Pharmacy suckage

No one has Ganirelix. It's on back order until mid-March.

Well, no one except Walgreens specialty pharmacy (i.e. Schrafts), which it turns out is supposedly not covered by my insurance.

SUNDAY: I went to my local pharmacy. Answer=can't get it until March due to manufacturing back order.

MONDAY: When I went in for my baseline scan, asked the doctor for an alternative medicine, but it turns out Schrafts has Ganirelix, so they fax my Rx there and we give them all our informtion.

After 3 days of back and forth with Schrafts and their insurance people, I realized I NEVER want to deal with them again. Day 1: My insurance was declined because Schrafts recorded my birthdate wrong. Day 2: Supposedly, my insurance company "couldn't find me." BUT, by the way, they COULD find my husband. I'm on the same plan. Day 3 (today): I demanded they call back the insurance company that very moment while I waited on the line, the story became "declined due to being out of network".

HOWEVER... my insurance company (Caremark) told me last night and again today that I should be covered at this pharmacy. For this particular drug. Can't Walgreens and Caremark play nicer with each other? This is rediculous!

So... they tell me for specialty I have to go to CVS specialty pharmacy, and so after losing an hour to arguing with Schrafts, I call CVS Specialty.

"Do you have Ganirelix?" I ask.
"Yes" they say.
"Am I covered by my insurance wtih you?"
"Yes" they say.

So... I ask my doctor to fax the Rx to them. I even mentioned to CVS that Ganirelix was on back order, and they assured me they had it in stock.

When I called back at 4:00, what do I hear? "We verified your insurance, but Ganirelix is on back order so we can't get it to you."



So... I called my doctor AGAIN, this time asking for an alternative to Ganirelix. Centritide. The one where you have to mix the powder and liquid that looks all intimidating. Crap. BUT, at least it's on it's way, and I can continue my cycle uninterupted.

But still - what a crappy day.

Onward to IVF!

My period started on Saturday, so today is the third day of my cycle, aka the beginning of IVF, aka blood drawing/baseline scan/first Follistim injection day.

We've chosen 9pm as injection time, and VC just did my first one. A little pinch, but not bad at all.

I'm a little nervous, but surprisingly calm.

I decided today that I'm giving up worrying. My new mantra is, "Worrying won't change anything. What do I have the ability to do right now?" I did this for Lent last year, and it was surprisingly helpful. I felt calmer, and more sane, and didn't let all the little crazy work issues get to me nearly as much. Or the personal ones.

So here I am, not worrying. Not worrying about the outcome of the IVF - because all I can do is follow the doctor's orders and keep a positive attitude and take care of myself.

Things at work are crazy. And I mean CRAZY. People are freaking out about lots of things, and try to make it my issue because I'm the messenger. BUT, I'm not letting myself get all freaked out and worried. I can't change what the data tells us. All I can do is give them the best advice I have on how to optimize their plans.

Their craziness will not become my craziness. I will not work 24/7. Not saying I won't work long hours a little, because I can't completely get out of that - but I will have personal time, I will get enough sleep, and I will put myself and this IVF and my husband as the priority right now.

So now that I've talked all big and confidently, given myself the pep talk I need, onward and upward. Day 2 of IVF, here I come.

Back and starting the hard stuff, or maybe the hard stuff is behind me...

Thanks to those who checked in on me. For months after VC got sick, I just couldn't bring myself to post.

It took him 3 and a half months to fully recover, with fevers all along the way which severely affected his sperm count... so needless to say our subsequent IUIs were challenging to get through. We took a few months off, and then did two more cycles in October & November. Things had improved somewhat, but still no dice.

It was so hard that I didn't want to focus on it. Didn't want to write about it. Didn't want to read about it. Just wanted to make it through VC being sick and the disappointment / anger at God for stealing away the hope for having a baby.

So now... the hard stuff. IVF. But maybe (hopefully) compared to the last year, it won't be so hard. Maybe it will be joyous. And happy. And start my 36th year off on a wonderful note. This is what I'm trying to focus on. I'm trying to be relaxed. And positive. And hopeful.

My period is set to come any day now. Which means we will likely start in the next week. I'm a little freaked out. A little excited. A lot nervous.

We were supposed to start with my last cycle, but the tricky thing came on day 21 while I was in Florida. I think the extra month has been a good thing - I feel like we'll start on a more relaxed note rather than rushing back into town just in time to start injecting myself with fun drugs.

I told my sisters about the IVF while we were down visiting for the holidays, but struggled telling my mom & dad.

My family is Catholic, and my parents are very devout in their own casual, personal way (not in a preachy in your face way). On one hand, I know they will love me and support me through everything. But on the other... I know I could not handle it if they expressed any disapproval at all.

So I avoided the subject... because I know the United States Council of Bishops has issued position papers against IVF due to the rights of the unborn and the only "blessed" way to conceive being as a result of actual intercourse between a man and a woman. I've made my peace with it and feel like it will work for us if God wants it to. I also feel that although their heart is in the right place, the bishops don't know what it's like to struggle with infertility, and they don't know how much love it takes to conceive a child with the type of barriers we've faced.

So... because I knew the Catholic position on the issue, I couldn't bring myself to broach it with them... but somewhere in the back of my brain, I realized how my family works and figured out how to tell them without telling them.

• I tell my sisters.
• One of them figures out that I want to tell my mom, but can't, so they tell her for me.
• My mom tells my dad and they have time to mull things over and work through it without me being involved.
• My mom approaches me to let me know she knows, and that she and my dad support me.
• Which is exacly what she did on New Years Day.

So, they support us. They support us trying IVF. And they want me to call and talk to them about it. To quote her, "This baby will be conceived out of love, and that's what matters." She even apologized for not asking me about the infertility stuff more proactively.

The hard part about being home is that I found out one of my sisters is pregnant. This same sister and I started trying in the same month, and her son is now 16 months old. She's on #2.

I wanted so bad to support her, and to be happy for her. Instead, when she came to tell me I spat out, almost in an accusing way, "you're pregnant aren't you?" Not my shining moment. It took me a few days, but I eventually told her I was happy for her, and managed to remain tear-free during our brief conversation.

I know she found it really hard to tell me, and wants me to be pregnant more than anything. But it still hurts. And it feels selfish, but a part of me thinks her getting pregnant means that if I do it will mean less. That sounds stupid typing it out... and it's probably fuled by jealously more than anything.

So here we are. I've blocked my mornings on my Outlook calendar for the next month and a half so that I can drop everything and run to the doctor as needed. My manager knows about the IVF and is supportive. And I'm trying to remain calm.

I hope your journey is progressing in the way you hope. Thinking about all of you struggling with infertility tonight, and thankful you're here supporting the others of us who struggle.

Rough week

On Saturday, I went out to lunch with a friend. Had a great lunch! We ate at this cool Crepe place which was really tasty. BUT as we wrapped up our lunch, I got a text from my husband saying he needed to go to the ER, so I rushed home, and took him to the hospital with chest pains, shortness of breath & fever/chills. They thought he was having a heart attack, so they did all sorts of testing, admitted him, did an angiogram, etc. It was NOT a heart attack, so they kept him in the hospital until today (Wednesday) poking and prodding him to try and figure out what's wrong. He had a bad EKG which made them think something was wrong with his heart.

I live in the midwest, and we've only been here a couple years. I don't make close friends quickly. It's also never my first instinct to ask for help. Ever. Stupid independent streak! On Saturday, I sat in the waiting room for the cath lab, waiting to find out if my husband had a heart attack. This was after watching them do emergency EKGs and chest Xrays in the ER while putting nitroglycering under his tongue. I felt stoic, even strong... but at the same time really worried. And really alone. There weren't even any other people in the waiting room. Just me.

I should have called my mom. Or my sister. Or my close friends who live in other cities. Or even one of the friends we've made here so far. I do have friends here, it just takes me a really long time to feel close to people. And I have trouble even asking family and super close friends for help - so for newer friends, forget it.

Instead of calling someone, I read about the health care bill in Time magazine until the doctor came in. When he told me my husband's heart was fine - clean and clear arteries, good blood flow - I let out the breath I didn't even know I'd been holding. OK, what's next?

They admitted him, scheduled him for more tests on Sunday, and then I watched as he suffered, laying flat on his back, in severe pain, for about 10 hours. You see, they put a stent in his leg for the angiogram. And until they took it out he had to lie flat. As it turns out, the two things wrong with him (which we found out over the next few days) cause chest pain that is much worse when you lay down flat.

The nurses kept telling me they ordered pain meds, but it took 3 or 4 hours before any arrived. And then they didn't help. Not until he got Vicaden at around hour 7 did the pain subside even a tiny bit. And of course, because it was just THAT kind of day, his blood pressure dropped ... and they couldn't take out the stent until it came back up. Fabulous.

At 11pm, I walked to the nurses station, and begged them to take the stent out though a choked up voice and leaking eyes. That finally got them to take the damn thing out. His blood pressure had been back to normal for 2 hours by that time.

I did eventually call my husband's mom and my parents to let them know what was going on. And on Sunday, it occurred to me that I should email my church prayer group to ask them to send a few prayers up to the big guy... and as a result, one of my church Friends came over to take me to dinner. And she came back the next day to take me to lunch. It was nice to have someone here to lean on a little. She even got me to realize that getting a private room is as easy as asking for one (well, that and being willing to pay a little extra). And I must say, the private room is well worth the $25 extra bucks per night they charged us.

The first night we had a double room, and I slept on three stiff chairs lined up in a row. They weren't even supposed to let me stay, but I wasn't going to leave until I knew he was doing better. I finally did leave at 3am to run home for a couple hours and to pick up a few thing for Mr. Vitamin C (henceforth, VC, my hubby).

The next night they had a pull-out chair in the private room, which felt like heaven.

Until I started spotting again.
And then bleeding a real flow.

On Monday, between the bleeding and the unknown surrounding VC's health I thought I would split in two. While he was out for various test, I curled up on the pull out chair and cried. And cried. And cried. I was pretty sure the pregnancy was over, but I didn't know how to process those feelings along with the feelings about the unknown surrounding VC's health. I lost all patience. I even snapped at VC a few times. What a nice wife, right? Poor thing is in the hospital and his wife becomes an emotional freak.

By Monday night we had the official diagnosis of esophogitis/GERD to answer part of the mystery, but that didn't explain his too fast heart rate and the elevated ST levels on his EKG. Our hope was that we'd find out an answer from the echocardiograph... which eventually did solve the mystery. Pericarditis - inflamation of the sack around his heart, caused by some sort of mysterious infection we never noticed. And do you know what the treatment is? Advil. A lot of Advil, but just Advil.

Today VC was finally discharged at 1:00pm. At 1:45 we walked into the fertility clinic for an ultrasound... and found out that my uterus is now, indeed, empty.

Goodbye little cashew.

Roller Coaster continues

Thank you for the congratulations - we are SO excited. :) That excitement was tempered yesterday, though, with spotting. So frustrating!

I finally allowed myself to get excited on Monday, called my family, shared the news - and got on quite the high. Then, yesterday, red spotting. Aaargggghhhhh! By last night the spotting had subsided mostly, with only a few brownish leftover spots. And so far, this morning I'm still at light brown spotting only. I think that's good, but am not sure any more.

Then, I took a pregnancy test this morning, and while it was positive, the line was a little lighter than last time. What the heck does that mean? Maybe nothing. Maybe something. That seems to be the answer I get for everything these days. Even from the RE - when I called yesterday they said, "It could be normal. Don't worry until it turns into a full period flow or until you have cramping that gets increasingly worse and painful."

So, I'm left with praying. God and I are getting pretty tight. Me and Mary too. We talk quite often these days as I plead and hope for this to be real and sticky. And if it's not, for strength to keep on chugging along.

I'd also like to do a quick introduction. Meet my husband: Crazy Pills for Her, Vitamin C for Me He started a blog about a month ago, talking about his perspective on this crazy infertility thing.

179!!!

Will post more later, but... HCG is up to 179! :) Which means... it doubled 3.5 times since Thursday. Woohoo! :)

I think I'm officially pregnant.

Her name is Trixie

Who, you may be asking, is Trixie? She's my lovely Aunt Flo.

I'm not sure what to think anymore, so I'm giving up all control, and just going with the flow. Hehe.. flow. Like Aunt Flow. But I digress.

So, IUI #2 was supposed to start Thursday, but I read the instructions on the Clomid and started second guessing myself about my short period. "Do not take this medicine if you could be pregnant," it said. Hmmm... I wonder... I should double check, just to be sure.

As a result, on Thursday morning, I pee on a stick. And lo and behold... a VERY faint line. Now I'm totally confused. What the heck is this all about? Could the meds still be in my system after 17 days? It had been almost 24 hours since I spoke to my RE's office, and I'm sure they miss talking to me, so I call again. I knew they probably would think I was insane... but I wanted to be sure.

So, I leave a message. And I drive to work.

It's 9:00am. As I wheel my red laptop bag through the maze of cars on my way into my office, my phone rings. I explain, "I was supposed to start my clomid today, but I took a pregnancy test this AM to verify it was OK to start and there was a faint line - what do I do?" "Well," she says, "maybe it would be a good idea for you to come in for a blood test." We set up an appointment for 10:00am. My RE office is 30 minutes away, so I rush inside, posptone my 10:00 meeting, let another person know I will not attend their meeting, and rush back out the door by 9:35. As I sprint through the parking lot with my keys, I think how crazy this all is.

I make it by 10:02. Not too bad. The blood draw takes all of 2 minutes. It is obvious that they do a LOT of these. There is a little bench built directly into the wall with shelves on either side loaded with needles and swabs and tubes. I sit down, roll up my sleeve, turn my head away, close my eyes, and it's over. "If they don't call you by 4pm, call the office for your results." "OK," I say, and jump back in my car for the 30 minute drive north.

Luckily, I have lunch with a friend scheduled and a busy afternoon of back to back meetings, which helps keep my mind off the test. At 3:30, during a meeting with my Associate Director (of course), my phone rings. It's my RE's office. I excuse myself (not too gracefully I might add, thanking God the area of the building I happen to be in has cell phone service at that particular moment), and step into the hall, talking in hushed tones in the far fetched hope to keep this call private.

The nurse tells me the test came back positive (holy crap!?!?), but that my HCG level is really low (only a 13), so not to get my hopes up. "Chances are it's a chemical pregnancy" she says, "but it's a good thing you called us this morning before starting your clomid."

She reiterates multiple times not to get my hopes up, and tells me to wait for the real bleed to start before starting round 2. "Point taken," I think, "but the egg fertilized!!" The sperm got in there on it's own! This particular point is a BIG DEAL! Even if this ends as a chemical pregnancy, I feel better knowing fertilization can happen for us.

I step back into my meeting in an excellent mood, waiting on pins and needles to call Mr. Peapod. I finally get to break away, find a semi-quiet corner near the lobby and share the news with him. Trying to find privacy in our open office environment is kind of a rediculous task due to two factors: open cubes, and spotty cell service. But it was as private as it was going to get, and I didn't want to wait.

He had been so down in the dumps about my period coming, and I knew he was feeling like it was all his sperm's fault. I hadn't seen him happy in days... but when I shared the news with him, I heard his face light up! And my heart smiled. I know this will likely NOT end in a baby this time... but it's progress. It's getting to the next step. And it lets me see my husband feel good again. That's pretty darn good in my book.

Now, it's Saturday. Every time I go to the bathroom, I expect to see blood. Every time there is no blood, my hopes rise just a bit. Mr. P and I have started saying "no whammies!no whammies! no whammies!" each time I go, which I then confirm with another "no whammies!" when I have a successful non-blood pee.

Both our hopes keep going up. But we're trying to temper them and keep the hope reigned in. I go back on Monday morning for another blood test. We'll see what those HCG numbers do then.