The end and a beginning

Reading through my last post, it was pretty clear that we had a very bad match. Whether she was ripping me off and had no intent of placing her baby wasn’t even the point. I didn’t respect her. I wanted the relationship solely for the baby and cringed at the baggage from her DNA. Yep, I am a snob living a completely different life and happy for it. I hoped nurture would be enough. And a precious newborn in my arms to make up for the roller coaster his birth mother put us through.

Thankfully a higher power stepped in. On Sunday the 16^th, the eve of Rosh Hashanah, I texted her asking how things were going. This came after her dropping calls with the doctor when the caseworker was on the line to finally get the due date. We were five days away from flying to Arizona. And finally, she replied. A brief text message that I accidently deleted after one reading. The only part I remember was “Thanks for everything bye”. She was keeping him. Relief washed over me but yet again, my arms were empty. Once again, we got bad news.

I finally understood the appeal of donor eggs. The thought of another adoption, another birth mother, thousands more dollars only to be in this place again was too much. Donor. I could be pregnant again. The baby could share DS and DH’s DNA. No one would ever have to know. Before I talked to Mark on Monday, I scheduled an appointment with Dr. Rosen for Friday.

And then things started to get weird. On Tuesday, I got a call from Meredith at Adopt Help. A white baby boy was about to be born in Roseville – just 90 minutes away. Were we interested? Three frantic hours, poring through the birth mothers file, talking to OBs, pediatricians and each other. We canceled the Rosh Hoshanah dinner scheduled at our house, finished a bottle of wine, packed our bags, pulled the car seat down from the attic and waited for traffic to clear.

Two days later, we brought home our new son and my son’s little brother. An 8 lb, blond hair, blue eyed bruiser who we had yet to name and took away our sleep-filled nights. It was as so many people have said was meant to be. Everything from the birthmother to the location to him – our perfect boy – felt right, just as some higher power had planned it.

The following Tuesday, a week after we first learned of the baby, my parents arrived along with one of my four brothers for our son’s bris. DH said it best when we described his name, “We are just so happy to be able to talk about names, to choose a name.” Indeed.

Not an easy road

I knew adoption wouldn’t be easy but I didn’t expect this. These past two weeks have pushed us in ways I feared most and at this point whether this beautiful baby will be ours is a big question. From the get-go I had my concerns. Naturally when you offer financial support to someone for a number of months with the goal of them giving you the baby they are carrying, there is risk. 

Our birthmother is 22, doesn’t have a job and already has two children. Her dad and brother are in jail, she is estranged for her mother and her best friend is support. The birthfather has been deported, her two year old daughter has some medical issues and she has been arrested a couple times for shoplifting. In comes an adoption agency offering her 5 months of rent and expenses for giving up that precious baby in her belly. And should she change her mind, no big deal. The expenses were a gift as were the cost of her lawyer, caseworker and social worker.

I don’t know how I envisioned this relationship. Our one meeting that she put off for a few weeks, went very well. We had lunch at Olive Garden. She brought her best friend and we talked girl talk for two hours. Pregnancy, boyfriends, childbirth, and all that good stuff.  She shared that she hoped to go to school to be a nurse and have more kids when she is older. Later she said, her friend deemed me a good person. I felt a connection and thought about how I could help her get to school. I wanted our son – her biological child – to meet her when he was old enough to understand. I truly got how hard this was going to be for her and knew I couldn’t blame her if she changed her mind.

Then there were the red flags. She reported that her insurance was canceled because she missed an appointment. She was being evicted from her apartment that thanks to our generosity, she had just moved into. She never called me back but frequently called at 3 am. Her due date moved to October 6 from September 28^th and then back to October 3^rd even though medical records clearly stated a planned csection for September 21^st. Oh and it turned out she had been going to the doctor all along.

Mark at Adopt Help assures us that we are right to be anxious. Not all adoptions go like this. This is a tough, challenging case and her intentions are a complete unknown. The social worker she met with thought her intentions to place were there but her actions are very concerning. He gives it a D+ and tells us to wait it out. If we bail now, we are out all of the money and then go back in the pool, waiting for another birthmother to choose us and then another agonizing 3 months. If she decides not to place, we get on hospital wait list reserved for those that have endured a failed match. We might be called anytime that a baby is born and have to go immediately. So just for that option, we suck it up. My stomach stays in knots, I drink every night, and kick myself for falling in love with this child that is not mine and allowing myself to buy his clothes and furnish his nursery.

Some bad news, some very good news

I havent posted in awhile. Its not because nothing is happening. There have been so many ups and downs that I will try to capture for my own sake if no one elses. Last post, we had just decided to go back to CCRM.

There were many signs that this cycle was not a good decision. And really it could have gone either way. Last minute, no stress equals just what I needed or last minute means rushed and not thought out. And unfortunately, it was more rushed and not thought out. First my FSH had gone up to 11 from 7.3 a  year ago. So much for giving up gluten, dairy and taking all of my vitamins. Dr. Surrey increased my Gonal to 300 from a max of 225 last cycle. Second was the issue of my nurse, Sonja, who try as she might couldnt get anything right. Tells me she is sending the lupron prescription to Apothecary pharmacy and she sends it to Freedom which she had just told me that CCRM does not allow. Then at my first baseline, the tech found a 20 mm cyst. Three days and three castor packs later, the cyst was gone. My first ultrasound showed 11 follicles and we were off to Colorado where things progressed SLOWLY even with all of the extra meds.

My luck with nurses and techs continued save for a few moments. I had around 14 follicles but many were small and all were slow growing. One lovely nurse told me on day 10 that I would be lucky to get 4-5 mature - this is after getting 11 just 9 months ago from 10 days of stims. When I complained about how long I'd been on stims and that I desparately wanted to go home - poor DS begged daily to go home - she coldly replied that I didnt have a real reason to get home. I was so upset that I signed the wrong name on the blood vial and because of CCRM protocol, had to have yet another blood test. I did finally trigger on day 12 and they were able to get 14 follicles, 11 which were mature and 9 fertilized. All good, right?

I'd told Dr. Surrey very clearly that I wanted a transfer no matter what. If the embryos did not look good on day 3, I wanted them frozen with no testing. Day 3 all looked good but I was still hesitant and I should have been. John called on Day 7 with the bad news that nothing made it to blast. Nothing, nada - ok except for a slow growing morula that they couldnt transfer but they would be happy to charge me $1000 to test for knowledge. Dr. Surrey summed it all up that it was my egg quality, not that I'd been on the wrong protocol or too much gonal. It didnt matter. We were done. I finally saw CCRM stats for what they are - great as long as you can make blasts but in my case, my failure didnt even count because I never transferred. At least at UCSF they would give me a chance to transfer untested embryos. Dr. Surrey chalked it up to egg quality not that it was the wrong protocol or I was on too many meds.

But besides all of this bad news, we got some very good news. Three days before getting the blast report, we found out a birth mother had chosen us!!! On a positive side, not having to think ahead to CCS results, we were able to focus on talking to her and moving forward in a direction we are still getting used to. The baby boy is due at the end of September. I wont share too much about her to protect her privacy but it is a good fit all around. We are so excited that in just six weeks if all goes well, we will have our rainbow. This is not the path I would have chosen and frankly, I still have ALOT of bitterness but I am trying to focus on the world it will open up for us. This is the child we were meant to have. And an added benefit, no stretch marks, giving up wine or coffee.

An Insensitive Chat about infertility

Have to share this video about infertility. Pretty much covers all of the BS stuff fertile friends tell you.  My favorite is that maybe you are too bitter to have children. I have often thought that it might be my bitterness that blocks conception. Then I think of all of the bitter, awful people I've known through the years and from Facebook, I know conception has not been an issue. Enjoy!

Going back

The one thing I have learned in the IF world is never say never. Even if you are really, really certain at one point that you know your limits, it might change. And that is where I find myself. I swore I would never go back to CCRM. I just couldn’t handle the stress of it all again.

Fast forward six months. I am tired again. We try and fail month after month. My body continues to f**k with me giving me signals that I might be pregnant. I take my temperature, drink my herbs, avoid gluten, dairy, cold and raw foods and see the acupuncturist once a week. Instead of getting stronger, my pulse is weaker. I am told I need to relax more, breathe into my belly, open up my belly, give self massage. And every cup of coffee, second beer or glass of wine DH drinks is an affront to our efforts. I no longer hate pregnant people or avoid newborns. I still want one and badly. Oh and I turned 41.

It was all so simple. If we were going to do this again, it would be CCRM, not UCSF. The SART scores for my age group are clear cut. 46% success rate at CCRM vs 24% at UCSF. I scheduled a regroup with Dr. Surrey. It just so happened to be on CD2.  He suggested we give it another try. He is optimistic. The only change will be the beta integrin test to see if I am missing a protein that affects implantation. I can get started right away, like the very next day, with a retrieval in early June. There is nothing to rearrange. DS will be out of school. We can make a vacation out of it.

Then the questions start. Do I really need to do this again? Isnt three tries enough? I am not even getting into the costs. If it didn’t succeed before, why would it this time? There has to be a line in the sand. A time to jump off the madness. There will always be another test, another tweak to the protocol, something that might help me get my baby. And at what cost?  I am happy again, other than that little nagging sadness when I see siblings together. On the other side, this is my last shot. IVF gets harder with age. I don’t have much of a window. I’ve been doing all the eastern stuff for six months to no avail.  Perhaps it is just not for me. I am in a good place mentally. I can do this one more time and if it doesn’t work truly close the door. Throw out the fertility monitor, the preseed, thermometer and herbs, drink my coffee, enjoy the wine and train for a marathon if I wish. And wait for the adoption process.

So I take the first pill and then the second. Its always so funny to me that we take birth control pills for IVF. I remember starting them when I was 21 and in my first serious relationship. I loved the freedom. Twenty years later, it will be the last time I take them. There are no right or wrong decisions in this whole process. Just trying to do what works at the time. I am hopeful but realistic.

The two week wait - again

Again, I find myself in the two week wait. Two weeks ago, I exuded optimism, not that the IUI would work, but that one day I would get pregnant. I felt that tiny soul that was my angel – baby Chase – and knew he would find his way back to me in a healthy body.  It would not take more fertility drugs, another RE consult or another Mayan massage, I was confident that my body could do it.

In the devastation that was my last period, I put a question out on all of my networks - Golden Gate Mothers Group, Berkeley Parents Network and Lamorinda Moms Club – asking what the secret was of women who had babies after 40. I really wanted to know what was bullshit and what worked. Is IVF the only answer? And of course not a surprise but the answers were all over the board from donor egg to sitting still and taking all the supplements to saying fuck it all, running, drinking and enjoying coffee and finding yourself pregnant. Most of all, it was inspiring. One woman just had her first at 44 thanks to a great acupuncturist. The doctors had told her it wasn’t possible for her.  So I called the acupuncturist – Maria Yung – who coincidentally was just about to go on maternity leave for her third child. Did I mention she is 45?

She made time for a consult before she left. And wow, what a difference. I have been to six acupuncturists (in the Bay Area) – all very good – and no one has spent that much time going over my medical history and actually feeling my body, noting where I was tight. She is the first person to even say that at 40, my window is still very open to conceive. And like I believe, the drugs don’t seem to work for me so no more IVF. Her goal is to loosen up my tight muscles, get me to relax and ease my digestion. I am not to eat anything cold (no more coconut milk ice cream, raw vegetables and salad) and while she doesn’t think I have a gluten issue, its better to continue to still avoid it and dairy. And a drink here or there is just fine. And by the way, she wants me to track my basal body temperature.

So with all that optimism, I did my one and only medicated IUI. Coming off of IVF, it as a cake walk. Two ultrasounds then a trigger. Only four bigger follicles so not much bloating. A quick insemination with no down time. Pretty easy. DH’s efforts to improve his viscosity – no coffee, less alcohol – seem to have worked. His specimen was deemed “excellent” and my mucous “substantial”.

I am now at day 24. My boobs have been hurting for a few days. A sign of impending pregnancy or PMS. My BBT dipped 8 days past ovulation – another sign of potential implantation or just how my body works. No spotting yet but I am also on progesterone. As for my emotional state, I am a wreck. I am tired, like I am every month and I am not sure how to not be in this place month after month. It’s not healthy for me, DH or DS.

The time it worked

Way back when I used to take writing classes where we had weekly partners we'd share our daily writes with. The teacher sent out prompts for each day and you had to write for no more than 10 minutes and no editing. It was all online and a great way to get immediate feedback. Today, I stumbled through some oldies and found the one I wrote after my first IUI which became my dear son. I am holding onto this in preparation for the IUI next week. What luck we had!

Lying on my back after the doctor and the nurse leave the darken room, I imagine what he or she might smell like. I bring soft Johnson and Johnson gooey baby smell to mind and smile. I picture myself holding her or maybe him and ingesting the scent deep into my being, holding onto it, knowing it wont last forever. I let myself allow this potential person to be anything he or she wants. I promise to nurture them, laugh with them, let them cry and read them books before bedtime. I want to feel something between my legs besides the tinge where the catheter went into my cervix. I want to feel the explosion of beginning.

They told me to lie here for just five to ten minutes then its back to work like I had just run an errand
not been inseminated with my future child. I hold onto the images of a girl who looks like I did. Blond hair, blue eyed with big freckles and two missing frontteeth. I hope for a dark Italian looking boy like Dave and the joy in watching him have something look like him. I hold onto that.

I let myself accept it might not work this time. Maybe not the next time either. Or ever. I want to think I can accept this. That I can stop it after this and not continue down an emotional rollercoaster.  I stick
with the hope and the smell. I smile feeling the softness of his/her future hair and promise that if I
just get this chance, I wont ever take it for granted.

And away we go - again

On a positive note, I did not need to wait a full two weeks to find out that I wasn’t pregnant. Like the good old days before DS, my period came in spots nearly a week before it came in full force. It was so early that for a night, DH and I giggled that it might be implantation bleeding. Hah! If only.

You would think that giving up all that I have plus now gluten and dairy (for the most part) and seeing my thyroid drop to a record natural low of 1.62 (optimal for fertility is between 1 and 2) that my period would step into line. That with acupuncture, herbs and regular supplements that I would have a perfectly regular, balanced and bright red flowing AF.  And to see it go back to where it was four years ago where it was accompanied by excruciating pain alleviated only by Vicodin is just a bit frustrating. Thankfully, the cramps were for the most part non-existent, at least and I did remind myself that I did conceive my one good egg back then too so maybe there is hope.

We decided to try an IUI with injectibles this cycle. It’s the one thing I haven’t tried and if anything it will up my chances of conception with more than one follicle. Plus I already have the meds so in fertility speak, its not very expensive ($1500). So today I was back at UCSF for the first time in nearly a year for an 8:15 am baseline. The receptionist noted she hadnt seen me in awhile and asked how I was….considering. I realized I had become one of the long shots, the ones that keep on trying, year after year that even the receptionists route for…and go out of their way for. When making my follow up appointment, the same receptionist broke protocol to schedule a 10 am appointment for me after initially telling me they could only see me in the afternoon.  Or maybe it was that I told her that I would have to bring DS with me which is against the rules at UCSF. Whatever it was, she was truly kind and made me feel welcome and taken care of. Big pluses at a fertility clinic.

So tonight, it was back to the gonal and menopur – smaller doses this time. I am hopeful as I am each month. That’s just the way the rollercoaster works.

Is it my mind that is toxic?

A fellow warrior in the IF journey just sent me info for this woman that does fertility mind and spirit workshops. http://www.consciousconception.net/home .  She helps you unlock your blocks to getting pregnant and some other stuff.  The front page of her website asks:

Are you "non-toxic" in body mind and spirit? Are you able to let each obstacle become an opportunity for growth and spiritual cultivation? Are you consistently giving yourself credit for what you are doing well? Are you pampering yourself on a regular basis?

Did you know that by doing any one of the above you are literally supporting your fertile 'energy'?

Part of me is ready to get on the phone and call her tomorrow to schedule a session (cant hurt right?) Then I think - seriously? people get pregnant every day without ever going to a spirit counselor to unblock their bitterness and childhood traumas. They are plenty toxic in body and spirit, enjoying healthy diets of Diet Coke, Oreos, hormone-laden meats and unresolved fights with their partner. They enjoy lingering childhood trauma well into adulthood, feel trapped and question their self worth on a daily basis. But somehow they don’t need a spiritual guide to get pregnant so why do I? Why does anyone?

I don’t want to discount her because for $100, she can unlock what $80,000 in IVF, acupuncture, Mayan massage, Preseed, the ClearBlue digital fertility monitor and supplements cannot. Read the “gratitudes” on her website and there are certainly many happy customers.  And frankly, I do believe that we have no control on this path and to survive, its essential to cultivate my spirituality and find meaning of it all. Otherwise, I might just lose it when I get the fifth request to make a meal for the newest baby in the preschool or rip down the posterboard size announcement that has been hanging outside my sons classroom for 2 weeks.

I guess my point in this rant goes back to my annoyance at all of these costly fixes to fertility. Around every corner there is one more area to explore, something I have ignored and let lapse and for a certain sum of money, I can heal myself, giving my baby the perfect vehicle. I am tired of it. My baby is coming. This is I know. Either through my body or adoption. I feel better about it than I ever have before. I don’t need to apologize for my bitterness or the pang in my gut when I see a woman my age with a big belly. No amount of spiritual guidance, therapy or wine will make that go away (though I would certainly welcome it).

That’s it for the rant. I still may call her because well, its cheaper than IVF and I am curious. And to be honest, I have some other blockages, not related to getting pregnant, that could use some healing. Plus she sounds pretty cool.

It's not my fault

Driving home the other day as mind went through the usual flow – I need to start taking the Bee Pollen supplements, I also forgot to take the Maca and I have not been doing my fertility yoga for a couple months, maybe I should do another Mayan massage with Esther – it suddenly hit me. It doesn’t fucking matter what I do. For every person who got pregnant after seeing Esther, another ten drank wine, went running and lived on Diet Coke and got pregnant.

It all comes down to luck, fate, what have you and while I got DS, it hasn’t worked so well since. And thanks to the miracles of modern medicine, I know my body is working just fine for a 40 –year old. My FSH, AMH, LH and E2 all come back perfect and even more important, I have carried a pregnancy (not quite to term) which is the best predictor of all.

So I am done. Done blaming, questioning, wondering what the hell else I can possibly do? I am tired of trying to diagnose the problem and jumping on every new fertility fad I read about online. I am going to ignore every new report about causes of infertility. Like just the other day, a dear friend told me that parabens in cosmetics may affect fertility.  I already use mostly paraben/pthlate free products – do I really need to wonder if I would conceive easier if I used the mineral foundation instead of the paraben-laden Armani foundation that I love?  Lets be honest. It might matter some but I am guessing the poor women who keep getting pregnant probably arent buying cosmetics at Whole Foods.

I still don’t drink much. I go to acupuncture and take my Chinese herbs. Since the cleanse, I am doing my best to avoid gluten and dairy. I still do my veggie smoothies with flax seed and take my assortment of vitamins. But I don’t think its going to be why I do or don’t get pregnant. I know that but it in a situation in which there is no control and nothing is 100%, this at least gives me a sense that I am doing something.

One more try?

In early January, I had a follow up call with Dr. Rosen about possible next steps. Not that I was ready to jump into IVF again, I just wanted to get his thoughts on 1) if he still had such high hopes for me and 2) what he would do. Thankfully, he believes me to still be a great candidate for IVF. After throwing out a whole bunch of options – HCG infusion to help my lining, co-culture to support the embryo, Human Growth Hormone, DHEA, etc – he promised to present my case to all the docs at UCSF for discussion and to come back with a new protocol.

And four weeks later, I finally heard back from him. To be fair, he did say it might be awhile. The good news and probably no surprise, all the docs agree I should be able to get pregnant. There is no big underlying something we are missing that makes it impossible for me to conceive. So here is what he came up with in no order except how I wrote it down:

-       No more baby aspirin. This makes me nervous but he quoted some evidence where it may not help. I did conceive DS without it so why not?

-       Take DHEA

-       Switch to the Antagonist protocol – yay for no more Lupron!

-       Do the PGD – apparently everyone now does the same kind of testing as CCRM’s CCS. Even better results may come within enough time for a fresh transfer. Not sure how that works but I am ok with it.

-       Use Lovenox at transfer based on my elevated anti cardial lipids and placental abruption with Miles.

-       Add Human Growth Hormone if doing a fresh transfer

-       Do a HCG infusion to help with lining

-       Co culture my embryos

-       Consider natural FET (if FET) with some progesterone support if needed.

-       Uterine biopsy to aggravate the uterus and help it grow back stronger. Dr. Surrey also recommended that as the only change he would make if I cycled at CCRM again.

-       And of course ICSI and assisted hatching are assumed.

There you have it. And if it works, we wont have any idea what made the difference. And it wont matter. I will be pregnant.

So you may be thinking based on my last posts, arent you just going the adoption route? Why the new talk about IVF? Yes, we are going the adoption route and yes, we are trying au naturel with the help of preseed, Dr. Liangs herbs and our brand new Clear Blue easy digital fertility Monitor which I love! I am about options and its hard for me to say goodbye to my own chance to carry our biological child. I am not ready to jump in tomorrow but three months from now, I might. A year ago, I hated the thought of wasting anytime between cycles but for now, I am totally okay with it. Why? Maybe its that I realized that it probably wont work or its that DH and I just completed the 21-day Standard Purification Cleanse.

No caffeine, no alcohol, no refined sugars, dairy or flours, no bread, no gluten. Plus we took a regiment of supplements –omega oils, flaxseed, super green food and fiber. We both feel amazing now that we have replaced crackers and chips with fruits and veggies and sandwiches for big salads. Not that we were really unhealthy before but I more strongly believe that these changes will only help our chances. Both of us are committed to keep these changes (but with the occasional chip, piece of dark chocolate or cup of coffee). Given that follicles start to develop three months before ovulation, I’d like to get my body in the best possible shape before another cycle and if we get lucky in the meantime (on our own or through adoption), even better.

Good things

We are moving right along on the adoption front. First step after signing a 15 page contract and paying the first of 3 Phase 1 installments is to create a Dear Birth Mother letter. And no its not just a simple letter that says, “please give us your child especially if you don’t drink, smoke cigarettes and avoid drugs. And even better if you don’t have any crazies in your biological family. And we promise to love your baby forever and ever!” The dear birthmother letter is a full on sales brochure.

Its starts with a “I know how hard this is for you” and goes on to show how great we are. We tell that by sharing what a fantastic couple we are, how interesting we both are as individuals, what a wonderful community we live in (you know – schools, cul de sac, tons of families nearby), what we love about each other and interspersed in all that how we cant wait to share all of this with a child. It wouldn’t be complete with photos to back up our claims. Its kinda hokey but this is what the adoption agency sends out when a birth mother matches our criteria. Then its up to her to pick who she thinks is going to take the best care of her unborn child.

We could do this ourselves but wouldn’t you know, there are people who make a living creating dear birthmother letters.  For $850, Joanna at Ourchosenchild.com took our draft letter, my photos, and our answers to tons of silly questions (what five things make you happy, what are your favorite vacations, what are your special talents?) and will make us look like the best parents on the planet.

It helps that Joanna is both an adoptee and a mother of an adopted child. What’s more, she has a biological son who was also a 30 weeker! And he also has red hair. She truly gets us as the parents we already are and the ones to our future child we want to be. I can’t wait to see the final product!

Being happy

Two days before I got AF (which was 5 days late), I couldn’t stop crying. I’d seen the latest new baby being held by big sister pic on Facebook and felt like the pain would never go away. That of all the people facing secondary infertility at my age, it was me that wasn’t getting a happy ending. And it just isn’t fair. I am a good mom, a good wife, a good friend and damn it, a good person. I cook meals for friends in need, listen to them cry, offer advice to others in the same boat , suffer through baby showers and even play the stupid games, smile and coo at the endless parade of newborns at my son’s preschool and am happy, really happy with my son.

And then I just had to stop. I had to stop feeling so damn sorry for myself.  Bad things happen. Its not fair. Life goes on. I am simply over being in this place that every month when the AF hormones kick in, a whiny, unstable version of myself takes over.  Everyone suffers. DH goes silent. DS asks me if I am happy while tears flow down my face watching Caillou (you know when Caillou is playing with Rosie and all I can think is that Miles will never have a sibling). And the dog knows best to stay outside.

So I am saying it now and hopefully stick to it. I want to be happy and enjoy my life whatever that brings. I want to really be happy for my pregnant friends, even those that announce it at 6 weeks before an ultrasound, I want to move past the pit in my belly that turns my smile into a trembling line when I hear someone show sadness over the sex of their healthy fetus or worry about the size of car they need for a family of six and two double strollers. I want to truly feel lucky to just have my one perfect son. Lucky for the time I do have for myself, lucky for the time we have as a family, lucky that we will have more resources to travel the world, lucky that he can have all my attention and devotion without losing myself.

That is my mantra. But for the record, we arent done. We signed with AdoptHelp in Sherman Oaks and will continue to try naturally. And Dr. Rosen is putting my case by all nine REs at UCSF to come up with a miracle last-ditch protocol. But in the meantime, I am happy.

Bhutan anyone?

Easy first pregnancy then six years and a whole hell of lot of loss and ART for second at 41 and then voila surprise healthy third pregnancy at 43. Whats the trick? A visit to Chimi Lhakang, a fertility temple in Bhutan, and getting whacked on the head with a piece of wood. Charlotte Bacon tells her story in Sunday’s New York Times and to a 40 year old woman with a perfect son and then 4 failed IUIs and 3 failed IVFs with a chromosomal termination and miscarriage along the way, let me say I was inspired.

Bhutan has been on my wish list for years. I meant to go back in 2005 when I had a couple weeks in between jobs but I put it off then I met Dave and well, it never seemed to work out. So learning that there is a miracle fertility temple in one of my bucket list destinations gets me thinking. And before I could even ask, Dave told me I could go. He’d stay home with Miles.

Of course, I shared this with my girls and I got some other takers. After the thousands we have spent on futile fertility treatments that promised success, really what is so wrong about spending $10k to fly to Bhutan to get hit on the head with a stick? I’d guess my chances of success are about the same as doing another IVF treatment if not a little better. And it would be much more interesting and a hell of lot less painful than another Mayan massage from Esther. 

And bonus would be a chance to meet the five women in real life who have been my source of sanity this last year. If anything, we can be assured of a lot of belly laughs, amazing culture and scenery and a crazy experience. And the rest of my friends in real life can honestly say that I’ve lost it.