Going Balls Out!

Recently I made the decision to start a small business.  No, it's not because I need another job or the small income it could contribute. While I have a good job that I enjoy doing most days of the week, my real enjoyment comes from baking.  Actually it's not so much that I enjoy the doing of it as much as I enjoy baking things that make others happy.  After all, standing for hours on end in one place making multiple messes that have to later be cleaned isn't a lot of fun.  But seeing someone really enjoy whatever it is that I made, makes it all worth it!

Since high school I've loved to bake. I've been fortunate to have some great cooks in my life along with people who loved to eat what I cooked. My husband loves my baking, but we can't eat the amounts of sweets that I want to bake.  Well, we could - but we shouldn't.  

This past weekend I made 3 dozen Toy Story themed cupcakes for my nephew's 5th birthday.  Actually I started working on them earlier in the week and probably spent about 12 hours creating what I thought turned out to be pretty cute characters.  Two dozen Buzz Lightyears and one dozen three-eyed alien cupcakes later,  seeing the smiles on the mouths of about 25 kiddos made it all worth while. My nephew though doesn't eat cake.  How does a kid not like cake???  Especially one related to me.   

By no means am I what you'd call "business-minded," nor do I have a business plan or anything of that sort prepared.  But that's not going to stop me from going "balls out" with this idea.  Before you start thinking that I'm being crude, please allow me to define "balls out" - originally it referred to the governor on old steam engines that had two balls that rotated across one another.  The speed of the engine was determined by how fast they spun.  "Balls out" meant going full speed or power.  More recently it's been used to mean that you're giving your all in a certain situation.  And that's what I'm going to do! 

So just what is it that I'm going to go balls out doing?  I'm going to make and sell cakeballs.  Yes, I said cakeballs. If you're not familiar with what cake balls are, they are a one or two bite dessert that is basically cake mixed with frosting and then dipped in either white or milk chocolate and decorated.   

Cakeballs are quite delicious and addictive.  And I've become pretty good at making them.   The ones above are some I made at Christmas for my co-workers. The white ones are coconut cakeballs (my favorite) and the reindeer are german chocolate.  I've done a variety of flavors in addition to coconut and german chocolate - vanilla, strawberry, apple pie, champagne, Oreo cookie, banana pudding, and margarita. Below are a few pictures of ones I've done this year.  Some look better than others, but they are were all delicious. 

Yes - my idea may be a bit ballsey (meaning "a confident individual who is not afraid to stand out in a crowd).  But I'm going to go balls out trying.  So if you know anyone who wants to buy cakeballs - let me know.   Cakeball Creations by Kelly will soon be in business. I do plan to be able to ship these tasty treats too. If anyone has an artistic bone and would like to sketch out a design for my logo, then let's talk!  Leave a comment with how I can reach you to talk about it.

March will bring IVF #5.  I'll certainly be going balls out for that too.  Here's to hoping that I have good luck with both of these ballsey efforts!

My Christmas Carol Song List - Lyrics by The Fertility Grinch

Christmas.  It's been said that It's the Most Wonderful Time....of the Year.  A time when Christians around the world celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ....Away in a Manager...on a Silent Night.  Holy Night.  A time when families and friends join together to Deck the Halls and watch Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire.  A time when children are told that Santa Claus is Coming to Town.  And, for those who are like me, a time when you seem to think you can do everything in that last week before Christmas. 

As I flew like a flash last week finishing my shopping, wrapping, baking several dozen coconut cake balls, reindeer balls, a coconut cake, a few dozen cookies, along with divinity and fudge (about 15 pounds worth) - I think I must have inhaled too much sugar. For those who have ever made candy, you know how tricky (and sometimes sticky) it can be.  I think my brain even cooked to the hard-crack stage. 

I love to cook.  I especially love to bake and make sweets.  And I love to give these treats to friends and family who appreciate them.  Some people don't appreciate it though and have actually given the homemade treats back to me.   I'm not certain if that's indicative of their devotion to their diet or just poor manners - I tend to believe the latter, but that's a topic of another blog.  Either way, such actions feel about the same as when sugar syrup boiling at 180 degrees splatters on me. It hurts.  To be sure,  those peope will be on my naughty list next year. 

I made one new year resolution in 2011 - to finish more things that I started.  So while cooking this week, I found it an opportune time to finish a bottle of Moscato, some vodka and cranberry juice, and some Bailey's Irish Cream.  I'm not a lush by any means, but those bottles were taking up much needed real estate in the fridge - and I had to do what I had to do to free up some space.  That said, I enjoyed a few hours in the kitchen each night last week baking and preparing my Christmas goodies.  Perhaps I was encouraged somewhat by the alcohol, but I sang Christmas carols (loudly) as I baked.   Traditional ones.  Pop ones.  Parodied Ones...Bob Rivers is my favorite - The Restroom Door Said Gentlemen cracks me up every time I hear it.  Only my dog can attest to how badly I sounded - and fortunately he can't speak.

As I sipped and sang, I thought of the previous few months and how I was like a little girl waiting on Santa to come down the chimney to bring me the gift I had asked for - a real, live baby.  I was a good girl all year (that's my story and I'm sticking to it) and deserved to get what I had asked for.  But then, on Christmas Day, I awoke only to find I didn't get what I had asked for.  The Fertility Grinch had visited my Whohaville...again. 

Thinking about how another infertile Christmas was upon me, compounded by the sugar fumes & vodka, I came up with my own personal Christmas carol song list. I think it's most appropriate that these would be carols because the word "carol" actually means part of the song is repeated over and over.  I know that there's a whole choir of woman around the world who could join me in song.  Some of the titles the Fertility Grinch wrote:

• Here I come a waddling (Each round of IVF has left weight that I can't shake.)
• Do you Hear what I hear?  (I swear the hormones made me a little nutty.)
• All I want for Christmas is a BFP (big fat positive) on an HPT (home pregnancy test)
• Let it Go. Let it Go. Let it Go.  (This is what insensitive people say I need to do.)
• We Wish it were a Fertile Christmas
• Santa (bring me) A Baby
• Still. Still. Still....not pregnant.
• God Rest Ye Weary Uterus

I found myself saying "I'm doing fine" so often after IVF #4 didn't work that I found

"Carol of Intimacy" on Saturday Night Live to be quite an appropriate Christmas carol too.  Fortunately, I will have another chance to re-write the lyrics to my Christmas carols in 2012. I don't expect the Fertility Grinch will be visiting my Whohaville again.  You're a Mean One ...Mr. Grinch.  We look forward to beginning our next IVF cycle in March using a new donor. 

Maybe this time next year, we'll be singing the Hallelujah Chorus.  Hoping that everyone had a wonderful Christmas and holiday season!   I'm looking forward to what the new year will bring!  Here's to Hope for a better one. 

Reasons to be Thankful

Three days before Thanksgiving, I learned that my 4th IVF cycle failed.  I honestly found it hard to find something for which to be thankful in the midst of my heartbreak.  However it didn't take long for me to realize how thankful I am for the strength, love and support my husband, my family, my friends, my doctor & his practice, my co-workers, an my Junior League sisters.  Without all of them - and you - I don't think I would have been able to rebound as quickly.  Thank you for your love and your continued thoughts and prayers.   If you're wondering why there's a picture of a mule, stay with me....

You are reading this blog for some reason.  Maybe I've struck a cord in your heart and you have a better understanding about what people with infertility deal with.  Perhaps you are considering IVF, have done IVF, know someone who has done IVF, had no clue what all was involved with IVF, or just have some crazy curiosity about IVF....or maybe you just like me and my story.  And that's a perfectly great reason too!  

While I've wanted to add more to my blog, I've felt like my head and my heart just had nothing much to say.  And my funnybone was oddly quiet.  The normal, everyday stuff which I often find so  much humor in just wasn't as funny to me.  I had no stories of stirrups, injections, or earworms laying their song eggs in my head. 

Before going any further, I should explain.  It started as a "Lord, I am so thankful for...." conversation.  I went through my list of people who make my life better and more interesting.  That was followed by how thankful I am for Houston Fertility Institute and Dr. Griffith because I will get another chance to do IVF again using an egg donor - a different one though, and at a greatly reduced cost.  Thoughts wandered to much less significant things that I was thankful for as well - you know, things like the printer actually working when I was in a rush to get out the door the other day, Starbucks' Skinny Carmel Macchiato, that I can order a lot of Christmas presents online and not have to do the crowded mall (or maul) thing that I despise...well, you see where this was going.

And then my funnybone woke up.  It was thankful too....

• Thankful that all of the IVF expenses may be a tax write-off this year!  
• Thankful that even though my body could be in better shape (although, round is a shape) - my uterus is in excellent shape. 
• Thankful that we aren't looking for a sperm donor.
• Thankful that I didn't have any baby showers to attend this last month. 
• Thankful that I don't have to do those horrible Progesterone in Oil injections anymore!
• Thankful that I had a still had reason to have gained weight around Thanksgiving and that it wasn't just me eating too much.  (That's my story and I'm sticking to it!)
• Thankful that I can have caffeine again!

Looking at the big-picture weeks later, I realize I  have much for which to be thankful.  It's challenging to not become focused on the things I don't have - namely children to take to see Santa, the energy (and the figure) that I did when I was 25, and to be 42 with children going off to Texas A&M like many of my friends do (I have smart friends).  But I do have resilience and am stubborn as a mule at times. (Now you get the picture above?)  And for those qualities, I am very thankful.  Without them, this journey would have long since ended.  No one promised this journey through infertility would be easy.  But I've gotten really good at putting my feet in the stirrups  (though not the kind attached to a saddle) and am ready to mount up on this horse again and give it another go!

Until then, I'll try to post more often - I'm working on my 12 Days of Infertility song next.  Merry Christmas to my Christian friends, Happy Hanukkah to my Jewish friends - and to eveyrone else - Happy Holidays.  I'm looking forward to celebrating Christmas with my family as we honor the birth of Christ, our Lord. 

And the Journey Continues....

Have you ever just had a gut feeling about something and then were crushed to find out you were horribly wrong? If so, then you can imagine how I felt when THE call came in at 11:15 this morning.  You see, my blood test was actually today and not next Monday. I was so confident that this 4th round of IVF had worked that I didn't tell anyone that the prenancy test was today (except my husband).  I wanted to be able to surprise everyone at Thanksgiving with the wonderful news.  Unfortunately that won't be the case - at least not this Thanksgiving.

Usually (at least with my other 3 IVF attempts) THAT call comes in the afternoon.  I have heard from my friends who tested positive that their calls came prior to lunch, so when the phone rang at 11:15, I was excited.  But the moment I heard the nurse's voice, I knew it wasn't the outcome we had hoped and prayed for.  "Kelly," the nurse said softly, "I am so sorry, but the test was negative." 

I didn't think I listened to anything else the nurse told me, nor do I recall ending the call.  Instead I ran inside and went straight to bed and sobbed for several hours.  Despite the endless consolation offered by my husband, nothing helped.  I just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed some more.  I think I soaked my pillow. 

After about an hour, Michael called the family and told them of the news.  They were all equally as stunned as I was that the test was negative - and as heartbroken.  Michael and I so very fortunate to have such strong families to help us through such difficult times.  For that I am so thankful. 

I'm digging deep today for strength.  I am resilient and VERY stubborn.  Mr. Countis, my all-time favorite teacher, told me that he didn't think I could play a Category I piano arrangement at UIL competition.  After all, I played French Horn - not the piano.  I guess he knew that telling me I couldn't do something would only make me try harder.  A month later, I returned home from that competition with the top award.  Yes, stubborness is a good quality to have if you are infertile.  In fact, it's a requirement.  As I've said before, infertility is not for the faint-hearted.

My devotional reading yesterday said "Thank Me for everything; trust in Me at all times."  This morning's said "Thank Me throughout this day for My Presence and My Peace."   It's almost like the devotionals were foreshadowing of what was coming.  It's very difficult to be thankful when the outcome isn't what we had hoped.  Of course we ask for God's will to be done in our lives, but I can't understand why His will isn't for us to be parents right now.  But I have to trust that He has a better plan in store for me.

I have an amazing doctor.  He called this evening to see how I was doing. We spent 25 minutes discussing what went wrong and our next steps and have a meeting with him tomorrow to come up with a plan.    Ultimately, according to him we "just got a bad batch of eggs this time", and that it's "extremely unusual for egg donors to not work" - and we have an "extremely high liklihood of it working next time."   As he reminded me, "You've already paid for the experience, we're here to help you achieve the outcome you desire."

If you know me, you know that I'm a planner. My co-workers joke that when I do get pregnant, I'll likely draw up a logic model to plan it all out.  Yes.  I probably will.  But for now, we'll meet with the doctor to talk about which donors would be the best for us based on what they know about the donors.  The doctor said that he'd waive his personal fees and will work with us on all the others.  This speaks volumes of Houston Fertility Institute, and particularly of Dr. Griffith.

It's now been 11 hours since THAT call came in.  I've quit sobbing - for now.  I have come to terms with the negative outcome that today brought. This is just a bump in the road along the way on this journey.  It's not the first, but I hopefully it'll be the last.  I'm NOT giving up hope.  I'm holding on so tightly that I'll probably get rope burn.  

   

Eat. Pray. Laugh. - My Journey through Infertility

Before you say anything, I know the name of this blog sounds like a best-selling novel or movie starring Julia Roberts. And perhaps, if it's written well-enough it will become that.  Since Valerie Bertineli and I resemble each other (a lot), she could play me. (Valerie have your people call my people).  Anyway....the novel you're thinking of is Eat. Pray. LOVE.  But after thinking of all that I've been through over the last nearly 6 years of fertility testing, infertility diagnosis, surgeries to help infertility, infertility treatments, infertility acupuncture, surgery to remove my one good ovary that the last doctor destroyed, more tears than one person could possibly cry in a lifetime, more time, more tests, more treatments, TONS of hormones mostly given as shots to myself (after the first 3 IVF rounds I had given or had given to me about 150 injections), and a small fortune all in the hopes of getting pregnant...well, there was nothing I loved about any of that. So - I replaced LOVE with LAUGH...because without laughter at moments throughout this whole journey, I'm not sure I would've made it through. After all, you can only cry so much and we don't have flood insurance, so the sobbing had to stop after a while. 



For the last month and a half, I've been hormonally manipulated, scoped, poked and prodded more than something that gets scoped, poked and prodded a lot. I can't think of any funny analogy to use here, so if you have one...let me know. Fertility treatments are not for the faint-hearted. Or for the shy. Since I started just this round of IVF, I've lost count of the number of people who have seen my lady parts.  My vajay-jay, my hoo ha.  Not just the doctor (who happens to be a dead ringer for my high school boyfriend KRB...talk about awkard), but also the 10 or so nurses, the ultrasonographers, the interns, and who knows who was watching during my hysteroscopy last month! Fertility treatments are NOT for the shy. After going through IVF treatment three other times, plus practically every two to three days for the last month, on a recent visit to the ER this weekend (MOM - I AM FINE), I hardly noticed I was walking down the hall with the gown wide open in the back. I just thought it was really cold in there. With my jacked-up hormones, my body doesn't know if it is at the North Pole or having it's own personal summer (borrowed from my sister-in-law).  


To be clear - there's nothing funny about infertility.  But you can't help but laugh at some of the stuff you go through.  One good thing is that I can, for at least a short period of time, chalk up some behavior that's not typical of me as "the hormones."   Wonder how long I can use that excuse??  On the the next topic of this blog....


Eat.  While this isn't the focus of this blog, because it's in the title of it - I feel compelled to give it a shout-out.  Food is often what brings my family to the table (figuratively and literally).  I come from a family of great cooks, and I love to cook.  I am blessed with a husband who is not a picky eater and who is a master at the grill and holds his own with anything else he cooks. I love when I come home on days he's off and he's got a healthy, delicious dinner prepared for me (and cleans the kitchen along the way).  We actually met at a local Mexican food restaurant and will probably eat there for our 5th anniversary this week.  Sharing meals with and baking for those I love is something I love to do. The holiday season is where I usually go crazy with the baking, but this holiday season may bring about a different type of bun in the oven.  It's likely that foods I make or eat somewhere else will show up on the way in this blog.   For example, this weekend I have to make a bazillion peanut butter bon bons for the Junior League's Holiday Market which is next weekend.  I've never made these bon bons so it looks like The Mistakery Bakery will be open late hours....

Pray.  Quite simply, I need your prayers. Next week(-ish) Michael & I will be doing our 4th in vitro fertilization (IVF) procedure. The previous three IVFs all failed due to my egg quality.  And due to the fact that with the 3rd IVF procedure the doctor retrieved my eggs with what I think was a crow bar which resulted in a life-threatening abdominal blood clot (and subsequent ovary removal), I have no good eggs left. I couldn't put all my eggs in one basket if I COULD find them because there are none. This said, I am using an egg donor. [Gasp]. Yes, after looking through pages of potential egg donors, I selected one that looks practically identical to me: gorgeous, young, 5'9", blond hair, blue eyes.... [I'm 42, 5'3" on a good day, brunette, brown eyes].  Actually she does favor me to a great extent and has a similar personality based on a few questions she answered.  


Her donor # is 604. When I think of her as #604, I can't help but insert an imaginary tag in her ear like our cows have. #604 is anonymous to me and has been screened for psych issues, infectious disease, certain genetic conditions, etc. In fact, she's probably more sane that I am after under-going three freaking rounds of IVF!   All those hormones tend to do a number on you.  Anyway, back to #604 - she has children of her own and is 26. She is really beautiful and petite.  I know little else about #604 except her medical history. However, I have an amazingly good feeling about this donor.  I wish I could let her know that there are a lot of people praying for her.  I had to sign a waiver that I wouldn't try to find out who she was, but if anyone out there reading this is donor #604 with Houston Fertility Institute - thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing your eggs. 


The way is works essentially is that #604 will take a lot of hormones to cause her body to produce a lot of eggs. Soon, her eggs will be retrieved from her body (by a different no-crowbar weilding doctor) where they will then be fertilized in the lab using Michael's sperm. After 5 days, the best 1-2 embryos will be transferred to my uterus. And then we wait....for a long several weeks to see if it worked. During that time, I'll closely watch for every possible sign and symptom of early pregnancy. I'll watch the my body like it's never been watched (at least not in this past decade) to see if I detect any minute changes.  I'll worry about twinges of cramping that I'll surely feel and in fact, I'll probably imagine some symptoms. It's probably a good thing that Michael will be deer hunting a lot during this time as I'll still be very hormonally jacked-up and basically a nut. 


As a Christian, I am a firm believer in the power of prayer. As a behavioral scientist, I read a lot of studies - multiple studies have examined the effect of prayer on IVF treatment - specifically involving the embryo transfer part (which is what I'm having done). Many of these studies have shown statistically significant differences for the effect of prayer on the outcome of IVF-embryo transfer (50% positive outcome vs. 26% - which is really good) For my fellow statistic geeks p=.0013.  This number basically means that it wasn't a fluke.  


So - if you pray, please specifically thank God for the doctors and for the technology to enable infertile couples to fulfill lifelong dreams of having a family, and for the donors who share a very personal part of themselves with someone they'll never know. Pray for #604 to produce an adequate number of good quality eggs that become fertilized. Pray for Michael - he's had to deal with a very hormonal me for a while and has been a huge support to me. And lastly - pray for me. Ask that my body be prepared for the receipt of a precious embryo and that it is able to provide it with the perfect home to grow. I don't know the exact date of the procedure yet, but it looks like it will be the end of next week.


I feel very confident that this will work this time. At least I really really really hope it does. Maybe I should change the name of this blog to Eat. Pray. Hope. After all, I've held on to hope for so long that I fear I may get rope burn.  But I have this crazy confidence this time- like the glass is full and overflowing confidence (and I'm not usually an optimist) - that it WILL work.  I have #604.  And we have a ton of friends and family praying for us.   If you're still reading this blog, I hope that you'll join the prayer chain and pray for #604, the doctors, and my uterus.