What it’s Like to be Cast off the Island of the Fertiles

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, this tends to get me in a lot of trouble, but I want to share my thought process.

What it’s like to be cast off the Island of the Fertiles:

1. It’s a gut wrenching, soul shattering experience. There is nothing worse than to know that you are not like everyone else. There is nothing worse than to know that your body is not doing what it’s supposed to do, what it’s designed to do.

2. It’s lonely. You feel like the only one in the world with this problem. This disease. You feel like a leper, an outcast. You feel like you are looking in from the outside. You wonder if you will ever be allowed back.

3. It’s tiresome. There is nothing worse than to experience treatment after treatment, failed cycle after failed cycle. You barely live a life around monitoring appointments,  medications, blood work, having sexy time. It’s all reduced down to an endless schedule.

4. It’s full of waiting. You are constantly waiting. Waiting for AF, waiting to O, waiting to trigger, waiting to sex it up, waiting to inseminate. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Nothing but waiting.

5. It’s stressful. There is an innate pressure from being cast off. You want desperately be allowed back. You want to be whole, normal. You find you will do almost anything for a chance to be allowed back. You put your body through hell with no guarantee of anything.

You hope. You cry. You rage. You pray. You bargain. You beg. You start making deals with any deity that will listen. You start going slightly crazy. And, if you are somehow allowed back, you find you are forever changed. You realize that babies are not just made with a man and wife, but they are made with a man, wife, and doctors and nurses. Sometimes, they are made by strangers who graciously donated sperm or eggs or embryos. Sometimes, they are not made at all. Sometimes, you never got off the island,  just shuffled to a different part.



I got my memorial tattoo today. I’m pretty much in love with it! Two flowers for my two angels. My artist took my idea and made it something amazing!! I can add to it if need be. I’m hoping it will be with my rainbow and not another angel.

Without further ado, here it is!



I’m sitting here on my couch thinking. Thinking about what a cluster fuck this past year has been. I mean, it’s been a shit storm of bad news.

Here is a rundown:

1. We found out we were infertile.

2. I found I have PCOS and only one ovary functions.

3. My mom had been deathly ill for 6 months.

4. Hubby’s mom was DX’d with breast cancer.

5. I had another loss 😈

6. Mom got E-coli in her blood and is still in the hospital.

Pretty much, I want 2014 to be gone. I’m praying, hoping, crossing my fingers and everything else that 2015 will be my year. This may be selfish, but I feel like I’m due for some good stuff to happen. Surely it’s gonna happen, right?

It’s a Slow Process….

It hit me like a sucker punch to the stomach yesterday. This year would have been our first baby’s first Christmas. I have no idea where the thought came from. I was driving home from work singing Christmas songs when WHAM! Outta nowhere it hit me. I think I forgot to breathe for a moment. I had such plans for him! I wanted to watch his face as he looked the Christmas tree. I wanted to keep a sharp eye on him and keep him away from presents. I wanted to do my dramatic reading of Twas the Night Before Christmas. I wanted to do all those things. Instead, every day, every night, I look at the ornament that is his, and I pray and wish for him. I pray so hard.

Believe it or not, I am doing better since my last post. I am in a better head space. Kind of. I still have moments (like yesterday) and I am still very unsure of our future, but I am ok. I will say that it was hard this past weekend when I was back home. My sister has two beautiful daughters. She was cleaning out their clothes and she asked if I wanted her to save some for me. How do I answer that question? I had nothing for her. I couldn’t answer. It was like I was struck dumb. She didn’t meant it maliciously or anything. She was genuinely asking, hoping. I just….I had nothing. All the way home, I wondered how I should have answered that question.

This time of year is hard. It’s hard to be reminded that I am barren (to use an antiquated term). It’s hard to go anywhere. Yet, it’s exciting to see such hope. It’s exciting to be reminded there is good in the world. I know I have a long way to go before I am truly at peace with this path in my life. I know that finding peace will require a lot of surrender on my part. It will require that I pick up my faith that has been tattered and threadbare for so long. I know this. I will be working on it. I have to. I may not have much in the way of hope, but I can never lose faith. I have been through to much, seen to much, watched to many miracles happen. The worse casualty of all would be if I lost it.

I thought about leaving you with a Bible verse, but I think, instead, I will leave with this.


The Talk

I have been going back and forth whether to write about this or not. I decided that I needed to b/c writing is my outlet. Our first natural cycle was a bust. No surprise and I was surprisingly ok with it. CD1 came, bad cramps and all. Fine, I can handle that. What I can’t handle is hubby deciding we nee to talk about future TTC and treatments on CD1. That I can’t handle. At all.

We talk, I cry, and now I am lost. He wants to take more time off meds. I get it. I get where he is coming from. This has been the year from hell and since I started meds, things have gotten worse. Here’s some back story: I started meds in July. My mom got sick, pneumonia. Bad for her b/c she is a severe asthmatic with COPD. Well, she almost died. Yep, she coded and they brought her back. She made it through but never got better. The next few months she was in the hospital more than out and almost died a total of 4 times. Yes, I said FOUR. I almost lost my mother FOUR times. It was pretty devastating. Going through that on Clomid is a special kind of hell. Now she is recovering in a rehap facility b/c she is to sick to go home, but can’t stay in the hospital. It kills her. It kills me.

Hubby’s mom was DX’d with breast cancer. We thought things were going to be bad, and they were, but she has defied some odds. Now, though, she can’t live alone as I have alluded to in previous posts. Hubby is really struggling with the fact that he is going to have to put her in a home. I dunno how to help with that.

During all of this, my job decides that I need a major pay cut (read several thousand a year). Working for a non-profit is not fun when your livelihood is based on grants. This has put a HUGE financial strain on us. So much so, this led to our chat on CD1. What a craptastic day. What a craptastic talk. He wants to take several months off from meds so maybe we can enjoy life again. What he really means is maybe I can enjoy life. I do enjoy life, I find joy in things, I am not depressed, which is surprising considering the above. However, he wants me to be like I was before all of this happened. Before we got pg the first time. I can’t. I don’t know how to go back to that person. She is gone, replaced by a harder, more cynical me.

I feel like my TTC is a ticking time bomb. Not b/c of my age or anything, but b/c of the endo. The longer we go w/o a BFP the more chance I take on it ruining me. It’s horrible. I can literally hear my TTC timeline ticking down. I already said that my RE suspects my endo may be coming back. If that is the case, I dunno what we will do. IVF is not an option for us. Financially, we will never be able to afford it. I have one tube and one working ovary, if endo is coming back, I do not hold much hope for us. I am torn. I am torn b/w trying naturally for however long until hubby is satisfied that we are back to whatever, or just going on BCP to suppress it. I dunno. My head and heart hurts trying to figure it out.

Hubby wants us to keep trying naturally, he has all the confidence that things will be fine. I don’t have that. I never had it. I never will. I have come to terms with that. I don’t know how to deal with the things he said. How do I not become IF? I have a disease, hell two diseases and tubal factor IF. What am I supposed to do?! Pretend these things do not impact my DAILY LIFE??!! I take meds everyday to keep things semi under control. Every day I am reminded what I am dealing with. My female parts hurt everyday, Every. God. Forsaken. Day. So what is a girl supposed to do?! He had no answers for that, of course not b/c he doesn’t get it. He readily admits that. I love him for that. However, he wants a lot of things I am not sure I can give. I don’t know how to give. I guess when I get a sharp pain in my lady parts, I will just smile and hide it like I always do. He does not know what I go through on a daily basis. The constant pain, the sheer terror of continual failure, the isolation.

Life sucks. IF sucks monkey balls. Becoming a bitter shrew seems like a natural progression. I’m just sayin’. No one could really blame me, could they? Could anyone walk a mile in my shoes then expect me to be a happy go lucky individual? Could they deal with working with pregnant women and infants Every. Single. Day. Could they compartmentalize the constant triggers? Could they deflect the “do you have kids questions”  every day? Could they smile and encourage a pregnant mom to be excited about this baby? Could they? Not w/o hiding themselves. Not w/o having some scars from it. Not w/o burying their heart so it doesn’t break every time and baby is placed in their arms. These are things hubby doesn’t know b/c how do I tell him?

Our First Natural Cycle

I am in the 2ww of my first natural cycle in what feels like forever, but really hasn’t been that long ago. What is it about coming off meds for a little bit that makes you feel like you have aged 10 years? Is it the constant monitoring? The stress? All I know is that I am more zen this time around than I have been in forever. It could be because my needle phobia is not being tested this month, or the fact that I have not had to have a vag cam this month. Who knows? All I know is that I am ok.

I managed to O on my own, which is pretty exciting for someone with PCOS. My temps were even pretty consistent and that in and of itself is praise worthy. Granted, my body may still be out of whack from not being on meds, who knows. I just know that I  am pretty happy with how things are progressing this cycle. I doubt we have a chance in hell for a BFP. We had horrible timing, but again, the real thing is I O’d. I have not decided if I will test early or not. Who knows. (Apparently who knows is the theme of this post).

I will say that I think I am crazier on a natural cycle than on a medicated cycle. It’s like my body has forgotten how to function naturally so I think there is an overdose of hormones happening. I am irrationally angry and have been for the last few days. My temper has been on a hair trigger and I have no idea why. Nothing bad is particularly triggering me. I am just angry. Makes me wish I had a punching bag, except I am so tired, I could barely make it through one good punch. It’s a terrible catch 22 and it makes me seem like a certifiable crazy person. Perhaps I am, at least right now. Oh well, I am ok with it.

New Fur Baby!!

Y’all we have a new baby, fur baby that is. She is so stinking cute!! She is an 8 month old Doberman. Hubby and I are totally in love with her!! I am looking forward to training her and learning from her. She is really smart, it’s gonna be fun!!

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We brought her home yesterday and she has settled in nicely! She says Happy Thanksgiving everyone!! 😀