Faith vs. Fear

Floodgates

Oh boy.  The floodgates opened tonight.  Big time - and out of the freaking blue.  I'm all a hot, crying, snotty mess who just took a Xanax.  It hit me that tomorrow (April 24th) will make five years since we lost our first baby and began this awful journey.  One day that so strongly defined who I am and who I would become.  The one day that marked the beginning of it all.  Tears are just freely flowing, and they aren't stopping.  Five years ago right this very minute, I was pregnant with our first baby.  Yes, our "honeymoon baby" that I told *everyone* about from moment one.  Things were so amazing, so exciting, so perfect, so naive.  Then the next morning, shit hit the fan.  We went in for our first u/s and learned that we, in fact, were NOT having a baby after all.  Devastation doesn't begin to describe it.

Now, many might think that after five years I should be over all of this.  The only ones who will say that are those who have not experienced it (and, really, they can go fuck themselves).  Anyone else fully understands how the loss of a pregnancy - of a dream - never fully goes away.  I started to backtrack my blog to see when I wrote about that terrible day of April 24, 2007.  Have I even written about it?  Does anyone besides ME know anything about that terrible day?  Does DH even remember anything about it?  Did I just stuff everything deep inside?

Every little detail still seems so clear in my memory and can still sting my heart.  The top I was wearing.  The layout of the waiting room.  The nerves and excitement.  The lights in the ceiling.  The touch on my leg.  The "I'm sorry" that took my breath away.  That dark, dark, dark empty screen.  The immediate blood draw.  The tears trickling down my nurses cheeks while she stuck me.  Me demanding an immediate D&C because I couldn't go on.  Calling family.  Calling work.  Panic attacks.  Crying, crying, crying, and crying some more until I was in the fetal position, almost throwing up, unable to breathe, my lips and eyes swelled shut for days.

I know I've written about it somewhere, so I need to dig it out.  If I haven't, then I guess it is time.  Yes, here I am . . . rambling again.  This is not some fancy, planned post.  Just back to my heart vs. my head and typing it all out while hoping that my tears don't fry the keyboard of my laptop.

So YES, infertility has changed my life and it's not wrapped up in a few pretty words.  IF sucks.  It stole my three babies, tried to steal my heart, tried to wreck my marriage, tried to kill me . . . but it hasn't.  Loss and Infertility will always be a part of me, but I refuse to let it take me over anymore.  Don't know if I have "won" but I'm certainly not in the fight any longer.  And I'm still going to be a Mommy.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Jeremiah 29:11

The Impossible

For the past several years, I've driven by the Destination Maternity store along the highway that takes me to and from work each day and thought, "I can't wait to walk in there and buy a cute maternity outfit for myself."  Through time it became more painful to drive by that store, yet I still kept that hope of buying that one overpriced maternity outfit for when my time came.

Well, Thursday's drive by caused a small break in the dam.  A chink appeared in my armor.  I literally looked over to see the store that's awaited me all this time . . . and began sobbing.  It only lasted a minute or so but it finally hit me with a finality that I've never quite felt until now.  I will NEVER be pregnant.  I will NEVER have a baby bump.  I will NEVER wear maternity clothes.  I will NEVER carry a baby.  I will NEVER feel a baby kick inside of me.  Nor will I have to announce to DH that I've gone into labor nor deliver a baby nor see the look on DH's face when our baby comes out of my body - not any of it.  It will be completely and totally impossible after Tuesday morning.  There is no miracle to be had.

(::insert the true insanity of this::  I know it wasn't possible for any of that to happen anyway, but as a female you always hang on to some strange, idiotic thread of hope that miracle might somehow come your way.)

I'm still crying some tears about that fact.  Call it hormones, exhaustion, stress, fear or a combination of it all (which it is), but I think I'm experiencing that final stage of grief.  I'm going through it and feeling it because I know it needs to happen.  I've learned on this path that it makes it worse for me to stuff all of the feelings until I explode.  Man, it feels weird.  I've been fighting this battle for what feels like so long.

That battle has ended.  It's finished.  It is truly over, even though I didn't get to win.  And I hate losing.

Inside the Glass

I'm struggling with the "what-ifs" right now.  I can't even put it into words and have it make sense.  Unfortunately, this mental game I'm playing in my head isn't a good one.  The cyclical "what-ifs" aren't good ones but more of me having an attitude of failure, the attitude of a fatalist.  They are all thoughts revolving around us becoming a family - however/if/when that is supposed to happen now.  Oh, how I wish I could turn all of these thoughts around into an attitude expecting positive outcomes.

Racked with fear, my mind and my heart race.  Sleep doesn't help.  Walks in the crisp, wintry air doesn't help.  Meds don't help.  Alcohol doesn't help.  Comfort food doesn't help.  Sex doesn't help.  Mental escape doesn't help.  All of those things that good addicts and other escapists use are no good for me.  While some may alleviate it for a short while, I feel that my insides are blanketed.  I see through the same eyes, using the same mind, and depending on the same heart, but everything on the insides is blanketed in . . . whatever this is.

It's not depression.  I know too well what that feels like.  It is a lonely, lonely place.  A solitude that nobody - not even those closest to me - can quite comprehend.  Just a place where I find myself more often than not.  Is it fear?  Yes.  Is it grief?  Probably.  Is it sadness?  Maybe.  Is it fear of loss and/or failure?  Always.  Is it fear of success?  Most likely.

So here I sit inside the glass.  From this perspective I can't tell if it's half-full or half-empty.  This glass may have absolutely nothing in it, but I just can't tell.  I can see everything outside the glass, but I don't know if any can see me from out there.  I can scream from within the glass, but I don't think anyone can hear my silent cries.  Every now and then, I hear tapping from the outside of my glass.  Excitedly, I think it might someone coming to help me, to throw me a life preserver, or to save me.  Yet it is most typically just another person who needs something from me.  Ha!  They think I have something left to give???  So, instead of trying to figure it out, I just keep sitting here.  In my glass.

Paralyzed.

Wondering.

Hoping.

Fearing.

Praying.

Dreaming.

But not doing a damn thing about it.

Big Day #1 Tomorrow

Tomorrow is my first monitoring appointment for this IVF cycle.  I'm nervous that I'll get there and my u/s will showing nothing.  As in zero - zip - nada - no follies.  My wacky mind has even thought as far as, "What if my ovaries are gone?"  Well, I know my ovaries won't be gone, but I do have the worry that they won't be doing anything and we get cancelled.

My appointment is at 11:30 tomorrow morning.  It will be quite a race for me to leave school on time, get to Dr. Super's office on time, be seen, and race back to school to pick up my kids from lunch at 1:00.  Thankfully, I work with a supportive principal (who asks that I not share many details with him!) and a team of three wonderfully supportive women who are helping make this scheduling possible.

Please send any thoughts, prayers, vibes, raindances, voodoo, wishes - whatever you got - this way.  Goodness knows I need them.

Random Ramblings

Had a busy morning here.  There was plenty of poking and prodding on all sorts of my lady parts by 11am, and I feel as if I've been violated enough for one day.  I made it to school to rescue my sub by 11:30.  Around 3:30 (after my kids were gone), I started having hellfire cramps and headed home to the heating pad.  Luckily DH went to Albertson's to get "cheap chicken" (seriously - that's what they call their chicken dinner), so we were easily fed.  He's now cranking out a major class project that is due on Wednesday & I'm in bed with my heating pad, laptop, cell phone, home phone, one dog, one cat, and a remote.  Lotsa heat going on 'round here!  Anyway, enough rambling - on to my appointment.

Nurse J got the radiology group to squeeze me in for a mammogram this morning, so I got my b/w done, piac for whatever test they need it for . . . then ran downstairs to fill out paperwork, wipe off deodorant & get a mammogram . . . then back upstairs for u/s and MET.  The mock transfer went fine.  Dr. Super told me there was some resistance from the catheter in passing the cervix, but I didn't feel it.  No cysts were found during the u/s, but Dr. Super found another damn fibroid that he believes is outside of the uterine cavity. It better be or my chances of maintaining a normal pregnancy are shot closer to hell than usual.  I have no idea if I have any follicular development at this point.  In fact, I don't even know if I should or not.  Clueless much?  I chatted with Nurse Helpful before I left and made my next appointment.  It will be my first monitoring appointment, set for 11:30.  I will race from school (at least 20 mins from Dr. S' office) at 11:00, do my appointment, and race back to school in time to pick up my class from lunch at 1:00.  It will be a race.  The monitoring appointment is when more b/w is done to test my E2 levels and Dr. S will do another u/s (aka "follie check") to see how my ovaries have responded to the Gonal-F (stim meds).  I should have lots of fat follicles ready to have eggs vacuumed from them during the ER.

That brings on a whole new set of fears.  When Dr. S finished my u/s and MET today, he said that he'll see me again when it's time to see how many eggs we will retrieve.  I said, "Great!" and asked if I just need to watch my fluid retention and weight gain in the case of OHSS.  Dr. S responded, "I don't think you will have problems with over stimulation.  My main concern is that you won't respond at all."  UGH.  It is a well-known fact with anyone familiar with my protocol that I will be on the highest amount of stimulation medication possible (twice as much as the most highly medicated women) and on tons of estrogen along the way.  If we get cancelled because my body is non-responsive to the meds, then I guess we will be done.  I don't even want to think about it right now, but I also want to be real.  Why can't this just be easy?

I'm still bleeding some. Still exhausted. Weird as hell dreams. Looking forward to the break ahead.
Next up: Acupuncture and E2V (estrogen) IM injection tomorrow & Friday, then stims + EV2 supps begin next week. Loads of Thanksgiving & hormonal fun ahead!

Waves

Right now, I'm experiencing a wave of emotion that is linked to fear ---- fear of the unknown, fear of failure.  In reading a couple of different online forums, I've seen some cases of women going through similar journeys as ours that have experienced failed IVF cycles.  I read their stories and questions and my stomach sinks into a small pit.  I am trying to remain positive and hopeful, but the inevitable (aka my history) takes over and I just want to be ill.

I do have smaller waves of emotion that bring excitement, hopefulness, and readiness.  I need to work on riding those waves more often than not and continuing to review my mental images (visualizations) of the outcome we want.

Let's just hope when I start the real hormones next week, that the waves don't look more like this!  :)

Assignment #1

The first assignment for my e-class was to give a voice to our story.  One thing that was said in our assignment instructions was that "most people don't want to hear about the children you don't have and how you miss them."  How true that is.  None of this makes any sense to someone who hasn't experienced PL or IF, but I'm giving a voice to my story on this blog and continue to do so even further in my e-class.

Here are some of the points that I included in addition to some background (a timeline of sorts) and other feelings.

"I feel like a failure, a baby killer, and that I’ve let everyone down."

". . . counseling from a complete moron of a counselor who told me I 'cry too much.'  I then become a crybaby with a temper."

"All of DH’s numbers look amazing, so I’m obviously the problem here. I continue to feel like a complete failure. This is so unfair."

"Present – Still here with an empty bank account, barren uterus and tired, broken heart. On cycle #42 and don’t have any idea how I got here or why I am going through this."

"I continue to blog, but . . . There are times I don't verbalize my thoughts and feelings because it's not worth someone in my life getting pissed off or upset by what I've said.  Those thoughts I just keep to myself and deal with on my own."

"I feel so alone . . . I still wonder what I’ve done to deserve this. I’ve spent most of my life taking care of everyone else. Now that I need others to take care of me, either nobody wants to or knows how to help me. They are all too busy with their own families to remember their barren friend. I look in the mirror and don’t even know who the person looking back at me is anymore. I hate IF. I’m sad, lonely, bitter, and pissed off in general. How I continue to go on is beyond me."

"On the horizon - I have an (upcoming) appointment with IVF specialist. Don’t know how we’ll pay for IVF since we are both teachers & have no IF coverage, but where there’s a will there’s a way. Just hoping and praying it will happen because I don’t know what I’ll do if it doesn’t. I REFUSE to give up, but really . . . how much more do I have to endure? It shouldn’t be this difficult.?"

Alone.

That's how I'm feeling lately.  It's like nobody understands - nobody.  Granted I spent surgery day through Wednesday on the couch, pretty much by myself, which can lead to isolation and loneliness.  However, even after time with friends and family . . . I'm alone.  Nobody fucking understands. If they do, they certainly don't act like it.  If they know, they sure as hell aren't reaching out.  I feel like I have to do all of the calling, emailing, messaging, reaching out.  Sometimes I simply need someone that understands this battle to get in touch with me and say, "Hey.  It sucks. I'm here for you." and then I feel like I can actually talk to them about this island I feel to be stuck upon day after day, month after month, year after year.  Nobody can fix it.  I know that.  But, geez, I'm feeling so isolated.  Each day that goes by is another pregnancy announcement, another birthday for a child that was born after I lost my three babies, and other reminders that I'm broken and barren.

* People that haven't been through this - be quiet.  You truly have no opinion to me.  I know you mean well, but STFU.  What you have to say usually doesn't help but makes me feel as bad if not worse.
* People that understand what it's like - help me out here.  Don't hole up also and let me figure out where you are by some random happening.  Please don't make me feel so alone by not reaching out.  If you're in the trenches it sucks for you, too.  Can't we help each other out here?
* People who have been through all of this and now have a child - don't act like you have elevated above my status and I can't be your friend because it's too hard.  Yeah, you have a child/children, but you know what it's like.  You aren't above it and I know I am certainly not.

Now that I write all of that, I KNOW there are going to be some people that either think or write to me saying, "I'm sorry. I hope I haven't done that." or "I didn't mean to." or "You're just so bitter.  I miss the real you." or "I don't know how to help you anymore." or other comments and advice.  This isn't about anyone in particular.  It is about ME.  It is about the fact that I'm going on cycle 40, and the family that I have dreamed about for years - the family that we've been wanting for years - isn't happening.

I'm only in this life for true friends now.  I'm too old for anything else.  This is a serious battle here, and I need some serious people in it with me.  Put up or shut up.  Be with me or get the hell out of my way.

Does that sound selfish?  Probably.  Do I expect to be the #1 priority to anyone else but me?  No.  Do I care?  No.  I'm the person who has given up more than my share of time, effort, love, money, care, and life to everyone else.  It is time that DH & I get what we want and deserve.  Do I know that has/may cost me more friendships?  Sure.  Sorry, but if you aren't willing or able to stand beside or behind me in battle, be gone with your bad self.  I may love ya, but go away.

Hold on to my dreams?  Believe that it can happen?  Keep trying?  Keep fighting?  Give up?  Lay down?  Quit?  Surrender?  Hell if I know.  I'm tired, and I just don't know how much longer this can go on.  Really - how long do you fight until it's time to lay down your weapon and surrender?  I'm just about out of energy, emotion, money, and time.  I don't plan to surrender until I am told I have no other choice, but still . . .

Brought to you by the bitter bitch who is feeling better physically but still dying inside.

NEXT BIG THING

After another OPK-challenging cycle, I called Nurse Excellent today. I left her a rambling voice mail which basically said, "I'm an idiot . . . can't read an OPK . . . got new ones that aren't digital . . . had O symptoms . . . what to do . . . can I come in . . . I'm at work . . . should I come in . . . have the school secretary push your call to me . . . I'm sorry . . . I'll have kids in my room, so I might speak in code . . . I know I'm a pain . . . thank you so much . . . and so on.

Nurse E and I talked a few times today. I'm so desperate that I actually say the words "egg white cervical mucus" while on the phone. Out loud. In front of my fourth graders. Dear mercy, I hope they thought I was ordering breakfast.

In talking with Nurse E I learn that, of course, Dr. Terrific was gone for the afternoon. I told Nurse E that I refused to let Young Dr. R near my hooha again, for fear that he might repeatedly mistake a large artery for an ovary. Dumbass. But I digress . . . My two options - meet with Old Dr. R (stupid Young Dr. R's awesomely smart dad) and take an impromptu half day off to do it (teachers know how freaking difficult this is) OR let Nurse E and I did our own little sonogram. Guess what we did? :)

I teach about twenty miles from the doctor's office, but thanks to the traffic gods I made it there in, let's say, ummmmmm 20ish minutes. Thanks to an awesome colleague/friend, I left as my kids actually left the front door. I got there and, walking half-nekkid around the exam room, we girls got down to bidness. Before jumping on the fancy bed with lovely crocheted stirrups, I dropped four or five used OPKs on the counter and said, "This is why I'm losing my mind." Of course, they all had CD #s and times written on them with varying degrees of darkness of pink lines here & there. Nurse E MUST think I'm losing it, and I just proved it to her. So, standing there still half-nekkid in front of Nurse E and my crappy sticks, we determined that I might have surged yesterday. Maybe.

I hopped up on the fancy table while Nurse E fired up the dildo cam. She took some measurements and was awesomely good with it all, showing me stuff along the way. Just to confirm everything, "Old Dr. R" (Young Dr. R's dad) did a backup u/s. He saw the line of pink sticks and probably thought I'd lost my mind and agreed that I probably durged yesterday (CD13 - early for me) and declared that I should O in the next 12 or so hours. Looked like a delightful trilaminar, 13mm lining with a possiblity of 4 little follies ready to get to work. I'm honestly not sure if I've Od or not, but I think I might have.

My instructions? Go home, have sex tonight, come back tomorrow for insemintation.

That's right. You heard it. IUI tomorrow!


Yep, I was just seeing if you were actually reading this blog. :)


I then drove another 20 miles back to school to write plans & get my shit together prepare everything for my sub.

On the way there, I flitted through 5:00 traffic and listened to some Christian music which always calms and focuses me. The words that I heard soared through my heart. I went from freaking out to calm to crying to praying to hoping again. Yes, I said hoping.

For hope to stand, one must have faith. I have faith and now I'm holding on to hope. I know with hope there is also fear and disappointment, but I must focus on the hope and cling to my faith. When the fear overcomes me, I will pray. And I will pray the prayer I say every day, "Lord, bless us with a child that we can carry to term and deliver as a healthy angel of yours for us to raise on Earth for you." All of the prayers, good thoughts, love, and good vibes you can muster are requested and appreciated.

Lord, hear our prayers.

I will update you tomorrow as I can. I'm sure there will be much prayer with much comedy along the way. Thanks . . . . . . .

Regaining & Returning

It's been one year, four months, a couple of weeks, and several days since I was last pregnant.

In the past sixteen plus months, I have regained myself to some effect. I'm slowly (very slowly) returning to ME. I used to be such a passionate, loving, carefree, funny, somewhat confident, gregarious, ready person. That was all taken with my babies.

However, I am now (after much time ) finally able to smile, laugh, and even experience joy at times. There are times that I sincerely laugh, and I even almost conscientiously forget the pain while laughing and trying to enjoy what life has to offer. It's almost like the laughter helps release some of the pain from my soul. After losing our first three babies in the first year of our marriage, I NEVER thought that would be possible. Never. Ever.

There are also times when I can talk to people (mainly women), and I share our struggles while feeling like maybe this was my purpose. I know deep in my soul that God has purposed me for something. While I NEVER in my life imagined my purpose would entail the pain I have endured through RPL and IF, I see now that God wants me to share with others. Our struggles, our pain, our diagnoses, our decisions, and our heartache might have actually been God's plan for us to share mercy with others. It needs to be shared with others because there are so many out there who feel as if they are suffering alone. They feel as if nobody has ever been through what they are enduring right now. And, worst of all, they feel alone. I know how they feel. Many of you reading know how they feel. They need to know that they aren't the only ones. They are not alone. There are MANY MANY MANY MANY of us out here. They are not allowed to be alone. Well, at least not for long. I'm here with them all. We all are.

And then again, I may be crazy. Today is CD1. AF is kicking my ass. The hell-cramps are killing me. Seriously kicking my ass. AF's cruel, evil, crampy ways forced me to drink large amounts of wine tonight while hanging with my neighborhood friends. Yes, I blame it on her. The wine with friends doesn't take away the hell-cramp pain. The worst part of all - it doesn't take away the pain of RPL. It doesn't take away the pain that IF has brought me since then. It does, however, bring me to meet yet another woman who has miscarried before. And another woman that has found a successful pg. And even another one who (through IVF) had her baby today. Ladies that can bring me a little bit of hope. And then there is, yet another one, who verbalized the fact that once things settle down, "it will happpen" making me feel a bit deflated and alone - again. Thank goodness my friends Chardonnay and Merlot are still around. Plus, their friends Lay's and Planter's. Good, familiar, and salty forever friends. Of course, there is the stubborn rebounding person that is me. I get through it again.

I've survived (key word: survived) three miscarriages - that's three dead babies. And I'd like to keep it at that. I have become more of me in the past months. I get out of bed. I get dressed. I even shower. I step out the front door. I go out in public. I smile. I talk. I laugh. I spend time with family & friends. I talk about our past. I talk about the hopes for our future. I even walk through the freaking baby department at Target. For some reason, I actually hold on to hope. I endure.

I guess the scariest part of this is that the future is unsure. I'm a woman who thrives on plans and guarantees. I'm great at following through with promises. Promise me something; I'll see it through with you. I'm fiercely loyal in that way - although it's bit me in the ass more than several times before. Plus, my OCD tendencies kick into high gear whenever I'm uncertain, out of control, and scared.

And then I remember.

Things don't go well when I'm pregnant. I get pregnant - woohooo! I start spotting at 6w3d - uhoh. I kill babies in the 8th week - oh God.

So what if I go through the Femara, have the IUI, get pregnant, spot at 6w3d, and lose the baby? Do I go back to square one? Do I go back to where I was? Do I have to spend another year in the black hole - crying, rocking myself, losing hair, bleeding to death, dealing with hormones, losing who I am, explaining it all, crying some more, and falling back to where I have been before? Do I drag my wonderful husband through it all again?

I just worry that the Femara & IUI work fabulously, only to disappoint and reject us again. Where will I go from there?

Is it worth it? Yes.

Having a baby? Of course it is worth it. Most definitely.

Losing another baby? I don't know.

God forbid things work well and we lose it later in the pregnancy. I don't know if I can survive it again. Was I really made to lose baby after baby after baby? I mean . . . hell . . . I've already lost more babies than some women actually deliver. Is that my fate? I've done it before. Have I really done so many terrible, crappy things in my life to deserve it AGAIN? And have I done so many terrible things that my HUSBAND has to endure it all again & again? That's not fair to him.

So that is where my conflict lies right now. Conflict or not, I have to make decisions. Decisions that are best for me. My husband. Our present family. And our future family.

I don't want to go through the pain again. God, please no. But I guess we have to take the risk - again - to see if we actually are blessed to reap the rewards.

I look behind and look ahead. I look back and think, "There is NO WAY that we want to go through that again." Then I stop and think, "There's not way that we can NOT try again. We need and deserve to have children of our own - to have a family."

And then I freak out again.

CD1. Femara in two days. OPKs in 8 days. IUI soon after.. HPT when it comes. And a pregnancy - up to God. Lovenox, all the sonos, more meds, the appointments, the perinatologist, the injections. I'm scared, excited, hesitant, worried, ready, prepared, panicked, breathless, petrified, and just doing it. Winners don't gain by being chicken. I pray that we are not the chickens that get slaughtered.

I'm slowly regaining myself and returning to me. Oh God, what's next?

Need to Post

For days, I've had a post brewing in my head about my anxiety level and my (already) nervousness about this next cycle. I'm already playing the "what if" game in my head - everything from actually walking through the baby department at Target (which I don't do) to not good what ifs (won't go there right now).

Can't I just go to sleep and wake up with a successful, viable pregnancy that ends with a healthy baby?

Didn't think so.

Why?

Although I didn't say anything about it on this blog, I REALLY thought I was pregnant after all the symptoms I was having - sore boobs, nausea, massive bloating, pregnancy/bfp dreams, waves of crampiness, and throwing up dinner one night. I'm trying REALLY hard not to get depressed about it. Disappointment is a nice way to describe how I feel now.

It's scary because I'm 41 and just don't have a lot of time now. I just can't give up. I have to have a baby. How did I go from being pg three times in one year to NOTHING?? I feel like I don't know anything anymore.

Time to double up on the Prozac (which I quit taking in the 2ww), drink like a fish, have a sushi/hot dog/deli meat/soft serve ice cream/soft cheese sandwich, and figure out where to go from here.

This sucks.

Yearning

Tonight is tough for some reason. I desperately want us to have a baby, and tonight I feel desperate in that possibility. I have tears in my eyes and an emptiness in my heart. I don't understand why this is happening to us. I feel so cheated.

As an elementary school teacher, I see children EVERY SINGLE DAY who are not being parented. Why do people have children if they don't plan to love them, parent them, and nurture their upbringing? WTH are they thinking? I could go on a long, angry tirade about it, but I'm down right now and know that I can't fix others much less own situation right now.

I just needed to get that out. God, what if we never get to have children? Tears begin to flow . . .

Sigh . . .

I'm just feeling down. Sad. Left behind. Alone. Fearful. Jealous. Empty. Isolated. Lonely.

Even though I have a wonderful DH and more friends than any person should be so blessed to have, I feel like everyone has their own family and I've been left behind. Again.

All I seem to hear about is everyone's children and everyone's pregnancies and their friends' children and their friends' pregnancies and so on and so on. How much do I have to hear? The comments don't feed into my jealousy. They feel like additional stabs to my heart and compound my feelings of sadness. Mostly, it just adds to my feelings of loss.

I told DH tonight that our goal for next month is to get pregnant. I'll be 41 in a couple of weeks, and I know time is not on our side. I mean, hell, we've been pregnant the past two Marches, so why break that track record? We've been doing this TTC crap for two years now. I'm terrified.

I'm terrified that we won't get pg.
I'm terrified that we will get pg.
I'm terrified that we'll have another m/c.
I'm terrified that we'll have a late loss.
I'm terrified that we'll have to deliver still.

I'm just scared. Most of all, I'm scared we will never have a family. And I just can't shake it. With every day that passes, with every prayer that leaves me, I fear that it just won't happen. The rest of the world is deserving of children. Why not us? I can't let my fears paralyze me, but I'm really worried that my gut will prove to be right yet again.

Pity party for one, please.

At what point?

So at what point do I lose my shit?

Things are really "difficult" right now. Okay . . . they are really hard. Really tough. Extremely wearing. What's going on you ask? Hold on tight.

1. DH and his brother are dealing with a bunch of stuff with their mother (my MIL). I won't go into it all because I'm trying to respect the privacy of others, but let's just say that she is beyond the point of crazy & repair, and it is taking a complete toll on my BIL and (worst of all) my husband. There is nothing I can do to fix it. I feel completely helpless, and I feel like I am losing my husband. This is the core of our stress at home. There is more that involves the upkeep of our home, having a relationship, taking care of stuff & all, but that is taking a back burner to my batcrazy MIL. Most of all, I worry about my husband. This is incredibly difficult on him. It makes me want to cry every time I think about it.

2. My grandmother is dying - and slowly at that. She has been battling cancer for 29 years, and the cancer is starting to win. She is on 90mg morphine in the morning and 90mg at night with breakthrough meds (sublingual morphine rocks) during the day. The fact that she's walking around the house "getting things done" (according to her) is absolutely beyond me.

3. My mother's husband (Rick) is still undergoing testing to figure out what is causing his health problems. He was in the ICU before Christmas, and is still dealing with health issues. I feel like he will be okay physically, but since he is not working, I worry about my mother and the stress I know she feels trying to keep things afloat. I'm worried she'll work herself into the ground. That's her nature, and after her open heart surgery in August, she needs to take care of herself.

4. My stepmother is having major neck surgery on Friday. Her doctor sounds to be more than competent, but I know it will be a long recovery process. I worry about my Dad taking care of her (though he is good, the man cannot cook!) and her recovery.

5. The sadness of Kaden losing his battle and Sarah & Jamie's birthmother bailing out makes me so sad. It also creates a sense of fear that makes moving forward difficult. Life gives it and takes it away.

6. School is extremely stressful for both of The Ramblers this time of year. TAKS (the Texas Assessment of Knowlege and Skills), the Texas standardized testing, is upon us which requires above and beyond time, teaching, love, patience, and more time than usual. The expectations of our students is high. The pressure of TAKS, student success, reports, meetings, tutoring, discipline, and just trying to do the basics of our jobs is completely overwhelming right now. We don't get paid enough for this.

7. After going through taxes, I have figured out that I somehow owe the government money. How a woman that is a teacher who spent more than 10% of her annual salary on medical bills owes the IRS, I do not know. I am suffering financially due to the stress of daily/monthly expenses, medical bills, student loans, one credit card, and just plain trying to survive.

8. I miss so many of my friends. I am blessed to be a person surrounded by so many friends and loved ones. This whole RPL/IF business has taken a major toll on the relationships I have with others. I miss that, and I often don't know how (or if) I can get it back to where it was.

9. Everyone is pregnant. No, seriously - EVERYone. Whether they conceived without assistance,-had a succesful AI - med cycles, IUI. IVF - they are pregnant & staying that way. I am so very thrilled for them all because I've prayed for their happiness & success, yet I'm also feeling very left behind.

10. Oh yeah in case you didn't know: We are trying to get pregnant and actually have a baby. Only been doing that for a couple of years now. No thanks to the life/crap that is innundating us, we need to work Plan A. I try not to worry about it, but if we don't get pregnant (and STAY pregnant) in the next two months, we will not have a baby in 2009. Don't know how/if I can handle that.

It is so overwhelming and inundating. No stress ......................... Lord, hear our prayers. I have been crying to the Heavens through your angels. Please bless us with a viable pregnancy that results in a healthy pregnancy that delivers a healthy baby to term. While that seems like a huge & almost insurmountable task to us, we pray that God can hear our cries and answer our prayers. I know I am imperfect and I beg for your forgiveness. Please bless us with one of your angels that we can raise here on Earth in your image and love.

While there are others, these are only the issues at the forefront of my mind. tonight Your love, prayers, and good thoughts are appreciated. Not just for us, but prayers are desired for all those who need it.

SURROUNDED

I am the wounded animal, lying still in the field. I don't want to seem wounded, so I appear very strong and fearless. Hoping not to die, I see them circling. They are the vultures, and they spread their wings and hover around me in the air.

Surprisingly, they are not trying to kill me. They simply watch me because they do not want me for dinner. The vultures soar in circles above me, watching me suffer in silence while carefully protecting myself. Tears sometimes trickle down my cheek, but I try not to let them see it. The hunters cannot see the wounds of their prey, for they are all inside of me.

The vultures are everywhere - everywhere you look, everywhere you go, everywhere you turn. They are in simple disguises, dressed as beautiful and friendly women . . . friends, strangers, and relatives. They have children or are pregnant or are having other successes while TTC while we lie and suffer, exercising every ounce of self-preservation we can muster. If you are a wounded animal lying still in the field of TTC, PL, and IF, you see them too.

And we continue to lie still in the field, trying to guard our wounds, bleeding from the inside, hiding our tears, holding back our fears, not willing to come out and fight for fear of losing the battle again.

New Year, New Attitude

Well, kinda. I'm really now kinda scared as shit, and I don't know why. I know what it is like to get pregnant, be pregnant, and have a miscarriage. Shoot - I've done it three times now! (I'm even considered "Most Informed" by the other ladies sailing on the RPL boat with me.)

But now, it's different. Maybe I just feel like the stakes are higher, time is running out, this is getting serious, or something. I'm nervous and worried and scared and trying to be hopeful. Seriously, if we don't get pg soon we'll be out of the race for good. As in forever. As in never. I can't face the thought of that.

Follow-up appointment with Dr. G&D is Thursday. Although we had the impromptu-me-calling-his-personal-cell-phone conference , I'm going in to meet him face to face and maybe even see some more party pics from my delightful HSG and MRI experiences. I guess we'll talk some more about my retarded uterus, about what kind of drugs I need, why I need to get pg and fast, etc. He'll tell me that I have a higher risk of m/c (ya think???) and a higher risk of PTL. I'll tell him I know that, and let's get it done. I have STD insurance (that's Short Term Disability, not sexually transmitted disease insurance), so at least we'll be covered should the need for bedrest arise. This is all assuming we get pg and STAY that way.

On another note, DH finally told his mom about our struggles. She has mental illness (well, she's batshitcrazy) and physical stuff going on, but she can somehow still beat him down about grandchildren and send me a freaking Kate Spade diaper bag for Christmas. Well, now she knows we've had three m/c, and she's excited that we might have twins. DH says any more than two and he'll "cut if off." Yeah, right.

I'll take twins. DEFINITELY. In fact, I'd like twins. I'd LOVE twins. I'm crazy like that. Especially twin girls - but I'd take whatever. I won't ask for them twice or more, though, because I don't want God to get confused and send us four or eight or twelve. Not really up for that.

"Do you have children?" (listen for cricket noises as DH exchange the "uhhhh" glances)
"No, we don't." (more cricket noises)
"We're trying."
Thanks for asking stranger person to whom we were just introduced.. That's definitely the question I wanted to hear and answer in the first twelve hours of 2009. Made for a good excuse to drink two or more glasses of wine plus a strong bloody mary in less than two hours. Also made for a good nap on the road. :)

So . . . as I was saying, my appointment is Thursday. We're back in the saddle again.

Ramblingly Yours,
The Rambler

I Can Feel It

But I only feel it slipping away.
You know what it is.
You might have it.
You might not.
You might have lost it.
You might have found it again.
I've had it for a while.
A long while, in fact.
But now I feel it slipping away.
And it hurts.
I've held tight to it for so long.
Even when it's been ripped from me.
Ripped from me time and time again.
I've always found more to hold.
I've always fought hard to keep just a little of it.
But now . . .
I'm having a hard time finding it.
I just don't feel it right now like I have before.
Even in the dark times.
My grip has weakened.
It's slipping away.
So far away that I don't know if I can find it again.

It's that thing called hope.
It's slipping away quickly.
And I don't know if I can get it back.