daily indignities

A friend used the phrase “daily indignities” to describe our former place of employment, but it feels so apt to describe this process right now.

I have been trying to get life insurance since November. First, it was on hold for months (months!) while I completed every follow-up that had ever been suggested — I made the mistake of asking for a dermatologist and a therapist recommendation, and thus had to go to several appointments before I could be considered “clean.” Now, of course, I got the paperwork and they have asked whether anything has changed. I opened it up last night and just put my head down and cried. Do I really need to put myself through this?

I’m telling myself the adult way of doing it is just to suck it up, write “pregnancy/miscarriage” and they can get all the details from my doctor. A much more immature part of me (and my husband) just wants to say FUCK OFF YOU CAN’T HAVE MY MONEY for putting me through four months of uncertainty and scrutiny when I am about as healthy as it gets (oh, and my premium is as expensive as my husband’s for only 2/3 the coverage. wtf). But I submitted the form this morning. We’ll see if I have to suffer more indignity in this particular process.

I also had to pay my bill for my D&C. People. We have good insurance. Like, really good, may pay for part of IVF insurance.

My D&C cost $1000. After insurance.

Lucy knows what’s up.

Now, I wrote a check, and aside from some insult to injury that I had a third miscarriage who didn’t even do me the favor of getting out of town, it was fine. But then I got all fired up  thinking about what they are doing in Tennessee, Texas, etc etc to reduce women’s access to abortions. This video from John Oliver explains some of the restrictions that just don’t make any sense.   If I didn’t live in sunny California, I may have not had cytotec as an option! And I would have had to be lectured about the dangers of abortion. And perhaps, considering what we know about genetics, it might not have been allowed at all because I would be aborting due to potential disability.

What the ever-loving fuck.

I not sure I ever understood so viscerally that I need the choice of whether or not to continue a pregnancy.


stage fright

Of course, after I post on the balanced translocation facebook group about my blog, I have nothing to add. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada.


As I mentioned before, we’re not going to do egg retrieval until May. That means this cycle, we could try naturally, without encountering any sort of penalty from an IVF perspective (unless, you know, I got pregnant, and then my body strung me along for eight weeks again). I’ve started my ovulation predictors, mainly because they’ll expire in January, so might as well, but I have mixed feelings about whether I even want to get pregnant naturally.

It just feels like, DAMN. I do not want to have another miscarriage. I try to be all cool like I could handle it, and ultimately, I probably would be fine but the idea of getting pregnant and then not knowing for several more weeks if things are normal is very scary to me right now. I realize there’s still a chance of miscarriage when doing IVF with PGD, but honestly, even if the whole point is to avoid miscarriages, the cost might be worth it to me. I just need some hope. And a positive pregnancy test just wouldn’t give me hope at this point. I think it might just give me more anxiety and let me down even more if I miscarried again.

In better news, I somehow inceptioned S into taking a few days off (!!!) and moving us into the condo before his mom comes to town. Which means I have started packing, listing crap on craigslist, and getting shit done. I’m so happy she’ll be coming to visit in our new place, even if it’s full of boxes, rather than our old place, which will be filthy by the time we move because why clean now™ when we’re just going to move? I can’t believe he offered to take time off and that we’re going to be in our new place just three weeks from today!



After a hefty night out with coworkers, I got my period on Wednesday. So much for the cycle after a D&C being longer! Mine was 22 days after the D&C.

Which meant we needed to get our act together on the IVF. After both of us talked to the finance person at the IVF office, she’s confident that we’ll be able to do this cycle partially covered with our insurance. Woohoo!  I went in on Friday, armed with my previous records and scans of my HSG (not doing that again, thankyouverymuch) and did Day 3 tests. My follicles are plentiful (23! even more than last summer!) so we’re hopeful we’ll get enough eggs when the time comes. And that means only one egg retrieval, so help me, I hope so.

Unfortunately, the time is not coming for another two months! The probe has to be built and that can take 4-6 weeks. That means we’ll do egg retrieval with my May cycle and transfer in June. Wah. It feels so far away.

crying cry pikachu sad

The upside is that it looks like we’ll be moving next month (YAY) so I can get all nesty before I get all hormoney. Our offer on a condo was accepted last weekend and our inspection was Thursday; all clean. Looks like this might really happen!

I’ve got a friend going through IVF right now who is doing acupuncture, organic, no alcohol, the whole nine yards. I’ve got some health goals (no more drinking ALL THE WHISKEY again, that’s for sure) but I’m trying not to be a total weirdo when these might be my last few months of precious freedom before become a weirdo pregnant person.

freedom 90s retro 1990s oscars

So I’m contemplating… no more drinking? and?? What are changes I can make without having to explain to every single person I know that I’m becoming a weirdo because I very badly want IVF to succeed?

just a little forward planning

I’m a lady who loves a spreadsheet. So I built one with all of my possible baby-making scenarios and when I would actually give birth.

giphy (3).gif

If I magically got pregnant today: December 2016

If I got pregnant the first month possible on IVF: March 2017 (Cost: $20K)

If we started the adoption process and we got a baby in the median time: May 2017 (Cost: $33k + $20k for IVF fun)

If we started the adoption process and we got a baby in the average time: July 2017  (Cost: $33k + $20k for IVF fun)

What if we wait to start the adoption process until after IVF fails? July 2017/Oct 2017 ( (Cost: $33k + $20k for IVF less fun)

Data is the answer (okay, and maybe money too if we end up having to do IVF and adopt).

giphy (4)

I was all hopped up about making a plan, keeping the critical path clear. But you know what? I’m going to have a baby in 2017. Hell or high water (or low bank balance).

Adoption data source: IAC


sneak peek

I spoke to my mom last night, who wanted a follow-up on our meeting with the IVF doc. We are super close, but nothing enrages me more (currently) than when she says “I know you will get pregnant,” or “I know it will work out.”

Well, ma, it might. But it might work out in five years or it might work out with us adopting but you don’t know any more than us so please stop saying what you know. It’s the opposite of comforting. Say “I hope.” That’s the best we can ask for.

I think my anxiety is stemming from the fact that we really just don’t know how this story is going to end. It’s like those quotable cards, which I used to love…

Thoreau clearly wasn’t dealing with infertility or multiple miscarriages. I can’t live the life I imagined in one very important way. I can go boldly in this new direction of IVF, and HOPE that it works, but certainly making a baby while in stirrups with my doctor  instead of in bed with my husband is NOT the life I imagined. So what I’m saying is… there are limitations to that.

Of course, maybe it’s all in my concept of time. What we found out this week is that it if we decide to do IVF, it will be at least three months before I’m pregnant. I’ve got to get my period, then one month for testing, one month for egg retrieval, and on the third month we’d start to do transfers (assuming any good eggs, that is). Sure, three months isn’t that bad until I think the worst thought imaginable…

But what if it doesn’t work?

I’m certainly not guaranteed a baby in three months, or even four or how ever many eggs we have to transfer. They could all not work. And then we spent that time doing IVF, not trying naturally, not starting the adoption process, not trying to figure out Plan B.

I hope that when I’m holding my child I will look back on all of this and laugh at how impatient I was. I can compare it to when my dad was dying of cancer. My brother had just gotten married, but I was still in business school, with no idea what my life would hold. I had some ideas but greatest wish at the time was to be able to let him read the ending to my book, just to see that it turned out okay. I still think it will, but then again, I just read All the Light We Cannot See, the ending to which I would have been more than a little flabbergasted to read ahead of time. But there’s still that human instinct, to want to get to the end to make sure everyone turns out okay, and then to look back and think you didn’t enjoy the journey, that you wasted your time worrying. So my intention this week is:

Enjoy the journey.

If my instinct is to hurry up to see the ending, I need to find a way to slow down, even if it feels excruciating, and figure out what I can find joy in right now.  Some days there will be NFW, but I can’t live the next three months as though I am “just getting through” each day. I will try to be mindful and find the joy, however small, in the other parts of my life, which are fucking lovely and exactly what I wished for myself back when I wanted to give my dad a sneak peek.

I am living the life I imagined. I have a wonderful, kind, hilarious husband, and I live in the sunshine, and I care about my work. I am working my ass off to add a child to that mix and one way or another, it will happen. Because I am fucking resilient, that’s why.

one week out

I feel like I’ve spent the past few weeks trying not try cry and being infuriated by mushy blueberries.

One problem solved: eat them in oatmeal.

Alternate: in smoothies, but only without greens because otherwise you get a brown smoothie 😦

No real solution to the raw emotions. I lost my shit this weekend when I found out that a friend is five months pregnant. Normally, I can keep my cool — I mean, she didn’t steal my baby, why am I mad — but I lost it.

giphy (2)

Of course, after screaming and having a legit temper tantrum, S explained the backstory — she’d had miscarriages and was having a shit time at work — I felt even worse about losing it. I had told myself this story about — of course she’s pregnant, she’s younger and owns her own company and always looks so fucking cute — but it’s not about that, right? It’s about my frustration, and my disappointment, and sadness.

That’s it. That’s the story.

First meeting with the IVF doc tomorrow…