The Story of Pickle PART THREE

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Pickle story Part One.

Pickle story Part Two.

I went in to have the blood work and got the results later that day.

Negative.

At this point, I was really starting to lose it. I guess I had smugly thought that since I didn't have any fertility problems, the IVFs would be successful for me. I was obviously very wrong. It was like my body didn't like/want all this high-tech stuff and was rebelling against it.

What was I supposed to do now?

One positive thing that happened was an Internet forum I discovered. It was dedicated to people that had either all boys or all girls and longed for a child of the opposite sex. It was great to talk with others who felt the same way I did and I made some life-long friendships from that forum.

I also learned of a "sex selection" clinic called MicroSort. This was a new clinic that had an almost full-proof method of sperm selection. You could use this procedure in conjunction with IVF--thereby practically guaranteeing that all the embryos would be the desired gender and eliminating the need for the PGD part.

I had convinced myself that it was the PGD that was preventing the embryos from "sticking" so I was excited at the prospect of trying MicroSort. Of course, I had to convince Don, who had totally soured on the idea of anymore high-tech procedures--and who could blame him?

But I had read so many success stories on my forum! I was sure this was the route to our baby girl.

Because MicroSort was conducting a government study, there were rigorous interviews and testing that had to be performed. Point blank--the whole thing was extremely disorganized, to the point where I wondered if they even knew what they were doing! But we managed to get through all the red tape--with a couple of setbacks--and were able to get an appointment.

To complicate matters, there were only two MicroSort clinics and neither were anywhere close to me. I had to arrange a plane trip for the whole family (which we tried to combine with a little sightseeing trip for the kids) and we were able to get the "sorting" completed.

One of the (many) questions they had asked was if I wanted our sample divided and frozen into two samples so we could have an extra if we ever wanted to do it again. I was certain we would never need it, so I said "No."
So onto yet another IVF, this time with no PGD ,and under the assumption that all the embryos would be female. By the time of the transfer there were only two embryos that looked good--we transferred both of them.

I won't drag out another cliff hanger here--the results were negative--again.

It seemed like the end of the road. I wrote about all my disappointments on my "gender" forum and received a lot of great support.

One day, I got an email for one of my friends from the forum. She had a successful MicroSort/IVF and had twin girls as a result. She told me that she had four frozen embryos from the procedure and wanted to offer them to me and Don. Apparently there was such a thing as "embryo adoption." (I told you this was going to get crazier!!) I told her thank you, but it was something that I would need to give a lot of thought to.

Over the next few months we became really good friends--we emailed everyday and shared pictures of our kids. One night, Don and I had a talk about the embryo adoption possibility and decided to give it a try. Because we didn't have to do an IVF (just the transfer part) it wouldn't be nearly as complex. We decided it would be like adopting--only I would get to have the baby myself.

We had to hire an adoption attorney to draw up all the papers and the embryos were shipped to my doctor.

We didn't know the quality of the embryos until they were thawed on the morning of the transfer. None of them were rated "excellent" though a couple of them were rated "good." Because of this, we decided to transfer all four.

I was extra nervous during this two week wait because I also felt a certain responsibility to my friend--I wanted this to work for her too!

Unfortunately, it didn't work. I received yet another negative. The best thing to come out of that, though, was the friendship I made--we still talk every day and we are like sisters!!

In case you've lost track, that was my FIFTH procedure!

Now things really looked hopeless. I was never going to do the PGD again and we stupidly had not divided the MicroSort sample into two--and we weren't going to go through that ordeal again.

But one day, I got a bill from MicroSort that said something about a frozen sample in storage. What? But then I remembered how disorganized they had been--maybe they weren't paying attention when I said I didn't want the sample divided?

I called and asked if they had a frozen sample for us--they did!! This was good and bad news--good, obviously, because we could use it and try again. Bad, because Don had emphatically stated that there would be no more IVFs. But when he heard about the frozen sample, he agreed that we would have to try one more time. How many times had we said that?

This time, I told the doctor I wanted to be super aggressive with the cycle. We ended up with about six or seven embryos with varying degrees of quality and we transferred them ALL. I hired a babysitter so I could literally sit in a chair for two days straight so the embryos could take hold. I wanted to do everything right!

I will conclude the story tomorrow. And if you think you know what's going to happen--you're wrong!!

The Story of Pickle PART TWO

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And click here for PART ONE of the story.

While I was waiting to redo the blood test, I decided to take a home pregnancy test, because I just couldn't stand the waiting. I took it and saw the faintest second line. It was so faint I wondered if I was seeing things--still, I went into the the second HCG test with more hope.

Exciting news when the doctor called! There was enough HCG in my system to show that I was pregnant! It was still pretty low, though, so I was told to be cautiously optimistic and to get another test in a couple of days.

The next test had more good news--the numbers were going up and were doubling, which it what you want to happen! I was VERY excited!!

The protocol at the doctor's office had me going in for a follow-up test every two to three days to make sure the numbers continued to double. When I went in for the next test, I didn't hear back from the office right away like I usually did. I spoke with the secretary and she sounded weird and said that she would have the doctor call me back. I was worried.

The doctor called back with bad news. The numbers had plummeted down to nearly nothing. Of course, there's always the possibility if a lab error, so I was told to get another test, but I had a bad feeling.

In the mean time, I was scheduled to have a check-up with my regular OB and I blurted out out the whole story to him. I was worried he'd be "mad" at me or something (silly, I know) but he seemed genuinely interested in what I had done and told me I was "cutting edge." LOL!

He offered to do an ultrasound to see what was going on in there and the results weren't good. You could see a tiny spot where the embryo had started to grow, but it was obvious that this was not going to result in a pregnancy.

The follow-up HCG tests confirmed that the baby was gone.

So now what was I going to do? The whole business of the IVF/PGD and subsequent HCG testing had been such an emotional roller coaster--I wasn't sure if I could go through it again. And I cringed at all the money we had spent--it all seemed like such a tragic waste.

However, I felt like I knew what to expect now, so maybe I would try it again one more time.

So we started up again with the injections and the ultrasounds and the worrying.

This time, there was strange news right before we entered the retrieval phase--my blood work (I forgot to tell you that I had to go in for blood work every couple of days) indicated that I may have already ovulated, even though one of the injections was supposed to suppress that. I guess if that happens, the eggs are "no good" and there would be no point in continuing with the retrieval.

So the doctor suggested that I just abandon this cycle and not continue with the retrieval. I asked him if he thought any of the eggs might be viable and he said it was a possibility. He said that the retrieval was the most expensive part and that he didn't feel it would be worth it.

I guess I was hopeful that some of the eggs would be alright and, since we had already spent so much on the injections, etc., I told the doctor to go ahead with it.

It was a total disaster. They were not able to get a single egg--the whole thing was a waste of time.

I was pretty mad at myself for going through with it and, to make matters worse, I got this weird condition from over stimulation of the ovaries and (warning--this is gross!) my abdomen filled up with fluid and it was very painful and uncomfortable.

I was miserable.

The last cycle had been pointless, so I decided we had to try ONE more time. Don was getting more and more tense about the financial part of it, but I felt obsessed like I couldn't stop. He reluctantly said we could try again, but he was adamant that this would be the last.

By now, we had the routine down with the injections and ultrasounds and blood work.

So much time has passed since this happened and I can't remember now how many embryos we ended up with. I want to say about ten? But long story, short--all of them were again labeled "abnormal" except for "two normal females."

Once again, I read "signs" into this. I secretly wanted twins and I thought maybe this would be my opportunity! We transferred both embryos and headed off on a summer vacation. My doctor thought the getaway would be helpful and let me relax so the embryos could take hold.

Again, I looked for any signs of pregnancy but didn't feel any. Maybe it's just too early, I kept telling myself. They were two really good embryos, surely one of them would stick?

As soon as we returned from vacation, I headed in to get the HCG test.

to be continued...

The Story of Pickle PART ONE

First of all, be sure to check out my GIVEAWAY. It's good!

As many of you know, I have four boys and a girl. The girl is my youngest and the story of how she came to be is kind of a long, complicated one--so to tell it properly, I'm going to break it down into four parts over the next four days. So "hold on to what you got" (as a crazy bus driver once announced to his terrified passengers--me being one of them). Actually, the full quote is "This bus ain't working right--so hold on to what you got!" I'm already going way off topic--here we go!!

I also want to say here that parts of my story are somewhat controversial and not everyone might agree with some of the things I did--but, please, try not to judge me. Thanks!

Let me start by saying that I love having boys and I was very happy being a mom to four boys. It's just that, I wanted a girl too. This thought was always in the back of my mind, but it never really bothered me or upset me.

I was perfectly fine when I found out (through a test called CVS) that my fourth child was a boy (Gooser). I was just excited to be having another baby!

He was a great baby and I was happy as could be. One morning, when he was three or four months old, I was out for a morning walk with him. It was a beautiful day and a happened to run into one of my very good friends who had two boys and was pregnant with another baby. She told me that she had her amnio and found out she was having a girl.

For some reason I can't explain, something inside of me snapped. I put on a happy face and said congratulations and told her how excited I was--but then I ran home as quickly as I could and just started sobbing. It was a weird and awful feeling and I was full-blown hysterical. I guess all those feelings I had pushed back over the years--over my whole life, really--came up suddenly to the surface.

Don happened to call in the middle of my "episode" and I blurted out everything-- how desperately I wanted a girl. To my surprise, he said that it was OK with him if we had another baby (he had said he was "done" after three, so I was extra surprised!). I can't even explain how happy this made me!

But I only seemed to make boys. What could I do to ensure the next baby would be a girl? I started researching.

While searching the Internets, I discovered a high-tech process called PGD. It's a procedure where you go through in-vitro, then the embryos are genetically tested so it can be determined if they are healthy and also if they are male or female. I realize this is extremely controversial and a lot of people have ethical problems with it--but I ask you to please not be judgemental and just listen!

So we found a place locally that performed this service and we went to talk to the doctor. We didn't really like him and it was CRAZY expensive, so we decided that this probably wasn't the best move for us.

So I continued to research, but I couldn't find anything else out there. I read things about "low-tech" ways of improving the odds to have a girl--but this seemed very hit or miss to me. I really needed a guarantee. Looking back, it's pretty ridiculous that I thought I could get a "guarantee." Of course, there's no such thing!

Ironically, the friend who was having the girl--the one that set off my whole journey--told me that her obstetrician was also an fertility specialist who dealt with many experimental options and that perhaps he could help us.

We met with him and really liked him! The other doctor we talked to had seemed so business-like and cold--but this one was warm and sweet and seemed to genuinely want to help. He understood (and it was really hard to find people that truly understood) how important is was for us (well me, mostly, but Don really did want a little girl too) to have a girl.

He explained the process--which was daunting--it involved all sorts of injections to stimulate the ovaries, then a "retrieval" where you were knocked out with anesthesia, then more injections, etc. so that the embryos could be put back in. We also had to discuss all the possibilities of the embryos--IVF often leads to multiple births, so we discussed how many we would feel comfortable"putting back" and also what we would do if there were any embryos left over.

We had a lot to think about. Was this the right thing to do? Not only was the process very physically taxing, it was extremely expensive, not to mention the odds of it working were not that great. I was so desperate, though, that I ignored all the negatives and decided to go ahead with it.

We had to purchase dozens of vials of medicine and syringes and I had to be injected daily with the ovary-stimulating stuff, plus progesterone which was very viscous and required a giant, thick needle to get the oil through.

Meanwhile, I would go in for an ultrasound every couple of days to see how many eggs were developing. When the doctor felt they were ready, I was given another injection to stimulate the release of the eggs. It was precisely timed so that the "retrieval" (the part I had to be under anesthesia for) would be done at the exact moment of the eggs' readiness.
The day of the retrieval came and I was nervous. The idea of the anesthesia scared me and I was also worried about the number and quality of eggs. I was on the older side when I did this, 36 or 37, and apparently the odds of getting "good" eggs go way down at this age.

When I woke up from the anesthesia, I was told they had retrieved ten eggs. The next step was to fertilize them and see how many embryos would develop.

When it was all said and done, seven embryos developed and would go on to PGD testing. I was getting excited! The possibility of another baby was getting very real.

I was completely shocked when they called me with the embryo report. Six out of the seven were "abnormal" and had stopped growing and the last one was a "normal female."

As surprised as I was that so many didn't make it, I was excited that we had the one left for transfer. I read all kinds of "signs" into it--having only one left no question about how many we would transfer and I didn't have to worry about freezing any remaining embryos.

We transferred the one female and entered the "two week wait."

Those two weeks seemed endless. I looked compulsively for any sign of pregnancy--but I didn't feel any. I was scheduled to go in for the HCG test (that's the hormone that only appears in pregnancy) and I was supposed to get the results back later that day.

I waited by the phone, but when the call came in, the doctor told me that the results were inconclusive and that I'd have to retest in a couple of days. Apparently, there's a margin of error of =/- five points (or something like that) and my HCG test was something really low--like a four. So the doctor thought there was still a possibility and maybe the test was just too early. But he indicated is wasn't looking good...

To be continued...