The tears came today. I knew I had been holding them at bay. There were only a few silent tears weeks ago the morning I took the HPT and saw the very stark white negative. But there was a 2 year old to feed, and dress. Life went on. And I still had to go have my damn bloodwork taken to confirm what I already knew.
And then I was numb. Just numb.
And then I was angry.
And envious.
But mostly I have just been numb.
I have felt the emotion brewing though. I have been annoyed with people easily. I have just wanted to take hot showers and be on my computer dulling the pain by mindless internet searching. I have immersed my brain in trying to (unsuccessfully) dream new dreams.
And then I decided to sort, organize, and purge the 8 large plastic bins of clothes and baby supplies. Agonizing. Why, I chose now to do that, I don't know- maybe it helped me grieve? Maybe it helped me feel the anger? I don't know. I just been on a mission to get rid of ALL of it.
And then an email arrived just now in my inbox from one of those websites that sends regular developmentally appropriate topics. There have been several times they have been right on- like the week my itty bitty newborn born broke out in zits that could rival a 13 year old boy- the subject of the email was "Baby Acne- no need to worry". And a few months ago it was on 2 year olds and lying, which I had just been talking to my nanny about. And then today. Today the subject was "imaginary friends"
And the tears began to fall.
My daughter just turned 3 last week. And we have had an abundance of imaginary friends in our house. I delight in it on many levels. But it also has stirred up deep emotions.
The imaginary friends came into our world the week after we pulled my daughter out of preschool. It is a long story and one for a later time, but it wasn't going well for her. And so she brought her preschool friends with her into our home in her imagination. And I have felt guilt for pulling her from the school and classroom she enjoyed. Guilt that her social life is now richly in her imagination instead of at school.
And two days ago she asked me if there was a baby in my tummy. Gah! Where do they come up with this stuff? And I said "No, no honey there won't be any more babies my tummy." And my mama guilt revs up- that she will never have a sibling in the home, that it will be just me, her poppa, and her imaginary friends.
And damn it- I wanted more for her than that. I don't want her to grow up an only child in the house.
I don't want this.
It is so cliche, but so true- This definitely hurts less. It still hurts deep. It still can be brutal. But it doesn't even come close to touching the dark, dark days prior to holding my daughter in our arms. Nothing can touch that darkness. I know I will be okay.
But it surprises me still how deeply held the beliefs are around success and failure. I can't help but feel like I have failed. My body has failed. It is not what I want.
My husband has reacted strongly when I use the word "done", "never again", etc. I don't think he wants to rule out another IVF. We froze his sperm for that reason, so we could leave the door open. But, oh, I can't- I just can't- on so many levels. The finances, the physcial and mental toll. I just can't imagine coming to a place where I have the strength to do it all over again. I was supposed to have my follow up consult with my reprod med doctor today but ended up locking my keys, phone, and wallet in the car and have been stuck at home all day and had to cancel my appointment. Maybe the universe is telling me something.
Or maybe this is just going to hard for a while.
Monday, November 10, 2014
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
The wait
The wait has gone pretty fast, which I am not too surprised. Between chasing an almost 3 year old, working full-time and my husband ending up in the hospital unexpectedly, it has been a whirlwind. I also planned ahead and orchestrated it all so that a girl's weekend away I planned with 10 other mom friends fell this past weekend which also helped pass the time.
Tomorrow is my quantitative hcg blood draw. I have not peed on a stick yet. I have learned my lesson that it really just messes with my head. I am planning to do a home test though tomorrow morning before going for my blood draw- just to prepare me. Tomorrow is 9dp5dt, so based on my experiences with our fresh IVF#1 and FET #1 I am pretty confident tomorrow's peestick will give me info.
In the symptom department I absolutely feel pregnant. I know enough though to know that the estrogen and progesterone can exactly mimic these symptoms. I have felt nauseous (exactly like I did when pregnant with my daughter), ravenously hungry, moody, extra sensitive, sometimes bloated. Of course, non of this means much due to the cocktail of hormones I am on, but in the meantime it plays with my head.
The hard part about tomorrow is that in the world of infertility there really are only two answers tomorrow- it is either No, you are not pregnant or Maybe you are pregnant- meaning pregnant at the moment, but wait and see. Grrr.. So much waiting.
Today I feel pretty calm. I am glad there is only one more sleep before finding out how this part of our story will go.
Tomorrow is my quantitative hcg blood draw. I have not peed on a stick yet. I have learned my lesson that it really just messes with my head. I am planning to do a home test though tomorrow morning before going for my blood draw- just to prepare me. Tomorrow is 9dp5dt, so based on my experiences with our fresh IVF#1 and FET #1 I am pretty confident tomorrow's peestick will give me info.
In the symptom department I absolutely feel pregnant. I know enough though to know that the estrogen and progesterone can exactly mimic these symptoms. I have felt nauseous (exactly like I did when pregnant with my daughter), ravenously hungry, moody, extra sensitive, sometimes bloated. Of course, non of this means much due to the cocktail of hormones I am on, but in the meantime it plays with my head.
The hard part about tomorrow is that in the world of infertility there really are only two answers tomorrow- it is either No, you are not pregnant or Maybe you are pregnant- meaning pregnant at the moment, but wait and see. Grrr.. So much waiting.
Today I feel pretty calm. I am glad there is only one more sleep before finding out how this part of our story will go.
Monday, October 13, 2014
Back home.
Our embryo has come back home. Today was the transfer. Our last frozen embryo was thawed. And it survived. And it is back in me. Home.
It wasn't until I had dropped my daughter off at preschool today that it became real for me that today was the day. And I began to get anxious. Through this process (and the FET cycle is SOOO much easier) I haven't worried about anything along the way. Until today- our transfer was at 130pm and it wasn't until 930am today that I remembered that it still had to survive the thaw. I was very relieved when the embryologist came back in the room. At least I only remembered a handful of hours in advance, so at least I didn't fret the whole cycle.
Today was much like our last frozen embryo transfer. It was easy. It was quick. It was actually kind of fun. It just is such an awe-some event. To see it on the screen. To know that it was conceived in the same batch as our now almost three year old spit-fire of a daughter. And it is amazing how much love I feel for this embryo. Even moreso this time, than last, I felt a connectedness on a soul level to this 5 day old bundle of cells.
Now we wait. 9 days. I really really hope this last hurrah goes the way I want it to.
It wasn't until I had dropped my daughter off at preschool today that it became real for me that today was the day. And I began to get anxious. Through this process (and the FET cycle is SOOO much easier) I haven't worried about anything along the way. Until today- our transfer was at 130pm and it wasn't until 930am today that I remembered that it still had to survive the thaw. I was very relieved when the embryologist came back in the room. At least I only remembered a handful of hours in advance, so at least I didn't fret the whole cycle.
Today was much like our last frozen embryo transfer. It was easy. It was quick. It was actually kind of fun. It just is such an awe-some event. To see it on the screen. To know that it was conceived in the same batch as our now almost three year old spit-fire of a daughter. And it is amazing how much love I feel for this embryo. Even moreso this time, than last, I felt a connectedness on a soul level to this 5 day old bundle of cells.
Now we wait. 9 days. I really really hope this last hurrah goes the way I want it to.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Injected.
Tonight I gave myself an injection of lupron. I have no idea at this point how many times I given myself an injection, or a pill, or a patch. Too many to count.
I do know that I started this blog 6, almost 7 years ago. And infertility and loss continues to draw me back here to write.
I do know that I have posted nearly 300 posts, not to mention the couple dozen posts that sit in my draft folder, never to be finished or published.
It has been exactly a year and a half since there were IVF meds in this house.
And here we are again.
We actually intended to schedule our 2nd and final FET long ago. But it has been a roller coaster of a year with numerous challenges and stressors and we just never felt like we came up for air. But, we did come up for air, long enough to decide that it is now or never and called our clinic this summer to book an October date.
Since then, to be honest I have rarely given much thought to it other than the bare minimum of making sure I had the meds delivered on time, and the next appointment for this that or the other scheduled.. My husband had to remind me that tonight was the night to start injections as life has been a blur of the start of preschool (how did my baby become a preschooler??!!), start of a new job for me, and the hiring of a new nanny. Life is good right now. Really good.
I am not sure what I feel. I feel like I am just going through the motions- but it isn't in a "I don't care" kind of way. I guess I am not longing and grieving right now as was the case 3 1/2 years ago when we ventured into our first fresh IVF. But, I am not completely detached emotionally either- I think the emotions just run much further away from the surface this time around.
Tonight as my husband and I were refreshing our memory on just how to go about giving the injection, he came over and sat down and asked to pray with me. It caught me by surprise as prayer, sadly, has not been as much a part of our life together as a couple in recent times with the demands of parenting a very spirited toddler. But the stillness of sitting next to him as he prayed welcomed a flood of emotions over me. Flashbacks to the desperation, the hope, the grief, the anger of our 4 years of longing for the child we never knew if we would hold. Juxtaposed to the reality of our toy-strewn living room, with walls covered with preschool art projects from the daughter that I can't even recall what life was like before her. And then comes that longing. That desire. That hope that our family will be more than it is. The slight feeling of guilt that I would ever for a moment want more than I have. The giddyness of thinking about the possibility of just one more- -just one more-- plus sign on a pee stick. The warm, soft, slipperyness of that new baby, the hope realized, being born into our very own hands- brand new to this world, and yet a soul we feel like we have already and always known
But the fear is also there- the fear that a negative will spiral me into a dark place again. THAT dark place again. The fear that this is the end. The final final lottery ticket. The fear that I won't find a way to be at peace with our lil family of 3 being all there will be. That fear is real. It is there. And I guess I am grateful that I am too busy right now to feel any of that- most of the time.
October 13 is the transfer.
IF,....if it works.......(ahg, that is a loaded two letter word).....our hopes would be realized on or around July 1, 2015.
If.
I do know that I started this blog 6, almost 7 years ago. And infertility and loss continues to draw me back here to write.
I do know that I have posted nearly 300 posts, not to mention the couple dozen posts that sit in my draft folder, never to be finished or published.
It has been exactly a year and a half since there were IVF meds in this house.
And here we are again.
We actually intended to schedule our 2nd and final FET long ago. But it has been a roller coaster of a year with numerous challenges and stressors and we just never felt like we came up for air. But, we did come up for air, long enough to decide that it is now or never and called our clinic this summer to book an October date.
Since then, to be honest I have rarely given much thought to it other than the bare minimum of making sure I had the meds delivered on time, and the next appointment for this that or the other scheduled.. My husband had to remind me that tonight was the night to start injections as life has been a blur of the start of preschool (how did my baby become a preschooler??!!), start of a new job for me, and the hiring of a new nanny. Life is good right now. Really good.
I am not sure what I feel. I feel like I am just going through the motions- but it isn't in a "I don't care" kind of way. I guess I am not longing and grieving right now as was the case 3 1/2 years ago when we ventured into our first fresh IVF. But, I am not completely detached emotionally either- I think the emotions just run much further away from the surface this time around.
Tonight as my husband and I were refreshing our memory on just how to go about giving the injection, he came over and sat down and asked to pray with me. It caught me by surprise as prayer, sadly, has not been as much a part of our life together as a couple in recent times with the demands of parenting a very spirited toddler. But the stillness of sitting next to him as he prayed welcomed a flood of emotions over me. Flashbacks to the desperation, the hope, the grief, the anger of our 4 years of longing for the child we never knew if we would hold. Juxtaposed to the reality of our toy-strewn living room, with walls covered with preschool art projects from the daughter that I can't even recall what life was like before her. And then comes that longing. That desire. That hope that our family will be more than it is. The slight feeling of guilt that I would ever for a moment want more than I have. The giddyness of thinking about the possibility of just one more- -just one more-- plus sign on a pee stick. The warm, soft, slipperyness of that new baby, the hope realized, being born into our very own hands- brand new to this world, and yet a soul we feel like we have already and always known
But the fear is also there- the fear that a negative will spiral me into a dark place again. THAT dark place again. The fear that this is the end. The final final lottery ticket. The fear that I won't find a way to be at peace with our lil family of 3 being all there will be. That fear is real. It is there. And I guess I am grateful that I am too busy right now to feel any of that- most of the time.
October 13 is the transfer.
IF,....if it works.......(ahg, that is a loaded two letter word).....our hopes would be realized on or around July 1, 2015.
If.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Overwhelmed
Sometimes I find myself wondering what being a mother would be like if I had not gone through the dark road of infertility, miscarriages, waiting, doubt, and despair. Sometimes I try to compare my reality as a mother to other mom's who got pregnant easily, on schedule, or even ahead of schedule.
I know there is no comparison. It is isn't possible to compare. Because I only know my own experience. But I still wonder.
My nephew was visiting last week and we enjoyed ourselves as a family being tourists for the week, seeing the sights in the city that we don't usually take time to enjoy. There is a huge fountain downtown that I have walked past before, or stopped to watch it spray water into the air, but hadn't given it much more thought than that it was nice to walk by.
At the end of a long hot summer day in the city, we passed it on our way to the car. When M's eyes lit up when she saw it, we put her in a swim diaper that we happened to have in her bag and let her loose for some spontaneous fountain play. As I sat on the edge of the fountain watching DH and M splash and squeal, tears welled up in my eyes, catching me by surprise.
The gratitude I feel that I am a mom, that I am M's mom, still overwhelms me at times. I can't help by think What if she never came in to my life? I can't speak for other moms and how they feel about the way their children came into our life, but I know for me, for my journey, this is the gift that infertility gave me. I know that I do not take it for granted that M is in my arms. And an unexpected run through the fountain stirs up that gratitude from the deepest of places - because I know what it was like to walk by that fountain before I had M. And I am beyond grateful for the chance to spontaneous let her get soaking wet in the fountain on the way to the car.
Because I came so close to not ever having that chance.
M sleeps a lot. It has worried me for a while. But there were no other red flags to really give me reason to worry. I brought it up to her dr. in late winter. She wasn't concerned, as she was on target and developing well during her awake times. Last week I took M to her naturpath to talk nutrition because her quantity of sleep is still off the charts for "normal". I was just tired of worrying. She took some blood work, just to check a few things. We found things she wasn't looking for.
We have been referred to a couple of specialist. More bloodwork was taken today by M's other pediatrician (MD). The docs are alarmed, but clearly trying not to alarm us. It could be a perfect storm of several minor things that look worse on paper than they really are. But it could be scary stuff too. The doctors aren't being casual about following up on it.
I am scared. I am trying not to be.
I know it may be something that will be a game of watch and see before we know if it is anything to be afraid of.
But I am scared- I am the most afraid I have been since I found out I was pregnant with her. The doctor asked during today's appointment if I have any questions and I said no. No because I don't want to know anything more right now. I know the scary stuff they are concerned about. And until we have more information from this round of bloodwork, I don't want to hear them say out loud what they are afraid it might be.
Updated: We got the bloodwork results back today, earlier than expected. Almost all of the abnormalities are back in range. No real reason why. Possibly a virus that she was fighting. One lab value is still concerning so we are being referred to a hematologist, but for now the scary stuff is behind us.
This is one week i'd rather not repeat.
This is one week i'd rather not repeat.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Coming up for air
I am coming up for air since the grief of our negative FET. It was rough. Rougher than I expected it to be. But healing from it, and coming up for air, isn't nearly as tough as in the days before my daughter M was in my arms.
Babies are being born ALL around me right now I have gained an amazing community of first time moms with children the same age as M. But the consequence of that is that they are (almost) all starting to have #2. Three have been born in the last 4 weeks. Two more are due soon. and three more are due this Fall. That familiar feeling is still pretty close the the surface- that feeling of your breath being pulled out of you when a pregnant woman walks into a room, or when I watch M gently stroke the back of a 1 week old baby in adoration. I feel the old grief lurch in side. But it most definitely has been healed some by the joy that M is in my life. I delight in her. I delight in being her mom. And i find peace in that amidst the fertility that surrounds me.
For a while after our negative FET, I had to step back and give myself a space from all the bellies and babies. But as time goes on, now I find myself in a space where I see my friends with bellies bursting, chasing toddlers who are throwing tantrums, and those with newborns trying to breastfeed, and recover from the birth, and meet the needs of their toddler, and I find myself NOT wanting that. It makes me tired just thinking of that being our life. I am guessing that it is only a defense mechanism. Maybe it is my emotions way of telling myself that it is okay in the end that I didn't get pregnant. It is probably just the way my heart is finding a way to cope. But right now- I am not longing at all to be pregnant or to have another baby.
Part of me is grateful to this coping mechanism, as it is allowing me to just go on with life.
Part of me finds it disturbing to loathe the idea of pregnancy and a new baby so much. What kind of infertile person loathes the idea of getting pregnant and having a baby!?
When we got the result, I immediately went into goal setting mode telling myself that I was going to lose another 15 pounds before our next FET. Seven weeks have passed, and I have accomplished nothing. My motivation has been non existent.
But I am telling myself again, that I am going to find my motivation to commit to losing this 15 pounds that I had gained during our infertility journey. I am proud of my success in losing all of the pregnancy weight. I just want to be a bit more healthier.....if....when...we try again...for the last time.
We are aiming for our last FET in September. I told DH that I needed some time to have my body back. To grieve a bit. And I also wanted to lose this weigh.
Part of me worries we are waiting too long- as the clock is ticking. And if it DOESN'T work we don't have any easy next steps- adoption or a fresh cycle would both take a lot of time and a lot of money to put into gear.
But the other part of me has ZERO interest in dealing with anything related to IVF. ZERO. I am tired. I want to play this summer, and I am plenty content with life right now.
So we will see- I have yet to actually schedule the date- but that is what we are aiming for. Hopefully my heart catches up with my brain by September.
Babies are being born ALL around me right now I have gained an amazing community of first time moms with children the same age as M. But the consequence of that is that they are (almost) all starting to have #2. Three have been born in the last 4 weeks. Two more are due soon. and three more are due this Fall. That familiar feeling is still pretty close the the surface- that feeling of your breath being pulled out of you when a pregnant woman walks into a room, or when I watch M gently stroke the back of a 1 week old baby in adoration. I feel the old grief lurch in side. But it most definitely has been healed some by the joy that M is in my life. I delight in her. I delight in being her mom. And i find peace in that amidst the fertility that surrounds me.
For a while after our negative FET, I had to step back and give myself a space from all the bellies and babies. But as time goes on, now I find myself in a space where I see my friends with bellies bursting, chasing toddlers who are throwing tantrums, and those with newborns trying to breastfeed, and recover from the birth, and meet the needs of their toddler, and I find myself NOT wanting that. It makes me tired just thinking of that being our life. I am guessing that it is only a defense mechanism. Maybe it is my emotions way of telling myself that it is okay in the end that I didn't get pregnant. It is probably just the way my heart is finding a way to cope. But right now- I am not longing at all to be pregnant or to have another baby.
Part of me is grateful to this coping mechanism, as it is allowing me to just go on with life.
Part of me finds it disturbing to loathe the idea of pregnancy and a new baby so much. What kind of infertile person loathes the idea of getting pregnant and having a baby!?
When we got the result, I immediately went into goal setting mode telling myself that I was going to lose another 15 pounds before our next FET. Seven weeks have passed, and I have accomplished nothing. My motivation has been non existent.
But I am telling myself again, that I am going to find my motivation to commit to losing this 15 pounds that I had gained during our infertility journey. I am proud of my success in losing all of the pregnancy weight. I just want to be a bit more healthier.....if....when...we try again...for the last time.
We are aiming for our last FET in September. I told DH that I needed some time to have my body back. To grieve a bit. And I also wanted to lose this weigh.
Part of me worries we are waiting too long- as the clock is ticking. And if it DOESN'T work we don't have any easy next steps- adoption or a fresh cycle would both take a lot of time and a lot of money to put into gear.
But the other part of me has ZERO interest in dealing with anything related to IVF. ZERO. I am tired. I want to play this summer, and I am plenty content with life right now.
So we will see- I have yet to actually schedule the date- but that is what we are aiming for. Hopefully my heart catches up with my brain by September.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Another life
I was married once before. It seems like another lifetime. It seems like it was someone other than me. We got married 15 years ago this summer. 15 years!!! Our divorce happened two years later.
I have not seen him since he looked at me on the steps of the courthouse the day our divorce paperwork was submitted before the judge, and he turned and walked away without saying a word.
I saw him today.
It brought up a lot of emotions. Not about him. But about the journey. I think about where I could have been in life, about where I have been and where I am now. I have gone through some of the toughest times in the past 15 years, and yet I can honestly say i love my life today more than I could have ever dreamed of.
We were young- too young. We married quickly- too quickly.
Seeing him brought up deep rooted emotions not about him, but about who I was and who I am now. It would be tough to say which journey was harder- the darkness of the divorce and recreating my life afterwards or the darkness of infertility and miscarriages. By far they are the two darkest times in my life.
At the time I met him, I was longing to be in a relationship. I was longing for family, as my immediate family was in dishevel. I had just moved 1400 miles away from home for the first time. And he had this great big gigantic extended family. Aunts, and uncles, and cousins, and grandparents, and in laws and the list continues. I felt like I had found home.
I also lost a sense of my identity, of who I was - because I never never imagined i'd be divorced!- but I also lost all the family I had come to love and be loved by. Almost overnight.
But like the journey of infertility/miscarriages the strength that grew up in me during that time fundamentally changed who I am. And I have no regrets of who I have become.
I saw him at a funeral today. It was the funeral of my best friend's father. My friend is his cousin. She and I became instant friends when he introduced her to me at a family gathering, and the divorce never affected our friendship. She without doubt will be my life long friend.
And I realized at the funeral today, as I gave hugs and was hugged by the great big gigantic extended family that I used to officially be a part of- I realized that I am absolutely more at home in my life now than ever before. And the family that has become our family- through cancer, and miscarriages, and birth of our daughter- is indeed a great big gigantic extended family.
It is not the life I thought I would live, but it is so much better than I could have ever imagined.
I have not seen him since he looked at me on the steps of the courthouse the day our divorce paperwork was submitted before the judge, and he turned and walked away without saying a word.
I saw him today.
It brought up a lot of emotions. Not about him. But about the journey. I think about where I could have been in life, about where I have been and where I am now. I have gone through some of the toughest times in the past 15 years, and yet I can honestly say i love my life today more than I could have ever dreamed of.
We were young- too young. We married quickly- too quickly.
Seeing him brought up deep rooted emotions not about him, but about who I was and who I am now. It would be tough to say which journey was harder- the darkness of the divorce and recreating my life afterwards or the darkness of infertility and miscarriages. By far they are the two darkest times in my life.
At the time I met him, I was longing to be in a relationship. I was longing for family, as my immediate family was in dishevel. I had just moved 1400 miles away from home for the first time. And he had this great big gigantic extended family. Aunts, and uncles, and cousins, and grandparents, and in laws and the list continues. I felt like I had found home.
I also lost a sense of my identity, of who I was - because I never never imagined i'd be divorced!- but I also lost all the family I had come to love and be loved by. Almost overnight.
But like the journey of infertility/miscarriages the strength that grew up in me during that time fundamentally changed who I am. And I have no regrets of who I have become.
I saw him at a funeral today. It was the funeral of my best friend's father. My friend is his cousin. She and I became instant friends when he introduced her to me at a family gathering, and the divorce never affected our friendship. She without doubt will be my life long friend.
And I realized at the funeral today, as I gave hugs and was hugged by the great big gigantic extended family that I used to officially be a part of- I realized that I am absolutely more at home in my life now than ever before. And the family that has become our family- through cancer, and miscarriages, and birth of our daughter- is indeed a great big gigantic extended family.
It is not the life I thought I would live, but it is so much better than I could have ever imagined.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
And so it goes
Stark white.
Gah, I forgot how absolutely glaringly white a negative peestick is. Just stares at you.
Blank.
I haven't cried. If anything, I feel angry. Pissed.
Pissed that it costs so much money to get pregnant in our reality.
Pissed that I don't have control in my life in this area.
Pissed that my friends are going on without me- having #2, and yet again I watch from the sidelines.
Pissed that I don't feel great about my body right now. I feel like it has taken a beating. I feel old and tired.
Pissed that I have to do the FET prep all over again.
Pissed that we only have one more chance.
Pissed that we are that much closer to having to wrapping our head around the idea that this one in our arms may be the only one.
Well, wouldn't you know it- that last sentence triggered the tears. Deep breath.....
Two frozen embryos never sounded like enough. But it was always enough to know that I had two chances. And that second chance was just the extra cushion I needed so that I didn't yet have to consider life with only one child. .....becuase I still had 2 chances.
But 1 more chance- 1 more frozen embryo- puts me so close to having to face the fact that there may never be a sibling. may never be another pregnancy. may never get to experience giving birth again.
So much closer to having to close this chapter.
And damn it, I'm not okay with that.
Gah, I forgot how absolutely glaringly white a negative peestick is. Just stares at you.
Blank.
I haven't cried. If anything, I feel angry. Pissed.
Pissed that it costs so much money to get pregnant in our reality.
Pissed that I don't have control in my life in this area.
Pissed that my friends are going on without me- having #2, and yet again I watch from the sidelines.
Pissed that I don't feel great about my body right now. I feel like it has taken a beating. I feel old and tired.
Pissed that I have to do the FET prep all over again.
Pissed that we only have one more chance.
Pissed that we are that much closer to having to wrapping our head around the idea that this one in our arms may be the only one.
Well, wouldn't you know it- that last sentence triggered the tears. Deep breath.....
Two frozen embryos never sounded like enough. But it was always enough to know that I had two chances. And that second chance was just the extra cushion I needed so that I didn't yet have to consider life with only one child. .....becuase I still had 2 chances.
But 1 more chance- 1 more frozen embryo- puts me so close to having to face the fact that there may never be a sibling. may never be another pregnancy. may never get to experience giving birth again.
So much closer to having to close this chapter.
And damn it, I'm not okay with that.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Tomorrow I will know...whether I want to or not.
I don't want to be in limbo anymore. The not knowing it hard.
But I don't want to face the truth either.
Wish I could fast forward to tomorrow. And if the answer is a Negative, I wish I could fast forward in time until it no longer hurts.
I have POAS twice now. I said I wasn't going to until Wednesday morning. But I caved. It was compulsive really- I didn't even stop to think about it.
Monday afternoon, 7dp5dt, after an impromptu nap- I got up, unwrapped an expired test from my drawer and peed. Didn't even think twice. It was negative. But i could handle it because I intentionally peed on an expired stick and it was afternoon pee, not morning pee. So, it allowed me to keep hoping, while still getting my POAS stick fix.
Tuesday morning 8dp5dt,, with my addiction in full force, I peed on a brand new FRER with morning pee.
Sigh. I think it is negative. Although, it was very very reminiscent of two years ago with this episode of 8dp5dt. Maybe there was an invisible line? Maybe? But so freakin' hard to tell. I swear I was making it up, wishing it into a hallucination of a line.
Sigh, ...
My back hurts, my boobs feel full, I feel bloaty, and very very cranky. Which I know well enough to know it means nothing- it merely means I am a hormonal mess. Which I am. I just don't know WHICH hormones are causing the mess....the progesterone suppositories and estrogen patches, or pregnancy hormones.
Sigh....
I am afraid to find out tomorrow.
I don't like this.
But I don't want to face the truth either.
Wish I could fast forward to tomorrow. And if the answer is a Negative, I wish I could fast forward in time until it no longer hurts.
I have POAS twice now. I said I wasn't going to until Wednesday morning. But I caved. It was compulsive really- I didn't even stop to think about it.
Monday afternoon, 7dp5dt, after an impromptu nap- I got up, unwrapped an expired test from my drawer and peed. Didn't even think twice. It was negative. But i could handle it because I intentionally peed on an expired stick and it was afternoon pee, not morning pee. So, it allowed me to keep hoping, while still getting my POAS stick fix.
Tuesday morning 8dp5dt,, with my addiction in full force, I peed on a brand new FRER with morning pee.
Sigh. I think it is negative. Although, it was very very reminiscent of two years ago with this episode of 8dp5dt. Maybe there was an invisible line? Maybe? But so freakin' hard to tell. I swear I was making it up, wishing it into a hallucination of a line.
Sigh, ...
My back hurts, my boobs feel full, I feel bloaty, and very very cranky. Which I know well enough to know it means nothing- it merely means I am a hormonal mess. Which I am. I just don't know WHICH hormones are causing the mess....the progesterone suppositories and estrogen patches, or pregnancy hormones.
Sigh....
I am afraid to find out tomorrow.
I don't like this.
Monday, April 8, 2013
FET #1
I have bad memories from my 1st embryo transfer. It was a fresh cycle. I was overstimulated, bloated, in pain, and they couldn't get the cathether thingy thread through a tough angle in my cervix. It seemed like it too a lifetime.
I was in pain. I was terrified something was going to go wrong. I covered my eyes and I wished for it to be over.
Sure there were glimmers of the amazing miracle in the works- seeing the embryo on the screen- amazing. My husband by my side, taking it all in in awe, the collective sigh the room took when the embryologist gave the all clear that the embryo was officially in me and not in the syringe- all amazing.
But it was rough.
Today's transfer was down right fun. And mind boggling quick.
My appointment was at 3pm. I was to arrive at 245pm. I go there at 240pm and they had me back, bladder checked by u/s, talk with the embryologist, and legs in the stirrups by 255pm. By 3pm, the embryo was in and it was done.
The staff was excellent. The embryologist answered all kinds of curiosity questions that I was too out of it to ask the first time. She clearly loved her job. The u/s tech was great. My bladder was perfectly full (which no matter how much I drink i have NEVER in all my treatments been able to get my bladder sufficiently full). The Dr. got the catheter to curve through my tough spot no problem (certainly having previously birthed a 7 pound baby vaginally helped him out). and they added a heating pad to the table, which made it oh so much more comfortable then last time.
And I was in awe. To see that embryo on the monitor, that embryo that was conceived in the same batch with the 24 pound wiggly toddler I know get to call my daughter- it is just insane.
I am in awe. In awe that a bundle of cells like that created her. In awe that as I type this we have been given another chance to do it all again.
In awe.
Tonight as I type this, I feel calm. I feel like I can handle whatever comes my way. I feel grateful for the gift of those 15 minutes in the embryo transfer room- to be in the presence of something as amazing as that embryo. And even to be given the chance. I feel like I can accept whatever is to come.
I hope.
I was in pain. I was terrified something was going to go wrong. I covered my eyes and I wished for it to be over.
Sure there were glimmers of the amazing miracle in the works- seeing the embryo on the screen- amazing. My husband by my side, taking it all in in awe, the collective sigh the room took when the embryologist gave the all clear that the embryo was officially in me and not in the syringe- all amazing.
But it was rough.
Today's transfer was down right fun. And mind boggling quick.
My appointment was at 3pm. I was to arrive at 245pm. I go there at 240pm and they had me back, bladder checked by u/s, talk with the embryologist, and legs in the stirrups by 255pm. By 3pm, the embryo was in and it was done.
The staff was excellent. The embryologist answered all kinds of curiosity questions that I was too out of it to ask the first time. She clearly loved her job. The u/s tech was great. My bladder was perfectly full (which no matter how much I drink i have NEVER in all my treatments been able to get my bladder sufficiently full). The Dr. got the catheter to curve through my tough spot no problem (certainly having previously birthed a 7 pound baby vaginally helped him out). and they added a heating pad to the table, which made it oh so much more comfortable then last time.
And I was in awe. To see that embryo on the monitor, that embryo that was conceived in the same batch with the 24 pound wiggly toddler I know get to call my daughter- it is just insane.
I am in awe. In awe that a bundle of cells like that created her. In awe that as I type this we have been given another chance to do it all again.
In awe.
Tonight as I type this, I feel calm. I feel like I can handle whatever comes my way. I feel grateful for the gift of those 15 minutes in the embryo transfer room- to be in the presence of something as amazing as that embryo. And even to be given the chance. I feel like I can accept whatever is to come.
I hope.
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
My crystal ball
I have found it to be interesting how naturally I have gravatated back to my blog as we have moved into our FET journey. I didn't plan to be away. I didn't plan to come back to blogging. It just happened.
The longer I have been on this journey of TTC, infertility, reading blogs, and blogging, the more I have come to be aware of the fact that the blog world for me is my crystal ball. I started reading blogs 5+ years ago. I know this because some of the bloggers I stumbled across back then's first borns are 5 years old.
We had barely started TTC back then. Maybe we hadn't even actually started. But we had no idea the path of loss and reproductive medicine that would be our road. But I found myself reading blogs- blogs about infertility and loss. Why? I don't know. I just don't know. Sometimes the superstitious side of me thinks that by starting to follow IF/RPL blogs I caused my own destiny. ..... I know that is silly, but ....
But I do think that in an unconscious or subconscious way blog reading was a way to seek control for me- it was my way of trying to see into my own crystal ball and know how my story would go. I read blogs to feel like I could figure out what my story would look like.
Would our IUIs work...would I get pregnant with endometriosis....would we get pregnant with low morphology...would we get pregnant after 1 miscarriage....2 miscarriages....would we get pregnant with IVF....would we stay pregnant....would we birth a live baby.....
How would my story go.....
It was futile of course. But it, at times, gave me what I needed to hang on.
If her IUI worked, maybe mine would, if SHE got pregnant after multiple losses, then maybe I could, if SHE had a baby after years of infertility, than maybe, just maybe that is how my story would go.....
And then I had my baby. She is here, really here, in my arms. And my longing to know how my story would go subsided. The longing was fulfilled in so many ways, and I stopped wondering.
This upcoming FET has triggered that wonder again. Wondering how this part of the story will unfold, but it is far less intense than before. More than anything, I am finding this blog space to be a place where i can talk out loud - I can talk about estrogen patches, and vaginal u/s, and FET transfers. Being back in the fray, I am remembering how there just isn't space in our public lives to discuss these things. Staff lunches, family Easter dinner, playdates at the park- there are very few real live people that know about this FET. It just doesn't easily come up.
So, I blog. I write. I ponder how this story will go.
Lining confirmed today to be nice and plush. Estrogen is excellent. Transfer is a Go! for Monday.
I am excited. I am hopeful. I am grateful for how easy a FET is compared to a fresh. I am grateful that I feel good. I am beyond grateful for my pudgy, happy, smart, strong-willed toddler that fights diaper changes and drapes her arms around my shoulders and presses her face into the crook of my neck when she is exhausted at the end of the day.
I am a little scared how I will feel if we don't get pregnant. Or if we get pregnant and miscarry. I feel strong. Centered. Resilient. ....right now. But it has been a long time since I have been crushed by a BFN or by the red spotting that predicts the end. I don't want to feel that again. I just don't.
The longer I have been on this journey of TTC, infertility, reading blogs, and blogging, the more I have come to be aware of the fact that the blog world for me is my crystal ball. I started reading blogs 5+ years ago. I know this because some of the bloggers I stumbled across back then's first borns are 5 years old.
We had barely started TTC back then. Maybe we hadn't even actually started. But we had no idea the path of loss and reproductive medicine that would be our road. But I found myself reading blogs- blogs about infertility and loss. Why? I don't know. I just don't know. Sometimes the superstitious side of me thinks that by starting to follow IF/RPL blogs I caused my own destiny. ..... I know that is silly, but ....
But I do think that in an unconscious or subconscious way blog reading was a way to seek control for me- it was my way of trying to see into my own crystal ball and know how my story would go. I read blogs to feel like I could figure out what my story would look like.
Would our IUIs work...would I get pregnant with endometriosis....would we get pregnant with low morphology...would we get pregnant after 1 miscarriage....2 miscarriages....would we get pregnant with IVF....would we stay pregnant....would we birth a live baby.....
How would my story go.....
It was futile of course. But it, at times, gave me what I needed to hang on.
If her IUI worked, maybe mine would, if SHE got pregnant after multiple losses, then maybe I could, if SHE had a baby after years of infertility, than maybe, just maybe that is how my story would go.....
And then I had my baby. She is here, really here, in my arms. And my longing to know how my story would go subsided. The longing was fulfilled in so many ways, and I stopped wondering.
This upcoming FET has triggered that wonder again. Wondering how this part of the story will unfold, but it is far less intense than before. More than anything, I am finding this blog space to be a place where i can talk out loud - I can talk about estrogen patches, and vaginal u/s, and FET transfers. Being back in the fray, I am remembering how there just isn't space in our public lives to discuss these things. Staff lunches, family Easter dinner, playdates at the park- there are very few real live people that know about this FET. It just doesn't easily come up.
So, I blog. I write. I ponder how this story will go.
Lining confirmed today to be nice and plush. Estrogen is excellent. Transfer is a Go! for Monday.
I am excited. I am hopeful. I am grateful for how easy a FET is compared to a fresh. I am grateful that I feel good. I am beyond grateful for my pudgy, happy, smart, strong-willed toddler that fights diaper changes and drapes her arms around my shoulders and presses her face into the crook of my neck when she is exhausted at the end of the day.
I am a little scared how I will feel if we don't get pregnant. Or if we get pregnant and miscarry. I feel strong. Centered. Resilient. ....right now. But it has been a long time since I have been crushed by a BFN or by the red spotting that predicts the end. I don't want to feel that again. I just don't.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
A Christmas Baby
I never wanted to have a baby born around Christmas. I don't why. Maybe lots of people feel that way just because of the hecticness of the holiday and not wanting the birthday celebration to get lost in the shuffle. Maybe it was from having a Mom with a late December birthday who often talked about feeling short-changed with a birthday that time of year. I don't why- but in all my dreaming and scheming in my head I have always avoided the possibility of a December baby.
Until infertility. and miscarriages. and life in the detours.
We have scheduled our FET. We actually scheduled, cancelled and scheduled it again. The first time the husband got cold feet. We pulled back and he quickly came around and so we scheduled it again. I knew in the back of my head that we'd be looking at a due date in late December- but the priority was a) finding a day the lab had an opening, b) making sure it worked with my work schedule, the husbands work schedule, and arranging childcare. for our now 16 1/2 month old daughter. And, I just am done being patient. I want to try our luck with our Frozens and see what happens. I was done waiting any longer. I want, and NEED to know if we will ever have a second child.
Our transfer date is set. Been cleared through all the steps. Been taking lupron/birthcontrol. Everything looked great at my suppression check yesterday. A couple more weeks of prepping my lining, two more visits to the clinic for blood work and another u/s. And it will be transfer day.
There is a hope, and a joy, and an excitement that is just bubbling in me that I can't contain. Maybe it is the relief that comes with actually DOING something- sure, that something is nightly injections. But we have a plan in place. Maybe it comes from ill-placed confidence that the 1st time worked, surely the 2nd try will work. I don't know why the hope, but it is there. And I just am excited.
There, as always, are so many hurdles between now and bringing a baby home that, even after doing this previously, I can't wrap my head around the end point yet. We have no control over how this will go. None.
But what I do know? What is certain, is that if, IF, this embryo sticks and thrives, its due date will be ......December 25th.
And in my mind, it couldn't be a more perfect day. Oh, how infertility changes us.
Until infertility. and miscarriages. and life in the detours.
We have scheduled our FET. We actually scheduled, cancelled and scheduled it again. The first time the husband got cold feet. We pulled back and he quickly came around and so we scheduled it again. I knew in the back of my head that we'd be looking at a due date in late December- but the priority was a) finding a day the lab had an opening, b) making sure it worked with my work schedule, the husbands work schedule, and arranging childcare. for our now 16 1/2 month old daughter. And, I just am done being patient. I want to try our luck with our Frozens and see what happens. I was done waiting any longer. I want, and NEED to know if we will ever have a second child.
Our transfer date is set. Been cleared through all the steps. Been taking lupron/birthcontrol. Everything looked great at my suppression check yesterday. A couple more weeks of prepping my lining, two more visits to the clinic for blood work and another u/s. And it will be transfer day.
There is a hope, and a joy, and an excitement that is just bubbling in me that I can't contain. Maybe it is the relief that comes with actually DOING something- sure, that something is nightly injections. But we have a plan in place. Maybe it comes from ill-placed confidence that the 1st time worked, surely the 2nd try will work. I don't know why the hope, but it is there. And I just am excited.
There, as always, are so many hurdles between now and bringing a baby home that, even after doing this previously, I can't wrap my head around the end point yet. We have no control over how this will go. None.
But what I do know? What is certain, is that if, IF, this embryo sticks and thrives, its due date will be ......December 25th.
And in my mind, it couldn't be a more perfect day. Oh, how infertility changes us.
Monday, January 28, 2013
A Year Older
I am a year older. I celebrated my birthday this week.
It was my second birthday as a mom. But to be honest, I don't remember much about my birthday last year. My daughter would have only been two 1/2 months old, and i probably was, well I know I was, still in the fog of breastfeeding/sleep deprivation/new parenting.
This year, we didn't do much. We just were together as a family. And the gratitude spilled over in tears a couple times during the day. I love my daughter. I love my husband interacting with her. I have loved every age so far, but this age (almost 15 months) is really fun. She is just getting smarter and wittier every day. And she is showing compassion. Which melts my heart. I am in love in a bizillions ways.
My husband has been less ready than I to embark on TTC#2. He feels overwhelmed sometimes just keeping our family of 3 afloat. And I agree. Rationally, I agree. It doesn't compute how we'd manage a second child. But I really feel strongly about having kids close together in age. I felt a distance with my sister (3 1/2 years apart). So I have it in my head, I want (if possible) to have them closer. I also feel like I have put my career on hold, just working part-time here and there, and some day I will need to return to more lucrative income, but hoping to wait until Elementary school age. So having them close together makes good financial sense for us. My husband and I are also getting older. We just are.
He has come around though. So much so that we have a date penciled on the calendar for our embryo transfer that he agreed with. We have two frozen. So maybe two tries. And then we are likely done. Likely. I have typed and deleted this paragraph numerous times. I am still not sure I am ready to return to it all- appointments, prodding, decisions, paying out of pocket, waiting, hoping, waiting... I scheduled and then cancelled my required Hysteroscopy several weeks ago. I called today after much procrastinating and rescheduled it for two weeks from now. They could of seen me this Thursday- but that was too quick for me. I need to take this slow.
If I can wrap my head and heart around this in time. IF the hysteroscopy is normal. IF my bloodwork is normal. IF the lab has an opening, IF....then we are aiming for transfer on March 29.
If.
It was my second birthday as a mom. But to be honest, I don't remember much about my birthday last year. My daughter would have only been two 1/2 months old, and i probably was, well I know I was, still in the fog of breastfeeding/sleep deprivation/new parenting.
This year, we didn't do much. We just were together as a family. And the gratitude spilled over in tears a couple times during the day. I love my daughter. I love my husband interacting with her. I have loved every age so far, but this age (almost 15 months) is really fun. She is just getting smarter and wittier every day. And she is showing compassion. Which melts my heart. I am in love in a bizillions ways.
My husband has been less ready than I to embark on TTC#2. He feels overwhelmed sometimes just keeping our family of 3 afloat. And I agree. Rationally, I agree. It doesn't compute how we'd manage a second child. But I really feel strongly about having kids close together in age. I felt a distance with my sister (3 1/2 years apart). So I have it in my head, I want (if possible) to have them closer. I also feel like I have put my career on hold, just working part-time here and there, and some day I will need to return to more lucrative income, but hoping to wait until Elementary school age. So having them close together makes good financial sense for us. My husband and I are also getting older. We just are.
He has come around though. So much so that we have a date penciled on the calendar for our embryo transfer that he agreed with. We have two frozen. So maybe two tries. And then we are likely done. Likely. I have typed and deleted this paragraph numerous times. I am still not sure I am ready to return to it all- appointments, prodding, decisions, paying out of pocket, waiting, hoping, waiting... I scheduled and then cancelled my required Hysteroscopy several weeks ago. I called today after much procrastinating and rescheduled it for two weeks from now. They could of seen me this Thursday- but that was too quick for me. I need to take this slow.
If I can wrap my head and heart around this in time. IF the hysteroscopy is normal. IF my bloodwork is normal. IF the lab has an opening, IF....then we are aiming for transfer on March 29.
If.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
1 year later
I am overwhelmed today with the beauty of my daughter.
We celebrated her 1st birthday a few weeks ago. It was a beautiful celebration of life. We invited our "village." The amazing amazing family and friends that have surrounded us as we have been raising our daughter in her first 365 days of life.
And more tears have fallen in the past couple of weeks then in all of the first year of her life. They are tears of.... I don't know... probably a mix of joy but also probably some tears of grief and relief.
Her 1st birthday was much more than a celebration of her 1st year of life, it was much more than a celebration of the amazing village that loves her and has loved her even before she was born. For me, it was the anniversary of the end to the darkness and the beginning of a new chapter. And the beauty that flows out of this new chapter is so hard to fathom, it brings me to my knees.
I have said it here before, and I will say it again- holding a child in my arms is not the cure all for all of life's woes, nor does it erase the pain and woundedness of years of loss and infertility, but the profound joy that trickled into my world like a ocean wave the day she has born has only continued to multiple. the joy is uncontainable.
Her birth for me was the end of a very dark journey, one that I wish no one knew. But a journey that forever will be my story and will be part of the fabric of who I am. The days, weeks, months, and years of longing often brought me to the edge wondering if I could take it any longer. The waiting upon waiting...without knowing how it would end broke me in ways that I shudder to remember.
And yet, I did not break. Instead, who I am today is a delicate interwoven story of strength, joy, and gratitude that well up from those near broken places in me.
I know without a doubt that infertility gave me a gift- a gift that allows me to hold my daughter with a bit more intensely, knowing how long she was longed for. It gave me a gift of awareness that no matter how frequently and easily others seem to announce they are pregnant (again), that I know that every life that comes to be is a miracle too big to comprehend. And it will take a lifetime I think to even begin to comprehend the miracle that runs into my arms each day with slobbery kisses and wonderful hugs.
We celebrated her 1st birthday a few weeks ago. It was a beautiful celebration of life. We invited our "village." The amazing amazing family and friends that have surrounded us as we have been raising our daughter in her first 365 days of life.
And more tears have fallen in the past couple of weeks then in all of the first year of her life. They are tears of.... I don't know... probably a mix of joy but also probably some tears of grief and relief.
Her 1st birthday was much more than a celebration of her 1st year of life, it was much more than a celebration of the amazing village that loves her and has loved her even before she was born. For me, it was the anniversary of the end to the darkness and the beginning of a new chapter. And the beauty that flows out of this new chapter is so hard to fathom, it brings me to my knees.
I have said it here before, and I will say it again- holding a child in my arms is not the cure all for all of life's woes, nor does it erase the pain and woundedness of years of loss and infertility, but the profound joy that trickled into my world like a ocean wave the day she has born has only continued to multiple. the joy is uncontainable.
Her birth for me was the end of a very dark journey, one that I wish no one knew. But a journey that forever will be my story and will be part of the fabric of who I am. The days, weeks, months, and years of longing often brought me to the edge wondering if I could take it any longer. The waiting upon waiting...without knowing how it would end broke me in ways that I shudder to remember.
And yet, I did not break. Instead, who I am today is a delicate interwoven story of strength, joy, and gratitude that well up from those near broken places in me.
I know without a doubt that infertility gave me a gift- a gift that allows me to hold my daughter with a bit more intensely, knowing how long she was longed for. It gave me a gift of awareness that no matter how frequently and easily others seem to announce they are pregnant (again), that I know that every life that comes to be is a miracle too big to comprehend. And it will take a lifetime I think to even begin to comprehend the miracle that runs into my arms each day with slobbery kisses and wonderful hugs.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Doing it all over again
When we were going through the dark and ugly journey of multiple miscarriages- there were several times my husband and I said, "we just can't do this again."
And through the month and years of IF, I would look back on the road behind us after month after month of TTC failed- and I would say to my husband "I don't know if I can keep doing this."
As much as I longed to be pregnant, and as beautiful as it was to finally experience it, I felt rotten, miserable, horrid for almost the full 40 weeks. And I said over and over again to anyone and everyone "I just can't do this again."
And now, now that I have smelled, and held, and kissed the chubby cheeks of Baby girl, all I can say, all I can think about is that "I want to do this all over once again."
She is 5 months old and there hasn't been a week (or day...) that has passed without me thinking to myself that I want to do this again- and soon. I want another child. I want to be pregnant again. I want to give birth again.
I never thought I'd be one of those moms that wanted children close together- but it is almost all I think about.
But I have gotten a little bit cocky, I think. I think about it, and plan for it- as if it is an absolute. And nothing is for certain in this long long road of IF.
we have two frozen babes on ice. And I am certain those emb-babies are what are contributing to my cockiness. I KNOW we have two more tries. And given we got pregnant and had a RLB with just one fresh IVF cycle, my logic assumes one of those frozen babes will be the magic ticket to number two.
But the doubt is there. the grief still bubbles slowly and quietly up. I know there are no guarantees. I know I have no control.
I dont' know how I'll handle if one of those two don't stick. I haven't begun to let it sink in that this may be the one and only in my arms. But I'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
I'm hoping come Fall, or for sure early winter, to try for #2. DH still needs some time to warm up to the idea of doing it that soon- so I am being patient to let him sit with the idea.
But one way or another- I want to do it all over again. I do. It is worth it to me the risk of more heartache. So worth it.
And through the month and years of IF, I would look back on the road behind us after month after month of TTC failed- and I would say to my husband "I don't know if I can keep doing this."
As much as I longed to be pregnant, and as beautiful as it was to finally experience it, I felt rotten, miserable, horrid for almost the full 40 weeks. And I said over and over again to anyone and everyone "I just can't do this again."
And now, now that I have smelled, and held, and kissed the chubby cheeks of Baby girl, all I can say, all I can think about is that "I want to do this all over once again."
She is 5 months old and there hasn't been a week (or day...) that has passed without me thinking to myself that I want to do this again- and soon. I want another child. I want to be pregnant again. I want to give birth again.
I never thought I'd be one of those moms that wanted children close together- but it is almost all I think about.
But I have gotten a little bit cocky, I think. I think about it, and plan for it- as if it is an absolute. And nothing is for certain in this long long road of IF.
we have two frozen babes on ice. And I am certain those emb-babies are what are contributing to my cockiness. I KNOW we have two more tries. And given we got pregnant and had a RLB with just one fresh IVF cycle, my logic assumes one of those frozen babes will be the magic ticket to number two.
But the doubt is there. the grief still bubbles slowly and quietly up. I know there are no guarantees. I know I have no control.
I dont' know how I'll handle if one of those two don't stick. I haven't begun to let it sink in that this may be the one and only in my arms. But I'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
I'm hoping come Fall, or for sure early winter, to try for #2. DH still needs some time to warm up to the idea of doing it that soon- so I am being patient to let him sit with the idea.
But one way or another- I want to do it all over again. I do. It is worth it to me the risk of more heartache. So worth it.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
It is April.
It is April today. The month of March is gone. It came and went without fanfare. For the first time in 5 years, March came...and went...and I didn't even notice. It wasn't until today, as I flipped open my April calendar that I realized the significance.
There were no tears shed this March. None.
There was no grief that left me gasping for air. None.
There was no emptiness. None.
There has not been a March in the past 5 years that wasn't gut wrenching.
March 2008 we grieved the shock and devastation of our first miscarriage, March 2009 brought out second miscarriage, March 2010- the agony of more trying and waiting and nothing. March 2011- we finally saw our first heartbeat, and we cried, and held our breath to see what would come.
March 2012- came and went without a second glance, and it can only be that that emptiness is healing, and with healing comes contentness.
I know I haven't written in ages. I know I owe you a birth story and pictures. I still think of this space all the time. I don't know what to write most of the time.
I don't want to sound like having a baby is a cure all. I don't want to imply that our daughter in our arms washed away all the agonizing years of infertility and loss. I don't ever want to in any way discount that the past 5 years were absolutely gut wrenching- and I would be doing a disservice to myself and anyone who has walked that road if I were to in anyway imply that a child, and only a child heals those wounds.
But...
I never thought I would ever be able to pass through the month of March without a second glance. I always thought it would tear me apart in some way.
But it didn't. And the joy I feel being a mom surpasses anything i could have ever imagined. It is that good.
There were no tears shed this March. None.
There was no grief that left me gasping for air. None.
There was no emptiness. None.
There has not been a March in the past 5 years that wasn't gut wrenching.
March 2008 we grieved the shock and devastation of our first miscarriage, March 2009 brought out second miscarriage, March 2010- the agony of more trying and waiting and nothing. March 2011- we finally saw our first heartbeat, and we cried, and held our breath to see what would come.
March 2012- came and went without a second glance, and it can only be that that emptiness is healing, and with healing comes contentness.
I know I haven't written in ages. I know I owe you a birth story and pictures. I still think of this space all the time. I don't know what to write most of the time.
I don't want to sound like having a baby is a cure all. I don't want to imply that our daughter in our arms washed away all the agonizing years of infertility and loss. I don't ever want to in any way discount that the past 5 years were absolutely gut wrenching- and I would be doing a disservice to myself and anyone who has walked that road if I were to in anyway imply that a child, and only a child heals those wounds.
But...
I never thought I would ever be able to pass through the month of March without a second glance. I always thought it would tear me apart in some way.
But it didn't. And the joy I feel being a mom surpasses anything i could have ever imagined. It is that good.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Diagnosis Day
One year ago today, we got our diagnosis.
Endometriosis.
That unexpected diagnosis changed the rules of the game and we unexpectedly headed straight to IVF/ICSI.
One year later, as I type this, baby girl is sleeping on my chest. And as I feel the weight of her little body on me, and feel the softness of her wispy hair on her tiny little head, I am in awe that we are here. Four long years, but we are here. It was a scary decision to jump into IVF- scary physically, emotionally, and financially. But I am so glad we did. There are no words.
Endometriosis.
That unexpected diagnosis changed the rules of the game and we unexpectedly headed straight to IVF/ICSI.
One year later, as I type this, baby girl is sleeping on my chest. And as I feel the weight of her little body on me, and feel the softness of her wispy hair on her tiny little head, I am in awe that we are here. Four long years, but we are here. It was a scary decision to jump into IVF- scary physically, emotionally, and financially. But I am so glad we did. There are no words.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Mastitis= cursing and absolute discouragement
Double Mastitis.
Which is just the icing on the cake of a long two weeks worth of a bazillion hurdles and barriers to breastfeeding. Where my motivation to stick with it is coming from, is beyond me. I have no idea why I haven't thrown in the towel. I am SO done with this mess in so many ways, but also am devastated by the idea of giving up.
Baby is fighting the breast right now. Pumping volume is dismal. We are barely hanging on.
And the thing that angers me is that the exhaustion and frustration I feel is robbing me of precious minutes with my baby girl. I want to enjoy and revel in every minute I can with her. And instead I am sore, tired, frustrated, and she is confused and fussy.
I don't know what will happen next. I am NOT ready to consider giving this up.
On the positive side- we weighed her today at the midwife clinic just to see how she was doing (she was really slow to gain weight in the first few days) and to my surprise she is now pretty much on track to regaining her birth weight in the two week period they want to see. So, struggle as we might (and we ARE!) at least she is getting what she needs, some how, some way.
I'd much rather be writing her birth story or cuddling her in our new moby wrap rather than venting about breast feeding.
"Breast is best". F&#k that. Why is it so frickin' hard then?
Which is just the icing on the cake of a long two weeks worth of a bazillion hurdles and barriers to breastfeeding. Where my motivation to stick with it is coming from, is beyond me. I have no idea why I haven't thrown in the towel. I am SO done with this mess in so many ways, but also am devastated by the idea of giving up.
Baby is fighting the breast right now. Pumping volume is dismal. We are barely hanging on.
And the thing that angers me is that the exhaustion and frustration I feel is robbing me of precious minutes with my baby girl. I want to enjoy and revel in every minute I can with her. And instead I am sore, tired, frustrated, and she is confused and fussy.
I don't know what will happen next. I am NOT ready to consider giving this up.
On the positive side- we weighed her today at the midwife clinic just to see how she was doing (she was really slow to gain weight in the first few days) and to my surprise she is now pretty much on track to regaining her birth weight in the two week period they want to see. So, struggle as we might (and we ARE!) at least she is getting what she needs, some how, some way.
I'd much rather be writing her birth story or cuddling her in our new moby wrap rather than venting about breast feeding.
"Breast is best". F&#k that. Why is it so frickin' hard then?
Saturday, November 12, 2011
1 week later- Update Post Pregnancy
I thought I would do one more Weekly Update as to life after to pregnancy, similar to the weekly updates I posted throughout - (and birth story is in the process of being written, as well as I'll post her name and more pics soon).
Maternity Clothes? Since the birth, I've lived in yoga pants and nursing tank tops. Grateful to have everything (from my maternity wardrobe at least) fitting with a bit more room. Since my milk has come in, we are going to have to reassess bras and shirts as the volume of the girls has grown!
Weight Gain? All in all I gained 41 pounds. Far more than I had planned, but in the end I just don't feel like there was a whole lot differently I could have done about it. 1 week post birth I have lost 18 pounds.
Stretch Marks? None at all which still amazes me. I have a slight linea nigra, but very light.
Sleep? Last night was the first night that I can say that I felt sleep deprived. During this past week I think thanks to adrenaline I am sure, I have just soaked up every minute of this time and haven't minded in the least bit that I am barely sleeping. I am just now starting to be better about trying to sleep when she does.
Best Moment of the Week? Her birth, her smell, her soft head, her squeaks, the visitors, her newborn photo session, the weight of her as she sleeps on my chest, watching DH melt in her presence, the overwhelming outpouring of joy from our friends and family, the influx of "pink" pouring into our house. Everything.
Movement? I had a few phantom "kicks" in the first 24 hours, where it felt like it used to feel when she was in me.
Food Cravings? Oh,joy of joys! food is no longer my foe. It tastes good again, really good. Doesn't give me heartburn. So grateful.
Gender? All girl! I was shocked- I think I had prepared mentally for a boy.
What i miss? Oh, this is hard to answer. My first gut response? Nothing, I miss nothing about being pregnant. I will never ever take for granted my pregnancy and don't want to sound ungrateful. I would do it 100 times over to get to this place. It just really wasn't easy at all for me. I felt sick or in pain for almost the whole 40 weeks. The relief I felt (and still feel), both physcially, and emotionally, about no longer being pregnant was so instantaneouns when she was born.
I hoped my wedding rings would fit by now- they still don't. :( I miss wearing them.
Symptoms: Pregnancy symptoms G-O-N-E. Completely.
Looking forward to: Everything. Every second of the day. Right now we are hunkering down and staying at home at least until Monday (1st midwife appointment post-partum). But i am starting to get excited about going out in public for the first time with her.
Weekly Wisdom: "Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us..." Ephesians 3.20
Milestones: I am a mom. Enough said.
Emotions: Pure Joy. Pure Contentness. And surprisingly feeling more confident about my mom role than I thought I would feel.
Maternity Clothes? Since the birth, I've lived in yoga pants and nursing tank tops. Grateful to have everything (from my maternity wardrobe at least) fitting with a bit more room. Since my milk has come in, we are going to have to reassess bras and shirts as the volume of the girls has grown!
Weight Gain? All in all I gained 41 pounds. Far more than I had planned, but in the end I just don't feel like there was a whole lot differently I could have done about it. 1 week post birth I have lost 18 pounds.
Stretch Marks? None at all which still amazes me. I have a slight linea nigra, but very light.
Sleep? Last night was the first night that I can say that I felt sleep deprived. During this past week I think thanks to adrenaline I am sure, I have just soaked up every minute of this time and haven't minded in the least bit that I am barely sleeping. I am just now starting to be better about trying to sleep when she does.
Best Moment of the Week? Her birth, her smell, her soft head, her squeaks, the visitors, her newborn photo session, the weight of her as she sleeps on my chest, watching DH melt in her presence, the overwhelming outpouring of joy from our friends and family, the influx of "pink" pouring into our house. Everything.
Movement? I had a few phantom "kicks" in the first 24 hours, where it felt like it used to feel when she was in me.
Food Cravings? Oh,joy of joys! food is no longer my foe. It tastes good again, really good. Doesn't give me heartburn. So grateful.
Gender? All girl! I was shocked- I think I had prepared mentally for a boy.
What i miss? Oh, this is hard to answer. My first gut response? Nothing, I miss nothing about being pregnant. I will never ever take for granted my pregnancy and don't want to sound ungrateful. I would do it 100 times over to get to this place. It just really wasn't easy at all for me. I felt sick or in pain for almost the whole 40 weeks. The relief I felt (and still feel), both physcially, and emotionally, about no longer being pregnant was so instantaneouns when she was born.
I hoped my wedding rings would fit by now- they still don't. :( I miss wearing them.
Symptoms: Pregnancy symptoms G-O-N-E. Completely.
Looking forward to: Everything. Every second of the day. Right now we are hunkering down and staying at home at least until Monday (1st midwife appointment post-partum). But i am starting to get excited about going out in public for the first time with her.
Weekly Wisdom: "Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us..." Ephesians 3.20
Milestones: I am a mom. Enough said.
Emotions: Pure Joy. Pure Contentness. And surprisingly feeling more confident about my mom role than I thought I would feel.
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