OOOOOOOOH I wish I had a…

Vaginal ultrasound machine. I actually sang this to the tune of the Oscar Myer bologna song. Try it! It really works well. A vaginal ultrasound machine takes the guess-work out of ovulation. There are other things I could do. For instance, I could buy OPK’s. Which I did from the dollar tree. I am too cheap and too poor to buy them from the real pharmacy where they have multiple sticks and you don’t have to provide your own cup. The results were that I was not having a LH surge, yet I feel like there is something going on with my ovary…particularly the left one.
With us being on a “break” so to speak from the fertility clinic, I took no ovulation inducer. I am off every type of hormone known to medicine aside from what my body does, or doesn’t in my case, create. This is why I would like a vaginal ultrasound machine. You can see any follicles on your ovaries. Unfortunately, these machines cost many thousands of dollars. You also would probably do best if you had an ultrasound tech that could read them (or a really great husband that would hold the wand where you tell him…HAH!) I also have the thought that my bff would be coming over for ultrasounds all the time (they do come with the non vaginal wands when you buy the machine) so we can make sure little dude is alright.

This whole thought has been going on all week. I should be ovulating at some point this week if I were going to ovulate. I have no idea if it’s worth it to stay up until the husband gets home to baby dance and then be so exhausted in the morning I can’t function. I’m not sleeping all that well but apparently when Jeremy came home the other night and tried to “wake me up”, I smacked the shit out of him. I recall none of this. His being on 2nd shift makes procreation a very difficult thing. He is either waking up in the middle of his “night”, meaning 6am, to give me a sample in a cup or I am staying up way too late, meaning 12-1am, to do the deed and plant his seed. This makes us both very cranky.
ANYWAY! If i just had access to my very own ultrasound machine I would be set. I would know when I could sleep and not worry that ovulation is occurring at every turn. I would also know when to make my husband do his duties as a man.

Normally, I wouldn’t be worried about ovulation without medication. However, I have lost 20lbs in the last month and the doctor told me that with every 10lbs I lose my chances of ovulating go up a good percentage. This means I may not have to go back and spend every last dime I have to get knocked up. Or I could save those pennies to have an ultrasound machine…

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I still exist…

Hello world.
I am a failure as a blogger. Thank goodness Candi has kept this thing moving but I know it’s been quite stagnant with no posts from either of us lately. So many things have happened since the last time I posted anything.
Of course, Candi is pregnant. I think she has that subject covered. 🙂
I switched jobs. I left a place that made me miserable and incredibly depressed. I am now working as an office manager and I am super happy…except when people do/say incredibly stupid crap and make me want to smack them. (That just happened…I almost yelled.)
I have started this great weight loss/lifestyle change called Herbalife. I started March 8th and to this date I have lost 20 lbs. That is the most weight I have ever lost in the history of me trying to lose weight. We are hoping that this helps in the baby factory to boost production. I thought maybe I was hallucinating because I couldn’t tell that I was losing any weight until this morning when I realized my pants are super baggy. Crazy for me since my clothes are never baggy.

I had that hsg in January and nothing, nada, zilch. I ovulated with meds for the last couple months but nothing. Depression set in and I decided I needed a break.

And then the shit hit the fan. My dad died. He had been on dialysis for 6 years due to a chronic kidney disease and he decided it was his time to go. This is still pretty raw and will probably need a whole separate blog post because I can barely talk about it without needing a Xanax. We took him to Hospice on the 21st of March. The 22nd I stepped away for a doctor’s appointment. Of course for a pregnancy test/check up at the fertility clinic. I had a good sign and thought I might actually be pregnant and maybe in the back of my mind I could convince my dad to go back on dialysis. I know this was a dumb thought but I had it. Of course I was not pregnant. So on top of all of the emotional stuff I had going on with my dad, I had that to deal with too. Saturday, March 23rd, my dad passed away. I watched my daddy take his last breath surrounded by our family. You say you are ready when someone makes a decision like this but really you are not. Ever. I have a giant hole in my heart now and I know I will forever.

This has been a pretty ridiculous 2013 and I was really wanting this year to be a great year. It has had its ups and downs and it’s only April. That brings me to a whole new world of triggers. 1 year ago, on the 13th, I found out I was pregnant. So, I am on a fertility break. The doctor agreed that this is not the time for me to be trying since I am now being medicated for stress and anxiety and insomnia. I think it’s really about time I go see that shrink. I am hoping that I don’t go completely off the deep end because we know that I am already in the shallows heading my way there.
I promise I won’t be away so much. I will be writing posts as much as I can. I need to get my mind off of everything else, or at least have a place where I can say what I want and not give a damn if anyone is offended. This is all over the place and I know that but please forgive me. I have to blurt it all out and in time it will all be explained bit by bit.
Love to all…my uterus says hi too.

Hysterosalpingogram. Say that 3 times fast.

That word has never exited my mouth. Only because I get halfway through and decide it’s too difficult and I shorten it to what many know it as “HSG”. This is that lovely test where the doctor injects radioactive dye in your uterus to see if there is a blockage in your tubes. I had my 3rd hsg on Tuesday. I knew what to expect. I took a few Ibuprofen before I went in and I was ready to go. It wasn’t bad. The doctor said there may have been a little block because there was a little hesitation on my left side but the dye was flowing just fine and everything looks good. Thank goodness. I also informed my doctor I would much rather have 400 hsg’s instead of 1 uterine biopsy. I’ve had 4 or 5 of those and let me warn you…they are horrible. Worst thing ever. I have a really high pain tolerance but that test is enough to make me decide to do adoption only.
The hsg not only clears out your blockages but apparently makes you incredibly fertile. So my plan of not trying this month has been put aside. I’m not crossing anything (especially since crossing my legs would be completely unproductive.) So we are back to having more artificial insemination with no break. I’m ok with it…I think. I was going to try to lessen the crazy in my life and take a month off but that’s not going to happen it seems.

I thought I had so much more to say about this topic but apparently I don’t. I kind of have a mental block with this. I keep thinking of great, hilarious things and when I sit down to write I blank. Maybe this little weekend will break that blockage just like the hsg does for my fallopian tubes.

Until next time my lovelies.

I’m mental.

For the last few days I have been sick. Generally feeling like crap. I don’t know if I got a little of that flu bug or if I just have been so ridiculously depressed that my body is succumbing to my mental inadequacies. Either way, it was not fun. I was to the point yesterday where I didn’t care what happened. I cried all day long. I would be fine and then I would get a text from Candi, my husband, or a message at work from Trisha and I would have a mental breakdown. All day long. I have been trying to figure out if it’s PMS or if it’s hormonal because maybe, just maybe, this cycle worked and I got pregnant so I have a little alien leaching off my brain stem. Of course I am hoping for the latter but who knows.

This is what kicked off this post. During all the crazy and not feeling well I kept feeling as though I had cramps. I never used to get cramps before I lost our baby. I very rarely knew when Aunt Flow was coming for a visit unless I checked the app I have for that. Now I get cramps. Normally, I would say women are giant babies when they get them if they call off of work or don’t function and only stay in bed until they are gone. I apologize to everyone for thinking that. I have never had so much physical pain until I got cramps. So just thinking I had cramps made me mad. I knew I would be irritable and not very happy until they were gone. Then a funny thing happened. I didn’t have cramps. I was confused. I figured I was trying to make myself have them because I did something stupid. I never test before I go to the doctor to find out if I’m pregnant or not but this cycle I tested 5 days early. My TTC rule #28483 don’t do that!!! It’s just dumb. I get upset and possibly it’s wrong.

Fast forward to this morning. Again I think I have cramps. But I don’t. Do you know those crazy women that trick their bodies into acting like they are pregnant? I feel like I’m doing that. I have had the stomach flu, I’m nervous about an interview I have this afternoon, I am super stressed out, and I am 2 days from the start of my cycle. Maybe it is cramps. I can’t decide. I don’t have all the normal symptoms I get before I start. The symptoms haven’t changed in months but I wouldn’t be surprised if they did this month just to piss me off. I keep gagging and feeling like I’m going to throw up. I never throw up. Yeah, I may have thrown up with the flu but this is different. But again, I’m mentally screwed so I’m probably bringing this upon myself.

So here I sit. 2 days before I’m supposed to start my period, apparently wishing cramps on myself. I am incredibly insane…which I can attribute to many things. Which, by the way, I need to apologize to everyone who has been in the path of my rage. There is a list so long that it would take me an hour to write. But, I’m sorry. I have way too much on my plate and I’m pretty sure my husband is moments away from committing me to the psych ward. I hear it’s nice there. They give you the good drugs.

We aren’t going to try next cycle. We are going to do another hsg (dye into the uterus which clears out blockages) and birth control so that I can get my mental faculties back. If you have ever done months of treatments before you know how crazy you can get with the extra hormones. If you know me at all, you know how absolutely nuts I am WITHOUT the hormones…it’s better for all involved. I don’t feel like me and I’m losing grip on reality. We both think this is a good idea before I do end up in a straight jacket or in a clock tower somewhere. Here’s to a much saner month and less crazy in the future. Also, here’s to another wasted cycle. I know I haven’t been checked but I am supposed to start on Sunday and my doctor’s appointment is Monday….I have a strong feeling that, because it’s the grossest thing in the world to me, I will have to have an internal ultrasound while bleeding like a stuck pig. It’s just how my luck runs.

Letter to my little one: For when you doubt my love

Good morning sunshine! Right now we are 12 weeks pregnant. That means that you have been growing for 10 weeks now. I’m still not feeling well yet, but I’m cherishing every moment I have with you, because I know how precious every minute is. If we haven’t told you yet, but I’m sure we have, you actually have 4 older siblings! You have your two sisters, Brooke and Emily, that you are well aware of. You also have your sister, Jordan, and your brother, Mason. We lost both of them before they were born and we miss them every day. So far, I’ve gotten to spend more time with you than I have with either of them. Thank you for hanging in there!

When we first found out I was pregnant with you, my doctor (who I adore!) told me that my blood work didn’t look good, and to be prepared that we might lose you. I was devastated. I sat in her office and cried hysterically, as she continued the conversation with another concern. If we did in fact lose you, she wanted us to take some time out from trying to have another baby. She was worried that I may not be able to handle another loss, mentally. I could barely wrap my head around the fact of losing yet another child, let alone not being able to try again for an undermined about of time. Luckily, your dad vetoed that idea. He knew how much we wanted you and taking time off wasn’t an option.

As I was waiting over an hour (and the longest hour of my life) to have more blood drawn, I asked your dad if we could let every one know that we were pregnant. I felt strongly that we either needed prayers, support, or both. He said to do whatever I felt I needed to do. Right there, at the doctors office, at 4 weeks pregnant, I told the world about you. I posted a message on Facebook for all the good thoughts and prayers our family and friends could muster. I told them how much I loved you and how I didn’t want to have to lose another baby. If you were going to go to Heaven, they would at least know the depth of my love for you, in the short time you were with us. At that moment I prayed a prayer I had never prayed before. I told God that you were His. He was in control of your destiny and that if he was going to take you, I’d let you go. I wouldn’t be happy about it though. I left this pregnancy up to Him.

I got my blood taken and the next day the doctor called with some good news. You were growing! Prayers and good thoughts continued to come in. My hormone levels were increasing the way they were supposed to, but we weren’t safe yet. I had blood drawn every day for a week. Each time the news was better and better! We made it to 6 weeks, when I lost Jordan- milestone. I heard your heartbeat and saw your picture- milestone. We made it to 9 weeks 4 days, when I lost Mason- milestone. We just made it to 12 weeks- milestone!

On Monday, your dad and I will get to see you again. It will have been 6 weeks since we’ve seen you last. You’ve grown a lot since then. They say you are about the size of a lime, but I don’t believe it. I check your heartbeat every few days, just to be sure, but you seem to be doing great! I can’t wait to see you, baby!

Now you may wonder someday, when did I first know that I wanted you. Well, always. There has never been a time that I questioned if I wanted to have kids or not. Not even for a second. I really knew and began thinking and planning about you when I was 14. I would watch a talk show called Maury. He had teens on his show that really wanted to have babies. They were trying hard to get pregnant and they were only the same age that I was! I really wanted you then, but I was smart enough to wait. I wanted to be married. I wanted to have a job. I wanted to be able to take care of you. No matter what though, I knew I wanted you.

When I was 18, I got married. I had a job. I joined the military. I was so ready to bring you into my life! I prayed for you every night and wished upon every star. God had other plans, though I didn’t know it at the time. I spent the 5 years that I was married waiting for you. My ex-husband was manipulative and abusive. It would not have been a happy environment for you, little one. Looking back, I’m glad you waited to come.

Fast forward 5 years and here we are. We have your dad and Brooke and Emily. Oh and of course the dog, Sam. He loves kids. He thinks he is one, actually. We have two angel babies in Heaven, watching over you. You are already so loved and have been for so long. Your dad is an amazing man and I can’t wait for you to meet him. You will love him so much. He is kind, caring, strong, hard working, and he wants you just as much as I do! We are so happy to have you, baby. You were wanted for so long, and now here you are. We are counting down the days until we see your smiling face. You are loved. You are wanted. You are a dream come true and an answered prayer.

Love Always,

Mom

 

Prepare to cry

Not so much a blog post today, just an update. If you haven’t noticed, Kristen and I have compiled a list of our favorite miscarriage and infertility songs on a tab called “Listen at your own risk.”  I have taken the liberty of adding all of the songs we’ve chosen into a YouTube playlist for your convenience. That way, you have access to them whenever you need a little inspiration or a really good cry. The link is on the “Listen at your own risk” page. Bring on the tears.

It’s a two parter!

So I suck at blogging everyday. It’s not that I’m not amazingly talented or super funny all the time. I just can’t put my thoughts into words very easily lately. I have had 3 job interviews and I go in very confident and I leave feeling like my IQ dropped 100 points in the interview room and I babbled like my 2-year-old niece.
Any who! It has been an interesting first 4 days of the year. I have only been to work 1 day this year which makes me smile every time I say that. As most people know we have not stopped fertility treatments. I took my Letrozole as prescribed days 5-9. I went to the doctor on day 12 which was yesterday. What happens is I get un ultrasound and blood work done. They check all the levels they need to. Progesterone, LH, and estrogen I think. I don’t know, I try not to ask. So yesterday, my doctor is still out-of-town on vacation and they have this “sub” ultrasound tech. She’s nice and all but she’s not my doctor. So they check my ovaries. Side note-I was concerned there would be no eggs because I wasn’t feeling the pinches I usually do on whichever side I am ovulating on. She checks my left side first. I immediately panic when I see not 1, not 2, not 3, not 4, not 5, but 6 follicles. NOW! Not every follicle will produce an egg. They have to be a certain size before they will pop out a mature egg that is viable for use. The size they should be is anywhere between 18 and 29mm in size and the ones on my left side were no larger than 11mm (this all depends on your doctor. Mine once let one get to 32mm before–no baby that month.) I was slightly unhappy but I realize that I am responding very well to this medication. She checks my right ovary. BAM! One big fat one! There were a couple little ones like on the left side but hey, 1 is all it takes. The nice big fat one was 19mm. The routine is to then get the hcg shot and ovulate and get inseminated the next day or do the wild thing for 4 days straight. This month my doctor said wait until tomorrow for the shot. For the last 4 months, these have been my exact results (minus the crazy amounts of eggs on one side.) I asked the girls why he decided that I needed to wait. They said that my numbers have been as close to identical as possible for the past 4 months and he wants to push it just a tad farther to get better results. So today I went back into the office (a 30 minute drive) and got another ultrasound and more blood work. You would be shocked to know that a follicle grows so quickly! Today the big fat juicy one measured 25mm. Go us! So I got my shot and informed the girls we would definitely be going forward with an insemination.
This means 2 things. Not only do the husband and I have to BBD for the next several days but he will have to wake up at about 6am and give me a sample of, what I call, my children. I will be at the office by 7am and they will “wash” the stuff and prep it for insemination. I like to say these sperm get a golden ticket. They pull a chance card and are allowed to pass go, collect their $200.00 and have fun racing to the finish line. There is nothing else to be done after this. I will lay on the table at the doctor’s office and go about my business…oh…and then start my 2ww. (I’m rolling my eyes if only you could see me…) So, there you have it. I will be inseminated like a cow only a farmer isn’t sticking his entire arm up my vag. A doctor gets to shove a catheter in there and splash me with a little Jeremy juice.

I told you this would be a 2 parter. It is but I really don’t want to write about this. I don’t believe dreams really mean anything except for your sub-conscience to make you paranoid while you sleep. I don’t really dream that often but when I do they are pretty rememberable. I know when I was pregnant I dreamt every night and they were such vivid dreams I would wake up and have to wake Jeremy up to make sure I wasn’t still dreaming.
Since I don’t really believe my dreams mean anything I don’t talk about them all that much. However, this dream freaked me out and I had to write it down. I couldn’t stop thinking of the baby we lost. I couldn’t stop imagining him. I couldn’t stop trying to picture his face or trying to feel how small he was or trying to hear him cry. Then all of a sudden he was there. Perfect and beautiful but I still couldn’t see his face. I could see his shape, his chunky arms and legs, his black hair and I could hear his little cries. I wanted to hold him but I couldn’t, someone was stopping me. I looked to see who was holding him and to talk some sense into them only to find out it was my uncle who had passed away almost 5 years ago. Sitting next to him was my grandfather smiling at him, speaking Hungarian to him and I understood everything he said. Next to them was a very dear family friend that just passed away last week. They were smiling at my son and telling him how amazing he was. Then my grandfather, who I never met because he died 8 years before I was born, said to me “We have him. He is ok with us. Your little boy is ok. Don’t worry. His brothers will come to you soon.” I started crying in my dream and said I want him now. I was told by my uncle that I needed to wait. He was needed with them and, again, his brothers would come to me soon. As they turned him around to show me his smile, this light almost blinded me and caused me not to be able to see his face. I told them I loved them all and I kept talking and was still crying. I woke up crying.
That has me completely freaked out. Like I said before, I don’t think about my dreams meaning anything but this was something I have never experienced before. I might need a psychic. I most likely need a psychiatrist. However, this gave me a strange feeling of relief. I felt this calm after I saw all of them with the baby. I know I only carried our son
until 10 weeks but he’s still my baby boy. And I got to see some folks I miss and love dearly.

So, there you have it. I’m insane. I have 2 weeks in front of me that I will be a nut job WARNING! WARNING! And I am in some strange way at peace now that my boy and my family are ok somewhere. So now, I will go make myself pancakes because they are calling to me. I saw them in a movie this afternoon and I can’t seem to get the taste out of my head. So excited for pancakes 🙂

***this is for Candi**** sorry for being a bitch on the phone. i don’t know why but i was and i apologize. i thought i would make it more public so you would believe me 🙂

Insensitively: it’s how we roll

I am a very sensitive person. I do not have thick skin; I take things personally and I’m a crier. It’s common knowledge that we, as people, act differently depending on our situation. We may use different language and caution when dealing with superiors or strangers than if we were interacting with our close friends and family. I know Kristen and I told you that we’ll keep things uncensored, but there is a line we try not to cross. However, a can of worms was opened in a post a while back. You may at times find us insensitive and absurd; you may even lose respect for us. As business owners, our lives our out there for the public to see. We want to share our stories with you first hand, so that there is no misunderstanding in the future. We aren’t perfect. We’re human.

Kristen told you in a previous post, back when we were working at the flea market, that we called my cousin a whore. Please know, 1) we said it to her face, 2) we said it in jest, 3) we do not mean that she is literally a whore, 4) we do not discriminate: all pregnant women and women with children that we know (and love) are aware that we call them whores. We use it as a term of endearment. And maybe also out of jealousy.

Like previously mentioned, we act differently when faced with different situations and different people. After a loss, we grieve. Each person grieves differently. Kristen and I make ourselves feel better by saying since we aren’t teenagers or whores, we can’t stay pregnant. We constantly joke that if we were whores, maybe we’d have babies too… Well it was that month, after my “whore” cousin wished baby juju on us and Chris joked about giving me money after sex, that I did indeed get pregnant. I am now a whore, and proud of it! Maybe we were right after all!

***We know that teenagers and women who get pregnant unplanned also experience loss and complications. Pregnancy loss, stillbirth, and infant loss do not discriminate. It’s a difficult process for anyone involved, whether your pregnancy was planned or not. We are not being hateful, we are just telling you how we are coping, hoping you can see the difference between a joke and actual hate.***

It all started when I lost Mason. Chris was trying to make me feel better and he mentioned that no one ever said growing a human was easy. Through my tears, I responded with, “except for teenagers and whores.”

We live in a society that glamorizes teen pregnancy and almost encourages single parenthood by way of government assistance. I know some very good moms that got pregnant at teenagers and I also know some really bad ones. I actually have a cousin who will becoming a grandma in her early 30s because her stepson (16) is having a baby with his girlfriend (15) in March. Of course they had no problems with their pregnancy.

Chris and I plan to get married sometime in the future, but we would technically be better off financially, if we didn’t. I could apply for Medicaid and WIC, if not other government assistance programs. **Please, don’t think that I am putting down single parents or those who need government assistance. I am for government assistance when needed. I am going to school to be a social worker- I deal with government assistance. Chris is a bricklayer who builds houses in low-income neighborhoods. I am a disabled veteran. I receive government benefits. I know some pretty kick-ass single moms (and dads). Government assistance is awesome, when not used as a way of life.

I don’t remember how it happened, but shortly after the loss of Mason, the “whore” fad exploded. I made an e-card that I’ve received a lot of hate and mean comments over, but if you’re insulted, screw you- you’re probably a whore. 😉

babies

Tips for TTC part 2

Good morning folks.  I come to you again with some crazy ideas on making your baby dust work and dreams come true…or at least try.  I have been doing a lot of research on a few topics that I would like to share.  They may seem like common sense but I didn’t think about them or know that they would really change an outcome.  Now, as I have said before, I am no doctor so this is all coming from my research, word of mouth and I give it to you with hopes that you will find what works for you.

I have a few of them today.
First one is absolute crap but hilarious because people were stupid enough to try this. This was an answer to a yahoo question about weird and unique tips for trying to get pregnant.
“Well, when my husband and I were trying (we now have an 8 month old girl!) he used to pull out and then roar between my legs..supposedly to ‘scare the sperm’ right to the top! I can’t vouch for its scientific merits, but it worked for us!”
I would say I want video but that’s not true. I could imagine telling Jeremy “hey, after you finish you should yell at my vagina because your sperm need a good roar to scare them. Kind of like a pep talk you know?”
I can’t stop laughing. People are stupid.

Here’s another tip: don’t ask how to get pregnant on yahoo questions. People are stupid.

I read somewhere, of course I can’t find it now, that as you near ovulation your urine gets darker. I have absolutely no idea if this is true but I am keeping an eye on this. I am currently on CD8. I go in on the 3rd to check for follicles (I’m kind of hoping there are like 7 that way there are 7 possibilities to make a baby. I have never O’d more than 3 on this drug though…) I drink almost only water. Of course I am guzzling coffee as I type this. I will report back to you on the color of my pee. Right now it’s pretty much clear. I only know when I’m going to ovulate because my doctor tells me or gives me a shot so I will know almost exactly when it happens. I am completely awesome like that.

Third one for the day. Don’t douche. Yes. This is something I asked my doctor because I wanted to make sure I could say with certainty you should avoid. Douching can wipe out normal, GOOD bacteria. It can cause the ph balance to go all wacky and make it even harder to get pregnant. If you think you may have an infection or something, call your doctor because getting any infection cleared up will aid in getting a bun in the oven as well.

This last one for the day is something that many people argue about. Elevating your hips after the sexy time. Fact number one: if you lay with your legs up in the air after sex your hips/reproductive organs are not elevated. Only your legs are. If you put a pillow under your bum then your hips are slightly higher. Legs in the air=pointless. Hips (ACTUAL HIPS) elevated=possible help. It is also a good plan to lay around “after” for 10 minutes or so. You don’t have to. You don’t have to have your hips in the air. We have tried everything in this department. Sometimes I just get disgusted and get up right away. I will say that after an iui in my doctor’s office they have me lay on the flat table for 5-10 minutes. I assume if it’s good enough for them it’s good enough for me.

I hope that gives you a few more things to “try” or more advise to ignore. Stay tuned for part 3. I’m thinking up some good ones 🙂

Holidays, hormones, and the Apocalypse

Well, as I feared would happen I failed to keep my goal of blogging every day. It’s been quiet in crazy town. A little too quiet. Technically though, it hasn’t been quiet. I just figured that if I wrote down what I was feeling and posted it online the courts would have hard evidence and I would get a longer stay in the crazy house.
So I will fill you in on everything I can think of.

The holidays.
I hate the holidays. I’ve mentioned this before. It’s not really actual hate it’s more of a dislike of the pressure we all have to sit around a table with people we barely see and make chit-chat while shoveling food in your face then open gifts that we can’t afford to buy and really hope the receiver doesn’t hate it but you had no clue what to get for them because, again, you see them a few times a year and never talk. Remember what happened with Thanksgiving? I found out, yet again, I wasn’t pregnant? Fast forward about 30 days. Rinse and repeat. On the 21st I had my appointment to get checked. I was trying not to get my hopes up. I love Candi but I swear on my life her optimism may, in fact, be killing me. I mean that with all love and respect and thankfulness that she is positive for me and the both of us but one of these days I am going to kick her ass. Everything that was going on was a sign that AF was coming…or a sign that Jeremy jr was growing in my womb. I believed the first, Candi the second. I was right, she was wrong. We were both crushed. I HAD been having an ok day or 2 before I found out. I was getting in the Christmas spirit. I was thinking maybe my Christmas miracle was about to happen. Nope. The powers that be told me to go screw myself without a second thought. I should have known this was going to happen after I lost my temper with our car salesman (had to buy a new car the week before Christmas….ridiculous) and called him every name I could think of in a 5 second time span. That’s where my hormones come into play. I ripped this car salesman a new one. Tore him up one side and down the other. I didn’t stop there. I ripped my husband a new one. I ripped a sales guy at Verizon a new one for being a dick and ALMOST threw my phone at him but then I realized I couldn’t afford bail money if I did that.
So. The day the Mayans ran out of room on a rock and caused a lot of crack pots to believe the world would end, I went bat shit crazy. After the doctors and the Verizon incidents, we got in our new car and as I backed up to leave my phone went off. I had a new e-mail. YAY! Maybe this is the e-mail from the company I have been interviewing with for the past month, where I just had an interview with 2 of the owners and I am pretty sure I got this job. So sure in fact that I cleaned out my desk at my current job when I decided to “rage quit” because I only got a 15 cent raise because I am “too loud and don’t know how to stop talking.” I open up the e-mail with excitement. I read: Dear Kristen, Thank you for showing interest in the position however, we have chosen to go with the other candidate…. I stopped reading and threw my phone. I EXPLODED. If spontaneous combustion is real, I should have done it right then and there. My husband looked like he saw a bomb go off in his face and he knew the shock wave was coming for him. I honestly don’t remember the rest of that evening except I cried. I sobbed in fact. I sobbed like I did when we lost the baby. All my “new dreams” had been crushed again. I don’t really remember talking to anyone for a few days. I truly went off the deep end. I am really starting to question my mental stability these days. And of course, like clockwork, Aunt Flo came into town just in time for Christmas and caused me to be an emotional mess the entire holiday.

I read on theinfertilityvoice.com a post about the apocalypse and it really hit home for me. I mean, too close to home. She said: “There may have been moments in your own family building journey: a pregnancy loss, an adoption fall through, or even just another BFN – those days may have felt like your own personal End Times. We don’t need prophets and wackadoos telling us the world is going to end when many of us have lived through a monthly apocalypse of our own.” Amen sister. That is the truth. Many people don’t understand this. They think we are the wackadoos (I am one but still…) My world ended again on Friday the 21st which is freaky but just happened to be a coincidence. The 22nd I woke up and started fresh even though I didn’t really want to. All week I thought about how I shouldn’t be getting another BFN. I should be holding a beautiful baby boy in my arms. I should be fighting for sleep. I should be recovering from bringing new life into this world. Instead, I was crying because of grief. I was trying to make new memories to help heal the scars of my loss. I went to church hoping that I can find my faith that I have lost track of and need to find again. I spent time with my best friend and her family and made fun memories. But I never forgot what I was trying to heal from.
My 2 best friends bought me gifts for Christmas that were perfect. Hilarious and perfect. Candi bought me a book called “I hate everything.” It is perfect. When I start getting upset, I pick this book up and read a few pages and laugh. She knows me way too well. Calley bought me this box that says “Friends will help you up when you fall, but best friends will push you back down and laugh.” Inside she put fertility rocks and crystals and said to put them by my bed since they are supposed to do something. I have 2 of the most amazing friends anyone could ask for. I have an amazing husband (even though sometimes he’s a jerk but he’s working on it and I’m working on not being such a psycho bitch….) and I am very lucky.

Even though my world ended again on the 21st I am very lucky. I’m alive. I have my loved ones, my home, my fur-babies, a job, and a car we are paying way too much for. I am very lucky.