Yanking my head out of the deep, dark depths of the sand, originally written October 1st, 2013.

See the disclaimer here.

October 1, 2013

I think I've had my head in the sand. You know, like an ostrich. Anyway, I realized the other day (aka today) that I've been excessively slow to pull the trigger on just about everything. It was months before I decided to even purchase an OPK. Charting my temperature? Well, it's been two years and I finally, FINALLY just started this month. Most women jump on that bandwagon as soon as they're let out of the gate. My hesitation surely isn't any indication of how badly I want a baby because I want one. Achingly bad. So what is it? Why all of this shuffling of the feet on my part? The only thing I can assume is that I'm still grasping onto the idea of being "normal". I'm still trying to pretend that I can do this naturally like all of those loosey goosey sixteen year olds that find themselves pregnant.

I think I might finally have accepted the truth. I'm not normal. It's been just about a year since my last miscarriage. That's a long time. It's officially time for me to see my fertility doctor again and not just for acupuncture. It's time for me to step up my game and get my head out of my ass. I've been pussy footing around, scared of what I might find. Scared to open that can of worms which is medical help. The truth is, I'm tired. I'm tired of trying. And I know that this doesn't get any easier. This could be worse. We still have possibilities that don't involve 15 grand and the letters IVF. There are still other paths we can try. Unexplored opportunities.

So here's the plan - 1. Wait for Auntie Flow to visit, which I'm pretty sure she's going to do this weekend (it's Tuesday). I wouldn't be a helpless trying-to-conceive-er though if I didn't hopelessly still hold onto the idea that there's a smidgen of a chance that maybe she won't come. 2. Call my favorite psychic who helped give me some hints and predicted my last pregnancy. 3. Call the fertility doctor and set up an appointment. 4. Buy a trying to conceive book! Enough avoidance. Let's get down to business and see what all of this hubbub is actually about.

And the irony of it all is that I now feel supremely better in the knowledge that I'm actually doing something, well, or going to do something. Soon. I'm taking action. It's like I've been holding my breath for a long time,  I've finally given up the fight and now I'm letting out a huge exhale. Not quite a sigh of relief... yet. We'll see if this brings us any closer to a bundle in our arms. Here's to hoping and wishing and praying.

And on the fourth day... originally written August 23rd, 2013

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August 23, 2013

Welp, today ended up being totally normal, except for the fact that I'm now on my FOURTH, yes fourth, day of a postive OPK (ovulation predictor kit). I mean, really? Last month, that infamous "spot" I told you about ended up just being ovulation, a week later than I had thought. So much for winging it. So this month, I decided to jump back on the OPK band wagon. I even considered temping.. for a hot minute. And then I decided that my crazy, over-analyzing mind could probably do without for now. At least this month. If this month is a bust, then maybe next month I'll skip on over to the local store to buy myself a handy dandy, nifty thermometer. Until then, it's just me and the OPKs.

On pins and needles, originally written August 13th, 2013.

See the disclaimer here.

August 13, 2013

I decided to give acupuncture a whirl. I mean, why not, right? I've always heard it mentioned for people who are experiencing infertility and well, at this rate, maybe I even sort of, almost, qualify. It's been 8 months of trying. And I'm not even so sure we're trying all that hard compared to others. I'm not temping, I may or may not have used an ovulation predictor kit depending on the month you asked me. I'm certainly not using mucinex, soft cups, special teas, or any of the other random things I come across online. I am going to give SMEP a try though, which basically just tells you when to, um.. you know... try. So this month here's my regimen: SMEP. OPK (ovulation predictor kit). Acupuncture. Organic foods as much as possible. Maybe a dash of journaling and daily walks for good measure. I already mostly cut back on my drinking. No caffeine either, which wasn't much of a problem since I've never been a coffee drinker, although working at Red Bull does tempt me every so often. Sounds pretty healthy to me! Check, check and check. This is my attempt to focus more on the soothing and healthy than the obsessive. I felt a little bit like a crazy lady last month. Every waking thought was of pregnancy and it was consuming me. If I had an everlasting supply of daisies, I would have ripped off about a gazillion of those petals saying, maybe she's pregnant. maybe she's not. It was awful.

 

So back to this acupuncture. My fertility doctor is going to do it.. for a pretty penny of course. I feel kind of weird about this whole doctor relationship. We had two meetings towards the beginning of the year in which he diagnosed what he believes to be the cause of my miscarriages. He wasn't treating me for infertility. Since then, I haven't spoken to him once. I know it's just a matter of time. I know I should just try to be more patient. I know I can get pregnant so that's half the battle right there, but man.. I kind of want someone to say, "Hey, try this! Do that!" So we'll see what this conversation is like during my first acupuncture consultation. I'm also curious to see if he'll recommend me to continue sessions and, if so, at what frequency. Oh, that and I'm curious to see what these darn little needles feel like!

 

On a lighter note, hubs and I just decided to rent a big ole house. It's pretty far out there in the suburbs so we got a lot of bang for our buck, as the saying goes. 4 bedrooms worth actually. So I'm kind of thinking that maybe everything will fall into place nicely. First comes house and then comes baby? We shall see. Time shall tell. Here's to forever hoping...

Follies and friendships, originally written August 2nd, 2013.

See the disclaimer here.

August 2, 2013

Wanting something which is somewhat out of your control is a funny thing. It messes with the mind just an itsy bitsy much. I've tried to look towards God as much as possible during this time, finding comfort in the belief that He knows best about the timing of my one-day baby's arrival. I've also been avoiding psychics, which is REALLY tempting. The last psychic I went to provided me with some hints to becoming pregnant and a timeline for conception. It came true. She was spot on with the timing. But it doesn't feel right to go back to her. Or any psychic for that matter. It feels somehow like a betrayal of God. I don't want to find myself worshipping the wrong thing. And please don't misunderstand me; I don't even consider myself to be that religious. Maybe I'm being superstitious. I've also found it somewhat difficult not having any friends to discuss this long, sometimes torturous, road with because a) none of my friends are trying that I know of and b) everyone else seems to get pregnant right away!

After first being diagnosed with MTHFR, I went online and tried to find some groups of other women suffering from the same condition. I found them. And then promptly left them. I found myself stressing even more over which vitamins and supplements I should be taking. Were they taking the same things? Were their doctor's prescribing different medicines or tests? I soon found myself questioning the advise of my fertility specialist. Not to mention all the sad, sad stories of women who had suffered miscarriages, many more than I've had to experience. So where I had first turned in hopes of finding some soothing and support had actually turned into some much not needed stress.

Then I found trying to conceive boards. Finally, I was home. I can't tell you how comforting it has been to chat with other ladies going through the same two week roller coaster. People who understand what it's like to question every twinge and change in your body. An entire group of women who finally understand the level of disappointment in seeing a negative pregnancy test. I'm still learning the language because believe me, there are A LOT of abbreviations out there, but it's been such an unexpected joy that I can hardly complain. Better yet, in some weird way, it's taken the pressure off a bit. I feel just that much more confident. So thank you. Thank you to all of the random strangers who are willing to put themselves out there. It helps. A LOT.

Me and spot, originally written August 2nd 2013.

See the disclaimer here.

August 2, 2013

Babies. All I can think about is babies. My first thought upon waking? You guessed it: babies. My prayers at night: babies. I might just be legitimately losing my mind. You would think, in fact, from the number of thoughts circling around in my head about conception lately that I've never been pregnant. I keep trying to scold my mind into submission by reminding it that I've already been pregnant before.. twice. And it didn't occur after only one month of trying back then either. It took quite a few actually. Both times. So you see, it's not about whether I can become pregnant. It's about when. Which believe me, is nothing short of a small miracle. It's the one and only silver lining to a miscarriage - that small (or very big) knowledge that you are capable of pregnancy. So I shouldn't be obsessing right? I should just be sitting pretty with the knowledge that every month which ends in "failure" just brings me one month closer to the one in which I'll succeed. Ah, but if only that noggin of mine worked this way. Instead of being calm in the knowledge that this is so, something short of hysteria is happening. That whole ticking time bomb.. it's true! I've started to make crazy, insane, just-give-me-the-straight-jacket-now goals for myself. It has to happen before my sister's wedding, before my 29th birthday, before we move into a house....etc. etc.

And then this month, one week before my dearly hated aunt flow is scheduled to supposedly but hopefully not visit, I spotted. I won't even say "I was spotting," as in something that continued. Just once. I noticed it just once. For anyone who knows anything about this obsession with pregnancy, you know that there's a little something called implantation bleeding. It can happen when the fertilized egg implants into your uterus and usually occurs, well whaddya know, one week before your period! Hip hip hurray! Maybe. Or a big fat maybe not. The other scenario is much less thrilling. It could be a result of me stressing. Physically stressing. As in, this isn't just in my head anymore. Stressing stressing. Supposedly, based on some Google searching, if I'm stressed enough, my body can become low in progesterone (which naturally occurs to a degree around this time of the month anyway). If this level becomes too low, voila - here comes some spotting! Or a one time spot, if you're me.

So you see, this will be a sign either way. If in the end I find I'm positive on a handy dandy pee stick then it'll be high time for some rejoicing. If not, it may be a time for me to take a good hard look at how else I can focus my mental energies on something else. And if measuring the length of my first paragraph regarding my obsession is any indicator, it looks like I may be doing the latter.

Sadness for her, originally written June 20th, 2013.

See the disclaimer here.

June 20, 2013

I read all of my secret blog posts that I haven't hadn't yet posted. I read all the way to the nitty gritty first one. I have to say, some of them quite impressed me. But mostly, I feel sad. It's as if I'm reading about a stranger and all I want to do is hug her and tell her it will be okay. I'm sad for her sadness. Is that a weird thought? Since I am the stranger in this scenario? But I don't know. I just feel different. Like something in the air has changed. Maybe it's just me being irrationally hopeful again but a part of me feels wiser. I've tried letting go in the past (I know, because I just read the post dated almost a year ago when I had proclaimed to do so) so maybe it's not a new feeling. But I almost feel like I'm in the future, looking back at myself, and wishing I could reassure the old me. Or maybe that's just because I'm reading old posts. 

Wine and wisdom, originally written June 20th, 2013.

See the disclaimer here.

June 20, 2013

I've finally found some peace. It's as if a nice quiet has floated into my heart when I wasn't listening. I'm not sure when it happened. Slowly, surely. Maybe it has something to do with the God loving book I just read. There's something freeing about letting go. About realizing it's not actually all in your hands. It's actually not in your control at all. 

I had some doubts. I had avoided the internet and research and worry for a long time. But then I felt like I needed to take control. I needed to know. So I did research. I read a lot of boards and posts. And I questioned. Literally. I called my fertility doctor and asked whether it wasn't better if I try taking this prescription with that prenatal. I inquired. I nudged. It didn't work. The response I received was, "This has been working for others. Let's not fix something that's not broken." And you know, all of the traditional wisdom out there on the internet will tell you to try harder. To push back for what you feel you deserve. Control the situation. So I came home and I told my husband, on a bright, gorgeous afternoon while throwing a purple dog ball in the bark park for out little mutt, that this was it. If I wasn't pregnant in the next few months, we'd look for a new doctor. End of story.

The next night, on a whim, we tried a new restaurant. It had received terrible reviews online. The service supposedly horrible. The food apparently cold. Forget about it. But on a whim, I pushed and we went out that evening. It was a Friday night. To my pleasant surprise, the "terrible" restaurant had an outside seating area equipped with low resort-style furniture, two-top tables, and fire pits for many. It was another beautiful evening and we snagged a two-top table towards the middle. Some time later, two ladies sat at the table next to ours. We got to talking. One glass of wine led to another and so on. Soon, we were discussing career aspirations and swapping life stories. I hinted at my difficulties in having a child and to my amazement, my new neighborly table mate told me to see my fertility specialist. She shared with me her own personal journey and the happy ending which resulted. She convinced me that I was seeing the best the area could offer. That he was nationally known. And I felt comforted by this complete stranger, of whom I knew so little. And I saw it as a sign. That my conversation with her wasn't a coincidence and neither way the timing. To have faith, both that this was indeed a sign from above and that the sign said to slow down. To pause. To relax and ironically remain faithful in the process. I still contend that the signs are there. You just have to listen. They're hiding in your heart, your intuition and the everyday. And I'm finally listening. I have faith. Finally. 

And off we go...!

Just a brief interruption to your regularly scheduled programming to say...

We're moving back to the Northeast!!!

I'm so thrilled to announce that hubby accepted a job offer in NJ and so we will be packing up our littlest bundle of joy, uprooting my carefully crafted nest, and trekking off towards friends, family and the beach! Oh, how I can't wait for the beach and warmer weather. It's a very thankful season indeed.

2 days from hugs and kisses, originally written February 16th, 2012

See the disclaimer here.

February 16, 2013 (exactly 2 years ago to the day)

I've put it off for a long time now. I'm not quite sure why. Maybe I've exhausted so much time thinking about it that spending any more effort typing it all out just seems that much more tiresome. Our first appointment went well. When I say we love our doctor, I truly mean it. He was quick to clarify that he was not treating infertility but recurrent loss. My husband and I walked away from that first meeting with such a huge sigh of relief. And I consider myself lucky, because I didn't research fertility specialists in the area. I didn't stress over our decision. I let my gynecologist make the recommendation and followed it with an open heart. Sometimes it's simplest to let the road before you pave it's own way forward. 

There were tests. One which amusingly confirmed what psychic Valerie had to say, and one which gave me a glimpse into what might be the problem. It appears that genetically I have an issue metabolizing folic acid, which can also increase the risk of blood clots, a symptom you don't want to occur when an embryo embeds into your uterus. It's called MTHFR deficiency. I felt fine receiving the diagnosis. Relief in fact, at the realization that we now had a culprit to blame and recommendations to help combat it. What I didn't count on was weeks later, when I broke down crying at the thought that maybe God didn't want me to have children. Why would he have created me with this genetic mutation? If survival of the fittest is a fact than am I not meant to procreate? Does the world not want my genes? 

It seemed like for awhile there, about once a month, I had some type of breakdown. I never really knew when it was going to strike or what would make me feel the way I did. One day it was as simple as logging onto Facebook, like all of the other days I did the same thing, and seeing a picture of an ultrasound. That day, I mourned the death of a normal pregnancy, because with the realization that there is indeed an issue, came the reality that I really am at a higher risk of miscarriage. I really will have to do things that other people don't. I'll worry more than some people will even ever have to experience. There will be a multitude of extra vitamins and daily injections. And of course, I realize even as I type this, that it's all so unfair. I should consider myself lucky that I've experienced pregnancy. I should consider myself lucky that there's even a possibility that I'm able to carry a child to term, because that's more than some individuals will ever experience. And it makes my heart so heavy. 

My husband told me about one of his co-workers right after the holidays. In his early 30's, not so much older than ourselves. Oh and what they must have gone through already. His co-worker was taking time off because he and his wife were expecting to adopt and the birth mother was due any day. This soon-to-be Dad hadn't taken any vacation during the holidays in an attempt to save it all for the special moment when he and his wife would be welcoming that child into their hearts and home. One evening my husband shared how he saw his co-worker's car in the parking lot and noticed a car seat in the back, all strapped and ready to go. Any day now.  I was so overcome with a sense of joy for this couple I'd never met. I swear, if I didn't have these issues, I would sign up to be a surrogate just for the sake of this story. Not but a few days later did my husband come home and tell me about a confidential email which had circulated at work. At the last minute, the birth mother had decided to keep the baby. Unfortunately, not an altogether uncommon scenario. And how quickly I felt so angry, once again, for this couple I didn't know and had never met. To picture that man, having to take out the car seat. To picture the nursery they undoubtedly prepared for the baby's arrival. To picture their time off from work, filled with tears and embraces instead of a baby to kiss and cuddle. It was so heartbreaking. I share this story because I want it to be known that although I'm struggling with my own issues, I still realize how comparatively "lucky" it is to have them. I know what the two week roller-coaster feels like for those experiencing infertility. I know how devastating miscarriages can feel. I live in fear of still births and other complications. I know how hurtful it can feel for people to say things like, "think positive" and "I must be a fertile myrtle!", even though they're said with the best of intentions. My heart hurts for people experiencing any type of difficulty, because I know how hard it can be. How lonely and dark it can get. All of that doubt and the questions. Wondering how much harder it has to get before it gets any brighter. 

For anyone, experiencing any difficulty, I feel for you. Please know that you're not alone. There are a lot of people out there just like you. Some people choose to fight their battles in solitude. To keep their troubles close. And others, like myself, are willing to share, in the hope that just one other person feels less alone. I always thought that saying sounded so silly, but I know I've appreciated, beyond measure, those who have been bold enough to share their own stories of trouble and loss. 

Here's to hoping it helps you too.

The next steps, originally written December 19th, 2012.

See the disclaimer here.

December 19, 2012

I have my first appointment with a fertility specialist today. After the miscarriage, I insisted on visiting a gynecologist and was referred almost immediately to a specialist. And to be honest, I'm not quite sure how I feel about it. The rational part of me knows that this may lead to answers and explanations. The other side of me wants to scream at the doctors that I'm not infertile. I've been pregnant twice in the past year. How can you treat me for infertility if I'm able to get pregnant naturally? And do we really want to know what issues they may find? I don't need drugs to get pregnant so what will their recommendations be for the aspects which are possibly incurable? For the aspects of my husband and I that we're unable to change? What if this actually causes our doubt to increase?

I haven't started my period yet either. If you're still reading this blog than you should have been prepared for TMI. And believe me, in the realm of trying to conceive, this is nooooothing compared to some of the personal details often discussed and exchanged. In the past week, I've been feeling all kinds of symptoms and emotional ups and downs, very unlike the experience after my last miscarriage. But this miscarriage was different after all. This one, my body did naturally what it's supposed to do. So out of curiosity this morning, I googled what to expect after a miscarriage. It brought me to this website here: www.lovenaturalbirth.com . And from there, after reading the miscarriage section, I glanced over the trying to conceive area. I can't tell you the calm that washed over me. Experiencing these pregnancy issues, if you haven't had to do it, than you really have no idea. I'm sure like much in life. And it's the same reason I'm scared to ask a very pregnant lady questions about her pregnancy. I've never walked in her shoes. I don't know what questions become unbearable. And believe me, I'm sure there are comments that do. But this, this couple who experienced issues with conceiving, that I can relate. The idea that we're somehow in control of our own problems. How many times have friends or family members, with good intentions, instructed me to "be more positive" or "stress less." They're trying to comfort when there's nothing more to say. But oh! How frustrating. I feels as if they're really saying, "you brought this upon yourself. This is your fault because obviously you're doing x, y, and z wrong." So it was so relieving to hear this other couple, whom I've never met, experience similar issues. And the roller coaster they speak of. The first two weeks versus the last two in any given month. Oh! The frustration. The feeling of being two different people, depending on what time of the month it is. 10 years on birth control? Check. I've also been there and have wondered many times whether this has had some adverse impacts on my body. And their reference to Amankeda, not so dissimilar from my psychics who have also given me such hope. It's all had me thinking, maybe I happened upon this website for a reason. I haven't felt the urge to review any information online since my miscarriage. Why today? Why this morning? Right before my appointment. I don't believe anything in life is random. Maybe this is God's sign to me. One of my two favorite psychics (both of which I've only ever visited once) told me to let my intuition guide me. And don't even start about how vague of a statement this is and psychics are BSers etc. etc. or I will be forced to sit you down and share intimate details that are NOT so vague and have all resulted in true happenings. So ANYWAY, both psychics also made a point to tell me that my children will be healthy. It was something about the way they said it, too, as if they were trying to reassure me. I've also held that piece of information close. Even if there are issues with the pregnancy, things will be okay.

So this brings me back to my fertility appointment. I'm going to go. I'm curious. I'm open to the tests. I'm interested to hear what they have to say. But I'm not yet to the point of accepting any type of drugs. I'm only 28 years old for goodness sake. I'm getting ahead of myself. Maybe they won't recommend that at all.

But then, there's only one way to find out.

Another miscarriage, originally written November 29th, 2012.

See the disclaimer here.

November 29, 2012

I miscarried... again. I don't even want to talk about it so I'm not sure why I'm even bothering to type this to begin with. Maybe it's because I'm still holding onto the hope of one day being able to look back at this from a different situation.

This time it was more obvious. And painful. But unlike last time, where the overwhelming feeling was sadness, now I just feel anger. Anger at all of the people who never have to experience how awful this is. Anger at not knowing why it's happening. Should I have put myself on bed rest? Should I have exercised more? Is there a problem with one of us? Or both of us? No one is going to be able to provide me the answers either. It just is.

Maybe I should have known better. Sadly, I'll probably know better next time. Next time, there won't be champagne for my husband when he comes home. Next time, there won't be a small kite with bows and big cut out letters reading "Daddy" across our living room wall. Next time, there will just be a solemn and scared, "I'm pregnant". A person is only built with so much hope. If I have one more miscarriage, than I'll officially be deemed high risk. If this is some kind of test by God, it's really quite wicked. The one thing I've cared most about in my life, a family, now seems far away and unattainable. This pregnancy, like my last, felt like the light at the end of the tunnel. Without it, I feel reckless and lost. Should I go back to work now? But what if work demands force me to carry heavy boxes or open heavy doors? Is this a choice between work or family? What if working will pose a greater risk of miscarriage? It sounds silly, I know, but there are a few things I didn't share previously.

Remember that psychic I went to before moving to Ohio? Well, she shared a few tidbits of advice with me. One: I have a forward tilted uterus. Apparently. She recommended I try and "trick" the doctor into admitting it to me by informing him/her that I was told in the past I have one, and seeing if the doctor admits to it. Valerie informed me, because of this, I am at a higher risk of miscarriage. Once I reach month 4 I will be okay but before then I need to (insert her words exactly) pamper myself. No fixing curtains, pulling at bed sheets or yanking laundry from the washer or dryer. This is the time I should relax, presumably as I imagine, on the couch. Sound crazy? Well, maybe I would agree with you except that she also told me to eat tums twice a day because I have a buildup of acid. Oh, and she recommended certain, uh-hem, positions we try. She indicated that if I did all of that, I would likely be pregnant within 2 - 3 months. Well, guess what people? At exactly 2 months, I did get pregnant. After 8 months of trying, her tips appear to have worked.

So, what now?

Patience, originally written November 13th, 2012.

See the disclaimer here.

November 13, 2012

Inconclusive. That's what I'm stuck with for today and, in all likelihood, the next few agonizing days. There was that faint little line again, but I had been hoping, since this time around it was morning, for it to be a bit darker. Instead, it seemed disappointingly lighter. Did I drink too much water last night? Maybe the fact that I woke up at 2 am with the urge to crawl into the bathroom was a sign that I indeed had. Maybe I should have waited until morning, when I actually woke up, to take the test? Or maybe it's just an indication that the pregnancy didn't take. Even if that's the case, it still brings a little hope to my heart. It means that there was a little love union going on in my belly for a few days, just one that was only passing through temporarily. At least we're getting closer right? I did cave this month and purchase an ovulation kit. Those things. Tsk tsk. The price tag was a little higher than I'd care for and, in all honesty, the process seemed to confuse me more than anything. Always two lines? Now I'm squinting and staring, trying to decipher which may be darker than the other. Gee whiz kids. I know they've updated this technology since our parent's generation, but can't we get a little something better out there?! Anyway, maybe it helped. Maybe I really am pregnant. Or at least, I was for a few days, perhaps.

Patience. Patience. Patience.

This will undoubtedly be the longest week of my life. 

Could this be it?!?!?!?, originally written November 12th, 2012.

See the disclaimer here.

November 12, 2012

It's been awhile, hasn't it? Well, well, well. I might have news.

I've been feeling fairly normal. A little bit of headache, a little bit of food yuckiness... but that's pretty typical this time of the month. Then, the other day, I noticed that the button on my jeans was really bothering me. My stomach felt.. I don't know, sensitive? Still, I didn't get my hopes up.

Today, during my normal trip to the grocery store (ie. Walmart), I decided to purchase a few pee sticks. Eh, why not? It's supposed to be this week. But of course, I couldn't wait more than twenty minutes once I got home. I mean, what the hell? Maybe if I'm pregnant, it'll register early. And sadly, I know from past experience, even though there may only be one line, I still won't be convinced until a certain Aunt actually comes to visit. So, I prepared myself for disappointment and proceeded, with... you know.

The problem? Well, my bladder was feeling a little bit shy, so when I tried to take a closer look at the stick to see if anything had changed, well I kind of, accidentally, sort of dropped it on the floor. Damn. Only me, right? How does one even manage that? BUT the good news is that I swear there was a little bit of a pinkish second line. I swear! So, unless my bathroom floor is expecting, I think there may be a pretty good chance I might be pregnant!!!!

Exclamation points aside, I'm remaining unnaturally calm about this entire thing. I'm so excited at the possibility, that I'm actually being a little timid about taking a second test. If it's negative, it'll be so heart wrenching. Don't let me fool you. By tomorrow morning, I guarantee I will be unwrapping another pink present. I've been praying non-stop for a positive result. I've also been scouring pinterest for a cute way to announce this little miracle to my husband, should it be the real deal. Oh, and I've also already calculated my possible due date and looked to see what astrology sign said blessing will be considered. I mean, I am a Virgo after all.

I guess only time will tell.

Fingers (and toes) crossed!

Someday for another day, originally written August 18th, 2012.

See the disclaimer here.

August 18, 2012

I've given up. Well, actually, to state that correctly - I gave up. Awhile ago. I'm just now expressing my given-upness. I decided that my little sensitive self just couldn't take the crushing disappointment for one more month. So, it's official. We stopped trying. At least for now. The calendar has been turned over. And don't you worry, I'm evening keeping that little voice inside my head who's saying, "Oh, but this is when a lot of people do get pregnant. When they stop trying!" at bay. Let me be clear: I haven't stopped trying in a secret attempt to hopefully get pregnant. I'm throwing all thoughts of babies into the wind. Which is why, in part, it's taken me so long to write this post. 

I even treated myself to a spending spree, one that clearly did not involve stashing away money for a someday soon baby. And you know, so far, it's been kind of nice. All of that positive thinking, visualization, desperately hoping... it's so exhausting. Try as I might, I couldn't help that inevitable sadness which crept in month after month following our failure. I'm still young. I'm not 39 with one egg left. So I'm taking a little breather. It still creeps up on me sometimes, that craving for a baby. Or that confusion about why it hasn't happened. I've been keeping all of those worst-case-scenario fears away. 

I can't say that anything spectacular has happened this month. I've replaced hope with guilt over the amount of money I now owe back on my credit card. Instead of feeling excitement over the what-if's, I'm suddenly bored with life. Not quite single to the point of drinking on a week night and throwing caution to the wind but not yet stuck at home with husband and baby either. I'm lost to the middle ground. I haven't quite decided yet either where I want to take this in the future. Should we try harder? Or less? Should I invest in an ovulation mean machine or consult a fertility specialist? Has it even been a year yet? Jeez, when was the last time I even saw my gyno? 

The happy part about all of this is that for now, everything has stopped. No decisions need to be made. This month, I don't know when late will be. I don't know the exact day I should be ripping open the plastic on a pregnancy test. I'm back to life pre-trying. Life is a bit boring, sure, but it's not an emotional roller coaster either. So for now, I'm kicking back with a glass of wine and wondering whether or not I should rack up some more credit card debt by visiting my newly-discovered psychic neighbor. When that's your biggest decision, you know you're doing something right.

The perfect miracle, originally written August 6th, 2012.

See the disclaimer here.

August 6, 2012

I've never been so excited to feel nauseous in my life. It's an interesting phenomenon. In my head I'm all like, "Ohhh! Maybe I'm pregnant! But wait, maybe I just ate something which isn't agreeing with my stomach. Boo :/ But what if maybe I really am pregnant?" 3 more days. 3.more.days. Or else my body's just about to slap me with one hell of a period. Last month in particular, I recall a day somewhat like this. I was so sure. Headache, nausea, achy. You name it. Apparently, someone upstairs was just playing a cruel joke on me though. I can just hear him now...Surprise! I gotcha!!! Not cool man. Not cool. I do have a new theory though. One which I tell myself late at night when I'm having my conversations of thanks, dreams and questions. As a disclaimer, I should tell you that I don't consider myself to be particularly religious. I think I may have mentioned this before. I don't attend church every Sunday, so by default, I'm only religious in that distinctly lazy kind of way designated for people like myself. Nevertheless, I do have my beliefs and my late night conversations with the big guy. So recently, I've been soothing my irrational, inpatient mind with the thought that maybe God is taking his good ole time with my miracle, making sure to pick out someone extra special for this life. One night in a bar (woah, yeah.. switching gears a bit), over wine and good conversation, my co-worker turned friend and I were chatting about life & men, our two favorite topics. She found my perspective on life to be fascinating and made the comment that she thought someday I would have children who would end up revolutionizing the world somehow. It's one of those quirky comments that has always managed to stay with me. So yeah, I'm now convinced that God is taking his time picking out the perfect miracle for this world. It's a comforting thought... to me at least. I'm sure to you, it sounds a little like I'm a head case, but whatevs!

Marbles lost, originally written August 3rd, 2012.

See the disclaimer here.

 

August 3, 2012

Ok, it's official. I'm officially losing my marbles. In a moment of sheer boredom, I looked up my August horoscope and found this here little tidbit of information...

 

"Venus and Neptune will be in ideal sync on August 9, bringing a potentially highly romantic day. The moon will be in Taurus, so the moon will add her own sprinkles on top of your cupcake, making this an all-around happy day for love. Neptune has recently set up a 14-year stay in your house of established love partner, so with pretty, fun-loving Venus contacting Neptune in that house, if you are attached, you may have plenty to celebrate on this day. "

 

So, if a certain someone doesn't come to visit me on August 9th, I will be checking for a plus sign on a certain stick. Ironic that it falls on the same day? Hmm. Or maybe it was written in the stars. I am totally off my rocker at this point.

 

If all of my dreams and wishes happen to come true, I will be posting this. If not, I will promptly be deleting my loony tune thoughts pronto in embarrassment. So, I guess if you're reading this now, it's a good GOOD sign! :)

 

Two weeks, originally written July 31st, 2012.

See the disclaimer here.

July 31, 2012

The two week waiting game. Oh, it is ON! I was really tempted to finish that statement with, "like Donkey Kong" but I stopped myself short of cheesy. Although, now that I've written about my almost-intentions, I might as well have written it. I digress! So, this is secretly my favorite time of the month, mostly because I get to oh-so-secretly fantasize about what could be happening. I haven't quite decided whether this habit of mine is a good or bad thing. On one hand, they say that you shouldn't think about getting pregnant too much while you're trying to get pregnant (which, for the record, is impossible). On the other hand, I'm so excited about the what-if's that all of my thoughts are pleasantly positive, which is a good thing right? Positive. Positive. Positive.

We invited my sister and her fiance over this past weekend for some wine, Parcheesi (yes, it is my new fav) and dinner downtown. At the end of the night, when it was just her and I chatting on the guest bedroom bed, she confided in me that she has a feeling that I may get pregnant this month. I would have never before considered myself to be superstitious, seeing as I wholeheartedly appreciate logic, however I find myself oddly comforted by gut feelings, instincts and psychics alike.. so I'm going with it! I've actually had to avoid the urge to go visit my favorite lady in purple. My last experience with a palm reader wasn't very great, so I've been holding off. Anywaaaay, I guess getting my hopes up for two weeks makes it that much harder when they're dashed, which has been the trend for the past 3 months. I will count this as a point earned for me though in the mommy-to-be department because what type of person would I be if I weren't dreaming up the days when the pee stick will have two lines? Would it be better if I didn't care? If I didn't even give it a second thought? What type of careless person do you think I am?! See, positive. Positive. Positive.

I even avoided pepperoni on my pizza today. I can, after all, sacrifice for a week or two at the end of the month, you know... just in case :)

What if, originally written July 2012.

See the disclaimer here.

Oh my god. What if I have an entire year's worth of blog posts because it takes me that long to get pregnant?! And dear God, at what point am I even really allowed to start sharing these even when I am pregnant? Three months? After the birth? God help me.

No really, God, help me out here.

Babbling babies, originally written July 2012.

See the disclaimer here.

No date given.

I cried tonight. It was an ugly cry, as Emily Maynord calls it. I can't help it. I hate myself for it. It's probably not helping. But really, I can't help it. It's so frustrating to have one goal in your life, for all of your life, and then not be able to reach it. I tried gin and limonatas earlier, to distract my mind, but I think it may have made it worse. Now I'm awake, too late at night, pondering whether something's wrong with me. Maybe I should care less. Maybe if I wanted this less, it would happen. Maybe I'm not a good enough person. Maybe I need to pray more. Or maybe this is God's way of punishing me. Or testing me. Or testing my patience. I visited a few psychics there for awhile and one, the last one in fact, admonished me for not being patient. Literally. The psychic scolded me. It was such an uncomfortable experience that I vowed to avoid psychics for awhile. So far, it's worked. So maybe I just need to give it more time. No one tells you how difficult this process is. Oh sure, they tell you the teenage pregnancy horror stories or all about the surprises people never wanted. Those one night accidents. No one tells you about how hard it can be, even when you're young, and you actually want it to happen. How long you will have to wait and how exhausting the unsuccessful months are... and not just for you. My poor husband. It's not his body so he probably only vaguely understands. He has me under strict instructions to "take my notebook and make some tea" tonight. It's probably best this way. My pity party is tail spinning. I hope this has a happy ending, this story of mine. Even as I write this, I'm still hopeful. I still can't accept that it won't happen. The worst case scenario isn't even a possibility in my mind. So really, I'm a babbling baby because I'm frustrated. I. I. I. Maybe that's my problem. Maybe I'm being too selfish. Or maybe the relationship between my husband and I isn't as good as it's supposed to be. This is the problem. You question everything. And because no one talks about this, I have no answers. You can't ignore it. You can't pretend to not care when you do.

This is awful. And now, my tea kettle is screaming at me that it's time to go to bed. I'm sure you probably agree.

It hasn't been a good night, which is quite obvious, so I'll just wish you farewell. Hopefully tomorrow will bring sunnier days.

Wine + Wagons, originally written July 18th, 2012.

See the disclaimer here.

July 18, 2012

I'm smarter than I think. I kid. I kid. Well, sort of. But remember my slutty Snooki idea? I've been toying with this lifestyle for a week now, with admittedly mixed results. I may have just taken it a teensy bit too far the other weekend. No one should have to hold back your hair for you. Ever. Ah, but I digress. Two things are for sure: 1. I care less. This is freeing in and of itself. Where did worrying ever get me? 2. My wine consumption and, subsequently, liquor store bill have both increased dramatically. And why not? Doesn't this make the most perfect sense? If all goes according to plan, I will be of the sobriety kind for 9 months.That is a very, very long time for one to abstain from fun and fervor. And not to mention, a birdie once told me that life changes as you know it, forever, after that 9 (or, really, 10) months are over. So why not enjoy it now, while we still have the freedom?

Have you joined my wagon o' fun yet? If not, you need to jump on board...pronto!

Trying.. maybe too hard? Originally written July 12th, 2012.

See the disclaimer here.

July 12, 2012

I've adopted a new theory. Want to hear it? Oh, okay... great! I just knew you would. So this is how it goes:

Lets just say we throw out all of the ovulation calendars, the non-stop focus on nursery decor and the obsessive healthy eating. We'll keep that daily vitamin though. Oh yes, because after all, I do like my fingernails and hair strong and long (why does that sound so dirty?!). Yes, vitamins will stay. Now, let's focus instead on having fun. Remember those days? Way back when. Let's bring them back. The Thirsty Thursdays and the mornings where we took more than 20 minutes to get ready for our day. Let's throw clothing on the floor until we find the outfit that looks just right. Let's pretend every night is date night. And hey, let's drink in the shower, play loud music and stay up too late. Speaking of late, lets be late. And maybe even a little messy. Let's have those crazy, wild times without worrying about what time of the month it is. We'll be the spontaneous, sexy girlfriend again instead of the nagging, perfectionist wife we've unconsciously evolved into overnight. Let's hide the gardening gloves, cleaning supplies and those pesky little comments from hubby. They can be saved for a rainy day when he's not looking. And let us see what happens. Why not?! Hell, I've noticed a rather annoying trend over the course of my life. Doesn't it always seem like the Snooki-like gals are the ones always getting knocked up? Am I right or am I right? Never in a million years would I think that life lessons from a 4 foot Snook would be a good idea, but yes, it is true. That day has come. So, here my sweet friends, commences my 30 day trial. I've tried the other route of trying. It's exhausting. And honestly, a little depressing. Especially when you've tried so hard and done everything by the book all month long only to be rewarded with what? Oh yeah. That's right. Your now even-more-depressing period. So that's it. It ends here and now. I'm trying for fun and exciting instead. It's time to throw caution to the wind kids (sort of). Who knows? Maybe it'll even make life a little happier in the process.

My husband won't even know what hit him ;)