AMH makes an appearance

If only my eggs looked this good! With Easter around the corner and talk of eggs in the air, my doctor (new doctor) thought it was time I rallied for the dreadful and dreaded AMH test. I think it’s the one test all fertility-challenged women want to avoid. Why? It’s said to be a pretty good indicator of a gal’s eggs supply. Now, I didn’t have this test before my prior IVF (why? no idea!), but my new doc said the information would help him out as he planned my June fun. As if he needed any more info on my low egg count. (If you don’t remember, I was hopped up on crazy amounts of follistim, but the doctor only harvested three eggs, all of which were immature. Awesome.) Not wanting to start off on the wrong foot with the new doc, I obliged and got the test. The results: .91. I have a low ovarian reserve. Shocker!

I’ve come to realize that the reason I go to acupuncture and blog is to help me keep things in perspective. There’s always someone with a lower AMH (acupuncturist’s words were: that’s borderline low, but I have other patients with a much, much lower number) and someone with a worse situation than mine (the gal who’s been through seven IVF cycles!). Of course, I’m also turning into that story friends tell other friends about the girl who’s struggling with infertility. Sweet!

So to reclaim some of the negative energy around the awful AMH test, my brother and his wife have decided to name their baby such a fab name her initials will be AMH! How crazy is that? Sure, I’m reading too much into it, but now I have two AMHs in my life, and one will surely be more exciting than the other.

I’ve also decided to take a few steps in preparation for our June IVF: I joined the local yoga studio and I’m seeing a therapist. The first was something I needed because my energy is gone and my lethargy is over-powering. I know a lot of this has to do with my lack of training or running, but I’m not running or training as much because I feel like my body needs a break. But like most training-plan-obsessed athletes, I don’t work well without a game plan. Enter the yoga studio with bargain basement pricing. I’ve been to three classes in four days, and I’m excited to get into a routine that gives me some peace of mind and some exercise. The second item is also a step I’m taking to try and get my head around what’s going on. It’s not like I don’t know I can’t get pregnant, but as my hubby said the other night, we operate in one of two modes: obsession or denial. I figure there’s got to be a third, more healthy option. Right? Who knows what June will hold. Who knows what another round of IVF will cause. And while I know my husband and I are a strong unit, I also know we’re being stressed in the most significant ways: emotionally and financially. If it were simply one or the other, no problem, but mix the two together and it’s exhausting.

I head to the doc in a few weeks for yet another baseline ultrasound and a mock transfer. Then we wait and fill prescriptions and step fully into the chaos that will hopefully, just maybe help us expand our family.

dfb

Something to celebrate!

OK, so I’ve been pretty down lately. My acupuncturist says I’m just blue. I hear that. I agree. I cried walking my dog last weekend. And why? I have no idea! Friends have been telling me it’s normal. My dad is telling me my body is readjusting to life post-IVF and medication. I’m telling myself I’m losing hope what with the gaggle of girls in my life recently pregnant. Alas, last night as I sat on the couch transfixed with what I was watching, I screamed with joy when I found out Trudy was pregnant. Yes! Finally!

I’m not sure of my readers’ familiarity with Mad Men’s Trudy Campbell (and her asshole husband Pete), but she’s been wanting to get pregnant for a long, long time. And what with her living in the early 60s, what’s a girl to do after getting married if she can’t have a baby. So Trudy went to the doctor, and so did Pete. It wasn’t him (he came home cheering the fact that his sperm was a-ok!). So that left the struggles to her. Poor gal. Did I mentioned that her husband is an asshole? Anyway, it finally happened. Trudy got her pregnancy and all is right with the world. I can honestly say that this is the first pregnant woman I’m 100% thrilled for. Does this clearly make me insane because this excitement is for a fictional person? Yes. Yes it does. But you’re also reading a blog post from a gal who has plowed through the first four seasons of Mad Men in less than a month. If you know of a Mad Men Anonymous meeting nearby, let me know.

Yours in pointy bras, va-va-voom skirts, and whiskey on the rocks before noon,

dfb