my butterfly

“There’s always some reason
To feel not good enough
And it’s hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
Let me be empty
Oh and weightless and maybe

I’ll find some peace tonight”


HCG was 4.

goodbye sweet butterfly. 

wait for it

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this. happened. squeeze your eyes nearly shut. turn your head to your right 38 degrees and then tilt the computer screen backwards 23 degrees. angle it facing SSW and you will see the faintest of faint line next to the insanely dark control line on that pee stick. *note: there must be a breeze of no more than 8mph blowing in a northwestern direction for this to be viewed with the naked eye.

wait for it.

today i am pregnant.

you read that right.

you may not see that line. that’s okay. it’s there. i promise. for all my pee-pushing trying-to-conceive infertility veterans, our eyes are trained to detect pee stick lines more than any other person on earth. and rightly so. sheer experience. over the last 2 years i’ve probably bought over 100 home pregnancy tests. yes, you read that right. or sheer compulsion. to pee, that is. on ANYTHING and everything. if it resembles a pee stick, i’m peeing on it. in fact, there have been times when friends have told me to stop stocking them in the house, because GDit i WILL pee on it no matter how inappropriate it is (i.e. peeing on it 5 days post ovulation [dpo] when no way in hell could a baby even have implanted yet,… read: i am insane.)

my motto is: i have to know AS SOON AS I POSSIBLY CAN KNOW. i never understood those women who can wait until their period is late. whaaaaat? who does that??? but i’ve never had the luxury of a surprise pregnancy. every single one of the 5 has been planned, analyzed, some medicated, lab work, ultrasounds. so when i can know if i’m jumping back on that rollercoaster ride, i need to KNOW. after my ectopic, you can’t mess around with pregnancies. because the $64,000 question will always be “WHERE is this baby growing?” and until you can figure that out, no one breathes a damn breath. so you HAVE to know as soon as you CAN know.

and that brings us to this. wait for it.

that pee stick. with the faintest of faint line next to the dark control line. that pee stick registered a positive result on friday (11dpo). so naturally, i peed on every GD stick i had in the house. 4 different brands as a matter of fact, to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. because that shit happens sometimes, stupid false positives.

it was the real deal holyfield.

HOLY SHIT. but that line, that line is awful. it’s nearly non-existent.  so i pee’d on ALL the sticks the next day (12dpo). again, same ugly faint line. no darker. uh oh. sunday, pee, analyze stick. same ugly line. no darker. MFer. this is not looking good. monday.  rinse, repeat. no darker. should’ve started my period. nope. called magician. reported the weekend events. went for bloodwork to test HCG level (the hormone released by a growing fetus).

general medical consensus is that an HCG level must be greater than 5 to be considered “pregnant.” Most pregnancy tests can guarantee to detect HCG at a level of 25 or higher. Some are WAY more sensitive. when i had my ectopic, i got positive pregnancy tests with a level of 7. but even THOSE pee sticks had darker lines than these ones.

wait for it.

saw magician in office today. “your HCG level is 9.”

today i am pregnant. but this is bad. that number should be at least in the 20’s.

“we need to do more blood work in a few days to follow this HCG level. if it’s going down, than we know it is a chemical pregnancy (read: not viable). if it’s going up we need to keep following it, with concern for another ectopic.”

fuck.

wait for it.

the rug.

under my feet.

it’s already being pulled from beneath me.

someone, anyone, please, let me off this roller coaster. i want a refund. i want a do-over. this can’t be happening again.

luck of the irish?

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march is my favorite month.

let me count the ways: amazing son was born in march. this is him is at his 3rd birthday party, 10 lollipops in and no stopping him. why else do i love march… um, st. patrick’s day. these freckles go ape for Irish Awareness Day. love me some day drinking too ssshhhh. when i was younger of course. march madness. no, scratch that, i hate watching basketball. especially watching husband watch basketball. that is the worst.

i really love march, mostly because it signals the end of winter (even Punxsutawney Phil can’t stop it) and the beginning of spring, flowers, sunshine. clear skies. and this year we are really seeing the weather change now that march is in town (east coasters you may want to put on your ear muffs right about now). the other day it was freaking 90 degrees here. NINETY. nine zero. in march. no, i don’t live in the desert. nor in Africa. in fact i am within walking distance to the beach. it should never be 90 here, though. never. ever. thanks global warming! but to be totally honest i had no qualms about packing away the jeans and jackets and busting out the bikini.

but i digress. squirrel!  i think i was talking about march.

march is awesome, and at the same time march sucks serious ass. last year i spent some of march in the hospital losing a baby and some important reproductive organs. before that, march took from us the patriarch of amazing husband’s family, who was born on st. patrick’s day no less. and even a few march’s before that, this month brought amazing husband and myself our first pregnancy. which we lost.

march is bittersweet for me. each year that we celebrate amazing son’s birthday it hits me that my little baby boy is more and more a distant memory, that there is now a grown child standing before me. and no matter how much my heart bursts with pride and awe, watching him grow into a funny little character, i cannot help but yearn for those days when i could hold him in my arms (without breaking my back) and rock him to sleep. my mind wanders… will i ever have those days again? and then the regret surfaces. i regret not taking the time THEN to stop and truly smell the roses. i thought i WAS stopping. but i should’ve spent more time in the present. i wish i sat longer in the rocking chair, my arms numb and tingling from holding him in one position, just drinking him in. those little things, those are what i miss terribly. had i known then what would lie ahead, i would’ve spent more time soaking him up. hindsight is a bitch.

my mind wanders more… have i been wasting the last 2 years, totally distracted, taking my energy away from HIM while trying to give him a sibling? will i look back 2 years from now and pine for these very days? the future regret is even more anxiety-provoking than the one i struggle with now. these are my constant battles, the what ifs and coulda woulda shouldas.

oh march. i’m glad you’re here but can you hurry up and bring april please. or if you’re going to lollygag, can you sprinkle some leprechaun dust my way? i’m 4 days away from peeing on all the sticks and this Irish lass is down on her luck.

not so eggcited

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this guy is eggcited.

see what i did there? despite what his face says, he is eggstatic. again, i am hilarious. i swear he is thrilled in that picture. we were perusing the aisles today and easter decorations were out in full force (you know, because we haven’t even celebrated St. Patty’s Day yet but don’t get me started) and he started screaming “YEASTER EGGS!!!!” and 0.5 seconds later was vaulting over the cart to “see them” with his hands. he was paralyzed with enthusiasm. i too get excited over eggs, but not the kind filled with candies and chocolate. i prefer those that make tiny squishy humans. but there was no eggcitement on my end today. today i am paralyzed with frustration.

saw magician yesterday to see how the horses were running. we had been suspicious that one horse had left the gate early but wanted to try some stimulation meds to see if the whole pack could get running… houston, this is ovaries, over. we have visual confirmation. horse is running wild. abort mission, abort mission.

f*ck. my body can’t even PREP for infertility treatments correctly. what the hell, body. that’s TWICE now a horse has taken off despite increased doses of hormones that should actually paralyze the horse. it’s one thing to fail, and put your head down and work hard to succeed. throw everything at it and eventually your hard work pays off. and then it’s on a whole different level to FAIL at failing.

leave it to me to achieve that.

so here i am again, failing at failing to bear a child. in fact, i’m in a worse boat this time around compared to last time. it’s not even worth trying IUI since i have only 1 lousy follie. one rogue egg. after stabbing myself with thousands of dollars of medications… i get one follie. and it can’t even follow directions. apparently lady luck is housesitting somewhere else. so where does that leave me? well, we will just “try naturally” this cycle and i am going to have a plumber take a look at the pipes again. it’s called an HSG (hysterosalpingogram). it is just as fun as it sounds. said no uterus, ever. i had one done back in May last year and i cried through the whole thing, it’s quite uncomfortable. it involves straws and plungers and x-rays, and lots and lots of cramping. wait, why do i want to subject myself to this??

because i like torture? well, i want to ensure that my one remaining jacked up tube is, in fact, open and able to pick up the egg from my ovary. i worry that it’s not functioning. the previous HSG said that my tube was constricted at the tail-end and just the teensiest bit of dye (contrast) was able to jettison through the tube and spill into my abdomen. but we have not been able to even GET pregnant in 7 months. 7 months of trying and still nothing. as that may sound ridiculous and baby-greedy, let me remind you that GETTING pregnant was never the problem. it was keeping the pregnancy that i sucked at. now it appears we are dealing with all of the above. so i can’t help but think something has changed. and i can’t spend one more ounce of energy, time, emotion and money on treatments like IUI or “trying naturally” if the plumbing is clogged. it would be entirely futile. so i’m willing to gut it out to get some peace of mind. i could use some good news.

so Easter, chill out for a bit, i’m trying to siphon some luck of the Irish here.