If wishes and buts were candy and nuts we'd all have a Merry Christmas

We're not exactly sure what that phrase means, even though my mom has repeatedly said it over the years. The closest we can get is basically, if we all could never wish for much or never regret much, we'd all be perfectly happy. But that's not life.

And that's not my trial transfer today. The first part went well; I was a good little patient and drank gallons of water to prep for the ultrasound. Blood draw - check. Meet with the doc - check. He was so nice and said that he really liked meeting Surfer at the last appointment, and that we had a good energy as a couple. Great! Trial transfer - check check. Then he wanted to do another ultrasound to check my ovaries.

Can you hear the wah-wah-wah-wah-wahhhhhh (the "you've lost!" buzzer)? Even I could tell through the mass of grey blobs that something wasn't quite right. My right ovary was about 3 times as large as my left, with a very large and very visable angry cyst snarling at me from the screen. Crap. Crap, triple crap!

To make a long story short, IVF is delayed indefinitely until 1)we figure out exactly what is going on, 2)we deal with what's going on, and 3)I heal enough so my body is strong enough for the IVF to work well the first time (please, God).

At the start of my next cycle, I will go in for another check and we'll go from there. Options include waiting for it to heal on its own (not likely, since it is probably a bleeding endometrioma), operate to drain the cyst and then go foward with IVF counting on just the left ovary (go, little gal, go!!!), or... well, we don't know.

This is pretty much how I feel right now:

Trial transfer day!

I'm not at all nervous for the trial transfer today. One thing that has changed with this whole process is that I am not shy at all about hopping up on that table, and settling into the stirrups. I've even come to enjoy the flimsly little paper "blanket" they give you for modesty. My new clinic has ones just a tad thicker than my old clinic, so you feel more "cozy" while sitting there in a cold exam room, on cold paper, wrapped in a large paper napkin.

The only thing I am nervous about today is that Doc will tell me that for some reason we have to delay the IVF starting. I'm expecting (hoping) that we can start in April, and I am going to try to find out from Doc if that's possible. I am really hoping that I don't need to be supressed on BCPs (birth control pills) at the start, just go straight forward with stim (ovarian stimulating) drugs.

A wealth of (nearly useless) knowledge

I think all of us have a bit of expertise on something - for some, that knowledge is useful for their jobs or life, for others, it is simply filling up brain space - to come out when needed which isn't very often. I contain the latter kind. I am a complete stroller nerd. Always have been - I can remember in school, when other little girls were drawing ponies and rainbows, I was designing strollers. I fell in love with an Evenflo stroller and ended up buying it (with my brothers) for my mom when my youngest brother was born.

This obesssion has continued, I'm somewhat ashamed to say. Surfer gets a kick out of it; we'll be driving down the street and see someone pushing a stroller, and he'll quiz me on the make/model, etc. Almost like guys do with hot cars they see driving past. Which brings me to an interesting correlation. You see, I think of strollers a baby cars. Wheels are wheels - big or small. And while I may not be picky about the type of nursery furniture, or clothing, or toys our baby gets (when we finally have a baby, that is) you can be darn sure I'm going to make sure our child has one sweet ride.

We'll begin our lesson today by looking at the "base model". The Graco - which I dub the Ford Taurus of strollers. It is comfortable, nicely upholstered, lots of features - but heavy, unweildy, and won't survive more than one child without looking like it's come through battle. It's affordable, though, so it's common and re-sells on Craigslist for a dime a dozen.

The Combi is the Asian import, the small - yet surprisingly versitile - ride for petite babies. Too flimsy, though, for any lengthy use.

Flimsy also is the very common Peg Perego. This set of wheels is by far the most popular model for those with "group mentality" taste. Think of the GMC Yukon: slick, stylish, bulky, oversold. The whole things just... wiggles when you push it.

If sturdy and sure is your game, consider the Bob. This rugged offroad model is very common amongst the Starbucks crowd and you see it regularly at the upper-crust shopping centers and nice neighborhood parks. It reminds me of the Nissa X-terra: a great SUV made for nature but rarely veers off the paved or tiled path.

The models of the upper-crust vary like the cars at Bellevue Square.

For function, style, and compact size go with the Maclaren. This British model screams quality. The Mini Cooper couldn't do better - and they share the same slightly inflated price.

Inflated price also comes with these two highly trendy models - the wheels of the stars (or, at least, the babies of the stars). The Porsche Cayenne (or Bugaboo): quality, inventive styling, versitile function, but come on - people buy this for the status symbol.

Then there's the feel-good stroller, the most ridiculous set of baby wheels out there, which I readily compare to one of the most riduculous cars out ther. The Stokke Explory, or the Toyota Prius. This stroller is a hunk of plastic that looks like it wouldn't stand up to a heavy breeze, let alone a toddler who likes to throw its weight around. But it's overpriced, and people seem to like that.

The Silver Cross is just a beaut, the ever classy, solid, beautiful Jaguar of kiddie wheels. I've never pushed one, but you know just by looking at it that it would ride like a hot knife through butter.

I could go on and on, but I'll spare any of you who are still reading this post. Let me bring you to the crowned Queen of Strollers, at least in my book. This is truly style, function, luxury, and simplicity all rolled into one. It is the Audi A4 of tiny rides, the Inglesina Zippy. You can hold a testy tiger in this stroller and it wouldn't budge, it has shock absorber wheels to cover rough roads, it reclines fully to comfort a napping infant, and it's hood comes all the way down to the bumper bar for those stormy days. It turns on a dime, folds with one hand, and looks great. This gets the "baby-trend stroller of the year" award from me.

Now, this is if we have one baby. Don't even get me started on twin strollers.

A great analogy

This morning, I happened to catch a glimpse of the Cascade Mountains from my living room window. This is amazing, because we live approx. 70 miles west of these mountains, and we have trees lining our deck. Most mornings are cloudy, but there was a thin layer of cloudlessness above the mountains in the distance, and so I could watch the sun rise over their peaks.

Then a thought struck me - I can see those mountains from so far away! I can almost make out the trees on the hillsides! How beautifully amazing.

Then another thought struck me - I can draw an infertility analogy from this view. When we drive up to the mountains to go skiing, it seems that we will are driving on a treadmill. Regardless of how far we go, the mountains never seem to get any nearer. But then, all of the sudden we look around and realize that we've hit the snowline and we're there!

I think our journey to parenthood is the same. In reality, each passing day is brining us closer to our child(ren) - and while our dreams seem always unreachably ahead, one day we will laugh with the realization that - wow, we've made it! And the great thing is that we don't know when that will be. It could be sooner than we think.

This is OUR story

It's so difficult to keep from jealousy. To keep from wondering what we've been doing wrong, what we can do different spiritually or physically to change our situation. To keep from getting depressed by others' successes and joys in the areas where you want so desparately to share in the achievement.

Surfer (nickname I'm going to use for my dear hubby for the remainder of the blog) and I were discussing this yesterday, after an intensely strugglesome morning. He had such great perspective, and reminded me of Aslan in the Chronicles of Narnia - when the children would ask him about what would happen to this other child or person, Aslan would always stop and say, "But I'm telling you YOUR story."

Right now, this part of our story is dark and painful. I believe that God has a way of allowing our hearts to be broken but not crushed, so that we can truly have compassion on those who go through the same struggles. I hope that is one result of this challenging time.

I feel like we're on "pause". Not hopeful, not devastated, just waiting. I really hate this. Surfer also said that if it weren't for this struggle, we would miss out on so much of the wonder and awe when we finally are pregnant, and hold our baby in our arms - it won't have come easy, and so we will cherish it all the more.

Let the Great Experiment begin!

When they say the "process" of IVF they aren't kidding! Part of me is frustrated that the pre-IVF testing takes so long, but then the other part of me is glad, since I'd rather do this thing right... and hopefully once!

February 26: Blood tests and ACR test for hubby/Kirkland
February 28: Blood tests and trial transfer for me/Seattle
March: Cycle start: schedule SHG for cycle day 6 through 10
March 14 or 21: Panel meets to discuss protocol
April: Cycle start: begin IVF cycle, God-willing

A change is in the air

The instant I opened the front door early this morning, I knew something was different. I walked down our front steps and across to the clubhouse to open the gym, and the air was - warm! There was a sweetness to it, a liveliness that I hadn't felt yet this year. And one lone bird - one crazy, sleepless-in-Seattle, early-riser bird was testing out his pipes. He definitely had morning voice... I think he was singing at the gorgeous full moon that was setting so splendidly. The first morning-bird of the year! Spring is on its way, abounding with new life, new chances. There is a reason Christ rose in the spring.

More words to round out the day

Today has been a very full day. Open the gym, coffee and quiet time, breakfast and emails, do our taxes (thank you, Turby-Tax; no thank you, Uncle Sam!), shower, dress, pack a lunch, drive downtown, call 911 to report an accident that flashed across my rearview mirror like a movie stunt, more emails, show prep, call the doctor's office, hear back from the doctor's office, sell books on Amazon, hear again from the doctor's office, more show research, make travel arrangements, plan for tomorrow's event, schedule my boss's TV appearance, drive northward, take books to the post office to ship, fill out all the shipping forms and realize they're for the wrong product, see darling baby twins and wonder... back to reality, rush home to have a meeting with security gate installers for our condo complex, have unplanned meeting afterwards with to board members, come home to my wonderful husband and the dinner he made, do the dishes, do the laundry, and.... sit down.

Amazingly, I did have some time in amongst all that to think about the fact that we're actually taking steps towards IVF. We have all our pre-IVF testing next week - some blood and "swimmer" tests for my dear hubby, and a blood test and trial transfer for me. Yep - that's exactly what it sounds like. Going through the motions of IVF just without any embies.

This could really happen. The thought both excites and scares me. All of these months hoping, praying, dreaming about becoming parents - the reality of it gets farther and farther away each time you have a month with no success. But this... this could really actually work. And it could work doubly well, the chances for twins are about 50%. Are we really ready for this? Well, ready or not, here we go. At least, hopefully here we go... next week.

But for now... be still.

A blog like every other...

This is my very first blog posting ever. I don't really even know why I'm doing a blog, except that it seems the thing to do these days. (Is that a good reason? No...)

We're on a road of adventure called infertility! It seems like this journey is only one that you can make sense of in hindsight, and so I want a place where we can record and remember each stop along the way, each byway, each detour - so that when we finally hold our baby in our arms, we can look back and see just what a miraculous, difficult, blessed adventure it has been.

While this journey of infertility is unlike any other I've experienced, this blog certainly won't be - I've read about a dozen blogs of the same sort. I guess those of us who struggle with infertility are drawn to blogs - safe places to whisper our hopes, scream our frustrations, and sing of our successes. Discussing these things are difficult in daily life, though. The weird, and the awkward, and the medically specific don't often make great dinner conversation.

And so we blog about it. It's a therapudic way of saying, "We're here, fighting this. We don't have it easy, and it hurts. But we will be hopeful. We will get through this, we will!" And for some reason, it helps.

I'll spare anyone who's reading this the details of how we came to this blog, but to sum up: we've been trying to have a baby for a little more than a while, have been through a few more medical tests and procedures than we would have expected, and have discovered that we have a small number of physical challenges that hinder conceiving on our own. We recently switched doctors, and our new and wonderful doctor told us the news on Friday that at this point, IVF (in-vitro fertilization) is our option, aside from some miracle.

I truly believe that we will be on the other side of this challenge soon, I hope so, and I really want a place where I can come back and read, laugh and cry, and celebrate the journey. Thanks for reading.