were trying to have a family I wanted to get pregnant so badly every month.  And when our first IVF failed I was incredibly sad that those particular embryos were never going to be my babies.  At the time I wanted it all to be over so badly.  I didn't want to have to try so hard to get the thing that came so easily to many others. 

I wouldn't change a thing.

If I was given the opportunity to go back and get pregnant that first month, I wouldn't take it.  I would never take away all that pain if it meant changing anything about the family we became.

I am the luckiest person in the world.  I am luckier than those people who got pregnant the first month because I beat the odds.  I have the most wonderful family.

I wouldn't change a thing.

This weekend was absolutely crazy.  I think there is a small part of me that loves chaos...okay, well maybe it's not that small.  This weekend we had pseudo-Christmas with my family.   We attended Lily's gymnastics gala.  We had a Jack's 1st birthday celebration.  It is finally quiet in my house and while I am absolutely exhausted, all I can think about is how lucky I am.

I can't believe Jack is one already.  How is it even possible that a year could fly by so quickly? Why is my tiny infant so big? And why is he learning to walk?  Jack has amazing personality for a one year old.  He loves music and loves to dance.  He purposely tries to be funny to make you laugh.  He says "ahhh" after he takes a big drink of milk.  He makes kissy noises to get your attention.  And he cuddles...mmm.  He has the biggest brightest blue eyes and thick golden hair.  I was so sure I wouldn't be able to love him as much as I love Lily...but I fell in love with him the moment he was born.

I can't believe my beautiful baby girl had her first performance.  She's so cute that you want to keep squeezing her...even though she rolls her eyes and says, "But mom, I'm a big girl."  She is so gentle and sweet.  I wasn't sure she'd be able to go out in front of all those people, but she was fantastic.  I am so incredibly proud of the person she is becoming.  She loves anything artistic...dancing, singing, drawing, painting.  And she is  wonderful at it.  Her mischievous brown eyes are so dark they are almost black and her silky black hair shimmers in the sun.  No one is able to love their child more than I love her.

As I listen to the silence in our house while they sleep, I know in my heart that this is the mom I was meant to be.  I wouldn't change a thing.

Officially a family

Adoptive families often celebrate the day that their child's adoption was finalized as their forever family day.  I think that if our adoption would have been finalized in a reasonable time frame, that day would be our forever family day too.  Lily is adopted from Nunavut.  Because Nunavut used to be part of the North West Territories, they currently follow many of their laws until their own can be written.  We kind of fell between the old and new laws which added some complications for our adoption.  When you get custody of a newborn, the birth family has a time frame in which they can change their minds.  That time frame varies from place to place but is usually 3-10 days.  I thought I would worry about it constantly but it rarely crossed my mind.  I was too busy learning how to change diapers, give baths, and make bottles.  Perhaps the sleep deprivation helped. That time along with the next three months flew by.  Most adoptions in Canada take 3-6 months to complete.  Unfortunately the Nunavut social worker that had our case was also responsible for writing the new Nunavut adoption law.  Between changing laws, him being busy, and repeated lost paperwork, it took over two years for our adoption to be finalized.  It always crossed our minds that someone could take our daughter and we had heard horror stories of kids getting taken away because of an injury because it was easier to take them than to investigate.  When Lily fell off the bed we didn't take her to the doctor because of this fear.  Fortunately she was okay and it wasn't an issue.  We had reassurance from our social worker and from the social worker responsible for all Saskatchewan adoptions that no one was going to take away our daughter, but it was difficult not to worry.  By the time the adoption was finalized it was pretty anti-climactic.  Of course we were happy it was over, but because we had been a family for so long, becoming an official family didn't matter quite as much.  But I did cry when our lawyer called exactly one year ago today to tell me it was all over.  And I have spent the entire day thinking about exactly one year ago. 
One year ago today I received a phone calling notifying us that Lily was officially ours.  Her last name was changed to match ours and we were officially a family.  I called Scott and he went out and purchased a cigar to celebrate.  Even though it was fairly cold that night, he dug out a lawn chair and sat on our deck smoking his cigar and drinking a beer.  We had saved a bottle of champagne to drink the day things were official, but I was nine months pregnant and we decided that we should wait on that one.  We stayed up later than usual celebrating.  In the middle of the night, my water broke.  Scott stayed awake for the next 22 hours of labour while chewing gum the entire time to try to get the horrible cigar taste out of his mouth.

Within three days we became an official family of four.

Thankful

When I was desperately trying to get pregnant I had a friend who told to me to journal every night about something that I was thankful for.  When you are obsessed with infertility, you lose perspective on how great the other things are that are around you.  For example, instead of being thankful for friends and family at Christmas you are instead jealous that the Virgin Mary had a baby without trying at all.  Ridiculous?  Absolutely. 

Without naming any names, I want to share some of the people and things that I am thankful for...

I am thankful to a selfless family for giving me the opportunity to be a mother to a fantastic little girl.  I am grateful to a group of people who helped me through the failure of my first IVF, who helped me create Jack, and who supported me through a very scary first trimester.  I am grateful to anyone and everyone who helped get me through the worst of the worst of my post partum depression.  And to a fantastic lady at the support centre...I am sure I would not have made it without your support.  To my friend that did her work at my kitchen table, to my friend who let me cry on her couch repeatedly, to my friend who did not breastfeed either of her kids....I thank you.  To those who made me leave the house when I so desperately wanted to stay in my pajamas....I realize you were so right.  Thanks!  To those who shared their stories so I was not alone...you are the very best.  To the knowledgeable and kind lady who did our homestudy....you made what I would have assumed to be an awkward situation into something amazing.  Your support and information made things so much easier for us.  To the people who put us in contact with Lily's birth family....how do you even say thanks for something so incredible?  To our dear friends who took Lily when I went into labour and stayed up with her from 3:30 am...so very kind.  For my friends....you have helped the whole way...even when I was mean about baby showers, when I had to be forced from my car for a  Tim Horton's break, and when I didn't listen to your incredible advice about depression and baby supplies.  To my dear friend who dropped everything to come to my house during my first IVF and during the breastfeeding debacle.  To my family for accepting our decision to adopt wholeheartedly and for never looking back. 

To all of you reading this.  Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write this all out and feel like my experiences had a purpose.  I hope I do not disappoint.

To my kids for being the cutest and smartest. (I know every mom says that!!) To my husband for having sex during pneumonia, for masturbating in the hospital (even though you work there), for all the post-procedure lunches, for holding my hand, for surviving the journey, and for being the very best husband and father ever.

THANK YOU!!

According to...the kindness of strangers

Everyone always has the perfect advice.  Okay, even I am guilty of my personal suggestions from time to time.  But there is nothing worse than the advice or criticism of a stranger.  Lily was born on a Saturday and we were finally released from the hospital on Monday.  We drove as far as Regina and stayed with Scott's parents until Wednesday.  On the way home we realized that we needed stuff.  Babies need stuff...lots of it.  At that point we had a car seat, stroller, bassinet, a few sleepers, a small pack of diapers, and two cases of baby formula.  We were getting there but definitely needed some more stuff.  We decided to stop at Toys 'R Us on our way by.  We were feeling overwelmed by the baby section and Lily was crying.  She was officially 4 days old, we had just driven three hours, and she was literally with strangers (us).  Let's cut her some slack.  On the other side of the aisle were two women.  I overheard them saying that we were terrible new parents for taking such a small baby out to a germy, drafty, bright store.  And I felt immediately guilty.  Wow...it was only day 4 (day 2 out of the hospital) and I was already failing my baby.  It took months to get my confidence back.
The same thing happens when you are struggling with infertility.  Everyone knows that the moment you get married, everyone wants to know when the baby is coming...and they ask relentlessly, year after year, until something finally happens.  Once you have one, they immediately begin asking about plans for the next one...even if the first one is adopted.  Over the years I have received so many inconsiderate comments.  In some cases I know the person meant well, but it is tactful to be careful with the infertile.  I was told that I was going to regret putting my career ahead of having a family.  I was told I wasn't getting any younger.  I was told to relax, to go on vacation, and to have sex more.  A well-meaning co-worker who has two wonderful kids told me to just enjoy the time I had sleeping in and living my life.  I was told to try fertility treatments, herbals, massage, accupuncture, witch craft.  I was told not to do fertility treatments because they are against God's will.  I was told it would happen if I was just patient.  And of course, once we had adopted Lily we were told that everyone who adopts gets pregnant right after.  Just to clear that one up...Jack was created by IVF not adoption.  The best thing to say to someone struggling with infertilty is that you are there for them if they need anything.  Don't say that you know how they feel.  Don't think of a witty comment to take their pain away.  And when they do want to talk, just listen.  You aren't supposed to understand.
But back to the general inconsiderateness of strangers...when my daughter is standing in the cart, I don't need you to tell her to sit down...or to tell me that it is dangerous.  Trust me, we both know these things already.  I have just decided that it is not a battle that I want to battle that day.  If my kid has his coat done up and we are indoors, I probably already know that he's going to get hot.  I probably just haven't got around to unzipping him yet.  If my kids are eating fries, I probably feed them vegetables on another day of the week.  If my kid has a runny nose, I already know it, I just ran out of tissue because it has already been running for months.  And if my kid isn't wearing mitts and it is really cold outside, it's because I am teaching her a lesson for having a temper tantrum when I tried to put them on two minutes ago.  I know I am not perfect...so please do not point out the obvious.
Remember that everything we say has an impact...and remember that one comment in Toy 'R Us has stayed with me for over three years.  So...easy does it, smarty pants.

Fertility Info

People always have tons of questions for me regarding fertility procedures and treatments.  By no means am I an expert.  I only know what I know from personal experience.  I found a lot of information in two fantastic books...A Couple's Guide to Invitro Fertilization and A Few Good Eggs.  I thought I'd share some of the basic information so that you are aware of some of the options.

Basal Body Temperature...When a woman ovulates her body temperature increases slightly until the end of her cycle.  Because everything you do can impact your temperature, the only way to do this is to take your temperature with a basal thermometer immediately upon waking and before getting out of bed everyday.  The first part of the cycle (which begins on the first day of menstruation) should have slightly lower temperatures than the days following ovulation.  See http://www.fertilityfriend.com/ for an easy way to chart your temperatures. 

Ovulation test strips...These are similar to a pregnancy test except they test LH (luteinizing hormone) instead of HCG (human chorionic gonadotropin).  LH rises 24-48 hours prior to ovulation.  A positive test means that having sex at that point would be optimal timing.  (You know...like on the commercials)

Laparoscopy...A gynecologist makes 2-3 small incisions into the abdomen and looks inside to determine if there is any obvious cause of infertility.  While in there they can sometimes remove scar tissue, endometriosis etc. with a laser.  To see your insides better, they blow you up like a balloon...weird.

Hysterosalpingogram...A dye is used to fill the uterus and the fallopian tubes.  An X Ray takes pictures of the dye as it travels up and out of the fallopian tubes. If it spills from both tubes, it proves that both tubes are actually open.  It is possible that this test may improve fertility in the next few months because of the cleaning of the tubes.  Not to scare anyone, but ouch.  This test is extremely painful but only for as long as it takes to know you are in pain...and then it stops.

Sonohysterogram...Similar to the HSG above, but an ultrasound is used instead of an X Ray and saline instead of dye.  This is used to check tubes, uterus, and endometrial lining. 

Vaginal ultrasound...Large probe covered in large condom is placed in the vagina and gives a better view at female reproductive organs than the traditional ultrasound.  Good news...it is done with an empty bladder.   Bad news...it is vaginal.

Semen Analysis...Sample of semen is obtained (the old fashioned way...no electric prod or anything) and sperm is counted.  Normal is around 20 million per ml and around 80 million per ejaculate.  Motility and morphology are also observed.  Motility is amount of movement, rate and direction.  At least 50% should be moving after one hour...and preferably in a straight line.  If less are moving a stain can be done to look at the dead sperm.  Morphology is the size, shape and appearance.  Two hundred sperm are analysed for defects in the head, body, tail, and size.  Often one test is not enough because sperm are highly influenced by illness, stress, and activity.

Testicular Ultrasound...Just like it sounds.  An ultrasound is held on the man's testicles to look for blockages or Varicoceles (vericose veins of the testicles).  Up to 40% of male infertility is caused by Varicoceles.

IUI...Intrauterine insemination (not artificial insemination...I'm not sure but possibly that's what it is called for cattle?)  A woman's cycle is monitored to accurately predict ovulation (often with the assistance of fertility drugs).  When the timing is correct, the man produces a semen sample which is washed (all good sperm are used and poor ones are discarded) and it is put into the woman's uterus using a small tube.  There is also Superovulation which is IUI but with similar drugs to an IVF cycle. IUI is often how multiples occur.  If the woman has more than one egg from the drugs there is an increased chance that they will become more than one baby.  However, this is not how Octomom had eight...that was an incompetent and unethical transfer of way too many embryos from IVF.  IUI alone costs about $200-400 per cycle.  Superovulation costs approximately $1000-5000 per cycle.

IVF...Invitro fertilization is when a woman's cycle is completely controlled by inhaled, injected or vaginal medications which cause the body to produce an increased number of eggs.  Those eggs are then fertilized either by placing the man's sperm in the dish or by ICSI (Intracytoplasmic Sperm Injection) which is the injection of one sperm directly into one egg. Embryo(s) are then transferred back into the woman's uterus and if implantation occurs the pregnancy is maintained by vaginal drugs for another 10-12 weeks.  Finally the pregnancy continues on its own.  IVF costs approximately $10000 per cycle.  The above photo is of an embryo the morning after it was injected by one sperm.  You can tell it was successfully fertilized by the two bubbles in the middle.

Like I said before....this is a very simplified explanation for a very complex science.  But at least you now know what I am talking about.

The Ordinary Family

I almost missed one of the most important opportunities of my life.  I was concerned about having an ordinary family and I was worried that adopting Lily would make us out of the ordinary.  Fortunately, I have a husband who is comfortable telling me when I am thinking crazy.  Together we made the right decision.  A decision which will change my life forever...and in every way for the better.
What is the ordinary family anyway?  Is it 2.5 kids and a dog?  Who wants 1/2 a kid anyway?  And what about us cat lovers? If you take a moment to look around, these days every family can be called ordinary. Or, if it pleases you, out of the ordinary.  There are single parents.  There are grandparents raising their grandchildren.  There are gay and lesbian couples. There are interracial and interreligious families.   There are adopted kids from almost every country...Asian, Ethiopian, Haitian, Russian... And usually the families that would be considered "normal" have something going on that you don't even know about.
Family means a group of people who care more about each other than they do as an individual.    It is a group of people who are better people because they are together.  It doesn't matter what the "rules" are.  It only matters that you are meant to be together.
I once had a mom tell me that her family was not ordinary.  Her son is married to a girl of a different religion and different race, her daughter is married to a man of a different race, and her son has a stepson. She completely loves her family and didn't mean it at all in a mean way.  I thought that it was funny that she was telling me that they weren't ordinary because I was raised by a single parent and I have a daughter who is adopted and Inuit. Am I not the one that is out of the ordinary? At that moment I realized that we are all ordinary people living ordinary lives...our own lives.  
If you are ever faced with a decision and are worried because it might make you out of the ordinary, remember that it means you are extraordinary.  And everything is ordinary.

JOY

Everyone who wants children deserves to have a beautiful, healthy, happy baby.  And everyone deserves to have that baby when they want to.  The struggle to have children is really trying for so many people.  I love hearing that someone who has struggled has finally gotten what they've wanted for so long.  It's not that I'm not happy when I hear about the birth of all babies.  Bringing a baby into the world is an amazing experience.  But when I hear that a baby is born to an "infertile" couple (or if I hear that they've adopted...which has only happened once) I am filled with incredible joy...the end of a journey, the end of a struggle...the beginning of a new family together.  Everyone deserves that happiness.

Welcome Rowan...I am so glad you have arrived!

Life's Not Fair

After years of hating every pregnant woman (even ones I liked or people who's "turn" it was to be pregnant) I'm finally at peace with it all.  I am finally happy. My pain is gone but instead of my own pain, I feel the pain of those around me.  Through my personal life and through this blog, I have learned of so many other people's struggles.  If I could, I would fix it for everyone.  I wish that I could become the stork and drop off the right baby on every door step.  I have literally tried this before but have learned that intervening has its consequences and that even when you think you have some control of the situation...you do not. 
I have friends who are trying unsuccessfully, are trying fertility treatments, and those who are taking a break.  Watching everyone and through my own personal experiences, it is the dream of the future and the loss of that dream that breaks hearts everytime.  No matter how hard the journey, in my experience the loss of a baby is most painful.  I have seen embryos and become attached to them...only later to learn that they are gone, but never have I experienced a positive test only to have it later taken away.  I cannot begin to imagine that pain.  I have created imaginary families enough times without that positive.  To imagine what it would be like further down that road is impossible. 
People always ask what to say or how to help a friend struggling with infertility.  I wish I knew the answer to those questions for moms who have experienced a loss.  I wish I knew how to touch their hearts and steal some of their pain.  Supposedly life only gives you what you can handle.  I hope that is true and that those moms will move on with their lives.  I hope that someday they will stop feeling their own personal pain and will be able to say that they are happy too.
Until then, you are in my thoughts, my prayers, and my heart.

I felt a determination cover my body like a quilt on a winter night

Racism is still with us. But it is up to us to prepare our children for what they have to meet, and, hopefully, we shall overcome.
-Rosa Parks

On December 1, 1955 Rosa Parks refused to obey the bus driver's order that she give up her seat to make room for a white passenger.  Following standard practice the bus driver noted that the front of the bus was filled with white passengers and there were two or three white men standing. He moved the "colored" section sign behind Parks and demanded that four black people give up their seats in the middle section so that the white passengers could sit. Years later, in recalling the events of the day, Parks said, "When that white driver stepped back toward us, when he waved his hand and ordered us up and out of our seats, I felt a determination cover my body like a quilt on a winter night."
-Wikipedia

I have heard that it is more common to experience racism here in Saskatchewan than most other provinces in our country.  If you would have said that to me four years ago, I just would have shrugged.  It's definitely not that I think racism is okay, I just hadn't really noticed that it was that big of an issue.
But in my opinion everyone is human and being human means that you can feel.  What right does someone have to make another person hurt on purpose?  The actions of others with the same color skin as yours does not mean that you will or will not make the same choices.   Why should you have to pay for what others have or have not done?
There have been many times in my life when someone has told an inappropriate joke.  I never really ever found them to be funny but I decided to chuckle along to avoid embarrassment.  But one day a joke was told about native people (and they didn't say native people) in front of a very wonderful woman whose husband happens to be native.  It was at that moment that I realized that these jokes are harmful.  And by not saying that I think it is wrong, I'm just as bad as the person telling it.
Lily is Inuit.  We are very proud that she is Inuit and have a great opportunity to learn about their history and culture in our country.  We have decided that she is going to live in a racism free zone.  I can no longer ignore comments or jokes, but have to approach the topic and explain why it is wrong.  Unless, you specifically know Lily is Inuit, it is hard to decide whether she is Inuit, Native, Japanese, Korean, or Chinese.  People of all different races have assumed that she is the same race as them.  Therefore, I am completely amazed when someone who knows Lily still tries to make racist comments to me.  They don't realize that often their collective comments include my beautiful daughter.
When Lily was only one year old a little girl at her daycare would not play with her because she had "funny skin". Fortunately the topic was approached early and a discussion about skin color fixed the problem.  Lily wasn't old enough to know what was going on...but she is now.
We used to go to Indoor Playground.  There was a mother of three little girls who would call her children back with excuses like "Here's a drink." or "Here's a cookie." everytime they would play with Lily. At first I thought that maybe Lily had done something to them but when it happened weeks in a row, I realized that her mom didn't like Lily because she was not white.  Because I didn't want to make Lily aware of the situation, I decided not to approach that mother, but I still think about what I would say if I did.
We were at the swimming pool one day.  I know that you are supposed to keep your kids within an arms length of you at all time, but we were in the paddling pool and there were kids everywhere.  We were definitely not the only parents giving our kids some extra space.  The lifeguard walked into the water and pulled Lily out by her arm.  I ran over immediately and she was telling Lily that she can't be in the water without her parents.  When I approached her and said she was my daughter she was embarrassed...and she should have been.  She only approached the kid she assumed was native.  I looked around at that exact moment and there were probably about ten other kids she could have pulled out as well.
I'm not sure this is a case of racism or just plain stupidity.  Last winter I was in a store looking at winter jackets.  Lily was on the other side of the rack.  I couldn't quite see her but I kept peeking around to make sure she was still there.  Suddenly this woman takes her by the hand and starts to walk away.  I chase her saying, "Excuse me. That's my daughter." She looks at me blankly and turns away still pulling Lily along with her.  I catch up and grab Lily's other hand.  The woman looks and me and says, "I'm taking her to her parents."  She points to an Asian couple near the till.  I say, "Actually I'm her mother."  She looks at me like I'm the crazy one but lets go and walks away...towards the Asian couple.  She actually stopped and asked them if I had their child.  I guess she's never seen an interracial family or heard of adoption before?
Just the other day I was at Extreme Pita waiting for our pita pizzas to finish baking.  Lily asked to go to the front and look out the window.  She was quietly looking out the window and not making any sound.  A woman comes in and stands beside me.  She keeps looking at Lily...and not in an "Oh she's cute." sort of way.  Finally she says to me, "I can't believe her parents would just leave her here like that."  Are you kidding me????  I walk over and bring Lily back to me.  The woman looks embarrassed but doesn't say a word.  Lily was being a very fantastically well-behaved little girl and that lady's personal feelings allowed her to see it as something completely different.
So remember, everytime you think of someone in a negative manner not because they have done something, but because you assume they are capable of something, imagine how that would feel if the situation were reversed.  Remember that every word you say and every action you do is taken into consideration by your children and the people around you.  There are so many things that are acceptable in our society that shouldn't be.  Sometimes I find myself saying something without realizing what it really means.  Sayings like "jewed them down", or "I was gypped" are harmful too.  Jokes are not funny.  And often assumptions are wrong.  Make sure you understand how things really work before commenting on them.  As times change, those that are racist will become the "bad guys" and they will be frowned upon.  There have been many improvements over the years and it will only get better.  Help to make the difference...not to drag it down.

And remember how harmful racism could be to my beautiful little girl...if we let it.

Take me up in your hot air balloon and feed me cotton candy

I often wonder if music affects others in the same way that it affects me.  The right song can fill your soul.  A familiar song can take you back to a place that it represents in your memory.  A piece of music can completely change your mood in a moment.  The funny thing is that it doesn't matter to me what kind of music it is.  It could be classical or a song on the radio, but the right piece of music can stay in your heart forever.
I had never been to the symphony before and I really got the tickets because Chantal Kreviazuk was singing with the Saskatoon Symphony Orchestra.  The music was beautiful.  It was hard for me to decide if I should watch her sing or close my eyes and let my soul be filled by the sounds of the symphony.  It was amazing how so many instruments could come together to make one unified sound.  The music completely filled the room.
Music is therapeutic to me.  When I was in the middle of the infertility experience I would lose myself in "Doesn't Remind Me" by Audioslave....wow, what a voice. The lyrics talk about all the things he likes because they don't remind him of anything.  I was in the middle of an experience where everything I thought of or saw reminded me of babies, mothers, or pregnancy.  "I like driving backwards in the fog because it doesn't remind me of anything."
I wouldn't have survived labour without music (or my husband...but that's not what this is about.) Songs like "Weak in the Knees" by Serena Ryder ("Would you mind if we pretend we're somewhere else?") or "Good Mother" by Jann Arden ("I've got a good mother and her voice is what keeps me here." "I've got a good father and his strength is what makes me cry.") The soothing sound of music and voices added a sense of relaxation to what I have to describe as a not very relaxing time.  And I had plenty of time to listen to music....yes, plenty.
There wasn't much that made me feel better during the worst of my post partum depression.  But, as usual, music could make its way through. I have to admit that I'm not a huge Adam Lambert fan but "What Do You Want From Me?" really expressed some of the things I was feeling.  ("Just don't give up.  I'm working it out. Just don't give in.  I won't let you down.  It messed me up.  Need a second to breathe.  Just keep coming around.") I felt like I was letting the world down...especially Scott and my kids...and I didn't want them to give up on me. 
There is a piece of me in so many songs that I hear.  So many memories built around music.  Ben Harper-Beloved One.  Chantal Kreviazuk-Feels Like Home.  Loudon Wainright-Daughter.  Sheryl Crow-Here Comes the Sun.  Sheryl Crow-My Favorite Mistake.  Metallica-Nothing Else Matters.  Anna Nalick-Breathe.  Wild Strawberries-I Don't Want to Think About it. Coldplay-Fix You.

Pieces of my life set to music.

Well, if you knew how much this moment means to me
And how long I've waited for your touch
And if you knew how happy you are making me
I never thought that I'd love anyone so much
-Chantal Kreviazuk

 

Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try!

Think left and think right and think low and think high. Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try!
-Dr. Seuss

When you are experiencing infertility you assume that you are just missing something and if you could just figure out what it is, you can fix it.  We have tried all kinds of things in attempt to create our family....some sensible, some completely nuts.  But in hindsight they were all worth it.  Everything we tried gave us hope...and hope kept us going.

We tried ovulation tests.  They are expensive and for me entirely useless.  Maybe I wasn't smart enough to time them correctly.  If that's the case, maybe I wasn't smart enough to time the whole thing anyway?  If you think that ovulation tests could be your next "answer" check out http://www.early-pregnancy-tests.com/. They sell them in bulk and for cheap.  Hopefully you don't need them in bulk, but in my experience....  While you are there, get yourself a pack of 100 pregnancy tests.  It could be fun and you will need them eventually.

We tried sex every day for a month.  You know...in case we weren't timing it right.  I know there are people out there who are thinking this would be fun, but unfortunately purposeful sex lacks the spur of the moment excitement...and you still have to do it even if you have the flu.  Should you try it? That's completely up to you.

We tried the temperature charts.  If you are charting, check out http://www.fertilityfriend.com/.  Another great way to take the fun out of sex and the funny thing about this one is it only tells you when you have already ovulated.  Nothing like too little too late.

Acupuncture.  I really enjoyed acupuncture.  How many people have an excuse to lay absolutely still for at least 1/2 hour every week?  I am a science kind of person, so I'm not sure what it is about acupuncture that helps with conception.  But there are studies that say that acupuncture can improve the success rate of IVF.  Acupuncture is a lot cheaper than repeated IVF so why not give it a shot?  Whether it is balancing the chi or just the fact that you are relaxing, acupuncture has made a believer out of me.  In Saskatoon, check out the Traditional Chinese Medicine Centre. Watch out for the herbs though...they taste pretty bad.

While we are on the topic of relaxation, you can always check out massage therapy.  Who isn't a fan of getting a massage?  I think massage therapy is good for general well being...but for all of you out there who think an infertile woman "just needs to relax and it will just happen", can you please explain to me why women get pregnant in war torn countries or Ethiopia??  

And then there is Pre-seed...google it, I'm not getting into it.  Standing on your head post-intercourse.  Carrying a rock in your left pocket and keeping another on the left hand side of your bed.  Using healing waters from the Virgin Mary.  Wishing upon stars. Relaxing. Going on a vacation to San Francisco...and Hawaii.   You name it, we tried it.

I recently went on a girl's shopping weekend.  After a few too many, we began discussing whether or not everyone wears underwear to bed.  Girls...you can understand how this conversation came up.  Guys...stop trying to understand girls.  Get over it.  Anyway, we came to the conclusion that everyone who had trouble conceiving wears underwear to bed.  Everyone who did not have trouble did not wear underwear to bed.  Honestly, our test pool was way too small to be statistically significant...but if you are willing to try everything else you can think of and this applies to you, what's one more experiment?

The important things to note are that if you are trying a million things that make absolutely no sense to you but you are trying them out of desperation...don't be embarrassed by it.  If they are giving you hope....be hopeful.  And...if trying something makes you uncomfortable, don't try it.  Your time will come when it is supposed to.

“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”
-Dr. Seuss

Jack Spratt

Jack was created on my husband's 30th birthday.  This was no rendezvous in the park. 

The previous fall we had decided that we wanted Lily to have a sibling.  We had put our names down on the adoption list for Saskatchewan and had spoken to our contacts in Nunavut and it didn't look like adoption was going to happen again for us any time soon.  We returned to the fertility clinic looking for suggestions and answers.  We needed to know what they thought after our previous failure.  We thought that they would tell us that our chances were lower because of a previous failed attempt, but the opposite was true.  They thought they could take our issues from the first cycle and use them to make a better cycle this time.  We paid our registration fee and were told that they would contact us in April.  They called in January to see if we would be ready to start our birth control so we could cycle in March.  I knew this would make for a December baby and I never wanted a December baby....it wasn't nice to get all their presents in one month and I was worried about them being the youngest in the class.  But, if I had learned anything, it was not to be picky...so I got really excited instead. 
A second IVF cycle is so different from the first.  The first time you are positive it will work.  You are terrified of the needles and interested in every part of the protocol. The second time you are not fooled by the first timers' excitement, the needles are boring, and you try not to think about what is happening at all.  We used a different drug to stimulate the egg production and this time we got more and they were ready in half the time.  (As an aside, we had a 30th birthday party early because we knew that we would be busy at Scott's actual birthday.  I had been drinking...totally different from cycle #1...and the alcohol thinned my blood so much that when I had to do my shots that night, it wouldn't stop bleeding.  We hadn't told anyone about this cycle so I was searching our bathroom for band aids for my belly....Yup...I went upstairs to shoot up at my husband's 30th birthday.)  On retrieval day we got eight eggs, six were fertilized, two implanted, and two frozen.  The first cycle we moved our bed into the living room so I could be entertained while on complete bed rest.  The second cycle I tried to be on bed rest but I had a toddler and so my bed rest was a bit less restful.  The first cycle I stayed on bed rest for three days.  During the second cycle we went for a walk because it was the first spring day and Lily wanted to splash in puddles.  I tried not to get too excited but when the day passed where I knew our cycle had failed the first time, I couldn't help it.  I ran to the bathroom every hour to check if I had my period.  I tested to watch the drugs leave my system.  I promised Scott I wouldn't test for a positive test and that we would wait to hear the results from the clinic....but I broke my promise.  When I got that first positive I could not believe it.  I had dreamed of that moment for so long and I had no idea what to do.  I tested throughout the whole pregnancy and was sad to see the positive tests go away after Jack was born.  The day of the ultrasound we found out that both the embryos had implanted but one of them no longer had a heartbeat....but there was a beautiful fantastic strong heartbeat on the screen.  I just wanted to stare at if forever.  I rented a doppler monitor so I could hear that beautiful sound whenever I wanted.
We had done it!!  And I now have two incredible kids!!

Supermom-ism

This can be about Superdad-ism too.  Please replace all the "moms" with "dads" throughout:

There is a huge difference between being the best mom you can be and being a supermom.  Supermom-ism is when you observe other moms and decide that they are better than you.  This drives you to try to be more like them and creates your Supermom-ism.  Just because another mom bakes everyday or has a super clean house or takes their kids to the park daily does not mean they are a better mom than you.  You are likely filling your time with your kids with other activities that those other moms don't have the time for...because they are busy being the mom that comes naturally to them.  If you love your kids more than the world and you give them everything you have to offer, you are the best mom you can be. We all need rests sometimes.  It's okay that your kids get fast food or you have a movie day because you are too tired (or lazy) to play.  You are not only a mom...you are human.

Before Jack was born, I gave being a mom to Lily my absolute all.  Because I worked full time, every moment I had with her was important.  We did activities on the days I wasn't at work, we filled our weekends with things she loved, we ate every meal at the table, I cooked healthy foods and snacks, and I played with her all the time.  When Jack was born both Lily and I believed that life could carry on as before.  I tried to do all things I had done before, but it was impossible.  How can you be giving your absolute all and then add twice as much.  Because I couldn't reach my expectations, I felt like a failure. It took some very great moms that I know to explain that a granola bar in front of the TV was still breakfast and that if Lily fell asleep in the car at lunch time, it was okay to eat lunch later in the afternoon.  It was okay to let other people see my disastrous house...come on admit it, you all clean up right before someone comes over.  Would it be so bad if others saw your house like they see their own? I didn't want to go out because we weren't all perfectly showered, bathed and dressed.  I didn't want others to see my baby cry...PS.  Babies cry sometimes.  I didn't invite people here because they would see that I couldn't keep it all together....my house, my two year old, my newborn, and myself.  It was too much. It was crazy.  I was crazy.  

Supermom-ism caused me to feel inadequate.  Supermom-ism made me depressed.  Supermom-ism made me a failure in my own eyes.  I have now learned that I am a great mom.  The things that make me great include having fantastic birthday parties, swimming with both my kids by myself (even when they were three months and two years), singing and dancing daily, owning every Disney movie, travelling with small kids, doing crafts, and sharing parenting responsibilities equally with my husband.  Things that make other moms great but that aren't me include having a clean house, baking goodies, staying out late, going for daily walks, etc.  While I would love to do all those things too, I only do them when I feel like it.  The pressure to perform is gone. There is no such thing as a perfect mom.  I have stopped trying to do it all and instead enjoy being the mom that I am.  

And I believe that in itself makes me a better mom.

Your assignment

Okay.  Here's your assignment.  Go to the nearest Sears (order desk or store) and pick up a copy of the Sears Wish Book.  I don't care if you are young or old...if you have kids or not, looking through that book brings back the excitement of Christmas.  I remember looking through that book when I was a kid.  There were so many toys....how could you even pick?  This year I sat Lily down with a marker and the Wish Book and let her circle everything she wanted for Christmas.  I thought she would circle everything, but she was very serious about it and therefore very selective.  She did ask for a different color so she could circle stuff for Jack, but I told her this was just for her.  I think she liked that idea.   This is the first year she has actually asked for something for Christmas.  It's that Wish Book.  I even looked through the gifts at the front to figure out my own Christmas list. 
Joy.  Wish.  Inspire.

Evacuation notice

My last day of work was a Friday.  I decided to go off work two weeks early so I could have some one on one time with Lily before the baby was born.  We had a regular weekend.  I had a doctor's appointment Monday so Lily went to daycare.  Tuesday we ran errands in the city.  We went to the hospital to have lunch with Scott.  Of course Lily wouldn't walk so I had to carry her the whole time.  After lunch we went home to have a nap.  I couldn't sleep because I was having "back spasms" from carrying Lily all day.  (In hindsight, these were irregular contractions!!)
That night Scott joked that sex brings on labour...it's none of your business whether or not this is true.  At 3:00 am I woke up.  I had heard that being this pregnant can make you urinary incontinent.  I couldn't believe that I had just peed the bed.  Gross.  I got up, finished peeing in the bathroom, changed my clothes and the bed and crawled back in.  I was just falling asleep when I peed again.  How was that even possible?  Gross.  I got up and went back to the bathroom, but I didn't even have to pee.  I changed (AGAIN!!) and laid a towel on the bed.  I'm just about asleep when I peed a third time.  What the hell?  I stood up to go back to the bathroom and WHOOSH!!  It wasn't pee at all.  My water broke!!  I start laughing hysterically at my own confusion.  I walked to the bathroom and stood there trying to figure out what to do.  There is a constant trickle down my leg and no one told me what to do about it on the way to the hospital.  I get things under control, finish packing my bag, and call our friends to let them know we are dropping Lily off there.  And ouch...a contraction.  In exactly the same spot that my back spasms were yesterday.  Time to wake up Lily and get to the city.  We get my bags....and I mean bags, into the car.  (You don't really need your housecoat, scrabble, make up, blow dryer, etc.  but I didn't know that yet!)  We are ready to go.  We start the car and all the lights on the dash start blinking.  Why now?  We turn off the car and start it again.  Blink, blink, ugh!  Months later we learn that it is something to do with a faulty command start, but why did it have to start that night??
We drop Lily off at our friends house.  It is 3:30 am and Lily knows we are excited about something so she is no longer tired.  Thank you Shannon for staying up with her and still choosing to be our friend!  This is one of many reasons that you are Jack's godmother. My contractions are now more regular.  Scott stops at 7-11 for a snack....men!  We get checked in and they need to swab me because they don't think my water broke....WHAT??  Did I really pee myself three times?  Nope...breakage confirmed.  I am assigned a bed and told to call them when my contractions are five minutes apart.  An hour later, we start timing them.  Five minutes....call the nurse.  Get checked.  Not yet.  They offer me morphine, but I don't want the baby to have any.  At 6:30 am, we call my mom to come to Saskatoon and pick up Lily.  She is excited... I'm losing my excitement to tiredness.  Noon...still contracting but not dilated.  Ugh!  They really encourage the morphine.  I am going to need sleep to keep going.  I accept.  I was told that the morphine would not stop the contractions.  Labour would progress while I slept.  Woke up 3-4 hours later...contraction free.  Mom comes to visit.  You can see the pity in her eyes as she had a long labour with me, but tries to act optimistic.  Mom goes to pick up Lily and we go for a walk around the hospital avoiding the fertility clinic area...I know how it felt to see those damn labouring women while I was their patient.  Oh how I wanted to be them with their faces scrunched up in pain. Contractions return. YAY!  Pain is actually minimal but I want to be checked again so I lie a little and say that it really hurts.  They check me again.  We are going to labour and delivery.
Nice place!  Rocking chair.  Ipod dock.  Phone.  Too bad your time there isn't more enjoyable.  Oxytocin started.  My first nurses weren't the best.  They suggested waiting until I couldn't stand the pain anymore before asking for an epidural.  In hindsight, this was a mistake.  Oxytocin cranked up.  Double contractions....one strong one followed by one less strong with little time in between.  More oxytocin.  Suddenly really strong contractions but every contraction makes the baby's heart rate drop.  Everyone realizes that the cord is around the baby's neck and so we try to find a better position to make the heartbeat more regular.  Nothing really works and I can no longer stand the pain.  Epidural, please.  Anesthesiologist in with another patient.  Fantastic husband and fantastic Sandi (my new nurse) help me not to lose my mind. Epidural in (why is it not immediate?) and finally relief.  They don't want to check me too much because it has now been 20 hours since my water broke and they don't want to introduce any bacteria.  I have a sudden urge to push and they say that there is no way that I am dilated yet.  I explain that I am going to push whether they check me or not.  They give in...and I was right.  Except where they are supposed to feel a head, they feel a hand.  Yes, my baby is waving hello to everyone.  They get the OB/GYN who stays for the rest of the delivery.  I have heard that they are not usually there for the whole thing so this worries me some.  It is now almost midnight and I really want to have this baby before midnight.  It is Scott's brother's birthday tomorrow and no one should have to share their birthday.  They say go ahead and push and I give it my all.  My husband and nurse are both incredibly helpful.  I keep pushing.  It is past midnight.  I didn't make it.  Suddenly I can hear the heart rate drop.  There is a flurry of activity.  They grab the vacuum.  (During prenatal classes I said that I did not want to use the vacuum or forceps. I told Scott if they wanted to, he should talk them out of it.)  Scott looks at me sadly.  At this point I realize that we are in some trouble.  One more push and the baby is actually ripped from me by the vacuum.  Super weird.  And IT'S A BOY!!  
Seriously?  I had been calling him she for nine months.

The one and only....pregnancy

Scott and I were discussing my pregnancy today.  It is funny how you forget the tough stuff and only remember it being blissfully happy.  Scott does not forget.  He labels the trimesters as scary, nice, and grumpy.  It's not that we're complaining....we have a beautiful baby boy.  It was totally worth it.
My pregnancy began on Scott's 30th birthday.  Most men would have some sort of celebration on that day.  Instead Scott got to hold my hand while our eggs were removed, masturbate in an old hospital bathroom, and wheel his semi-conscious wife back to our car.  I did take him out for lunch, but I don't know how good of company I was.  Days later I had to ask him where we went.  We hoped that we would be able to look back at that day as a present to him....and we do, because one of the embryos created on his 30th birthday became our son Jack.
Being that we had thought about eventually getting pregnant for seven years, we were excited to tell our families. We made a shirt that said "Big Sister December 2009" and went to Scott's parents house with Lily wearing it.  The reactions to that shirt were priceless.  Scott's parents initially thought it was a hand me down from someone else, but the date tipped them off to the pregnancy.  My mom stood in stunned silence trying to process the information.  My brother ignored the shirt even though we knew he had seen it.  I think he was too scared to try to guess what it meant.  And his girlfriend asked when we were "getting a baby."  The obvious question as that's what we did before.
Five days before my initial ultrasound I started bleeding.  I was sure I was losing the baby but because we were on holidays in another city, my fertility clinic couldn't really help us.  The morning of the ultrasound was so scary.  When they pointed out that little heartbeat, my own heart skipped a beat.  How could you already be in love with something so small.  They pointed out another gestational sack that no longer had a heartbeat.  I was sad for a moment for that baby, but knew that there was a chance there would be no heartbeat at all and so I celebrated the fact that there was.  We began to show people the picture of the ultrasound.  We couldn't keep it a secret any longer.
At ten weeks I woke up to a rush of blood.  I ran to the bathroom and was shocked to see how much blood I had lost.  I called the OB/GYN at the hospital and she suggested that I wait until morning and then call the clinic.  I did NOT sleep.  In the morning we had another ultrasound.  We saw and heard the heartbeat again.   (Scott pointed out that the sound wasn't actually the heartbeat but the machine creating a sound from the ultrasound.  Sometimes having a diagnostic person in your family isn't too fun. ) I had bleeding off and on for three weeks and ended up having to go on bed rest for two weeks.  Super scary the whole time.  Many sleepless nights and ultrasounds later, the bleeding stopped.
The second trimester was wonderful.  It was nice to be big enough that people could tell you were pregnant but not so big that you were uncomfortable.  I felt beautiful.  It was incredible.  We went on vacation to Vancouver Island.  We hiked, we swam, we relaxed.  It was blissful.
I don't think I was grumpy in the third trimester.  Perhaps my co-workers would disagree.  Scott certainly would.  I was due December 15th but I was sure that "she" would be born on November 30th.  I was sure it was a girl all along.  So much for mother's intuition.  November 30th came and went.  I now thought I would be late.  My mom was really overdue with me and I thought I was in for the long haul.  When my water broke on December 2nd, I had no idea what was happening to me.  I thought I had peed the bed, but was amazed when I kept peeing the bed over and over.  And whoever is telling you that there is no whoosh when the water breaks...well, they're not telling you the whole truth.
During my whole infertility journey, I thought the positive pregnancy test would mean success.  But the fear and the stress never went away until I held my baby in my arms. I thought I would relax after the first trimester, but I didn't.  They say that a baby is viable after 30 weeks, but that didn't do it either.  Labour was long and stressful.  It had it's moments of fear.  I had to actually hold him to know that we had made it.

Miraculous Science

Assisted Reproductive Technology is always a controversial topic.  There are the people who believe that it should (or should not) be paid for by the government.  There is the religious aspect.  The Catholic church is certainly not a big fan.  Much to my mother's dismay, we joked that Jack might burst into flames during baptism.  This was not the case.  I once participated in a chat room where two women were arguing about whether their pregnancies were miracles or acts of science.  I just kept thinking to myself, "Does it matter?  Won't your baby be just as fantastic either way?" There is also the concern about multiples, premature infants, and birth defects.  Trust me.  I've heard it all.

I wish everyone had the opportunity to check out the walls of photos in my fertility specialist's office.  The walls are covered.  I think they might have to use the ceilings next.  These are families who weren't able to be families without it.  It's tough to argue all those other points when you see Jack smile or wave for the first time.  It's tough to think it could possibly be wrong when you stare at his peaceful face when he is sleeping.  I was lucky to have the support of family and friends but I know lots of people who had to keep it a secret because their family thinks it is wrong. 
I know so many people affected by infertility and I have been fortunate to be able to share in so much joy at the birth of their babies.   I also have friends who are currently trying and I can't wait to hear about their successes.  I have a friend who has twins, a boy and a girl, and is currently awaiting her ultrasound to see how many babies there are from her current  IVF success.  I have another friend with a two year old girl and newborn baby boys from superovulation.  I have a friend with a two year old girl from IVF and a surprise one year old boy.  There is the three year old boy awaiting his brother or sister all from IVF.  There are the three year old twins from IUI and the four year old twins from IVF.  These are all close friends who wouldn't have their families without assistance.  I know of so many other acquaintances who have been helped as well.  The issues just don't compare to the love I have seen. 
I'm not going to argue why the issues are right or wrong.  I'm just too busy being a mother to my answers anyway.

The feast

The history of Thanksgiving in Canada goes back to an explorer, Martin Frobisher, who had been trying to find a northern passage to the Pacific Ocean. Frobisher's Thanksgiving was not for harvest but homecoming. He had safely returned from a search for the Northwest Passage, avoiding the later fate of Henry Hudson and Sir John Franklin. In the year 1578, he held a formal ceremony to give thanks for surviving the long journey. The feast was one of the first Thanksgiving celebrations by Europeans in North America. (Wikipedia)

There is something about being allowed to have a large belly during pregnancy that I found comforting.  I have been a fat person in a skinny body, but I have never been a real skinny person.  It seems that everything on the lips ends up on the hips and requires some serious Weight Watchers to be removed again.   It is funny how you meet different people at different stages of your life.  Some think that I was once big, got skinny, and now back to big. (They're right.)  Others think I was naturally thin, but pregnancy did this to me.  (They have been fooled.) Regardless, if I am going to be hanging out on the beach in Hawaii, some serious work needs to be done.
I was fortunate to have a group of friends who all had babies around the time that I had Jack.  Except for a few friends (and I did consider removing them from my friend pool) most of them took some time getting back into their pre-pregnancy jeans.  I watched while they did this, but made little effort myself.  I even considered staying this size.  I had an excuse now, didn't I?  But I did reach a point when it was time to return to WW in hopes of wearing the many clothes still hanging in the very back of my closet.
All was going really well when the feast crept up. The leader at WW spent the entire meeting discussing the number of points belonging to each traditional Thanksgiving food and how to avoid the "bad ones" such as pumpkin pie and stuffing.  The whole meeting there was this insane laughter in my brain as I knew that I was going to be eating a lot of pumpkin pie, stuffing, and well, probably enough other things to make my belly actually hurt from the strain.  My thoughts on the this were entirely different than hers (although I appreciated her effort).  If I want to be a reasonably thin person long term, I am still going to have to be allowed to eat the feast.  My family has many traditions and most of them revolve around food.  We even plan our vacations around food. 
I will diet until I reach a happy weight for me and then I will attempt to maintain that weight when I get there....but I will not give up the good stuff in life to be thin.  Life's too short. 

When your family tree is actually an orchard

This past summer we had the opportunity to spend some time with Lily's birth family.  Before Lily, I would have assumed that a closed adoption would be the best way to do things.  The threat of another family created fear in my mind.  But now that I have Lily, I know that an open adoption is definitely better for her.  It's not like we could trick her.  Eventually she will look in the mirror and notice that something doesn't quite look the same.  And so we have been open with her since birth. Can you imagine dropping the bomb that your child was adopted if it was kept a secret for awhile? And wouldn't it look you considered it a bad thing if you had hidden it from them?  We have taken it upon ourselves to celebrate her adoption.  When she was adopted she became part German and part English.  She was always Canadian.  And when she was adopted a part of us became Inuit.  We are a family and when you are a family you are a piece of everyone in your family.  Adoption is a word that she learned just like shoe, juice, or ball.  I'm sure she doesn't completely understand it, but that understanding will eventually come to her just like understanding the concepts of big and little, or up and down.  We have adoption books in our house.  We read them as often as any other book and when she is older we will take part in events organized by the Adoption Support Centre.  I'm not fooling myself that there won't be issues.  Any parent thinking that they can guide their child to adulthood without issues is fooling themselves.
Lily is lucky to have wonderful birth parents.  It is not my place to tell their story, but I want everyone to know that they are selfless and loving people.  People ask me all the time if they are poor and unemployed. That is not the case.  They have five beautiful children; four girls and one boy. They are kind and smart and sweet.  We are all so lucky to have them as a part of our family.  It will be so much easier to tell Lily where she comes from and about her culture because we have them in our lives.  And of course, their kids are adorable.  They look a lot like Lily.
But we have cultural differences that we have to work through.  We were all uncomfortable at first.  You could tell that they wanted to run to Lily and hold her, but held themselves back understanding that she is shy like their own daughters.  We wanted to do different things in Winnipeg because different things were important to us.  We are in the city all the time so regular city things don't interest us on vacation, but that is entirely different for them.  We all met up at the Forks and went to the Children's Museum.  It was an opportunity for the kids to be kids and Lily spent a lot of time playing with her sisters.  They were really cute together.  There were twinges of jealousy when they would look at her like their own, but I was the one going home with her at the end of the day.  There was an aboriginal festival at the Forks and there was a demonstration of traditional Inuit games.  They were interesting to watch, especially with our own commentators.   And it was really hard to say our goodbyes.  We know we will see each other again.  We just don't know when.
We are so fortunate to have this experience, even without Lily being the joining factor.  Inuit people are part of our Canadian culture and I had no knowledge of their language or culture before this.  I am a better person because of them.

Dreaming....of bears, sandy toes, and palm trees

Once you know that you are ready to start a family, you start dreaming about what it will be like.  Everyone has a different idea of what will be important to them to share with their children.  For example, during our struggles to have a family, Scott would sadly stare at the Build a Bear stores and wish he could go in a make one for his own kids.  Lily got her first Build a Bear when she was four months old.  We had to wait that long because there wasn't a store in Saskatoon yet and we had to go to another city to make it.  Lily is now the proud owner of Charley, Morris, Hoppy, and Shimmery.  Jack is the proud owner of Rufus. 

Scott and I both absolutely love Hawaii.  We both went with our families when we were kids and we have gone together a bunch of times too.  Our favorite island is Kauai because it is quiet, slow paced, and feels like you have actually stepped back in time.  Every time we have gone to Hawaii together, I have thought about my own little baby bums someday running along the long white beaches.  There is something about sandy baby bums and tiny wiggling toes that I just adore.  We haven't told anyone yet but we are going to Hawaii in February.  It is totally the wrong time to go.  I will just be back to work from maternity leave and since maternity leave pays poorly, our money situation isn't at its greatest.  But it's important. I really wanted to go while our kids were small and I really wanted to go with just our little family of four.  Sometimes our irresponsible decisions turn out the be the very best ones!!

What does progesterone do to the birds anyway?

This post isn't really about birds.  But just for interest sake, birds who are given more progesterone hatch more females.  I would have thought it to be the other way around being that progesterone is more of a male hormone.  But that really is beside the point.  This post is really about IVF cycle #1....better known as my costly failure.
Back when I knew that getting pregnant wasn't going to be easy, but before I really knew how difficult it was actually going to be, I used to say that I wasn't interested in trying in vitro fertilization.  To me it was like putting a $10000 deposit down on a car with only a 50% chance of actually getting the car.  As time past and I became more desperate to become a mother, my thoughts on IVF changed completely.  I now suggest that anyone who is struggling at all to get pregnant should get a referral to a fertility clinic early in the ball game.  It often takes a long time to get in and once you realize you need it, that wait is painfully long. So what if they call you and you are already pregnant?  What harm is there in that?

Even though I was pretty sure early on that we were going to have issues, my family doctor made me wait eight months before referring me to the gynecologist.  Gynecologists are female experts, but they are not fertility experts.  They are a good start to help you track your cycle to see where things are at.  I did 13 cycles of Clomid (a drug which causes and improves ovulation.  This is often how high number multiples are created.)  The recommended number of Clomid cycles is never to be more than 12 cycles in your lifetime.  My last two cycles of Clomid were IUI cycles (where they monitor your cycle and then introduce your partner's sperm into the uterus via a catheter at just the right time. Very romantic.)  Usually people do three cycles of IUI but after the two failures, I was starting to literally fall apart and decided to take a break until we could get into the fertility clinic.
We met with the fertility specialist and she recommended that we try IVF.  At this point we had tried everything else and so my opinion on this costly venture had changed.  We first needed genetic testing, which was the first thing we passed in a long time, but it added more time to our wait.  Our first appointment at the clinic was in November and by April things were finally a go.
This is the story of my first IVF cycle.  Everyone is different and every cycle is different, so don't think they all go exactly like this. The ironic thing about starting an IVF cycle is that you are put on birth control.  This is to make sure you are in the right part of your cycle when they want to begin.  It felt really weird after all that time to actually need birth control again.  And then start the vaginal ultrasounds....large object in large condom placed in the vagina to get a good look at the uterine lining and ovaries.  The first time this happened, the room had two doctors and three residents.  My husband, always the joker (but sometimes inappropriately so), made a joke that this reminded him of that time in Mexico.  No one laughed and he became even more quiet and uncomfortable.  Oops.  You are then started on a medication that suppresses the body's ability to make its own hormones.  It is like going rapidly into menopause.  And then start the stimulation hormones which produce a high number of eggs in each ovary.  Every few days you return for blood work and another ultrasound to make sure everything is going well and to adjust your dose.  Unfortunately, the drug that I was injecting wasn't working for me and by the tenth day of injecting and testing, I was switched to another.  This drug worked better but the first drug caused me to produce very few eggs and the ones that we had were of poorer quality.  It was too late in the cycle to do anything about it and so we pushed on.  When the follicles containing the eggs are large enough and your estrogen level is at an appropriate level, you inject another drug which ripens the eggs.  Exactly 36 hours later, those eggs are retrieved.  You start inserting progesterone capsules vaginally three times a day to get the lining ready for implantation.  This continues until a negative pregnancy test or 12 weeks pregnancy.  It is not fun, but you get used to it after a while.  The day of retrieval you are given Ativan to relax you and narcotics by IV.  I'm not going to lie.  Having a needle stuck through your vaginal wall and into your ovaries over and over is extremely painful even on those drugs.  We retrieved six eggs.  I was really disappointed.  We rested for a bit and then headed for home.  I passed out in the elevator and my dear husband had to carry me to a bench and get me a wheelchair.  I can't remember any of it.  And then we went out for lunch.  It had become a routine for us to go for lunch following any procedures and so we went again.  I can't remember that either.  The next day they called to tell us that four eggs were immature and could not be fertilized but the other two had fertilized.  This caused panic because we were putting two embryos back in and what if they didn't make it to transfer?  Not all fertilized eggs become embryos and if they do, not all embryos are good quality.  But we weren't going to have a selection.  I prayed for the next three days.  I don't often pray.  I think that if there is a God that is actually listening, there are so many other things that he or she should be looking after.  But this time I decided I wanted it to be me.  The day of transfer we had two beautiful embryos.  We were hopeful and happy.  They were transferred back into me the day before Mother's Day and so I spent that Mother's Day on bed rest but knowing that I had babies swimming in my belly.  The vaginal progesterone is supposed to keep you from getting your period but exactly one week after transfer, I got my period anyway.  No one knows why, but these things happen.  Unfortunately I was at work and I was devastated.  I called the office and they said that sometimes people have bleeding and still end up pregnant.  I wanted to believe them but I didn't.  Because there was a chance I continued my progesterone up until my pregnancy test a week later.  Because we knew things did not look good, we planned a trip to Edmonton for that weekend.  We needed some time away together to mourn the loss of those babies.  We had seen pictures of those embryos and had become attached to the idea of the family we were to become.  I went to get my blood taken and then we jumped in the car and drove to Edmonton.  I brought the progesterone just in case we had a miracle and I still needed it.  Halfway there, the nurse called my cell phone.  The result was negative.  We were not going to be that family that we had dreamed of.  Without thinking, I opened the car window and let my progesterone fly through the air.  They are perfectly round little balls and they looked really neat bouncing on the highway behind us.  I don't know why, but something about that made me feel a bit better.  In hindsight, there were probably a lot of female birds hatched in that area from my progesterone.