Category: secondary infertility


CD 4-5, I’m counting it as 5 since there was a whole hour of Wednesday included.

I was planning on posting a while ago. I was going to say that I’d given up on my journey and I was simply trying to make the best of what I have and stop focusing on what I wished I had. I turned my nursery into a computer room and took out everything baby related (minus the change table because it’s busy holding up the fish tank right now). I decided to try and work on my body, get it to where I want it (yes, small butts can still sag) and start buying clothes that are not based on how well they expand or cover a belly.

I’ve actually been pretty happy since I decided to give up on this. We all know that this doesn’t mean that I don’t want more, just that I was taking it out of my hands and putting it into the hand of Mo‘s big giant Spaghetti Monster in the sky. Hubby and I were just doing our thing and focusing on us, our sex life (which we’ve been spicing up, with no thanks to “sex for dummies” I’ll have you know.)

Then I got me a sponsor child. It’s all my chocobuddy’s fault since the little girl stood out for having the same name as her and it was the little girls birthday that day. I couldn’t resist. But that also brought up adoption in my mind again and I told Hubby that we needed to make a decision. Either we hop back on the wagon trying to acquire a child in some fashion or other, or we decide that we’re closing the family off at the three of us. I don’t want Monster to hit 10 and then have to start all over again. He’s going to be 5 in December and already I’d rather adopt a 3-year-old to close the age gap and give Monster a sibling he can actually play with.

As receptive as Hubby originally was to the idea of adoption, he’s really not keen on it right now. He says that he really wants another that is biologically his and I think he figures that going for adoption is us saying that we’re not going to try anymore. It’s not the case, but that’s how he feels. He started pushing for IVF but I’m not keen on that idea since it doesn’t have a great success rate and we don’t know that that is really appropriate for us. We’ve had 3 pregnancies and lost two. It’s been 2.5 years since my last pregnancy. I don’t know if it’s the getting pregnant or staying pregnant that is the biggist issue, really.

So we settled on the middle ground. Clomid. We’re going to give it another round of active trying with all the accessories…or, most of the accessories. Fuck taking my temp every morning. We’re going to have lots of frequent sex and I’m going to monitor my CF and the rest should take care of itself. I’m not taking on the stress of über tracking right now. My CF keeps me very up to date as to when I should be ready (smelling oddly sweet and needing to carry extra panties for when I soak through the first). What? TMI? Haven’t you been to this page before? 😉

So that’s where I’ve ended up. Today I took my first dose of clomid. Am I going to turn into a crazy hormonal woman? I wasn’t when I was pregnant, so I can’t see it happening, but who knows.

I’m scared a bit, but mostly I’m not taking in the reality of it. Maybe I’ll get pregnant. Maybe there will be more than one. Maybe I’ll lose multiple babies. Maybe it will hit me when I’m due for The Red Lady. I’m sure now that if I lose another, I’m not planning on walking into this situation again. Maybe absolutely nothing will happen. That would be…anticlimactic.  Anticlimactic really isn’t all that bad considering other possible alternatives.

It’s a bit of a turn around from giving up.

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This may sound weird, I don’t really care. But I really miss breastfeeding.

This morning, sitting in my MOPS session (on teaching kids to deal with loss/ grief), listening to the video and knowing that I still haven’t really dealt properly with my own greif…across the table from me one of the other mothers is breastfeeding. Now, I’m a real advocate for breastfeeding, and I don’t feel that women should run off and hide in a dark closet to do so. When I was nursing my son, I’d nurse him anywhere and everywhere. I was courteous enough to put a blanket over if I was in public or around people that were less comfortable, but I wasn’t about to get up and leave when I had to nurse. So, when I saw this girl nursing her son today, during a session that  was bringing up all the loss of my babies (not to mention the others I’ve lost in my life) I was double choked with emotion.

I loved breastfeeding. I could spend my life as a wet-nurse. I nursed my son for 2 years (letting him self wean) and I thought I’d have a short break before having another child right back there. The closeness and bonding of breastfeeding was a very big deal to me, not to mention that my milk was like liquid butter and would instantly fatten up the scrawniest child. I’d finally found something my body was good at and  I could have fed an army with what came out of me.

And it’s just one more way that it feels the world is rubbing in my face that I’ve lost my babies.

This probably made no sense outside my head. But I had to get it off my chest (no pun intended).

I’ve come to a conclusion that I can’t say I favor, but I’m shocked that the obviousness of the possibility hadn’t struck me yet.

I don’t think I’m sick at all.

I don’t think I’ve been fighting anything for the last month that had left me nearly bed ridden, with no appetite, and struggling to care about everything/ anything around me.

And yet I’m sure that if I had looked at myself objectively I’d have noticed, just like I’m sure that many of you have likely noticed. I think I’m depressed, and not in the “oh, that’s ass, but I’ll feel better tomorrow” kind of way. I’ve always been a positive person and I think any chipper that has been coming out of me at times is mearly formed from habit. I haven’t felt happy in a long time (other than my odd rubber room style excitedness for a few days last month). I really have nothing to complain about logically, but logic isn’t living here right now. Without distraction I swing from gut stabbing sad to numb and a lot of anger thrown in for variety. Who me? angry? What a shock, no one noticed.

But I’ve realized that I seem to be hating life in a pretty hard way lately. I want another child so badly and the loss of my 2nd and 3rd are still so strong. The idea of not giving my son a sibling is killing me since I think that growing up and only child is horrible and has some very negative consequences and I want to prevent that any way possible, plus I know that my family isn’t complete as it is. So I keep trying to get pregnant. And that in itself seems to be bringing me lower every day.

I don’t want to have sex, I don’t want to ask my husband to have sex with me all the time. I make it look like I want to have sex to try and make my husband feel like a man, and I want to want to have sex. I wish I enjoyed sex, but the only thing I get out of it is the comfort of physical proximity to my husband, someone actually touching me other than my son. I’ve always been a very physically affectionate person and I feel starved for physical comfort nowadays. I don’t have my friends around to snuggle up to, hold my hands, hug me (and I’m known to being almost overwhelming in the amount of hugs I like), kiss my cheeks. And my husband and I are not very physical anymore. He doesn’t snuggle me, he gives me a little kiss when he comes home or leaves, or if I ask him for one while he’s at the computer. He doesn’t hug me anymore unless I ask him for one.

I’m almost willing to completely give up on the idea of having another child simply because I’m so tired of begging him to sleep with me and being turned down. Every time I’m leading up to ovulation he’s not feeling well and I hate saying “I’m going to ovulate soon” and that’s a really last-ditch effort if I do…and I always end up having to say it. And still often nothing happens.

I know my husband loves me, but I couldn’t tell you if he was in love with me, I just don’t know that. I know he likes me as a person, he obviously thinks I’m a good person and a good mother. But I don’t interest him. And sadly I’m pretty sure that it’s not only mentally (we’ve never had anything in common and I’m not exactly in league with the intelligent conversationalist of the world. I’m a simple girl with simple wants and that’s how I’ve always been. I don’t see it a negative thing for me) but also physically. I know he used to love having sex with me. There was a time when that was the case. But every time I have to essentially beg for sex that I don’t want to have because the last thing I feel is wanted, it just makes me more and more bitter. I’ve had the discussion with him about it, and he tried to put in more effort for a short time, but now we’re back to nothing.

I can’t sleep because I can’t relax. I finally realized that. I retreat further and further into my books in desperate need of distraction from my thoughts that are an unclear mess of anger and tears. Last night I managed 1.5 hrs in which I woke up 3 times. During this afternoon I brought my son to be with me and just held on to him while he slept. I dozed in and out of sleep for 2 hours and then my son left and there was just this cold empty spot where he’d been. It’s seemed like such a bad, cheesy picture of how I felt. Cold and empty. And it’s everything in my power right now to care enough to keep things from being really crappy for Monster just because of how I’m feeling, and I realized I’m not doing a great job of it.

I feel like trying to have a child has killed the parts of me that I liked.

CD 25

I really don’t have a lot of hope here, my temps have stayed a steady low…but what if just maybe I was pregnant anyways? Wouldn’t that be just swell? I’m so tired of the waiting. I think that maybe if I could get some goods between the bads, it would just make this feel a bit more doable.

Today taking Monster to preschool, one of the other moms said to me “you should have more” to keep me company while Monster is at school or just to keep me occupied? I know she didn’t mean anything by it, and I probably do stare at her baby more than a normal stranger does, but it just had that hit to it. “Working on it” was all I could manage. The lobby of the church preschool is not exactly the place for a “well I’m trying but the survival rate for my children is at a known 33% so maybe less so far” comment. She’s kinda the only mom there that talks to me too, so I don’t want to come off as a bitch. I guess I’m not too good at making friends, lol. Maybe they can’t take my realness never mind, that a joke with my hubby.

The acupuncturist said that it felt like my period was coming or that I’m just doing really well because my pulse was really strong for a change. Lets hope it’s just from all that exercising I’ve been doing. Although I blew my “exercised every day this year” routine because I was at mummy’s this weekend and was too distracted on saturday to remember. So then I got lazy yesterday too. I knew if I missed one it was all down hill from there. But I got on that stairmaster today and watched  the first half of Clash of the Titans while I did my thing. And yes, it is an awful movie…and yes, I do intend on watching the rest. It’s bad, but at least it not boring like that Robert Pattinson one where he’s a strange teenager who has a shrink move in with him, don’t remember the name, but I got half way though and turned it off. And I NEVER turn something off when I’ve already started it (other than to pause).

On a good note, the acupunturist says that we’re all good to boot the herbs. They seemed to start having a reverse effect on me so now we’re just going to make sure that none of my symptoms that the herbs were for come back with a vengeance.

Ok, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. The specialist wasn’t the crazy cow she was last time and  if I’m not mistaken, I think she actually smiled some.

Everything with hubby turned out good so far, not allergic to his own sperm or anything, counts are good, and his basic blood work is good. I had a vaguely different story. My u/s showed that post HSG I still had fluid in my Lt tube and apparently that should have drained out already. So she said it may not be the best of tubes. Although my Lt ovary is the one that I’m always rooting for because it’s the one that I know works. My son and my Darla (first miscarriage) were both from my Lt and I never found out regarding my second miscarriage d/t being too shocked at being told that there was a blighted ovum. I still intend to get that info.

The second “thing of noteworthiness” was that I have a clotting issue. I’m thinking I know, if I check my blood sugar it takes me 15 minutes to stop bleeding and I like getting other people to check for me and not tell them I’m a bleeder just because I have a slightly sick sense of humour . But she said no. She said that I have thrombophilia which is the broad term for clotting too much. You’re shitting me right? If I’m a super clotter how am I such a bleeder? And apparently looking on wikipedia, this is known for being related to recurrent miscarriages. So that’s a maybe of whats happened. I can’t find where I saw it to reference but it was related to something like 5 or 15% of miscarriages after 10 weeks. Maybe I read that wrong….I have to do more looking.

And of course Hubby took off this morning with the sheet in the car (she gave me a copy of the test but I’m not sure if I’m supposed to put in my files or give to my Dr…) so now I can’t remember what type of thrombophilia it is but it has to do with an S and C protein ?antigen?/ ?antibody? deficiency. So I guess that’s two types according to wikipedia, I don’t know yet if they often come together. Anybody know anything about this? cause I haven’t had a chance to do my research yet. But she said it’s hereditary so either my mummy has or my dad had it. My mummy’s sister had a PE (pulmonary embolism) a few years back, and there are a lot of heart attacks on that side of the family so maybe that’s it. I’d have to ask my Dad’s mom of she knows anything on that side of the family. Isn’t it nice to have your fertility specialist tell you you are at an increased risk for heart attack and stroke?! strangely that didn’t bother me so much, but it sure has my mom in a twist. Specialist said she’d have me go on baby aspirin every day “As soon as I’m pregnant?”, “No, today”, “oh”. And she’s giving me a referral to clotting specialist to see what he thinks.

yay 😦

So, after dinner last night Hubby, Monster and I went over to see some friends and had a great visit. Mummy picked up Monster at about 9:30 so we stayed there untill 1:30 playing warcraft cards. It was a great time, almost as good as D&D except that nothing will ever be as good as D&D and as soon as this same buddy puts another campaign together I shall be making regular appearances as an evil NPC. I had a great time, took out some of my frustrations by smiting every attempt our DM (dungeon master) could make. Hubby had some beers and I discovered that I like a true pilsner (no, not that Saskatchewan stuff) along with a dark lager and because I could only taste and not drink (for risk of antagonizing my alcohol allergy and having a violent not to mention potentially delusional style vomit fest) I also was reminded how much I miss beer. I’ve always been a beer girl…even though at my best before my allergy kicked in, I’d have two in an evening. But I like the way it tastes.

And I’m a MILF (as stated in an oddly polite fashion by my best friends cousin that I just met last night). Thank you Miles, you made my night.

So I guess that’s four things: Tube not great, Thrombophilia, Beer, MILF!

CD 21

So we’ve got our follow-up today and I just looked at the weather forecast. 15-25cm of snow expected by tomorrow night. Holy Crap! I’m used to the 10-15, but this is getting ridiculous. Now I’m freaking out that I’m not going to be able to get back here  and we’ll be stuck at my moms all weekend. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem but I’ve got three cats here that would sorely miss their food and water. Ya, I’ll be loading them up before I go, but still, it’s got me a bit nervous. Last snow (about a week and a half ago I think) we had to get dug out of our driveway by the nice guy with a backhoe from the construction site next door to us. He didn’t even ask, just too one look at us and drove over and started digging. I love him. And that was a 10-15cm snow…but it was super crazy wind so you couldn’t see the end of your driveway and it was a mix of 3 foot tall waves of snow and bare ground. Yay for having a state of emergency declared in your town d/t blindness. Watch out Elphaba, you’ll be getting this in a few days…just maybe not so drastic.

So I’m probably projecting some of my nervousness about my appointment towards the snow, but still. I just know they aren’t going to find anything. Every part of me is saying “why bother going?” Am I a little negative about this? And I’m still wanting to know why the hell it’s supposed to be 6 months for the chromosome labs. I think this process is making me bitter.

CD 20 DPO 0?

Have you ever taken a look at the “refered” section of your site stats, showing where people are finding your blog from? I’m sure you have, but some of them just don’t make any sense. Today I see “http://lol-snaps.com/russian-drunk-yoga-poses” and may I say I got a good laugh when I looked at the page. But how the hell does my blog end up listed as a refered link on this page? really?! What do I have to do with a bunch of apparently drunk russians with people doing yoga poses of their pass out stances? Very confusing.

So I finally talked to Hubby about our situation in the bedroom and requesting that he wear the cape of The Instigator (I’m not sure if said character is a hero or villain yet) at times and I tried to keep it as casual and brief a conversation as possible. Once past the initial shock (no hubby wants to be told they aren’t doing their duties to your liking) he agreed to make an effort to step it up a notch. YAY! So lets just say I had a pleasant wake up this morning 😉

But of course I still have no rise in my temps. And this month isn’t even one of those all over cycles. I’ve been super steady in temps here and I’m not  varying more than 0.03 degrees (celsius).  I even took another OPK yesterday because I noticed some egg-white CM!…and a negatory. I think it was just fluke CM because I’ve been post-ov style dry all week.

We finally have a follow-up with the fertility specialist tomorrow. they said they wouldn’t have the results of our chromosomal blood work, but they’ll have the other stuff. I’m struggling with this feeling that we’re going to go in there just to hear “we’ve got nothing and we’ll have to wait and see about the other labs when they come” and it will have been a waste of a drive into town. Well, I get to see my mom at least, we’re going to stay at her place tomorrow so that Hubby doesn’t have to drive back into town for beer brewing buddy time on saturday and then I get saturday to visit more with mummy and maybe even a date night with Hubby saturday evening! We don’t get many of those, but the ones we do get are really just simple dinner and a movie. I’d kinda like a date night of video games to be honest, lol.

On an up side, I’m feeling good today…not quite the insane ecstatic of yesterday, but good. I’m happy, not exhausted, and looking forward to having Hubby on days off for the next 6 days.

CD 18 DPO 0?

Ever since last night I’ve been trotting along with the song “who’s afraid of the big bad cheese” stuck in my head. For most of my life I’ve pretty much had no point in which there wasn’t a song stuck in there and last night, this was it. “Big bad cheese”? Ya, I know, it’s supposed to be wolf, but Monster is now at the point where he changes the words of everything and I’m just glad it’s not “poop” for a change.

This all started because I was too lazy to pull out a story book so I decided to spout one off from mostly memory (because I can only mostly remember it). And every time it came to singing the song, he changed the words. I thought it was cute, so we kept singing it and flapping around and then I remember my dream…

I’m completely content in a noisy house of crazy monster children. Three or four of them, singing and dancing, very much like a big party but it’s made up of me and my children. I could gather them in a little circle and tell them stories while they participate in parts. The older ones can start telling stories of their own. We could all play together and never be lonely or bored. And when Daddy gets home he’d have a doggy-pile of monsters all trying to be the first to get a hug and a kiss. Then at the end of the day Hubby  and I  would fall into bed, exhausted but fulfilled, and smile at the thought of our crazy happy kids…then maybe pretend to make some more (because I don’t think I’d need more after four…but I’d still take them). I could have my strong-headed children that all took care of and loved each other very much and were super close and knew that family came first. The movie cheaper by the dozen makes a bit angry jealous.

I want it so bad. And knowing that my Monster should have 2 siblings and that they were taken away from us just kills me even more when I think about my dreams of the future.

So today is a song for which I am incapable of being stressed during.

Meet the Robinsons

CD 31 DPO 16

I don’t know who of you have seen this movie. Maybe you’ve watched it with your niece or nephew, some kids you babysat once, by yourself because you have this secret addiction to kids Disneyesk movies (who me?) or also like myself you suffer from secondary infertility and you are trying to find more variety for your kid to watch so can turn off Frackin’ Nemo (ok, I love Nemo, but it’s getting too much).

Did I mention before that I’m a big giant cry-baby? because I’m not…..unless of course it has little to do with reality. I regularly bawl when watching tv, listening to the radio, reading a book…and of course, Disneyesk movies. They are my ultimate kryptonite. My mom took me (I can’t remember why because I was in high school here) to see Tarzan in the theater and was mildly embarrassed (warranted) because I was crying my eyes out at the beginning of the movie. Right at the beginning! They killed the baby gorilla! I think I’ve been a little traumatized by Disney since then. That poor baby gorilla. Lol, yes I know it’s just a cartoon.

My mother in law has this theory that kinda applies to more that just recently. She said something along the lines of “A broken heart takes time to heal”. With my life, I’ve honestly had a broken heart for most of it. that’s never prevented me from living that said life, but I admit that I’ve always nursed some issues (haven’t we all?). So I don’t cry normally, I’m an angry crier only. when I get really mad (and it’s hard to get me mad) the tears start a streaming. It can be deceiving, but if you know me well enough and my face and chest are  red/ purple/ mix of the two and I’m crying…best to run the other way. So all that broken heart comes out during shows, musics, whatever.

This brings us to the Robinsons. At the very beginning of the movie (so no, I’m not giving anything but the first 30 seconds away), this woman sneaks up with a bundle in her hand. She looks down at said bundle (baby) and gives it a kiss, puts him on a doorstep, rings the bell and bolts. Whats your first reaction? Is it “THAT FRACKIN’ BITCH!!!!!!!!!!” And then you proceed to lose it and can’t stop crying for the next 5 minutes so you head to the kitchen so no one can see you? Probably not. Of course what I’m really thinking is just give him to me, I want him. But of course he’s a carton and when you adopt a cartoon baby they have a tendency to put you in a rubber room.

Then again, screw it. Bring on all the rubber rooms you want. Just give me my damn babies (even if the are oh, cartoons and , ya know, gorillas).

Why can’t someone just leave a baby on my doorstep…and let me keep it.

The ass chappery

CD 27 DPO 12

So here I wait for the Red Lady. My temps are still up (as up as I get) so maybe that means that it wont come untill tomorrow…but I still think today. I took another HPT this morning…and another BFN. YAY! It makes me feel all warm and fluffy inside! I don’t know, maybe I killed what little wishful thinking I still had yesterday…or not (why else would I have peed on another ass faced stick today?). But I’m not having that same crushed feeling that I normally get, and I doubt it’s because I have that Kona coffee waiting in my freezer for me (really looking forward to that btw). I really thought I’d have had it this month. Actually having my hubby around, actually having sex when needed, who frackin’ knows. Maybe my ass will get more chapped as once my visitor actually arrives.

So I thought I’d dress pretty today. Monster starts preschool again today and the other mom’s usually see me dressed like a complete slob with no make-up and I know I’ve given the impression of someone who cares nothing about their looks…I dont like that. I thought I’d make an effort to not look like a slob and have an “I feel pretty” day. So I put on some tights (three-quarter length) then a cute leopard print shirt that is a touch loose and then a fun crazy belt that I just got (6 mini buckles at the front) and I looked in the mirror. Who did I see? Not I, but Peggy Bundy was in front of me (not helping that my hair is currently red). It was funny enough that I kept it. At least for now.

p.s. I don’t have big hair.