Awarded & Rewarded

Jaime bestowed upon me the . . .

Have we ever met IRL? No.
Does that matter to us? No.
Would we get along IRL? I think so!

Jaime and I "met" on a PL board and have kept up with each other through the blogosphere. She's successfully pg with her little man (can't wait to see him!), and I'm looking forward to following in her footsteps soon.

Time to pass this award along to a few amazing ladies who have been there with me pretty much from the beginning - through my many lows and a few highs - and they're still around.

Eternally Waiting
My Dear Gherkin
Sometimes I Feel Lucky
The Happy Hours
Will They Have His Eyes?

Thank you, ladies.

Show & Tell: Thoughtful

After my Mary passed away, life oddly went back to normal in about 48 hours. It's been the past month or so that my grieving has really surfaced. When that process first began for me, a package was delivered to my home. The package was sent to me from precious, awesome, funny, sweet, talented, kind, thoughtful and everything-else-good Katie. I'm FINALLY getting to posting about it and thought it would make a great Show & Tell.

The first part of my package was a beautiful Willow Tree Angel. It is the "Thinking of You" angel, and she's holding a shell to her ear. When I sent Katie an email to thank her for such a precious gift, I shared with her that lately shells had been popping up here & there in reference to Mary. Mary loved the ocean and water, so a shell would be very fitting. Right now my angel is sitting on a shelf next to my side of the bed. I think of Mary every time I see it.




The next part of my wonderful gift wasn't really for me. It is a GREAT book titled, "Talk to the Tail (cause the whiskers ain't listenin'!). It wasn't really for me though, because the inscription in the front of the book was addressed to our Mindy, Mackey, Pippin & Steve from Harley & Jersey. :) If you have both dogs & cats, you'll get a real kick out of this book!

What we didn't know when Katie sent this package was that she would soon lose her precious grandmother as well. Just like Mary and me, Katie and her Granny shared a special relationship. We both miss our grandmothers terribly, and while we are so glad that we have such wonderful memories, it can never replace having them here to love. As we both tiptoe skip run kicking and screaming through PL & IF, I know that Katie is on my side and understands. How blessed can I be?

If DH Ever Reads This Blog

It's 7:48pm on a Friday night, and I'm in bed with my laptop while watching All My Children. (The soap opera, I'm obviously infertile and they aren't really my kids.)

Hellcramps from hell. Gawd. They haven't been this bad before - at least from what I can recall. M/C, yes. But the true, true Hellcramps? This might be a first. That or they're forgotten after it's over. (Along the lines of the L&D theory that the lucky ones share, except without pregnancy or a baby.)

Anyway . . . I'm writing in a lot of parentheses tonight. And it took me over four minutes just to write that rambling there.

So, DH comes into our bedroom to find me hunkered down in the covers and enjoying the heat of my laptop on my large, infertile belly. He asks how I'm feeling, and I'm more than happy to tell him. DH, being the smart ass horn dog sex depraved man kind helper that he is says, "I wish the penis could help." (Note: "the penis" would be referring to his own and only his own.) I kindly thank him, smirk, and send him away to fix me some damn dinner.



I love that man. If he ever reads this blog, he'll either leave me, kill me, crawl in a hole, or just plain croak. :)

New Day

I'm still awfully sad and frustrated and discouraged, but today is a new day. Sleep (albeit it fitful from back pain and hellcramps) somewhat helps a mind and a soul. I'm figuring out how to tell DH that this cycle is a goner. I think we both really thought this could be 'the one.' So far leaving the wrappers from my AF paraphenalia hasn't registered with him. Guess I'll tell him tonight that AF is on the way, so he can begin tiptoeing around his fragile wife yet again.

Spent

Cycle 26. BFN. CD25 and I'm already starting to bleed. Don't know how much longer I can beat my head against this brick wall. Each month, I like to pretend that I've stepped away from the wall unscathed, but that would be a huge lie. Who am I kidding? I'm spent.

Waking up every morning at 6am for over a year to take my temp. I wake up without an alarm because my body is so used to it now. Diligently charting every day. Trying what I can. Nothing. I'm spent.

Babies everywhere. Everywhere I go. Everyone I talk to. Everywhere I turn. Everywhere I look. I can't run. I can't hide. Babies. None of them are mine. I'm spent.

"It'll happen." "I know a girl who was 46 when she had her first." "God will get you through this and bring you a baby." "I'm so sorry." "What about adoption?" "It must be so hard." "Have you seen an RE?" "You haven't been trying that long, have you?" "Medicine is so advanced now that something will help." I'm sick of all the questions, stories of hope, sad looks, dancing around the subject, people avoiding me, and my life being on hold for something that's obviously not going to happen. I'm spent.

Where do we go from here? Do I call Dr. Terrific and tell him that I would delight in him cutting through my abdomen and into my uterus to try to fix me again? Do I pray that the hospital will even treat me since I'm having a hard time paying the medical bills from my surgery only six months ago? Or would it be me still paying the bills from the surgery one year ago? Should we find another RE - you know - a competent one? By doing any or all of that, would we then maybe get have a tiny, little glimmer of hope for a baby? I don't know. I'm spent.

I become increasingly tempted just to cut off all communication from the world. Delete my blogs. Delete my Facebook account. Not even attempt Twitter. Quit reading everything on my Google Reader. Then I'd have to turn off the TV & radio. Not read anything. Not go out in public. Don't answer the phone. If any of it would help, I would do it. Becoming a complete recluse won't make the hurt and pain go away.

I'm hoping all of these feelings are PMS, but not matter how many fake smiles I plaster on my sad face, the feelings don't go away. 2 years and 2 months. I've lost myself. I've lost my dreams. I've lost hope. I'm tired. I'm broken. I'm just spent.

Getting Through

The first hour of my day started off like this:
- woke up after having dreams of my Mary, and realized she's still not here
- woke up Mackey to see that he shit in his crate (yes IN the crate). Gag.
- found a dead tiny-baby bird on the back patio
- heard gas grill trying to ignite itself but luckily didn't blow to Kingdom come
- recorded my temps to learn that my FF chart is still whack & won't confirm O even though I KNOW it happened

Fun, huh? You can be jealous. It's okay.

Determined to survive what I anticipated to be an overly sucky day, I fed the pups, began prepping lunch to take to my mom, gnawed on some pineapple core, finished some laundry, cleaned the kitchen, left a message for my step-mom, talked to my little brother, showered, and did everything I could not to cry.

I did a good job for a while. I thought, "All right . . . I can do this!" Lunch was nice with my mom, Rick (her husband), and my brother Jeffrey. Then we started planning Mary's memorial. Tears. Mom first, me to follow. Luckily, my brother Michael and his daugther Aeva arrived right then & put smiles on our faces.

Then Mike & Aeva left, Rick took Jeffrey home, and Mom and I began to look through photos of my beautiful grandmother. More tears. It broke my heart when I started crying first, made my mom cry, and she said to me, "I'm sorry." Like there was anything she could have done to save me from losing Mary. It just hurt me to know that her mom isn't here for Mother's Day, and I felt the fear of knowing someday I will be in her shoes. We got through those tears together, and it helped. I know there are more to come.

I finally left for home after cleaning the kitchen and gathering things that my mom wanted me to take home. (Note: You never leave my mom's without taking some stuff home with you.) After unloading my car & eating dinner, I checked my email. An email from my Dad was at the top of my inbox. More tears. Bawling tears.

Kris,
I know this is a tough day in some respects for you but I want you to know that regardless of whether you are able to become a Mother, you are MY little girl and will always be MY little girl and I love you without reservation.
I love you very much!
Dad

Thankfully, it wasn't a Mothers' Day card like he'd sent in years past, but it was wonderful to hear such sentiments from my own Dad.

While today sucked, seeing my beautiful & amazing mom, spending time with my brothers, and hearing from many of my family & friends helped ease the pain that today brought. And so did a shitload of peanut M&Ms.

One Year Ago Today

When I began this blog one year ago, I was bitter. Oh wait, I still am! Let me try this again . . .

When I began this blog one year ago, I was bitter and struggling after three losses in one year. Today, I am still bitter and into my third year of trying to have a baby. I've rambled about all sorts of interesting, delightfully entertaining, heart-tugging, informational topics crap ranging from

who I am and other stuff about me
visits to Dr. Gloom & Doom (the now ex-RE)
how Dr. Terrific is so terrific
my phantom symptom watches
sucky reminders and ways we always remember
playing Show & Tell
prayers that were needed
and other blog delights (awards & stuff).

Now, keep in mind, I know this is not the most exciting blog in the world. (If it were, I'd be making money off it - duh!) However, while I've entertained informed expounded wisdom bored shared on this blog . . . I've never been alone. You have all been with me. Your comments comfort me when I feel alone. Your emails carry me when I feel isolated. Your love takes me through the dark, lonely, confusing, irritating, and heartbreaking days in the land of PL/IF.

Thank you from the bottom of my broken heart. Thank you.

So please EVERYONE, gather round the table for some Blogaversary cake! You can have as big of a piece as you like. You can have as many pieces as you like. We're in the world of my Fertile Ramblings where cake never ends! In fact, have as much ice cream, beer, wine, and margaritas as you like! Just don't puke on my floor.

To My Contest Winners

Life has gotten in the way of taking care of my faithful readers, and I apologize. I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN YOU!!! I already have your thread and am trying to coordinate with my sister so she can make your Common Thread bracelets.

I promise that they will be on their way to you soon . . . even to those of you halfway around the world. I promise.

Suck: Here It Comes

Here it comes. Mothers' Day is upon us. How could anything suck that has been established as a beautiful day when we honor, love, cherish, spend time with, and pamper our moms? Well, let's see. Mothers' Day to me brings all sorts of memories, thoughts, feelings, and worries to surface. Here are a few that just *pop* into my mind.

Yet another year that I'm not a mom. Suck.

My Dad used to send me Mothers' Day cards every year that he sent my sisters their cards. He'd write something sweet along the lines that someday I would be a wonderful mom. I don't get those cards anymore. Suck.

My grandmother Mary is gone. My mom is still grieving, as we all are, which makes it extra hard to wish your own mother a Happy Mothers' Day when her mother is now gone. We'll be "celebrating" Mothers' Day while planning my grandmother's memorial service. I know it will be an emotional day. I think of Mary every single day & miss her terribly. Suck.

Still not pregnant. I know. What else is new? Suck.

Still surrounded by pregnant friends, colleagues, and strangers in addition to the bajillion moms already out there. But I'm not either. Suck.

DH will be out of town on a guys' trip. No need for him to be with me on Mothers' Day since I don't qualify as a recipient of this "holiday." (My thinking, definitely not his.) Suck.

Tired of logging on to one of the message boards for ladies in my shoes and dealing with girls who just want to do stupid, silly stuff on the internet. I'm there for support, encouragement, and information not to play.

Scared to call my OB/gyn to tell him I'm still not pg because I don't want surgery. Suck.

Really sick of temping, charting, checking CM, scheduling sex, symptom checking, Mucinex/pineapple core/anything & everything, etc. I've only been doing it for about two years now. Suck.

Getting irritated seeing ALL of the babies on every public forum out there - websites, TV, ads, Facebook, blogs, magazines, pamphlets, mailers, etc.

Tired of putting everything in my world on hold - just in case. "I'll lose that weight when I'm pregnant." or "Maybe I shouldn't go to _____ because I might be pg then." or "We probably shouldn't ______ in case I'm pg." or "We really need to hurry & ______ before we find out we are pg." or "Honey, bring me a Tylenol and not an Advil (in case I'm pg). Suck.

To the amazing women reading this who want to be moms, are moms of angels, can't be moms, or are missing their moms . . . I know Mothers' Day will probably suck. Please know that you are in my thoughts and prayers on Sunday. If you feel comfortable doing so, please leave a comment so I can pray for you specifically.

Paint Myself Blue

My super bloggy-friend, Katie, is in the area and I was supposed to meet for dinner tonight. My stupid car died (like dead as a doornail died) leaving me with no wheels to go meet her. I was even going to avert any plans for No Pants Day in order to see my Katie. Yes, MY Katie.

I'm so disappointed . . .

So, everyone unpaint yourselves with that green envy paint you had slathered on since Katie and I were going to hang out tonight. Instead, you can paint yourselves blue since I'm sad that today's opportunity is gone. The only good news is that Katie's Dad did well in surgery and is recovery nicely now.

Maybe now Mr. & Mrs. Happy Hours will move to Texas to avoid all this needing to meet stuff. Yes, I know she just read that! :)