unknown

After yesterday's normal beta, I was pretty much walking on air for the rest of the day.

What an odd sensation to have a good phone call about a pregnancy. There were no "buts" at all. She actually said "Congratulations!" at the end of the call. Surreal.

If I wasn't as graceful as a drunk rhino, I think I'd have been spinning in pirouettes yesterday. I was smiling- happy, even.

Today, the anxiety is creeping in. I keep playing possibilities in my head. I repeat the beta next Friday. What if it's bad? Then I correct myself - it will be good, damn it. But what if it's not? Can I handle this again?

Tonight, I had a bit of a break down.

David and I went to see Charlie Wilson's War (very good, btw) and on the way home, he was being sweet and cute and said "How's the embryo?" I snapped back out of nowhere, "I don't know, and I won't know for a long time. Can we just not talk about it?"

He was obviously stunned, "Why not?"

I told him that I'm trying not to think about it as much as possible. I don't have any answers, I'm not going to have any answers for a long time.

He was hurt and snapped back "So when I don't talk about it, I'm wrong, but when I do, I'm still wrong?"

I just started sobbing. I explained that him asking me how the baby was makes me feel like I should KNOW if the baby is okay. And I don't. I can't. No matter what I do, I can't. That what I really think is "Well, I'm not bleeding yet." and that's an ugly answer.

I told him I was sorry, but I am just scared to death.

He softened then, "I know." He said that all I had to say was that the numbers are good. I told him he already knew that and nothing had changed. If anything happens, I'll let him know. But that for now, I don't freaking know. I'm not in control, and I don't know anything. I started blabbering about how he gets to check in once a day, but I'm the one whose heart races every time I go to the bathroom because I'm so scared there is going to be blood.

He didn't talk for a long time. I was on a roll. I told him that I didn't know if my body was killing our baby as we speak.

By then, we were home and coming in the house. I went to the bedroom to change right away and he just followed me, sort of gaping. I'm not sure he was fully prepared for the depths of my emotions.

As I started talking about how I'm scared to let him down again, he looked shocked and said "I've never blamed you for the miscarriages." I just cried and said "I know. I've done plenty of that for both of us."

He gave me a lecture then about how I've done everything I could and it's not in our hands. That getting pregnant is a risk, no matter what. There's no way around it.

I finally stopped crying and apologized for snapping at him. He asked if I was okay. All I could say was "I guess." Talk to me in 36 weeks. I might be okay then.

--Trish

breathing

I only have a minute. Swamped at work but wanted to update everyone.

15dpo hcg: 119

They didn't test my p4, which I thought was weird, but the doc agreed to supps anyway, which are called into the mail order pharmacy.


Will write a real post later.

Thanks to everyone!

--Trish

On hold 'til Friday

My RE's office won't do a beta until Friday. Thursday is my "official" test date, so they wouldn't do it early. That is beyond frustrating to me. She said she didn't want it to be low and worry needlessly. Apparently they don't have charts earlier than 15dpo? Perhaps I could send them the link to www.betabase.info.

As for me, I'm pretty much a nervous wreck. I think I'm cycling from calm to panicked and back again.

Logically, I know there is nothing I can do that I haven't already done. I just fear a 3rd miscarriage so much. I want so much for this to be "the one."

My boobs are still only very, very mildly sore. I've had a few twinges/cramps here and there, but that could frankly be uterine expansion or my period coming. As I normally have a 13 day LP, as of tonight I'm officially late, so that's something, I suppose.

Thanks to everyone for the congrats & excitement. I hope it's warranted.


--Trish

Merry Christmas. 12dpo.

I'm in shock. Since I just can't wrap my brain around being pregnant from 4 million sperm, my theory is that the sex we had the night of the IUI was the mother lode.

I'm still sort of numb.

David's excited, of course.

I actually tested yesterday morning and had a sort of confusing result. There was what looked like perhaps MAYBE an evap line, but it wasn't pink, and it was right where the plastic strip is on the back of the FRER. After staring at it for what must have been a full hour in every light possible, I decided it was definitely negative and tossed it in the trash.

The test you're looking at is from this evening about 8:00. I'm taking the fact that I have ANYTHING at 12dpo as a good sign, since both previous pregnancies were completely negative at 12dpo. But I'm not quite preparing for either course yet.

We've discussed that either way, we'll be okay. It's funny, I said to David "I'm not sure I"m ready for all of this again." And he went on to assure me that we'll be great parents. I told him that it working out wasn't the "this" I wasn't prepared for. He said we've handled that before. We'll be okay. All I could say was that yes, we sure are good at handling the bad stuff.

So, here we go again. Third pregnancy this year. Not bad for 2 people who aren't supposed to be able to get pregnant, huh?

--Trish

Merry Christmas

Shall we have a Mind Fetus symptom check?

Sore boobs.

That about sums it up for the month. We all know by now that sore boobs mean nothing, so there we go. Though I do find their soreness sort of comforting. I was a little disoriented last month when they didn't hurt.

My temp has been down around coverline the last 2 days so I'm pretty much at the point of just wishing AF would come on already.

I'll be testing Christmas night as that is 12dpo and on the off chance that I am pregnant, I want that as a reference. I've actually had the urge to pee on something for a couple of days now. The POAS addiction is a strong one, I suppose. I wish I had faith in the cheapies. The urge hasn't been strong enough to make me waste a 10 dollar stick.


Oh, speaking of my boobs- the plan for lumpy lefty is to have another exam after my next cycle. I have an appointment to be felt up by the gyny on the 9th. I'm guessing that if she can still feel it, they'll want to do a biopsy. It seems like it's getting softer to me. But that might be wishful thinking on my part. Who knows? I just dread the idea of having to punch a hole on my boob.

Honestly, I'm getting rather sick of being poked at, period. I'm way, way beyond the point of modesty. I'm just tired of being probed. I think that might explain part of my lack of sex drive as well. Keep that shit away from me. My poor husband.

Anyway, we're gearing up to visit my MIL tomorrow. I've gotten over most of my pouting. I am a little annoyed because David said he was going to smoke half a half & bake half a ham. That turned into smoking half a ham and buying a ham steak at the store. Hmmph. Not exactly the same as baking one up. Perhaps I should cover it in pineapple & brown sugar anyway. But you know, I'll live.

I'm not sure what the plan is for all the trimmings, but I've already made up my mind that if there is nothing for me to eat, I'm going to McDonald's. Not in an effort to be bitchy (that's just a perk) but I refuse to be starving on Christmas again. That seems fair enough, right? I'm pretty sure I could sneak off to do it so as not to insult my MIL. We'll see, though. Maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised at the food options.

I will be eating well for Christmas Eve dinner. They have a tradition of eating something non-traditional on Christmas Eve. I volunteered to cook. It makes me feel a little bit more useful since on a holiday, I tend to feel more in the way than anything. Tacos & burritos are the menu for the eve. It's one of my favorite meals, so I'm looking forward to that.

Oh, and tonight, I made a wonderful meal if I do say so myself. The recipe actually is from the friend who coined the "Mind Fetus" term. It's a stuffed tenderloin and man was it good. I was a little intimidated but it turned out great. Cooking gives me quite a sense of accomplishment. It's one of the few things these days that really does please me.

Overall, I think I've been feeling better. I feel a bit like some of the depression is lifting. I don't have confidence in it just yet, but it's been a better few days. I'm still sad & pissed at the turns my life has taken, but in a more reasonable way than it has been. I've even been able to ponder the fact that this is my another Christmas w/o a baby in my arms w/o welling up with tears. I hope it persists.

I don't dare mention doing better to my husband because any time I mention any improvement he says "That's good!" in such a way that I feel like he's saying "I'm glad you finally got around to that." It's annoying. Just because he doesn't have the good sense to be pissed off doesn't mean I shouldn't. Right. RIGHT?

With that, I'm going to bed. Insomnia is at its peak. It's after 5am. This is the third at least 5am morning in a row. I'm in big trouble at my MIL's where the day begins not much later than that. I better sleep fast.


Merry Christmas everyone.

--Trish

Plans

I'm so freaking sad tonight.

I spent most of the day angry.

There is no specific reason for these emotions, it's just one of those days.

I started out feeling angry. Angry at my life, my crappy luck, my crappy circumstances, my crappy body, the crappy snow, the crappy parking lot snow-scraper guy at the post office, the crappy traffic... you get the idea.

I read that Jaime Lynn Spears is pregnant and I'm enraged. Seriously? I mean, SERIOUSLY? Sometimes I feel like we're players in some Shakespearean comedy. The infertile girl can't get pregnant, can't stay pregnant, but JAIME FREAKIN' LYNN SPEARS is pregnant? Fuck her. Fuck all of it. ANGRY.

Then as the anger wanes a bit, I'm overwhelmed with sadness. I'm dreading Christmas. I mean, just absolutely dreading it. I told David earlier tonight that I wish I could just skip to February first.

By then we'll know the outcome of this cycle, and have a plan for whatever the next step is. Christmas will be over. Maybe I'll have lost a few more pounds. Who knows?

I can't help getting bogged down in could-have-beens. This was supposed to be our first Christmas with the baby. This time last year I was pregnant. We talked about how "next Christmas we'll host everyone, because everyone is going to want to see their grandbaby." And not only is that not the case, but we've lost another baby on the way and don't appear to be anywhere near making another.

Truth be told, I'm also dreading spending the holiday at my in-laws. Not that I don't like them. I do. But as much as my family drives me batty- they're my family. I want my grandma's ham & my aunt's homemade beef & noodles. I want my dad to wake me up too early & be obnoxious with his cheer.

When we got engaged, we agreed to switch off holidays. The first year (3 years ago) we spent T-day at my family's and Christmas at his. Last year, it was the opposite. It's totally fair. I have no right to complain. But his mom's just doesn't feel like home to me.

That first Christmas w/o my family was awful. I felt like a stranger in a strange land. Their traditions are different. The food is different. The food served was not to my liking much at all. I had mashed potatoes & deviled eggs for Christmas dinner. Everything else was really not my cup o' tea. David smoked a ham. Everyone but me loves that. I absolutely loathe it. It's not a matter of "it's not as good as my grandma's" it's more like "If I get it in my mouth on accident, I want to throw up." I hate smokey flavors. Perhaps I'm high maintenance, but damn it, I want my grandma's ham.

David promises me this year that he's going to halve a ham and smoke half and bake the other. So that's something. But I'm still whiny. Not that I've complained to David- I haven't. It wouldn't be fair. He gives up his family to be with mine. I'm sure it sucks for him, too. (Even if I do not-so-secretly believe that my family's food is superior.)

I'm just being whiny. I know I am. But I'm sad, damn it. This is not the life I planned.


--Trish

IUI #6 complete

Lots of catching up to do. I wanted to post last night about the events of yesterday but my laptop has suddenly decided that I don't need to surf the web. AS IF.


Okay, after my lumpy boob episode, I called the hospital and was able to get an appointment on the 20th for an ultrasound.

At the encouraging of a friend, I made another couple of calls and found a place that could see me yesterday. So, yesterday I went for my ultrasound.

The ultrasound tech was less-than-pleasant. She had me point out the lump, marked it with a marker, then squirted u/s lube all over my boob. As she rubbed the wand over my boob she looked as though she'd just bitten into a lemon. I asked if she was having trouble. She sort of dismissed me and asked me to find the lump again. Then she rubbed some more. She still looked perplexed. I asked if she was not seeing anything. She replied, "Well, I'm scanning where you SAY you feel the lump."

Umm.. WTF bitch? I'm making up a lump? Because my idea of a good time is to plop my boob out for a surly chick with a bad hair cut and let her poke at it? I explained that I was not the one that found it- my doctor was. That yes, I can feel it now that it's been pointed out to me, so yes, I DO feel a lump.

She threw a towel over my boobs and told me not to wipe anything off, she'd be back.

She came back in and told me I was having a mammogram. Yes, music to a big boobed girl's ears. I just love my life. She had me get cleaned up and lead me down to the mammography area.

Fortunately, the mammogram tech had a FAR better personality. She had me find the lump (the original mark being gone from washing the 10 gallons of KY off my tit) and immediately said she could feel it. Good to know I'm not alone in my delusions.

Then the smooshing began. Honestly, the smashing wasn't the worst of it. That part really wasn't too bad. Only one of those actually hurt. It's the positioning that sucks. They have to get ALL of your tissue on the plate. So the plate is jammed into your ribs and they pull on the skin under your arm, above & below your boob and smash it in the machine. Oh, and of course, being large breasted, I had to hold the other one out of the line of sight of the machine. Sometimes I really wish these things were detachable.

Once that was done, she had me cover myself and then went to get the radiologist.

Essentially- they see nothing. Neither test revealed any anomalies. Per the radiologist, that usually means it's just normal breast tissue. But in some circumstances it could be something. I'm to follow up with my doctor. They may opt to biopsy it, they may opt to watch it. Who knows.

I feel 95% better about my boob.


In addition to my hectic day yesterday, I got a positive OPK. (Yeah, I was surprised! It worked AND was positive?) I was surging on my own a day earlier than they expected.


So, IUI #6 was today.

It went......okay.

There was little pain, which was nice. But we only had 4 million sperm. Obviously better than the 500,000 we had last month, but still firmly in "shitty" territory.

My nurse asked me if we were ready to talk about other options. She mentioned injectables/IUI and IVF. I told her my insurance is changing Jan 1 and I wasn't sure what sorts of hoops we would have to jump through so yes, we realize we're going to have to explore other options, but we don't know what all is involved yet. She recommended that if we get a negative this month that we set up a talk appointment with my doc & discuss where to go from here.

Honestly, if my insurance will let us move to IVF, I think we will just go for it. I dread it. My ovaries have hurt like HELL the last 2 days and that's with 7 follies. I can't imagine what 15 or 20 would feel like. But I also realize that we're probably just delaying the inevitable here.

So, I guess we wait and see. Of course, everyone is hopeful that this will work, but realistically, I have to look ahead.

The good part is that I had emotionally prepared myself for the low # so there were no tears today. 10 or 20 million would have been great, but I knew what we were getting into. So I'm okay.


All in all, it's been one heck of a week. Four trips to the doctor in four days. You'd think I was 81 instead of 31.


Thank you to everyone who responded about my boob crisis. I really, really appreciate the love & support I get from the community.


--Trish

Pouring

When it rains, it pours.

I have a lump in my left breast.

I have an ultrasound scheduled for 12/20 to get a better look at it.

Per the order:

Left Breast ultrasound. Palpable mass @ 4:00. 1x2cm on left breast, firm but mobile. And then there is a drawing of my boob. (That part made me laugh.)


I don't know how I didn't know it was there. Honestly, though, even when she felt it, when I tried to feel, I couldn't tell. When standing and poking, I can definitely feel it, though.


I'm a little freaked out. I know I'm only 31 and on hormones. She thinks it's "just a cyst" based on the feel of it. But I'm still freaked out.


I hate my body. It just seems like it's one thing after another. I hate my body.


Trish

Cycle 8 billion, Day 12.

In my charts, this is listed at cycle 18. There were a couple of months of charts before I bought ovusoft that were lost in a computer crash, so it's probably my 20th or 21st charted cycle. There were 6 months of "not-preventing" before that. The two pregnancies added time as well.

So we're at 26 months now, I think.

It seems more like 260. Or 8 billion.

Had my CD12 monitoring today.

Left ovary:
18mm
13mm
(2) 10mm

Right ovary:
18mm
(2) ~10mm
Possibly a 4th small one, but she was having trouble getting a good angle on it.

Lining: 5.8mm

They've decided to give me another 2 days to surge on my own and if nothing by Wednesday, I'll trigger Wednesday night & IUI on Friday.

I feel pretty okay with that. I usually ovulate around CD15 on Clomid. Friday morning would be pretty much CD15 1/2.

I just hope we have some sperm this month.

On the emotional front, I'm doing better.

David has gone out of his way to check in with me. He's made sure to take his vitamins, and he even managed to hit the gym one day w/o me. It helps a lot to feel like he's in this with me.

Tomorrow I have my pap smear with my GYN. It's funny that I dread it. I think it's mostly the sitting in the waiting room with 20 pregnant women. Wish me luck.


--Trish

Dam breaking

Today was a rough day.

I finally worked up the courage to discuss the brewing anger I've had lately. I swear, on my life, I was calm. I was rational. I was sensitive.

He was defensive.

It started out fairly well. I asked if he thought maybe I was depressed. That lead into me talking about how angry I've been. I really tried to make it about me. So much for that.

When he started yelling, I told him I was sorry and I shouldn't have mentioned it. That didn't dissuade him.

He rarely yells. I don't handle it well when he does. I left. Maybe not the best thing but I just had to get out. He seemed surprised when I emerged fully dressed & grabbed my keys.

I went and sat in the park for a while and sobbed. I don't know how much I was crying about our argument, really. I couldn't stop. I cried over his words. I cried over my words. I cried about my anger. I cried for our babies. I cried about our lack of sperm. I cried about the unfairness of it all.

I honestly don't think I've cried that hard since my first miscarriage. The weird thing was that I could hear myself wailing. I was thinking how I almost sound like I'm laughing when I cry that hard. You'd think that would make the crying stop. Nope.

I think it was a healthy cry. I needed to get it out. I've been so emotionally pent up. That's probably a big part of my anger.

After I talked to an infertile friend for a while, I felt strong enough to go home.

He met me at the door. We talked a long time.

I think the words that hurt me the most were "All you do is complain." I finally said to him that I have a lot to complain about. He agreed. It was funny how much him agreeing helped me.

I told him that when he tells me to be happy or tells me not to be negative it doesn't remotely make me feel better. It actually makes me feel worse. He was actually surprised. Apparently he truly thought that saying "You can't think about the bad stuff." would ACTUALLY make me NOT think about the bad stuff.

Men are weird. That's all I can say.

He apologized for not helping. He kept saying he wishes he could make me happier. I told him he makes me happy. And that he frustrates the living shit out of me.


He's promised to do better. We picked up his new vitamins this weekend. We've been to the gym and are going again tomorrow.

We talked about what happens if this doesn't work. What if we can't have a baby? Maybe we can get pregnant again, maybe we can't. If we do get pregnant again, there are no guarantees. Maybe I lose another baby... and another.. and another. Neither of us know what our stopping point is.

I talked about some of my fears about adoption. He's convinced we'll be parents one way or another.

All in all, it was a conversation that needed to be had. I stop short of saying it was good. I still feel too much sadness to call it good. We've made up. I feel less angry.

But there are so many questions left unanswered. I don't think I know what good feels like anymore.


--Trish

I'm it.

My first official tagging has occurred. Brooke actually tagged me several days ago, but I've been so wrapped in myself I just hadn't gotten to it.

Here we go.

8 Random Things about me.

1. My mom left when I was 2, and I was essentially raised alone by my father. He did remarry for a few years when I was young, but she was bat-shit crazy (no, seriously. She made Cinderella's step-mother look kind.) so it was really just us. My mom called when I was like 27, but turns out she was a wee bit crazy, too (though not nearly as bad as the stepmonster) so that didn't last long. I did managed to meet my half brother because of that, though. He's a nice guy.

2. I was tongue tied until my early twenties. It's a medical condition where a person's tongue attaches in the wrong spot in their mouth. The little flappy thingy under your tongue? Mine attached to the gums under my teeth. Apparently it's fairly common, usually is not attached the whole way but just a little bit in the front and is corrected (snip-snip) shortly after birth. Mine was completely attached. When I finally had it fixed, my dentist said he'd never seen one that attached before. Apparently my mother didn't want them to hurt me when I was little, so it was never done. It didn't affect my speech or anything, so it was no big deal. I just couldn't stick my tongue out. As a (sexually active) adult, that was a little annoying, so I had it fixed. Yes. It hurt. (I wonder if I'd have been a boy if she wouldn't have let them circumsize me?)

3. I met my husband online. Just in a random chatroom. I had dated boys from online before and had given it up. Too many fruit-loops out there. I was talking to him a long time. A mutual friend kept pushing me to go out with him. I kept insisting I was done with internet men. Then he asked me out & I said yes. 5 1/2 years later- here we are.

4. I can NOT sew. Not even a button. It's embarrassing. It seems simple enough, but for whatever reason, I can not get stuff to stay on. David does all our mending. Anything more complicated gets fixed by my MIL. Usually I just opt to buy something new. I can crochet, I'm fairly crafty, but sewing- Nope.

5. I make things leak. I know you think I'm exaggerating, but it's true. I have issues with water. Every car I've ever owned (except this one- YET) has had problems with the windshield washers. Either the lines break, or the wipers are possessed. Pipes in my house break. Even containers of liquid explode. It's like a weird mod-squad power. My best friend laughs at me. One time she was over and water started pouring out from under the sink. (A pipe screw thing had come loose.) He response was "Gee, I'm so surprised YOU have something LEAKING." One of the big reasons I built a new house was to not have to deal with crappy pipes. Within three months, my water basement was leaking (yes, they fixed it.)

6. If I wasn't married to a much more reasonable man, I'd have a whole house full of animals. I know you're thinking that I already do- 3 cats & a dog is plenty, but it would be worse. I'd have at least another dog. I've always been like this. As a little kid, I couldn't see anything hurt. I once got bit by a goose. My grandma chased it off with a broom and I sobbed for her not to hurt it.

7. My boobs are two different sizes. Like- drastically different. It's gotten worse after each of my pregnancies. Currently ol' right is in the neighborhood of a DD, and lefty is more like a G. This makes bra shopping difficult. Right now, I'm splitting the difference and wearing a DDD. But lefty is spilling over a good bit.

8. I really want to be a massage therapist. It was what I wanted to do when I was still in school, but no one took me seriously. My dad paid for most of my college (what wasn't covered in grants etc) and wouldn't pay for MT school, so I ended up with THREE associates degrees. It's a long story how it ended up that way, and the 3rd was actually an accident. (Literally- when I applied for graduation, the registrar called & asked me if I knew I had enough credits for a 3rd degree and asked if I wanted it. I, of course, said yes.) In our dream world, we have a couple of babies, and when they're old enough to be in school, I'm going back to school to be a MT. I can then work part time & still be home for the kids.


That enough about me?

I sure hope so!

Now.. Who to tag?!

Baby Steps
Malloryn
Will They Have His Eyes?
JKH
Tryin' in 2007
Yoda's Mistress
Kristen
Jen


To these people-
Make a post with 8 random things about yourself. Theoretically, you're then supposed to tag 8 more people, but I gotta say, that's a lotta work! Perhaps you could tag a few.

14dpo & counting

I don't know what the hell is going on. I have now peed on $40 worth of sticks. They all concur that I am NOT pregnant.

Where is my period?

I have a consistent 13 day LP. I should have started yesterday. Not so much as a pink spot.

I know I ovulated. Not only did we trigger with Ovidrel, my progesterone was over 20.

My biggest fear this morning is that I was pregnant but my level so low that I'm doomed to miscarry again. I don't think I'm pregnant. I use FRERs. That would measure an hcg of 20.

I guess I'll call the doctor in the morning.

I am so frustrated!


--Trish, the girl with the fucked up body.


**updated about 10 seconds after I posted this. Okay, maybe more like an hour, but still.***
AF is here. I actually said "FINALLY!" aloud in the bathroom. Funny how 5 years ago I wouldn't have even noticed.

IUI#5 12 dpo BFN

An unsurprising, yet exceptionally disappointing BFN this morning.


--Trish

Nothing to report

Let's have a Mind Fetus symptom check.












Okay. That was fun. Seriously, I can't remember a less symptomatic cycle in the last 2+ years. My boobs don't even hurt. That's unheard of even for a non-medicated cycle.

Perhaps it's my body's way of saying "You let us down with that 500,000 motile sperm. Why should we even bother?"

I plan to POAS in the morning. Not because I have the faintest inkling that it might be positive. I've just decided that I'm testing every 12dpo so that when I DO get pregnant again I can judge if I had a positive or negative at 12dpo and if my beta started out better than it did the 1st two times now that my giant septum is gone.

Not that it matters, it's just one of those curiosity things.

I haven't been in a good place emotionally. All of this is really weighing on me. It's also breeding resentment in my marriage.

I feel like I'm bearing the brunt of everything. It's not just fertility stuff, but that's the most important part.

His sperm count is so low it's ridiculous. There are very, very few things he can do to improve that, and even those, he seems unwilling to do. He SAYS he will, but he doesn't. He hasn't done anything to try to lose weight. Nothing.

I am the one who takes the pills & shots, makes the appointments, gets the dildo cam, has a catheter rammed up into my uterus one a month.

He's expected to lose some weight- at least not gain- and show up once a month & have an orgasm.

I realize jerking off into a cup in the midst of a noisy hospital setting isn't ideal. I can't imagine trying to have an orgasm in those surroundings. But in the grand scheme of things, well, call me a bitch, but give me a break.

I'm just really frustrated. I know losing weight isn't easy. I've been struggling for my whole life. But it almost seems like he's doing things just to spite me. It's a family tradition to get pizza from the best pizza place in the world before T-day & Christmas.

David and I had dinner before we drove to my family's place- a full dinner- a dinner in which he ate his entire meal & a good portion of mine. When we got to my family's place, he proceeded to eat no less than 5 pieces of pizza. After 3, I closed the box. My subtle way of saying "enough." He opened the box and took another. I closed the box again. He took yet another.

I don't want to be a nag. I don't. If someone commented on my portion control, I would probably come unglued. But his issues directly affect our outcomes. I don't know how he can look me in the eye knowing he's doing nothing to help us.

I'm doing what I can. Tonight I made a lighter dinner and purposely made leftovers. I packaged them individually so that he can heat them up easily. I haven't said anything to him since the IUI. The box-closing is the closest I've come. I don't want to make him defensive, but I honestly don't know what else to do.

Because of this, I've decided to go ahead and cycle in December. We had discussed not trying so that we could give him time to make some changes & hopefully see improvement. Since that clearly isn't going to happen, all I can do is cross my fingers that we get a good batch next month. And if we don't, we may just have to move on to IVF w/ICSI.

I don't want to. I really don't. But I don't know that we may have a choice. 500,000 motile sperm just isn't going to get us anywhere. Yes, I know there are people who have had miracles. My RE's nurse told me that her secretary conceived under such circumstances. But realistically, we all know it's seriously unlikely.

I'm just trying to embrace my path.


--Trish

Random burst of anger.

Insomnia continues (story of my life.)

In my quest to entertain my brain, I wandered through a message board, saw a ticker for someone's baby who is about the same age my first should be and my brain said "OH FUCK YOU."


So rational.


I'm going to go lay in bed & try to calm my adrenaline.



--Trish

MIL blues

Consider yourselves warned. This is a very long rant about my MIL. While it does discuss infertility as it relates to how she deals with it, it's really just a daughter-in-law bitching about her mother-in-law. Feel free to skip it.

I don't know how to deal with my mother-in-law.

I really don't.

She is a good person. She really is. I like her a lot. We've always gotten along well. In the years before David and I decided to get married, she was very vocal about wanting us to get married. We shop, we talk, we hang out.

That being said, we're really not the same sort of people. I'm a little loud. I cuss too much. I say what's on my mind- good or bad. I'm affectionate, but hot tempered. I've been known to slam doors & scream when discussing politics with my husband. (Let's just say we're on opposite sides of the aisle.) I'm a woman of extremes, I suppose. David has mellowed me a bit, as has age, but overall, I'm one with my Irish ancestry.

My MIL is quiet. I wouldn't go so far as to say she's meek, but that wouldn't be that far off. When David's father was still alive, she was the woman who asked him who to vote for on election day. She'll hug, but it's a nervous, half-hug to say good-bye. I can't think of the last time I heard anyone in their family say "I love you." They don't discuss things. Ever. Particularly anything that is remotely controversial or upsetting.

My MIL and I started having some tension during wedding planning. As I mentioned, she was quite vocal about her desire to see us married. The moment we were engaged, she all but disappeared. I was honestly surprised. She seemed the type who would want to be involved. Not at all. From a conversation that happened much later I learned that she thought having a wedding was...... wasteful, I guess. Basically, when I mentioned the headache of wedding planning she sort of gave me an eyeroll and said "Well, you wanted to have one." When I explained that no, actually, I didn't want a wedding- David did- she was surprised. David was there & confirmed that yes- he was the one who insisted on a full ceremony. I wanted to elope. You could see a change come over her instantly. She was suddenly sorry she hadn't helped. I guess it's okay for her son to be wasteful- I don't know.

In any case, I carry a little resentment from that. I did everything I possibly could to accomodate their family (which was about 75% of the guest list.) but she never wanted to do anything to help.

I know I should let it go, but there it is anyway.

When we started trying to have a baby, we didn't tell anyone. Both my MIL & my father had both been clamoring for grandchildren for some time. (About a month before we announced our engagement, my father famously announced "why don't you have a baby? You don't have to get married or anything.") We told everyone we were going to wait a year. We were buying time.

When we were originally diagnosed with fertility issues, I suggested we tell them. Not in great detail, just that we were trying, we were having trouble & we'd appreciate it if they'd be patient. We'd let them know when there was good news.

David's grand plan was to leave out the "trouble" part and just tell them we were trying. I thought that was a bad idea because it would only encourage them to ask how things were going MORE, not less.

We ended up going with something a little closer to my plan. (Surprise, surprise!) My dad took it well. He said he suspected as much because there seemed to be a lot of references to the doctor lately. (As it happened, we were actually going to the chiropractor a lot, but either way, he was right.) He pretty much wished us luck and didn't add any pressure.

My MIL was all but silent. Her commentary was more along the lines of "what is wrong with you?" When I explained that my ovulation is a little weak, but responding well, but that David's sperm left a little to be desired, her exact words were "Well, I just can't BELIEVE that. We couldn't keep from getting pregnant." (Both David & his brother were conceived while trying-to-avoid.)

I gently reminded her that actually, David's dad had a number of problems in the area. That they were actually told they wouldn't be able to conceive after the boys were already born. (MIL's tubes were already tied at that point, it didn't really matter.) And pointed out that it wasn't a genetic problem. His father's fertility has nothing to do with his. She had nothing to say to that.

Since then, she's made several comments about my uterus, my ovaries, my fertility etc. Every time, I point out to her that I'm not the only one with problems. I don't think I'm being overly sensitive. I really think she "blames" me. I honestly don't think that she is trying to be mean. I don't think she is aware of how her words come off at all. That's really the only reason I haven't given her a big Bitch Trish speech. I know she means well.


When we got pregnant last time, we called to tell her. Her first comment was "Is this baby........... do you know........if this one will make it?" Not "Oh congrats!" or anything. The first thing out of her mouth was that. I was stunned. I told her that there was no way to know that. She then asked if I was far enough along that it was likely. We said no, we'd only just found out. Apparently she expected us to keep it from her until we were further along. That seemed odd to me. If it was my kid, I'd want to know- good or bad.

After we lost the 2nd baby, David made the comment that next time we got pregnant, we weren't telling ANYONE. I told him that I guessed we'd not even tell his mom since she didn't seem to want to know. He said she just doesn't want to get excited & then be let down. (I will keep my snarky comments to myself about that.)

She didn't call to ask how I was after either miscarriage. She's never mentioned either baby at all, actually. She's actually made comments in passing that start with "When you ever get pregnant..." and I've had to respond, "I've BEEN pregnant. A couple of times now, actually." She just says that I know what she means. Yes, I do. It means she likes to pretend they never happened.

Just a few weeks ago, I mentioned something about having been off of work for a while in August. She asked why. I told her it was because I'd had a miscarriage. (In that- perhaps you've forgotten that my baby died- tone of voice.) She said "well, yes, but I didn't know you'd been off of work." I explained that since I was bleeding non-stop for more than 4 weeks, had 2 doses of medicine that should have caused me a lot more bleeding & pain but didn't work, and eventually had to have surgery- Yes.. I'd been off of work.

She said "Oh. I didn't know it was like that."

Well, no, you wouldn't. You've never bothered to ask. I just said "Yes. It was quite awful. Though none of that compared to actually having lost the baby." I've tried to stress to her a number of times that it's upsetting because she just doesn't seem to get it.


Anyway, my point being that I thought we weren't tell her anything about our trying anymore. It was David's decision, though a complete relief to me.

So when my MIL called earlier and said "Did you guys get through your stuff this week." I assumed she meant the flu. Turned out she didn't know anything about the flu. David had told her we were having an IUI.

I was totally unprepared for the conversation. She explained that she didn't know about the flu (and was appropriately concerned about that) but meant our "in vitro stuff." (Yes, I have explained a thousand times what the differences are. I can't help but wonder how many people think we're doing IVF because she can't get it straight.) I was surprised she'd even brought it up. The questions that ensued just left me floored.

I tried to dodge the questions by discussing the flu. She wasn't to be deterred. She asked if David's being sick affected our stuff. I said that it might have. She asked if David's "stuff" was okay. I said no, not really. She said "well, I'm sure being sick made it hard for him to do.........that." (My MIL talking about masturbation is so funny it was almost worth the uncomfortableness of the sitution.) I said that me managed. She asked if the numbers were okay (where did THIS come from!?) and I said no, not really. She asked if being sick is the reason why.

Now, this woman never asks any questions. I tried to avoid the questions & change the subject about 100 times. She just kept plugging away. So finally I said "I'm sure it didn't help. Being sick leads to white blood cells which aren't good for the swimmers. But he didn't have many to start with, which isn't related to being sick. The sperm were made more than 2 months ago, so that's unrelated. But yes, being sick probably contributed to the fact that only 20% of them were moving." She said "OH! I didn't know that!" (About the 2 months thing.) I gave her a mini lesson on sperm production. Then she asked why his count was so bad.

By this time David was sitting next to me, and I was even more uncomfortable. I told her that it might be related to his weight, it relates to his hormones etc. She seemed to accept that and then asked if that could be improved. I said we were working on it. I didn't know what the plan was. She was nice & supportive about how we had time to work on it etc.


Can anyone explain to me what happened to my MIL? I just never know what to expect. As I said, I think she IS well intentioned. But they are just a family that does not discuss stuff. I try to remember that when I'm feeling like she doesn't care or insenstive. I know she does care, she just doesn't deal well with emotional stuff. But then she goes and throws me for a loop tonight. Did someone call her up and tell her to shape up?

I don't get it. Ordinarily, I much prefer the supportive & involved MIL, but since we'd discussed not telling her we're pregnant, if she's intimately aware of our cycling, that's going to be sort of difficult to keep from her.

And, btw, nice of my husband to let me know he'd told her all of this. Jackass. Nothing like a little communication in the marriage.

Anyway, that's enough ranting about my MIL for the night. I must try to sleep.


--Trish

Recap

I apologize for the delay. I actually have half a blog post written from Monday. In the midst of writing it, my Internet crashed & was down for a day and a half. (The impression I got from the cable company was that it was a large cable failure/cut.)

Then both David & I managed to contract the plague (aka: the flu.)

It's been a heck of a week. And those are just the good parts.

Monday, I had my follicle scan. Lefty had 2 big 'uns. 22 & 24mm. Righty gave it the ol' college try with 3 ~12mm. The only lazy ass was my uterus. My lining was only 5mm. She won me an estrogen patch. I triggered that night at 8pm.

Wednesday sucked. David had gotten sick Tuesday night. He drove home from his conference & wasn't home 20 minutes before he started throwing up. We had to be up at 6 to be to the doctor's office by 7:30. He was up sick several times during the night, and I was up listening to him.

We got there & David went to do his business. He left as soon as he was done so that he could drive back to the conference.

I knew it was bad when they lead me into a conference room instead of an exam room. 2.5 million with 20% motility. They asked if I wanted to go forward. I didn't have much of a choice. We had to try.

After she delivered the news to me and I decided to go forward, she left me alone for a few minutes to set up a room. I called David to tell him. We ended up arguing. His grand solution was "well, we'll try again next month."

That really wasn't what I wanted to hear at that moment. I told him that I wasn't sure that was the best idea. If his count is so bad, there doesn't seem to be much point in putting me through the swollen ovaries etc. I told him that we needed to make some changes to try to improve his count & then move forward. He's put on a lot of weight the last few months & it shows in his sperm count. Well, that made him defensive.

He ended up saying "I did all of this for YOU." The words cut me in two. I couldn't believe he'd said it. And I said as much. I told him that I didn't realize that I was the only one who wanted to have a baby. Then I told him I had to go & hung up. That was pretty much when the sobbing began.

He called back a few minutes later & apologized. He reassured me that he wants to have a baby, too. But he can only do so much. I told him that that wasn't enough. I've tried to get him to get his weight under control & he doesn't listen. His actions have a very direct affect on our lives. If he isn't willing to do anything about it, then IVF is our only option. I think that woke him up.

About then, it was time for the probing. The insemination itself wasn't too bad. The catheter hurt a bit going in. I described it for David that it was a little like having your teeth scraped at the dentist - not painful, but terribly uncomfortable. Fortunately it was over quickly.

The emotional part didn't go so quickly. I cried through pretty much the whole thing. Poor Good Nurse Crystal. She literally wiped my tears & tried to calm me down. Of course, the nicer she was to me, the harder I cried. I finally told her that. She left then. Poor thing. She deserves a medal, she really does. So much for the doctor describing me as "stoic."

As I was leaving, David called again. This time he was a man on a mission. "How much weight do you think I can safely lose in a month?" I told him not more than 10 pounds. So that's what he's decided. He has a goal & he will meet it. I guess the hurt feelings had waned by then.

I wish mine had. I went immediately to acupuncture. More crying. I walked in and she asked how it went. I said "Not well." and the tears started again. Again, she was super nice to me. There's a special place in heaven for the people who have to deal with weepy infertiles.

I finally calmed down a few minutes into acupuncture. It was a good hour & then I came home & took a long nap. I took a few hours off of work & just slept.

As the day wore on, I started feeling ill. I ended the day puking my guts out. David had given me his plague.

Yeah, yesterday was a fine, fine day.

But it's over. It's funny that I spent more than an hour sobbing yesterday and am totally fine today. I guess I got it out. So this month is a bust. (And yes, it's a bust. 500,000 motile sperm is a bust. And we can't even have sex to augment that because David was out of town.)

I don't know what to do about next month. Theoretically the count could have been even worse because he was sick. White blood cells are bad for the swimmers. But I do believe it's related to his hormone levels which is related to his weight. Even if he does manage to lose 10 pounds between now & next month, it won't show in his sperm yet.

My acupuncturist recommended some supplements to try to help, as well. For anyone interested:

to improve testosterone levels- ginseng
motility-a chinese herb called shan zhu yu
amino acids to assist in cellular replication and increase counts-L-arginine and L-carnitine(also improves motility)

I think I'll wait and see how I feel in a week or so before deciding about next month.

I did officially change RE's again. I went back to my first RE- Dr. Keller. Not that I didn't like Dr. M. But no one will ever beat Dr. K. So that's good, at least.

Anyway, that's how things stand now. Yesterday sucked. Today is better. That's about the best I can hope for... improvement.


--Trish

The A word

It's 6am and I haven't slept yet.
I had too much caffeine last night. As a chronic insomniac, I wish I could just give it up altogether. It's a vicious cycle. I don't sleep, so I need caffeine to keep me going. Then I'm too wired to sleep.

I guess since I wasn't going crazy enough, I thought I'd add fuel to the fire.

I have been sitting here doing some research on adoption.

Adoption is a scary word to me for a lot of reasons.

When we decided to have a baby, I wasn't just excited about the notion of being a mother. I mean, I most certainly was, but that wasn't the only thing. I loved the idea of being pregnant. I've always envied women and their pregnant bellies. The way they lay a protective hand on their bellies. The sound of a woman talking to her unborn baby has always moved me to tears- even long before my own was a reasonable desire.

And there is breastfeeding. I've always wanted to experience the joy of nourishing my baby that way. Even the actual delivery has always seemed romantic to me. When other people are making jokes about crossing their legs when someone mentions an episiotomy, I shrug and think "totally worth it." It never scared me. Not even a little.

I was lucky enough to be present for the birth of a friend's baby several years ago. It was gruesome, but amazing. Her doctor kept trying to gross me out with the gore. He seemed disappointed when I was less-than-horrified.

Lest you think I'm unaware of the downside, don't worry- I know. Nausea, pain, body changes that blow your mind, I'm aware.

I wanted it all - joy & misery.

And I still do. But now when I think of pregnancy, my mind doesn't go straight to the idea of a big belly & kicks to the ribs. I think about ultrasounds with no heartbeats. The idea of actually being pregnant makes my stomach tighten into knots with fear.

Pregnancy has truly lost its luster for me. Now, I absolutely would love to experience a successful one. But I'm far too aware of how often that just isn't what happens.

But as scary as the idea of losing another baby is, adoption still scares me more.

I have absolutely zero hesitation about raising a baby that isn't biologically mine and/or David's. If the doctors told me tomorrow that they could implant an embryo in me and it would 100% take, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Or hand me a baby and say it's mine? Totally for it.

It's the process that scares me. I'm a fairly confident person, but the notion of being rejected over and over again by a prospective parent terrifies me. So much that just typing those words brought tears to my eyes. I worry about everything. What if we're too old? What if we're too fat? What if we don't make enough money? What if no one likes us?

There are practical concerns about money as well. We are fortunate to have infertility coverage through our insurance, so it hasn't cost a lot so far. But adoption is extremely expensive. How in the world would we ever come up with the money? Mortgage the house? What if we do all of that and then no one picks us?

And then there are the home visits & interviews. It's all perfectly reasonable. Of course they need to make sure we're decent human beings before they let us have a baby. But I think about my crazy ass family. I can only imagine the things they'd say if they were interviewed.

What if they ask about my childhood? It was certainly less-than-ideal. It resembles more of a lifetime movie-of-the-week than a real story, but it's mine none-the-less. Will they think I'm doomed to parent the way that I was? I'm quite certain that I'm not (or we wouldn't be trying for a baby at all) but they don't know that.

Basically, if I have to write down our life on paper- would it measure up?

Yeah. It's pretty much my biggest fear. Ever.

So, being the OCD queen that I am, I thought I'd do some research. I really didn't find much that I didn't already know. But I did manage to stumble across a site with prospective parent's profiles.

Holy shit, that sucked. They all seemed great. Greater than me, for sure. Many, many tears later, I decided to shut it down. I wasn't making myself feel better at all.
Quite the opposite, actually.

So. Here I am at 6am with all this nonsense milling around in my head.

Maybe it's all moot. Perhaps I'm currently 10 days pregnant (How's that for positive thinking?!) with a baby that will stick. Being me, however, I can't help but think of the future if that's not the case.

Adoption is an option. Eventually. Maybe. For now, it's just this scary notion that I'm not sure we can handle. Of course, I didn't think we could handle infertility or miscarriage either, but here we are.

Anyway, I think the Clomid is working. I'm hot, tired & bloated. My right ovary was a little pissy for a while, but ol' lefty seems to be taking over as usual.

Follie scan on Monday. We'll see what they say.

Off to try for sleep.


--Trish

Crappy day

Today was a shitty day.

There were lots of things going on, but I think my emotions were complicated by a) a lack of sleep b) a migraine from hell and c) artificial hormones.

When my period started last week & I sat everything up, I told David that my follie scan was on the 12th & we would likely IUI on Wednesday the 14th.

He nodded and seemed to be listening.

This morning I get a casual email from him (from work) saying "I did tell you that I'm going to be out of town the middle of next week, right?"

Well, of course, I freaked out. I've already started the Clomid, so if we can't IUI, I'm wasting a month of swollen ovaries, hot flashes & general discomfort. If he would have told me about the conference before I started the pills, we would have just taken the month off.

I was SO angry.

It turns out to be okay. The conference he is attending is about 2 hours away. He'll miss a few hours on Wednesday morning, but his boss is okay with it.

David just started this job in July and he's been off for a couple of pregnancy/miscarriage appointments, my D&C, my polyp surgery & now this. I feel like a huge pain in the ass.

I spent a good portion of the day feeling like a burden. I know in my head that he's not scheduling around "my" issues. He's scheduling around "our" issues. But because it comes down to my body, I feel guilty.

When he'd talked to his bosses and worked it out, he emailed me with the details. The last line read So let's just get pregnant this time and stay pregnant. Then everything is smooth sailing for nine months, right?

So filled with hope. I, of course, cried.

We talked early in the evening and I told him I felt like such a burden. He sighed and replied something like, "Well, we just have to what we have to do." That did not help. I know he wasn't trying to hurt me, but it did. It felt like he'd just said "yes, you are, but that's what are life is, so we deal with it." All I wanted to hear was "You are not a burden. We'll get through this together. I love you."

Funny how I didn't even know that guilt was lurking in there. POW! Infertility lands another punch. I feel guilty. I'm broken. He's broken, too, but we've figured out how to get pregnant. We can overcome his issues. But we work all this time to get pregnant and I can't seem to have a baby. Guilt.

Tonight we spoke again. He asked how I was doing and I told him my pity party was coming to an end. He seemed surprised, "Pity party? Why are you having a pity party?"

I explained that I just felt like a pain in the ass, like a burden, and really unappreciated. Again, he seemed surprised, "Well, I appreciate you!" I replied "Well, you don't seem to listen when I talk."

He finally apologized then. He told me he'd completely forgotten about the conference. The words made me feel better. Mostly because he actually sounded sorry.

When I came home, he met me at the door and we held each other a long time.

The night was good. But the day- it sucked.


Trish

Back in the Game

Well, I'm back on the TTC train.
Again.

I had my post-op appointment went Dr. M on Monday. It was, indeed, a giant polyp. She said it was about as wide & long as the first two knuckles of her index finger. So, approximately 2" long and 1/2" wide. It actually seems crazy to me there was something that big in there. It's gone now, so that's good.

A picture, for your viewing pleasure.

She said they're normally pink, but mine was white. She doesn't know why. It was large & odd enough that she thought it was possible leftover tissue from my last pregnancy, but the tests disagreed. Just a giant polyp.

I thought momentarily that she was going to make us wait another while to try again. She said we should wait a bit, but knew we wanted to get back to it. I said it had been 3 months since my miscarriage & she glanced at my chart and said "Oh, then we're okay."

I left with three scripts. Metformin ER, (Oh my god, it's so much better than regular Metformin that I seriously can't even believe it's the same drug. My GI tract is SO thankful.) Clomid & a Z-pack. The antibiotic is just precautionary. She had previously explained that some women carry a bit of infection in their uterus and aren't aware of it, so we'd do a round just to be certain that wasn't an issue.

I started spotting on Wednesday night, full fledged period on Thursday. That was sort of a relief, because my last two periods, I spotted for a good 3 days before my period, which isn't normal for me. I was glad to see something in the neighborhood of normal again.

I'm now set up for a follie scan for CD12. I assume I'll be ready to go that day, will trigger that night & IUI on Wednesday the 14th.

I'm nervous. I've had 5 rounds of Clomid now. My progesterone has been very good every time, but the last one was a lot lower.

Clomid Cycle 1- Progesterone: 27
Cycle 2- Progesterone: 34 (1st pregnancy)
Cycle 3- Progesterone: 25
Cycle 4- Progesterone: 24
Cycle 5- Progesterone: 15 (2nd pregnancy)

I realize that 15 is a good number. But to see it drop so much worried me even before I found out I was pregnant. Plus it was tested twice during my pregnancy and never went up. It was 15 both times. I just worry that my body isn't doing what it's supposed to.

So, I'm interested to see what happens this month. If it'll be higher like the first 4 cycles, or even lower.

I've decided I don't even care if I get pregnant this cycle because I'm so concerned about the progesterone stuff that I want to see what happens. My doctor is in the camp that believes that low progesterone levels are a symptom of a bad pregnancy, not a cause. Personally, I'd rather err on the side of caution & be supplemented.

I would appreciate anyone's insight on this. Particularly those of you who may have had a progesterone issue & then a successful pregnancy.

I actually feel pretty good about cycling again. Of course, the thought of actually being pregnant again makes me feel like vomiting. That's funny, considering I don't tend to do that when I actually AM pregnant. Morning sickness- no. Nervous condition- absolutely.

I did very well last pregnancy. I wasn't eaten up with worry the way I was the 1st time. Not that either thing lead to any different outcome. But I was a bit more relaxed last time. I can already tell this time I'll be sick with worry again.

I'm praying a lot for God to take it from me. I'm working to really surrender it to Him. But it still comes and goes. And the more realistically I think about actually being pregnant again, the more it comes.

But, what can I do? Keep moving forward. Focus on the task at hand. This is the time that I most relate to Martha Stewart's daughter. When she said on Oprah that she was doing THIS right now - that she was treating it like a job - that's how I feel. Right now, I focus on getting pregnant. When that happens, I'll focus on staying that way.

For now, this is enough.

--Trish

Rant.

Everyone in the entire fucking planet is pregnant again. Even every single fucking character on every fucking TV show is mother fucking PREGNANT.


That is all.


--Trish

Speechless

My husband's continued positive attitude still astounds me. David made a comment tonight that started "Just think, someday we'll be bringing our kids over to Grandpa Roberts.." (we were leaving my dad's house) and I actually gaped at him a moment because he said it so assuredly. I wish I felt that certain.

He wasn't really talking about the path to parenthood at all. He was actually making a joke about the road to my dad's house ever being fixed. (It's been under construction & completely closed FOR.EV.ER.) But he just announced it. Pure, unadulterated hope. Just thrown out there like it was common.

I, however, was unable to respond.

I always say "maybe someday we'll.." or "If we're lucky enough to have kids..." always with the recognition that it isn't a given.

I'm actually glad to know he still thinks positively. Even though his optimism sometimes (often) annoys the shit out of me, it's part of who he is, and I'd hate to see IF beat that out of him.

In that same vein, I was actually dumbfounded the other day because I genuinely had no clue how to respond to something said to me. It wasn't rude or anything. As a matter of fact, I probably would have had a better (any?!) response to something rude 'cause I'm so used to that rude now.

The background is that there is a woman at work who we'll call J. Now there is lots of history between J & I, mostly bad, but it's not really pertinent to the story except to say that she's one of those people that I never expect to be supportive AT. ALL. but has actually turned out to be probably one of the most supportive & least stupid-shit-saying people I know.

I'm going to include a little history only so that you realize that this is not a woman who speaks haphazardly.

Several months ago we were all talking about sick time and I casually mentioned that the only time I'd been out sick in the last year was when I was off for my first (at that time - only) miscarriage. It wasn't a discussion about babies, but about being off work so I didn't expect a response. Most people are glad to have a reason to gloss over such a thing. To my surprise, she actually interrupted me to say she was sorry. In that "look you in the eye, I really mean I'm sorry not just trying to make you shut up" way.

Because of my surprise I simply said "thank you" and figured that was the end of it. I don't remember what she specifically said after that but she basically ended up telling me about her DIL's ectopic & subsequent trouble TTC. Her son & DIL now have 3 healthy boys, but she was not giving me the oh-so-hated "So & So had problems and now they have three kids" speech, but simply sharing a story about watching her DIL suffer through it and expressing her sympathy.

After my 2nd miscarriage, she sent her sympathies again. No one at work had known I was pregnant but since I was gone for so long, lots of people contacted me wondering if I was okay. Being the completely out of the closet lunatic that I am, I was honest. And honestly, it didn't bite me the ass. Most people ignored it, but a few were way more supportive than I expected.

One night a few weeks ago, a few of us at work were talking & something got brought up about people saying dumb shit to sick people. I nodded knowingly and mentioned that I get a lot of dumb comments about infertility & miscarriage.

J looked suddenly sad. She went on to tell me about her daughter who passed away a few days after birth. She was born at ~23 weeks and didn't live long. She told me about the box she has at home with her birth certificate & foot prints. We both cried.

She told me her mother always told her that it was a blessing the baby didn't live because there would have been something wrong with her. "She probably would have had a learning disability."

J said that she always responds to her mother, "So what?"

I shook my head in disappointment and replied, "As you though you wouldn't have loved her anyway? What in the hell is so hard about saying you're sorry and just shutting up?"

J agreed whole-heartedly. I could see her get angry about it all over again. More than two decades later & the memories were still clearly painful.

It might sound odd, but it was actually comforting to me to feel her pain all these years later. Not that I want her to be sad, but to know that her daughter is remembered. Somehow it meant something to me. Who knows why.


She then went on to tell me that she'd actually had a miscarriage before her two sons. The daughter that she lost was her last pregnancy. One of her sons was killed in a car accident just a couple of years ago. So much pain. And she'd been willing to open it all up to me.

My point in sharing all of this is simply to illustrate that this is not a woman who says things carelessly.

Cut to Friday evening. I was working intently. (Okay, let's be honest, I was probably playing online, but in any case, I was focused on my computer & not on what was going on around me.) I hear J say "That's what's going to happen to Trish," which gets my attention.

I look up and ask "What is going to happen to Trish?"

She explains that they were talking about a woman's feet getting larger when she gets pregnant. That was what is going to happen to me and they wouldn't get smaller again and none of my shoes would fit.

It was that kind of casual conversation that people who have never faced a possibility of never having children would have. Only, she wasn't one of those people. And she wasn't speaking all that casually.

My reaction: "........."

I think I might have squeaked out "oh." but I don't know that it was actually verbalized.

I wanted to argue that she had no idea if I'd ever have a baby. But it felt.......disrespectful. I was acutely aware that she aware of the meaning of her words. She had spoken them on purpose.

I'm rarely at a loss for words. (You may have noticed how wordy my blogs are. Yes, I'm like this all the time.) But I honestly don't know how to respond to hope.

People often say "Oh I know you'll be a mom someday" but it's almost always in that dismissive way, as though I am stupid for being worried. They don't actually have any idea what the odds are of that happening or how they dwindle continuously. It's essentially false hope.

That is easy to deal with. I dismiss it as quickly as they dismiss my reality.

But real hope? From people who actually DO know, but have hope anyway? From not-insensitive, been-through-it-people like J & my husband? It feels wrong to argue with them considering I know that they know the score. But it still feels just as wrong to accept it as fact.

I guess it goes back to my inability to speak of hope. So for now, I guess I'll remain speechless on hope.

I'll be sure to send some words to heaven to thank Him for surrounding me with it anyway.


--Trish


P.S. Much gratitude is also being sent both to heaven & to all of you who responded to my last post. It was a rough few days and your kind words truly helped.

Tears

Today has been an tear filled day.

I was officially lapped. I wish I could say I congratulated the lapper. I couldn't. I want so much to be happy, but all I felt was empty. Not even jealous. Just empty.

Another friend is in labor. Last word she was dialated to 7 and well on her way. She's not had an easy time. She took a year to conceive. They're both in the military. He's deployed & she's in a foreign country giving birth by herself. I would say it's not a position I envy, but we all know that's only partly true.

I am happy for her- but again- the emptiness. I can remember commiserating with her own jealousy when it just wasn't happening for her. And she's now giving birth to a baby girl. I'm still here waiting to start trying again.

I feel so disconnected from everything around me. I sat at my desk at work and cried tonight. Not for any specific reason. Just everything. I keep watching life moving on around me and I feel stuck. Same Trish. Different day.

Then tonight on the drive home from work, I found myself behind a stalled car near home. At first I pulled around them. But something told me to check. As they pushed their car to the side of the road, I backed up & asked if they needed a ride. They turned out to be out of gas and a little lost.

They were a nice couple. Probably around 40, newlyweds married only 3 months- Dave & Dorothy. As I drove them to 2 gas stations to find a gas can & then back to their car, they told me about how they'd given a woman a ride to the metro stop coming from the exhibit they'd just left. Funny how Karma found them so quickly.

When their car finally started, he shook my hand & she hugged me. I headed towards home & sobbed. I'd forgotten was it felt like to feel connected. How good it felt to actually feel joy.


All over 15 minute favor. Who knew?

--Trish

Sneak Attack

WHAM!


What was that noise you heard?

That was sorrow sneaking up on me.

Today (Saturday) was my husband's birthday. The day was actually nice. A friend was in from out of town. We had a long lunch & hung out. I got the house cleaned & got a cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory (Chocolate Mousse.. YUM!) and then got dressed up all prettified.

We met David's best friend and his fiance at David's favorite restaurant & had a lovely meal. Then we all headed back to our house to enjoy the cheesecake & good company.

On the drive home, we passed our local hockey arena. It also hosts a lot of concerts. It was brimming with people & well lit in the night, so it drew our attention.

David brought up a friend who paid an exorbitant amount of money for Hannah Montana tickets for the show at the arena. That lead to a conversation about what we'd spend money on for our kids. David mentioned that going to a baseball game would be different.

All of a sudden I could picture in my mind's eye David at a Cardinal's game with his son. I started to smile at the thought when all of a sudden the sadness overwhelmed me. I started to well up with tears before I even realized what had happened.

All I could think was that David may never have a son to take to a game and what a true tragedy that would truly be. I shook it off pretty quickly, but holy shit, did it get me good. Even typing this all out made me cry all over again.

David would be a great father and I'm not sure I'll ever see it come to fruition. That sucks.


--Trish

Surgery

Well, step 5 is complete.

I had surgery on Wednesday at noon. It turned out not to be a septum after all. Instead, it was what my doctor told my husband was a giant polyp.

I don't have a lot of details because Dr. M talked to David. I love my husband, but he's not so good with the details. All I know is that she told him it was the size of a finger. I don't know if that's width or what. I go back for my follow up appointment in 2 weeks. I'll get more details then.

She did tell him that it was so large that if our embies implanted anywhere near it, they wouldn't have grown correctly. So I'm assuming it was at the top of the uterus where the septum would have been essentially causing the same effect.

Surgery went as well as could be expected. I think I talked with every person in the anesthesia department at the hospital about my trouble waking last time. I was pretty much told they couldn't guarantee it wouldn't happen again, but they would do their best. I didn't have trouble, thankfully.

I had some nausea, but the anti-nausea drugs helped. I managed not to throw up, which was appreciated.

I had a headache & a sore throat afterward. I've managed to kill the headache with ibuprofen. The sore throat will probably last a day or two. Nothing traumatic, though.

I was treated very well. I think the hospital has some special attractive person hiring practice. I've never seen so many gorgeous people in my life. The most attractive was a D.O. who was working in the first recovery room. He came & chatted for a long time.

He and his wife have twins from IVF. I assume someone must have said something to him about why I was there. He seemed to come to talk to me rather intentionally. He didn't read my chart first or anything. It was nice. I got the impression he doesn't get the opportunity to talk about it much. He talked to me for probably 15 minutes. Even mentioned how bitter you get after fighting so hard. He told me about his wife's OHSS and failed 1st IVF. He shared that they're trying some metformin now, hoping to get his wife it ovulate on her own, because they'd like more children.

It was a good talk. At the end he said he mostly came to talk to me to offer some hope. He said it in such a kind way that it nearly made me cry. It was certainly a better experience that the very pregnant woman who was wandering the recovery room after my last miscarriage.

In any case, I got really great treatment- mostly from very attractive men. (Nothing wrong with a little eye candy, right?) Now we just hope it did the trick.

Here's hoping that my next hospital stay is delivering a live, healthy, full term baby.


--Trish

Miscarriage & Pregnancy Loss Awareness

Today is Miscarriage & Pregnancy Loss Awareness Day.


Click the graphic for more information.

There isn't much I can say that hasn't been said a hundred times.

I love & miss my angels every day.

My heart goes out to all those who have suffered this tragedy. May we all find some comfort in knowing we're not alone.


--Trish
Mommy To Two Angels. May they rest in peace.

Pondering hope

Surgery is scheduled.
Wednesday at noon.

I've done some research on the septum. I came across some info that said that women with a septum have about an 18% chance at a successful pregnancy. After it's removed, success rates are close to normal.

I wish that I could take some great comfort in that. But I just keep thinking about all the stuff that statistically shouldn't have happened.

Chance of us experiencing miscarriage? 16%
Chance of both of us having problems? 10% (of the 16%)
Chance of 1 miscarriage? 20%
Chance of 2? 15%
Chance of a Septum? 1%

Everyone is so hopeful that this is "the answer." I want it to be, God knows I do. But all I can think is "what if it's not?"

A close friend who has recently given birth after a battle with IF & miscarriage wrote this week and told me that she knows it's hard to have hope, so she'd hope for me.

I gave a lot of thought to that and you know, hope is such a bittersweet emotion. Obviously I have some hope. We all have some hope- if we didn't, we wouldn't still be trying. But to speak of the hope, to admit it, to say it out loud- it makes me feel so vulnerable. I don't know what it is about saying it out loud that makes it more dangerous- but it does.

People who haven't been through it just don't get it. To have people tell me "But you have to think positive" makes me want to scream. YOU think positive. Me, I need my cynicism. I need to protect myself. After 2 years, 5 rounds of Clomid, 4 IUIs, 3 surgeries, 2 miscarriages, about 100 dildo-cammings, about a billion hoo-ha exams & still no baby- I beg of you, please leave me at least my cynicism.

I know it's probably an argument in semantics, but to hear "I am so hopeful for you" is a world of difference from "You have to have hope." Yeah. Maybe I DO have to hope. But do we have to talk about it?

And it's funny that hope I can have for other people. For friends suffering through the same things, I can feel such unadulterated joy when they win a battle. I can really hope for them. I can even say it out loud.

So the deal is this- you hope for me. I'll hope for you.


Trish

WTF

I have three quick things today. All are basically the same. What the fuck?


1. For those of you who are watching "Tell Me You Love Me"- and even for those who aren't. Have you ever heard of a doctor telling you to get on all fours after an IUI.
If you didn't watch- there is a scene where they're having an IUI (BTW- YAY for IUI on TV!) and they're asking how it went. The doctor tells them it went well. She mentions that the character has a tilted uterus & might want to get on all fours for a few minutes now that the insemination is done.
Now, I have a tilted uterus & have had some IUIs. I've *NEVER* heard of this before. Isn't the point of the IUIs so that getting the boys where they need to go isn't a problem? I don't get it. It was definitely a WTF moment for me tonight.


2. What in God's name is going on with my body? The spotting is picking up tonight. Even having a few cramps. It's definitely still not my period, but I don't know what the deal is. Ovusoft thinks I ovulated 2 weeks ago Tuesday based on CM. But temps sort of lend themselves to 2 weeks ago Thursday. It doesn't particularly matter this cycle, but considering I'm either 10 or 12 dpo, WHY am I bleeding? I normally have a 13 day LP, so really, the earliest I expected my period was maybe late Monday. I don't know what to think now. So again- WTF??

3. Does anyone know why I can't just get 7 days worth of posts to show up on the front page of my blog. I've got to my settings, into Formatting and set it to 7 days. I've even tried 3 posts. No matter what, my only two choices seem to be 1 post, or 1 month. And I find it interesting that if I do anything other than 1 post- I get a month's worth since "month" isn't even a choice. WTF?


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
edit: After I submitted this blog I went back and tried 3 posts again and that actually worked. Since I usually post 2 or 3 times a week, that's close enough to a week's worth for now. I still find it frustrating that 7 days must actually be 1 month in the programming.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*



That's all for me.

Thanks for the encouraging words & prayers from my last post. They must be working because I really do feel a bit better today. I even entertained myself tonight by browsing through crib bedding. And I didn't have the urge to cry once. (Yes, I like to live dangerously.)


--Trish

Anxiety

Anxiety is getting the better of me.

This is the first I'm speaking of it to anyone. I hate to even admit it to myself.

I've had panic attacks since I was a kid. I was medicated for generalized anxiety disorder about 5 years ago, for about 18 months. I haven't had an actual anxiety attack since stopping the medication but this week, I feel like I'm on the edge of having them again.

The thing that seems to get me the most is thinking about being pregnant & losing another baby.

Everyone is so hopeful about the septum surgery working and all I can think is "What if doesn't?" I am having a hard time accepting that the septum explains everything. I keep wondering if the septum was the reason for my losses if we'd have gotten as far as we did in both pregnancies. If there wasn't enough blood supply to our babies, would they ever have gotten a heartbeat? No one knows the answer. I know that.

I've been doing so well with accepting things that are beyond my control. I pray. I listen to "I surrender all" and I get by. But this week, I'm still having that churning, sick feeling in my stomach where I can't hardly function. I'm just filled with fear.

Today I went to the spa to use the gift card that my friends sent. My first treatment was a really great massage. Of course, as I lay there I was thinking of the REASON they sent the gift card (my 2nd loss) and that lead my brain down that whole path. So I was literally laying on the massage table with my stomach churning with fear.

I realized how stupid it was and did some breathing exercises & focused on how I was feeling physically rather than on what I was thinking and got through it. So far- no panic attack.

But it's getting to me. I don't know if this means I'm not ready to TTC again or not. I mean, we're still probably 5 weeks from that anyway. It's not like I have to make the decision now. But I don't know if this is really a sign that I'm not ready yet or if it's just one of those things that is never going to change so I need to just keep moving forward.

I was sitting here just now thinking how I wish I were one of those people that didn't believe a fetus was a life. Before I was pregnant, I felt really unsure of when I thought life began. But after having twice seen our babies' beating hearts on an ultrasound screen, I can tell you that I did feel like those were our children's lives. They started & stopped.

If I felt like it was later, maybe it would hurt less. Maybe the notion of going through it again would scare me less. I don't know. Maybe nothing would help.

The way it stands, though, I'm just filled with fear. I know that logically we've gotten through it twice. We'd do it again if we had to. But then what? What if we can never carry to term? Hell, what if I can't get pregnant again?

The idea of adoption is really, really scary to me. First- there is the money issue. We're fortunate to live in a state where infertility coverage is mandatory. Adoption would be 100% us. (Well, my company does offer a $5,000 adoption credit, but that's a drop in the bucket compared to what it costs.)But it's not even just the money. There is the whole process. I don't know where to begin. And the questions & paperwork and the worry about a birth mother changing her mind. I don't know if I can take it all.

So that leaves the idea of staying childless. Yeah. Stomach churning. I don't know how we'd do that, either. I know we'd be happy with each other forever. We love each other, we enjoy each other's company. But this is what we want - What I've always dreamed of. And to give that up- well, I'm not really ready to face that choice yet.

These are the thoughts that have filled my head & my heart the last week or so. I'm not really sure why it's all hitting me now.

Perhaps it's the idea that we might actually HAVE an answer. Maybe I just am too scared to accept that there might actually BE hope. You know that Hope and I have a tenuous relationship, at best. I don't know.

Once again- all together now- Infertility Sucks.


Trish


Oh. And P.S. Having mid-luteal phase spotting again this cycle. It happened last month, too. I assumed it was related to the D&C. But it's back yesterday & today. And Ovusoft decided it might be implantation spotting. Ha. I think I might have actually said "FUCK YOU" out loud when that message came up. (Unless my chart is all kinds of wrong, there is no chance we conceived this month. Nevermind the whole we-can't-conceive-on-our-own thing. Plus that would NOT be good news since we now know about the septum and would probably just mean another miscarriage.)

Happy Birthday to me

Today (well, Monday was, it's technically Tuesday morning now) is my birthday. Thirty-one.
It was a nice day. I took the day off work & slept in. Saw a movie, (The Kingdom- VERY good) met the husband for dinner. He sent me some purple roses. They smell sooo good.

Saturday we had a small party. Well, party is overstating it. We went to a Japanese Steakhouse & then came back to my place for cake.

I had a really great time. I'm clearly old because we did no drinking and just sat around and talked til after 1 am and I had THE BEST time.

I did have an odd moment during dinner. Two of the sets of friends that were with us have experienced infertility or miscarriage. The only person who was with us who has children was MY dad. That's out of the 10 of us.

Now, the infertile friend and I became friends based on our IF (though our friendship is so much more than that now.) So that makes sense. The other had a miscarriage a few months ago (between my first & second) but we were friends before that. The others just aren't at the point in their life to be trying.

And you know what? The night was so nice. No one said anything stupid to me. We were able to laugh & joke & be ourselves w/no pressure. What a fabulous evening.

That being said, it occurred to me that I don't talk to my friends who have children very much these days. Two of my closest friends, whom I have been friends with for at least a decade have children. Neither of them even know about my 2nd pregnancy. I feel so completely withdrawn from them.

Both of them conceived almost immediately after trying for all of their children. No miscarriages, nothing. One of them has in-laws who tried for a baby for about 3 years before conceiving. Infertility isn't foreign to her. But I just find so little to say.

The biggest thing in their lives are their kids. Completely logically, they'll talk about them.

The biggest thing in my life is my lack of kids. So of course, I want to talk about it. But they just don't get it at all. Cervical mucous? Pee sticks? Negative pregnancy tests? Dildo cams? Yeah.. I'm sure I'm a treasure to be around.

They are willing to listen. I'm just not willing to talk. I feel resentful of people who "don't get it." It isn't that they're not sympathetic or good friends to me. I just.. I've isolated myself.

At first it was self-preservation. Now it's just habit. And I'm not quite sure what to do about it.

Anyway.. This is mostly just late night ramblings as usual. Just something that was rolling around in my brain.

Overall, the birthday was good. I'm a *little* bummed about being a year closer to that magic 35, but not so bad.

My birthday wish is no secret. For 32 to see me as a mother..


-- Trish

Step 4 (edited)

Remember this post?
Particularly the part that goes a little something like this:

Step 1: Stop freaking bleeding. (After passing everything, thank you.)
Step 2: Start bleeding again.
Step 3: Lots of tests.
Step 4: Find some simple, easy to fix problem.
Step 5: Fix said problem.
Step 6: Start bleeding again.
Step 7: Get pregnant.
Step 8: Have live, healthy baby.


Well, I need to amend it a bit.
Steps 1-3 are done.
Step 4 has gotten a little hinky.

It seems I have a septum.

I had my saline sonohysterogram on Tuesday. It wasn't so bad, really. I was a little nervous. A lot of people don't think IUIs hurt, but honestly, I usually get fairly crampy. The thought of another catheter & a uterus full of saline didn't sound great.

As it happened, I was probably ovulating the same day as the test. That worked out in my favor (IMO) because my cervix was fairly open. The cath pinched for half a second. She started pumping the water in and asked how I was doing. Honestly, other than a slightly cool feeling, I didn't feel anything.

We're all (Me, the doc & the U/S tech) staring at the screen intently. My uterus blew up a little and she said "let's see if we can get a better look." Then she started pushing the saline a little harder. I got one good cramp out of that. I said aloud "Oh yeah.. I feel THAT." She apologized but right away said to the u/s tech, "do you see that?" The two of them jibber jabbered in speak that I didn't quite understand. They poked around a bit more and focused in on a couple of bright white spots trying to decide if they were air bubbles. Lots more fluid. No more cramps. They decided the white spots weren't bubbles.

And then it was over. Honestly, I'd say it was probably less than 10 minutes. Other than the one medium-strong cramp, I felt fine. The worst part of the whole thing was my soaking wet bum. They let me get up and get cleaned up (read: dry off) and dressed. I felt mildly crampy (way less than even period cramps) for about 20 minutes afterward.

The meeting with the doc actually surprised me. All the stuff they'd been talking about was apparently secret code for "septum and 2 small polyps." The polyps are tiny. If I can remember what I saw on the screen they were 2mm & 4mm, respectively. They probably wouldn't do anything about them if that was the only problem.

The septum is more troublesome. She said it was partial. I didn't get the full double barrel thing, but it was definitely there. She pulled off a couple of screen shots and in most it looks small, but the other it looked pretty thick (even to my untrained eye.)

So- lucky me- another surgery. The plan is to call when I start my period and from there we schedule a hysteroscopy. Of course, given the trouble I had waking up last time, the minute she said surgery, I wrinkled my nose. I told her about the trouble last time (she didn't know) and she offered to do it in the office. She said she prefers to do it in the hospital because while the risks are small, if I should bleed unexpectedly, there are resources available. She also said doing it in the office means a lot of pain. I opted for the hospital. Woe is me.

It'll likely be the 17th of October if things go as I expect. Three days off of work. Then next cycle we can start trying again.

Honestly, I wasn't thrilled at the news. I know that logically, it's good news. She told me that a septum is the #1 cause of recurrant pregnancy loss. Okay, I've got one, we fix it, that's good. But honestly, it just seemed like yet another fucking thing wrong with me.

My ovaries are fucked, my husband's sperm is fucked, and now my uterus is fucked, too. And the idea that maybe one or both of our babies would have made it if this had been discovered sooner really bothers me, too.

Years and years ago I had a 12 week period. I had a ton of tests and was at one point scheduled for a hysteroscopy. The day before the surgery, I stopped bleeding and they scratched the whole thing. If only we had done it then, maybe they'd have seen it and fixed it then. Who knows.

I know rehashing things that can't be changed is pointless, but it does eat at me a little bit. My body may well have killed our babies. Add another dose of pointless guilt.

But.. we know now and we'll fix it. It's a minor surgery and a relatively easy fix. Let's just pray it works.

So.

New list.

Step 1: Stop freaking bleeding. (After passing everything, thank you.)
Step 2: Start bleeding again.
Step 3: Lots of tests.
Step 4 (edited): Find some obvious, not-so-difficult-to-fix problem.
Step 5: Fix said problem.
Step 6: Start bleeding again.
Step 7: Get pregnant.
Step 8: Have live, healthy baby.

Onto step 5.


--Trish


P.S. I apologize for the delay in this post. I was having some issues signing into blogger.

bitter ramblings

My puppy doesn't have cancer. *phew*
The vet called this morning and all is well. I wasn't entirely worried, but there's always that nagging in the back of my head anyway. I'm relieved.
He still looks funny with shaved spots & stitches all over the place but he doesn't even seem to notice. I think he heard the vet say "E collar" and decided to behave. Stitches come out next week.

In the world of infertility, pretty much nothing new. My period came and went w/o much incident. My cramps were actually lighter than normal. Not sure why, but I'm certainly not complaining.

We're strictly forbidden from TTC this month since I have my SHG on Tuesday. That's likely the day I'll ovulate, so it's pointless anyway. We'll live.

Emotionally, I'd say I'm somewhere in the middle. My thoughts are filled with what it would be like to be a mother.

On the way home from work I was remembering a conversation I had with my husband probably 2 years ago. I don't even think we'd started TTC yet. I asked him if he thought he'd cry when our baby was born. He's the strong silent type. He looked at me like I was crazy. Of COURSE he wouldn't. When I mentioned a friend of his who still tears up when mentioning his son's birth, he scoffed. His friend is the sensitive type. David would never succumb to such nonsense.

Of course, we didn't know the path we'd be traveling then. I've since seen my husband cry simply seeing our first baby's heartbeat on a screen. I've listened to him ask about our wee grain of rice and tell me how he loves me and our little bean. And of course, we've never made it past 8 weeks. If he's such a sap already, I have a feeling he'll cry if/when we manage to actually birth a live one.

I got so emotional just thinking about the possibility of that day I started bawling in the car. Of course, I got home and he promptly annoyed the shit out of me and ruined the moment. Such is married life.

I did have an amusing bitter bitch moment at work yesterday. A coworker is pregnant. (Isn't EVERYone?) She'd informed me they were trying for #2 about a month after my first miscarriage. She was actually the first person that I ever had verbal diarrhea with. She heard all about how we'd been trying and I just had a miscarriage - all in a span of about 10 seconds. I walked away feeling like a moron. She lost her first baby as well, so I think that's what made me spew senselessly.

Anyway, she had come to tell me it didn't work 1st try (as it had with her first two pregnancies) and then I hadn't heard anything else. I assumed she was pregnant based on her silence. Three months later I was proved correct. She's now about 7 months pregnant.

The two coworkers on either side of me were debating how far along she was. I informed them she was 7 months. They both looked at me as if to say "And how do YOU know?" I just laughed and said "I'm acutely aware of all pregnant women. Ask me anything." I got a twisted amount of pleasure in the uncomfortable silence that followed.

Sometimes I do enjoy my bitterness. I figure I'm uncomfortable all the time. Let some other people be. I also find it amazing how uncomfortable just the allusion to my infertility can make people. Fuck it.

Speaking of bitter, I'll be spending the weekend with my MIL. (I'm bitter, not her.) I think it will be okay. I do believe she's sensed my discomfort with some of her comments (and lack thereof.) She's actually written me two letters in the last month. In both she mentioned how we hadn't had the chance to talk recently.

The last time we did talk, she questioned why I was off work for so long and I said quite flatly "I was having the never ending miscarriage." with that tone that says "are you stupid?" Apparently she's in the no-big-deal camp.

Again- Fuck that. Honestly, for all the hell I'd have to go through to get off work for as many doctor's appointments as I had, it was pointless to go to work. Never mind the fear of hemorrhaging at any given moment since they kept saying it was imminent. All of which I told her. That seemed to get through to her. She softened and said she didn't know it had been like that. Only her sad tone kept me from adding "That's because you didn't ask."

I know she's never experienced a miscarriage herself, but you'd think she might recognize that as sad as SHE is, we're 1000 times sadder and cut me some slack. Perhaps that's what the letters are about. Maybe she feels the distance between us and knows she's responsible for a good chunk of it and is trying to heal? I guess we'll see how the weekend goes.

In less bitter news- my friend has decided NOT to use the baby girl name we want to use. We had a very, very good talk. The last thing she said to me was that she loved me and would have never considered the name had she realized we wanted it. "Friends don't do that to friends." (This, of course, made me sob.) I may be a bitter bitch, but damn I've got great friends.


--Trish