RIP, Dr. Edwards

Today, the man who is credited with inventing IVF, for which he eventually won the Nobel Prize, died at the age of 87 after battling dementia for several years.  If it wasn't for the work of Dr Edwards & his associates, there would be approximately 5 million less humans on earth & thus several million people who would never have become parents.

Having been a part of the infertile community for several years now, I have seen numerous internet friends become parents thanks to IVF.  I have also had IRL friends who have gone through IVF to become parents.  I remember the 1st IVF baby I met who is actually a triplet from her parents' 4th IVF; she is now 11.  Little did I know back then the path my life would take into that of Aldous Huxley's fertilizing room in 'Brave New World' 

But even with this technology available, here I sit, along with so many others, for whom IVF has not produced a child to hold in my arms.  It is not the magic bullet so many fertile people think it is.  And yet, so many of us journey on, cycle after cycle, because it is our only hope.  Dr. Roberts himself never gave up hope: he began his research on what would become IVF in earnest in the late 1960s & stayed with it for nine years before yielding a live birth.

Minorities & infertility

Long, but very much worth watching:



Some thoughts:

While I may not be black, I am considered by some to be a minority due to my heritage, but "look white" to most.  Where I live, there are many people who are "mixed" in the way I am, so it's not something I think a lot about.  However, when I lived in the Midwest, my maiden name was ethnic enough for people to want to put me in a box I didn't necessarily identify with.  I was told "You don't look Latino" on several occasions & it made me wonder what someone like me is supposed to look like (which is a whole other post).

However, my husband is a minority (within a minority in the country of his birth; which is yet a whole other post) with skin that is darker than a good many African American people.  It is not uncommon for him to be asked what he is exactly.  Again, not "black", but as a Dravidian Indian from a backwards caste he also does not fit easily into your standard racial box in the US where Asian can mean anything from someone from Japan to someone from Sri Lanka & everywhere in between.

Being in an inter racial as well as inter religious marriage without the challenge of infertility is still very hard for people to accept.  My doc (even though she's not in practice right now I still consider her to be "my RE") was herself a minority in a minority to the Nth degree (she was Indian by heritage, raised in South America, married to an American Jew, who was herself infertile).  She "got it", by which I mean she understood all the crap (sociological, biological & psychological) we are dealing with.  We are so lucky to have known her.  So many of my fellow infertiles do not have docs with her kind of cultural competance.

In the 3 infertility we have been through with over twenty doctors practicing between them, I can only recall seeing 1 black female RE.  No black male REs anywhere.  And no black nurses, male or female, for that matter.  Between the 3 clinics, there were 3 "Asian" docs: 1 Indian male doc, 1 female Chinese doc & my RE who you could also count as Latino too I guess, though I never asked what she identified as.  I should do that next time I see her.  Yes, the inner anthropologist never truly goes away!  

Anyways...

My doc appeared (to me) to see a lot of Indians; whenever we'd go for an appointment, there was always an Indian couple in the waiting area.  And we don't live in an area with an overwhelming amount of Indians (we live in the suburbs of a large urban area in New England).  They probably went to her because of the cultural affinity.  I don't recall seeing many Indians at the other practices; sure, there were some, but not in the sheer #s she had.

Just going on memory, about 75% of the docs were white males, the majority of whom I am going to assume never experienced infertility firsthand because outside of my infertile doc, I've never heard any of them mention it.  How, then, can they truly empathize with their patients?  And if they are infertile, then why not share that?  I understand the whole self disclosure thing & don't think they have to share their whole "war story" from the beginning, but how else are we to break down the silence of infertility if those treating us won't talk about it?

Planning so often leads to disappointment

Normally I don't steal someone's blog posts, but I felt compelled to copy & paste this verbatim:

There is a baby in my head. He’s the one that I thought I would have someday. His name is Oliver, though my husband and I call him Ollie. I’m not quite sure why the baby of my dream is a boy, but he is. And over the past few months, I’ve begun the process of saying goodbye to this future child, the one that I’ll never get to have. I’ve grieved for him. Now, like with any other loss, it’s time to get rid of all his stuff.

Over the years, as my husband and I have been trying to conceive, I’ve collected quite a collection of “For Future Baby” paraphernalia. I have Beatrix Potter themed nursery decor, some that I’ve bought and some that I’ve actually made. I have a plethora of baby clothes that I simply couldn’t resist and got on sale. I have baby blankets and small toys that I bought, pretending that I would use them for future baby shower gifts but knowing that I didn’t want to give them away. And finally, I have gifts given to me during my last pregnancy, before we realized it was ectopic and had to remove it.

All in all, we have a tub full of baby stuff. It’s a tub for Oliver, my imaginary never-to-be child. And even if we should decide to adopt an infant at some point in time in the future, I’m just not sure that I’ll feel right passing these things along to another child.

It is time to say goodbye to Oliver, to my idea of him. To do that, I know that I need to let go of all the stuff I’ve saved for him. I need to say goodbye to the clothes and the toys and the nursery I thought he would inhabit one day.

Trying to find the best way to let go of all this stuff, and subsequently, the baby I bought them for, has proven more difficult than I imagined. Throwing them away feels callous and wasteful. Giving them to someone else feels like handing my heart over to another person. It makes me worried that I’ll always get emotional every time I see that child. They’ll be wearing a onesie or playing with a stuffed giraffe that I thought I would need to use for my own child, and I’ll just start crying over someone else’s kid. I don’t want to be that lady.

Donating my baby gear feels like the safest, most thoughtful way of saying goodbye to everything. I won’t have to run into my own clothes and blankets at unsuspecting moments. I’ll know that it helps a family who needs it. I can feel some sort of good about such a sad ending.

Donating makes the most sense. I’m 99.9% positive that in the next few weeks, I’ll take my tub of broken dreams and donate it to another family that will have a use for it. But I have a sad feeling that I’ll be crying on the car ride, struggling to say goodbye to everything those clothes and blankets mean to me.

Getting rid of all this stuff is the next step in saying goodbye to Oliver, to the child I always believed that I would have. I know that it’s necessary. I know that it will go to help someone else. I still don’t think I’ll make it through with dry eyes.

I see myself in this post in the not too distant future.  The closer our (theoretical) FET cycle with Nemo comes, the more frightened I become of a BFN or miscarriage.  Nemo is safely frozen which means I can still hang on to the baby stuff I do have, which is merely decorations for a nursery.  It's not fair to keep him/her frozen forever just so I can hang onto the 1 shred of hope I have; this I know.  Of course we could always do another IVF, but if 1-3 didn't work, why would a 4th?  But then again why would I have bought the elephant print a few weeks ago if there wasn't a teensy, tiny bit of a thought in my head I could actually become a mother?

The lone piece of clothing I bought a few years ago because it was a penguin onesie on clearance I gave to my sister. Penguins & pandas are kind of mascots among my infertile friends, which is why I bought it.  I kept it in the dresser in our spare bedroom (a.k.a. "still not a nursery") & every once in a while I would take out a sari to wear to temple & see it.  Then one day, I just took it & put it in a plastic grocery bag to give to her because she has a kid & I may never.  I've never seen my nephew wear it & at this point he's too big for it.  But someday she will have more kids.  And my child will never wear that adorable little onesie.

"IKEA" is Swedish for "crack"

I went with my mom to IKEA today.  We go a few times a year; it's only a 30-45 minute drive depending on the traffic.  I try to not go unless I actually need something because otherwise, I spend too much money on things I want but don't necessarily need.  Today, I went to get new slipcovers for my couch & chair using the axcuse that a) they are 5 years old (the original ones we got when we bought the set as newlyweds) & looking warn out & b) I kind of wanted to maybe change the colors since we bought a new house & painted the living room walls.  I was also looking for a floor lamp for Vid's office/man cave which I found as well.  Then, as my mom was looking at frames, I spotted this:

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that my phantom child's room has an elephant theme.  I have an odum chair from when I studied abroad in Ghana, an adorable print of Ganesh & several of these fabric elephant strings from India. We painted the walls in the spare bed room the same gray we used in the living room & I've been on the look out at local consignment shops for a Bombay-style dresser that I can paint a deep red.

So, I bought the above print.  It was ony $12.  And it's so cute.  I just hope it doesn't end up sitting in an empty room for the rest of my life because it's just adorable.  Hell, I haven't put as much thought into my own bedroom that I sleep in every night as I have into the room of a child who may never exist!  Clearly, I need help.

Mother India

Luck o' the Irish

So, hey, it's been a while, huh?  Yeah.  Nothing new to report in the land of infertility here.  Happy St. Paddy's day to those of you who are Irish in blood or just Irish in their hearts!  My mom's side of the family comes from the Emerald Isle & we still have a smattering of cousins there, none of whom actually celebrate this holiday either.  Since I don't like beer, I'm usually the designated driver for all activities related to the day but my parents left for Florida this morning & my sister now has a kid so for this year at least, we are no longer the family that drinks together.

Anywho, I booked a trip to Ireland when our tax refund got deposited into the checking account on Friday.  So excited!  We'll be there once the semester is out; basically, the week before Memorial Day.  We'll do some exploring on our own & hang out with relatives as well, all of whom I haven't seen in person in over a decade.    Vid is obsessed with going to Enya's castle.  We shall see; it's way up north in Donegal & my people are in the south west of the country.  Once we get back from The Old Sod & Aunt Flo shows it'll be FET time (in theory) come June.

I say in theory because a lot hinges on what happens with my mother-in-law.  Almost 4 years post-bone cancer diagnosis, she is still alive, but opinions vary on for how much longer.  Vid is heading over to India for 2 weeks on Wednesday to see exactly what is going on since his parents are the worst communicators on the planet.  I won't get into the drama (trust me, there is much) but this is not a trip he is looking forward to making for many reasons.  We've discussed it & I'm really not comfortable cycling again while she's still alive because when she does pass, my father-in-law's lack of coping skills will mean my husband will have to go over there again to deal with the aftermath of her death.  I know that sounds terrible, but we both agree that we don't need the added stress while cycling with our only frozen embryo.  And Vid has told me nay times recently how he "just wants it to be over", for her to pass on, for everyone's sake.  Of course that won't solve the issue of my father-in-law thinking his kids just need to obey him like they are 5 & everything will be ok,  but baby steps, right?

So, that's the plan for now.  Hopefully the luck of the Irish shines upon us!  May Vid have a relatively drama-free trip to India.  May we have a blast in Ireland.  May my mother-in-law pass quickly & in as drama-free a manner as possible.  And may Nemo make his/her appearance around this time next year as a happy, healthy baby.

How safe are your fertility drugs?

Do you ever think about the safety of fertility drugs most of us spend hundreds or thousands of dollars on?  I'm not talking about the whole "ZOMG IVF = CANCER!" thing (which is still not proven either way), but the conditions under which they are compounded, mixed, etc.  Honestly, I never did.  

Then I saw this in the news:

"Village Fertility Pharmacy announced Sunday that it had recalled several compounded medications shipped over the past three months, after the contamination discovery.  State health officials issued a cease and desist order on Feb. 20, prohibiting the company from making sterile compounded drugs, pending a state and federal investigation."

And then this a few days later:

"The Rhode Island Village Pharmacy at 1 Commerce St., and pharmacist Elise Varkonyi both received summary suspensions for violations that included mixing drugs without a proper ventilation hood, failure to monitor surfaces and the air for microorganisms and mislabeling drugs made in Massachusetts as having been made in Rhode Island."

Lovely.

This is where my PIO came from which was part of the recall.  And now I wonder if we even had a chance with IVF #3 given all of this.  A friend of mine who was undergoing her final donor egg IVF around the same time I was cycling also got her meds from these guys.  She miscarried.  Were we both doomed from that first shot?  I'm so angry for every fellow infertile wondering those same things about now.