There's Always Hope

I barely got through my conference call without crying. I called David afterward and told him I took a test without him and I was sorry that I did that but the voice told me to and it was negative like we thought (all in one breath). He was sorry and sad. He tried to be encouraging, but it wasn’t really the time. “Well, we’ll try again next month. But it does suck.”

Since his parents were already with him, he went ahead and told them. That meant the entire family would know by the end of the hour, so I decided that meant I should tell my family too.

I sent a quick email to those I knew would be waiting to hear from me. Quick like a bandaid. It was short and to the point. I worked the rest of the day, and ate a lot of chips. And bread. And chocolate. And a beer. And I might have soaked a green olive in some vodka before eating it.

David and I talked for a while that night. He noted that this could be a much longer process than we anticipated and that we should just be ready for that. We talked about the possibility of adoption and whether or not we ever wanted to do in-vitro fertilization (where they take the egg out, fertilize it in a dish, and then put it back in). We agreed that eventually, we would somehow have a child. It’s hard thinking about adopting a baby and never being able to have your own, but the “baby” part was so much more important than the “own” part. Besides, every baby show on TV tells stories of women who tried for 3, 4, even 10 years before conceiving. There’s always hope.

The next morning, I begrudgingly went to my blood test. I tried to sing along to the radio on the drive while envisioning having to make this very drive hundreds more times than I wanted.

When they called my name, I walked towards to the “blood station” and the nurse asked, “Sooo…what do we think?” I told her I cheated and took a test. Negative. “Well, those tests are wrong all the time. You never know!” I told her it looked like my period was about to start and that last month we took a test on the same day and it was right. She sort of frowned. I hate it when nurses frown. It makes me feel very uneasy.

David wasn’t there with me this time to put on a puppet show with the squeezy sperm and bull, so the needle really hurt. The nurse told me to go talk to “Scheduling” and come in for a consult. She said sometimes it feels good to go back to the drawing board and come up with a new plan. I couldn’t imagine how many plans there could be. I mean, sperm, egg. How many combinations are there? Maybe they know something I don’t know.

I told the gal at the front desk I wanted to talk to Dr. New York about our next steps. She said that sounded like a great idea and offered me an appointment in 2 days. I got a cute little appointment card and waved a sad goodbye. 

I went back to work at home. Loads of emails and lots of I needs. I wanted to respond to many of them by saying, “Hello? I just found out that my third fertility cycle was a failure and I may never become a mom. YES, YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR PROJECT MANAGEMENT. It’s the LEAST you can do.”

I forgot that I get a phone call in the afternoon to confirm the results, so when the phone rang and I saw “Jex Fert” on the caller ID, my heart got sad again. I picked up.

“Erin?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, sweetie, it’s Sally. How are ya?” She said it in a sad, your-dreams-just-died-so-I-already-know-how-you-are kinda way.

“Oh, I’m ok, Sally. It’s ok.”

“Yeah. I know. Well, I went ahead and cancelled your consult appointment.”

“Oh ok. Wait, why?”

“Because you don’t need it.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re pregnant.”

Avoidance

First of all, guys, I had a number of people in the past 2 weeks tell me I should include advertisements in my blog. I'm not writing this to make money, but a little extra cash never hurts when you're giving a reproductive endocrinologist your entire paycheck every month. :) Please let me know if the ads are annoying, distracting, or any other thoughts you have! Now on with the show...

The morning before our blood test, David kept delicately reminding me to take a pregnancy test. “You know, if you want to take one before the blood test, now would be the best time.” I knew he was right, but the anxiety I felt rivaled what Monk feels when faced with a communal pencil. I was absolutely paralyzed with fear. The pain I felt with the last negative was so great and lasted so long, I didn’t think I could do it again. Of course, this is silly because I would inevitably have to experience another test result. The truth was, I was pretty sure I wasn’t pregnant. Even with the last cycle, I felt all kinds of shifting and feelings and sparklies in my tummy. This time I felt NOTHING. No sparklies, no nausea, no exhaustion. Nothing.

By the time David left for work, he made one last ditch effort to get me to take a test. “We have one in there and we can just do it and get it over with and then get on with the day. Maybe it’s positive?”

I am so grateful to have a husband who knows that when I look at him and pull one side of my mouth in and to the side, it’s time to stop pushing and let me be. He gave me a kiss and went to work.

When I went to take a shower, the test was sitting on the bathroom counter. “Hey Erin. I know I might not give you the answer you want, but I promise I’ll give you a really nice delivery. Maybe just, ‘You guys tried really hard and it will definitely pay off eventually. This just wasn’t the right time.’ Or maybe, ‘You know, you slept until 7:30 this morning and you won’t be able to do that when you have a baby. Why don’t you get one more month of good rest before we try this again?’” I stood in the bathroom for about 15 minutes, trying to decide if I should take the test. Still couldn’t do it. It was better not knowing the truth.

At about 11:30 my best friend called me and asked me if I’d taken a test. “No, I haven’t. I’m not ready. I can’t deal with another negative.” We chatted about it for a while and the conclusion was, “Take the damn test, Erin.” I decided to eat lunch instead.

I was working diligently at about 1:30. I had 2 more phone calls and an inbox full of  “I need”s and “Can you?”s. I was plugging away at my to-do list like Erin Brokowich on crack. Saving the world, one email at a time. It felt good to be so needed and have so many people relying on me. For the first time that day, I felt like I was on a roll. I was in a good place. And 20 minutes before I was supposed to hop onto another call, something said, “Go take the test. Do it right now and get it over with.” I don’t know who said it, but I’m sure my husband would like to know. He would call that voice all the time and be like, “Can you PLEASE ask my wife to close the cabinets that are level with MY HEAD when she’s finished putting away the dishes?”

I literally ran into the bathroom. This was a fancy-pants test. I had to pee in a cup, use a dropper to get 4 drops, then drop them into the round space on the test stick. I peed (carefully) into the cup and set it on the counter. Remember that scene in the Fifth Element when Bruce Willis has to light the last match in his book to open up the Fire Element Stone, therefore activating LeeLou’s Love Element and saving the world from the meteor? That’s exactly how I dropped the pee onto the stick. So carefully, so slowly, my eyes closer to pee than they’ve ever been. It called for four drops, I will give it EXACTLY four drops in a perfect, 2-second-delay-between-each-drop kinda way. 

When I was done, I walked into the bedroom, sat on the bed, and breathed deeply. The dogs came in and sat down, staring at me breathing. Bella asked, “What is she doing?” 

Charlie said, “I don’t know, but sometimes she does weird stuff like this. She’ll come out of it.” 

Bella asked, “Should we lick her?” 

And Charlie said, “You can. I’m just going to smell her feet.”

I looked at the clock and it had been a minute. I think I was supposed to wait 2. Or shit, was it 3? Now I don’t remember and the box is in the bathroom and I can’t look at the box without looking at the test. I guess I’d better wait for at least 2. Or just go look now, I’ll just go look now, I’m going.

I ran into the bathroom and looked down at the test. There was nothing in the square indicator box. Maybe nothing means pregnant, I thought. I grabbed the box. I looked at the two examples on the front. Nope. Empty box clearly means not pregnant. And 2 minutes was the wait time, and it had definitely been two minutes by now. Not pregnant.

I walked into the kitchen and cried. It didn’t feel good so I tried the living room. No better. I cried in every room until I was back in the bathroom, just in case it was tricking me and now read positive. Nothing. Empty indicator box. Not pregnant.

And now I have a conference call in 15 minutes. Awesome. 

Still Got It

Starbucks Guy: What can I get for you?

Me: Hi. I'll have a fruit juice and a bran muffin.

Starbucks Guy: Going anywhere special for the weekend?

Me: Me? No. Just passing through.

Starbucks Guy: Oh. Where's home?

Me: No, I mean, this is home. Just passing through Starbucks.

Starbucks Guy: Got it. Meeting your boyfriend here?

Me: No. No, I'm married.

Starbucks Guy: Oh, sorry, didn't see the ring. Everyone always tell me they're meeting their boyfriends here and I'm always like damn, so you're my first that's not meeting a boyfriend today.

Me: Wow!

Starbucks Guy: Yeah...and you're married. Have a good day.

Me: You too!

I'm not sure if that technically counts as getting hit on, but I'll take it.

State of our Union

(The President is delivering his State of the Union Address. We've been watching for 20 minutes or so.)

David: They clap but it doesn't even look like they're listening.

Erin: Like the way you're listening while playing "Bejeweled" on Facebook?

David: I'm listening! Listening and playing! Wait, are we missing Modern Family?

Erin: Yeah.

David: Switch it.

Erin: Deal.

Two-Week Notice

We did the whole routine again. Coming in, visiting the boys' side, visiting the girls' side, and hanging out with lots of little statues. If I get pregnant, it will be fun to say that was the order of operations.

I completely let go of any hopes, fears, wishes, etc. this time. I decided not to count days and close my calendar. I'm making plans to visit my mom and eat dinner with family. I (shh!) vowed to have a little wine. And David agreed. If we get pregnant this time, great. And if we don't then we will gear up and try again.

This post is short on purpose. No dwelling. I'm off to live life for 2 weeks and if anything funny happens in the in between time, I'll be sure to tell you.

Thanks, as always, for the support, prayers, and love.

O Ye of Many Faiths

"Erin?"
The Perkiest Nurse of them All popped her head into the lobby. I stood up and smiled.
"Ready, girl? This is it!"
David and I walked back to the "Girl Side" of the office. The Perkiest Nurse of them All led us to "New York." She giggled and said, "If you get pregnant, your baby will be a New Yorker!" I thought this was very funny.
I laid down on the bed. David waited with me while reading a Business Journal. Of all the different scenarios I had envisioned for the conception of our first child, this didn't even make the long list.

Winnie popped in while seeming to laugh at a joke she had just heard. She was so thrilled to be the one who got to inseminate us. She talked and joked and hopped around the room and I didn't really hear any of it. I felt sort of zen. Almost like I was in the zone. The Baby Zone. Similar to the Danger Zone. "Gonna take a riiiide intoooo the...BABY ZONE."
Winnie grabbed a long, floppy syringe in a package and held it up. "David, is this your name and social security number?"
"Yes it is."

"Erin, is this the guy you want?" She showed me the package. There they were. The swimmers. I read his name and since I've never been able to memorize his social security number, not even the last four numbers, I couldn't tell the difference between it and the formula they wrote beneath it indicating the amount of swimmers inside the syringe.

"That's him. What's that number?"
"Oh! That's his count! Twenty million!"

I looked at Dave and he looked at me. Our

mouths were both TOTALLY hanging open. "Twenty million, babe?! Wow, look at you!"
Dave smiled sheepishly and said, "Yeah. That's right."
"That's a great count!" Winnie chirped. "We are in GOOD shape!"
I laid back and she readied the tools. "Oh, Erin. You have such a beautiful cervix."
"Wow. Thank you?"

And before I could make a face at how silly that sounded, she was finished. It was just that quick.
"Alright! Now relax for a while. You don't have anywhere to go, do you?"
"Nope. I'm hanging out," I said. I got out my book and Winnie cleaned up her supplies. She stopped short and said, "Woah! What's this thing?"
"Oh. That is a fetish my friend gave me," I replied.
"What's a fetish?"

"I'm not really sure. Some kind of statue that represents health and you have to face it towards the East. So that's what I did. I figured it couldn't hurt."

"Oh!" Winnie shouted. Just then Sally popped in. "Sally! Erin's all hippy dippy! Look at her little thing to help her be healthy!"
"Oh wow!" Sally giggled. "I didn't know you liked this stuff! Hold on!"

Sally ran out of the room and seconds later emerged with a fertility god made out of wood. "Look! We had this in the other room! We'll put this one in here, too."

Then Winnie jumped. "Oh wait! That one...the um..."

Sally interrupted, "Oh right! With the thing! Hang on!"

They both ran out of the room. I looked over at the fertility god and then the fetish. One of them winked, for sure. The girls ran back in.

"This one is the Poof-You're-Pregnant-Fairy. I'm going to poof you with it and then set it by

your head."

"And this one is another one of those fertility gods. I don't know from which tribe, or whatever, but it looks like a penis so I'm sure it couldn't hurt."

"And this one..."

They went on to describe and explain each little fertility god, fairy, and statue. They carefully placed each one in different places around and about the room and my head. Sally kept poofing me with the Poof-You're-Pregnant-Fairy.

David had to leave shortly thereafter for a meeting and the girls had other patients so I was left with all my new little friends. I had a huge smile on my face. Not to say that this was better than the normal method of conception, but I sure was stress-free.

Free Sample

Again folks, it's a little bit graphic. Make sure your moms are in the other room watching Oprah so they can't catch you reading this.

Sample World was at the very end of the hall. Santa escorted us inside. There was a wine-colored leather chair, a TV, a urinal, toilet, sink, and a clip board. Very romantic.

Santa then gave us the run down. Santa's a matter-of-fact dude.

"I assume that you're staying in here?"

I realized he was referring to me, turned bright red, and said, "yes" as if I was being interviewed for a very high-paying job. I figured if I seemed very professional that this would seem less awkward.

"Ok. Well, if you're staying here then there are some things I need to tell you."

Oh God, please, no.

"First of all, you need to record the time the sample was taken. There's a clock on your clip board."

Ok. Fine. We can do that.

"Second, you need to record it on your sheet if any of the sample is spilled and where it is spilled."

I'm going to vomit RIGHT NOW if I can't figure out how to disappear first.

"And third, since you've never done this together before, you need to talk about who is going to hold the cup beforehand."

I'm pretty sure David grabbed my arm to keep me from fleeing the scene when Santa opened the door to leave.

Probably the worst part of the entire experience was walking out of Sample World and LEAVING THE SAMPLE. Listen, on any other day it wouldn't make a difference. But knowing that this was the only link between "we don't have a baby" and "we do have a baby", it felt horrible just leaving it there on a little table. I wanted to go tell someone to take very good care of it. I wanted to ask them if they could pay close attention to the way they treat it. I wanted to ask if I could be there when they spin it around so I could make sure they didn't mix it up with someone else's. But David assured me that they had done this a time or two before and that the sample would be well cared for. I walked back to the lobby and thought about all the things I should have said to that little cup.
"Listen, guys. You are strong. I know you might not have taken swimming lessons, but you were born naturals. I know it. And I believe in you. If I may, I'd like to give you some guidance. First, swim up and to the right. My left, your right. That's where the egg is. Second, the egg is about 1.8cm. There is a smaller one behind it. Either one is fine. Third, when you find the egg, do whatever it is you're supposed to do when you find the egg. I'm not really sure if you kiss it or hug it or offer a game of checkers. Just do the right thing. And we'll be cheering you on the entire time. I set you FREE! Now get out there and SWIM!"
While we waited in the lobby, another couple walked in. They signed in and sat down. Then, the nurse called the man's name and the couple walked back towards Santa. I chuckled to myself, knowing exactly what they were about to go do. I wanted to shout, "Don't forget to hold the cup!" When they came back, it was strange to sit in the room with them. We all knew why we were there. We could all just talk about how silly this feels, but instead we sat there silently trying not to make eye contact and exchanging low-toned conversations with our partners. Oh well. Maybe the lobby of the fertility clinic isn't the first place people want to find friends.
After 20 minutes of awkward silence, they finally called my name.
Let the insemination begin.