Infertility sucks.
It can be draining on your health. It can be draining on your marriage. It can be draining on your social life. It can be draining on your finances.
It's crazy to me just how much it costs to do fertility treatments. Attempts and trials to create life. Some successes and some failures.
I feel like for every failure there should be some kind of refund (even a partial one). Right?
I commend all the couples who have plunked down tens of thousands of dollars on failed attempts. I don't know if I could be that strong. Who knows, maybe we will be.
Recently, I went in for a baseline ultrasound and bloodwork following another failed IUI cycle. When I went to check out with the receptionist, she told me that we had a balance of $XXXX. While I was expecting a balance of some kind based on our previous IUI cycle, I had no idea that it would be five times the amount of the previous time!
I did a double take and asked her to say that again.
I couldn't understand how or why there was such a disparity in the pricing for the EXACT. SAME. PROCEDURE.
Sure, there was a little more monitoring in the way of ultrasounds and bloodwork for this most recent cycle. But in the end, the IUI method was the exact same method.
I talked to the insurance/billing coordinator at the doctor's office to find out what I could about the billing. I was really praying that it was a mistake.
Unfortunately, to my dismay, because the IUI cycle was considered a "Combo Cycle" because we started with straight injectables (Follistim) rather than pills (Femara or Clomid), it was considered an "S-Code" that doesn't get billed until AFTER the IUI procedure and all in one lump some. Some kind of "contractual obligation" to bill that way.
It's a load of insurance mumbo jumbo bull if you ask me. It's how the insurance company gets out of paying for anything and just having this "applied to the deductible".
When I went in for my baseline ultrasound, the ultrasound tech said she saw a cyst, so I figured that meant that we'd have to wait until that cleared. The nurse called me later that day letting me know that I'd be able to start on injections that evening.
Enter the financial conundrum.
Considering that the most recent cycle cost $XXXX, we had to talk about if we could even do another cycle based on the amount that it cost. Yes, we'd get closer to our deductible, making IVF more within reach (if we decided to go down that path)...but seriously, the financial side of this stuff is no joke!
Given our current circumstances, including looking into buying a house, we just can't swing another unexpected lump sum of money...on something that might not work.
I know, I should be thinking "but what if it does work?" and knowing full well that if it were to work, it would have be totally worth whatever we had to shell out.
However, coming from a place of pure pragmatism...it just doesn't seem wise at this time.
It's disappointing.
It feels oftentimes like I have to choose between a house or a baby. We'd like to move to another house for the sake of our future baby. And we'd like a baby.
Too much to ask for!?
Showing posts with label post-miscarriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label post-miscarriage. Show all posts
Today would have been our due date...
I remember when we saw that positive pregnancy test. We were overjoyed. It was probably the happiest moment I can remember since we started trying to conceive. And of course, one of the first things I did was enter my information into a pregnancy due date calculator to see when our bundle of joy would be expected to make an appearance.
April 11. 2016.
Today's date.
It struck me that it was also the date of my grandfather's death anniversary. Twenty three years ago he passed away. I saw it as almost a "sign" that this was meant to be. Kind of like a passing of a torch or something metaphorical I thought up to assign significance to the date.
The days and months following the news that the miscarriage were altered significantly. But it happened in a super subtle way. I felt like the spark and drive that I normally possess dissipated. My motivation evaporated. Things that normally felt easy just felt hard. I didn't want to do anything. I wanted and longed for the one thing I couldn't have.
I think that I didn't really process my grief. I did...but I didn't. Because it happened so early, part of me felt like I wasn't attached, but that was a lie I was telling myself. I now understand the gravity of a positive pregnancy test and that first ultrasound... As soon as I saw that plus sign, I became a mother. My heart doubled in size to carry this new life.
And then it was ripped away.
I went on the for the next few months and I was okay. The memory of the miscarriage tucked away. It would surface when I went to my support group and would tell my story. It would surface when I thought about last summer's extreme highs and deep lows. But I carried on. I tried to focus on other things.
April rolled around. I don't even know how we're already four months into 2016, but we are. I thought about it this weekend. I thought about how things would be different if I didn't have a miscarriage. How this past weekend, I'd either be waiting for labor, in the hospital, or with a new family member that I had prayed for so long.
That wasn't the case. The day came and went. And our arms are empty.
While I didn't spend the day moping around or crying into my pillow, I still thought about the significance that today's date had. What could of been. I know that there's no going back in reverse and the only way to move is forward, but it's definitely something that crosses your mind.
At what point are we at now? Waiting for my cycle to start...again.
I think I've become a professional waiter...as in I'm really good at waiting.
April 11. 2016.
Today's date.
It struck me that it was also the date of my grandfather's death anniversary. Twenty three years ago he passed away. I saw it as almost a "sign" that this was meant to be. Kind of like a passing of a torch or something metaphorical I thought up to assign significance to the date.
The days and months following the news that the miscarriage were altered significantly. But it happened in a super subtle way. I felt like the spark and drive that I normally possess dissipated. My motivation evaporated. Things that normally felt easy just felt hard. I didn't want to do anything. I wanted and longed for the one thing I couldn't have.
I think that I didn't really process my grief. I did...but I didn't. Because it happened so early, part of me felt like I wasn't attached, but that was a lie I was telling myself. I now understand the gravity of a positive pregnancy test and that first ultrasound... As soon as I saw that plus sign, I became a mother. My heart doubled in size to carry this new life.
And then it was ripped away.
I went on the for the next few months and I was okay. The memory of the miscarriage tucked away. It would surface when I went to my support group and would tell my story. It would surface when I thought about last summer's extreme highs and deep lows. But I carried on. I tried to focus on other things.
April rolled around. I don't even know how we're already four months into 2016, but we are. I thought about it this weekend. I thought about how things would be different if I didn't have a miscarriage. How this past weekend, I'd either be waiting for labor, in the hospital, or with a new family member that I had prayed for so long.
That wasn't the case. The day came and went. And our arms are empty.
While I didn't spend the day moping around or crying into my pillow, I still thought about the significance that today's date had. What could of been. I know that there's no going back in reverse and the only way to move is forward, but it's definitely something that crosses your mind.
At what point are we at now? Waiting for my cycle to start...again.
I think I've become a professional waiter...as in I'm really good at waiting.
Starting Again
I never expected that we'd have to wait so long to get started trying again after the miscarriage. Now, having experienced one, I know so much more and have so much more empathy for all the women who have had one or multiple miscarriages.
Any miscarriage is heartbreaking.
I think it's because you have that glimmer of hope. If you had a positive pregnancy test, there's a special kind of exhilaration you experience when you've been trying for years for this one thing to finally happen.
And then it's all taken away.
In addition to the emotional toll that it takes, there's also a physical toll.
I experienced our miscarriage in September 2015.
My RE then told me to wait until my next two regular cycles.
My first cycle post-miscarriage was the heaviest, longest period I've ever experienced. It felt like a mini-miscarriage minus the cramps.
My second cycle post-miscarriage was still on the heavier than normal side (for me), but a lot more normal than that first cycle post-miscarriage.
So that brought us to November, at which point, my RE had us come in for the remainder of the testing that we never had done when we first met with her because I had a positive pregnancy test...all kinds of crazy.
I had a hysterosalpingogram (HSG) and a hysteroscopy.
The hysterosalpingogram is where they set you up underneath an x-ray machine, inject dye to see if your fallopian tubes are clear. For me, the experience was mostly painless - there was some pressure from injecting the dye, but my doctor talked me through it as she completed the procedure. I felt some cramping, but nothing major, and nothing in comparison to the miscarriage. I have heard from other women, however, who have said that when they had the HSG done, it was a very painful experience. I think it really depends on you, your doctor, and your pain threshold.
As far as the hysteroscopy, you're lying down on a exam table, and the doctor will insert a scope with a small/tiny camera to check out your insides. It takes all of about 2-3 minutes and it's similar pressure and I'd say less painful than the HSG. My doctor did find evidence of a polyp on the back wall of my uterus as well as the site of where implantation had occurred. They call it "products of conception."
Because of the polyp, my RE recommended to have it removed as she suspected that it could have contributed to the cause of the miscarriage. We'll never fully know, but for me, it makes me feel a little better knowing there was some kind of "reason" for it happening.
In December, at the start of my next cycle, I had the surgery. It was a hysteroscopic polypectomy, which is a fancy way of saying that the polyp was removed with a hysteroscope. Thankfully that meant that no incisions were made on me. I was put under general anesthesia for the first time ever, and while I was a little apprehensive about it, it was the best sleep that I can remember.
For me, the surgery was easy. I had surgery on Friday, napped most of Friday afternoon, and felt pretty back to normal by Saturday afternoon. I had to take a week off of exercise/activity until my post-op appointment, but otherwise, everything was back to normal.
So that brings us back to now. At my post-op appointment, my RE told me that the surgery was a success and that she removed the polyp and "products of conception". She asked me what we wanted to do and if we were ready to try again. I said that we were ready. I went in for a baseline ultrasound right before Christmas and started Letrozole. I had a Day 11 ultrasound and it looked like I had already ovulated. They drew blood for a progesterone test, and later that day confirmed that ovulation had occurred. At that point we just had to wait to see what the two week wait might present.
Two days before I expected my period, and on the day that the RE's nurse had told me I could take a HPT, my cycle started.
Sometimes I just want to tell my body to stop being so rude.
So I called my RE's office to let them know that my cycle started again, and I went back in for a baseline ultrasound this past Monday on Day 4. I started Letrozole on Day 4, and I'll go in for a follow up ultrasound on Day 8 - a few days earlier than typical with the hope that we don't miss the ovulation window...because the plan is to trigger ovulation with Ovidrel.
It was weird that I ovulated so early last cycle, but after asking in my support groups, it sounds like other ladies who also took Letrozole experienced some early ovulation as well.
So we'll see what happens this cycle.
What no one tells you about a miscarriage
This fall was one of, if not THE, hardest seasons of my life that I have ever gone through. I felt like I was weathering a storm that no one could really protect me from. Between the physical and the emotional, it all now feels like a numb blur.
And it's kind of weird because miscarriages are such a deeply personal experience. You don't really know what it's like until you're in the thick of it. I'll admit that I didn't understand "what the big deal" was until it happened to us. I figured that it was "better" than being further along. But there's something special that happens when you find out that you are pregnant. You're instantly a parent. There's something that clicks in your brain and refocuses your priorities.
Here are some of the things I wish someone could have told me about going through miscarriage.
It doesn't matter how far along you are, the emotional pain is just as real and as strong. I remember going in for our second follow up ultrasound and seeing the look on the ultrasound technician's face. I got a pit in my stomach and I knew it wasn't looking good. I tried to hold it together and not break down in that moment, but a sudden sadness washed over me. We were 7 weeks along.
Your first period after a miscarriage can feel like another miscarriage. Because every woman's body is different, there's no way to know what your first period post-miscarriage will be like. My doctor wanted me to wait until my second cycle start before revisiting our situation. Well, let me tell you, and warn you what it was like for me. It was kind of like the miscarriage events without the cramps. I've never had a period that heavy in my life. And it was also full of clots. Big ones. Soaking through pads in minutes. It went on for about seven days. My thoughts were - "How do I even have any blood left to shed?!"
No one really understands what it's like unless they've been through it. We didn't tell anyone except our immediate family that we were expecting. Because we were so excited, we had told them the day we found out. Telling them the sad news was one of the hardest pieces of news to deliver. When I subtly shared online that we had gone through miscarriage on October 15 (pregnancy & infant loss day), there were some people who came out of the woodwork. However, for most people, they get this speechless look on their face and they don't know what to say. It's understandable. I didn't want anyone to feel sorry for me. I just wanted someone to just be there.
There's no "right" way to mourn. Grief is a strange beast. It creeps up on you when you least expect it. It lingers when you think it's passed. I felt like I (for lack of better words) "got over it" fairly quickly. It was an intense September when everything happened, and then as we slipped into October, I felt myself emerging from the fog. I felt guilty for not being more sad. I felt guilty for being still sad. I was confused and overwhelmed. There were times when I'd just be in my car and start crying. It's okay to feel all the feelings and now understand what the heck is going on with yourself. Feel it. Seek help from a counselor. Talk it out.
Certain milestones can trigger emotions. When we were at my parents' for Thanksgiving, my great aunt asked me how we were doing. Apparently, no one had shared the news with her. I remember that I had written down the weeks on a calendar of how far along I would be, in the event that it would impact travel. Well, at Thanksgiving I would have been 20 weeks. I'm guessing we would have found out the gender and I would be about halfway and showing. Her innocent question brought back those emotions. By Christmas, we would have been 24 weeks, and by Spring there'd be a bundle of joy. We'll see how it is in April when our due date comes and goes.
If you've gone through miscarriage(s), what are some of the things you've learned that you wish you knew?
And it's kind of weird because miscarriages are such a deeply personal experience. You don't really know what it's like until you're in the thick of it. I'll admit that I didn't understand "what the big deal" was until it happened to us. I figured that it was "better" than being further along. But there's something special that happens when you find out that you are pregnant. You're instantly a parent. There's something that clicks in your brain and refocuses your priorities.
Here are some of the things I wish someone could have told me about going through miscarriage.
It doesn't matter how far along you are, the emotional pain is just as real and as strong. I remember going in for our second follow up ultrasound and seeing the look on the ultrasound technician's face. I got a pit in my stomach and I knew it wasn't looking good. I tried to hold it together and not break down in that moment, but a sudden sadness washed over me. We were 7 weeks along.
Your first period after a miscarriage can feel like another miscarriage. Because every woman's body is different, there's no way to know what your first period post-miscarriage will be like. My doctor wanted me to wait until my second cycle start before revisiting our situation. Well, let me tell you, and warn you what it was like for me. It was kind of like the miscarriage events without the cramps. I've never had a period that heavy in my life. And it was also full of clots. Big ones. Soaking through pads in minutes. It went on for about seven days. My thoughts were - "How do I even have any blood left to shed?!"
No one really understands what it's like unless they've been through it. We didn't tell anyone except our immediate family that we were expecting. Because we were so excited, we had told them the day we found out. Telling them the sad news was one of the hardest pieces of news to deliver. When I subtly shared online that we had gone through miscarriage on October 15 (pregnancy & infant loss day), there were some people who came out of the woodwork. However, for most people, they get this speechless look on their face and they don't know what to say. It's understandable. I didn't want anyone to feel sorry for me. I just wanted someone to just be there.
There's no "right" way to mourn. Grief is a strange beast. It creeps up on you when you least expect it. It lingers when you think it's passed. I felt like I (for lack of better words) "got over it" fairly quickly. It was an intense September when everything happened, and then as we slipped into October, I felt myself emerging from the fog. I felt guilty for not being more sad. I felt guilty for being still sad. I was confused and overwhelmed. There were times when I'd just be in my car and start crying. It's okay to feel all the feelings and now understand what the heck is going on with yourself. Feel it. Seek help from a counselor. Talk it out.
Certain milestones can trigger emotions. When we were at my parents' for Thanksgiving, my great aunt asked me how we were doing. Apparently, no one had shared the news with her. I remember that I had written down the weeks on a calendar of how far along I would be, in the event that it would impact travel. Well, at Thanksgiving I would have been 20 weeks. I'm guessing we would have found out the gender and I would be about halfway and showing. Her innocent question brought back those emotions. By Christmas, we would have been 24 weeks, and by Spring there'd be a bundle of joy. We'll see how it is in April when our due date comes and goes.
If you've gone through miscarriage(s), what are some of the things you've learned that you wish you knew?
