Monday, April 25, 2011


I am filled with wonder when I feel light, airy, alive these days. How, I wonder, could I have spent so long in the dark?

I know that we are at a crossroads. The doctor we will see next month may have answers; he may not. But truthfully, the fact that we have taken IVF - and all of its physical, emotional, and financial tolls - off the table is freeing. I have chosen my path; I wonder why it took so long.

I wonder at the gift of adoption; I don't think I can ever truly understand how strong a woman must be to place her baby in someone else's arms.

And yet, although I KNOW we are on the right path, I wonder if I'll ever truly be able to celebrate someone else's pregnancy. I wonder if the sight of a pregnant belly will always leave me breathless, fighting back tears. I wonder if I will ever finish mourning my babies, and the experiences I never got to have with them: the kicks, the flutter of a heartbeat on an ultrasound screen, that moment after birth of finding my husband's face in theirs.

I wonder.

Friday, April 22, 2011


This week’s list of the GOOD:

1. See previous post – I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off of my chest. I can breathe again. That desperate feeling is gone. I know that, even if my appointment next month is an Epic Fail, I have an option. An excellent option, which we had always planned to pursue even before the utesaurus reared her ugly head. To be honest, I sort of hope this doctor tells me my case is hopeless, because I am very close to ready to put this horrible chapter of my life behind me. (However, I have not rushed out to pursue any birth control options just yet. I’m not THAT ready. Even though work is still sucky, and I have a bit of anxiety/teariness while here, it’s not as bad as it was earlier in the week.

2. Acupuncture. I had my weekly session, and I think that has helped tremendously with my anxiety. It was like all of those tiny needles hit my reset button; I felt fabulously relaxed when I left. Oh, and my acupuncturist is just awesome. I told her about pregnant chick #2 in my office and she said, “Oh honey, you need to go find an office with all men. Gay men, if possible!” And then we laughed our asses off. I love her.

3. Two Kisses For Maddy by Matt Logelin – I’ve been reading his blog since Maddy was about 6 months old, and I was so excited to get the book. It did not disappoint: I laughed, I cried (sad and happy tears) and plowed through it in a couple of hours. Go Matt!

4. A productive day off – I went to acupuncture and then grocery shopping, I cleaned the house, got all of the laundry done, read a book, and had dinner waiting for Hubby when he got home. Productivity rocks!

5. Water for Elephants was one of my favorite books ever, and Sara Gruen ranks high on the list of authors whose books I devour, so I am SUPER excited to go see the movie tomorrow. Hubby and I are going to have a date night (after working on some long neglected projects around the house), which we rarely do, and have dinner at a nice recent first. Yay for date night!

And there you have it, folks. A rollercoaster of a week for sure, but it’s definitely ending on a high note. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend, and for those of you celebrating religious holidays, Happy Holidays!

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

quick change

I swear, if you read this blog regularly you probably think I'm bipolar. This rollercoaster is so damned ridiculous.

After my last post , you might have thought that I had a really shitty day today (pun intended). It certainly started out that way. But then Hubby and I had a text conversation that put a smile on my face all day long.

To make a long story short: we've been having issues with our car for a while now, but since it is paid off we haven't really sought a replacement. Recently we made the decision to take out a 401k loan so that we can trade in our car, get something better, do some home renovations, etc. We got the check yesterday.

But then a strange thing happened - the thought of having that much scratch in our bank account left my mind on only one thing, and it wasn't a car: baby. It seems that my incredible Hubby was on the same wavelength too.

So here's the deal: the money is going to stay put until after our appointment with the NY doctor next month. If all seems hopeless, we're going to start the adoption process. For real this time, since we actually have a large chunk (though not all) of what we'll need. We figure we can save the rest and somehow make it happen. Regardless of how that appointment goes, we'll be on our way to parenthood shortly after.


I am so excited to have something to hope for, to look forward to. Of course, it would be wonderful if we could conceive on our own and then use that money for a new car, a nursery, yadda yadda. But I'll drive that thing until it's a rusted hunk of tin powered Flintstone style if it means I get to be a mommy.
Me, a mommy. Him, a daddy. A family. It almost seems within reach.

Of course, now that I've put this out there, the universe will find some kind of way to fuck everything up, some ridiculous catastrophe that I cannot even begin to imagine. Oh well - at least I've got some of my fight back, along with my smile.

Hope lives.

and so it begins

I started crying 3 blocks from the office, and haven't managed to stop much since.
Oh, and in my no sleep having haze this morning, I grabbed my normal breakfast of greek yogurt. And yep, my intestines revolted, which makes me even more sad.
Am I crying because I can't have babies? Or dairy? I'm not so sure right now.
Sigh. Just gotta make it till 4pm, and then I have tomorrow off. Send me all of your dry eyed strength vibes, if you can.
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I just really hate my life.

I have to work tomorrow (actually, in 5 hours) and I can't sleep. My anxiety level is off the charts right now.

Worse yet, I think I might have become lactose intolerant. (Is it possible to become lactose intolerant after a lifetime love affair with dairy? I'll have to consult Dr. Google...) Today I reached for my favorite foods in an effort to eat my feelings, my favorite foods being cheese and ice cream (not together - that would be weird. Or maybe delicious). And my stomach has been royally fucked up all day. When I tucked into my bowl of Peanut Butter Panic <3 I could literally feel my whole digestive tract protest the first bite, and I've been becoming very well acquainted with my bathroom since.

Of course, I finished the whole bowl in between dashes to the crapper. I don't waste ice cream. That would be silly.

And I have to ask the universe, are you fucking serious?

Please don't take ice cream from me too. And cheese. You've already taken my babies, my dog, bread, pasta, my self esteem, running (for the moment, anyway), my sanity, hope.

Let me keep the fucking ice cream, ya bastard.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

no writer could come up with this stuff.... (and post 200!)

In honor of my 200th post, I wanted to let you all know about a project I am participating in.

Kerri at Uncommon Nonsense is putting together an anthology of sorts, a collection of our stories. A collection of our heartbreaks and horrors and triumphs and survival. The ALI blogosphere has been such a wonderful source of sanity and support for me, and I'm sure for some of you too, but not all infertiles or BLM know we're here.

Kerri says "The goal of all this: I want to gather together a variety of personal stories from the blogosphere, and hopefully publish them - making them available to couples outside of our Blogger community. I want to make your stories heard, and to give other infertile families a chance to learn from our community and to find support in it. Each of our stories has the ability to connect with at least one person, somewhere out there, and to make them feel just a little less alone as they journey through this difficult time in their lives."

You can participate anonymously, or not. Your story can be long or short. But I urge you to check out Kerri's post and let your voice reach someone who might really need to hear it. One of the few things that has kept me sane is this blog, and the people who comment or email to let me know that my writing makes them feel less alone. It makes this whole craptastic journey seem like less of a waste, you know?

Monday, April 18, 2011

it's a 3 post kind of day

I need to write to process what I am feeling right now. It's the only way I know how.

Discouraged. Fearful. Wounded. Disappointed in  myself.

How can I literally go from feeling good and optimistic about life to..... this horrible low in just a few hours, triggered by just a few words?

This familiar place, with all the scabs ripped off of my oozing soul and all hope drained away - I don't want to be here anymore. I don't want the journey to this place to happen in a flash.

I've climbed the walls out of this dark place so many times, inching my way back into the light. So arduous, every time. I thought the situation with the Belly was a real breakthrough for me. And then a few words from my coworker - "I'm pregnant. About four weeks."

That's all it took to erase weeks of hard work, of willing myself to live life, to love life no matter what.

Why does SHE get to have this, when she never wanted kids? How can she even think of telling people this early, as if it's guaranteed that nothing will go wrong? (But of course it won't, because I've been taking the statistical bullet for everyone I know since 2006). Whose cruel joke am I the butt of? Why can't I just be fucking happy for her?

The truth of it is that I am tired of clawing my way back from here. I am scared that my whole life will be a series of horrible downs followed by a long fight back to a brief reprieve in the light. That I will hide from pregnancies and babies forever, the reminders of what I cannot have, and become some sort of reclusive freak.

I'm just tired. I'm running out of fight. I hate that my soul is so easily shattered. I hate crying in the bathroom at work, and watching my funny, gregarious, friendly and loving parts die a slow death.

I don't know what to do.

the universe can suck it

Ok, so you can scratch work going well off of my list.

Another coworker is pregnant. One who doesn't like kids, never wanted any.

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The belated TGIMFF #2 post

Last week's list of the GOOD:

1. I just finished reading The Hunger Games trilogy. Oh my – it’s been a long time since I’ve been so transported by a book. It reminded me of when I was a kid, and things weren’t so great at home, and how I’d walk to the library (by myself! At 8 years old! In NYC!), grab a great big armful of books, haul them home and lose myself in the surety that there was a world outside of my own private misery. These books had the same effect, and I pretty much wore out the battery in my Kindle light laying in bed, listening to my husband’s soft snores and losing my own sadness in the story. It kind of makes me want to start working on the fiction project that I’ve been up and down about over the years.

2. I injured my foot last weekend, and we were all pretty sure that it was a stress fracture, and that I’d be out of the running for the 20k I signed up for. Thankfully, with rest and a styling special shoe, it feels much better and I should be back to training in a week or so. I cannot wait – I am so antsy to go for a run! I guess I’m addicted to that runner’s high.

3. Work is going okay – I think my boss is so scared that I’ll leave because of the growing, pulsating Belly he’ll pretty much give me anything I want. New fax machine (that we’ve been asking for for YEARS!) – done. Laminating machine to make my life easier – done. A new radio because the one we had sucked and could barely get anything but static – done. I need to figure out what else I want before my review 

4. The Belly. I think, as painful as working with her is, as much as her fullness illuminates my flatness, as much as her talk of her growing boy makes me long for my lost Ocho, and all that came before him – I think this will be good for me, in the long run. I have contact with a pregnant woman, due just weeks after my Ocho should have been, and yes I cry in the bathroom sometimes, but it hasn’t killed me. If I can live through this, and all that is to come with the birth and baby talk and all of it, I can survive anything. I’m proud of myself for being able to like her, to smile at her and chat with her like I am just a normal person (even if I sometimes have to cover up the swell in my eyes with a well timed sneeze). I am a survivor.

Side note: So, since I haven’t been able to work out as hard core as I’d like, I let my super healthy lifestyle slide for a bit…… and got a bit stinking drunk on Saturday. We had some friends over, and were having a good time acting like morons, until I slipped on the straps to my aforementioned styling shoe, and took a header into the wall. I think I knocked myself out for a moment, and now I have a giant fat bruised lip, a swollen bruised nose, and a giant painful bruise on my back from hitting something when I landed. Hubby’s been calling me Rocky since then.
Lesson learned. Alcohol is bad. Alcohol when you are gimpy and acting like a fool and there are walls everywhere is really bad. I’m on hiatus again. At least until the next miscarriage 

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

the weight of it all

So, as I mentioned in my inaugural TGIMFF post, I have an appointment in May with a specialist in NY. This doctor was the first to perform IVF in New York, and now mostly encourages more conservative fertility treatments. He believes that IVF is necessary for some, but way over recommended, and that there are other methods to bring a woman's body into balance. His specialty is - get this - RPL! At worst, his methods could prepare me to be in the best physical condition possible for IVF, if it comes to that.

For a few weeks now, I've been collecting my medical records from the various doctors I've seen since this whole nightmare began just over 5 years ago. I had all of the records sent to me so that I could keep a copy for myself, because I like the self abuse involved in reading through all of them. Anyway, after 8 failed pregnancies I have quite the stack of records. Several trees died to make that happen. (Great. Now I feel guilty for killing trees and babies).

And you know, it's all been weighing on me a bit. This doctor is kind of my last hope for a successful pregnancy. I don't think I have much more trying left in me, unless we can find something else to fix. I'm starting to feel Einsteinially insane, in the whole "doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results" kind of way. I want to hope, but I'm afraid to all at the same time.

Anyway, I mailed out the packet at the post office substation in the grocery store across the street from my office. I'm in there a lot, and the workers can be VERY nosy. "Oh, an avocado? I like them but I can't get my husband to eat them..... Oh, a pregnancy test! Which outcome do you want?" And so on.

So of course today, the clerk asked "What the heck is in here? It's so heavy!" My heart trembled because I wanted to tell her off, to let her know that she was holding the weight of eight dead babies in her hands, the weight of a million shattered dreams and more tears than can be counted, but instead I gave her a warning look. She persisted, so I answered "Medical records." "Oh," she said. "Why are you sending your medical records to New York?"

(She read the label, which clearly indicated a fertility clinic, but wanted to grill me anyway.)

So I answered "None of your fucking business" and gave her a sweet smile as I paid.

Fuck nosy people. If you can't help me shoulder this load, you don't deserve a peephole into my heart and all of the weight it's been crushed by. (Present company excluded, of course!)

Friday, April 8, 2011


Thanks so much to all who commented, emailed or fb'd me after my last couple of posts. Your kindness, love and concern mean the world to me. Seriously.

I know that this shit I'm going through right now isn't going to get much better anytime soon. I have been able, ever since my first miscarriage, to generally avoid or limit contact/interaction with preggos. This coworker situation is really tough for me to deal with, and she's not due for 3 more months (and I really cannot imagine how big she'll be at that point, since she's pretty much a belly with arms, legs and a head right now). Between now and then, I anticipate getting rocked by: Mother's Day, Father's Day, our anniversary, Ocho's due date, other missed due dates, family events with our new niece, etc. And every day, I'll be looking at her and picturing an alternate universe, where my baby didn't die and we could be preggo friends. Every time she mentions getting the baby's room ready, or ultrasounds, or childbirth class, I'll be wishing..... well, you all know what I'll be wishing for. I wish I could hate her but she's too frakking sweet. Sigh.

Anywho, in an effort to keep myself from succumbing to the madness - and to keep this blog from becoming too fucking morose, I plan to post each Friday about the GOOD. You all know the bad and the ugly, better than I would like.

And so, without further ado, here is my first Thank God it's Motherfucking Friday (TGIMFF) list of the good.

1. You know that book I'm so wild about? Well, I managed to score an appointment with the doctor who wrote it during my trip to visit family in NY in May. It'll cost a fortune, and I'm totally afraid to hope that anything good, any answers will come of it. I've been so convinced lately that there is no chance for us that I've pushed the appointment out of my mind, but it has the potential to be life changing.

2. Speaking of that book, I am still - for the most part - following the program. I go to acupuncture weekly. I have severely limited my intake of sugar, flour, caffeine and alcohol, and increased the amount and variety of produce I eat. I take royal jelly, fish oil, folic acid, aspirin, a multivitamin and vitex daily, and chug red raspberry leaf tea. I exercise regularly. I meditate and practice self massage. I have noticed changes in my period (no cramps! none! they used to cripple me) and hope this means good things are happening inside.

3. My regimen has helped me lose around 20 pounds in less than two months. I'd like to lose about 10 more, but I've been called "tiny" twice in the last week so I'm pretty happy. Also, today I wore jeans that I couldn't even pull up over my fat ass two months ago, and they were falling off of me. Literally. WINNING!

4. Ahhh, acupuncture. I fucking love it, and my acupuncturist. I'd go three times a week if I could afford it, but I do have all of those vegetables and shit to pay for now.

5. I am running a 20k in June (right around when Ocho would have been due) and Hubby has agreed to run it with me! The race itself will be a hella good time (I know the non-runners reading this think that's a damn lie, but it's true) plus I get to go all drill sergeant and train my man for the next two months. I like making him puke :)

6. I still love my tattoo, so much. I think it's beautiful, and I've noticed that when I am having a rough moment, looking at it, touching it, and remembering my lost babes is soothing. Surprisingly, I have not gotten any negative feedback for having such a large piece on my arm - people either love it or don't say anything, which is cool by me. I don't really give a fuck if anyone thinks it's distasteful, though - soon, the whole arm will be covered and I'll be a happy little freak.

7. A coworker (and NOT the one I would have expected it from - this girl is unmarried and doesn't have/want kids, or even particularly like them) pulled me aside on Tuesday. "Hey," she said. "I have to ask you a sensitive question and I hope it doesn't upset you." Ummm, okay. "We want to throw a baby shower for The Belly and I thought you might prefer if we did it while you're out of town." I definitely teared up at her thoughtfulness, because hell no I won't go to a baby shower. She saved me from some serious awkwardness.

8. We had dinner with Hubby's grandpa and step-grandma. They are such a cute couple, and it was really nice to spend time with them.

Okay, so I think that's it for this week. I hope next week's list is just as long, and that you all have a wonderful weekend. I will be doing battle with my backyard without the benefit of cocktails. One of us will emerge victorious. I hope it's me.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011


I used to have dreams, big dreams.

I thought I would do great things, have a great career, be a wondermom to a gaggle of kids.

As I got older, I consciously made life choices to make that wondermom fantasy a reality: I chose not to go to medical school or veterinary school because I wanted to be able to stay home with my kids and not have loads of student loan debt. I chose to give up my teaching career and move halfway across the country because I wanted Hubby and I to be able to afford a house on one income. I left my family, my friends behind to chase a dream. It seemed so within reach, so inevitable.

I was so fucking naive.

Now, my biggest dream is to learn how to live like a normal person, in a world with real live babies and pregnant coworkers with huge bellies that seem to have their own gravitational pull (seriously - she bumps into me with that thing every. single. day). I dream of not crying in the bathroom at work, of not putting up these walls that close me off into my own little world of pain and sadness. I dream of learning to live childless.

I dream of not wanting to beat the fuck out of people who still think it's okay to make fun of, stigmatize and marginalize the infertile. Oh yeah, fuck you, PETA.

It seems so hopeless. I don't mean the actually getting pregnant and staying that way long enough to have a baby. That dream is dead. The living part, that's what I'm struggling with. I don't think I can do it.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011


In the bathroom at work, crying because my period is about to arrive and so is my coworker with her huge belly. I should have that. Fuck. I hate my life.
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