For the first time in quite some time, I had an IF breakdown the other night. I'm talking full on tears, sobs, and heartbreaking pain. I had spent the day holding my tiny nephew, just snuggling him and listening to his little noises. Watching him do that adorable little baby stretch and flash sweet smiles. It just felt so natural to be around a baby and tend to his needs. It also made me ache deep down in my soul for my baby. A baby I started trying for at the age of 25 and here I am at 33 still childless. It just all hit me that night and I let myself feel it.
M said something quite innocent to me about how we have been trying. I guess I haven't let myself really think about it and it just hit me like a ton of bricks. What if we never succeed? What if it's just too late for my body to do what seems so natural for most couples? How could I allow M to know this world of IF? Why the hell did I fall in love again when I know I'm reproductively challenged? How could I do that to him? IF contributed to my first marriage's destruction, am I crazy to think it won't do the same to this one? The guilt is just overwhelming and all consuming. I feel so horribly about it all.
M started comforting me and talking about seeing doctors, and if there are any vitamins he can take to help improve his sperm, just in case, and should we start googling to learn more about conceiving. It just was so surreal to hear those words, a variation on past conversations with XH about the same damn things. I almost screamed from rage at it all, at the fucking irony of being back in this place again. It makes me want to throw things and punch people and curl up into a little ball and cry until there are no tears left.
The IUD was removed in late May and we did use condoms for a while. We didn't call it TTC until around September but in reality, it's been almost a year since we ditched all forms of birth control. Given our ages (33 and 36), what did I expect? And now this brings up all kinds of questions about what to do about it. Do we see doctors? Do we consult Dr Google? Do we start vitamins? Do I go back down that road again of having doctors elbow deep in me to tell me things I've already heard?
When I think about that, I just feel so exhausted. I've already had that experience and I truly don't think I have it in me to do that again. I truly have no desire to hear another doctor order an HSG, prescribe meds that make me crazy, or hold his hand through a SA. It's too much to go through again. I cannot keep my sanity through more of that. I panic at the thought of researching IUI and IVF again. The PTSD from it all is very real and manageable now, I'm not sure my mind can handle it again.
So, I'm not sure what will happen. All I do know is that I keep thinking where is my baby? And it's draining.
Showing posts with label IF. Show all posts
Showing posts with label IF. Show all posts
February 26, 2016
October 20, 2015
Back in the TTC saddle, again
Recently my six-months-pregnant sister and I spent a day running errands and doing some shopping together. In the years since I started dealing with IF, I have spent plenty of time with pregnant women in various baby shops. I can do fine in small doses and only once did I have to wait outside while my friends shopped inside. But, the one baby store that I have not sent foot in is Buy Buy Baby, I just refuse. I'm not sure why, but for some reason I just swore to myself that I'd never enter that store unless I was pregnant. I guess I was "saving" it for myself. It wasn't hard to avoid the store while I was living in AR because there wasn't one in our area but now that I'm back in TX, there are more than a few.
Of course our errands included a stop in a shopping center with a Buy Buy Baby. I noticed it and ignored it but I saw my sister's face light up when she saw it. She excitedly informed me that of course we were going in, that we just HAD to. Now, I know her and she's always been very sensitive about my IF past. And I had also never said a word about how I was "saving" the store for myself one day, because, well, that sounds slightly insane. So I know she wasn't being mean or anything and she even told me that we didn't have to go in, if I didn't want to. But, I simply can't refuse my little sister and I really thought I'd be ok.
Nobody told me that the entire freaking store smells like baby powder. Or that it is THE spot for strollers and I am obsessed with strollers, I love researching them on days when my baby fever is through the roof. I was fine for about 30 minutes and then I had reached my limit. Luckily we left not long after that. I told her about how I had been "saving" it and she felt so badly about us stopping by but I told her it was ok. She really is very understanding and supportive about my feelings.
The thing is, I am not preventing a baby. After I had my IUD removed at the end of May, we did use protection for a while, but we decided to stop preventing and see what happens. Nothing has happened, obviously. The IUD has really messed with my body so my cycle still hasn't returned and that's always been an issue for me anyway. I'm not currently on metformin either. So, I know that of course it's not going to happen right now and I know that it actually might not ever happen. But that doesn't make the negative pregnancy tests any easier on me.
So, here I am, TTC again. It's such a weird feeling to be back in that mode after so much IF. I'm conflicted about it all but I know that I have to try for a baby. Because if I never try then I'll never know, and that would always haunt me. At least this way, if it doesn't happen, I can accept that it just wasn't in the cards for me and truly move on. I'm 32, M is 36, I'll imagine we'll not prevent for the next few years until I'm 36. It's very loosely a plan. A TTC plan. Again. After all this IF. I have to laugh or else I'll cry.
Of course our errands included a stop in a shopping center with a Buy Buy Baby. I noticed it and ignored it but I saw my sister's face light up when she saw it. She excitedly informed me that of course we were going in, that we just HAD to. Now, I know her and she's always been very sensitive about my IF past. And I had also never said a word about how I was "saving" the store for myself one day, because, well, that sounds slightly insane. So I know she wasn't being mean or anything and she even told me that we didn't have to go in, if I didn't want to. But, I simply can't refuse my little sister and I really thought I'd be ok.
Nobody told me that the entire freaking store smells like baby powder. Or that it is THE spot for strollers and I am obsessed with strollers, I love researching them on days when my baby fever is through the roof. I was fine for about 30 minutes and then I had reached my limit. Luckily we left not long after that. I told her about how I had been "saving" it and she felt so badly about us stopping by but I told her it was ok. She really is very understanding and supportive about my feelings.
The thing is, I am not preventing a baby. After I had my IUD removed at the end of May, we did use protection for a while, but we decided to stop preventing and see what happens. Nothing has happened, obviously. The IUD has really messed with my body so my cycle still hasn't returned and that's always been an issue for me anyway. I'm not currently on metformin either. So, I know that of course it's not going to happen right now and I know that it actually might not ever happen. But that doesn't make the negative pregnancy tests any easier on me.
So, here I am, TTC again. It's such a weird feeling to be back in that mode after so much IF. I'm conflicted about it all but I know that I have to try for a baby. Because if I never try then I'll never know, and that would always haunt me. At least this way, if it doesn't happen, I can accept that it just wasn't in the cards for me and truly move on. I'm 32, M is 36, I'll imagine we'll not prevent for the next few years until I'm 36. It's very loosely a plan. A TTC plan. Again. After all this IF. I have to laugh or else I'll cry.
April 22, 2015
National Infertility Awareness Week
As a woman who spent years entrenched in the IF world, I knew once the calendar rolled on to April that NIAW would soon be upon us. I tried collecting my thoughts on it but they were so scrambled that it was hard to round them all up and organize them into a coherent thought. So, my FB has stayed uncharacteristically silent thus far. Although I did send out a supportive tweet and I will post across FB and IG before the week ends.
But, here it is, IF is a damn hard road to travel. I had the support of an awesome online forum and made some amazing friends, who I still keep in touch with. Their kids' pictures light up my FB and make me SO incredibly happy. Seriously, I celebrate their children so much because I remember how much their mommas cried, yelled, raged, hoped and prayed. Those women made the dark days lighter. They posted and messaged when my Dad died and when my marriage ended. They've been such a blessing.
I started this blog before the MFI dx but after my PCOS dx. The support I received from the blogging world was incredible. You all championed my successes and consoled me during the failures. The love and support when my Dad died and when I announced my divorce was really heartwarming. And a wonderful balm to my aching heart. The IF blogging world is a fantastic support.
My point is, even though IF is a long, lonely road, you are not alone. Unfortunately there are others out there but the good thing about that sad fact is that you can find shoulders to lean on. And that makes a world of difference. Lean on people and seek support, find solace in the storm. The IF community will help guide you through.
But, here it is, IF is a damn hard road to travel. I had the support of an awesome online forum and made some amazing friends, who I still keep in touch with. Their kids' pictures light up my FB and make me SO incredibly happy. Seriously, I celebrate their children so much because I remember how much their mommas cried, yelled, raged, hoped and prayed. Those women made the dark days lighter. They posted and messaged when my Dad died and when my marriage ended. They've been such a blessing.
I started this blog before the MFI dx but after my PCOS dx. The support I received from the blogging world was incredible. You all championed my successes and consoled me during the failures. The love and support when my Dad died and when I announced my divorce was really heartwarming. And a wonderful balm to my aching heart. The IF blogging world is a fantastic support.
My point is, even though IF is a long, lonely road, you are not alone. Unfortunately there are others out there but the good thing about that sad fact is that you can find shoulders to lean on. And that makes a world of difference. Lean on people and seek support, find solace in the storm. The IF community will help guide you through.
March 29, 2014
Do you want kids?
I've gotten to that part of life after divorce where it's not the immediate thing people think about when we talk. I've also met a lot of new people since my split and all they know is I'm divorced. They don't know C or any of the details behind our marriage and divorce. So it's inevitable for THE question to come up, you know that one that all IF'ers dread with a passion of a thousand fiery suns: do you have kids? (And all the forms that question comes in, including but not limited to: why don't you have kids? do you want kids? why didn't your and your ex have any?, etc) My mind's immediate reaction is, "oh yay, this damn question again." But at least I no longer have that urge to throat punch the people who ask me that! Progress!
It's not quite the sting it was before the split but it's still a twinge of something to my heart. If I'm totally unprepared for it, like if it comes out of left field when I'm chatting about mundane things, it can leave me breathless for a second. The first couple of times, my mind scrambled to think of an appropriate answer that wasn't quite the depressing truth. Depending on how many drinks I'd consumed at that point, sometimes my reply would be the blunt truth but mostly I'd just give a little smile, shake my head no, and tell them we didn't have kids but hopefully one day I will and change the subject. Most people just go with that. Only once has someone really pushed for answers and I just flat out told her that we struggled with MFI. Yes, I kinda threw C under the bus with that response but I was annoyed.
Which, leads to another set of problems, our IF dx. Explaining that is quite awkward too. We were very open about our IF problems and C was very open about his azoospermia but I was never comfortable telling people about it. It wasn't my diagnosis so I never felt like it was right for me to tell people about it, which C thought was silly. But MFI makes people say the most inappropriate things and I'd just rather not hear that shit. Only our immediate family and closest friends in Arkansas knew. Nobody outside that circle had a clue and even now my longtime friends down here are always surprised to hear the whole story. I've heard from all of them that they all thought it was me who couldn't have kids. I preferred it that way too, to be honest. I didn't want C to deal with the insensitivity so I kept it pretty quiet. And now it feels mean to tell people about his azoo. It's just so personal and I don't feel comfortable spreading his personal information to people.
Anyway, I always tell people that yes, of course I want children one day. After C left and it became obvious that we weren't going to be able to repair our relationship, I was very struck by the thought that I could actually have a family one day. (Right before we split, C had told me he had changed his mind and no longer wanted kids.) As a woman who dealt with IF, it was really hard for me to accept that I was excited about this possibility because it felt like such a betrayal to C. I always told him I loved him more than sperm and that I wanted him, not sperm. And that was very true, given the choice, I would have always chosen C. But he walked out and left, he made the choice that we were irrevocably broken so I made the choice that yes, I want kids and I'm going to have them one day. But I do feel guilty and I hope that fades one day.
I'm not ready for kids yet, I'm still a mess. No steady job and I'm not ready for the responsibility. But I know the time will come when my clock isn't something I'll be able to ignore. I'm 31 and have been longing for a baby for the past six years. My friends are on their second or third baby and I'm over here, divorced and drunk on the weekends. So even though I'm not responsible enough yet, my baby fever is always in the back of my mind. But so is the IF, it's confusing sometimes to make peace between the two. Between who I use to be and who I am now, what my life was before and what my life is after. Between the IF struggle and the possibility that I can have a baby one day. Making peace with the cards I was handed but now having the ability to have a say in how they are played.
It's not quite the sting it was before the split but it's still a twinge of something to my heart. If I'm totally unprepared for it, like if it comes out of left field when I'm chatting about mundane things, it can leave me breathless for a second. The first couple of times, my mind scrambled to think of an appropriate answer that wasn't quite the depressing truth. Depending on how many drinks I'd consumed at that point, sometimes my reply would be the blunt truth but mostly I'd just give a little smile, shake my head no, and tell them we didn't have kids but hopefully one day I will and change the subject. Most people just go with that. Only once has someone really pushed for answers and I just flat out told her that we struggled with MFI. Yes, I kinda threw C under the bus with that response but I was annoyed.
Which, leads to another set of problems, our IF dx. Explaining that is quite awkward too. We were very open about our IF problems and C was very open about his azoospermia but I was never comfortable telling people about it. It wasn't my diagnosis so I never felt like it was right for me to tell people about it, which C thought was silly. But MFI makes people say the most inappropriate things and I'd just rather not hear that shit. Only our immediate family and closest friends in Arkansas knew. Nobody outside that circle had a clue and even now my longtime friends down here are always surprised to hear the whole story. I've heard from all of them that they all thought it was me who couldn't have kids. I preferred it that way too, to be honest. I didn't want C to deal with the insensitivity so I kept it pretty quiet. And now it feels mean to tell people about his azoo. It's just so personal and I don't feel comfortable spreading his personal information to people.
Anyway, I always tell people that yes, of course I want children one day. After C left and it became obvious that we weren't going to be able to repair our relationship, I was very struck by the thought that I could actually have a family one day. (Right before we split, C had told me he had changed his mind and no longer wanted kids.) As a woman who dealt with IF, it was really hard for me to accept that I was excited about this possibility because it felt like such a betrayal to C. I always told him I loved him more than sperm and that I wanted him, not sperm. And that was very true, given the choice, I would have always chosen C. But he walked out and left, he made the choice that we were irrevocably broken so I made the choice that yes, I want kids and I'm going to have them one day. But I do feel guilty and I hope that fades one day.
I'm not ready for kids yet, I'm still a mess. No steady job and I'm not ready for the responsibility. But I know the time will come when my clock isn't something I'll be able to ignore. I'm 31 and have been longing for a baby for the past six years. My friends are on their second or third baby and I'm over here, divorced and drunk on the weekends. So even though I'm not responsible enough yet, my baby fever is always in the back of my mind. But so is the IF, it's confusing sometimes to make peace between the two. Between who I use to be and who I am now, what my life was before and what my life is after. Between the IF struggle and the possibility that I can have a baby one day. Making peace with the cards I was handed but now having the ability to have a say in how they are played.
November 23, 2013
3 Pregnancies & an Engagement
I've had quite the week. The final design was chosen for my Dad's headstone, something we had put off for almost two years. I just couldn't bring myself to pick it out because it just made it so damn real. I chose the hospice service we used, made calls about his final days, and planned the entire funeral on my own. I just didn't have it in me to do this one last thing, the last step. My SIL took over and it's done and it's been hard to think about. It's going to be installed soon, just in time for the 2 year mark since he died.
Three pregnancy announcements also sent me in a tailspin this week. Three cousins all due next year. One with her first, one with her sixth and the other with her fourth and yes, they are all younger than me. They all got married after me as well. Out of all of us, I was so sure my marriage would last and that I'd have babies by now. Funny how pregnancies can still send me diving headfirst into a bottle of wine. I'm happy for them, babies are a blessing and I'll happily buy baby gifts and cuddle newborns when the time comes. But, oh my Lord, the blinding pain knocked me off my ass.
My little sister also got engaged last week. He's an incredible guy and even better father to my niece, whom he wants to adopt! I'm thrilled for her and I'm happy to pour over wedding magazines and gasp at beautiful gowns. It's just a little sting to think of my own gorgeous wedding dress (that I really need to get rid of) and my own wedding that I adored.
Everyone's life is advancing and it just feels like my own is just stuck in the same damn place. A place I didn't plan for or chose but a place that was handed to me nonetheless. It's a place I can handle and I've made as much peace as I can with being in it. But, sometimes, the absurdity of it all just slams into me and takes my breath away. I am really 30 years old, divorcing, childless and jobless. This is my life and it's crazy. Thank God for my family, friends, the Cowboy and great wine!
C finally signed the divorce papers this week too. I signed under his name and submitted them to my lawyer. They go before the judge this week and he'll grant the decree and it'll be done. 13 months after he left and 12 months after I filed, an end is truly in sight. It's the most bittersweet feeling I have ever felt. There is no other way to word it.
This week was challenging. It all came at me at once and I felt so damn overwhelmed. I got properly drunk and cried my eyes out. I'm feeling better now but still fighting that stupid cold. On bed rest so it won't turn into pneumonia, like it usually does. See? All at once. I know next week will be better though. I have hope that it's all going to turn around soon.
Three pregnancy announcements also sent me in a tailspin this week. Three cousins all due next year. One with her first, one with her sixth and the other with her fourth and yes, they are all younger than me. They all got married after me as well. Out of all of us, I was so sure my marriage would last and that I'd have babies by now. Funny how pregnancies can still send me diving headfirst into a bottle of wine. I'm happy for them, babies are a blessing and I'll happily buy baby gifts and cuddle newborns when the time comes. But, oh my Lord, the blinding pain knocked me off my ass.
My little sister also got engaged last week. He's an incredible guy and even better father to my niece, whom he wants to adopt! I'm thrilled for her and I'm happy to pour over wedding magazines and gasp at beautiful gowns. It's just a little sting to think of my own gorgeous wedding dress (that I really need to get rid of) and my own wedding that I adored.
Everyone's life is advancing and it just feels like my own is just stuck in the same damn place. A place I didn't plan for or chose but a place that was handed to me nonetheless. It's a place I can handle and I've made as much peace as I can with being in it. But, sometimes, the absurdity of it all just slams into me and takes my breath away. I am really 30 years old, divorcing, childless and jobless. This is my life and it's crazy. Thank God for my family, friends, the Cowboy and great wine!
C finally signed the divorce papers this week too. I signed under his name and submitted them to my lawyer. They go before the judge this week and he'll grant the decree and it'll be done. 13 months after he left and 12 months after I filed, an end is truly in sight. It's the most bittersweet feeling I have ever felt. There is no other way to word it.
This week was challenging. It all came at me at once and I felt so damn overwhelmed. I got properly drunk and cried my eyes out. I'm feeling better now but still fighting that stupid cold. On bed rest so it won't turn into pneumonia, like it usually does. See? All at once. I know next week will be better though. I have hope that it's all going to turn around soon.
September 24, 2013
The Cowboy meets IF
When XH and I split up, I realized pretty quickly that it meant I would need some kind of birth control. That realization made my head spin...and my heart hurt. Granted my PCOS means I'm not exactly fertile myrtle, but I knew I didn't want to chance getting pregnant from a random if the condom broke. I have a super awesome gyno and when I got the full panel of STD testing (thanks XH for the cheating!) she made sure to emphasize that an IUD was my only option due to my various health problems. It took me a couple of months to let that sink in and to fully commit, but I got one inserted in May. Less than a week later, I also nailed my first post-divorce conquest but I digress. So, it's been interesting knowing that I, the woman who dealt with IF for 4 years, is now on birth control. But, because I was so busy being a whore, IF never really crossed my mind.
Then I met the Cowboy and along with that came the questions about why I'm 30 and child-free. I gave him a breezy answer at first, telling him that we tried but it didn't quite work out for us, that it was complicated. After we started getting more serious, I went more in depth about the details. I briefly educated him on azoo, IVF with ICSI, PCOS, and all the other crap. I touched lightly on the devastation and admitted that IF played a part in our marriage's destruction. He's a really sensitive guy so he knows it's a very touchy subject and he tries to avoid bringing it up but he does ask questions. He made it clear that he wanted children one day and told me that his ex-wife had two miscarriages during their marriage. My heart broke for him when he told me that. Heavy subjects for a 3 month old relationship but I'm 30 and he's almost 34 so I guess this is how it goes.
A couple of weeks ago, I commented on how sore my boobs were and a couple of days later, beer started tasting really weird to me. The Cowboy jokingly asked me if I was pregnant and seeing the look on my face, he quickly changed the subject. But, the look on my face wasn't one of IF related hurt, it was a look of terror as I realized I was indeed late. Cue the tears and a major freakout, which the Cowboy handled quite well, I must admit. He wanted me to POAS immediately but I knew better, my IF taught me well and I knew that my period would come just by us talking about it. Plus, I have an IUD, I'm covered on that front, right? Cue the frantic googling and more freak outs as I read about woman getting KU with an IUD. After dragging my feet for a few days, I gave in and bought a damn PG test, against my better judgment.
Seeing that BFN didn't hurt any less, if anything, it actually hurt more. I was that devastated IF'er all over again, wondering if I'd ever see a plus sign. Never-mind that a pregnancy scare with a brand new BF isn't the ideal situation, I was heartbroken. And, per the usual IF luck, my period showed up the next fucking day. I cried even more. The Cowboy was so sweet and never once pointed out how new our relationship is; didn't blink an eye that I was freaking out about possibly being pregnant, considering it would be by a man I have known 3 months. He just held me and told me goofy jokes.
The rational, logical part of me knows that it's better for me to not be pregnant but the woman who dealt with so much IF related pain, just ached. The pain of seeing a BFN, combined with the mess of emotions I was feeling by possibly being pregnant by a man who isn't XH, plus the hope I let myself feel, however briefly, just hit me like a tidal wave. I had a very bad week last week. I was angry, sad, confused, relieved, disappointed and just all around a huge emotional mess. The experience also meant that the Cowboy and I had several long talks about the emotional aspect of IF and the toll it took on both myself and XH. These talks involved a lot of tears and heavy emotions, talking about it just made the already open wounds more raw. It was so hard to dive back into those feelings, to explain how it felt to be told C was sterile, how it hurt to be around pregnant ladies and how much Mother's and Father's Day just sucked. This whole ordeal made me realize that IF will always cast a shadow over my life. It jades so much now and whoever I do decide to have children with, is going to have to be ok with knowing that these IF scars bleed easily when poked. He's going to have to be very understanding about me carrying this huge pain from my first marriage. A pain that will affect not only me, but us, once we decide to try for a baby. I know now that any man I get serious with will have to be introduced to IF at some point. It was damn hard to open up about it to the Cowboy, to show him to the deep cuts IF made. I was so scared he'd just run as fast as he could in the other direction, especially since we were dealing with such serious stuff as quickly as we were. But, he's a great guy and it hasn't really phased him. He's just as sweet as always.
I really questioned writing this post, because I know IF is such an emotional topic for so many of us. And I knew an accidental pregnancy would be the last thing any of you still in those fucking trenches would want to read about. I sincerely hope you believe that my intention was to just be brutally honest with all of you about my life post-divorce. So many of us have dealt with IF but I haven't come across many blogs of IF'ers learning how to navigate life after their marriage crumbled. I just want to be honest with all of you and show you how I am handling starting over and all the complications that pop up. Also, please know that I still see life from my IF view. It just got buried by my divorce until now. I thought that perhaps that part of my life was behind me but, nope, IF still has her damn claws in me. It's just different now, without XH, but it's still there and it still hurts like a bitch.
Then I met the Cowboy and along with that came the questions about why I'm 30 and child-free. I gave him a breezy answer at first, telling him that we tried but it didn't quite work out for us, that it was complicated. After we started getting more serious, I went more in depth about the details. I briefly educated him on azoo, IVF with ICSI, PCOS, and all the other crap. I touched lightly on the devastation and admitted that IF played a part in our marriage's destruction. He's a really sensitive guy so he knows it's a very touchy subject and he tries to avoid bringing it up but he does ask questions. He made it clear that he wanted children one day and told me that his ex-wife had two miscarriages during their marriage. My heart broke for him when he told me that. Heavy subjects for a 3 month old relationship but I'm 30 and he's almost 34 so I guess this is how it goes.
A couple of weeks ago, I commented on how sore my boobs were and a couple of days later, beer started tasting really weird to me. The Cowboy jokingly asked me if I was pregnant and seeing the look on my face, he quickly changed the subject. But, the look on my face wasn't one of IF related hurt, it was a look of terror as I realized I was indeed late. Cue the tears and a major freakout, which the Cowboy handled quite well, I must admit. He wanted me to POAS immediately but I knew better, my IF taught me well and I knew that my period would come just by us talking about it. Plus, I have an IUD, I'm covered on that front, right? Cue the frantic googling and more freak outs as I read about woman getting KU with an IUD. After dragging my feet for a few days, I gave in and bought a damn PG test, against my better judgment.
Seeing that BFN didn't hurt any less, if anything, it actually hurt more. I was that devastated IF'er all over again, wondering if I'd ever see a plus sign. Never-mind that a pregnancy scare with a brand new BF isn't the ideal situation, I was heartbroken. And, per the usual IF luck, my period showed up the next fucking day. I cried even more. The Cowboy was so sweet and never once pointed out how new our relationship is; didn't blink an eye that I was freaking out about possibly being pregnant, considering it would be by a man I have known 3 months. He just held me and told me goofy jokes.
The rational, logical part of me knows that it's better for me to not be pregnant but the woman who dealt with so much IF related pain, just ached. The pain of seeing a BFN, combined with the mess of emotions I was feeling by possibly being pregnant by a man who isn't XH, plus the hope I let myself feel, however briefly, just hit me like a tidal wave. I had a very bad week last week. I was angry, sad, confused, relieved, disappointed and just all around a huge emotional mess. The experience also meant that the Cowboy and I had several long talks about the emotional aspect of IF and the toll it took on both myself and XH. These talks involved a lot of tears and heavy emotions, talking about it just made the already open wounds more raw. It was so hard to dive back into those feelings, to explain how it felt to be told C was sterile, how it hurt to be around pregnant ladies and how much Mother's and Father's Day just sucked. This whole ordeal made me realize that IF will always cast a shadow over my life. It jades so much now and whoever I do decide to have children with, is going to have to be ok with knowing that these IF scars bleed easily when poked. He's going to have to be very understanding about me carrying this huge pain from my first marriage. A pain that will affect not only me, but us, once we decide to try for a baby. I know now that any man I get serious with will have to be introduced to IF at some point. It was damn hard to open up about it to the Cowboy, to show him to the deep cuts IF made. I was so scared he'd just run as fast as he could in the other direction, especially since we were dealing with such serious stuff as quickly as we were. But, he's a great guy and it hasn't really phased him. He's just as sweet as always.
I really questioned writing this post, because I know IF is such an emotional topic for so many of us. And I knew an accidental pregnancy would be the last thing any of you still in those fucking trenches would want to read about. I sincerely hope you believe that my intention was to just be brutally honest with all of you about my life post-divorce. So many of us have dealt with IF but I haven't come across many blogs of IF'ers learning how to navigate life after their marriage crumbled. I just want to be honest with all of you and show you how I am handling starting over and all the complications that pop up. Also, please know that I still see life from my IF view. It just got buried by my divorce until now. I thought that perhaps that part of my life was behind me but, nope, IF still has her damn claws in me. It's just different now, without XH, but it's still there and it still hurts like a bitch.
August 31, 2012
long time, no talk
It's so hard to post when there is nothing IF related going on in my life and I feel like it gets tiresome for all of you to keep reading grieving posts about my Dad. Plus, it's been busy with moving and all. After five years in Arkansas, we are finally Texas residents again! Completely in love with our new house and having fun living near family again. Just bittersweet that my Dad isn't here to see this. His birthday was the 17th and it was so damn hard. He would have been 55 and we would have had a big party but instead we wished like crazy things were different and cancer didn't exist. We also released balloon messages at the cemetery and decorated his grave. It's not so hard to think about him, the hard part is missing him...every day from now until we see him again. That is the sucky part.
I'm also missing C like crazy. He still works in AR for 12 days at a time and then is home for 4 days, they're going to switch him to a 4 weeks on/1 week off schedule soon. It's a hard adjustment and sometimes I question our sanity but we push on because this is how it is now. Sacrifices had to be made and we keep telling ourselves that it's temporary. We want to open our own business at some point and then we can be together and have a normal life. In the meantime, there is a lot of Sky.pe going on and long phone conversations. He comes home September 11th and I am anxiously counting down!
It was sad for me to drive away from our AR house, I kept thinking about all the expectations I had when we bought that house in 2008. I fully believed we would bring our baby home to that house and I mentally decorated our nursery over and over. I can still vividly remember getting that phone call in my kitchen about C's zero SA. How I sat stunned at our kitchen table, sobbing. All the devastating talks we had within those walls about sperm, doctors, infertility. The fights, the tears, the sadness...it all seemed to haunt us a little there. We had a good life in AR, it's just also where so much sadness happened. In the five years we were there; both my Grandpas died, my Dad had a stroke and was diagnosed with cancer, my health took a nose-dive, IF roared into our lives, his cousin committed suicide, he switched jobs twice, we almost split up and we lost my Dad. It's been quite a mess.
But with the bad, there is of course, the good. We made some really happy memories there too. Lots of laughs, parties with friends we adore, all the fun we had decorating our first house and making it our home. We made some life-long friends who helped us through the darkness and plied us with alcohol when all else failed. We traveled some, became bikers and grew up. We were only 24 when we moved there, so young and naive.
Here we are now, back home and staring at 30. Still childless but hopefully not for too long.
I'm also missing C like crazy. He still works in AR for 12 days at a time and then is home for 4 days, they're going to switch him to a 4 weeks on/1 week off schedule soon. It's a hard adjustment and sometimes I question our sanity but we push on because this is how it is now. Sacrifices had to be made and we keep telling ourselves that it's temporary. We want to open our own business at some point and then we can be together and have a normal life. In the meantime, there is a lot of Sky.pe going on and long phone conversations. He comes home September 11th and I am anxiously counting down!
It was sad for me to drive away from our AR house, I kept thinking about all the expectations I had when we bought that house in 2008. I fully believed we would bring our baby home to that house and I mentally decorated our nursery over and over. I can still vividly remember getting that phone call in my kitchen about C's zero SA. How I sat stunned at our kitchen table, sobbing. All the devastating talks we had within those walls about sperm, doctors, infertility. The fights, the tears, the sadness...it all seemed to haunt us a little there. We had a good life in AR, it's just also where so much sadness happened. In the five years we were there; both my Grandpas died, my Dad had a stroke and was diagnosed with cancer, my health took a nose-dive, IF roared into our lives, his cousin committed suicide, he switched jobs twice, we almost split up and we lost my Dad. It's been quite a mess.
But with the bad, there is of course, the good. We made some really happy memories there too. Lots of laughs, parties with friends we adore, all the fun we had decorating our first house and making it our home. We made some life-long friends who helped us through the darkness and plied us with alcohol when all else failed. We traveled some, became bikers and grew up. We were only 24 when we moved there, so young and naive.
Here we are now, back home and staring at 30. Still childless but hopefully not for too long.
March 27, 2012
Bringing the IF back
Next week officially marks 4 years of TTC, can I still call it that if we have no sperm and no ovulation? Also, why can nobody give me an answer to that question? Guess I'll call it 4 years of us desperately wanting to be parents. Only the desperate part comes and goes, sometimes it takes all my willpower to not snatch a baby and run and sometimes I gleefully drink too much tequila and sleep in until one. Sometimes, I don't even think about kids or IF or sperm. And that is a bag of mixed emotions in itself.
IF and kids use to consume my every thought and that sucked. It drained me emotionally to the point where I didn't care if we ever had kids or not. I was just so done with IF running my life. I quit posting on the IF message board I loved, stopped blogging and stopped thinking about babies. It was so freeing and I felt normal. Then, everything with my Dad happened- the cancer being back, chemo, hospice, death- and of course it didn't enter my mind. Even now, I had to remind myself what April meant and I waited for the sting of my empty uterus to chime in but it didn't. All was quiet. All is still quiet.
I don't know how I feel about IF and kids right now. I know how I should feel though. I should be sad and desperate to have a baby in my arms. Instead, I stare at pictures of my Dad and remember something Dr. Nuts once said to me. He told me that IF/azoo wasn't the worst thing that could happen to us. At the time, it was a huge slap in the face and I was so hurt by it. Now I get it. Now I see what he meant. The worst happened almost 4 years after what I thought was the worst. IF is horrible and it sucks. But, for me, it wasn't the worst. Not even close but for more reasons than just my Dad's death.
I just know, from somewhere deep inside of me, that I'll have a child or two. I just know with everything I am that IF isn't anything I can't conquer. C and I will come out on the other side. I know this. I know this because we are aiming for an IVF cycle by December.
IF and kids use to consume my every thought and that sucked. It drained me emotionally to the point where I didn't care if we ever had kids or not. I was just so done with IF running my life. I quit posting on the IF message board I loved, stopped blogging and stopped thinking about babies. It was so freeing and I felt normal. Then, everything with my Dad happened- the cancer being back, chemo, hospice, death- and of course it didn't enter my mind. Even now, I had to remind myself what April meant and I waited for the sting of my empty uterus to chime in but it didn't. All was quiet. All is still quiet.
I don't know how I feel about IF and kids right now. I know how I should feel though. I should be sad and desperate to have a baby in my arms. Instead, I stare at pictures of my Dad and remember something Dr. Nuts once said to me. He told me that IF/azoo wasn't the worst thing that could happen to us. At the time, it was a huge slap in the face and I was so hurt by it. Now I get it. Now I see what he meant. The worst happened almost 4 years after what I thought was the worst. IF is horrible and it sucks. But, for me, it wasn't the worst. Not even close but for more reasons than just my Dad's death.
I just know, from somewhere deep inside of me, that I'll have a child or two. I just know with everything I am that IF isn't anything I can't conquer. C and I will come out on the other side. I know this. I know this because we are aiming for an IVF cycle by December.
February 23, 2012
a new diagnosis
Let's add up all the diagnoses I've been handed over the years, or as I refer to it- my body hates me. First up was PCOS/amenorrhea, (don't forget my gallbladder shit the bed) followed by liver disease, then hypothyroidism which simultaneously came with a hypertrophic cardiomyopathy diagnosis and now we can add an official depression diagnosis to my list. My body? Totally winning.
Y'all, I have a pill box. Like the kind that is long and has the days of the week printed on top the divided slots, but it's ok because mine is pink and that makes me feel like maybe I'm not 90 years old. Anyway, thanks to the above reasons my body hates me, I've been seeing my family doctor once a month. After talking about how I've been since losing my Dad, he added a second anti-depressant to my pillbox and referred me to a therapist. My first appointment is next week. Which makes me anxious because I'm scared to death he'll listen to me and then decide to lock me in a looney bin. Just kidding, kinda.
I knew I was taking my Dad's death hard but I thought it was just normal grief. But the tears were so frequent, the rage so frightening and the hopelessness so scary that I guessed it might be something more. Guess it's not normal to wake up every day and feel like the joy has been sucked out of the world. I want to grieve but I don't want to feel so dark all the time, some laughter mixed in with the tears would be so nice. I want to be able to think about my Dad without all the images from his time on hospice clouding my mind. I want to not feel so responsible for his death and have some sense of peace about his decision to stop chemo. Which I know is a moot point because he wasn't responding to chemo anyway but it's how I feel.
But, I've been told by friends who have lost a parent that a lot of that never truly goes away. You never really stop processing and trying to understand what losing a parent really is or does to you. You never stop missing them or grieving, you just learn to live with the new normal that is your life. You learn to live with the parent sized hole in your heart and life. Guess I'll be keeping my therapist busy considering of the unique spin our infertility also casts on my grief.
Oh and to add insult to injury, a relative sent me a care package, which is sweet but included in it was several baby items with the Longhorn emblem on it. Nothing else screams sensitivity quite like that.
Y'all, I have a pill box. Like the kind that is long and has the days of the week printed on top the divided slots, but it's ok because mine is pink and that makes me feel like maybe I'm not 90 years old. Anyway, thanks to the above reasons my body hates me, I've been seeing my family doctor once a month. After talking about how I've been since losing my Dad, he added a second anti-depressant to my pillbox and referred me to a therapist. My first appointment is next week. Which makes me anxious because I'm scared to death he'll listen to me and then decide to lock me in a looney bin. Just kidding, kinda.
I knew I was taking my Dad's death hard but I thought it was just normal grief. But the tears were so frequent, the rage so frightening and the hopelessness so scary that I guessed it might be something more. Guess it's not normal to wake up every day and feel like the joy has been sucked out of the world. I want to grieve but I don't want to feel so dark all the time, some laughter mixed in with the tears would be so nice. I want to be able to think about my Dad without all the images from his time on hospice clouding my mind. I want to not feel so responsible for his death and have some sense of peace about his decision to stop chemo. Which I know is a moot point because he wasn't responding to chemo anyway but it's how I feel.
But, I've been told by friends who have lost a parent that a lot of that never truly goes away. You never really stop processing and trying to understand what losing a parent really is or does to you. You never stop missing them or grieving, you just learn to live with the new normal that is your life. You learn to live with the parent sized hole in your heart and life. Guess I'll be keeping my therapist busy considering of the unique spin our infertility also casts on my grief.
Oh and to add insult to injury, a relative sent me a care package, which is sweet but included in it was several baby items with the Longhorn emblem on it. Nothing else screams sensitivity quite like that.
February 2, 2012
my dad and my infertility
Babies weren't really on my mind prior to late October. I was focused on Halloween and while I was dreading yet another child-less holiday season, I just wasn't too preoccupied about babies and IF. My health had gone to shit again and we had dipped into our IVF savings to help fund the two ER visits in September. So, I was also focused on replacing what we took. Plus, my cardiologist put me on medication that comes with a high miscarriage rate so we weren't even able to cycle if we wanted.
Then came the news that forever changed my life and November was all about him. Don't get me wrong, I did sob over the fact that I would never see him hold my child but mainly I focused on him. When he died, a baby was the last thing on my mind and most days it still is. But, some days, the ache for a child hits me so hard that it leaves me stunned. I long to look into the eyes of my child and see something of my Dad left to remind me, to comfort me. Which, considering the azoo, makes a biological child unlikely. But it's still there, the want for a child that looks like me, like my Dad. I know it's all wrapped up and intertwined right now since his loss is so fresh. I know I am perfectly happy with adoption. But oh man does my heart beg for a piece of my Dad. A tangible part of the incredible man whom I adored. Who taught me what it is to be this strong, feisty and independent person I am. A man who was taken from me too soon.
The days I want a baby are usually after a really difficult day for me. The days were it's a challenge to get dressed and be normal, when the tears are frequent and the memories overwhelming. There are few comforts and fewer distraction on those days, those are the days I just want my Dad. I want to drive up to his house and see him sitting outside. I want to walk up to him with a big smile as I say, "Hi, Dad!" while he looks up at me with his honey colored eyes, grins back and says, "Hey, Amanda." I want that so badly. Just as badly as I want to have my child.
Grieving while struggling with infertility is an odd combo, on one hand I'm familiar with the grieving associated with IF but on the other hand, this grief is so very different. Up until this, IF was the worst thing that had ever happened to me but now it pales in comparison to burying my Dad. IF doesn't seem so scary now and I don't really worry or obsess over it anymore. I know this can all change the further I get in my grief and I know it can all change after we actually start towards getting our baby but right now this is what it is.
I keep wishing I could go back in time to a year ago. Hug my Dad tighter, tell him constantly I love him and how special he is to me, never leave Texas so I could spend hours just soaking him up...and mainly, I would run, not walk, to my IVF clinic and see him hold my newborn.
Then came the news that forever changed my life and November was all about him. Don't get me wrong, I did sob over the fact that I would never see him hold my child but mainly I focused on him. When he died, a baby was the last thing on my mind and most days it still is. But, some days, the ache for a child hits me so hard that it leaves me stunned. I long to look into the eyes of my child and see something of my Dad left to remind me, to comfort me. Which, considering the azoo, makes a biological child unlikely. But it's still there, the want for a child that looks like me, like my Dad. I know it's all wrapped up and intertwined right now since his loss is so fresh. I know I am perfectly happy with adoption. But oh man does my heart beg for a piece of my Dad. A tangible part of the incredible man whom I adored. Who taught me what it is to be this strong, feisty and independent person I am. A man who was taken from me too soon.
The days I want a baby are usually after a really difficult day for me. The days were it's a challenge to get dressed and be normal, when the tears are frequent and the memories overwhelming. There are few comforts and fewer distraction on those days, those are the days I just want my Dad. I want to drive up to his house and see him sitting outside. I want to walk up to him with a big smile as I say, "Hi, Dad!" while he looks up at me with his honey colored eyes, grins back and says, "Hey, Amanda." I want that so badly. Just as badly as I want to have my child.
Grieving while struggling with infertility is an odd combo, on one hand I'm familiar with the grieving associated with IF but on the other hand, this grief is so very different. Up until this, IF was the worst thing that had ever happened to me but now it pales in comparison to burying my Dad. IF doesn't seem so scary now and I don't really worry or obsess over it anymore. I know this can all change the further I get in my grief and I know it can all change after we actually start towards getting our baby but right now this is what it is.
I keep wishing I could go back in time to a year ago. Hug my Dad tighter, tell him constantly I love him and how special he is to me, never leave Texas so I could spend hours just soaking him up...and mainly, I would run, not walk, to my IVF clinic and see him hold my newborn.
July 20, 2011
Cancer Sucks
The doctor's official prognosis is not good. He feels that the chemo is killing my Dad faster than the cancer is and believes that it's best to stop treatment and enter hospice care. The problem is he is just too weak and losing too much weight and the weakness stems from the stroke and the weight loss from tumors pressing against his digestive tract. So, it's just bad all around.
I spent the past two days very depressed and weepy as I started to think about making arrangements to move to TX for the remainder of the year and gathering information about funerals. I also started thinking about where my Dad would like to take a trip while he's still feeling good. It is a very heartbreaking thought that I'm going to lose my Dad. I feel like there is still so much he needs to teach me, so much he needs to see me accomplish and so many memories that I am being robbed of and of course, that my child will never know my Dad is the worst thought of all. Losing my Dad will be the biggest heartbreak of my life, the infertility pales in comparison for me.
But my Dad wants to keep fighting, he isn't ready to give up, so we're in the process of getting a second opinion. Frankly, I am quite pissed that MD_Anderson is giving up on my Dad so easily after only 3 rounds of chemo. I mean, really?! 3 rounds and you're calling it over? They can fuck off if they think we're going to accept that and take my Dad home to die. We're fighters, we fought to keep him alive while doctors urged us to turn off the life support, we fought to get him the treatment he deserved and we fought to bring him back to us. We're not about to let ANYONE take him away. At least, not without a fight. They clearly underestimate my family and our determination. Idiots.
So today I woke up feeling somewhat better, able to ignore the bitterness and sadness a little more today than yesterday. His second opinion appointment is in August and I eagerly await it. After all, I know firsthand how much a second opinion can save your ass.
I spent the past two days very depressed and weepy as I started to think about making arrangements to move to TX for the remainder of the year and gathering information about funerals. I also started thinking about where my Dad would like to take a trip while he's still feeling good. It is a very heartbreaking thought that I'm going to lose my Dad. I feel like there is still so much he needs to teach me, so much he needs to see me accomplish and so many memories that I am being robbed of and of course, that my child will never know my Dad is the worst thought of all. Losing my Dad will be the biggest heartbreak of my life, the infertility pales in comparison for me.
But my Dad wants to keep fighting, he isn't ready to give up, so we're in the process of getting a second opinion. Frankly, I am quite pissed that MD_Anderson is giving up on my Dad so easily after only 3 rounds of chemo. I mean, really?! 3 rounds and you're calling it over? They can fuck off if they think we're going to accept that and take my Dad home to die. We're fighters, we fought to keep him alive while doctors urged us to turn off the life support, we fought to get him the treatment he deserved and we fought to bring him back to us. We're not about to let ANYONE take him away. At least, not without a fight. They clearly underestimate my family and our determination. Idiots.
So today I woke up feeling somewhat better, able to ignore the bitterness and sadness a little more today than yesterday. His second opinion appointment is in August and I eagerly await it. After all, I know firsthand how much a second opinion can save your ass.
February 27, 2011
one step forward and fifty back
Sorry for disappearing, it was a much needed mental break. I escaped to Houston for a bit and while it wasn't as relaxing as I had hoped, it still felt good to be around my family. While I was there, and missing C desperately, he was sent to work in Pennsylvania. He should be home this week though and I can't wait to see him.
C and I weathered a big setback recently in regards to our IVF, one that makes me want to curl up in bed and not get out. We had to step in and loan my parents a rather large amount of money, it was actually half of what we saved for IVF. The bad economy coupled with my Dad's limited capabilities got them into a tough situation and we were the only ones able to help. So we did and I'd do it again because I love them and hate seeing them suffer.
But is it upsetting and depressing? You fucking bet. I cried bitterly and yelled and was mean to C. I hate IF with a passion that burns with a thousand suns. I hate that C's company doesn't cover IF and that our insurance company is being a giant douche about pre-existing conditions. I hate that we have to pay thousands of dollars to TRY and have a baby. I hate that my Dad had a massive bilateral stroke. I hate that the economy is so crappy. I hate that my Mom cries so much and worries for their future. I hate that my Dad is so brain damaged that he is unable to grasp the severity of their problems. Right now, life seems pretty damn mean and unfair.
So, as you can see, right now isn't a good time for me. I'm angry and bitter and depressed and just plain sad. I kept saying that it felt like our turn would never come and right now, it truly seems that way. Here we stand, missing half of what we need and scared it'll always be something that pops up to ruin our chance.
I keep telling myself that at least it's only half, it could be worse and thank the Lord C and I were able to help my parents. I am grateful for that. I also know that we can do this and we can save what we need by the end of Summer. We went from cycling in April to hopefully cycling in August, making that call again to a RE about rescheduling almost took my last shred of hope.
I do have one little shred of hope left because we want a baby so damn bad and nothing will stop us. Nothing.
C and I weathered a big setback recently in regards to our IVF, one that makes me want to curl up in bed and not get out. We had to step in and loan my parents a rather large amount of money, it was actually half of what we saved for IVF. The bad economy coupled with my Dad's limited capabilities got them into a tough situation and we were the only ones able to help. So we did and I'd do it again because I love them and hate seeing them suffer.
But is it upsetting and depressing? You fucking bet. I cried bitterly and yelled and was mean to C. I hate IF with a passion that burns with a thousand suns. I hate that C's company doesn't cover IF and that our insurance company is being a giant douche about pre-existing conditions. I hate that we have to pay thousands of dollars to TRY and have a baby. I hate that my Dad had a massive bilateral stroke. I hate that the economy is so crappy. I hate that my Mom cries so much and worries for their future. I hate that my Dad is so brain damaged that he is unable to grasp the severity of their problems. Right now, life seems pretty damn mean and unfair.
So, as you can see, right now isn't a good time for me. I'm angry and bitter and depressed and just plain sad. I kept saying that it felt like our turn would never come and right now, it truly seems that way. Here we stand, missing half of what we need and scared it'll always be something that pops up to ruin our chance.
I keep telling myself that at least it's only half, it could be worse and thank the Lord C and I were able to help my parents. I am grateful for that. I also know that we can do this and we can save what we need by the end of Summer. We went from cycling in April to hopefully cycling in August, making that call again to a RE about rescheduling almost took my last shred of hope.
I do have one little shred of hope left because we want a baby so damn bad and nothing will stop us. Nothing.
June 22, 2010
Interesting News
I've told you about my midwife friend, R, who has been dealing with IF for seven years. She just gets it and we often have dinners that stretch on for hours as we talk about IF, our hubbies, their job, life, etc. We had lunch together a week and a half ago and something she said has given us a new perspective. We are meeting a social worker on Sunday.
At our lunch, R mentioned a fellow midwife friend of hers who works in a large, poor Hispanic community here in Arkansas. She often calls R with babies available for adoption and R was wondering if I would be ok with her passing on my name to her. I didn't even think about it before blurting out, "Yes, of course!" To which R reminded me I should probably talk it over with C first...hahaha! Well, it planted a seed in my mind and C and I spent a few days talking about it but then he got busy and we just kinda dropped it. Until a day or so ago when C brought it up and mentioned how excited he was about the possibility. He even told his two closest friends about it, which shocked the hell out of me. Since we hadn't continued to discuss it, I thought the subject was closed.
Guess not! I emailed R that same day with confirmation to give out my name. So R has, to the midwife and to a fellow friend of hers who is the head of a local pregnancy crisis center. R even knows a social worker and a lawyer who both donate their services for little to no cost! How incredible is that?! R's connections run deep and I am eternally grateful to have her as my friend. So much so that C and I are meeting the social worker on Sunday!
I'm overwhelmed to say the least and excited, scared, worried, panicked and hopeful all at the same time. None of this means we will come home with a baby tomorrow, next month or even next year. All it means is we are going to talk to a social worker. I was even hesitant to blog about this because what if nothing comes of the meeting? But, I am such a mix of emotions that I had to get it off my chest.
All I know for sure is that regardless of the outcome of the meeting, it doesn't mean that we are giving up on IVF, we can do both and we will. It just means there are more options for us and that is an incredible feeling.
At our lunch, R mentioned a fellow midwife friend of hers who works in a large, poor Hispanic community here in Arkansas. She often calls R with babies available for adoption and R was wondering if I would be ok with her passing on my name to her. I didn't even think about it before blurting out, "Yes, of course!" To which R reminded me I should probably talk it over with C first...hahaha! Well, it planted a seed in my mind and C and I spent a few days talking about it but then he got busy and we just kinda dropped it. Until a day or so ago when C brought it up and mentioned how excited he was about the possibility. He even told his two closest friends about it, which shocked the hell out of me. Since we hadn't continued to discuss it, I thought the subject was closed.
Guess not! I emailed R that same day with confirmation to give out my name. So R has, to the midwife and to a fellow friend of hers who is the head of a local pregnancy crisis center. R even knows a social worker and a lawyer who both donate their services for little to no cost! How incredible is that?! R's connections run deep and I am eternally grateful to have her as my friend. So much so that C and I are meeting the social worker on Sunday!
I'm overwhelmed to say the least and excited, scared, worried, panicked and hopeful all at the same time. None of this means we will come home with a baby tomorrow, next month or even next year. All it means is we are going to talk to a social worker. I was even hesitant to blog about this because what if nothing comes of the meeting? But, I am such a mix of emotions that I had to get it off my chest.
All I know for sure is that regardless of the outcome of the meeting, it doesn't mean that we are giving up on IVF, we can do both and we will. It just means there are more options for us and that is an incredible feeling.
April 29, 2010
What if?
I've been honoring National Infertility Awareness Week with a different FB status every day. I've been telling FB about what infertility is, how much IUI and IVF cost and how many states provide coverage. The feedback has been interesting, most haven't commented but a few have with positive comments. I'm sure I am annoying people but I don't care, we need more IF awareness so I am delighted to take part in Bloggers Unite: Project IF and answer my What If? question. But, since I have so many, I'm just going to list them:
* What if I never know how C truly feels about his azoospermia and how it has affected him?
* What if there is no sperm the day of the biopsy for our IVF?
* What if my eggs are horrible?
* What if the embryos fail to grow?
* What if I miscarry?
* What if I never get to be called "Mom" or hear C be called "Dad"?
The "what ifs" keep me awake at night. They drive me to tears and have me begging God they don't come true. The "what ifs" started to rule my life and almost drove me crazy. IF was all I talked about, thought about, obsessed about and read about. A couple of days ago, I asked C what IF has done to our marriage and he quickly answered with, "It's all we are now." It made me so sad and I realized that I can't let the "what ifs" rule me anymore. I have to take my life back, our lives back. I know I can't go back to being who I was before IF entered our lives, I'm not that same person anymore. But I can learn to live with IF and adjust to the changes it has brought to us. I can start being a normal person again, just a new kind of normal than before. I can let IF run my life or I can live my life, it's up to me.
These revelations got me thinking about this break we are on and brought up the most shocking "what if" yet, What if this break is the best thing for us? Last year was spent in tears and doctor offices. From January to June, it was a monthly race to my period and from July to December, azoo ran our lives. It was a truly awful year for us. We didn't go on vacation, spend a day hiking a local mountain, go anywhere but Houston or not talk about IF for a whole day, it was all doctors, surgeries, research and IF. We simply can't go on like that anymore, we're all out of steam. As much as this break sucks and as devastated as we are, this is the best thing for us right now. A nice mental break to save more money and pay off debt. I have no doubt that by early next year, we are going to be all geared up for our first, and hopefully only, IVF.
The past few days have been mentally exhausting but I feel a peace that has been missing for quite some time. We both do, it's amazing. I'm going back to school so I can finally get my BA and I just might get a real job. C hasn't smoked in 2 weeks and goes jogging every night. I'm going to start a local IF support group since there isn't a Resolve one in our area and I'm really excited about it. We're going to start attending Church regularly and are going to plan a real vacation. We have plans to go hiking next week, weather permitting. We are living our lives again and it feels good. The journey has shaped us, but it will not become us.
We are infertile but that doesn't define us anymore. What if that is the best lesson of all?
www.resolve.org/infertility101
www.resolve.org/takecharge
http://www.stirrup-queens.com/2010/04/bloggers-unite-project-if/
(sorry if they aren't working, it's being all wonky for me)
* What if I never know how C truly feels about his azoospermia and how it has affected him?
* What if there is no sperm the day of the biopsy for our IVF?
* What if my eggs are horrible?
* What if the embryos fail to grow?
* What if I miscarry?
* What if I never get to be called "Mom" or hear C be called "Dad"?
The "what ifs" keep me awake at night. They drive me to tears and have me begging God they don't come true. The "what ifs" started to rule my life and almost drove me crazy. IF was all I talked about, thought about, obsessed about and read about. A couple of days ago, I asked C what IF has done to our marriage and he quickly answered with, "It's all we are now." It made me so sad and I realized that I can't let the "what ifs" rule me anymore. I have to take my life back, our lives back. I know I can't go back to being who I was before IF entered our lives, I'm not that same person anymore. But I can learn to live with IF and adjust to the changes it has brought to us. I can start being a normal person again, just a new kind of normal than before. I can let IF run my life or I can live my life, it's up to me.
These revelations got me thinking about this break we are on and brought up the most shocking "what if" yet, What if this break is the best thing for us? Last year was spent in tears and doctor offices. From January to June, it was a monthly race to my period and from July to December, azoo ran our lives. It was a truly awful year for us. We didn't go on vacation, spend a day hiking a local mountain, go anywhere but Houston or not talk about IF for a whole day, it was all doctors, surgeries, research and IF. We simply can't go on like that anymore, we're all out of steam. As much as this break sucks and as devastated as we are, this is the best thing for us right now. A nice mental break to save more money and pay off debt. I have no doubt that by early next year, we are going to be all geared up for our first, and hopefully only, IVF.
The past few days have been mentally exhausting but I feel a peace that has been missing for quite some time. We both do, it's amazing. I'm going back to school so I can finally get my BA and I just might get a real job. C hasn't smoked in 2 weeks and goes jogging every night. I'm going to start a local IF support group since there isn't a Resolve one in our area and I'm really excited about it. We're going to start attending Church regularly and are going to plan a real vacation. We have plans to go hiking next week, weather permitting. We are living our lives again and it feels good. The journey has shaped us, but it will not become us.
We are infertile but that doesn't define us anymore. What if that is the best lesson of all?
www.resolve.org/infertility101
www.resolve.org/takecharge
http://www.stirrup-queens.com/2010/04/bloggers-unite-project-if/
(sorry if they aren't working, it's being all wonky for me)
April 27, 2010
What Now?
The disappointment is heavy on my heart and it just all feels so impossible right now. There is this ache inside of me, an emptiness where a baby belongs and I feel it so profoundly these days. It seems like we will never get to experience the one thing we desire with our entire being. I feel hopeless and that is the worst feeling.
We've been going over numbers and redoing them over and over again. We can afford the loan but it would be tight. If/When the IVF works, adding the costs of a pregnancy and a baby (or two) would just be too uncomfortable for us. We simply can't do that to our child. We don't want to enter parenthood worried about money. It was a very cold feeling when the realization hit us, we stayed up very late going over and over it all. I so desperately wish money wasn't standing in the way of our dreams.
But, we do have a tentative plan in place. If it all works out, then maybe something can happen by the end of the Summer but definitely by Spring we should be cycling. I'm praying like crazy and trying to be hopeful.
I gaze at the sky nightly and make a wish, seriously- without fail, I wish on a star every night. Just a few minutes ago, I let the dogs out to go potty. I glanced up at the sky and saw a shooting star. I instantly made a wish and laughed. Laughed because I haven't seen a shooting star in years, despite my repeated request to God to show me one as a sign of hope. I've been begging God for quite some time to give me the sign I so desperately need and tonight, he did. Guess there is hope after all.
We've been going over numbers and redoing them over and over again. We can afford the loan but it would be tight. If/When the IVF works, adding the costs of a pregnancy and a baby (or two) would just be too uncomfortable for us. We simply can't do that to our child. We don't want to enter parenthood worried about money. It was a very cold feeling when the realization hit us, we stayed up very late going over and over it all. I so desperately wish money wasn't standing in the way of our dreams.
But, we do have a tentative plan in place. If it all works out, then maybe something can happen by the end of the Summer but definitely by Spring we should be cycling. I'm praying like crazy and trying to be hopeful.
I gaze at the sky nightly and make a wish, seriously- without fail, I wish on a star every night. Just a few minutes ago, I let the dogs out to go potty. I glanced up at the sky and saw a shooting star. I instantly made a wish and laughed. Laughed because I haven't seen a shooting star in years, despite my repeated request to God to show me one as a sign of hope. I've been begging God for quite some time to give me the sign I so desperately need and tonight, he did. Guess there is hope after all.
April 25, 2010
calling off our IVF
Stupid, stupid, stupid...that is all I keep hearing in my head. The finances just can't be managed right now, we need to save some more and pay off some more before getting a loan the size we need for IVF. I guess now our aim is to be ready by the end of the year but more then likely, it won't be until next Spring.
I'm heartbroken and have spent the weekend crying. It seriously feels like it will never be our turn.
I'm heartbroken and have spent the weekend crying. It seriously feels like it will never be our turn.
April 20, 2010
Relationships
I have a complicated relationship with my Mom, it's always been this way. She had a rough childhood and it made her a very un-trusting person and a very overprotective mother. She almost smothered us with her presence and it was so hard to please her, it still is. It's almost like she can't let herself be happy and drama seems to follow her. The months leading up to my wedding were especially bad for us, she was so unhappy about C and I moving two hours away that she wouldn't help me plan. She's not the type to talk about her feelings or emotions so instead of telling me how she felt, she was very passive aggressive. By the time my wedding rolled around, I was so happy to get away from her that I swore to not visit for a few months.
Our relationship improved dramatically once I moved out, not surprising since she is a very difficult person to live with. I feel bad writing all this bad stuff about her, she isn't a monster, she is just very complicated and that spills over to her relationships. She can be just amazing and funny and strong too. It's almost like she is bipolar and I would love for her to see a doctor but she refuses.
Ever since our IVF got moved to Houston, I've been telling her that I would like to stay with her while we were cycling. My old room is huge and is just perfect for me and my two dogs. She was so happy about it and agreed it would be perfect for me to stay with her. Until yesterday, when we were getting ready to skype and I overheard her complaining about me to my sister. We got into a huge fight about it and I cried for hours. The root of the problem? My fears about the IVF and how much I don't feel supported by my family. It scares me that C and I are truly alone in this fight against IF. Scares me because I don't want to feel alone and IVF is scary because it could potentially not work and that would just crush us. Nobody gets it and that hurts almost as much as the IF crap.
So, I'm not speaking to my Mom or my sister and I am overwhelmed with sadness about it all. The fight, our IF, the IVF, the money and just about everything else. I just want to forget about it all and pretend this isn't my life for a while. Cause running away from your problems is much easier than dealing with them.
Our relationship improved dramatically once I moved out, not surprising since she is a very difficult person to live with. I feel bad writing all this bad stuff about her, she isn't a monster, she is just very complicated and that spills over to her relationships. She can be just amazing and funny and strong too. It's almost like she is bipolar and I would love for her to see a doctor but she refuses.
Ever since our IVF got moved to Houston, I've been telling her that I would like to stay with her while we were cycling. My old room is huge and is just perfect for me and my two dogs. She was so happy about it and agreed it would be perfect for me to stay with her. Until yesterday, when we were getting ready to skype and I overheard her complaining about me to my sister. We got into a huge fight about it and I cried for hours. The root of the problem? My fears about the IVF and how much I don't feel supported by my family. It scares me that C and I are truly alone in this fight against IF. Scares me because I don't want to feel alone and IVF is scary because it could potentially not work and that would just crush us. Nobody gets it and that hurts almost as much as the IF crap.
So, I'm not speaking to my Mom or my sister and I am overwhelmed with sadness about it all. The fight, our IF, the IVF, the money and just about everything else. I just want to forget about it all and pretend this isn't my life for a while. Cause running away from your problems is much easier than dealing with them.
April 2, 2010
Penguins and IVF
It looks like we will have all the money stuff done in the next two weeks! I am so incredibly excited and very anxious to get it all rolling! SQUEEE!!!!!!
I find the majority of my support from an IF message board on the bump and this past winter we choose a mascot in hopes it would bring us all luck. Have you seen the movie, March of the Penguins? It explains perfectly why the emperor penguin now means so much to us on the board. (If you haven't seen it, read this.) They go through so much for just one little egg, their precious baby. So similar to all of us dealing with IF. I didn't think to load up on penguin stuff this winter so now I'm searching all over for penguin socks, pajamas, etc to wear for the entire IVF process.
I did find this:
Which is so ironically perfect for us. Every year I buy an ornament to represent the year for us and I've been doing this since our first Christmas together in 1999. It's a lovely tradition that I can't wait to share with our child. 2009 represented a lot of sadness for us with the azoo diagnosis and I didn't know how to pick an ornament for that, didn't want to actually. I was thrilled to come across this one and it sums up 2009 perfectly. IF but still so damn hopeful we will end up with our own perfect little baby.
I find the majority of my support from an IF message board on the bump and this past winter we choose a mascot in hopes it would bring us all luck. Have you seen the movie, March of the Penguins? It explains perfectly why the emperor penguin now means so much to us on the board. (If you haven't seen it, read this.) They go through so much for just one little egg, their precious baby. So similar to all of us dealing with IF. I didn't think to load up on penguin stuff this winter so now I'm searching all over for penguin socks, pajamas, etc to wear for the entire IVF process.
I did find this:
Which is so ironically perfect for us. Every year I buy an ornament to represent the year for us and I've been doing this since our first Christmas together in 1999. It's a lovely tradition that I can't wait to share with our child. 2009 represented a lot of sadness for us with the azoo diagnosis and I didn't know how to pick an ornament for that, didn't want to actually. I was thrilled to come across this one and it sums up 2009 perfectly. IF but still so damn hopeful we will end up with our own perfect little baby.
March 28, 2010
2 Years
I've attempted this blog a dozen times this past week but each time I sat down, the words just escaped me. I had no clue what to write about an upcoming "anniversary", our 2 years of TTC one. Not exactly one that C can go out and buy a card for. One that I would gladly skip. But, there it is, staring at me from the calendar and there is nothing I can do about it.
I remember our decision to start trying, we had just been preapproved for a house and I had just been diagnosed with PCOS. We took both of these to be signs to hop on it and eagerly began daydreaming about our child. My baby fever boiled over and I was soon googling cribs, bedding and strollers. I bought a baby name book and a pregnancy guide, both of which I skimmed almost nightly. I started buying onesies and tiny socks and hanging them in the spare closet. When we found our home, I immediately declared the sunniest room in the house to be our baby's room.
I can't believe it's been 2 years. 2 years and nothing to show for it but scars on our bodies and hearts. The onesies have been hidden deep in my closet, the books given away and the sunny room is used for storage. We keep that door shut. We go about our lives, make plans and pay bills and deal with the hand that has been dealt. Most days are fine but those bad IF days can be killers. The days when my heart just screams over and over what is missing. Days when I want to gouge out the eyes of every doctor who has told us it's not going to happen, days where babies on TV send a zap of pain through my body. Oh those days...
One of those days is usually Easter, C always works and I am here alone, wishing I had a kid to take hunting for eggs. This year my parents and younger brother are coming up for a visit, they will be a good distraction from my empty uterus. Then, three days after Easter, it'll officially be 2 years. I'll be conscious of it all day but I'm not going to let it win, I'll be too busy living my life for that. I'm going shopping, getting a pedicure and having dinner with a good friend, where many margaritas will be consumed. I'm sure a few tears will show up but that's ok. I have so much to look forward to for them to get me depressed. I have an IVF to plan and a baby to dream about.
(Hop over to congratulate Kenny at Infertility and Me for his recent amazing news. Kenny and Jess are expecting a baby after kicking azoo's ass!!)
I remember our decision to start trying, we had just been preapproved for a house and I had just been diagnosed with PCOS. We took both of these to be signs to hop on it and eagerly began daydreaming about our child. My baby fever boiled over and I was soon googling cribs, bedding and strollers. I bought a baby name book and a pregnancy guide, both of which I skimmed almost nightly. I started buying onesies and tiny socks and hanging them in the spare closet. When we found our home, I immediately declared the sunniest room in the house to be our baby's room.
I can't believe it's been 2 years. 2 years and nothing to show for it but scars on our bodies and hearts. The onesies have been hidden deep in my closet, the books given away and the sunny room is used for storage. We keep that door shut. We go about our lives, make plans and pay bills and deal with the hand that has been dealt. Most days are fine but those bad IF days can be killers. The days when my heart just screams over and over what is missing. Days when I want to gouge out the eyes of every doctor who has told us it's not going to happen, days where babies on TV send a zap of pain through my body. Oh those days...
One of those days is usually Easter, C always works and I am here alone, wishing I had a kid to take hunting for eggs. This year my parents and younger brother are coming up for a visit, they will be a good distraction from my empty uterus. Then, three days after Easter, it'll officially be 2 years. I'll be conscious of it all day but I'm not going to let it win, I'll be too busy living my life for that. I'm going shopping, getting a pedicure and having dinner with a good friend, where many margaritas will be consumed. I'm sure a few tears will show up but that's ok. I have so much to look forward to for them to get me depressed. I have an IVF to plan and a baby to dream about.
(Hop over to congratulate Kenny at Infertility and Me for his recent amazing news. Kenny and Jess are expecting a baby after kicking azoo's ass!!)
March 18, 2010
Religion vs IF
I had dinner the other night with a new friend, I've mentioned her before, she's been dealing with IF for seven years and is a midwife. I am in awe of her ability to deliver babies while not being able to have one of her own. She's a very nice person, very strong in her faith, and not shy about sharing her opinions. She very bluntly tells me that she is worried for my marriage. IF has made her marriage very hard, she and her husband don't even talk about IF anymore. They can't seem to decide on a treatment and because they are very devoutly Catholic, they are limited in what they can do.
C and I were raised Catholic, married in a Catholic Church and always wanted to raise our children Catholic as well. That is until IF came into our life and we read about the Church's stance on IVF, talk about a punch to the gut. But, honestly, I shouldn't have been surprised. The Church isn't exactly known for being progressive! I'm 80% sure we are leaving the Catholic Church. Only 80% because we have two godchildren and both of our families are Catholic. I can't imagine my ILs being very happy about us leaving the Church. Not that I care what they think!
[edited to protect the innocent!]
My faith is important to me and I maintain a relationship with God. I pray, give praise, and ask for blessings. I am confused about Jesus, sometimes I just have so many doubts and other times, I feel strongly Christian. I guess my status with Jesus would read: It's Complicated. But, I don't feel guilty about that, I'm human and all I can do is try. I don't think God thinks badly of me for that and I can't imagine God disapproving of C and I bringing a child into this life via IVF. It's a child, regardless of how he/she is created. And, don't most religions preach that life begins at conception? Tell me then, does IVF conception not apply to that same belief?
C and I were raised Catholic, married in a Catholic Church and always wanted to raise our children Catholic as well. That is until IF came into our life and we read about the Church's stance on IVF, talk about a punch to the gut. But, honestly, I shouldn't have been surprised. The Church isn't exactly known for being progressive! I'm 80% sure we are leaving the Catholic Church. Only 80% because we have two godchildren and both of our families are Catholic. I can't imagine my ILs being very happy about us leaving the Church. Not that I care what they think!
[edited to protect the innocent!]
My faith is important to me and I maintain a relationship with God. I pray, give praise, and ask for blessings. I am confused about Jesus, sometimes I just have so many doubts and other times, I feel strongly Christian. I guess my status with Jesus would read: It's Complicated. But, I don't feel guilty about that, I'm human and all I can do is try. I don't think God thinks badly of me for that and I can't imagine God disapproving of C and I bringing a child into this life via IVF. It's a child, regardless of how he/she is created. And, don't most religions preach that life begins at conception? Tell me then, does IVF conception not apply to that same belief?
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