Part 11 - Barging In

Things started setting down after a couple months and Christi and I decided it was time to try again. Christi scheduled a visit with Dr. Vaughn and added it to my calendar. Because I am an idiot, I can’t maintain my own calendar. Otherwise… I would set at home watching the Cartoon Channel or Hogan’s Heroes all day. I'm not kidding... I’m lucky I make it to work each day.

Our visit was scheduled for 10:15am on November 3rd. I was supposed to meet Christi at the doctor’s office at 10am. I left at 9:45am headed toward Dr. Vaughn’s office (15 minutes gave me plenty of time to get there). At 10am, I was one mile from my office and I could not figure out how to get on the new toll way… I hate being late. After going the wrong way for 5 miles to find the entrance ramp, I finally made it to the doctor’s office. It was now 10:30am and I was panicked. My spider-sense said Christi was pissed. When the elevator arrived on the second floor, I immediately saw a nurse. In a rush, I explained that I was late and that I needed to find my wife. She led me through the hallway reading each chart in the little file outside the door. When she found Christi’s chart she knocked lightly. I didn’t let her finish knocking before I burst into the room.

See… in Dr. Vaughn’s office… they put the patient’s chart on the door before the previous patient in the room leaves. Yes… I charged right in on some poor woman. Luckily the curtain was drawn and Dr. Vaughn managed pull his head out from under the hood long enough to see me and shout: “NOT YOUR WIFE, NOT YOUR WIFE, NOT YOUR WIFE.” The nurse yanked me out of the room, apologized, and walked me to the waiting room where Christi was calmly reading a magazine. My heart was beating so fast, my face was red, and I was out of breath. I fully accept the definition of Idiot.

After meeting with Dr. Vaughn we learned several things:

1. We do the embryo transfer in one week
2. Christi would re-start her shots in two days
3. Only 75% of the embryos makes it out of the freeze
4. Always knock before entering

Part 12 - Try... Try... Again

Part 10 – Down Time

That following Sunday morning, after we heard the bad news, Christi and I did not speak much. It seemed like not talking about our emotions would keep them at bay for just a little longer. Dr. Vaughn called shortly after lunch. The call was exactly what we needed. He expressed his concern for us and reminded us that we had four frozen embryos ready when we were ready. Now I know why we left the Houston fertility clinic. We received a personal phone call from the head of the clinic… on a Sunday... and he was genuinely concerned about us. Whether this is something he does for all of his patients or we developed a special bond with Dr. Vaughn… I don’t know. I would hope that every one of his patients experience the same commitment we did.

We had four embryos in the ice-box waiting for a chance to be our children. Dr. Vaughn recommended we get started right away. The initial doctor visit showed we were ready. Christi scheduled an appointment with the hospital to do the transfer. We were ready to let another try pull us out of this rut. Unfortunately, life doesn’t follow our schedule.

Our first scheduled redo was interrupted when Christi came down with a horrible toothache. After a visit with the dentist it was determined that she would need a root canal. Painkillers and antibiotices that come along with a root canal aren't exactly safe for the baby; we would have to wait another month. Another month of living with the thought that this may never work for us.

The following month continued to suck the life and momentum out of our parenthood. The sonogram showed that Christi's uterus wasn't ready. The bad news… we would have to wait another month.

The next month put this entire process in perspective for the both of us. Before we got a chance to schedule our next transfer appointment, we were awoken by a phone call from Christi’s mom. Christi’s grandpa, Sam, had been rushed to the emergency room and things didn’t look good. Sam had been in and out of the hospital for most of the summer. We knew his health was deteriorating but no matter how much you prepare mentally, you are never prepared for death. Christi spent the last week of Sam’s life by his side. She rarely ate and never slept because she was not going to let him die alone. This defines my wife. One moment she’s screaming like a mad woman while leaping over four rows of bleachers at the baseball game because a bug flew within 12 feet of her head… the next she is awake for four consecutive nights making sure her grandfather is comfortable. Christi has more integrity than anyone I have ever met... that's what makes a great mother.

Depression and sleep deprivation don’t improve the odds of making babies… so without question a baby would have to wait. Like I said, life doesn’t follow our schedule.

On to Part 11... Will this ever end?

Part 9 - News Day

Thanks Christi for writing the last blog. Daniel’s back with a brand new edition, hopefully addition.

The following seven days were agonizing. Christi was on house-arrest and we were forced to play a demented waiting game. The next step was to wait ten days and take a blood test. In the meantime, we discussed every nuance of Christi’s bodily functions. Gas… is gas bad? What about heartburn… is that a good sign? Every time Christi burped, I wanted to catch it in a zip-lock bag and take it to the lab for analysis.

As I muddled through the week, I kept thinking that Dr. Vaughn had put the best two embryos in Christi. Chance… how strange a word. I kept focusing my attention on the statistics of In Vitro Fertilization. The chance of getting pregnant was all over the place… 40%, 60%, 50%. Each website contradicted the last.

I kept making the mental adjustments to the numbers:

• We are both under the age of 40, that’s worth an extra 10% right?
• Christi is physically fit, that’s another 5% right?
• She followed every doctor order; give her 3% for good behavior.

Mentally, it’s such a strange situation. Christi and I were both believers in thinking positively… but… we wanted to have realistic expectations so our rebound wouldn’t be horrible if it didn’t work.

We arrived at the lab on Saturday at around 7am. As I looked around the waiting room it was apparent that these were not people hoping to find out that they would soon be parents. These visitors looked depressed, tired, almost run over by life. My thoughts circled around AIDS and pregnant teens. I felt very selfish.

After a short wait, Christi was escorted to the back to draw blood and returned within 10 minutes. For the rest of the day we tried to keep ourselves busy until 3pm – when the results would be ready. Looking back, I don’t even remember what we did all day. At exactly 3:00pm, Christi called the nurse who answered but did not have our test results yet.

We were headed home from a long day when the nurse called Christi’s cell. Christi put the phone on speaker so we could both hear. (My heart is pounding, right now just, from thinking about that moment.) The first two words came out of that little phone like a bullet through both of our hearts, “I’m Sorry…” That’s all I heard. My ears turned off because the voice in my head was screaming. WHAT?!?! WHY? NO! IT’S NOT RIGHT. IT’S NOT FAIR! I wanted to cry. I tried to cry but even that seemed like it took too much effort.

Christi very patiently and politely thanked the nurse for calling us back and we drove home in silence. The rest of the weekend was wickedly quiet.

Just the two of us.

Keep reading. It's got to get better ;-)