wo der computer ist???

Augusta's Messy Desk

I think my computer is over here somewhere.  Is it?

Look at the state of affairs at my desk! Not pretty. You can see how mired I've been in my qualitative analysis. The thematic map at the forefront is about my 29th attempt.

Qualitative data analysis is fun and god awful. Both. That's a paradox I'm willing to live with (especially since my research also has 2 straightforward quantitative studies).  The qualitative study has not been particularly nice to me.  But then, things went better today after I went to see Sattva who is a superstar in these matters. With just a few incisive comments, she had my analysis organized so it made so much sense. Eggs AND research advice. I tell you, that woman is astonishing. 

One of Dr. Ninja's team members sent me my treatment protocol via email today. I still can't get used to that, where in my profession, sending something by email is almost as ethically wrong as sleeping with your clients. Not that I don't appreciate email. So, this fancy protocol, complete with herbs, and supplements and teas (beyond raspberry tea, Pumpkin), and acupuncture will cost me a lot of money. Somehow, I'm not getting overly alarmed. I've just decided to try trusting for once. Just to see. And I have the appointment booked with energy medicine woman, who sounds like a total sweetheart. Can't wait to meet her. 

Thank you so, so much for your warm comments on my last post. It felt good to be real with all of you and say that other part of the cause of my infertility. It sucks, and I'd like it to be not so, but it is my reality. Thanks for holding that with me. You all have amazing hearts. I am in awe.  

Preparing for tomorrow. The big 1-year anniversary since the failure of our infertility treatments, the day when the probability of having biological children became nil. It's been quite a year. I'll write more about it tomorrow. In the mean time, bonne nuit mes chères amies. Faites de beaux rêves.

Dr. Ninja and the Medicine Woman

I dedicate this post to Hossein Derakhshan (aka Hoder), an Iranian-born Canadian who has been held captive at the notorious Evin prison in Iran for committing the crime of blogging. Today, the 35-year-old received a sentence of 19 and a half years in prison, which meant he narrowly escaped a death sentence. If you want to read more about his story, click here or here. I am grateful to have the right to free speech and to be able to blog without the fear of being prosecuted.

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Today was my appointment with Dr. Ninja. I know that sounds like an insulting pseudonym, but it is not meant to be. Sattva's husband has heard of this doctor and likes to call him Dr. Ninja. And Sattva's husband makes me laugh. So using this pseudonym makes me laugh. And any reason to laugh is good enough for me. Enough. Done agonizing over pseudonyms. 

The appointment started off by going downhill at a rapid pace. Sort of like a beginner on skis, in a double-diamond slope, on icy conditions. He basically said that Dr. RE had put me at great risk of cancer by exposing me to the gonadotropin injections. He then said that egg donation was an outrageous idea, given that my uterus had never been stimulated (he used the word exercised) properly. That's when I said to myself: "deep breath, 'gusta"). It looked like this appointment was on the verge of blowing away the shred of hope I'd gathered in late summer.

Fortunately, the appointment did not continue to go downhill. Dr. Ninja gave away that he is a passionate man in the first 5 minutes of the appointment. He heard a few of the facts I shared and from there, stood up on his soap box and talked about the harm caused to women by the IF industry. He may have a point, but that's not why I was there. I'm just hoping to have a baby. So the impassioned doctor calmed down and let me continue with my explication. This permitted me to discover some of his other qualities such as his kindness and sensitivity.

To my immense (great is too feeble here) surprise, Dr. Ninja said he had treated a case exactly like mine in the past. I have never heard of a case like mine. Ever. Have you? Someone who never went through puberty, never had a period without medication, never ovulated. He tried to say there was a second case, but clearly, that second case was not exactly close. The woman had VERY irregular periods, but she still had them. But woman A was like me. He treated her and within 3 years she was pregnant. She went on to have a second child without his or anyone's (except her husband's) assistance. At the beginning of the appointment, he was going down that road. 3 years! Like I have that luxury. In 3 years I'll be 39 and pushing 40. So will Sattva. Woman A first consulted him when she was 32. Different scenarios altogether.

He listened to more of my history and focused on specific aspects. In an earlier post I wrote in August (Our Story), I referred to some HPA (hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis) issues that I also meant to discuss but didn't. I'm again not feeling like delving into those depths at this moment, but there is a part 2 to the 'Our Story' post, and it is soon to be written (yes, and that's what I say about my dissertation). The short of it is that there is a bunch of trauma in my early history and I've known for a while that this is the origin of my reproductive woes. Some doctors have suggested this may have been the cause, although they said so with utmost caution. Other doctors have questioned me on whether that was in fact "really traumatic" or not. Fortunately, I was already in my thirties when I met that particular doctor, so I just looked at him without averting my eyes and say that yes, it was really traumatic indeed.

Dr. Ninja focused right away on this issue of trauma and wanted to hear about whether I had resolved it. Frankly, I've done a ton of work towards "resolving" it, but this infertility nightmare has brought it back. I cried like I usually do when I talk about that awful time in my life, but told him that I wasn't crying for then, instead crying for the impact it has on me now. In the last 10 years, I felt that in most ways, I had formed an acceptable narrative about my history, but this narrative is required to accommodate the bit about me never getting pregnant and having my own children. I can inform you that this has not gone smoothly (like you don't know).

By the end, Dr. Ninja said that he is certain that the trauma is what caused my reproductive system to shut down. He said, like I've always believed, that the eating disorder is just a side issue. He said that he could help me get my body ready for egg donation. Yes! After hearing more about Dr. RE (I stood up for him, since I really do think he is good), about the process that lead to the decision of egg donation and about Sattva's offer, he seemed to, as we say in French, changer son fusils d'épaule (which means change his mind). He said he would look at the 2 cases mentioned above and review the treatment protocols followed with them, look at my information, and get back to me with a plan.

However, there is one recommendation he made right away. Dr. Ninja wants me to go consult an energy medicine woman. Woawzer! Therein lies an opportunity to keep an open mind, wouldn't you say? He feels like I have a big energetic blockage and wants me to go see this woman. She's good, according to him and she may help with unblocking the energy of my shut down reproductive system (I know what you're thinking, Bunny.) I think I will humor him and visit this woman. Once again, I don't have anything to lose at this point. It should be an interesting appointment, so I'll keep you posted.

Excuse me! Your life is waiting.

I went to a Ph.D. defense yesterday and it was very good. This woman presented her very interesting research and did it in a way that was accessible, thoughtful and organized. Sometimes the examiners asked her questions to which she did not know the answer (or at least the answer they were digging for), and she entertained the questions, but then genuinely said that she did not have more of an answer for them. And that was ok. There seemed to be no pressure for her to have figured out everything about everything. The defense had a beginning and an end. She was nervous but got through it well. And at the end of it, she became Dr. Awesome.

Which leads me to my point. I am next in line and I need to sail this ship home. My dissertation is almost finished (I'm writing up study 3 and then the general discussion, and I'm done). There is another colleague of mine defending on Oct. 15, but really after that, I'm next. My turn! And it feels long overdue. I spoke to Dr. Awesome on Tuesday, 2 days before her defense, and she said it still felt so far away. It feels very far away for me, but I am working with that mindset, because in all honesty, it isn't that far away.

The failure of the fertility treatments last October sucked my hard-earned confidence right out of me. I somehow maintained my same level of clinical competence at work, but otherwise, I was a basket case. The progress I was intending to make on my research suffered, which is why I am still here working away at it. The narrative has been that everything is lost. But it isn't. It isn't at all.

I managed to quit that not-so-great job in June, which was a good move. I've been working on the big D ever since. At first, it felt like I was working for something I couldn't believe in. So much distance had grown between me and my research that I didn't even recognize it. But over the last 3 months, we've grown tighter.

I am now standing at the doorstep, my hand on the knob. I'm really afraid of what all can go wrong. But my job is simple. Keep writing. Get it finished.

In the mean time, I've received a job offer from that place where I interviewed at the end of August. They wanted me to start in mid-October, so I told them they would have to pick someone else, sine I couldn't make that work (remember: Augusta's #1 mission = finish dissertation). They wouldn't take no for an answer and said I was their top pick. They agreed to have me start in December, so I accepted!

I'm excited. And I have a whole bunch of other feelings running through me. Mostly, I have this sense of gathering momentum to step up . My life is waiting for me. The new job, the egg donation, the end of my Ph.D. I'm trying to open the door and cross the threshold. But if I think too much about it, I get a bit shaky, like I can't grip the doorknob and turn it. I think the best approach is to go back to my writing and just think about the sentence in front of me. I'll leave the rest where it belongs: the near future.

Gratitude

I was very touched that Phoebe at Phoebe Gone Wild  gave me this Hope award. I'm am sheepish in admitting that I was behind on my blog comments and didn't discover it until I read her blog this evening, a full 5 days after she nominated me. Thank you very much Phoebe. That was so sweet. I send you lots of hope, and much gratitude.

I think I'm supposed to mention one thing I am happy for right now, and one thing I hope for in the future. There are many in both categories.

What makes me happy at the moment:
I have amazing friends IRL, as well as through this blog. These friendships bring so much richness to my life. I can't imagine how I would go on without my friends. So often, my friends believe in me when I have stopped believing; they remind me of who I am when I've forgotten; they celebrate my joys and cry along with my sorrow; they honour me by sharing of themselves in our friendship. I have been thinking of my friends a lot lately and feeling immensely grateful. As the one year anniversary of the failure of the treatments approaches, I am finding myself acutely aware of how a few key friends have held me up. I want to thank them and I will.

What I hope for in the future:
Well, that's an easy one. I would like the DE cycle to lead to a successful pregnancy. I would also be happy to have children through adoption, but I guess what's in front of me is the DE cycle. And I would like Sattva's gift to be honoured by the birth of a child. I know I don't have any control over that, but I just want all three of us to experience that immense joy.

I am heading to bed, chickadees, so I will sign off on this note. But not before I nominate three amazing women for this award. I would like to nominate more than three, but surely, this will come around to all the women blogger I would like to include.

1. Foxy at Foxy Popcorn
2. Lady Pumpkin at Planting a Pumpkin Patch
3. Adele at Delinquent Eggs

Much love and gratitude to the three of you, to Phoebe and to all of you who read and comment on my blog for your warm friendship. Thank you to all of you for this amazing community that we have here. I am in awe of it everyday. I still can't believe I am part of this great force of love in the midst of sorrow.

The infertility clinic waiting room

What a phenomenon that is, the ol' clinic waiting room. A funeral face is required and eye contact is strictly prohibited. If you must speak to your husband (and you may only speak to him if you absolutely have to), you must do it in hushed tones, gaze averted, and a hand over your mouth would really be best. No talking is allowed, otherwise. Enter Augusta, Mr. August and Sattva (from Bodhisattva, aka our donor), an unusual constellation for the fertility clinic waiting room. Oh wait! They're breaking all the rules. They are chatting lightly about New Zealand. They are laughing. They are looking directly at each other!!! Chaos ensues.

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I'm sorry that the update from Friday did not come sooner. The weekend was filled with social events, which tend to tucker me out. Each chance I got, I sat on the couch, drank warm fluids and read the Globe and Mail, before having to go back out into the world and socialize. But I've been thinking of all of you very much. I look forward to catching up on all your news. Here's the report from our appointment on Friday.

I continued to work myself up for the appointment, although that being said, I was managing my nerves pretty well with a great game plan my therapist and I devised. I once again found myself calling on all of you. I had remembered that the night before, thinking that you would be there with me and I could draw on that for strength. As soon as we reached the floor of the clinic in the hospital, it was like you were all waiting for me when the elevator doors opened. Thanks women!

We picked up Sattva at 6:30am and drove to IF-treatment-town for our 8:30 am appointment. Sattva had to do all this paper work when we got there, but we still managed to shake up the waiting room, as per my introduction. I was called first for my sonohysterogram. I didn't like it one bit. It hurt pretty intensely, although it subsided after a little bit, even while the saline was still in there. Dr. RE said that my uterus looked good, except for a curve at the top. He said that if I had a history of miscarriages he would want to do a hysteroscopy or laparoscopy to check things out further and possibly work on that curve. However, since I don't have such a history (and with no eggs, how could I?), he doesn't feel it is curved enough to warrant that kind of intervention. I'm inclined to concur with him on that one. We agreed that surgery was not the way to go, and that we would go with the higher probability that this curve will not impact negatively on a potential pregnancy.

The three of us were then invited to sit in an exam room and wait for the doc. Sattva immediately commented on the waiting room experience. In a way, it was nice to share this whole fertility clinic scene with a good friend. She now knows what it feels like to be there without my need to describe it for her. It was also at that moment in the exam room that this all became very real. I just took in the fact that all three of us were sitting there and working towards the egg donation. The doctor came in with a student and thanked Sattva for being here. He went through her history and her family's history, and then reviewed Mr. August's family history. He gave her requisitions for blood work, some to completed that day, and another one for cycle day 3. And then she was brought in for an ultrasound and we went back to the waiting room, where we continued to break the rules by talking and looking at each other.

She came out and we left, heading downtown IF-treatment-town for her blood work. On the way down, she said that her ovaries were full of follicles and that Dr. RE thought that was very good. That was very good news to absorb. Plenty of follicles. Wow!

I am still so awed that she wants to do go through this egg donation process and wants us to use her eggs to bring a child into the world. I cannot find the right words to describe my gratitude. We gave her a little card and a bottle of wine from our trip last weekend as a token of our thanks. But really, how can we thank her? I feel so grateful to her for even just considering the egg donation, let alone starting the process.

I have more to write, but my dissertation awaits. Thanks for reading and for being here with me.

 

chewing my nails

Hey, my nails are free of wheat, dairy and kidney beans. So I can chew on them, rest assured.

Ok, our appointment is Friday and I am nervous. If you haven't noticed yet, I'm an anxious little owl, and I am experiencing the prospect of our appointment on Friday as an 8 or 9 on the anxiety scale. Just to remind you: It is the appointment in which Mr. August, our lovely donor and I pile into the car and go visit the good doctor to talk about her eggs, with his sperm, in my womb.

I did not have a very good sleep last night. Mr. August was up with a sore throat, and each time I woke up, I found myself in that intensely irrational 4 o'clock in the morning place where fears are all of a sudden de facto realities. Can you see where I'm going? Yes, at 4 in the morning, I decided that our donor had backed out. I carried on thinking that all day, if you can imagine. I was making plans for calling the clinic to tell them to cancel the appointment (and the sonohysterogram. pity). I practiced what I would say to her so that she could feel ok with having to tell us this news. Like a strong and wild dog with me at the end of its leash, I let my fears spin me around the park a few times.

I wrote to our donor to make arrangements for Friday and even asked in my email "are you still up for this?" Which was met with "Of course, I'm still up for this!"

Yes, I must grab hold of myself and walk forward. Of course there will be fear, anxiety, worry, but who knows, I may get to excitement, anticipation, and effervescence even? I guess I won't know if I don't keep going.

Bearing fruit

A few little pictures from our trip to Niagara on the Lake. The first two pictures are about fruit. Plants bearing fruit. Huh, I know the metaphor is facile, but nonetheless, it expresses my deep, deep wishes for all of us. MAY WE BEAR FRUIT. And may the harvest come soon.

The grapes and pears were taken at Frogpond Farm, one of the few organic wineries. We enjoyed meeting their sheep, chickens, and one very excited puppy. We bought a bunch of wine from them, since Mr. August is part and supporter of the organic movement.

One of the sheep had jumped the fence (which had been left off) and Mr. August put her back in her enclosure with her sisters. They were sweet creatures, those ewes. A bit skittish, but their eyes and smiles looked so sincere. We were fast friends.


We missed our chicken while we were away (chicken is how we call our cat). But the B&B had live chickens roaming around. Mr. August even picked one up to pet her.

Finally, here is a little photo documentation of my dairy free, wheat free find at a local coffee shop, called Balzac. Soy latte and vegan cookie. YUM!

We had a great time this weekend and returning to reality this morning was a little hard. My dissertation had not progressed in my absence, alas. The time away was very rejuvenating. I think my favourite was biking around on Saturday, with the sun shining over us, the wind on our cheeks, and the beautiful Niagara river flowing to our left and several meters under us. It was glorious!