Fortune cookie

Really? Wouldn't that be nice.

New Years reflection

I never thought I'd learn so much from living in perpetual incompletion. I always thought it was by solving our problems that we would grow, the resolution was the key. As times goes by I learn even more how wrong I've been, it's by weathering the storm, not surviving it, that we learn to appreciate the calm that comes afterward. Even if the calm never comes.

The past two years have taught me a lot about life. I've learned the beauty of today, despite the horrors of yesterday. I've learned that my husband truly loves me more than I ever imagined. Love can win, if we let it. Some things in life really are worth fighting for, and I am strong enough to put up a fight. I've learned that losing the most important things in my life will not kill me, even it feels like it should. I can survive. I've learned that hope is both a curse and an eternal blessing. It can lift or crush, and it doesn't even matter what the outcome is.

In the coming year I hope I can learn to have more faith and patience. I hope I can learn that though some things are immovable, there are some things that are fluid and change with our lives. And sometimes that's okay. I hope I learn that I can have a life outside this horrible tragedy. I hope I can learn more about dancing in the rain, and spend less time waiting for the storm to pass. I hope that I can learn acceptance. I hope I can come to embrace that acceptance doesn't mean giving up, but that is means living each day to the fullest, instead of in mourning something I can not control.

And so, where did 2008 lead me?

- Down roads of birth control pills for a couple months while I got my mind straightened out after discovering I was a 21 year old newly wed who may never have a child (Novemeber of 2007 can kiss my ass.)
- January brought me to quit smoking (and May brought me to picking it back up due to the loss of my baby, and then it was back to quitting.)
- Then onto to herbal remedies to try to aide with ovulation
- I found my new ob/gyn
- I found the joy of pregnancy
- I discovered firsthand the horrors of pregnancy loss
- Two weeks after I lost my baby I found out I won three literary awards
- I lost my last living grandparent in May (Cancer at the age of 85.) This happened about one and a half to two weeks after I lost my pregnancy
- Somehow while all this crap was happening in May, I still passed all my classes with A's
- I did my first public reading of my work
- I was published in the campus' literary journal
- I started paying out the ass for my first RE, whose office is an hour away from me
- I met failed cycle after cycle of pills that did absolutely nothing but give me headaches and money down the drain. And discovered that injectable may be our only option
- My damn cat got knocked up and had kittens
- One of my best friends got pregnant, and had an uneventful and happy pregnancy. I went to her son's baptism just last month
- My brothers mom accidentally got pregnant, with twins boys. Which she carried and delivered uneventfully, right on schedule
- My car broke down a couple of times
- I became a second year senior in college
- I got a new job, again. But I actually like this job for the most part, so it's okay.
- I ovulated a total of two times this year, go me...
- Lots of people got married, had children, and went on with their lives. I feel like I've been stuck in time as everyone evolves around me, they follow some divine natural order. I stand deaf and mute, but not blind. I am paralyzed and forced to watch everyone that I know follow this natural order that I am unable to follow myself.

All I got to say is, 2009 better be better (Or else I'm going to drop kick it right in it's stupid face.)

On a more positive note

My husband is so cute sometimes. We played the lottery tonight for the hell of it (No, we didn't win.) We were talking about what we would do with the 26million if we won.

Pay off debt, buy a nice house in the country, a car, injectables/IUI... I then told him I could think of a few charities that would be getting very generous donations. I'd be giving away several million if I had it to give. A- looked at me and said he would like to a big fat check to a foundation that helps people to afford adoption. Made me smile.

About a month ago I was telling him the odds of multiples with injectables and IUI. I was explaining that the risk of twins goes up to 20% and 5% for triplets or more. He smiled and looked at me and said, "I could hit those odds." I looked back at him and said, "No, uhh, we don't want to hit those odds. Twins, fine. More? Dangerous." I looked at him again, "Not six."

It's been our running joke since we discovered the need for injectables... cause of the similarities between us and J.on and K.ate... A-'s a IT guy/programmer, I have PCOS, we're looking into injectables... yeah, just a joke. But still. Occasionally we look at each other and say, "Not six." I'll take what I get, but I'd rather not end up with six on accident.

He keeps teasing me because lately I've been painting with tools other than my paint brushes... I keep trying to explain to him that artists use whatever is available and often use innovative tools to create masterpieces (Not that I'm creating masterpieces, but rather am just vetting out emotions... but still.) He doesn't get it. It's okay though. I'll just keep scraping my paint together in interesting ways. It's a good release.

In other news... the sorta non-medicated Soy/Metformin cycle continues. Maybe I'll get lucky and ovulate, ha ha ha! Yay, right. Well, one can wish. Hope is not gone just yet.

Thankful and Musings

Thanks to a very generous Holiday bonus at A's work, and generous X-mas cash... we're getting closer to our injectable funds goal!

Is this hope? Maybe. Of course we'll just have the one shot this year, but that's okay. It's a chance. I'll take it. If it doesn't work, then we'll start saving and try again next year.

The reason I say one chance... if it doesn't work, that's about $4,000 down the drain with no results. Remember, my insurance covers NOTHING. I don't think I could flush $8,000 in one year... I can't bring myself to do that. That's a lot of money. So, one try a year is all I am willing to do for now. It's a more bearable amount.

So, I am somewhat thankful right now. I'd be more thankful if A's work gave him the raise they promised instead of the bonus... but like I said, I am glad they did something. It helps.

________________________________

I have to be at work in 6 hours to man the midnight to 8am shift at the DV shelter. I really do like my job, even if it can be stressful at times. I think I fit there better than anywhere else because I know firsthand what these woman have been through. I'm not serving donuts, or ringing a cash register... I'm actually helping people get out of violent situations, helping them get on their feet. It's rewarding. And the kids,it touches me that these woman are willing to leave everything behind to try their hands at a better life for themselves and their children. My mother was never brave enough to do that for me. I wish she had. I would have given anything as a child for my mother to just go her own way and live by herself for once. She never did, not until after she admitted herself to a psychiatric ward and I moved out. She's been on her own ever since.

Of course, we have woman who come into the shelter who lie, abuse the system, who go back to the lives they used to lead even... but there's only so much you can do. Those woman hurt me. I know you can only show them the way, you can not make them walk it. But still...

I'm okay with that for the most part... it's just when I see the children that I get a little uspet inside (I'd never show it though.) I sometimes want to shake the moms who drag their children back to their old lives, I want to tell them, "Don't you know what you're doing to your child? You can't tell now, but that life is going to hurt them. You can't know now how they will cringe when people raise their voices, how they will be terrified of the smell of beer, how they will either implode or explode someday."

I was an imploder. I caved into myself and my depression, I stayed quiet because it was safer. It's safer to stay off the radar. Being noticed as a child always meant being beaten, sent to a corner, screamed at with foul Busch breath.When I got older I started exploding, reverberating from the implosion all those years before. I started screaming back.

My brother's were exploders from day one, getting into drugs and drinking, lashing out. Getting suspensions from school, in trouble with the law, fights. I never exploded like that. I was a calculating exploder. I refused to do anything that the abusers did, I refused to do anything my mother did, I was going to live a different life. I started telling myself at 6 that this was not the way I was going to live. I got good grades, I latched onto books, I stayed out of trouble, I was quiet, I didn't have sex while still in school because my mother was a teen mother (the biggest regret of her life, by the way), I told myself I was going to go to college, I was going to live a different life. I was going to have children, I would love them, and they were going to have a different life. I was going to make sure they had everything I never had. They were going to be loved, and wanted. I went to college for my future children, not for myself...

Everything I ever did in my life was because I was not going to live my mother's life. My children were not going to live mine. I am thankful I came out of my childhood unscathed. The statistics say I should be a teen mother, a drug addict, a highschool dropout... I am none of those things. The odds were always against me though. I've seen enough people come out the wrong side, while I was lucky enough to come out alive and well. I don't know how I did it. Resilence? Bullheadedness? Will power? Luck? Whatever it was, I am thankful.

The thing that gets me... I did a majority of this in the hopes of the future I had dreamed of. Now that future is falling apart. I am afraid of what that means. What if I can't attain the future I've sought all my life? I mean, if I can't get pregnant and I can't adopt for some reason... What do I live for then? Will I be able to dream up something else? Will I be able to live for myself? I don't think I can do that, I can't even imagine doing that.

Ah, anyways. I am thankful for somethings and musing on others. And there you have it.

Good to be back

I'm still alive, I swear!

I wasn't able to use my computer for a few days. I got a nasty relentless virus that could not be stopped. We had to wipe my hard drive and start fresh. After backing up ALL my files first, of course. I was so terrified of losing everything. It's good to have my computer back... how I missed her.

In other news... I am feeling better, those antibiotics really did the job. I am almost 100% better, LOVE IT. I am taking the Soy Isonoflaves. I don't expect to ovulate this cycle, it's not like I have a good track record of this happening... but we'll see. My period is finally almost over. It's out staying it's welcome, I think it's because I'm not on Clomid. Clomid usually makes it stop prematurely... which is weird, but it's something I've noticed. This is also the first time since the month following the miscarriage that I don't have a clomid-headache... ya know, because I didn't take the Clomid this month... it's kinda refreshing.

I am going to try my best to survive this holiday season... hope I pull through. Wish me luck.

I'm sure I'll be back on here to scream soon enough.

If it's not one thing, it's another.

I am at an impasse again.

I am sick, stressed out, so tired.

I'm probably going to be sick for about 2 weeks, since that seems to be how long the common cold takes to leave my system. A- is getting his abscessed tooth removed on Friday. And cycle day one is nearly upon us, I'm sure it will finally be here soon. I'm spotting finally.

And since neither A- or I are going to be in the baby making mood for at least a week to two weeks... I don't see the point in giving the Clomid a go this month. So I decided to wait until January to try it again.

However, I am going to give Soy a try this month. What do I have to lose? It will at least make me feel like I'm doing something, instead of sitting around doing nothing. Besides, I've been curious about it.

Another issue... A-'s dental surgery might not be covered by his insurance... because they're big jerk-faces. It's a long aggravating story, and I don't feel like going into it right now. Anyways... there goes $500 of our injectable funds. So much for that.

Maybe I can still save up the money by summer, but I'm starting to think about maybe trying to get a home loan instead... I would like to move someplace better. Someplace I can relax, somewhere in the country. I hate living so close to my neighbors, I hate this house, I hate all the memories that are building here.

But then I'd have to wait longer to try injectables.

I've got a lot on my plate right now. My EDD for my loss is approaching, my birthday, another wasted cycle, stupid Holidays, a new year, being sick, A-'s surgery to remove that darn tooth... I'm all discombobulated.

Bleh.

The Age of Infertility

This girl doesn't know yet. She's eighteen, and she doesn't realize that the hell she's living in will only get worse. She doesn't realize that a few years later, when she's finally in a better place and happy, then her world will come tumbling down. She doesn't even see the danger lurking on the horizon.

Ignorance truly is bliss.

If I had started trying to have a baby at eighteen, I could understand people staring at me like I'm crazy. But I started at twenty-two, after being married for a year, and living with my husband for almost four years. Yet, even with my twenty-fourth birthday looming a month away, being married for three years this July, together for six, people still give me that glassy eyed look. They still stare at me like I'm nuts. I don't get it.

I also sometimes feel like people brush me off about infertility. I found out at twenty-two. I mean, an infertile twenty-two year old? I fall into the 5%. I think those statistics are wrong, I think that there are woman at twenty-two, or younger, who don't even know they're infertile. I didn't realize at sixteen that I had PCOS, I didn't think about it. I didn't acknowledge that I was growing a mustache, I got rid of it. I didn't care that I was only getting a period every few months, starting from the very first one... no, I was the luckiest teenager ever. I didn't get periods hardly ever.

What I didn't know then could fill a book.

So, that's why I feel the statistics are skewed. You can have a reproductive disorder lurking, and not even know about it until much later. And since many woman wait until they're older, we don't find out about it until we're older.

If I had started trying at eighteen (or even just had a competent doctor), I could have caught PCOS early. Began keeping it in check early. If I had known about it while I was skinny, I would have put greater effort into staying skinny. I would have made greater efforts in keeping up my daily walks. I would have known the danger that was lurking... but no one warned me. I didn't see it coming.

I don't regret waiting, I was in no position to be a mother back then (I do regret all that wasted money on BCP's and condoms though.) But I regret not finding out earlier, when I had a better chance to make things work. It's easier to maintain a weight, than to loose 80 pounds. It's easier to keep up an exercise routine than to jump into it again.

And while, yes, I'm young. It really doesn't make it hurt any less. I feel like an oddity sometimes, a young infertile. People treat it like an oxymoron, you're supposed to be most fertile in your twenties... yeah, how about not always? How about, that statement scares me even. If I'm my most fertile now, when I'm not ovulating... how much worse can it get when I reach my thirties and forties? Will an ovary die, my uterus close up, will my tubes do a little dance and end up knotted together?

The fact of the matter is that infertility hurts at any age, and it doesn't increase your odds of having a baby either. It just gives you more time to figure out what you're going to do about it, more times to try. It doesn't mean you'll have success, even with more chances of trying you don't always have an increased chance of getting pregnant. Yet people tell me to relax, I have plenty of time. That's strange, because two years of my life have just about passed me by, and I still haven't increased my odds of having a baby. I still don't ovulate, I'm still just as barren as ever. So, yeah. I have more time. It hasn't helped me though.

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I found out in my twenties. It gives me more time to think about my options and figure everything out. I know what I'm up against. But damn, the things I didn't know then, that I know now.

Silly me.

Show and Tell

Show and tell, join the class! To find out more, go here.

I was going to make Lasagna and post pictures of the process... but I never got around to buying the ingredients. Sorry, maybe next time! Instead, I thought I'd share with everyone something I saw at my mother's on Thanksgiving that broke my heart. Cause I like to be the downer...

"Welcome to Grandma's House. Children Spoiled While You Wait."

The names of each living grandchild are on that, they each have a heart of their own.

Something so small, and yet packed with so much. All I could think of was that there were 5 hearts, only 5. There should be 7. There should be 7 hearts, not 5. But, they can't be spoiled, can they. They died.

My sister's daughter, Amariah, was the first grandchild. She was stillborn at 41-42 weeks. My Sebastian was the last grandchild, he was lost at 5 weeks. There is nothing in my mother's home to commemorate Sebastian. My mother used to have Amariah's picture hanging in her home, but I didn't see it out this time. I don't know for sure if it wasn't out, or if I just couldn't see it. Tucked away somewhere, in the dark.

No, our children will never be spoiled. All they are to anyone else is their passing.

Stupidity

My father in law knows about the miscarriage, but he didn't know about the infertility apparently.

We were dropping off the rent money to him, a monthly obligated visit. The topic of the economy was brought up, as he had been recently laid off at the old factory. We agreed that times were tough, saying we had to cut back to save money. He talks about how it's hard to get by, I say that we get by just fine it's just that we have to save money for medical reasons.

He asks why... awkward much? I told him we needed to save for fertility treatments.

"Aw, are you guys trying to make me a grandpa?"
"We've been trying for 2 years." (It will be 2 years in April, but let's not argue semantics right now.)
"Oh. Do you guys have names picked out?"

What the hell? Do we have names picked out? Did he not hear the "infertility treatments" or the "trying two years" part of that conversation? Does he not remember that we had a miscarriage?

_______________________

Thankfully mother in laws Thanksgiving was uneventful. Awkward, but uneventful. We sat quietly listening to everyone else's conversations, weren't included in many, and then we took an early leave. The only person in my husbands family that is actually friendly with me is his mother, and she's not the best. Since we started dating, up until we had the miscarriage, she would ask me every time "Do you guys have any news for me?" or "Are you pregnant?"

No, but thanks for asking. And after that, she started asking how "things were going" referring to the treatments. She even said she'd be a surrogate for us like those news stories about the lady carrying her grandchildren for her daughter... Uh, no thanks. If I'm going to go through IVF I'd have the embies put in me. My uterus is actually very nice, it's the ovaries that are dumb. I am thankful that she didn't bring any of it up with me at Thanksgiving. No one else in his family knew about the infertility, so I'd like to keep it that way.

And that concludes the first awful holiday season. The next one will be much worse I'm afraid.

Just when you think it's ok

Sister in law tells me all about a tattoo she wants to get representing my brother, her two children, and her father who passed away. I tell her about the tattoo I was thinking about getting to represent my miscarriage.

Momentary silence.

"So you guys still trying?"
"Yeah, but we're sort of on a break to save money for more treatments. We need about $4,000 for an injectable medicated cycle."
"What are the odds of it working?"
"My doc thinks the odds are good. I have the parts, they work, I'm just not making the hormones to make them work."
"All that money just to have a baby, and then the cost after..."
"Yeah, well we're hoping one time is enough. We're willing to try it twice, after that it's on to adoption."
"I have a sick kid in there I'd love to give you, she comes complete with clothes and everything."

I change the subject after a momentary awkward silence.

I wonder if I'll be able to cope better with this type of awkwardness, or if it's just going to make me more bitter and bitchy as the years go on.

One family Thanksgiving down, one completely avoided, and one more to go.

It's moments like this when I wonder why my parents, and my husbands, all had to get divorced. (But in honesty, I am quite thankful they did get divorced. Some people just should not be together.) At least my dad doesn't celebrate the Holidays, he's a regular old bachelor. But still, we end up having to go three different places every freaking year to everyone's little rendezvous. It's like overkill.

More ranting coming to you soon.

Tunnel Vision

It's a busy week. School projects to be filmed, papers to be wrote, papers to be wrote, more papers to be wrote, work to be done, people to see, places to go...

Other than that, I have started watching my calorie intake... trying to be mindful. See, I'm not eating horrible (Except for all those pizza's that I cram while I'm cramming for Midterms and Finals!) I'm a vegetarian, 6 years now. I don't eat lots of greasy foods, or fatty. I actually don't get enough fat and protein in my diet... I need to be extra mindful of that I think. I've really really got to get the protein thing figured out, my soy products are not cutting it. Neither is the dairy. Blah. Anyways, I am watching my calories. I was getting a few to many, I think. Now, I can watch that and make sure I don't. That should help some. In a few weeks I am going to start an exercise routine. You know, after finals and while I'm on break.

For now it's baby steps. I am watching my food intake, taking my Metformin, and hopefully soon I will be working out.

On the baby making side of things...
I need to figure out when I should get the Prometrium to bring on a new cycle... I think it should be soon. I'm on CD 24 with no sign of ovulation. But I wasn't counting on that anyway...

I hate having to decide when to get my period. But, how about I look at this in a more positive manner... I get to decide when I get my period. No wondering if it will show up when I don't want it, or if it's going to ruin my day/weekend, my swimming, show up randomly when I'm in class or at the movies... I am in control. I never thought of it like that. Huh.

Muahahahaha! (I just felt like that this was necessary here!)

CT results

Fatty liver... just as we suspected.

The good news? I get to go back on the Metformin! I just have to get my liver enzymes checked out each month while I'm on it. No biggie.

Needless to say... I am relieved. I hope it helps out. My temps have been CRAZY this cycle. They're like the freaking Rockies, up and down and up and down. I've been charting since March, and they've never been like this before. It's driving me crazy. I haven't changed anything in my temping routine, and even on anovulatory cycles (or ovulatory cycles for that matter) have never been like this. Blah, oh well.

Drifting through a fog

I'm having a hard time tonight. This Thursday will mark the one year mark since we had a doctor confirm I was not ovulating. One year since I was told I probably had PCOS. We'd stopped using protection 7 months prior to that, in the hopes of concieving in our own time.

Yeah, right. Here we are, one year and seven months later... still childless.

I should be due in a little over a month. I wish I was... the New Year is like a ticking time bomb. It's ticking, "Not yet, not yet, not yet. Too bad, too bad, too bad."

I want my baby back.

It's been a long year. Diagnosis', fertility treatments, pregnancy and loss, empty month after empty month. Failure, failure, failure.

I can only try to hope that next year will mark something different, a new beginning. But not tonight, I don't feel that way tonight. I feel like it's just getting worser the further I go down this rabbit hole. The emptiness, that hole in my heart, keeps growing bigger.

I wish I could go back to that naive woman, one year and seven months ago. I wish I could still feel exhilarated about the thought of making a baby. I wish I could still hop into bed excited, expecting that this time... maybe this time... I would get pregnant. I wish I could go back to that girl who left the spare bedroom empty, full of hope that soon it would be a nursery.

I don't like the routine of sex anymore, knowing that I have to do it this day and that day in some vain effort. I don't like feeling completely hopeless all the time. I don't like that the would-be-nursery is now my office/art room. How I would rather it be full and ready for my baby, due a month from now. But it's not. I'm not pregnant, I haven't been for almost 7 months now. And that naive woman is long gone.

I miss her. I miss those hopes, those dreams, those feelings of joy.

I have my CT scan in the morning, and my follow-up appointment on Friday. Thursday, the day the shit hit the fan... I'm going to a concert. I hope it's a good enough distraction.

More CloMOOD ranting

Darn you Clomid, ye fiend!

How dare you bring me these headaches, and ovary pains... and yet still not deliver an egg. I am not your fool, I know your whiley ways. You trick, you over-compensate, you are a villain yet.

What I won't miss most about Clomid... all the signs that I might ovulate, and then I don't ovulate.

Sure won't miss that. Not the stabbing ovary pains either, or the headaches from hell... or the wasted months.

Now, I know... I'm only on cycle day 14 of this fiasco now... but with my track record? This was a "just for the hell of it" cycle. A, "Whatever... not like I'm going to ovulate" cycle. I don't care... which is a lie. Because I do. I care that I don't ovulate, month after month after month. It hurts to fail so absolutely, so miserably, to the point of "I'm trying, but not really trying" because if you don't ovulate you don't even have a shit chance out of hell. Not without absolute miraculous conception. It's not just a failure of the cycle, but a failure of the body, of hope, of chance. It's absolute failure, like shooting blanks. Well, not blanks... more like shooting a gun with no bullets. I have the guns, but no ammo. It doesn't matter how much I try to materialize bullets out of thin air... I can't. So the gun is ready, always at the ready... but then nothing happens. Ever.

I'm already trying to figure out how the husband and I can squirrel away massive amounts of money each month, so that we'll have enough saved up for injectables and IUI. It's going to be hard, I know that much. But I'm hoping it will be worth it.

Ungh. I need to stop thinking so far ahead. My psyche only reaches so far before it gets smattered from overstepping it's limits.

It would

It would be nice if the Clomid was working... I've had a migraine for the past 3 days. No doubt Clomid induced. Clomid always causes migraines. I've been finished with taking the Clomid for 5 days, I think, but that doesn't stop the Clomid headaches from making short work of me.

I skipped class today... Shhh, don't tell.

I just didn't feel up to it. I'm exhausted, my brain feels like someone is taking a riveter to it, and I didn't get my homework done (I spent most of yesterday laying in a dark/quiet room... rather than doing my homework.)

MIA

I've been a tad MIA lately... compared to my normal chattiness.

I've been distracted. Haven't been thinking, or rather I've been trying not to think.

My liver u/s was inconclusive. Have to get a CT scan next week to check it out. Hopefully we'll get some answers then. I've been swamped with school, as the quarter is winding down and we're getting hot and heavy into papers galore. I have a massive headache, probably from the Clomid.

I'm still planning, trying to figure out what's next.

Nightmares

I had three hours of sleep last night. I woke up early to get my liver ultrasound. Then I went to work. Then I went to my friend's house to visit her and to meet her baby. While I was there I get a call from the new doctor's office. Turns out the lab messed up my blood work, as well as many other people's blood work. I have to redo the blood work tomorrow. Great. Then I came home, and clonked out.

And of course, while I was catching up on Zz's, I had a nightmare. I dreamt I was pregnant again, and I was having another miscarriage. And the doctor's were incompetent.

Yeah, thanks subconscious. I really needed that today.

Appt. on Tuesday to go over everything with my doctor. I finished my Clomid tonight. Good thing too, I wasn't sure I'd be able to take 4 a night for much longer! Those stupid little pills always get stuck on my tongue, and they're so nasty! Ungh. Just... ungh.

So now we wait.
Of course, we're always waiting. That's nothing new.

Flip Flop

So... I changed my mind about not doing the Clomid this cycle. I know, I am a flip flopper.

I can't get my HSG done this month because of scheduling conflicts. My RE does HSGs on Tuesdays... he's not in next Tuesday. O....K.... so it was postponed until next cycle. This left me feeling like nothing was getting done this cycle after all... I didn't like feeling that. So I was like... ok, new plan.

A- and I decided that we're going to do the Clomid this month without follicle monitoring. I doubt it will work, so what will it hurt... I say. And if, when, it doesn't work... we can be done with Clomid and start saving for injectables. That's the new plan.

So, I got the news about the HSG, hadn't made decisions about the Clomid yet... hadn't even talked to A- yet... and I go get my bloodwork done for the liver function test and the anaphospholipid test.

I was already in the barren bitch mood... the lady takes me back. She ties the rubber band around my bicep. She asks how I'm doing, while she digs in the drawer for the right needle. I say, "Fine. Besides the band hurting. Those things always hurt." nervous laughter from me. She pauses, and then says something like, "No it doesn't. Those things don't hurt." I retort, "Well it does for me." Now... I know I've been through worse, but that doesn't mean that the band didn't hurt at that moment... damn it. But she, being a smart ass, says, "Do you have any children?" I tense, reply, "No." She gets a self satisfied tone to her voice, and says that having a baby hurts. I look at her and say, "Yeah? Well I've had a miscarriage, and that hurts pretty bad too." Stupid woman. She mumbles, "Yeah, I guess that would too." Stupid woman. I was silent, she was silent, for the remainder of the time. Stupid woman.

And that's my rant for the day.

For those in America... DON'T FORGET TO VOTE! (Preferably for my guy, but... you don't know who that is! So... I'll give you a hint. I am PRO woman's rights. And I'm voting for "that one.")

Aggression can be good

I aggressively called the insurance company back.

I told them I was going to get a clear answer this time, because A- called yesterday and they didn't give him one about the HSG. This time they said that they would definitely cover it, I'll have a co-pay, but they'll cover some of it.

And they'll cover my antiphospholipid b/w.

I had it out with the girl about my liver function test too, because they didn't cover it for some reason. Turns out it has to be pre-approved, my doc has to send them a letter and then the insurance company has to review it before they'll approve to pay for it. Ungh. I wish I would have thought about calling them before I got the test done! I'm still so new to the world of having health insurance.

Frustrating. I'm still going to wait for next month for the monitoring, money is still going to be tight this month. But hopefully next month we will be good to go with the Clomid.

At an impasse

I'm thinking about sitting this cycle out. I don't know. I really want u/s monitoring, but I really don't have the money to do that this cycle. So, if I do the Clomid I won't be able to do any monitoring...

I need to go get my b/w to test for Antiphospholipid Syndrome, and my co-pay for the HSG, and I have to get my liver tested again on the 3rd... so that is going to suck up a lot of money.

I'm so confused on what to do.

I want to take the Clomid, but I can't get monitoring... A- and I are going to talk it over once he gets home. Should I sit this out, or do Clomid without monitoring? I just do not know what to do. I don't want to be broke this month, and we will if we go ahead with everything. But I have to get the b/w done, and I should probably go ahead with the HSG too. (My insurance doesn't cover anything involving infertility, except diagnosis... stupid insurance.)

Ahhh, I just don't know.

What to do, what to do...

Where'd they go?

He took a look, "Looks like the lining got thicker. That's a good sign!"

He maneuvers it to the right... "Nothing over here."

He maneuvers it to the left... "Nothing over here either."

A silent unspoken, "Damn." echoes in my mind.

I was given two options.
He surprised me.

Originally he told me he only went as high as 150mg with Clomid, but he said we could try 200mg.

The second option. Injectables. Which means I'd have to take a break, save money.

I jumped on the chance to up the Clomid once more. I don't want to take a break just yet. After this though... we'll call it quits for a few months. Save money. Start again.

I'm so... blah... right now.

I was so hopeful.

I think the only reason I responded before was because of the Metformin.
I honestly do.

Stupid liver.
Stupid ovaries.
stupid me.

(the photo is from a class I took, I had to document something. I chose hands. This is my little brothers hand, with a wooden sword I had given him for x-mas... which he broke.)

Damn it

I have stupid ovaries.

So, it's CD14. Clomid 150mg, CD3-7. Sounds like a winner?

Wrong.

I have two follicles on the left... 6mm and 7mm.
I have two follicles on the right.. 7mm and 8mm.

Fuck.

I do not think this is the cycle after all.
I go back in Friday to see if they're grown any.

Fuck.
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!

If this doesn't work I'll have to take a break to save up money.

Why the hell does an u/s appt. cost $360 anyways?
It took a whole fucking 5 minutes, and we got to see my right ovary and sorta the left (It was elusive. He could barely find it.)

I want to go back to bed.
I hate my body. It's so stupid.

Edited to add: It can make a pretty lining though, a nice solid 10mm. Go you Ms. Uterus.

Show and Tell

I know, I know. I just posted something like three hours ago. But I felt like participating in show and tell, so you get a double post tonight! Although technically it's the next day now, because it's after midnight... but let's not argue semantics, shall we? On with the showing and the telling! Want to know more? Check this out.

Okay, so keeping with the theme of the Holidays, from the previous post... I wanted to share the ornament I bought this season.

It says, "Every life leaves something beautiful behind."

Here's the official hallmark picture of it, since mine is a tad blurry. (My camera and I were having issues.)

Someone in one of my groups bought it for her loss this year, and I really clicked with it. I felt compelled to it, it was perfect for my Sebastian. So, I went out and got one.

Now, I thought it was really befitting for obvious reasons. But now I'll go into further reasons. In my family some of our ornaments are special. My mother bought one for each of her living children, little angels sleeping on a crescent moon, we each have our own, with our names on them. When my sister's baby was stillborn my mother bought a gold ornament and got Amariah's name inscribed on it, and the year she was lost. Last Christmas my grandmother made me go to her tree and pick an ornament, something to remember her by. I did, begrudgingly. I always hate it when grandparents tell you to take things with you to remember them by, while they're still alive. Well, my grandmother died a few months later. I have an ornament her parents brought to America from Germany.

Every year I loved opening the X-mas boxes, and carefully unwrapping each ornament, and remembering each moment. Carefully placing them on the tree for safety from the cats, and for proper viewing.

Ornaments are really our only solid family tradition.

And I plan on keeping it. So, this ornament falls into the folds. It's perfect for remembering Sebastian. I was planning on buying him one, and there it was. The one, the perfect one. There are so many ornaments to commemorate a new life, and so few to commemorate a loss.

And even though I am not decorating this year, I am going to put this ornament up.

Okay, and now something not so serious.

How many cats can fit on my lap? One, so the runoff settles for curling up next to my legs. Cute, huh? Yes, there are 4 here; Ishida, Gary, Pumpkin, and Devo. Silly kitties.
I feel very loved. And just so you know, a pile of cats gets warm fast. Very fast.

And the word of this season is...

Self Preservation.

This Holiday season is going to be the worst one yet. I just want to survive it, I'm not even going to be so naive as to want to enjoy it. All I want is to make it through the New Year in one piece.
The closer January 3rd gets (my would be due date,) the more I want to hike up my skirts and run in the opposite direction. The closer each Holiday gets I want to flee that much farther. My belly should be swollen, even now. I should be obviously pregnant, I should be huge this Christmas. Instead, I still wear that empty damning womb. My ovaries are still limp, useless, ornaments. My life is still very much incomplete.
I should be giving birth late December, or early January, instead I will be going back to classes. My birthday will be on January 30th, and it will pass unacknowledged. I will be 24. I started trying to have a child when I was 22, with the goal of having a child sometime while I was 23. I guess, in a way, I have one. He's just not here with me.
The days seem to be dragging out. The days seem long, languid, lifeless. Yet they keep passing me by. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, May, June, July, August, September. Each day I hold my feet back, I try to grow roots into yesterday, I try to ground myself. I try to resist time itself, but the days keep dragging me on. I keep getting closer, and closer, to those days that should hold happiness for me.
This Christmas not only will I not be bursting with child, I will also not be seeing my grandparents. All of them are gone now. With my grandmother's passing in May (two weeks after my baby), it signaled the end of that era. I will never again visit my grandmother for Christmas, unless I venture out into the day and visit her grave. All of their graves.
This season seems so bittersweet.
So...
I'm checking out this Holiday season. I'm throwing in the towel. I won't be decorating the house this year, I won't be going to the in-laws homes (where insensitive comments, and snide criticisms await) I decided that self preservation is the only way to go this season.
However, as I have a weak disposition, giving in easily for the good of everyone else and never for myself (stupid me for being the martyr type.)... I had to make a solid excuse, something even I couldn't weasel out of. How did I do that? I volunteered to work this Thanksgiving. Who would argue with that? I'm working at a domestic violence shelter, someone has to be there 24/7... why not me? I will get paid double time as well. So, I'll be there for the residents, I'll be getting paid double, I will be self preserving myself... It seems like the perfect plan. Perhaps it may seem extreme, but I really don't think I could hold it together this season.
November, it was a year ago, I got my confirmation of anovulation. I started down the slope of infertility. This November I should be that much closer to a resolution, but I'm not. I'm not even close. And everyday I still think about what I've lost.
This pain, most family are oblivious to it. Some know about the infertility, some don't... but all know about the miscarriage. And no one seems to care. And that's fine, they didn't go through it, they're not still going through it. I don't want pity, but damn it, is understanding so much to ask for?
I just can't take it this season, I feel so raw. Rug burns on my heart, open burn wounds on my soul. I can't let my baby go, and I can't seem to beat infertility. It's a double whammy. My baby is gone, and I don't know if I'll ever get a chance to be a mother again. I keep wondering, what if that baby, my Sebastian... what if he was my only chance?
______________

I go in Monday for my ultrasound to check for follicles.

I'm not feeling it.

My ovaries hurt for a week before ovulation last time. I can't even feel them now, let alone feel them hurting. It's a bit disheartening. But we'll see, I'll know for sure this time. I can take comfort in that, being removed from all the guesswork this cycle. But still, I'm scared. What if this doesn't work? What if Clomid is a dud, even at 150mg? I'll have to take a break to save up for injectables, I don't want to stop treatments. Not yet, not now.

Fingers crossed for my ultrasound on Monday.

This is for the past.

And this is for the future.

Stillbirth Awareness and Research Act.

It's almost October 15th. National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.

I want to promote supporting the H.R. 5979 Stillbirth Awareness and Research Act. I wish that there could be some answers, I wish there'd be some recognition.

Tomorrow I am lighting a candle for all the lost ones. Will you join me?

I will be remembering my sister's daughter Amariah, stillborn at 42 weeks.

I will be remembering my aunt Sandy. My grandmother lost her to stillbirth.

I will be remembering my would have been siblings, one who passed away to miscarriage, another as an abortion.

I will be remembering my aunt's child that she lost to still birth many, many, years ago.

I will be remembering my friend's 5 lost children, all miscarried far to soon.

I will be remembering my loss, my Sebastian. Who was so long in the making, and so short in staying with me. He barely touched my life, but he touched it in an irrevocable way.

I will be remembering all my online friends lost ones, I will be thinking of all of us. Our pain, our loss, our quiet suffering. Our beautiful children.

Please remember with me.

Show and tell

So for this Show and Tell, I thought I'd share with you my collection. Not a collection of things I like, or things I wanted to have, no knick knacks here... just my life. It's strange that now my life can easily fit into snapshots. How they easily fit tucked away into the corners of my desk, my filing cabinet, my box of the past. Without further rambling, I present to you the last five months of my life.

And may I present to you what's left of my first, and only pregnancy.
Meet Sebastian.

A doctor's notes, an ultrasound of an empty womb, a nurse's comments, results from blood work, photos of a positive pregnancy test, and my BBT chart.

This is all I have. Yet it hurts so much more than anything I've ever went through. Something so simple, yet so very vast.

And since the miscarriage I've went through pill bottle after pill bottle, trying to get my ovaries to work. Month, after month, after month, after month.

And yet, I wonder if maybe... just maybe... the road may be coming to an end. This cycle, higher dose, monitoring, (Dare I say it? A trigger shot!), I'm feeling good about this cycle. I know, it might not happen... and there's always next month... but it would be nice is it was this month. On November 4, it will have been 6 months since my miscarriage.

If I got pregnant this cycle I would be due the week of A and I's anniversary (Our 6 years of being together, 3 since being married.) It would be nice if it panned out that way. We became a couple on July 12, we got engaged on a July 12, and we got married on... you guessed it, a July 12. It's our very, very, special day. I don't know why I am focusing on that, but I am. This is the first time in 5 months that I have had any hope.

Foolish, I know. But it's nice to have a little hope for once. I haven't had any of that in one and a half years. Let me set myself up for heart break. My heart's already broken, what harm can it do?

(I kept all the bottles, I figured I can use them as art somewhere along the way. And I have plenty ideas on how to utilize them. And will be doing so. Art is so cathartic.)

Eyes stinging nettles

Even before leaving the house this morning my eyes burned with a fire. I was crying last night, because I haven't let myself cry all week. Everytime the tears attempted to brim over, I would fight them back. I'd tell myself, "No. Not now." I'd say, "You're being silly." I would muster the gumption to stop them in their tracks. Tears over little things; like commercials and random errant thoughts. Tears over bigger things; like the upcoming holidays and my barren womb. Like how it's almost been 6 months since I lost my first and only pregnancy. Like how I have only ovulated once since then.

This morning I received a text message, and I almsot broke down on my way out the door for work. My eyes are stinging nettles. It was a simple text message, one that last year would have been all smiles and gushing. Now, there's that happiness in there, but there's also that pity for self. It said simply, "T is having the baby today! I will keep you posted."

I'm so glad she's having the baby today. She was due 6 days ago, so it's about time. I knew it was coming. And I'm happy for her, I really am. But it hurts. It hurts so badly. And as I drove to work it wasn't just the glaring morning sun that blinded me, but also my burning eyes. My eyes, the stinging nettles.

This evening, when I leave work, I will go to my quiet time. My time. Sebastian's time. The hours between my time being owned by my job, and being owed to my husband. The twilight of my life is not when the sun is setting to welcome in the darkness, but rather when I am settling into my couch and allowing myself to feel. It is me letting myself mourn Sebastian, letting myself mourn my lost fertility, mourn the future I didn't realize would be so damn hard to have.

I will go home today, I will shut my eyes, I will stare at nothing, and I will cry. And then, I will pick myself up and make myself go about my day. I will steel myself up to do the dishes, I will heave myself int0 sweeping and vacuuming the floors, I will make myself clean the birdcages, and I will somehow manage to read my text messages even if they make me cry. And then I will pick up my husband, and we will go about our day. As if this is normal, this pain that circumvents all other emotions, this ache deep in my chest. Perfectly normal now, though almost a year ago I wasn't sure how I would survive this whole. And yet here I am, I don't know about whole, but here I am. And this pain is the new normal. And I can live with that, for now. But not forever.

Anyone else?

Anyone else find those damn Volkswagen commercials annoying? You know, the ones that go on about how people are having babies for the new Volkswagens, instead of for love?

I hate those commercials.

And they HAVE to throw in there that with the advance in fertility drugs it's easier and easier... excuse me? How dare you try to say infertility treatments are easy, or for everyone, or whatever. It just really peeves me that they would dare throw that shit in...

Sorry, ranting.

Here's the plan

Okay, I am taking the 150mg CD3-7... good.

Then on CD14 we are doing an ultrasound to see what's going on.

If things are good, trigger shot then and there. If not, I will trigger at a later date.

Originally we were just going to do the 150mg with progesterone monitoring. I was a little upset and said to the nurse..." So, we're not adding monitoring this time? Are we going to do it next time?" And she said, "Did you want it this time?" I've never had a doctor or nurse ask me what *I* wanted to do for a cycle, and meant it seriously. I was shocked, and jumped on the opportunity. I said I would like that, and she said, "That's fine. We can do that." Yay. Someone taking me seriously. So I have an appt. on the 20th for an ultrasound to check things out.

For the first time, in a long time, I have hope.
I'm starting to think that this might just be the month.

Bitter

I had an unwelcome visitor this morning. At least I knew it was coming.

Onto round 4 of Clomid. Not sure if we're doing monitoring or not yet. Waiting to hear back from the doctor's office.

I'm sooooo getting ice cream tonight.

Maybe it's the Clomid

Oh my. I know, woman say it all the time on the forums...

Clomid's emotional havoc doubles in the infamous two week wait. I didn't believe it. My doctors, the medications insert, the web, all said that the side effects were limited to when you are actually taking the Clomid.

So why am I crying at the drop of a hat? Maybe it's the Clomid.

The again, maybe it's not. Maybe it's the cold that I, yes, still have. I am on day 11 of it folks... at least it's now confined to JUST congestion. Thanks ye gods for that.

I don't know. But think I'm just going to go to bed now, while I'm not crying. Cause if I stay up, I am going to bawl. And besides, I am sooo sleepy. I worked the gravyard shift last night, ruined my sleep pattern, and am ready to clonk out again in a sad effort by my body to fix said sleeping pattern.

Toodles.

Good bye Met

I was told to stop the Metformin and get my liver retested in 4 weeks.

That sucks.

I think that it really made a difference in my response to Clomid, I really do. So, back to holding no hope for next cycle (Remember, I dare not hope for this one.)

We shall see.

I was tempted, and bought, tests last night. Why I wasted money on them, I can't say.

Maybe I'm delusional.

And the results are in

Progesterone results are in today, and the results are... okay. I ovulated! But it was only an 8, and they prefer a 10-15 on medicated cycles... so if I am not pregnant this cycle we are upping my dose to 150mg next cycle. We shall see. I am 8DPO today. I actually ovulated, another drum roll please, on CD16. Crazy. (Remember last time... I was on CD44. So CD16, wow. Super early!)

My liver function test came back too. It was a little elevated. That's not very good, right?

They should call me back today or tomorrow to let me know what the doctor wants to do about the whole liver thing. We may just do a repeat blood test to double check, or maybe we will do something else. I hope he doesn't take me off he Metformin though... I swear it's the only reason the Clomid made me ovulate this time...

I'll post again when I have more info.

For now, I will sit back and try to relax in the TWW, and think to myself... "This is different."

I mean, usually I am waiting around for ovulation.
I don't know what I am going to do with myself.
I'm not going to test early, that's for sure... okay, well I might.
But I am going to try not to. The odds of me concieving this cycle are slim. Our timing was waayyy off (Thanks stupid cold!)

October 15

Antigone in enlisting.

National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day

October 15th is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day in the United States. More than 25,000 children are stillborn in the United States every year leaving mothers, entire families and communities devastated. Estimates of the rate of occurrence of stillbirth make it at least as common as autism.

Stillbirth is not an intractable problem. Greater research would likely significantly reduce it's incidence, but good research requires good data. H.R. 5979: Stillbirth Awareness and Research Act is under consideration by Congress. This proposed bill would standardize stillbirth investigation and diagnosis, thus providing more data for the needed research. Better research means fewer children born still.

On October 15th, remember the thousands of unfinished children lost and the families who remain to grieve them. Honor them by taking action. Let's help pass H.R. 5979.

Action Steps:

Step 1. Use Your Blog to Enlist Others
-Copy the contents of this entire post and publish it on your blog immediately.

GOAL: Enlist 10 of your readers to spread the word

Step 2. Use Your E-mail to Enlist Others
-E-mail 5 bloggers and ask them (nicely and in an unspammy way) to publish these action steps on their blog. Consider contacting celebrity bloggers, political bloggers, medical bloggers, or bloggers who are not part of your reading community.

GOAL: Enlist 3 bloggers outside of your normal blog sphere to spread the word in other online communities.

Step 3. Help Pass the Stillbirth Awareness and Research Act
-By October 15th, publish a post on your blog supporting H.R. 5979 Stillbirth Awareness and Research Act. For maximum impact, title your post: "Stillbirth Awareness and Research Act."

GOAL: 1,000,000 Google results on October 15th when that term is searched for. Currently, Google only returns 20,400 pages - most of which have nothing to do with the bill.

Where's my blood?

The last two times I had blood work done have been disasters.

This last time, tonight, the tech couldn't get hardly any blood out. He sure bruised my arm though. The time before that, the lady stuck me three times, and got her supervisor to help her. They finally got some blood, but it was slow going. I swear, sometimes I wonder if they are really lab techs, or crazy inexperienced people posing as lab techs.

I got a progesterone draw done today, because I honestly can't tell if I have ovulated or not. My temps are higher than normal, but I am sick... so I don't trust them. I also got a liver function test done, you know, since I am on the Metformin. To be safe. Don't want no Lactic Acidosis, or whatever it's called.

If I did ovulate, which I doubt, I would be 6DPO right now.

I wonder if I did.

If I did, it would be my second time ovulating in the last, oh, it's been over 18 months. Oh yeah, a healthy woman would have ovulated about 18 times by now, compare that to my one and possibly second ovulation.

Hmmm. Of course though, some woman can have those 18 perfect cycles and not get pregnant, I had that one lucky ovulation back then, one in 18 months, and got pregnant from it. I know, I was lucky. I must have been to lucky, because it was to good to be true. I lost that baby.

Maybe, if I ovulate, I'll be lucky enough to get pregnant again. And the next one will stay with me... I know, it's a haughty order, I may be asking to much, but how I dream of it. How I long for it. I get so tired of fighting. This nightmare, it seems so never ending.

I need to go get some homework done now. Not that I want to. But, Beowulf (How I loathe you.) is calling, as is good old Geography (How I loathe you too.) Darn them.

Oh, the emotional havoc

I'm very touchy right now, for some reason. I keep crying so easily, but I keep fighting the tears because I'm sure my husband will think I'm crazy. Yeah, the stuff makes me sad... but even stuff not so sad is making me all weepy right now. I don't get it.

I'm still sick. I have such a crappy immune system. My husbands day cold has become my week cold. I hope it goes away soon so I can get an accurate reading from my basal body temperature. I just want to know if I've ovulated. I have tentative crosshairs for 5 days ago. See, my temperature went up slightly before I got sick. The day I came down with the cold is was up, the next two days I had a fever. I didn't have a fever last night or today, but my temperature was still up like the day I came down with this cold. So, I could be 5 days past ovulation, or maybe not. It could be this damn cold raising my temperature, fever or not. Of course, the cycle after my miscarriage I got a cold. I had a fever for three days, and only the days with fever were spiked. All other illness days were accurate. So... who knows. I wish I did. Hopefully I can confirm or deny it in a few days. If I did ovulate, I doubt I got pregnant. Our timing was off by a few days. But still... ovulating would be something.

In other news, my dear little brother is turning 13 tomorrow. Where did the time go? I was both my parents youngest child for 10 years, then one day I had a baby brother. I was so excited, I wanted one so badly. How I loved him, and over the years I've only grown to love that little punk more... (Damn, I'm crying again.) When my brother was born, I became the middle child to my father. I remain my mother's baby. When my brother turned 10, he became a big brother for the first time in his life too. I hope one day he is to his little sister all that I have been to him. I hope he learns something from my example.

What's so bittersweet about him growing up... is that he's a teenager now. In a few years, I can't help but wonder, is he going to stop wanting to spend the weekends at his big sister's house? Is he going to stop calling, visiting, being a part of my life... I hope not. You know, I was never this close to any of my other siblings. My sister is 10 years older than me, and lives on the other side of the US. I see her maybe once a year, if I'm lucky. She calls every now and then, but we don't really talk that much. My oldest brother, he lives an hour away, but we never visit each other. We never call. I see him twice a year. My other brother, well, we stopped talking after my miscarriage. I've never had this before. I wasn't even this close to my parents.

It's going to hurt like hell losing him.

I'm trying to make the best of now... that's all I can really do, right?
He's got to grow up someday.

Explanation

I was saying that my Ovaries have been put On Notice. They're on my shit list. They've been warned.

If they don't do anything by Monday I am kicking their butts and starting a new cycle.

(I kept saying they were on notice, and A. told me I could make a Colbert sign saying that. Someone made a program that allows you to put whatever you want in there instead of what Colbert really had. You can find it online. So, I did. I thought it was funny. I have a weird sense of humor though, sooo...)

And just so everyone knows, I am coming down with a cold. So if my posts seem crazy in the next few days... I'm blaming the cold medicine. I encourage you to talk me down if I start raving like a lunatic. :)

For now I will focus on my sole enjoyment this quarter of college, my 17th century British drama course (We're focusing on comedies! Yay!) I'm going to go plot my upcoming project (I have to show a comedic clip, and then explain why it's funny according to the "rules" of comedies. Isn't college wonderful?) So I am off to watch some Monty Python... in the name of knowledge.
Toodles.

On Notice

Response

In response to the comments from Shelby and G.

Nope, I tried to get him to do an ultrasound and he said no. He said he would next cycle, but to wait this one out. I was quite peeved. Especially with the ovarian discomfort (Him and my old doctor take this as a positive sign, while I wonder if I may have a cyst. Guess we'll never know.) He didn't mention doing blood work again, he is apparently satisfied with my blood work I had done with my ob/gyn. He does want me to get a liver function test though, because I'm on the Metformin.

I can't go to another RE, unless I see another one in the same clinic. I doubt their opinions vary much though, they're all in business together after all.

I'm still peeved. It really doesn't help that I feel achy, my lower left side is hurting... worse than two days ago. I also think my bowels are messed up right now, so they're making my lower abdomen hurt even more. I'm pissy about something involving school, oh and I start school again today. I'm a real sour puss today. Real bitchy. Can you tell?

I wish I could go back to bed.

Soooooooooo

I had my appointment.

I must say, I'm a little disappointed.

I'm waiting this cycle out, no monitoring. I was hoping for at least an ultrasound to see where we are at right now... but no.

Here's the plan.
If I respond, awesome. Keep the protocol the same.

If I don't? I'm supposed to call them, and next cycle will be different. We will do 150mg, ultrasound monitoring, and a trigger shot. So, I guess at least I can have hope for next cycle.

I still have no faith in this one. Oh, it's CD15 btw. So, in 6 days (CD21) I was told it's okay to call in and call it quits for this cycle if I haven't had a temp rise by then. So, even if I'm not getting monitored this cycle, at least I can quit it sooner if it's a failure, and I can move on.

So I guess that's the bright side of things.

Man, I still feel cheated though. $250 for a half hours conversation that basically consisted of, "Uh huh, Hmmm. I think we should keep at this, I have a good feeling about this cycle." (That being said without monitoring or blood work... we don't even know what's happening with me this cycle... are you kidding me?)

And then, "If it doesn't work, we can do this and this..." "And then, once we get you ovulating we can do these tests if you don't get pregnant..."

Oh, and get this, "You're the most fertile person I've seen in here today." (Really? Because I thought that by not ovulating I was pretty bad off, but apparently I am mistaken. Oh, apparently it's because I have the junk, I have the eggs, and I just don't have the right processing chip. Therefore, he's optimistic. He's very optimistic about the Clomid... again, are you serious? Cause, this is my third Clomid cycle... and I haven't Ov'ed yet...)

Thanks. Thanks a lot.

This is the only fertility clinic in the area, and it's an hour away. (Also, this goes without saying, these REs are the closest REs too.) The next closest one is 2 hours away.... So, I guess I'm going to trust the guy. He seems kinda crazy though.

I don't know. Maye it's just that I am pissy today, I was having a bad day to begin with...

What do you think?

Owwie

The lower left side of my abdomen (around the ovary) is hurting more today. It's like a cruel joke. Why is it I get ovary pains each cycle, and yet I do not ovulate? Not fair. Maybe I do have a cyst. I'll mention this ovarian discomfort to the RE today at my consult. So frustrating.

Get on with it

The infamous RE appointment is less than 24 hours away.

I'm nervous. I'm doubtful. I'm angry. I'm antsy.

Will he be able to help me? Will he turn me away?
Should I cancel my appointment if I (ha ha, yeah right) ovulate beforehand?

I don't know.
I'm so sick of not knowing what the future holds for me.
I know, I should get used to it.
Life is full of questions, not answers.

In other news, I think my left ovary is hurting again. Or something around there is. It seems awful early this time, it took weeks before it hurt last cycle. Hmmm. And no, it hurting means nothing. It hasn't the last few cycles (Unless I have a cyst that I don't know about, can we get another "Hmmmm?") The last two cycles I had some mild ovarian discomfort, awareness of their locale, but nothing ever came of it. Just a week's worth of discomfort.

Biting my tongue

I was just on a forum, and instead of replying to the woman's message there I chose to post my thoughts here.

She was talking about how unfair it is that woman who abandon their babies at hospitals, who throw them in the trash, etc. get to have babies and we trying to concieve sometimes can't. They were ranting a bit about how it upset them. Sure, sure. The green eyed beast comes out of us all from time to time... but it doesn't in me in these cases.

I do not condone what many of these woman do, but I understand that sometimes they can feel like there is no choice.

My case and point. My cousin's aunt, a super nice woman. I never knew she got pregnant at 15 and put her baby in the trash. Appalling, I know. But let me tell you why she did it before you condemn her. She was 15, and it was her father's baby. He'd been raping her since she was 8. She'd told her mother about it, but her mother never believed her. So, at 15 when she became pregnant with her baby who was also her brother, she didn't know what to do. She was home alone, she was scared, she delivered that baby on her own at home. Confused, scared, she put the baby in the trash.

This happened about 30 to 40 years ago. My mother was friends with her then, and never knew what was happening behind closed doors. My mother didn't know she was pregnant, until what happened hit the news. That woman still regrets making that decision to this day.

The child was found the same day, and eventually put up for adoption.

This is the side of some of those stories that the media choses not to cover. Instead some of these raped, abused, confused girls get bad mouthed by the media and the masses. I'm sure some of them deserve it, but there is an equal amount if not more who don't.

As I said, I don't condone it, but I understand why it can happen. I know, they have other options now, like now many places allow them to leave the baby at a hospital no questions asked. They didn't have that back then. She tried telling someone what was happening, but the one person who should have listened didn't. She felt like she had no options at all. What would you have done? Her parents, one called her a liar, the other was raping her... even if she told someone I'm sure her mother would have backed her father.

These types of things still happen today. Yes, and now they have more options. And I'm glad they do.

I'm not jealous of these girls for having babies, I don't hate them for abandoning them, I do however wonder what's going on in their lives for this to happen to them. It's a horrible tragedy all around, for the mother and the baby sometimes.

I don't know where or what I'm trying to say here. I guess it's something along the lines of "Don't assume." I've seen many posts like the one I was going to reply to, and it troubles me a bit I guess.

"Life is not black and white, it's varying shades of gray."
That's all I'm saying, I guess.

By Moonlight

I shed a few tears every night. Not full blown crying, I've been fighting it since that first month. I shed a tear or two, then I'm okay. But...

Last night I opened the flood gate.

And my husband walked in on me.

He didn't know about my nightly sadness. I always wait until I'm alone in the office/art room. I sit at my laptop, typing nothing, feeling incomplete, and I let go. But only a little bit. Not too many tears, one for my lost one. One for my lost fertility.

Last night I snapped, after he walked in on me shedding those two tears. I let go. I held him, and I cried. I released. I told him how sad I was. I told him how hopeless I felt. And he held me. It was nice. We don't have many moments like that.

We made a decision. RE it is. We're going to do this. I have an appointment for Tuesday afternoon.

We also made another decision. If we aren't pregnant by this time next year we are going to see about starting the adoption process. And that's that. We can still "try" after that, but we aren't going to do any more fertility treatments after that point.

Which really... I honestly love the idea of adopting. It feels right. Part of me wants to just move forward with that now, and say fuck it to the idea of doing more treatments. But I really want to have one of my own, to carry my own child. So, we're going to give it a fighting chance. We'll do a couple more rounds of fertility treatments.

But I am starting to think that it really won't be the end of the world if it doesn't work. Adoption is not just an option, it's a happy thought to me at this point. I don't know how to explain it. I feel like it might be the better path. Ah, it's so hard to explain. I've just been feeling this way about it lately, I've even been poking around adoption forums. I just.... I really like the idea of adopting.


Ah, there you have it. I have revealed to you my inner thoughts, and current situation.

and we might get to start looking at houses soon. Hopefully this is a sign of good things to come.

Plotting the course

I'm trying to figure out my next step of action. Yeah, I know. I just started this cycle and I am already surrendering to defeat... but I mean, seriously. I didn't respond to 100mg of Clomid last cycle, why would this one be different? Who are we kidding? I mean, yes I am on the Metformin, but I doubt that it's going to make me magically respond to a medicine I haven't responded to so far.

Of course I wonder if maybe I am half responding. I mean, I had achy ovaries for a week last time, and I had a P4 of 1.4 (higher end of the follicular phase levels) maybe I just didn't make enough LH to release the follicles.... Who knows. I'm not getting enough monitoring to find out. Maybe I should ask for an ultrasound this time, and see what's happening. He probably won't do it.

Maybe I should just save my money to see an RE. It might be best to do that. I am seriously debating to not get my P4 done this cycle and just use that money towards seeing an RE.

I just don't know what to do.

Should I call my ob/gyn and talk to them, or should I ditch them and go ahead and move on already? Where's that damn crystal ball when you need it?

Owww

I wish I had a picture of Rock 'em Sock 'em's going at it, I'd so post it right now.

As I have no Rock 'em Sock 'em's laying around, I'll leave it to you to visualize.


I had another long day at work. It is good to take my mind off my problems, but it is a whole other set of crap to worry about. Oh well, it's getting easier. I am actually starting to think I can do this.

Also, I finished the Clomid yesterday. I am taking a laid back approach to this cycle, since I have absolutely no faith in it. This means temping, but no timed intercourse. Oh yeah, I said it. I am saying fuck it. I don't care. It's not like my ovaries are going to wake up anyways. So no "every other day" shit. Not this time. I will when I wanna, that's it.

I just don't care at this point. I am saving money to see an RE.

Yesterday my little brother's mom had her twins.

I saw them today, I held one.

Her beautiful oops babies. Healthy weights, healthy appetites, healthy cries, healthy babies.

It didn't hurt as bad as I thought it might.

Then the inevitable question came, "When are you and A. going to have one?"

Awkward silence.

"We can't have children on our own."

"What do you mean you can't on your own?"

"We need medical help."

"Oh. How long have you known?"

"Since November."

"Oh, you should have told me, hun."

I told her about my fertility treatments, and my loss.

She was always so kind to me as a child, and we've maintained a sort of a relationship since my brother stays the night at my house all the time. But I wondered tonight... why hadn't I told her? I told everyone else... maybe because I found out she was pregnant after my m/c. It was a blow to the gut, and I was worried about my pain so I avoided her. But I should have told her. Really, I should have. Then she would have understood a little bit why I didn't always come to the door, why I was so distant, why I never mentioned her pregnancy even when her belly was so huge she could barely get up.

In other news, I started my training today.

I'm a little intimidated. I'm worried about messing up, this is a "big girl" job after all, it's not like making coffee. I'm trying to save lives now. I have to help them when they want help, help them get out of abusive situations. It's kinda scary.

I hope I don't mess up.

Thoughts

I'm feeling especially bloggy today.

I've been thinking a lot about my Sebastian lately. I wonder if it's because of the seasons changing, if it's because the months have been flying me by.

I had a fortune cookie today, it told me "An interesting medical opportunity is in your new future."

I wonder what that means. And I find it odd that it says your new future. What a weird wording, don't you think?

When I lost Sebastian I immersed myself in physical labor. I worked on the trim, the floor boards, sanding, painting, anything I could. I listened to lots of music at this time, but one song stood out to me. It was a song by the Dixie Chicks. "Let him fly." I don't know why, but it has become a special song to me, it is his song. It is now forever linked with my baby, and I listen to it from time to time, and I reflect. I listened to it last night, and looked over what I have left of my pregnancy. Photos of the fateful digital pregnancy test, my notes, memories of happiness, memories of sadness.

I would be 24 weeks pregnant this Sunday, on my husband's 23 birthday.

And I'm not. I'm empty, and lonely.

Here's the lyrics from that song, in memory of my baby.

"Aint no talkin to this man
Aint no pretty other side
Aint no way to understand the stupid words of pride
It would take an acrobat and I already tried all that
Im gonna let him fly -mmm

Things can move at such a pace
The second hand just waved goodbye
You know the light has left his face
But you cant recall just where or why
So there was really nothing to it
I just went and cut right through it
I said Im gonna let him fly
Oh yeah

Theres no mercy in a live wire
No rest at all in freedom
Choices we are givin
Its no choice at all
The proof is in the fire
You touch before it moves away - yeah
But you must always know
How long to stay and when to go

And there aint no talkin to this man
Hes been trying to tell me so
It took a while to understand
The beauty of just letting go
Cause it would take an acrobat n
I already tried all that

Im gonna let him fly - fly whoa
Im gonna let him fly - fly
Im gonna let him fly - fly"

My, oh my

Well, today's day one of my new round of Clomid. I am cycle day 2. I have absolutely no faith in this cycle. So... there you have it. But we shall see...

I also go in tomorrow to fill out paperwork for my new job.

None of these people know about my history, myself, nothing. I wonder how long I can keep it that way. I'm sure eventually I will let it slip out that I can't have kids, because I am very open about that. But then people say stupid things and I get mad.

I remember telling a co-worker about my infertility diagnosis last year. She proceeded to tell me that it isn't so bad. She said I wasn't missing out on anything, that pregnancy is horrible, and that kids are a handful. Seriously, she made a point to go on and on about how lucky I was. This was when I was nice and kept my mouth shut. I'm not so nice anymore, I'm getting pretty jaded, and I am letting bad things spill forth from my mouth at an alarming rate.

In other news, Bleh.

Tomorrow is a new day.

Employed

I finally got a call back about that job. I have been offered a position, and I accepted it. I go in Thursday to fill out paperwork.

And in other news... I am on cycle day 1 today!

Woohoo, thank god for Provera.

I am thinking about taking the Clomid from days 2-6 this time, because I did 3-7 the last two times... and I think a change up would be nice. We'll see. I don't know yet.

I sometimes feel guilty, selfish, for my husband staying with me through this. I feel selfish for ruining his dreams with my infertility. I'm broken, he's not. I felt that way again tonight. "He deserves better than me," I reason in my mind. "He shouldn't have to give up on his dreams too." I haven't felt this way since my diagnosis.

But who's giving up? Not him. When I want to give up, he lends me his strength and optimism. All I give him is a dirty house, my league of animals, my genetically inherited depression, and my medical bills. I really don't see why he stays, but he does. He tells me, "It's okay. We keep trying." And I cry and sob out, "It's never going to work." He replies, "It will, and if it doesn't, we adopt. It's going to be okay."

Sometimes I fantasize about just getting in the car and driving away. Driving far away from all these obligations, these failed dreams, lost hopes, away from myself. I dream about leaving and going somewhere to live a long lonely life where I won't ruin anyone else's life ever again. I will be alone, and whole, and I will cry, but be happy. I fantasize that he will be sad, but then move on. He'll find some fertile woman, have those two darling girls that he had wanted, that we had wanted together. I fantasize that I will be happy for him, from far away, where my sadness can't reach him anymore. And then I snap my eyes up, and awake from the fantasy.

Even when we were both just dating I remember talking to him about what we wanted in the future. A family of our own, that was each of our answers. We both wanted 2 children, hopefully girls, and we wanted to be happy and complete in this. Everything we've ever done has been for that one day family. I went to college, he quit college and got a good paying IT job. We've been working towards owning a home, getting ahead. All of this was for our future children, everything. And then it all came crashing down in November.

My dream, crashing down. And his too.

I know I am not being selfish, this is a partnership after all.
At our wedding the ceremony was a Cherokee Blanket ceremony, and in the ceremony it said we were agreeing to no longer walk this earth as two separate souls, but as one. Bound in the eyes of the Great Spirit.

When we found out I was infertile I begged and pleaded with him for weeks to leave me. He wouldn't. He said he loved me, he needed me. I didn't want to hear that, I didn't want to ruin his future to. It's not fair of me to ask him to stay, and so I don't. I'm glad he stayed, but I still feel guilty. And sometimes I am not so glad he stayed, because I think he's be better off without me. It's very weighty, knowing that someone else other than you might have to give up their dreams because of you. It's not fair, and sometimes I feel like because of it I am carrying around this major burden. It's my job to make both of our dreams come true. It's up to me. It's my fault if we don't, my fault if he regrets it.

It really is a heavy burden sometimes I think. Or maybe it only is because of how I am looking at it. My perspective has often enough been a little skewed.

Is this losing hope, or gaining perspective?

I'm on Provera, and losing hope on the Clomid working.

I have given up on staying at home and focusing on school.

I should be 23 weeks pregnant, and I'm not even a little pregnant.

I have an interview tomorrow for a job at the Woman's Domestic Shelter.

I finally caved in, the medical bills are adding up, the treatments aren't working, my husband's job isn't covering everything anymore. It was either stop trying for now, or get a job. So I decided to get a job. I think I kept putting it off on the long hope that maybe I would get pregnant miraculously again, I would ovulate, Clomid would be my wonder drug.

Not so, at least not yet.

So I am trying to get a job, trying to work a little, for the future. Will I get the job? Will they work around my rigid college schedule? (The price of going to a major Universities regional campus is that certain classes are only offered certain quarters and certain times. As a senior I have to take what I can when it comes up, if I want to graduate sooner than later. Otherwise I may miss a course and have to wait another year to take it. I can not afford to do that, as my student loans are getting outrageous.)

I'm feeling like I am being herded in a tight corner, struggling to spring back only to find the lid had been closed when I blinked.

I'm sure it doesn't help that every month I get closer and closer to my EDD.
January third, how I loathe you.
And closer to my birthday, January 30th, how I abhor you.
I should have been turning 24 with a baby in my arms... now I can only hope I will at least ovulate by then.

Stupid ovaries.
Stupid college.
Stupid cost of reproducing.

I have obviously missed the boat on having my "Oops" baby... so where's my "FINALLY" baby?

I'm feeling very sad this week, I think it's the reflection of the failed cycle, the reminder of my pregnancy, and the fact that I'm just angry and disillusioned.

I know that many woman try longer, and I am not downplaying that. I actually wonder every day how they do it. I can't handle that, I know I can't. This past year and a half has been hell on me. I know what my limits are for the most part, and I accept then. I'm just worried that my not responding to the meds that I may come upon my limits faster than I expected. If I don't respond to the Clomid by 150mg I am moving to an RE, and probably injectables of some sort soon after. I don't know if I can do that, but I want to try. I know I will try no further than maybe 2-3 cycles maximum. My limit is coming so fast, I'm worried it will be here before I know it. I'm kinda scared. If those fail to make me ovulate, then that's it. I'm done, on to adoption. Which I am fine with, but it has it's own long haul and strenuous emotions, plus financial issues.
It's a whole other sort of emotional chaos I suppose, and whole other sort of personal invasion. And a whole new set of rules I'd have to learn.

I'm just shocked that so soon I am coming to the end of something, by next year I will either have responded to the Clomid or be moving on to Injects I suppose. It seems so sudden. How quickly have I come here.

We're giving the Clomid 100mg another try since I am on the Metformin now.
If it doesn't work again, we'll up it to 150mg.
That's as high as my ob/gyn is willing to go, so after that it's off to an RE.

Am I losing hope, or gaining perspective?
I chose to think I am hopscotching on the balance beam of life.
I'm either falling off on one side of the beam, or another.
In the end I suppose it really doesn't matter. Either side of the beam is really just a different view of the same thing.

btw: if you're wondering about the trees and smoke... My DH (A) and I took my little brother camping this summer, I was sitting there by the fire and this tree caught my eye. I don't know what is was about it, but I had to take pictures of this tree. Something about the way it twines within itself... I don't know. I liked it.

The darker side

Just feeling the hopelessness that goes with another failed cycle.

No response.

My P4 on CD20 was 1.4, so nothing by then. Nothing now.

I'm on cycle day 33 now, my BBT shows nothing. Nada.

I want to hold on to some hope that maybe my BBT didn't work this cycle, maybe I did ovulate and just can't see it. That maybe, just maybe, I am wrong.

Yeah, right. BBT worked for me before, doubt that it just stopped working. I'm giving it until Saturday, if nothing by then... I am starting the Provera again. I can't take much more of this cycle.

I always feel so empty, so hopeless, at the end of a useless cycle. I mean, if I at least ovulated, and just didn't get pregnant, I could live with that a little better. But this not even responding shit is getting old fast.

_______________________

And I'm now officially looking for a part time job. Not that I want one, especially with the quarter about to start back up at the good 'ole university, but I think I need to. Oh, what joy.

_______________________

By the way, the photo is from a lunar eclipse we had in February. I went out and stood in the snow, in my pajamas, to snap it with my zoom lens and tripod. It failed to capture the true beauty of the eclipse, but, meh.

Show and Tell

I'm getting an early jump on Show and Tell today (Check this blog out if you want to know more about Show and Tell) I figure if I don't get on it now I will not get around to it at all... I've been absent minded lately.

Here I am, camera-faced, reflected in a murky pond. Sometimes my mind feels like this reflection. As if I am displaced, in an alternate world. This can't be real, I can't be going through this shit. I have always felt like I was through the looking glass, looking in. This could never have been my life.

I went to my favorite place this week, I took a good friend of mine. I dream about taking my someday children here too. This place, it's magickal. It makes me believe in the world again. When I have writer's block, I go here. Never mind that when I do go here all I want to write about it magick and Pan. It invigorates me nonetheless.

The man that used to own these 47 acres left his entire estate to the city he lived in, when he passed away. Beautiful expansive garden, mansion, courtyard, ponds, forests. Free for everyone to enjoy. And now I want to share it with you, and share with you my looking glass self.

I go here to clear my head, from time to time. It is so peaceful, so heavenly. It is my happy place. I have many bad places, places I don't want to go to, but this place holds only joy for me. I go here with friends, I take my little brother. My old best friend used to take me here sometimes. It will always hold a special place in my heart.

I wish I had more places like this. I've seen so much ugliness in my life, and not hardly enough good. I look around me sometimes and I find that I am truly that girl in the looking glass. I live in a world where everything is topsy turvy, down is the new up. In my looking glass world you don't have a normal life. Instead of loving parents, you get a mentally ill, apathetic, mother and a physically disabled, and abusive, father. You are both the youngest child, and the middle child. You never settle into a normal life because you move every few months, and the longest you live anywhere is 3 years. You grow up years before everyone you know. You start paying bills before you're out of school. You find your true love at 18, then years later find out you can't have that dream family you both were waiting for. That dream family you swore one day would be yours. That love you missed out on growing up, that love you swore to give to your someday children, instead goes to your cats. And you feel broken, all the time.

I am Alice, except she was able to leave that twisted wonderland.
I've spent years trying to figure out how to cross this great distorted divide.
I keep wandering around, trying to figure out how normal people get by.
I have become strong because of all of my hardships. I don't doubt that, but what I wouldn't give to just once walk that uneven path. Just once to not have to cut down an entire jungle to find my way in this life.