Cycle

Intense Anticipation.

Apprehension.

Hope.

Familiar Feeling.

Unwarranted.

Unwanted.

Emergent Pain.

Strain.

Reluctance.

Blood Drips.

Denial.

Disappointment.

Silent Struggle.

Smile.

Cope.

Inward Flow.

Solemn.

Swear.

Start Over.

Wait.

See.

Intense Anticipation.

Apprehension.

Hope.

Familiar Feeling.

Unwarranted.

Unwanted.

Emergent Pain.

Strain.

Reluctance.

Blood Drips.

Denial.

Disappointment.

Silent Struggle.

Smile.

Cope.

Inward Flow.

Solemn.

Swear.

Start Over.

Wait.

See.

Intense Anticipation.

Apprehension.

Hope.

Copyright ©2008 Sarah B. Paquette


************************************************

I wrote this piece feeling utter despair when month after month, my medicated treatments were not working. I'm not sure if I expected some sort of a miracle to take place once I ingested a tiny pill that joggled my brain and made me feel plum crazy all of the time. Clomid was a beast.

I remember posting this poem on a myspace blog and getting a response from someone that said something like "They always say when you let go of the control and realize it's out of your hands is the moment it happens....Relax...." I also remember feeling very angry and wanting to punch something after reading that. Of course, I did not learn my lesson and posted similar entries only to get similar remarks and want to punch things again.

I just heard from Dr. B's nurse. My hCG levels are steadily decreasing...from 659 to 544. I'm to go for repeat b/w next Wednesday. I suppose that I should feel relief that my life is getting back on track, but I'm still very sad about this experience and even now just want to sleep right through it.

To Tell or Not To Tell

When DH and I decided to seek professional help with TTC, I was at odds with myself as to whether I should tell my family about our situation. My parents and I are estranged, so I didn't feel the need to spread the word to them; however, I'm close to my Middle Sister/FIL/MIL/SIL and wanted them to know 'we're working on it.' (MIL keeps asking when she'll have a grandchild...)

I went months before I mentioned anything to ANYONE (including friends) about my treatments. For one, I felt 'broken' ...like there was something wrong with me and it was embarrassing and hurtful. Secondly, I feared that if TTC didn't work out for us, I'd have to explain each and every month what happened. Again, embarrassing and VERY hurtful.

We've been TTC for 2 years ~ only 1 year using meds. Feeling isolated and alone, I finally broke down and had a heart-to-heart with my sister, MIL, and SIL a few months ago. I must admit, I felt SO MUCH better after I explained what was going on. It's still hurtful to keep them posted on negative outcomes (wish things were different 'tis all!), but overall, I feel really blessed to have these people in my life...by chance. Afterall, there have been MANY times through all of this, I really wanted my mother there.

IUI #1 was in Dec. 2008 and the people I told rooted for me. I got a text msg the day of IUI from MIL saying ' Swim, Boys Swim!!!!!!!!' LOL!! Then at X-mas time, my SIL wanted me to open a present a little early. I opened the burgandy velvet pouch and a Goddess of Abundance Pendant with a Moonstone belly (illustrated above) was inside. I cried. again. This time, tears of joy. I never take it off.

Now there is the tragedy of IUI#2. As my hCG levels were steadily rising and we were only privy to the news for a few short days, I was obligated to become a godparent to my newborn niece. We were travelling out-of-state to become a part of her big day, coping with what was happening, while trying to remain calm around family who had no clue. I broke down and told my middle sister, who is becoming a registered nurse, what was going on. I hesitated telling anyone else simply out of fear. Fear that this moment was too good to be true. Fear that this pregnancy would not work out.

I work for FIL so eventually I was under obligation to let him know what was happening to me. There were (2) evil methotrexate injections to be had and aside from wretching my guts out...mentally, I was ashamed and deeply saddened by the choice I had to make. I needed time away...from everything and everyone.

Only this past weekend did I tell my mother and other sibling the news. I do not want people to feel sorry for me and especially say the wrong things (which most people have the uncanny knack of doing, unbeknownest to themselves). I admit. I took the cowardly route and sent each of them a brief email. I simply cannot bear explaining what happened over and over again. It's like reliving the incredibly hurtful moment repeatedly to people who barely know anything about my life in the first place.

Mom did write back. She never calls or visits me. I don't really know why I thought this time would be any different. She said she is going to pray for me and I suppose I should be happy she communicated with me at all. I don't have the heart to remind her I'm an atheist ~ especially now.

*******************************************

I went for b/w and an u/s yesterday and am hopeful that this ectopic experience is over. RE did not see a change in the cyst; however, the fluid that surrounded the tube is gone. My hCG levels declined from the 750s to somewhere around 659 ~ an approx. 11% drop. RE is almost positive, I will not need surgery to remove my tube. I have another appt on Friday to ensure that the levels steadily decrease.

Personally I think he is doing everything he can to keep my inner body intact. I forgot to mention that while we were having a discussion about possible surgery, I asked Dr. B if there was any chance that I could keep my tube after it was removed. After all, it IS mine. He looked surprised ~ and then laughed...and said, "I'll have to ask, but I don't see why not."

Hey. Ya wanna piece of me? ;)

Road to Recovery?

I went for b/w on Saturday and am satisfied with the ambiguous results. My levels were still in the 700s; however, they have not gone drastically upwards. My RE expected the hCG levels to go slightly up after my 2nd dose of the demon, Methotrexate. Apparently, as the drug dispels the placenta cells, they release more hormone into the bloodstream...as long as the hCG did not double or more, RE says that I am in the clear. I am scheduled for more b/w tomorrow and that will determine whether the injections really worked their voodoo magic and I will not need to have surgery to remove my right fallopian tube.

As an aside ~ I will be the first to admit I'm guilty of reinforcing the "American way". I turn my nose at leftovers in the fridge, want to trade my car for something new even though it is perfectly capable and runs rather well, I grow tired of wearing the same clothing over and over again and will buy more when it isn't really necessary. When I was faced with the ectopic tragedy, my first instinct was ~ When can I try again? Not, How will I and my husband mentally fare in the process or How much time will it take to physically recover but How soon can I start over in order to get the results I (we) want? I realized that I have become completely reliant on United States modern medicine to make my infant dreams come true even though realistically the state of our current medical technology is based merely on circumstance not painstaking accuracy. My entire unexplained IF diagnosis has been at the mercy of the "medical arts", not on omniscient knowledge of the female reproductive system. Basically, the outcome has been hit-or-miss the whole time.

If there is anything I've learned throughout this entire IF ordeal is DO RESEARCH and ASK QUESTIONS! Please do not rely solely on your doctor to tell you everything you need to know about your body. Be wary. Read the paperwork. Check the background information on prescribed medications. Be proactive! Get the treatment you rightfully deserve. Refuse to become a number!

This blog post is all over the place and I apologize for that. There are so many thoughts swirling around my crowded head related to this sore subject and even jotting them down does not help to sort through the muck. I'm worried about the outcome of tomorrow's test. I'm anxious to start fresh. I'm willing to do anything for my unborn child. I'm ready to recover from this incredibly bumpy road.

Create Some Drama

This is an ACEO I created last year. I call it "Create Some Drama." It is made using magazine images, paper scraps, gold pigment ink, navy blue archival ink, a plastic egg cut in half, brass ball chain and tiny swarovski crystals.

ACEO stands for Art Cards Editions and Originals. They are miniature works of art. This artwork is 2.5 inches by 3.5 inches ~ the size of a standard playing card. I actually made it on top of an old Queen of Clubs.

This piece has special significance to me as an average woman suffering from Infertility. It was my first-ever IF collage. The inspiration behind its creation was after leafing through a popular celebrity magazine and seeing page after page after page of Hollywood stars toting their children around like expensive leather handbags. It seems having (multiple) children is a fashionable trend similar to those god-awful Ugg boots and skinny jeans every teenager is wearing this winter. Please do not even get me started about Nadya Suleman and her brood of 14.

Anyway, I will post more pieces of my art as time goes by. Never fear, they will not all be IF themed. There's plenty of bird and egg collages too. :)

This is the Song That Never Ends...

...yes it goes on and on, my friend.

Went for routine b/w to check my hCG levels after the demonic methotrexate last week and much to my chagrin, the beta was well into the 700s. Yes, that is correct. Instead of plummeting like they are supposed to by now, they are steadily rising. My doctor says this happens very rarely. Of course, it would happen to me. I usually pride myself on being different from the rest of the masses. Today, I actually prayed that I'd be one of them.

I was prescribed a 2nd dose of methotrexate and was given the injection(s) at precisely 3:00. Now I'm feeling all kinds of ghastly (not gassy!) pressure in my abdomen and just waiting for the nausea to begin. Thankfully, RE prescribed Zofran to help ease its pain and suffering. If only he could prescribe something to erase this horrible memory too.

Magic Beans

Sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible
things before breakfast.
::: Lewis Carroll :::

He bestowed upon me (5) magical circles of hope and softly spoke "Take these and your wish will come true." With that being said, the tiny items fell into the creased palm of my open hand. I closed my eyes and allowed my thoughts to delicately pluck wispy silver lining strands off the thick fluffy cloud of the unknown. It was there, in my mind, that I wove a sturdy blanket of trust with every sacred thread.

Arriving home, I carefully arranged each sphere side-by-side on the counter. I planned to care for them and keep them safe until it was their moment to perform. It was difficult to comprehend how the power within them would set me free from the restrictive binding that held me down for so long. One by one, they don’t seem like much. Collectively as a whole, they are capable of great things. My head swirled with anticipation. These (5) round miniscule objects would furnish what I desired most in the world.

I found inner strength in their presence. Each would dissolve in my system and disperse their charm. My assisted body would react. Nature would then take its course. No time left to wait for a miracle to occur.

I popped the first one in my eager mouth and swallowed hard. My teeth clinked against the glass rim. Cool water carried it way down deep. It was inside.

The magic was now within me. I glowed.

Copyright ©2008 Sarah B. Paquette **************************************************

I wrote the piece above last year when I began medicated fertility treatments. The emotions are still just as tender.

Did you know that methotrexate, the injection given to dissolve ectopic pregnancies, is actually a mild form of chemotherapy? Egads! I wretched my slimy innards out on Thursday night into Friday morning and felt like a dirty dish rag for most of the weekend. I did manage to enjoy Valentine's Day with DH and was able to withstand my nausea long enough to watch Coraline in 3-D. Quite enjoyable! When we got home, DH presented me with petite diamond stud earrings. They are my very first pair and I love them...not as much as him though. ;)

I'm back to work today after a 3 day hiatus and feeling a bit overwhelmed...but it's good to be back and I think I'm ready to start fresh.

Special thanks to everyone who expressed their support. I sincerely appreciate it and look forward to getting to know each of you more. Until next time.................

The Flood

The flood. The flood.

The flood of blood forming a radiant halo of red that surrounds my little angel encased in swollen fleshy pipe. Heaven is right where we are standing and is all you will ever know.

The flood. The flood.

The flood of clear liquid pouring over my puffy pincushion organ, with petite fingers waving and bleeding as if pricked by those needles of sharp steel, comparable to the dagger of his blank stare that pierced my pleading gaze forever implanted in time.

The flood. The flood.

The flood of emotion ~ an outpour of despair, frustration, anger, anguish and regret. Why us? Why now? Why ever? Why me?

The flood. The flood.

The flood of sterile medicine water coursing its way through my bluish veins destined to kill what pulses and grows inside me. I was responsible for creating it and then sweeping it all away.

The flood. The flood.

The flood of tears uncontrollably streaming down my tired face, leaving crusty steaks of sticky salt, forming a death mask, filling my heart with grief as tiny images of what could have been inundate my woeful mind.

The flood. The flood.

The flood is wreaking havoc along its disastrous path, bursting its way through my sacred temple, eliminating any evidence of life within, yet I continually inhabit areas threatened by flood damage since repeated periodic flooding brings me even closer to you.

Copyright ©2009 Sarah B. Paquette


*****************************************************

2/4 - Beta = 112 hCG, 11 P4
2/6 - Beta = 284 hCG
2/10 - Beta = 275 hCG - ectopic pregnancy
2/11 - Beta = 386 hCG - Methotrexate shot

I bent over a cold examining chair yesterday to be injected twice in my upper ass with methotrexate…10 days ago I was told I was pregnant. 2 days ago I was told it was ectopic ~ the baby is growing in my right tube. 2 years of trying…and it finally happens. The wrong way. I was responsible for creating this life and then I was responsible for killing it. Sign here on the dotted line. omyfuckinggod.

I cried heavily throughout the entire process. I tightly grasped my husband's hand. The nurse hugged us afterward. It was over. I went home. The end. Or is it?

I fucking hate infertility. I’m sick and tired of people telling me to relax, that god will answer our prayers, or that maybe if we took a vacation, it will just happen…PLAH! I feel like utter shit and look like utter shit. I missed work this week. I need time to grieve.

Eventually, the sun shining through my window will be welcome. Afterall, we only get this one life to live. And I’ll be damned if I let infertility take over mine completely. Until then...I'm pulling down the blinds.

Spotting! And Not Talking Giraffes...

I woke up yesterday to minor cramping and found a small brown spot in my underwear. I don't know if this is something I should be concerned about? I'm getting really nervous and wondering if this is something that is normal? It just seems like a repeat of last time.

I've been told by DH and countless others that cramping in early pregnancy is normal because the uterus is expanding for the baby. And from what I understand, a lot of women spot throughout their pregnancy and it's not a bad sign. This morning I had minor cramping again and only residual brown on the P4 applicator tip. Right now I feel pretty good inside...considering.

Today is my appt with the RE for u/s and b/w. My appt isn't until 10:30am...I'm gonna go crazy until then! Keeping my fingers crossed.......stick, baby, stick!

******************************************************

My worst fear has been realized ~ Ectopic pregnancy. The baby is growing in my right fallopian tube. The RE could see that it is bleeding. hCG levels are going down naturally (today). Tomorrow if they are still going down, I will be closely monitored and won't need meds ~ if not, I get a shot of methotrexate tomorrow am.

Little Bird Lost

Little Bird, wildly fluttering underneath greasy axles,

Where will you go today?

Large flakes of snow drift down,

Sky gray eminence yields icy penalty for those who venture forth.

Little Bird, seeking shelter in the shadowy gloom,

How do you remain calm?

Patiently awaiting proper shelter from the storm,

The crisp air aching chilly bones in its frigid grasp.

Little Bird, flapping and dancing with freezing wings,

Why so aloof?

So tiny and insignificant in the grand scheme of things,

Polar temperatures could kill yet not a care in the world.

Little Bird, frosty beak chirping sluggishly,

Who is your inspiration?

With gentle tweets, singing sweet in vain,

Sounds drowned out while the crystal flakes accumulate.

Little Bird, downy feathers frozen stiff,

When will you find a way home?

The ominous blizzard hails a solid greeting of what’s to take place,

A tempestuous arctic blast seeks permanence where there is no refuge.

Little Bird, subservient portion of nature,

What is your secret for survival?

Life can be so cold for those with no warm memories.

Shivers and quivers prove futile to keep the spark alive.

Little Bird, your fragile anatomy is all there is

Without question.

Be careful, Little Bird. Wintry weather deems you fair game.

Proceed with caution while taking flight.

Copyright ©2008 Sarah B. Paquette


*****************************************************

2/2 - Beta = 52 hCG, low estrogen/P4
2/4 - Beta = 112 hCG, 11 P4
2/6 - Beta = 284 hCG

I had an appointment for b/w first thing this morning. We got to The Center later than usual. There was some last minute packing to do. We're heading to PA to visit my family this weekend. My niece is being baptized and I am her godparent. I've been looking forward to this weekend for months and now it's finally here. Little did I know that I'd also be looking forward to this day for other reasons as well...My b/w results.

The nurse called at 3:00 with a bit of hesitation in her voice. She seemed scattered and a bit apprehensive as though she were about to wreak havoc on my otherwise "good day." She rambled, I started drifting off and then came the number - 284. We were looking for it to double from Wednesday's reading and it did just that...and a little bit more. Hoorah!

B/w and u/s scheduled for Tuesday, Feb 10th. Hopefully, there will be even better news...until then...I'm going to celebrate with Cran-raspberry juice and sparkling mineral water. Cheers!

sus huevos aquí

"The female body is a very complex organism", said the man in the white coat as he haphazardly pointed to the anatomically-correct diagram of the female reproductive system. "It is a well-known fact that only a small percentage of women can actually get pregnant, contrary to the popular belief that they are as fruitful as rabbits. You see, the process of ovulation is controlled by the brain and through the release of hormones from the pituitary gland. Not everyone can ovulate for one reason or another. We cannot determine why that happens, although we can hypothesize. Fertiliziliation of an egg is an exact science. If something is not functioning precisely, just at the right moment, pregnancy will not occur."

*******

When I was a little girl, perhaps 5 or 6, Nana and Pop-Pop took me to the grocery store during a weekend visit. I skipped along the food aisles while my grandparents made their distinctive selections. The goose pimples prickled the tiny hairs on my arms as we got closer to the refrigerated section. I watched with wide eyes as Nana opened several pink cartons so as to determine which container would hold (12) satisfactory unbroken shells. While seated in the car, Nana placed the rigid styrofoam carton of eggs in my lap. "You're in charge of these," she hissed. "We don't want any of them broken on the ride home."

I cradled the delicate commodities the entire way, watching them intently while Pop-Pop's ol' jalopy sputtered its way to our destination. I could feel their movement as they jostled back and forth. My lips moistened as my tongue moved across them in hunger. I clearly imagined early breakfast the next morning after church...Nana tossing the fluffy yellow yolks in the sizzling buttery bottom of her cast-iron pan. "Sunny-side up or scambled?", she'd gruffly ask. Perhaps MY chosen hen fruit will reveal a double sunny center! Oh, how my tummy growled with anticipation...

As Pop-Pop pulled into the driveway, I smiled. Nana would be so proud of how I sheltered the fragile cargo. With each sudden stop and winding turn, the eggs were always nestled comfortably, free from harm. Nana suddenly opened the passenger door and snatched the package from my hands. I grinned as she carefully opened the lid to double-check their condition. "3 broken!", she snarled as the carton dripped gelatinous goo. "How disappointed I am in you, Sarah. It was such a simple request."

To this day, I honestly do not know how those god-damned eggs got broken. It is an utter mystery to me. I did all the right things and still, my tenacious efforts proved futile. How could this have happened? Was it really meant to be?

*******

Now. 25 years later, seated patiently in a physician's office, I find myself asking the very same questions related to the very same principle objects...eggs.

Illusive ethereal eggs.

Copyright ©2008 Sarah B. Paquette

Baby Steps

So many people, so little time.

Make a decision, knowing there's mountains to climb.

Is it my turn? Am I prepared?

I'm really not sure; I'd say that I'm scared.

Angelic faces, parents aglow,

Cute little duckies all in a row.

One of them here and one of them there,

Can't look away, not meaning to stare.

Booties, frilly dresses, tiny mittens and caps,

Dollies and bum bums and buggies with flaps.

Darling, all-natural organic cotton clothes,

Everywhere I look - sweet button noses, fingers, and toes.

Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies.

Avoiding the topic, stifling my cries.

Please no offense when I tell you it's true.

The incessant inquiries are making me blue.

Put up a front, smile, and nod.

I'm getting quite good at this uncomfortable façade.

Go to the doctor and hope for the best.

I must get some sleep; give my mind a good rest.

Mom had four children, Gram Sophie had three.

Didn't give it much thought, wouldn't happen to me.

Feeling a bit stressed, with not much to tell,

Am I infertile? I try not to dwell.

Should I be concerned? Maybe this isn't for me.

I enjoy my independence; it's fun to be free.

Don't tempt fate, listen to my own advice.

Wish things were different; answers to my questions would be nice.

Blood tests and prescriptions, and check-ups galore.

This doesn't seem right, is there really something more?

31 and counting, so little time.

Made the decision, more mountains to climb.

Copyright ©2008 Sarah B. Paquette

*********************************************************
2/2 - Beta = 52 hCG, low estrogen/P4
2/4 - Beta = 112 hCG, 11 P4

Well, I got some semi-promising news from the RE this afternoon. My beta levels more than doubled this time and I'm advised to stay on progesterone and get b/w again on Friday. I suppose that I should feel more excited; however, I'm not getting my hopes up...in self-preservation mode, I guess.

Egg-Centric

My name is Sarah, I'm 32 years old and my entire world as I currently know it to be ~ revolves around eggs. Their production, their viability, their existence.

My husband and I decided to seek professional help after trying to conceive naturally proved futile month after god-given month. When a clomid/novarel cocktail didn't work after (7) rounds, as prescribed by a so-called advanced gynecology consultant who never had me tested for anything, I took a much needed break from fertility drug InSaNitY. Now, I'm steadfastly embarking on an IUI journey with a little help from my IF friends at The Center.

I have what is known as Unexplained Fertility (THE most ambiguous phrase EVER!) ~ Basically meaning, after testing both my husband and myself, there is no known cause/explanation for our conception trouble. It would be an understatement to say that I've been literally living inside my head for the last year or so with incessant "what if's". Most times, I feel totally insane. I can't stop thinking about getting pregnant let alone BEING pregnant...over analyzing every flutter and twitch in my hollow uterus. I've never been more in tune with my lower body...ever!

Yesterday, my husband and I were seated in our RE's office after failed IUI attempt # 2. I felt only slight cramping 14dpiui ~ took an HPT that morning: negative. Later that afternoon while getting ready for a party, I noticed while washing that my prescribed progesterone vaginal gel was making its way out...YUCK! When I wiped, there was a gelatinous brownish discharge mixed with well-known AF red, so I knew I was out for the count and was glad I went with my instinct and didn't go for a Beta earlier that day...only to be told what I already knew.

The next morning I had barely any discharge - only some brown spotting. I stopped taking the progesterone. 16dpiui there was red all day...but nothing like my normal period. I wasn't sure if I should consider it Day 1 or not because the flow wasn't as heavy...but I did bleed all day. Yesterday at 17dpiui, I had full AF and decided to go the RE for my routine Day 2 u/s and b/w. My uterine lining was thin and I had (2) residual follicles that looked like large bruises on my left ovary. My b/w would determine whether the follies were still producing hormone or not and whether I could start Gonal F injections that evening...gearing up for IUI #3.

A few hours later, I received a surprise call from the RE nurse that my Beta came back as slight positive. My numbers were extremely low ~ I believe she said my hCG level was 54 or was it 45? (Oh god. I don't remember...everything went blurry when she told me the unexpected news). I go back for b/w tomorrow and am not sure what happens after that. I was advised to go back on progesterone. My period stopped.

The nurse made it clear that they do not think this will be a viable pregnancy ...my numbers should be well in the 100s by now, but, as she so pleasantly put it...the good news is: I CAN get pregnant.

I can't really explain the emotional turmoil that is associated with my diagnosis. To take my mind off the inevitable...even for a few moments, I've been getting in touch with my creative side through writing and art collage. It's been my way of venting ~ expelling anger, frustration, and anxiety that has now become a part of daily living.

Never in my wildest dreams (or nightmares) did I ever think I’d be ‘one of those’ people. Nor did I ever believe that I would ever have to cope with this uneasy situation at hand and attempt to handle it the best way I know how. I’m certainly not a spokeswoman on the subject and I don’t care to be; however, this is something that has directly affected me on a daily basis since 2006...Perhaps this blog can somewhat explain what I simply cannot. So there you have it. Hen Fruit is a self satisfying collection of IF musings, current events, poetry, and artwork ~ all created by me.

And so, as the story goes ~ Hen Fruit has officially hatched.