Friends, Food, & a Baby

We just had the best kind of evening. My best friends from the olden days came over with their wives and baby and we ate. That's really all I ask out of life: good company, good friends, good food, and healthy babies. Not much. It was the first time I've seen these two boys together in, oh, seven years - since graduating from high school. Thankfully, we are all friends outside of any threesome that was created, and have so remained. I'm thinking that I got lucky because I count their wives among my friends too. Anyway, we had a wonderful evening as we laughed, talked, reminisced like old friends do. I hope that we realized that it has been far too long.

Ever sensitive about the passing of time changing people, I had to notice how we have all, in our own ways, finally become adults. We are at peace with being mature (most of the time) and responsible. We are a different kind of friends that have expanded our friendships so that they include the mates we have chosen. And of the little baby, we all adore him because he is a part of T & K, whom we also adore. We are those people that get married young, settle down, work hard, and expect joy out of life. It is a wonderful group of people to be a part of and I cherish the friendships that I had with T & E, and now the ones developing with K & R.

Goal Outside both Grasp and Reach

Can you at least tell when I started it that I had no intention of writing an infertility blog? Sure you can; I was pregnant at the onset of all of this. Which means that the beginning was the first of many experiences in deception. Because, two years ago, there we were, stressed out (freaked out), but pregnant. And everything was going to be okay. Then it wasn't. Everyone said that they knew someone who had miscarried, which they have due to the common occurrence of it, who had then gotten pregnant two weeks later, two months later, and a longer amount of time was never mentioned. Two years later, anyone?

I know those bloggers that detail each cycle from the moment they stopped BC and started TTC. I haven't done that because it would depress me. However, I know that we have racked up six clomid cycles in a year and one failed IUI. On to IUI #2. I never thought I would see that acronym on my blog. Is a girl allowed a small amount of time to worry yet? When additional measures have been taken repeatedly and failed, my crazy optimism regarding WHEN we will be pregnant and have children starts to slide into the dangerous realm of IF. *Not IF: infertility, after all, we are already there; IF: if we are going to be pregnant and have children.

I took some me time yesterday to absorb the negative result and will call the clinic on Tuesday to let them know that we would like to do a second IUI this next cycle. I am doing better today. I really just feel so out of control and powerless. I can't control this at all. Nothing we do makes any difference at all. I don't know what else to do. I don't know how to help our chances. And I definitely don't know how to keep my mouth shut, so please don't be too disappointed with the outcome all you supportive hopefuls; I really appreciated every kind encouraging word and I think that they made this cycle a little bit easier.

The Wonderful C

In long overdue fashion, I present the creator of my fabulous sperm (which will someday result in offspring), mister C. He is my husband, my friend, my provider, my sex god (think On the Bright Side, I'm Now the Girlfriend of a Sex God), father of my puppies, future father of my children, and all-around great guy (don't lie, I know some of you have climbed in his lap to share a few thoughts with him while drinking - I won't name any names . . .). This is a man I get angry with a lot. I start fights with him. I call him out on projects he doesn't finish, how he spends his time, where he spends his money, and whether or not he loves me and needs to trade me in for a breastier, functioning model. I am neurotic, mind you. After seven years together, almost four married, I adore this man. He gets a little creeped out when I sit there and just stare at him. For me, his face represents all kindness, strength, gentleness, and love to me and I just love to look at him. It's been a while now, and there is an ebb and flow to the adoration, but what surprises me is the passion. I'm either so very deep in love or so incredibly angry at the man, and rarely spend any time in the in between. We are just not mediocre.

All of these things I write about, experiences, procedures, feelings, are everything C has to deal with on a daily basis. He has to deal with me. He deserves a medal (some high school friends of mine have insinuated as much). He has held my hand and my head up through a failed pregnancy, miscarriage, D&C, charting, doctor's appointments with no answers, how many cycles of the magic white pills (which, if I have not mentioned, make me crazy and prone to hot flashes), and he's now provided his, uh, contribution (really, the best sounding word I have found so far) in a sterile container TWICE. More to come possibly. He tells me the truth and somehow he sees me in a different way than anyone else does. He still loves me and still holds my hand. We both realize that what we've been through could have created an unbridgeable valley between us. I'm not saying it has been easy - it hasn't. But I'm not sure how I would have survived any of this without him. He is my rock.

Before I went and blabbed on here about all these procedures we were doing, I made sure that C didn't feel emasculated. That he was okay with me sharing. I asked whether or not he wanted to keep the IUI secretive and he said that he didn't care so long as this procedure increased our chances for getting a baby. I've never wondered about whether C wanted children or if I was just talking him into them. He wants this just as badly as I do. He's much less selfish because I know he watches me crumble sometimes and that he wants this for me just as much as he wants it for himself. I think we know that we will be okay if we are not blessed with children; that it will change everything and we will have to make some really big decisions together. I do have to remind him how important all of this stuff is to me, but I know he's always in it with me. I am not alone.

I think I have mentioned before, and it bears repeating, that C was the catalyst in my life that completely changed my mind about having children. As soon as it became serious, all I was one-hundred percent sure that I wanted to have his babies. That is one of the difficult parts that has evolved. I now understand that any child could be our child and that family building is accomplished in so many different ways. I still really want to make babies with the man I love, but you see, I think we are strong enough that we could create a family any way we chose. My God, I love this man and I cannot believe that he's sticking it out just to be with me.

Retracting Bitterness

Please forgive my pettiness. I can explain why I react the way I do, but it does not excuse me writing hurtful things after perceived hurts. Does that make any sense? I did not mean to hurt any one's feelings or drag anyone out on display for blatant insensitivity. What happens, is that somehow I collect these things people say. They may not realize they have said anything hurtful, but somewhere within me it registers. And when it gets to be too much, I feel the need to expel it and well, the result is the post below. Here is the thing though, 90% of the people who have ever said any of these things are actually trying to help in a strange way. They are trying to make my difficulty having children relatable, or even fixable. Some love me so much that they try and understand the steps we are taking and how we feel about them. So, I am sort of back-pedalling and sort of calling out take-backs and kind of justifying what I wrote all at the same time.

For those of you that love me so much that you are afraid of hurting me: thank you for caring so much. No, you don't have to be so careful because I know your heart and that your intentions are pure. If and when you have ever said something hurtful, I have felt hurt, let it go, and reminded myself that I should be extra careful not to say something insensitive to you. Which I do all the time and I am so very sorry. My mouth can run away and it is something that I am working on. For those of you like this, I cherish your encouragement and the hope you hold for me so very much. I appreciate you. I am so sorry if I left you feeling attacked. So I couldn't just leave it at that. Because I love you too.

Frustrated Anger Ball? Sometimes.

I am a grown up, so I went to my eye doctor appointment today. See, I made the appointment because I can’t focus on faces at a distance (or the tv, or street signs) and it was getting both annoying and a little creepy. Sure enough, I need glasses. Not to advertise infertility at all, I mentioned the little white pills only because the paper that comes with them notes that one side effect could be blurred vision. Interesting, the doctor said. He googled “little white pills,” found them, and agreed with me that since the effects are rather temporary (even the intended effect of ovulation) that so should any vision impairment be temporary. But, since I had noted earlier that I had completely passed my driver’s license eye exam two or three years ago and then my vision seemed to get worse, he was a little curious. The google search turned up some very specific information about blurred vision on specific cycle days in relation to taking the little white pills and that regular vision should be restored within three days of stopping the pills. Since I had attempted to avoid any awkwardness by stating, “what about the little white pills I take for infertility?” I had thought that perhaps the doctor wouldn’t comment, or at least not comment rudely. He didn’t. He asked me if it was frustrating. And it is. The diagnosis (official or unofficial) of what I can only hope is subfertility, the whole trying and trying and trying to get pregnant through any and all means part, and watching babies, children, and pregnancy come so easily to others. It is frustrating. Thanks for asking.

I think I have received some flack lately in regard to my comments about how easy it is for some people. I know that life is not truly easy for anyone, but what I am actually commenting on are those couples that find the hardest six months of their lives the ones that they were trying to get pregnant. Seriously. Those that feel the need to share with me that they know exactly how I feel because it took them a long time to get pregnant too (four months c’mon!) irritate me. But I have found that there is nothing I can say to shock them out of this way of thinking. Even little comments like “Try two years . . .” (which I realize is still only a drop in the bucket for some who have been on this road far longer than I) don’t work. Some people just need to face that for them, getting pregnant was easy, for them, carrying a baby to term was easy. I mean easy in that THEY DID IT JUST FINE. They never had to wonder about how they were going to get pregnant, whether there was a problem, how much money it would take, and hell, whether it was a fixable problem. Sure they were concerned about miscarriage and other assorted tragedies happening to baby in the womb, but nothing did, and quite frankly, that means that life for them is still very much charmed. They may, sort of, understand what it is that I think, wonder, and am forced to face on a daily basis, if perhaps a very close friend or relative is experiencing something similar. But unless it happens to you (and God forbid it ever does – I wish this mental state on no one), and please mark my words, you will never know. You will never wonder about your legacy the way that I worry about mine and you will never know what it is like to lose a baby or the large majority of your hope. This is probably coming from an ugly place, possibly a very jealous place. I would give a hell of a lot to gain the charm and hopefulness back. Just don’t argue with me about your experience being easy unless you have a real tragedy to bring to the table. Especially if you are currently in a place where you could reach out a touch your child, or walk into the next room and kiss them.

So do not, under any circumstances, tell me:

“You have no idea what it’s like to have kids – just wait.” I can’t even address this civilly, so I won’t try.

“You are so young; you have plenty of time.”

“My husband can get me pregnant by walking into the same room I am in.”

“Want some help?” An offer that comes from a male. Completely undermining my relationship, husband, and knowledge about procreation (really, you have to stick it in to do that?).

“When are you guys going to have kids?”

“What’s wrong with you (or your husband)?” None of your business.

“You can have (borrow) mine.” In reference to their kids. I don’t know how to say this politely, so – I don’t want your kids. And when you think they are acting up or being disagreeable, try to imagine not having them and the huge empty hole that leaves in your life. Then try to not be so eager to “give” them away.

There are so many more, but those are the ideas that are bothering me a lot right now. I also wanted to reiterate that what we are doing with the pills, shots, sonograms, and IUI are great. They are providing us with a boost to our chances. But, they are far from a guarantee of anything (except the hundreds of dollars out of pocket, of which the checks were cashed today – ouch!). There is, in fact, a far greater chance that this cycle will be a very expensive failure. I am aware of this, both through the very nature of the procedure and other circumstantial facts. Perhaps I was too excited in the beginning and got everyone else all excited too. I am back living in the reality of chances and while deep down I believe that the odds have to flip every once in awhile, I don’t think that now is the time. But I could be wrong. I have been wrong before. Regardless, and due to my little faith and much smaller basket of hope, IUI #2 is tentatively planned for next cycle.

When You are Up, You're Destined to go Down

Yesterday I was excited. Yesterday everything looked really good. Today was an anxious day and although this plan could possibly work, it does not look probable. There is always something. Why can't this be easy by this stage? What a damn roller coaster. And no, I don't really feel like talking about it.

It was an Apple of a Weekend

The words have not come easily. Sometimes they do and sometimes they don't during the waiting times. We are somewhere between the HSG (dye test) and the first IUI. Everything looked really good with the dye test; both tubes are open and clear, no visible scarring. So really, the waiting has not even begun. The anticipation has settled in for what they will see on the follicle scan (lots of follicles = good news, some follicles = still good news, no follicles = cancelled IUI). I think that I finally have some discomfort due to ovarian function, we will definitely see at the scan. Again, I am so very excited and worried at the same time. Cautious optimism is still the key phrase surrounding all events.

Thankfully, this weekend has provided MANY opportunities to relegate all these issues to a back burner of sorts. We visited and spent the night with C's parents and it is such a relaxing atmosphere out there. A farm way out in the country with a creek, hills, fields, trees - everything. His parents adore us and make us feel so special whenever we spend time there. And they have an apple tree. More on that later. Then off to AM's for a short, but satisfying visit. More apples. Had dinner with my parents and then spent the night. More apples.

What all of this really means is that our two dogs get the opportunity to play with the three dogs in the country (C's parents') and the rowdy dog here at my parents' house. Bella and Boris are incredibly happy about these events and sleep for days after we get home. C has the opportunity to gather everything he wants to take home with us and to get some work done. He helps his parents out a lot when we visit. AM always provides me with a different version of real life - in that, her life is different enough from mine that she can drag me out of my self-centeredness, and similar enough to mine that advice is incredibly useful. I really appreciate and cherish moments spend with her. My parents just love to see us (like C's parents do). We talk and eat and laugh (my mom and C have a very teasing relationship). So I guess this makes us weird: that we are grown up, married, and come home often just to hang out and spend time with our parents. Really, I wish this scenario was an option for everyone. The benefits are enormous - I am still learning things from my parents and of course, tons from C's parents, we are constantly reminded that here are four people that love us unconditionally, and each couple lives their 30+ year marriage out in front of us still. That type of influence cannot really be underestimated.

About the apples. C's parents have a hybrid apple tree in their front yard. It's been there since they bought the house forty years ago. There are red, green, and yellow apples and C's mom and I picked enough to fill up a five gallon bucket (which I have to return to C's dad). C's mom had already made us some cooked apples that morning, so I borrowed her corer/slicer/peeler and took off for AM's. Since it has been a v. good year for apples, she already had two boxes that we needed to use. So there was a pie, some apple/pearsauce, and a 9x13 pan of apple crisp. It was a lot of apples and only a small amount was used out of my five gallon bucket. On to Mom's house. I had to make apple cinnamon muffins. Mom has a great recipe, I remembered these from childhood, and C had never had any! So, there are apple cinnamon muffins, apple crisp, and applesauce here at Mom's too. As for my dad, if there is any food product with cinnamon and sugar, he will eat it and love it. That's just the way Dad is.

The farm, the dogs, me possibly, and some apple/apple products.

The creek before the sun came out.

Pretty sunshine and foliage up the hill.

Boris the Blue Heeler and his sticks.

Boris the Blue Heeler squints.

Bella the Beautiful. I am responsible for the haircut.

Me. More of the creek. Cool red tunnels.

There were apples all over the ground. Such pretty colors. Three is a nice number. Triplets?

Lots more tempting apples in the tree beyond our reach.

C's dad is a beekeeper of sorts and has two found hives that he just bought Queens for. The bees are happy and love the rotting apples on the ground. Unless you are allergic, honey bees are mostly harmless.

Apple cinnamon muffins. We added crushed pecans to half of them and they were tasty!