Choosing Joy

Wow I’ve been absent.  I wish I could just say I had writers block or was so busy preparing for baby…but alas, it’s really just that I was lacking motivation to write. To be honest my motivation has been pretty non-existent all around lately…losing motivation to stay positive,  losing any semblance of having something helpful to say on the situation, losing the ability to choose joy over sadness. You always hear about how infertility takes away your joy, brings people to a dark place, makes it hard to be happy. I was determined not to let that be me. But here I sit wallowing in my baby-less sorrows and forgetting that I have quite a bit to be grateful for in my life.

So today, Thanksgiving, I’m choosing to reflect on all of the great things that I have to be thankful for.  I’m choosing joy. In my grand plan of how I thought life was going to work out,  a year ago today Josh and I would’ve been telling our families we were expecting. I even had a few idea of the cute ways we could tell them…..ya, we all see how that one went…

I’ve spent a good deal of last year obsessing over the one thing I want most and don’t have, rather than being grateful for the things that I do have. So today I’m refusing to dwell on the have-nots, and instead being grateful for the many pluses we have had through this journey.

I’m thankful for a husband who has been by my side and supported me through the hardest year of my/our lives. It’s impossible to explain the constant grief to an outsider, but it’s real.  I think we’ve done a relatively good job of making the mess we’re in bring us closer rather than driving us apart.

I’m thankful for friends and family who have been open and willing to listen to me bitch and complain, and who have been supporting us through every step of the way even though I’m relatively certain it’s uncomfortable for them. Just being here for us and continuing to be our friends, even though we are in a different spot than most of you is a godsend.

*And I’m even extra thankful for friends who are willing to go to the ends of the earth to help us reach or dream of being parents. You know who you are* 😘

I’m thankful for a job and a career that allows me to even consider assisted reproductive therapies. There are plenty of people out there for whom a diagnosis of infertility means the end, because they don’t have the financial means to do anything about it. I’m doing everything I can to change that and advocate for better access to care, but until then I’ll continue to be grateful that I am not in their shoes.

I’m thankful for a couple wonderful colleagues who have been extremely supportive and willing to switch me shifts at the last-minute, because there’s not really much planning ahead for these types of things.

I’m thankful for all the fun we’ve had, trips we’ve taken, last-minute plans that we can say yes to in the last 2 years. I always said I wanted to enjoy just being married for a little bit before kids and the vast majority of the beginning of our marriage was spent with me in school and Josh working 2 jobs, so you can imagine how much fun that was haha.

I’m grateful for 2 amazingly adorable, fun, loving and a little bit crazy pups to come home to that snuggle me when I’m sad and make even the worst days tolerable.

I’m thankful for a new doctor who keeps calling me “young”  This may sound silly but when you’re tiptoe-ing on the edge of the all dreaded Advanced Maternal Age” hearing from your REI that you’re young is reassuring that maybe things will work out.

So today I choose joy. And I will try to choose joy again tomorrow, and the next day.  And I’m sure there will be more days that I’m not positive, but when I realize it’s happening I plan to consciously choose happiness instead.  And I wish joy every day, even if it’s the smallest dose, to all of you.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!

Good Greif

Infertility is an emotional roller coaster to say the least, and can be quite overwhelming at times.  Month-to-month excitement turns to month-to-month anxiety, which inevitably becomes to month-to-month dread….

A few months in the grand scheme of life seems so trivial to people not dealing with this hell. Ohhhhh how I wish they could just understand how the days seem like weeks, and two weeks drags on like an eternity. They don’t realize that the journey can be all-consuming. It’s an unrelenting grieving process. Daily, monthly, with each CD1, with each failed treatment, each less than stellar SA, each pregnancy announcement, and baby shower, and birthday party, and……  All the while there’s no end in sight to our battle. And the ongoing and endless grief is EXHAUSTING at times.

I’ve spent the better part of the last few months busying myself enough not to think *too much* about my baby-less life or the mess that lies ahead.  But every so often a burst of immense sadness just breaks through and I start to feel totally hopeless.  Sometimes it’s the big things like pregnancy announcements and new babies, some days it’s just the small things like seeing how proud a mom is of her child, the emotion, the tears, and knowing those tears may never be your own. And some days it’s probably a combination of too many things to name…

To be totally honest there are few days that go by that I don’t in some way think about being a mom, that I’m not reminded somehow about my predicament. I’m not saying I’m laying on my couch with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a box of Kleenex sobbing into my dog’s neck every day (you can picture that this has happened before right?!?!). But in some small way the infertility bug finds a way to make an appearance just about daily. To “just not think about it” at all is impossible.

I try really hard to stay positive n this journey, but some days I just don’t have it in me to believe and have faith and be upbeat and look for the silver lining. Some days I just want to scream and cry and ask what the hell we did to deserve this, when there are millions of people out there that want nothing to do with kids getting knocked up daily, and parents treating their kids like crap, and not realizing the true blessing that they are.

I’m trying to remind myself that it’s okay to not always be positive, and that it’s okay to have all these big emotions.  Because this thing called infertility just. plain. sucks.  And it IS a grieving process. And I would never tell someone who lost a loved one, or who was diagnosed with cancer, or any other major event that comes with grief to “just not think about it,” or that they are “thinking about it too much,” or that “there are plenty of people going through worse things so count your blessings.”

Give yourself permission to grieve.  As often as you need to. And try to find support to help you through the grief. It’s out there if you are willing to open up and look for it.

“The idea we can go it alone defies the natural world. We are like animals; we need ties to others to survive. We live in the shelter of each other.” ~ Dr. Susan Love

 

 

 

‘Twas the night before IUI

‘Twas the night before IUI and all through my head
We’re a million different thoughts as I laid in the bed
Positive vibes and throwing away sorrow
In hopes that the fertility Gods would bless us tomorrow
Hubby and I got all snuggled in bed
While dreams of a baby danced in our heads
Just Josh and myself and the dog in his lap
Had settled our brains for a long summer’s nap‍

When there in my head there arose such a clatter,
I was already picturing myself getting fatter.
Away to the infertility clinic I flew like a flash,
Hollering and screaming, “I’ve got your cash!!”
I was thinking, “My friend just rubbed a dead dude’s junk
To bring us luck and get us out of this baby-less funk”
When, what to my wondering eyes should I see,
A post-wash count of 10 million, could it really be?
With speculum in hand and a smile on her face,
I knew in a moment it was time for the race
“Come on now boys, time to get in the game”
I was hooting and hollering and calling them by name
“Now! Dasher, now! Dancer, now! Prancer and Vixen,
“On! Comet, on! Cupid, on! On Donner and Blitzen!
“To the top of the tube! To where the egg lays!
“Now swim up there! Swim up there! Swim all the way!”
There was blocking and fighting and racing all night
But at the end of the day one little dude won the fight
But this wasn’t the end of his journey or fun,
In fact his work had just begun
For he had one perfect lady that he had to impress
And after that race he was looking a mess
As he met that precious egg he tried with all his might
To make this an unforgettable night
Soft music and flowers and off they went
For a night filled with fun, he was a perfect gent
The tube was adorned with rose petals galore
She thought, gosh could I ever need more?
He charmed her all night with his humor and wit
And at the end of the date she invited him in
In one short week that seemed to drag on forever
They decided they were meant to be together
So they picked a nice comfy spot in the endometrial wall
Where they decided to settle down and grow into a ball
As they say the rest is history
and in 38 weeks there will be a little me!

The next thing I knew hubby turned on the light
And my visions of pregnancy vanished from sight
As I opened my eyes I suddenly knew
This was all a dream, lets just hope it comes true!

 

Please bear with my corniness, friends, tomorow is our first IUI and I needed something to do to keep my mind off the percentage numbers of success.  Hope you got a laugh or two.  Wish us luck!

Victor Noir bring us luck!!!   🙏 🙏 🙏

 

You are not alone

Lets face it, this journey can seem quite dark an isolating at times. I’s easy to get into a rut when month after month you keep getting BFNs, or in my case aunt flo keeps coming a knocking, no matter how much I try to tell her she’s not welcome.  It can feel like no one could possibly understand the constant letdown. And it’s true, anyone who hasn’t been through it truly cannot understand the pain of wanting so badly to create a life and be a mom and not being able to do so.  And it can be especially hard when everyone around you is having babies on top of babies on top of babies….

While it can be a very lonely road, I’m here to tell you it doesn’t have to be.  It’s quite eye-opening and freeing if you start opening up about your struggles, at least that’s the experience I’ve had.  Not only have close friends been very supportive, I’ve been amazed at the number of people I find are battling or have struggled with infertility themselves.   Take this past weekend for example:

A good friend of ours was getting married, and my husband was a groomsman. Well, we also recently got the green light that we could try IUI because Clomid has dramatically improved hubby’s sperm count, motility and morphology back into totally normal ranges.  Woo hoo!! I had been convinced IUI was off the table and IVF was our only hope. We also found out that our doc does not make us do in-cycle monitoring so the cost of each IUI is quite a bit less than we had planned on. Double woo hoo!! We were riding high, back on the upswing…this was gonna be it, this is all it was going to take, THIS was going to be our month!  Well of course nature had other plans and I got my beautiful positive OPK on, you guessed it, Friday morning!!  Which would put IUI on Saturday….which was a non-option because my hubby was in a wedding that was 2.5 hours away from our clinic, and there’s just no way we were going to bail on our friends like that.  So we resolved to just have lots of good hotel sex and try naturally again this month.  I can’t lie I was pretty disappointed. Of all the days in my 10-day window of possible ovulation it just had to be the ONE DAY we couldn’t make it work….

Well, life has had a funny way of keeping things in perspective for me these days. Some call it luck, some call it fate, I like to think of it as divine intervention.  So I was at the wedding and I was sitting with one of the other groomsman’s wives (who I met just the night before at the rehearsal).  We were just chatting and she asked me, “So do you guys have any kids?”  I thought Oh man here it goes…..the baby questions….I politely responded “No, not yet, how ’bout you guys?”  To which she replied, “No, no luck for us yet.”  It was then that I got the sense they must have been trying too.  She then opened up to me and told me that they had been trying for close to 5 years and IVF is their only option. They have already done 4 IVF cycles and had to cancel a frozen transfer the day before because of the wedding. Holy shit was I surprised! Like, what are the odds I’d end up spending the day with someone who 1000% gets where we are?!?! And I also got to thinking, as much as it sucked to cancel the IUI it could have been worse.  She’s been doing daily injections to prepare for a transfer and had to cancel…

I have also been lucky enough to have some great close friends who are extremely supportive and are doing their very best to take our feelings and struggles into consideration.  If you feel like you’re fighting in the dark I highly suggest finding a way to break the silence. Tell a close friend or two, find a Resolve support group, ask your REI for resources. They are out there if you are willing to open up. I know it’s not for everyone.  But I will tell you I am living this baby-free life with less stress, less tears and more laughter these days, and I wish that for each and every one of you as well!

Esperar

Wow I’ve been absent for awhile…let me assure you it’s (sadly) not because I got a tenant in my uterus….. life has just been a little extra crazy lately.  Which in a way is a good thing because it’s kind of kept my mind off being sad and mad and all those things.

I recently came across the word Esperar, which is spanish for “to wait” or “to hope,” and I think it’s the perfect representation of infertility, at least for me. I’m even thinking about getting a tattoo with the word somewhere. Because both translations are, in fact, exactly what we are doing on this journey right? Waiting….

And hoping. It’s scary to continue having hope. After all hope has always let me down thus far. And I’m tired of being let down. You see, I was pretty down in the dumps as far as motivation goes.  I was stressed to the max with just about everything.  Trying to coordinate my work schedule so that I could be off in the morning for IUI (which we then learned wasn’t even a possibility yet because of the OAT), picking up as many shifts as humanly possible to try and save for IVF, and oh, in the mean time find time for Josh and me to nurture our marriage. It all was weighing heavily on my soul.  I couldn’t think of a way out or a solution that would satisfy all of our needs. And I’m a fixer, so to not have a solution was killing me.  I was quickly running out of hope.

I actually almost took a job that really wasn’t the right fit but would have given Josh and me more time together at night and on weekends.  The job would have been far less than ideal if we do have a baby but hey, I’m living for the now right?! But for some reason a tiny voice in the back of my head kept saying that where I am now will be better if we do have a child.  Ah! A glimmer of hope. I’m still somewhere deep down holding onto hope that there may be a child one day.  As a bonus Josh seems to be responding to the Clomid and his count, motility and morphology are all back within normal limits. Even more reason to be hopeful!

It’s still a daily up and down, don’t get me wrong. There are days when I’m super hopeful, and days when my hope is waning, and days when I can’t even understand how I still have hope. Hell, there are days when all I want to do is give up hope. But I CANT!! I cannot let go of my internal need and fire and determination to be a mother. There has never been a time in my life where I haven’t wanted to have kids. I can’t imagine going through this entire life and not being a mom.  So for now I will continue to wait, and to hope, and to make the best of a crappy situation. Because after all,  “Given our options, it’s better to have hope then to have none at all.”

Decorative vintage hand drawn floral background

Idiopathic Oligoasthenoteratozoospermia…

Oligospermia….or is it oligozoospermia….or wait maybe oligoasthenazoospermia…….or coud it be oligoasthenoteratozoospermia?  Okay now you’re just adding letters for the fun of aren’t you?!?!

But seriously, idiopathic oligoasthenoteratozoospermia…say that one 3 times fast!!

Besides a ridiculously long word that no one can pronounce, what the heck is oligoasthenoteratozoospermia (more easily referred to as OAT)?  It’s a form of male factor infertility.  Basically it means all semen parameters (count, motility and morphology) are low and there’s no specific known cause, all hormone levels (testosterone, LH, FSH) are within normal limits. From all of my research and blog reading and infertility support groups everything always seems to be focused on the ladies and very little information out there outlines the male side of infertility.  But here we are after a couple of awkward semen collection tactics facing just that. Hubs has been diagnosed with idiopathic oligoasthenoteratozoospermia, just one type of male factor infertility.  So I though I’d put together a little cheat sheet on all those confusing prefixes when it comes to male factor infertility terms.

• Oligozoospermia/oligospermia=Low sperm concentration (<15 x10^6million/mL)
• Azoospermia (no sperm in the ejaculate)
• Asthenozoospermia (total motility <40%)
• Teratozoospermia (<4% normal forms)
• Idiopathic: no specific cause determined
• There are also other parameters on a SA including volume, pH, debris, agglutination, leukocytes, immature germ cells

Male factor infertility is actually thought to be a contributing factor 50% of cases, but sadly it is severely under researched and under-talked about.  I highly suggest seeing a urologist who specializes in male factor infertility if you are dealing with this. There are some treatments out there, although most of them don’t have great research backing them.  I’ve even read that some physicians recommend couples with moderate to severe male factor infertility skip all other treatments and go straight to IVF with ICSI. Yikes! That escalated quickly….luckily Josh’s urologist is hopeful that medical therapy will help and we won’t have to go that route, at least not just yet. He is currently taking Clomid–yep, CLOMID! Who knew men could take that?!?!  The way it works is that it selectively blocks estrogen receptors, removing the negative feedback cycle to the brain. This makes the brain produce more LH and FSH, which in turn boosts testosterone production and spermatogenesis.  From what urologist tells us this is effective in improving SA parameters in about 50% of men.  Luckily it is pretty well tolerated by guys, and Josh hasn’t had any crazy side effects yet (although he does tell me he’s been craving chocolate….weird….)

I often feel for my Josh because I can’t imagine what it must be like to be in his shoes. After his very first semen analysis I got the results through a phone call with my REI.  Josh was at work. My heart just sank.  I was left with the task of telling him that his counts were low and that he needed to do a repeat analysis.  At the time I thought we had something to blame it on, because, after all, he had collected the sample at home and no one told him to keep it at body temperature while driving to the lab.  In addition, he had been on methotrexate (a chemotherapeutic drug) for terrible atopic dermatitis.  To add to the fun, spermatogenesis takes an average of 74 days so he had to stop the medication and wait 2 1/2 months to do a repeat analysis.  2 1/2 more months before we have answers?!?! My God that seems like an eternity.  Silly me, thinking I’d get answers…so here we were a few months later at the urologist’s office after his second SA.  This time there was no medication effecting it and the sample was collected at the lab site.  Unfortunately all of his parameters were still low.

I asked him if he would consider writing a guest post for the blog but he’s not much of a writer, nor a feeling share-er.  I think he sometimes now feels like our infertility is his fault. Like he is broken. You know, the things we often feel ourselves as women who can’t get pregnant. And I’m not going to lie I have maybe contributed to this notion unknowingly a time or 2.  “Less than 4 alcoholic beverages a week hunny…” “Are you going to start running again soon?” “Dessert AGAIN tonight?”  Here I am constantly reminding him of all the lifestyle changes he can make to try to improve his SA, and every single time all he hears is, “This is your fault.”  How unfair and outright mean of me.  I know we are in this together. And I tell him out of one side of my mouth that exact thing, that there is no one to blame and that it is just something we are facing together.  But I guess out of the other side of my mouth I’m backhandedly saying “Just work harder and we’ll get pregnant.” I should really stop that.

 

 

 

 

26.2

26.2…you know, those bumper stickers you see on everyone’s car? The miles in a marathon. A goal, an achievement, a right of passage of sorts…Anyone who has run a marathon knows that the race (and the training!) will test and try you both physically and mentally.  That is why I find this verse so fitting.  So much so that I have designed my next tattoo around it to celebrate finishing my first marathon.

But Aimee, this is supposed to be a blog about infertility, what the heck kind of tangent are you on now?!?!  My point is that this journey through infertility often feels like a marathon in many ways.  It’s long, it’s hard, you go through phases, sometimes you even hit the wall. It is definitely testing and trying me, examining my heart and mind in many ways. And I guarantee I will not be the same person when I get to the other side, no matter what that looks like.

Marathon training is long and grueling. There are days that you look forward to your run and days that you just do it because your schedule says you should. (Kind of like that timed intercourse thing huh?! 😜) And any good training plan mixes things up. Long slow distance runs, speed intervals, tempo runs, cross training….just like we are constantly mixing it up trying to find what works for baby making…there’s lots of theories out there about the best way to train for a race, just like there’s plenty of theories about the best way to get knocked up. Daily intercourse….no you should make it every other day….time it for the day of ovulation…or should you time it for the few days prior when the CM is most hospitable? Hey, I have and idea, maybe you should stand on your head after intercourse!! Cut down caffeine, cut out alcohol, cut out dairy, cut out gluten, lose weight (but not too much!)…take weird supplements, EAT MORE PINEAPPLE!!! As we all know, there’s even horrible advice on how to do it too.  One of my most favorite quotes I read on an infertility blog is, “I will throat punch you if you tell me to get drunk, or just go on vacation and relax!”

Once the training is done the race itself also comes with many ups and downs.  At the beginning there is so much excitement, anticipation, adrenaline….nothing can stop you! That was me our first couple of months of trying. I never even considered that we wouldn’t be finishing the race.

Confession: I’m guilty of having parked in the “New and Expectant Mothers” parking space occasionally in the past. I always told Josh “I expect to be a mother some day,” and would pull right in. What an ass hole I was, huh? Is this karma coming back to get me?!?! That’s pretty much the equivalent if saying I’m just gonna run a marathon, no training necessary.  I actually believed that having a kid would be as easy as everyone around me makes it seem. I had a friend tell me once, “I didn’t expect [husband] to sneeze on me and get me pregnant.” Damn, add this to the list of things not to say to a woman struggling to conceive….

Anyway, back to the race, somewhere along the way you start to question what the heck you were thinking getting yourself into this.  In Pittsburgh that’s usually right around Birmingham bridge, a long gradual uphill followed by a steep climb up Forbes. It’s definitely the most infamous portion of the course.  The trick is to just put one foot in front of the other and not look up the hill. I’m trying to keep that in mind through this journey right now.  The more I look ahead at what may be in store for us the more scared and stressed and neurotic I get.  I’m doing my best to not look up the hill and to just take it one month, one cycle at a time.

During the course there are miles when you feel like all you can do is focus on getting through that particular mile, and there are times when you settle into a little groove and miles start rolling by.  You might even get a second wind when you hit a section with good crowd support, and the next thing you know you’ve conquered a few miles.  Of course you may also “hit the wall” and have no idea how or if you’re even going to finish.

I feel like this is exactly the same oscillation of motivation and emotions I’ve been going through while TTC.  Sometimes I’m super motivated and on top of things and hopeful while other times I’m at the edge of a cliff ready to give up and start planning our kid-free life.

Which brings me back to my original point (see, I may be tangential but I’ll get there eventually….) This journey through infertility is often long and windy. Most of you probably know this. If you’re new to the game, perhaps you haven’t experienced it yet. Things seem to take forever and a day. And there is just no way to map it out, no AAA trip tick. Even when you think you have a good plan in place, “Hey-o, AF here, staying on vacay for a little longer. See ya next Tuesday!” 😂

And at each juncture it seems like something extra comes up and adds on a mile or 2. We are currently on a little detour while Josh takes some medication that’s supposed to give his boys swimming lessons (more to come on that later). I may have said this once or twice but I am a huge planner. And none of this is fitting into my plans. My plan was to have 2 kids and be sterilized by age 30….here I am 3 1/2 years past that and still trying for one. Once we realized things weren’t going to come so easy I set out a plan that entailed starting IUI in June/July.  Welp, here we are and IUI isn’t even an option right now.  Why do I keep making these plans? Setting these deadlines? It’s ridiculous but I can’t help myself. One of the biggest things I’m learning on this journey is patience and making adjustments. Which, all in all, isn’t such a bad lesson. I may be tired, and hot, and sweaty and blistered, but for now im going to dig deeper and keep pushing, keep hoping, keep running towards the finish line hoping to get that medal at the end that makes it all worth it, because this is one DNF I’m not ready to accept.

“Abstract ideas for 500, Alex”

A natural instinctive state of mind deriving from one’s circumstances, mood, or relationships with others

What is Emotion?

We don’t often think about the exact definition of words we use, because we just inherently understand them. But when you start to reflect I feel like often times it’s hard to actually put a definition to these kinds of things. What are emotions, anyway? And who the heck knew it was possible to go through so many of them in one short 8 hour period?!?!

So I wake up this morning to 2 pictures of my good friend’s new bundle of joy. 12 hours old…he’s just the cutest little thing with the chubbiest of cheeks that I just can’t wait to squeeze! I immediately feel joy for my friend who just had her first beautiful baby boy. What an amazing thing to create life. The joy is short-lived and followed by tears and sadness that I can’t experience that kind of love and pure bliss. Then suddenly I start to feel disdain for myself. Why am I even allowing myself to think this way? To be jealous of her? Today is her day, Aimee, get over yourself! Why can’t I just be happy without always letting it come back to me? I’m selfish. That’s what it is. Pure selfishness. And then even more anger towards myself for being a selfish ass hole.

Since there’s no way I’m falling back asleep now I get up, get my morning cup of joe and curl up on the couch to watch GMA, my morning ritual, and soon enough I get distracted by the mundane noise of the day. Thank goodness. Cuz whatever was happening in my head this morning was just more than enough for one day.  Soon I put on my big girl pants and head out to do some adulting (i.e. errands). While in one store, I walk past the baby section and just have to go grab a few things for the little man whose birth day was yesterday. I usually try to take a happy birthday present when I first meet my friends’ children. And let’s face it, tiny anything, clothing included, is adorable.   So into the abyss of baby clothes I can’t get enough of I go. My emotions swing back and forth a million times looking through the racks. “Oh my gosh so cute I have to get this one!” Joy. There it is again. And just like that back to sorrow that I’m buying these clothes for someone else and not myself. “But oh my gosh look at this one! If we have a daughter she would be just so precious in this! Maybe I should just buy it now and store it for that day.” What is this feeling? I’m almost excited about the possibility of swaddling my unborn, unconceived daughter in the cutest little clothes. And suddenly again the reality that this will maybe never be my reality strikes. So I sullenly walk away from the rack with a few adorable items for my friend’s new bundle of joy. Of course for the rest of my errands I can’t seem to get away from pregnant ladies and people pushing baby strollers.

Luckily I make it out alive and not much worse for the wear, and I get home to hubby and my 2 fur babies. All is right in the world again. Fast forward a few hours, we lay down to try to catch a quick nap, but I can’t seem to fall asleep because my mind is again running through every emotion there is. First I’m thinking about how cute that little nugget is and how I can’t wait to meet and hold him. Then I’m hit with extreme sadness when I start to think about my friend holding him so softly on her chest, and all I can think about is that may never be me. Here I am, right back to absolute dread about the day I finally accept that motherhood is not for me…..

This roller coaster of emotions is insane some days. Funny, I thought I was through the worst of it and had come to terms with this diagnosis. I thought I was going to rise above, be stronger than this. Maybe I will never really be through the hurt and the pain. Maybe I’m just not supposed to be yet. Maybe I don’t ever really want to be because that would mean I’ve given up.

But first….abstain..

Funny how in this world of trying to conceive abstinence is even a thing right?!?!? Pretty sure life is playing a sick joke on us this month.  Just have to keep reminding myself that something bigger and better must be coming down the pike….

July is a good month right? What’s wrong with July? Nothing….except it’s A WHOLE MONTH AWAY!! Ugh.  Time to pack our schedule fuller than ever so it goes quick.

I wish I had something meaningful to say about this but honestly my mind is pretty empty right ow except for WTF haha.  I think I need a vacation….or a drink….or both…

Onward towards July!!

 

When…if…when?

My entire life, as far back as I can remember, I planned on having kids and being a mom one day. “When I have kids this,” and, “When I have kids that,” and “I wanna do this or that before I have kids.” My kids have names for God’s sake! Hell, I’ve made a whole lot of life decisions based on my future kiddos. And for 33 years it was always “when.”

But now, in this 34^th year of life, while facing this battle with infertility, I have consciously shifted my thinking to “if.” “If we have kids this,” or “If we have kids that.” I’ve even begun the “Well if we don’t have kids we can [blank] instead…” Some of the [blank]s sound like they could be a lot of fun, but to be honest with you none of them seem to compare to the idea of being a mom…

Recently when talking to a friend of mine I made a comment about “Well if we have a kid….” and she quickly stopped me in my tracks and said, “When….when you have kids….” I wish I still had the same ever so sure attitude, but every month when AF shows up I can’t help but start to wonder. So now I say “if” and not “when.” Is it because I’ve given up and lost all hope? No. At least I don’t think so. I still hope and wish and dream and pray about being a mom. I guess the “if” is a way to try and protect myself from the repeated letdowns. A way to try and slowly get myself right with the idea of never having kids. Because it’s the one thing I just can’t seem to wrap my mind around, and I really just don’t know what the future holds. For the first time in my life it doesn’t matter how hard I work at it or how much effort I put in. The outcome is not within my control. So maybe I’m just hoping to convince myself to be okay with it.

There’s all kinds of hope and assured-ness by my friends about my future as a mom… “There are many ways to be a parent.” “You’ll get there one way or another.” I truly appreciate the positivity because some days mine is at an all time low and I need a little help from my army. And I’d like to keep thinking that I will definitely be a mom one day too. But I don’t know if IUI or IVF will work, or if I have the emotional strength to battle through multiple cycles and failed procedures, or if we even WANT to consider surrogacy, or if we do some day decide adoption is for us will we even be lucky enough to be chosen as parents? And will we be able to even afford this whole process? My mind is a whirlwind of questions surrounding what we can and will pursue, and today is not the day I’m gonna figure it out. Would I love to keep on keeping on with the, “When I have a baby…” talk? Sure would. But I’m also a realist. So for now I’m choosing to say “if,” and hopefully one day soon I’m brave enough to go back to “when.”