I Like Big News (and I Cannot Lie)

Hey guys, long-time-no-type! It's been a while and I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things here. A lot has happened since I last wrote. After a month or so of not knowing if we were going to close escrow, we finally moved into our brand new home back in May!

We love the open floor plan!

We have a rad fire pit which we share with rad neighbors.

Basically, we love our new place. I have a ton of photos I could post right now about the house but that's not really the main reason for my return to this space. 

'Member how I started this blog as a way to document our infertility treatments? Well, I'm not going to be doing that anymore.

Just kidding. Not pregnant. That's totally an echocardiogram, but it is relevant. Nope. No baby growing in my uterus, but there's one growin' in my heart.

We are adopting!

When we decided to buy a house back in November, we had quite a few items to start paying for which led us to decide to discontinue my $400+ per month acupuncture habit. After a little bit of time, I began revisiting the idea of adoption. (I say "revisit" because it's something that Jamie and I had discussed years ago before we were even married.)

We never jumped too deeply into infertility treatments, but what we had already done I knew one thing about: I hated it. After 5 years of analyzing my body and cycle, obsessing over timing our grownup-fun-time ever-so-carefully, months of acupuncture preceded by months of sticking myself in the gut with blood-thinners, I decided that's not what I wanted. I was no longer comfortable trying to force my body to do something that it's obviously not equipped for.

So, after a little bit of soul searching, I brought it up to Jamie. Admittedly, he wasn't quite ready to give up on treatments. We had a handful of conversations over some time to decide if this was what we really wanted to do, and ultimately, it was.

We made the decision back in December to adopt a newborn, but due to all of our new home adventures, we spent the first part of this year doing our research. After taking a month or so to settle in, we finally decided to get started. Now that we've officially been accepted into the program we chose, we wanted to share the news with you all! It's typically suggested that we don't tell the world this early, but I also didn't follow that rule with the fertility treatments either. We're over-sharers in this family and have a hard time keeping our lives to ourselves.

We're in the super early stages right now, so there's a long road ahead of us still, but we're feeling really great. It's my intent to keep everyone updated on our journey here just as I did throughout my fertility treatments, so keep an eye out if you're interested.

Wish us luck!

Just Friday

Welp, I haven't really been focusing on weight loss since starting acupuncture and my TCM diet, so I think Fitness Friday will be taking a hiatus. I'm still working out consistently, but because my new diet is so restrictive, I've been more lax about the things that I can eat which means that I don't always make the healthiest choices. That's not to say that I'm eating crap all the time, but I'm not as strict about it as I was before.

In my TCM diet, I'm only allowed alcohol during ovulation. Last weekend, I was certain that I was super close to ovulation, so I may have felt confident allowing myself some beers when we attended the Stone Sour Fest at Stone Brewery with our friends Bob and Maryla. I was DD so that helped me to not over-indulge, but it was difficult because I wanted to taste all of the beers.

This was on Sunday... I may have also squeezed in a couple beers on Saturday night when we hung out with Megan and Chris. We went to dinner at Pint House in Fullerton which offers a BEER TOWER, so of course we had to order that. Duh. (They also had a really great "backyard" patio which I really wished was my own backyard patio.)

After dinner, we adventured a few blocks to find Bootlegger's Brewery. We'd had Bootlegger beer locally before but had yet to visit. It's a low-key place that kind of looks like it's run out of a truck garage with it's large roll-up door. There's a few picnic tables inside, but the majority of the tables are outside. They serve their beers in mason jars and have cornhole and a giant Jenga game set up outside.

It was a fun weekend! I didn't feel bad for cheating and having a few beers because I was so certain that I was so close to ovulation. Turns out that I didn't ovulate til like Tuesday or Wednesday, so then I was like "oops! Cheat days I guess!" Meh, I'm not going to worry too much about it. The rest of my TCM diet is going swimmingly. I haven't cheated with the food at all and I'm still seeing results in my treatment which motivates me to stick to it.

[Now it's time for some cycle talk.]

Last Friday I mentioned that Dr. Lee gave me a second herbal blend to help raise my temperatures. Well, it definitely helped regulate my temperatures, but on Monday he upped my dose in hopes of bringing it up by another tenth of a degree or so. It sounds minuscule, but it makes a difference. My follicular phase (pre-ovulation) temps are hovering between 97 and 97.1. Ideally, I need to be at least 97.2.

The red line indicates when the app I use things I ovulated based on temperatures (temperatures always rise after ovulation) and other indicators like positive ovulation tests and physical symptoms that I record. This post-ovulation phase is the Luteal Phase where we wait for hopefully (and ideally) implantation. My temps so far aren't looking great, though. They need to be up to at least 97.8 and so far, I'm not quite there. I have a feeling my herbs will be adjusted again on Monday to help me out here.

Now, we wait. Anyone who has tracked their fertility to try getting pregnant knows how much this two week wait sucks. In the first half of the cycle, there's stuff to do that helps the days go by while you're waiting to ovulate. Checking symptoms, peeing on sticks, and with this TCM stuff there are things like keeping my feet warm and using a heating pad on my belly every other day, then, of course, all the doing it. (Did I mention that according to Dr. Lee, I need to immediately prop my butt up and stay that way for a minimum of three hours after it? That was fun trying to sleep like that for three days in a row.)

After ovulation it feels like there's no purpose. All I get to do now is continue my diet and herbs, acupuncture, and temping just for the purpose of recording it all the while, somehow retaining my sanity while waiting for my period to show or not show. (I guess we can still do it for the fun of it.)

It's a lot. This is all kind of a lot to maintain which is why we've taken so many breaks from really going gung-ho with trying. Now that I'm seeing Dr. Lee, though, I have a new hope. His office is basically wallpapered with successes; the walls covered with collages of thank you notes and photos of babies and pregnant women. I try to read some of the notes on every visit.

This last Monday, I found this one from a couple who were told that they couldn't conceive. This is what gives me hope.

Just Friday

It's been quiet around here. I just haven't been able to muster up the energy to make time for putting some posts together even though I have quite a bit I could be sharing. My time is being spent working out, on grocery store runs, chopping up food, working, eating, researching TCM/TTC, peeing on ovulation predictor sticks, a little bit of housework here and there (a little), going out to dinner because cooking... just... ugh, and day dreaming about redecorating the house.

Seriously, I feel like I am constantly chopping up food. My TCM doctor wants me to eat 40% raw vegetables. Those yams up there count towards my carbs, which are to be 30% of my diet. I'm really struggling with the vegetables. I chopped up this big ol' broccoli salad (the third I've made over the past few weeks), ate half of it and saved the rest. Then I opened it up another day and it was less than tolerable, so I dumped it. I still have a bunch of these un-chopped veggies left that I still have to eat and not let go to waste, but I think I'll be steaming them. I just can't handle any more raw broccoli.

I had my third acupuncture appointment on Monday. He put the same 7 needles in my lower abdomen with the electric current, and still none in my arms or head, but it seems like he put more in my legs than last time. Also, unhappy with my still erratic and low-dipping temperatures, he gave me a second herbal blend to take in addition to the first one he prescribed. The first herbs he gave me were to clear stagnant blood and to create better blood flow to my uterus. This new one is meant to help raise my body temperature. Is it working?

This is my chart for this month. The highlighted day was my last appointment. Half of my temperatures before he prescribed the second herb were under 97 degrees (which is too low) and showed as great a variance as 1.2 degrees (which is too erratic). But then all four of my temperatures since starting the new herb have leveled out and have stayed between 97.00 and 97.10. Of all my BBT charts, I've never had such a stable temperature over the course of 4 consecutive days. This leads me to really believe that my treatment and dedication to the diet are both working which I find really interesting and exciting.

Oh, because it's Friday, can I talk about m'fitness? Since I haven't posted about it since my anniversary on the 7th? Well, even when I don't post, I do still weigh in and take measurements. Last week I weighed in at 146.2, almost a pound lost since the 7th but the measurements were the same. This week, however, I slowly crept back up to 146.8... oh my gaaawd, I knooooowww. [eyeroll] It's silly, but I find myself obsessed with those stupid two-tenths increments. Though, in doing so, I confirm every month that I lose weight at the end of my period, then gain weight as I lead up to ovulation, then lose after ovulation, then gain when my period is due. It's a roller coaster that really still taunts me even though I fully expect it.

And while I'm still keeping track of my numbers and still working out 5 times a week, I'm not actively trying to lose weight at the moment. It's too difficult to concern myself both with my TCM diet and a weight loss diet. TCM/TTC takes precedence right now, and since we still like to eat out fairly often, I'm finding myself making less-than-healthy choices with the new addition of fried food to my "diet". No, it's not good for me, and no, I'm not eating it for every meal, but I'm not averse to it like I was before. I still eat quite healthfully during the day and I'm obviously not drinking my calories like I used to, and since I'm still working out, it's not really catching up to me. If anything, some days I'm not getting enough calories, so maybe I order a ham and turkey sub and maybe I'm ready to slather that shiz with mayo. Mayo is delicious on sandwiches guys, and I'm happy to have it back in my life.

So that's that. This has gotten wordy, so...

Treating Infertility with Acupuncture

I made Jamie take a picture of me and my needles.

Remember when Jamie and I consulted with a new fertility specialist and were really excited to start treatments with him? And then remember when the months of April and May were jam packed with travel, family visits, and home restoration after our flood? It was looking like June was going to be our month to get our testing done for the new RE so that hopefully we could get back to doing insemination in July.

But then, a week and a half ago, my good friend and neighbor Clare sent me an email. In it was a link to a book and an anecdote about a friend of a friend having followed its guide and fell pregnant after having been unable to for a few years.

The book was The Infertility Cure by Randine Lewis. I read the reviews and the preview pages. Less than a half hour later, I had the book downloaded on my iPad and I started reading. By page 60, I was sold.

It's all about using acupuncture and Traditional Chinese Medicine to treat infertility. I'm going to tell you straight up that I've never been one for holistic medicine, and though I'd never given it much thought or attention, it always felt hokey and hippy-dippy to me. But this book! This book straightened it out for me, at least when it comes to acupuncture and TCM for infertility. In the basic of basic explanations, TCM and acupuncture serve to balance your reproductive system and create the best possible environment for conception.

I could try to explain it all here, but it'd be wordy and probably not well thought out, so I'll tell you my situation and what the doc planned out for me.

First, we went over the details about my cycle. While I haven't been diagnosed by my OB/GYN or RE with this, he believes I have mild endometriosis based on my signs and symptoms during my period. This means that I have endometrial tissue outside of the uterus causing my immune system to fight hard against something that isn't supposed to be there. Unfortunately, my immune system knows that it wants to eradicate endometrial cells, but it doesn't know that it only needs to fight off the ones outside the uterus so it also attacks the endometrium making it unwelcome for our baby-to-be.

He also looked at my past Basal Body Temperature (BBT) charts to help assess the situation (also something that my RE did not do.) From my chart he can see that my overall body temperature is too low. After ovulation (where the vertical red line is) my temperature should be in the 98 degree range, but mine is always still in the 97 range. (He also pointed out that my spikes in temperature could also be a sign of my immune system battling the endometriosis.) He also noted that my luteal phase, the time between ovulation and my next period, is too short.

One of my own charts.

An example of a good chart.

From there he decided that the main goal for me at home right now is to basically warm up. I need to keep my feet warm and not drink anything cold. He even recommends drinking my water closer to body temperature rather than even room temperature. He's put me on a restrictive diet of no coffee or tea (not even decaf), no alcohol (except during ovulation, but hey, I've been meaning to cut back!), no dairy, and no beef or lamb. He also gave me plenty of suggestions as to what I can and should eat and in what amounts.

Oh, and herbs.

The diet, the warming up, the herbs, and the acupuncture will all serve to balance my body and my reproductive system. It should regulate my periods and work to create the optimal environment for conception.

It's recommended to give it 3-6 months, but I've read a lot of success stories (and I mean a lot because I can't stop Googling it) of women in my same situation, with years of negative pregnancy tests and even some failed inseminations and IVF procedures who start acupuncture and get pregnant naturally within a month or two. While that definitely gives me hope and makes me feel like we're finally going to get what we've been working so hard for for so long, we also have a longer-term plan. We plan to try acupuncture and TCM alone for about 6 months, then from there we will likely pair it with fertility treatments.

IUI (insemination) has about a 20% success rate when used with fertility drugs. My acupuncture doc has a 38% success rate with women using acupuncture and herbs alone. His overall success rate with women using  either IUI, IVF, or acupuncture and herbs alone is 65%. Based on these numbers, I'm feeling really optimistic.

I feel like acupuncture and TCM work to naturally change your body to make it more ready and receptive to conception whereas the treatments with my RE felt really invasive and forceful with synthetic hormones trying to replicate a fertile womb. I'm definitely not against using IUI and IVF with fertility drugs; we will go back to that if we have to. But I'm happy to try something natural with side effects that are positive that seeks to fix the problem rather than try to MacGyver the hell out of it.

For Ten Days Prior

I woke up yesterday and felt my boobs. It's what I had done every morning for the ten days prior; I was essentially just making sure they were still sore. If they were still sore, it meant that my progesterone was still high. If my progesterone was still high, it meant that my period wasn't going to start yet. If my period wasn't going to start yet, then I just might be pregnant. This is the game I play with myself every month.

For ten days prior, I had decided to be positive. Well, that's not exactly it. I reached out to a 7-year-old, beloved-by-Oprah, pop-self-help phenomenon, The Secret. [insert eye roll] Okay, so I didn't really hop on that dated bandwagon, but for some reason I had been reminded of what a woman more New Age and spiritual than myself had told me a while back. She urged me to talk to my baby, that my baby was out there and that I needed to tell her that we were ready for her. Jamie has always told me that I'm too negative, (something that I've always argued as being realistic) so I figured it couldn't hurt to try something different.

For ten days prior, I talked to my baby. I told her about us and how long we've been waiting for her. I told her about how eager her grandparents are to meet her, about her three aunts and three uncles and her honorary aunts and uncles, about her two older cousins as well as the three cousins who would all be born just months before her. I pitched a happy and loving family. I cried to her in desperation then smiled when I felt that she was with me.

For ten days prior, I had convinced myself that I was pregnant.

♦♦♦

I foggily walked to the bathroom, pressing the heels of my palms into the sides of my breasts on the way, trying not to trip over the dog dancing around my feet. The soreness I carried for ten days had mostly depleted. While aware of what this meant, the lingering warm-and-fuzzies from bonding and making new friends at Saturday's blog conference managed to buffer my disappointment.

After taking the dog out, I crawled back into bed with my iPad to skim through Facebook and Instagram. Immediately reminded that it was Mother's Day, I made a mental note to call my mom then mentioned to Jamie about my impending period. In typical Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus fashion, he didn't connect the dots like I had hoped, and I didn't connect them for him. Instead I held in my frustration that he couldn't figure out that this infertile woman was finding out she was, yet again, not pregnant on Mother's Day, and that she needed some serious spousal support. Instead, we argued over who was going to go get breakfast since we lacked anything substantial in the house. Not resolving anything, Jamie went downstairs and I continued flipping through Facebook.

I was doing fine with all the Mother's Day posts, even the ones about new or expecting mothers. There are quite a few of these on my feed, three of the expectant mothers being all three of my sister-in-laws, yet I'm finding it quite easy to be happy for them. Sara, the last of said sisters to fall pregnant, announced her pregnancy publicly on Facebook on Saturday, so I was reading through all of her congratulations when I fell upon a sweet comment from my dear mother-in-law asking "So how is our little Gummy Bear today?". For some reason, this triggered everything for me.

After crying for a moment, I closed my iPad, blew my nose, then curled up in bed. I rested for a few minutes, then decided to call my mom to wish her a happy day. When I finished up with my phone call, I went downstairs to see if we could decide on breakfast. Nope. Jamie was still grumpy that I wouldn't just go get some food, and I was still upset that he was still so unaware of my anguish. I sat in the dining room and cried a few minutes more before heading back upstairs and crawling back into bed to make myself fall asleep.

Having quietly showered and dressed, Jamie woke me up.

It was late morning, "Babe, let's go out to eat."

Startled, I looked sharply at him, covered my face, then fell back asleep. A little later, while on the phone with his mother, he woke me up with a gentle tap and silently urged me to get dressed so we could go to lunch. It was hot, so I threw on a comfortable summer dress. I messily applied some mascara and in an effort to make myself feel better, I stepped into some orange wedge sandals. I walked downstairs and sank into the couch. As we got up to leave, I took the shoes off and ran upstairs to put on flip-flops.

I felt okay as we drove to our lunching destination. While still heavy inside, I decided to make an effort to feel better, and it was kind of working. We grabbed two spots at the bar at Yardhouse; Jamie ordered a pretty tasty cocktail, I ordered a disappointing beer. We ordered lunch and I ignored the large groups of families out celebrating Mother's Day. I felt mostly fine until after we finished eating.

When we finished eating, I no longer had a distraction. My eyes wandered between a number of TVs surrounding me, settling on the golf tournament on a television behind the bar and to my left. I gazed past my husband as the broadcast showed a montage of unknowingly-filmed mothers with their children who were in attendance that day. A woman sitting next to a pond as her little boy throws grass into the water and her daughter picks clover from the edge of the water. A mother, hand-in-hand with her three children, strolling a path between holes, the eldest daughter wearing a pink visor and a polo shirt tucked into her khaki capri pants. Who brings their kids to a golf tournament!? Where are the dads!? I thought. A well-endowed blond bounces a grinning baby on her hip, the rock on her left hand catching the sun and creating a flare in the television camera. Oh, golf wives. 

My eyes welled up and my face tensed, working hard to contain the tears within my eyelids. My uterus, that bitch, ached and cramped as if to rub it in. My nose tingled. My face felt hot. Unable to command my nostrils not to drip, I excused myself to the restroom. As I locked the stall door, my eyes relaxed and the tears ran loose. I didn't cry just then, I only allowed myself to clear what had built up. I wiped those tears and blew my nose. I used the toilet and made note that while slightly spotting, my period had yet to start.

I returned to my seat feeling a bit renewed and more calm. We tried to decide what to do with the rest of our day.

"Do you want to have another drink?"

I didn't know. We considered going home and to the pool since it was hot. I really had no preference, so I told Jamie that we could do whatever he wanted. If he was going to have another drink, I'd have another, but I didn't know what I should do. I told him, vaguely, that I was struggling which I felt that by then he had finally picked up on.

"Well, maybe you should have another drink!"

I considered that more alcohol would make it worse, and we both decided to just head home.

My face tensed and tingled once again and remained that way until we had finished our drinks, paid our bill, and walked to the car. About half way home, I couldn't contain it, and I sobbed silently. I let the tears run down my neck and chest; I've always found this to be therapeutic as if my tears were washing the hurt away. Jamie held my hand and didn't say anything. It was the gesture I had been fishing for all day and it caused a second wave of strong emotion to wash over me, overwhelming relief and gratefulness that he does, indeed, "get it."

♦♦♦

We stopped at the grocery store and I waited in the car while Jamie shopped for dinner-making supplies. By the time he was finished, I was calm and collected (and annoyed that I didn't have one tissue in my purse or in the car.) Having let it all out during our ride home, I was able to get on with my day. When I walked into the house, I felt better. Not only better, but in a good mood. Having washed it away, my heaviness was gone.

My period came about an hour later and my reaction was nothing more than a casual "Aw, shit." I returned to the couch to continue on with our lazy Sunday, flipping through Mother's Day posts on Facebook and Instagram, half listening to the golf tournament on TV, giggling and that's-what-she-said-ing to the commenter's remarks.

("Did you see how it wiggled like a limp noodle when he swung it!? What power!" That's what she said.)

I felt normal again. 

For ten days prior, I was confident that I will be a mother and today I can say the same.

What You Should Know About Our Infertility

Apparently it's National Infertility Awareness Week. I've been mostly disconnected from the blog-world over the past few weeks, so it was news to me when I came upon a number of links and blog posts about the topic on Twitter. Honestly, at first, I rolled my eyes. Every week's an awareness week of some sort, it seems. I'm sure next week will be National Don't-Actually-Put-the-Cotton-Swab-IN-Your-Ear Awareness Week. 

My initial, split-second reaction was to feel defensive, and I really couldn't tell you why. Infertility is something that people should be aware of. I've been very open with my struggles, and by doing so have learned that there are a lot more people who are or have dealt with infertility, both people that I know personally and people that have reached out to me through my blog, than I would have ever guessed.

A lot of you reading this now already know my story, but chances are good that others you know are going through the same thing but choose to be quiet about it. Choosing to share, and how much to share about a couple's infertility is a very personal decision and we've obviously decided to tell the world about it. But no matter how much we decide to share, there are some things that us, the infertile, wish the rest of the world knew about our situation. Here's my personal list:



1. Yes, we've likely tried what you're about to suggest.
Charting, temping, cervix-checking, cervical mucous-inspecting, ovulation predictor kit-using, "not trying", having sex every day, having sex every other day, having sex twice a day... we've done it. And now that we're on that topic...

2. Yes, we're having sex.
It amazes me how many times I've been told to just have a lot of sex. It's probably my number one annoyance since becoming open about our infertility and almost always comes from those who have easily conceived. This is also the number one thing that makes me defensive as it has a "you're doing it wrong" connotation and those offering this "advice" don't seem to realize how insensitive it actually is.

3. No, actually, it might not happen.
The most common phrase that I hear is "It'll happen." While I appreciate that it comes from a good place and is a way of showing support, it just isn't helpful. "I'm rooting for you guys!" and similar phrases are much more welcomed and supportive.

4. Yes, we're sure and yes, we're ready.
It's common in those with children to reference a melt-down, a diaper blowout, or other not-so-blissful facet of motherhood and ask, jovially, "Are you sure you're ready for this?" While good-natured and meant jokingly, after our first year of trying it became difficult to force a chuckle at this common quip.

5. No, I'm not upset because you're pregnant.
I'm upset because I'm not pregnant. There are a lot of babies and pregnant women in my life right now. Yes, it's painful, but I'm happy for all of them; ecstatic, even. For those that I care about, I am relieved that none of them had to go through what Jamie and I are going through. I've had people express guilt that it was so easy for them, or tell me that they felt bad because they were really wanting it to happen for me first, or even that they hoped it wouldn't affect our friendship. There's no need to feel guilty; your fertility is of no relation to my infertility. There's no need to feel bad that you got pregnant more quickly than it's taking me, but I do appreciate the consideration for my feelings. And of course it's not going to affect our friendship; If your being pregnant would cause me to no longer be friends with you, then you probably shouldn't be friends with me anyway! I am happy, happy, happy for you all and while I'm sad that I can't join you, I'm looking forward to this new chapter in life where my friends and family are having babies.



If you feel that you're guilty of any of the above, don't sweat it. I'm not holding any grudges. Infertility is tricky for all involved, be it the couple or their support system. I know that it's tough to gauge what is helpful, supportive, and appropriate when discussing it; this especially proves difficult in a casual, more light-hearted conversation. Being surrounded with pregnancy is also tricky for us when it comes to referencing our own infertility; I know that we have to consider how that might make you fortunate fertiles feel as we're not purposely trying to instigate guilt or any of the like.

So, as National Infertility Awareness Week comes to a close I can feel confident that I've contributed to the cause. Next week, I'll be sure to pitch the WaxVac and the importance of not jamming things into your ear hole.

Moving Forward and Starting Over

Hey, remember when this was a blog about trying to conceive and infertility?

This photo is irrelevant.

Since last fall, I've come to know nine women who are pregnant. This doesn't include the dozen or so women that I follow here in the wide world of the interweb, either. The realization of how many women I know and "know" that are getting pregnant led to a meltdown... a major meltdown.

For a woman, unexplained infertility is absolutely, soul-crushingly heartbreaking. For a man? I really couldn't tell you how it feels. Jamie is still so frustratingly optimistic. During my sob-fest, he urged me to calm down. This made it worse. I asked him why he doesn't feel like I do and he only offered me "I do. Yes, it sucks. I'm upset about it too."

I didn't think that was enough. After nearly four years, (five, if you count a year of not-so-carefully being off birth control) I'm not upset; I'm heartbroken and I want him to be heartbroken too. I told him that I didn't understand how he couldn't be or why he isn't; why after so long, he's still satisfied with "it'll happen." I want him to hurt as much as I do.

I don't remember if I mentioned this (and if I had, I can't find it), but after our last cycle of Clomid and IUI in November, we decided to take a break. Christmas was ahead of us and we wanted to take it easy for that month and take some time to start paying off our fertility treatments. Then we found out that my mom had breast cancer, which led to my heading to Ohio for two weeks for her surgery and to be her caretaker during her recovery. So needless to say, our fertility treatments were put on the back burner for the past two and a half months.

I must have gotten my point across during my meltdown, as the next morning Jamie asked for the name of the new Reproductive Endocrinologist I had wanted to see. After looking him up on his iPhone, Jamie suggested I make an appointment.

The RE I had seen last year was fairly underwhelming. I never heard suggestions from him as to what more we could be doing. It was my suggestion to him that we try IUI. He never gave me the feeling that he wanted to do everything possible to help me conceive. So I took the advice of my buddy Carrie, who has nothing but rave reviews of the RE that helped her conceive her son, and I put in an appointment request for a consultation with him.

Here's to hoping that this new doctor can help us. I really, really need this to be our year.

No Appropriate or Creative Title

Since the turn of the new year, I've found myself struggling to remain hopeful. As we approach four years of trying to conceive a child, I'm becoming frustrated and angry. Today is one of those days where the hurt has piled up within me, urging me to just go back to bed and sleep it off. Nearly four years of my body essentially failing me has taken it's toll. There's nothing I've wanted more in my life than to get pregnant and start our family; having been refused this by my own body is devastating.

Jamie says I'm pessimistic. I say hope and disappointment are directly related; the more hopeful I am, the more disappointed I am when I find I'm not pregnant. What he sees as pessimism is my attempt at guarding myself from my own internal crash at the sight of that first smear of blood.

Infertility feels like an attack on my womanhood; like I am a failure at my most primitive responsibility. While I know I am not alone, and know friends and family who have or are currently struggling with infertility, it's isolating. Being seemingly surrounded by pregnant women is difficult, to say the least. I'm extremely happy for the pregnant women in my life, but I am extremely sad for me. What was once mild envy and a starry-eyed daydream of my own future has turned to a feeling of resentment toward myself. Why can't I do that? Why won't my body do that for me? 

What's worse is knowing that had I not suffered through infertility all of this time, I'd have a toddler by now. Why stop there? I could have even had a second child by now! But I don't have either, all because my body won't work for me.

"It'll happen!" I'm told. While I appreciate the support, it makes me want to scream, "WHEN!?" though I know no one has that answer.

"Enjoy your time being kid-less!" is also a common suggestion and we do. We take full advantage of not having any children, and it's fantastic. Jamie and I have a lot of fun with each other, our family, and our friends, but I'm ready to put that on the back burner. I'm ready to not sleep. I'm ready for the gross stuff and I'm ready for the sweet stuff. I'm ready to be in charge of creating and molding a little life. I'm ready to teach and learn from it.

I'm ready to be a mother and to see Jamie as a dad and there's nothing worse right now than being inexplicably denied of these things.