Getting My Crap Together

Or not. 

I really hate to admit this, but I drastically underestimated the weight of the transition of becoming a SAHM. Emotionally and dynamically with me and my marriage. It's been really hard. And I did not see that coming. 

Apparently have you to be, like, tremendously self motivated and stuff. There is most certainly a Busy Bee side to me, but being busy and organized should really go hand in hand. And well organized, I am not. Which has become disturbingly clear since taking on this new role. I am currently looking into a program called Motivated Mom's which helps you keep on task and make sure you get all your goals accomplished each day. And by "looking into" I mean, I've had a tab open on the same browser window of the web page for like two weeks. But haven't really gotten around to doing anything with it...

I can stay busy, but getting all of my goals accomplished each day rarely seems to happen. Example: I will start cooking Leah's food for the next few days while she is down for a nap. In the middle of it, I'll notice the spice cabinet is a little messy. So I start cleaning and purging (please, at least one person out there say you know where I'm going with this) then all of a sudden I hear Leah chattering, it's three hours later, the house is a wreck and I have nothing for Brian and I for dinner. BUT the spice cabinet is clean! So suck on that!

Also it's just been a strange transition for Brian and I. I have been working since I was 15. So I've technically had a job longer than I haven't.  (been working for almost 19 years - I'm almost 34 - get it?)  So it's weird not to be earning anything, or not to be productive in a traditional sense - meaning the definition of being 'productive' has drastically changed and I don't know how to handle it. I think I also worry too much about what other people think about this role. Not just mine, but the SAHM label in general. Let me clarify a few things; I'm not hung up on the money part. Brian and I have had a joint account since day one. And there was a long period of time where I made more, and supported the household while Brian was in the transition of leaving his job and building his business. But I never thought of it as being the sole earner then. I would deposit my paycheck and it was like: here is this money for us. Yada Yada. And while raising a child and staying at home with them, has always been a dream and a goal for both of us. It's just a really big change and I'm still not even sure I can put my finger on what the big problem is exactly. 

I think in someways, Brian is struggling with the weight of being a sole provider on an unsteady income. He makes basically the same every month, but it is completely dependent upon his ability to keep the clients coming in. Anyone can see that is an assload of pressure. And so it seems that he technically works hard than me. Not to say that I don't work hard, or that I don't have tough days, but they are different. I have a lot more freedom, but I technically never get time off. I have not and will not ever speak for Brian, but my thoughts are that he struggling with the pressure and is a wee bit envious of my free time. Meanwhile I don't want the so called freedom to underrate what it is I do, just because there isn't a check for me to show that proves my worth. Did I tell you about the spice cabinet? Is anybody listening? Am I making a lick of sense? 
I have no idea...

Anyway, sorry for having been MIA. I have a lot of posts to finish and publish. I just need to sit down and get them done. Right after I figure out how to get all my other shit done.... Le Sigh. 

Alright, Maybe I Can Swing It.

Thank you, ladies for walking me through the logistics of it. And providing your own experiences. It has really taken the edge off of my anxiety about leaving her. I don't feel guilty about the time- never have. It's more about my being away from her. I know she'll kind of forget we're gone to an extent. Between naps and nighttime, she sleeps around fifteen hours a day. And she is VERY comfortable with my MIL. So I feel good about that. With the exception of the gloating and blustering I'll have to hear about her spending the WHOLE WEEKEND with her snookum-pie. (cue gag reflex) (and mama-bear reflex, for that matter...)

I genuinely believe in making time for Brian and I a priority. Leah goes to bed at 7pm every night, which gives us a good three hours each night. I do my best to have most of the stuff around the house finished by then. We also try to do a date night every month. The last one was in October, but it's been nuts. So the next one will be this week! Thanks to Christmas we have gift certificates to dinner and the movies!  

Anyhoo, I have decided to aim for staying there both nights, but allowing myself a little time to get used to the idea. And come game day, if I just can't handle it, I'll do one. Though I am preparing myself for how tough the days leading up to it can be. Thank you for pointing that out... And thank you again for the reassurances. I'm so grateful for the input. 

Primalizafied

Yes, I’m making up words now. Call it too much spare time (ha!), call it too little education. But I like it. And it’s my laymen's term for keeping things simple and following the Back to Basics mentality when it comes to parenting.  I like to think of how animals raise their babies. Ape's don't drop off their kids with grandma, or use the Ferber method... Yes, I understand there is a distinction. I walk upright, can drive a car, and have never, ever, thrown my poop. 

(i feel the need to point out that I'm not judging anyone, just making a funny)

I have to say Motherhood has surprised me in so many ways. I’m not saying I deserve an award or anything or have really even been challenged yet, but I’m rather delighted by how naturally taking care of Leah has come to me. Not always easy to do, but the inclination has come fairly effortlessly. It is however occasionally sidelined by the knowledge of urban myths, horror stories, and the basic yet all too real irrational fear of accidentally killing my child. I’m also very surprised by how “granola” my outlook and preference is in regards to taking care of and providing for her. I suppose you could file me under Attachment Parenting, but I hate to commit to or lump myself in to any one singular belief. Before having Leah, when I thought about what kind of parent I would be, I imagined mostly outlines of integrating her into our family, rather than changing our way of life to accommodate her. It’s not that I didn’t think having a baby wouldn't change things, and maybe it was just the naiveté of a first time expectant parent, but I really thought I would want to implement a much more rigorous schedule that would make her adapt to our lifestyle . But now that she’s here, call it the “you never know until you’re in those shoes” effect; but in my head, conforming our lives around her needs makes more sense than attempting to teach an infant to live like an adult. Now I will say, I think we’ve been blessed with a very easy baby. But so far working around her demands has gone pretty well. I don’t let her cry much. Most of her fussiness stems from being overtired and I make every attempt to soothe her while she’s upset. I carry her around a lot, that’s not to say she doesn’t get plenty of floor and tummy time while I watch her from the kitchen or fold laundry on the couch. And when in public I’m almost always wearing her. (LOVING the moby wrap, btw) Will this backfire on me someday? Maybe. But right now she’s a pretty happy baby, which makes for a very happy momma and daddy. I look at this method as a lifestyle choice. I didn’t choose to have a baby so I could keep living the same existence, I wanted something different. So it’s not a sacrifice for me; it’s a way of life.

As far as my plans for sleep training goes, I am remarkably grateful to say she started sleeping through the night on her own before I could get halfway through the No Cry Sleep Solution book I bought. I take no credit for this, and instead give it all to her thumb. Because during the week when she discovered it, she instantly learned how to self soothe. So because of her thumb I am sleeping through the night along with her. With the exception of getting up around 1am to change her. I am working to teach her to learn how to fall asleep by herself, but I don’t let her cry in the process. I rock her and shush her to the point where she is almost asleep, and then I set her down in her crib, eyes mostly open, and leave the room. About 65% of the time she will roll over and go to sleep. I know this because we have a video monitor. Other times she flips around and sometimes talks herself to sleep. But I leave her be unless she starts to cry. Then I go in and start the process over. Will this bite me in the ass someday? Maybe.

I sleep with her stuff. Her blankets, her clothes. This probably sounds nuts, let me explain. She has two main swaddling blankets. Yes, I still swaddle, but I leave one arm out. I sleep with whichever one she is not using, that way she can always smell me. And the night before the days that I work, I tuck whatever outfit she is going to wear between my nighttime nursing bra and my nightgown, so she can smell me all day, not just at nap time. Weird maybe, but harmless.

She's on the verge of six months and we all know what that means: Solid foods. While I am generally ecstatic to witness each milestone, this one makes me a bit sad. Because I won't be exclusively breastfeeding anymore. I'm thankful to say breastfeeding has gone very well for me, us. And I have loved every minute of it. It's our special quite time together. And it's a fabulous excuse to leave the room when I'm over the company that's in my house. For some reason she nurses just a bit longer then... I do plan to BF for a while longer. Probably into the range of what they consider Extended Breast Feeding. The AAP recommends supplemental BF'ing up to 24 months. I'm not saying I'll be the one whipping out my girls at the park for a snacky-snack. I honestly see it as more of a morning and bedtime routine when she's that old. But who knows, she may not want it that long, or my body may not cooperate to that extent. We'll just have to see. The moral of the story is, this is one more step towards her not breastfeeding anymore, and I'm sad to think of it ending.

I guess my reason for this post is to justify what floats around in my silly little brain and to silently address the people who think it's their right to critique my method of parenting. Who I won't even bother to respond to, who have much older or grown children who say; "Go out, you need a break!" Actually, I don't. I like this job. This is what I signed up for. This is my new life. And I don't want to miss a single second of it. 

Unclenching

Holy Crap, where did May go?!


I’m not sure how things work in your house, but in G-Town USA, Momma carries the brunt of the domestic work load. Brian and I have lived this way since we got married. I love my domesticity. I live for my home life and there is truly no place else I’d rather be. This works out well for us, because Brian is the hardest working most driven, and passionate person I have ever met. He works 65+ hours a week outside the home, and I work 119 in it. But that doesn’t mean that Brian works less than me. His job is very demanding, and intense, and he gets an obscene amount of things done in a short period of time. You could say that his job is a sprint, and mine a marathon.

Where am I going with all this, you ask? Well, I’d like to lay out a little life lesson that smacked me upside the sinuses the week before last. I contracted my first cold since having Leah, and holy crow did it knock me on my ass.  (thanks again for sharing that with me dear!) I’ve always had allergies, so when I felt more congested than normal that last Thursday, I didn’t really question it. Until late Friday morning came and suddenly I was only congested on one side – that’s how I can tell, allergies are always both sides. By Friday afternoon my wheels were falling off and I was having trouble keeping up with a baby who can’t even crawl yet. And I was only able to dip my toe in the pity pool for a second when I realized that I had been hugging and kissing and breathing on Leah all day long (before I realized I was sick). And I started to panic. I couldn’t stand the idea of her getting sick, and it possibly being my fault. So Saturday morning when I woke up feeling like snot covered death, I knew I would have ask for help. Since Brian works every Saturday I called my Mother-in-law and asked her to hang out with Leah while I tried not to croak in my bedroom. Not easy for me, but I knew it was the best thing for Leah to not be around me, and for me to get some rest. 


Would you believe I was too sick to care about having to listen to my MIL hold and sing and baby-talk to Leah? Good, cause I wasn’t and it bugged the crap out of me every single second she was there. 
How about some points for keeping my mouth shut, cause I just let them do their thing and didn’t say a single word? Nope, cause she is great with Leah, and I’m an asshole for being annoyed to begin with.

But this isn’t about my Mother-in-law.  It’s about the dynamic between Brian and I. And the lesson I’m learning about letting go and letting Brian do his thing with Leah. It’s a really sketchy line between helping him understand her cues and not making him feel like a useless failure. I tend to prattle on from the other room about what every coo or cry means. And I don’t do this because I’m a know it all. (At least I don't think I am... I mean, I don’t try to be) I do it because I ache to care of her every second of every moment. I trust Brian implicitly, but the fact is I’m with her more. I know her better. And I know that her fussiness is a slippery slope. If you don’t catch it early enough she will crash and burn and take you down with her. That mostly applies to being tired, because she tends to get overtired very quickly and then it’s really hell getting her down for a nap or bed time. So how do I find a healthy balance between helping Brian understand and anticipate her needs, and not letting her suffer because he doesn't realize she's about to fall apart but I don't want to nag him?

Well I got a crash course in learning to let go this past weekend while I was sick. I didn't want to be around Leah more than I had to, and the times that I did I was wearing a surgical mask. (Is that nuts?) So I had to let Brian do the bulk of the work. It was SO hard to not be the one caring for her, especially when she was crying because it wasn’t what she was used to. And I know realistically, she was FINE. He wasn't forcing her to watch Moonshiners or holding her up by her ankles. It’s just horrible to listen to her crying, when I know it’s something I can fix right away. I’m happy to say however that he took the reins like a champ. I was so proud and grateful and impressed. But not one bit surprised. He's great with her, and the coolest part about it is, it's because he wanted to be. And sometimes the desire is more important than the know-how. I want to feel okay with her crying a little while she’s getting used to him caring for her, and putting her to bed. But a big part of me feels like it will be better for her if we wait until she isn’t so little to get her used to this. Ultimately I want him to be involved, and not because I need a break, but because I want her to feel as used to him as she is to me. I want him to know that bond. Where I struggle is being okay with her crying. We are not going to practice the Cry It Out method, so I’m having a hard time with where this transition falls. (not judging anyone on CIO, that’s just how I feel)

So I’m back to my semi-healthy self again, and back to running our daily and nightly routines. But the battle still continues. And I don’t mean that to sound like we fight constantly. I mean it’s a battle to constantly try to foresee her ever changing needs while cementing routines that work for her and us, and adapting to how that changes the dynamics in our marriage. It’s just as hard as I heard it would be, so maybe this is why I am desperately trying to control what few things I still have a handle on? Does that make sense?


Stay Tuned.

Radio Silence

I've had plenty to write about lately, but just not the urge to write. Which feels strange to me. There have been many moments over the last two plus years where I found myself suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to come here and lay it all out. Every thought. Every feeling. Leaving no detail unwritten. But lately I find that I'm less and less inclined to share. Not because I think the details of my goings on these days are any less important, but because my feelings aren't bubbling over the top anymore. This break from trying - it's starting to become more than a getaway and more like an extended leave. Don't get me wrong it's not like all the baby thoughts have magically disappeared- All the normal stuff that bothers us infertile's still stings, but the voices that echo the pain back and forth have begun to grow still, and I can hear myself think again.

It's kinda nice.

So as much as I hate to admit it our old RE was sort of right about seeing a urologist. He was a really cool Doctor, and aside from being extremely knowledgeable about IF, he was just really funny and warm, and didn't BS us. And in the middle of the appointment he stopped what he was doing and told us he hopes it happens for us soon because we're going to be great parents. It was just so sweet of him to say, he sounded so genuine it kind of caught me off guard. And then he asked Brian to turn his head and cough.

So other than concluding the appointment with information we already knew, we did at least get some reassurance about Brian's Testosterone levels, which our most recent RE told us to look into. Brian's results were on the higher side of being boarder line, but it turns out that his test was done at 1pm, when testosterone levels should be checked at 8am... So this doctor said they would more than likely be normal if we were to test again at the correct time. Which makes sense cause Brian usually has a five o'clock shadow by noon. So next we'll probably do the DNA fragmentation test with our current RE because they give a discount to those who have no IF insurance coverage.

In other news we're going to interview one more RE. He's very well established, and closer to home than our current RE, so if we like him and the cost won't be much different then it'd be nice to be so close to his office. And while I feel it's necessary to finish up some testing and check one more doctor off our list, I also think it's important that I tell you all how far away our next treatment will probably be. We haven't set a date for when we're jumping back on the ttc train, and we're not going to. Partially because of finances and partially because I am REALLY not ready. I still can't believe I feel that way, and I remember shaking my head when reading a statement like that on other blogs. I couldn't identify with not wanting to pursue treatments. But right now, I need to focus on me and Brian. I've been doing that a lot more lately and it feels SO GOOD. The clouds are slowly lifting, and I'm head over heels for my new found freedom from heartache. Yes, I still think about babies, and everything we've gone through. I still haven't gone back on Fac.ebook to avoid a pregnancy related status update. But the wait/weight is gone. I'm not going to let anxiety and frustration rule my life anymore. Until I start cycling again anyway.

Strong Enough

We're supposed to visit some good friends this afternoon. Their baby girl is a week old today. In anticipation of her birth I bought a gift about a month ago. So that I wouldn't have to handle shopping for the gift, and enduring a visit in the same period of time. It would just be too hard. I bought her some Sharks onesies. Something I had anticipated buying for ourselves for a very, very long time. Her daddy is a big Sharks fan, and I knew how much he would appreciate it. But since the day that I got them I've wanted to return them. It feels like a purchase I should have waited to make until it was finally our turn. Like somehow buying those clothes for someone else was a resignation or an abandonment of a dream. If I decide to get them something else, I will donate the Sharks stuff.

I can't keep it here.

We're struggling with the impending visit, and at this moment debating whether it is something we can withstand at all. And it makes me feel like an awful friend. It makes me feel weaker than I know I am, and also selfish.

But today isn't just Sunday, the day we're supposed to meet our friend's new baby. It's also my second Blogiversary. And I find that I'm feeling very conflicted about it. On one hand I can't imagine my life without all of you in it. The friendships I've made here are deeply cherished and more than I ever anticipated; imperative to my well being. I'm grateful for the history it has recorded. It's a constant reminder of how amazing my husband is. I truly believe that Brian is my soul mate, and he's made me a better person in every way possible. And as horrendous as infertility is, it's made us infinitely stronger.

While I continue to feel appreciative for all those things, today I can't help but regard this place as a potent relic filled with anguish, and despair, and failure. Sometimes the thought of how much I've shared here is overwhelming, and I feel embarrassed and ashamed. And all at once sorrow when I realize how much time has actually gone by.

I don't quite know how else to say it. Today is flooded with disappointment. Disappointment that another year has gone by and we still have an empty spare bedroom. And disappointment from letting a friend down. If we don't show, I'm sure they'll forgive us, but I know this is a day I will never forget.

My Gratitude

Feeling better today. I've done pretty well so far with not completely over analyzing symptoms. I'll probably chalk most of them up to the medications anyway. I haven't read the list of side effects from the Prometrium because I don't need anymore knowledge on what might be related to a pregnancy. The one symptom that is missing however is the sore boobage. They normally start to hurt the day after I ovulate. But here I am, 10dpo, and the girls are blissfully silent. It's a nice change, I'm used to them hurting for two weeks at a time, so this is great!

So like I was saying I'm in a much better place emotionally today. That may have to do with the wonderful day I had yesterday. Brian and I celebrated our sixth wedding anniversary. I fully planned to dedicate a post to it, but I spent more time with him instead, and I'm sure he appreciated that. Up until last week, we'd been having kind of a tough time. We had a pretty nasty argument a week ago, and ever since then I think we both realized we need to just try harder to be good to one another. Not that it had completely gotten away from us, but we have a lot going on right now, even outside of the IF stuff. But yesterday it all disappeared, and I spent the day with my best friend, we didn't do anything particularly exciting, but we never left each others side from sun up, to sun down and it was wonderful. He is wonderful. And I become more and more thankful for him everyday, especially on the hard ones. I love you, Brian. Thank you for making my life amazing. You've helped me become the woman I am today, and I'm so grateful for that.


And I'd also like to send out a huge thank you, and a big squishy hug to all of you who've been so supportive. I know my emotions have been all over the place lately. I totally realize that my feelings in any given post usually contradicts the previous one... But you've all done a fantastic job at keeping up with me.

Sometimes I worry that this blog comes across as one big pity party. That might be because I use this place as an outlet, and unfortunately when I'm in a bad place, I lose the ability to see when I'm being a whiny mess. I don't always feel as crappy as some of my posts may convey. I just use each post to help me shed that heavy cloud of sorrow or anger that I'm experiencing at any particular moment.

And thank you for following me to my new blog. I was a little worried at first that I might loose some of you, but your comments prove otherwise. I'm just so thankful to have all of you in my life. To the ones who live near by, and the others whom are far, far away... It's nice to know that even if we can't grab dinner together, there's always instant access with my laptop. So no matter what time of day or night - you're always there. I hope I can do the same for you.

Letrozole, You Sneaky Little Bitch

I know what your thinking.

Isn't she on CD8?

Those OPK test lines seem awfully dark for this point in her cycle.

Jeez, she'll probably get a positive in the morning.

Tomorrow Afternoon at the latest...

But what about the Ovidrel sitting in her fridge? I thought she is supposed to trigger with that later next week...

I KNOW!!!!!!

Dr. RAWKS told me to start testing on Sunday, which would be CD10. But I started to get that pinchy pressure in my abdomen that is oh-so-recognizable at this point in my IF career. So I decided I would test this evening. Just to see where I'm at. And a disturbingly dark line showed up right away. I realize this is not a positive test. And the picture may not do those lines justice, but they are pretty dark, and I seriously expect to go in this weekend for my IUI.

Have any of you who've taken Letrozole/Femara had a similar experience?

This is typically where a slur of gratuitous expletives would be spewing out on to the page with little regard for common decency. But since my last two cycles have been so wonky, I'm actually not as bothered by this as I think I normally would be... The main reason is because my incredibly amazing husband went to pick up and deliver our precious cargo to the clinic today. I initially thought I could do it next week, and then something inside made me press to get it done today. And my Mr. being his AMAZING self, obliged. I know it screwed up his schedule and he was frustrated with the short notice, but he didn't give me a hard time about it, even though I know it really threw a wrench in his day.

Thanks Dear.

I really hope this was your last trip over there.

As always, I'll keep you all posted.

Well That Didn't Last Very Long...

I think I used up all my happy in that last post. That brief burst of jabbering about lucky numbers and signs was evidently the bottom of the barrel for me. Although it's seemingly more obvious now that I've reread all that four leaf clover, unicorn shit...

And I've got another confession to make. I spend more time online with the IF blogging community than I think I ought to. I say that because my social life is pretty much non existent these days. Let me first say that I have always been a homebody. I always enjoyed an intimate setting rather than a vibrant one. But it's gotten to the point where I'm leaning on you all a lot. Brian is a little concerned. He says it's all I ever talk about. He thinks my hopelessness is hindering our conception viability. He doesn't understand why I don't make much of an effort to hang out with our pregnant friends. He doesn't get why I would feel jealousy or resentment towards people we love just because they have something we don't. I wish I could help him understand. I wish he could see the guilt that comes with feeling this way. I wish he knew that I feel like it's my fault that we've lost two sets of friends, because I'm not strong enough to hide my baggage and pretend everything is okay while my girlfriends rub their swollen bellies and debate over strollers and daycare. Please don't misunderstand, Brian is a wonderful husband and for the most part very supportive. But the last few weeks have been particularly hard on us. He thinks I'm obsessed, I think he's insensitive, and the next thing you know we're fighting over dinner at California Pizza Kitchen.

We can't be the only ones who've hit these lows. Until recently I could honestly say that the challenges we've dealt with have truly made our marriage a lot stronger. I guess I need to start working harder on that. It's not fair that I have become so consumed with my feelings. Above all my marriage comes first. I hate that I've let this overtake me. But it is so difficult to ignore.

Usually around now, 6dpo, I would be feeling anxious about being that much closer to knowing our fate. But all that comes to mind is what our next protocol will be once this cycle is done... Case in point: As of today we are the proud owners of four new vials of donor sperm. I called yesterday just to check the inventory of our specific donor. Turns out it was all gone. His next batch of vials won't be released from quarantine until January. Each sample is tested for STD's, HIV and AIDS then remains in quarantine for about six months until all tests are conclusive and verified negative. When I originally ordered our first six vials in June, there were well over 25 samples in stock. Guess we have good taste. The woman I was speaking with was very kind, but I got a little upset and asked if there was some kind of waiting list I could apply for. She asked me to hold, and came back with great news. She said she was able to pull from a special inventory because I had already purchased from this donor. The most we could get was four vials, still much more than we could afford, but I had to make the decision right way because she said she wouldn't be able to guarantee they would be available next week. And if this cycle doesn't work we would be in the position of having to pick a new donor. She also told me that our donor has another pregnancy reported, so that's encouraging. At least someone is getting lucky.

As of right now I can tell you that if this cycle doesn't work I am definitely going to ask for Clomid or injectables. I can't fucking take this anymore. Bring on the drugs!

Infiltrated

I have the greatest husband in the world. On average, he works 70 hours a week. No kidding. Real work. LABOR. And yet, he still makes the time to listen to me and how crazy I am. He has it all figured out. I worry, because he likes to "shoot from the hip", and I'm way too conservative. He's gonna love this child more than any thing else in the world. It doesn't matter where we get it, it just matters that we do the best we can possibly do to raise him/her and show them the true values of life and what its all about. I should quit worrying about things and put more trust in him. I know he's smart, and has a good sense of direction, but I'm just too controlling to let anyone else guide me. God, I love my hubby. Such a good man. I can't wait to see him play catch with our boy, or teach his girl how to build a doll house, or play catch.  He's gonna be such a good dad. We should just do it already. I cant wait to have a family to call my own.

I love my wife.......I'm glad she let me write this.......Thanx pie!!!

**********************************************************************************************************

And then he took me out for ice cream.

Shrunk

I'd never been to see a therapist before yesterday. My clinic has a licensed Marriage and Family therapist on staff who specializes in IF. She's actually dealt with IF herself. She was much warmer than I expected. I was completely prepared for a sterile room (no pun intended), open ended questions and bouts of silence. Like you'd see with Tony and Dr. Melfi. But there wasn't a moment were one of the three of us didn't have something to say. The validation we got from that session was like a divine intervention. It was about as reassuring as a conversation with god himself could have been as far as I'm concerned.

Before I tell you more about this, I'd like to clarify that Brian and I both scheduled this session for the same reason - me. In case you couldn't tell by the last oh, 76 posts, I've COMPLETELY LOST MY MIND. Yes, she asked us both questions, and Brian answered everything wholeheartedly, but I'm sure by about four minutes in, the Doctor figured out that I was the main reason for the appointment... I told her about my fears. I told her that I worried that Brian had settled on DI just for me. And how I was afraid that I was being unreasonable by not wanting to wait an undefinable amount of time to save up the money for IVF. That we were rushing into this, because I couldn't wait any longer...

In a nutshell she responded with:

"Melissa, the people who spend the most money don't always win. And I wouldn't say you are rushing into anything. TWO YEARS of trying- completely voids the whole rushing in thing. Keep your eyes on the prize. If you want a family NOW, go get one. If DI is the most reasonable way for you both to attain that, then you're making a fine choice. And also: you're crazy. My receptionist will get you our standard issue straight jacket on your way out."

Okay so I might have paraphrased a little. And maybe she didn't actually tell me that I had lost my mind. Nor did she issue me a straight jacket. But its likely that she at least considered it.

In all honesty we walked out of there with the peace I had hope to achieve in at least eight sessions. I know that sounds too perfect, but I swear it wasn't all peaches and cream. She told us that some of our other fears would probably come true and that our struggles weren't close to over. DI is going to be a life long journey. We have a lot of learning to do, and its never going to stop. And I feel strangely good about that. I feel like this was meant to be in some way. Like we are supposed to deal with this challenge, and we'll be better parents/people for it.

She also confirmed what Brian had been telling me all along. That he really was fine with DI. Like I had already mentioned here, and here. She told me that I was projecting my own fears on to him, and assuming that he'd deal with all this like I would. She said he genuinely appeared to be on board with doing DI. Then she threw out some psycho-babel about how men don't think or process things the same way women do...

I would say that this appointment was worth every penny, but at some point during our discussion, the therapist mentioned that the clinic provides your first counseling appointment for free. FREE. SOMETHING OTHER THAN LIBRARY BOOKS - THAT WAS RELATED TO INFERTILITY- WAS FREEEEEE. Finally. But seriously I would gladly have paid a nominal fee for the advocacy we received from her. Someone who's probably had this conversation a million times in her 20-30 career. She gave us the confidence we needed to move forward. And so we will. And had I not had to get the rubella vaccine yesterday we'd be doing it next month. But instead we'll have to settle for July. We're bumping things up a month.

Fear Factor

Things that I fear about creating a DI family.

1. That our openness about D.I. will invite unwanted comments or discrimination towards our child when they are older.

2. Whether or not they will have resentment towards us and their conception.

3. About how this will impact any future medical issues.

4. That our child will feel different from the rest of the family.

5. What they are going to look like? If they take completely after the donor? How is that going to make both of us feel?

6. Genealogy projects in school.

7. When they choose to look for their biological father.

From the time that Brian and I began considering DI over IVF, we worried that it was "taking the easy way out". HOLY CRAP was I wrong about that. While IVF clearly has the market cornered on being physically invasive/demanding, I personally think DI has the market on being emotionally taxing. This process so far has left me more unstable than dealing with infertility alone, except the side effects are the same. Just when you think you have a few answers and you dust yourself off a little, something comes out of right field to knock you down again. And I mean DOWN. Like we either need to knock off a jewelry store for some IVF money or resign ourselves to the idea of not having kids at all, because this is SO HARD.

We purchased a few donor profiles Sunday night, and were swiftly reminded that none of them will ever be as good as Brian. While for the last few weeks I'd been eager to read up on the extended profiles with Facial Feature Reports and/or Baby pictures. I suddenly found myself repulsed by the staggering amount of information we'd received. It hit us both hard. Almost like we'd rather flip a coin or let someone else choose.

I started to feel really unsure about the process, and over the next few days neither Brian nor I brought it up. I thought that I had made a little progress on the "loss of a biological child" front. But clearly I haven't. Still, when I start to get too far down on it, I think about the fact that I would totally adopt if it wasn't also out of our price range. I would gladly donate a kidney tomorrow if it meant I could leave the hospital with an adopted child. Like a good deed provided in lieu of payment. I mean that. We would adopt in a heartbeat if it wasn't more expensive than IVF. And adoption isn't with out its emotional baggage either. I understand that. Which only reminds me why we'll be able to come to terms with DI. Of course it's not our first choice, but it's better than the alternative - no children at all. I don't mean to sound callous. OF COURSE we are going to LOVE any child we are blessed with. I just mean - FUCK! - why does it have to be so hard to start a family???!!!

I've talked with a few different women who conceived through DI, after dealing with MFI. They've all said that once that baby is in your arms nothing else matters... I believe them. I just wish I had that confidence now. It feels like such a colossal leap of faith. 

No Way Back

The process of choosing to create a DI family has been just as emotional as dealing with IF. Just a new set of "What if's" and "How come's". Well at least for me anyway. It was a pretty rough night in the Griffin household this Saturday. Had myself a meltdown...

Even though we've made a decision, the fact that we didn't have a definitive plan left me with the need to discuss the topic incessantly. I can't help it, I'm a planner. I HAVE to obsess, otherwise I'LL DIE FROM NOT HAVING SUFFICIENT CONTROL. Every time I brought it up, it seemed like Brian wasn't in the mood to talk about it, or I only got short answers. I accused him of avoiding the topic, pointing out that his lack of discussion and interest in searching for donors was his secret way of telling me he never wanted to have kids with me at all. AT ALL!!! It started out innocently enough, while we were discussing the process with some really close friends of ours. When suddenly our conversation took a violent turn in the center of my head... Then well, Yada yada, I left our friend's house bawling. After a deafeningly silent car ride home I thought it'd be a good a idea for me to take a drive and consult the Foo Fighters- In Your Honor album, for some solid advice. Or at the very least, play it loud enough to muffle my sobs. After an hour of sitting in my car parked at a vista point, in front of a couple who was undoubtedly creating an illegitimate child of their very own in their car, Brian called me and begged me to come home. When I say begged I mean, tried to sound like he was worried instead of mad. So I went home. But I took the long way. Cause I'm 30, and I can do that if I want to. Only to find him already asleep when I walked in the door.

We're doing better today. There are still many more discussions to be had. And Brian admitted that he may have been a little less than accommodating when it came to my questions. But told me that he didn't always feel the need to discuss it at my suggested lengths. And that it seems so far away, what's the rush? My urgency stems from the crazy, which is propelled by the hormones, who are sponsored by the Infertility. And we're coming up on two years here. I'M READY FOR A CHILD, GET IT? What I mean is, it's all part of the journey. And actually I think that Odyssey is probably a more accurate term. Makes it sound more lengthy and treacherous, doesn't it?


This afternoon we had our first consultation with our RE since our test review in January. We told him that we had decided on DI, he congratulated us, and began to tell us the basic steps to get on our way. Surprisingly my demeanor was a little more solemn than I thought it would be. I've been looking forward to making this call- Taking our first real step towards finally having a family, and instead of hanging up with a beaming smile, and girlish laugh, my polite work-like tone was all I could manage. I feel a loss. Still.

Part of that loss, is from our bank account. It's going to cost double what I thought it would because of the amount of vials our Doctor prefers that we order. And for the process he prefers. It's partly my fault though, I keep forgetting to use the "Home Owner Rule" when it comes to medical bills. This rule usually applies to repairs, whatever you estimate the maximum cost will be, DOUBLE IT.

After the rest of our questions were answered by the doctor he set up two more conference calls for me this week. One will be with my Cycle/IUI Coordinator, and the other will be with the Go-To person for handling our shipments from the California Cryobank. I'd like to give you a better breakdown of the specifics for this process but I don't have a complete grasp on what exactly that is yet. But I promise I'll let you know as soon as I do. It's time for bed now... Stayed tuned for details on the chat with our RE

***Welcome ICLW Readers***

Blogiversary

It's officially been a year since I started this little thing I considered to be an outlet. Although to be fair, I'd say the words "life preserver" should be somewhere in that description. The woman I am today is someone very different from the one writing this blog back then.

The past year has offered little more than despair and devastation. But its also made me realize how lucky I am to have Brian. Infertility is painful and consuming. And can break down even the strongest of marriages.  Brian has been supportive, patient and comforting from day one. Even after we received the test results- His optimism and stoic presence has pulled me back from the depths I never anticipated. There were many nights I crumbled in his arms and cried because I couldn't express a single word. I didn't know where to start.  And that's where this blog came in. 

Even with everything Brian offered I couldn't function without some other release, an avenue to solace. This blog has become that and more. To be honest, when I started this I had just barely grasped the concept of what a blog actually was. As silly as that sounds, I'd like to point out that my mother-in-law refers to it as a "blob". Love you Mom.  But aside from the bit of peace writing this blog has given me, its also directed me towards other women blogging about their own infertility experiences. It's like this massive world you had no idea existed until you're suddenly forced to become a citizen of it. It's a world full of anguish and grief and black humor. There's an excess of sad stories but then, fortunately, we stubble upon the ones with happy endings. They fill you with hope and anticipation that your day isn't as far away as it feels. Their stories give atonement and advocacy to every breakdown -public or private, every resentful glare towards a pregnant woman, and every night you cried yourself to sleep... I'm not alone. We are not alone. I hope that other people can learn as much as I have from reading and writing blogs.  I've spoken before about the profound healing powers this blog has given me, but I'd like to reiterate so that anyone reading this, now matter what there current life crisis might be, will be given another option for finding relief.

Even though we're moving on, I'm still on the mend. I don't know that anyone ever recovers or gets over infertility. Technically even if you conceive, through medical assistance, donor insemination, or miracle, you will be forever categorized as infertile. Because the odds of your next pregnancy will likely still be- well, unlikely without any of the above proceedings.  But hopefully we'll know better what we're up against and how to handle it. I actually think I'm a better person for having been through all of this. I don't take as much for granted. And I really believe the saying "You never know until you've been there" has never rang more true. 

Nope.

This is probably the last time I will write one of these posts. The results from the tests show that we are very unlikely to conceive without medical intervention. Brian and I have decided that we do not wish to pursue treatments at this time. Man that sounded litigious. I didn't mean it that way. Let me start over.

I'm not going to post about when I get my period anymore. Brian and I are going to be D.I.N.K.'s (Double Income, No Kids) or better yet: Aunt Liss and Uncle Brian. Before you freak out, let me say a few things.

A.We are very aware that there are other options, medical procedures, adoption, etc.
2.We are not closing the doors on having children forever, but this is our plan through at least 2009.
C.We don't need your input, we need your support.

This has been an excruciatingly painful year. Having been a basket case, and hyper-focused on one goal has been extremely difficult on our marriage. It's affected everything from my overall happiness to my job performance. We can't live like that anymore. The strain is just too unbearable. The test results have brought us to a new level of closeness in so many ways. Brian and I have really bound together and feel immensely connected. We have taken this decision very seriously and talk about it nightly. It's something we both think about through out the day.

We have an appointment to see a Reproductive Endocrinologist on December 19Th. But basically just to get some information. We will begin telling our families in the coming days. Some of them may even begin visiting this blog. I welcome that. In the mean time, I'm going to focus on everything I've left behind in the last 16 months: Me, my husband, friends and family. I'm going to appreciate the Holiday's and take one day at a time. I need that.

Ask Me No Questions...

One of the many battles I have waged over the last year or so is whether or not to tell people about our situation. Initally it was the element of surprise that made secrecy so appealing. I couldn't wait to take our families completely by surprise when we told them that we were expecting. But as the months rolled on I began to wonder why I kept it so close. We have only told a handful of people, and I still sort of like it that way. Never mind the fact that I created a blog about all things I couldn't find the courage to say to your lovely faces. It's only been a month or so that I even turned off the privacy settings. Up until that point if you had googled it , nothing would come up. Every now and then Brian will ask me, why. Why can't we just start telling people? Why do you feel the need to keep it bottled up like so many other things. We've had PLENTY of people ask us when we will start a family, and I typically dodge it by saying "someday". It's pretty much my biggest pet peeve. I don't ask people about their plans because I don't think its any of my business. (hint hint)

This is where Brian and I are VERY different. He typically speaks to many, many people about his predicaments and news. He gathers up their bits of information like a chipmunk preparing for the heaviest of winters. And I however, am like a fortress. Carefully selecting information that can be shared, and even filtering previously approved materials. I know that neither way is necessarily right. And I know that my tendency to conceal my dilema's is not exactly the healthiest path. But it's not as though I am concealing anything that could affect another person in a negative way. It just feels normal to me. Sometimes it doesn't even occur to me to share a particular part of my life with other people. But is my need for confidentiality all that abnormal or even worse, harmful?

After talking more about it with Brian I think we've decided to tell our families and maybe more of our friends after we get some information from this first round of tests. Because at that point we will most likely have a few answers for the considerable amount of questions that we will get from everyone. I don't know how comfortable I'm going to be with talking about it but I guess I have to start somewhere to find out...

Anniversary

Five years ago I married my soul mate

Today I am grateful for the life we have built together

Five years ago I still felt like a teenager

Today I am a woman, and someone's wife

Five years ago the thought of getting pregnant was still scary

Today the thought of not getting pregnant is scary

 Tonight we will celebrate all of the good times

And this might just help us forget a few of the bad....

Happy Anniversary Pie, I love you.

Nope.

And while that sucks. I'd like to talk a little bit about the man who didn't get me pregnant this month. That's a joke. Honestly I'd like to tell you how wonderful my husband has been.

I, like most women can be pretty complex. And though I often know he would like to run screaming from the room- He doesn't. I try not to get mad when he mutters under his breath that he can't win, because I know he's right. And because I know I am a big jerk. Brian has been incredibly supportive, and has been my only source for positive reinforcement and hope, especially in the last month. And I am grateful for him. He says the all the cute things I want to hear about me being pregnant soon, but am to guarded to say myself. He works a lot of long days, and still finds the guts to come home to a reproductive-obsessed lunatic. So next time you see him give him a big hug. The poor guy has been a hostage for the better part of a year and could probably use a hug with no strings attached.

Thanks honey, I love you.