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We are expecting: a nervous breakdown

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Anyway, the longer we are ttc, the more freaked out I get. Think about it. The first pregnancy you are happy and excited and minimally concerned for miscarriage. It won’t happen to you. Nope. You and your baby are invincible. … Continue reading

Give me the chocolate and I will only slightly harm you.

A normal woman has her monthly “visit” every 28-30 days, give or take a few days.  I don’t unless it’s medically induced. That’s the wonderful part of having PCOS (please read that as sarcastically as you choose.)  I don’t remember exactly how old I was when I “started” but I think I was 11 or 12.  From the jump it was never normal.  I never knew when it was coming.  I lived in fear from the time I was 8 years old when my mother explained what she used those sticky pieces of paper for.  I would go to the bathroom in 2nd grade and check every day because I was petrified I would have blood coming from an unholy place and then I would have a baby.  I don’t know how I missed that middle step of what makes a baby.  I think my mom left that part out.  I do, however, remember being at my grandma’s house one hot summer day getting ready to go to my father’s house in a cute little outfit of white shorts and a tank top.  I got out of the lake after swimming and when I went to change I saw red…literally.  I figured then life was over.

Here I am, 16 years later…it pains me to say that by the way…wishing I had a normal, reliable, regular cycle.  It may make this baby thing a bit easier.  The thought never entered my mind that being so screwed up in the reproductive area would result in difficulty conceiving a baby.  Since we began our journey of trying to get pregnant, my doctors have tried everything from Clomid and Provera to what we are doing now which is just Letrozole (Femara) every month and then my cycle restarts like clock work if I am not pregnant.  It is not, however, the same every month.  I don’t know how many women are going through what I am going to explain but if there is just 1 person out there then I know I am not just nuts.
(This is where, if you are my brother, you stop reading unless you already have and then if your wife is reading this you should gross him out with all of the gross details because I like to watch him squirm.)

Ever since losing the baby in June I have had ridiculously odd flows.  I went from having a d&c to not bleeding much afterwards which the doctor told me was weird.  He put me on birth control to keep my cycles coming in normal fashion.  Once that started I again had really light periods.  Then 2 months later I believe, it was like Hiroshima hit my pants.  I woke up one morning covered in blood.  I honestly thought I was hemorrhaging.  That was when the life altering, doubling over in pain cramps started.  I figured maybe I would have one bad one then I would be ok.  Boy was I wrong!  They seem to go in their own little circle of hell.  I have a really light one then a horrible one then a “normal” one.  Life still revolves around my uterus even when I am not trying to fill it with life.  I carry ample protection.  When I cleaned out my purse today I counted 6 pads and 3 tampons.  That’s not normal either but I really don’t know what to expect from one moment to another.

This month when I found out I wasn’t pregnant but my uterine lining was really thick according to the ultrasound, I figured it would be ugly.  Like the nastiest fight scene in 300 and it would last for what seemed like an eternity and I would be a millionaire after my husband bought stock in Kotex.  Again I was wrong.  I have no clue what is going on in there but I will tell you that it is complete and utter BS.  My uterus is a bitch.  Not only do I feel like I didn’t get a good flush and fill but I feel like I got screwed for December.  I am concerned that because it’s not all out of there I will have no luck trying this month and I will have the worst cycle on Christmas.  Merry freakin’ Christmas baby, you aren’t gettin’ any.
I have talked about this with my fertility doctor.  He has a penis.  He only looks at vagina.  He thinks I am insane.  I think he is an ass…sometimes.  I think it may be time to revisit the subject with him but it concerns me that he will want to do another biopsy on my uterus.  If you have had one of those done, you know why I have a severe panic attack at even the mere thought of that procedure.  It feels like a red-hot poker stabbing you in your most precious of areas and then radiating pain all the way into your chest cavity.  This all happens in about 4 seconds but it’s enough to make you want to kick the doctor in the face while simultaneously vomiting on the person holding your hand.
So, we are back to square one.  We decided to go ahead with trying again this month with just the pills again.  January 1st our medical stuff restarts and we will be able to actually “afford” treatments…the ones that will probably land me in jail because I will become a raging lunatic on hormone shots every day for a month.

Anyway, that is my rant about my monthly.  As every other woman in the world does, I hate it.  I wish I could pull a Michelle Duggar and just keep on poppin’ out the babies and get TLC to follow me with a camera to show how amazing I am at being a mother to my 19 kids and counting…but I got screwed by genetics or probably by my fat.  Today I blame my fat.  I leave you with this amazing image.  It describes exactly what my house is like for approximately 3-7 days a month every month until I get so lucky as to get pregnant and STAY pregnant.  And then I will just keep on making that happen because I would rather push a watermelon through a tiny hole than bleed every month.  It’s late, I’m rambling, Good night.

Hcg bakeries?

When I stopped by Candi’s office on Wednesday to take her a Chalupa (because I’m a good friend like that), we were discussing how I am not sure if I can afford to do fertility treatments next month because finances are super tight right now.  The extent of what I would do is take my Letrozole and get an hcg shot and Jeremy and I would bbd as often as possible.  There are many factors of why I didn’t want to actively try in December…1st is that I was due in December and my heart feels like it’s about to explode.  Every pregnant woman I see, talk to, or hear about makes me sad.  So sad I can’t even talk to people I am super close to because I get so upset I start crying at the thought of them….like I am doing right now at my desk in my pjs.  2nd issue is that the way my cycle falls, I will have my test to find out if I would be pregnant or not just a couple of days before Christmas.  It ruined Thanksgiving for me so why not ruin Christmas right?  3rd issue is that it’s freaking expensive!  This would be the cheapest we could get away with having to pay but it’s still close to a couple hundred bucks after meds, copays, shots, and other drugs.  As we all know, coming up with extra money at the end of the year with the holidays is always difficult.

Whoa, way off topic….
Anyway, we discussed what the course of treatment would be and I told Candi that the main thing I would have to get was an hcg shot to make those fat juicy follicles release beautiful eggs to make my fat beautiful babies.  I explained to her that we would have to find some pregnant chicks (not hard right this second) that would pee in cups so we could make the hcg shots.  Apparently, it is not common knowledge that the hcg shots that we get have hcg that is extracted from pregnant women’s urine.  This is no joke.  I wiki’d it…hahaha.  So, with this new fact, Candi has chosen our new business venture which I think is foul and disgusting but if it worked….I might try it.

Hcg Bakery.  We take the hormone and bake it into brownies and cookies and cheesecake.  Then you become super fertile.  I haven’t done much research on the hcg holding up in an oven or in a mixing bowl but we may figure it out.  I did see that the FDA said the “hcg diets” were fraudulent so maybe they know something we don’t and in fact hcg goes GREAT with brownies.  We also have an idea for a baby farm-more on that later-but that would aid in our collection of hcg.  It’s a win win!  I did tell Candi that I will refuse any baked good she offers me from now on.  We know enough pregnant people, I wouldn’t put it past her to try to get some hcg from them for me…
This also has me considering a line of liquor.  The “hcg shots”…hahaha GENIUS!  Patent pending! 🙂  In all of 5 seconds I just created the advertisements and my target demographics.  I really should have gotten a college degree and done something with all of my genius ideas.

All right.  That’s enough for the day I think.  Consider yourself lucky that your best friend isn’t trying to feed you pregnant woman pee laced baked goods.  However, be jealous that my best friend would take a pregnant woman’s pee and lace baked goods with it so I can have a baby and not be such a psychopath.

Holidays and the blues

I am a pessimist.  Always have been, always will be.  I think this is part of the reason why I despise the holidays.  My husband, poor Jeremy, gets the brunt of this.  Trying to get pregnant takes a toll on everyone in the family when emotions cloud joy and happiness.  I used to love the holidays.  I probably would already have the house decorated, complete with tree and outside lights.  Usually I have the holiday dinners at my house every year but this year is different.
When we found out I was pregnant in April, one of the very first things I said was “HEY! This baby will be here right around Christmas!!” and my husbands quick response was “And you will not be 9 months pregnant entertaining the entire family in our house!”  That was perfectly fine with me.  Not knowing if I would be in the hospital having a baby or so tired that I couldn’t cook the normal feast for 15 people made the proclamation from Jeremy completely acceptable.  When we lost the baby in June I realized that this plan was probably still the best idea.  I knew the holidays would be difficult…way more difficult than usual.  I always get incredibly stressed out starting right about now and the stress doesn’t end until the end of the last night of Christmas celebrations.  As I worked through my grief in the past few months I thought it wouldn’t be so bad.  I tried to tell myself I could get through it with the support from my husband.  He said our house would be our “safe haven” when I start feeling overwhelmed we could come home to our quiet house with our fur-babies and relax.  Now, 2 days before Thanksgiving, I don’t want to leave my house.  I wake up in the morning with this overwhelming feeling of despair but I pick myself up, go to work, and try to make the best of this life I am living.
To make things worse, my appointment with my RE is scheduled for tomorrow.  I told the receptionist that this was a cruel joke to give me shit news right before a day of thanks.  She reminded me that it’s not always negative news she gives me and to try to be positive.  As I said earlier this month, I was trying not to think about it.  I tried not to care.  That didn’t work so well for me this month.  Every day, at one moment or another, I would think about the test.  I would think about the fact that I would probably be pissed off tomorrow afternoon.  So, I created projects for myself to keep me busy as best I could.  I stayed in a good mood.  I kept my bitching to a minimum.  I tried not to think about the possible cramps or the other feelings you get when you are about to get your monthly curse.
Today was a great day at work.  I laughed, got a big part of a project done, got a hug from a very unexpected person who has WAY more crap going on in her life right now than I do (not to mention she’s a mean ass old lady), and I looked forward to coming home to my husband who is on vacation.  When I got home, I started getting upset.  I started losing my temper.  I caught myself becoming a witch.  I know the signs of PMS.  I know how I get and how my body gets when it gets near to that time of the month.  Right now, I am fighting it.  I don’t know if you can fight a menstrual cycle but dammit I am trying.

I promise my mom I would cook the turkey, ham, mashed potatoes and bake 3 pies.  I feel like a dumbass for agreeing to it because I really don’t want to do any of it.  So that’s where I sit.  At this exact moment I hate my body, my ovaries, my uterus, the holidays, and pretty much anything else that is going on at the moment.  I know we are trying to keep this light and humorous but sometimes that is just physically impossible.  I wanted to let you readers know that you don’t have to be ok all of the time.  If you feel like throwing a freshly roasted turkey at a wall, it’s normal. I considered asking my husband if we could go out into the country with a bag of potatoes and have target practice.  The holidays are difficult for a lot of people and I want you to know that I am right there with you.  There is no shame in grieving even if the grief is from a day ago or 35 years ago.

The cliché thing to say is “be thankful for what you have.”  Yeah. Do that but take care of yourself as well.  Try not to worry about what others are thinking of you when you avoid a family function because seeing someone may make it that much more difficult for you not to start the family brawl before the gravy hits the table.
Try to relax (hahahaha yeah…I know) and make your holidays the best you can for you.  I will probably just eat all of the food and stuff myself until I pass out and don’t wake up until Monday morning.
Much love and hugs.

Being thankful doesn’t mean I’m happy

But I am. Currently. So, before my body goes and confirms that I am in fact not pregnant this month and throws me into a temporary depression, I want to take a minute (or a few) to express how much I have to be grateful for. I will continue to be thankful, even through any sadness I may yet encounter. First know in life, I have been dealt a raw deal, many times. I was in an abusive marriage. I am clinically depressed. I struggled with self-injury. I have a laundry list of health issues. I was left by my fiancée months before our wedding, without warning. I have lost two babies and am waiting impatiently for my third pregnancy. I pray to God it ends with a healthy baby in my arms. You know what? Actually looking back at this hand in life that I feel I have unfortunately been dealt, it doesn’t seem so bad at all. I have a wealth of blessings that far out weigh the badness that has happened.

I believe that everything happens for a reason. I believe in God and that all things happen for good for those who believe in him. Not one of the issues I have listed above do I regret. Not one of those things can I not find the silver lining.

I was in an abusive marriage: because of this I joined the military. The military has given me adventure, friendship, education, health benefits, and life experience.

I am clinically depressed: I suffered a long time in silence before I was diagnosed and treated. This goes along with the self-injury issue. I have spent many hours in utter heartbreak and emotional struggles before I was prescribed meds and a therapist. I take away a sense of empathy. I feel that I have been given a better understanding of peoples emotions. I am willing to put my story out there in an attempt to let others know they are not alone. If my pain helps even one person,  I think it’s worth it.

My health issues: they range from hip problems to allergies to migraines to sleep issues to asthma etc. This one is a little harder to find the silver lining, but it could be worse.  I have all of my own parts and pieces. I am able to walk, see, touch, and take care of myself. I am able to experience life.

My fiancée left me: but I ended up with a man that couldn’t have been more perfect for me had I created him myself. Chris has been my rock. My source of laughter and joy. My cheerleader. My lover. My best friend.

I have lost two babies: without my love and eventually grief that came from Jordan and Mason, Lotus Be Infertility and Miscarriage Awareness Foundation would have never came about. Yes, it did also involve the loss of Kristen’s son at the same time. I feel if it had only been one of us- we wouldn’t have this same drive and passion for spreading the word on infertility and miscarriage and giving women hope and a place to share their stories.

There is a silver lining in all the bad I have experienced, but I said there is even more that I am grateful for. I have a full time job. I have a roof over my head. My bills are paid. I have a supportive and loving family and friends. I am co-owner of a wonderful company. I have gotten to travel. I have Chris’s two daughters that I love as if they were my own. I am alive. I am well. I have so many things that others would die to have. I have freedom of speech and religion. I have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I do not want for anything, except a child. I may not have it all, but I have so much. I am blessed; I am thankful, and at this moment, before my body betrays me again, I am happy.

Making peope uncomfortable since 1984

Candi and I are sitting at the flea market trying to raise some money for our company and the fertility grant we plan on giving out in the 1st quarter of 2013.  The day started trying to find out how many people we could make uncomfortable by just sitting here.  We have a table set up with all of our jewelry and our raffle ticket info and the prizes behind it.  We are pretty impressed with ourselves.  People started coming in and they take a quick glance at our sign and immediately look away.  There are also the teenagers that walk in, ignore us in general and are dumb.  No one, aside from Candi’s mom, her cousin, and the owner of the shop has given us more than a second look.  There are a few people that have lingered and looked but not much else.  I have enjoyed it because it’s been nice hanging out with Candi and we have been on pinterest all day.  What we have sold has been great because it is a fundraiser for my friend Trisha that is going through infertility issues as well.  I am actually super excited that we have been able to sell somethings for her.

Anyway, we have noticed that any site of our sign immediatly stirs a fear in people.  Lotus Be Infertility and Miscarriage Awareness Foundation.  BAM! Right in your face.  I would venture to say there were 25-30 people in and out of that place (this is in a VERY small town outside of another small town).  Of those 30 people, aside from Candi’s mom, 2 people physically stopped and investigated our table.  1 woman with a little girl who was looking at our letters for our jewelry.  The mom had a conversation with us, albeit short, but spoke with us about the company.  The 2nd person was a man who stood back and just looked.  I was happy 2 people looked and didn’t avert their glances after immediately seeing what we were there for.  There were people that walked into the building that I had seen around town.  I knew who they were and yet no one said anything.  This is why we started our company.  We need to raise awareness and help these 2 incredibly difficult topics become something more than shocking or uncomfortable.

Tomorrow I plan to push.  I plan to make more attempts at chatting folks up.  I played it safe today and kept my mouth shut because I didn’t know what to expect and we were eating pumpkin pie.  Tomorrow that pie will not interfere with my need to make people uncomfortable.  I have a lot of plans to continue making people uncomfortable since that seems to be the only way to make them pay attention.  People I work with now know that most of the time I will talk about my uterus or our son that we lost.  Sometimes I can see them being uncomfortable but it lasts a second when they realize they aren’t getting out of the conversation.  I have learned more about people this way in the past few months than I would have ever learned about them if I didn’t push the boundaries.

Push boundaries with me.  When someone tells you something that is rude or something that is meant to help, tell them why you feel it was rude or not the correct thing to say.  I don’t mean everything has to be politically correct….believe me…it doesn’t.  Candi and I told her cousin today that because she has 6 kids, she is a whore.  Very inappropriate but hey, it’s called humor.  I had no problem telling a woman the facts when she told me I wasn’t a real mother because I didn’t have my baby and that he wasn’t alive.  I have no problem reminding people who complain about their kid screaming in the middle of the night that I would give my life for a child to scream for me in the middle of the night.  I do refrain from telling them that if they say that one more time I will knock their teeth out.
So there you have it.  Our first foray into the public and we are doing exactly how I thought we would.  Just perfect.

UTERI Unite!
Yes, I googled that and uteri is the actual plural for uterus…don’t start with me Candi. 🙂

A slightly blurry photo of Kristen and Candi at the Burbank Indoor Flea Market

Feeling slighted by an ovum, blighted

I have been very emotional lately, with the holidays coming up. That’s no surprise. What is surprising, that in my feels-like-it’s-all-happening-all-over-again sadness, I feel compelled to go into detail about the loss of Mason. This is not a post that I want to write, but feel I should, for the sake of others in similar situations. It’s raw, hurtful, sad, and depressing. Pregnancies vary from person to person, pregnancy to pregnancy. So do miscarriages. No two will be exactly alike. When I lost Jordan, I was about 6 weeks along. My hCG levels were decent. I didn’t have too many symptoms except that I was crazy, super emotional. I hadn’t even made it to my first OB appointment. I went to school one day, and there was blood. Lots of it. I drove myself to the hospital, trying to stay calm. I didn’t tell anyone except my professors that I had that day. My family didn’t even know I was pregnant at this point. By the time I had gotten to the hospital, all hope was lost. As I was checking in, I was hit with a double whammy. The women checking in before me was pregnant with twins and she had a cold… I wanted to punch her in the face. I’m here at the ER because I’m losing my baby and your here because you have a freaking cold?!

The doctor ran labs and did an ultrasound.  There was no tissue left.  Since this was my first u/s and the tissue was gone already, I never got to see my baby. It was probably around 10:00 am, when I let anyone know where I was. I was supposed to work  at 11:00. I texted my mom and told her I was in the hospital having a miscarriage and I thought that I’d be late for work. She works for me in the mornings, while I’m in school. As I’m laying there alone in the ER, I am freaking out. This can’t be happening. I’ve wanted to be a mother for so long and now I’m losing my baby. Momma drove to the hospital and sat with me for a while. I did leave the hospital and go to work, but I was late. I needed something to do to pretend this didn’t actually happen. It didn’t take long for my hCG levels to be back to normal, but emotionally, I was a mess. I don’t know the gender of this baby, but mother’s intuition tells me it’s a girl. We’ll call her a her. Her name is Jordan Eryn. *Jordan, if you’re a boy, I apologize for the semi girly spelling of your middle name. Your aunt and godmomma, Liz and I decided on the Irish version. She helped me name you.

Now it’s Mason’s turn. I wasn’t too worried about having a miscarriage with this last pregnancy for a few reasons. 1) I had already had one. I couldn’t be cursed twice in a row, right? 2) My hCG levels were super high and constantly rising. 3) I was horribly nauseous to the point of throwing up on myself, in the car, while eating an apple. Since we weren’t telling anyone yet that I was pregnant, we said I had a little bug. Hence, Mason’s nickname Bug. 🙂

So my pregnancy is moving along great if you consider morning/noon/night sickness, horrible nausea, lack of appetite except for healthy snacks, tiredness, emotional, and sore boobs great. Weirdly, I did. I thanked God for all of these symptoms because my baby was going to be okay! My first ultrasound with him was around 6 weeks. At my OB’s office they have big TVs on the wall so that you can see everything that’s going on. I saw a sac, but no baby. My heart sank. The doctor tried to tell me maybe I had my dates mixed up and I wasn’t as far along as I thought. I knew exactly how far I was to the day, since we had been ttc for 3 months. I wasn’t mistaken. She didn’t say anything, but scheduled me for follow up blood work and another U/S in a few days. My hormone levels were still rising at this point, I was still sick, and there was still no baby on the giant TV.

At this point she informs me she thinks I have a blighted ovum, or anembryonic pregnancy. I didn’t exactly know what this was, but I knew my heart was broken. I went home, read everything I could get my hands on, and prayed like I’ve never prayed before. I held out hope knowing that some women can’t see their babies until 10+ weeks on the u/s, due to the babies location. Once to twice a week I was having my blood levels checked and ultrasounds done, but the results were the same. Blighted ovum. No baby. No sign of impending miscarriage so the doctor scheduled me for a D&C (dilation and curettage). When I left the hospital after surgery, there was a mother leaving with her baby and a mother coming in to have a baby… What timing I have… It took about 6 weeks for my hCG levels to finally drop below 2.

According to the American Pregnancy Association, “A blighted ovum (also known as “anembryonic pregnancy”) happens  when a fertilized egg attaches itself to the uterine wall, but the embryo does not develop. Cells develop to form the pregnancy sac, but not the embryo itself.”

Here is why I didn’t want to write this post. I’m pretty sure at least one of you will be thinking that since I didn’t have an embryo, I wasn’t really pregnant. This bothered me so badly in the beginning and even now writing this post because I struggled with the question if I was actually considered pregnant myself. Does this count as a baby or what the heck is going on with my body? I don’t understand. I don’t know how I can have all of these symptoms and there not be a child. I believe that life begins at conception. There was a fertilized egg. It was multiplying and growing. I had a pregnancy sac and a placenta. The genetics testing came back the sex was male. How can it be a male, if it is not a life? He is my son and his name is Mason. I’ll fight to the death if you’d like to tell me otherwise.

This makes 2 pregnancies and I have yet to see a baby. This makes 2 pregnancies and I have yet to hear a heartbeat. This makes 2 pregnancies and I am absolutely terrified of the next one. Right now, at this moment, I want to cry. My heart hurts wondering if you think of Mason as a blip. As an accident. As not a baby. He is my baby and the pain of missing him and Jordan haunt me daily. Please, if you have ever had experienced a blighted ovum miscarriage, know that you were pregnant. You are a mother. You created life. You are not alone.

“Blighted Ovum.” American Pregnancy Association,  2011. Web. Web. 16 Nov. 2012.

Unexpected (and unwelcome) emotions

I know Kristen already posted today, but I had an unexpected breakdown yesterday I want to share with you. So if you haven’t yet, check out her blog from earlier, so that you don’t accidentally skip over it. 🙂

Yesterday, I had a migraine all day, which is one of many health problems my body and my mother have blessed me with. (Thanks Mom!) My loving Christopher thought he would try and ease my pain by trying to “impregnate me.”His words, not mine. (It’s been 4 months ttc since we lost Mason.) That works for headaches, but not so much for migraines. Too much head flopping and brain shaking… However, I love the fact that he knows what will make me feel better. Babies. Babies make me feel better. My babies, not other people’s babies that is. He even suggested we can have twins and quadruplets! The idea of twins freak him out and quadruplets freak me out. We’d both be running for the hills at that point. Ok, not really since I’ve always wanted 4 babies, but since he has 2 of his own (8 year old Emily and 9 year old Brooke,) he told me our limit is 2. What would probably happen if by some miracle I get pregnant with quads is that I would keep 2 and give 2 to Kristen… Happy birthday, friend!

If you have ever experienced a loss, you probably know that you have good days and bad days. After your initial phase of grief wears off, you’re probably pretty good at knowing your triggers and what things/people/dates/events to avoid to keep your sanity. As previously mentioned, my triggers are new babies, pregnant women, pregnant women at weddings, pregnant women at family functions, pregnancy related posts, pregnancy announcements, ultrasounds, etc… Side note: I had an unexpected pregnancy announcement yesterday and I remained calm, gave my congratulations, and did not cry. Round of applause for me. You do what you can to keep yourself in check, but sometimes there are those things that just pop up out of nowhere and your suddenly a blubbering mess.

Side note/Background information: (Side note on the side note: Yes, I am aware that I have multiple side notes. I’m slightly ADD and I’m giving you the information in the order my brain gives it to me. Welcome to my world.) Chris loves football. He loves his Cleveland Browns and I love being able to share that with him. When I found out I was pregnant, I told Chris by wrapping up Cleveland Browns pacifiers in a gift bag. Soon after we found out Mason’s due date, who at the time was called Bug, was January 26. This was my grandpa’s birthday, so it must be a special day. My birthday is February 3, just a week after, so I’d be getting the best gift EVAR!!! Guess what else is February 3 of next year? The Super Bowl. Chris loves football, Chris loves babies, genius idea– I’ll buy Mason his first Super Bowl outfit to wear! Are you seeing the football theme? Boy or girl, it didn’t matter, my baby was going to be dressed in football clothes for it’s first Super Bowl party. I was so excited!

Ok, so unexpected and unwelcome emotions. Fast forward a bit in time from the pregnancy/loss in June, back to last night. I still have a migraine, and I’m trying to sleep. We’re talking about moving and Chris mentions that if all goes well, maybe we could have a Super Bowl party in the new house! My reaction- “That would be so much…. that wouldn’t be so fun.” If there was a way to shrink those last words, I would have done it. I trailed off at this point* As I was saying how much fun I thought that would be, my brain reminded me that I won’t have Mason there with us. I burst into tears. Chris was so supportive about it, which I love about him. He lets me cry and holds me tight. He is absolutely amazing. The Super Bowl is my new, unexpected trigger. Who woulda thunk it? This may be the only time I am glad the Browns have no chance at all, but there’s always next year…

Hormones and the 2 week wait

My doctor told me once that my hormones were out of whack.  I knew this before I spent $30k on fertility treatments but I’m glad he noticed.  Since we lost the baby in June of this year, we were unable to “try” again to get pregnant until my hcg levels reached 0.  It took almost 3 months.  In that time span, not only did my body completely revolt but it decided to add new and unwanted hormonal effects.  We started trying again in late August and I only did ovulation induction pills.  Everything else we figured we’d try on our own.  Of course…no luck.  September rolled around and we tried again only this time my body told me to go screw myself and my follicle, or egg, turned into a massive cyst.  Luckily it disappeared and didn’t stop any further attempts at getting pregnant.  I went back in October and after taking the medications later in my cycle was shocked to find I had 3 follicles.  2 were good size and 1 was small.  In a panic I set out to gather funding to pay for the hcg trigger shot and 1 iui.  I thought “This is it!  2 at once and we are no longer paying this doctors mortgage!”  Unfortunately that too did not work.  That brings us to this month.

Let me backtrack a bit.  If you are going through ANY kind of efforts trying to conceive, you know your stress level is outrageous.  Anything added on top of that makes your chances of conceiving that much worse.  You know that every pinch, tug, twinge, pull, stabbing pain or ache makes you hopeful.  You fantasize for 2 weeks after “trying” about this miracle that could be growing inside you.  I hate that part.  I get my hopes up and my heartbroken every month without fail.

So, this month, we are trying again.  I had 1 follicle that was 25mm.  That’s a good size.  I had my appointment on Friday and OF COURSE my doctor was out-of-town.  Due to that, I had to wait to get results on blood work to see where I was sitting as far as ovulation goes.  I had gone about my day and in the middle of a chiropractor appointment I get a phone call from my RE’s office saying “Doc says you are ready and he wants you to have an hcg shot.  Can you be here now?”  I panic.  Of course I rush my chiropractor along and race back to my RE’s office to get stabbed with a syringe full of pregnancy hormone.  Normally, that medication does not bother me.  I get no side effects and I barely know I had the shot until I feel ovulation happen.  This time was a different story.  As I drove home I received a call about a job interview.  I was so taken aback by this call saying they needed to interview me right then that I may have freaked out.  I had 1 hour and 35 minutes to get ready and drive an hour for the interview.  When I got home I found that my suit pants were missing.  Immediately this is my poor husbands fault.  I flew into a rage and tore the house apart looking for my pants.  He finally braved the storm and came up to help me look and he immediately went to his dresser.  My exact words were “Do you think the effing laundry fairy magically put my damn pants into your dresser because she so freaking stupid she didn’t know whose ass those belong on?”  At that moment my life was over.  I was in hysterics.  The smart man I married said “I love you and I am going to work.”  I screamed a little more and then moved to my dresser where sure as hell I found my pants right where I had put them the week before.  I texted Jeremy and told him I was sorry and then Candi called.  I released my rage on her and then immediately felt like the biggest jerk in the world.  Now, this shot makes me crazy.  Just great.

So now I sit and wait.  I am in what is known as the dreaded “2 week wait.”  The only significance to this is that I have to wait for 2 weeks from the day I received the hcg shot to find out if I got pregnant.  We didn’t do any artificial insemination.  We only did the deed and hoped that everything swam into place.  I try to compare how I felt when I actually got pregnant to now and I can’t.  I don’t remember how I felt.  I honestly don’t remember feeling any different than I did on a normal day.  Right now, I don’t care.  That may sound wrong but I know that the stress of worrying about everything that is now out of my control does not help.  The test will either be negative or positive and then we go from there.  The only advice I can give to people is to try not to care.  That sounds even crazier but if you can find something to occupy your mind instead of sitting and wondering, you stand a better chance of having a better out come.  I know that I still care.  I worry.  I panic.  I am nervous.  I am petrified.  I also know that if this month is negative I can try again next month.  Not everyone has that knowledge.

All of this trying and waiting is horrible.  Candi and I are both waiting.  We are practically in sync with each other and can probably find out the same day.  Either there will be much rejoicing or a lot of crying and bitching about our bodies.  I also know that everyone has different experiences.  I am curious to hear about yours.  It’s something that is difficult to share about but one of our goals for Lotus Be is to get people talking.  So, to all of you trying to conceive right now, baby dust and good thoughts to you all.  To all of you still waiting for the ok to start trying again, even more baby dust and hugs and support.  We all got dealt a raw deal.  All of us will make amazing mommies one day and until that day comes we need to build a strong support system and stick together.  I have had people look at me like I am crazy when I say I want to make infertility and miscarriage something that is talked about as much as any other disease or problem people face.  Stand up with us and help us break the silence and shout “My reproductive organs are here, we’re jacked up, help us fix it!”

I would also like to ask if you will please excuse my insanity for the next few weeks.  My uterus and I are in deep conversation and I tend to get loud and obnoxious.  I yell at my uterus sometimes hoping that will help give it some motivation to stop pissing me off.  Again, I am hormonal and insane so please exuse me.

Baby, things change. No baby, just change.

Let me start off with saying, I hate change. Always have, probably always will. I am also a very weird type of planner. When it comes to big vacations or a move, I have everything organized, filed, and ready to go. When we went to Japan a few years ago, I had a binder of maps, phrases, itineraries, airport and bus schedules/layouts, phone numbers, check lists, you name it and I had it. I need to know exactly what is going on, when, and how. I crave organization and order, but I’m so lackadaisical when it comes to my every day life. I am disorganized and unfocused.

So now the change comes in. This post isn’t fertility related (cd20,4dpo), but personal. (Like how I through that in for ya?) We might be moving. I’m excited, but freaking out just a bit. Before I got married and joined the military, I lived in the same house from the time I was 6 months old until I was 18. After that, I moved every few years or more often.

  1. June 2002 to my ex-husband’s house.
  2. April 2003 to my parents house before basic training.
  3. May 2003 to Lackland AFB, TX, for basic training.
  4. July 2003 to Medina Annex, Lackland AFB, TX for air crew school.
  5. August 2003 to Monterey, CA for language training.
  6. February 2005 to Fort Meade, MD for my permanent duty station.
  7. July 2006 a few blocks away to a new house because ours was being renovated.
  8. May 2009 to Columbia, MD where I lived with a friend after I separated from the Air Force.
  9. June 2009 to Wadsworth, OH when I moved back home.
  10. August 2009 when I moved from my dad’s to my mom’s, in Wadsworth, OH.
  11. April? 2011 to Girard, OH when I moved in with my boyfriend Chris ♥
  12. July 2011 to Clinton, OH where we have been since.

This is a lot of moving. This is a lot of change. Let me just tell you, when I was separating from the military, I fell off my rocker. I lost it. I was leaving behind my friends, my home, my doctors, my therapist, my job, my way of life. I didn’t have a place to live, a place to work, or health care. I. Lost. My. Mind… Luckily, it didn’t last long. I moved home and things were good.

Change. I hate it. I’m now possibly looking forward to yet another move which brings new neighbors, new neighborhoods, form changes, schedule changes, packing, unpacking, frustration, and excitement.

Kristen and I just started the business, Lotus Be Infertility and Miscarriage Awareness Foundation on October 1, 2012. I filed all of our paperwork with my current address. I will not only be moving cities, but counties. I’ll have to update paperwork with the new address I’ll have to re-file our vendor’s license with the new county.  That is c-o-u-n-t-y and not c-o-u-n-t-r-y, which is what I filled out the first time. *I put that we lived in USA county and our paperwork was returned to us, unapproved. I’m in college; I’m a little educated, but the poor people at the Secretary of State’s office probably thing I’m super dumb. Oh well, we are approved now anyway. What? I can’t help I was so excited about what we were doing that I failed to thoroughly read what I was filling out…

I’m so super unfocused lately if you haven’t noticed. I have a million and ten things to do, but I am doing none of them. I should probably get back to work and stop babbling. Just for fun, ask Kristen about her Doctor’s appointment the other day… Oh and her dog learned a new trick! I hate change. Bananas.