13 de septiembre
Luego de una larga pausa, finalmente he vuelto a actualizar el blog – tres meses después de mi última actualización. Como ya sabrán, Andrés se ha recuperado completamente de su cirugía. Lo único que sirve de recordatorio de que algo haya pasado es la cicatriz que le recorre su esbelto abdomen y la mitad de pastilla que se toma cada día para prevenir la acumulación de ácido en el estómago. Se ha bajado 14 kilos en total y no se los ha vuelto a subir, lo que lo pone contento... como una recompensa por la molestia que pasó. Se ve y siente fantástico, y está comiendo y bebiendo la misma variedad de cosas que antes, sólo que con una ligera intolerancia para los fritos. ¿Qué se puede decir? Es un suertudo. No todos salen de esta cirugía con la misma suerte.
En el ámbito del proceso de in vitro, obviamente nos tomamos un largo descanso mientras él se recuperaba y mi nivel de estrés disminuía post-cirugía y la infección que lo hizo parar otra vez en el hospital en julio. Empecé a tomar una hormona llamada DHEA, en pastillas, que se toma tres veces al día por un mínimo de dos meses, lo que ayudó a aumentar mi reserva ovariana de folículos mes a mes. Seguí yendo a la clínica para ver cuántos folículos había producido el día 3 de cada ciclo. En un momento llegué a 8, pero como no había tomado las hormonas por el mínimo de meses, decidimos esperar al siguiente.
Ese ciclo llegó a fines de agosto. Sólo produje cinco folículos en un principio. Por motivos de sincronización me dieron la píldora anticonceptiva por cuatro días y luego, cuando volvieron a revisar, tenía uno más. Con esos seis folículos decidimos partir y empezaron las inyecciones.
Al comienzo del verano, los cuatro nos habíamos sentado a discutir plazos y decidimos que octubre sería nuestro plazo para que esto funcionara o cancelar el proceso. Nunca pensamos que nos quedaríamos pegados en esta etapa por tanto tiempo y no podíamos esperar que Sheona y Jon pusieran sus vidas en pausa indefinidamente mientras me aumentaban la dosis de hormonas mes a mes buscando tener mejor suerte. Y estaban por supuesto nuestros propios límites. Con tantos intentos fallidos, llega un momento en que hay que decir basta.
Al igual que con los anteriores, este ciclo no tuvo éxito. Pareciera que mientras más hormonas me inyecté para estimular mis ovarios, menos estimulados terminaban. Finalmente, el día 7 de este ciclo, el jueves recién pasado, lo cancelamos y pusimos fin al proceso. El momento de decir ‘basta’, casi dos años y medio después de haber pronunciado el concepto de maternidad gestacional como una opción, había llegado al fin. Puedo escuchar sus suspiros de alivio colectivos.
En los últimos 8 años y medio hemos vivido una gama realmente amplia de infertilidad, de pérdidas tempranas a pérdidas tardías, de aborto terapéutico a la imposibilidad de concebir, aunque fuera por in vitro. Tengo que decir que el proceso de in vitro ha sido el más agotador, el más desgarrador, el más estresante. No creo haber sacado nada positivo de él. Para toda la fortaleza y la razón que descubrí que tenía con cada una de mis pérdidas, no descubrí nada nuevo acerca de mí misma o de mi lucha por ser madre a través de este proceso. Lo único que me ha dejado es el saber que hicimos todo lo posible, y el agradable entumecimiento de la derrota, el que se siente justo antes de que afloren bruscamente los sentimientos que uno guarda en lo más profundo y las reflexiones que la mente obligadamente visita.
En muchas maneras, esta ha sido una experiencia muy pública, entre el blog y las conversaciones abiertas con amigos y hasta vecinos. Muchos de ustedes consideraban que deberíamos haber sido más privados con esto. Quizá tengan razón. Vivir el proceso así de abiertamente ciertamente aumento la presión, algo que ya teníamos de sobra. Pero por otra parte, el blog fue un lugar donde pude descargar mis emociones, y mantener a todos al tanto de las últimas, evitando así tener que contar el cuento una y otra vez. Creo que sirvió su propósito y no me arrepiento de haberlo hecho así.
En los meses venideros probablemente nos volvamos a poner de pie, nos sacudiremos el polvo de la última caída y veremos cuál será nuestro próximo paso. Lo obvio es considerar la adopción, pero esa es una aventura larga y nueva, con sus propias reglas, pros y contras. No es una para la que creo estar preparada en este instante. Habrá una multitud de sesiones de información y cursos que tomar antes de llegar a esa encrucijada.
Mientras, es siempre una buena idea descomprimirse y relajarse. Intentaremos tomar un par de viajes a alguna parte antes del fin de año y de gastar un poco de dinero en algo productivo por una vez. No hemos tomado vacaciones este año y creo que las merecemos más que nunca.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Conclusion
September 13
After a long silence, I am finally updating the blog – three months after my last entry. As those closest to us know, Andrés has recovered completely from his surgery. All that’s left as a reminder that anything happened is the scar that cuts across his now flat abdomen and the half a pill he takes each day to prevent acid buildup in his stomach. He lost a total of 30 pounds and has not regained them, which he welcomes as a bit of a bonus for having gone to hell and back. He looks and feels great, and he’s eating and drinking the same variety of things he did before, but with a slightly diminished tolerance for greasy food. What can I say? He is just very lucky that way. Not everyone comes out of this surgery with the same luck.
On the in vitro front, we obviously took a break while he recovered and my stress level went down post-surgery and the ensuing infection that sent him back to the hospital in July. I went on a hormone called DHEA, in pill form and taken three times a day for a minimum of two months, which helped increase my ovarian reserve of follicles month to month. I continued to go to the clinic to see how many follicles I was making on day 3 of each cycle. At one point I got up to 8, but since I had not been on the hormones for the minimum required months, we decided to wait till the next cycle.
That cycle happened at the end of August. I had only five follicles when they checked. They put me on the pill for four days for scheduling purposes and when I went to check again, I had one more follicle. With six we were good to go and the hormones started.
Back at the beginning of the summer, the four of us had sat down and decided that October would be our deadline to make this work or cancel the process. We had never thought we’d get stuck on this stage of the process for so long, and we just couldn’t expect Sheona and Jon to put their lives on hold indefinitely while they jacked up my dose of hormones month to month in hopes of better luck. And then there were our own limits. There is only so much failure one can take before you say enough.
This cycle was unsuccessful, like all the others. It seems the more stimulation drugs I’ve had to take, the less stimulated my ovaries have been. Finally, on day 7 of this cycle, just last Thursday, we canned it and called off the process entirely. We had reached our ‘enough’ moment, almost two and a half years since we had first uttered the word “surrogacy” and meant it as an option. I can hear your collective sighs of relief.
We have experienced a really full range of infertility in the last 8 and a half years, from early miscarriage, to late miscarriage, from therapeutic abortion to the inability to conceive, albeit in vitro. I have to say that the in vitro process has been the most draining, the most heart wrenching, the most stressful. I don’t think that I got anything positive from it. For all the strength and reason that I discovered I had with each of my losses, I didn’t discover anything new about myself or my quest for motherhood with this process. All I am left with is the knowledge that we left no stone unturned, and the comfortable numbness of defeat, the one you experience before the floodgates open and you start feeling again and thinking again.
This has been in many ways a very public experience, between the blog and the conversations with friends, even neighbours. Many of you thought that we should have been more private about it. Perhaps you were right. Living this process out in the open definitely added pressure that we could have done without. But on the flip side, the blog was a place where I could unload and keep everyone up to date with news, avoiding having to tell the same thing over and over again. I think it served its purpose. I have no regrets.
In the coming months we will probably get back on our feet, shake off the dust from our last fall and see what we will do next. The obvious step is adoption, but this is a new and long journey ahead with its own set of rules, pros and cons. Not one that I am ready to embark on this very moment. There will be a host of info sessions and courses before we arrive at that crossroads.
In the meantime, it’s always a good idea to decompress and chill. We’ll be trying to head out on a trip or two before the end of the year and to spend some money on something fruitful for a change. We haven’t taken a vacation this year and I think we deserve it more than ever.
After a long silence, I am finally updating the blog – three months after my last entry. As those closest to us know, Andrés has recovered completely from his surgery. All that’s left as a reminder that anything happened is the scar that cuts across his now flat abdomen and the half a pill he takes each day to prevent acid buildup in his stomach. He lost a total of 30 pounds and has not regained them, which he welcomes as a bit of a bonus for having gone to hell and back. He looks and feels great, and he’s eating and drinking the same variety of things he did before, but with a slightly diminished tolerance for greasy food. What can I say? He is just very lucky that way. Not everyone comes out of this surgery with the same luck.
On the in vitro front, we obviously took a break while he recovered and my stress level went down post-surgery and the ensuing infection that sent him back to the hospital in July. I went on a hormone called DHEA, in pill form and taken three times a day for a minimum of two months, which helped increase my ovarian reserve of follicles month to month. I continued to go to the clinic to see how many follicles I was making on day 3 of each cycle. At one point I got up to 8, but since I had not been on the hormones for the minimum required months, we decided to wait till the next cycle.
That cycle happened at the end of August. I had only five follicles when they checked. They put me on the pill for four days for scheduling purposes and when I went to check again, I had one more follicle. With six we were good to go and the hormones started.
Back at the beginning of the summer, the four of us had sat down and decided that October would be our deadline to make this work or cancel the process. We had never thought we’d get stuck on this stage of the process for so long, and we just couldn’t expect Sheona and Jon to put their lives on hold indefinitely while they jacked up my dose of hormones month to month in hopes of better luck. And then there were our own limits. There is only so much failure one can take before you say enough.
This cycle was unsuccessful, like all the others. It seems the more stimulation drugs I’ve had to take, the less stimulated my ovaries have been. Finally, on day 7 of this cycle, just last Thursday, we canned it and called off the process entirely. We had reached our ‘enough’ moment, almost two and a half years since we had first uttered the word “surrogacy” and meant it as an option. I can hear your collective sighs of relief.
We have experienced a really full range of infertility in the last 8 and a half years, from early miscarriage, to late miscarriage, from therapeutic abortion to the inability to conceive, albeit in vitro. I have to say that the in vitro process has been the most draining, the most heart wrenching, the most stressful. I don’t think that I got anything positive from it. For all the strength and reason that I discovered I had with each of my losses, I didn’t discover anything new about myself or my quest for motherhood with this process. All I am left with is the knowledge that we left no stone unturned, and the comfortable numbness of defeat, the one you experience before the floodgates open and you start feeling again and thinking again.
This has been in many ways a very public experience, between the blog and the conversations with friends, even neighbours. Many of you thought that we should have been more private about it. Perhaps you were right. Living this process out in the open definitely added pressure that we could have done without. But on the flip side, the blog was a place where I could unload and keep everyone up to date with news, avoiding having to tell the same thing over and over again. I think it served its purpose. I have no regrets.
In the coming months we will probably get back on our feet, shake off the dust from our last fall and see what we will do next. The obvious step is adoption, but this is a new and long journey ahead with its own set of rules, pros and cons. Not one that I am ready to embark on this very moment. There will be a host of info sessions and courses before we arrive at that crossroads.
In the meantime, it’s always a good idea to decompress and chill. We’ll be trying to head out on a trip or two before the end of the year and to spend some money on something fruitful for a change. We haven’t taken a vacation this year and I think we deserve it more than ever.
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