Blogger’s digest
Why I love the acupuncturist
I had never seen an acupuncturist before. A few months ago, a friend of mine raved about this guy, and I was tempted. I loved the blissed out experience he described when he left there, the intuitive hands, someone who can tell all that ails you from your pulse.
The acupuncturist is even better than my friend described. He is gorgeous. In a quirky, slightly camp, can’t quite tell if he’s gay, preppy, hippy, premature graying, delightful way. He’s so gentle and so beautiful. He runs this well-to-do acupuncture clinic with beautiful silk screens and lovely light. He has the most amazing touch and this lovely serene face. It’s so nice to come across such a beautiful human being. And he is so interested in lesbian conception. In fact, he’s buying the New Essential Guide to Lesbian Conception, Planning and Birth just so he’s up with it. So, I am loving seeing the acupuncturist. Loving it.
Why we hate the clinic right now
We’ve had a really hard time with the clinic lately. Trying to do things our way, rather than their way, has not been easy. While they at first agreed that we could do two inseminations on consecutive days, one vaginal and one IUI, saying there would likely be no charge, they then went on to tell us that it was going to cost an inordinate sum. None of which could be refundable for various bureaucratic reasons. Even though now I am no longer taking the drugs and not requiring such regular monitoring we are still paying the same price per month as we did last month.
Then, there’s been another issue with the blood test. Our donors made two donations, one on 25 January and one on 5 February. They were meant to be closer together, but the clinic ran out of liquid nitrogen. Yep, that’s right, ran out. So anyway, Dr Y&F told us that we needed to get a blood test done on, or after, the 25 July. We actually asked whether we needed a blood test six months after each donation and she said no, just after the first one. There is the three month window period in which HIV can be undetectable, with an extra three months to serve the legal cooling off requirement. So recently, she told us that the quality of DDX’s first deposit was not good and she would not be comfortable with us using it. So, this month, we were all expecting to inseminate with DDX (from the second batch) when we find out (as always, only by us asking plenty of questions) that the second batch can not be used until they get another blood test dated after 5 August i.e. six months after the deposit was made. With DDX overseas, each blood test costs us a couple of hundred dollars and them a lot of logistical stress. If we had known it was due on 5 August, we would have done it then, given we didn’t inseminate until mid August. (Although the clinic wouldn’t let us start at CD1 until they had the blood test results). This news came along with the massive price hike for the second insemination and left us feeling pretty angry with the clinic. They make the whole thing so difficult by not communicating with us about what is required, nor being flexible to our needs as fertile people wanting to access the services within a wellness model rather than just being on the medication rollercoaster. So we decided that we would draw a line at what we were prepared to pay, and that we would go ahead with an insemination this month (one IUI only) with DDX’s substandard sperm and meanwhile ask DDY (who is in town for work for a few months) if he was willing to do a couple of DIYs with us. We were committed to using DDX as we had agreed to alternate between them and we had used DDY last month. Combining the two means that who the bio dad is may be unknown until after the birth, but this was something we had all talked about as an option earlier on.
Why I am a crap fertility monitor
I have never been much good at fertility monitoring. I gave up on temperature charting. I tried, but it was just so tedious, and I found the results too hard to decipher, our digital thermometer too hard to use, and besides, because we knew we were going through a clinic, I didn’t feel a genuine need to keep close track. From the fertility clinic’s monitoring, I knew that I ovulated around CD18/19. I pay attention to cervical mucous. But given that we are now facing the prospect of DIY, I decided that we should be monitoring more closely. Once again, turning to Stephanie Brill’s advice, I decided we should begin cervical analysis with a speculum. A speculum is not an easy thing for a girl to lay her hands on in this town. After three calls to the local sexual health and family planning centre, and having to speak to three layers of management there, I finally convinced the senior nurse to give me one (I was happy to buy one but they wouldn’t sell it). She demanded explanations all about our family composition, the technique I was planning to use, then she left me a plastic speculum in a brown paper bag with my name on it behind the counter. And I raced over and picked it up in my lunch break. Not bad. We are yet to use it though. But I feel all the more virtuous for having it.
DDY goes DIY
The next step was to ask DDY whether he was interested in DIY. This was never in the plan. They were always going to be overseas and we had always been thinking in terms of the clinic. We all like the intermediary that the clinic played. We had plans to see DDY for dinner next weekend, but with the realization that, all going to plan, I will be ovulating early next week, we made this rushed approach, and I emailed him saying there was something that we needed to talk to him about and arranged for us to meet him for a drink after work yesterday. It was lovely to see him, as we hadn’t yet caught up with him since he’s been back. And we chatted so happily. I then explained to him about some of the troubles we were having with the clinic, and my decision to go off the drugs. This then led nicely into asking whether he was interested in helping us out, that if we continued with clinic inseminations with DDX and did DIYs with him. He paused, thought about it briefly, and then agreed. He said ‘sure, let’s discuss in more detail next weekend when we catch up for dinner.’ We then had to explain that it was a bit more pressing than that and that we were planning to inseminate early next week. He was happy about it, but a bit concerned it might be a little bit weird. But he’s got this wonderful ‘chalk it up to experience’ approach, so we all agreed that we’d try it and see how we felt about it and as always, an opt out option remained for us all if anyone felt uncomfortable. So, we are going to provide him with an appropriate jar (which Lo is going to give him at work on Monday as they work in the same district) and then we are going to collect it in the evenings after work and try and do inseminations over a few consecutive days, depending on my ovulation. So that’s exciting, but a whole new ball game and I’m having to re-read chapters of all my lesbian conception books that I never paid attention to before. And of course, Lo’s dad then contacts us saying that he’s going to be in town on the night we’re likely to do the first insem with DDY and can he stay at our place. There’s no way we can say no, so we resign ourselves to sneaking out to collect sperm and sneaking in to our bedroom to inseminate.
How artichokes come into all this
Lo and I both love Lesbiandad’s story of the donation being made in an artichoke jar and then when they were pregnant them taking an artichoke plant to the donor as a gift. (I think this is in Confessions of the Other Mother). I love this. So we decided that an artichoke jar would be best for us. I then discover Stephanie Brill also recommends this – I think something about its wide opening –so, now Lo and I are in search of artichoke jars. Not being big artichoke fans, it’s a whole foray into a new aisle of the supermarket and a bit like the pregnancy test, we need to find the perfect special jar of artichokes.
Meanwhile, drama returns
Just when everything starts lining up so well something strange happens. I gained a bit of weight last cycle, I think the combinations of the drugs (I am going to blame them for everything) and being afraid to exercise during the 2WW. So lately, I have been trying to pick up the pace on the exercise. I did a very high impact aerobics class on Tuesday, and again on Wednesday. On Wednesday (before the class) I noticed a very small amount of spotting. I thought it might have been the hard-core exercise dislodged something or caused a small tear. It is now Friday and it’s still coming. It’s less like spotting and more like a very very light period. I called Buffy about it this morning and she seemed to think it was fine. I am due in tomorrow for a blood test and ultrasound so we will see what that says. But it worries me. With Lo on the computer for her assignment all the time (I am typing this on our very old lap top that I will then transfer and upload to the other computer) I have not had much opportunity to ask Dr Google. (I did for a moment at work, but typing mid-cycle bleeding into your work computer is not always the best look). But it’s making me a bit worried about whether we can even go ahead this cycle, what this means, and whether it’s to do with the drugs from last month having stuffed up my cycle? I will probably have a better indication when the blood tests and ultrasound results come back.
But at least the clinic isn’t quite so bad anymore
Then this afternoon the regional manager of the infertility clinic company called me about our blood test issue and the cost of the second insemination. He said that Dr Y&F was happy for us not to need a second blood test to be done. He also said that she would waive her fee for the second insemination, thus reducing the inordinate cost by about half. Both of these are very good items of news. I took the opportunity to give him some feedback about our frustrations, reiterating that we were happy to comply with whatever their procedures were, but needed to have these communicated to us with enough time for us to implement them. I told him how hard it was to make decisions with no information. I told him that from a business perspective, there was a captive market of people like us, but that they did not make it easy for us. He was so receptive to my feedback and is actually attending a workshop with all the staff from the clinics this weekend about how to enhance the patient experience, where he said he would use this call as a case study. I took the opportunity to sing Buffy’s praises. He wished Lo and I all the very best for our cycle and was really very good with dealing with the issues which is just so refreshing.
And so
And so we are now with decent insemination prospects, excellent known donor arrangements, a free speculum in a bag with my name on it, a newfound appreciation for artichoke and then this weird spotting, period, mid-cycle bleeding episode to mess things around. Please think of me tomorrow with the blood test and ultrasound. It would be good to have some answers, and for this bleeding to stop.
Down on her luck
We got back from our trip yesterday. AF arrived Saturday. More painful cramps than usual and heavier. I thought it was coming on Saturday when I woke up, and by mid morning, while we were wandering round some art gallery with my sister and her partner, there it was.
Despite this we had a good break. It was very good to be away and to be around other people. We didn’t tell my sister about our ttcing. The timing wasn’t right (and to be honest, we weren’t sure how she’d react. She’s a different variety of lesbian to us in many ways, and not that into kids). We were sad that this time didn’t work, but it felt ok… Lo and I found lots of space over the weekend to talk and it was nice to be away. We did lots of walks in the country, saw a wombat in the wild (the first time I have seen this), and some newborn lambs that were so cute. It gave us space to talk and dream, about our family, and about our future more broadly.
In terms of the practicalities, we’ve decided to go off the drugs, at least for this next cycle. I hated what the HCG shot did to me, I hated not being able to interpret my post insem symptoms thanks to an overload of pregnancy hormones, I hated the fear of finding myself pregnant with five babies overtaking my desire to have one. My instinct is, research aside, for me as an (apparently) fertile woman, the drugs kicking around in my system hindered my ability to respond to the cycle openly. While doing the insem, Dr Y&F said “next cycle, remind me to lower your dose, because really you should only produce one egg,” If we’re only after one egg, then that’s what my body does without drugs. And if the HCG is to make me ovulate, I know I already do that naturally. So in September, we will do an IUI with no drugs.
On donors, our agreement with our known donors is that we will alternate between them each month. We didn’t want to choose between them, and that’s what felt right to us, and they were comfortable with to. We choose to start with DDY as we have more of his sperm. In September, we will use DDX for our natural IUI cycle. DDY is back in town for a few months, and we will consider using him for a DIY in October. We don’t want to undercut DDX from the process and feel like we should try IUI’s with them both before moving on to the next stage. We also don’t yet feel able to have a conversation with DDY about DIY, nor the stress of managing timing and scheduling in this context. We’ll look towards it as a possibility for October.
Even though we just got started, I am feeling the clock ticking. We have until November. That’s three more cycles until we move away and things get a lot more complicated logistically. Not impossible. But more complicated. But I feel like I will feel calmer with the no drugs approach, at least this month, I am not ready to go back on that crazy mouse wheel.
We went to the clinic for the blood test to prove that I am really not pregnant this morning. I announced that I would not be doing the drugs this cycle and I convinced them to allow me to do an IUI and an ICI (i.e. intravaginal) a day apart. This feels like a good option for me and I am really proud that I am doing it my way. I ran into a lesbian I know, who I used to be quite good friends with, at the clinic. We then emailed for a good part of the day, swapping notes on our experience. It was so good to be in touch with someone in the same situation as me.
Then, today, our car broke. Badly. I think the road-trip was its last hurrah. It needs very expensive repairs, which are worth more than we can sell it for. This is complicated because we are going away in three months, otherwise we would buy a new car. We live where public transport is difficult and time consuming. Hiring a car is very expensive for that period of time. Buying and selling a car is expensive and risky in the time period. So we are faced with begging, stealing and borrowing to keep us on wheels for the next few months. With no family nearby, we have few people to call favours from. One friend has offered to lend us her car while she’s away next week, so that’s a start. And if we can cobble together enough short-term offers we should be able to patch something together and pay for a hire car, or endure public transport, in the interim. This really stuffs things up and is so not what we need right now.
Tomorrow!
Buffy just called. I am surging. Finally. And so I take the trigger shot at 3pm this afternoon, and then we have the insemination appointment tomorrow morning (I give up on even predicting how this works, obviously it’s not 36 hrs later – but the clinic has the best success rates in Australia so I trust them – and I am glad it’s Saturday as I was going to be having to do some rescheduling if it were Sunday or Monday).
how
exciting!
I am so glad I am at home today. Best decision ever. I could take the call without having to whisper and can have the trigger shot at the best time, rather than trying to race home from work to do it.
I love Buffy.
(I don’t think I can convey exactly how cool Buffy is. Lo has decided she wants to be Buffy when she’s older. I want to clone Buffy and appoint her to every profession we need throughout this process, midwife, nanny, caring and accepting parent. She’s just the greatest, ever.)
Nearly at the start line
The sperm has passed its quarantine period with the all clear. The consent forms have been received. My period has arrived – the last period for a long time that won’t mean anything. Our donors are modelling a perfect combination of being whole-heartedly detached and supportive at the same time. Despite some silent panic from our side about them getting blood tests done and consent forms organised, they provided everything on time, as requested and so happily. Dr Young and Funky called me to check in and said ’see you at the insemination!’ (that was a weird conversation to be having at my desk at work). We have spoken to Buffy the Sperm Nurse who wants us to come in for ‘Nurse Chat’ on Friday morning (this involves ticking a box called ‘Nurse Chat’ on a clipboard when we arrive in the waiting room, parting with a large sum of cash, being given a truckload of drugs and some advice on injecting.) I start the injectibles on Saturday morning and she expects we’ll start the blood tests and monitoring next Wednesday.
It sounds very perfect and it generally is. It was a tough few weeks in the lead-up, and Lo & I got really worried that things might fall through, for no apparent reason, except our donors don’t provide us with regular update emails – they just do what we ask of them. Lo thinks that the fact that they are complicit, but slightly non-communicant on the email, is exactly what we want from a donor. She would be worried about what it indicated about their emotional stake in the process if they were donors that were writing updates about each stage of the process with utter excitement. I think she’s right. They both wrote perfect things on the consent forms about their reason for donating being wanting to help us become parents because they thought that we’d be wonderful.
I’m pretty impressed that we have pulled this off. That we asked them and they said yes, that we’ve managed it in crazy timeframes and over a long and difficult distance. I was so pleased to see Lo’s face when all the forms and tests rolled into our inbox. She looked like the cat that got the cream and I know that the known donor arrangement, especially with them, makes a huge difference to how she feels. I am feeling really comfortable about our choice too and do feel such gratitude for our donors and the seemingly ultra-healthy dynamic we’ve got going with them.
We both freaked out that we’re about to start. It’s such a wild proposition that we could be pregnant in less than a month, or that we could be starting on a very long and emotionally draining rollercoaster of ttc efforts that will span many months. Sitting equally open to both eventualities is a tough ask. But we’re excited. In her phone conversation, Dr Young & Funky said ‘boy, six months is up already? that passed fast!’
It hasn’t from our perspective. Not at all. But it’s been very good to have a pre-ttc sabbatical imposed on us. So long to read, think, plan, prepare, become ready.
We’re ready. Let’s go.
