My Dirty Little Secret


This is probably something I shouldn’t admit on a blog about trying to have a child. But I don’t like kids. Not really anyways. I mean I love my neices, and my friends kids, but do I want to spend a lot of time with them? Not particularly. Stay with me I promise I’m going somewhere with this.

There was a point in my life that I questioned if I even wanted kids (in the not-so-distant past). J and I weren’t ready to start trying yet, but we always made mention of our future child/children and it got me thinking; do I want kids, or is it just what’s been ingrained into me? Was I just following the traditional order of things, that’s what you do, grow up, get married, have children? I had never stopped to question it until it was bearing down on me. But after giving it a lot of thought, I felt like I would always regret it if I didn’t have a child/children, and J is my perfect man, and I want HIS child/children.

Even still, creating another life, one that you are responsible for and will change you forever is a big and scary thing, so for the first few months of trying, when I would get a negative test or my period would arrive I would have a slight sigh of relief (along with annoyance and frustration). It’s funny how you can want something, but also be scared to have it. After several months of trying though, it made me realise how deeply I do want a child. It has made me hyper aware of moms and moms-to-be and I’m jealous that they have what I want. The sigh of relief has completely faded and the dissapointment grows with each failed cycle.

But back to the fact that I am not a “kid person”. This was another reason I wasn’t really sure I should have kids. How can you want kids, yet not like them? Well, the way I see it, is I just am not a huge fan of other people’s kids. I know I will love and adore my own child/children. How do I know? Well let me tell you a little story, that made me understand a mother’s love.

I have two dogs (I know, I know, before you roll your eyes, I realise dogs are not children) that are my fur babies. Growing up I had a cat, who I loved to death, and I never really was a dog person. The year J and I started dating, him and his brother (who lived together at the time) got a dog. A little, adorable white furball of a thing. He was very cute, and fairly mild mannered so I didn’t mind him, but he wasn’t my dog. Even when J’s brother moved away and left the dog with J and I he still wasn’t really my dog (even though, technically he was now). His master was J (even though we both took care of him) and that’s who he loved the most.

When I still lived at home, my first beloved kitty had to be put down, but my mom and I hated having an empty house with no kitty, so I adopted another (grown) cat. Shortly thereafter I moved in with J and had to leave the cat behind because J is deathly allergic. I had always wanted to get another cat, but with J’s allergies I had to face facts that that wasn’t going to happen. So if I couldn’t have a cat I decided I was going to get myself a little cat-like dog. So after doing tons of research on different breeds, I threw caution to the wind and we adopted a rescue dog of unknown origins. He was just a little guy, but he was only 4 months so we figured he’d get a little bigger, but still small enough to be a lap dog.

Turns out his paperwork was wrong, and he was 9 months old, and fully grown at 9 lbs. This time I truly felt like he was my dog; I had to interview to get him (that’s right folks, I had to submit to a character interview for a dog, yet every day idiots get pregnant by accident). I got to pick his name (well, I changed it from what the rescue society had named him), his bed, his toys, and him. He’s really cute, but a bit funny looking from his mixed breeds (whatever he is). A face only a mother could love, says my mom. Though lots of other people think he’s cute too. His personality wins everyone over (now do I sound like a mom or what!?). We’ve had him for a little over two years now and I could not love the little guy more. He is my baby and I would do anything for him.

But the thing is, I’m still not really a dog person. I am definitely more tolerable of them, and I do think a lot of them are super adorable, but I mostly just like my dog. Dogs are a pretty big responsibility, he is a lot of work, and sometimes he pisses me off but I still love him more everyday. As silly as this sounds it made me realise that if I love a dog this much, I can’t even imagine how it would feel to have my own little person. I think my heart could burst.

So I have my fur babies, and J and I love them dearly, but I still have more love to give.  The thought of parenthood still freaks me out (but seriously, who isn’t nervous for that kind of responsiblity?) but do I want it wholeheartedly? Heck yes. So bring it on Universe. I’m waiting…!

*I use child/children because at this point we might have to stop at just one. If we’re even so lucky.


*This is not me, but I figured the photo capture my sentiment perfectly.

Life’s A Bitch


My best friend and I tell each other everything. She has been my confidante along the way, as I give her all the dirty details of everything that has been going on with us. She had her first child, an adorable little boy, in August 2012, the same month that we started to try to conceive. She has been waiting along with me for my elusive BFP. She has been a great support, listener, and friend. Even though sometimes what I was talking about may have gone over her head as I digressed into acronyms and medical jargon. She never faltered in her support, or kind words. I truly felt she was in it with me.

And then she really was. Some time before her sons 1st birthday, her and her husband decided they wanted another. So again, she ditched the birth control and went back at it. She had had some wonky cycles after her son was born, even once she was back on birth control, so when she came off of it again it did not even out. She ended up having an almost 60 day cycle, in which point she contact her Dr. who agreed that, yes, it was cause for concern.

First we were discussing my infertility, but now we were looking at hers. Her Dr. ordered the standard gambit of tests, and referred her to another Dr. (not sure if it was a RE or OB/GYN) with a recommendation of starting Clomid. I hated that she had to join me in the trenches, even though it would be nice to have someone who truly understood, I could never wish this on anyone.

She knew I had recently seen my RE but we didn’t really get into the details at this point, I was very busy and we hadn’t seen each other in a while. For the first time I didn’t tell her of our impending fertility plans, including the IUI. Not until I had already done it at least. I mentioned to J that it would be very hard to keep this secret from her if it ended up being a pregnancy, as I was going to see her the day AF was due (or not). So he said that he would be ok if I told her if we were pregnant, but would wait to tell everyone else (love this guy). So after this discussion, I turned to my phone to tell her that we had done an IUI, and I should know the results by Nov. 23, a night we just happened to have a movie date.

So I went on my business trip, and managed to make it until 13DPO until I busted out the cheapie internet tests. Stark. White. Faaaack. Ok, wasn’t overly hopefully anyways, moving forward. I text BFF to break the news to her now, instead of tomorrow, because why ruin a perfectly good movie date with shitty news like that. AF showed the next day, so a night out at a sappy movie shovelling junk food into my face sounded awesome!

We meet up, had some idle chit chat, and for once do not discuss TTC (which is a first). We saw About Time, with Rachel McAdams (who I love) which was made by the same people who did Love, Actually (which I also love). But I have to say, not all that impressed. So we start heading out of the theatre, ready to part ways but as we head out the doors BFF stops, and says she has something to tell me, and immediately gets teary. In my gut I knew already. We don’t ever not talk about TTC, and by this point she should have been started on Clomid, and she hadn’t mentioned it at all. She never actually said the words, but she didn’t have to. Her tears told me. She is pregnant.

She didn’t know right away because she was having what she thought was just another really long cycle, but before she called her Dr. again she decided to test, just so she could get it over with and know that it was negative. Except that it wasn’t. And then she was waiting to see me so that she could tell me she was pregnant, and I would tell her that I was too, and it would be amazing. Except that I wasn’t. And so it was most definitely not amazing as I stood comforting my crying friend in the cold night, outside of a movie theatre, because she was pregnant and I wasn’t.

And that is the day I lost my “person”. We recently went out to the mall together, along with her son. It was a bit awkward. We didn’t talk about what was coming down the fertility treatment pipeline for me next. It’s just weird now. She’s 11 weeks pregnant. By the time she found out she was already around 6 weeks, and by the time she told me 8 weeks. As soon as I found out she was pregnant I turned into myself, and ever since I feel like I’ve been drowning in my own thoughts. So that is one of the reasons, I am here, blogging my little heart out. Thanks for listening.


Pulling Out All the Stops


Today I did something that I would have previously never considered. It’s something a lot of people have done, and do. Infertility or no, it’s growing in popularity. I am a very analytical person, I like facts, figures, science. I do not have a spiritual side, I am not religious. So this went against my nature, but more and more there have been stats to back the results of acupuncture. I know, I know, tons of people do it. It’s no big deal!

I have never delved into any Eastern medicine, even during this journey of infertility. Not that acupuncture is the same as strange herbs, or tea made with who-knows-what, but still. I probably should have been on this sooner, but I just recently got added to J’s benefit plan through work that covers things like, fertility drugs (but not treatment, figure that one out), massage, and acupuncture (among other things, lucky I know). So I figured I may as well take advantage of said benefits. I’ve read things about acupuncture being good for fertility and being used as a complement to IUI, so I figured why not. It can’t hurt, right?

Well, no it doesn’t. Not really. It was a very weird feeling, the needles going in was just a little tap and poke. There were a couple that were a bit uncomfortable, and I have a funny teeny little bruise on my collar bone, but otherwise it was just…strange. It’s hard to describe, but it felt like the area around the needle was being drawn in. As if the needle was a magnet, and my skin magnetic. It was very odd. I had one in my forehead, right between my eyebrows and it made me feel like I was permanently furrowing my eyebrows. There was also one in the top of my head, that at one point she turned. Ewww, that was a gross feeling. It still felt a bit hippy-dippy, like the acupuncturist was talking about my energies, and the yin and yang of my cycle. All sounded a bit hocus pocus to me, but I can’t say it felt like nothing. So that’s something.

Despite the fact that I wasn’t totally sold on it, I did book another appointment for next week. I also have a massage booked the same day, as well as yoga every Sunday. Yoga is more just because I enjoy it, but again, I don’t really connect with the spiritual side of it. Luckily I do it at a community rec centre, not a yoga studio, so there is no incense, or super hardcore yogis. Just regular folk getting’ their yoga on.

I do have to add a side note that the place I went for my acupuncture listed fertility acupuncture on their website, as well as pregnancy acupuncture. Because they are a spa/boutique for mommies to be. So it was real fun when I walked in to be greeted with maternity photos, and all sorts of pregnancy and baby related goods. I sooo felt like I didn’t belong. Thank goodness the receptionist didn’t ask me if I was pregnant. Maybe they just assume that. But it seemed like a decent place, it’s close to my house, and the prices are decent. Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to go there as a pregnant woman for some spa time, or a massage or something.

I’ve tried a lot of silly things to help aide my fertility in the past; I’ve done the prop your butt up with a pillow, I’ve drank the green tea, I’ve eaten the pineapple, I’ve taken the Mucinex, I chart my BBT, I take an assortment of supplements (and J does as well). I just last night opened a new bottle of prenatal vitamins. So I’ve been pregnant zero times, yet I’m on my 5th bottle of these suckers. There are 100 in each bottle. So by now I must be, like super healthy or something. Right?

We don’t have a lot of time left before our next IUI so I don’t know if this will make any difference, but we also don’t have a lot of time left on our self-imposed timeline. So I’m pulling out all the stops.


Anonymity & Infertility


Hello out there! I was surprised at how quickly I already gained a few followers, and had some comments on my very first blog post. I had a cooking blog at one point as well, and lemme tell ya, it did not get a lot of traffic. So thanks for those stopping by!

I feel like for the next little while I might be posting (or trying to) everyday, as I’ve had a lot bottled up lately and it’s bursting forward! One of the things I’ve been giving a lot of thought to lately is coming out of the infertility closet. I have a very select few people that even know we are TTC, and I have intentionally kept it that way.

I am a very private person, and this is a very private matter. I did not even want to tell anyone when we started TTC (just in case it took longer, plus I don’t like people thinking about my sex life). I must have some sort of psychic powers, that I saw that one coming. I told my best friend, well, because I tell her everything. We got married the same year, she had her first baby in August 2012 and I lived vicariously through her TTC journey. So she knew the day I threw out the birth control. At that point it was just her (outside of myself and J) that knew, and I liked it that way.

J told his younger brother at some point. His bro and his bro’s wife had their first in Aug. 2011 and were trying for another around the same time, or a little earlier than we had started TTC. J’s brother is a Dr. (in a totally unrelated field, I might add) and had previously succeeded in making children so I think J was maybe looking for some guidance. I was slightly annoyed, but I figured J needed someone to talk to besides me, so fine.

He also told his mother, which I was not as cool with. She was very into her first and only grandchild (my niece) at the time and voiced her wish to have more. Frequently. So when we started looking into why we weren’t pregnant after a year, MIL was privvy to this as well, but it did stop her asking questions, as I think she felt bad for prying before, now that we were having problems. Fine by me. I had actually said as much to a friend, that what if when we started trying we had problems, then wouldn’t she feel bad. Well, yes I’m sure she does. But not as bad as me.

I know J keeps his mom somewhat updated on our process which does bug me, because the only reason my mom even knows that we’re trying/having issues is that I pinned something infertility related on Pinterest and it shared it to my Facebook account (I didn’t really know how to use Pinterest properly at the time, and promptly unlinked the two accounts when my mom mentioned it.). She asked me about it, and I gave her the synopsis. I told her it is upsetting to me, and I don’t like to talk about it, and for the most part she leaves it alone. I know it kills her as I am her only child and she would love grandchildren, but I am thankful that she knows how I am and she does not ask questions unless I am volunteering information (which is rare).

I am not ashamed of the fact that we need help. But I do not offer any information up to people because I don’t need anyone else besides J and I waiting with bated breath to see if this month, is THE month. It is a personal, physically and emotionally difficult, and private process. But, at the same time, I wish people knew so they would stop asking.

Asking when we’re going to have kids, asking how many kids, asking why we don’t have kids yet. It’s getting tiresome. Apparently if you’ve been married for more than 5 minutes you are supposed to be procreating. We purposely didn’t get pregnant for the first 2-ish years of our marriage. We had time (we thought), we didn’t want to rush, we just wanted to enjoy life with eachother. We have done a lot of travelling, we’ve lived in Australia (albeit for a short amount of time) and enjoyed the child-free lifestyle.

I have a friend who like to ask, and pester as to when we’re going to have kids. She is a very sweet person, so I don’t want to be super harsh and say something snarky the next time she asks. I’ve debated sending her a private FB message, so not to embarrass her out in public, or in front of other people but that just seems like a cop out. She just recently (this weekend) was giving me a hard time, in front of a bunch of J’s family members. Luckily I had my mouth full, so I just gave her a tight smile and kept my mouth shut.

I also have to mention that she is a Fertile Myrtle. She has a 2 1/2 yr old, an 11 month old and is currently 5 months pregnant. That last one was an oopsie. When she told me, I instinctivley shrieked, “What?!”. Way to play it cool. But it was a surprise to her, and me, so it wasn’t totally uncalled for. With all three of her pregnancies she has conceived very quickly and easily, so she is the last person who I would expect to understand infertility.

Eventually I would like to be open to people about our struggles (preferably once we are safely pregnant, and not still in the throes of treatment), I just don’t know how to go about it. Facebook seems like a good medium, but sort of impersonal and a bit of an overshare. I don’t like to post a lot of personal type stuff on Facebook, so I’m torn. That is the main reason this blog is fairly anonymous, I’m not quite ready to sing it from the mountaintops. I think if someone knew me, and stumbled on it, they would figure it out pretty fast, but so be it. If they got here, and read all of this, somehow I would have less of a problem with them knowing.

How have any of you come out about your infertility struggles? Or are you still hiding? What’s life like out in the open? Once we are pregnant (if that happens) and announcing it to others I really would like to let them know what it took, so that they don’t just assume I’m a normal fertile. At the same time, I know J might be uncomfortable with this.

But, if us infertiles don’t try and educate the masses, or at least set them straight when they’re being douche-y, then who will?


Hello, my name is…


Infertilty. I’ve taken the plunge and finally decided to start a blog to document my infertility journey. Though it started long before today, I am finally putting pen to paper…? Keystroke to computer? Anyways, I’m not a writer, just a girl whose been struggling (unsuccessfully) for 16 months to create a baby of my very own. I’ve spent a lot of time lurking on other people’s blogs (Stupid Stork, Mine to Command, Sweetest in the Gale, Dreaming of Dimples, Where the Bleep Is Our Stork, and Who Shot Down My Stork, to name a few). I’ve also spent a lot of time in TTC websites chatting with others, but I start to feel like I am going in a circle in those and I want a place of my own to just vent, ask questions, celebrate (for others or myself) and not have to fight through the idle chatter to be heard. That may sound a little narcissistic, but it’s more for me than anyone else. I feel like I might explode if I don’t let it all out, which has led me to the here and now. But not unselfishly, I know there is support to be had out here in blogger land.

I feel like I have so much to say, but I guess the best place to start is to introduce myself. I’m Cassie, 26 years old (almost 27), been married to J (33 years old) for 3.5 years and together for 7.5 in total. We have very much enjoyed our time of just the two of us, we have travelled extensively, and generally do as we please in our childless DINK (double income, no kids) state. But for the past 16 months we’ve been trying to change that status. My dear friend had her first child Aug. 2012, right around the time J and I had decided it was time to ditch the birth control.

I had been on birth control since I was 15 (started out on it because of my terrible acne) and was excited to finally ditch it. I apparently have amnesia and don’t remember what a b*tch Aunt Flo is. So first month out, and I was late (OMG) and thinking I was pregnant. I gotta tell ya I was really naive to this whole TTC thing. I was having all sorts of weird symptoms, sore boobs, bloat, back ache. Of course I had to be pregnant! A few days past my usually dead on 28 day cycle AF finally decided to show. I have to say the first few cycles that this happened I was a tiny bit relieved. Even though the goal was to get pregnant, I didn’t think it would happen immediately (because it took my friend a few months, and of course that’s what I went off of) and I was a bit freaked out. Fast forward to today and I laugh at my idiot self back then.

So I tried to be patient for the first 5 or so months, in January of 2013 I joined a TTC support website and trolled around for a bit before dipping my toe in and speaking up. I have met (in the online sense of the word) some amazing people through this site, which I am very thankful for, but 95% of the people just bug me. This is where I learned all sorts of new things though, like all the lingo, wow was that a learning curve! I learned all about BBT, and figured out that I probably had Luteal Phase Defect. I also realized that I was missing a key TTC ingredient, cervical mucus (sorry, this is going to be one of those TMI blogs). I started taking vitamins and supplements, and using PreSeed (as I didn’t realize that my other lubes…and saliva were hurting our chances). So overall this website was a good experience, but I feel I’ve outgrown it a bit.

After 11 or so months, I schedule an appointment with my GP for a yearly physical and PAP, and also so I could discuss our lack of pregnancy. Like no BFP, at all, ever. She didn’t seem overly concerned (she just had a baby not terrible long ago), suggested I should gain a few pounds (I am on the very bottom of the healthy BMI chart, but have always been a very small person) and come back in 6 months. She did however give me a requisition for some bloodwork, just in case I wasn’t just another overly concerned woman trying to make a baby.

The bloodwork came back showing elevated thyroid levels, which led to a whole gambit of testing to see if I had hyperthyroidism, from what cause, and what should be done about it. I was very stressed at this point because it was suggested to me that I would have to kill off part of my thyroid with radioactive iodine which would prevent me from TTC for another 12 months. I was devastated, but also was not keen on their recommended course of action. Not just because it would interrupt our TTC, but there was a possibility of using meds to get it under control and possibly into remission. But it could be the reason for us not being able to conceive, so although I was very worried, I was almost relieved to have an answer. All moot points because it turned I just had thyroiditis, a temporary inflammation of the thyroid caused by a virus or bacteria. Back to square one. (Though my RE did later put me on Synthroid, a drug to treat the opposite condition, hypothyroidism, as I had very high antibodies for it, and it was only a matter of time)

At this point I was finally able to convince J to get a sperm analysis. And it was not good. The results went back to his GP, who forwarded them on to us. He said it is not his area of expertise, but that he doubted J would be able to get me pregnant. I didn’t entirely understand the results, but they did have normal ranges next to his values, so I was able to get the gist of it. Good motility, good count (I thought), I’m reading, and finally I get to the bottom. He had 0/100 normal morphology. I was heartbroken, even though I didn’t really understand. Of course Dr. Google confirmed my fears, that this was not good. We were very lucky to get referred to a Fertility Clinic, and got in on a cancellation a few short days later, when normally the wait list is 6 – 9 months.

We saw Dr. M who had a charming accent (that I still can’t place) and he was very reassuring. He said we would have to have another SA done, just to confirm that it wasn’t just flukey numbers, and he also explained that it most definitely was not impossible for J to get me pregnant, but it would just take a very long time. We scheduled another appointment to see him a few months down the road to go over our next SA results, and go from there. He left us feeling as though all wasn’t lost, though we were a bit scared to even have had to be going down this road.

Fast forward to our next appointment, and I still hadn’t gotten pregnant. I was hoping it would be a Murphy’s Law kind of thing, seek help and you’ll no longer need it. No such luck. Dr. M didn’t seem as charming as the last time. We waited well past our scheduled appointment (all the while being away from work), then sat in the exam room for another good stretch of time. Dr. M was very busy, and didn’t mince words. The next SA was better, 4% normal forms but he also said J’s count was on the low side of normal (45 million), which was strange for a “young” man. I didn’t realize we were dealing with a low-ish count as well as morphology issues, so that sucked. He advised we try 3 rounds of IUI and if that didn’t work then we would meet again to discuss. At which point I made a face, he agreed, he did not want to have that conversation either. He left an RX for Clomid for me, and told us the nurse would be in to go over the finer details. DH was devastated, he blamed himself and hated that I had to go through what was about to come. I had to open my big mouth before Dr. M came in saying how I hoped we didn’t have to do IUI, blah blah blah, just making it worse without realizing it.

The nurse came in, explained how the IUI would work, that I was to take the 50mg Clomid CD3 – 7, then use OPK’s on the days advised based on my cycle length. Once I got my positive, we would come in for the IUI the next day. All sounded simple enough. The Clomid was easy, to take at least. The headaches were a fun little side effect. The clinic suggested a particular brand of OPK’s to use, as they are supposed to be one of the most accurate. I used to use the smiley face ones, made for Dummies who don’t want to be squinting at two lines trying to decide which is darker. Which is exactly what happened to me when I used the recommended brand. So then I stressed about it, and doubted the result, but went ahead with the IUI the next day anyways. In hindsight, I should have waited one more day.

The day of the IUI was a bit of a nightmare, it was a Saturday, that I was supposed to be working so I had to call and give some lame excuse of why I was going to be in late. J and I got snippy with each other just before we were about to leave and then we both had a bit of a meltdown, the whole situation was a bit much for J. We managed to get out the door, and headed to the clinic in separate cars as I still had to go to work afterwards. We check in and J gave his “specimen” and got an A+ for getting it all in the cup. Then we had some time to kill in the cafeteria as there were 2 couples ahead of us and his baby juice had to be processed. We had some time to apologize to each other for the freakout, and discuss our future. We were much calmer when we went back up to the clinic.

We were taken back to an exam room, and the nurse? (lady who washed and handles the sperm) brought us J’s sample in a test tube in a bag. She went over the stats, 45% motility (I think…a lot of the whole situation is a bit of a blur) and around 49 million sperm, before being washed and the sample halved, so around 25 million post wash. She left us there until the nurse, and then the Dr. were to come. J seemed pretty please about the results, and asked me what I was thinking. I told him I didn’t want to say because I was having negative thoughts, but he pressed. I told him 25 million isn’t that much. I know I am terrible cow who loves to put my foot in my mouth. That dropped his mood. The nurse came in, gave us a requisition for progesterone testing, and the Beta (if AF didn’t show first). Then the Dr. came in (not Dr. M this time), did the procedure, set the timer for 10 minutes that I was to stay lying down. After that, done and dusted.

I headed off to work for the rest of the day, and the next day I had to fly out of town for 9 days on a work trip. That was a blessing in disguise because it was a busy trip and kept me distracted until I got home. By the time I got home I was almost done my TWW. I managed to hold off testing until 13 DPO, which resulted in a BFN, and AF followed the next morning.

I have to admit, I wasn’t overly surprised. I had been having my typical PMS symptoms, and I just felt the whole IUI process didn’t go very smoothly so I didn’t have a lot of hope. So that was the end of cycle 18. This all happened in November, and we decided to take December off. A couple reasons behind this, one being if we were to have another unsuccessful cycle it would land just before Christmas. Miserable. Another reason is both of our nieces were born on the same day (both by C-section, yup my SIL allowed the second one to be scheduled on the first ones birthday) at the end of August, and if we did an IUI in December my due date would be their birthday. Not gonna happen, even if it means sacrificing a cycle. So we are on a break, not trying, not preventing.

It’s been nice not stressing about timing, and tracking, and temping. I’ll start Clomid again just before Christmas (oh joy) and our 2nd IUI should be the first week of January. I will be going back to my smiley OPK’s, and not stressing so much about the IUI as I will be about the result. My RE does not monitor my cycles, so I don’t do a trigger, or have any follicle ultra sounds, which I was kind of surprised about, but because we are treating male factor infertility and I ovulate on my own, I suppose he’s not too worried about me. I would think more monitoring would give us better accuracy though, and then I wouldn’t have to deal with those damn OPK’s.

In any case, if this IUI doesn’t work, and the next one either, we are done. For now at least. We’re exhausted (and I know, we haven’t even been through the half of it). We’ve had other struggles in our life and marriage, and it just feels like the straw that breaks the camel’s back. We’ve talked a lot about moving abroad (we live in Canada now) but this whole TTC situation has kind of put that on hold. We discussed that if we were to get pregnant we would stay put throughout the pregnancy and probably for about a year afterwards. But if don’t get pregnant then there’s nothing holding us back (well besides our families sobbing if we leave them). So it’s nice to have an end in sight, even if it could mean the end of our dream for now.

Neither one of us is willing to pursue IVF at this point, though we will surely have to revisit it at a later time if the IUI’s fail. So this process, if it takes all three IUI’s, will lead us to February. My 27th birthday is in mid February, and we will have an answer/decision by then, either way. It will be a nice gift. I’m tired of our life being on hold.

Phew, thanks for holding on, that was a long one. I’ve been waiting a long time to get it off my chest. I’m glad I decided to join the world of IF bloggers, and I look forward to getting to know some of you along the way. Celebrating the triumph, and mourning the losses.