Really? Wouldn't that be nice.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
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.)
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
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.
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.
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