Last week after my subpar phone consult with Dr. RE, I made a call to the head of the agency I donated my eggs through. She and I have spoken on a few occasions throughout this process, and I was hoping she would be able to give me some guidance. After all, she works with women who are trying to conceive (and their doctors) on a daily basis.
She did me one better than just giving me guidance though; she set me up with a phone consult with an RE who actually works at one of the clinics I donated through.
He agreed to talk to me for free (which is big in RE land – my phone consults with Seattle Reproductive Medicine have run me up to $200 before), just to answer some of my questions and give me a second opinion as best he could without having my medical history in front of him.
I was warned that he was a bit of a codger and had a habit of being incredibly blunt, but that overall he was a very good RE who specialized in being up front.
And up front was really what I wanted.
I had my consult with him this morning, and upfront he was.
Sometimes we get what we ask for.
He took almost immediate issue with my pursuing motherhood as a single woman. I don’t think it was that he has any problems with single mothers by choice per se, but I think he clearly has an issue with a woman pursuing that option solely because she thinks she doesn't have any other choice.
According to him, I still have other choices.
Now, keep in mind that this doctor hasn’t seen any of my medical records at all since I donated my eggs 2 ½ years ago (when I was a lean, mean, egg making machine). I have run into this before where doctors simply don’t believe the aggression of my disease until they see my records for themselves. Every doctor who has seen those records though has instantly told me that it was a good thing I was pursuing my options now, while there was still hope.
Every doctor who has been made fully aware of my case has agreed that waiting would be a bad idea.
Not this doctor though. He claimed that I was being over medicalized, and that given my age I still had time. I explained to him that my eggs this round were only rated “fair”, after being “excellent” just a few years ago, but he still said that as long as I had my ovaries and a uterus; I had time to wait for that husband to be in the picture.
I asked him what I was supposed to do if my next surgery suddenly resulted in the doctors not being able to save anything (which has been a definite possibility for a while now). His response was that I should “live with the pain and not have surgery at all until after you've had kids.”
Ha. This man has obviously never had endometriosis. I am deeply opposed to another surgery anytime soon, but when my endo is at its peak; there is no living with that pain. There is staying in bed hopped up on pain killers 24/7, but that isn’t living. Both of my last 2 surgeries have been a necessity if I wanted to continue functioning.
He pushed the point though. He asked me if I really wanted to be a single mother.
I thought for a second, and then I said “I want to be a mother.”
He of course called me out on my evasion of the question, but what could I say? I’ve never denied that this wouldn’t be my number one choice, but I know I can handle it; I know I am capable. And if it’s between this or the possibility of losing my chance entirely?
Well, in my mind there is no choice.
In his mind though, being a single mother in Alaska is not ideal.
He seemed to have an issue with Alaska in general. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I would rather be a single mother here than in California any day!
He did tell me that I should still “have fun with” those two ice babies since they’re there, because once I did find a husband they would be useless to me –my husband obviously wouldn’t want me to use them.
Codger.
I didn’t really want to argue with him though. I know that this is the right decision for me now, and I also know that those two embryos are pretty much it. I simply couldn’t afford another round of IVF even if I wanted to; there really is nothing to argue.
If this doesn’t work, I’ll be playing the “wait and see” game anyway.
I’d like to be irritated with him for being so vocal about his distaste of my choices (which he seemed to think were the result of my being manipulated and filled with fear by my current doctors), but knowing he really has no clue how extreme my case is – I couldn’t hold a grudge. I’m simply of the mind that if so much damage happened so quickly, there really is no time to wait; you never know what tomorrow could hold. I’m not willing to be stuck looking back saying “I wish I had tried when there was still time.”
But, I can respect his opinion and accept that he doesn’t know me or my doctors at this point; so he has nothing to go off of there. When you don't know the entire situation, I am sure it is easy to assume that decisions have been made too abruptly.
And really, his medical advice beyond that was spot on.
He was the first doctor to admit to me that there is probably something to my hunch that my donations sped up the progression of my disease. He was quick to say that the drugs wouldn’t have caused my endometriosis (which I have always said myself), but that it was completely logical that they could have amped it into high gear (again – what I have always believed). This really has no bearing on how I feel about my decision to donate (I will still never regret it), but it was nice to hear a confirmation from someone in the medical community that my theories are not completely off base.
He said that fertility treatments for women with endometriosis are kind of a vicious cycle. You’re treating infertility, but the medications involved could theoretically ramp up the disease that causes the infertility in the first place.
It’s a delicate game to play, and I am now even more convinced that I need to be extra wary of synthetic hormones being put into my body. It’s worth it if I get pregnant, but I need to be careful not to tip that balance.
He wasn’t overly concerned about my uterine lining at the time of transfer, and he did say that there is no research that suggests a thicker lining could inhibit implantation. He also wasn’t concerned about my low progesterone levels. According to him, the Prometrium suppositories are absorbed into the uterus, not the blood stream. It’s not uncommon for the blood levels to remain low in the beginning.
So, on both of those issues he actually agreed with Dr. RE. This should have made me feel better about using the suppositories for the next round, but I’m still wary. I’ve heard of too many women now who simply don’t absorb the progesterone that way for whatever reason. If it is even a possibility that could have been me, I know I would feel more comfortable just taking the shots. I just think I will always worry about it otherwise.
The final thing we discussed was a test he suggested I have done which looks at the endometrial tissue to see if it is healthy enough for an embryo to implant. It's called the Endometrial Function Test, and the lab conducting this research is at Yale. He said he could send me all the paperwork though, and I could have my current doctor collect the sample and send it there.
I've been worried that there may have been some other reason this embryo didn't implant, and this test could tell me if there was.
The problem? After everything is said and done, it will likely cost me around $1000. Now, I would be all about spending this money if it would tell me something definitive and give me a course of action for success next time. When I asked him what the treatment was if the results came back poor though, he said it was a regimen of surgery and Lupron.
Been there. Done that.
Of course, he did say that women who have been found to have this condition tend to have better success rates with frozen embryos than with fresh cycles. According to him, this is because of the difference in protocol leading up to the transfer. Something about that did give me more hope in this frozen cycle than I had before.
I’m just not sure I need to pay for this test to find out if I have this condition simply so that I can have more hope going into my frozen transfer.
I haven’t really decided what I’m going to do there. More and more every day I’m starting to let go of this need to know if something else is wrong; this desire to find answers where it’s possible that none exist. There is still that voice in my head that is whispering that there could be more to the picture here; but I’m realizing I could make myself crazy trying to figure that out.
It may just be time to let go and let God.
Either way, talking to someone else did make me feel a bit more secure about moving forward; about trusting the doctors and simply hoping for the best.
At this point, I’m not sure there are any more answers to find.
All I know, is that I want to be a mother.
ADSPACE
