Monday, March 30, 2009

$170 later...

So, my appointment was mostly useless. Ha ha ha. What did I expect, right?

I've already been tested for clotting factors for the most part, so he only suggested testing two more things. Soooo....

1) My husband and I are having our chr.omos.omes scrutinized. How exciting. Results take like 2-6 weeks. So, waiting waiting waiting. At least insurance is going to cover that... a little.

2) Since I don't normally Ov on my own, we have the Prom.etrium on hand, and I was told to start taking it in... 3 weeks. That seems like a long time, but oh well. I can wait. Once that is underway, and the cycle begins, we do Clomid and schedule my lovely HSG. That's right, I'm finally going to get that stupid thing done (*sigh*) Not that I really want to.

So, while I was going to just let the chips fall where they may this cycle... I am thinking maybe we should go ahead and take preventative measures. That way I can get the HSG over with, and wait until I'm on Clomid to try again (And then I'll know I have a decent Ov, or at least that's the hope.) So annoying.

So, relaxing on the TTC front until mid April I guess... or trying to at least.

What on earth am I going to do with myself until then?

*eta: I will post pictures of the dresses later :)

Sunday, March 29, 2009

No Privacy

I decided to go on a mini shopping spree today. I hadn't bought new, I mean brand new from a real store, clothes in awhile. Sure, I'd bought stuff at thrift stores, but I had not bought anything brand spanking new off the rack in awhile. So, I treated myself to a few dresses. Dresses are nice, feminine, sometimes flattering... I bought three, and a skirt.

The total was outrageous, but I justify this because I need to start looking my age... I guess. I'm twenty four now, I should probably start dressing like an adult. I mean, the teenage stuff is comfy, but it's not exactly screaming, "I'm mature, I'm responsible, take me seriously!"

And dresses aren't exactly going to scream,"I'm getting on in my years." I don't want to look like my mother yet, that's all I'm saying. They are about right for my age, I think. And they're really cute dresses. At least I think they are, at the moment.

And of course, I had to go to a specialty store for us bigger woman. Main stream America does not accommodate the plus size woman well. I want cute stylish clothes too, damn it. I don't want to dress twenty years older than I am, and I don't think my husband wants me to either. It always infuriates me when I go to regular stores shopping. I mean, all the cute clothes are only made up to a size 14 (If you're lucky.) I haven't fit a 14 since middle school. Even at my ideal BMI I was a size 16, you know, because I have those wide (non) child-bearing hips. I have curves, even when I'm skinny I am not a petite thing.

Of course, the dresses were smoking, I was on a high. I found many cute things that fit. I was happy. Until... you know where this is going. The next stall over, in the dressing room. I hear happy laughs, questions about clothes being able to expand. You know, because she's carrying her third. They're so excited, her and her friend.

Instant kill of my buzz. Thanks ladies.

I do not begrudge you your happiness, but damn.
It's moments like this that I feel like the universe is a damn bully. As if this big bully gets off on kicking you while you're down.

I, in my dejected state, went to a book store next. I ended up picking up two books about adoption... which where mixed in with the pregnancy and parenting books, of course.

Thanks universe.
Thanks a lot.

I think that's enough for one day, don't you?

Friday, March 27, 2009

As the fortune cookie said

Fortune cookies have odd ways of speaking to you.

Remember New Year's? Sure it did get better, but then it got a whole lot worse.

The other day I got one that told me, "No one can walk backwards into the future."
It was a nice reminder. Very true.

Of course, I was telling my mother how I collect fortune cookie fortunes. I always mean to incorporate them into a piece of art, but never do. Well, she points out two fortunes on the ground. I decide to not pick them up, but my husband makes a mad dash for one. He brings it over to me, and he says, "I think this was meant for you."

It says, "Some people never have anything except ideas. Go do it."
Also very true... always ideas, and never fullfilment. Yet I never give up.

Of course, isn't that the goal of the fortune? Make it work for any potential reader? Make it apply universally to as many people as possible? Oh well. I still like them.

In other news...

I talked to my primary care physician about my diet. He was concerned about my vitamins. A couple bloodtests later, I find out that my Vitamin D is low. Shouldn't have came as much of a surprise I guess... PCOSers, like me, tend to have lower Vitamin D levels. Not to mention the whole vegetarian/lactose intolerant/never goes out in sunlight thing... Darn. I thought my prenatal had it covered. Of course, a Vitamin D defieciency is bad for fertility... so let's just throw that up on my craptastic chalkboard.

Repeat loss consult coming up Monday. I wonder what Dr. BlowsSunshine will say... Probably something annoying optimistic even given the crappy purpose of the entire appointment. I have a feeling I'm going to pay $300 for this (not including the cost of the blood tests), and still get no answers. Hmmmmmmmm.

The husband and I are considering giving seafood a try. Just to see if it helps. If it doesn't, then we can just switch back to not eating any meat ever. I don't know if I can do it though... I really don't. The mere thought of it repulses me. Not to mention, vegetarians who start eating meat typically get sick from it, because their bodies aren't used to digesting it. If we do, it will be all sorts of unpleasant. My husband thinks it will be okay, his exact words, "I might throw up the first time, but eventually it would be okay." Yeah. I am still completely indecisive. In his mind, it's a done deal. In my mind, not only am I flip flopping, my stomach is churning in accordance.

Spoiler alert,

For Show and Tell this Sunday I am going to share photos from my hiking expedition.
Stay tuned for more ramblings; coming to you soon, like, in the near future.

Thursday, March 26, 2009


Well, we made it back alive.
Sore from all the hiking, but alive.

Overall it was a rather enjoyable trip. The cabin was nice, the hot tub even nicer... the beds could have been softer, but I'm not going to nitpick.

The scenery was lovely in the area. While it did rain quite a bit, well... we're not the type to let a little rain ruin things for us. Sometimes rain is quite refreshing, not to mention the rain makes the vegetation come alive. All the greens grow more vibrant. Life flourishes. Too bad it means limited lighting which leads to poor quality photos. But still... I'll take it.

Now, I think I should catch up on a few Zz's I missed out on. It was a long, early, drive home.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Final wave goodbye

Well, this is the official goodbye. I'll be busy the rest of the night, as well as tomorrow morning, getting ready to leave.

Hopefully there will be no hitches in the plan, and I will be back with a post Thursday night, or Friday evening.

Until then... take care.

Starting to question

I never thought I would, I've been a vegetarian for six years now... but here I am, questioning it.

Not the beliefs behind it, or my dislike for the taste of meat, but rather how it may be affecting my body... or rather my fertility.

I feel that I am enabling my PCOS. I eat more carbs than I should be, in order to compensate for my protein deficiency. I eat an excess amount of soy products sometimes in order to compensate for my protein deficiency as well. While the verdict is out on how soy affects fertility, if at all, do I really want to risk it? Also, I barely get enough protein some days... and on other days, I don't get enough at all. What could a protein deficiency be doing to me? Also, I am very deficient in my fat intake. Odd, I know. But I never, ever, get enough daily fat consumption. That can't be good, right?

Since I have been a vegetarian I have gained at least 80 pounds.
I was losing and maintaining a decent weight when I ate a diet consisting of primarily vegtables with very little white meat. I also got periods every few months... and as my vegetarian diet continued and the weight started piling on, I stopped having periods all together.

As much as I abhor the idea of eating meat again... I have begun to really consider it.
I do not have the ability to create an edible vegetarian diet with all the nutrients that I need. Yes, I have lived this far... but how has it been affecting me? Is it making things worse?

I don't know what to think or do. I am going to talk to both my doctors about it, but I doubt I will get any real insight. Vegetarians get pregnant and carry just fine all the time... I know this. But I worry, especially in conjunction with my PCOS, about it's affects on me specifically.

I don't know if this makes any sense...
I don't want to question my beliefs... and I feel like I'm grasping at straws here.
But, I really can not help but wonder.
Even my wonderful fellow vegetarian husband has begun questioning our current diet with me.
He does not want to change it either, but feels that if it would help, that we should go for it.

I guess I'll just see what the doctor says, and keep soul searching.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Working on it

In case you were wondering... I did rent the cabin. For Tuesday and Wednesday night. So, I should be MIA.

Now my concern is getting lost, car breaking down, etc... It's a long drive.

Now, my car was in worse shape when I drove three hours to an amusement park up north... and back then I had no safety precautions in place (Like enough extra money to fix the car in case we broke down, triple A, etc... We would have been stranded.) This was when we were newly weds, ha ha. Those were the days. Reckless and irresponsible.

Nope. Now I am completely terrified. I get lost easily. Now, I'll have a map, directions from multiple courses... you think I would calm down. Ha ha. Not me. And the car breaking down... since that fateful trip years and years ago, I have replaced many parts in my car (Even the engine!) so I should be calmer. So much is brand new in the car... but I am still terrified.

And my husband will no doubt be driving... and he is a lousy driver. I love him, but he really and truly is a horrible driver. I may have to force him to let me drive... for my sanity.

I'm just freaking out a little bit. So many things can go wrong, and I shouldn't think about them... but of course I am and will. Darn it.

Well, I need to get some sleep. I work the long shift tomorrow... work.

I haven't been there in weeks (I only work two days a week anyway...) It's amazing how easy it was to just jump right back in today. Of course, my coworkers don't know why I was gone. My boss does, but they don't. All they know is that I "had a medical emergency." So, of course they ask, "Are you feeling any better?" Ummm..... Don't want to go into it, so I just shy away and say tersely, "Sure." End of discussion. I guess it's not a huge lie. Physically I am much better.

Half truths... I've never been a fan of half truths and white lies. I'm more of a "brutal honesty is the best policy" kind of girl. It stings a little to use half truths and white lies... but I don't want to think of how painful it could be right now, to tell the truth to them. I don't want to imagine their stupid comments, their false pity, their mockery of my child I lost. If these were people I cared about, that cared about me, then I could answer honestly. Or if I needed to put them in their place... like that one time with that rude plembotomist... As it is, I'd rather keep my mouth shut. But, by not admitting the truth, I have the issue of my eyes welling up, against my will, as I say, "Sure."

By admitting my damage, I could lose control. Whether through the sadness or anger at inane comments. But denying it stings immensely too. I can't win.

By next week they'll stop asking. So I suppose I won't have to worry about it much longer.

Friday, March 20, 2009


Beta results, 5. Close enough to be negative. That feels like it was exceptionally quick... compared to the rest of the miscarriage.

I had a mini breakdown last night... I think it was a combination of the beta draw, my grief, and my depression. Oh, and my migraine. My pounding, splitting, nausea inducing migraine.

It hit me like a ton of bricks last night... I feel like my whole life, I just keep failing. Things keep falling through. They don't work out the way I want them to. Fail, fail, fail.

The only thing I have going for me is my husband. And that's scary. It really is. Having only one bright spot in your life, so fragile. So easily lost. What then? What's left, other than starting all over? I wouldn't even know where to begin. Right now, he's my supporting pillar. He's holding me up right now, more than anything else.

I hope my trip doesn't fall through. I need something, no matter how small, to just work out. That's all I'm asking. Just one little thing, let one thing go the way I planned it to. Let me have some hope back, a little faith in this world.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009


It was a long day. I ran around all day completing neccessary errands... and I have officially blown our entire tax refund. Go me. Of course, most of the things I spent the money on were quite neccessary. So I suppose that's okay... some of it was needed but not really really neccessary (Like the cabin rental.)

I can't believe how quickly the mind acts to restore mental capacities when you've been threw something traumatic. All the details really do seem to slip through the cracks, the memories fade and tarnish, and life goes on.

Physically, I am much much better. I don't even really need over-the-counter pain meds right now, so that's good.

Life really does go on, leaving only subtle traces of what we've lost.
To small for others to notice... but we see them. Something missing, something invisible from the naked eye. Like subtle little chunks of me have died. Each breath I can feel the drag of those missing pieces, being pulled so tenderly, yet I remain standing. I keep living. Riddled with holes and uncertainty, I stand. Even though it would be so much more natural to fall down.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

It's becoming clearer

I am officially out of, just over the counter pain killers for me now. My mind is starting to clear up from the na.rcot.ic induced fog. I'm starting to think more clearly. And I'm not entirely sure if that is good or bad.

Day six after the miscarriage, still bleeding heavily of course. The price to pay for my super plush lining that should have been nourishing my little embryo. The cramping has lessened, I think... I hope. So, that is very good. Maybe it's almost over. Physically at least.

Emotionally... I cry at times, but I am still pretty numb. I didn't realize how jaded I have become, I wonder if I'll ever feel right again. I'm not even asking for normal (What is normal anyway?) No, I just want to feel human. I just want to feel like everything is going to be alright.

In my mind, I know that someday it will be... but I can't seem to reconcile my heart to that belief. At least not right now. Maybe someday, but not today.

And I'm starting to think that the cabin place I had my heart set on doesn't want my buisness. They aren't answering their phones, and I've emailed them and everything. You can reserve it online, but I am not reserving anything if I can't talk to a real person. Screw that.

I guess I'll have to start looking for a different cabin place. I had my heart set on that one, I like the look of their cabins more than the others... but I guess I can lower my expectations. I've gotten pretty used to doing that.

Monday, March 16, 2009

I need a vacation

I've been through a lot of crap in the past two years.

After one year of trying to have a baby, I got pregnant.
I miscarried.
I started Clomid, six rounds (= eight months) later... I got pregnant.
I miscarried again.

This last miscarriage wraps up my second year of trying to have a baby. So, I decided my dearest husband and I could use a little getaway. After all, what better way to blow a portion of our tax refund?

Well, then a fellow blogger unknowingly reminded me of something my husband and I were wanting to do and never did... we had thought about it before the diagnosis, and then put it off. We put a lot of things off while battling infertility...

Well, I am on a trying to conceive break. What better time for a romantic getaway?
I think it will be nice to escape reality for a few days, just him and me. No people, no cable, no internets (I'll miss you all!), no animals (I'll miss them so very much!) It will be just the two of us. I even got my mother to agree to come over and house-sit while I'm away. I didn't think she would do it, but somehow she agreed! I won't have to worry about my house being robbed, or burned down, or something happening to my doggies, kitties, ferrets, or birds while I'm away. She's going to watch all the animals, I'm so thrilled! It will be such a relief not to have to worry about all that. I might be able to just relax and enjoy my husband's company (Of course, I'll be worried about her snooping around our crap... annoying as that will be, I'll take it.)

So, we're going for it. We'll be renting a cabin for two nights and just escaping.
It should be really really nice.

We'll be leaving sometime next week probably.
I really hope the cabin I want is available for the days I want. We're going to call tomorrow to book it. I guess I should get the car ready to handle the trip. It's a two hour drive... it shouldn't be too bad. But, I want to make sure the car is in top running condition before we go.

The more I thought about this, the more I really felt we needed it. We just really need a break from the pain, the horror of infertility. It will be nice to spend a few days revisitng simpler times. We both need to recharge I think... I can't wait.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Well, that didn't take long.

It didn't take long before the asinine comments started to roll in from people I know in real life. You know, I went through hell the other night. I have been talking about how much pain I'm in, and how disenchanted I am with the whole pregnancy business. And I know people are just trying to be helpful, I know, that's why I haven't ripped any faces off yet... but if I hear a single more story about how they know "so and so," and "so and so" went on after 2, 5, 8, enter expletive amount, of miscarriages, and they have a living breathing child... etc... How so and so adopted, and then a few years later out popped a baby from her infertile womb. Telling me that I am doing so well, that if I just hang in there it will happen... That I should not "give up."

All those people, they are the exception. They are not the fucking rule. One, if I get pregnant again there is a good chance it will be another miscarriage unless we can find a cause that can be treated. Two, if I stop trying biologically, and I adopt, chances are that I will not just magically fall pregnant and have a completely uneventful pregnancy. I will still be infertile and at high risk for miscarriage. I may somehow find myself pregnant down the road, but that does not mean baby.

And even if I have a baby, that will not heal what is broken inside my heart. It will not make me whole. My life was changed the moment my doctor told me that I may not be able to have children. My marriage changed the moment my husband refused to leave my non-child bearing ass, and he said to me, "If I can't have children with you, I don't want to have children with anybody. I love you."

I know that many of you ladies on here hold hope, and some of you are the exception. That's fine, I am thrilled that there are exceptions. And you, you've been here too. I rather enjoy hearing your stories... that does make me feel good. It keeps my eyes open. But I also know many, many, of you are the rule, just like me.

But these people in real life, they haven't been here. Most of them are referring to their mothers, cousins, friends, or a totally fictional woman. To them I say, take those exceptions and keep them away from me. Millions of woman every day live by the rule, I know more infertile people than anyone I know in real life. I know very well what the rule is and how it affects our lives. The exceptions, while I am happy for them, have never been me.

And if one more person tells me that if I adopt I may end up pregnant, so help me god I will tell them to shove their heads further up their own asses. If I adopt I will not be trying to have a biological child for many years. Not actively. I will never prevent anything from happening, but unless my body decides to work at a random interval, which happens (And is the exception, not the rule.) Then so be it. But I am not going to push my luck. If I get an adopted child, I can be content until the urge to have more children resurfaces.

Then I will either try biologically again, or adopt again. Adoption will not magically cure me from either my infertility, or my desire to expand my family.

In closing, I am the rule and not the exception.
If I get lucky I would love to be the exception... but I would not hold my breath on that happening.

I am emotional, hormonally imbalanced, and living on narcotics at the moment. Maybe I am being irrational... but I don't want sunshine blown up my ass right now. I don't want people who know nothing of my pain trying to soothe my wounds that they themselves have never known. I don't want them to say, "So sorry, don't give up. It will happen." I just want an, "I'm sorry for your loss." Period, zip. Peace, shalom.

I guess it's just the way they say these things, trying to soothe a pain they can't begin to imagine. They don't know what it's like to see what was supposed to be your baby, floating in the toilet. The feel of contractions for hours on end. Don't give up... like "giving up" or trying again is something easy to do. Like it's really that simple. Like you're just supposed to forget the contractions, just forget the hours of min-labor...

Of course, isn't that how the body works? Aren't we supposed to forget all of it anyway?

Thanks for the love and fond thoughts.

I am off to take more vic.o.din now, the contractions are still kicking ever so slightly. Plus, my entire body feels dead. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, of course... sleep. Should stay away from that. I took a nap, and the nightmares were vivid and horrifying.

My husband has been taking generous care of me again today. He even made my lunch... he didn't do a very good job, but I'm not going to tell him that. It's the thought that counts. He has been doing all the grocery shopping for the past few weeks too, so that's good.

I've been really bloggy lately... I think I just need to get it out somewhere... and this is the safest place.

Ouch, ouch, ouch

Well, I sure am glad I was able to get out of work this weekend... again.

I woke up promptly at 8am, why? The wore off, of course. I think I need to get them refilled. I know the contractions are mostly over, but now comes the painful occasional spasming and bruised feeling. Like your uterus has been punched from the inside out, pummeled raw. That's my best way of describing it, I think it's rather effective.

Another day. I didn't cry much yesterday. I think it's because I spent so many hours crying and going through hell yesterday night that I was too exhausted. I wonder if it is going to come today...

Okay... so maybe there's still some contracting going on. Ouch, ouch, ouch...

BTW: Anyone else notice it's Friday the 13th again? We just had a Friday the 13th last month. How odd!

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Drug laced memories

I don't know if it's because I have been on the maximum dose of since last night, or just that the pain was so severe, but... my mind is already moving on. It feels distorted, like it was all some bad dream.

That wasn't me flinging myself around the bathroom crying out, that wasn't me in the shower screaming, that wasn't me pushing the sac, which was once my baby, out in the throws of contractions. That was someone else. Those seven hours aren't mine.

I wonder if the disconnect is because of the drugs, or if it's because of my minds own self preserving defense mechanism kicking in. Endorphins from the pain coupled with narcotics. Lack of sleep. Drifting in and out of consciousness. Who knows. It scares the shit out of me though. The pain was so vivid, it wasn't so long ago. The agony that will haunt my eyes forever behind closed lids, now sits muted like some bad dream.

It's a frightening thing. My mind should not so easily push pain like that to the side, it shouldn't try to forget. Because, the part of me that knows it happened is still scared shitless at the mere thought of getting pregnant again. In my mind, Pregnancy = Sadness and Severe Agonizing Pain. It sure as hell doesn't equal a baby as far as I am concerned. What is does equal is suffering, inhuman writhing pain. However, part of me would like to forget that. That's the part of me that says, "I can and will move on, I can handle going through that again... if I get a baby eventually it will be worth it."

This side is now in conflict with the rational side that is saying, "Are you crazy bitch? Don't you remember what you just went through? Ain't no fucking way, no how! You aren't getting a baby out of this, you're nuts. All you're getting is pain, and for what? There is no pot of gold at the end of this rainbow. There's a pot alright, a pot of leprechaun shit. That's what." Okay, so maybe it's not my "rational" side, more like my cynical side. It just sounds more reasonable than my hopeful side at the moment. It's not ignoring all the pain I was in, the pain I'm still in, all the facts, to try and hold on to a dream that's hurting me so deep inside.

I want to try again, but right now... I am scared. I may take more time off trying to concieve than I had originally planned. Of course, as the pain delves further and further into untouchable memory... I wonder if I'll forget about why I made that resolution. I suppose the only way I'll know is when I stand at the cliffs again, when there's only two choices. When I can either jump in a sudden leap of faith and keep trying, or I can keep standing at that cliff edge... looking down and wondering if I should jump or not.

I suppose I have plenty of time to think about it. I have a month or two. More if I chose it.
But it's really bothering me that my memory is already trying to cover up what happened.


I managed to drift out of consciousness at 7am, when the contracting lessened briefly. However, the vicodin wore off at 8am, so I woke up when the contracting got more painful. Took more pain pills, got another hour of sleep. My husband got me breakfast, and ended up being late for work because of it. Oh well. I thought I should eat something. I've had lots of narcotics and no food in my stomach... mostly because I thought I was going to throw up because I was in so much pain... but still, the concept remains unchanged. Still feel like I'm going to throw up, and it's a pain.

Speaking of pain... yeah, you guessed it. I'm still in pain. It's not quite as bad. Rather than screaming, now I am just moaning and emitting high pitched whining sounds every now and then.

Which reminds me... My poor kitties were so concerned about me last night, they kept checking in on me while I contorted on the bathroom floor (I was trying to find a less painful position... didn't really work.) The fact that I didn't even acknowledge their presence did not deter them. Some of them still kept trying to nuzzle me, while some just stayed a safe distance away and watched and meowed every now and then. Most of them just did not know what to make of me, but they were concerned.

I can take more vi.c.odin in an hour. Maybe I'll get some more sleep when I do.

I called and scheduled my repeat loss consultation... it's going to be on the thirtieth. Seems so far away, but that's okay.

I am officially on a trying to conceive break, length of stay unknown.

Make it stop

My last six hours have been hell. I just want it to stop, why can't it just stop. Oh god, it hurts so bad. The vi.c.odin isn't helping, and I'm in so much pain I can't sleep. I tried screaming, and it helped at first. It helped a bit for a couple of hours actually... it isn't helping anymore.

I passed the sac when it started. It was bigger than I was imagining it would be. I thought about getting it out of the toilet so I could bury it in the back yard, but I decided against it. I regret that now. I wish I had got it out. Oh, I'm never going to forgive myself for that.

I know that if I didn't use the and miscarried naturally I would be in just as much pain, or almost as much pain... so I don't regret that. But it does have me rethinking how strong I am. I don't think I can do this again. Oh god, it hurts. I'm in so much pain I think I am going to be sick. I don't think I have it in me to do this again, I really don't.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009


I am freaking out terrified to take the c.yto.tec. Absolutely terrified. But I want this to be over...

Ungh. It's not fucking fair.

Okay, okay. I am going to take my soon. And then... the cyt.o.tec...
I feel like screaming.

(un) well...

Okay, so the little temporary placenta on the gestational sac finally detached. The sac has moved down towards the cervix... and... nothing. Still at a standstill, but that is some progress I suppose.

He prescribed me some to help speed things along... and as scary as it is, I think I will take it tonight if nothing happens before then. I have my vicodin on hand, and will take two before the c.yo.tec... hopefully it will knock me out before the contractions start up.

On the way to my appointment we got about half way out, so half an hour away from home, and we got a flat. My husband had difficulty changing the tire to the spare tire, and I got panicky. But, he got it changed, and we were on our way. Good thing I made him leave early, we made it to the appointment on time despite that.

I cried off and on the entire way home.
My mind went something like this, "What are we going to do? What options are left? How can we afford adoption? Can I handle foster to adopt if we need to do that? Can I be comfortable with never having a baby? Maybe, I don't know. My baby, my baby is dead. Another one, gone. What should I call it? It's dead. I am a baby killer. How will the in laws take it if we adopt... mother in law would be fine, but everyone else... How would we even begin that conversation? January... we can begin the adoption talks in January. I'll be 25 in January... 25, and I started trying to have a baby when I was 21. Sounds like a good time to jump train. January is a little more than 9 months away. 9 months. Is that significant? Why can't I keep a baby alive? Why can't I have that? Everyone else around me in real life has it, why not me? Gone. Another baby, gone. I... no name. Angel, no... Angela. I'll call her Angela. Angela and Sebastian. My lost ones."

I had to go to four different pharmacies trying to get the cyo.te.c. The first one, out of stock. The second, out of stock. The third tried to tell me I would have to buy all the pills because they couldn't open the bottle to just give me the 4 I needed (Seriously? Where they even looking at the right pills?) The fourth pharmacy was a godsend. I got my pills, no issues, no big production, waited a mere 5 minutes, and was on my way.

I got my *RE to agree to retest me for Antiphospholipid Antibodies... I figured why not. My sister only tests positive while she was pregnant, it was only active then. So, I'm still kinda pregnant (As far as my body is concerned.) So I thought I should retest before I miscarry, in case. I'm grasping at straws, I know. But, better safe than sorry. It can't hurt.

After I start to miscarry, I schedule my repeat loss consultation.
And a week from now they want to retest my HCG, make sure it's going down.

And now, I need a nap.
It's been a long day.

* RE= Dr. BlowsSunshine, as in "blows sunshine up patient's ass." I really should tell you about my RE sometime. I think you get the idea from his nickname though.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009


My body thinks it's a trickster. It wanted to mess with me. Some abdominal pain off and on all day... but nothing else.

I am sick of this. My bre.asts hurt horribly, I mean horribly. They're so sore and full feeling. And I am so nauseous. It's constant too, it doesn't subside. It does however get worse at times... I keep expecting to throw up any minute. It's a cruel joke. It's like my body said, "Let's give her all the symptoms of being pregnant, even though it isn't viable!" Thanks body. How generous of you.

No fever... that's good. I've had a loss of appetite for the last few days though. Not by choice.
Actually, I eat and get full so I stop eating. Then I feel really hungry again not even an hour later.

My body likes messing with me.

My appointment is nice and early in the morning.
I'll be back later to update.

The beginning

I think it may be the beginning of the end now. I've been having abdominal pain all night, and it seems to be getting slightly more pronounced as the day drags on.

I finally let myself cry today. Now I'm afraid I won't be able to stop.

You know, I feel like I'm always saying goodbye.
I've barely even said "Hello," before I have to let them go.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Barren Bitches Book Brigade

It's that time again.

This time we read "Never Let Me Go," by Kazuo Ishiguro. I must say, this book really hit me hard. I suppose I will get to that later on though.

Oh, and if you have not read the book... stop now. The questions may give away some hard hitting stuff in the book. And this is one book you do not want to have ruined for you. Go into reading it like new fallen snow, pure and innocent. No reading about the plot, no reading this post, don't skip ahead, and no preconceived notions.

The Q and A session is just below, but I wanted to remind you that, once you're done here, you should hop along to another stop on this blog tour by visiting the main list at Stirrup Queens ( You can also sign up for the next book on this online book club: The Red Tent by Anita Diamant.

Okay then, formalities aside, let the think tank begin.

3) One thing that struck me while reading the book is that the characters seem very passive. Although certain knowledge is withheld from them along the way, and they do have questions, they do not really rebel or protest their fate, or try to escape. They seem quite accepting of the future that has been laid out for them. Why do you think this is so?

This is the thing that really ate me throughout the book. Why didn't they fight harder to be free, why didn't they ever try running away, why didn't they scream. And then, at the end, as sad as it was, I realized why.

I knew the feeling. Learned helplessness. When you're raised in an environment being told that it is the only way you can live, you eventually accept it. You don't look for a way to escape, you don't look outside the walls, you settle yourself to a lifetime of whatever it is. But I also know that if you're strong you can fight it.

I grew up in a bad home. We were poor, my family was uneducated, most of them drug addicts, highschool dropouts, pregnant in their teens, and I was raised being told that life sucks and that this is all I can ever hope for. I set myself against it very young. I decided I did not want that life. I decided I would live my life different. I got married young, I did not get pregnant in highschool (I avoided any relationship like the plague, I was too scared of getting pregnant to even date. Oh, the irony.) I am the first one in my family to get a college degree, and three years ago I finally went from lower class to middle class. Of course, then I decided I wanted the whole cake instead of just a piece of it... and then the baby never came. But I have yet to give up on that. I am going to have the family and the life I always wanted.

And so you can see my bafflement at their resignation. I know that if you want something bad enough you can break the siren call of learned helplessness. You don't have to resign yourself to live the life others have set before you. But they did. I know, some of them tried to fight it. But once they were told that there was no way, they gave up. Why didn't they run? People couldn't tell that they were clones without being told so, could they? I can't wrap my brain around it.

And then I wondered if maybe it is because they didn't want to escape it. But if that was the case... why? I can't understand.

I am interested to see what other people thought about this question, because as you can see... I'm lost in thought.

5) At the end of Never Let Me Go, they mentioned “designer babies” had turned people against the whole clone issue. Now, ABC news featured a story tonight (3/3/09) about parents being able to build their baby (a bit of reality reflecting art). How does this make you feel? Do you think PGD should only be used to avoid health issues and genetic defects? Is it ok to use it to have a baby who can save your current child’s life through marrow transplant? Is it ok to pick hair type and eye color?

Those news stories upset me quite a bit. I am against using it to pick what a child looks like cosmetically, and am on the fence about them using it to prevent defects. I am against it for cosmetic reasons because first of all, it just seems wrong to me. It's like you're saying you can't love a child that doesn't have that hair color you want them to have, or that they need to have that eye color or else they're wrong. It would send a horrible message to the child, they would be under the impression that if they hadn't looked the way they did mommy and daddy wouldn't love them. At least, that's the way I see it.

I can completely understand using it to prevent a defect and serious health issues, however I don't think I would do that. I suppose that it should be left to each individual, like anything else in our reproductive business it should be a joint decision between us and our doctors. Part of me thinks that by doing this it sends the message again that the parents wouldn't love those children if they were born that way, or that the with these children with defects and genetic issues are are less than other people. For example, if someone had a child with cancer. If they could go back in time and not have them, and instead have a genetically selected child... would they? The embyo's aren't those children, they aren't those people. I get that. I do. The embryos are not the same as living children that you are attached to... But... I don't know.

Let me explain where I am coming from here... My little brother has a sister who is mentally handicapped, and that's just the way she was meant to be. She is beautiful and loving, and I can't imagine her any other way. Who she is, is who she is. She is my age, with the mind of a three year old, she's oversized, out of proportion, and she is perfect the way she is. And in my mind I have trouble picturing a world where someone would chose not to create her.

As I said, it should be up to the individual. But, I don't think I would ever do it.

6) If you knew with certainty that you had a child with a shortened life expectancy, would you raise the child any differently? For example, are there certain experiences you'd want to ensure that they had? Are there things that you wouldn't bother to make them do (flossing? eat healthy foods? go to school?) since they wouldn't have the same long-term impact as they would for other children? Would it make a difference in your parenting if you knew exactly at what age the child was expected to die as opposed to a general sense of foreshortened lifespan?

I think it would to an extent. I wouldn't sweat the little things as much. I probably wouldn't push the flossing, that's for sure. I am sure I would try to give them the best life I could in what short time they had. But I wouldn't alter it so much that they didn't do things like other children. I would have them go to school, build friendships, enjoy everyday as best they could. I would want them to feel normal, but at the same time I would want them to live each and every day to the fullest.

Of course, isn't that the irnoy. You can have a healthy happy child, and lose them the next day in an accident or to an illness you never saw coming. So really, each day should be lived to the fullest whether you know your child is dying or not. We all die, the only question is when, and that is the question we don't always know.

Okay, don't forget to go visit other blogs on the tour.

Q&A and some decisions

After my last post, Antigone asked, "Is there a part of you that hopes it will have continued to grow?"

I thought about this. And, I have to admit... yes. A small unconscious part of me wishes, and hopes, for this. Of course.

But, the majority of me, the over rational side, knows that the likelihood of that happening is smaller than the chance of me winning the lottery (And I don't play the lottery.)

Yet I can't let that little sliver of me go, I can't shut it off. I think maybe that is a part of the reason I can't cry yet. It's not over. It's not 100% definite until I start miscarrying. My doctor said it was coming, he said he felt comfortable calling this another miscarriage, he said it would happen soon... but I'm still waiting. So, that part of me stays alive. Like a fool.

I've even begun thinking about calling someone for a second opinion on what is going on. Even if it's just to see if the sac is getting smaller, beginning to break down. Sneaky like, just for confirmation from another party.

I've thought about calling my RE and asking to come in again. I don't want to wait another weekend for my body to do it's job. As much as I don't want a d&c (Or d&e, I'm not actually sure which he suggested. I had distanced myself from that ultrasound room when he told me it was another miscarriage.) As much as I don't want to, I want this to be over. He wanted me to wait two weeks, and if I haven't miscarried yet, to call in and we would check everything out again. And then, we would schedule another appointment. It's almost been one week... and I am going nuts here. I don't want to wait another weekend.

I just don't know what to do right now. What to think. So, I think about everything. I do nothing.

The husband and I were talking last night. We've had to come to some hard decisions, but we have made them. We plan on trying again with Clomid, in a few months. We will do the repeat loss testing. Then, if by next January we are no closer to having a child, we are going to call our counties children's services to talk about adoption. I know that if we go this route we may not be able to have an actual baby, but we want to be parents so that's okay. You don't have to have a baby to be a parent. A child is a child, you love them just the same. We have awhile to think about it, and to come to terms with it if that's what we need to do. So, we will keep thinking about it, but we have made a game plan of sorts.

We just really needed to make a rough outline for the next year. We needed to have something to look forward to. I know that somehow we will be parents, even if the road I take is not the most conventional.

I just hope that we get the support we need should we take that road.
When I mention adoption, people keep telling me to keep trying, the next pregnancy won't be another miscarriage, it will happen, to not give up,... But seriously? If there is a next pregnancy, it could just as easily end in another miscarriage. My body is pretty craptastic after all. And you know what, adopting isn't giving up. I don't see it like that. It's choosing a different route to the same destination. What's wrong with that?

Would I like a biological child? Yes, of course. I would love that.
But is that neccessary for my survival? No. I just want to be a parent.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

A new kind of limbo

I'm barely even spotting. I'm not cramping. I don't seem to be doing anything.

Except missing class, because if I start miscarrying I don't see myself being able to walk across campus to my car, and then drive home (While on v.ico.din no less... since you know that the first time I feel a cramp, I am popping one of those in my mouth. And v.ic.odin makes me sleepy sleepy.)

Missing work, since I work alone on my shifts. And would be hard pressed to get anyone to come in and cover for me at the shelter if I started miscarrying... and I don't think a drugged up hotline worker would be very efficient. I wouldn't be able to focus on a crisis call if I started cramping. And what if I started hemorrhaging or something... I would have to wait forever for someone to get in and take over so I could go to the hospital.

And yet... nothing is happening here. I just keep waiting, and waiting, for something to happen. I just want it to start so I can get it over with already.

I truly want to avoid taking any pills to help it along, and I definitely don't want a d&c if I can help it. But... this is taking forever.

And because my HCG is still high I still have my lovely symptoms, and my damn breasts hurt like hell. Ungh. Not fair. I think my progesterone may be going down though, I am finding it easier to go to the bathroom... so that is something I suppose.

Ungh. I just really want this to be over. I can't concentrate, can't go anywhere because of my fear of starting to miscarry away from home, I can't even fully grieve because it is not over yet... even though it is as good as done. It doesn't have that finality yet, that closure.

I might call my doctor on Monday or Tuesday. I just need this to be over, or to get checked again to make sure the miscarriage has progressed some. I mean, the sac had grown a little since the first ultasound, just not enough to be viable (and it was still empty)... so, now I'm wondering if it's a blighted ovum or something. Or if this is going to be dragged out, since it wasn't shrinking. The lining was trying to break down... but I'm still not bleeding! Ahhhhh.

I am just tired of it all. So tired of it being dragged out, stringing me along.
I think I will call them Monday and ask their opinion... if nothing happens before then.
Because... I can't take much more of this.

I know, it's only been 4 days since the ultrasound, right? But before that ultrasound, I waited a week to hear from the doctor that it was not viable. So really I've been waiting for more like two weeks to start miscarrying.

And I need it to be over. I need it to end so I can have closure.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Georgia HB 169

I felt the urge to spread the word about Georgia's bill 169, about it's ignorance and unethical nature. It is really getting me riled up. And you should be riled up to. Spread the word.

Resolve's explanation of the bill is as follows: (I bolded some key parts.)
"SB 169 would limit the number of embryos transferred during an IVF cycle, and ban the fertilization of any eggs in excess of the number allowed to be transferred. Even if more eggs are produced, they could not be fertilized and cryopreserved for future attempts at pregnancy. In patients under 40, physicians would be allowed to fertilize and transfer only two embryos, and in women over age 40, no more than three embryos. These limits do not meet ASRM guidelines on the number of embryos to transfer, and would affect patients access to care in Georgia. SB 169 would also eliminate any compensation for donor gametes, such as donor egg and donor sperm, severely limiting the number of available donors."

Did you just throw up a little in your mouth? I felt like it when I read this the first time. The second time I read it I just got angry. Incred.ible H.ulk angry.

I have not done IVF, nor do I have plans to, nor do I live in Georgia. So, why does this bill concern me? Because it should concern everyone.

If Georgia does pass this, I believe it would be unethical. The state should have no place to step in on a woman's reproductive rights like this. People who know nothing about the hardships of infertility should not be making our decisions. It's not their bodies, nor their lives. In my opinion this bill is stemming purely from irrational media hype and propaganda.

Perhaps there should be guidelines for IVF, but should not those guidelines fall upon the medical association and each individual practice? Individual doctors may make mistakes, like o.ctop.let mom's doctor, but that individual doctor should be held accountable, not Infertility and IVF itself! Or how about raising education about infertility instead of imposing laws on an issue and science that lawmakers know nothing of? They are not the ones that will be affected, what gives them the right?

I don't live in Georgia, and many of you may not.. so you may (or may not) be asking why should this matter to you? Because if Georgia passes this then other states may follow suite. The public at large may start imposing their laws interferring with your reproductive rights. Not only that, but what's next? Where will it end? Laws about how many follicles you may trigger with IUI? Maybe they'll start telling you that you can't be unwed to pursue this... Some clinics already do this, but imagine if a law said you couldn't! You would have nowhere to go. Laws to prevent people who are too young, who already have "to many" children...

People who do not walk in your shoes should not be making these decisions for you.
Wait, scratch that... People who are not you should not be making these decisions for you.

Maybe I'm going off the deepend, but I can't help but imagine what can happen if they open that floodgate. It scares me. I think it should scare everyone.

If you'd like to read some other woman's opinions about this, I strongly urge you to read these blog posts. Visit:
Mel at Stirrup Queens
Murgdan at Conceive This!

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

No Perfect Endings

"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity." -- Gilda Radnerr

I know this, I've learned it so well in the past few years. Yet, I still wish the story had a clear linear path. I know they don't, I write stories after all. My life is a book that I have yet to write, it's in my mind as a jumbled mess. All interlinked so that there is no starting point, not my birth, not the moment I realized who I was, not the present nor the future. Each breath I take is not a middle part, nor is it the ending. The story goes on with those breaths. Each day is a blank page.

Despite this, I always wanted that perfect ending. I wanted something to wrap up all the pain, all the struggle. I wanted the fight to be worth it. Maybe it will be someday.

That day is not today.

We can't always have perfect beginnings. We can't all have prefect endings. But what we all have is brief, intermittent, perfect moments. I had a series of those moments a week ago. I had that joy, I held it in my heart for two weeks. It was almost perfect, it was almost a saving grace. Almost, but not quite. Does it count? From where I stand right now, it does not, nor has it ever. I know that in time I can look back and it will count, it will be a blessing I smile back on. But not today.

Maybe that's why it doesn't hurt so bad right now. I've weathered this storm before. I know that there is no point in fighting it, the end is here. I know that I will survive this. I know that there is comfort beyond the horizon. I will not sink into the swamp of sadness this time.

Maybe it's because I am still waiting to miscarry, maybe it's because I had all week to resign myself to the idea of it ending. Maybe it hasn't hit me yet... I don't know. I do know I am not falling apart like last time. I do know that I will pull through.

I am going through hell right now, but I will not stop here. I can not make hell my home again. I will keep going. Yes, it hurts, but I will keep walking, I will keep putting one foot in front of the other until I get to where I'm going.

Winston Churchill once said, "Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts." I will sum up the courage somewhere within me. I will continue on. It took revisiting hell for me to finally realize this, it took me letting this pregnancy go, acknowledging that it is over, to finally know that I can try again. I will try again. I may not cross the same bridges I once thought I would, I may not be willing to continue fertility treatments to the extent I once thought I would... but I will become a mother somehow, someday.

And for that, it's worth going through hell.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Almost, but not quite

No miracle.

It grew a little, but barely so. Still empty. Still blood in there, but now there's a lot more. I was told to go home and wait to miscarry, my RE said that by the looks of things he thinks that it should happen soon.

I'll be going in for repeat loss testing after this miscarriage is underway.

The embedded video is a song, "Almost" by Tracy Chapman... it really echoes how I feel right now.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Contingency plans

I haven't even got an answer yet, but I am already trying to figure out what I am going to do if things fail again this time. What is there left for me to do? What if I just keep miscarrying? Everything looked so perfect this time, everything was as it should have been.

What if Clomid doesn't work again? I don't have infertility coverage in my insurance policy, I only have coverage for diagnosis... and once one diagnosis is found (my PCOS and anovulation) I get nothing else covered. They won't even cover an HSG now. Injectables and anything more expensive will no longer be options. I can't justify paying $2,000-$4,000 out of pocket if the end result is indelibly the same. I just can't see myself spending that much just to have another miscarriage.

My only option left if Clomid fails again would be adoption. Can I handle adoption? I love the idea of adoption, but it scares the crap out of me. Not adopting and raising a child that is not mine biologically, I'm fine with that, but the process itself terrifies me. Having to jump through all the hoops and over all those hurdles; being judged as a person whether or not I am worthy of being called Mother? Am I strong enough for that?

I know, this pregnancy may still be viable... but I have to think about what I am going to do if it's not. I have to.

I'm still spotting brown, and a little red. No major cramping, but more uterine discomfort. Still stuck in limbo. I don't know where I fit in right now. Am I pregnant, miscarrying, battling infertility... I haven't been on my regular forums as much because I don't fit in anywhere.

I am completely helpless. Left alone to my thoughts.
I. don't. know. what. to. do.

I feel like a failure. As a woman. As a wife. As a human being.
I can't concieve. I'm starting to think I can't carry to term either.

And I just don't know what to do anymore.
I mean, it took 13 months the first time.
8 months this time.
And still... I wait.
April will be 2 years of trying to conceive... what do I have to show for it?
I've been pregnant twice now,
and still... I wait.

Tuesday I have my u/s... I doubt it will have any good news.
My hope is starting to wither up as the spotting turns dark red instead of just brown.
I keep waiting for the cramps to start, the pain, the dilation of my cervix...
and I wait.
and I wait.
and. I. wait.
Tuesday will be here soon enough I suppose.
It's getting closer all the time.
But, the question remains. Am I going to start miscarrying before then, is the u/s going to show nothing at all, or is it going to show a miracle?