Full Disclosure

Whomever designed the Price Medical Building at Abington Hospital is a cruel S.O.B. The offices of Abington Reproductive Medicine are on the 4th floor, and somewhere below that is an obstetrics practice. Which means that anytime I have an appointment to see the reproductive endocrinologist or the IVF nurses, I inevitably encounter at least 2 or 3 HUGELY pregnant women. This is a particular kind of torture for anyone who has ever struggled to have a baby. Which brings me back to the reason why I'm writing about this in the first place.

The last year and a half of my life has been a series of losses. Many of you know what I've been through, but some of you do not. My desire to add another child to my family has brought me to this point. I'm about to start an IVF cycle with 2 cryogenically frozen embryos that were retrieved last fall. These 2 blastocysts were put on ice following an unsuccessful IVF cycle almost exactly one year ago. A month after I received the phone call informing me that my pregnancy test was negative, I became pregnant on my own. Fast forward to March 2010. If you don't know how that pregnancy ended, remind me to tell you sometime. I don't think I want that story floating around in cyberspace.

Throughout this journey, I have openly shared my experiences with others. It has been an amazing catharsis for me. So many people came forward with their own stories of miscarriage, infertility, and loss. I began to realize that I wasn't alone (even though sadness is the most isolating emotion on the planet). Which is why I feel compelled to document this experience. Whether you are a family member who has comforted me while I cried, a friend who has supported me in my grief, or an acquaintance who simply wants to decipher all those vague Facebook status updates, I want you to know what this is like for me. Not to gain your sympathy, but your understanding. I need you to understand why it's hard for me to be around pregnant women. Why I feel a knot in the pit of my stomach every time I see a newborn. Why I may congratulate you on your good news but still feel sadness over what I've lost. I hope to convey this story with honesty and humor. I don't know how it will end. But I hope you will stick with me until the final chapter is written.

Today was my appointment for a baseline ultrasound and blood work. This basically involves me, an IVF nurse, and what I once heard described as the "dildo cam." The purpose is to measure my uterus and ovaries on day 2 of my cycle, so they can monitor everything as my cycle progresses and transfer day approaches. Take my word for it -- there's not much you want to do on day 2 of your cycle, but having a date with the dildo cam is pretty much at the VERY bottom of your list. Nevertheless, everything was normal and I was given a basic outline of how this "cryo-cycle" will unfold. On day 21, I will return to Abington for another blood test to determine whether or not I've ovulated. If so, I will start on Lupron injections and Estradiol supplements. More ultrasound monitoring will follow, and the embryo transfer is tentatively scheduled for December 2nd. Happy Hanukkah to me!

I feel cautiously optimistic, which is all I can be right now. I look into the eyes of my amazing, perfect 3-year-old, and I find comfort knowing that I made him. He is healthy. He is wonderful. And he grew inside of ME. Daniel is a shining example of the GOOD in my life. He is my constant reminder that things haven't always ended badly for me.

Thank you for reading this. Now let's get this show on the road.