Hope Sinks

For 2 weeks I have slowly fallen into hope.  The lack of aches, twinges, grumpiness, heavy, painful breasts that always rear its head before the big show in addition to  consistent high am temps let hope take over.  I was happy, my husband and I were getting along, laughing together…everything felt different this time.  It worked- I knew it had.  I just kind of,almost knew it. 

Then I tested- my chart said to. BFN. Maybe its too soon.  Lunchtime- BFN.  Called my RE- was told to keep using the progesterone, test again tomorrow.  BFN again…um where is that life preserver?  Dr’s office says stop progesterone…wait…see…call.  By the time I’m home from work, my lower back is twisting and I’m spotting.  wait…see… maybe it will stop.  Next am my temp is still up…hope! …wait..see….but as the day progresses those symptoms that alluded me the week prior come on strong…  Call and make appt to start all over again.  Back at home, I’m in tears…not from grief but pain.  Its overwhelming and a little frightening.  I haven’t hurt like this since the miscarriage 13 months ago- yes the cramps have been bad- ever since the M/C they have been bad- but this was gut wrenching, pillow biting, god I hope the neighbors don’t call 911 painful.  Even a prescription pain pill did not work much.  Sleep was not easy.  Temp upon waking…down..way down…hope sink,sank,sunk. I want to crawl under the covers and not come out- ever. But I can’t afford self pity- I have to go to work..no one will step in for me, I’m new there.  So how does one hold it together an entire day when all one wants to do is scream and hide under the desk? Don’t stop. Keep moving. Don’t think. Keep moving.  Breathe but not too deep. It will be 5 o’clock soon. 

And 5pm came and went. Now its 11pm. No tears no meltdown.  I pushed it aside- away- so I could get thru the day and now its out of reach… sink, sank, SUNK

 

What is a Liebster?

It’s an award given to new/up and coming bloggers..my friend, Unconceivably Blessed,(at blogspot) was nominated today!  YAY!!  She’s awesome. She is blatantly honest, full of love and hope and if you’re on this IF journey, you’ve met a kindred spirit! 

It seems being nominated, comes with rules:

1) Each blogger nominated must post 11 things about
themselves.
2) Then answer the 11 questions the tagger has
asked.
3) Blogger must then create 11 questions of their own
to ask the bloggers they decide to nominate.
4) They must choose 11 bloggers with less than 200
followers to nominate and link them on their blog post

5) Bloggers must be notified of their award!
6) No tag backs
and…she linked me!!!  Awww….  I only do this to vent (my husband can only take so much 🙂 )  But I’m game, so here goes. 

11 things about me:

 1.  I’m a probation officer…and I hate my job!

  2. I’ve known my husband over 20 years- we’ve been together for 3, married for a little over 1 year

  3.  I love animals- probably more than most people

  4.  I’m discovering that eating healthy doesn’t taste as bad as I thought

 
5. I’m a huge snoop

6. I’m adopted- my mother was told after her first child, she wouldn’t have any more so they “got me” ..6 mos later she was pregnant with my younger brother

7. I have never truly felt like I fit in

8. I am not a fan of sports- but I do like to watch ice skating and gymnastics

9. I LOVE theater

10. I love books!! Trying to adjust to my Nook..

11. I think music is a life requirement

Unconceivably Blessed’s questions:
What is your favorite color? I love
to wear red…I LOVE all things pink..and I find blue calming
What first attracted you to your significant other? He accepted me for me-flaws and all
Mountains or beach? Beach- of the laid back, non touristy kind
What is your comfort food? Chocolate
Who do you depend on the most? my husband
What is your favorite season of the year? Fall
What is your favorite vacation spot? Relaxed beachy spot
Do you have any hobbies? Reading, pinterest, napping
Who is your favorite celebrity? There are many I admire..I love Gwyneth Paltrow
Droid,iPhone or neither? Droid
What is your favorite restaurant? The Melting Pot

Questions for my nominees:
What is your favorite movie?
Who is your favorite band/artist?
Iced or hot tea?
City or country?
Where do you want to visit?(somewhere you’ve never been)
Sleep in or go to bed early?
DVD or Blu-ray?
Cake or Pie?
What is your happiest memory?
Did you have braces?
What is your favorite book?

And my nominees are…drumroll please…

The Stork Diaries, Waiting to Expand, Submerged, Ill Not Crazy, Just Another Infertility Blog and Just Stop Trying and It Will Happen





Yes, I know thats only 6…there are others I love (I Want A Dumpster Baby) but she has like a zillion followers, therefore not an option!

Okay- it’s your turn!

scared to hope

Today has been…I can’t say it…it’s scary to say the g word because that leads to hope which has inevitably lead to heartache. But still…that spark was ignited this morning in a fuzzy black and white image on a computer screen and a genuine smile on my Dr’s face. “Well look at that…” He counted…and the count was higher than any other time- than I ever dreamed would happen- and he was smiling..which made me cry..happy tears while this smile creeped across my face. I can’t remember the last true smile I had.

My heart wants to sing from rooftops..its a small triumph..not the big prize..but a triumph none the less and I want someone to be happy with me. I will tell my husband after the IUI..he will be happy but if I tell him now I’m afraid he will feel more pressure than usual, knowing the odds are better this time. And pressure is not helpful for his task at hand. (unintended pun)

My head is telling me not to hope, not to share because hope, for me, nosedives on CD28. And after seeing my Dr smile that big and feeling it spread across my face, knowing there are that many chances, for not one to come to fruition will slay me.

I am scared to hope….

just an angry rant

I stopped posting what I am grateful for everyday last week.  I don’t feel grateful…about anything.  I am full of anger,hurt and tears.  I hate everything and I radiate anger.  I am angry ay my husband all the time..is it his fault I’m not pregnant? No.  I don’t blame him.  I’m the one with faulty equipment.  I get that.  But hes here, in the way, trying to make me feel better and I can’t.  Theres no trying this cycle because the “important” day is on Christmas and my RE’s office is closedclosedclosed.  No point in flushing that $$$ down the drain… money his mom wont help with but has no qualms about asking every few days “do you know anything yet?”  BACK OFF BITCH- I so want to scream.  He won’t tell her to stop, that when/if and when we’re comfortable, we will share.  He thinks it is rude.  Rude?  I’ll show him rude.  After screaming forever, he finally called her and told her her constant questions were causing alot of stress and when we had something new to tell, we would.  There- was that so hard?  It is so frustrating that it feels like the only way he seems to take me seriously is when I SCREAM.  That makes me ANGRY

It is exhausting getting up every day, going to work and pretending I’m ok, that nothing is wrong.  Having to deal with these asshats who see nothing wrong with breaking the law, who live off honest peoples taxes and have babies to make money..and continue to use drugs while pregnant- ANGRY

My family has shut the door on me. Ten months ago my brother called me a passive agressive manipulative bitch and hung up on me.  No clue why- he would not and has not told me why.  My sister in law finally told my husband that it was because I had been angry at her after MY miscarriage. Which I was- she barely acknowledged what had happened..I was beyond hurt at the time. Its been discussed, its in the past and he remains mad. His son, my nephew, no longer returns my calls, texts,emails and I can only assume it is related. Neither of my brothers has ever asked if I was ok or expressed sympathy (the m/c was in Nov and he didnt stop talking to me until March)- so theres more ANGER
It consumes me. I can’t escape it. Anger is everywhere, in, on and around me.

My digital woobie

Temping is what I live by now.  It is the first thing I do when I wake up and it decides how my day will go.  If its up, I’m up..if it stays up, I remain hopeful.  The thermometer is my BFF! On those days, I hold it up high and sing its praises.  When it goes down, I spiral down with it.  I try  bargaining with it- I promise to keep you safer, so the cats won’t find you.  Give you a softer pillow to hide under.  Just please go back up. Please!!!

Do I really think this piece of digital plastic has magical powers? No.  Logically I know it is plastic and can’t change my future.  But it gives me hope…until that fateful morning when it takes it away.  And for the past 8 mos it has taken it away me.  I’m hoping this month is different.  Waiting sucks.  But right now I have my BFF, its my ‘woobie’.  I rely on it.  Want my thermometer?  You’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands!!

A year later

I have tried to stay busy today- it has worked so far.  There have been no tears, no moments of complete despair. It has not been a  pull the blankets over my head and wish the world away day  I’m sure it will happen- but it can’t tomorrow. Tomorrow I start in a new office- same job- just a new place, closer to home.  It will save us (hopefully) a lot of money in gas.  Money we will (hopefully not) need to pay for fertility treatments.

A year ago tomorrow I lost one of few things I always wanted, the one thing I never doubted I would be- until a year ago.  We had only known maybe 5 days when I was awakened by horrible cramps- I could barely walk.  I didn’t know what to do, who to call.  I did not want to panic- thinking that would make it worse.  I woke my husband up and called my (then) drs office- they were not helpful “Lie down, take some tylenol, use a heating pad…call tomorrow if you are still bleeding”  Really?  I know its a Sunday but REALLY?  Eventually we went to Medac where the most wonderful, kind doctor took care of me and my husband.  He did not fix anything but he was kind and listened and treated us like people not a number to cash out. Monday afternoon (bc that was the ONLY time they could fit me in) we went to my drs office.  They did not call me back until Tuesday afternoon to confirm my fear- I had miscarried our dream.  My boss made me go home and told me to stay home as long as I needed.  It never occured to me that this might happen.  I have a crazy imagination and always jump to the worst possible outcome and this still did not occur to me.

So its a year later and there is no baby.  I am still standing- most days.  I have made a few new friends online who understand all the issues and emotions I am going thru because they are going thru it too.  Thank God for them.

Also thank God for my husband.  He doesn’t always understand the depth of my pain but he goes with me to my appointments, listens to the drs (because honestly sometimes my brain is too fried to comprehend) and holds me till I stop crying. He has taken the brunt of my anger and stayed strong because he knows that I am not angry at him- he knows that I am so sad, so heartbroken. This event has changed some relationships in my life but he holds me up and gets me thru it. He has been a rock- a stubborn, hard headed rock but my rock.  He is my family.  I chose him and he has stood by me thru this.  He has never made me feel less than or blamed me.  I have enough blame for myself. I hate myself for not being able to give him a child- he would be a GREAT dad and I feel I killed that dream for him..and myself. Now he has assumed the responsibility of giving me my shots for this new round of treatment.  It is a step or two beyond Clomid but not as invasive as IVF- it is all we can afford.  I don’t know what we will do next but it will be together.

Statistics suck

I’m a statistic. I’m a statistic?! I’ve become a statistic- after 12 months I am a statistic. Hold up, WHAT? This was not in my life plan.  I was that little girl who loved her doll babies, loved being the mommy, knowing someday I would have a real baby of my own.  I was the little girl who, before learning about the birds and bees, thought God decided when it was your turn.  Every night in my prayers I would ask God to please let me finish high school before blessing me with my turn.  It never occured to me that I would be a part of that 10-15%.  Its not a club I knew existed- I don’t want to be a member.  If I cause enough trouble, will I get kicked out? PLLUULEAZE!  Please kick me out- I HATE YOU!  YOU SUCK!!  I do NOT belong here!!!  I belong along over there- with that large group of happy people- yeah, them- all those families- thats my scene.  My dream.  Growing up, growing old without kids is not for me…so why am I here?  Being a mom was my purpose- is my purpose.  The dream has gotten me thru many things..some day this silly/stupid/bad event won’t matter because I’ll be a mom. My parents memory would live on because I would be able to tell my child all about them, tell my child the same bedtime stories my dad told me, sing my child lullabys like my mom sang to me.  I would take my child to the theater and pass along the love of watching a story come to life in front of you.  God I LOVE the theater- I love Julie Andrews…I want to share that with my child.  I want to know that bond between a mother and child.  I’ve never known it.  I want to look into the face of my child and cry the happiest tears ever known. So, please kick me out- this club is not for me.

F**K YOU infertility!

Sarcasm and Smiles

Words are like swords
Especially when they attack from so close
Always waiting for an attack from beyond enemy lines,
you rarely expect the familiar dagger
It slices sweet and leaves deep wounds
If history was a lesson I learned well,
I’d have made my walls of iron and stone
Instead I have always lowered the gate, flown the white flag
I cover my scars with sarcasm and smiles
What covers yours, dear brother?

you or me

I don’t know what, if anything, is wrong with me but we are pretty sure the problem is not my husbands.   After 5 mos of accupuncture, vitamins, walking, charting, ovulation tests etc still no luck.  We can’t afford for my husband to be tested- thanks to his ex-wife’s fake pregnancy and subsuquent miscarriage- so I bought an at home fertility test.  I thought it would give me peace of mind, help us move forward and know what direction to go in.  Then, while waiting on the results, it struck me… its me or him…one of us ‘isn’t working’ right.  What outcome do I want? Me?  Him? Both options suck. If its him, will I blame him? Will I be angry?  I don’t want to, I know its not his fault. If its him, do I celebrate bc its not me? If its me….well it’s me.  Test says hes got plenty of swimmers.  I should be happy. Right? Another thing checked off the list.  It just sent me spiraling back down the rabbit hole (which I teeter on the edge of on a daily basis). The pinball wizard of Losertown has been resurrected in my head…. please give me strength to get thru this joyride of selfhate

Welcome Wagon

For the past few months, I have rolled out the welcome mat, so to speak, for my hopeful new guest.  Anything to make the best possible warm, cozy home so they will take roost and stay awhile.  At the appropriate, calculated time the welcome wagon arrives with its troops to await  Guest’s arrival with open arms.  I even try to send reinforcements, just so my Guest will know how much they are wanted.  Yet every month to my extreme devastation,  Guest does not stay. I have to go to the stables and saddle up the ponies for their rude departure.  And this impolite Guest never leaves quietly. Oh no!  They stomp all over me, causing reverberating waves of physical pain. What is so vile about the room I have that causes the Guest to snub their nose at me? I am not a horrible host.  I would care for this Guest like no other. Whatever their hearts desired, it would be provided with the utmost of love.  That unconditional, undying kind of love.  Its waiting…all the Guest has to do is stay…and grow and experience this love.

But today it did not. Today I grieve. I grieve a little more each time my invitation is rebuffed because I fear with each passing month, the guest will never want to stay. It will pass, hopefully,  and I will begin to prepare again. I must be positive, good things occurs in the positive light. But not today- today I grieve.