sutton016

When talking to friends, family or pretty much anyone on the subject on my fertility issues, I sometimes feel like my answers are ones I would give if I were being interviewed on Oprah. They are well-written responses that have been given careful thought in what I want to convey. It would go something like this: OPRAH: You’ve been trying to get pregnant for two years with no success. Do you ever think ‘Why me?’ ME: That’s an excellent question Oprah! Sure, there have been moments where it’s frustrating but the more I’ve dealt with this, the more I realize that there is no logic to it. It’s an issue many women struggle with and the only thing to do is to think positive and move forward. Incidentally, can you loan me $10,000? It’s not that the above answer is bullshit (especially not the part about asking Oprah for money) but if I really said what I’m thinking and feeling on the subject of my infertility (which changes on an hourly basis some days), people would think I’m either insane...

I’ve wanted to write this particular blog entry for a while but I couldn’t figure out how to avoid it sounding like a LIFETIME movie. It’s not that I don’t enjoy their “Made-for-TV” movies. The Betty Broderick Story featuring Meredith Baxter is a personal favorite of mine. I just don’t want to be make it so touchy-feely, estrogen laden that you’d all get yeast infections from reading my entry. I also don’t want to be over-the-top and come off like Lou Gehrig’s speech at the end of THE PRIDE OF THE YANKEES. “ Today-ay-ay… I consider myself-elf-elf… the luckiest infertile in the world-world-world. ” Here’s the thing though: Even though I would never have elected to be part of the infertility crew, I really, truly, genuinely am grateful I’ve gotten to connect with so many generous, kind, thoughtful, amazing, funny human beings. In the last couple of months in particular, I’ve received so many acts of kindness that despite going on my third invitro, being financially strapped, still proces...

I’ve spent most of the morning thinking of titles of infertility themed Disco songs. Why, you may ask? It could be one of two reasons: 1. I like annoying my husband by singing, “Someone Left the Clomid in the Rain”. 2. I’ve gotten some funk back in my life. Who am I kidding? It’s both. This past week, we went to see a new doctor for what would be our third opinion. Whenever I think of the word “opinion”, I always think of the quote, “ Opinions are like assholes. Everybody's got one and everyone thinks everyone else's stinks. " I love and hate this quote. I love it because it reminds us that an opinion is just that: a judgment call by one person that you can either accept as truth or reject as subjective. I hate it because it makes me think of people’s assholes and that’s an image I could do without. Just as a brief recap for those who are new followers of my blog: I’m a writer and sometimes stand-up comic who has been trying to get pregnant for exactly two years. We have...

Last week, I emailed the clinic we’ve been working with about IVF #3. For the record, I never thought I’d ever need one invitro let alone three. My reproductive saga appears to have become a trilogy: Lord of the NuvaRing. The subject line of my email was “IVF Financial Breakdown” and it was to inquire how much a third invito would cost since this time, we would be completely financially responsible for it all. Oy, I say. Oy. I received a response that said sonograms, doctor visits, retrieval and transfer would roughly be around $11,000. If we did ICSY, which the doctor already told us we’d have to, that would add on a little over $2000. Then, there’s the cost of all the medications and anesthesia. The more I read, the more I realized that what I wrote in the subject related more to my impending emotional state. I was on the verge of having an actual IVF Financial Breakdown. We have been putting money aside for awhile now but we estimate that we’re still $5000 short. The more I thought ...

It was March 2009 that I started trying to get pregnant. I had no idea when I began this journey that my “two week wait” would become two years. What’s worse is these ‘two week waits’ are feeling more and more like they are terminal. It’s like I’m in a permanent state of waiting to see what happens next and I hate it. I don’t even like to wait on the line for Starbucks. I want my latte and go. When it comes to having a baby, it’s the same kind of thing: I just want to get pregnant, have my baby and get on with my life. (Not that I mean to compare a baby with a latte, although let’s face it -- both keep you awake.) In my early months of trying to conceive, I’d get discouraged and maybe a little down from time to time. However, after trying to get pregnant for two years and after having two failed IVF’s (my own version of the “terrible two’s”), I can’t help but think, “Wow. This REALLY is bordering on a total disaster, huh?” And when you have no reason for the lack of success, no diagnos...