i’m just along for the ride

well that was fun.  one day off estrogen. ONE damn day off of it and BOOM. i have a lead horse already. one lousy day and everything goes to pot. i am so annoyed at my body. i can’t even get ready for infertility treatments properly.

magician shook his head in disbelief as we stared at the ultrasound screen.  even HE was annoyed at my body.

so where does that leave us?  i have a total of 5 follies. 3 of them are new. 1 of them is already 11mm. it was non-existent on monday’s exam. and here is it all braggadocious like, flexing it’s muscles in a too-tight t-shirt that reads “i’m here to f*ck sh*t up!”  well done sir, well done.

magician says let’s do super-ovulation IUI. major eye rolling happening. which means let’s inject some stimulation medication, see you on monday and we go from there. he is 99.999999% sure this will not be an IVF cycle. unless a miracle happens and that lead horse stops fractures its leg, allowing for the rest of the pack to catch up. which we know ain’t gonna happen.

he reminded me i have “proven fertility”. i hate that term. sure, i have proven that i can have a child. i have also proven that i can lose four times as many. oh and don’t forget that i have 1 tube now. i’m already behind the gun. and even that 1 tube looks awfully suspicious/narrowed/constricted. so i argue that “proven fertility” case. but it doesn’t change anything.

so i sighed. what else can i do? clearly my body has a mind of it’s own. i’m just along for the ride. now we wait and stab and watch… hopefully i’ll get a few mature follies forming to make this IUI worth a shot.

oh monday. please bring good news.

tickets, please.

welp… we are heading back to the races people. saw magician a couple times last week and this week and so far things are shaping up nicely for IVF 2.1. holding breath…

no lead horses. yet.

no weird cysts. yet.

so far all is quiet on the ovarian front. eerily quiet… you guys, i am 1 dildo cam experience away from jumping in with both feet… if everything looks good tomorrow we are a GO.

this excites me to no end while simultaneously terrifies me to my core. i so badly want this to work for a million reasons, most of which being that we would finally have our baby (duh). my heart would feel full again (almost)… and i would know all the sacrifices that i, my husband, and my son have made to get to that glorious moment were worth it… there are no words for how i would feel. the overwhelming feelings from every angle. love, happiness, relief, closure, you name it. and every iota of suffering. every surgery. every tear. every sleepless night. it would be worth it. to hold that baby in my arms.

and i am struck by fear. because this is it. there are no more chances. there is no IVF 3.0. not unless pigs fly and shower my house in 100 dollar bills y’all. clearly IUI is a joke. thanks for playing, body! and if i can’t have a baby with IVF where does that leave me. i cannot go down that road, the “we are done trying” conversation. just thinking about having to have that talk brings tears to my eyes. i just. can’t. even. but what is my alternative? try naturally forever and risk how many more ectopics? how many more hospitalizations? how many more miscarriages? am i strong enough for that? i really don’t know. i don’t have those answers. because with each consecutive loss the pain swallows me up that much more, takes that much more away from me. i know i’m not at my breaking point right now, obviously i’m not ready to be “done” but i’m teetering on the edge and i’m certain i could go in either direction depending on the wind.

and i can’t bear the question anymore.

“so when are you going to have another?”

hey everyone… PSA. don’t say that to any woman on earth ever again. because you may have no idea the literal hell she may be going through. maybe she can’t ever GET pregnant. maybe she can only lose her babies. maybe she just lost her child this week. and here you are with your nosy and VERY personal words grinding jagged salt in her open wound.

“when they stop dying in my uterus.”

i really told people that. more than once. that would shut them up real quick. i didn’t care how i came across. i was bitter. and hurt. and still am. it STILL hurts. you don’t get to forget that kind of pain. i’m nicer about it now though, i think? i smile awkwardly and shift the conversation to how busy amazing son keeps me /i can’t possibly think of taking on more challenges right now/we haven’t even thought about that. then i force a high-pitched laugh and as i walk away i side-eye the shit out of them. hey nosy stranger, thanks for reminding me i’m failing at the most basic human skill here.  so take my advice people, don’t even go there. for everyone’s sake.

with this cycle about to begin, knowing it is most likely my last shot in hell, i have to avoid thinking about the very real possibility that i may never have another child. someone please tell me how to do this. it is incredibly hard. because i’ve got to get my game face on. start the positive mental attitude self-talk. meditate. levitate. get hypnotized. mesmerized. acupunctured. drink the punch. whatever it takes. let’s do this.

a different twist

someone told me, a while ago, that i should really pursue this “writing thing.” after i caught my breath from the riotous laughter that naturally ensued, i filed that suggestion away in my mind’s tiny little file cabinet. i dropped it in, waaaaaay in the back, you know, on the bottom drawer among the discarded cobwebbed file holders. some days or weeks later, again the comment. this time from someone new. cue laughter (mine of course), mental typewritten message to pursue writing, drop it it, shut door. weeks later, again. rinse, repeat.

so today i decided to open the drawer.

to date, this blog has focused on my journey battling secondary infertility, coping with my miscarriages, and let’s not forget my failed fertility attempts. seriously good times, i know. i am shocked anyone continues to read these my posts, week after week. and then to suggest i should write more pretty much blew my socks off. i think the monotony of depressing posts following depressing posts would make readers tire easily of me, if i continued to write solely of my journey. i would’ve already quit reading about me months ago! seriously. and the nature of this infertility struggle and fertility treatments is one of tireless waiting, inevitable delays, and then more waiting.

so in the interim, between dildo cam visits and endless waiting to synchronize cycles and hormones and all that science-y stuff, i thought it would be good to bring something positive to the table. something light-hearted. and from the heart of my very light source… amazing son.

right now he is at an age of unending discovery, independence and curiosity. read: incessantly asking “why?” and insisting on “NO, i do it by myself!” and it’s only fair that you should have to hear some of it too. toddlers are weird. like funny, adorable little drunk adults spewing their warped toddler logic while simultaneously making demands like terrorists. you need not hear the consequence should you refuse their demands as you are well-versed in their weapon of choice: stage 5 meltdown. i know you know that one, you don’t need to have kids to recognize the stage 5 meltdown. but we’ll save that for another day. so most of the time i find myself grinding my teeth throughout the day with all this curiosity of his and justifying a reason to start drinking at 1:12pm. don’t judge, that’s almost 5 o’clock in NYC. but occasionally he will say/do something that makes me roll on the floor with laughter and remind me that i should re-think the idea of giving him away. kidding.

with that said, ladies and gentlemen, (wait, are there any gentlemen reading this?) i give you “whimsical whisperings” straight from the mouth of babes, or in this case, amazing son.

whimsical whisperings – “favorite part of the day”


sunday had been an amazing day spent as as family. the weather was unseasonably warm for february, sunny in the high 70’s. thanks global warming! toddler was in the best mood and we knew we needed to maximize that as long as possible. we hit the beach early to soak up the sun and frolic in the sand. amazing son made new friends with “cool new scoopers” (a.k.a. backhoe loaders, don’t ask me how i know that) and actually shared his toys. hours of fun later and a long restful nap we popped popcorn and cuddled on the couch with a movie. popcorn is like gold to amazing son, he will cut off his arm for it. toddler was miraculously still in good spirits which meant more fun family time and soon enough it was dinner. amazing husband cooked up delicious BBQ meats and fresh carrots from the garden. sitting at the table the three of us discussed how great the day had been and asked each other what had been our favorite part of the day.

amazing husband: “my favorite part of today was going to the beach. we hadn’t been in a long time!”

me: “i really liked cuddling on the couch and eating popcorn.” [turning to toddler] “what was your favorite part of today?”

amazing son squished his face up in concern. could it have been playing in the ocean? it probably was having new toys to play with. or maybe the popcorn, the kid is obsessed with it. i smiled at amazing husband, and we mentally and silently agreed today was simply wonderful. we gazed longingly at amazing son who stared at his plate of food, deep in thought as we asked again: “what was your favorite part of the day?”

“um… milk.”

aaaaaaand scene.