Everybody's Pregnant....But Me

I can’t write lately. Everything hurts too much. Because well everybody’s pregnant…..

The lady in front of me at the grocery store. The lady behind me at the grocery store. The receptionist and everyone else at my ob’s office. AND my RE’s office. I started therapy yesterday. AND guess whose pregnant? Yep, both receptionists!  **sigh** And in case you are wondering, YES I drank from the water fountain before I left the building.

Anywho….where was I? Oh yeah, every celebrity on the planet including a Kardashian (just what this world needs, another one of THOSE). And the lady to the front, back, left and right of me in church. Even God is taunting me now.  For the record, I know that isn’t true but it sure feels that way sometimes. : (

I have too much anger to blog. It wouldn’t be ME. Just the shell of me that exists right now. I have a week before my lap and then 3 months of not being able to try.   Too bad humans don’t hibernate – this would be the perfect time for that. And probably about all I will be capable of.

So I’ll leave you to ponder this quote I stole from another blog today.

“It’s hard to wait around for something you know might never happen but It’s  even harder to give up when you know it’s everything you want.”  ~Author unknown

Yep, that about sums it up.

4 Books

1) Anything by Jodi Picoult – esp.  Handle with Care. Just finished reading it. Anyone who has ever experience infertility will be impacted. Trust me.

2) Anything by Diane Chamberlain. Esp. if you are a NC native. Many of her settings are local which makes it easy to relate and get immersed in the lives of the characters = good book, right? Ironically one of my favorites is about an abandoned baby. GO FIGURE!

3) THE HELP, by Kathryn Stockett. Still need to see this movie.  Hope it’s as wonderful as the book. One of the semi-main characters has something like 5 brutal miscarriages. Tore me up. Seriously.

4) The Shack by William P. Young. This is sold as a Christian novel but if you can’t relate, you aren’t human. Storyline revolves around a child abduction. IMPOSSIBLE.TO.COMPREHEND. THAT. KIND.OF.PAIN.

I could go on and on here.  I am an avid reader. Always have been.   And I’ve found lately that nothing takes my mind off ‘you know what’ like a good read.

Happy Friday. Well as happy as it can be since AF is here. ugh

5 Foods

Ok. I have nothing to write that isn’t vengeful, spiteful, angry and deceitful so what better time to head back into the ‘ole challenge - how obvious is it that AF arrived today?. These are foods you are told to avoid when pregnant. I hope I get the chance to do just that one day.

1) sushi – as hard as this will be – I’m guessing it’s the last thing I pregnant lady wants to eat or even smell for that matter?!?!

2) lunch meat – includes hotdogs. Good thing the hubs doesn’t have to carry the baby – he would not make it without hotdogs. Serious.

3) soft cheeses – I will miss my Brie. That’s for sure. The last time I had baked brie I told the waiter I was thinking of marrying it. Did I mention I had wine with dinner? J

4) seafood – thank goodness this is mostly limited to large fish such as shark, sword fish, and king mackerel because let’s face it, those aren’t typically a part of my daily diet. Shrimp on the other hand – 9 months without shrimp and I could lose my mind. Small doses is okay?  Whew!  Crisis averted.

5) raw eggs – this would not normally be an issue except they are in tiramisu, raw cookie dough, eggnog, homemade ice cream, and Caesar dressing…GASP!

Happy Anniversary!

This weekend is the anniversary of several things. One year of a miracle we are still married wedded bliss. One year, give or take, of trying to conceive.  We are headed to a beautiful 5-star resort in the mountains and it’s the first thing I have looked forward to in a long, long time. I think we both need a break – from work, from this town, from life, from everything. Of course, it’s hard not to wonder about the pending test results I was hoping would be back before our trip. Not happening. Middle of next week more than likely. UGH.

Last week was my first visit with an RE. Call me crazy but I actually wanted to hug the woman before I left. The news wasn’t great, per say - she thinks I have a defunct ovary. Still waiting on that verdict from the AMH test – but the first sentence out of her mouth was “you are young in the world of fertility.” Really? Huh? I was floored. That was certainly news to me. My ovary might not have gotten the memo of course.  An ultrasound revealed my leftie is perhaps ‘older’ than the rest of me. My righty revealed only one egg although I am on my 2^nd round of femara, 5^th round of ovulation boosters altogether. Not cool. Esp. since I have endured those horrible medications for that long, only to find out, yeah, they don’t work. And based on the pain a few days later, I’m pretty sure my defunct ovary was the one trying to drop an egg. Really body? Why are you punishing me?

What WAS cool though is I got to see the egg, up close and personal; however, when she pressed on it with the ultrasound wand – OUCH….MOTHER----. I, with my usual mask pain and misery with laugher, told her not to crack the one good egg I had. She died.  If nothing else, it lightened the mood. Let’s face it – things are tense when a perfect stranger is shoving a foot long wand up your yahoo. Am I right?

I left her office with something I haven’t had in a while – HOPE. I’m not sure my feet ever touched the parking lot. Hell, I was almost elated.   She wasn’t the least bit concerned about the ovary snafu being an end-all issue. And if nothing else, we now have a plan. First test results – hopefully they will come back in this century. Next – lap for my endometriosis. Let me tell ya, NOT looking forward to that. The recovery is a bear and the timing couldn’t be worse – it’s my busiest time at work and of course the holidays aren’t a good time to be swollen, in pain and uncomfortable. I guess at least I know what to expect this time around.  Maybe this time they won’t try to kill me with morphine (as if a lap isn’t fun enough, my first one led to the discovery of my morphine allergy – fun times!).  She gave me three different scenarios – 1) she finds nothing, 2) she finds a little something and gets rid of it, 3) it’s so bad there is no point in doing anything so she does nothing. Ok. I can live with that. Well 1 and 2 maybe. AND THEN: 3 months of BC pills and injectables. AND THEN…..IUI(s).

I was hoping to skip this step since I don’t think the success rate is all that great, but after finding out they aren’t as costly as I originally assumed they were, hell why not. We’ve tried everything else thus far. Might as well give that a shot too. I’m none too thrilled about the BC pills – I know there is a scientific reason behind doing it this way but it also feels like 10 giant steps backwards.  I just spent a year getting those out of my system. I don’t want to go back there. Even worse, that’s 3 months of not trying really. 3 months further away from our goal. After a year, 3 months should feel like nothing, but to me, it sounds like forever.

In the meantime, I’m heading to a luxury resort amongst breath taking mountain views where I plan to sip champagne wine, relax, enjoy my husband and our time together and pretend that LIFE IS GOOD.

A Break From The Challenge

I haven’t blogged in a while. There is a reason for that. I needed a break from all things baby. Every now and then I get a glimpse of just how crazy I’ve become much IF has taken over my life and I have to take a step back and regroup.  It takes quite a toll on everything around you – relationships, friendships, work, sleep and everything in between.

Don’t get me wrong – this is no easy task. Babies are everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE.  And what should be cute and awwwww inspiring is currently like a knife to the heart and I hate that about myself. I hate that the sight of a baby makes me sick with envy.  I hate that I wish every day that no one close to me gets pregnant.  I hate that every time I look at my husband I wonder if he regrets marrying me. I hate the thought of living a childless life.

With that being said, a break does the mind and body good. I’ve been feeling amazing these last few weeks. Better than I have in a very long time.  Hell I think I even managed a laugh yesterday. Not counting CD or DPO’s. Not peeing on a stick of any kind. Allowing myself some half caff coffee (cause I’m wild and crazy like that sometimes).  I even ditched the prenatals because frankly they make me want to puke. I’ve been working out. Took a few classes at the gym. Decorated for the house for fall. Haven’t yelled at the hubs in weeks.  You know, normal people stuff.  Until tomorrow anyway….

Tomorrow we have our first official appointment with an RE.  I’m tired of dicking around with methods that don’t work. I’m tired of obsessing and the constant disappointment.   It’s time to get down and dirty people.  At first all I could think about was her first words being “you haven’t tried long enough.” “Even healthy couples take up to a year.” Blah blah blah.  And then I received this email from Attain, the organization we found the RE through.

Did you know that 50% of fertility patients waited over a year before seeing a fertility specialist? And that's too long. No matter where you are along your path to parenthood - whether you've been trying for some time without success or you know you need a treatment like IVF - the sooner you see a specialist the better.

Then I wanted to kick myself for waiting this long. I mean I’m 36 with endometriosis. HELLO? Which led to my next head banging, self-doubting tirade– Did I wait too long? Did we miss our opportunity? Why did I listen to all those people telling me to wait, relax and stop stressing - WTF do they know?????

I have no idea what to expect tomorrow. I’m hoping to finally be able to talk to someone who doesn’t think I’m crazy, jumping the gun or stupid for being worried. That will be a nice change of pace. I’m looking forward to getting this show on the road. I’m excited about getting one step closer to being a mom, even if it’s a tiny first step. 

6 Places (This was a tough one!)

1.  pumpkin patch. Odd I know but anyone who looks at face.book will tell you that right now there are 105,267,000 pictures posted of people with their kids at pumpkin patches. I would give anything to be one of those people.

2.  L.A. So I can thump Rachel Zoe in the forehead. Who let this woman breed for God’s sake?  One of her is a plenty!! (And yet I can’t stop watching her show!!!!!!  Go figure) A baby is neither a vampire nor an alien you crazy b*tch!!!!  “Couldn’t be worse timing” you say? Yeah, well F you!

3.  the mountain cabin where we spent our honeymoon – by far the happiest week of my entire life.

4.  Hollywood. Because apparently they are giving out babies like candy there.  Name one celebrity who ISN’T pregnant or just had a baby? Go head. Try.

5. a house with no walls or doors so my husband and I can’t stay mad and avoid each other

6. a magical place where infertility doesn’t hurt so much

7 Wants

1.  to feel confident in my attempt(s) to get pregnant instead of feeling like it’s a huge waste of time and money because there must be something wrong

2.  to gain control of my emotions

3.  to feel worthy of my husband’s love even though I might not be able to give him a child

4.  to better understand my husband’s lack of emotions and see them as the normal male reaction rather than a lack of concern (even if it still makes me want to  claw his eyes out pull my hair out)

5. to stop obsessing during the TWW

6. to live a life outside of infertility

7. and the most obvious, to give birth to a healthy baby(s) (I often forget to express the healthy part but then remember that I better be careful what I wish for)

8 Fears

1.       My marriage will not survive infertility.

2.       Finances, or lack thereof, will keep us from having a family.

3.       I will never know what it feels like to be pregnant or give birth – both of which I consider a gift from God.

4.       The loneliness of infertility will result in a lonely pregnancy because I will have pushed everyone away and no one will be around to be excited or care.

5.       I will never know the joy of raising a child or having grandchildren and all the milestones that go along with it.

6.       My anger, resentment and bitterness will never allow me to enjoy being an aunt.

7.       My husband will never have the family he wants and deserves. Not with me anyway.

8.       As much as I hate to admit it, my SIL will get pregnant before me and we won’t have the first born grandchild. Selfish I know but it always seems like the first born is the most revered.

Don't mind me while I sit here and wait for my busride to hell **sigh**

9 Loves

1.       Finding out my husband has been carrying a lucky buckeye in his pocket for weeks – for us.

2.       Baby clothes. I. Cannot. Wait. to buy some!!!!!

3.       Getting good test results.

4.       An amazing RE who is kind, gentle and makes you feel like it’s his/her life’s work to get you that baby you want so badly.

5.       A husband who asks three times on our first date if I want kids.

6.       Baby gadgets. There are soooo many. I mean how awesome is this:

Lil' Luxuries Whirlpool, Bubbling Spa & Shower

7.       The advancement of medicine AND technology so that one day I too might be a mom!

8.         Infertility blogs. : )

9.       Having THIS blog to vent, rant and get it all off my chest. AND the folks who read and comment and make me feel less crazy!

10 Secrets

A few fellow bloggers are taking this challenge so I thought I would follow suit, except with a twist of infertility mixed in.

1.    I sort of always knew that getting pregnant would be difficult for me. Not just because of the endometriosis or the myriad of other health issues or the waiting until I’m 36 to start (not by choice people, not by choice), but because of a gut feeling I’ve always had. And who am I kidding, NOTHING I’ve ever wanted has been easy.

2.   Sometimes I wonder if my husband wishes he had not married me because there is a chance we cannot have biological children.

3.   Infertility hurts, confuses and frustrates but most of all, I am just REALLY F’N PISSED about it.

4.   I get really emotional when driving behind cars with those little stick figure family decals on them.  It hurts that those people get children and we don’t. L

5.   I absolutely dread the day one of my close friends or my sister tells me they are pregnant. As much as I want to be happy for them, just thinking about it makes me seethe because I know I will have to act happy. Frankly, I think I deserve to get pregnant first.

6.   Infertility is the loneliest existence to me. I feel like I have absolutely no one to confide it. My friends are sick of hearing it and most of the time don’t understand and unknowingly say insensitive things.   My mother and I do not speak and when we did she made the comment that each time she wanted to be pregnant, she just was. My husband never seems to lose an ounce of sleep over it. I know men react differently to these kinds of things, but he shows zero emotion whatsoever and expects the same from me. Mind numbing, I swear. So that leaves, well NO ONE.

7.   It bothers me that so many celebrities are pregnant. I mean the pregnant people have completely taken over my People magazine and other guilty celebrity pleasures. It’s like they are taunting me.

8.   I hate hate hate facebook pregnancy announcements and updates but secretly cannot wait until the day I can post my own.

9.   I feel very selfish and stupid when I read about people who have been trying for years and years to have a baby and I can’t handle 10 months with my sanity intact.  I also start to have panic attacks when I think what IF we have to about have to battle if for years and years. How will I survive that?

10.  I feel like infertility is some sort of punishment for past mistakes. I wish I didn’t, but I do.

Sick & Tired

I wish I could announce it was because I’m pregnant. But in fact, it’s because I’m not. I was so sure this time. SO SURE.  Symptoms out the wazoo. Symptoms I have never had before. And I tried so hard NOT to obsess, if that’s even possible. But it’s kinda hard to imagine that it tastes like I have been sucking on stainless steel lollipops.  I’ve had a constant headache and most of the week, been cramping in a way that I never have before – sharp knife like pains instead of a constant dull throb.

And then the ride ends. The roller coaster came to a screeching halt this morning when I started spotting.  Earlier than expected - or not expected in this case. All I could do was cry sob in the shower. All I kept saying was “it’s just not fair”.  I didn’t think I could go thru this disappointment yet again. I was so sure God would not let me.  

I couldn’t face disappointing my husband yet again so I did the next cruelest thing I could think of – left a sticky note.  I know this is awful because I did it partly because I wanted someone else to feel as bad as I do all day. But partly because I swear to god I could not take hearing “oh well, we’ll try again next month”.  Bodily harm would have ensued, no lie.  He’s golfing today and my guess is no tears will be shed on the golf course. Which makes me seeth because I have to struggle thru a work day, avoiding people, trying not to cry (too late), be cordial and smile, get some actual work done with all this sadness churning in my brain. Again, It’s not fair.

So now it’s official. 10 tries. Two medications. An HSG. One SA. EPO. Preseed. A zillon dollars worth of OPK’s. acupuncture. And what has it gotten us. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. I wish I knew what it was I had done to deserve this……….

Femara vs. Clomid: the lesser of two evils?!

No side effects, huh? Really?  Hmmmm…..interesting but I’m going to have to disagree. STRONGLY.  First, let me give Femara the benefit of the doubt by saying it in no way made me want to strangle anyone the way Clomid did. And for that I am thankful. But in Clomid’s defense, at least it didn’t make me feel like I had been hit by a truck. I guess I simply traded the mental for the physical. At this point, so soon after the suffering, I am really not sure which was worse.

What started out as a sniff neck about a week ago (approx. two days after my last pill), turned into the inability to turn my head completely to the left. At least not without searing pain. Luckily by then, I had an acupuncture appointment and she had already planned to treat my neck and upper back. I almost kissed her. Seriously. She even hooked me up to the electrode machine thingy. SO STRANGE. At first, I thought the constant tapping noise would drive me nuts but an hour later, I woke to find I had been drooling on myself. I’m not sure the treatment did much good as here I am 5 days later, still with a stiff neck.  But at the time, it brought me some much needed relief.

On Saturday I made it about halfway through a workout at the gym before the building starting to spin and I felt like I was walking on the lower deck of the Royal Caribbean.  So much for cardio. I spent the rest of the day on the sofa trying to make that stop spinning as well. The hubs and I fought of course because as usual he seemed non-sympathetic to my suffering . I cried. Puked. Cried some more.  This resulted in a beautiful bouquet of flowers and us both scratching our heads because this medication wasn’t supposed to have side effects, right? Word to the wise, GOOGLE is not your friend when you are in the midst of something like this. In fact, it seemed as though only horror stories were available at that very moment even though just days before I could hardly find a bad word written about this medication.

By Sunday, I could barely bend my ankles. Walking was NOT attractive. And we had plans to go boating with friends. Did I mention they have children, 4 and 2? I knew I would not be able to hide the limping nor the sadness in my eyes that is often always apparent when I’m around children. And I really didn’t feel like explaining it to another person who has children and has no idea what the F they are talking about when they try to give you infertility advice. But these folks are somewhat aware of what we have been going through so at least I could just skim the surface maybe if it came to that. Surprise to me, I handled the day REALLY well. The babies were magnetized to me like most kids usually are. At one point during the day I almost felt like the mother was jealous that I was monopolizing the affection of her children. Screw her. I was cuddling the cutest two year old on the planet all day. NO ONE was taking that away from me.  HA!  Later in the evening, while alone in the kitchen with the mother,  I had to confess why I wasn’t up to the task of water sports. Of course she has a friend who has gone through something similar (doesn’t everyone), twice. The first time resulted in a child with downs. **sigh**   This is not making me feel better people.

So days on end of headaches, mind numbing nausea, spinning rooms, cranky husbands and painful joints and then there was a smiley face. The OPKS actually worked. And right on time, thank goodness. And then…came the cramps. OUCH. I‘m positive I felt the egg’s trip from start to finish. In fact, I am pretty sure knives, not eggs, made their way through my fallopian tubes. 

But it’s over. I think. Aside from a few early morning cramps, I’m back to my ole’ self.  You know the obsessive, pessimistic, neurotic  TTC’er, pining for a baby every second of every day. Let the TWW begin. Oh boy…..

It’s the little things...

... that make you happy when you are TTC. Well it’s one big thing really BUT until that happens, you have to revel in the little moments that make things feel like they are going well. Or at least in the right direction.  I told myself I wouldn’t pee on anymore sticks this time around. Just RELAX and see how things go. But that didn’t last long. ; -) I remembered I needed to see how this new medication affected things – clomid delayed everything and also made poas worthless. I haven’t read that letrozole does this so I wanted to experiment for myself.

Loe and behold, the ovulation predictor had a blue line this morning. An actual line. Not blurry. Not half ass. A real true line. Now one line doesn’t indicate anything is happening  yet and the test confirmed this BUT I was so thrilled that the test was actually working I literally smiled through my shower. We TTC’ers spend many a morning shower bawling our eyeballs out, so this was no small feat. Not to mention, I don’t feel crazy. The insomnia this weekend was mind numbing and the nausea and dizziness are no treat BUT I will take that any day over the crushing depression and constant pity party. I’m sure my husband will agree. Poor guy.

Things have been rough for him since last week when he suggested I take Midol when I was in so much pain I could barely walk upright.  Needless to say, he won’t make that mistake again.  ;-)   I was none too happy as you can imagine and spent the rest of the day berating him for being insensitive to my pain, yada yada yada. But I had to laugh when he later told me that the only thing he knew about Midol was what he had seen on the commercials.  My analogy of it being 'like suggesting someone with a severed limb take Advil' seemed to clear it all up for him. I had a forehead slapping moment though because why would a man know about Midol? I mean the women on the commercials, for those even paying attention, are running on beaches, dancing with their friends at nightclubs and at the worst trying to pry on a pair of too tight jeans, not folded up in the fetal position, whimpering like babies covered in sweat and waiting for their head to explode. NOW that would be a commercial I could relate to.

So....This past weekend, I made a conscious effort not to take my anger and frustration out on him. It was a little easier without clomid controlling my moods of course but I noticed right away the huge difference it made in how he responded to me and how we interacted as a couple. It was nice. I enjoyed being with him even if we were just at the gym or cleaning the bathrooms (his suggestion not mine!).

Today, I  came across a non-pregnancy blog post (yes they do exist and help remind that there is a whole other world out there that is NOT trying to have a baby) in which the writer suggested a book by a minister who " believes love best motivates a woman and respect most powerfully motivates a man. Research reveals that during marital conflict a husband most often reacts when feeling disrespected and a wife reacts when feeling unloved."  Hmmm...they might be on to something here. Lately, I can't help but notice how much better I feel when my husband and I are on the same side of things. Infertility is a b*tch but going through it alone is even worse. I don't want to do that. I want my husband by my side. I need him or else I don't think I can survive this.  I think I'll read this book. Or at least scan it. Couldn't hurt to get some pointers on how better to follow this regime.  I respect my husband more than any other human being on the planet but I'm not sure he knows that. I've never told him and my actions lately probably paint a completely different picture.

I've let wanting a baby take over my every thought, good and bad, and it’s had quite a profound effect on every aspect of my life. It consumes you in ways you never imagine.  I guess that's why it feels so good to smile, even over silly things like a definite blue line or your husband’s point of view, distorted as it may be.

Picture Day

Today is the dreaded first day of school. Why should that bother me you ask? Well it doesn’t directly. I have no kids. I didn’t have to fight buses on the way to work. I didn’t have a child to take pictures of this morning. I didn’t have a lunch to pack. I don’t have anyone to worry about throughout the day. My biggest fear is that I never will.

Facebook was a giant slap in the face again this morning. All those pictures of little ones starting their day with big bows, big backpacks, big smiles on most of their faces – I just couldn’t hold back the tears. It’s so hard to see something you want so bad and worry, face the fact that you may never have it.  I am starting to think I might have to do away with Facebook all together. It brings me nothing but anger, sadness and frustration.  And it’s not just the baby posts anymore.   I am starting to resent every post I read yet I keep going back for more. Gluten for punishment much?

It’s just like the friend I keep confiding in even though she almost always slides a “relax” in there somewhere and I end up wanting to snap her neck claw her eyes out  but have to just bite my tongue (almost in half) instead. **sigh**  So much for venting out loud.  Last night over drinks she told me the story about how a friend of a friend went through the same thing and when they decided to take a break and just do it when they felt like it and not track ovulation, temp, etc, they got pregnant. Now granted they were in their very early 30’s, had no prior health issues and probably plenty of money to pursue other avenues if needed. Well Gee..that’s the same. I can’t believe I am worried and can’t relax and just let it happen.  Yeah F*ck off.

I’m soon heading off to my acupuncture appointment. I don’t know how much good it’s doing for the infertility but it does give me an hour alone in a room to sleep and/or cry, sometimes a little of both. I’m thinking of kicking this habit as well since its basically turned into a bunch of expensive naps. I know I probably haven’t given it ample time to work but I’m just plain tired of waiting for everything to work.   Tired of waiting for my own pictures to post.

I've got a new attitude........

There is one sure fire way to ensure AF shows – take a pregnancy test.  Works every time.  I felt kind of ‘funny’ for the last week and so I decided to make sure I actually wasn’t.  I needed WINE, okay! And as you can imagine, this is the result I got. Or at least that’s how it looked in my mind.

 

Hey at least I can joke about it. Last month at this time I was sobbing at my desk with the door closed praying no one asked what was wrong. So I would say I’ve progressed. I didn’t even cry. Not one single tear. I didn’t really feel anything to be honest. I mean I knew. Deep down, I already knew.

SOOOOO my attitude this week…F*ck it.  What would life be like without kids? Would it be so bad?  My husband’s attitude – “well I guess we’ll just go at it again next month.” Wow the romance astounds me.  Grrrrrr

I’ve made the decision not to take Clomid ever again (as long as I am here on this earth). This medication should come with a flashing red light attached to it – its bad news, plain and simple. My husband should win an award for putting up with me on that stuff.  I find it funny that I request an appointment to discuss this with the person who prescribed it to me yet he is double- booked and too busy to speak with me this week. OH REALLY????? Is that so? Well, good thing his nurse is good people because I had a new prescription within the hour. Have no idea what it is or when I take it.  I don’t care at this point. As long as it’s NOT clomid.  I’m so happy I don’t have to take that medication again I’m almost elated.  Even if my female parts feel like they are trying to claw their way to the outside of my body. And so begins a new cycle folks.......

Bitter....Party of One!

So last night I had a meltdown.  In the gym. Yeah.  Fun times.  I’m sure my husband is doubly mortified on top of already having to walk into that place full of beautiful people with a lard butt for a wife. **sigh** Is it obvious yet I’m having a rough week? It probably was to the entire gym. I did manage to get in a half hour on the tread mill. Crying. Tears running down my face. I’m pretty sure I need to wait a week or so before venturing there again. 

I feel myself breaking in half and there is nothing I can do to stop it. Two days ago all I could think about was how lucky I am in life. I have soooo much to be thankful for. Now I can’t stop focusing on the not so luckiness. What is wrong with me? Why am I like this? Why can’t I be strong and face the day as a cup half full?

Well, because I know I’m not pregnant. I don’t actually have any hard evidence but in the same way they say a woman just knows when she is - even if it’s realistically too soon to tell - I just know that I’m not. I’m so angry. Why isn’t this happening? What are we doing wrong? What if something IS wrong and we are wasting precious time and money? Why can my stupid body not cooperate and give me the one thing I want most in this world? Why did I do to deserve this?  Why do I have to put my body and mind through pure torture only to be disappointed over and over again?

And the clomid. Oh boy. Did I mention this stuff is pure evil? Do I sound like a broken record yet? I’m pretty sure I’m done with this so called' medication'. First, it’s not working.  Clearly.  Second, it’s starting to affect my vision. All of the research I have done on the side effects say to stop taking it because the vision effects can be PERMANENT. REALLY? And all my doctor felt the need to mention was possible hot flashes?!  And I’m sure my husband will agree, it’s making me CrAzY!!!  Crazier than usual. And that is BAD!  Very bad. I hear myself snapping at him. At the Target cashier.  At co-workers. Seething. Fire Breathing. Yet I don’t stop. It just spews out of my mouth and I am powerless. I wish I could wear a sign that says please ignore me, I am on fertility medication!  Hmm… might not be a bad idea.

I wish more than anything I could turn it off, esp. around my husband. I wish he could see how much I am hurting and how hard it is to look at him without thinking that I have failed him as a wife in so many ways. The one thing I should be able to do, I can’t. No matter how hard I try. On the other hand, he makes me crazy by being so positive when I am so negative. I just don’t understand why he doesn’t take it as hard. How can he just go on with everyday life as if nothing is wrong? It makes me angry that him, the world, everyone else isn’t hurting the way I hurt. I’m so lonely I could crack. So then, I’m secretly glad I yell. ; >

We leave the gym in silence.  ON the short ride home, we see four families walking WITH BABY STROLLERS, of course. We eat dinner in silence. I go upstairs to shower then cry myself to sleep.  This is my new routine.  This is how sadness lives.

We are what we repeatedly do...

So this is how yesterday's post began…….

When you are TTC and its not working, one of the few things you’ve got is HOPE. Now I’m not one to go around spewing positive – anyone who knows me well is aware of this. I’ve been working on that. It’s a daily hourly struggle for a pessimist like myself. Infertility makes it tenfold. Trust me. If you already think you are worthless, try not being able to give your husband a child. That will leave you teetering on the edge for sure. And it doesn’t help that I started this journey with “you’re too old”, “you have too many health problems”, “you didn’t take good enough care of your body” playing over and over in my mind like a broken record.

But an amazing thing happens every single month . Every 30 or so days I hang on to every little shred of hope my mind and heart can possibly produce. I even promised I wouldn’t do it to myself this month. I would go on about my everyday life and not analyze every little tug and pull. Not easy because pregnancy has about 1011 symptoms. And out of those 1011, about 1011 can be symptoms of other things too. Hell this morning, I felt nauseas and cramping in my nether region and I smiled to myself in the mirror. SMILED.  Yeah, well on my way to freakdom aren’t I?

Granted I have had numerous symptoms every single month for the past 9 months. Always sure it had finally happened for us. Always hoping, wishing, praying, willing it true. But even after each and every disappointing BFN, I’ve somehow managed to pull myself together and go on to the next. It’s a trait I am not familiar with. I mean I have even found myself rooting on other women on blogs and infertility websites. ME? The eternal Debbie downer. The non-believer in all things good.

It almost makes me see that even though I have yet to gain a baby, I HAVE gained a new sense of strength, one I didn’t know I was capable of. IT hasn’t defeated me (even if some days I can’t get out of bed, stop crying, put one foot in front of the other function like a normal human being). Hell, it may just end up making me one of the strongest people I know. Definitely going to come in handy if when I become a mom.

And then…

I made the huge mistake of logging onto Facebook. When will I ever learn (shaking head)?  A co-worker from years ago whose daughter got married, pregnant, and divorced all in the span of a year just got remarried a few months ago and wouldn’t you know it, her friggin’ profile picture is a positive digital pregnancy test. It took every last ounce of will power I had NOT to go lay in traffic. WHY GOD WHY?

I went out to lunch because well food always makes me feel better and there were 9…count them 9 pregnant women between work and the restaurant. I mean really GOD? What did I do to deserve this? Tell me so I can fix it.

Ahh the life of a TTC'er.  **sigh**

Mindless Banter....

This is the worst kind of wait – the time between AF and ovulation. I hate it. It’s nothingness. One giant void. No hope. No obsessing over every little twinge. Just empty endless waiting. Especially when clomid delays things by several days. That in itself is maddening. SOOO…here are some ramblings, thoughts and updates, in no particular order……

*I just got word that a good friend is not trying but not preventing. Hearing this was like being punched in the gut. My defenses automatically kicked in. I know they will get pregnant before us. How will I survive  that? How will I find it in myself to be happy for them and smile and pretend that my heart and soul are still intact? How in the hell am I going to deal with yet someone else getting pregnant when here I sit. Still not a mom.

*I’ve also decided that I don’t want to talk about babies anymore. Not to any extent. I’ve cut myself off from people. I don’t call friends. I eat lunch alone. It's easier this way.

*This process has made me so bitter.  I can’t even find it in my heart to be happy for someone else. And while I would like to think I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy, there is a part of me who DOES wish it on people, so I won’t have to suffer the news of their good fortune. I hate this about myself. I hate that the news of a pregnancy makes me want to fold myself into a little ball and disappear.

*I almost hurled a $200 ovulation monitor through the bathroom wall this morning. It’s peeing on a stick for Christ’s sake, not rocket science yet I am still getting error messages. Thank you clomid, you stupid %^&%$#*(&^#.

*I finally gave in to three years of my husband begging me to join a gym. I still can’t believe I go to a gym. Crazy. Not that I enjoy these 25 extra pounds of what people keep calling “happy weight”, but honestly I have been afraid to start any kind of major exercising for fear it might somehow hurt my chances of conceiving or if I in fact do conceive, all that jumping around might somehow harm the tadpole. Yeah I know Crazy. But this is how the mind of an infertile works. Every move you make is a big deal. But I decided if I wait, I might never get to do it since the conceiving part doesn’t seem to be happening now or anytime soon. Now don’t tell my hubs but I LOVE IT. Granted I’ve only been twice but it really does give me a sense of accomplishment and if nothing else, it takes my mind off of ‘you know what’, even if only for an hour or so.

*One of my best friends who just recently had a baby (of whom which I am the appointed guardian god forbid anything should happen) is moving to another country TOMORROW. Over 24 hours away from me. Saying goodbye to that baby that I only got to hold for a weekend literally sliced me to the core. I couldn’t kiss him enough. I still smelled him on me two days later. I probably won’t get to see him again until he is 5. My brain cannot even process this yet.

*I’ve decided I need some distractions. I recently discovered the website Pinterest. WARNING – highly addictive – almost as bad as poas addicting. SOOO many good DIY ideas and I feel sorry for my husband and wallet already.  I’ve also been toying with taking a jewelry class. I need an outlet I suppose. Other than punching walls and yelling at people (but that’s fun too. J). 

*Saw this quote recently and it really made me say hmmmm…

What if you woke up today with only the things you thanked God for yesterday?

Didn’t take me long to realize I would have nothing.  Is that perspective for ya or what?  Wonder if I thank God for the ability to ovulate, he can make that happen tomorrow? Hmmmmm……

Round Two...

Clomid. Such an ugly word. Such a hard pill to swallow – pun totally intended. I just started my second round this week. I had to talk myself into it. I had to talk my husband into it. I’m really not sure who suffered more the first time around. Seems funny that my doctor ONLY warned me about some possible hot flashes. I assume waking up in the middle of the night to the feeling of what it might be like to be set on fire is what he was referring to.

What he failed to mention were the REAL side effects. I had to research those myself. And I don’t fault him for this. I mean one quick google search and you fine 1001 ways women aren’t affected by this medication. You also find yourself wanting to sucker punch the ones who write, “Just finished my 3^rd round of clomid. Still no side effects, thank goodness!” Yeah, up yours lady!

The label does mention sleeplessness. SLEEPLESSNESS? So that’s what they call it. I think it’s much more aptly defined as the inability to go the f*ck to sleep no matter how hard you try. So now you feel as though you are on fire and awake to suffer through it THE ENTIRE NIGHT. You are exhausted beyond belief. And praying for sleep. But ladies... God just isn’t listening. Not tonight anyway.

And tracking ovulation while on this medication is well, impossible. I peed on $50 worth of sticks to no avail. ERROR. No lines. Nothing. Zilch. NOT cool at 5:30 am every single day. Did I mention last month we were CAMPING at the time? Let me tell you how fun that was. 18 glorious days later, I FINALLY see a smiley face. AND THEN….the pain comes…….

Ladies, this is what I imagine child birth must feel like. Or an exploding ovary. Take your pick. And lucky for me, it lasted for 9 STRAIGHT DAYS. Two trips to the ob/gyn, one ultrasound and a giant bottle of pain meds later, my stomach still hurts and is still bloated beyond belief. Still. 3 weeks later. And this is supposed to get me pregnant how? My husband is literally afraid of me. And frankly it’s hard to baby dance when you are doubled over in pain.

And as if this isn’t enough torture for one month, clomid somehow manages to delay AF by 2 days. And anyone going thru the tww knows that even one extra day is mind numbing but 2 DAYS PEOPLE?  I’m lucky I have hair left on my head.  

I’ve been telling myself ever since, I can’t do this again. I just can’t go through it. I can’t torture my body like this. But here we are. Another cycle. Another round of clomid. A tiny little pill of hope that I didn’t even hesitate to swallow.

“There are a handful of things I've astounded or astonished myself on being capable of doing, even if at the time they seemed impossible.” ~ Anonymous fellow blogger.

Have I Said Too Much?

These last few days have been REALLY trying. Its one thing for AF to show up, but to THINK she shows up, then realize she didn’t, but then she does for real but 3 days later than you expected and this NEVER happens, well, your patience sort of wears thin. So thin in fact that by 11:30am yesterday, I was a sobbing mess.

Every month is disappointing to say the least, but yesterday, I just lost it completely and wasn’t sure why this month was harder than others. Maybe because I REALLY thought this was our month. We did everything right. I went thru a great deal of pain thanks to an evil, EVIL medication that is suppose to help with this process but also made me what a fellow blogger so eloquently described as Bitchtastic – which I am sure my husband would thoroughly agree. I spent two weeks praying every day that AF didn’t show her ugly face. Then three days straight praying she would. You see, in the land of TTC, when her arrival is inevitable, the sooner she shows, she sooner you can start trying again!  Although I knew she was coming, it was still devastating. I felt so lost and alone. Alone being the operative word here because, you see, this month the only difference is I tried to keep it all to myself.

People who are having a difficult time conceiving tend to talk about it and nothing else ALL THE TIME. Or at least it seems that way to me. I mean I think about it constantly.  From the time I wake up and poas to the deciphering of every little twinge and pain and what it might mean. I eat, sleep and breathe baby and soon realized that it was all I seemed to be talking about to friends and family. And as much as they love and support me, I’m sure at times  they probably feel like pelting me across the room when I complain or offer up TMI {which tends to happen a lot when your main focus in life involves reproductive parts. : )}

So pent up anger + keeping my frustrations all bottled up + PMS = sobbing blubbering idiot the second a very close co-workers asks how your day is going. And her hugging me and kissing me on the forehead and telling me she loved me only fueled the sob-fest. Another co-worker and one of my BFF’s came into my office once alerted to my state of mind – or maybe it was the fact that I had lost my mind.  I just put my face into my hands and blurted out every single horrible thought I had had in the past 36 hours. She just listened and told me she loved me and would do anything she could to take my pain away. I think it’s the first time I have really let anyone in on how painful this process actually is. It’s the first time I have let my guard down, invited someone in and spoken the words out loud.

I must admit, I felt better once I got it all out of my system. And I realized that even though they don’t always understand or know exactly what to say, aside from “relax”, “it will happen as soon as you stop trying” and the ever popular “it will happen when the time is right”, I do have people that are routing for me and praying hard and hoping just as much as I am that I am able to become a mother.

So maybe I don’t have to keep it ALL inside all the time. Maybe I just need to figure out how to share without being obnoxious, overbearing or a big fat snooze. Maybe I don’t have to be completely ALONE in this. Maybe JUST MAYBE I shouldn’t judge people by the comments they make. They don’t understand exactly how this feels. I didn’t until I started living it. I guess at some point I  have to stop and ask myself, if I were them and they were me, what WOULD I say?

P.S. With all that being said, I’m still baffled by how little grown women know about the reproductive process!!!!!!! It IRKS the crap out of me. Whew. Okay. Now I feel better!  See, like I said. Bitchtastic!!!! J

And so we begin......

So I’ve grappled for months over whether or not to write this blog at all. I mean one mere Google search and you soon find that there are only a bazillion just like it. I know. I’ve read them all. Some days, it keeps me sane. Some days, it makes me want to punch something, hard. But the difference I found between them and me was they had an outlet, and me? I had, well….nothing.

So for the sake of my sanity, my husband’s sanity, my friends’ sanity, etc.- you get the picture- I think its time I found a better way to ‘get things off my chest.’ If at least one person out there is able to relate, feel better or be inspired, then I guess my work here is done.

This journey didn’t begin that long ago. Except when you are trying to conceive - 8 months seems like a lifetime. When you are 36, have major health issues and feel like you are basically running out of time, the long drawn out process of TTC can be just plain excruciating. It’s not like I planned it this way. The future has never really been in my hands. Did I love that it took me 33 years to find love? Um, no. Am I glad I waited? Hell yes. (this is how I know good things DO come to those who wait!) Didn’t I know that someone in my condition waiting this long would make things difficult? Sure, why not. Again, hard to control LIFE here people. Do I look at 30 something year olds when they say “I’m not ready for kids” and want to shake the living freakin' daylights out of them and scream, “what you are waiting for?” YES! I do. But I can’t. I can’t advise people on any of this. I’m just starting out myself.  But what I have found out already is that no matter how much love and support surrounds you, it’s the loneliest journey on earth.

What do I want to do when I feel like no one understands and I have no one to turn to? You got it, WRITE!  Hey, might as well use that degree for something, right?!?!  So this is my outlet. My catharsis (I hate that word but for lack of a better one….).  My way of NOT unloading all these horrible feelings on my husband, friends, and family. Trust me. It’s better this way. (wink)

Thank you for reading. And good luck to you if you are on the same daunting journey – the path to motherhood.