Tag Archives: infertility

T-15 hours to our first ultrasound: one baby? Two babies? Or more?

It’s a little crazy to think that in 15 hours I’ll be looking at a picture of my uterus and a yolk sack that holds my future child. It’s even more crazy to think that there’s a chance, albeit a small one, that I’ll be looking at two — or more — yolk sacks, and my future “children.”

As much as I dreamt of having twins when I was a little girl, I think I will scream if I’m pregnant with more than one. Long term, having two at once might be ideal – but short team I have no idea how we’ll manage it. I’m already in denial about having one.

It’s probably just one — hopefully one healthy baby. But, two is also a real possibility – since there were two mature follicles when we triggered this cycle… and I just felt like, oh boy, this is a strong one and this is going to be an interesting month. Plus, I saw a double rainbow last week… so I think that might be a sign. 🙂

When to Start Planning for Baby and… How to Handle at Work?

With an embarrassing number of HPTs (home pregnancy tests) scattered about my bathroom, all with faint or not-so-faint double lines, this whole “I’m actually pregnant” thing is starting to feel more and more real. I’m still super early… which means miscarriage is quite possible, but the double lines now 16 days after my trigger shot means either I have a ridiculously slow metabolism or I’m at least somewhat pregnant.

For better or worse, my husband and I haven’t seriously considered life after having kids — because, with infertility and all the unknowns of if we could have kids, we didn’t want to get our hopes up. I mean, we discussed it a bit —

  • Can we manage to raise a child in our 1 bedroom rent controlled apartment until the kid is 2? Yes. Um. We think so. 
  • Will we raise our children with any specific religion? No. I’m Jewish and he’s Christian (both super non religious) but we love our holidays so we’ll each focus on the cultural traditions and not much else.  Father has agreed that kids will be “Jew-ish” by the nature of Jewish law (mom is Jewish, so are the kids.) But hubby isn’t giving up Christmas or Easter – I’ll just have to amp up the excitement I felt as a kid around Purim. 🙂

  • Will we send our kid to daycare? Well, we haven’t discussed this too much yet… his father lives nearby and we think he’ll be quite helpful in babysitting when asked as he’s retired and basically sits around all day (and he does like little kids, luckily.) Husband’s mother lives in a horrible mess of a house with cat droppings everywhere — while she can put together a super fun and creative holiday game for kids, we’ve agreed our future children will not be stepping foot in that house and that grandma is not allowed to watch them without us around / in the other room. My parents live far away, and my mom has made it clear that she thinks it’s so horrible how all of these parents these days are having so much help from their parents… so I’m not asking her for anything other than family pictures when we visit.

Ok, so… that leaves a zillion other things to figure out in eight months. I’m admittedly terrified. I’ll be almost 35 when I have my first kid now (assuming this bean sticks) and that’s as good of a time as any. But, really, how the fuck are we going to make this work?

Husband won’t discuss until my blood tests come back positive. I get it. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up either. But I’m freaking out here. In a good way. And also in a not so good way.

I just started my new job a month ago… which, yes, means I got pregnant (theoretically) basically the week I started working. This means I won’t be eligible for FLMA (unpaid 12 weeks off with guarantee to return to work) and who knows if my company will offer me their minimal maternity benefits given I’ll have to take leave so soon after starting. I’m mildly concerned, to say the least.

My company, from what I’ve read in the very limited literature on maternity benefits, says that they offer 4 weeks of paid time off. I’d love to save up vacation time to use but since the company offers “Unlimited Vacation Time” (my favorite bullshit new-age benefits policy that screws over employees), there is no way to save up time… other than not taking ANY vacation before I give birth (or, only a week before I am due?) and try to make the case that I am using vacation days. But how many can I take as part of this “unlimited” vacation policy? I’m planning to estimate based on the informal conversation I had with my boss before joining… ~15 days are acceptable to take off per year as part of this policy… so if I don’t take any for 9 months, that’s a little over 7 days of PTO I’m entitled to (yes, a whopping extra week of maternity leave, if they’ll agree to this.)

Now, the good thing about my job is that I could potentially do it from home at that point. There are people on my team who work remotely, and it seems to be an acceptable work setup for the company. It’s part of the reason I took the job. The actual work I’m responsible for can also mostly be done remotely (although I prefer face time with the team.) So, my current vision for how this plays out is that I have a very health to-term pregnancy, work until a few days before my due date, give birth on my due date or earlier, and then after the 4 weeks off (if my company gives that to me) I start working full time again but remotely.

That’s all nice and dandy in thought… but, is it really doable? I’m not a young mother at this point… since I’ll be nearly 35 while giving birth… and at this point with my infertility treatments I’m not ruling out a multiple birth. So many things could make this so much more complicated and what do I do?

I believe I do have disability benefits (short term) for 66% of my salary after the 4 weeks, for a few more weeks – maybe that covers some more time off. I’m not sure if I’m eligible for them after 9 months at the company… (at least I can prove I got pregnant AFTER starting and after my benefits would have kicked in.) I’d like to ask someone about this but… it’s not ideal to announce anything or ask HR anything until you’re 12 weeks along, so, perhaps I’ll wait.

I’m also concerned about first trimester “morning” sickness. I’ve already been nauseous on and off and it’s supposed to be too early to feel this way (though some boards say with multiples you can feel this earlier – uh oh.) I’m fairly sensitive to just about everything, so I’m unclear how I am going to keep this a secret even through my first trimester anyway.

The other good news, however, is that I’ve worked for my boss before, and he basically told me when I interviewed that if I want to have a family it would be good to think about joining this company (vs a smaller company like ones I typically end up in.) And he’s right — even though the benefits for maternity leave aren’t Google/Apple/Facebook/Netflix-level awesome, they’re better than the nonexistent maternity policies of most startups. They at least exist. Someone on my team is actually on maternity leave right now, so when she comes back I can ask her how she managed it.

I’m mostly worried about the first year of my kid’s life. I like working, but I’m so concerned I’ll just be too exhausted to think straight. We can’t afford to live on one income (especially not my husband’s income… his is about $65k and mine is $165k (plus potential of $50k-$100k bonus, etc. annually) so, I have to work. It’s the only way we have a shot of ever being able to afford to live in more than a 1 bedroom apartment. Assuming I can get half of my bonus each year ($215k), and he starts working as a teacher for ~$50k, then as a couple we’re making $265k and… that’s enough to live in a two bedroom condo in a reasonably nice area here, plus save for the kid’s college and such. I think I want to work, but I don’t like not having a choice… in case there are complications.

…I know plenty of women DO work shortly after having a kid… but it happens that my close friends who are married with young kids are either stay at home moms or work but work from home for themselves. I don’t want to miss my child’s first moments… I know it will all go by so fast.

Meanwhile, where on earth are we going to put a crib in this apartment? We have the space — our living room is rather large and so is our bedroom for a 1br… but, either we put a crib right next to our bed in between it and my husband’s desk / office… or, we put it in the living room. The living room doesn’t have air conditioning so that’s probably a horrible idea. Especially since the baby will be due in August.

Fortunately, I’ve hit that random goal of saving over $500k before getting pregnant – so I know there’s a cushion. But I don’t want to drain that unless I really have to. My goal is still to work full time and not take much time off to have my kid(s). But who knows what the future holds. I’d like to have a path to renting or owning a home with at least two bedrooms. I’d like to have a husband who is willing to talk about this stuff before I am officially pregnant… but as he’s going back to school this spring for teaching, and will be still taking classes and working when the baby is born… I don’t know how we’re going to do this. We’ll figure it out. But I’m really looking forward to when this blood test confirms that I’m indeed pregnant so perhaps we can start planning our future together.

I want kids more than I want a house.

Continuing the “downsized American Dream” theme, I’ve been thinking a lot about the next however many years left of life I have, and I’m now comfortable with the sentiment – I want kids more than I want a house.

This all came to be when I was thinking about the potential cost of various infertility treatments just around the corner, and asking myself if spending $30,000-$100,000+ on IVF made any sense when that money should be going to the downpayment on a house.

But then, I thought about how empty that house would be without children – and, how, without kids, I don’t actually even want a house. Maybe a two-bedroom apartment… but I don’t need that much more space. I know the more space I have, the more crap I’ll collect, and I certainly don’t need to be collecting crap.

Today I’m on CD20 after having a very strong trigger shot on CD11 (I assume based on some charting that I ovulated very early on CD13.) I’m hopeful, but in a cautiously optimistic way, that this cycle worked. That, after $4000 on infertility treatment for child #1, I can move on to spending $$$$ on childbirth and the kid him or herself once born – not just trying to make my body work like a healthy person.

But I realize that the odds are still very slim I got pregnant this cycle – or that I can get pregnant at all, at least without super expensive infertility treatments. I could be pregnant now, and I want to be, but I can’t do anything about that until it’s time to take a test (next weekend-ish.) And, if I get “AF,” it’s back to the drawing board. We have to decide quickly if we want to do another $950 Femera & TI cycle, if we want to move on to IUI ($2500 cycle), or straight to IVF ($30k.) It’s impossible to make the “right” decision. It’s harder to even make any rational decision when I’m turning 34 and beyond PCOS I know in 1 year any natural fertility I have will start to “rapidly decline.”

I’m glad to not be 34 with a gaggle of children, but I also worry that I waited too long. I was still in the “don’t get pregnant” mindset they instill in you in high school… i.e. “dry hump for a second and you’ll end up pregnant with AIDS and Herpes and whatever this weird rash is we’re showing you a picture of right now.” Although a woman’s 20s is prime time to have children, in society today, we’re encouraged to wait… to focus on our careers. And, to be honest, I wasn’t ready anyway. But, what they don’t tell you is that when you turn 30… you’re running out of time. Your 20s come and go and suddenly you are approaching “much harder to get pregnant” zone. Time is running out.

I am, admittedly, freaking out about turning 34. Or, maybe freaking out is the right term. I’m accepting it, but also it’s surprisingly a very emotional transition. I’m no longer in my “early 30s” – which was, you know, just like the late 20s and the late 20s was an extension of the mid 20s which was that age you want to be always. But 34… 34 is really the turning point to middle age. It’s closer to 40 than I’d care to admit. Not that there is anything wrong with being 40 but 40 is that age you are before you turn 50, and 50 is half way through your life, if not more than that, and more than half way through your healthy years (not to mention the healthy years of your loved ones who are aging as rapidly as you due to the nature of equal opportunity time.)

On the other hand, I feel good about turning 34. I feel like it’s time to get my life in order because I have to. I’m not longer an age which is some made up extension of my mid 20s. I am definitely an adult. I’m an adult who is more than ready to have children and I hope I can. I am an adult who can admit that my once dream of owning a 3-4 bedroom, 2-3 bath house with a backyard and gourmet kitchen is just a dream – and not necessary to be happy. I’ve saved over $500k which once felt entirely impossible, and I did this before having kids, which was my once unreasonable goal. I’m well on my way to a stable retirement – assuming I can maintain employment at about what I’m making right now – for the next 15 years. By 50, I may be in a very good place to let loose and enjoy life… with my kids who then would be teens and/or pre-teens. (Gasp.)

There are many variations of “home” as are there variations of “family.” But, I want children more than anything, and I am now comfortable with doing what I have to in order to make this happen. I don’t want – yet – to think about when to give up. I’ve got a long way to go before I have that conversation with my husband… and myself.

Before You Get Pregnant: How to Plan For Maybe Baby

Some people get pregnant in a heartbeat. My friend was one of those people. She’s thrilled to have a child (at 35, she wanted kids, and time was no longer on her side) but she just found out her company offers 0 days paid maternity leave. The state provides some time off at 55% of her pay, at least, but she’s very concerned as having a child isn’t cheap. It’s horrible to have that surprise — a full-time job and no maternity leave.

I’m unsure yet how much to worry about my own potential pregnancy. Potential, because I’m spending thousands upon thousands of dollars on infertility treatments – and still have absolutely no idea if any of them will work. Not that anyone knows when they’re going to get pregnant – but it’s certainly hard to plan anything when it’s quite possible I’m entirely barren. Or, maybe I got pregnant last night.

Unless you work for a company that is filled with (and likely run by) women, chances are, you aren’t going to have a clear understanding of your company’s maternity leave policies until you need them. I know that I work for a company that (I think) provides four weeks of paid maternity leave — far more than most women get in this country (like my friend, who will get nothing.) If I get pregnant in the next three months, I won’t be eligible for state and federal protections in terms of keeping my job if I need to take unpaid time off. I believe I have short term disability which covers some of my income, but certainly not enough of it to provide much of an option after I have a kid – if I have a kid – I will be going back to work after four weeks… and hopefully negotiating work-frome-home with my boss. But given my current boss is hiring someone under him to be my manager at some point, I have no idea who that person will be, or if they will care to be flexible with my schedule should I need that flexibility.

Given I’ve never been pregnant before, I have no idea what I’ll want or need. I certainly imagine it would be hard to leave my tiny hypothetical baby when they are so young. And I also would assume I’ll be absolutely exhausted at that point. But – I may not have kids after all, so should all of that challenge come my way, I should be grateful.

What’s harder now is negotiating my role with my boss, as there are opportunities which require travel and I know it would hurt the company to commit to them and immediately get pregnant. Yet, I don’t want to limit my career growth just because “I may get pregnant at some point possibly but who knows if it will happen.” But one cannot have this conversation with her boss. I can’t say, well, I’d like to take on this responsibility which requires travel but my husband and I are trying to get pregnant via an infertility specialist and there is a chance that at some point in the next year I will get pregnant, but there is also a pretty big chance that I won’t.

One cannot be open like that at work. My boss has to, then, assume that I want to have kids, given I’m a married 33 year old who hasn’t had any yet – and to be fair to him, he has to plan his whole organization based on who is able to do certain tasks now and for the foreseeable future. Then again, anyone – any man – could get sick at any moment — and no one is limiting their job opportunities because they may get too sick to travel.

But that isn’t bothering me much — I’m ok at the moment to pretend like I’m going to get pregnant and play life out as such. So I likely won’t take on the responsibilities which require monthly travel — that’s probably for the better anyway since I need to be home for all of my fertility treatments (though, I could probably time them around my travel schedule as long as it wasn’t too intense.) I’m trying to get in the groove at work and really just accept and be happy with NOT seeking a promotion or career growth. My #1 objective right now, other than starting a family, is to have a role that will provide me flexibility when I have kids. That means just doing a good job with my tasks that can be completed remotely one day — proving my worth enough that I can remain gainfully employed through the first years of my child’s life, as long as there are no unexpected layoffs.

I’m trying really hard to tell myself that it’s OK to not “lean in” —  I don’t NEED to be VP soon or ever. It’s fine that former colleagues my age are already in executive roles. I don’t need to be an executive and I don’t even need to be a manger. I can be a workhorse. A producer. Someone who gets shit done and fast. Someone who people trust to create great work. Hopefully, I can actually do that – and continue to do that as a mother with a newborn.

All of this is hypothetical, obviously, since I have no idea if I can have kids. Literally, at this moment, I could be pregnant… with a singleton or even with twins (I had two mature follicles from the Femera before the trigger shot.) We’ll know in two weeks if this cycle was successful…

I just wish my husband would talk to me about the what if we are successful part of this journey. I know it’s hard for him – to want kids and to be healthy and to have a wife that is medically broken. He is super supportive of this process and is ok if we can’t have kids, although I know he’ll be very disappointed about it. But – I want to be able to talk about planning for what if we do. I know he doesn’t want to get his hopes up… and probably figures we’ll have nine months to plan once I get a BFP. I just am so worried about it all. Even if we didn’t have all of this crazy and costly infertility stuff to deal with, having a kid is clearly no joke. I want to give my kid(s) a reasonably good life. I want to plan for the future. I want to feel like we are working as a team towards a common goal.

DH is going back to school to become a teacher this year. That’s great and all, and I’m supportive of that, but still worried. His income will drop to about $50k a year, which will definitely not be enough to support a family of three. I don’t expect him to support the entire family – and his potential teaching career will allow him more flexibility to stay at home with the “kids” while I’m at the office. It’s probably a very good plan. I need to keep my job – this job – and stay as long as possible. With my bonus and RSUs I can make up for his lost wages changing to a public service-style profession. I don’t think we can buy a house – ever – but do we really need that to be happy? I just don’t know how much a kid(s) will cost, other than – a lot. It will be a while before we go broke (I do have $500k in stocks, minus taxes) – but, that doesn’t make me feel much better about the future.

It really isn’t worth worrying yet since I still may be entire infertile. But, if I am, I want to focus more on my career now because then my career IS my baby. In any case, the next few years are going to be rough, with or without kids. I’d prefer with, and I’m hoping I have to figure this all out vs not.

Infertility and Me: Another Cycle, Another $1000 Hope

The pills may or may not be causing these headaches. Maybe it’s just the stress. The new job and will-I-or-won’t-I-be-able-to-have-kids stress. The I’m-turning-34-and-having-a-mid-life-crisis-for-the-next-20-years stress. The I thought everything would magically be in place by now in my life (well, I never actually imaged myself any older than 25 even well after I turned 25) stress. All that stress. And all this headache.

Breathe.

If I can’t have children… I haven’t gotten there yet. I haven’t let myself think that yet. I’m turning 34, but people have kids until they’re 40. Or older! Sure, it’s more unlikely, but 34 is still child-bearing age. I didn’t wait that long yet. Plenty of people who have trouble having children do. Eventually. With help. Or without. It will happen when its meant to happen.

My younger cousin gave birth to her first child today. I’m thrilled for her. Over the moon. But I can’t ignore the fact that this is a major emotional moment in my life, albeit one that really has nothing to do with me. As the oldest cousin on both sides, I always assumed I’d be first to most life steps. I’m the oldest by a few years, and no one has been rushing in my family to get married or have children. With 13 cousins, myself included, she’s the first one to have a child. I still remember her practically in diapers. Now she has her own child in diapers.

So do all my friends. Or, my friends have toddlers and some of them have pre-teens. Facebook tells the story in pictures that document just how quickly we all grow up. I want to slow time down, but I can’t. Except maybe if I get pregnant – I hear those are the longest 9 months of your life.

Looking around at this mess of an apartment – that I need to clean tonight – that I need to keep clean… this mess of a life, this… imposter of a professional who is trying one. more. time. to be put together enough to hold down a damn job (not a great start when an exec tells you this morning that you look tired. “I’m not,” I replied, realizing immediately how defensive that sounded. How awkward. An admittance of my exhaustion in my denial. I wanted to say – ‘but last night I actually slept a full 8 hours.” Put your head down, put your head down, don’t say a word.

I know if I am going to have kid(s), I need some semblance of stability in my job. Some ability to handle stress because I AM COMPLETELY AWARE that children are not walk in the park, with the exception of when you’re actually walking with them in the park (and even then.) Part of me questions if this whole desire to have children thing is so off base because of my mental illness and my natural inability to procreate without outside help.

But. Then. My biological clock pseudo kicks me inside like a massive ghost contraction coming from deep inside my uterus from a place that can only be described as a wormhole to the forth detention of motherhood. A longing. A desire. A fraudulent want to have a little being (and then a bigger being) be in need of my attention, my love, my care. A little person who I have to keep alive. Someone to raise to be confident and love her or his self. Even though, I know, there’s not much you can do when it comes to these things. But, I can offer what my parents never offered me – unconditional love.

It all seems so fanciful of an idea right now anyway. The odds are so slim that any given cycle will work. And then, there’s the high rate of miscarriage amongst women with PCOS — I just won’t let myself get my hopes up. I wonder, at what point do I throw in the cards and say enough is enough. Enough bleeding money. Enough headaches and stomach aches and two week waits and feeling like a failure yet again. If I were to get pregnant, I’d want to keep it a secret all to myself (and my doctor, of course) so that I won’t have to deal with the pressure of losing a child should that happen before its born.

Our journey now is just $1000 a month. Or so. Next year I can change insurance and it might cover a tiny little bit of the costs. It’s so hard to understand what exactly is covered. Not IVF. But then, what else counts as “infertility treatment?” Only one insurance plan offers anything. Called them and they said I should talk to member services to find out. Member services said since I’m not a member yet, so I should talk to sales. Sales said I should talk to member services because I’m not enrolling as an individual. It went on like that for about an hour on the phone until I hung up in frustration.

We haven’t don’t IUI yet… and that may be included in what’s covered at 50% by the insurance. However, if I don’t know what they charge for an IUI, 50% could be more than paying out of pocket at a clinic. Fuck healthcare’s lack of transparency in this country. Seriously.

But, I’m lucky to have the money to spend. Yes, I want to save $1M by 40 and yes, these infertility treatment costs are eating into that dream… but – as long as I can keep my job (key thing) then it’s worth it. I have the money. Unlikely so many other women who really don’t have the ability to do any of this. Or who go in debt over infertility. It is a trap and such an emotional journey even the most fiscally responsible can make devastating mistakes based on hope.

It is such a lonely journey. Yes, I am on a billion Facebook infertility groups, with woman posting pictures of their ovulation kits and pregnancy tests and cervical mucus and various forms of fluids that come out of their nethers (#Iveseenitall). I went, once, to an infertility meet up which ended up being run by a woman who has been unable to get pregnant after 3 years of infertility treatments, a religious woman who refuses to do any infertility treatments, and another woman and her husband who spent tens of thousands of dollars on infertility treatments that didn’t work. As someone just getting started on the journey, I felt completely out of place. It was very awkwardly passive aggressive. I left and did not go back.

People don’t talk about this stuff… unless you have a close friend or family member who has been through it. A family friend did have IVF in a state that paid for it, but it worked for her – twice – on the first try. And she didn’t have to pay anything other than co-pays. So, sure she can understand the emotional challenge of the treatments, but the financial challenge is just as draining.

My husband is extremely supportive and I’m so fortunate to have him. In those Facebook groups women talk about how their husbands are upset about their infertility, and all the problems they have. My husband knew about this from long before we were married, when I told him there’s a big chance I can never have kids. He chose to marry me even though he really wants kids of his own. And we’re still hoping, but I know he’ll be there by my side childless or with an accidental litter.

Still, I feel quite alone in this. The nurses are fake nice and the admin just wants you to come in and pay and keep the cash-cow clinic in business. More treatments. More failures. More money. For them.

Next year is going to be rough, for sure. I’m really giving myself until 35 to get pregnant, at which point, I’m not sure how I will react. That’s ~14 cycles… 14 tries… including this one… to get pregnant. Some of those will likely include IVF if the basic treatment plan doesn’t work. IVF and all those amazing drug cocktails that will undoubtedly make me even more crazy, albeit temporarily.

And I need to keep this job. I have no other option.

Facing the costs of IVF… how are we going to afford this?

Yes, I can sell a bunch of stock to try to have a baby. I’d prefer not to. I’d prefer to keep that money for all the costs that come after having a baby and maybe one day buying a house. But, instead, I’m looking at $40,000+ for a chance at having a child. Even for someone like myself who has managed to save $500k, that’s a lot of money.

The clinic I went to today has high reviews, and equally importantly, is located close to my apartment and has appointments at 6:30am so working women don’t have to miss hours on the job in order to go through IVF and FET. I didn’t love the clinic to be honest – the doctor seemed good, but the other people there were a bit off… but at this point, I have to consider location and ability to have early morning appointments above all else, except maybe cost.

IVF fees are confusing, even when the clinics try to make them straightforward. And, the reality is, no matter what the fees are, there’s still only a 30%-40% chance each cycle will result in a live birth (give or take depending on age and other factors.) So, besides spending tens of thousands of dollars, you’re also confronted with the reality that you may end up with no child in the end. How much will you spend before you give up?

Few states cover any IVF fees. California is not one of them. So, we have to come up with $40k out of pocket to do this. Before we do that, we still have the option of doing timed intercourse with ovarian stimulation and trigger shot ($1000 a month) or IUI ($2200 / month), which may work, and will be a heck of a lot cheaper than IVF. But it also has a much lower chance of working than IVF, and $1000 a month isn’t pennies after a year of trying.

The one really good thing about IVF (at this clinic anyway) is that they have a model where you can bank extra embryos in advance for your second child. This is important to me because I will be over 35 when I have my second child (probably closer to 40 at this rate) and at least then if I have embryos banked it will “only” cost about $10k for a round to transfer them… not cheap, but cheaper than another $40k (as long as one of them sticks.)

I’m still in a bit of denial about the cost of all of this. I’ve never spent $40k on one anything in my life. The most I’ve spent on anything is $13k on my (used) car. It kind of goes against my entire principle of saving to spend $40k on ANYTHING. I also, deep down, still believe that this should happen for free. I mean, my body doesn’t want it to, and I’m going to be 34 in two months (crazy) and I haven’t gotten pregnant yet… but maybe I can. Or maybe I should put more faith into the Femera cycles with timed intercourse and  a trigger shot. Maybe the $1000 a month after a few months will work and I can avoid the $40k IVF… at least this time. But if I avoid that now, I won’t be able to save my younger eggs… and then my chances of having a second child are very slim. Maybe I should just splurge on IVF as insurance for my future, bank my eggs, hopefully get pregnant in the first two cycles… it could work. It could work very well, who knows.

Or it could not work at all – with the exception of draining our bank accounts.

Hello World. Yes, I’m Alive. And I’m in Japan.

Usually when I lose my job I fester in self pity and despair. Not this time world. I’ve been traveling in Japan for the past two weeks and have another week-or-so to go.

The first bit was lovely and stressful with my husband and sister traveling with me through Tokyo and Kyoto (and I planned the whole trip, so it was like work even though also fun.) Now, I’m traveling for a while on my own — which honestly I don’t like that much but
I feel it’s good for me to get away from reality for a while and experience new cultures…

I spent way too much on the first chunk of the trip, but now am doing about $50-$70 a day, which isn’t so bad… hostels get old after a while but they do make it possible to extend travel for ultra cheap, even in high-cost-of-living areas. I really needed this time alone on my own at the moment to regroup and focus on what matters in life, versus sitting in my room all day, staring at the wall and doing nothing outside of applying to jobs and sinking further into depression.

I’ve been out of work now for less than three weeks and I already miss it. I feel like one big solution to my failure to be a good employee is how I am obsessed with working. Even now that I HAVE NO JOB and don’t have to work, I crave having work. It gives me purpose and I need purpose when life is all so chaotic and impossible to control. I like working, only because I can succeed at something, even if for a short while, and even if that victory doesn’t last.

I really want to find a job that I can maintain… I’m looking for something lower level… I think I want full-time as the idea of freelancing sounds good until it’s reality and one never gets any time off and has to constantly pitch herself to obtain gigs and beg people to pay on time which requires a whole host of organization skills I do not have and do not expect to acquire anytime soon. I’d rather find a lower-paying job where I can work for a company that I believe in (with a “for good” mission) and where I can be good at my job. I still am not sure if it makes sense to drop from $200k-ish in salary to $100k in salary but at this point I have $0k in salary so really it’s not much of a drop, now is it?

I plan to start applying for jobs slowly this summer and more aggressively in October after my very belated honeymoon trip (separate form this Japan trip) … I think by then I’ll be more than ready to get back into the swing of life-slavery and have kicked the travel bug which is that buzzing noise always saying “you make good money but don’t have time to travel before you have kids which is the only time you’ll have to travel until you’re old and retired and can’t walk.” So, I’ve checked off much of Japan and I’ll hit New Zealand and possibly Australia in early fall… I have many other places on my list but for now I’m reminded how wonderful yet how DRAINING traveling is and how two weeks of travel really is ENOUGH unless you want to push yourself beyond your comfort zone (or you just love travel in a way I love my bed at home and cuddling in my husband’s arms.)

Grass is always greener.

I’m tempted to start applying to a zillion jobs now but it doesn’t make sense… I need to figure out what I want first. And I have a few things coming up and the trip in September so – if I can play my cards right I’ll have a job offer by mid September then go on my trip and come back to employment. That would be perfect. Well, I still need to figure out the whole baby-making thing since, surprise, surprise, my first foray into infertility treatments didn’t work (and I’m $2000 in the hole so far form them, yippee.) I probably should try REALLY hard to get a job at a company that covers infertility treatments because even with a $100k job that will be worth a lot for a year or two. If only one of those fancy big companies would hire me… but they won’t… because the only companies who will hire me want someone who will do 290852093582095820958230958 jobs for the price and headcount of one, i.e. small companies who want one person to do the job that would be done by a team at a larger company. And, so, that’s probably where I’ll end up again… but I’m going to try to get out of this vicious cycle and focus on having kids, if possible.

Infertility: Another Test, Another Thousand Dollars

$750. That’s the cost of just one more test which is needed to start the process of attempting to have a child. That’s on top of $400 for the initial ultrasound and about $500 for the bloodwork and genetic testing and male fertility analysis that’s required, or $1650 before we even get started. Then, we pay $1250 for 3 months of monitored medication (plus $100 or so for the actual medication) with a grand finale of turkey baster attempted-impregnation—all which very well may not work, leaving us about $3000 in the hole with nothing to show for it other than the first etchings of emotional scars which will likely be dug even deeper.

Now, $3000 isn’t that much to have a child. But that’s just Phase 1 of a likely long and costly journey to parenthood. This, of course, doesn’t include the cost of taking off from work for doctor’s appointments (which are so perfectly timed to occur during the first months of having a new boss who is likely looking for reasons to remove and replace me in order to build her dream team.) It also doesn’t include any of the suggested “to dos” in order to become more fertile, such as acupuncture or anything to de-stress (i.e. replacing a high-paid high-stress job with a much lower paid, lower-stress job.) Continue reading

Happy New Year: Embracing Myself as Myself

 

Quite randomly I ended up taking a neuropsychological screening this week. Well, it wasn’t entirely random. I was attempting to find a therapist (psychologist, psychiatrist, MFT, social worker, what have you) that accepted my insurance plan since theoretically I am supposed to be able to have $20-per-session visits for outpatient mental healthcare. Searching my insurance provider’s website however returned the names of hundreds of doctors who are no longer practicing or specialists for something that, despite being rather special myself, I’m not special enough for (i.e. serves youth or geriatric patients only.) I admit I didn’t call the entire list, but after about 20 google searches, emails and contacts I felt like giving up. Then, I found someone who responded to my email and said he was covered by my insurance (sort of) and could help.

This doctor didn’t do talk therapy. Instead, he is a neuropsychologist who does neuropsychological screenings. What on earth is that? Yesterday I found out. The screening itself is $1700. Insurance may cover that BUT they only decide after you get evaluated. Also, I believe it goes to my deductible anyway, so I’m basically paying for it out of pocket, or at least out of FSA. So much for the $20 per session mental healthcare. Continue reading

Here’s To Getting Pregnant in 2017

There will be plenty of TMI posts this year, so if you prefer to avoid reading about infertility and all the fun that goes along with trying to get pregnant when your body doesn’t work properly, quit reading now. If you want to follow along with my journey attempting to get pregnant, then read ahead.

Infertility can be caused by many different issues — endometriosis, ovulation problems, poor egg quality, PCOS, tube blockages (male and female), sperm problems, sperm allergies, and general unexplained infertility. Or, if you’re really lucky, you can have a combination of any of the above. Continue reading