Yeah, those are alligator tears

My spirit and my body are broken. My back hurts so bad I can't sit, stand or lay comfortably. But hey, the good news is now I can take Extra Strength Tylenol and I can drink alcohol. But, I can't stop crying.

We lost our embryos. The life that we had created. The healthy, teeny, tiny cells that were meant to become our babies in nine months... They're gone.

I had to take the picture of them off my desk and surrender it to my memory box. I couldn't bear to look at it. I organized all the leftover needles, wipes, pens, pills, oils and swabs and put them all in one big bag thinking DH could give it to our clinic and maybe someone else could benefit from it. I gathered all my "fat clothes," including a maternity dress and a couple of maternity shirts I had purchased "just in case" and threw them all into paper sacks to take to Goodwill. I'm sure there's a pregnant woman out there that could really use them. I just can't bear to see anything that will remind me of the past three months.

DH was the one to finally say it outloud. To say that our embryos had died. They were supposed to be our babies. And our babies died. Even though they were only small round circles of cells, they were proof that we could make life. They were our great hope. And now, they are gone.

The pain and sadness I feel is all too familiar. Like the sudden pain and loss I felt when my sister was murdered 10 years ago. Like the aching pain and longing I feel for my dad who passed away three years ago. So much loss. So much death. Life suddenly just ripped away without any notice, and me, left here to try to pick up the pieces; maintain some sort of emotional stability, hang on, move past, stay strong, and live on...

I fully expected us to get bad news back on our beta test. I've always kinda felt like my body was not going to be able to do this. But it still hurts. It hurts a lot.

I'm a bit of a control freak. And it sucks not to have any control of this situation. I come from a pretty long line of stubborn women. And I myself am a feisty, strong-willed, independent woman. I've always been able to "make things happen." But I can't make this happen. No matter how hard I squeeze my eyes shut and stand in the shower begging God, pleading with Allah and offering all kinds of deals to any deity that might be willing to listen. No one is there. No one is standing up for me and saying, "You know what, enough is enough. This woman has been through a lot of crap, let's throw her a bone here."

Burning hot alligator tears pour down my face because I am angry. I am angry that I cannot control my own body; that I cannot command it to work like every other woman's body. I feel alone and I feel bitter.  I feel like I am being mocked, tortured and punished.

The other day I started thinking, "What if the test was wrong? What if the lab made a mistake and sent that gay guy's blood instead of mine? Well of course the results would come back with a big fat zero on the HCG!" I have even fantasized about the doctor calling me and saying they had accidentally switched our results with someone else's. I guess I will maintain a sliver of hope until I actually start bleeding. I've only been off the meds for three days, but I already feel cramping so it will only be a matter of time before the big flow of '11 hits below.

But seriously, I know that this is the end of the road for our IF treatment. My body and our pocketbook can't take it anymore. And frankly, I'm out of patience. I need to move on to something that is a 100% certainty. More on that next blog post. For now,  I have to go back to being angry for just a bit longer.

Beta day!

It's about two hours until we're supposed to get the call from the doctor's office with the results of our beta. It's a beautiful day, and I'm feeling hopeful. Please God, let there be some trace amount of HCG in my blood this morning. Please.

I'm working from home today, really just killing time, so I decided to re-read my last blog post, They're in!, which details our FET (Frozen Embryo Transfer).  I had to laugh outloud. I mean, I had the best intentions to spend the nine days between transfer and beta thinking ONLY positive thoughts and eating ONLY fresh, raw fruits and vegetables. But alas, I did not.

Instead, I broke down in horrific fits of tears and big, heaving sobs at least six or seven times. I could not control myself. And let me tell you, I am not a crier. There were at least two nights where I was trying to get myself into bed and my back and my butt hurt so bad (damn PIO shots!) that I just burst into tears. My DH came running into the bedroom looking very concerned, and asked what was wrong. And I would just lay there, face planted into my pillow sobbing that it hurt too much and it was all for nothing and that I just wanted it to be over. I didn't really mean that, but the pain in combinations with all the hormones really messed with me.

I had night sweats like you would not believe. I woke up with a soaked pillow nearly every night. I felt stiff, sore and tired. All I wanted to do was sleep.

And then there was the food.

Oh God, the food.

I had Wendy's. And I had the whole shebang - cheeseburger, fries, frosty... Then there were the McDonald's drive-thru breakfasts. Oh yeah. I usually commute via train to work but because my back and butt hurt so much I opted to drive.  Being in the car gave me the freedom to hit up drive-thrus. This is a luxury for me, and a special treat. We live in a big city and drive-thrus are not common. However, I grew up in the Midwest and drive-thrus are EVERYWHERE. So, when I get the chance, I hit them up. I also found a Starbucks drive-thru that's not too far off the highway. Score! Love me those pumpkin scones.

So, dear Things, I hope that you do not think this is how it will always be. Mommy was just super stressed this week. I promise to do better. Really, I do. As soon as I know you are tucked in safe, I will change my ways.... Well, I will begin to attempt to change my ways, because I want to, for you.

They're in!

Today was the day. The day of our frozen embryo transfer!

On the way to the clinic I started feeling really nauseous. I was really nervous, for a variety of reasons: I was worried the embies wouldn't come out of the deep freeze, I was worried my lining wasn't thick enough, I was worried my bladder wasn't full enough!

When I got into the room to start my pre-transfer acupuncture there was a card addressed to us from the embryologist and her team. It was so sweet, I started to tear up. They also gave us a pic of our two little embies!

Our embies right before the transfer. Aren't they adorable?

DH and I have been discussing the wonders of modern science a lot lately, and how we've never actually made it this far before. It's exciting to think we have actually mixed our genes and created life. And for all intents and purposes, starting today, I'm going to consider myself pregnant. For the first time in my life, I have embryos inside of me. Yeah, yeah, they haven't attached yet, so technically, I'm not pregnant, but I want to have the best positive outlook. I want to believe I'm pregnant because I want my embryos to feel my positive energy. I don't believe that I can just will something to happen, but I do believe in sending positive vibes. Besides, if I start thinking now about the effect my actions will have on my babies maybe I'll finally have a good reason to improve my diet and overall fitness.

We were at the clinic for about two hours this morning. I had 30 minutes of acupuncture before the transfer and 30 minutes after. Soooo relaxing! I could not recommend it more. After the first round of acupuncture, the doctor, nurse and an embryologist all piled in the room and they wheeled the ultrasound over so we could watch the action. I had taken Valium before the acupuncture so I was feeling nice and relaxed and I didn't feel a thing when the catheter went in. But I saw it on the ultrasound screen. Then, the head embryologist came in with our embies and we all watched as they were jettisoned into my uterus. Weeeee!

Makes me think of the scene from Finding Nemo where the little turtle dude Squirt is giving directions before the big "jump." Remember my little embies, rip it, roll it and punch it!

The little white dots on the ultrasound screen made me smile. They were in!

I spent another 30 minutes relaxing, did some more acupuncture, we got our lab paperwork and instructions for the next nine days and we were off.

**********
Last night, over what may be my last sushi dinner for awhile, we decided to name the embies Thing1 and Thing2 after the characters from the Dr Seuss book The Cat and The Hat.

I'm still nervous, but I'm also excited and hopeful. My nurse warned me against POAS (peeing on a stick) before our Beta test. But Sept 2 is soooooooo far away, and Amazon has a great price on pregnancy test strips...So, we'll see.

What have we done? (My ovaries are over achievers!)

It's been five weeks since our egg retrieval. I feel like enough times has passed that I have (mostly) forgotten my pain and suffering and can now joke about it.

But, HOLY SHIT man, I had NO idea. No idea what I was in store for.

I was concerned about OHSS (Ovarian Hyper Stimulation Syndrome) before I even went it for the retrieval. Three days before, I was feeling EXTREMELY bloated and uncomfortable. And, since I have PCOS I kinda figured my ovaries might over produce.

Over produced may be a slight understatement.

Does this bloat make me look fat? Photo taken July 20. Two days AFTER my retrieval.

The doctor retrieved 30 eggs. THIRTY! 30! (As my darling husband likes to say, "Over achiever! That's like doing two and a half years worth of ovulation in one day.)

So let me tell you the story about the week of retrieval....

Friday, July 15 (three days before retrieval)

Time to settle our $9,999.000 bill. (Our insurance covers NOTHING as far as procedures when it comes to IVF. Thank God for Freedom Pharmacy!) So, we whipped out two bank cards and two credit cards to pay our bill. Of course, the banks all have limits on how much you can charge in one day. Oops! So, DH goes out into the hall to start calling the banks as I stand in reception and tap dance. Embarrassing  But, I'm sure they've seen it all before.

Monday, July 18 (day of retrieval)

I'm nervous about going under, but DH stayed by my side holding my hand until it was time. The anesthesiologist was very nice. Dr Positive and our fav nurse were both in jolly good moods so I felt pretty good about the retrieval. There was some discussion about getting Dr Positive to sing Lady Gaga during the procedure, but I wasn't awake to verify he actually did it. When I came to and they told me they retrieved 30 eggs I about passed out again. But I was so happy that we had so many eggs!

Nurse told me to come back on Tuesday to get an IV drip of fluids since I was clearly bloated and apparently, full of fluid.

Tuesday, July 19 

Sat in a comfy chair in the doc's office and had two, TWO bags of fluids pumped into my system. Surely, this will make me feel better.

The embryologist came in while I was filling up and told us that 13 of the 30 eggs were mature. They went ahead and fertilized all 13 (vi ICSI). 

Wednesday, July 20

Oh

Mm

Gee

Slept on the couch because I couldn't lay down flat. Woke up every four hours to take my pain killer. Woke up around 7 am having trouble breathing. Dear God, the bloat had creeped up to my sternum!

July 20, two days afte retrieval. Full of fluid.

Tried to wake my darling husband, "Can't breath. Help!" At first, he just rolled over and patted the bed mumbling, "Come back to bed." I shook him and this time he opened his eyes and saw my look of panic.

So, we called the doc and he said to come in to the office. We got there, and, long story short, they had to "aspirate" my ovaries. I was full of fluid, 500 mL to be exact. I was awake for this procedure, not big deal, the numbing shot stung a little bit and the sound of the "wet vac" "sucking" the fluid out of me was more than a little disturbing, but I survived to go home a few hours later. I definitely felt better.

We also got the news that five embryos were happily dividing. I was extremely happy with the five number. But if you think about it, from 30 eggs to only 13 being mature, and then we were down to just five embryos... Well, it was a little depressing. How in the world does anyone get pregnant?

Thursday, July 21

I was doing better. I hadn't lost any weight, but I felt lighter. I spent most of the day catching up on The Secret Life of the American Teenager. We knew by Thursday that there was NO WAY my body was going to be ready for the transfer. So we were going to have to freeze our embies. The embryologist said we should wait to freeze on Saturday to see how many of the embies could make it to blastocyst. Secretly, I was praying that all five would make it, despite the fact that the embryologist said that number five was a little behind.

Friday, July 22

Oh no! How did I gain 3 lbs overnight?!

Back to the doctor's office for another round of wet vac. This time, they collected 750 mL. Ewww. At this point, I felt like I should start paying rent at the doctor's office, I mean jeez, I was there almost every day for a week. I could never have survived all this if everyone at our clinic hadn't been so nice. They took good care of me. I also had my DH by my side the entire time. 

By Sunday, I was able to get off the couch and hug my nieces who had just arrived in San Francisco.  By Thursday, I was able to drive, and waddle around at Target with my sister-in-law, the two nieces and two large carts.

On Sunday, we got an email from the embryologist:

We froze two embryos on Day 5 that were nice looking blasts.  I had two of the others that were at the morula stage, which is the stage just prior to blastocyst and I thought they would progress to blasts today, but they did not.  They have both arrested.  The final embryo became a very poor quality blastocyst with few cells.  There is good data out there in the scientific literature that poor quality blastocysts seldom give rise to good pregnancies and that very, very high percentages of poor quality blastocysts are genetically abnormally.  We don’t freeze these types of embryos.  The real issue is when the blastocyst has no “inner cell mass.”  This is the group of cells that give rise to the fetus.  No ICM = no baby.  This is what was happening with the one embryo that became a poor quality blast today—no inner cell mass.  So, unfortunately we only have 2 frozen embryos and we have discarded the others.  But transferring two frozen/thawed embryos is pretty much our standard frozen embryo transfer, so I think you have a good chance at getting pregnant from the frozen cycle.  We just don’t want to do an FET cycle until you are completely recovered from this stim cycle.

At first I was really, really, really sad. Only two? After all of that. Only two. Then I got scared. What if these two don't make it? Would I do another IVF cycle? Could I? Could we even afford it?

Five weeks later and just a few days from our FET I'm trying to remain positive. These are our embryos. After two and a half years we have gotten farther than we ever had before. And that's exciting. Our genetic materials have actually met, co-mingled and formed embryos. Two embryos. And as scared as I am about having twins, part of me has kinda settled into the notion that these will be our two babies.

Our FET (Frozen Embryo Transfer) is scheduled for August 25, if my hormones and lining cooperate. Until then, I will enjoy a glass of wine (or three) and pray that my two star blasties are having sweet dreams about growing up and learning to drive and graduating from college and eventually, having little embies of their own. I hope and pray that our stars come out of the deep freeze rearin' to go. We really want to see you grow up!

HOLY SHIT WE FORGOT TO PUT THE LUPRON BACK IN THE FRIDGE AFTER TAKING A PIC WITH ALL OUR MEDS!

Well, here we are. It's June 27, 2011 and we've decided to go for it. Hello, we aren't ff-ing around anymore. We're taking out the big guns, emptying our savings accounts and wracking up our credit cards.

Today was our pre-Lupron appointment (for those not in the know, that means I had an ultrasound to make sure things were "good to go.") Despite the fact that AF has still not arrived, my lining was barely at a 3 so Dr Positive cleared us for take-off.

I was feeling good. Ready to do this! But in the back of my mind I knew things were too good to be true.

DH and I cooked dinner together, ate at the dining room table and took the dog on a 30 minute walk. Everything was going so well. Too well.

During a commercial break in our TV watching I decided to check the Twitternets to see what was up with my @storkonstrike Twitter peeps. @LulusLaments and I are basically on the same cycle and IVF schedule so I clicked to check up on her latest blog post. I was reading the very first paragraph of her latest post...

I got my Lupron in the mail last night. It was cool how they packaged it to keep it refrigerated, and I photo documented the process of opening it.

Then BAM!  - I suddenly realized HOLY SHIT WE FORGOT TO PUT THE LUPRON BACK IN THE FRIDGE AFTER TAKING A PIC WITH ALL OUR MEDS!

Here's the pic we just HAD to take of all the IVF meds. It's seriously a lot of drugs.

I quickly checked my Twitter feed to figure out how many days the Lupron had been sitting in a basket at the bottom of our closet.... The answer is five. Five days. The Lupron was out of the fridge for FIVE FREAKING DAYS. GOD DAMNIT.

After yelling a string of fantastic superlatives I started really freaking out. I emailed Dr Positive. We were supposed to start the shots tonight for God's sake. TONIGHT.

Side note: Dr Positive is so amazing. I love the fact that I can email him at 10 pm and he replies within minutes. Love you Dr Positive!

Unfortunately, tonight Dr Positive's reply wasn't all the reassuring. He basically said,

I really can't tell you that this is ok, gut feeling is should be OK since the weather wasn't that hot. But...............

So, I guess we're going to use it tonight and call the pharmacy first thing tomorrow to find out if we need to order more. I feel terrible because I know there's been a shortage of Lupron. What a waste. What a bunch of idiots we are.

P.S.
DH just gave me the first Lupron shot. If I wake up with extra hair in that spot or a big, ugly rash I guess I'll know why.

How many are too many? I just want one.

The u/s machine. "Wandy" is pictured on the 

right, looking all smug. Ya, ya, I KNOW where you 

have been!

Caution! This post is not for the squeamish. It includes details about female reproductive organs, bodily functions related to conception and S-E-X. You can't say I didn't warn you.

So the good news is that apparently, Follistim works for me.

At last Friday's ultrasound (u/s) my lining was at 10 and we had seven follicles all between 11-15.

Seven!

Seven!

Now, you may not understand what these numbers mean but the numbers are both good and bad.

According to different studies, either 3-4 follicles gives one the best chance of getting pregnant, while more follicles beyond that simply increases the risk of multiples. The U.S. study said 4 follicles, while other countries have data stating 3. The U.S. has a higher rate of multiple births, so 3 may be more likely to be the correct answer. (source: Fertility Plus-Frequently Asked Questions about IntraUterine Insemination)

Good, because yes, the drugs did their job.

Bad, because the doc didn't feel comfortable going forward with the IUI (IntraUterine Insemination, if you don't know what that is, read about the IUI process here) because seven follicles can mean seven eggs, and seven eggs can mean seven babies. He's not looking for any records, and frankly, neither are we. We have no desire to be the next Jon & Kate + 8.

A close-up of the u/s report (I took a pic so we 

could stare at it as we mulled things over.) There 

are only six follicles listed because this is just 

the right ovary, lefty was hiding again (he does

that alot). Doc didn't bother recording past the 

first six follicles.

So, our dilemma, which was discussed extensively over dinner, breakfast, lunch and dinner, was whether or not to have unprotected sex. As you may remember from sex ed, unprotected sex can lead to pregnancy. Since my body (and my ovaries) were all hopped up on estrogen,  doc thought I would probably ovulate sometime over the weekend. So having unprotected sex, meant we could end up getting pregnant. And that thought really appealed to us since (DUH!) that's what we've been trying to do for the last year! But...

Seven follicles meant the potential for seven embryos.

Well, long story short, we did it. Yup, "it." I'm so not going to talk about it, but it happened. So, that was Saturday night. We also threw in Wednesday morning just for good measure.

If all seven eggs fertilized then we needed to be prepared for the worst - selective reduction - which is really just a more "PC" way of saying abortion. Wow. Abortion. The A-word. Never in a million years did I think I would be faced with this. And boy, did it challenge everything I've ever thought about life and conception.

My husband and I are both pro-choice. But being pro-choice doesn't mean we're pro-abortion. We just believe it's up to the individual woman to decide what's best for her and her body. Jay and his sister were both adopted, and I am very grateful that his biological mother chose to have him. And every day I am grateful to be a part of his family. But this, this selective reduction, it's different. It's about choosing life, about being fair, about giving an embryo a shot at growing into a healthy baby. It's about doing what's best for our baby, our family and my body.

In the end, we didn't end up having to make a tough choice. It's been a week and I started bleeding yesterday. No embryos. No pregnancy. No baby. Am I relieved? HELL NO. I felt like we were both ready to make a tough decision but now we're just back to square one.

GOD DAMN IT. So now I'm crampy and bleeding and in a terrible mood. The doctor said I would have a "nice, heavy period" (I'm not exactly sure what he meant by "nice" because a heavy period is never nice).

Another shot at parenthood gone. I feel defeated. And angry. And frustrated. And out of money.

Every cycle is a rollercoaster. The drugs, the u/s, the waiting, the hoping, the praying...  And every cycle there are big decisions to be made. The only thing I know for certain is that I'm ready to make tough decisions, so BRING IT ON!

Have any of you faced the possibility of selective reduction? What should we consider if we're ever faced with this situation again? 

Sorry Bikram, baby-making comes first

I'll admit, I've been a little obsessed about losing weight. But with good reason! There's a lot of research that shows that women with PCOS who lose weight improve improve their chances of getting pregnant. "Decrease weight to increase success," so they say.

And, I've been trying really, really hard to lose a little weight, eat healthier, exercise more... Easier said than done for most people, and PCOS makes it extra hard to shed pounds. I have the typical PCOS body - I carry my weight in the middle - and that's the last place I lose it.  I also crave sugar and carbohydrates - two big no-no's for women with PCOS.

That's where Bikram's hot yoga came in. It burns about 500 calories in 90 minutes and it's a great de-stresser. Two birds, one stone.

But today is day three of my cycle, and tonight we started the belly shots. (Just for the record, I am not a fan of the belly shots.)

Belly shots also mean we're officially kicking off this round of IF treatment. The nurse told me to "take at easy" while I'm shooting up. And she sorta gave me "a look" today when I asked if I could still do hot yoga.  Guess not. :( How will I live without my hot yoga? I've been going to class consistently three days a week since June. 

*Sigh*

I guess it's time to head back to the gym and do some cardio and light weight lifting.  I'll also see if I can find a "regular" yoga class to attend.

The loss of hot yoga should be the least of my concerns right now. After all, it's shot-to-the-gut time again.

These shots to the gut are awful for a couple reasons, not the least of which is the anticipation of the needle. I can't look and I most certainly cannot give myself the shot. So poor Jay has to do it. I usually start the "me-owwwwing" BEFORE the needle goes in and keep at it for about five to ten minutes AFTER the shot. I'm a big baby, what can I say.

We decided it would be "fun" to record the whole ordeal for your entertainment... Sorry, no video, but this is some priceless audio. Even I had to laugh when I heard it.

It's all in my head, I know it. I can take tattoo needles and electrolysis, but not a little needle to the belly. But what's IF without a little drama?

Another downside to these shots is the swollen, bruised belly. The bruising is from pinching your stomach when you put the needle in, the swelling comes from filling you belly with liquid mouse hormones.

Yeah, did you know that Follistim (which is FSH - Follicle Stimulating Hormone) is mouse hormones? I'm totally not kidding. Follistim is a, ""pure recombinant" FSH compound derived from genetically engineered mammalian cell cultures." I jokingly told the Aetna Speciality Pharmacy rep today that I would probably save a ton if I just collected these hormones myself. (Not sure if rat hormones would be as effective, but we have some pretty big rats running around our neighborhood. I'm not kidding. My dog drug one out from the bushes a few weeks ago.) Luckily, our current insurance plan does in fact cover Follistim. The catch is (and of course, there's a catch) we can only order it from the Aetna Speciality Pharmacy. I spent a few hours on the phone yesterday and today getting it all sorted out between the doctor's office and the insurance. If we had to pay out of pocket for our 900 Cu's of Follistim it would cost about $1,200. With insurance our deductible is only $150, thank God.

So, with these lovely Follistim shots we are circumventing my brain and going straight to the source. We tried two rounds of Clomid, a popular ovulation induction drug, earlier this year but I seem to be Clomid resistant (I think this is common for women with PCOS). So, we're done trying to get my brain to talk to my ovaries. Instead, the Follistim is talking directly to my ovaries and telling them to start producing follicles, lots of them and pronto! The goal is to get 2-3 follicles up to size and then - BOOM! - we'll hit them with another shot of hormones to get them to cough up an egg (or two, preferably just one).  I'm still a little bit fuzzy on the whole process, but whenever I express concern that I'm not ovulating on these meds Jay and Dr Kao both tell me, "It's science Staci." Which I guess means I MUST be ovulating, duh. 

Monday we have an ultrasound appointment to see what the ovaries are up to... After only four days of stimulation I'm guessing they won't be all that excited. Past experience tells us I'm a slow maturer (go ahead, make the joke). We usually don't start to see any follicles until around day 11 or so. But my ovaries should start bloating up and feeling sore around day two of the shots. I can barely contain my enthusiasm.

All joking aside, this is it. We've kicked off treatment so now it's time to turn up the positive, put aside the stress and skip the hot yoga. I'm sorry Bikram, but baby-making comes first this time.

Infertility is a four-letter word

Earlier today I was sitting here staring at the big orange "Publish Post" button, contemplating the consequences of a trigger-happy finger... I've put up just about every excuse in the book for NOT starting this blog.


It's not that I'm embarrassed. I know we're not the only couple in the world going through this. And I'm an avid champion and user of social media (blogs included), but this is a really, really personal topic. And most of the time, I feel like it's really not anyone's business but me and my husbands (and our mothers)...

However, I think I know deep down, that if I'm going to get through this, if we're going to get through this, I need to blog about it.

I don't mean to go all Carrie Bradshaw here, but I watched Sex and the City religiously during the brief time I lived in New York, and some of what Carrie wrote really stuck with me. This quote in particular seems relevant to my life right now...

"When real people fall down in life, they get right back up and keep walking."

So, that's what Jay and I are doing. We're taking another step.

Today is day one of a new cycle and a new chance for us to become parents. And although I may sound upbeat about this whole "adventure" I'm still questioning why anyone would consciously decide to have kids.

When getting pregnant doesn't just "happen" and procreation suddenly becomes a project with a budget, a schedule and a timeline, well, it makes you stop and think.

You may not know it, but 1 in 8 couples of reproductive age suffer from infertility (according to The National Infertility Association). Jay and I are one of those couples. And we've spent the last year trying to conceive (abbreviated as TTC). We've spent more money on treatments -- Don't get me started on that -- we could've gone on at least one trip around the world. But we didn't. We chose to spend our money trying to have a baby.

I've had more intimate encounters with the ultrasound wand in the last year than I care to recount. It's never even offered to take me to dinner!

We've switched clinics and doctors twice. Luckily, we LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the doctor we have now. He answers every single crazy e-mail that I send him. Even on weekends!

We've laughed, we've cried.

We've named our follicles.

Infertility is a roller coaster ride of stress, hope, and often, disappointment. But I've decided I'd rather talk about it than not.

I have a disease called Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (or PCOS). It's actually a pretty "popular" disease and if you really, really, really want to, you can read all about it on Wikipedia.

We're open to answering all your questions about PCOS and infertility, we only ask one thing, that you read RESOLVE's Infertility Etiquette guide BEFORE you hit us up.

I'm going to continue to keep the TTC me and the "regular" me separate. But if you're interested in following our story, you can always come back to this blog. I decided to call it "Stork on Strike" because, well, that's what it feels like, like our stork has gone on strike. And dammit, if you've seen him, could you please ask him to report back for duty. We could really use him about now.