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?


Well, Hell….(loss mentioned)

Things have been crazy to say the least in our household. MIL is finally gone. We took her to sister’s house yesterday. She is starting radiation and hubby is worried. I don’t blame him. I know he is worried.

On an entirely different note, we got a BFP this weekend. Only, it was not to be. Chemical pregnancy. How horrible that sounds. How horrible all of it is. I hate it. I hate my body. My first BFP in over a year and it ends before it begins. I was pregnant for maybe a full 24 hours. Why? Why did this happen again? I am devastated, hopes, dreams, everything is lost.

My RE called today to discuss next steps. I dunno how things are going to go from here. I am not sure where we stand. We will be moving onto injectables. Ugh, just the thought hurts. 7 to 12 days of shots followed by u/s and labs every few days. More needles. Only to end in the crushing BFN. Yep, that is right, I have lost all hope. I am sure it will come, it’s a bitch like that. Right now, though, I am all tapped out. I am beyond tired, emotionally spent. I literally look like someone who has gone a couple of rounds with Tyson. It’s not pretty. Not at all.

Hubby, God bless him, is ever the positive thinker. I dunno how I got him sometimes. I can’t think like him, to much of a realist. Or is it that I am just jaded and cynical person? Who knows. I don’t. I know that I am tired and the though of moving on to injectables just weighs me down. Is 2014 over yet? I swear this year has been fraught with more shit than I can keep up with. I am over it. Over all of it. Done. If you need me, I will hiding from the world in my blanket fort, coloring. Trying to recapture some semblance of innocence that was ripped cruelly away. Maybe one day I will recognize the person I see in the mirror. Maybe she will come back. Maybe.

CYG Day 10

Today’s CYG is all about Support. The support I received or didn’t receive, etc. I have been thinking about this off and on all day. I am deciding on focusing on something slightly different. I want to talk about some things I have learned being over a year out from our loss. I can kind of see it through frosted glasses, it still hurts like a bitch, but I can look.

Here are some things not to say when someone tells you of their loss:

1. DO NOT ASK WHAT YOU CAN DO! I repeat, DO NOT ASK WHAT YOU CAN DO! I had no idea how to answer this question when asked after our loss. I can assure you that no one else does either. Loss parents are not thinking about what you can do for them, they are still processing the improbable news that the life they had is gone. Instead, just do something! Bring them dinner, come over and clean their house. The best thing that happened to me after our loss, was my friend came over after work and brought me ice cream. We said maybe to two words to each other, but she was there, with ice cream. I will never forget that.

2. PLATITUDES DO NOT HELP!! I abhor platitudes, they make me irrationally angry on a good day. After my loss, I was murderous to anyone offering me platitudes. They do not bring comfort, they bring hurt. Phrases like, “Everything happens for a reason” or “This was God’s plan” do not inspire comfort in a loss parent. For me, they inspired my need to punch people in the face. If it wasn’t for hubby, I would have prolly gone to jail for assault on multiple occasions. As it was, I went off on my pastor when he told me it was probably God’s plan. It was not His plan for my baby to die, anyone who would dare suggest that does not know the God I know.

3. Saying things like, “at least you weren’t very far along,” or “you didn’t know your baby” are THE WORST THINGS TO SAY!! That mom loved that baby the SECOND she found out she was pregnant. She already started planning for the life she was nurturing, envisioning how beautiful her child would be. These phrases, while seemingly harmless in our thoughts, are the equivalent to insults to the parents. You, are in essence, telling those parents that their baby was insignificant, their CHILD was insignificant. I do not abide by this and I have had someone say both of these to me.

4. Please, do not under any circumstances say you know what they are experiencing unless you have been there. I cannot express this enough. Pregnancy loss is hard enough to vocalize, don’t trivialize it by assuming you know what a loss mom is going through b/c you lost your dog or your friend went through it. Hubby’s cousin told me last year at Christmas that she knew exactly what I was going through b/c her best friend had went through it. I do not doubt that she knew some of the pain, but no, she does not know what I went through. Hubby was livid that she made me cry. That is all that does for you when you say that. You make a loss mom cry b/c she does not know how to take those comments. Are you being serious or calling her grief insignificant?

Things to say or do:

1. I am sorry. That is it, nothing else. No other words are needed. If they named their baby, use their name. Loss parents long to talk about their children, no matter when they lost them. You remind them that they are important and what they went through was real. Most do not because of the stigma associated with pregnancy loss.

2. Help them remember their child. The best thing my family has done for me is they light a candle on October 15th. They mark it on their calendars and light one in remembrance of our baby. That means more to me than any words ever could.

This turned into a book of sorts, sorry for that. Obviously, I am quite passionate about this.


I think that is all I have energy for is sighing. MIL’s surgery was yesterday and we spent 12 hours in the hospital waiting for her. Her surgery was delayed by 4 hours, so it was just a long day. She came through it well and is expected to be in the hospital 2 to 3 days.

On another note, Hubby’s family has taken over my house with more arriving today. It is hard having guests under normal circumstances, under these, it’s flat out difficult. Now, I am not saying they horrible people, they aren’t. I just miss my house, my space. I miss being able to walk around without a bra!!! Selfish, I know, but I am not above it.

Moving on to CYG: Day 9 In Memory.

Today is all about in memory of our children. Did we do something remember him/her? I had a friend of mine help me with creating a tattoo. I do not have it yet, but every time I need a reminder, I look at the pic and it reminds me. The pic is not the greatest, but I know what it means to me. That is all that matters in my mind.

Featured image

Sorry about the pic, it sucks. I want a hummingbird “kissing” a forget-me-not. I only want one flower in the tat to represent my one loss. I can add to it if I need to. I am hopeful I do not ever have to. That is my in memory, I am hoping to go this month to get it. Maybe I will have a better pic to show then!

Capture Your Grief: Day 2 Heart

It’s October. This month is a busy month. There are a lot of awareness things happening this month. The big one everyone knows is breast cancer, but did you know it’s also Pregnancy Loss and Remembrance month? This encompasses all losses from miscarriage to stillborn to infant loss. Carly Marie does a project every October to capture your grief. She is amazing and does a lot of loss awareness campaigns to break the silence.

I am participating this year as I am in a better head space. Last year was to hard, we weren’t even a month from our loss when October hit. I couldn’t concentrate on bringing any kind of awareness as I was trying to remember what it was like to live. No one thinks about that, how loss affects us. It is soul shattering. My heart will always remember my Angel. I will always know when my loss date is, I will always know my EDD. Those dates will never leave and they will mark me every year. I will mourn a life that never got to be. I will mourn a baby I never saw. I will mourn what could be, what was, and what should have been. I will always mourn that. Always.

Here is today’s photo:

unnamed (2)

That is Hubby’s hands making the heart. The grief, our loss, it’s as much his as it is mine. Our heart represents our one and only Angel. We have never conceived again. It hard not to think that I would have my baby by now. It is hard not to think about how different we would both be if our Angel was here.

I will be posting a new photo as I see fit to participate. Some of these are hard, I will not lie. Some draw up to many memories, to many triggers. I encourage you to participate if you want. I encourage you to help break the silence.

2WW Part Two: To be or not to be

I have officially hit the crazy! I am 11dpo as of today and I am feeling the pressure. Yes, there is pressure during the 2WW. I think it is compounded when you are on a medicated cycle. You feel like it should work this time because you had “help”. It’s completely beyond logic, yet that is how you feel. I woke up today feeling some major nausea. Of course, part of my brain immediately goes to yay we could pregnant mode. Then Logical Side (i.e. the logical thinking part of my brain) steps in and tells Crazy to slow her role. Crazy proceeds to argue, pointing out the fact that nausea IS a good sign. Logical Side argues that point with anything other than the pregnant title. This is all taking place in a span of a few minutes at 6:30 this morning. In other words, I haven’t had my coffee yet and I have a headache. Wonderful.

This is my crazy. I can’t even begin to point out that letting these thoughts out has me slightly worried. I, mean, what if I get committed for these thoughts? They are really out there sometimes. Is that what we all deal with? Do we really have to go through this time and time again? Why can’t this be exciting again? These are questions I ask every 2WW, especially the last one. I have become jaded about being pregnant. I don’t know any other way to say it. There will never again be that innocent super happy feeling again. I will be forever marred, scarred by my loss. I have all these stats in my head about our chances of another ectopic. It’s about a 10% chance, but as we have discussed, my body hates me. I could be that 10%. See the crazy?

Because of my history, I get to have what I call “stringent” monitoring. I talked about what I go through with the medicated cycles. What I didn’t discuss is the plan for if/when I get pregnant. I have to go in for early betas, which is not bad since I go in for betas every cycle. I have my beta check this cycle on Wednesday. I am nervous. No bones about it, I am nervous and petrified. Anyway, back to the topic at hand. I go in for early betas, then keep going in for betas. In other words, my needle phobia is going to get a workout if/when I get pregnant. I also get to have the vag cam (i.e. vaginal u/s) at about 5 weeks. This is to make sure I do not have another ectopic. Another u/s at about 7 weeks to confirm things are moving along and then my RE will decide whether to release me. That is the plan. It’s a lot. It’s overwhelming and I am in the crazy that hopes and prays I get to go through it. Not really logical, but that is where I am.

I am overwhelmed with it all. It happens every time! I find myself hoping, praying, and waiting. I also hear Logical Side telling me to take it down a notch. I can’t afford to get excited or hope. I have to protect my very fragile heart. A heart, that after our loss, is so scarred it’s a miracle it works. A heart, that is held together by tenuous threads. There is no balance at this point in the 2WW. I am either super crazy or very indifferent. I strive so hard to be indifferent. It’s safer. I know, it seems callous, but it is what it is.

Now I wait and try not to hope. Hope is a sneaky thing, though. It comes in when you least expect it. It smacks you upside the head and fills you excitement. It’s hard to shut that down. I am caught between hoping and indifference. There is no balance and usually hope wins despite my efforts to the contrary.