Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Back in the game

Sometimes miracles do happen.  Not often, but they can. Small events are often attributed to miracles. Missing the bus that crashed later that day, stepping out into the street just a moment after someone came screaming by not paying attention, being late only to find out you were there just in time. All of these things at the time seem like great happenstance.

Then there is being offered a second chance for your dream. Free of charge.

Amber and I have counted ourselves so lucky over the last few years. Being together has been a blessing and our friends and family have been so supportive. Meeting our doctor and his entire office was a huge part of our journey. And now this.
There are no words for people like that in the world. Every day common people doing their job and yet so much more. These women (and our Dr.) have gone so far beyond care they have become a part of our family. Between figuring out ways to help us with the medicine we need, and negotiating with other offices now they have taken it one step farther. He is actually performing a frozen embryo transfer for free.

And were back in the game.

If there was ever a way to thank every one who has helped us along the way- I think not giving up is a good place to start. So in September Amber will once again be my hero and do just that. Try again. After our best friends wedding we will have the transfer (after yet another long bout of injections and meds).

Though there will still be obstacles (one we just cleared by finding out there was no scar tissue from the last round and getting the green light) and taking a little bit of time to save up for the necessary meds, we are more than hopeful that the world wants us to try again. So for the thousandth time- from the bottom of our two hearts. Thank you.

Here's to more updates and more good news.
Wishing all of you and yours well.


Sunday, January 29, 2012

Broken Hearts

You spend you life hoping for the best. Hoping not to have to face the moments where your strength is tested. Wednesday January 25th, we saw something no hopeful parent wants to see.  A still ultra sound. The embryo had stopped growing and there was no heart beat.

This journey has taken us from high to low, from down to up and all over again. The gut wrenching waiting, and the expectations that have come along with the process of IVF is not for the light of heart. Amber and I have wanted nothing more than to start a family. We have fought for every thing we wanted since the beginning. Each other, our marriage, and now our baby. There were no guarantees but we both wanted it so badly that we convinced ourselves that hope would take us through. Though this is not true, hope has gotten us through. Hope of another try and of the family around us. Hope of moving on without the weight of the sadness. We have hope. This is what makes the journey tolerable.

Tomorrow Amber will once again endure another procedure. This one to remove the tissue that had developed and start to heal. There is no way to quantify the emotional scars, but the physical healing will start. The doctor will take that tissue and send it away to see if we can find any answers as to why this happened. We might not get any answers. At this point, we have come to terms with that. All we know is that we will do every thing we can to try again, and to continue on our journey to three.

Once again we thank you all for your continued positive thoughts and strength. Despite not being easy we have so much to be thankful for. When our little one arrives we will never take them for granted. Our friends and family have stood beside us, and for that we can never thank you enough.

Until the next update... We wish you and yours the best.  Our hearts and thoughts are with all of our friends who are going through their own hardships.  Even in darkness there is light if you choose to see it.

Friday, January 20, 2012

Patience is a virtue

Amber and I had committed a cardinal foul of IVF. We had gotten our hopes up for an appointment. Last week was going to be the first post positive pregnancy ultra sound. We were told there was a possibility of seeing a heart beat, maybe even seeing more than one embryo. We got excited.

Thursday morning we realized that though EVERY other step of this process is meticulously planned and timed, the embryos have no time line to "attach".  This meant that on the morning we had put so much excitement into, we did not find either of those things. There is a slew of reasons for this from late connection, to slow growth but it was hard not to focus on the bad side.

So we pushed through a very long week. Tried not to focus on the upcoming appointment. Continued with the seemingly endless injections and meds all the while trying not to think it was for not. Wednesday morning lead us both to work, and then a rushed drive to La Jolla during rush hour. The AMAZING staff at the office always seems to make us smile, but this time we were both waiting with baited breath. Dr. Smotrich finally  came in and began the ultra sound. Within seconds there was a clear image on the screen of one tiny but very strong heart beat. It seemed to move the entire room, the strength of that little heart. We had cleared the third and largest of four IVF hurdles out of high risk, appointment a week, clouded fear. The next "hurdle" will be making sure our little embryo grows and develops over the next week. With confidence I feel like I can say, we got this.

Amber has been amazing. I constantly have to sit back and watch with pride and excitement that she is going to be my baby momma. The moments where she cries for little to no reason make me laugh, while moments of fear pass any more with simply a hug. We have to be two of the luckiest people on earth with all the support we have had over the last few months. So here we are. 7 weeks and 3 days along.  September 4th is our tentative due date. And the adventure has just begun.

Thank you all.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

One Great Story

Their are a lot of cliches out there about life and I buy into quite a few of them.  One of my personal favorites: "Life is not measured by the number of breaths you take but by the moments that take your breath away."  You see, when it comes down to it, all I want out of life is a great story.  I want to be able to tell my grandchildren that their granny was a bad ass.  That she took advantage of every opportunity.  That sometimes things didn't quite work out but that I picked myself up, brushed myself off and moved ahead.  Whether they are tear jerking or laugh inducing, I am proud to have stories.  And this story, The McGuire Journals, is a huge one. . .

This past Saturday was the moment we've all been waiting for.  The culmination of shots and check ups, protein, salt and gallons of Powerade, everything we've put ourselves through for this chance.  Needless to say, we were giddy school girls that morning.  We had found out throughout the week that they had retrieved 27 eggs during the retrieval on Monday, 25 of which were viable.  Fifteen of those had been successfully fertilized.  That Saturday morning, our doctor gave me a quick call to let us know that 11 had reached the zygote phase which, as he put it, was "phenomenal."  The plan, 2 to be put in, 9 to go into the freezer.  We couldn't believe it.  So of course we ran out of the house like crazy women with tunnel vision to drive to La Jolla.  Our excitement and anticipation was barely contain as we walked in the office.  Our lovely neighbor and Derby great Dr. Turmoyal made her signature mouthwatering cake balls for the special occasion (Hanukkah style of course) which we practically threw at the staff.

A quick side note.  We were given instructions the day prior that I could eat what I wanted to in the morning but needed to wear loose, comfy clothes, no perfume and I had to drink 16 oz of water on the way up.  I was concerned that what I thought was the embryo transfer was in fact going to be a sorority hazing so I checked with the nurse the day before as to what was up with the perfume and water.  The water, for those of you like me who hasn't been pregnant before, is for the ultrasound.  Turns out the perfume was in fact no smells AT ALL including lotion and body wash because the embryos are extremely sensitive to it.  Who knew!

Anywho, they called us both back to the pre-op area and started going over the procedures for after the procedure and the drug regimen.  The meds are overwhelming now that they gave us a calendar printout to keep us on track.  One injection every day.  Two on Mondays and Thursdays.  Two patches that change every other day and a pill at night.  Plus the standard pre natal vitamin and baby aspirin.  They gave me my gown, hair net, and super sexy socks to change into while also giving Karen a gown, hair net, booties and a mask so she could be in the operating room too.  I cannot tell you how amazing that was.  I was hoping that that would be the case but I know that Karen was prepared to wait in the waiting room.  But this is our journey and much of what the entire staff has done for us is because of the love and commitment they see between us.  I can't imagine they would have had it any other way.

We went into the OR and hung out for awhile.  Once they came in, Dr. Smotrich gave us a picture of the embryos that were going in and the embryologist gave us the top to their petri dish.  The lights were dimmed (they are sensitive to that too) and, as Karen clutched my hand tight, we got started.  She got to see the ultrasound screen during the entire procedure and in the end, there was a tiny speck of light at the top of my uterus that contained both of them. (We have a picture of that too!)

Afterwards, they literally tipped the table up so my legs were above my head and Karen and I had half an hour to talk and cry and reflect on it all.  It was an unbelievable moment that we thought couldn't be topped.  But then our doc walked back in and asked if he could say a prayer.  We're not religious people but we respect his deep faith and said of course.  He held both of our hands over my uterus and said the prayer in Hebrew.  Neither of us could keep the tears from our eyes. . .

We headed home to three days of bed rest.  Literally off my feet except to pee and no using my abs.  It was frustrating at times but luckily we had amazing visitors who kept us company and full of food. Plus a full day of Sunday football with noise makers care of my wife.

Tuesday we returned for a quick blood test.  Turns out my progesterone was a bit low (they want it at 30 and mine was at 24.6) so they upped my nightly drugs to two but that's it.  Not enough concern to do another follow up.

Now its a waiting game.  Trying to be in the moment and be realistic about our chances that they latch on but still take care of myself as a high risk pregnancy like I'm supposed to.  Trying not to over analyze every little thing.  Trying to take deep breaths.

So our next appointment is January 3rd.  And that appointment could quite literally change everything . . . and start an even crazier journey. . .

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Egg Retrieval's Eve


As we sit here on the eve of our egg retrieval, I feel it's time to catch everyone up on the week that has past. . .

As you may know, we started our hormone regiment last Friday with two shots daily in the abdomen.  Things got off to a good start.  While I felt a bit crazy, cold and exhausted, I was handling myself quite well not to mention the amazing care from Karen.  The weekend passed and we lowered one dosage for one injection on Monday morning.  Tuesday found us heading north to get a check up.  Where as the ovaries were silent on Friday, by Tuesday's exam they were progressing right along.  The doc estimated about 20 follicles each at 6-7 millimeters were doing their thing.  He turned to me and ask if I was bloated.  I said a bit.  He said "You will be."  And damn me if I haven't been.

As the week continued, the shots and check ups continued as well.  By Thursday, Karen could do the injections blind, I was bruising like a peach and had sworn off jean and were heading back to the docs.  After a ultra sound that showed incredible improvement (the follicles were now at 16-17 mm) we were given news we were not excited to hear. . .there would be an additional injection.  My wife has been amazing throughout it all and incredibly strong when it comes to the injections but no one wants to inflict pain on their spouse so we needed a moment on our ride home to gather our composure.  The additional injection, we were told, is a bit trickier.  The nurse literally told us sometimes it bounces back.  Awesome.  But the first day went fine and we only had a few more days with injections.

Unfortunately, Friday was a rough day.  Not only did I kick it off yelling out my fantasy team (damn you Redskins defense) and the toaster oven, but I jumped back during the third injection.  I subsequently broke down for a good 20 minutes while my amazing wife tried to help me and yet support me getting it out.  We went again to success but both of us were very tired.

At Thursdays appointment, we got our dates 90% set. . . egg retrieval Monday, implantation the following Saturday.  On Saturday those dates were confirmed with the follicles now being at 20 millimeters.  And again, we got a surprise when it came to the meds.  We would need to do 2 injections specifically timed to get things ready for the retrieval.  One in the thigh.  One in the upper ass.  Both in muscle.  So after a long Saturday that got underway with an appointment, then at Gyminny all day, dinner with Gyminny people and a party at the Mosers, we headed home to take care of business.  The strength of my other half cannot be underplayed here.  These were some intense injections and I was definitely nervous but she was amazingly calm and made everything go so smoothly.  Granted I'm sore today but their is no getting around that.

This morning we went back up for some blood test and tomorrow we return bright and early for the retrieval.  No work for me tomorrow unless from home because as the nurse practitioner put it "I'm going to feel awful."  So K and I will be cuddled up at home with the furry kids hopefully with a winter storm outside.  (Sorry San Diegans, I'm longing for some seasonal weather.)  And at 5:30pm I will be watching my Seahawks on Monday Night Football.  Oh and yes, I will be wearing Seahawks attire to the appointment. . .  as will Karen.

This last week has gone so incredibly fast and slow at the same time.  With the drugs, early mornings and late nights, we are both exhausted but are so thankful for every moment.  Speaking of moments, that's what we've tried to focus on.  Being present in the journey no matter the outcome.  Remembering that we control so little of this and that's ok.  Tomorrow we control nothing and our destiny is then played out in a petri dish until Saturday. . .

What an incredible journey . . .

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Another good report card...

(K) From the other side of the table (not the side laying on her back, and beautiful even then...) I am proud to say that I actually know what I am looking at now during the ultra sound. I do see the follicle growing, and the "Mick Jagger lips"... I never thought I would be this savvy on reproduction. Amber has been so great. I know, not what any one was expecting, I was waiting for her to be a mess. And not for any reason other than ever morning for the last week we have woken up, rushed to eat, and some mornings rushed out the door at 7:30 to be in La Jolla be nervous, and rush to work. If not that then woken up to stab her in the tummy and send her on her way all hopped up on emotion and hormones. But she has been amazing.

From my side... It is an amazing thing to watch. Scary most days. Terrifying to say the least. Hoping I mix meds correctly, making sure I change from the mixing needle to the injecting needle (a large size difference for any one who does not know). But still amazing. I had been struggling with feeling the excitement amid all of the tasking the diet to follow and the sheer amount of information to absorb, but for some reason it has all hit me. This is our journey. Our baby is just on the other side of these morning injections. Its coming. I can not wait for you all to meet them... Because honestly, I don't know how the world will handle a Kamber hybrid. Good luck to you all.

Oh and on that note, where is all my beer? Amber has specifically requested there to be beer.

Happy Thursday to all. And here's to another great report card. Good job growing baby makins babe.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Hormones Day 1...

As I lay in bed ruminating, I figure what better time then now to blog about our momentous morning. I have to say, despite the Christmas Eve like excitement I was able to get a decent night sleep after enjoying a Seahawks win. But morning did come early and we were giddy with excitement and anticipation for our appointment. On the drive we laughed and chatted and realized that there may be an evil genius out there being the puppetmaster of the family, spreading rumors like I'm a vegetarian and Karen's afraid of needles. Turns out, neither of those are true.

Regardless, once we finally got to the office, our merriment turned to apprehension. Although everyone has been amazing at La Jolla IVF, we've secretly been waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the down on the roller coaster ride. (Due to these feelings, I may or may not have had a dream that at the appointment, they told me my uterus had fallen out.) As we waited what felt like an excruciating amount of time, we took a moment to remember that this is all a part of a bigger story. Our bigger story. And no matter what happens at the end of this chapter, we need to enjoy each page...

Finally our nurse practitioner came in for our exam. We learned that we were looking for "quiet ovaries" and that this is the only time that is a good thing. Everything was on the up and up so we moved on to the main event...the injections. Our wonderfully amusing nurse Lupe brought in the large bag of medication and started to go into detail with Karen about the two injections she'll be giving me daily in the lower abdomen. One is similar to an épée pen and pretty straight forward. The other is much more like a chemistry exam with syringes, liquid, powder and different needles. Once she was in the know, Lupe did the first injection that burned a bit with the more intimidating needle. Then Karen took a literal stab at it. I've never been so thankful for some stomach chub.

In general the injections themselves aren't that bad but it's the first day and they say I'll have bruising and tenderness so we'll check back on that. Otherwise, I've felt emotionally extreme today. A bit crazy if you will. I'm not so much mad one minute, sad the next but if I'm sad I'm crying and if I'm mad I'm pissed. I can't imagine that's going to improve so again, please send Karen beer. Oh and for those of you into odd tid bits, due to a chance of something called ovary overstimulation something or other, I have to have vast quantities of gatorade or any other electrolyte infused drink plus sodium which I usually avoid and protein.

So that's what we've got so far. I'm exhausted although I'm not sure if it's because of the emotions of the morning or the meds. Tomorrow will be a better indication. Tomorrow is also a coaching Saturday... Good luck to us all...:p