Headed to Germany (and the reason why)

Connie's arrival could not have come at a more perfect time. I am going to be taking the rotator, with Abigail, to Ramstein Germany very soon. (As always, I don't give exact dates on my blog.) I will actually be going back to Landstuhl hospital, where I had Abigail over a year ago, to get a specialized ultrasound done that they do not do on the island.

The reason: IVF #5.

I wasn't sure I was going to write about this on my blog. But I guess I am. I just decided to about four seconds ago. It's on my mind. And when something is on my mind, I write about it. Avoiding writing about what is on my mind is almost painful to me. I think that's why my blog is so honest (and sometimes vulnerable.) I have to say what is there.

And right now, what is there is IVF.

IVF. Again. Our fifth try with IVF to be exact. We are going back for our embryos in December.

So to answer the questions I can picture floating around on the back of your tongue.

Why now? Well why not. When is it a good time? No time like the present. In short, I am 35. Not getting any younger. We don't like having them "in limbo." So we decided to go for it. In the end, we just feel the Lord saying, "GO!" and so we shall go.

Will it work this time? No idea. No one can know. No one can know whether my issue, previously, was something related to our embryos or whether it was something within my body that has now corrected itself. In speaking with Dr. Coddington, who was my doctor for most of my infertility journey and who is still at Mayo, my embryos look "excellent." This was confusing to me because I had been under the impression, previously, that they were not very good. But he said he is not sure where I got that information from. That he feels that they look great. He felt confident that our chances of this working were as good as anyone's and there was no telling whether our previous failures would be repeated.

Can you deliver on the island? No. Just like Turkey. I'd have to leave the island for delivery. Not something I enjoyed the first time. Not something I'd want to do the second time. But who even knows if I'll get to that point.

Are you actually ready to add another child to your brood? No. Not really if I am honest. I had three kids three and under. Now I have three kids four and under. I don't feel quite ready. But we have Connie here. I am 35 (which is considered 'advanced maternal age.') We are fully committed to those embryos. We feel we must not forget about them. We are following the Lord's leading.

How many embryos will you transfer? The answer is: 2. Protocol has changed since I went in for my first four IVF's, the last of which was in the summer of 2007. They will dethaw all 7 of our remaining embryos and attempt to get them to grow further outside of my womb but in the lab. Some may die. Some may live. But these embryos, because they are fully developed, have a better life expectancy inside the womb. So Dr. Coddington recommended transferring no more than 2. Not 3 like I did during our last try with IVF. So two I will do. Any embryos past the number 2, can be refrozen for another try at a later date.

How do you feel? Am I nervous? Yes. But this time, not so much about it not working but about the memories. Going back to that clinic. Going back in that ultrasound room. In the operating room. Blood work. Ultrasounds. I'm not really afraid this time of it working or not working. We have three children, and if this is all the family I have, it's a great amount of family for me. But I just don't want to think about that dark place I was in for five years. I don't want to remember all the tears.

In infertility circles, a negative is referred to as BFN "big fat negative." I started thinking about what our infertility entailed and the best I could come up with was:

1. 8 months trying before seeing doctors due to no ovulation -- BFN x 8 (although these didn't result in a phone call to be told the cold, hard facts.)
2. 3 failed attempts to ovulate on clomid -- BFN x 3
3. 2 negative IUIs (artificial inseminations) -- BFN x 2
4. 2 cancelled IUI's -- BFN x 2
5. 1 year on metformin but no other treatments (ovulated twice) -- BFN x 2
6. 1 cancelled IUI/permitted to try on our own -- BFN x 1
7. 4 IVF transfers -- BFN x 4

So that equals 22 times total ... 14 times that we had to have someone call us and tell us (or we found out ourselves) that things did not work. I also thought I would try to estimate how many pills, shots, and doctors appointments this was but quite honestly, I do not even know how to begin to calculate those numbers. I'll just say that from the best I can estimate, I have probably had upwards of one hundred internal ultrasounds. But that is such a crazy guess. I have no earthly idea.

But it's time. We've been on the phone with Mayo quite a bit in the last two weeks getting all the details established. There's lots to figure out. For now I know that I have to get some fancy ultrasound done before I go, and they don't do it on the island. So to Germany I go. I will take Abigail and leave the boys here simply to split up some of the love (aka "responsibility") a bit. I know I will get to see and stay with Shane & Linda (and their doggie Bonnie) in Germany. What a gift that will be.

We are currently planning on doing the transfer this winter. The military gives any family who does "two continuous overseas assignments" (in our case Turkey and now the Azores) up to 30 days of paid time off. They pay to fly us back to our "home of record" and they allow JB to use his vacation days to go.

So we will fly to South Florida as a family, spend a week, and then JB and I will leave the kids with family in South Florida and go to Rochester, Minnesota for the trasnfer (and get to see old friends like Ron & Ebby, Dave & Lesley, and Jake & Rana), and then we will return to South Florida to spend Christmas before flying back to the island.

I will keep you posted ... of course. Mostly I ask you just to pray for my emotional well-being during this journey. Again, not for the result, but just for the memories of a darker time that I have no choice but to revisit.