IVF or bust??

After a Choice Mom-in-the-making wrote to the discussion board about her fifth unsuccessful attempt at IUI, and her inability to pay for the more expensive IVF cycle, women chimed in with supportive words and resources, which we are collecting for the ChoiceMoms.org website.

Here was one strong post of encouragement, reprinted here by permission:

I am so sorry that you are having to see a stupid BFN!!! I hope you will be comforted a little by knowing that you are not alone. Be gentle to yourself, cry all you want, scream if you have to, chuck a sickie at work, and feel free to gorge yourself on chocolate or have a nice big BFNtini.

As far as IVF goes, don't give up hope. If my IUIs don't work (I get six tries with insurance) then I will be in the same boat as you and I've been looking into ways to make it cheaper.

Here are a few suggestions. While not simple or fast answers, they might help you find a way to reduce the cost.

1. Check out the Fertile Dreams website. They give out an annual grant for folks who could otherwise not afford IVF. There are a few other groups like this out there, and many of them seem very couple-focused, but Fertile Dreams is one I contacted and they were really cool about me being single. If your story is compelling and you show that you can provide a great home, you may well be a contender.

2. Look into international IVF. There are several countries that offer IVF for near 1/3 the cost of what it is in the U.S. Shop around and check with folks about the reputation of each place.

3. How about a fundraiser? I know several people who did adoption fundraisers. Why not an IVF fundraiser? If you have a strong community of supporters (church, clubs, family, friends) and rally them to your cause, you could do one of those candy sales or a car wash or rummage sale and make a few thousand that way. There are some organizations out there for this sort of thing too, that help you by providing a non-profit type status so that people who donate to the fundraiser can also get a tax deduction for it.

4. Depending on your age, some IVF clinics will reduce the cost of IVF if you agree to be an egg donor for another couple. Also, I know several people who "haggled" with their IVF clinic and shopped around. These clinics are making profit on their treatments and there is certainly room for them to bring their prices down. I'm a HORRIBLE haggler so this doesn't appeal, but my brother is a haggling genius (I call it the Jedi Mind Trick) so if it ever comes to IVF for me, I'm going to have him haggle for me.

5. Consider doing another IUI with more aggressive fertility meds. When we are older, a lot of the eggos can't get us preggo. If you are willing to agree to a selective reduction, some docs might allow you to do an IUI with greater stimulation.

Editor's note: Choice Mom friend Reproductive Science Center of the Bay Area is one place that is offering a 25 percent discount in 2009 to celebrate its 25th anniversary.

How I went from Thinker to Tryer

Hi, I’m Beth. I'm 30 (and racing toward 31), Caucasian, and somewhat overweight. I am close to most of my big, boisterous family. My mom raised me and my three siblings on her own for much of my life. I live with my sister and nephew, and our two cats. I have a BA in Political Science, an MA in Liberal Studies: Leadership, and I'm working on an AS in Graphic Design. I work full-time as an academic advisor and administrator at the local public university (with 53K students and counting), and I freelance for fun as a graphic designer. I attend a Unitarian Universalist Congregation, and enjoy reading and bike riding in my free time. I live in Florida, but hope to live someplace with seasons later in life. I’m actively trying to become a Choice Mom, here’s my story:

The closer I came to 30, the further I fell into a funk. I like men, I date them, but I haven't found one that I wanted to be with forever and always, and that's what I want out of marriage.

I'm not all that bothered by being single. I like my independence and don't miss the companionship as much as many of my girlfriends do. That's not to say that I don't wish the perfect guy had fallen into my lap and swept me off my overly realistic feet. To be honest, I'm not a romantic, and I'm not even sure I know exactly what it would take to be ready to spend one's life with another person. HOWEVER, I have always known that I wanted to be a mother, hence the deepening funk.

So, I looked around at my little world, and then at the bigger world beyond it, and realized that there are many paths to my goal, despite the cultural story I grew up with.

My aha moment happened one weekend while I was watching TLC just for a ‘good cry.’ I was sad because apparently the condom didn't break and I wasn't pregnant, just another of my famously late periods. I was watching an episode of 'A Baby Story.' (You may have seen it, girl decides to go it on her own, but magically a guy appears in her life and agrees to be the donor and then they get married and live happily ever after?)

Well, setting aside the happily ever after part, I decided that she'd had a fantastic idea! So once I got over the initial shock of 'What will people think?’ I started doing my research.

After this epiphany I made some appointments with my OB, and got on the waiting list for the fertility clinic nearest my home. I intended to get the information and hold onto it for a few years while I saved up a college fund and bought a home, but I didn't get great news. I didn't get awful news, but it was a little surprising to be having problems at 30. After all 40 is the new 30, right?

I was diagnosed with PCOS and borderline insulin resistance. I realize that it could be exactly the same situation in 5 years, or even 10, but it could also progress and make pregnancy very hard to accomplish. So I decided that 'why not now?' was the attitude I needed. And what I found out when I asked, "Why not now?" was that what I really wanted more than anything else right now was to start my journey to motherhood. I have a masters degree, and a stable job, and enough money, and savings, and a good home, and loving family... now is actually a great time.

Fast forward to today. We've learned that I ovulate ever so slowly, but at least I still do. Clomid doesn't work so well, so I am doing stim injections to speed things up a bit and to increase my odds. I will have my third IUI on Thursday, and as always I’m so hopeful and excited.

I'm also open to adoption if this path doesn't lead to pregnancy. I had a child when I was 15, young, stupid, and looking for attention. I entrusted his upbringing to two amazing wonderful people who have given him much more than I could have... so yeah, I'd be happy to be that loving parent for another child. But, I’d really like to experience a happy, welcome pregnancy, and there is just something that seems so unfair about the idea that I might not be able to have children now that I'm ready. There have been bumps in the road, but I believe in my heart I'll get there.

So that's my story.
What's yours?

Hope: the four-letter H word

Just prior to the holidays, a little girl who tends to like to dance in front of the sanctuary whenever our music plays, did a dance that made many of us weep. My favorite Unitarian Universalist minister, Kate Tucker, then got up, still teary, to deliver her sermon about Hope: The four-letter H word.

She talked about people in a conversation circle with her who described their own visions of hope. The person who said we get energy from hope. The homeless man who teaches people trying to finish their high school education. A woman who found hope through infertility to adoption.

Kate said that hope is about reaching out to find the help we need in order to make things happen. Because being without hope -- hopelessness -- is stuckness.

When we reach out for it, hope becomes our partner. We have the choice to sit and hope for something to happen. Or, with hope as our helpmate, we can proactively do a huge amount of work to propel us forward.

With hope, she said, it is not that we are then able to find something/someone who lines up with our pre-selected requirements. But that we are then able to recognize and be released into our own power.

Kate said that hope:

• sees what is possible when others do not;
• can imagine a way out, a way in, another way;
• is active waiting;
• does not yield;
• is the moving current that carries us forward;
• has the power to heal;
• is living in a world where everything -- frozen grass, snow scrapers, warm bed, coffee -- is holy.

I had only an eyeliner pencil in my purse, and used it in place of a pen to scribble down phrases as fast as I could.

Since then, I have seen the power of hope in so many ways. And how dejected and stuck we are without it. I have also seen that it is not an external power that chooses us. It is us who choose it.

In the Trying stage, there are naturally times of fear and hopelessness and despair and impatience. But always around us, available when we want to grab for it, is the comforting, energizing cloak of Hope, the healing, holy four-letter word that can help us realize the dreams that WE set in motion.

Creating a fatherless child, with fear and courage

submitted by Roni

With one 2ww under my belt (no pun intended), I've already started injecting myself with Puregon (follicle growth stimulant) for the next try and am once again feeling empowered with taking destiny into my own hands--in as much as I have control over it,limited though it may be.

It's been very interesting to see how each of the stages with its own unique experiences brings up so many overlapping feeling states. I realize that going from "thinking" to "trying" to "waiting"(and the time span between the latter two is only about 12-14 days) has no clearly demarcated emotional lines.

I have been more diligent about reading the Choice Mom discussion group digests every day. For a while in my "thinking" stage I would simply delete the mail without opening them because I was unable to make a decision either way and it was too painful to read some of the posts or to be involved with women who were so invested in the process
I felt I'd chickened out of.

I now find myself feeling very validated by what other women are writing, while at other times I feel a bit dismal because of others' pain and suffering and failed attempts. I don't find it to be too much of a hassle or emotional drain going through the technical aspect of the trying process. I find it much more emotionally draining vacillating between my deep desire to have a biological child only to then still feel devastated by the thought of cheating my child out of the father they should, by natural law, be entitled to.

I still struggle with my own issue of being fatherless from the age of 7-15, when my father left for another country with his new family. I try to remind myself that my child will only feel as "deprived" as I project onto him/her from my own experiences. Then I pull myself together mentally and say "right, let's get on with this."

At this stage of things I permit myself to be on auto-pilot because I've made my decision to go ahead with it and that's that. And, I muse, there must surely be women who are pregnant or new moms or older moms who feel insecure with the huge responsibility of motherhood and I assume that is par for the course. Surely no woman -- mom or mom-to-be -- has all the answers.

I try to ride these waves and tell myself "courage, courage." Every great explorer must have fought the butterflies. The excitement and even trepidation of discovery is the reward for staying the course.

When I had my first IUI last month I was slightly nervous about the procedure. After I got up from the table, I was hit by a wave of melancholy. "Will this take? What if it does? I will be a single mom with no huge financial backing and no consistent male figure to offer him/her. How am I going to handle it? Will my child blame me?"

And, of course, the fear on the other side: "What if I can't conceive? Will I be childless? Will I have the emotional werewithal to try donor egg?"

And, over the course of the 2ww feeling, how the hormones affected my body. I was pregnant 7 years ago and because of all the wrong circumstances was forced to abort, so I found myself trying to compare what it was like then to what I was feeling now.

Then waking up one morning with a clear awareness that I wasn't pregnant because my body just told me so. In a way, it was a relief to finally know and then prepare myself for the next try.

Flowing through the stages has been very fluid, with lots of ups and downs regarding the decision to go ahead with it anyway. Sometimes excited and elated, sometimes pessimistic about my chances to conceive, and/or my insecurities about being a single choice mom.

For now, within the turbulence of my emotions, unlike over the past year of "thinking", I cut myself alot more slack and tell myself I don't have to have all
the answers or know all the outcomes now.

I am just enjoying the ride and I hold tight to my faith that if it be G-d's will for me to have a child, I will do my part in enabling that to take place. The result I, leave to Him.

Dating and trying to conceive

Jessica, 34, reported that after three failed insemination attempts she was also finding herself back on the dating scene. And enjoying it. With a few decent men on the horizon, she wasn't sure if/when, it was time to say "I'm also trying to conceive a baby." She wondered if she should take a break from trying while she dates -- but her doctor says she doesn't have much time left for fertility, with numbers as if she was a woman in her 40s. "It just feels so difficult and unfair to have to be in this position sometimes. I hate the fact that at 34 I am finding my fertility declining so much. If anyone has been in the same position or tried dating while trying to conceive, I would be interested in hearing your stories and how they ended up."

As Joni replied:
I dated a man a couple of years ago. Things didn't work out between us, but in the past few months he called me up and we went out a few more times. He was serious about me and about being in a relationship. I'm 39 and even though my doctor is not worried that I won't get pregnant, I am. In any event, after our 3rd date (the second time around) last week, I told him what I was doing, and that I didn't want to put things on hold with TTC because of my age. I felt like I was being unfair and not completely honest by dating him while trying to get pregnant. I think he needed a drink after I told him. But he understood completely and at the end of it we agreed to stay friends. But we won't be moving forward with the relationship. I just don't want to risk my fertility that maybe he would work out. And he doesn't want to date a woman who is trying to get pregnant without him - can't say I blame him. And neither of us are ready to have a child together. And, ultimately, I want to have a child. The relationship, for me, can wait. The baby cannot.

A new Choice Mom responded:
I decided to defer dating when I was trying. It just made me question my decision and wonder if maybe a relationship would work out. So I stopped. It took a year to get pregnant with my daughter. Now that she is here I can say I really don't miss dating at all. I am not sure I could fit it in. Maybe later when my daughter is bigger. I think what I really wanted from the dating was a relationship leading to a child. Now that I have her the other parts don't seem so important.


Another Choice Mom replied:
While I agree I don't miss dating (who does?), I am still very lonely. My son keeps me busy, but he doesn't take the place of a grown-up relationship. My child fills the need to have a child. I'm still a bit angry and sad that I don't have something for me in this, and with a baby, it's most likely going to be a long time, if ever, that I get there. So if you're dating to find a daddy, you probably won't miss it. But if you're dating to find a mate, that probably won't go away.

What should I ask the doctor?

Posted on Choice Mom discussion board: "So, my question to all of you is: What did you find out that you wished you knew going in? What do I need to be asking?"

Kathy's response:
I wish I had known to ask all of these things, since each has provided me with pause at some point along the process.
1) Are you open on Saturdays and Sundays for monitoring and procedures (IUI)?
2) Who will be calling me with test results and how is this handled?
3) What sperm banks do you allow? (if ADI)
4) What is the process for ramping up? When do you consider that it is time to notch up the variables?
5) What else do you suggest to support this process? (supplements, aspirin, progesterone, yoga, acupuncture, etc.)
6) Can I exercise? What level of exercise?
7) What foods to avoid?
8) How do you handle holidays?
9) How early could you see me? (for monitoring and IUI)

What else should be on this list?

It Actually Happened

submitted by Jeanne

I am 40 years old and began this journey about 10 months ago (when I was a mere 39!). I'd always half-joked that if I didn't find Mr. Right by the time I was 30, then I'd have a child on my own. Well, 30 came and went, and I changed my deadline a few times. I figured Mr. Right had to be out there somewhere, I could wait.

Before I knew it, 40 loomed on the horizon. Yes, my grandmother had had her last two children (out of 10) at the ages of 44 and 46 - but could I take the chance it would work for me? So, at my annual physical, I mustered the courage to talk to my physician about donor insemination. She was very supportive and immediately referred me to the infertility clinic (the wait to get in could be 10 months to a year). I left feeling very nervous about the whole thing, but figured I'd have one more year to get used to the idea.

Well, only four months later, I had an appointment at the clinic. I wasn't sure I was ready, but was too scared to let the appointment go. Long story short, the process began. And three unmedicated IUI's later, I'm pregnant!

I did have time to go through changing my mind 100 times, coming up with new things to worry about, wondering if I was doing the right thing, and so on. But, now I'm pregnant.

I'm very thankful and happy mostly. But every once in awhile all those old fears creep back. Will I be okay financially? Will the child hate me for doing this without a father? And now there's some new worries. Will this baby be healthy? Will I have a miscarriage? Will I have enough support? What will certain people say when they find out??

The difference now is I seem to have more faith in things just working out somehow. I guess I finally realize the worrying is kind of pointless. Besides, all this worrying isn't good for the baby!!