Trials and Tribulations

 Caterpillar pictures (screencaps) from Disney's Alice in Wonderland movie

Last week, while at my fertility yoga class, one of my friends told me about an IVF clinical trial that two prominent clinics were offering. I hemmed and hawed for a few days until she emailed me the contact person's info and I suddenly found myself saying "yes I'd be interested in being your lab-rat, where do I sign?" I printed out about 50 pages of consent forms and crossed my fingers that the Dr I saw 2 years ago would think I was an excellent candidate for this new experimental medication. I got the call yesterday that they reviewed my outdated records and he gave the go ahead. The coordinator ran through a quick version of the timeline and asked when was the earliest I could come in for more vu-vu cam shots, blood-letting and embarrassing questions about my sexual past. I said, "how about tomorrow?".... today I went in.

The coordinator had asked me to bring in my medical updated records - boy was she sorry when she saw me reach into my messenger-bag and pull out a ginormous Staples binder filled with neatly organized medical records from the past 3 years of horror and torture. Dramatic much? She went through 15 pages of the consent form that layed out what I will be doing, as if I had no clue what an IVF cycle entails. I humored her by fist-pumping when she mentioned I'd be using progesterone suppositories instead of those damn 20 guage @ss needles. Woot! She humored me by saying that the study would continue until 12 weeks after the infant, "oh woops, could be infants, as in plural" birth. She was so optimistic about me getting pregnant I swear I was so close to wiping my schedule clean for the day and asking her out to lunch just so I could listen to her waxing optimistic.

We go through the consent and onto the long list of medical history questions. She checked "no" for all infectious diseases, recreational drugs, smoking, allergies, kidnapping of babies in Bugaboos, and of course no to live births. "No, not to my knowledge, though I have had over 100 dreams about giving birth to a baby, does that count?" She then began request a list of the medications that I am on now. I listed folgard, vitamin D and metformin. "Why are you on metformin?" "Oh I dunno, because my Dr says I have PCO ovaries and wants to try to get quality follicles over a massive quantity of follicles." Insert-dead-silence followed by, "this will disqualify you from the trial."

Wha? Huh? Why? She then went on to say that the trial medication could cause OHSS almost without a shadow of a doubt and because they can't alter the doses, I could potentially blow up like a giant easter egg basket, pass out from fluid seeping through out my body and wake up with an IV attached, giving me a blood transfusion. Lovely. Just lovely. She said, "well, you aren't out of the running yet." Still using humor to win me over. She led me into an exam room, took my vitals, I grew an inch! and had me disrobe, don a bizaar looking poncho and wait for one of the hot drs to come and count my follicles.

Th Dr came in, congratulated me on signing up for the trial - why? Then he went in. Lining was 9mm+ and then he asked me what CD I am - 18. "Oh, looks like you just ovulated or about to." Duh, I know my body every well now, thank you. Then he went on to count the antral or resting follicles in my right ovary. I lost count of his measurments by about #10 and he kept going! While my eyes were buggin out of my head he moved the magic wand over to my left ovary. "Hmmm... did you have unprotected sex this cycle?" What kind of a stupid question is that to ask to a woman who's been TTC for a million years. But before I answered, I had a moment of shyness - you know like when you were asked by your first gynochologist if you've ever had unprotected sex and you want to say no, but of course you have to lie? I almost answered "no" out of habit. He went on to say "well it looks like you ovulated 2 follicles this month!" Again, wha? Huh?

While I lay there with bug-eyes and shortness of breath he bagan to count the follicles - the antral and resting follicles - in my left ovary. Again, I stopped following his counting once he got to 10. I kept shaking my head, somewhat in disbelief and also in confusion. When he was done he wished me luck on getting in the trial and went on his way. The coordinator also left the room to let me get dressed and then came back in with a serious expression on her face. She said that it looks I may not get into the trial because of the amount of resting follicles I have. Their MAXIMUM amount, for this too-good-to-be-true trial, is 20. Yeup, 20. for the record, just so I can have it in writing, my resting follicles, on day 18, after ovulating not one, but two little boogers this month, was 31!! Before she left, she bestowed her wisdom while giving me a big hug - she said, "who knows, maybe you'll be calling me in a couple of weeks to tell me that you got pregnant with twins. You know I have seen it happen many times here - women doing IVF and IUI cycles, the cycles failing and then they get pregnant on their own. Just relax, I really don't think you have anything to worry about. Just keep your stress levels down and take a vacation."

Now my jaw was on the floor - picture my bugged-out eyes, shallow breathing, sweaty hands, mind spinning, butterflies racing and my thoughts a blur, all culminating into having to pick my jaw up off the floor while I muster a polite response and stop myself from socking her in the nose.

I don't even know what to do with this information. Clearly I am fertile, but what good has it done me? Who cares if I dropped 2 boogers this month? What does this all mean if try as I might, I just can't get knocked up?

I am not expecting the next call to be good news about getting in the trial. In fact, I am almost certain I am not getting in. So now I am back to plan A, which briefly became plan B once I heard about the chance to get a free IVF cycle for simply becoming a medical guinea pig. Plan A consists of revisiting my current Dr to review my protocol. It came to my attention that my last failed IVF cycle and WTF meeting was 6 months ago and apparently we all need a refresher on the facts that ... try as (we all) might, I stll can't get knocked-up with medical intervention... point taken. Next steps are to sign up for a contracted-price program my insurance company offers and plan C is to keep my name on the waiting list for the NY State grant - though it's not looking promising that we, those that need help TTC, will get any love from the state this year.

In between all of this madness, Sweet Guy took it upon himself to call his urologist to see if he could go back on clomid - you know, to up his boys' odds. He's been doing acupuncture and taking mega-supplements for the past couple of months, with little or not prodding from me. Gotta love it! So he went in to get blood drawn to check his hormone levels and when the nurse called, he too got bug-eyed. What is with this week? His testosterone levels were prime - perfect - not a hint of lacking. So no clomid for Sweet Guy. His doctor is shocked that Sweet Guy hasn't been able to get me knocked-up yet because in his eyes, "your #s aren't horrendous and I have seen worse, way worse" Sweet Guy is going in to "talk shop" next week.

I am at a loss. With my bursting-ovary news week and Sweet guy's chart-topping boys, you'd think I'd be bouncing off the walls with glee, but I am just so dumfounded.

I am in the middle of a see-saw. Or in the middle of a magic mushroom. I don't know which way to go, left or right? Which side of the mushroom will get be pregnant and which side will make me lose my mind more?

I end this post by shaking my head. IF is such a puzzle.