Oddly Therapeutic.

About 2 year ago I began searching for a hobby. I am a substitute teacher that spends most of my time as a stay at home wife. I work only occasionally outside of the home, so I was looking to learn something new. My aunt is a very talented seamstress and offered to teach me a thing or two about how to work the sewing machine I had recently received for Christmas. Much to my surprise, once I learned a few basics I was set and ready to start creating.

When I first started learning to sew we were just about to start trying to get pregnant. I was dreaming of all the sweet things I would be able to start making in just a few short months for the baby that we surely would be expecting in no time. Ha.

Since then, I’ve made a gazillion baby blankets, burp cloths and booties for gifts and I find it oddly therapeutic. I know, it sounds crazy. How would making baby things make being barren any easier? Honestly, I have no idea. Maybe it is because with all of this practice, by the time I am making things for my own little growing babe I will most certainly be a pro. Or perhaps it is because throwing myself completely into the designing and creating process leaves me no time (at least for a few hours) to think about any struggle that doesn’t include thread, rotary cutters or matching fabrics.

I am thankful for the outlet.

Even Jesus Wept.

I recently purchased a book about dealing with infertility. It isn’t your typical go-to guide about treatments and diagnosis, but instead it is excerpts of people’s lives that have dealt with infertility on some level. The book is called Empty Womb, Aching Heart by Marlo Schalesky.
When I asked my husband to add this book to his order he was pained by the title. Even when he brought it home to me, he was concerned about how hard the book would be to read. As we sat on the couch, him watching TV and me reading this book, he looked over at me and questioned, “Sad?” For me this book isn’t sad, it is real. It is everything that I am dealing with on a daily basis. It is a reminder that better days will come, that we’re not alone and most importantly it is a reminder that while this journey is hard, it will only be harder if we feel sorry for ourselves and stop living our lives because it hurts too much.

I only have had this book in my hot little hands for a little more than 36 hours and I am already halfway through it. The pages are littered with post-it notes and words that I want to remember. Undoubtedly, there will be more posts to come on this topic, but for today let’s start at the beginning….

My first neon green post-it note reads:

“Even Jesus wept.”

As Christians we are taught to be thankful for the blessings that we’ve been given by the grace of God. Sometimes although we are thankful for the blessing we have received, we are pained by the ones that have seemingly gone unnoticed. In these moments I find myself feeling guilty that the gifts that I’ve been given are not enough. Like a spoiled child on Christmas morning, I run to my room sobbing that yet another month has passed and I am still not pregnant.

In this excerpt from the book the woman realizes that she isn’t crying out because she wants something so much it hurts. Instead she is crying out in grief much like Jesus did when Lazerus died. Jesus felt grief and wept even though he knew he would raise Lazerus from the dead, he still grieved the loss.

The tears of infertility are tears of grief. Our hearts are grieving the loss of children that we wanted and prayed for that haven’t come. The pain is not insignificant.

Which brings me to my second post-it note….

“I’ve come to realize that God understands my tears, and that they don’t fall to the ground unnoticed.”

He knows our pain and meets us in the midst of it.

Perfect.

There are a few IF blogs that I read pretty frequently. It is nice to read about other people who are transversing the same mountain that we are. It is good to hear where they are in the climb and how they are dealing with the conditions. In addition, there is the inspiration that comes from the tender words they write and the camaraderie that you feel just knowing that there really is someone else in your shoes.

This morning I clicked over to Growing Our Own Garden and it her post today was just what I needed to hear. It wasn't the words crafted by her that got me, it was a devotion that she shared that reminded me of the beauty that will surely come from this struggle. Someday.

He is right.

On hard days I always sit back and remember the words my husband said to me one particularly difficult day…

Someday you will be somebody’s Mommy. That doesn’t change the fact that the time between now and then will be hard, it will. It doesn’t matter if our baby is one that we make together or one that finds us. Somewhere there is a baby that needs us just as much as we need it. It will happen. Believe that it will. KNOW that it will. Stop saying maybe, and say YES.

These words make my day, bring tears to my eyes and remind me of all of the reasons that I love him. He is compassionate, loving and he gets me. Even in my most irrational moments he sits quietly and listens to my sobs whispering “someday.”

He is right.

YES, someday!

Things are lookin' up.

For the first time in six months I woke up this morning feeling great on cycle day 4. Typically I wake feeling sick to my stomach with a killer headache. Not today, there is no Clomid in my body to make me feel like death walking. I am going to enjoy this healthy feeling while I still can because I am sure once I see a RE I will be back on some sort of fertility drug in no time. Cross your fingers for my husband’s sake that it doesn’t come in the form of an injection. :)

For now, I am just hoping that I ovulate on my own this cycle so it isn’t totally lost. However, I am still ok with the fact that I probably will not. I need a break from both the physical and emotional pain and exhaustion. I am tired. I thought for sure once I reached the point in my cycle where typically I had already had some sort of intervention (drugs) I would be disappointed that I wasn’t doing something. I am not. Don’t get me wrong, I still think about it night and day, but I have a new peace about the situation, and I am not taking it for granted.

Breaks are good.

Again

Once again I find myself at cycle day one. For some reason it isn’t as hard this time. Maybe it is because I have come to expect disappointment or maybe it’s because I could see it coming, either way its here. My body feels horrible today. I am aching all over, sick to my stomach and have a headache that may or may not leave me completely blind by the end of the day.

I guess it is time, time to call my doctor. Instead of asking for my clomid, it is time to ask for a referral. I am not going to do it today; it can wait until next week.

I need a break.

An unlikely metephor.

I ran into this quote today, and it was exactly what I needed to hear. No one said it would be easy, but at least I know that it WILL be worth it. Every single tear I shed and every ounce of pain I feel...

God didn't promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, comfort for the tears, and light for the way.

After waking up this morning to a lower temperature than I was hoping to see, I was (and maybe still am) in a funk. I found a couple Christmas movies on TV and settled in to spend the day feeling sorry for myself. But then I read this. It reminded me to get things in perspective.

Although we’ve been waiting for what seems like a REALLY long time, there are couples who have been waiting MUCH longer. And although it hurts like crazy and is a pain that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, for me, infertility is kind of like living in Oregon. It takes months and months of rain and gray sky to make us appreciate the sun and warm spring and summer days. For us, it has been winter for over a year, but there is always the promise of spring, it WILL come. Someday.

Another one bites the dust.

Until last week I had kept our journey pretty quiet. We had told a couple of people, but for the most part they’ve been people who are pretty removed from our family. Just last week a good friend of mine (and my cousin’s sister-in-law) confided in me that her and her husband had been struggling to get pregnant and were in their first round of clomid. In an effort to lend a comforting ear and a little advice, I shared our story. It felt good to say it out loud and not have to hide how I was feeling. It also made it feel like there was purpose behind the struggle. I felt like if my heartache could help her deal with her own, it was in some tiny way worth it.

If you are or have been in this position, you know what is coming next. Yesterday, five days later, she found out that she is pregnant. Although I am thrilled for her, it still hurts just the same. Another one off to the races while I am still standing in the dust behind a locked gate, figures.

I am trying my best to stay positive. After all, this cycle isn’t even over yet. There is still a chance. A small chance, but a chance just the same. I am feeling pretty confident that the best next move is to just take a month off. I want to enjoy Christmas and not be thinking about the what-if. The reality is that I likely won’t ovulate without meds, but right now I am OK with that. Then, once the holidays are over, I might be ready to see an RE.

Rear View Mirror

For the past couple of years my husband and I have been talking about getting a new car. We've both been driving our college commuter cars, and to be honest they are on their way out. They both have several problems and things that should be fixed, but instead we just keep driving them.

Awhile ago, we decided on the car we would buy once we were ready to make the purchase.... an Outback. This was back before we knew it would be FOREVER before we had babies. I settled on this car dreaming of car seats and family vacations, and while it is still my car of choice, I just can't do it. We have recently had several set backs with both of our cars and nearly EVERYONE we know has told us that we need to buy a new car.

It is just too hard right now, and I don't want to do it. This infertility thing is hard enough without looking in the rear view mirror of a STATION WAGON and not seeing car seats.

I just can't do it.

I'm not there yet.

Thankful.

Today I am feeling thankful for the life I am living. I've been blessed in so many ways, and often choose to dwell on the areas where I haven't been blessed just yet. So, in honor of one of my favorite times of year, here is my list of things I'm thankful for today in no particular order.....

A husband who meets me where I am on a daily basis. My range of emotions is huge these days, and he ALWAYS does his best to understand and be there for me.

A spike in my BBT this morning. Just like any good infertile woman, my mood is following suit!

The return of hopeful feelings.

A home that is perfect for just the two of us. I'm glad we went with a smaller house, a bigger home would feel so empty without babies.

Insurance. Better insurance than most people facing this struggle have. Although I hope and pray that we wont need the covered treatments, I am glad to know that it is an option.

My husband's job. He is the provider for our family, which allows me to be at home. It means the world to me that my dream of being home with our kids will be a reality someday.

My faith. There is no way I could face each new day of this battle without the strength that comes from it. It calms my heart. It reminds me to trust and have faith. It reminds that there is a plan for me, one that I am not the author of.

A Room with a Purpose.

When we found our home I quickly chose the room we would someday (hopefully) use for a nursery. Before we moved into the house I considered leaving the room empty, or at least not filling it to the brim and hanging things on the walls. But as moving day approached, and I wasn’t pregnant, I decided to throw caution to the wind and fill the room with the things that make me happy now in the midst of the pain and suffering that is infertility.

I sew in that room, I read in that room, I dream in that room, I write this blog in that room, and I pray for babies in that room.

The room, like my life, is full. It is a constant reminder of what I don’t have, but it also reminds me that I am abundantly blessed and shouldn't take any of it for granted. Someday this room will have a new purpose, but for now it makes the journey a little easier.

Thrilling.

My heart flutters, my breathing seems off and a huge smile washes over my face...

It is positive.

It is two pink lines.

It is thrilling.

It is an ovulation test.

Maybe it's because it is a sight that I long to see (on a HPT), or maybe it's because it is an indication that my lady parts are indeed functioning properly or better yet perhaps it is because I absolutely hate to fail and when it comes to getting pregnant, the only test I can pass is an OPK. I don't think I can portray the excitement any better than Carla Tate does in this clip (please excuse the poor quality it is the only one I could find.)

The joy is so raw, uninhibited. Most of the time I feel a little more like Daniel, but on the day I see that positive result, I feel like Carla in her swan costume... accomplished!

If this is thrilling, what will the real thing be like?

Ornament Tradition

Before my husband and I were married, we started a tradition of buying each other a Christmas ornament each year. Some years we’ve each just picked something that the other would like, while others we try to purchase something that would remind us of that particular year. I’ve already bought his ornament for this Christmas and it is reminiscent of the past year.

Recently, while I was thinking about the ornament I bought, I began thinking about what he might buy me this year. Sure something house or sewing related would be fitting, but my thoughts went somewhere else completely. The ornament that I was picturing was the metallic kind that seems to come in every shape imaginable, except maybe the shape I was thinking about. I couldn’t get it out of my head; it was a uterus complete with fallopian tubes and ovaries. Although it would be fitting and downright funny, it might be a bit tricky to explain to our family and our future children!

OPKs...

who knew it would be so hard? I mean seriously, I can usually hold it like it is my JOB. When I substitute teach I typically don’t use the restroom for an entire day, yet for the 7 days a month that I test LH (luteinizing hormone) by dipping an OPK into a cup of urine, it is darn near impossible for me to hold it for a measly four hours.

Just add one more thing to the list of TTC antics that make me feel just a tad insane. Oh well, someday it will be worth it.

Breaking Point.

There has to be one, and I think I'm almost there. I am pretty much terrified of the holiday season. It is inevitable that someone will ask us when we are going to have kids, it happens every year, and until now I brushed it off with a giggle. It isn’t that easy anymore. Now it feels like a dagger. I am nervous beyond belief that one of these days it is just going to be too much and I am going to make a fool of myself by screaming at the top of my lungs…

“Stop asking. It is NONE of your business, but if you must know we’ve been trying for X amount of months and I’ve tried XYZ treatments. It is painfully hard, and every time you ask I die a little more inside. MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS.”

I can’t promise that in the moment it wouldn’t also be littered with expletives, but I can promise anyone within ear shot would think I was certifiably crazy. Cross your fingers with me that I make it to 2010 with my dignity.

Skipping Christmas

Although it sounds like a great idea this year, I don’t think I have the guts to actually do it. I don’t mean that I would like to skip Christmas all together, but staying home this year and enjoying it with my husband sounds like a nice change. Maybe it is because I am already dreading all of the questions that inevitably come at holiday gatherings, or the near constant talk about the new babies in our family, or maybe it is because I feel like the only person I can truly be myself around these days is my husband. It would be nice not to pretend on my favorite holiday of the year.


Sound pathetic? I agree. I should buck up. I have a choice to make; I can either choose joy or choose to be sad and resentful of my family. Although the first choice sounds much more appealing on a logical level, the latter is a little more realistic of where I am at right now. I am not interested in pretending. I am sad, and I am tired of smiling about it.

I've got nothing.

I’ve been trying for the past hour to write something worth reading, but I just can’t do it. So, instead of forgetting all of the topics in which I was attempting to write, I will just post a list of things that are coming once I can actually have a creative thought….

OPKs- who knew it would be so hard?

Skipping Christmas- I don’t have the guts, but I would LOVE to.

Breaking Point- there has to be one, and I think I am close.

Oddly Therapeutic.

Chocolate Milk is my cure-all.

If you want to make me mad, try this.

If this is thrilling, what will the real thing be like?

Emotionally Exhausted

Ornament Tradition

How much is too much?

Take your advice, and stuff it.

So many great ideas, but as I wrote it all sounded rather boring. It is a rainy cold day; perhaps once I’ve got some chores done I will sit down again and make another attempt at a witty post.

UP

I just watched the movie for a second time, and loved it just as much as the first. I found myself fighting back tears in the beginning of the story while the young couple was struggling with infertility. I walk in those shoes everyday, I understand the pain. To see it portrayed in animation makes it seem that much more common to me, I’m not alone.

Although infertility is most bluntly portrayed at the beginning of the film, it is certainly a theme throughout. In a movie that is constantly on the move, you can pick out the places where Carl and Ellie’s childless life and struggle with infertility are being referenced by noticing the stillness. It begins after the scene in the doctor’s office; Ellie is outside sitting still with her eyes closed. I am guessing that both children and those who have not struggled with IF may not notice the ongoing theme, but for me, I felt what Carl and Ellie were feeling in those moments and connected with them.

Infertility isn’t something that is neat and tidy. It can’t be packaged into one moment in time and then forgotten, it changes you. It morphs your view on so many things, and I think that the writers did a fabulous job portraying that.

The story is not just one of heartache and loss, it is one of hope. Although Carl and Ellie’s life doesn’t end up as they had dreamed, we know in the end that they did have a pretty fantastic life. At the end of the movie Carl sits down in his chair and looks back at the Adventure Book. It isn’t until then, in the stillness, that he realizes what he did have was great despite the things that he didn’t.

It’s a tough hand of cards to be dealt, but with the right attitude sometimes the worst hand takes the pot.

I will hold you.

It seems fitting that I fell in love with this song yesterday afternoon, and last night I found myself wandering in the dark and pouring rain hand in hand with my husband….

When the Rain Comes

Third Day

When the rain comes

it seems that everyone has

gone away

When the night falls

you wonder if you shouldn't

find someplace

To run and hide

Escape the pain

But hiding's such a lonely thing to do

I can't stop the rain

from falling down on you again

I can't stop the rain

But I will hold you 'til it goes away

When the rain comes

you blame it on the things that

you have done

When the storm fades

you know that rain must fall

on everyone

Rest awhile

It'll be alright

No one loves you like I do

I can't stop the rain

from falling down on you again

I can't stop the rain

But I will hold you

I can't stop the rain

from falling down on you again

I can't stop the rain

But I will hold you 'til it goes away

When the rain comes

I will hold you

Simple.

Although I don't have the one thing that I long for more than anything, I do have a lot. A lot that I take for granted. Tonight my husband reminded me of that. What started out as an errand, turned into dinner, which turned into a walk in the rain. For a few moments tonight all of my worries melted away and I felt lucky. As we walked in the rain hand in hand life seemed so simple. For the first time in a long time, my thoughts were not consumed with IF (infertility), I was just happy. Pure and simple, happy. I need to spend more time being thankful for the things that are going right in my life, and let the things that aren't just slide for a little while. It's worth it. Joy is worth it.
Tonight I am thankful for a husband that takes me as I am each day. Tears or a smile, it doesn't matter to him. All that matters is that I am his. Someday he will be a fantastic Daddy. Someday.

Awesome.

Twenty trips to the bathroom and hot flashes. Clomid. Awesome.

On the brightside..... at least I'll be prepared for menopause.

It could be worse.  :)

Names.

I know, I know- get pregnant FIRST, then worry about names. Not to worry, I am not spending my days thinking of names for the babies that are not yet conceived. However, I have been spending a lot of time in prayer and reading my bible during the last few months. In that time I have become drawn to several names that I feel are now contenders for middle names. Someday.


Job, Micah, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Elizabeth, Hannah and Sarah

“By his light I walked through darkness”
- Job 29:3

“You will forget your misery; you will remember it as waters that have passed away”
- Job 11:16

“I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for my God my Savior; my God will hear me.”
- Micah 7:7

“The Lord longs to be gracious to you; he rises to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are those who wait for him.”
- Isaiah 30:18

“Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will help you. I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.”
- Isaiah 41:10

“For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord”
- Jeremiah 29:11

“Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him.”
- Jeremiah 17:7

The three female names I listed above are the three women in the bible that struggle with infertility- seems fitting.

Already?

I am guessing that it is another effect of the increased clomid dose, but seriously ovulation pain already? It is only cycle day 10 and righty is already giving me grief. It is probably wishful thinking, but I am going to assume it is just hurting because there is going to be a huge, lush egg released in a few days that is begging to be fertilized. Judging by the early pain I wouldn't be surprised if I ovulate a few days earlier this cycle. Thank goodness for OPKs!

My mood is lifting. I was terribly sad about this being my last cycle with my current doctors office, but I am realizing that it isn't the end of the world. However, I do think if I don't get pregnant this cycle I may like to take a little time before I jump on the RE (reproductive endocrinologist) bandwagon. The last 6 months of treatment have been an emotional roller coaster- maybe it would be a good idea to lay off the crack for the Christmas season? I don't know, I will probably change my mind about 50 times between now and then.
For now, this is where I am...

"Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him" Psalm 37:7

Trust.

I feel like there is a good reason why God hasn't blessed us a baby just yet. Even though I may not know what that reason is, I want to trust in Him.

I am at the point in this journey where it just seems like the suitcase I am dragging behind me is too heavy to drag any further (which is not uncharacteristic of me in the least bit.) I am thankful that I worship a God who is willing to pick me AND my suitcase up and carry us when life gets to be too much.

Maybe not better, but different....

I have no idea who wrote this,

I just ran into a few days ago when I was searching for something IF related...

Thoughts on Becoming a Mother
There are women who become mothers without effort,
without thought,without patience or loss,
and though they are good mothers
and love their children,
I know that I will be better.

I will be better not because of genetics or money
or because I have read more books,
but because I have struggled and toiled for this child.

I have longed and waited.
I have cried and prayed.
I have endured and planned
over and over again.

Like most things in life,
the people who truly have appreciation
are those who have struggled to attain their dreams.

I will notice everything about my child.
I will take time to watch my child sleep,
explore, and discover.
I will marvel at this miracle every day
for the rest of my life.

I will be happy when I wake
in the middle of the night to the sound of my child,
knowing that I can comfort, hold, and feed him
and that I am not waking to take another temperature,
pop another pill, take another shot
or cry tears of a broken dream.
My dream will be crying for me.

I count myself lucky in this sense;
that God has given me this insight,
this special vision
with which I will look upon my child.

Whether I parent a child I actually give birth to
or a child that God leads me to,
I will not be careless with my love.

I will be a better mother for all that I have endured.
I am a better wife, a better aunt, a better daughter,
neighbor, friend, and sister
because I have known pain.

I know disillusionment,
as I have been betrayed by my own body.
I have been tried by fire and hell that many never face,
yet given time, I stood tall.

I have prevailed.
I have succeeded.
I have won.

So now, when others hurt around me,
I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort.
I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs.
I listen.
And even though I cannot make it better,
I can make it less lonely.

I have learned the immense power
of another hand holding tight to mine,
of other eyes that moisten as they learn to
accept the harsh truth when life is beyond hard.

I have learned a compassion
that only comes by walking in those shoes.
I have learned to appreciate life.
Yes, I will be a wonderful mother. Someday.

I hate Clomid.

Nauseated.
Throbbing head.
Dizzy.
Starving, but nothing sounds or looks good.

I know, I should suck it up and remember that it will all be worth it, someday. But somedays, I would rather just wallow in the suckiness of it.

Note to self, when your dose is increased by 50% side effects increase by 2,000%.

Someday.

A good laugh...

As I sat on the futon today with a pounding clomid headache and that nauseated feeling that seems to come just hours after the first dose, I found this funny little list.

You know you are infertile when....

• You can say words like vagina, semen, cervical mucus without even flinching.
• Your nurse knows you when you call.
• You know every acronym that has anything to do with TTC.
• You can tell the doctor your temperature to a hundredth of a degree.
• You've stopped thinking of days in terms of actual dates, and have started going by cycle days alone.
• You refuse to purchase tampons until it is too late.
• You refuse to go into a hot tub in fear of hard boiling your eggs.
• Your mood is in direct correlation with the line on your BBT chart.
• You've said the words "forced marital coitus" to your husband.
• You've completly filled the "nusrery" with other things in hopes of moving them out soon.
• You plan family visits and events around ovulation.
• You have zero time for complaining mothers or pregnant women.

Check, check and check. It is my life right now, I might as well laugh about it.

Seeing the bright side...

Chin up, chin up everyone likes a happy face

wear it, share it, it will brighten up the darkest days

twinkle, sparkle, let a little sunshine in

you'll be on the right side looking on the bright side

up with your chinny-chin-chin!

Easier said than done, but I am trying my best to look at the positive side of my current situation. I am praying that this cycle will just be a success, so I don't have to see a specialist. The thought makes me sick. I really dislike going to the doctor in the first place, and the thought of starting over makes me exhausted. I know that ultimately if I don't get pregnant this cycle, it will be a step in the right direction to move on, but it just seems like I'm about to walk into a dark cave of unknowns. I am terrible at being in situations where I'm not in control and don't have a plan laid out in front of me.

Maybe that is exactly the lesson I should be learning in all of this; lose control and accept the unknown, all the while being faithful, trusting and unquestioning of My God. I have often wondered how a God that loves me and protects me could let me hurt so much during this struggle, but then I remember that He has a plan for me, He has gone before me, He hears me crying out in prayer. One day I will understand the struggle, when my heart and mind are ready.

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper youand not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11

Death Sentence.

At least that is what it feels like. I know "it is a step in the right direction" in the words of my amazingly supportive husband, but it feels so much worse. You know it isn't a great sign when the nurse calls you and begins the conversation with "I have NO IDEA why you are not getting pregnant." Great thanks neither do I. Then she dropped the bomb. This is my last medicated cycle with their office. In the future I will need the help of a Reproductive Endocrinologist. Fantastic. My NP agreed to let me do one last cycle of clomid and pulled out all the stops increasing my dosage to 150mg on days 3-7. Although I am thrilled that maybe this will make my eggs a little stronger, a little more mature and a little more prepared to make a baby, I am worried about the pain that is sure to ensue around ovulation. I guess only time will tell. Must.Stay.Positive.

Waiting.

to hear from the doctor. I had my husband fax my chart to the office this morning. One of my least favorite things about TTC at this point is waiting for the nurse to call and tell me what this cycle holds. Is it more blood work, pills, increased doses, invasive tests, an office visit? It is on this day of my cycle that I am most on edge. Waiting for the phone to ring and TWHC to come up on the caller ID... I want to throw up.

If you don’t have something nice to say don’t say anything at all…

Doesn’t everyone’s mother teach them this? Obviously not. Sometimes things that seem like nice things to say are far from it. Here are a few examples of things that have been said to me in the past year by family members, friends and insensitive nurses that are looking at my chart and prescribing fertility drugs……


We got pregnant the first month that we were trying.
-What I Say: Gosh, what a blessing!
-What I'm thinking: Wow, if I were ever going to slap a woman, this would be the time.

You are so “lucky” that you aren’t parents yet, no responsibilities!
-What I say: Yeah, it is nice to be able to pick up and go whenever we want!
-What I'm thinking: Really? Is that any way to talk about the blessing that you’ve been given? The one thing we long for more than ANYTHING else!

People always get pregnant when they stop trying.
- What I say: Yeah, I’m sure it is stressful.
- What I'm thinking: Stop trying? As if that is even an option anymore.

It will happen when it is meant to happen.
-What I say: In His time.
-What I'm thinking: Of course it will. What do you think you are some kind of shaman? You are NOT a magic 8 ball, please don’t pretend to be.

There is always next month.
-What I say: Yep!
-What I'm thinking: Is there?


Luckily although the comments sting, I still have a sense of humor. Like when my mother-in-law asks “when are you guys going to give me a grandbaby?” I first want to punch her, then I give some pre-fab excuse that I had waiting for this very question, and then I brush it off by picturing her saying something like “when are you guys going to start having gobs of unprotected sex?” Because really, isn't that the question she is asking?
Someday, it will all be worth it!

To tell or not to tell...

It was an easy decision. Before we even started trying to get pregnant, I knew that I didn’t want to tell any of our family or friends. I had heard countless times that once you tell people you are TTC it is like inviting them into your personal life, and nothing is simply personal information anymore. I had seen it in action, and I wanted nothing to do with it. I don’t care if you are someone’s mother, best friend, or biggest supporter some things are just not up for discussion. And further more, this journey is an intimate and personal one, not something that I particularly want to feel the need to “update” people on.

Don’t get me wrong. In the year plus that we have been attempting to get pregnant we’ve told a few people. I don’t regret it. The people we’ve told are people we know and trust. People who we hope can keep our secret. It has been nice to have a few “safe” people to talk to about the struggle; people who we know will be absolutely overjoyed when our time finally comes. But, in the meantime I’ve got a couple people who I can share my real feelings with, and that has proven to be invaluable. When you are walking this walk, it is constantly on your mind. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about my fertility or lack there of. It begins at 5am when my alarm goes off and the thermometer goes into my mouth. It is at that point that my day is decided.

Some days it is easy to keep the secret, others are a completely different story. Some days I just want to stop living this lie. I feel like I am constantly putting on a happy face when inside I am hurting. When I know we will be in situations where it is inevitable that someone will ask us when we are thinking about starting our family I come armed with answers and excuses. I prepare myself constantly for someone to announce their pregnancy, which undoubtedly was “a surprise” or “conceived on the first try.” I can’t wait to remember what life felt like when I didn’t have to constantly be on guard. Someday.

Wasted.

In the two years that we were married before we started trying to start our family we spent hundreds of dollars on birth control. I spent a lot of time thinking about how we would feel if I were to get pregnant. The truth of the matter is, if it had happened we would have been happy, thrilled, overjoyed. That time and money was wasted.


As it turns out, just throwing the pill out the window isn't the golden ticket when it comes to me getting pregnant. Heck, if it were that easy, I wouldn't be sitting here after 15 months of trying, writing out our journey so that I can remember just how far we've come when I finally have the joy of seeing two pink lines on a pregnancy test instead of the dreaded ONE that I have seen far too many times to count. If there is one thing that I have realized in this journey, it is that it never gets easier to see the evidence (in whatever form it may come) that it once again just isn't our month.

The journey is tough. There are tears and heartache, blood draws, treatments, stirrups, baby showers to attend and never ending questions from outsiders about when we will start a family. It doesn't get easier, the tears may come less frequently, but it still hurts.

We decided in the spring of 2008 that we were ready to start growing our family. We decided to wait until after I had my annual appointment with my NP, just to make sure that everything was ok. I had my appointment in May and was told "just throw the pill away when you are ready and call me when you get a positive pregnancy test." Oh how I wish it could have been that easy.

We ended up waiting until July to start trying. I stopped taking the pill and thought we were being realistic when we agreed it would be a nice surprise if I got pregnant before Christmas, but certainly no reason to be concerned if I hadn't.

I had one normal cycle after I came off of birth control. Then I began a very long cycle that finally ended with several negative pregnancy tests, a call to my NP and a prescription for Prometrium. The nurse assured me that it is perfectly normal to have a hard time cycling after being on birth control. She agreed with the doctor's order to jump start my period. She said more than likely, I would be back to normal in no time. Wrong. We tried the Prometrium again in February and again it had the desired outcome of a period, but I was skeptical that it would actually make things normal again.

I'm not sure I would call it "normal" but I did begin a new cycle on my own just in time for my annual exam. Instead of canceling the appointment I kept it to talk with my doctor about what might be wrong and to consider having some tests. I left the office with a new sense of calm about the situation. I was ready. I had left four vials of blood at the office (surely that would tell us something) and had a prescription for a fertility drug in my hand. I was sure that I would be pregnant before the summer was over, maybe even before we hit the one year mark. When I went to the office the following week for my re-scheduled exam my NP told me that they didn't find anything in my blood work that would cause any red flags in terms of trying to conceive. She did the exam and again said that there wasn't anything that she could feel or see that would be causing me not to get pregnant. In an attempt to make sure that the only thing standing in our way was my body having no idea how to ovulate on its own and at a normal time, she ordered a semen analysis.

The analysis came back normal. We were thankful that there was only one problem and we already had the medication to "fix" it. I woke up religiously 5am to take my temperature and chart it to see if and when I ovulated. I went in each cycle on the twenty-fifth day to have more blood drawn to check my levels. It was no picnic. The medication made me sick while I was taking it, put me in a significant amount of pain during ovulation and just overall made me feel weird. But, I continued to tell myself that it was all worth it. If I had to feel this way for the next year in order to hold our baby in my arms it would all be worth it.

Medicated cycle 1: Not pregnant

Medicated cycle 2: Not pregnant

Medicated cycle 3: Not pregnant, and officially "infertile." Great, that is one label I was hoping to avoid.

Medicated cycle 4: Still, not pregnant

And that bring us to today. I am at the bitter end of medicated cycle number 5. My temperature has dropped. I was an emotional wreck last night. It is only a matter of time until medicated cycle 6 begins. Did I mention that typically they only prescribe 6 cycles of this drug in a row? Great.

Next stop, invasive tests and a referral to a specialist.

I know I told anyone who would listen that all I wanted for Christmas was a garbage disposal, but I've changed my mind. Please move growing fetus to the top of my list.