We Can Rebuild Her. We Have the Technology. But We're Not Sure She's Interested.

You'd think after almost four years of infertility, I'd have my mind made up about the best treatment options. I do. But it's a different answer every day. Partly because things change -- I get a diagnosis, get some treatment, shake things up a bit -- but partly because there is no right answer here. I firmly believe that however our children come to us, we will love them fiercely and joyfully, and we will be, in the end, satisfied with the path that led us all to be together.

Let's break it down, shall we?
1) Wait and see. This is basically what we're doing now -- I'm in a holding pattern on the metformin, waiting to see if cycles really reestablish, seeing if we can get me knocked up with a minimum of technological intervention. This one has a shelf life, though. When do we call it quits? Just how crazy can I make myself? What do we do next?

2) Clomid. Well, we get one more shot at 150mg level dose because of my RE's practice protocols about what day they like you to ovulate, which I think is really dumb and has nothing to do with my own personal body, so I'm parceling out my stash of Vitamin C in 25mg increments, because after exhaustive internet research I think it's the better course of action for PCOS, and at least it can't hurt. So that option is fairly limited, and we'd probably do that before moving on to...

3) IVF. Yep, that's right, this train doesn't stop at Injectaville! My RE said during a consultation that, because my insurance has a maximum dollar amount for infertility coverage, he wouldn't want to "waste time" with a shoot-em-up because of my possible tubal issues. This is the option that freaks me out a bit. Not because I have any philosophical problem with it, oh my, no. More because my poor body has been through so much, and we finally seem to have achieved a delicate hormonal balance, and I would hate to upset that. Also because I feel like I've dealt enough with The Machine that is infertility treatment, and the last thing I need is to become more estranged from my body. I don't need to be angry at it any more, don't want to resent it for not conforming to some medical protocol, don't want to deal with the frustration and pain and heartache, or with the insensitive asshats who seem to populate clinics. I want to love it, treat it gently, respect it for what it can do, and not become embittered over what it can't. I read the words of the Amazon women who go through such grueling treatment, and I admire them immeasurably. You all are amazing. I don't know that I have it in me.

Then some days I believe I would do anything that would get and keep me pregnant. I haven't yet resolved my feelings about IVF. Nor about...

4) Adoption. We've done a lot of research and a lot of thinking and talking, and this option seems like a good fit for us. My husband has a cousin who was adopted from Colombia, so it isn't an unfamiliar thing for his family. My immediate family is loving and accepting as well, though they don't have firsthand experience with an adopted family member. We would want to pursue open adoption, and likely would enroll in a transracial adoption program. But because I'm still on the fence about IVF I don't feel quite ready to start the adoption process. I think it's better if I grieve the potential for fertility, and we move on wholeheartedly.

I have to say that reading blogs of mothers by adoption is tremendously helpful to me, and really makes me feel happy about that path to parenting. When I'm extra-bummed, that's what I do, and it always lifts me. I feel so grateful that this option exists. Same goes for...

5) Surrogacy. My sister has made the mind-blowingly generous offer to be a traditional surrogate (her eggs, her uterus, husband's sperm) for us. She actually conceived (ha!) the idea two years ago, about the time of the ectopic, and has been building on it ever since. I found out about it when I learned my second pregnancy wasn't viable. See, I hadn't told anyone I was pregnant yet, and the day I had the Ultrasound of Doom, my sister called. I was in no shape to talk on the phone, but when I called her back and explained what was up, she said that she had been calling to offer to be a surrogate for us. Fortuitous, no?

This would probably not happen for another couple of years because of her situation. However, that would be the right amount of time to go with Option 1 before deciding, okay, we've had our chance, let's move on. Things could change and my sister could decide she no longer wants to do this, which would be fine, but in the meantime I like thinking about it. And finally, there's always...

6) Childlessness. Oh, no, wait, I'm sorry, that isn't an option for us.

There is no easy way out of infertility. Not one.

In Other News

I decided I'm quitting in another month or so. As soon as I use up all my sick days and take a couple long vacations. I may be exiling myself to Wanted: Pt-time Admin Asst must be familiar with variety of office mgmt software positions, but what the hell. For 18.25 hours a week, you could wallop me with a two-by-four, as long as you pay me a cool $12K and pay for the Almighty Infertility-Covering Insurance. Life is sweet.

Another negative OPK this morning. What the fuck. But a zenlike sense of calm pervades my brain, because I AM QUITTING MY JOB.

Comments

[Mollie]

I admire your self-insight as you run down your list of options. Sounds like you have your head on straight and your heart in the right place. Remaining open and fluid is so important, not just on the path to parenthood, but in all endeavors.

My husband and I never permanently abandoned the idea of a bio-kid, but decided to adopt first and see what shook out later on the plumbing front. Like you, I would have loved an open triad, but for various reasons we ended up adopting from Vietnam. Arduous process, but a fantastic result.

Now we're pregnant, and I do have a new appreciation for how precious an experience it is. I have no regrets about adopting, of course. I'm so glad we did.

I guess I'll just say it's all good. And it's all challenging. You are so right. There is no "right way to go." It's all about what works best for you, in the present moment. Sounds like you've got a great handle on that.

[Julie]

Egad, woman, you are smart. Maybe I'm just hopped up on Follistim, but your words about IVF made me a little bit teary — your determination not to think of your body as an enemy is something I could certainly stand to adopt. Thanks for the inspiration.

And congratulations on your resolution to join Team Underemployed! We are a happy band, we sluggards.

[Jo]

It's a gritty sorority, those of us are here now or who have been there. It's that gift no one ever wants -- that of hard-won strength -- but I'm grateful to feel a part of everything with all y'all. You know, as opposed to believing that I am the only woman who has ever gone through any of this, and sucking it up when a visibly pregnant woman tells me that maybe I just prayed wrong and that's why I miscarried.

Mollie, is there somewhere I can read more of your story? There are many days when we lean toward that plan of action (adopt first, plumbing indeterminate), and I would love to know more.