Baby Daddy

Let's be honest: sperm banks can be confusing, and can a little creepy. We were happy with the bank that we used before and feel confident in their policies, so we are going with them again.

After several nights of surfing through baby photos, family medical history, and celebrity look alike photos, we've narrowed it down to three options.

Our philosophy is that since it's my egg, it's really my wife's job to bring the sperm to the party, if you will. We want a donor that resembles her and has some of her characteristics... artistic, kind, smart, etc. We veto features that we couldn't imagine on our child. My wife is peculiar about noses. I'm picky about eyes.

At the end of the day, medical records are the trump card. I already have cancer running in my family, so no need to add any more of those genes. Some things stand out as immediate disqualifers, especially if it impacts a sibling or close relative. Others highlight longevity, like a common age-related disease diagnosed at age 90. That sounds more like a positive, than a negative to us.

Finally, we have our top three.

Baby daddy #1: Might just be the perfect donor. His childhood photos look a lot like my wife. His celebrity look alikes are dreamy. His health record is clean. We call him freckles because of his cute sprinkling of spots across his nose.

Baby daddy #2: A strong choice, but slipping into the number two spot. He is cute, smart, ambitious, with a passion for travel. He's also Jewish, like my wife, and has a clean (enough) health history.

Baby daddy #3: Easily removed due to his sister having a severe peanut allergy. Might seem silly, but it's one hassle we'll avoid, if given the choice. Anyway, if the baby inherits my food allergies, it will already have enough to deal with:)

It's a tough decision. You want to pick the perfect specimen, literally speaking. You want to give your child the best possible gene pool, especially since it's a choice. I go to sleep thinking about it. I wake up thinking about it. Baby daddy #1 keeps bubbling up to the top. He's my wife's first pick, which also makes him easy to favor. 

We need a few more nights to sleep on it, but I am pretty sure that we've found our guy!

First Appointment: New Doctor

Monday's appointment was everything that we needed it to be. We arrive at a small satellite office, which opens two days each week in a co-op space that the practice shares with other doctors. Walking through the door, there is an immediate difference. The office is smaller, less lavish, more practical. The staff is knowledgable, friendly, down to earth. The doctor spends over an hour with us reviewing our history and potential next steps.

By chance, timing is actually good for my first round of tests. The nurse starts blood work for both me and my wife. The doctor performs an ultrasound to count how many eggs I could potentially have. This is always the fun part... where they say things like "good for your age" to remind you that time is ticking. After we laugh, the doctor adds... "good for anyone's age, really." Promising. We schedule a follow up two weeks from now to review results and make a plan.

Four new tidbits of information came out of this appointment.
1) I still have a good number of eggs! Yay!
2) It turns out that having a friend as your donor (which we were considering as a new option) is more expensive and takes longer than using a bank.
3) Since we are switching to ivf, my CMV factor is no longer an issue.
4) We've been encouraged to look at all blood types for donor selection.

What does all of this mean anyway?

CMV: I tested negative for CMV. This is a virus that affects a high percentage of the population. Once positive, you stay positive. For most, it is not really a big deal; however, if you contract it while pregnant, it can cause all kinds of problems and birth defects (think Zika). I tested negative, which means I would not want my donor to be positive. Since we are doing ivf and not actually sending the little swimmers into my body, I can use CMV positive sperm in the petri dish without risking an infection.

Blood type: It turns out that I am part of the very small population that has B negative blood. So what? If I choose a donor with a positive blood type, then the baby will likely be positive. If this happens, I can actually have an allergic reaction to the baby in womb and it can cause all kinds of problems. The remedy is easy, I am told. It just requires extras shots during pregnancy. Additionally, we were previously encouraged to consider a donor that matched Heather's blood type. This would allow us to both be able to be blood or organ donors to our child, should he or she ever need it.

Given these factors, the choices of donors are very slim. Our new doctor encouraged us to explore all options. The choices went from a handful of options to hundreds.

As you can imagine, we spent Monday night googling egg counts, reading blogs on ivf, and surfing through all of the donor photos that we've hidden over the last five years. Welcome to the pool ... now accepting applications!

Going Back

In preparation for our appointment with our new doctor, we needed to collect our medical records. I decided that the easiest thing to do was to swing by our old doctor's office and pick up a copy.

It hit me softly at first, and then like gale force winds as I entered the door. I had returned to the scene of the crime. It had started so innocently all of those years ago. I remember sitting in the waiting room, giddy with excitement. Then, a realization washed over me. Nothing had turned out as we planned.

The staff were their usual, kind, selves, greeting me with a smile. I sat in the waiting room while the documents were prepared. It struck me that we never actually inseminated at this office. It was the place that I liked most. It felt warm and welcoming. The other office is "where the freezer is" ... so that's where the procedures take place. I had all but forgotten how the waiting room here feels like a friend's living room.

Finally, my patient care coordinator appeared with a package. There it was. Our entire baby making journey summed up in a manilla envelope. It drew me in. I could barely wait to get out of the building to open it. I walked around the corner to a sandwich shop. I stood thumbing through the pages for a few minutes before I even realized that the store was closed. I found another spot where I could grab a bite and read the reports.

There it was in black and white... my numbers:
6 iui cycles, 4 with letrozole
1 biochemical pregnancy
recommendation: ivf

It all feels so far away. Like a lifetime has passed since we were young, clueless, and just starting out on this journey. Now, I sit with a new feeling. It's not quite giddy, but it is hopeful, laced with a bit of fear and a ton of emotion.

Changing Teams

It's time to move forward. After sifting through CDC fertility success rate reports and user reviews on yelp, we've selected a new doctor. We really need a fresh start and this is the first step.

Our first doctor was great - informed, kind, convenient. The practice is multi-office group where you meet with your doctor for consultations, but then receive care from the first available doctor when it comes time treatment. One the one hand, this means that they are available when your body says it's time. This is amazing since your cycle doesn't take time off for holidays or weekends. On the other hand, our doctor never actually performed any of our inseminations. The other doctors were fine, but unfamiliar.

The handling of our miscarriage was most surprising. I assumed that since the staff were so incredibly knowledgable and encouraging about making a baby, that they would also be the same if something went awry. I assumed wrong. I was given very little support beyond basic medical testing requirements. They failed to warn me that that I could become severely dehydrated from blood loss, which my primary care provider and wife helped me through. They didn't even provide a bit of privacy when I came in for blood work over the weeks that would follow. The waiting room was filled with aspiring moms hoping to get a positive pregnancy test; I was waiting for my numbers to drop far enough to confirm that my little sesame seed had passed and would never get to see the light of day.

After the miscarriage, we tried one more iui, which failed. During our next consultation, our doctor advised that we move on to ivf. We needed time. To think, to grieve, to come up with the incredible financial resources required to move forward. While our doctor said that she understood, the accounting department did not. We missed our final payment of $200 and, within a few short weeks, our file was whisked off to collections. I didn't even realized we had a balance. After the thousands of dollars we'd spent, we were turned over to collections for this small oversight, and amidst an incredibly difficult time. The mark on our credit surely will not make it easier to qualify for loans to fund the ivf.

So, here we are two years later. We've spent this time healing. We also had some tough discussions about values and choices, and whether we were prepared to spend so much money on making a baby again, even though there's no guarantee. We've also wondered what life could have been if we had just gone ahead with ivf in the first place. Where would we be? Then, we coped with the realization that you can't go back. You can't wonder. You can only move forward.

So move forward, we did. A year ago we knew that we wanted it, but weren't financially prepared. We have been focusing on career and finances and are ready to move. On Monday, we have an appointment for a consultation with our new doctor, and we can't wait for the adventure ahead!

A little history...

Nearly 5 years ago, my wife and I set out to make a baby. We are a same-sex couple, two women missing just one little ingredient. A problem easy enough to overcome, so we thought. We found an incredible doctor, passed all of the medical tests, chose the perfect donor. I was 35, healthy, ready.

The first appointment is now a blur. I remember getting the negative result and optimistically reassuring myself that it was no problem. That it would happen next time. But there was a problem. Getting pregnant was not going to be the simple 'just one drop' formula that has been engrained in my head since adolescence.

Fast forward. Today, I am 39 years old, about half way to 40. I can feel the window of opportunity closing. I'm mad for taking so much time in between attempts. Still sad, but opening up, about the miscarriage I had two years ago. Happy for the many friends who have brought children into their lives. And compassionate for those who have struggled like me.

We've been through so much on this journey already, financially and emotionally. It's time for the final run. Today, we are making an appointment with a new doctor. It's time to start fresh, get aggressive, and see where this journey takes us.

Throughout the process, I've found it incredibly insightful and comforting to read other people's stories. So, I thought I would share mine.

Hopefully it's helpful for others, and maybe even a little cathartic for me:)