Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Things I won't miss about fertility treatments-

I've been thinking a lot about all the things I'm not going to miss about fertility treatments. I guess you could say this is me putting a positive spin on ending treatments. Because we will be ending treatments, maybe not right this moment- but sometime next year we are getting off this train. I'm not counting on a miraculous viable pregnancy here, I'm thinking more of quitting treatments to move on to adoption. Is the first option still possible? Sure, almost anything is possible. But I have chosen to focus more on the hopes of adoption at this point, because really it seems more possible to me than a viable pregnancy. Viable pregnancy... ppfft. Those happen to other people.

But either way, our journey will be ending. It's still hard to wrap my head around that sometimes. We won't be going through this three ring circus much longer, we won't have to shell out that hard cash and fight every single day for something that so many get effortlessly. Weird.

So, as I research adoption, and get myself more and more worked up about it (I am getting really really excited about starting adoption... too bad we aren't going to be able to start for another year or two or three... ungh), I'm preparing myself to let go of what we've known for the last few years of our life. Infertility really does become a lifestyle, and I know it will never go away completely, but some things will. And that's what this list is all about!

I will not miss driving an hour to shell out hard earned money to my doctor.

I will not miss driving that distance, paying that money, and still getting bad news.

I won't miss bawling my eyes out on the way home because of said news.

I will not miss having all sorts of weird things shoved up my lady parts- like pills, ultrasound wands, catheters, endoscopic equipment, etc...

On that note, I won't miss having so many people having a front seat to my lady parts. I really can't tell you how many people have seen them, especially after my laproscopy/hysteroscopy. I felt very violated after that one; I know a whole team of nurses, a few doctors, all got a nice panoramic view of me. While I was unconscious. I have photos of my internal reproductive organs... which is kind of cool, but kind of sad. I mean, normal women wouldn't have a clue what they're ovaries look like. I could show you (as a matter of fact, I did haha).

I won't miss all the ultrasounds. I've had more than Mi.chel.le For serious. I only wish mine were for such happy results... but no, other women get to have all that for themselves.

I won't miss having to take this pill, then this pill, then that pill, while taking these pills, orally, vaginally, injections sub-cutaneously, intramuscularly, now this person giving me a shot, or giving myself a shot, and another, and another, and another.

I will not miss having scheduled make-outs with the husband. I won't miss it, no matter how romantic it is to turn to the husband and say, "Soooo... are you ready?"

I will not miss scheduling my life around appointments, planning my job based on what's convenient for appointments, missing opportunities because I have to take an injection or a pill, or have intercourse, or an IUI, or so on and so on.

I won't miss hauling all these meds with me- like when I was doing injections and had to shoot up at work, and one time even in the parking lot in front of a Star.Bucks while waiting in line at the dentist's. Or how full my purse it right now, because I never know if I'm going to be home or not when I need to take X,Y, or Z.

I won't miss having to explain what medication I'm on, and why I'm on it.

I won't miss worrying about not getting pregnant.

I won't miss worrying about getting pregnant... and the possibility of yet another miscarriage.

I won't miss feeling like it's never going to happen. With adoption, I'm pretty optimistic that I will be a mother. Trying to conceive? Not so much.

There are a lot of things I won't miss about fertility treatments. This isn't everything, but it's what I've got off the top of my head anyway. It's been a long three and a half years. Two and a half of them have been with fertility treatments. I'm just so done with this crap.

I dread the end, it hurts, but at the same time there's this huge feeling of relief in knowing that there's an end in sight. I feel so torn sometimes, I really did want to experience a viable pregnancy... but I'm left with these bad memories of my three, and I know that even a viable pregnancy wouldn't alleviate those. But it would be nice to know what it's like just the same.

I'm excited about adoption, yes. But I do mourn what I've lost and will be losing. Part of me wants to keep doing treatments. Part of me knows I can't keep doing this- it's too much for me, it's been so long, and I've been through so much, and I know my odds, and it feels masochistic for me to keep going through this. We all have our limits. But for now, I keep doing them. And I look forward to ending them, even though the thought still hurts.

I can't put it into words, what it's like at this junction in my life. I want to keep doing treatments, yes. I still want that chance, that opportunity. And I want to know we did everything we could. But I honestly am not counting on it working. Like, I really have written it off, even as hope creeps in each cycle... it's a hope that I can't convince myself to believe in. I think getting negative test after negative test these last few months is what really made me start feeling like it isn't going to happen at all. It's like, I can't even get pregnant now. And here I was, so worried about another miscarriage.

But at the same time, I want to let it all go. I want to move on. Adoption has given me hope again, and that hope is what is keeping me going. We're making plans towards this end, we're working out goals for the next year; I've even dared to allow myself to start dreaming again. I can see a child's room, I can make plans to have children's things in our house, because it's going to happen. Someday. I think the thing that makes me sad about this though, is knowing how much longer it's going to be. How much longer we're going to have to wait. I try not to focus on that though, and instead focus on the little steps ahead.

It's a really weird place to be in. Not knowing when exactly you're going to be moving forward, or how, or what exactly is going to happen. Doing treatments, while actively working towards an alternate plan.

The end goal is still the same though, and that's what's really keeping me going.

Thursday, September 23, 2010


I want to thank all of you who commented on my previous post- you're my voice of reason. I am not expecting much from this cycle, but I am just going to chill and see what happens. I start my progesterone supplements tonight.

We went to see the new nephew tonight too. Conversation was pretty awkward, but otherwise the visit went okay. I haven't held a baby in years. It was weird feeling that weight in my arms, feeling that warmth. A- had actually never held a baby before today- we've had nieces and nephews since we got married, but he's never held a baby. They intimidate him, I think, since he has no experience with them. It was hard seeing him sitting there holding the baby, and knowing that he should have held our own children a long time ago.

We didn't stay long, and I'm glad it's over with. Lots of things processing and running through my mind... I'm going to wait for them to process a little more, before I post about them.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Well, that could have went better-

So, yeah. We don't have male factor infertility. Counts after sperm wash have always been around 30-80 million. Yeah... not this time. After wash? Only 8 million. Doc said she would have expected these numbers with male factor, but not to be alarmed just yet as these things sometimes fluctuate and it's hard telling why, blah blah blah. That being said, she was very glad we added the IUI this time... gives us a fighting chance.

If the numbers continue to be low when we do IUI again, she will recommend more testing. However, given our history of stellar counts she isn't too concerned just yet.

Still... it was a hard blow. Completely unexpected. I don't foresee a positive outcome in the next two weeks. I do foresee the 27 (which I have nicknamed "The Beast") turning into a giant cyst, when all is said and done... but, we'll see.

This cycle has been a giant crap shoot.

So lame.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Just a quick update-

So I posted earlier already, but here's a quick update...

There was a giant 27mm follicle on lefty. Yeah, for serious. Thinking it was probably the 9.5 from last time, and it kept growing after all (the extra Femara probably helped). Not sure if that's good or bad, I've never had one that big before... ever. We always trigger well before then, around 18-20mm. My doctor kept telling me it was fine, and probably getting ready to ovulate on it's own anyway. So we triggered. But I'm still not sure if that's good or bad...

We tentatively scheduled an IUI for tomorrow, but I may change my mind. I'm very sleep deprived and loopy, and probably shouldn't be making major decisions right now... I don't know. I left it up to my husband (proof that I am not awake at all, haha) and he says we're adding the IUI... so yeah.

That's the plan for the moment.
Although I really just don't know about that follicle... it seems so big.

Sitting tight-

I go back in this morning for a repeat follicle check... not holding much hope at this point. I actually started expecting good news (I know, what was I thinking?) but we went right back to where we were before. It was hard. I spent a few months responding like a "normal" fertility patient might. I was actually making eggs. It was amazing. But then, it's like my body remembered who we were dealing with and it thought it'd put me in it's place.

And that's why I try not to get my hopes up. Ever. I totally set myself up for that one.

It really was hard, responding so well and then... not. My body is an evil bitch sometimes. It really is. I think what's worse, is that I was actually treating it right this month. I cut down the caffeine and soda, watched my caloric intake... I think I even lost 5 pounds (if my scale is to be trusted).

Speaking of my body- I have proof that I'm allergic to cleaning. Every time I do heavy cleaning, I break out with a mad rash all over my hands. I've switched cleaning supplies a lot, so it's nothing I'm currently using... I think I'm just allergic to cleaning. For serious.

The week went rather slowly, and I am super anxious for the morning. Too bad it's like eight hours until my appointment, and I'm stuck at work until then. Hopefully time will pass quickly... but not because of drama or anything like that. Oh sweet word, please save me from the drama!

I'll probably update later today, or tomorrow... when I get a chance. I'm not going to get home until around noon, and I'll probably be loopy as hell by then... and pass out as soon as I find my bed... if I can make it up the stairs. Oh the joys of the graveyard shift and infertility.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010


Thank you for all the kind comments I get on here. You are all amazing, and I truly value your support. I wish I had the words to express how much you all mean to me, but I can't find any adequate enough for the level of my love for you- people I have never met, and may never meet in real life, who have touched my life profoundly. I know I don't say it enough, but thank you.

With the dream I had the other day, I chose to reopen communications with my sister again. I had been in contact with her superficially since the incident- which I won't go back into and rehash... I am just hoping she can respect my beliefs and we don't have another showdown about this. I am still very much hurt by the things she said that day. In a nutshell, I'm the one that decided to close communications officially in March, until she could respect my beliefs the way I had respected hers my entire life. I was tired of one sided conversations that always ended the same way- in an argument.

But the truth is, our lines of communications had been down way before all that last incident. Years before. Since before she lost the baby. Our relationship started going South when she moved away, and then stayed far away. And I understand her moving away, I understand her staying away, with a childhood like we had who wouldn't... but it changed things for us. It didn't help that there's a 10 year age difference between us either.

But the loss of her baby, my niece, started a bigger rift than any of us expected. It wasn't because she was upset that we said all the wrong things, or because we didn't say anything at all, I think a lot of it just had to do with grief itself. Things deteriorated and we could only do so much. And by the time we realized what had happened... who am I kidding, most of the time, we still pretend that nothing happened.

But I reopened the lines of communication yesterday. I sent her a more in depth email than usual, and she called me today. It's a start. It was shaky, but it's a start.

We have a complicated relationship, with a complicated past- and I'm sure our future will be too. It's just a matter of figuring out where we stand and continuing to work on our differences and accepting each other.

My oldest brother's sister (we'll just call her my step-sister, even though she technically isn't... my family is complicated... maybe I'll tell you about it sometime? Ha, that would be a novel!) Anyway my step-sister had her first official meeting with the adoption agency today. So excited for her! They've tried 5 years and went through IVF, and now here they go! I hope their journey isn't much longer- she's going to make a great mother. I'm going to email her and grill her about it, especially since she's going through the agency we're looking at.

My husband's birthday was nice yesterday. It was quiet, calm, and I took the night off work. Oh my gosh, I needed it. So much drama in the shelter. I only work two days a week, but sometimes that's enough to drive me insane. The good thing about working there though is that most of the time I can just leave work at work, once I'm out the door I forget about it. Here lately it's been really hard to though, and that's what's been bothering me. So much drama, and I am just getting burnt out. Small wonder... I've been there 2 years this month.

Oh, but I got sidetracked... my husband's birthday! We spent a nice quiet night in, and I made him lasagna... mmm, lasagna. My diet has been crashed because of all the cake, but I am back on the bandwagon. Birthdays are always kind of hard, this one was harder than I anticipated. My husband was 21 when we started trying to conceive... he just turned 25. (*sigh*) It was a lovely night, really. Quiet, calm, relaxing... and while I enjoyed it, I also kept thinking in the back of my mind... how much more awesome would this be if our children were here with us?

Because, you know, grief and infertility can't ever just leave you alone. Nope.

Have we went to visit the new nephew yet? No.
We probably will next week.

On one hand I don't want the weekend to get here, because I have to work Sunday night/Monday morning. But on the other hand, I am anxious for my appointment on Monday. Well, it will get here when it gets here... I'm going to try and just relax until then.

Oh, I caved in and decided to chart my basal body temperature until my appointment. Yeah, I am so weak when it comes to willpower!

Tuesday, September 14, 2010


When I woke up earlier, I was dreaming. It was the subject matter that was unexpected.

I dreamed we were somewhere after my niece had been stillborn. I was obviously younger, and yet I don't think I was as young as I was then. It was her, my mother, myself, and my niece. Although I never saw her, just as in real life all I've ever seen is her photograph and her urn. But we knew, she was there, in the other room. She was not alive, but her memory and her grief were. Her love was.

The apartment started like a regular apartment, with doorways leading to other rooms, and the central room we were in. My niece was in one of those other rooms. And so at some point in the dream things started changing, as often happens with grief. The doorways turned from doors to being cemented shut, communications shut down. One by one the doors disappeared and were replaced with walls instead, and my sister became more unreachable, spending more time beyond the walls that we could not, and did not, know how to bypass.

And so that was my dream about the power of grief, of loss, of my niece and my sister who I lost around the same time- although it took years for me to understand it.

I wish I could go back and be there for her now, that I knew the things I do now. I was only fourteen though- I didn't even realize that babies could just die like that. I didn't know what it was like to experience death, since this was my first relative to pass away. I didn't know what to say, or do, or not do. I am horrified by it now that I'm older, but I recognize that I did everything wrong. I just didn't know. And it's a very poor excuse. I wish I could go back and change everything. But I can't.

I tried to repair the damage in the recent years, the damage from our different griefs and ways of coping, and it seemed like things were getting better- but then they crashed. Because of our different beliefs, our different faiths, our different ways of living.

I still miss my niece a lot. I also miss my sister, and the way we were before grief built walls instead of doorways.

My grief has been doing the same things to me with the people in my own life, and I'm powerless to stop it. I recognize what's happening, because I've seen this happen before. But I also recognize that this is what grief is- it is isolating, it is lonely, it's messy, it's hard. I can make the efforts to keep people in my life, and I try to, but it gets hard when all you want is to build a wall and let it be.

I don't know- strange dream to have this morning and it got me thinking about grief, loss, my niece, my sister... a lot of things.

Monday, September 13, 2010

One more week-

One more week until we return for the follicle check- not holding much hope, but we'll see how that goes. I don't know why my body stopped responding to that dose, but I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything less. If my body can make something go wrong, it will. Perhaps it's because we're now six months out from the drilling, and the effects of it could be starting to wear off. Just speculation, of course. Even so, it could at least be contributing. Which makes me second guess taking a break after all- perhaps I should keep pushing until I stop responding at all, completely and utterly, again. I don't know.

Still bummed, and not in the best mindset with everything going on.

I've had a few bitter rants these past few days.
A few might be an understatement.

Self pity is ugly on me.

I'm just still very upset with the unfairness of it all- I keep getting so angry, and there's the familiar sadness... although I feel a little more defeated than normal. Just... defeated. Like it's over, and I don't want it to be- but my god, I want it to be. And then I get angry about everything all over again.

Trying to write out how I'm feeling is pretty useless, because I honestly don't know what I'm feeling. I'm all over the place. I've been so busy this weekend that I haven't been still long enough to just process for the sake of processing.

After I get home from work, I'll have all week to process because I don't go back to work until next Sunday night/Monday morning.

It's going to be a long week.

We are planning on visiting the nephew this week or the next- and I don't know what that's going to do to me. I haven't held an actual baby in years... it leaves my arms aching, my heart heavy, that longing empty and raw. I'm usually fine while I'm holding the baby- it's always after, on the way home, that I lose it. It's in the quiet of the night when I remember that I've lost.

Don't get me wrong, I am fine most of the time. I just have my moments, and this week has been especially hard because of the new nephew. It just adds a new level to everything, a new rawness to what I'm going through. Most of the time it doesn't bother me, but I have my moments. I'm processing my grief, I'm working through it. It's just really thick after so many years, and after we've been through so much. I'm having a hard time right now. It will be okay, I know, but right now... man, it hurts. And I hate feeling like this, being this bitter, this jaded... it's hard.

Friday, September 10, 2010

As if we expected any other outcome-

No mature follicles. No surprise there.

We're treating today as CD3 instead, and I'm taking 7.5mg of Femara. I go back on the 20th... we'll see how things look then, I suppose.

I feel like a freak of nature sometimes. Can't ovulate. Can't respond to treatments. Can't stay consistent in responding. Can't get pregnant. Can't stay pregnant.

If reproduction were our business, we'd be bankrupt and destitute.

My doctor is so sweet though, and she really wants to get us pregnant. She's saving me boxes of injectable medication, in the hopes that we'll do one more cycle of it. They're in their office with my name on them, as she said. She's going to keep saving them, right now it's not quite enough for a whole cycle... but about halfway there, so that's something. I am so thankful for such a kind and educated doctor, they are so hard to come by.

So, right now we're doing 7.5mg Femara. If I respond we might do another cycle of it. We might even do an injectable cycle sometime in the future. We'll see.

I still haven't went out to see the new nephew- we're so busy with all this stuff going on this weekend, and I just really can't handle it right now... need some time and space. Plus, I'm sure they need to adjust.

My mother-in-law made me cry a little bit the other day. On her FB update about her new grandson, someone asked how many grandchildren she had now. She told them she has 2 biological, 1 blessed through marriage, and 3 in heaven. It made me pause and reminded me how much it does affect others, even if they never mention it. My own mother would never count my lost ones, when someone asks her how many she has she doesn't even mention my niece who was stillborn. So often people glaze over them, even I do sometimes because it's easier than explaining... anyway, it just gave me pause to reflect, and it really touched me.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

He arrived-

Our new nephew was born early on the morning of the eighth. He arrived safely, with little fanfare; just as he should. Alive. Healthy. Perfect.

Everyone is so happy.

I'm happy for them, really. But I've had moments off and on all day- mini pity parties I guess you would say. I really hate feeling this way. I hate being so bitter, so jaded, so angry, so sad- I hate infertility, I hate pregnancy loss. I feel disgusted with myself when I start whining to someone about how unfair it is- life's not fair, and I freakin' know that. And I know what a precious gift it is for her. And I am so ardently happy that they don't know this pain.

But still. It's hard.

I feel fine and then I don't. I feel dislocated, amputated. It's easy to feel that way since we haven't been to the hospital, haven't smelled the scent of new life, haven't talked to them personally- only through impersonal text, impersonal FB messaging, through a nice shield of technology to keep the real and the all too real separate.

I'm sure when we visit next week, it will hit me more fully.

I laid in bed this morning after work, and waited for sleep. It was hard to come by, chased often by loose thoughts. I took them in, let them pass, took them in, tried to process and fail, fought to get to sleep. Before I went to sleep I shed a few tears for what I realized was part of the bigger sadness over it all... they have the life that we should have had. Not to say they shouldn't have had it too, but they have the life we honestly thought we would have... we thought we would, and then we didn't. They thought they would, and then they did.

I can see the whole future-that-should have been unfolded before us. I can see where things went wrong, and how it could have went right. How things could have fell into place, like it did for them, and how our life would be. I never unfold this future, it hurts too much. I tuck it away and hide it, I pretend it never existed.

But now, here is this replica of that old life-that-never-existed... in front of us, unfolding on it's own and in it's own unique way.

And we are watching it, and remembering what was lost.

If I hadn't stopped ovulating at twenty-one... If I hadn't lost the first baby... If I hadn't lost the second baby... If I hadn't lost the third... If life hadn't been so intent on giving me lessons on how to be kicked when you're already down...

No matter what happens now, that future is never achievable. That ship has sailed on without us. We are not the same people, our situation is not the same, our expectations are no longer the same, what we want is not the same. Even if a successful pregnancy is achieved, my husband and I will not rejoice until we hold a living breathing child in our arms. Even if said pregnancy is achieved we will never feel the way we might have before the first doctor told us we might never have children. We will never feel the way we did before the first miscarriage. We will never feel the way we did again. There will be no excitement from our families- not until we reach a certain point, because even they will sometimes acknowledge our history. Whatever way we become parents, the type of parent we are will be different- we will be more cautious, more protective, more paralyzed with fear that something will happen. We would have anyway, but now I know I will be all that more scared. Because we have struggled so hard, and lost so much.

No, that future is never achievable. Yet I continue to mourn it. I mourn the perpetual loss of it, because it didn't just leave us overnight- it happened over the course of years. Years.

One of the other things it's brought up, is the loss of my pregnancies. I should have a two year old, a one year old, a newborn... they should be children... instead of this unresolved longing, this aching grief. I miss them... even if pretty much no one else does.

As I said, there are a lot of emotions going on and I'm still processing.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010


I am anxious about my upcoming appointment. I hope I've responded, and there's a good follicle. Or that my body is at least thinking about it. Just a few more days and we'll see. In the meantime, I'm going to clean today. Tomorrow start working on my husband's birthday cake. And then try my best to accept the weekend, and to stay busy.

Oh... yeah.

Sister-in-law may have the baby today. I believe they're still at the hospital.
Lot of emotions with that.

More posts to come about that, I'm sure.
But for now, I hope the baby arrives safely.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Still alive-

I've been having some rough nights at work these last few weeks... and I think my brain is fried. I have a migraine from hell, and I was ready to scream up until an hour ago when things finally calmed down here. Sometimes working with adults can be a lot like working with kids. I love my job, I love helping people... but man, sometimes I get a little burnt out from the same things over and over again. It's just one of those nights- I'm sure things will calm down in the coming weeks.
I hope.

Deep breaths- it will be okay.
What was I saying?
Hello, it's 5am and I'm at work ready to bang my head into the desk.

I really do love my job- it's just rather trying at times.

Anyways- I finished the Femara a few days ago, have resisted the urge to chart my basal body temperature (so far), and am just focusing on the upcoming weekend. Which should be filled with awesome and horrible at the same time. I have my ultrasound Friday morning, then later in the day my husband's very small and quaint birthday party. (Oh, and I'm totally trying not to obsess too much over sister-in-law being due next week.)

Oh, yeah- that construction is still happening on our street... fun. It's been MONTHS now. I usually bypass that by going a few blocks over and going through downtown. Oh, no, wait... the city's silly festival is going on next weekend, starting Friday... when we have the appointment and party. Sooooo, all of downtown will be shut down alllll weekend looonnggg. Crap. It's going to be like a jig saw puzzle, or an intricate maze, just to get to my house. Our poor guests. I won't even be able to figure out how to get home, let alone will they.

Annoyed.... I'm sure we'll survive, but I may want to cry by the end of the weekend.

Oh sweet word, it's only Monday.

I'm just annoyed right now- you may not have noticed.

I don't think it's from the Femara either- I'm just an unpleasant person.
I feel that way right now, at any rate.
I hate it when I'm so clusterfucked and annoyed that even I'm annoyed with myself.

I'm not getting trying not to get my hopes up about this cycle- given my recent cycles. But I do find myself getting strangely hopeful. I don't like it. Because then I just feel crushed, and it sucks. I don't mean to get hopeful, I try to just focus on clearing our credit and the hope of possibly starting fostering or adoption in the next year or two- those are the things I feel safe to be hopeful in, those are achievable goals. Getting hopeful in treatments at this point... it feels sort of masochistic after everything we've been through. But there it is.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010


This cycle is officially underway. I got cleared on ultrasound and blood work, and I started my Femara yesterday. We'll see how that goes. Since my ovarian drilling I have ovulated 5 cycles in a row with the aide of fertility treatments... not bad. However, my ovulation to pregnancy rate has been decimated. I had previously gotten pregnant on literally every other ovulatory cycle... no such luck anymore. It worries me on one hand, on the other I do have less follicles and I realize that this can be "normal"... but seriously, it does concern me. Like, what, is something else wrong now?

Maybe it really is a blessing in disguise, because I can't have another miscarriage if I don't get pregnant- and that is all I'm asking for these days, really. I just don't want to have another miscarriage, and I want to be a mother someday somehow. You wouldn't think I would be asking for that much, for a normal person that's a simple enough demand- but what a tall order that is for me.

I'm still making plans for adoption- we're still plotting our course. I'm more excited about adoption than I am about getting pregnant, I can tell you that much. That's probably saying something at this point.

Our mid-cycle is scheduled for the 10th, which happens to be my husband's birthday party. His birthday is on the 14th, but we're celebrating on the weekend. I get to go get probed, then run home and try to assemble his cake. I am seeing a major cake wreck in my future. I bought back up cakes though, so if nothing else I will just make him a regular sheet cake. I am not a cake designer, and have no intention of it, I am not very handy in the kitchen- I just want to make something he'll like. We'll see how that goes.

Back the the mid-cycle... not holding too much hope in that. First cycle of Femara we triggered on cycle day 13. Second cycle, I believe we triggered on cycle day 16. So the 10th is cycle day 13. Not sure if we'll be ready by then, or not- or if I'll just not respond at all. That would happen to me after all. If it's not big enough, but definitely trying to get there, we'll come back for another ultrasound, likely around the 13th.

I've been doing a lot of thinking, and reflecting lately. A lot of things still bother me- festering under my skin. The second miscarriage, and how very awful it was- and how even the people closest to me don't know what I really went through with that. They don't know about the gestational sac, the 6 hours of contractions HELL. No one was there for me, the two weeks I was on bedrest before we confirmed it was over. No one was there for me the week after, when I was on pain meds and still in so much pain emotionally and physically. And still, most of them don't know what really happened. Some days I want to just scream it out loud, type it out to them and fuck how they feel about it, I want to tell my story- the REAL story- and I realize that I want to do this, because I don't think know they don't get it. They don't realize what happened, they don't understand what "miscarriage" really means. And I know that even putting it in their faces, they still wouldn't get it- you can't, unless you've really been there. My other miscarriages were bad, terribly sad- but nothing in comparison to what I went through with that second one. It was so unfair too- my betas were rising, tripling, perfectly. Everything was looking so good. And then... it was just over. So suddenly. But of course, we had to wait weeks to confirm that...

Maybe I just need to have a good rant, write it out, write out how I feel about it, what I went through- I don't know.

I don't know where I was going or what I was saying now... maybe I can reassemble my thoughts and return to them later.