{Infertile Me} She was lost; and Now I’m found

It’s been a stressful past few weeks. I found myself in a place I never thought I would be in. I’ve called more fertility clinics than I’d care to admit. All of the clinics in MN will not take our embryo. Between you and me; I feel like Dr. B put the word out that I am a terrible patient. Several of the clinics said it’s a liability after they found out who I was. After the last clinic said no I felt defeated. I was ready to throw in the towel and face a childless life head on.

Yet something in me was tugging away. Something in me told me to pick up the pieces and continue the fight. Geneva is a name that I carry. I carry my Great Grandmother’s name as my middle name. Now she was a warrior. Geneva’s children were taken from her during the relocation and assimilation period. That woman, that strong woman never gave up on finding her children. Even when authorities told her that they had died in transport, she never gave up hope. Geneva picked up the pieces of her shattered life and never stopped searching for the missing pieces. Geneva lived his life knowing that pieces of her were scattered and she rode the wind until they were found.

Geneva was reunited with my Grandfather Clifford. Life came full circle. June was found too, along with her other son. This woman, this patient woman was finally whole. I thought to myself “Geneva didn’t get you this far for you to give up. She fought like hell for her children and her battle paid off; she died whole.”

I need to honor this woman’s legacy of determination and grit. Knowing she walked this road before me and that I would not be walking this road alone I turned to Wisconsin. Wisconsin is in my blood and is my second home. My mom, she is from Wisconsin and Geneva is buried outside of Hayward in a sleepy little cemetery. My roots run deep in Wisconsin, so it’s the perfect place to bring our embryo. I called a couple clinics in Wisconsin and they will take Embryo #3! I got ghosted by one doctor in Johnson Creek, which is ok. My gut is leading us to Green Bay. With a little luck and a lot of faith Green Bay will be where Embryo #3 is transferred back to me. Our little embryo, this little fighter of ours will be made in Wisconsin and with a little luck born in Minnesota.

Call me crazy but, I deeply believe that Geneva is leading the way that somehow someway she is going to make this work for us. She’s been in this fight, she brought me this far and now it’s up to me to bring it home. Her blood, her fight runs through me and I know IVF got this.

{Infertile Me} Embryo #3

My road at CCRM Minneapolis had not been easy and it has come to an end. In November 2017 I had asked the clinic if I could use generic medications and they said no. I pushed and they still said no. They tried scare tactics and would always fucking say “brand medications lead to successful outcomes.” If I ever hear those words again I will run down Nicollet Mall in my underwear. Those words give one false hope. False hope of “if I use brand name meds my transfer will for surely work.” So many women just give up and go along with what the clinic wants because “they have my embryos and it’s their policy.” A policy that they will not show you because it is “internal.”

I asked to see it once and in return I was told “we find it very bold and offensive that you are questioning our doctors expertise.” Yup they said that to me and I have the email to prove it. I was told “if you don’t use brand you cannot transfer your embryos.” I gave in and went ahead with the brand name meds. We paid a crazy amount for them and we were set for a December transfer. Transfer day came, I was excited, I was so full of hope and I could not wait to bring the embryos home. The transfer did not go as planned. Dr. B ignored the referring doctors notes in regards to my complicated anatomy. At one point she thought she was in, I thank God that the embryos got stuck in the tube, otherwise they most likely would have been deposited in my cervix. At that point she should have called it a day, but instead she kept on going because “I’ve never met a uterus I couldn’t get in to.” An hour went by and I was wincing in pain, everyone saw that but her. Finally she decided to give up and I was scheduled for dilation surgery and our embryos were re-frozen.

At that point I lost all trust in the process and in her as a doctor. I tried to move to a different clinic but ran into issues. Due to CCRM’s unique freezing process other clinics will not take the embryos and CCRM Minneapolis is the only clinic in the twin cities that will take insurance. I was stuck without options and they had my embryos. So we bought more brand name drugs and continued on the path to a January transfer. If the transfer worked I could walk away from that clinic and never look back. On the day I graduated from the clinic I cried in the parking lot, I felt so relieved that I’d never have to see Dr. B again. I was pregnant and I’d never have to step foot back in there again.

Two weeks later we found out that our baby’s heart stopped. Our son Emmett made it 10weeks and 3 days. At first I could not entertain transferring Embryo #3. The thought of having to go back to that clinic made me sick to my stomach. I knew it would be more of the same bullshit, brand medications and no exceptions. Essentially their way or the highway. I’d have to face arrogant Dr. B again. Knowing no other clinic would take my embryo or insurance I sucked it up and forged ahead.

I asked the clinic again if I could use generic medications as I had reactions to some of the brands. I was again told no and they would give me something for the infection or rash. I explained again to them that generics are covered at 100% under my plan and it would be less of a financial burden. Again I was told no and “brand medications lead to successful outcomes…..” which to me is bullshit because Emmett died, brand name medications did not impact the outcome.

On the support group page I asked if women were getting generics at CCRM Minneapolis and a lot of women said “yes!” I expanded my pole and found out that all of the other CCRM locations allowed generics. The brand only policy is specific to Minneapolis. This made me angry and I wasn’t making headway with the clinic or corporate office, so I did what any woman would do, I stood up for myself. I reached out to the MN Attorney General’s office for help. On 8/15/18 Dr. B approved my prescriptions and the order was sent to the mail order pharmacy. On 8/16/18 all of the scripts had been canceled by the physician. That morning I got an email and a voice mail advising me that Dr. B wanted to meet in person on Monday instead of our scheduled phone call. On 8/17/18 we met with Dr. B and in less than 10 minutes my care was terminated. Dr. B terminated my care at her clinic because I filed a complaint.

In away I am relieved because now I do not have to deal with her arrogance. She is not God and she does not listen to her patients. Dr. B is the kind of physician that automatically expects trust and respect from her patients. I’m sorry but a doctor has to earn a patients trust and respect. Just because you are a doctor doesn’t mean you will automatically be trusted by your patients, let alone respected. She never earned our trust nor did she earn my respect. A good doctor understands their patients and realizes that at the end of the day each patient is different and that they cannot be shoved into boxes. I am not your typical patient, I come with baggage, scars, and PTSD due to past medical trauma and stuffing me in a box didn’t work for her. To be honest I don’t think Dr. B was prepared to handle a patient like me and she never will be. I learned the hard way that I need to advocate for myself every step of the way and I am not going to blindly follow a doctor because she says so. She is used to women drinking her koolaide and doing as they are told so that they too can have a successful outcome.

I’ve never been a fan of koolaide and I do not regret standing up for myself. I know my complaint will not change her outlook or the way she practices medicine. She is to arrogant to realize that something has to give and that her patients should have access to the low cost generics. Lord knows they pay enough to be there.

For me right now the only thing we can do is move forward. Embryo #3 will be moved to a cryobank and our journey to parenthood is at a standstill. I have to believe that somehow someway something good will come out of this. It may not benefit me, but it will benefit someone else. I do not regret what I did. At the end of the day I did what I had to do and it brings me comfort knowing that I ruffled her fucking feathers. And one thing I do know is this “she will always remember me, the girl who questioned her every step of the way.”

{Emmett} Walk Boldly with Answers

Over the past couple of months I have been checking the boxes in preparation for our upcoming transfer. I saw the hematologist, she was very informative and shared that Lovenox does in deed cross the placenta. That information was both a blessing and a curse. A curse because it could mean that Emmett’s demise was due to Lovenox. We will of course never know for sure why Emmett died, everything is in theory.

On Tuesday I met with a new perinatologist and the first question she asked me was “why were you on 80 units a day?” I honestly didn’t know. I did what the previous doctor told me to do. Although I did question the 80 units, again I was told because of my history 80 was the dose I needed. Turns out AJ doesn’t need 80 units…….she only needs 40. 40 fucking units is all I need. 80 units was to high for someone with my history and my weight. An 80 unit dose is for someone who has a clotting disorder or a BMI of 50.

Two weeks before Emmett’s heart stopped I increased the dose to 80 units. Emmett most likely bled to death, his little body couldn’t handle the Lovenox. Only Emmett knows how he died. I only know that he was genetically perfect and there is no reason for his leaving. In this moment I wish I had fought harder to change the dose. Then again I went along with what the doctor said to do and in the end it didn’t save Emmett nor did it help me.

Am I angry!? Of course I am angry. I am angry that no one would listen to me. That the doctor didn’t take a moment to really look into my history to see what and why my blood clot happened. I am angry that she shoved me into a box and pounded me until I fit the mold. In my gut I knew 80 units was to high. I should have just nodded my head and continued on with 40 instead of 80 units. If I did, maybe Emmett would still be here and I’d be seven months pregnant. I cannot go backwards, I cannot weigh the what if’s, I can only go forward, forward with a broken heart.

My heart she is broken. Yet she is relieved that someone with MD behind their name finally listened to her. We have a plan, a very good plan and with a little luck we will bring a baby home. The new Lovenox dose is 40 units a day with no increase along with a side of prednisone, baby aspirin, and anti-biotics. With a little luck this protocol will be our ticket to a take home baby.

Emmett taught me to continue to advocate for myself and to fight for what my gut knows. Just because a doctor is a doctor doesn’t mean they know everything. I am a walking talking example of “fuck, we messed up her care!” I of all people know what it’s like to be discounted and unheard. I know what it’s like to hear the words “um Im sorry but your pulmonary embolism and stroke didn’t need to happen.” I know what it’s like to be misdiagnosed and have forged a path in the aftermath. And I will not be silent, I will walk boldly with answers and I am not going to dwell on what might have been, I can only carry hope for what could be.

{Infertile Me} With shattered HOPE

Some days I wish I could go back to September 2017 and tell myself not to cling to hope. To tell myself that this journey is going to suck beyond belief. That you will put all of this work in to end up with empty arms, just like you did before. You my dear girl, your heart will be broken again.

Yet I can’t. Because 2017 me was so full of hope and faith. Her heart though broken still beat with courage and strength. She believed deeply in the process and had her eyes set on the prize. For her sanity she broken it down into pieces, first eggs, then embryos, then transfer, and finally a baby. The first two parts were easy for her to digest. 15 eggs brought her 3 quality embryos. Those embryos meant the world to her and she was certain she would transfer two and she did. Those two ended with one baby. One baby whose heart beat stronger every day until there was silence. Her world just like before crashed around her with the words “there is no heart beat.” At that moment she was done trying. Her heart couldn’t take anymore. She had given three babies back to God.

Little by Little and day by day she grew stronger and her heart started to look to Embryo #3. She knew if she didn’t go for it, she would always wonder “what could have been.” With withered strength and threadbare hope, she decided to move forward.

Forward with shattered hope. In March I was certain that I could not bare going through a transfer again, yet I am stronger than I think. Yesterday I put the ball in motion. The clinic was so glad to hear from me (I’m sure they say that to everyone). Dr. B has formulated a plan, we are not messing around this time. Workup in July, dilation surgery in August, and with a little luck a transfer in September.

September, Emmet was due in September. I just pray it doesn’t end up being on the 23rd, Emmet’s due date. Then again maybe September will be our lucky month and this one I will get to keep.

{Infertile Me} Take a seat, let’s get real

I know what you are wondering “did snow pea’s results come back?” Umm nope, the wait still continues. Right now the lab is taking 3 to 6 weeks to complete the testing and provide the results. Trust me I ask the doctor at least once a week if he’s heard anything and it’s been a big fat nope. So we wait.

I am really good at waiting and waiting some more. During this wait, I’ve decided to leave no stone unturned and to go into our final transfer with as much knowledge as humanly possible. I will be meeting with a hematologist in early May to discuss my old friend Lovenox. I personally don’t think I need it, but people with medical degrees feel that I do. I am in an odd spot, I don’t fit in a box, and the doctor just shoved me in one with a Lovenox prescription. The dose is a major question and issue. Just like with Lucia, snow pea’s heart stopped a week after I increased the dose. The manufacture says Lovenox is safe for pregnant women and that it doesn’t cross the placenta. But let’s be real, anything a woman consumes can possibly cross that magical thing called a placenta. I also know one shouldn’t leak like a sieve after injecting themselves or have the injection sites randomly bleed through out the day. White shirts and I were no longer on speaking terms, hello darkness my old friend. I don’t want to be shoved in a box, I want a protocol that is tailored to me and my weird ass body. Why? Because I have no clotting factors, my blood clot was a total fluke, I drew the short straw and my life hasn’t been the same.

IVF is much the same as Lovenox protocols. It’s a one size fits all approach and if you don’t fit, they will make you fit. Very few reproductive endocrinologists are willing to reinvent the wheel. They prescribe the same protocols over and over again. I have no complaints here, we got 3 embryos from our protocol and we did get pregnant. It’s just Snow Pea’s heart stopped without notice or known reason. It just stopped and I have yet to carry a baby to term. At the moment we are tossing around first trimester bed rest, reduced Lovenox dose, and an antihistamine protocol to keep my inflammation down. Will it work? Who knows. I’ve got one last shot at a bio child and I am not willing to blow it on junk science and voodoo.

Speaking of fit, if I fit, I sits. Dexter the cat taught me that and right now this mama doesn’t fit in any boxes…. This mama has fallen off of the healthy wagon and needs to chase that fucking thing down and jump back on. A few years ago I had success on weight watchers. I had lost about 20 pounds before I found out I was pregnant with baby E and then shit just went down hill from there. Losing babies is hard and cupcakes and carbs were my friends. We got along a little to well and mama’s waistline expanded a little to much. This morning I put in my card info and signed my ass back up. I am officially on the wagon and I am not getting off until I am pregnant again.

I am starting this journey at 241 pounds (yup I just wrote that number out loud). This is the biggest I have ever been. I’m not happy, I feel sluggish and I wish I could blame my now juicy ass (juicy as in plump, not, get your head out of the gutter) on the IVF meds. But I can’t, because this mama loves cupcakes, cookies, fancy coffee, carbs, yes give me all the carbs and I despise vegetables and anything that screams “I’m HEALTHY!” This has got to change because I want my body back. I am not aiming to be thin, I just want to be me, a healthy me. If I can get to 200 by the time transfer day arrives, awesome, if I’m still pushing 230 to 220 that’s cool too, because at least I know I’m working darn hard to get there.

{Infertile Me} Genetically Normal Parents

As I walked through the skyway my phone rang. It was a number I have seen hundred of time and I instantly answered with worried hope. It was Park Nicollet, the genetic counselor was calling me to go over my test results. She informed me in a cheery voice that I was genetically normal, I have no deletions or translocations, my chromosomes are perfect. She went on to say that Jay was perfectly normal too and that our risk for an abnormal embryo is .00004%. Which means Jay and I are capable of creating normal embryos and I should be carrying a baby to term. Which is maddening because our baby died. We put two embryos in and only got one very wanted baby.

Relief is not what I feel. I am still holding my breath snow pea’s tests are still in process and right now her story is the only story that matters. I just know she’s gone and we do not have a why or a how to put behind it. Then again I’ve been tortured for eight years knowing that there was no reason for her big brother’s leaving. Lucia was genetically normal, his little heart just stopped and there was no reason for it, it just stopped. Baby E was an easier pill to swallow, poor baby had 69 chromosomes, that baby, our baby had a reason for leaving because one cannot live with 3 sets of chromosomes.

Three. Embryo #3 is safety tucked away in a cryo tank waiting for the day that their mother becomes strong enough to transfer it home. Today my mind isn’t there, I cannot fathom going through another transfer. Tomorrow I will change my mind and cling to the hope of what could be. Flip flopping is what I have been doing. The genetic counselor said that there is a high chance that Embryo #3 will most likely result in a normal pregnancy. It will be easier to make a decision of what to do with #3 when we get Snow Pea’s results. In a way I pray that something was wrong so that I can have a why and a how. It’s maddening, it is a blessing and a curse when they tell you “your child is normal and well we don’t know why he died.”

After Lucia died I honored him by having four small paw prints tattooed on my right foot. I knew in my heart that Snow Pea deserved to be a part of her mama to. So I searched the web until I found the perfect imagine of Snow Pea blossoms. Snow Pea is forever etched in my soul and on my skin, she will always be with us. When I look down it brings a smile to my heart, knowing that her memory is with me where ever I go. My baby she will always be.

{Infertile Me} I will always choose you

Right now this loss doesn’t make sense. Going into this I knew I could walk away with empty arms. I pushed that risk down to the bottom and filled my heart with hope. Jay and I had won the battle, with a positive test in hand we beat infertility. My prayers had been answered and God spared us a miracle that cannot be replaced. Everything I went through no longer mattered when I saw the heart flicker. Week by week I got to see our beautiful baby grow on the ultrasound screen. Little ears, a tiny nose, and hands, were all there clear as day. The baby’s heart was strong and everything looked great. I was graduated from the fertility clinic to our Perinatal And OB doctors. We were having a baby and not just any baby, but a super fancy science baby.

At 10 weeks 3 days a quick peak ultrasound at the perinatal clinic told me that my baby was no longer alive. The baby’s heart went from 182 beats per minute to utter silence. This is the part of pregnancy that I hate. We have no idea what is going on inside our bodies. We have no idea of knowing whether or not our babies are thriving or gone. I woke up that morning happily pregnant, talking to my baby, and planning the nursery furniture, only to have the rug ripped out from under me. And I am so fucking tired of having that rug ripped out from under me.

Part of me was cautious, yet once I saw the flicker I was all in. This was our baby, our turn, our rainbow and I was filled with joy. I thought since I had paid my dues by giving my first born and 2nd baby back to God, he would for sure let us keep this one. Because come on God isn’t cruel. Right now I can tell you I am angry and hurt. Three pieces of my heart rest in heaven and that isn’t fair. This life is not fair. I will never understand why some babies get to live while others are called home.

If my babies had a choice, they would choose life and I would choose them over and over again. The pain of loosing a baby never goes away, you just learn how to live with it. My third loss isn’t easy, it hurts and it’s not fair. Yet it is our loss, our journey to walk and our cross to bare. Jay and I are working through it and together we are mourning our snow pea’s leaving. Snow Pea did not have a choice in this, if she did I am confident she would have chose us, just as we chose her.

{Infertile Me} Almost Home

I was this (AJ shows you her fingers almost touching) close to motherhood on Monday. Like so close I could imagine meeting my take home baby in 40 weeks close. Monday wasn’t meant to be our day. Don’t worry our little embryos are nestled back into the freezer and we will see them again soon. Just getting them back to me was harder than the Doctor thought.

You see when AJ was made a joke was played on her, she has a very complicated anatomy. I will spare you the details. Coupled with a botched D&C that left her cervix looking like a war zone filled with scar tissue, false passages, and hope. Those two things make it impossible, like they tried for an hour to get through said cervix impossible. Again I am going to spare you the details, just know it was pretty darn painful and stressful.

So where do we go from here? To surgery of course. Surgery to hopefully open said pain in the ass cervix and for the doctor to literally draw themselves a map so they know how to get in. Is it a guarantee? Nope, nope it’s not. But right no it’s all we’ve got. If it cannot be surgically opened and mapped our last resort is a gestational carrier, in which we don’t have Kardashian money so that is out of the question. The doctors are hopeful that they will be able to get into the cervix.

Now I know you are wondering “WTF AJ why didn’t they figure this shit out before hand?!” Like I get you and yes that was my question too. Truth is they ignored me because a lot of women say “I have complicated anatomy” and “10 times out of 10 we get in. You are actually my first.” And mistakes were made too. Communications fell on deaf ears and the nurses didn’t follow through nor did the doctor follow up. I’m sure if they could go back they would do it differently. But we can’t do that, we can only go forward with what we know now.

A plan is in place and they are going to do everything in their power to ensure that our embryos are transferred back to me. Am I angry? Yes of course I am, but I cannot let the anger take over. Am I stressed? Yes, yes I am, but once we get going on the plan it will fade. Has my PTSD bubbled to the surface? Why yes, yes it has and thankfully with the help of my therapist we will get through it. Dealing with medical trauma is no joke. I am going forward with an open mind and hope in my heart. Our turn may be delayed but it is still on the horizon and for that I am grateful.

{Infertile Me} October – Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month

I have mixed emotions this October. My heart she is filled with hope, but my soul she aches for the two babies she didn’t get to keep. I also ache for those mamas who heard the words “I’m sorry but you can’t get pregnant again.” I’ve heard those words, those words didn’t sink in until I exhausted all of the experts. Each one said no and each one said a natural pregnancy was a slim chance. Baby E was my slim chance, God he had other plans, and my baby went to heaven to be with his brother. Baby E had to many chromosomes and wasn’t meant to be ours, yet my baby you will always be.

Lucia, my sweet Lucia was my silver lining to a very dark storm. He was a surprise, April Fools day 2010 I found out he was on board and I loved him from the first scan. However the love that I had for my son could not bring him back from Heaven’s grasp, so I said goodbye and mourn his absence. Lucia should be in First grade this year, maybe he’d be playing peewee football or take up the cello like his mama. My heart was cheated and it forever aches for all the moments that could have been. My son he will always be.

Lucia & Baby E will always be a part of me, because two pieces of my heart rest in heaven. #OperationTakeahome baby is not and never will be a replacement for my children. He or she will grow up knowing that two babies came before them and that mama fought like hell to get pregnant so that they could be here. Part of me realizes that if both my babies had survived I would not be going through IVF. This journey, we never know where it will take us. Because my babies died, because my body never reset itself, I am going through IVF.

All of the loss and heartache I have endured have lead me to this moment. I am grateful, because in the loss I found beauty, in heartache I found strength, and now I have hope that our take home baby is just around the corner.

I am STILL a mother, I am an IVF warrior. My heart she may be broken but she is ready.

{Infertile Me} Operation Take Home Baby

I spent Tuesday working from home and anxiously awaiting the FedEx truck. I poked my head out the door at the sound of a truck, no truck was to be seen. Waiting was harder than I thought. This just wasn’t a regular package, this package had been carefully packed and contained a little over $10,000.00 in medication and supplies. That package was our ticket to a take home baby.

Somewhere between staring at spreadsheets and listening for trucks I noticed Cullen scratching at the door. Finally FedEx had arrived. The sweet delivery woman threw Cullen a treat and asked “where’s your kitchen honey, this needs to be refrigerated.” I showed her to the kitchen and signed for the packages. Overwhelmed is how I felt when I looked at my medicine filled counter. It all sank in that I was going to go through with IVF and that this was my one and only chance for a baby.

Somewhere between the needles and vials lies a seed of hope, hope that I to will get to be a mom. IVF is not for the faint of heart, it’s a journey for the strongest of the strong. It’s scary as fuck. You can put in all of the time, effort and money and still walk away without a baby. It’s literally a crap shoot. It’s left up to God and Science. I start priming at the end of August and with a lot of faith and a little luck the egg retrieval will be in September. If we get viable embryos they will be frozen and in November we will transfer our little thawed embryo that could back to me.

Hope and faith become your fuel, you my dear become unstoppable. Right now I cannot comprehend this process in its entirety, if I did I’d talk myself out of it. All I can comprehend right now is eggs. Once eggs are extracted I can allow myself to think about embryos. Once our embryos are safely frozen I can start to think about transfer. After transfer I can start to think about pregnancy. I struggle with the pregnancy piece, it scares the shit out of me and makes me anxious.

I’ve been pregnant twice before which ended in losses. My babies rest in the heavenly skies and paint the colors of the sunrise. My heart cannot take another “I’m sorry there isn’t a heart beat” or “I’m sorry there is not fetal pole.” Those words cut through you like a knife, you cannot think, you just freeze and the tears begin to fall. Your worst nightmare becomes your reality and there is no backing away from it. A piece of your heart lies in heaven and you must walk this earth without them.

My heart she is wise and she knows that we can only do this once. I pray that my third time and Jay’s second does not lead to heartache. I desperately long for the day where I can feel the weight of our take home baby in my arms. That day, my turn is coming. We are all in and there is no looking back! Because the rainbow we’ve been chasing is finally in our grasp.