Merry Christmas

I was inspired to bake this year. I've done Christmas baking in the past, but not for a few years. I think I was inspired by Ashley at Calmly Chaotic who showed us pictures of her delicious looking baked goods. I tried those Hello Dolly bars, which were a big hit with Mr. A, as well as the whole wheat gingerbread cookies. Yum. I also made pistachio-apricot triangles, sugar cookies and espresso chocolate snow caps. Overall, the gingerbread and pistachio-apricot triangles were the ones that turned out the best. Thanks for the inspiration Ashley (and if you don't know her blog, I encourage you to feast your eyes on her lovely posts which are often filled with beautiful pictures (including of her gorgeous girls))

Christmas cookies are so fun to make

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas or Happy Hanuka or simply, Happy Holidays. Thank you for your support and friendship this year, dear women.

Vitamin D and adoption are unrelated topics

I continue to sit at work with not much to do. Today, I have scoured etsy for last minute Christmas gifts, I have written emails to friends with whom I have not been in touch in a long time, and I have tried to read a very dry, but very relevant (but very dry) book on Learning Disabilities. I am struck by the contrast from my last job where 11-12 hours each day wasn't enough to get my work done. It's funny how it's so uncomfortable to have things out of balance, in either direction. I suspect I will be very  busy again before I know it.

So, while I have some time to spare, dear reader, let me entertain you with thoughts on disparate topics.

1) Vitamin D: If you have not come across Jay's blog at Stork Stalking, I strongly encourage you to check it out. Through reading her blogs and generous comments on my blog and others' blogs, I have come to appreciate the relevance of vitamin D in health related matters, not the least of which infertility. For a thorough explanation of the impact of vitamin D deficiency in infertility, start with her tab on the science of infertility and continue on by searching for through the vitamin D label. Jay has such a great ability to make complex scientific information accessible, and I feel very grateful for how willing she is to share her knowledge.
After reading some of the info on vitamin D deficiency, I started to supplement with 2000 iu per day. I thought it couldn't hurt. After about 2 months of this, and after my trip to Cuba in the sun, I visited my family doctor and asked her for labs, including vitamin D. Since I have osteopenia, she was all for it and sent me off to get this tested, along with the usual suspects (tsh, CBC, glucose, iron). The only thing that came up as low was, you guessed it, my vitamin D levels. I was advised to supplement with 1000 to 2000 iu per day, but I sometimes go up to 3000. And perhaps I should go higher. I have to say that I am hoping to improve my chances for the next round of treatments by making sure my D is in the happy zone.

2) Adoption: I have not given many updates on our adoption process here, so I thought I'd update you now. We did finish our home study in November and our social worker Gretchen said she would have the report done in January. We did the adoptive parent training intensive back in Sept/Oct. We are technically at the point of being a "family in waiting". Except that I have not signed us up with the agency or any licensee as of yet. I thought about doing that when Gretchen suggested we call up the agency and put our names on the list, but I think it's the wrong time right now. On one hand, I would like to put all our sticks in the fire and just see what happens. But on the other hand, it would mean that if the agency wanted to present us to birth parents, we would have to say no because we are in active treatment. And I think that knowing there are birth parents who could potentially chose us would really mess with my mind. Especially if the subsequent round of DE IVF failed. As awful as it is, I experience regret and guilt often in my life and I would find a way to regret and feel guilty for the fact that we said no to being presented. Can you see the mindfuck implications?

I still experience a conflict inside about the adoption versus the treatment route. I am and have always been very open about adoption as an option for creating our family. And I am and always have been wanting/hoping/praying to be pregnant one day.  

There is a very disentitled part of me that doesn't entirely believe we deserve the gift of pursuing treatment at a US clinic. Fortunately, there is another part of me that knows to take the gift simply because it is being presented to us, and to just be thankful. The disentitled part of me says that I should just accept my medical condition and stop trying to have science perform miracles by making me pregnant. (I know, that's quite a statement to make to a group of infertiles, but that's me, ready to shock at any hour). Move on and...wait for it... just adopt (you know I'm being sarcastic here). I realize that this makes adoption sound like the consolation prize, but that is not my point. My point is that there are babies being born from women who can conceive but cannot parent, and that I can parent but cannot conceive, so I should maybe focus on trying to parent such a baby, instead of insisting on defying the odds through a medical intervention.

But then, the 'what ifs' start bubbling up. I got pregnant last time, what if I were to get pregnant again? What if this time, I didn't have a miscarriage? What if by some miracle, I got the baby to term and we had a child through DE? Well, that would be swell (note the apt use of a euphemism).

And what is the advantage of DE over adoption for us? Well, we're not too concerned about whose genes reside in our child. Of course, we would like to avoid things like Huntington's or other such awful genetic diseases, but frankly, it doesn't make a huge difference for Mr. A or I to have our child share his genes or not. Not at this point in our journey. I know that might sound discrepant from your experiences, but that's where we are at. If the door to using your OE slams in your face, you orient towards other options. We want to be parents; that is our main priority. Then it should not make that big of a difference whether we focus on adoption or DE. The difference for me is that the pregnancy itself is a very important part. I want to be pregnant. I have had numerous dreams of being pregnant, I've always believed I would be pregnant and if there is any possibility that it will happen, I feel like I have to pursue it. I don't think it's better than adoption, I think it's just that all things being equal, I would prefer to start with our child from the very beginning.

And I know the pregnancy may never happen again. The 12 weeks we had last spring may be it. But it feels like I have to give it a good try. It doesn't put adoption off the table for us. We are thinking that a second child would come to us through adoption and it is something we both want.

I worry about this post and whether I've offended anyone in talking about where I'm at with all this. Please know that this was not intended to offend. It's just me working through all of my thoughts in writing. I think it's very tricky to straddle the ART and adoption worlds. People tend to be in one camp or the other (or one camp after the other might be more accurate). Yet, some of you straddle the two beautifully. I'm not there yet. I'm in the messy phase of sorting it all out.

the week after

Got through it fine. The date came and went. And now it's the week after the due date and I am trying to look forward.

We have scheduled our one-day intensive work up at the Gro.ve for Jan 6. We are flying out on the 5th and returning home by train on the 7th, much to Mr. A's delight (with a 45 min layover in Penn Station on Saturday morning, for New Yorkers who would like me to treat them to coffee). Honestly, I hate flying. I can do it wihtout having a panic attack (barely) but it really creates a lot of distress in me. I certainly was opposed to having to fly after an embryo transfer. What chance would that little peanut have with all quantities of cortisol thrown at it? While there will be no embryos transfered on this trip, we can practice the trips in and out as they will look like when we go for the transfer. Familiarity is our friend in this situation.

I am not sure what to expect. I am hopeful that all will go well and that we will like the team, but I must admit that it feels difficult to contemplate trusting another team. We have so much respect for our doctor in Ontario. It does help that the US doc and our doc know each other. My fear is that I will be treated like a number. For example, the whole question of taking lu.pron or another suppressor comes up in my head a lot. You will remember that I successfull argued against taking supre.fact during our first DE IVF cycle. I am concerned that taking a suppressor introduces too much noise in the equation for absolutely no benefit. There is nothing to suppress in my reproductive system. My pituitary gland is not sending down any LH or FSH. My ovaries most often cannot be visulazed on ultrasound. The Gro.ve doctor asked if my FSH was high, which is what any educated person would assume when seeing the diagnosis of premature ovarian failure. But I find that a poor diagnostic approximation for my condition. I have never ovulated. I will never ovulate. My body has never made gonadotropins. I know that's an abheration, but it's the hand I was delt. So when the doc insists on me having to take Lu.pron, not knowing how my body will respond to something it absolutely doesn't require for the procedure to be successful, I think I will have to put up a stink.

It's one thing to put up a stink with people you know, people who have treated you for years, people who already believe you are an educated and competent person. It's another thing to put up a stink with people who don't know you and might think you're a little bit spun. (which I am, really).

Anyway, I just broke my own rule by writing a blog post at work. But truth be told, I am underwhelmed at my new job and I don't have enough to do. So I feel justified.

How did it feel for you when you changed doctors and medical teams along your IF journey? Do you have any advice you think is important for me to know?

the due date

According to one IVF site, my due date was December 6. According to the nurse in our program, it was December 8. Sandwiched in between, I thought I'd submit a post to register the nonevent. A miscarriage. Months that have gone by where I imagined myself at different stages of pregnancy. And now the week, the day(s) where briefly, it was expected that we would welcome a baby into the world.

I visited my beloved therapist today. I talked about a lot of crap, but each time he brought me back to what this is: the due date. I want to avoid it, I said. We all want to get away from our pain, don't we, but you told me when we booked the appointment that it was the day before the due date. You wanted me to remember. 

Yes, beloved therapist. Yes. Remind me. Don't let me run from my pain, from my own experience. It's not much, but it's all mine.

Yes, beloved therapist. I wanted you to hold it for me. It's so hard to hold it by myself.

I feel like I said goodbye to owlet in June. In a way, I do not picture owlet having lived. He didn't. It was final. Unequivocal. I feel like this grim anniversary is not just for the little life that could have been but wasn't. It's also a marker of our failure to become parents.

I feel sad about not being able to honour Sattva's gift. I know it's nothing I did or didn't do. I just wish it could have worked.


I won't stay in this grief forever. We are moving on to the next steps. But I know that I need to pause now and mark this due date before I move on with our story. 

unfoldings

And I'm not talking about my winter sweaters, although those are frequently unfolding as well these days. We had a very short mini blizzard today, much to my delight. I am one of those silly Canadians who actually loves snow. Winter is on its way. Hello, cross country skiing.

There has been some progression since our return from vacation, both on the adoption front and on the fertility treatment front. We have actually completed our home study at this point. Our lovely social worker Gretchen has been to our house twice since our trip and we were able to wrap things up this week. It's just as nerve wracking as some of you have described in your posts to have the adoption counselor come over to the house. It was 2 days after returning from Cuba, and one day after starting my new job. I was frantic, but also reached a point where I had to let it go because there were too many balls in the air at the same time. The house was clean enough.  She noted a few things we need to take care of before a child can come into our home like cover the outlets, deal with the blind cords, secure some of the bookcases to the wall, but otherwise, she didn't write us off on the basis of an unkempt domicile. We like Gretchen very much and feel like we are in good hands with her. The next steps in the adoption process, given that we've completed the home study and done the parent training is to register with the private agency we have chosen, as well as some licensees in the region. We are not quite ready to do that yet, given what is happening on the other front.

Mr. A was anxious about having kids for a while in the fall, but he assured me that this anxiety didn't mean he wanted to call the whole thing off. He was in a slump, something I can relate to since I have found myself in various depths of slumps at different points in my life, and with offending frequency in the last 3 years. I can't say that at the time I was completely reassured. Maybe because I am still in slump territory myself, maybe because it's hard to trust that good things will ever happen, or maybe because that doesn't negate all the work we still have to put in to hope to become parents, but, you know, I didn't jump for joy when he said that. I just took it in quietly and thought "ok, then we'll work on our options."

The funding was a big issue for us, since it is not the kind of money we can tackle ourselves at the moment. Parents on both side have the means to help, but it was a question of stepping on our pride and asking them. On either side, we are the significant hope for bringing grandchildren into the family, as I am an only child and Mr. A has only one sibling who looks like he may not procreate. So, the answer was how much do you need and when do you need it by. That was a relief, a blessing. We have been in touch with the DC practice and even had a phone consult with the doctor on Tuesday morning. We are in the process of booking a time to go down for our one-day visit to the clinic for early January.

There is so much more to write here, but the clock has struck the 12 strokes of mid...(well, it's actually 9:40pm) and I am about to turn into a pumpkin.

Sending warm congrats to Roccie who has just welcomed little baby Jay.

Transitions update

The month of November is now almost over, and I have not posted much at all. As I've said in my last posts, there have been many transitions. A little recap of the past month:

• I finished my contract in FTT and finished it well. I completed all my reports and said all my goodbyes. It was difficult to leave. I had grown very attached to many people there. I miss them. I also miss the comfort of knowing how to work with different team members, and knowing the procedures. But boy, I really don't miss the part about living there part time and living at home on weekends. 

• Mr. A and I went to Cuba. It was a restful time, just as I had hoped. By chance, we landed in a terrific resort. It was terrific because it was very small, very new, very beautiful, and very quiet. The loudest part was the bus ride to the resort with patrons of other resorts in the neighborhood. Luckily, we dropped those guys off next door, and carried on with the quiet people to our resort. The week consisted of swimming, lying on a lawn chair, reading, eating, drinking and taking multiple showers in the outdoor shower on our back balcony. We really liked the Cuban people and vowed to return to explore Havana and other parts of the country. The week went by very fast, but in the end, it was what we were looking for. As promised, here are my toes:

  

  An unlikely pink for a not-very-girly woman

• We returned on Sunday November 13 and I started my new job on Monday the 14th. Quick turn around indeed. My new colleagues welcomed me warmly. I liked that. So far, it's been a slow start in terms of the work. I also like that, especially after the frenetic pace of the last job. I hope that I will like the work there, but if I don't, it will be time to look for another job in early next fall. 

• Living at home is wonderful. Minus the morning and evening commute in heavy traffic. I am driving to work towards one of the largest cities in Canada, so there is traffic. Lots of it. Luckily, Neko, my beloved little car is doing very well with all of this driving. And there is the CBC (homologous to NPR) to keep me company. Chicken is still in disbelief that I am here day after day, and most importantly for her, night after night (she likes to basically sleep on me. She tries to sleep on Mr. A when I'm not here, but he won't tolerate that. Me, I'm a big softy). 

The update on fertility treatments/adoption/our marriage deserves a longer post, one that I don't have in me at the moment. Suffice it to say that I was relieved to hear that Mr. A is still completely on board with project: bringing children into our lives.  I have lots of half written posts floating around in my head. I think it's worth my while trying to give them form and post them. But that will have to wait since I have to work on my application to start the process of getting my professional license.

the goodness in my life

I think a little while back I may have written something about searching for this very thing, the goodness in my life. I may just have thought it and not written, but it's been twirling around up there in my cerebrum.

I got an answer to that rhetorical question over the last week. I had been pouring all of the goodness I had inside me into my work. And my work gave back in a big way. My colleagues went over the top in showing how much they cared about me. They threw me a party, got me flowers, wrote me heartfelt cards, and told me that it just won't be the same without me. The principal of the school attached to our residential program even got me a certificate of merit, which he gives to the kids leaving the program. It moved me very much.

A gift from a beloved colleague

It was hardest to say goodbye to our team psychiatrist who is a beloved clinician at the facility, and has been a benefactor to me. When he heard I was looking for a job last summer, he wrote me a glowing unsolicited reference letter. It meant so much to me, and I re-read the letter at times when I feel my self-confidence waver.

It was also very hard to say goodbye to my friend Violet. She is a clinician on my team who I told about the pregnancy a few days before the ill-fated u/s that told us it was all over. Turns out she is an expert in grief, having lost several siblings in her family and gone through other losses over the last decade. She is the one who sent me home after the biopsy. She is the one who would make me laugh, and also let me cry. She is the one person at work who really understood the state I was in and how much I was holding while performing my duties at work. I will miss her.

And now it's time to pack my suitcase and head to Cuba. I will have drinks in your honour, dear women. I will be thinking of Jennifer who very recently had yet another tragic loss. I will thinking of CGD as she continues to navigate the dark, awful waters of marital strain. I will be thinking of Jess and hoping that an adoption placement materializes in the next week.  I will be thinking of Misfit and Ocho, as they continue together. I will hope that My New Normal experiences a very positive first ultrasound.

I will write when I return, with a picture of my freshly painted toenails in the white sand (you will remember my toenails from Pumpkin's picture of our feet in the Metro in Montréal).