My husband Bill and I are in the midst of IVF.
Tons of doctor visits, crazy hormones, and so many shots you feel like a pincushion.
Fortunately, Bill and I have a sense of humor about it.
How did we get here? Well, that started nine years ago with a simple Well Woman check up.
After an ultrasound that shocked and bewildered the nurses, they told me I had a bumper crop of fibroids and some endometriosis.
This was three weeks before our wedding.
Great timing.
Over the next eight years, I had three surgeries with three different doctors.
The first doctor was the old school one.
He was the one that said: "Boy, years ago we'd have told you you'd never have a baby, but with all the new technology you've at least got a chance.
" Nice.
His bedside manner was not his strong suit.
The last one was the best one.
We shared the same sense of humor and have laughed our way through all of my crazy plumbing problems.
The surgeries cleaned things up but did enough damage that I won't be having a kid the good old-fashioned way.
Oh well.
I think of it this way: I'm not dead or dying.
I have a husband who makes me happy and a pretty satisfying job.
Can I really complain? Nah! That's just a waste of energy.
We started the IVF process in December and holy cow, it's been crazy.
You have NO idea.
Here's the short version.
We were prescreened and psychoanalyzed.
Bill shot me up five times a day.
I became an egg farm and was harvested.
Chris (the Love Doctor) made little embryos.
I started feeling sick.
They couldn't find my cervix.
My ovaries swelled to the size of oranges.
I got real sick.
Then I was hospitalized for three days.
I gained like 10 pounds of fluid.
Whew! Sound insane? Yep, it was.
But I'm well now and feeling more like myself everyday.
Now it's a waiting game.
While I heal and get stronger, our six little embryos are in Petri dishes paired up and keeping each other company.
They're a bit cool being frozen and all.
The spring thaw for us will be the end of April when I'll have my first go at getting pregnant.
First off I want to thank you guys for the nice responses and well wishes.
They are very much appreciated.
As I tell my story if anyone has any questions or wants a little more detail just let me know.
I'm here to serve.
Okay, back to my story.
After healing from my last surgery, we decided to ahead with IVF.
After doing our homework and chatting to doctors, we found out that apparently, pregnancy hormones can slow or stop the growth of fibroids and endometriosis.
Since they grow like weeds in me, IVF seemed to have an added bonus.
At the U clinic, everyone has to go to a couple of informational meetings before starting the process.
The first was in September.
Boy, was that information overload.
You're in this dark drab room with long tables filled with very eager, very serious couples of all backgrounds.
And then there was us.
We sat up front and poked fun at each other trying to keep things as light as possible.
We thought it was going to be a quick 45-minute spiel and we get a bunch of pamphlets and we're out the door.
Ah ha ha.
Silly rabbit.
It was three hours with a PowerPoint slide show, charts and figures, and oh my goodness, my eyes are glazing over again.
They described the process step-by-step, outlined all the risks, told you what you'd go through physically and emotionally then went back over all the risks again.
It was intense.
Then came the jaw-dropper.
The financial lady talked about pricing.
Now this is according to my husband because I sort of blanked out at this point.
The procedure alone is $9,350.
There's about $2,000 of additional pre-screening costs, and the drugs can quickly run over $4,000.
Yeah, pretty dang pricey.
Bill thinks we should name the child Cooper because the cash this is costing us could have been a big down payment on the Mini Cooper he's been wanting.
Apparently, he's the comedian in the family.
After the meeting, I realized I wasn't mentally ready.
I had two surgeries in two years and was finally feeling healthy again.
Did I need to go through another attack on my body? I put off making a decision for two months.
I worked out with my workout buddy, ate healthy but not too healthy, and had a really good time.
I was ready for meeting number two.
It was more details, more slides, more medical terms, warnings and enough facts to spin your head right off.
This time, we had a better idea what we were doing.
Meanwhile, we told family and some friends.
Most were excited and happy for us.
Then there were the extremes.
One friend was so giddy at the thought of us having a kid she nearly broke down in tears.
Then there's the friend who had three friends go through IVF and all had horrible experiences.
"Do you really want to go through with this? Adoption is so much easier," she told us.
So, okay, why are we doing this? Why do I feel like I put down $15,000 on the craps hoping for seven the hard way? Ah yes, I remember.
I would like to look at this child and see all those family members who have left us.
My dad, Bill's grandfathers, my grandmother.
To see the people we love in this tiny face.
The quirks and freakiness that makes us family.
I think that's worth a shot.