Holding pattern

I’m 7 dpo, and the antsiness is setting in hardcore. I keep opening up my ovu-tracker app or looking at the kitchen calendar wondering if by some miracle another few days have passed while I wasn’t looking. I was doing so well being patient during the tww the past few months, and all that appears to be out the window this month.

The problem is I’ve put a lot of pressure on this month. The longest it’s taken me to get pregnant in the past is 5 months, and this is our 5th month of trying this go-around. I remember very clearly that by the 5th month last time, I was going totally crazy, positive that my reproductive organs had crapped-out completely. So, the only way I’ve been maintaining some form of sanity (a meager one) this time is by reminding myself it’s taken this long before and still happened. If it doesn’t happen this time though, we’ve moved into entirely new territory. The territory of ‘oh shit, there’s something else wrong here’.

5 months has become an important landmark to me because of this, but when I started doing some reading it turns out its not completely arbitrary. From everything I’ve read, if you’re putting all the things in the right places at the right times so to speak, it should happen within 4-6 months. I’ve done everything I could possibly do this month, bbt and CM charting, minimal caffeine, extra folic acid (on top of a normal prenatal), acupuncture, full-fat dairy, I even started eating fish once a week or so for the omega-3s, despite being vegetarian for 15 years (yup, apparently I’m even willing to bend my principles a little if it will get me a baby). The stars aligned and we tried 3 whole times during my fertile period, and my CM did its grossly fertile thing. If it doesn’t work with all of that, things are just not looking good.

Rather than being totally depressed or anxious about what it will mean if this month fails, I’ve actually been pretty darn optimistic for most of the month. I even went so far as to promise G I’d be pregnant by his birthday (in December). I know, what was I thinking putting that kind of pressure on myself? It happened when we were laying in bed after our last ‘attempt’, knowing we’d done all we could. The topic turned to his birthday, and what he might want as a gift, and I, apparently in a post-sex high said “I know, I’ll get you a baby for your birthday!”. Dumbass. Well, at the time we both thought it was funny, but he’s brought it up a few times since, as if he believes it’ll happen. I had to put a stop to it eventually, explaining that it just feels like a lot of pressure for something I can’t control at all.

In the middle of all this, a friend from a local support group sent me a link to an article about a way to investigate miscarriages. I’d never heard of it, and immediately gears started turning in my head. Basically, what they do is after you’ve had a missed miscarriage (I suppose you’re sort of out of luck if it happens suddenly), they go in with a camera and actually cut through the sac and look at the embryo itself. I’m sure there’s a lot of factors that go in to whether you can do this or not, and whether or not it will work, but this article made it sound like a very simple procedure that theoretically any doc could do.

And what they see is whether the embryo looks essentially normal or not. If it looks normal, you’d assume that the problem was something external, like an implantation problem, or an immune issue of some sort. If the embryo has clear malformations, then you’d assume that the problem is probably genetic or developmental. Now, I’m not sure you’d know exactly what to do with this information, because it doesn’t really tell you much about how to treat it, but I would DEFINITELY want to know at least this much information if I could. It would make an enormous difference in my mind to have some clue about even what type of problem we have. For example, it would suddenly open the possibility of donor embryos or surrogacy. Not that I’m saying I would necessarily jump to doing either of those, but they’ve always been off the table in my mind because we have no idea if my problem is me or the embryos, so how do you know which one to even consider?? This would open doors to start considering if they should even be on the table at all.

Another reason to do this type of procedure is that you can be sure to get cells from the actual embryo for karyotyping, without having to worry about maternal contamination (ie, when you accidentally get the mother’s cells instead and the test comes back normal female, but it isn’t representative of the embryo). In my case, both of my embryos that have been tested came back normal male, so whatever our problems were, they weren’t chromosomal. What they found in this article though is that only something like 40% of the time when they observed a malformation in the embryo that was likely caused by a genetic problem it was picked up by karyotyping! This shouldn’t be shocking because there are just so many things that could go wrong genetically, and aneuploidy (the wrong number of chromosomes) is just one. What was shocking to me is that no one ever talks about this! When my embryo’s karyotypes came back normal, my doctor was surprised, but then basically wrote off the possibility that we have a genetic problem. I’ve even asked before, couldn’t it be something genetic besides a chromosomal problem? His answer is always, well yes, that’s possible, but basically shrugging it off as unlikely. Well, if this data is correct, karyotyping only ever had a 40% chance of finding a genetic problem if there was one!

This has all been swirling around in my mind the past few days, and honestly there’s not much I can do with the information yet. I’ll either be pregnant this month or not. I’ll either have another miscarriage or I won’t. So, what we’ve decided is that if I am pregnant this month, then awesome, we’ll take that for what it is and try to be optimistic about it. We will hope that either the things that have changed since my last miscarriage (less stress, acupuncture, thyroid medication, higher dose of progesterone) will make a difference, or that for some unknown reason that has nothing to do with those things,  it will go differently this time. If not, and I have another miscarriage, we will start to ask questions (and possibly be really pushy) about considering this procedure. If it gives us any sort of half answer that will be amazing.

And, if I’m not pregnant, we’ll call the doctor and see about figuring out why. I’m not sure if they will take me seriously since the standard is 6 months (or maybe I’ll just bend the truth and say it’s been 6 months), and I’ve been pregnant naturally so many times already, but I simply do not have the patience for another month of the same. Either way, things will be moving forward in one direction or another next month. So yeah, now I just have to manage to make it through the next few days….

***Update: In case anyone would like to read the article about embryoscopy, here it is. Also, there are other articles out there I’ve found today searching for ’embryoscopy’ and ‘miscarriage’ on google scholar ***

 

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The inlaws are coming, the inlaws are coming…..

There’s nothing like a visit from the inlaws to punctuate the tww. I ovulated on Sunday, and my mother and father in law will be arriving Friday night, so just in time for my monthly symptom spotting extravaganza. My plan is to have a sip or two of wine as soon as they get here, just to make sure they don’t start wondering if I’m pregnant. I’m on top of that already, I don’t need any help from them.

My relationship with my mother in law is complicated to say the least (father in law is super sweet, no complaints there really). If you saw us together, you’d think everything was peachy. We interact just fine in person. But under the surface is a lot of resentment on my side, and god knows what on her side.

Our relationship started out rocky from the beginning, all because of religion. G and I are both atheists, but when we first met, his mother didn’t know this about either of us. She assumed G still believed in the Catholicism he was raised in, and since I was raised Jewish, she assumed I was practicing that. When she eventually found out, she assumed that I had ‘turned’ G atheist. As if he didn’t have a mind of his own. So yeah, that was fun. We know this still really bothers her, but instead of handling it directly, both she and G will talk around it, or through his dad. Or she’ll tell the whole extended family what she wants to say to us, figuring one day it’ll get back to us. Queen of passive-aggressiveness that one.

MIL has acknowledged that I’m not all bad though. She knows I have been an extremely good influence in G’s life. When I met him, he had just gone through a bad break up, and was, let’s just say, sowing his wild oats. This was our first year of college, and he was doing drugs and drinking like crazy every weekend, and he was close to failing out of school. He was not headed in a good direction. I can’t say I’m responsible for his turning things around, he deserves all the credit himself, but I think our relationship just gave him something to hold on to, and some motivation. The last time I saw MIL, she actually told me how happy she had been at the time that G met me.

Despite MIL’s issues with me, my issues with her were pretty minimal up until I fell into the infertility hole. Despite her extreme passive-aggressiveness, and a tendency to be the most judgmental person the planet, I didn’t harbor any real negative feelings towards her. But for the last few years things have been getting worse and worse.

To describe the support we’ve gotten from her as luke-warm would be generous. She has barely said two words to us about it, despite knowing the complete and full details right from the very beginning. She might have said she was sorry after the first miscarriage, but with about as much feeling as a robot. Since then, the best she’s done is to tell us it’ll happen when it’s time. How useful, thanks! Maybe you could forward me the memo about when that time might be so I can stop wasting my energy in the meantime. The last D and C I had, she forgot I was having surgery at all, and called G while I was in surgery to tell him stories about his nephew. She never even asked what happened with that pregnancy. Basically the message we’ve gotten from her is let me know when it’s finally good news, until then, don’t bother me with it.

My resentment for her total lack of concern has been building and building over the last 3 years, but it was brought to a head this past summer. We went to visit his family for the 4th of July, right in the midst of my 2nd chemical pregnancy in as many months. I had a BFP, but I’d been having spotting on and off, and the line wasn’t getting darker day to day. I never had a chance to go in for a blood test because we left for the holiday. During the trip, I was basically in limbo, assuming my period would start any time, but still in the back of my mind wondering if it could just maybe be a real pregnancy. Eventually my period did start, a few days after we’d gotten back home.

The day we got in the car for the road trip, I got a text from his sister saying “Saturday morning we’re going to go visit M and the baby in the hospital”, referring to their cousin, who had given birth two days earlier (oh joy). No asking if we wanted to go, no outs available. How is that even remotely fair to ask of us without so much as a thought? Wonder if I have some resentment towards SIL as well?? So the weekend was starting out awesome right from the start.

Saturday morning arrived and we all piled in to the car to head to the hospital. I was in a crappy mood, but I really thought I was in control. Just another shitty day, same old same old. If I’d known how bad it was going to be, I would have made a bigger effort to get out of it. Well, the proverbial shit hit the fan as soon as we got to the hospital. I started getting a little teary-eyed as we walked in, but no biggie, still in control. We made the elevator ride up, and I was getting more jittery by the minute. Then, we stepped out of the elevator into the maternity ward and were in line to get ‘IDs’ to be allowed in to the recovery rooms. The nurse made some offhand comment about not wanting any of the babies to walk off. I have no clue what it was about this statement, or maybe it had nothing to do with that statement and it had just reached a boiling point, but at this point I proceeded to lose. my. shit.

It came over me so fast I barely had time to notice what was happening, and I immediately turned my head and shoved my face into G’s chest to cover the first sounds of the oncoming barrage of tears. He managed to call out, ‘we’re going back down to get coffee’, before I threw myself back into the (luckily still open) elevator. I didn’t turn around, but I could tell we’d gotten their attention. And by ‘their’ I mean, G’s parents, sister and her husband, multiple cousins, and some random bystanders. Even though I made it into the elevator before totally melting down, the elevator door was not moving at my speed. It stayed open for a full and agonizing 3 seconds after I starting sobbing at full volume. And I don’t mean crying, I mean gasping for breath, barely holding myself in a standing positing, sobbing. I have never lost it like this before. Honest, I don’t think I cried this hard after any of the miscarriages, at least not all at once (it was more of a gradual sadness than being overcome like that). I have no idea why it had to be that moment, but it all came out.

We made it downstairs to the lobby, and G got some coffee in me and sat me in a big comfy chair. I drank the coffee and managed to get the crying under control. But I was so completely embarrassed. We couldn’t just go back to the car and wait (no keys, plus we figured they might wait for us up there since we implied we were coming back), but my face was as blotchy and red as a face can get. Would I lose it again if we went back upstairs? How could I walk in to that room to their staring faces, looking like a blubbering fool? I should mention here that not everyone there knew about our situation (including the new mom). What the hell would they possibly think was wrong with me?

Knowing there was no getting out of it, we did eventually go upstairs, and I didn’t lose it again. We walked in to the room with all his family members standing around, preparing for someone to ask if I was okay, or at least give me some sort of reassuring look. Honestly, what I wanted was for someone to say ‘I’m so sorry we made you come here, that was really insensitive of us’. Ha, as if. No one said a damn thing. They barely glanced up when we walked in. When I sat down in a chair as far from the baby as possible, MIL looked over at me with this shit-eating grin and said, “Isn’t she just the cutest!! Look at those little toes!”.

As the day wore on, we kept thinking that SURELY someone would say something eventually. Maybe they just didn’t want to say something in front of the whole family, maybe they wanted to wait for a more appropriate moment to give us some sort of support. Ha. Not a single person ever showed even the smallest sign of concern. We thought, is it possible they didn’t actually notice? No, there was no not noticing, and G remembers seeing them watch us get in to the elevator.

I have no words for how angry and hurt it makes me that no one could be bothered to give me so much as a pat on the shoulder after so public a display. It’s as if someone fell down the stairs in front of you and you didn’t even bother to go check to make sure they were okay. I mean, who ignores someone in that much pain right in their face?? They can’t pretend that I’m fine and none of this is bothering me that much, they’ve seen it. I am just so freaking angry and resentful that they carry on with their lives as if nothing has happened, and my pain doesn’t matter in the least. I’m not the only one bothered by this either, G is really hurt by it as well. But he was raised by the reigning queen of passive-aggressive land, so how do you think he’s handling it?

What gets me the most is MIL should know better. She had two miscarriages before she had SIL. I mean, she’s been through this for godssakes, how can she act like its nothing?? The only explanation I can come up with is that she feels like she got through it, so I should be able to too. Maybe she just thinks I’m being a giant baby and should get the hell over it like she did. I don’t know, but I don’t relish the thought of spending a weekend with someone who feels this way.

At last a good day

DSC_0035In the interest of not posting only when things are bad, I wanted to make sure to post today to say that I actually had a pretty great day. It wasn’t a special day, I just went to work, had coffee with a friend, went to a presentation, came home to have dinner with G, went to yoga, and now I’m relaxing on the couch. But all day I just felt at peace with the state of things and happy to be with friends and G. I know this will be temporary, in a week or so I’ll be back to my standard tww freaking out, so I need to appreciate and enjoy the peace and quiet in the meantime.

In other news, a close friend who I’ve written about a few times before might be pregnant any minute. I mentioned before that she recently found out that she has PCOS, was having 40-60 day cycles, and wasn’t ovulating. She tried clomid for the first time this month, and things are looking great. Home ovulation test was positive, and her progesterone levels are looking awesome. She seems extremely optimistic, and although there’s no reason to assume it’ll happen the very first month, the fact that the clomid is doing it’s job is great news. For the last few months (particularly since she found out she might have trouble getting pregnant), she has been a really great support. She told me that she thought she understood what I was going through before, but once she got her own diagnosis it really clicked. Granted, she’s only been going through this for a few months, but I think she definitely gets the fear and anxiety of this process now. I’ve been able to open up much more than ever before and we’ve gotten even closer.

With all of this, I have honestly been extremely happy for her good news. I had to stop and check to make sure I wasn’t kidding myself that I would truly just be happy for her if she got pregnant, but at the moment I really don’t have any negative feelings about it. I told her that I don’t want her to think that she can’t talk to me about it just as much if she gets pregnant and I don’t.

When I found out that we would be ovulating only a week apart, for one little moment I allowed myself to think about how amazing it would be if we were both pregnant (for real) together. I would have someone I could be completely open with about the anxiety of being pregnant (which it seems like regular pregnant women don’t get). I would have none of the frustration I expect I’ll have towards other pregnant women who can just blissfully enjoy pregnancy without that anxiety. It would be just too good to be true. Which is why it most definitely won’t happen. Even if we both get pregnant this month, she will most likely stay pregnant and I won’t. Which means I’m just setting myself up for an even worse fall. As much as I honestly feel happy for her now, I doubt that will be true when I’m in the middle of a 7th miscarriage and she’s happily pregnant. I don’t want to let this change how I feel about her getting pregnant at this point though, so I will just have to deal with it when and if it happens.

This blog post is brought to you by the number 6

It is officially ovulation day for me. I had a clear positive yesterday, preceded by a few lighter tests and a nice lighter test today. It’s about cd 12, so slightly early, but after my day 9 ovulation last month I’ll take it. Since the timing was more predictable this time, we got in two perfectly good ‘attempts’, if ya know what I mean. Would have been three if I’d ovulated on day 13 or 14, but nothing to complain about. So, overall, this cycle is about as good as I could expect a cycle to be. Everything appears to be in place this month.

As of yesterday I was feeling very optimistic about this. Usually, positive opk day is the high point of my month, because anything is still possible. But, already today I’ve dropped in to my usually negativity. When a BFP is just theoretical, I can be optimistic and beleive it might happen. In fact, I do beleive that in some theoretical world it’s possible for me to have a successful pregnancy, and as long as it remains theoretical I’m happy. But as soon as the moment passes from theoretical to an actual egg and an actual sperm that have to do all the right things with each other, and then my body has to not do whatever it did the last 6 times to spit them back out, it all becomes very real.

Basically, I beleive that hypothetically I could get pregnant and stay pregnant, but any actual attempt to do so will always fail. It’s kind of like taking an exam- you might beleive that you’re capable of acing it, but when you sit down to actually take it you lose all your confidence. This has been a really tough issue for me because it’s really tied up in whether or not we keep trying or not. How can I ever give up when I beleive (and the statistics agree) that its entirely possible that I could have a successful pregnancy at some point? But when I sit down to start taking the exam I just know I’m going to fail again.

With all of this in mind, and knowing how miserably I succumbed to anger and frustration last month, I’ve been trying to get my head in the right place for the coming tww. First of all, I’ve adjusted my thinking a little about the chemical pregnancies I had in May and June. A little back story quickly: May was the first month we started trying again since my 4th miscarriage in December. I got a faint positive on day 12 or so, but then the symptoms started to go away right around day 14. I had a feeling, so I took another test and it was even lighter than the first time, and I knew. The next month I was having lots of cramps and started spotting around day 13, and figured my period was starting. I tested anyways though just to be sure before I stopped taking progesterone. I was surprised that it was a full positive, not even faint. I was pretty sure it was going to be another chemical pregnancy given the spotting, but I was out of town and couldn’t go in for a blood test. I kept spotting, but never got a real period, then tested again a week later. It was still positive, but getting lighter. I stopped taking the progesterone and got my period a few days later.

I’ve said a few times before that I wasn’t counting the chemical pregnancies as miscarriages, and I was doing this mostly for emotional reasons. First of all, they just didn’t hit me as hard as the miscarriages. In fact, the last BFN was harder than the June chemical pregnancy- probably because with the spotting I knew it wasn’t going to happen before I even knew I was pregnant. They just passed through before I got attached at all. On the other hand, there’s no medical reason to make a distinction between a chemical pregnancy and a miscarriage; it’s just a matter of how early it happens. From everything I’ve read, medically they probably do count in understanding my situation and risk of future miscarriages.

Which brings me to what I think is the biggest reason I didn’t want to count them. The number 6.  I am completely terrified by it. It feels so unfair to have jumped from 4 to 6 so fast, with so little time to get used to the idea. 4 miscarriages is also a large number, but I had 2 and a half years to adjust to it. This feels thrust upon me out of no where, and just so unfair. A change this drastic feels like the situation is completely hopeless. I mean, if you failed a test 6 times, you’d just cut your losses, right?? The odds are just racking up against me faster than I can keep up with.

With this on my mind, I’ve spent the last week or so fixated on figuring out how to be realistic about the chances of success with a number like 6. I’ve been googling all over the place, desperately looking for examples of people who were successful after 6 losses. There just isn’t a lot of data, presumably because by the time they hit 6 losses, most people have either gotten too old or given up. They are damn hard to find, but there are a few cases out there of successful pregnancies after 6 or more losses.

It’s going to take some time, but I’m trying to come to terms with the number 6. It’s a little like my identity has suddenly changed, and I need to figure out who I am again. The biggest reason to do this right now is that I’m hoping it will help me handle the tww. If I count from June as the last time I was pregnant, we’ve only been trying 3 months, rather than 5. This is really a silly thing to be taking so seriously, but it actually does help. I’m terrified that I’ve hit some tipping point (um, turning 30 maybe??) and on top of everything else, it will be harder and harder to get pregnant each time. So, there’s a definite trade-off here. I’m hoping that by thinking that this is only month 3 of trying, I won’t be as upset if and when it’s another negative.

Resurfacing

It’s been a few days since my period ended, and I guess I’ve bounced back from the low point of the TWW. Although bouncing back is probably not the right metaphor. It’s more like I was pulled under, and now I’ve resurfaced. I really hate this pattern, and I so wish it didn’t have to be this way. Which has really gotten me thinking a lot over the last few days. This will probably be a pretty serious post, I have some stuff I need to get out of my head and onto ‘paper’. Sorry to drag any patient readers into my head, but I’m hoping if I write it all down I can possibly move past it a little. I guess we’ll see.

So, the hardest part of the past (almost) three years of infertility have been my lack of patience with how long this whole thing is taking. Every month that goes by, and really, every day, feels like a million years of waiting. I’ve described this as impatience, but the more I think about it, it has to be more than that. Impatience is when you can’t wait to go on vacation, or can’t hold off on eating desert until after dinner. This is definitely more than that. When I think about another month of not being pregnant, I feel lost and helpless. If I think of having to wait another year, I’m downright disgusted at the idea. So, I asked myself if I knew I would have a baby for certain at the end of five years, could I wait that long? The obvious answer is yes, because that’s the whole point here, right? But the idea of having to wait that long, even knowing it would work out in the end, is extremely uncomfortable to me.

The more I thought about this, the more I started to realize how ridiculous and irrational it is. There is every reason to think that I will have to wait a lot longer before I manage to have a baby. Maybe I could get pregnant this month, but even if I did, it would probably end in another miscarriage. Most likely I will have at least one more miscarriage, and so even if I do go on to have a normal pregnancy at some point, it will be a long time before I have the baby. If we decide to move on and adopt, it will definitely be at least a year and probably much longer. So, this whole process would just be so much more bearable if I could accept the fact that its going to be a long time and expect it. In other words, I would be much better off if I could start playing the long game. Thinking about things from the perspective that I will have a baby at some point, and a few months here or there shouldn’t matter as long as I get there in the end.

But honestly, even knowing how much easier things would be that way, and knowing it’s the rational approach, I hate the idea of it. It feels like giving in. It feels like, if I say I’m okay with it taking 5 years, it definitely will take that long. It feels extremely uncomfortable to me to think about days and weeks and months to come with no progress. This tells me that I have some weird stuff going on inside my head, and I need to try to sort it all out or I’m just asking for trouble each month.

So, as all of this has been rolling around in my head for the past few days, I’ve been trying to figure out why I have this irrational fear of waiting for a baby. I think somehow I’ve gotten to the point where I beleive that my value as a person is based on my ability to reproduce. This is surprising to me because it goes against everything I was raised to beleive, and it goes against everything I’ve done with my life up to this point. I was not raised to beleive that being a mom was the most important thing I could do. I was pushed to have an important career and do something valuable or impressive in the world. When I met my husband, I made it clear that I would always work and my career would have to be as important as his. In fact, up until a few years ago, I was probably too far to the opposite extreme, in the sense that I was determining my entire value as a person on my ability to be successful as an academic. This is something I had to work on pretty hard with a therapist, because I felt that I was failing at my job, and thus had no value. There’s much more to that story, but ultimately I think I moved past it to a large degree, and I’ve tried to get to a place where I can just be happy with doing a good job at a job that I enjoy, and not worry about being competitive or impressing people.

But, I think in the process I might have gone too far to the other side. After grad school I took a job that isn’t competitive and doesn’t make me a huge ball of anxiety. I’m a happier person and I’m glad I did it, but I’m struggling with feeling like what I’m doing isn’t impressive, and that people will think I’ve failed. Basically, my anxiety now is that people will think I’m a failure, and so I’ve tried to find something else to give me value instead.  And that something became having a baby. If I’m not going to be a high powered driven academic, then it would at least be justified if I had a bunch of kids and was an amazing mom. It would give me a purpose and a value that I apparently feel I’m missing. I think I was holding out, thinking that it was okay that I didn’t have an important, impressive job because soon I’d have kids and that would make it all worth it. But instead, I just ended up with neither.

Rationally, I think this is all ridiculous. No one, including me, should need to have an impressive career or kids to be valuable. I’m a good friend, I have a great husband and family, I do useful and fun things with my life. But for some reason none of that feels like enough.  I wish I knew how to change my attitude about this. I’m hoping that putting it all out there and shining the light on it will make me see how dumb I’m being. Honestly I think it’s so important that I get past this because having kids isn’t going to suddenly fix all my problems either. I need to be happy with myself and my life, or what kind of role model would I be for my kids? Hopefully I can start to rethink things a little, and if I’m lucky, maybe it will make it just a little easier to handle the (probably inevitable) wait that’s still to come.

Three days, three BFNs (angry, negative blogger warning)

dark clouds3 days, three tests, three pink lines. That just about says it all. I just want to scream, or cry, or throw something. I am almost definitely not pregnant. I’ll keep testing for a few more days, just in case, but there should be something there by 11dpo, even just a barely there faint line. I’m just not sure how much more of this I can take. The thought of more months of this, testing and waiting, and testing and waiting, it makes me not want to get out of bed in the morning.

I feel like it’s just never ever ever going to happen. I feel like I’m in a deep hole without a ladder. There is no way out of this hole. I will wait eternities to get pregnant, just to miscarry. We’ve all heard of the women who had 10 miscarriages before having a success. If it took me six more miscarriages, and it took me five months to get pregnant each time, plus the time for pregnancies and recovery, it would be 5 more years before I had a baby!! The thought of adoption is not only unappealing to me at this point, but feels like it would never work. My issues and emotions around adoption are a topic for another whole post, but to keep it short I feel like I couldn’t emotionally make it through the process, because I’d have in the back of my mind that we didn’t have to be doing it. We could always keep trying. Just trying isn’t costing us much money (at least until I need another surgery), so how can we pay $40,000 and rip out our hearts emotionally when we don’t have to? I have absolutely no means to change my life, except to give up having a family. And that’s definitely not an option.

I know I’m being overly negative. First of all, there’s still a chance it’s too early. If I was off by even a day or two about when I ovulated (which is possible), it might still be just a little too early. Plus there’s the fact that I’ve been peeing so much during the night (warning- tmi coming) that my pee is practically clear. Maybe it’s just way too diluted to get a valid result this early. Before testing this morning when we were still in a half-way decent mood G and I joked that we should boil my pee down before testing.

I also know that it hasn’t actually been an eternity. It’s been four months, and two of those I had chemical pregnancies. In my mind those should count towards time trying, since I don’t really see them as real miscarriages. I know not everyone feels the same way about this, but to me, they were just wasted months. I was seriously annoyed, but there was nowhere near the emotional devastation and recovery of a miscarriage. I just got my period and ovulated again the next month. That’s just my own feelings though, not to take away others’ right to be very upset about a chemical pregnancy. My point is though, if we counted those as miscarriages, it would only have been two months of trying. I’m not sure that makes me feel better, but at least it might imply that I’m not losing my ability to get pregnant.

I just don’t even know what to do with myself at this point. Every day of waiting is another small torture. Haven’t I paid my dues yet?? Will it EVER be my turn???

BFN. Or is it??

Well I made it to Friday. And as expected the test was negative. G and I tested first thing this morning, and for the first time in quite a while, he was really upset with the negative. Not that he hasn’t been upset in the past, but he has a lot more patience than I do, so a month here or there is not as hard for him as it is for me. This time he admitted that he’s also getting really frustrated. It feels like an eternity since the last time I was pregnant. It has been an eternity really, 9 months if you don’t count the chemical pregnancies. Granted part of that time we were holding off trying, but I was only okay with that because I assumed it wouldn’t take a million years to get pregnant again.

That was a few hours ago. Since then, I’ve gone back into the bathroom to look at the stupid test again like 10 times. Does anyone else do this? I know your not supposed to read the test after 5 minutes because apparently you can get an evaporation line (what the hell is that anyway??). Well if they want me to not look at it again after 5 minutes then it would need to self-destruct, because I don’t have that kind of self-control. And the more I stare at the stupid thing, the more I’ve been able to convince myself that just maybe there is the faintest of faint lines there. G isn’t home anymore to try to convince me I’m crazy (which, let’s face it, I am), so my imagination is running away with me. There’s nothing I can do except wait until tomorrow. So here I am, back where I was yesterday. The waiting game. UGGGG, I’m just so sick of all of this!!

T minus ONE day and counting

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Some days I just love the internet and its ability to enable my neuroses. I’ve been sitting here driving myself insane for the last couple of hours trying to focus on work, but instead thinking about whether I’m pregnant. No shock there, I knew perfectly well that by now (8 dpo) I’d be going completely crazy. But I promised myself I was allowed to test tomorrow, and so that’s all I can think about. Just get to tomorrow, hold out one more day.

So given that, instead of taking a pregnancy test, I’ve been reading pregnancy test instructions (as if I don’t know how to POAS by now!!!) and googling test sensitivity. You gotta love google, bringing together all the impatient people like myself in the world. I stumbled onto this website, where you can clickity-click your day past ovulation and it will give you the % of women (who did turn out to be pregnant) who got a positive result with a given kind of test on that day. Basically, women who’ve used those tests go online and record whether they got a positive or not on a given day. Crowd-sourcing ttc!

It turns out that 60% or so of women will get a positive result with the tests I have (cheapos from amazon) on day 9. So much information, but so little comfort! That’s actually higher than I expected, which means that if/when I get a negative tomorrow I’ll be that much more disappointed.

I’m not sure which is worse, wondering and hoping and going crazy today, or being depressed tomorrow?

T minus 4 days and counting

I don’t need to tell any of you guys that the TWW sucks. I’m at about 5 dpo, which is the point when I usually start to turn in to a giant ball of crazy. I’ve been doing okay so far, but it’s gotta be just a matter of time. The thing is, this month I don’t have any of my trusty symptoms to rely on. I’ve been feeling nauseous on and off for like, six weeks straight now (god only knows why…), so any nausea going forward really can’t be trusted. I’ve also been having random cramps for the last couple weeks, so that can’t be trusted either. All the other symptoms are unreliable to begin with (when am I not a little tired?). So this could either work out in my favor or work against me. Ideally, I’d be able to calmly remind myself that these ‘symptoms’ don’t mean anything. But is that likely? Ha!

So, I’ve given myself four days to suffer until I start testing. I wouldn’t usually start testing on day 9, but I want to make sure I have a thyroid test as early as humanly possible if I get a positive. Even if its only a tiny chance that it’ll be positive on day 9, it’s worth the tiny chance to get in for a blood test that day. Otherwise, if I get a positive over the weekend I have to wait until Monday for bloodwork. So, I will try to manage my expectations and not let it ruin my whole day if its negative on Friday. Is that likely?? Haha!

And even if I do get a positive, I’ll have to try not to take it too seriously yet since I had two chemical pregnancies in a row a few months ago. I wrote that off as bad luck (although extremely frustrating bad luck), but if it happens again I’ll start to get really really freaked out. Or, if I don’t get pregnant this month, we’ll be going on 5 months of trying with no results, which will really get the ball of crazy going. Have I gone backwards? Have I lost the ability to even get pregnant now? I don’t have much hope that it will work out even if I do get pregnant again, but I need to at least get there to find out! Ugg, I don’t even want to start going there.

On a side note, I had a mini-breakdown checking facebook again today. I wrote once before about a friend (really a wife of a friend) who has been torturing me with her pregnancy blog posts. Today she made a passing comment that she is starting to do baby laundry. She’s about 7 months pregnant now, and preparing for her baby by washing all the gifts they’ve gotten. There was just a simple photo of a hamper of baby laundry attached to the post. So simple, and so real. It’s not just a bump anymore, in a few short months she’ll be holding her very real baby. And I’ll be holding…nothing.

TWW already??

So, today is day 9 of my cycle, which is usually about when I start ovulation testing. I almost always get 4-5 days of negatives, but it gives me something to do in the middle of my cycle, and I like to be absolutely positive I won’t miss it. Which is why I was shocked to see two super dark lines pop off the strip today. Not even half-way dark, like maybe it’ll be for real positive tomorrow, a definite positive.

The one good thing I’ve got going for me in the lady-parts area is that my cycles are super regular. With the exception of months after a miscarriage, my cycle is always 28 or 29 days, with ovulation smack dab in the middle. I don’t think I’ve ever ovulated so early in a cycle before. In fact, if I’d tested even a day later we probably would have missed it and wasted yet another whole month.

So, while its nice to skip ahead a little and get that much closer to testing time, this month is really not getting off to a good start. We only had one shot to try (we did have sex last Thursday, but that was probably too long ago at this point), and the cycle is already a weird short one. Can’t be a good sign.

Oh well, here goes another TWW…