So if news comes in threes, here is your third article about infertility this week. Complete with requisite twisting of the facts for maximum frustration by the infertile reader.

The article is about PGD and follows below. With the article in black and my comments in red. Why red? Because I’m so freakin’ angry. And yes, Carolyn, this is another reporter who needs an email sent to his inbox explaining how the media has a duty to present–not twist–facts.

VITAL EVIDENCE
Increasingly, Couples Use Embryo Screening
Thursday, September 21, 2006; Page A02

More and more couples are turning to an embryo-screening technique that allows them to choose the genetic makeup of their children, according to a survey released yesterday in the online edition of the journal Fertility and Sterility. (Yes, it allows them. Yes, it is possible. No, that is not the primary way it is being used EXCEPT in cases where you are screening for a disease that runs in a specific sex).

Some (note the extremely scientic word “some“) use the test so they can give birth to a child genetically similar to a sick sibling in need of a bone marrow transplant from a matched donor. (How many–give a percentage. Some could be under 1% or some could mean 50%. If this is truly noteworthy, give the specific number of siblings created this way). Others are screening for genetic abnormalities, including some for which the test has not been proved useful. Still others are using it to get a baby of the sex they want. (Again, how many others? How many people have truly gone through IVF and PGD and paid the thousands and endured the treatments in order to get a specific sex of a child that is NOT linked to preventing a genetic illness)

Pre-implantation genetic diagnosis, or PGD, starts with the creation of a “test tube” embryo. At the eight-cell stage of development, one cell is removed, apparently (apparently? This is scientific writing?) without causing lasting harm, for testing. Embryos that pass the test are allowed to develop further and are transferred to a woman’s womb. Others are frozen or discarded (discarded–with the twist being that they want the reader to believe that perfectly healthy embryos are being discarded).

The survey of 186 U.S. fertility clinics, conducted by the Washington-based Genetics and Public Policy Center, found:

· About 75 percent of fertility clinics now offer PGD.

· About 3,000 PGD screenings were performed in 2005 — in 5 percent of all in vitro fertilization procedures.

· Sixty-six percent were done to screen out embryos with chromosomal abnormalities that were feared because the mother was older or had a history of in vitro fertilization failure or miscarriage caused by chromosome problems — even though PGD has not been deemed a reliable test for these problems. (Truly, if it’s not reliable at all, why use the technology? Oh, or are you saying that like all things medical, it’s not a perfect treatment with 100% reliable results? Sort of like cancer drugs. Works for some people, not for others. So…I guess by your logic, we should throw out everything that’s not 100% reliable. All chemo drugs should be dumped out right about now…)

· Forty-two percent of clinics doing PGD offer sex selection, and 9 percent of PGD is for this purpose. (Twist, twist, twist. Yes, sex selection in order to not transfer embryos of a certain sex if that sex is going to be carrying the genetic illness)

· Twenty-four percent of clinics offer PGD to get a match for a sibling in need of a transplant, about 1 percent of all PGD. (Offer it–it’s not necessarily utilized. But they offer it. Twisty twister twisterstein).

· Twenty-one percent of PGD clinics were “aware of” errors having been made — including children born with the problem that was supposed to have been screened out. (Because, as stated before, it’s medicine. And medicine is art. And sometimes treatments fail. And sometimes tests fail. And it’s a matter of not being able to control all circumstances because you’re not operating in a vacuum. And is it an error if it doesn’t work? I don’t know. If I had cancer and the treatment didn’t work for me, I wouldn’t call it an error on the medication’s part. Or my doctor’s part. I would call it the best try. Because medicine is not like other branches of science with highly replicable results).

— Rick Weiss

Oh…Rick. Ricky. Your article made me so angry this morning. What was its point? To scare the public about the far-reaching possibilities of PGD? To help the public understand the devestating process many couples are going through in order to achieve pregnancy? Where are the articles talking about how scary it is that toxic medications exist that could essentially poison a body? Because when new chemotherapy drugs come onto the market, it’s cause for celebration and hope. But when a new fertility technology or mental health drug comes onto the market, it’s cause for many articles warning readers about how dangers or unethical nature of these new advances.

Am I pro-PGD? Of course. Is it perfect? No. But show me something in medicine that’s perfect, 100% of the time. This is what I can show you–a couple who has endured countless pregnancy losses who is now pregnant due to PGD. And…well…like I borrow from Martha Stewart, it’s a good thing.

I was in between giving the twins a bath tonight when I looked up (how did I not notice this until twenty minutes into bath time–I have no idea) and saw a cricket on the ceiling. And you’re going to say that I’m exaggerating, but this thing was larger than a human child. With feelers slithering in every direction. I was going to die. DIE.

And I’ve been trying hard not to pass along my dire fear of crickets to my children. I mean, truthfully, I’ve been trying to raise them to BE my cricket killers. They are of no help to me if they are as paralyzed by fear as I am. Holy crap. And did I mention that this cricket was the size of a small automobile? Clinging to my ceiling.

I have to suck it up and pretend to be brave in front of them, so I run downstairs for a chair and fly swatter, chirping along as if I’m just skipping off to refill a martini glass at an open bar (chirp? Why did I write chirp? It’s as if I have communed with the crickets). And I try to smack it several times, each time smiling down at the kids and saying things like, “I’m just being silly, aren’t I? Just smacking the wall like a lunatic. Ha ha ha. Nothing to see here. Just me being silly.” And whatever you do, don’t come in this bathroom. There is a cricket, the size of two monster trucks that has wedged itself into the corner. And I don’t want you to see what I’m hitting and ask about corporal punishment or any other uncomfortable subject.

Since I don’t want to spray chemicals near the kids, I decide that the sustainable living solution to cricket removal would be to spray water. Oh…and then beat the crap out of it when it moved into a better space (and while I’m fairly certain that cricket murder is not part of the general sustainable living ahimsa motto, I was not going to be able to live in a house with a cricket. A cricket the size of four football fields.

I spray it and instead of crawling a few inches to the left or right, it jumps. At me. In slow motion. And I dive off the chair into the bathtub. The full bathtub. Sending a tidal wave of water onto the bathroom floor. And screaming the entire way down. My cargo pants have absorbed water up to the thighs. I am wearing a pair of heavy, grey socks. I am still batting at the air with my fly swatter, trying to locate it. My daughter steps into the bathroom and examines the situation. “Mommy in the bathtub. With clothes on.”

At this point, I must explain somewhat that I’m searching for my friend, a cricket. Could you help me find my friend? And I feel like the bad guys in Pete’s Dragon who try to coax the little boy out of the swamp by promising him cake and ice cream. Oh, cricket, come out, come out. I’ll give you…whatever crickets love. I stood in the water for about ten minutes, trying to prod the bath towels on the floor with the tip of my fly swatter, absolutely certain that it was going to jump out at me.

But it was nowhere to be seen. And I finally needed to step out of the tub, peel off my socks and pants, and bring them into my bathroom to throw into the bathtub until I could deal with them later. My kids followed, chirping (that word!) on about how mommy was in the bathtub. And no clothes in the bathtub. And mommy’s socks are wet. And this is all fine and good, but how about finding that goddamn cricket for me? What good are you? What good are you? There is a cricket, about the size of Pluto, somewhere in this house. IN THIS HOUSE! IN MY HAIR! THERE IS A CRICKET IN MY HAIR!

And I know this because it jumped out of my hair and landed on the door. My thick, dark, curly, cricket-hiding hair. And I screamed. And screamed. And the kids sobbed because I was screaming. And like a lunatic, I raced over to the other bathroom, grabbed my fly swatter and barreled back through my bedroom screaming, “get out of my way!” before I smacked it with all my might against the door.

And that’s how I killed my first cricket.

And as we all stood motionless after the toilet flushed the cricket away, breathing heavily while I still batted at my hair, my son signed and said at the same time, “all done. Please. All done.”

Yes, all done. I am done. I am fried. Go to bed so I can go downstairs and have a stoli and soda. No, on second thought, if it’s okay with you, I’m just going to chill in your room for the next half hour trying to calm down. You’ll protect me, right? Now that you know what to do? Please let me pass along great cricket hunting skills instead of my cricket fears. You really weren’t supposed to witness that.

I love my body. I really do. Except. You know. My stomach. It’s really big. And my thighs. They’re really wide. And my ass. It’s strangely shaped. But I love my body. Except. You know. I’m short.

Okay, class, what is wrong with all of these comments? Anyone? Anyone? I’m talking shit about my body…well, yes, that’s true. But the reason why I’m talking shit about my body is actually the larger issue. Because every statement above is a comparative term. Big–how can you know what is big unless you know what is small? Wide–how can you know what is wide unless you know what is narrow? Strangely shaped? Who is to say what is normal vs. strange? And where is the cut-off that makes someone tall vs. someone short?

If this were a commercial, I would be half-spitting/half-crying while I confronted a gaggle of supermodels–I learned it from watching you!

Which isn’t entirely true. The supermodel may be the face of the campaign, but the general media created the campaign. And it does a lot of damage because it is human nature to absorb and incorporate what we see or hear into our own vision of the world. Stick a child in a violent home and they will absorb violence. Tell a girl she is beautiful and she will believe it until the day that she starts absorbing these societal ideals of beauty (studies usually put the age as six). Run several news stories sensationalizing infertility and you wonder why the general public thinks we’re a bunch a raving lunatics.

This is the only way I can compare it. My rational me knows that I’m falling into the media’s trap when I judge my body. My rational me knows that I shouldn’t care if my stomach isn’t flat because flat does not mean perfect. Flat simply means flat. And some stomachs are flat and others are nicely rounded. And it means nothing. And the ideals of beauty are defined by the culture–not the general world population. Therefore, my round stomach is beautiful elsewhere. And the rational me knows this. But. I can’t help but feel like crap about my body, feel self-conscious about my body, drap my arm awkwardly across my stomach to hide the bump. Because it’s so ingrained. You’re bombarded with information to make you feel ashamed about your unique body. So you over-ride your rational side and feel self-conscious.

Which is the same thing that happens to people who love us. They hear about infertility and they see us struggling and they see the devastation. But they get a message from the media that we’re bleeding lunatics and baby-crazy. They take the concept of “medical” out of this medical condition and make it something controllable. A personality quirk. And that’s where I think many of the rude statements come from. The “just relax” and the “take a vacation” and the “have more sex” and the “you can always adopt.” Because the non-infertile’s rational side can see that you’re grieving and anxious and frustrated and (in some cases) in physical pain. But the non-infertile’s media-enriched side is remembering this image of “infertile as crazy.”

Hence these two media stories this week:

If you haven’t yet seen this, click here to watch a video on MSN News about infertilty and the under-30 crowd (thank you, Carolyn and my dad for sending it along). The first problem is that whoever wrote this can’t seem to stick to their own angle. They want to reveal those petulant, pouty twenty-somethings who are jumping into IVF just because they can’t wait to have a baby. Oh…and we hope you miss this fact and we’re sticking it at the end of the broadcast…but this woman actually does have a problem. That needs attention. If she’s not ovulating, how does the reporter think she is going to have a child without help?

I am all for not jumping into hysterics (what am I talking about? I’m all for everyone-who-isn’t-me not jumping into hysterics) and giving it a bit of time–if all seems fine. But why would you wait something out if you know there is a problem? Just to see? If it clears up on its own? And while I would believe it if they said that there are frantic twenty-somethings who are demanding Clomid and getting it (because I know this problem exists), I highly doubt that swarms of twenty-somethings are enduring IVF for no reason. And that they can find REs to perform IVF (and seriously, as Carolyn says, if this is true, why isn’t the RE accountable for not turning down this patient?).

Which is to say that it is possible to be under 30 and have trouble conceiving–a fact that this broadcast wishes to sweep under the rug. And these shows make women feel guilty or second-guess themselves. Why should they have respect for their own bodies if the media is essentially mocking them? Because there are women with actual problems (that they know are problems) who are going to watch that program and not get the help they need because they think they need to stick to the guideline of one-year-of-trying. And the people who are supposed to be there supporting them now have an image of an infertile person as crazy. As baby obsessed. As impatient.

And (AGAIN) I am all for the one-year rule if you have no known issues. But what do you do when you notice things are wrong by month four? Just ignore it for the next eight months? And some of this just smacks of sexism to me. Hysterical women with their floating uteruses (what do you think is the etymology of the word “hysterical”?). Call me a bleeding heart Gloria Steinem, but if men ask for a semen analysis before a year, are they labeled as hysterical and baby-crazy? Or just medically savvy? Or just being a self-advocate?

The other story is the one about the abducted baby who was returned to her mother today. Shannon Beck, grieving woman who lost her child late in her pregnancy, abducted a week-old child and tried to pass it off as her own. And my heart goes out to that mother–it truly does. I think we can all recognizing that holding another woman at knifepoint and taking her child is wrong. But it’s the way Shannon Beck is portrayed in the media that is damaging. Each article refers to the police profile they created while searching for the culprit (and how often do you read about the police profile in a news story AFTER they have captured the perpetrator? Truly–think about this fact for a moment. I’m not saying while they’re still searching for the perpetrator and enlisting the help of the general public. This report came out AFTER Shannon Beck was arrested).

“The abductor had been profiled as someone whose child had died recently, or as someone who could not have children, but had told people she was pregnant and needed to steal a child so her lie would not be found out” (The Washington Post, September 20, 2006).

Again, infertile woman as crazy. As a liar. As someone desperate. And if the perpetrator had turned out to be a serial killer who was a mother of three–would we have ever known the profile the police had created? Probably not. But because they were correct, they needed to let us know that they were correct in their assessment. And because it takes any sympathy away from Shannon Beck. She steals. She lies. Therefore, the public can conclude that she deserves to be punished for her crime.

And I’m not saying that she didn’t commit a crime. There should be consequences for her crime. But where are the nets in society that catch a woman who is grieving this deeply? And why do we have to throw more judgement at her? Why can’t she be tried off the pages of the newspaper. In a court. Without the judgemental language creating an image of infertile woman as insane. As baby-obsessed. As fucking desperate.

When I enter my anxiety zone, my husband gives me a limit on my daily what ifs. But just because he allots how many hypothetical situations he’s willing to address doesn’t mean that I stop thinking about them. You may lead the conversation, but you’ll never lead my mind! This is the point in the comic strip when the voice bubble states high-pitched cackling indicating that (1) the speaker is the winner or (2) the speaker is incredibly fucked in the head.

Let’s guess which one I am.

This is what is on my mind today: the endless abyss of what ifs you can fall into during treatments. It began when I read Serenity’s post about what ifs yesterday. She’s in a much better space today after some yoga and visualization (Serenity–your boy sounds beautiful. Hold onto that image). Then, I was reading Falker’s book and she had a long argument about day-3 or day-5 transfers that didn’t (1) come down on either side as preferable but (2) introduced a whole new world of what ifs.

What if you transfer on day-3 and end up using too many embryos and need to do selective reduction (because, if I am going through IVF and paying $10,000 minimum, I am not going to transfer one embryo. Now, if the insurance company wants to provide full coverage for IVF, I would be quite happy to have my embryo transfer capped. But as long as I have limited chances due to finances, we are giving each one the best shot possible). What if you try to wait until the embryos go to blast and end up losing all of them (and by the way–don’t think that Falker didn’t point out how cultures are still behind uteruses in terms of quality. Oh, and another by the way, you can use either uteruses or uteri–I looked it up because I’m literally that anal)? What if what if what if.

Some (like, perhaps, my husband who has to live with me) would tell me to stop reading. But not having information doesn’t stop the what ifs. The what ifs only stop when everything falls into place and all of your fears are not realized. What ifs without reading are perhaps even scarier what ifs because you come to a realization that you don’t even know the right questions to ask.

And I’m not saying that what ifs control my whole day. There are even full days where no what ifs exist. Those are usually the ones where there are no decisions to be made. But when you feel like you’re walking through a minefield, you pay attention to every step. Because you don’t want to have regrets. You don’t want to look back and wish you had taken a different route. And there are days where I can do my Domar exercises and imagine the ocean waves coming onto the beach. But there are also days where I start thinking about how every decision affects a possible outcome. And…frankly…it makes me long for a lack of choices.

But then I think if I had all choices taken away, I would go equally crazy.

And then there is what if’s equally frustrating cousin, could it be. Could it be is what happens during the entire two week wait (could that twinge be a sign? Could that blood be implantion bleeding? Could I be pregnant?), but she is currently rearing her ugly head as I try to sort out where I stand in order to make the best choice. Could I have a clotting disorder? Could I have decent FSH levels (okay, not bloody likely, but…still…when you haven’t had a day 3 drawn for a while, you start hoping that things have somehow changed. For the better. Even though I know these things go up instead of down)? Could we pull the money and resources together for adoption? Could could could.

Maybe it’s the weather. Maybe it’s just summer closing and the transition of fall (which is actually my favourite season). But sometimes I wake up in the what ifs. And then I spend the day with the could it bes. And then I get into bed at night and think about the what ifs. I need to stop saying that I’m going to try yoga and actually get a video and start trying yoga. My Rosh Hashanah resolution (that’s New Year’s for all my non-Jewish friends…)?

This list is just getting started! I’ve also create a book icon and link to the list on my side bar for when it starts slipping down into the valley of lost posts…

Keep adding books into the comments section below. I’ll update this post frequently, moving the books from the comments section into the correct category. Please post other comments as well–books you think should be taken off the list or books that need a second cheerleader shouting out good things.

Last thought–like the blogroll, most of these books fit into more than one category. Therefore, I placed them where they seemed to fit best.

General Infertility

• Resolving Infertity by Diane Aronson and the Staff of Resolve (the “Bible” of infertility books, this covers everything from the various hormones utilized in reproduction, tests and procedures, and lastly, your emotions).
• The Infertility Survival Handbook by Elizabeth Swire Falker (a great companion to Resolving Infertility. It gives you an insider’s view of tests and procedures while touching upon other paths to parenthood).
• What to Expect When You Are Experiencing Infertility by Debby Peoples (written in a Q & A format that addresses questions both medical and emotional in nature).
• How to Get Pregnant by Sherman Silber (A fact-based book, with a good explanation of the basics of human reproduction, what can go wrong, which treatments are currently in vogue, and the author’s expert opinion on these treatments).
• Without Child: Experiencing and Resolving Infertility by Ellen Sarasohn Glazer and Susan Lewis Cooper (though some of the information is dated, it does have many first-hand accounts by men–something lacking in other infertility books).
• Everything Conceivable by Liza Mundy (a behind the scenes look at reproductive technology and where science is heading).

Adoption

• *Adopting After Infertility by Patricia Irwin Johnston (the stuff other adoption books forget to say: instead of focusing on the how-to of adoption, this book covers the secret questions you ask yourself along the journey and helps you understand that you’re not alone as you make your decisions). *This book went out of print in 2007. The new version is…
• Adopting: Sound Choices, Strong Families by Patricia Irwin Johnston (From the Perspectives Press website: “If you’ve been struggling with infertility issues, are a single person or a partner in a same-sex family, chances are adoption has come up in your thinking about a means of building your family. Perhaps you’ve thought a little, perhaps a lot. Ultimately, the key question that you need to answer is both simple and complex: Is the adoption option right for you and your family?”)

Third-Party Reproduction

• Helping the Stork: The Choices and Challenges of Donor Insemination by Carol Frost Vercollone, Heidi Moss, and Robert Moss (there aren’t very many books out there for people who use donor sperm, but this one was very good. It is primarily directed at couples with male factor infertility, but it also addresses single women and lesbian couples).
• Mommies, Daddies, Donors, Surrogates: Answering Tough Questions and Building Strong Families by Diane Ehrensaft (a book covering the emotional journey of utilizing third party reproductive techniques. An excellent read for any family debating this route as the author provides important questions to consider before embarking on your journey).

Living Child-Free

• Sweet Grapes: How to Stop Being Infertile and Start Living Again by Jean W. Carter and Michael Carter (a wonderful book for helping people keep infertility from taking over their entire emotional life as well as help you off the roller coaster when you realize enough is enough).

Pregnancy Loss

• Help, Comfort, and Hope after Losing Your Baby in Pregnancy or the First Year by Hannah Lothrop (the author’s own experience with miscarriage puts her in a good space to help others through the grieving process).
• A Silent Sorrow: Pregnancy Loss by Ingrid Kohn and Perry-Lynn Moffitt (a wonderful guide to getting the support you need after a pregnancy loss).
• Empty Cradle, Broken Heart by Deborah L. Davis (again, personal experiences and great advice about miscarriage help one make their way through the grieving process. Also contains a chapter on pregnancy after a loss).
• Empty Arms by Sherokee Ilse (one of the first books written for parents to help them through a pregnancy loss).
• When a Baby Dies, the Experience of Late Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Neonatal Death by Nancy Kohner and Alix Henley (the authors use personal experiences to explain the grief that comes from losing a child and to help readers through that grief).
• Miscarriage After Infertility: A Woman’s Guide to Coping by Margaret Comerford Freda and Carrie F. Semelsberger (a book that specifically covers losses that occur during infertility).
• Coming to Term: Uncovering the Truth About Miscarriage by Jon Cohen (written by a famous science writer, this book explains why and how miscarriage happens).
• Preventing Miscarriage by Jonathan Scher (I’m not finished yet with this one, and I don’t love the happy smoke blown in the introduction, but this book offers a lot of helpful advice in knowing the right questions to ask your doctor after a loss and treatment options. As well as advice on failed IVF cycles).
• When a Baby Dies: A Handbook for Healing and Helping by Rana K. Limbo (this one is published by Resolve Through Sharing/RTS which provides the “gold standard” in bereavement training).
• Mrs. Duck and The Woman by Kara L.C. Jones (a conversation about bereavement after the loss of a child).

Meditation/Non-Western Medicine/Emotions

• Conquering Infertility by Alice Domar (probably the best book on the market for managing the emotions that accompany infertility from the founder of the Mind/Body Program for Infertility).
• The Infertility Cure by Randine Lewis (Chinese medicine techniques and treatments for infertility by an acupuncturist and herbalist).

Personal Accounts

• Down Came the Rain by Brooke Shields (wonderful narrative chronicling her move from pregnancy loss and infertili
  ty to motherhood. It was a bumpy road, with postpartum depression. A must read for anyone who is having difficulties parenting after infertility).
• Baby B by Michael Ryan (how can you not like a book that begins: “I have been telling my friends that what I am injecting into my wife, Doreen, this week is crushed, powdered Chinese hamster ovaries”? Infertility from the male point-of-views with multiples to boot!).
• Inconceivable: A Woman’s Triumph over Despair and Statistics by Julia Indichova (the book you need to read if you’re feeling alone in your journey or if you’ve ever been told by a doctor that you’ll never carry your own child. A Secret Hope Story if there ever was one).

Books For Children About Adoption/Treatments/Infertility (Picture Books or Older)

• You’re Not My Real Mother by Molly Friedrich (despite the in-your-face title, this is a picture book where an adoptive mother explains to her daughter why she is her “real mother.” While they may not look alike, they share all the same bonds as any other mother and daughter).
• We Were Gonna Have a Baby, But We Had an Angel Instead by Pat Schwiebert (a picture book for children that explains pregnancy loss. A must-have if you’re going through secondary infertility).
• I Love You Like Crazy Cakes by Rose Lewis (a picture book–also a board book–that describes the author’s journey to China to adopt her daughter)
• The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Patterson (a middle-grade fiction book about a girl in the foster care system who longs for her biological mother, but ends up learning the true meaning of family)
• Tell Me Again About The Night I Was Born by Jamie Lee Curtis (a child asks to hear again the story of how she was born and came to her family)
• A Mother for Choco by Keiko Kasza (a little bird is adopted by a bear and learns that babies do not always look like their mommies).
• And Tango Makes Three by Peter Parnell and Justin Richardson (the true story of a penguin in the Central Park Zoo who has two daddies)
• Mommy, Was Your Tummy Big by Carolina Nadel (an elephant discovers his/her conception story. There are two versions–a donor egg and a donor insemination version)

Videos and Audio Recordings

• Technostorks by Andrei Kirilenko (a film documenting the IVF attempts of three individuals. A great film if you want a heads up before your own IVF attempt or to be shown to someone outside the experience so they better understand infertility).

Fiction with Infertility Themes

• Inconceivable by Ben Elton (a couple is thrown into turmoil when they discover that they can’t conceive. This book touches upon many themes–love, relationships, and careers).

Spiritual/Religious

• When Empty Arms Become a Heavy Burden by Sandra Glahn and William Cutrer (this is written from a Christian perspective and discusses the emotional, financial, physical and spiritual components of infertility).
• Moments for Couples Who Long for Children by Ginger Garrett (as the title implies, this is written to be a daily reading for couples who are battling infertility. It focuses more on the emotional and spiritual areas than health items. I (GLouise) liked many of the questions that Ginger posed such as “Is G-d trying to punish me?” or “Will I ever be happy again?”).