Wednesday, March 31, 2010

groundhog day

I want to say goodbye to this ache that haunts me. I want to say goodbye to these four long disastrous years and be someone else - or, more accurately, the "before" me.

I want to smile with my soul, like I did before.
I want to celebrate the babies that other people have, like I did before.
I want to imagine a future filled with laughter and joy, like I did before.
I want to walk into a room with a pregnant woman and not have a panic attack, like I did before.
I want my eyes to stay dry, like they did before.

Hubby and I had a long talk last night, the kind where all sorts of shit gets aired out and tears are cried and we stay up way too fucking late because we can't turn off the verbal diarrhea. Among other things, he asked me if I could ever imagine myself not being haunted by our losses and my fading dream of motherhood. And I said the words I NEVER thought I'd have to say: I can't start to heal until we stop trying.

It's true. I hate it for being true, but it's true. Every time I start to heal emotionally from a miscarriage, I end up pregnant and going through it all all over again. Like fucking groundhog day. And now the calendar destroys me, because every month is something - a would be birthday. A loss anniversary. A pregnancy anniversary. Mother's Day. Father's Day. A veritable minefield.

I don't think I want to stop trying, yet. But it's different now. I've always believed in my heart that somehow I'd end up pregnant with a baby that didn't die. Now, I just don't know. I doubt it will happen, and I doubt I can ever forgive my body for failing us. It's like that last little innocent, naive part of me - the part that got excited about a positive hpt, the part that could still remember the excitement that our first pregnancy brought us - is finally dead.

How do you know when to walk away from a dream? When do you walk away from everything you've ever wanted? How do you know when you're crossing the line that separates "trying everything I can" from "destroying everything I am?"

Tuesday, March 30, 2010


The numbers: day 21 progesterone = 18. Prolactin = 28. My doctor was happy with both, as the first indicates that I ovulated, the second indicates that what I refer to as my "coma pill" is working. But, but, but. The progesterone probably indicates that I am not pregnant. The prolactin is down, but still not normal. Good news, but not so good news - the story of my life.

I've blogged a lot lately about the general upswing that I have been on. And it is certainly true - for the most part, I've been less consumed by sadness. But the truth of it, dear readers, is something that I am just starting to unravel. The truth of it is that I've simply gotten better at squashing those bad feelings down, like snotty crumpled tissues in the bottom of my purse. Just because I choose not to acknowledge them (does that make me gross?) does not mean they have ceased to exist. There are still an embarassing number of snotty tissues in my purse. I am still sad. Sometimes, overwhelmingly so. And sometimes, life just goes on, and I laugh, and love, and cook.

As much as I despise how the people in my life choose not to acknowledge the trauma and grief that have defined me, I am also grateful to them - the ignorance of others is my bliss. For the three and a half years that I have had my job, I've been blessed to be surrounded by the ignorant. No one at work wants to talk about pregnancy loss and infertility (even on those rare occassions when I do) because it is so outside of their frames of reference. They don't have kids. They don't want to get pregnant, or have babies, and they probably think that I am insane for trying as long as I have. Even in my darkest moments, when at best my life could be classified as "merely existing," I had my job as my refuge. It's not glamorous - most jobs that involve animals and their various bodily excretions aren't - but it's fulfilling and has served me well as an escape.

That's all over now though. My friend A is besties with another friend, M, who also happens to be a client at our clinic. M is due any minute (or, as her husband told mine yesterday, "Any fucking day now, man. Any. fucking. day.") And somehow, the baby shunning women I work with have all turned gaga. People walk into work and, before they have even clocked in, check with A to see how M is. Every conversation turns back to the baby. Discussions of names, breastfeeding, labor - I overhear bits and pieces of them all, but of course only bits and pieces, because when I walk into the room, the baby talk stops. My refuge has vanished as surely as the shimmering illusion of a desert oasis. It sucks donkey balls, and I am left feeling as awkward and out of place in my work life as I do when surrounded by fertiles in my non-work life.

Sigh. To top it off, we have a lunch meeting coming up with one of our sales reps who - wait for it, wait for it - also happens to be hugely pregnant. I'll have to sit for an hour, pretending to listen to her lecture, wearing my "attentive" face, while all the while I'll be staring at her pregnant belly and hating myself for my failures, and the misery I've brought into my husband's life.

The gal who wrote a post that is so beautiful, and unnerving, that it brought tears to my eyes. It's about accepting the childless life after years of trying to conceive, and suffering loss after loss. She is struggling, and I wonder if I'll struggle too when we finally decide that our time of trying is over. I struggle now.

Thursday, March 25, 2010


I was up.

I am now down.

Such is the rollercoaster life of a recurrent pregnancy loss survivor, I suppose. Just as I was basking in the light, the darkness swallowed me. Endless cycles of grief, of hope, of happiness and sadness, triggered by life. That’s all – nothing traumatic or horrific or overtly sad has happened. Simply life.

Or to be more specific, other people’s lives.

It seems my friends are having a baby boom. I log onto FB and am bombarded with proof that for other people, reproduction just sort of happens. I need to take a FB break, I think. It is too much. I feel marked as different, the only one of a large group of people without belly pictures and baby pictures posted to my wall. I have been contemplating letting my IF/loss rage out onto FB, but I waver. You see, I have not come out of the IF/loss closet to many of these folks. I am almost at the point where I just don’t care – this is my life, this is what I live with every day, and to present myself as someone else seems dishonest and fake, two things I despise – but I just don’t know.

It feels whiny and self centered just to say it, but I hate reading all of the messages of support posted on new parents’ walls. All of the congratulations and well wishes, they make me sick. Yes, it is someone’s happiest day. But what about me, what about all of us living in this hell? Who supports us? A new baby changes a parent’s life forever, for sure. A lost baby does the same, but at the other end of the spectrum – the sadness and despair side. And whereas other people – friends, coworkers, acquaintances - rally around the happiness, they shun the sadness and despair like it’s contagious.


I’m now in the two week wait. The hope is draining out of me, exsanguinating my soul. Tuesday, I go in for a day 21 progesterone check and a prolactin recheck. The last time I had my day 21 progesterone tested, I was pregnant. Of course, I soon miscarried. As usual. I’m sort of on pins and needles about it for no clear reason.

Thanks for reading my whine.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

just for laughs....

and I really don't mean to offend any readers who happen to be pregnant. I had an encounter with a belly-rubber today, and Hubby showed me this to make me laugh.

Hope you enjoy it.


Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Well hello there!

It's been a while, for sure.

I've had limited internet access at home lately, and have been too busy at work to do much blog reading/writing.

What have I been up to? Why, thanks for asking!

Cycle #1 on femara was a fail. We are currently 9 days into femara cycle 2. I have my fingers crossed. I'm not really sure if it's the change of seasons or what but I have been feeling really hopeful lately. We'll see.

The rest of my life has been rocky lately as well: friends are popping out kids like crazy. I invited my MIL to go to the RESOLVE conference with me and she declined, so, since I had no one to travel with, I passed. I'll definitely be going next year though. My basement flooded, and as I was using the shop vac to dry it out, the power went out. My home computer died. My dog got sick. Hubby left on a work trip the same day that bitch Aunt Flo arrived. I found out we owe the IRS several thousand dollars, so all of the home projects we were planning on using a tax refund for are on hold (meaning we are living with a demolished upstairs bathroom). And so on. The crap never stops.

I've been holding it together fairly well, considering. I really credit the regular exercise I've been getting for my mood stability, but it could be more than that. Perspective is everything. I mean, I have a home, and food to eat. What more could I ask for (besides a baby)? There are so many who are worse off.

I'm not minimizing what I've been through. I still grieve for my babies - every. single. day - and the life I thought I'd get to live. The difference is this: for a long time our fertility struggles felt like a new pair of shoes that left horrid blisters on my soul, and now they're worn in and comfy. It is what it is, you know? I'm doing what I can, and the rest is up to fate and medical professionals. The despair is gone, and I couldn't be happier to see it go.

On the bright side, my cousin has offered for the fourth or fifth time to be a surrogate for us. I'm not at that point yet, and I've not done any sort of research on what it would entail (especially because she lives in NYC and we're in the midwest), but it's an option. Options are good.

I hope that all of you have been well. I should be posting more (and hopefully more thoughtful posts than this) and commenting more now that I have internet access at home again.

Life is good.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

anyone going....

to the Resolve conference in Minneapolis on Saturday, March 13?

I really want to go, but Hubby will be out of town that weekend and I don't really know who else to ask.

So, if you're planning on going, let me know - maybe we can meet up. I'd love to have an ally there.