Today, this blog (such as it is) turned a year old.

More importantly, this was egg retrieval / conception day one year ago too — the day our beloved Emerson came into existance.

Amazing. How different life is now.

On reflection, I still think our going through IVF (the good, bad, and ugly) was one of the greatest experiences of my life. It has given me a greater appreciation for the gift of having a child. It’s something I will never take for granted.

I recall–and hope to always remember–the shear majesty of it all, especially the embryo transfer. For me, it was sublime and life affirming. In short, it was a miracle (this from a a lapsed Catholic / secular humanist / Christian agnostic)… made real before my eyes.

Everyone should be so lucky.

It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything here.

Honestly, I’m too busy living life these days to have much time to write about it.

Overall, all is well. E continues to grow, learn, and thrive. She’s a very good baby. Last month, we all went on an overnight trip down to Sarasota (as well as L and I spending an overnight in Orlando alone another weekend). Both mini-breaks went off without a hitch.

L has finished her maternity leave and started back to work at the beginning of this month. That was a little hard on her, but it is made much easier by the fact that my mother is providing E with all of the love and attention she needs during the day.

Last weekend, we celebrated Mother’s Day. This was very emotional for L (not surprisingly), as one year ago she was in the midst of stimulating for IVF cycle #1 and now she’s a mommy (and an excellent one at that). She’s really taken to motherhood, and she’s clearly grateful that we’ve been so fortunate to have E.

Harley (our doggie son) has continued to have medical issues… the diabetes and stomach issues have been resolved, but now he’s got eye problems. We’re trying to heal an ulcer in his right eye. After that, he’ll need to have cataracts removed in both eyes — all told, I think his medical bill totals will break into five figures. Good grief. But, we don’t have the heart to give up on him, because H is still a happy and loving little dog.

Finally, for your viewing pleasure, here are a few recent pics of the kiddo:

Too cute, I say!

I’d planned on writing a post-Christmas summary of what’s been going on in Babyland.

However, I read something yesterday from our online friend and fellow blogger Myndi that simply broke my heart. She suffered a miscarriage on Dec 23. As a small sign of solidarity and in respect for her mourning, I’m going to defer further baby-related updates until after the New Year.

I was very shaken by this turn of events. Indeed, I cried (literally and which, frankly, surprised me) after reading what had happened and could hardly bring myself to tell L (who was also shaken and moved by the news). I’m not sure that I would have been more upset had Myndi been a friend in “real life” or even had she been a sister (of course, I’m an only child — so there’s really no way to know). Then again, our online IVF community is—in many ways—not detached from “real life”… indeed, I speak more of these matters to you (all two…perhaps three now… of you reading these posts) than I do to most of the people in the “real world.”

I also can’t imagine what it most be like to go through such a loss. I realize miscarriage is always an “option.” It is, in fact, a natural (if unpleasant) element of the process of human reproduction. Intellectually, I get that. Indeed, that’s one of the reasons why we opted for the shared risk program, which “protects” you by allowing multiple chances until you successfully bring home a live baby from the hospital. Yet, I also realize—now more than ever—that the program lacks any sort of emotional shared risk. And, that can be a far heavier burden to carry.

So, I find myself feeling sad about Myndi’s loss, grateful (and a bit guilty) for our good fortune, and really hopeful that things work out for Myndi and PB in the near future (as well as continue to run smoothly for us).

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.

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.