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.

Instinct is Best!!

No one knows your baby like you do. If you think something is wrong, you are probably right.  You see it everywhere....breast is best.  But it is only best if you can produce enough milk and milk that contains the proper nutrients.  I am not trying to discredit those who breastfeed.  You amaze me and you should be so proud of your accomplishments.  Breast milk contains the proper fat content for every age of your infant and can pass immunity to your baby.  This was incredibly important to me being that Jack was born right in the middle of the H1N1 shenanigans.  We were released from the hospital one day after his birth.  I wanted to get home to Lily and start my new life with my baby.  The next day I returned to emergency because I was peeing blood.  It was only a urinary tract infection, but that infection stayed with me for another three weeks.  The day after that, the healthy and home nurse came for a visit and tested Jack's blood because he appeared jaundice.  We returned to the hospital where he was admitted and stayed for three days.  It it kind of funny that they tell you the importance of taking regular baths after giving birth.  There was no bathtub in peds.  I slept on a tiny cot and the room had another baby in it whose mother was not there and she cried most of the night.  Jack was quite sick by this point.  They tried to get an IV into his head 13 times before it worked.  He didn't squirm or cry.  He just laid there sadly looking up at those who were trying to help him.  He was put on IV fluids and was fed formula so the doctors could monitor his intake.  I tried to pump as much as possible, but the pump was in another room and I had to leave him alone to do so.  Between my body trying to fight the infection, the stress of the hospital stay, the lack of actual nursing time, and not pumping as often as I should have...my milk production was low.  I was put on every drug and herb to make milk.  They measured Jack's weight every two days.  He was growing according to the growth chart but he cried....alot!!  They assumed he was a needy baby.  I assumed he was hungry, but I certainly didn't want to fail at breastfeeding...and so I continued.  The breastfeeding struggle only worsened my post partum depression and I had lost my instinct as a mother.  Why did I think he was hungry all the time if he was growing appropriately?  Finally I gave in and switched to formula.  (Which contains the Vitamin D that is missing in breast milk and also has the needed iron to make switching to meats immediately at six months not as important!!)  He smiled, he laughed, he slept longer...and he stopped crying.  No one knew that Jack took after his 6'9" daddy when measuring him on those charts.  I had been right.  He had been hungry.  He grew like a weed and gained a bunch of weight...and he was happy! I truly believe that the very best mothers follow their instinct.  Sometimes that's all you've got!!