Tag: IVF

Gray

Its been a minute, I know.

The last post was nearly 4 months ago, when we heard a heartbeat that didn’t belong to either one of us, but then again sort of did.
I’ve struggled a lot with what this blog and our story would look like once we got our happy answer.

It been a fantastically wonderful difficult hard beautiful gross confusing 4 months.

As a quick update:
We’re having a boy.  His name is Truitt Charles Bush.  More on his name in another post, because that’s a meaty one.
Our boy is big, healthy, active, and we already see ourselves in him.

Struggle

I know, this may sound a little ridiculous and probably makes me look extremely hard to please.  It is what it is.
Being pregnant is hard.  Harder than I was prepared for.  If it were just the physicality of it, I’d probably not post about it.
Physically, I am mostly fine.  My body, however, was not “made for this” as so many crunchy folks like to say.  No judgement to the crunchy, i consider myself partially crunchy (as partially crunchy as one can be after taking the amount of hormones I did and excising weird stuff off my innards with laser beams).  If one more person looks at me and says “your body knows what to do!” I am going to give a very detailed explanation of how NO my body DOES NOT know what to do, it is VERY CONFUSED.  There is another HUMAN in there.
My migraines are now peaking at 5-6 days a week.  I am still able to work full time by keeping a watchful eye on the weather, my sleep schedule (lol at sleeping while pregnant, amirite?) and medicating (safely) often.  I am on a strict no-Botox diet until Truitt says hello from the outside (we listen to a lot of Adele, I’m not sorry), and since I’m bellybutton deep into the second trimester, it doesn’t look like they are letting up any time soon.  That’s difficult for me, because I feel like a flake.  Beyond work, I can’t make a lot of commitments,  because having migraines and hurting almost constantly is exhausting.
Beyond that and some scar tissue induced round ligament spasms, I’m a pretty perky prego.
Mentally, I’ve been a mess.
“WHY?!  You’re pregnant!  It worked the FIRST TIME!”
I know, it usually doesn’t.
“This is exactly what you’ve been praying for, working for, trying so hard for!”
Indeed.
“You must be so EXCITED!”
No doubt about it.  The English language is not adequate enough to explain how we feel.

But why us?

I decided to go public with our journey because I didn’t really know anyone who’d been through this.  I’d found some random faceless women on some message boards and online groups, and I’m thankful for them.  But I thought surely someone I know has done this, been through this.  And then I thought maybe I/we could be that someone that someone knew, when they dealt with this.  There had to be others.  I wanted to find the others that I already knew I knew, I just didn’t know.

Boy, did we.

We have been overwhelmed with the echoes of “me too” we have gotten after going public.  People who have told us publicly and in confidence.  People who are searching for community.  Families who are actively dealing with this hurt and struggle and journey and understand the hardship and just get it on a level that no one else can.
We have found so many great confidants in this journey.  People who are public with their journey, people who are not.  Several have reached out to us, as we are a bit ahead of them in the journey, just as we reached out to a few couples who have been instrumental in our own journey.
We were made for community.  Doing this alone is not healthy, I honestly don’t get how people do it.  We need one another – we are good for each other.  We would have been lost and overwhelmed without this little community that we scrounged up from the depths of the internet and high school and and friends of friends of friends.

In this community, not everyone wins.  Not everyone has the happy ending they set out to find, especially not on the first try.

Sweet friends that I knew that I knew (I just didn’t know) who are dealing with this are seeing more loss, failed cycles, bad news.  My heart is so broken for them.

They didn’t get to/haven’t yet heard their heart beat.  Or they heard their heart beat, and then have experience the death of their baby.

My heart hurts.  A lot.

I feel so guilty that it worked for us.  Like I should maybe hide my joy and excitement and annoyance with migraines and pregnancy discomfort because how dare I?  These friends still hold such a special place in my heart, and I want so much to follow their journey, hold their hand, be a shoulder to cry on, a listening ear.
But I am pregnant shoulder.  My ears still hear my baby’s heart beat.  My belly feels his kicks.  He is still “mine”, for now.

Solution

I don’t have one.  This post doesn’t really resolve into a great epiphany of understanding and enlightenment.
I don’t have it figured out.  I don’t know that I ever will.

I know that we are not pregnant because I ate enough pineapple, or took the right drugs at just the right time, or prayed hard enough with just enough faith.  I am pregnant with a healthy baby boy because of God designed science, and because God has a plan for this person.  It has nothing to do with me.  It is for His glory alone.

We are living in a weird gray area.  Yes, both Mister and I.  This is a family journey, not a female journey.

We are over the moon excited about our son.  We have a son.  I feel him move so much, he keeps me awake, he’s sassy and possibly left handed.  He parties all night and is a total grouch like his Daddy at early morning ultrasounds.  He is soothed and calmed down by listening to Mister snore.  Yes.  Snore.
Pregnancy is what we’ve gone through hell and high water to achieve.  I am so excited I get to experience it, I love it.  I thought it may never happen for us, for me.
Its gross and weird and sometimes it sucks and is hard and it hurts, a lot.  The anxiety we’ve both experienced during our short time with our boy is overwhelming, and he’s not even “here” yet.

We are broken over those who are still struggling.  When we see a friend get told “I’m sorry…”, again.  When another family learns that IUI isn’t enough.  When they don’t know why its not working.  When they don’t know what to do next.  When someone else tells them to “just relax” or “quit thinking about it” or “have enough faith.”

This community is still so important to us.  We are still very much a part of it.  We are attempting, again, a support group of sorts, beginning next month.  I have mixed feelings about leading a group of struggling families as a big ole pregnant lady.  This is too important to us to ignore just because we have our baby growing, but its something that must be handled with a grace and dignity I haven’t quite figured out yet in order to be sensitive and understanding to others.

We are overjoyed.  We are anxious.  We are broken.  We are thankful.  We are conflicted.

We are gray.

 

 

Dropping Genes and Making Babies

Ten years ago, MS high school graduates had to have 2 lab sciences under their belt in order to qualify for a 4 year university.  I think its more than that now.  I don’t know.  I’m done with that mess.  I ended up with 4 anyway, because I’m a nerd.  I took Biology I and II my freshman and sophmore year.  I broke my chemistry teacher’s heart and my mother’s heart (who is also a chemistry teacher…Sorry Mom and Mrs. Malone) when I took one year of that mess and had a strong “EW no thanks” response my junior year, and my senior year, I went back to my happy place of AP Biology.
One of the only things I remember from Biology II (sorry Coach) was a genetics unit we did where Coach had us “dropping our genes and making babies.”  Coach was so scandalous and punny.  We had different gene traits on paper slips, we’d drop our genes (ba dum ching), record the answers on our punnet square, and then end up with a randomized “baby”.

I feel like that’s what we’re doing this week.  I can’t drop my actual jeans, as I can’t get them past my hips these days, but we’re fixing to drop both of our genes off in a lab and in just over a week, we’ll be parents.  How crazy is that?  Science is so cool.  Medicine is wild.  And God is so, so big.
On Friday, after a green light from our doc, we started the twice daily hormone injections of Menopur and Follistim.  I’m taking 3 doses a day right now, but thankfully can mix two of those in one shot, so I only get stuck once in the morning and once at night.  I loath the shots, but Mister hands me a seasonal Little Debbie after every stick, and that makes me a little bit less of a grump.  I’ll start a 3rd medication later this week (an estrogen suppressant, joy!), and we’re on track to have our egg retrieval on February 3.
We’ll be going back and forth to Jackson every other day for ultrasounds, blood work, and monitoring.  Our first monitoring appointment was today.  Doc found 14 follicles on my right ovary, and 13 on my left.  One follicle houses one egg.  Math is hard sometimes (which is why me and chem didn’t jive), but that’s 27 follicles.  During IUI, I only ever had 2 follicles develop at one time, and I thought I was bloated then.  This probably explains why I feel like a blimp.  We are thrilled with that number, but also a little overwhelmed.  Of course that number will drop by the time we get to mature eggs, fertilized eggs, and embryos that continue to grow until Day 5, but we don’t know how much.  It could drop by 6-8, or it could drop by 15-20.  Either way, we’ve got a solid number to start with.

We’re really doing this and its blowing my mind.  The human body is blowing my mind.  What my body is doing is incredible, and I am super impressed with it.  I make sure to cheer on the belly button zip code every day, and apologize for the bruising.  I’m gaining 2 lbs a day.   I feel like an over inflated balloon.  I am eating ALL THE THINGS, and by 7:45 I’m yawning, by 8:00 I have crashed.  I couldn’t even hang with the girls Saturday night for an early dinner at our favorite spot.  Sorry, y’all.  But I know this (the stims) will be over in a week, and this whole cycle will have an answer by the end of February.

We are continually blessed by those who are praying for us, rallying with us, and constantly encouraging us.  After my “gangsta socks” post in early December, my mailbox was overwhelmed with ridiculous socks from some of my favorite people.  I think I have enough pairs to carry me through a full-term pregnancy, and each one reminds me specifically of the wonderful folks that sent them.

We are marveling at what God is doing now, and wait with great anticipation on what he has for us in February.

IVF – Cycle 1

Whelp, we’re doing this.

January 18 – discontinue birth control (lol)
January 22 – initial u/s, start stim protocol
January 26 – monitoring
January 28 – monitoring
January 30 – monitoring
February 3* – retrieval, 2 days bed rest.
February 8* – transfer, 3 days bed rest, begin post retrieval protocol
February 18* – beta 1

*give or take a day, subject to change, pending no OHSS

So, there’s that.
Its scheduled.  We had our teaching session today in Jackson after our initial baseline assessments.  All the tests, all the poking.  Four shots a day pre-retrieval, 1-2 shots a day post transfer.  Lots of supplements, lots of pills.
My doctor paid me the nicest compliment today:

Your uterus is boring and warrants no comment.

That’s seriously the nicest thing anyone has ever said about my uterus.  I was thrilled.  Usually I get a lot of “hmms…”, “uh-ohs”, and “yikes!”  Is now a good time to plug excision surgery?  Who am I kidding.  Its always a good time to advocate for efficient and effective treatment of endometriosis.
Educate.  Empower.  Advocate.
I wore new socks I got from my #ttcmugexchange2015 buddy, and boy did they give my doc a giggle.
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He didn’t see them until he was already in the middle of my exam.  Then he laughed so hard he had to stop what he was doing and get himself together.

You’re SO “gangsta”, Anna.

I KNOW, RIGHT?

As much as I hate the fact that I have to go to a fertility doctor to even have a chance at growing my family, I was reminded today what a rockstar team I have there.  My nurses both hugged me, gave me “real” advice (“you’re going to be emotional during all of this, because, well my God, look what it involves?  But the b**** factor of these meds is nothing like Clomid was…”), laughed with me, asked about my pups, and answered every question I had (all day… I’ve already emailed them twice since this morning).

As we’ve drawn closer and closer to appointments, and as we’ve started taking the first initial steps down the IVF road, my anxiety as skyrocketed to levels I didn’t even know I was capable.  The funny thing about my anxiety – its all somatic.  In my head, I’m totally fine.  I have NO freaking clue that I’m anxious.  But I’ll get off the phone with my clinic after scheduling and appointment or confirming a payment figure, and all of the sudden I can’t turn my head to the right, or its hard to breath, or I start to stutter, or I will talk 90 miles an hour.  After a somatic symptom pops up, I’ve learned (through some therapy) that I need to mentally recognize the fact that I am stressed, and take active measure of de-stressing, even though I don’t feel stressed.  Does that make sense?  Its been a weird couple of months.
I actually went to my GP about it after a severe stuttering episode, ready to seek a little pharmaceutical assistance.  I brag on my doctors all the time, and with good reason.  Doctors are so smart, so much smarter than me.  They know so much!  I have a fabulous team.  But they are exactly that – a team.  To get anything done, they all have to be in agreement.  My GP is not going to prescribe me anti-anxiety meds that maybe my FE has an issue with, or my OBGYN would not want me on while pregnant, or that could possible interfere with my migraine protocol my neurologist has given me. See what I mean?  Its like assembling the Avengers just to get some Zoloft.  This makes me Nick Fury, right?

SLJ

Turns out, not all of my Avengers saw eye-to-eye on this.  So yoga, the never ending grace of God, a new therapist, and a new coloring book it is.

Next week, Mister and I will celebrate our 4 year wedding anniversary.  Its a weird fact that we’ve been on this trying-to-conceive journey for 75% of that time.  My substitute hairstylist (long term stylist is on maternity leave, ironically) asked me last week if we had anything special planned for our anniversary, and before thinking about it too hard, I said,very excitedly:

Yes!  We’re doing IVF!

She paused, a little shocked I think, but to her credit her response was perfect.  Wow, congratulations, that’s huge, its a drag you have to do this but how exciting that you are able to, y’all must have been planning this for a while, etc.  PERFECT.  Stylists are like a special hybrid of therapists and sorority recruitment.  How many problems to they hear in a day?  They are NEVER short on small talk, they probably have dirt on half the town, all while balancing ridiculous expectations of “get the dead ends off” and “JUST a trim…”  I’m on a rabbit trail, I know, but clearly I’m comfortable in my salon, and clearly this woman is no stranger to weird answers to questions.
But yes.  IVF is our big anniversary present.  Its suppose to be the flowers and fruit anniversary, but we’re being modernly liberal about it, and going for “be fruitful and multiply.”

Through all of this, I’ve been shown time and time again the beautiful relationship between God’s sovereignty and modern medicine/science.  Its is absolutely ridiculous to me when we try to separate the two, only accepting one or the other.  God has revealed Himself so much to me through research and finding wonderful physicians and healers who work miracles under a microscope.  Another thing we’ve learned is how common this problem is, how many other families are hurting.  After some discussion with one of our pastors, Mister and I will be leading a co-ed “Fertility Care” group at our church.  This is meant to be a place for families struggling growing their family (infertility, secondary infertility, infant loss, miscarriage, etc.) to come and find peace and understanding in Christ.  Our goal this entire journey has been to bring glory to The Almighty, whatever His answers may be.  By investing in other families and shedding the shame and stigma that comes with infertility, particularly in the deep south, I think we can bring comfort and encouragement to others.  If you’re in South Mississippi and interested in a biblically based support group, shoot me an email at southernfertility@gmail.com; let’s talk.

We covet your prayers as we continue this winter.  Its going to be a surreal journey, one I’m looking forward to chronicling.

Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the Church and in Christ Jesus, throughout all generations, for ever and ever!  Amen!
Ephesians 3:20, 21

Feelings are Hard Sometimes

Its been a while since I’ve posted an update to our story.

Honestly, there just hasn’t been that much to tell, I feel like.  We’ve waited a lot.  Got some “eh” news, made some decisions.  Waited some more, crunched some numbers.  Twiddled our thumbs.  Now we’re waiting on *one* more puzzle piece, and we’ll have a solid timeline.

Edge of your seat stuff, let me tell you.

So, here’s an update:

Surgery + Endometriosis

Its been almost 6 months since my excision surgery.  I can say with confidence now that this surgery in ATL has been the best medical decision I have made in my adult life thus far.  I am a new woman.  I have almost* no pain.  I cannot tell you what cycle day I am on based on where the pain is focused.  I actually have to check my app on my phone.  This is my new normal, and its pretty amazing.  I will stand on any platform given and sing the praises of my surgeon and his team at the Center for Endometriosis Care.  Be educated.  Be informed.  Do not settle.  Praise be to God, I am still in remission.
*Last weekend, I had a cyst start acting wrong and rupture.  I hurt the most I’ve hurt since surgery, and even then it was only registering as “moderate” on my personal pain scale.  Enough to annoy me, and occasionally channel my focus and attention, but not enough for me to miss work.  After running a fever around day 3 of “moderate”, I decided to check in with my doc here in Hattiesburg.  My clinic is set up with MyChart, so I shot a quick email to my nurse.  I had an ultrasound booked the next day, just in case.  I’ve also had a terrible case of the Fall Snots, so it was tough to know if this fever was coming from the Snots or an infection south of the belly button.
Everything is fine, I resolved it on my own, fever is gone, and hopefully I will trade in this gravely baritone for my original alto voice sooner rather than later.  Based on my other cyst experiences, this was a walk in the park.

Fertility + Endometriosis

We decided August was our last “one more month” of trying to conceive without medical intervention.  I’ve mentioned in an earlier post that we put our fertility worries on a shelf, put a date on it, and we weren’t pulling it off the shelf until that date.  August was that date.  I had some Day 21 blood work done during that cycle, and it came back worse than abysmal.  I’m pretty sure Mister has more progesterone pumping through his system than I do.  This computer probably generates more progesterone than I do.  Biochemically, I’m messed up.  Endometriosis and the abnormal growths really get your hormones all wonky.  There’s a super scientific way to explain it, but that’s the gist.  After 15 years of my body knowing nothing other than wonky, it seems as though that’s how I’m programmed now.  You wouldn’t put unleaded fuel in a diesel engine and expect it to run right, and we’re finding the same is true with me.  On my own, my body won’t do right, reproductively.  I’m a diesel, and diesel is expensive.

My doc told me some tough truths.

You’ll likely never conceive on your own.  However, you are an excellent candidate for IVF.  Your hormones are off and don’t look like they’ll ever be right without intervention, but we know you respond incredible well to IVF medications.  IVF was invented to help families like yours.

This was echoed by our FE.  This was a major bummer and comforting all at the same time.  Feelings are hard sometimes.

I had my sad day and a lovely glass of wine.  The next day, I called my FE and made plans to move on.

IVF

Its been almost a year since we last saw our FE.  Almost a year since the Very Worst October Ever.  I took a little trip to Jackson to see my FE earlier this month.  Since its been a while since he’s been around my block, I took ALL the data with me.  Blood work charts from the last two years, daily monitoring data for 2015 so far, surgery report, path report, pictures, diagrams, all the things.  I wanted to make sure he was good and familiar with the neighborhood, since my surgeon has done a few renovations since my last visit.

I conference-called Mister in to the meeting (we’re millennials, we do that now), and we talked about our options.  We could do IUI again, but our odds of that working are about like they were this time last year:  slim.  Real slim.  Slimmer than Mister (he’s a bean pole).  We’ve ridden the IUI train, punched our ticket.  Its time to move on.
After adjusting my protocol based on the fact that I am still in remission (woohoo!) and my AMH came back pretty super (woohoo! squared), we are looking at starting IVF this winter.
Originally, we wanted this fall.  A multitude of reasons pushed this back a bit.  I never thought I’d say this, but we are planning our IVF cycle around football.  This likely seems absolutely insane to most people, but right now, our lives revolve around NCAA and MHSAA football.  I would throw NFL in that mix, but have you seen the Saints this year??  The nation has enough Sad Saints pictures for the rest of the century, no one is buying those now.  A December – January cycle is looking like our best bet.  We are trying to find a few loopholes in our good ole MS insurance plans (political plug:  make sure your representatives know that women’s health is kind of a big deal and MS should be better at it and stuff), and if loopholes big enough can be triggered, we’ll be waiting until January when our new calendar year starts.  If those loopholes are going to be as helpful as another negative pregnancy test, we’ll go ahead and start our cycle in December.
Once we have dates set, I’ll have another post.  I will likely ask for incredibly specific prayers at specific times, and post my protocol to see if any of you gals that have been around this block have any tricks to help get through a stim cycle with your sanity intact.  We’ve settled on a host of IVF-ethics issues that we hoped we’d never have to face in real life, but now we’re staring down the barrel of that gun.  We are following the convictions that God has laid on our heart.  They likely aren’t the most popular in the IVF world, nor the most popular in your typical “Conservative” world, but God bless America, they are our choices for our family and we have the freedom to make them ourselves.  More on our specific convictions and IVF FAQs in a separate post.

We have been very open about our struggle and our choices over the last year.  That has opened us up to both encouragement like we never could have imagined, and at the same time, criticism and thoughtless comments.  Mostly encouragement.  We choose to focus on the encouragement, and chalk the thoughtlessness up to a lack of education.  Folks can’t help if they’re ignorant, right?  Bless their hearts.  Through this sharing and openness, it has come to light that other friends of ours are struggling with infertility.  Maybe not like us, everyone’s journey is different.  It continues to reinforce the truth that this is not a rare issue.  So many women are fighting this battle.  So many families are struggling with feeling broken and frustrated.  When I connect with someone over infertility, I immediately feel excited and bummed out.  Again, feelings are hard sometimes.  I’m excited that I have another soul to share this with that gets it.  Someone who can relate.  At the same time, I wouldn’t wish this journey on anyone.  Its unpleasant and hard and I hate it and if I had the choice I wouldn’t be on this road.  No one signs up for this willingly.

We are well aware that God does not “need” IVF to help Him start our family.  God also does not “need” chemotherapy, defibrillators, pharmaceuticals, or any form of medical practice to accomplish healing and His Will.  Sometimes, that is just the path He has for us to further His Glory.  Praise Him for the sense He gave humans to practice all kinds medicine.

We know that we are surrounded by a great host of witnesses.  So many of you have let me know that you are praying fervently for us, and we appreciate that more than we will ever be able to convey.  We ask you to continue these prayers.  The turn of the year is about to get wild.  Feelings are hard sometimes.  May God be glorified in the journey.

“I’m a little messed up.”

Hurry up, but wait.  Relax!  Keep tracking though, take good notes.  Have fun!  Don’t worry about this right now.  We’re “on a break”.  Ross, anyone?  But did I take my temperature today?  Log that in the app.

I thought the mood swings would stay away so long as the needles full of lady feelings stayed on top of the fridge and away from my belly/butt/arm. Wrong.

While this is the “summer of fun” and we have technically put our IVF worries concerns thoughts “on a shelf way up high where we can’t reach it” (courtesy of therapy), we know that we still have to be wise.  If we go back to Jackson to our FE for IVF, we want to have the best protocol targeted to our needs.  In order to get that on the first go ’round, we need information.  Lots of information.  Lots of data points, that have to be collected ahead of time.  Three months ought to do it, right?  Good.  We have eight.  Five post surgery, by the time its all said and done.

Ideally, we won’t go back to Jackson.  It will just *happen*.  But we’ve noticed some things with me that may be signaling that my body just won’t *happen* on its own.  It still may.  I’ve not lost all confidence in my parts.  I just have realistic expectations, I think.  Maybe.  Is anyone else confused?

Here are things I know for sure.

  1. We really want to be pregnant.
  2. I still have some lingering biological issues.
  3. “Relaxing” shouldn’t be this much hard work.
  4. I’m over the mood swings.
  5. We are not pregnant.

I have warred so much with myself over the last month, and increasingly over the last two weeks.  I bounce back and forth between states of being.  First I’ll stay off of the blogosphere (accept for sweet friends who’s stories I am invested in, y’all come right to my inbox), be still and know, live in the now, etc.  Then I’m getting restless, and I need to have my sad time, reading other stories of frustration, finding solidarity with women like me, both those that I know personally and those that I feel like I know thanks to the great wide interwebs.  After that, I usually binge on encouragement.  I am a fiend looking for wisdom and encouragement from Jesus, King David, Paul, Hannah, Rachel, Sturgeon, Lewis, Dumbledore, Aslan, Gandolf, Charlotte York, Pheobe Buffay, Amy Farrah Fowler, my best friend(s), all of the smartest and wisest and most encouraging people I know and don’t know and aren’t real.  Rinse, and repeat.  I am wiped just thinking about it.

So today, I’m going to cycle back to being still and knowing.  I’m going to take my vitamins with my red raspberry leaf tea (with ginger), when what I really want is a whiskey, neat with a twist.  I’m going to belly breathe my way through a lower back targeted yoga session instead of channeling my inner Grinch.  I’m going to laugh.

You’ve all been there.  Don’t tell stories.

I’m going to keep reminding myself that He knows my babies’ birthdays.  Every one of their days is planned even now.  I am going to be quieted with His love, and know that he will listen to me scream tomorrow.  Peace be with you, fellow sisters in the struggle, who are in the midst of one of these fertility-minded cycles of crazy.

My Therapist Said…

This is the summer of fun.  Try new things, make it a point to spend time together, take mini-vacays, laugh a lot, and relax.  She said we need to relax a lot.

Therapist?  Therapist.

For the last few months, Mister and I have been seeing marriage counselor.  Are we in crisis?  No, not at all.  However, with the amount of stress and obstacles we were/are facing this year, we recognized the fact that we could turn a corner and meet crisis quickly.  We knew that our stresses would not be decreasing in 2015.   If anything, they would be increasing, building on each other. We decided that we would rather use counseling to help us reinforce our relationship as we hit small bumps, rather than as a crisis intervention after things explode and we’re looking at wreckage.

We see the same therapist as individuals and as a couple, and while it’s taken some adjustment, it’s been one of the best things we’ve done.  With the help of some friends, we found a great therapist that is of like Spirit, and is helping us reinforce and enjoy our marriage.

While we were researching fertility clinics, we noticed that several required so many sessions of “infertility counseling.”  The clinic we ultimately chose did not require this, but the more we thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea.  This whole journey of chronic pain and infertility stirs up so many feelings of inadequacy, hurt, self loathing, anger, confusion, depression, constant frustration… And that’s just on my end.  Mister is dealing with his own feelings of helplessness, frustration, depression, and the stresses of being our provider.  

There is a lot of feelings swirling around in one house.  We aren’t perfect.  We don’t always handle conflict or differences of opinion in the most respectful way.  None of that was going to get any easier as we get closer to purchasing a vehicle (done), surgery (done), physical therapy (in progress), purchasing a home, IVF, and a crazy busy season with both of our jobs.  Marriage counseling was not an admission of defeat for us, but rather a proactive defense against the attacks we know are coming.  

For a long time, I assumed marriage counseling was only for the “really rough” marriages.  All the stuff that seems to be crisis-centric. I also assumed that I would never do IVF.  I assumed I would be a teacher, and never a small business owner.  I was wrong about a lot of things.  Therapy is not something to be ashamed of, it doesn’t mean we’re broken.  I means we refuse to be broken by our circumstances.  As difficult as it is to talk about the inter workings of our relationship, the ugly, the hurt, the parts that no body else sees, it’s worth it.  

If marriage is hard, life is hard, and you are seeking counseling, I applaud you, and I blindly and silently encourage you.  Crisis or not, you are fighting against circumstances that seek to break your commitment, and it can be a lonely battle.  If you are managing without therapy, bravo to you.  That doesn’t mean your marriage journey has been a cake-walk, just a different walk, in different shoes, made by different people.

We are committed to enjoying our summer together.  We’re running a 5k together.  Mister is teaching me a lot regarding the studio side of his photography.  Our small business is growing.  We’re both excelling at our “real” jobs.  We have put a date on our focus on fertility worries and concerns, and until that date, it is not a central part of our lives.  We’re spending time with some of our most favorite people.  The next couple of months will be fun, relaxing, and not a giant stress ball of a science experiment.  

Do I hope that is summer brings us news of an addition to our family?  Duh.

Will I be sad if that doesn’t happen?  Probably so.

Will we be ok, regardless?  Yes.

The Almighty brought us to one another (through Southern Miss football, a newspaper, and sorority sisters), but we wake up and make a choice each day to be married.  To mirror the love of Christ to one another, no matter what our circumstances bring, no matter if the other one’s being a total grouch (sometimes this is an hourly choice, I can be a real Cranky Pants).

Here’s to Team Bush’s summer of fun!  May we come out of this season more satisfied in our marriage and our God than ever.

Big Plans, Set Dates

Hurry up and wait.

That has been our lives, it seems, since Christmas.  Lots of waiting.  Waiting for phone calls from doctors, waiting for paperwork, waiting for insurance,  etc.  We’ve still got some waiting to do, but there’s now a light at the end of the tunnel.

Excision surgery is set for April 16th in Atlanta with the Center for Endometriosis Care.  A plan of procedures has been made, my employers have approved the necessary leave time, and our insurance companies didn’t laugh at us.  I will be having a cystoscopy, hystroscopy, laparoscopic excision of existing endometriosis, hysterosalpingogram, and a presacral neurectomy.  

Those are all great big med school words, and I had to google the last two.  As big and scary as it sounds, it will be three small incisions to get in, all of the major work happening under the skin. Two of these procedures are necessary for us to start IVF, so it’s nice to go ahead and knock those suckers out on one operating table.  One of these procedures (presacral neurectomy) is actually the removal of the presacral nerve, as it originates from the base of the spine, splits, and wraps around the uterus.   This is admittedly the more invasive procedure.   My current OBGYN in Hattiesburg once told me that my body was actively having contractions, just like labor contractions, every week, dealing with and trying to process the abnormal growths of endometriosis.  He jokingly told me that labor would be a breeze for me, and then wisely moved out of arms reach, lest I go to swinging.  The removal of this nerve will eliminate the pain caused by these contractions.  In that same thought, a side effect is that I may not feel contractions (that actually bring about a baby) should I get pregnant.  As I sit here towards the end of a really hard and painful week dealing with endo,  I just can’t be mad about that.  Contractions for years, with no baby?  Pretty sure I’ve earned it.

April 4th, I will be running my last half marathon with rampant and unchecked endo.  I’ve run the distance before.  I’ve run this exact race before.  This race, however, will probably be an emotional one.   It will hurt, it won’t be pretty, and it sure won’t be fast.  It is the most ladylike way I can think of to give endometriosis the middle finger.  Will I be cured after this surgery?  No.  I will always live with, always fight this disease, until the day the Almighty calls me home.  There is no cure.  Yet.  The best I can hope for is remission, until the day they find a cure.  If I can run my halfs and finish my full marathon with is disease in full force, unchecked and running amuck in my body, I just might be able to fly in remission, sans pixie dust.


Another big date has been set, and an appointment has been made.  We have our initial appointment to start our first cycle of IVF on June 1st in Jackson.  My wonderful doctor moved clinics on me (just across town), and joined another FE.  With that move came a few new nurses and staff.  I was wary, because I’m very emotionally attached to my IUI nurses.  I don’t just ugly cry in front of anyone, and “concentrated lady feelings” come with a lot of ugly cry.  They reassured me they were still there, there’s just more of them.  Since he has joined up with another doctor, their pricing structure has changed and is actually more affordable than we were initially planning.  Medications will be ordered, our wine shelf will again become the “lady feelings and needles” shelf, more awesome band aids will be purchased, and the ovarian stimulation will begin on June 1st.

So far, these two things have been just a concept.  Now, they are hard dates.  I can count down to this, look forward to this.  I know that I could wake up on April 17th and be well on my way to remission.  By the end of April, there’s a good chance that I will be virtually pain free, with every organ system south of my rib cage functioning properly.  If my prognosis is as good as it’s expected to be, we could be parents to itty bitty blobs in Petri dishes by June.   I could ugly cry just thinking about it.

I have hurt for 15 years.  I’ve gone to school, gone to work, gone to church, gone running, and lived life with this for more than half my life. Not because I’m brave.  Not because I have a high pain tolerance (that’s something you develop out of necessity, in my opinion).  Not because I’m “handling this well.”  Because this has been my life, and it has to be handled.  I can’t ignore it.  I get up and deal with it, because that’s what I have to do.   This isn’t the way most little girls imagine how their family would come to be, but I am already seeing God be glorified in the process.

We do have some specific things we covet your prayers for:

  • Preparation for surgery:  Finacially, that we would use what God has blessed us with wisely; physically, that I can maintain a healthy weight up until surgery, as I will likely lose a good bit immediately afterwards, and that all surgery prep will go smoothly; emotionally, that my pre surgery anxiety will be replaced by His peace.
  • Procedurs will be uncomplicated, go as planned, and nothing extra be needed.
  • Healing will happen as planned, with no complications, and I will be able to return to work and life on schedule
  • REMISSION
  • Safe travels:  Mister and I, along with my parents and my sister, will be in Atlanta for 5 days.  It takes a village, and God gave us a good one.

We still have a long way to go, our journey is far from finished, but our God goes before us.  Sometimes he is a cloud, sometimes he is a pillar of fire, but His presence is always known.  We are His, and He knows our babies’ birthdays.