I’ve discovered that while men don’t seem to generally want to talk about infertility when they’re in the midst of it, they seem to positively gush out details after they’ve successfully had children. In the past couple of weeks, I’ve heard all sorts of stories related to infertility, miscarriage, and childbirth.

These same men are also really willing to “tell their stories” about fatherhood. I’m going to start recording some of the more interesting observations and experiences here (after making them anonymous). I’m particularly interested by their willingness to share the raw emotion (good and bad) associated with these experiences.

In other news…

We spent some time this weekend getting ready for the trip. L was struggling with packing, because some of her clothing is starting not to fit properly. Due to her now more ample cleavage, many of her tops are either 1) actually too small, or 2) simply looking too good on (if you know what I mean). Pants are also becoming a struggle, as she doesn’t like anything too tight. It’s a challenge…

L is going for her next OB check-up this week. I’ll make sure to post details on it.

I’m headed to Washington DC tomorrow.

Tags: Life, men and infertility, Pregnancy, Travel

I’ve been away from the blog for almost a week. It’s been very hectic. L (and the baby) continue to do well.

What a whilrwind! Starting last Sunday, I traveled to Minnesota for an early morning Board of Directors meeting. On Tuesday, I was officially named a Vice President of the information technology company for which I work. I then flew to Washington DC for meetings today and only got back home well after midnight tonight.

Next week, I’m headed back to Washington (Mon-Wed). I then return home, pick up L, and then we’re off to Alaska on Friday for a 7 day cruise. Interestingly, we got a call from Holland America to upgrade to a deluxe balcony suite for only a couple of hundred bucks extra… so, I jumped on that chance!

This pleased L and thus conforms to my policy: what the pregnant lady wants, the pregnant lady gets.

I’ll write more over the weekend.

Tags: Life, Pregnancy

Now that we’re “out of the closet” so to speak, we’ve been telling friends and colleagues about our joyful news. In most cases, we haven’t mentioned the IVF, primarily because it just doesn’t come up. (I think twins might have yielded more baby-making related questions.) Of course, in a few instances, we’ve discussed our difficulties and the associated treatment, assuming people wanted to hear.

That said, I have one friend who I’ve avoided telling until yesterday.

Let’s call him “Bob.”

A few years ago, Bob was in town on business, and we met up for dinner at the world famous Bern’s Steak House in Tampa. We had an enjoyable meal and had moved onto the dessert room for dessert (surprise) and an after-dinner drink. Somehow the conversation moved on to children, and Bob confided in me the struggles he and his wife had had in TTC. At this time, L and I hadn’t even started TTC yet nor was I anything that even remotely resembled an expert on matters of infertility. So, I just patiently listened to the tale of woe, tried to remain sympathetic, and generally kept (thankfully based on what I’ve now learned) any stupid suggestions or opinions to myself.

Bottom line: after much treatment, Bob and his wife were not going to be able to biologically have kids.

Fast-forward to this week.

I had to tell Bob about our struggles and success (I only see him semi-regularly, but I couldn’t keep a child a secret for the rest of our lives). So, here’s what I said (after making small talk about other “news”):

I have some other news as well. After some unexpected challenges and then associated medical intervention (which I know you’re all too familiar with as well), L and I are expecting a child. She’s due in early February. Needless to say, we’re thrilled and excited by the prospect. We’re also extremely grateful for our good fortune in a way that I don’t think is possible unless you’ve struggled.

Seemingly, he took it very well. He offered me his congratulations and seemed to appreciate my sense of tact, saying something to the effect of “dealing with the emptiness is hard for us.”

Yeah, I know, my friend. Believe me. I know.

Tags: In Vitro Fertilization, Life, men

Today was a mildly momentous day: L stopped taking progesterone.

She’d been on PIO shots until a couple of weeks ago. At that time, she switched to Crinone 8% (which is really expensive but fortunately was covered by our medical insurance because it was pregnancy and not infertility related). As a result, the past few weeks have been far more comfortable… and I’m no longer a nightly “pain in the ass” by administering shots.

All told, we probably have something on the order of $1000 in unused pharmaceuticals and supplies (extras from during and/or after the IVF cycle). At some point, we’ll need to dispose of them. For now, we’re keeping them around as a kind of “military surplus” in our War on Infertility, though we hope to live in peace from this point forward.

Tags: In Vitro Fertilization, Pregnancy

Tonight was interesting. I’m sort of exhausted by it all, but I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version:

After dinner, I developed pain in my chest that started to escalate quickly. Within a matter of moments, I felt like the better part of my chest and upper abdomen were burning. My pulse quickened and my breathing became more rapid. I started to FREAK THE FUCK OUT!

This made the symptoms worse.

Thoughts raced through my head: “Holy shit! Am I having a heart attack at age 32?”

Back-story:

For the past couple of years, I’ve suffered from a mild to moderate anxiety from time to time… mostly when traveling (planes, cars, ships… ironic, I know – as I travel often for work and LOVE TO TRAVEL for pleasure). On two occasions that I can recall, I’ve previously had what one might call “attacks.” In response, I had a full medical work up (which checked out fine, though I could stand to lose a few pounds) and was given anti-anxiety medication to use (my “crazy meds” for flying). In general, these “attacks” haven’t been a big deal.

However, tonight was different! Far worse than any previous attack. And, I was (in case you missed it) FREAKING THE FUCK OUT!

I took some Roll-Aids (indigestion?) and my Crazy Medication (because I’m crazy?). But, nothing helped. I was pacing around the house like a maniac with a (so I’m told by L) “wild look in my eyes.”

In short, I was quickly becoming completely unglued.

I finally told L to drive me to the emergency room. However, I couldn’t stay seated in the car. My anxiety level was so high, I was pretty well convinced that I was going to crash en route to the hospital and die in L’s Jaguar somewhere on the interstate! (Yes, I know… this is crazy talk).

So, I got out of the car, went into the house, and called 911 for myself!

The next few minutes were a blur as I was trying to explain to the emergency service operator that a) I might be dying, but b) I’m also likely just crazy. I remember apologizing a lot. And, pacing around… waiting for the cavalry to arrive (for what seemed like forever).

Eventually, a fire truck and ambulance pulled up outside of the house. At the sight of help, my symptoms started to subside. I greeted the EMS professionals at the door. “Hi, I’m the patient.” More explanations, profuse apologies, and some tests (pulse, oxygen saturation, blood pressure, EKG). The paramedics were really great. And, I was feeling even better.

We made the decision to not send me to the hospital. The paramedics seem to think that I have (in addition to panic disorder) gastroesophagial reflux disease (or GERD). And, that the GERD might be a trigger for my occasional anxiety attacks. This all seemed plausible (and “confirmed” later by Dr. Google – this article was especially interesting on this topic). After more apologies and thanks on my part, the paramedics departed, and I returned to pretty much a state of normal over the next 30 minutes.

So, I’m not dying. However, I am: embarrassed by my irrationality, sorry for having caused L stress in her “condition,” and simply thinking that I might just be (going) bat-shit crazy. Oh yeah, and I seem to be prone to reflux.

All of this will get to be confirmed by my primary care physician (and associated specialists) starting next week. This has been one hell of a year, medically speaking (between L’s infertility treatment and my earlier broken leg – another story for another time).

Good grief!

Tags: Life