#Microblog Mondays: Daily Doldrums


Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.


Life has been pretty quiet lately, besides telling our family that we are finally pregnant, and dealing with prenatal appointments we haven’t had a lot going on. We have had a busy couple of years, besides dealing with infertility treatments (which can monopolize a lot of time) we’ve had weddings, nieces born, many trips, and just life in general. It used to be on the weekends and days off we had lots of running around to do, and there was never enough time to get everything done.

But now, since we came home from Hawaii, first saw our baby’s heartbeat, and settled back into routines, life has slowed considerably. Perhaps it’s because we are watching this pregnancy progress day by day, that time feels slower. We don’t seem to have much to occupy our time, so we spend lazy days at home (which to some may sound great, and for a time it is but after a while it’s just boring). J gets restless, he is not the idle type. We don’t want to get too ahead of ourselves in planning for baby and I want to enjoy this time, being pregnant, just the two of us, and quiet downtime that will surely disappear once baby comes.

We’ve been living the past two and a half years in a constant state of waiting; for the next cycle, next treatment, in a heightened level of stress and willing time to move forward to the point where the goal is finally achieved. Once you reach that point, the sudden halt in anything infertility related is a bit of a jolt. Not that I wish to be back at that point in my life, so for now, I’ll take boring any day.

On My Own Terms


This weekend we officially moved into our new condo. It feels like it’s been a long time coming, and taken a lot of blood, sweat and tears. J’s parents came on Saturday to help us start moving things from our previous home, on the second floor, to our new home on the fourth, and top, floor. You’d think it’d be a pretty easy move, only 2 floors up, but you still have to pack all of your things to get them from point A to point B. We didn’t need a lot of help, since our tenants don’t take possession of our old unit until Nov. 15, but we did need some assistance with larger items, and some of the cleaning.

We went appliance shopping Saturday morning, and J’s mom had already arrived just before we headed out. She was going to help finish cleaning our new unit so it was ready to bring all of our belongings up. We left for a few hours, and while we were out J’s dad and brother arrived as well and sent J a text to ask what they could start moving. I told J I’d really prefer if they waited for us to come home before they started moving anything, as I’d rather be there to supervise since the majority of our house was not packed and I didn’t really want them just chucking stuff in boxes.

When we got home they were just hanging out waiting for us, and wanted to get going as soon as we walked in the door. So, we immediately started disassembling things, packing items away and loading already packed boxes onto a cart to be taken upstairs. There were 5 of us all together, including J and myself, and I felt overwhelmed with the magnitude of the task at hand. Boxes started leaving, most of the contents of our spare room was quickly whisked upstairs. Our mattress was moved upstairs, so I began the task of taking apart our bed so the pieces could be moved. I saw my father in law leave with an armload of coats from our spare room closet, things I hadn’t yet packed were being thrown into boxes and moved upstairs.

Anxiety was creeping up my neck as I noticed an empty front closet, a cartload of a mishmash of items. J came in from having just taken our massive couch upstairs, to ask me where my keys were, when he saw me just standing in chaos with a screwdriver in my hand, looking lost. He asked me what was wrong, and it all became too much. I was freaking out, I told him, I didn’t know where my keys were because I didn’t know where my coat was. Things were just getting out of hand. I felt bad that I wanted everyone to stop moving things, because I knew they were just trying to help, but I needed to sort through my own things, pack them the way I wanted, so I knew what was what, and not be rushed. I told J that I appreciated everyone helping, but I would prefer they help with the big things and leave the smaller stuff to us.

J went off to tell his dad to slow down, to let us pack things before they got taken upstairs, and the flurry of motion slowed down. Later, J’s dad and I rode the elevator up with a load of things, and he apologized for getting ahead of himself but I felt as though he thought I was being a little unreasonable, and he just trying to be helpful. J’s family helped move the rest of our large items, and then J’s dad asked if they were needed any further. We told them no, thank you, but we should be able to manage the rest and they excused themselves to leave.

J and I spent the rest of the evening carefully and orderly packing, and unpacking things. We organized the kitchen to our liking, spent time deciding what should go where. Cleaning things as we went along and making decisions on the layout of our new home. It felt good, just him and I working together.

Earlier in the day when I saw J’s dad moving a load of coats out of our spare room, I also spied a little bib in the pile. A bib that I bought in May of 2012, just before we started trying for a baby. At the time that I bought it, I was buying other items for my best friend who was about to have her first child. I saw the bib which said “Daddy’s Little Monster” and I had to get it. J calls our dogs his little monsters, and it just felt fitting, and exciting for the new chapter of our lives that we were about to begin. After so much time has passed, it just hurts seeing that bib hanging in the closet. The closet in the room that was meant to be for our baby, instead filled with old coats, luggage and other odds and ends we haven’t had to find another home for.

I have fertility related products strewn all throughout our house. Estrogen, antibiotics and prenatals in the spare bathroom; a multitude of vitamins and minerals in the cupboard above the stove, ovulation predictor sticks under the sink; and a pregnancy book in my night stand. I hastily tucked items away as J’s parents were pulling open closets and drawers.

It felt like an invasion of privacy all over again. Infertility has taken so much. I can’t bear to look at the bib in my spare room closet, I want to throw out the pregnancy book in my nightstand (yet can’t for the hope that I may need it). I want to quit with the meds, I don’t want to have multiple doctors probe me multiple times, to be able to impregnate me without my husband even being present.

When first trying to conceive, you feel as though it is on your terms. You decide when to throw out the birth control, because a spring baby would suit you, you finally paid off the student loans, you bought the big house, you scored the big promotion. And so you try, with excitement each month, until the excitement starts to wane, frustration takes its place and frustration gives way to worry.

As I am about to start the meds this week for my second attempt at an FET, I have hope that some of it may still be on my own terms. Let the meds do their job, and let us please get to transfer before Christmas.

The Next Generation


So far between my cousins and I, there is only one child (there will be two more when my cousins wife has their twins). Being that I’m an only child my mom has no grandchildren, and I know she desperately wants one (or several, but let’s be reasonable at this point).

My mom and I went out for coffee on Wednesday and we I pretty much skirt the issue of TTC nowadays. She did mention, however, that my grandma asked her when we might be having kids. I just said, “oh, did she?” and didn’t get any further into it. Didn’t ask how she responded, or give her any sort of answers. I know that might be a bit of a dick move but at this moment in time I am not ready to have that discussion. Especially not in the middle of a busy Starbucks, in case I dissolved into tears at having to explain the situation we’re facing. Plus if this IUI does work I still don’t want to tell anyone until around 10 or 12 weeks.

But what really got me thinking is the fact that my grandma was asking about my future children. My grandma has early stages of dementia and is having a hard time remembering things, and she repeats herself a lot. It’s gotten a fair bit worse over the past year or so and it is so hard. I’ve only ever met my paternal grandma once, so my maternal grandma is the one whose been around all my life. She treats me more special than my cousins, and I have a pretty close relationship with her.

So it is sad to think that if this cycle doesn’t work, by the time we do have a baby she may not be all there to remember me, or realize it’s my baby. And that is really hard to consider. Sooo, what I’m saying, as usual, is that I really hope this works.

In other news, J is really stressed out. He told me the result of the IUI is pretty much all he thinks about lately (ditto). In previous cycles he’s not really said to much about how he’s feeling about it. He pretty much just waits until I tell him it’s negative and we go again. Not so this time, everything feels so different, yes still the same this time. I’m getting antsy. And starting to feel a bit of the usual barely there PMS cramping. Not feeling so hopeful…

21 Day Relationship Challenge: Day 2


Yes, I know I missed yesterday, but apparently I signed up too late in the evening on Tuesday so they skipped sending me day 2 until this morning instead of yesterday. So getting right down to it; today’s “step” is Give Gold Stars. I’ve decided I’ll post each except from the email so you can read it yourself and it’s not just me paraphrasing it to what I’ve gleaned from it;

“No surprise, studies show that receiving a partner’s “affective affirmation”—psych-speak for one person’s actions or words to make the other person feel loved, appreciated, desired, and supported—is very important to happiness. Who doesn’t love to get a gold star?
As a gold-star junkie myself, I was intrigued by researchers’ arguments that men need more gold stars from their partners than women do, because women get much more positive support outside marriage. Family members, colleagues, friends of both genders, and even strangers give more frequent affirmation to women than to men. Men, by contrast, depend much more on their partners for empathy and intimacy.
This prompted me to adopt the resolution to “Give gold stars.”
How? I tell my husband “I love you” more often. I try to be helpful even when he hasn’t asked for help—say, by bringing him aspirin if he has a headache. I thank him even for something that’s “his” job. I email him sweet photos of the girls. I try to be accommodating if he wants to go to the gym, leave a party early, work over the weekend, or when he asks me the same question over and over.
Resolve to “Give gold stars”—you make your partner feel more beloved, and at the same time, you make yourself feel more loving”

I felt like this was another one that I am fairly proficient at. I try and show appreciation for the things J does for me, to let him know I appreciate him (and also to reaffirm the things I would like him to continue doing, so shoot me, I may be using it as a dual purpose). When J cooks dinner I always thank him for the meal, if he cleans the house I thank him for his work (even if he doesn’t do it the way I like). I don’t give J a hard time if he wants to go out with his friends, or do something that is “for him”. He will call me to “ask” if he can do something, but really he’s just making sure we don’t have plans and letting me know he’s making plans, he doesn’t think he has to get my permission to do something. And I take pride in being a fairly chill wife.

Sometimes it’s hard to be appreciative if I am in a particular mood, or if he’s doing other things that are pissing me off. But it is something good to be mindful of. So I will continue to dole out the gold stars.

Now onto another matter, what we’re really all here to talk about. My uterus. Or your uterus. Our collective uteri (yup that’s the plural of uterus). Mine is doing nothing so far, AF has not arrived but neither has a BFP. I tested again this morning. I wasn’t going to but then J asked me last night if I was and I said no, I didn’t want to waste a test and he said “well what about the one you did on Tuesday?”. Touche. And he doesn’t know about the one on Monday. Or yesterday. So I did it just to see, and still nothing. I have a  requisition for bloodwork to test for hCG on Saturday so if AF is still a no show I will go, but I am banking on her Royal Red Highness showing tomorrow.

I was feeling pretty strong today, but then a client chewed me out (for something that I had already explained to him, but he didn’t understand it at the time and then when he looked it over he was mad). And then I felt crappy, like I might want to have a little cry. I hate when people ruin my day like that. I am moving past it now but I just took it too personally at the time. So I’m going to be keeping a watchful eye on my undies in the coming days, but I have a busy weekend planned so even if CD1 is imminent I will be well distracted. Happy Thursday!

Superstition, Serendipity or Coincidence…Whatever You Call It, It Ain’t Workin’


Greetings fellow infertiles, and bloggers alike! I am currently hanging out in a mountain chalet enjoying the scenery, the quiet time and not having to do or be anywhere. Plus I’m finding I sort of lose track of the day of the week or the date so our impending IUI is sneaking up without me realizing it which is kind of nice. Some times the first two weeks of a cycle can be just as painful as the two week wait after ovulation. I finished my clomid on Friday and have had very minimal symptoms. So far. No headaches this cycle, but I have gotten to enjoy some mild hot flashes. For a perpetually chilly person it was very odd for me to be stripping off layers.

I’ve been very reflective as of late, due to the New Year approaching, and also because infertility puts a microscope on your life. In my reflective musing I’ve noticed that I’ve become more superstitious, regarding infertility. I am an extremely analytical and logical person so this is not in my nature. But I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, infertility makes you crazy!

Case and point, I was just thinking about the day that our IUI might fall on, and I’m betting (and hoping for) Jan. 3. For one I have the morning off work, but also because 3 is my lucky number. Also, if it were to work on Jan. 3 it would make my due date Sept. 26, which is my hubby’s birthday as well as his mothers. I know of people who wear lucky socks for IUI’s or IVF treatments (I don’t like socks, otherwise I would be all over this). I can tell you I will be wearing something purple on the day of the IUI.

I also fear I’ve done things to jinx myself, which again I know is stupid. But before we started ttc I knew my mother in law as chomping at the bit for us to have kids, and I said to a friend, “won’t she feel bad if I end up not being able to get pregnant”. Um, yup pretty sure she probably does now, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. In fact I feel, like shit too so that comment came back to bite me in the ass.

I also have a pregnancy “guide book” in my night stand that I bought a few months before we started trying, because it had some preconception stuff in it, and I figured I would need the rest of the chapters fairly shortly after that purchase anyways. And I may have read ahead to see what was In my future. Yeah that was a bit premature and now that book burns and calls to me from the drawer. I almost want to throw it out just out of spite.

Another purchase like this that I have in my house, sending out its siren call is a cute little bib hanging in our spare room (to be nursery) closet. I bought it a couple of months before we started ttc because I was out buying things for the baby my friend was about to have and I couldn’t resist. It had a cute saying on it that was sone thing special between J and I. It’s the only baby related thing I’ve allowed myself to buy, but again it was a bit a lot premature.

I keep thinking, if I only did this, or only did that maybe it would have worked by now. But I know that’s not really the case. It’s science, biology and maybe a little bit of luck. I’m already thinking forward to the next IUI in February (if we get to that one) and the serendipitous circumstances it could bring. If we end up doing an IUI in February we will find out if it worked or not on or around my birthday.

On my 27th birthday I may be standing at a fork in the road, each offering big change. Either I will head towards motherhood, or looking at uprooting our lives for a different adventure. It will offer some relief either way, and I can’t wait to move from the spot I’ve been standing in for too long.