10 Weeks & NIAW

(another mostly baby related post, but NIAW thoughts at the bottom)

My sweet boy is ten weeks old today.  I almost can't remember what it was like not to have him, and yet every day I am pinching myself that he is really part of our family.  

The transition back to work has been challenging.  I am sad that I had to come back so soon.  I honestly expected to still be home since we would have had two babies by now, and two 6 weeks of paid time.  I am sad that the circumstances meant I had to return when he was only 8 weeks old, but I am so happy that summer vacation is around the corner.  We're slowly adjusting our lives, and I am honestly exhausted.  We are so fortunate to work opposite schedules that allows Quinn to be with one of us at all times.  However, that means that we are almost always alone with him, so there isn't much down time. 

I get up with him in the morning- sometimes at 4 am (like this morning) and sometimes he lets me get ready for work before he wakes at 6 am.  I am out the door by 7, and he is in daddy's hands for the day.  He gives daddy at least two long naps during the day.  Chris takes him to the pool with him around 3, and I pick him up from there.  Sometimes its a quick hand off in the parking lot, and other times he gets a few moments with the kids at the pool.  I have some cuddle time and then make dinner while he chills in his bouncy seat in the kitchen.  This week he has really started to look at the lights and rattles on his bouncy.  He usually only takes short cat naps for me and I try to do a few chores each night in those rare moments.  Daddy gets home around 9:45 and eats his dinner.  I get him ready for bed, and then he gets some quality time with Chris when I head to bed around 10:30.  He usually goes down for the night somewhere between 10:15 and 11:00 and sleeps through to 4 or 6 in the morning.   We do it all over again each day. 

On Monday we went to see my good friend and coworker and her daughter.  It was nice enough out that we went for a walk with the babies.  It was nice to have some time with her.  It took us so long to become parents, that I honestly wondered if I was ever going to have friends with kids the same age.  I feel so lucky to have two coworkers and friends with little ones within weeks of Quinn.  He is the oldest of the bunch.  Miss Isabel is 7 weeks younger- so she is three weeks old today.  She is quite the dainty little thing and perfect in every way.  Here are the two of them together...

I still have to write out how things have fallen with M.  I need to share with all of you, and I need to document it here so that I have it.  I promise to get to that soon.  We're still heartbroken, and angry with the way that things went down.  We knew that we were taking a financial risk with the situation, and will hopefully be able to recoup most of our expenses through the adoption tax credit over the next few years.  Our attorney is working with us to be able to claim both adoptions- even though one is considered a "failed" placement.  M did reach out to Chris earlier this week telling us that she is sorry and that she still is committed to the adoption plan.  We're not sure what that really means, but we know that the father is in the picture now.  We are NOT hopeful that this will end up with an adoptive placement after all.  We are realistic, and given the way things have happened, we aren't even really sure that we would accept a placement at this time.  We don't expect her to contact us again.  We know that she is in crisis, and sees us as a life preserver.  We know that she is struggling, but we still don't know any details about the baby and if he is in fact with her.  We believe he is in her custody.  Our hearts ache for that little baby, and wish that we could have the peace of knowing he is going to be ok.  But the reality is that we may never know.

Thank you for your support and kindness towards us.  We are good.  We are sad and heartbroken over M, but we are full of light and joy with our little man.  As I have said before, it all doesn't make sense, and I don't think it ever will.  However, looking into my sweet boy's face makes it all worth it. 

It's National Infertility Awareness Week, and I feel that I haven't acknowledged that in a way that I usually do.  It's hard being in this limbo place.  I am infertile.  I always will be.  The scars and deep and painful.  I won't ever know the joy of bringing life into the world.  I will always wonder what a child that shares our DNA looks like.  I will always grieve for the babies that we've lost over the years.  And yet, I have the most perfect miracle in my arms.  I'll never know why it took 13 years to know the feeling of loving a child, but that love is intense and real.  It's deep and powerful.  I've been blessed by the gift of a complete stranger who has entrusted me with the life of her child.  She has trusted us to raise him to be the man she hopes he will become.  That's powerful and overwhelming all at once.  My hope is that I can funnel all of the pain and anger of infertility into becoming the parent Quinn needs me to be.  It's a tough shift.  I've defined myself by my infertility for so long, that it is hard to define myself as a parent.  I think it's a gradual shift one day at a time....

Loss and Peace- one year later

As I drove home in the first real blizzard of the year, I realized that one year ago we said goodbye to yet another miracle not meant to be.  It's been a year since my D&C.  It took me all day to realize, and I suppose that means that I am in a good place right now.  We're starting to heal and we have the hope that our tiny miracle will finally be in our arms.... very soon.  But for a moment, my breath caught in my throat as I remembered.  I remembered about the pain of that loss, and how heavy it felt in my heart.  The pain came to the surface for a moment and felt so real and raw again.  And then it simmered down into a dull ache, and eventually was tucked back into my soul.

Today I feel like I can see the light, but I also carry the burden on those many dark days.  We're close to our rainbow- our happy ever after.  I have a crib set up in my house for goodness sakes... we're so close we can almost feel it.  But it's moments like the one I had today that remind me where we came from and cause me to hold my breath just a little.  I am going to be brutally honest here (not like that's something new...) and say that I really don't know what will happen if for some reason we don't end up with our little miracle from M.  I don't know that we will be able to handle the heartbreak again.  I don't know that our hearts and souls and bodies can withstand another loss.  I've hesitated to put this in writing in fear of jinxing it, but I feel that I need to.  I need to write it out. 

I am freaking terrified.  I don't know that I am strong enough to handle more loss.

And yet I feel a sense of peace that I haven't felt in years.

Hoping that peace wins out this time. 

The should have baby

It's been some time since I thought about the pregnancy we lost in February.  The pain is so raw and deep at first with a miscarriage but time does have a way of making the pain fade.  It's always there and it becomes part of who you are, but it isn't in your face like it is in those first few days.  But there are moments when it comes back with that same intensity that you first felt- be it weeks, months, or even years later. 

Today I had one of those moments.  Our good friends had their fourth baby today.  She is a healthy addition to their family.  I found myself drawn to FB waiting to hear that the baby had made her arrival.  I knew our friend was having a c-section today and that their newest little one would come into this world at some point today.  I couldn't figure out why I was so drawn to this birthday.  And then I remembered.... Jen found out she was pregnant when we did.  They waited to tell us until after the D&C.  That sounds worse than it really was- they wanted to be sensitive to what we were going through but knew it was going to be out there and wanted us to know.  I found out while I was in North Carolina during spring break, so it wasn't right after our D&C.

But here's the realization I had today.  We should have had our baby by now.  The baby that we could have brought into this world if I hadn't had the third miscarriage.  I don't know what the exact due date would have been, but it would have been before now.  With the first miscarriage, I was very in tune with it all and thought about it often.  With the second miscarriage, I never had the sense of hope that there could have been a happy ending.  The third was so much of a surprise from the start with tiny bursts of hope thrown in.  I think that's why this date has hit me like this... it's like a little bubble burst and I had the realization that we should have also been having the experience of becoming parents through the miracle of birth.

I think it also hit me today- I mean really hit home- that we will never experience going to the hospital to give birth.  We'll never know what that experience is like.  We'll never pack a hospital bag and have a plan to tell those we love that we've welcomed life into this world.   We'll never go through that "right of passage" that is such a part of becoming an adult.  And I don't know how I will ever come to terms with that realization. 

Our life is full, and I am so lucky to share my life with a man who makes my every breath matter.  I am so lucky to have a marriage built on memories of growing up together.  My marriage is stronger despite as a result of 12 years of infertility and loss.  We are happy and most of my days are full of joy and laughter.  It the joy that keeps me moving forward.  And that's all I can do. 

Three

Did anyone else grow up hearing that things happen in threes?  I grew up hearing that death, major events, and births happen in threes.  Interestingly, that is usually the case. 

You know where this is going, right?

I now have three coworkers that are pregnant and all due within a month of each other.  The third teacher came to me today.  She happens to be a good friend and one of the teachers I share a room with in my new role.  She was afraid to tell me... just as every person close to me has been.  She also knows of our struggle, and like my other close friend, started "trying" right away because she knew that it could take time.  She and my other friend were married a day apart... in June... June 2012.  Which means they BOTH got pregnant the first month they tried following getting married.  I spent the early summer working on things for their weddings. 

The other coworker is expecting her second child.  She has a two year old already.  She suffers from PCOS, but is one of the lucky ones I guess...  But it's the other two that are weighing heavily on my heart tonight.

I wonder if there will ever be a time that my heart doesn't break with a pregnancy announcement.  I think these sting a little more because they both started trying right away because of my struggle- knowing that it doesn't work for some people.  Yet, they both got very lucky.  They both know just how lucky they are, and for that I am grateful.  They both shared with me how much they treasure the gift that they have been given.  And they both get it... at least for now.  Talk to me in a few months when they are both showing and it might be another story all together.

I can't help but have a little pity party tonight.  We're still waiting.  We're still hoping.  We're trying to live each day and believe that in the end all of this will be worth it.  My heart is breaking tonight.  I just don't understand why we have to watch all of those around us become parents while we want nothing more than to have the chance.  While I know that all of this is not related, but part of me has to wonder why these other women (who are amazing people and will be amazing mothers) have been given the gift that I so desperately yearn for.  Why aren't I good enough to become a mom?  Why can't my body carry a pregnancy?  Why can't a woman choose us to become the parents to her child? 

You would think that after all these years it would get easier.  In some ways it is easier- I was able to smile and ask all the right questions when my coworker told me today.  She knew the story of the coworker who did it all wrong- and wanted to make sure I knew long before it was out.  I was able to keep it together and not shed a tear at work until I had a private moment to call Chris.  So I suppose in some ways it is easier- or maybe I just have developed an armor. 

Of course today is CD#1... and it is a doozy- heavy and crampy.  I really just wanted to curl up into a ball today.  But I survived a full day of work and made it home in one piece. That's probably the bottom line... I am a survivor. 

***CAUTION***

I fell like  a walking, talking, breathing,  CAUTION sign.  I like to imagine that there are flashing neon lights involved with said sign.  I know I've wrote about this before, but the latest announcement has brought me to a new level of thinking on this topic. 

I am the worst case scenario for many women.  I am the woman that people- both fertile and non-fertile think to themselves, "at least I'm not her"  And I am not saying this to be melodramatic- it's the realization that I have come to.  Let's be honest here.  I've fallen into the veteran, wrong side of the statistics category for many years now.  The thing is- while I am obviously a little bitter about all we've endured, the fact that I am "thank god I'm not her" girl is what is bringing me to the brink right now.

In so many ways, I have followed the rules and lived the good life.  Sure, I married young, but I was in love and was close to finishing college.  We made some bad financial decisions in our early married years, but we've made good on that now.  I have a good career working in a human service field- working with challenging kids.  I have good friends who have supported me through it all. 

But I know so many of them are so very thankful that they aren't in my shoes.  I am now at a point that every.single.one of my closest friends is either pregnant or parenting.  Now, several of them have gone into the ttc world full force- because they KNOW.  They know what the worst case looks like, and by god, the are going to do what they can not to end up like me.  They start trying as soon as they can.  They move to specialists early on.  They get second opinions.

And you know why? Because I have shared my experience.  I've always been very open about all we've been through.  I've felt it was my responsibility to educate my friends.  God knows I don't want to wish my fate on ANYONE- especially those who I care so much about.  So in all reality, I built this neon flashing CAUTION sign all by myself.

I have so many mixed feelings on this.  Holding this giant CAUTION sign is weighing heavy on my heart and soul.  I also feel a sense of pride in that I have been able to serve as a warning for friends- and that so many of them have been blessed with pregnancies and children.  That giant CAUTION sign has done its job.

Tonight I will be joining my closest coworkers for a girls night hosted by the friend mentioned in the last post.  She is planning to tell our fellow coworkers tonight.  I was torn about what to do to protect myself, and in the end I called one of the other girls who will be there tonight too. While I know it wasn't my news to share, I knew that she would understand.  She's the friend who got pregnant on her first IUI and we danced around it for months.  When I told her, I could feel the sting she felt with our friend's quick pregnancy too.  I am feeling a little guilty about telling her, but think that she also needed time to absorb the news.  I am thankful to have an "ally" when the news is shared tonight.  One of my fears is that people will act strangely around me when the news is out.  I've said this before, I think one of the most painful parts of long time infertility is the pity parade you get.  I'm just not in the mood for a parade tonight!

So I am off with my giant CAUTION sign to spend time with the girls I adore and hope that the awkwardness is minimal.  There's always copious amounts of wine to make it all feel much less awkward, right? 

July ICLW

I was not a good June ILCW girl.  I promise to make it up this month.  Last month we were at the Olympic Swimming Trials, so we were just a tad busy.  This time I am home and DH is crazy busy with swimming- this time closer to home.  I should have plenty of time to read and comment this time! :)

For those of you new here, Dh and I are infertility veterans... we've been at this for more than 12 years.  We've been through the motions of treatment- even at the best clinic in the country.  I'm a PCOS gal, but that is under control.  We're in the unexplained category officially.  For some unknown reason, my body decided to figure out how to get pregnant on its own in the last two years but can't seem to figure out holding onto to a pregnancy past 10 weeks.  We've had three miscarriages in the past 18 months.  You can see the nitty gritty on the timeline tab above.  We've closed the pregnancy chapter of our lives and are very excited about building our family through domestic infant adoption.

We are homestudy approved and waiting to be matched.  We've been an  active waiting family for just over 9 months or so.  We are using an attorney and are doing our own marketing.  It's been an adventure and we're learning as we go.  We've recently created a youtube video and started working with adoptimist.com 

I am a middle school teacher- but recently took a new position as a technology integration specialist for our middle school and elementary school.  I am very excited about this new position and the challenges it brings.  DH is a swim coach and we are VERY excited about the Olympics.  Chris actually coached one of the swimmers when he was in high school! 

I have a little card making venture that helps to offest our adoption marketing costs.  You can see my creations in the side bar or by clicking here.  I am a creative soul and my creative endeavors have kept me sane during our adventures with infertility. 


That's the cliff note version of my life...

Looking forward to ICLW this week!

Losing Trust- Update at bottom

Infertility has shaped the woman I am today.  It has been  a constant in my life for the past 12 years and I am coming to the realization that it will always be a part of who I am.  I've heard from those who have crossed over that it does become less of who you are, but that it is always there.  Adding in our recurrent pregnancy loss of the past 18 months has added another layer that weighs me down.  There are days that it is really just a heavy burden that I wish I could collapse under.  But I am strong, and I continue to get stronger each day- because that is the only choice I have.  My drive to become a mother and see my husband blossom as a father carries me through.  However, there are days that its just so heavy that I don't know how I will continue to move forward.  It's one of those days today, and I feel like I need to just take a little rest.

Of the many things that infertility and RPL have taken from me, the one that hurts the most is the loss of trust in my body.  I'm not really talking about body image- that's another post all together.  I'm talking about being able to trust my body to do what it is supposed to do.   Trust in my intuition and the signs my body gives.  Spending years as an infertility survivor makes you acutely aware of your body in a way that many women never really get to experience.  I know where my ovaries are- I mean really know and can feel them when they are full of cysts or ready to ovulate.  I am so in tune with the symptoms of pregnancy.  I've felt them too many times over the past two years.  I know how my body changes in the early days of a pregnancy.  I know how it feels when a pregnancy ends too soon.

But then I wonder if my body and mind are truly in sync.  Am I really feeling things?  Or is it my mind playing tricks on me?  Has all of this loss and struggle caused me to lose my mind?  It has gotten to the point that I don't even verbalize many of this to anyone- I'm afraid that people will think I've lost my mind.  Those closest to me don't even know what to say anymore.  They've said "I'm sorry" more times than any person should have to.

For the past two weeks, I've felt something.  I am terrified that I might be pregnant and miscarrying again.  But then I question myself and wonder if I am just programmed to think this.  It's been all I've known for the past two years and it's about "time" for me to go through this again.  I had many of the same symptoms I've had before.  I actually even had a strong AF start while we were in Omaha.  So I thought I could finally put things to rest and move on.  I didn't test and I enjoyed adult beverages.

But there's been a nagging sense of something.  My gums have been really swollen- which was a tell tale sign in the past.  I'm crying at the drop of a hat and can fall asleep just about any time.  The girls seem swollen.  My sense of smell is ridiculous.  This morning I woke up with cramps again.  AF has been long gone.  But this was the path that things went down last summer- I had what I thought was AF and then a week later I started bleeding again.  I tested and learned that I was pregnant and miscarrying all at once.

I feel silly.  Surely, this is all in my mind.  I have tests in the house, but I feel silly using them.  And if I use them and get a positive- then what?  There's no way that this is going to end well.  I suppose I will test- maybe tomorrow just to put my mind at ease.  What's the cost of another pregnancy test at this point, right?

I hate this.  I hate that I can't trust my body.  I hate that I can't trust my mind.  I hate that I can't trust myself.

Update:

Tested this AM with digital.  Clearly NOT PREGNANT.  Feeling relief but also wondering if it was in fact another really early m/c.  Ugh!  Thankful that I don't have to endure months of beta hell like I did last summer.  Thanks for all of your sweet comments!

CD 1...again

Today marks CD1.  The second AF since the D & C.  A remarkably normal 34 day cycle.  (As normal as a PCOS gal can ask for)

So now what?  We were told that we needed to wait at least two cycles before "trying" again.  We also know that our last miscarriage was of a genetically normal fetus.  I've been taking the CCRM "sucky egg" cocktail of supplements for two months now. 

I've sent off an email to my beloved CCRM nurse.  I have the name of a local RPL specialist and need to make a call to get a consult with her office.  I need to call our adoption attorney.  We haven't had any calls from her in more than a month. 

I've had another really hard week at work.  My one very challenging student had a really rough day.  I've had 9 IEP meetings in the last two weeks and all the paperwork to go along with that.

I feel like I am in a hamster wheel.  The scenery never changes.  I work my ass off going in circles and in the end... I am right where I started.

It really all comes back to...

CD1 again,

Tired of being "Normal"

After leaving yet another message with the office staff at the OB, I finally got a call back from the OB himself this afternoon.  Honestly, I really like him as a doctor.  He has always been kind and straight forward with me.  It's the rest of the staff at the office that I can do without.

He apologized for not getting back to me sooner.  They've changed to electronic records and he hasn't quite embraced it.  He was expecting a written report for the lab, and it simply "appeared" in my file without him realizing it.  Who knows how long it's been there.

The fetus was completely genetically NORMAL.  46 perfect chromosomes.

My heart sank when he told me.  I was so hoping that it was just bad genetic luck.  Nope, another completely normal fetus that my body has not allowed to thrive and grow.  It's not just "meant to be" due to some horrible chromosomal anomoly.  It's my body killing off perfectly normal embryos.  Guess that throws out Dr Sch theory that the first m/c was due to the no-result embryo being the one that implanted.

The OB was kind and told me that he too, had hoped that we would learn that it was a genetic issue.  He also was honest and said that there really was nothing more he could do to help us.  He said he was more than willing to support me in anything I needed going forward, but that he was not comfortable taking the lead on my case.  He said I was "unusual" and needed to work with a specialist.  He couldn't think of anyone locally that specializes in RPL, and even shared that he doesn't think that anyone in the field really understands RPL.

So- where do we go from here?  Chris is willing to consult with another doctor, as long as it doesn't cost more than what we can afford without impacting our adoption fund.  I agree.  If only we'd won the megamillions- even just a few numbers!  It seems really foolish however, to attempt any additional treatment without knowing anything about what is now causing my RPL.  He is willing to get a consult with Dr. Kwak- Kim since she is local to us anyway.  I suppose it can't hurt to at least find out what her thoughts are on it all.  I'm also sending off an email to my beloved CCRM nurse to get her thoughts.  I'll keep taking the supplements.  None of them can hurt me- and they all have good "life" effects other than egg quality.   I wish we had someone that would volunteer to be a surrogate for us- someone we know and love.  But that just doesn't seem to be in the cards either.

I dreamed last night that we had finally adopted a baby boy.  It was one of those dreams that was so real and vivid that it seemed real.  I woke up sad when I realized it had really just been a dream.  My dear sweet Patches was also in my dream, alive and well playing with the baby.  We were also surrounded by others who had adopted- but all of them were same sex couples.  Not sure what that part of my dream means.  I wish I felt that this all was a "sign" but I just don't buy into that anymore.

Our homestudy expires two weeks from tomorrow.  It's been a full year since we completed the process.  We went active with our attorney in September- so it's been more than 6 months that we've been actively trying to adopt.  We'll just have to update things for our homestudy and of course pay another fee but it isn't nearly the process it was the first time.  I was so hopeful that we'd finally get lucky and not need to update our homestudy- we'd be matched quickly.  But it looks as if our adoption path is going to head the same way our treatment path went.

I hate being in this dark place.  I don't want to feel this desperation that I am feeling right now.  Becoming a mother has been my goal for so long.  Please, pretty please, universe- let it all be worth it.

Baby Lust

I've recently discovered this term.  Yes, I know it's been out there for a long time.  But it just seems to be fitting with where I am at right now.  I am totally feeling baby lust.

Now, let's be honest.  I've been trying to have a baby for more than a decade now.  I've injected god knows what into all parts of my body, endured multiple surgeries, flown across the country four times, and witnessed the + sign on the HPT only to have it ripped away three times in the past 18 months.  Clearly, having a baby has been a driving focus in my life.  I've put my life on hold in more than one way waiting for the day we are finally called parents.

However, there is just this sense of urgency that is building with me lately.  At first I was turned off (pun intended) with the term baby lust.  Lust feels like a dirty word- but if you take out the connotation, it really does seem to fit.  Much like a teenage boy thinks about s*x every moment of the day, I find myself dreaming about babies at the most bizarre moments.

The idea creeps into my daily routines.  Daydreaming about the day I finally hold my baby in my arms is the first thing I do in the morning, and the last thing I do before I drift off to sleep.  The phone rings and I pray that it's our attorney calling to let us know about a situation... the situation that is finally meant to bring us to our forever child.  Every single time I open my email, I hold my breath in hopes that there will be an email from our agency or another person giving us a lead that will bring us to our forever child.  I literally feel a hole in my chest just writing about it now.  I am so ready.  Chris is so ready.  We are so ready.  When will it finally be our turn?  When will we finally hold our forever child in our arms?

I called the OB today and had to leave a message with the moron receptionist.  I had to repeat three times that I had a d&c and needed the testing results.  At one point I considered saying, "I need to find out if the dead fetus removed from my uterus was chromosomally normal or if perhaps yet again my body killed the fetus due to some unknown issue."  I refrained from that statement, but given the opportunity I might just say that if I have to call back.  It is now after 6:00pm and I have not received a call back.  Not a call from the OB, not a call from the nurse.  No flipping call.  It's been more than the 8 weeks which was supposed to be the longest the results would take.  And the OB assured me he would call me as soon as he had results.  These results are HUGE.  I don't think anyone in the office really cares.  I need to know if this was just another case of bad genetic luck, or if it is really time to admit that I will never be able to carry a child.

We need to make some decisions going forward once we get this information.  I am 150% committed to our adoption plan.  I know that our child was meant to find us.  But I need to know if I should consider going on BCP to prevent another pregnancy that will end once my hostile uterus gets involved.  Nobody can tell me why we can't get pregnant and stay pregnant.  I know in my heart that there is NO way I can emotionally, physically, or spiritually handle a fourth miscarriage.  But if we learn that there is a chance that we just had some bad luck in the genetics department, I am willing to let nature do its thing.  (I know that we can once again have bad luck that ends up in m/c- I am 37 with PCOS, I get that...)

I've been taking the supplements for a month, and all in all feel pretty good.  I am 99% sure I'm ovulating right now.  It goes against every bone in my body to avoid s&x at this point, but it's what has to happen.  I can't risk another doomed pregnancy so soon.  We were told to wait two cycles regardless, so we are really following what we were told still.  Given the current state of baby lust however, it is taking lots of will power.  And let's be clear- ten years of infertility and three miscarriages pretty much suck all of the "regular" kind of lust from your body. 

So for now, I am daydreaming of babies and imaginary nurseries.  Hoping that one day soon I won't have to dream and we will finally have our forever child in our arms.  And let's hope that someone from the OB office calls before I have to get ugly. 

Why I Blog...

First off, thank you for all of the comments on my last post.  Each and every one of them brought me a little more out of the fog and reminded me how much I truly value the support of the ALI community.  There are so many of you who have been with me all along this journey and some that are just joining in now.  There are those who don't read my blog any more for many reasons. 

Yesterday's post was stirred in part after reading a post written by Mel.  There is a hot controversy in the ALI blogging community right now, and the whole thing left me feeling a little more raw than I expected.  I am not going to chime in on the actual controversy.  I have my opinions on it all, but that's not what this is all about.  Reading the comments on her post and on the other blog left me feeling so sad and raw.  (I know I keep saying raw, but it really fits)  I was saddened to see that people were attacking each other and also that people didn't feel that they were being supported- regardless of where they were in their journey.  There was a serious divide between those who had "crossed over" and those who were still in the trenches.

Let's be honest.  I've seen lots of people cross over in the past twelve years.  I've tasted the other side and posted about BFP and u/s myself.  I've had moments where I just wanted to scream when reading about someone else's BFP or adoption.  But those moments have been completely overshadowed by the love and shear joy I've felt for so many of you.  And so many of you have shared in my joy and heartbreak.  You've shared my happiness and surrounded me in virtual hugs in my darkest moments.

I started blogging before it was even called blogging.  I kept an AOL journal- it was what all the cool kids were doing.  It started as a way for me document our journey.  Often this blog is a place where I can dump my thoughts and feelings about something.  Once I've written the post, I can move forward and process my feelings about the topic at hand.  In those early days it really was a one way conversation.  It wasn't about community and support then.

At some point, I started getting comments and started reading other blogs.  We started sharing our experiences.  We met on message boards and started following each other's blogs.  I was able to read and learn about other treatment options.  I became invested in so many of your stories, and I like to think that many of you are invested in my story.  I was also able to ask questions here on my blog and get so many responses from around the blogosphere.  At times when I felt alone and needed answers, I turned to this space and you all answered my call for help time and time again.

Chris' perception of the blog has also changed over time.  He used to resent that I kept this space.  He hated that I made our struggle so "public"  (Even though I was anonymous at the start)  Now I know that he has gone back and looked at our history to compare things.  I don't think he regularly reads the blog, but I do know that he has an occasion to check it out.  He's even told me to post questions here to get the wise advice from all of you.

So I started to really think about the issue at hand with the ALI community- trenches vs. crossed over.  But here's the thing- I don't feel that divide here.  I've felt the support from those of you who are parenting.  I hope you feel that I have continued to support you as well.  While I don't have much to add about discussions on cloth diapering or baby food, I can still say "hang in there" or "thinking of you"  And reading your blogs gives me hope.  I know where many of you have come from.  I hope with all my heart that I will someday have something to add to the conversation.

Each step of my journey (and danm, it's been long and winding) I've felt the pull to support those who are just starting on the path and share the knowledge I've gained from experience.  And I've also felt the pull to read and share in those who are further on this path than I am.  At times that was reading about what it meant to do IVF, and then doing IVF across the country, and now parenting and adoption.

It's never been about the numbers.  While I love and cherish each and every comment- especially on posts like the one yesterday, I don't blog to get readers or to have people comment.  I blog for myself to share my journey.  I blog to be part of a community- one of mutual support.  So after taking some time to process and then reading the love you all left yesterday, I am not feeling so raw.  I am feeling wrapped in support.  And I am going to make an effort to share that support with others.

If you have a few extra moments, please take a moment to check out Mel's LFCA.  There are weekly posts that list bloggers needing some extra support.  I was the lucky recipient of support after our first miscarriage and can't explain how much the extra support meant to me.  Ever since I have tried to pay it forward to others who are also in need of support.

~~~~~~~

Today marks one month since our D&C.  We still have no results from the testing.  I don't want to go into all of that on this post, but I felt the need to at least "mark" this date here.  Planning to make a phone call to the OB tomorrow.  Also hoping to have them test my Vitamin D levels to see if that is an issue.  Just got an email from my nurse in Colorado who told me that they are testing everyone for Vitamin D deficiency now.  Interesting?

Lifting fog

I am starting to feel the fog lift.  I am starting to feel more human.   I feel more like myself than I have in two months.   There are still moments where I feel so very raw, but thankfully those moments are starting to become fewer and farther between.

I have lots of thoughts right now and blog post ideas in my head. There's a few hot button issues I'd like to write about.  But I don't think I have the strength to handle the unknown of comments if I posted about some of them. 

One of my biggest thoughts lately is about the length of time we've been in the trenches.  We're close to 12 years of TTC.  TWELVE YEARS... that's 3/4 of my married life.  While we had periods when we weren't actively in battle, we've been in the fight for the entire time.  Sure, we had breaks from treatment.  In all those years, I was ALWAYS trying to become a mom. 

We've been through so much.  And I don't want to enter the "pain olympics" but need to point out that we've had so much heartbreak and loss.  We're veterans of IF treatment.  We've failed at IVF multiple times.  We've had ectopic pregnancies and chemical pregnancies.  And then there's the THREE miscarriages in the last 15 months.  Seeing the heartbeat only to lose it two weeks later. 

As a veteran IF gal, the last thing I want is pity.  But that doesn't mean I can't have my own little pity party for a moment.  I want to scream from the top of the mountains "WHY ME????" and "PLEASE LET IT BE MY TURN!" I've done my time.  I didn't sign up for twelve years of active duty.  When can I finally retire from all of this?  When will we finally have the title of mom and dad?  Will I have to wave the white flag before we win the ultimate prize?

We're still waiting for the results from our D&C testing. We haven't heard anything on the adoption front in weeks.  I am just so damn tired of waiting and then being let down.  I am tired of being left behind time and time again.  I am tired of wondering if I will ever be able to be a full grown-up.  (I've always felt that I won't really be a grown up until I earn the title of mom)  I am tired of saving my pennies to afford adoption after we used all of our life savings on one final IVF. (That I don't regret...but that's another post)  I am tired of watching my husband play with other people's children and feeling the ache in my heart knowing that I can't give him that.  I am tired of feeling jealous of other people and their pregnancies- even those that are hard fought for.  I am tired of wondering if there is a reason I haven't become a mom- that I won't be a good parent and this is nature's way of telling me that. 

Thankfully these thoughts don't consume me all the time.  It's just the very raw moments. 

Please, pretty please universe... We've put in the time.  Please let all this thick fog be worth it.

Rewind... that darn H word

Mel posted earlier this week about the new Presidential Family portrait and the fact that the last one was taken two years ago.  She asked us all to reflect at where we were at two years ago.  I wish I hadn't looked. 

You see, two years ago we were full of HOPE.  You can read the post here.  I had just finished a month long drug protocol that had made me miserable, but we were so sure that it was the final piece to our IVF.  We learned that we had three normal blasts from our final IVF and were preparing to transfer them in January.  I was so sure that it was going to work.  I remember being so very hopeful for the first time in years.  Everything was falling nicely into place.  I was able to stomach the holidays because I was finally off the horrible drug, and I was so sure that it was going to be a final childless holiday.

For those of you who have read my blog for some time, you know how that all turned out.  If you'd like to refresh your memory- read this.  I came crashing down from my HOPE high really hard. 

But I've moved on, right? We're moving forward and healing from that negative and the devastating miscarriage that came months later after we transferred our final blasts.  We've closed that chapter of our life.  We're moving on and are actively trying to adopt.  We're hopeful again....

And that's where I slammed on the brakes.  Here I am, two years later, blissfully hopeful that this will once again be our last childless Christmas.  I am full of hope that we will become parents through adoption.  Everything is falling into place.  But am I setting myself up to fall again?

Other than the one situation that was a "hand me down" from another couple who had already been matched, we have not had a single call on our own 800 number.  There has been no interest.  After hearing of the two expectant mothers over a month ago, we are getting radio silence now.  Before you tell me it hasn't been that long- I know.  I know that we've only been fully active since September.  I know that we've only run our first newspaper ads last week.  But we've been out there- telling everyone we know.  We've sent out mailings, we have a website and a face.book page.  It was a year ago that we fully started the process with our first homestudy meeting.

I think the waiting would be so much easier to take if I knew that there would be a happy ending.  It's been more than 11 years since we started trying to have a family.  I just don't know how much longer I can wait without losing myself.  I've realized that the unknown timeline or even IF it will all work out is starting to eat away at me.  I don't like the person I am right now.  I am overwhelmed and underwhelmed all at the same time.  I am sad when I think about what the past 2 years have held for us- so much sadness and loss. 

For now I am holding onto hope.  Hope that we will finally have our family.  Hope that I will be able to embrace motherhood after yearning for so long.  Hope that Chris and I will be good parents.  Hope that we won't have our hearts broken again in the process.  Hope that an expectant mother will choose us and that we will be parents in 2012.

HOPE better not let me down this time.  I'm not going to take it lightly this time!

Article

Thank you once again for the outpouring of support.  It means the world to me!

I scanned in the actual article from the newspaper.  It's a little grainy, but for those of you who can't see it online, you should be able to read it.  Just click on the image and it will show up in a new window.

We've had a good response so far.  No leads, but no crazy emails, either.  One woman telling me all about Re.solve.  Yep, I know about Res.olve.  Thanks!  :)

We are meeting with our attorney tomorrow.  Looking forward to *really* getting things moving!

No time for a long post tonight... have several card orders that I have to fill tonight. 

Sharing our Story

First of all,  Thank You.  Thank you for your kind words and positive energy over the past few days.  I know I've said it before, but I really don't know what I would do without my virtual support group.  I am so thankful to have found the ALI community.  While infertility is often a taboo subject in real life, I can always share my real feelings and emotions here and know that there is someone who gets it.  Thank you for being my "get it" girls!

I'm fortunate to have a few real life friends who really try to get where I am coming from.  They've cared for me and protected me from the angry fertiles of the world.  But I've also felt a need to educate those about what infertility is all about.  I've been rather open about our struggles and now about our adoption plan.  I am far from an activist, but I feel a sense of obligation to represent the life of an infertile.  The media portrays us in such a negative light and there are so many misconceptions about the processes involved in IVF and Adoption. 


We spent yesterday morning with a columnist for a local paper sharing our story.  An amazing woman set it all in motion. She filled in for me as a substitute teacher a year ago while I was dealing with our miscarriage. She came to me a few weeks ago asking me if it would be okay if she sent an email to a few contacts at local newpapers about us.  She has always wanted to do something more for us, and thought this might lead to something.  I graciously accepted her help, but really didn't think anything would come of it.  I mean, who would think we were a story worth writing?

Apparently we are somewhat interesting.  The columnist wanted to write about modern infertility, and the email came at just the right time.  He wanted to show the real side of infertility & adoption that has been overshadowed by women like octo.mom and Ange.lina J.olie.  He wanted to write a story to expose  some of myths surrounding IVF and adoption.  This was exactly the mission I'd been on.  He also agreed to share our adoption information within the article and include a photo or two of us.

We talked for almost two hours, sharing just about every detail of our life over the past ten years.  He asked questions that were respectful and showed that he really wanted to share our story in a positive light.  I am of course a little nervous about what silly comment I may have made that could be taken out of context, but hopeful that in the end it will all come together.  I am a little worried that we talked too much about our infertility and not enough about adoption- but that's what I know. I am an "expert" at infertility and a newbie in terms of adoption.  Hopefully I won't offend the adoption community with anything I said.

The article is supposed to run this week.  I am excited and nervous.  Of course I started to think about what comments will be posted on the online version of the article, and started to hyperventilate.  But then Chris reminded me of the S.NL skit from the last week that showed people who comment online.  Made me laugh and hopefully will keep me from even reading the comments.  I'll be sure to post a link here once it's online so that all of you can go and defend me if need be.  :)

Hoping that spending the day actively sharing our story was the best way to honor our miscarriage a year later.

More thoughts on our adoption plans for another post.  We're meeting with our attorney on Wednesday to get our 800 number and marketing plan rolling.  Yikes!

Realzing that I've used the word hope in some form MANY times in this post.  Could it be that I am just feeling a little hopeful? 

Sense of Peace

I think I might really be finding some peace with our infertility journey coming to a close and the hope of adoption.  It's funny how things like this sneak up on you.  While I am still having some breathtaking moments when I think of Friday's upcoming date, I am feeling more hope than grief.  If you would have told me that 6 months ago, I would have laughed (and then cried) in your face.

I spent 30 wonderful moments holding my friend's 3 week old baby yesterday.  You might remember me talking about meeting this little guy in this post.  She came into school yesterday for a surprise visit, and I was thrilled to get the chance to hold him during my lunch period.  (He didn't go near ANY of our students- he was only in the Teacher's lounge and the counselors office.  Way too many germs in other places!!!)

As I sat holding this little miracle, I just felt a sense of peace come over me.  He was content in my arms until he decided he was hungry.  He even spent a few moments cooing with his eyes open.  It was magical.  Not one other teacher dared to take this little guy out of my arms.  I think they all knew that I was having a moment.

While I will always have some sadness over our losses and our years of unsuccessful treatment, I think I might really be ready to heal.  I am hopeful that we will have our own little miracle very soon through adoption.  In the meantime, I think I'll just try to spend oodles of time with this little guy and try to learn all that I can about being a mom.

And after hearing about my friend's issues with delivery and the subsequent healing necessary in her lady parts, maybe giving birth isn't all it's cracked up to be...

Ten Years

There is no shortage of reminders of what today is.  It's been covered in the media for months. 

I don't need the reminders.  I remember that day and the flow of emotions I felt.  I was forever changed that day.  I didn't lose anyone close to me that day, but I did lose a part of myself.  I remember the fear that we had been attacked on our own soil, and wondered what the future would hold for us as a country. 

I was in my second year teaching at my current school.  There were lots of whispers in those first few hours trying to carry on in the classroom without letting our students sense our fear.  Our students were old enough to understand what happened, but not old enough to really understand the weight of the events. 

In addition to all of those feelings and memories, I'll also never forget because of the timing.  You see, Chris was at our first RE giving his "sample" when the first plane hit.  It was the start of our first heavy duty IF workup that day.  In the days following, I remember wondering if we should really pursue having a child.  Did we really want to bring a child into the chaos that our world felt at that time?

We carried on.  We went through with our testing, and learned that I had PCOS.  We thought we'd get pregnant once that was under control.  We had no idea what the next 10 years had in store for us.

So each year, I remember.  Another year passes, and we are reminded of what the world felt like that day.  And the hope we started to feel as the months passed.  We had hope that we could make sense of the chaos and had hope that we would be parents. 

And yet now, America is once again in a state of chaos and division.  Chris and I have just experienced one of the toughest years in terms of infertility.  Will we ever feel that same unity as a country?  Will Chris and I ever become parents?  I hope that by next year at this time, we will be closer to finding an answer to both of those questions.

Please don't think that I am trivializing the horror of that day, and all of the lives lost. As I am writing this, I have guilt over making it "about me" It's about so much more, but this is my memory, and my story of 9-11.  We all have them. 

Finding Peace

Thank you for all of your comments on my last post.  One of the great blessings of our IF journey has been meeting each of you and sharing our lives and stories with one another.  Infertility is such an isolating disease, and yet the ALI blogging community is strong and so very supportive.

I am working on finding peace in many areas of my life.  In addition to our infertility, I have a complicated family situation.  Some issues have resurfaced in the last week, and I am working to find peace with my decisions regarding my relationships with certain family members.  I'm not going to go into details here, but I am so very thankful for the amazing friends and mentors in my life that are allowing me to be who I am.

But that's not even what this post is really about.

My good friend had her beautiful baby boy yesterday.  The friend who I talked through her first medicated IUI and who struggled to tell me that it worked. It was an awkward few weeks, but we moved past it.  She is a dear friend and truly one of my closest coworkers.  She's one of our social workers at school, and often has to provide social work to me so I don't strangle certain children! I didn't mind being around her at all- even when she was 40 weeks pregnant.  Here's the thing- being pregnant didn't define who she was.  We rarely talked about it unless I asked.  And in the last few weeks, I asked lots, and she always took the time to answer me.

I think I may have been living through her final weeks of pregnancy as a way to find peace with the fact that I many never experience pregnancy.  I wanted to absorb as much as I could with her.  She's also a really down to earth type of girl, and was willing to answer all of my questions- the things a girl who has never been pregnant might want to know but be afraid to ask.  And in the last few weeks I would joke about things that are benefits to never giving birth- things she could have done without.

I have every intention of going to visit her once she is home from the hospital.  I am excited about holding her tiny little miracle and seeing her as a mom.  I honestly didn't think I'd ever be able able to say that.  Is it possible that I am finally finding peace with all of this? (We'll see how I do when I actually make the trip to see her!)

As a final note,  this friend sent me a sweet message via FB the night before she was induced.  She wanted to let me know she was thinking of me and wanted to know where we were with our adoption process.  She asked that I keep her posted since I won't be seeing her every day for the next 12 weeks.  So, even the night before she meets her little miracle, she took the time to message me.  I don't know if she'll ever know how much that meant to me.

So maybe I really am on my way to finding peace.  Or at least I am getting good at faking it!

Almost normal

Lab results are in from the final set of bloodwork I had done last week.

Everything came back normal.  No clotting issues.  No answers. 

The only thing that came back is that I have 1 copy of the MTHFR mutation, which my nurse tells me can't be the cause of our miscarriages.  I need to be on a higher dose of Folic Acid during pregnancy, but that's it.  She also said I am at a higher risk for coronary heart disease and need to have one more blood test done to rule out an issue there.  Isn't that just peachy?  No answers about our miscarriages and I might have a heart issue in the future!

Going to start on the folic acid now, even though we aren't in treatment.  We weren't in treatment this spring/summer when I got pregnant. One just never knows with these things, right? 

We are 110% committed to moving forward on the adoption path.  I have mixed emotions about these results, however.  I was really hoping to finally have some answers and some closure about the past 11 years.  But maybe having no answer is a type of closure after all?  There is literally nothing more to test for with CC.RM.  While I realize some people have gone down the immune path, that isn't for us at this time.

So now I am scared that I will once again get pregnant and have to endure yet another miscarriage.  Asked Chris if he would consider birth control.  He said no, and I can't say I'd really do it either.  I mean there are miracles all the time, right?

It's time to put all of the energy into our adoption now.  We're homestudy approved.  We just need to find our perfect match.  She has to be out there somewhere, right?  Someone who wants two parents like us?

Please let us finally find our missing piece.

Seeing unicorns?

I think for the first time in our 11 year history of family making struggles, Chris and I are on the same page.  I've heard stories about such magical moments, but never believed that they were real.  I equated such an event with seeing a unicorn in my backyard, really.  :)

While we've come to many agreements in terms of treatments and such, it always felt like one of us was more "in" than the other.  We've never made a treatment or adoption decision without both agreeing.  It just always felt like one of us was more at that point than the other. 

But we're really there now.  We are in the same place.  We are ready to commit 110% into an adoption plan.  We've been homestudy approved for months now, just hoping that the stork would deliver a baby to us with little more work.  Instead, we spent the summer dealing with the physical and emotional anguish of yet another miscarriage.  We've both agreed that we can't continue on where we are at right now.  Neither of us is feeling the same fulfillment and joy from our careers that we once felt.  We want more.  We want to be more.  We want to be parents. 

So it's time to seriously talk to some attorneys and agencies and find out what the bottom line is financially.  We have two swim team families who have approached us about helping us out financially with an adoption, knowing that we will get some money back with our tax credit.  It's hard to accept help, but at this point it's what we need to do in order to build our family.  

I need you all to hold me to this.  We MUST move forward.  We're both so stuck and need to be nudged.  I also still need to get the labs run from my CCRM nurse.  I just need to do it.  I need to know if there is something that will finally explain the last year (and the ten before that!)  I just booked an appointment at the local Que.st office for this Saturday morning.  Hopefully they can run even some of the tests I need run.  Worst case I get there and they can't, right?

So let's hope that this unicorn sighting is not the last and that we will finally be on the path that will find us our missing piece.