Hello world!
Haha… I know it’s probably lame… but I actually like the title of the “first post” that wordpress gives you. I think it’s appropriate.
I guess I should start out on how I ended up here. It all started with a realtor… er… sort of. Well, I was trying to sell my house. Used a realtor, she was lazy, and useless, and I did most of the work, and I was looking for a way to (legally) end the contract. (read: fire her lazy ass) While in my travels along the long and winding road that google often takes us, I found a blog. Particularly a blog post about a realtor, not unlike mine, who just wasn’t doing their job… it made me laugh, it made me cry (because I was laughing so hard), it was just soooo perfect for how I was feeling at the time. I became addicted.
Thus, my days of stalker-ish lurking began. It’s been a few weeks now, and I FINALLY worked up the courage to comment on the main object of my stalking… and she replied!!! holy cow and omg!! I warranted a REPLY!!!! And now… the blogging bug has hit me full-force. Maybe the world DOES really care, maybe there ARE other people like me out there… just waiting to know that they too matter, and that they are not alone in the trials and tribulations of this mortal coil…
hahahahaha… me trying to be existentialistic… haahahahahahahaaha…. but in all seriousness, it’s good to feel accepted… or at least not called out on being the stalker you really are!! lol
more on me and my life later… *sigh* I feel better already!!
Wii Fit is my friend!! Fertility is not….
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!!!!
It is FINALLY here… my wii fit bundle. I searched high and low since it came out to find one… and it just wasn’t ever there. But now, through a stroke of luck, or fluke, or maybe destiny…. I managed to pick up the wii fit this weekend. It is AMAZING!!!
Maybe I’m just saying that since it told me that I’ve lost 5lbs since my last Dr.’s appt. (about 2 weeks ago)… but so far, I LOVE it!!!!
In other news… ok… there IS no other news… I’m waiting patiently for October when I FINALLY get in to see the RE for the first time. I can say that it’s quite the nerve-wracking experience. It’s an interesting situation for us, being that my husband and I are actually experiencing secondary fertility, technically. I guess for him, it’s not. I was already in a serious relationship, while I was quite young. It ended when my daughter was almost a year old, I met my husband when she was four, we married when she was five and a half, and started trying for kids somewhere in between. It instills quite the range of emotions for me. On one hand, there’s gratitude, that I already have a daughter, and she’s the light of my life; there’s also guilt, that she’s NOT my husband’s biological daughter, and though you’d never know the difference unless someone mentioned it, I know… and that’s what really matters. I feel angry and cheated because it was so easy with my daughter… one slip with a condom (while on the pill to boot!!) and bam… guess who’s having a baby. And here we are, 2 years into TTC, waiting patiently to see a specialist who MAY or may not be able to help.
Which brings me to another moment of weakness. I had my first “is this worth it?” moment this weekend. I’ve been checking and re-checking the statistics on fertility medications and ARTs practically religiously. The stats never change, but somehow over the course of the weekend, part of me lost hope. MOST of me is excited, and hopeful, and looking forward to the day when I FINALLY get that new bundle of joy in my arms, but a teeny tiny part sits there, smug and self-satisfied saying “it’s never going to happen… and even if it does, you’re going to PAY for it.” And by pay, I don’t just mean the mucho $$$$ it’s going to cost to see the RE… I’m talking pain, and loss, and all the OTHER fun stuff that comes WITH seeing the RE. Thus far, we’ve managed to avoid the pain of having an M/C… only because we’ve never BEEN pregnant, but still… I’m TERRIFIED of all the what ifs… even the “what if we have multiples, more than I can carry, and we have to PICK some???” I know, it’s pretty far-fetched… but the mind does strange things in this seemingly never-ending quest of TTC. I guess what it really boils down to, is that I feel like an utter basket-case. They should SERIOUSLY consider issuing a straight-jacket and happy pills to anyone even CONSIDERING TTC.
So, I guess that’s my rant for the day…
dadada daaaaaaaaaa!!! (insert drumroll here)…
Well, this is REALLY nothing new for me, but I can’t bloody sleep. It’s actually early yet… only just past midnight, so if I went to bed, and IMMEDIATELY fell asleep, I’d probably function pretty well getting up at 630…. but, the actual ODDS of me falling asleep= slim to none… So here I sit, with nothing really to say, but bored out of my skull, antsy, and tired, but not sleepy…. boourns!!!
multiple personalities???
Ok… People reading this (hahahaha… like there’s actually REAL people reading this!! hahahahaha) are going to think I’m cracked in the skull!! My post yesterday was angry and… more angry… and used lots of “potty mouth” words! Today’s post, I am in happy land!!! la la la!! For starters, I’ve been attempting DESPERATELY to lose some weight… Like I said in my “about me” section (and I wasn’t being down on myself, I wasn’t joking, I am SERIOUS!!) I am chubby!!! Not morbidly obese… not even obese really, just chubby… and on a 5′2″ frame, chubby looks something akin to shamu… Ok.. ok… I know.. tangent… must rein in mouth…er, fingers???
So, I’ve been trying desperately to lose some weight, the whole “healthy bodyweight” and pregnancy thing… helping with the PCOS (I DID mention that’s part of the reason for my infertility right???) and up till now, I have gotten NOTHING for my hard work (other than the measly 5lbs the wii-fit told me I lost, which I have now chalked up to merely a difference in scales), and then, in a miracle moment of mental breakdown, I tried on “THE dress”. And it actually FIT!!!! woooooooooot!!! I bought this dress for a wedding. (first clothing purchase online EVER!! -and probably my LAST!!) Made a mistake on the ordering page while trying to scroll down to the “finalize purchase” button…. forgot to click off the size selection window… ended up with a dress almost 2 sizes too small…. even MORE stupid is the fact that I WAITED to buy it until it was on clearance…. NO returns/exchanges… boourns!!! So yeah… “THE dress” was relegated back into it’s itty bitty shipping box with the tissue paper, until we moved and I decided to “let it out” so to speak.. into the closet anyway… the very very BACK of the closet… where I hoped to never see the reminder of my stupidity and shame… until last night… I had a bad day… (if you’re feeling REALLY brave, or aren’t easily offended, see yesterday’s post) and to worsen matters, I decided to start looking for a NEW dress for ANOTHER wedding. ugh… after speaking with my M.I.L. (who’s actually really really wonderful) and having her suggest ANOTHER dress I own, (which, looks fabulous, but makes me feel like crap for totally un-fashion-related reasons — a story for another day) I sat myself down for a good cry… and it was there… out of the corner of my eye, a flash of blue silk with embroidered black mesh overtop… with sparkles (ok… that sounds TOTALLY lame… but i’ll post a pic of “THE dress” and you’ll see it’s not all that bad!!)… and I thought, what the hell, this day can’t get any suckier… so I unzip the side zipper, pull the thing over my head, and proceed to brace myself for the wrestling match, and ensuing dissapointment at my still-corpulent state…. but wait!!! The zipper moved… and then moved some more…. and a little more… and HOLY CRAP!!!! I got the damn thing on!!! WOOOOHOOOO!!!!
See?? I TOLD you it wasn’t that bad!!! That’s not me by the way.. that’s the model from the website I ordered “THE” dress from…
(yes, I kept the picture… yes I’m neurotic.. but i’m used to it!!!)
Boobs suck!!! or- why i hate eating soup!!!
So this is more-or-less just a random bitch-fest post… it probably won’t make sense to alot of people…. but here’s the story anyhow…
I have big boobs. Always have, probably always will. Lose weight, boobs don’t shrink; get a reduction, boobs grow back… I just can’t win… I know, I know, lots of women PAY for large breasts (god only knows what they’re thinking!!) but IF by some miracle I managed to get rid of some of my boobs, I would!! So, either way… I have learned to live with the massive flabs of chesty stuff sticking out of me. Until I started losing weight… and now, once again, eating has become a challenge. My stomach no longer pushes me back a certain degree from the table, and so, the boobs have become more of an obstacle. If I already had my new camera, I would just show you all (all?? uh??? all of who??? lmao) what kind of ordeal eating can be… I SERIOUSLY need a bib…. so I bend down to eat a spoonful of soup… drip drip drip… all down the front of my shirt… er.. top of my shirt… heck, I could’ve put a BOWL directly on my chest and probably have it half-filled by the time I was done. So, I do what any other reasonable, sane person might do… I lean closer to the bowl. And low and behold, the miracle that is my chest PUSHES the godforsaken bowl further away!!!! ARGH!!! So, I sit back, move the bowl closer and lean down further only to have the top of my shirt, gaping over now squished boobs…. INTO the soup bowl!!!! Needless to say, I will NEVER eat soup in public!!!
Rambling…
Dear Fertile People,
I hate you.
Thank you, that is all.
Signed,
Bitter Infertile
One month…. I want to be happy… and at some moments I CAN be happy… for her, for them… one fucking month!!!!???? What are the odds???!!! This has GOT to be some kind of joke right??? No.. it’s not… and I’m happy for them… really really I am…. I’m just miserable for me… I HATE this… I just have to keep reminding myself, my time will come…. it IS coming… soon I’ll see the RE… and then I will have my BFP… soon…
but not soon enough
~c~
**warning** don’t read this if you don’t want to read about kids or bad words…
So- as you may or may not know, I live in a small-townish military base in the middle of buttfuck nowhere… It’s very safe and my 8 year old daughter can pretty much run rampant with all the other heathen children- the older kids take care of the younger ones- and like a throwback to another era- pretty much every family with kids watches out for ALL the kids. If my daughter (we’ll call her pottymouthgirl or PMG for short- because that’s the mommyblogger way isn’t it?- and for all intents and purposes, that’s more-or-less what I am) gets into shit- I pretty much know she’s done it before she’s even started getting into it.
The bonus of this is that it makes for a wonderful community feeling. Unfortunately- there’s always gotta be at least ONE asshole- and we have experienced our first run-in with him.
Last eve, PMG was enjoying her first night out with friends in the ‘hood since she got grounded on Monday… They decided to play baseball in one of many small playground areas and were all having a great time, when someone knocked the ball out by some bushes bordering a yard. PMG, knowing there was a dog in the yard on the OTHER SIDE of the bushes, approached the ball without realizing that the dog was able to get THROUGH the bushes (it shouldn’t have been able to). The dog is young, has all it’s shots, and simply wanted to play- PMG, even though she has experience with dogs, weighs all of 50lbs and was knocked flat by the pooch, who’s claws left abrasions, bruising, and a puncture wound about 1/2cm wide and deep- into the muscle of her thigh. She’s now in excruciating pain, taking Motrin every 6 hours, barely able to eat from nausea, and also taking TANK antibiotics for the next week- not to mention that she can barely walk- and therefore, is stuck in the house during one of the most beautiful summers we’ve ever had in my part of the country EVER!!
I spoke last night with the woman who’s home my daughter was at- as well as her older daughter (around age 13) who witnessed what happened. Apparently this isn’t the first time they’ve notified this asshat that his dog is able to exceed the limits of its yard. The poor pup is unfortunately the one who’s going to suffer- if the man refuses to shorten it’s chain, and the dog hurts anyone else- it will likely be put down, or taken away from it’s current owner and placed in the pound- where it will likely be put down.
What pisses me off, is the REFUSAL of the dog’s owner to do anything!! This f’n MORON lives right on the edge of a PLAYGROUND!!! for KIDS!!! THE KIDS ARE GOING TO PLAY THERE!!! The kids are GOING to assume that the dog is properly leashed and contained inside it’s YARD!!! They are KIDS!!!! They are very responsible kids at that- and know better than to go near strange dogs- or at least PMG does- she has been around dogs her entire life- she has actually made herself available as the neighbourhood dog walker- and does so regularly. So why can’t this asshole just be a decent human being and keep his dog INSIDE his yard?? I guess I’ll have to see what he says after I show him the pictures of what his goddamn dog actually DID to my daughter. I made a judgement call to take pictures as opposed to taking her over there just in case- I don’t think it’s wise to have my daughter watch me get all (verbally) stabby on some jackass if he refuses to see my point of view. ugh… fucking stupid dog owners…
2ww
and I feel nothing… not excitement, not trepidation, not analyzing symptoms…. I only know I’m IN the two week wait because I had to look at my calendar today… hmmmm…. is that interesting or weird? I’ve read a LOT of 2ww posts by others- it seems that this time is mostly FILLED with all kinds of emotions ranging from hope to fear- analyzing EVERY little symptom- avoiding caffiene and any other potentially “bad” substance like the bubonic plague- reaching the depths of despair over the possibility of a BFN… and me- I just don’t care… I’m curious as to when is a good day to test- I can’t know for sure if/when I ovulated- because I’m not even keeping track… no temping, no CM checks, no OPKs… paying as little attention as possible to my body… enjoying every minute of being able to take metformin without puking my guts out non-stop. heh- guess if I start puking I’ll know something’s up eh??!!
I almost feel like a NORMAL person- one who obliviously can go on thinking that sex=pregnant. Which then, turns into feeling NOT normal- because I feel GUILT for that… ugh… so many infertiles (and even fertiles- omg don’t get me started on the “friend” who went on for HOURS about her temping and CM and “have you used preseed?? does it work??” do you think we’re doing this right and blah blah blah!!! and oh gawd she’s only been trying for 2 goddamn months!!!) Because does not freaking out mean I don’t want this bad enough? How lucky am I to be able to take a pill, and make love to my husband and just forget about worrying if we get pregnant?? Maybe it’s a defense mechanism for me- I KNOW I can’t control anything from this point. I’ve DONE THE DEED- now it’s up to God, or nature, or my body (which, we already KNOW is an epic fail). I know we didn’t miss ovulation- my husband and I are still more-or-less like newlyweds in that department (we likes our “naps”)… so maybe that’s why I’m not stressed… but why then do I feel this GUILT?? Why is my head telling me I’m a failure to the ALI community by not obsessing?? That I can’t POSSIBLY be this blasè about getting pregnant… Then I think- yeah, getting pregnant isn’t the hard part! (irony- I know… because before the Cocktail of Barfness™ was introduced into my life just getting a period wasn’t a forgone conclusion for me!!) Which brings me to something I actually DO worry about- will I get my period?? Or will I have to take the Provera again? Seriously?? wtf??!! I think this is a sign that maybe I’m not as unobsessive as I think I am- because THIS- wondering if my period will come naturally- or need to be induced- is not something that NORMAL people trying to get pregnant on their own think about- MOST people can (safely) assume that if their period doesn’t come- they are pregnant- I can’t… I never will. So… um… yeah… back to waiting… unobsessively… sort of…
Decisions… decisions…
Um… wow.
A few weeks ago I posted this. Feel free to read it- or just take the summarized version you’ll get here, it’s no skin off my nose! 
Summary: I wrote a letter to a pro-life group to get their assistance/ask for tips & tricks for advocating for preemies. There is a current policy in place in hospitals that dictates that babies born under 24 weeks will not recieve resuscitation- or any other medical care. The gist: my son, born at 23weeks 3days- lived for four hours on his own, but was left to die. The medical community abandoned him as unsaveable- without even trying. Needless to say, I take a bit of offense with this policy that allowed him to die- and I want it GONE. I want the policy to change. But I need help- I can’t do this on my own, and I haven’t the first bloody clue how to go about advocating governments and hospitals, and all the bigwigs to change something. I am just one teeny weeny babylost mama who’s currently taking hormones to try to get pregnant again.
In any case- the agency I contacted sent me the following:
Dear PottyMouthMommy (she used my RL name- I changed it)
I was heart broken reading your email about the loss of your infant son. I called the Manitoba League for Life Office and discussed your story with the Executive Director. She said she has heard of this being done recently, but doesn’t know if it was your story she has heard. She said you should be able to have a copy of the policy the hospital was following and will give you a name of a lawyer who might help you persue litigation or inquiry into this policy.
I also spoke to the Executive Director of Life Canada our national prolife group. She was appalled and wondered if you would like to have your story published nationally. You would have to be willing to let your name be published. This would probably get more attention to the situation than anything else.
There are stories of infants surviving being born at 18 and 19 weeks gestation. I’m sure these are the exception to the rule, but I would assume that a baby of over 23 weeks would have a higher chance of survival if there were no other problems than being born prematurely.
If you would like to speak with me further you could call me. I’ll be home for the next few days.
God Bless
*the lady who I contacted at this organization* (yes, I left her name out too- I want to protect people’s privacy here!!)
and so yeah… While I’m not comfortable pursuing litigation. (it won’t help me accomplish what I want to happen) I’m not entirely sure about going national either. (heh- I’m on the INTERNET- slightly more than national, no? or at least it WOULD be if people actually read this thing!!) What it boils down to is this: I am a chickenshit. I KNOW that I am strong enough to deal with the shitstorm that could very well hit my family. I know there is a chance that I may lose friends. (heh- try not to lose friends when you lose a baby- it’s actually harder than you might think- I can think of at least three people that don’t talk to me anymore because since I lost my son- and I only went batshit on one of them for being an insensitive asshole) I’m afraid of the beating my relationship with my husband might take. I worry about how this will affect my daughter, my family members. And mostly- I am just plain scared. What if I fail?? I wouldn’t JUST be failing Jellybean, my husband, daughter, myself. I’d be failing EVERYONE- everyone who’s standing behind me, hoping that I can make a difference. The friends who look at me and see the strong, outgoing, perpetually sunshiney go-getter- who can GET THINGS DONE. I am supposed to be the one who can take on ANYTHING. But this is huge- really really huge. And I can’t help but feel like this is that big ‘ol kick in the head- a very OBVIOUS ”reason” for Jellybean’s death. (still doesn’t make it easier- but we take what we can get here). Listen to me get all existentialistic- hahahaha.
So should I do it? My gut, my heart, my friends who’ve stuck by me all say yes. My family says “proceed with caution”. My head goes “eep!!!!”. It’s the right thing. But is it the right thing for me?
To My Mommy
I know today is going to be hard for you. And there are so many things I want you to know.
I see how happy you are most days- you are living your life as if tomorrow TRULY might not come. You are living completely in the now- you are travelling to places you’ve always wanted to go- you are living for YOU.
You do not worry about the little things anymore, yet you take joy in all things, great and small.
In all my years, I have seen your pain- the pain of living with an abusive, controlling monster- before finally having the courage to leave. Dealing with a bi-polar teen, and having the courage to let her go back to live with the asshole. Putting up with an alcoholic for years before realizing that nice doesn’t make a person good and that you can’t fix everyone. And finally, having to grieve the man who finally made all the years of losers worth it.
Even though he’s gone, his memories make you smile.
I love you and I’m thinking of you today mom. I wish he was still here too.
~RIP Tim- we love you still and always will. ~
August 5, 1955 – June 23, 2008
T minus 3 days=
Let the Clomid hell begin…
*dun dun daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa* <—- theatrical music indication of scary shit about to happen or a bad omen…
And for those who just HAVE to have the TMI: starting your period while camping SUCKS!!! It REALLY REALLY REALLY sucks… even when you’re happy to be getting it at all…
*editted to add: I must be SERIOUSLY wonky in the head- happy to get a period?? wtf??!!!! Infertility: whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger- but only in the frustrating horror movie why-won’t-the-crazy-person-die!!! kinda way.
**editted again to add: I’m NOT a heartless bitch, nor in a COMPLETELY clueless hole- I realize it is Father’s Day, I’m trying to ignore it for two reasons: One, my *&^&^$%#$#@&^)*&)(*&^ body killed my husband’s first born son two months ago…. and my own father is a fucked up asshole prick who STILL hasn’t called me or offered his condolences. (even when I was visiting him one-on-one he never brought it up- even when my step-mother did her typical “ohmygawdi’msosorryitoldyouthatyourbodywasn’thealthyenoughandit’sjustlikewhenwelostyour sisterblahblahblahandi’msoupsetforyoubutonlybecauseitcangetmesympathy” thing- he said NOTHING.***)
***this isn’t the only fucked up hurtful thing my dad’s done…it’s not even the worst thing. But I’m pretty sure none of you want to hear about the first time he threatened to disown me. (there was some pretty sick and twisted shit going on to say the least)
**** Editted AGAIN to add: I fucking forgot this too- until I looked at my calendar- Tuesday is the 1 year anniversary since my step-dad killed himself… fuck… I’m just glad my mom’s doing ok- she’s planning to put flowers on the grave on Tuesday then take off for a week-long vacation… I wish I could go on vacation too…/sigh
Still Waiting
/sigh…. and so… to continue the theme of the past few weeks/months/years(?) I am going to be morose and depressing.
3 years ago this month- heck let’s narrow it down- next week is the three year anniversary of when I was told by my OBGYN to “go forth and reproduce” (That was more or less his exact words too). It is the anniversary of three years since I had cancer removed from my girly parts- and it never came back. (hooray for that!!) There are people who know me who would never in a million years guess that I’ve had cancer. And while it was very mild, and caught very early, and has never returned, it’s still CANCER- the same cancer that nearly killed my mother. The same cancer that caused my cervix to become what it is today- incompetent.
You could say, I’m lucky that cancer didn’t kill me, that it’s left me untouched- I had bits of cervix removed and now I’m completely healthy and I was lucky they caught it early and all that jazz- but it didn’t.
I am touched by death- the death of my son from my incompetent cervix- I am touched by the broken hearts of myself, my husband, and my daughter. I am touched by the fact that it’s THREE YEARS and I still don’t have a baby.
I was reading a blog earlier today, and I was in awe of the composure of a woman who’s been on the IF rollercoaster for 7 years. SEVEN YEARS!!! I thought to myself- I can’t IMAGINE going through this for seven years, that poor woman… and yet- I’m nearly half way there myself. And it feels like a sucker-punch to the gut.
It’s probably just hormones I’d guess- As I write this I’m patiently (ok so I’m NOT patient… but I AM waiting) for AF to start so I can get “Clomid- The Sequel” off and running. And I keep having these flashes of hope- I think, ”oh, won’t it be nice to be able to give my husband a positive pee stick for his birthday?!” (beginning of August, and NO I’m not LITERALLY going to give him a pee-stick for his birthday, he likes Ice Cream cake- and Ice Cream cake he shall have!!)… and, “the baby will be due around MY birthday- and isn’t that a sign that this HAS to go well???!!!” and of course, “Doesn’t God™ owe me one by now???!!!” (please don’t have me crucified for this, or strike me down with lightning, amen). So yeah… three years, countless peesticks, a chemical pregnancy and one EPIC fail cervix.
Happy TTCersary to me. And here’s to not having another one next year!!
A letter…
Dear Nipples,
Please fuck off.
Thank you.
Sincerely,
Myself
*editted to add:
Hot flashes- you can go to hell too!!!!
Step One
I did something that gives me mixed emotions today…
I have spent a considerable amount of time trying to figure out exactly how to go about my mission, with not a damn clue how to do it. My mission: to change the policy regarding premature infants in my province.
The current policy is this: if a baby is born under 24 weeks- let it die.
Obviously, this isn’t the exact wording used by hospitals- they spout some crap about the “odds” and the expense blah blah blah blah… In my world- they might as well have just said the former. It’s my opinion, that this is unfair, and that at the very least, I could do something to raise awareness about this. How many parents of premature infants have had to say goodbye to their babies who may have had a full and healthy life? How many parents love their children and don’t give a rat’s ass if their child might have had ”problems” from being born premature?
Why is it that if an older child or adult is given 10% odds of survival- we do everything we can to save them- even if they may experience complications from doing so- but when that person is “just an infant” we do nothing. Why is it ok to let a baby die? I feel that at the very least, it should not be an arbitrary number that decides whether someone lives or dies. And so, I am on a mission to change that policy.
Unfortunately, the only people who seem to know how to go about my business are pro-life associations. I’m HOPING upon hope that the woman I emailed today for information about lobbying for change is not an extremist. (being an infertile undergoing treatment may pose some problems to effective communication if that’s the case). I worry that because I personally, am pro-choice (to a reasonable extent- I don’t believe in abo.r.tion as birth-control, but I DO believe in USING birth control). And this scares me…. it’s so very rare to see a “happy medium” in this issue. If I advocate for premature infants- well, then how can I, in good conscience, still believe in pro-choice? I DO believe in the use of birth control to prevent pregnancy- and in extreme cases, even abo. r. tion. Is this wrong? Can I have it both ways? Can I believe in one and not the other? Is it unethical to enlist the help of an organization whose policies I only partially agree with to assist me with my goal? Do the means justify the ends?
I think yes.
metformin, progesterone and clomid… Oh my!!
What to say…. The last two months have just FLOWN by. It almost seems too soon to be here again, to be feeling hope, to be anxious to feel baby kicks and to puke my guts out.
I’ve been taking metformin for over 2 weeks now in preparation for the REAL heavy hitters… progesterone first to induce a period, then clomid on CD 5-9… then… I wait… I wonder if I’ll get a period at the end of this, or will I need more provera to induce a period? Will I get pregnant right away? My RE is sure he’s got the correct “template” (his words) and I shouldn’t need to see him again unless this doesn’t work. He said, he’s got the right mix, anyone can copy it now… Hopefully they won’t need to…
I honestly can’t say how I’m feeling now, I worry if it’s too soon (although it doesn’t FEEL too soon to me- just OTHER people) I worry about this not working, I worry about getting pregnant as quickly as last time. (I know, beggers and choosers and such, but seriously? over half the birthdays in this family are in March- we do NOT need another March baby in this family!!!) How sad is that? An infertile- worrying about getting pregnant TOO SOON!!! bwahaahahahahaaha…. (feel free to revoke my infertile club membership). I think though, part of me, in that deep, dark pit of hell I have inside me, I’m afraid to get pregnant because I don’t know if I’ll get to keep my baby. I’m not afraid of an early miscarriage- I know I can carry to the second trimester… but I don’t know that my cervix will cooperate. I don’t know if, even with a cerclage, I’ll be able to carry to term. And THAT- that is terrifying. The look in my husband’s eyes when I had to tell him it was over. I had to tell my husband that his first son was not going to live. I joke that I keep his testicles in my purse- soooo not true… this announcement kicked him there hard enough that they’re permanently lodged somewhere in the vicinity of his throat.
And have I mentioned how much I HATE progesterone??? We do NOT get along well. I break out, I get REALLY bitchy… I don’t know if it’s the PCOS that does it, or if I’m just prone to the WORST PMS EVER- but basically, think of it this way- I’ve had maybe 6 or 7 periods in the last three years- and at least two of those were progesterone induced. Now, imagine that your body saves up for the BIG ONE…. take all those missed periods and combine them into one ridiculously ginormous aunt-flo monster… and then- add clomid on top of that like some mutated cherry from HELL!!! It’s SOOOO fun I tells ya!!!
And I totally had more to say… but it’s all just left my brain in the lurch… oh well- never did say I was witty or eloquent did I??
[insert clever title here]
I’m crazier than a shithouse mouse… masochistic and weird…
I touched baby feet….
I touched baby feet inside someone else’s tummy…
I LIKED it!!!
My sister-in-law is due in the next couple of weeks, and she is SURE her daughter has dropped- her doc said no, so I felt her up to check myself… (heh- I used to be a nurse so I DO know what I’m feeling for- and for all you google pervs out there- I only felt her BELLY from the OUTSIDE)…
It was strange how I felt nothing negative. I just thought, oh, wow, that is SOOO cool- I can feel her kicking!! It was amazing! My new little niece, felt me feeling up her mom, and she kicked me! It didn’t make me want to cry, I didn’t feel broken inside, or hurt, or empty, or mad!!! Is this a breakthrough? Am I odd? Crazy? Detached? I don’t think so- I think I’m normal, and feeling what a normal person would feel- complete and utter awe of the miracle inside my sil.
My mother in law is terrified. She worries about the next pregnancy. She worries how another loss would affect us. I had to explain to her, that the greater loss would be to give up now- we have tried for, and wanted a baby together for soooooo long, and while losing Jellybean was the hardest thing that either of us has ever had to go through, I feel that NOT trying again is an even greater loss. I feel that letting fear and negativity take over will only dishonor my son’s memory. He fought as long as he could- shouldn’t I keep fighting? If I were to give up on ever having another child, why not give up on my marriage? Or my daughter? Or life? Just because something doesn’t come easy, doesn’t mean you should ever just give up!!! Or at least that’s always been my belief.
I have bad days and good. I am now having more good days than bad. I am excited for Monday, and the first appt. with the RE after losing my precious Jellybean. I am EXCITED to start trying again. I am hopeful that things will go well this time. I am hopeful that we will get pregnant quickly again, and that everything will work out just fine. I have hope- and that is the greatest feeling of all!!!
