Tag Archive: TTC


Peer presure pee

I feel like doing the things I keep telling other people not to do. I feel like peeing on sticks.

I’m not just doing it for the sake of it though, I’ve got some reasons. Well, one reason. My boobs. I wouldn’t say they are bigger but they definitely feel fuller. I asked Hubby this morning if my boobs felt different and he (after the necessary grope) gave me a weird look “Ya, they feel harder. Why?”. “Well, I think I could be pregnant”.

By this time I’ve already peed on one of my ovulation strips (cause it’s all I have around anymore) for no result and I tell him I want to go get an early detection test. I feel silly. I always tell people just to wait a few more days and use the cheap regulars, but I really want a drink.

*Hubby just arrived back from the store with the test*

Tonight is my 30th birthday party. I REALLY wanted to be able to go out and have a few drinks with my friends (or in my new case two weak ones… maybe three weak ones throughout the afternoon eve). Even just one! I haven’t been able to sit and have a drink with my friends in so many years and now that my body it finally able to tolerate a small amount of alcohol… it’s the wrong time of month and I think I might be pregnant.

“Wasn’t that the goal?”, some might say. Of course it is, totally not the point right now though.

Let’s go check the damn test.

Negative. Maybe I didn’t want that drink as much as I thought.

I’m due in 3 days and this is supposed to tell 5 days before. I guess the boobs are just a side effect of the clomid. That’s just plain deceitful. My love affair with my pricey frist response HPT is over. I’m done. I don’t want to be its friend anymore. It may think it’s cool, but it’s a jerk.

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End of day three of clomid

Well, I’ve gotta say… I don’t feel squat. 

I keep hearing these horror stories of mood swings and craziness on clomid and I haven’t noticed a thing. You could crush it up and hide it in my dinner and I’d never know.

Two days ago I had my girlfriend’s kids over for the afternoon/ eve while she was at work. Normally the kids all get along well but that night was one bicker after another and her kids cry. A lot. And I have no sympathy for senseless crying. I can’t count the amount of “suck it up”‘s that came out of my mouth that day.

Hubby turns to me half way through “are you sure you want more?”. Me, “you like them better when they’re your own”. 😉

Poor kids. I love them dearly, but I’m not the aunt that spoils. I’m the aunt that acts exactly like they are my own kids so they get away with NOTHING. On the upside, at my house when you’re good, we have dance parties and water fights and build cool forts.

So I’m about the take my 4th clomid (anyone else think it’s weird that it’s only a 5 day thing?) and wondering if I’m ever going to feel any different. Part of me thinks that if I can’t feel anything, it’s not working. That’s not my logical brain there so I’m trying to ignore it.

TTC solo

Can you conceive just from wishful thinking? I feel like I’ve had so many months in the last year that are write-off’s just because Hubby is out of town at the worst of times. I wonder sometimes if I could just get him to leave me a few samples in the freezer. Would that work? How the hell am I supposed to get pregnant if I’m flying solo half the time?

Holy Crap! is one year old

It’s been a year. Can you believe it? A year since I started this blog. A year since I was so full of grief and loss that I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.

I felt so alone, desperate to find others in the same position. Wishing to help others by my experience even if it was only to prevent them from feeling as alone as I did.

I wanted people to talk about it. I was so tired of miscarriage being a taboo subject, people made to feel that they had to keep it hushed up like it was shameful. Do we hide our grief when our parents die? Our brothers, sisters, friends? Our living children? No. People expect grief and mourning. So why are we supposed to hide it when we lose an unborn child?

So, months after my second loss, I decided that not only would I talk about it to others, but I’d write about my experience and hope that it could reach others. And then I found you guys. A whole community of women sharing in the same struggle, each in their own way, and I can honestly say that I have never been so grateful for a group of strangers in my life. And many of us aren’t really strangers anymore.

You guys have seen me through some dark times and some grade A quality denial, nearly giving up but then hopping back on that overly flogged horse for one more try. You guys have listened and supported, not judging when I needed to get things off my chest that were less than sweet, laughed with me and cried with me too. We all know that this journey can make us a little less than sane and at times others may question whether or not our logic is human logic, but at least we know we’re NOT alone here. We can be crazy with vegetable soup logic together.

I don’t know how much I’ve grown in the last year, maybe not at all. I know that I’m no longer nearly debilitated (that sounds like a made up word) with grief. I can go more than 60 seconds without focusing on my losses. I can talk about my miscarriages to others without turning into a puddle (I didn’t say without emotion). And the biggest thing, I can feel some hope for the future. I may never raise another child. My son may never have brothers or sisters. I may never get pregnant again or I may have another loss. I don’t know. But at least I can HOPE that someday Mo’s Flying Spaghetti Monster will deem me worthy of the gift of another child (through any means…anyone have a spare they want to send my way?).

So thank you guys. Thanks for witnessing my crazy ass go through it all, but mostly just for being here. I’m going to keep on keeping on, keep hoping, and well…keep being a crazy ass for the most part. But at least I know I’m going to be ok.

And just because I’m a big fan of the laughing…

It’s my anniversary?

this is Hubby and I’s wedding song.  Nothing Else Matters (S&M).

So, I get a phone call this morning from my grandparents.

“Happy Anniversary!”

?huh? “It’s my anniversary?”

“Isn’t today October 4th?”

…..”thanks for giving me the heads up” that’s a little embarrassing

I can’t help but love the fact that I have to be reminded about my own anniversary and occasionally birthdays, valentines day, so on and so forth. So now Hubby and I have officially been married for 8 years. Where does the time go? We’ve become such different people in the time since we got married. We’ve been through some incredibly hard times, probably more than most people who have only been together this long. If I met the old me I don’t know if I’d even recognize myself. I kinda miss those rose-colored glasses.

But what hasn’t changed is that we love each other, we support each other, and we take care of each other. The good thing about the struggles is that they brought us closer, we understand each other better, and we’re stronger.

When I told my grandparents what anniversary it was they were surprised, as many people are when they realize how much time has passed. But it wasn’t just how long it had been that surprised them.

“Oh really? We didn’t think you waited so long to have Monster”

“Ya…well, it took a while”.

It’s not fair of me to expect my family to remember every detail of our TTC (especially the generation that doesn’t talk about that sort of thing) since we didn’t talk about it until after we were pregnant. But I thought they’d at least recall that we had been seeing a fertility specialist. It took 3.5 years for me to get pregnant.

I guess I was just a little surprised that they said that since even if they don’t remember that we struggled pre-Monster, they know that we are struggling now. I guess it doesn’t go hand in hand. We could theoretically have waited those years before trying.

I supposed it’s really more the reminder that this is so difficult for us that struck me.

I couldn’t bite my tongue completely.

This little rant brought to you by the letter F and instigated by Eggs in a row.

So, the other day I was in the middle of a discussion. Middle in the physical sense, not really participating. Actually I was kinda trying to ignore it for the most part since it was baby talk. Future baby talk to be exact.

The jist: “We’re just going to wait until I finish school and then we’ll get pregnant…I’m going to have three children…”.

I couldn’t bite it back at that point. “Oh really?! You are? Just like that?” I may or may not have added in something else a little snippy but I can’t actually remember it so I can’t count it. What made this whole thing rub the wrong way?

A) She knows my history? Yes, but not the problem

B) She was in a room of at least three women, wait make that four, that have suffered miscarriages in the last few years (although nothing saying they weren’t just “coincidence”). Nope, that wasn’t it.

C) Common sence dictates that you can’t always get what you want and if you make a plan life with fuck you over? Nope, that still wasn’t it.

D) I was just being emotional since this was at the end of the baby shower I was at? Honestly no, this would have done it anyways.  (speaking of the timing can you tell that this has been bugging me all week?).

What really did me in was the fact that she has had 3…THREE! miscarriages before she’s even been trying. Don’t you just want to turn around and say “What the FUCK!? You KNOW better!” Or at least she should.

Maybe I should just congratulate her on her ignorance. We all wish we still had it. I just couldn’t understand it.

Birthday Pie

My brother sings this song ALL the time.

Yesterday me and Monster drove into the city to have a visit with my parent. We hadn’t seen them in at least three weeks and I figured that we’d start getting hate mail and guilt trip messages shortly if we didn’t. Mummy decided to throw an impromptu birthday dinner for me and my step-dad since everyone missed our birthdays (we were each gone for the days). That sounded fine to me, I mostly wanted my birthday pie and she was offering it that evening…who am I to refuse! Of course, with short notice only my little brother and his wife were able to come over.

Have I mentioned enough times how much I love my little brother? Lets just start calling him LB, it’s shorter. What does he give me for my birthday? “log me on to your amazon account and I’ll buy what’s in your cart”. Oh, I would just HATE that. And the icing on that cake was the card they gave me. It was VERY childish with a joke about pee, then “hap-pee birthday” inside, but it was a talking card so there’s “you said pee….peeeee…” and two voices that actually sounded just like my brother and his wife giggling about pee. Like I said, childish, but we all got a really good laugh (mostly about it actually sounding like them).

Of course when my birthday pie comes out, Mummy cuts pieces and we all start eating and I make fun that I didn’t get candles and a song. Just as if it were rehearsed, my step-dad sticks his finger in my pie (the candle) and they all sing away. I was too amused to be bothered by the finger in my pie (and I got another half pie to take home too).

LB and R just finished moving and LB was so excited about having a guest room that he spent a good part of the evening trying to convince me that Monster and I should just come for a slumber party with them. I hadn’t fed my cats enough to not come home, so we arranged that for next Monday and I’ll be able to go in and see about my tattoo then as well since the shop I’m going to try is open that day.

Mom suggested putting the baby feet on my hip since “that’s where you carry babies”. I really liked that reasoning so that’s high up in my picks at the moment. (suggestions are still welcome thought)

LB was also asking if Hubby was home for my ovulation this round. Now, there is supportive brother/ friend, but I have yet to see him over the last…year?…where he didn’t ask about our TTC. I’m thinking it’s not just about me anymore. Like he’s storing up any info he can get for future reference. So I brought up him and R going to a specialist. As far as I know, they aren’t TTC (they’re young and she’s just started in school), but they fit the criteria better than us and too many people wait until they’re older, more established, have been trying for a while, yada yada. Why wait until later to find out if there is something you can do/ not do…if there is something you need to know at all? I’ve mentioned it to R before, but I think she’s on the “if we do that it makes all this real” front. So I thought if LB knew about the option and they didn’t try…at least it’s two-sided that way.

When I found this I could perfectly picture my little brother singing this.

I have to remember reality. I have to be strong and pay attention. I have to consider reasons behind actions and not just take things at face value like I have a tendency to do. This is what will help me. This is how I will get though all of this shit and not let it destroy me.

My regular readers know what happened between me and Hubby when we were last trying to conceive. For anyone else, the short version is…he said he was ready to try again, all started ok but quickly he avoided me like the plague. He wouldn’t touch me with a ten foot pole and was always ‘sick’ if there was any chance of me being near a fertile portion of my cycle. He kept insisting that we were trying but all it was was denial on his part. He wasn’t ready, he looked at me and all he could see was the babies we lost, him almost losing me, and my insistence on doing something that would eventually kill me and leave him and Monster alone. But I saw my husband refusing to touch me, not talking to me and I thought I’d lost him. I sunk really low, lost a ton of weight (that I couldn’t afford to lose) and withdrew from everything around me.

So that’s a big contributor as to why I didn’t want to admit that we were TTC again. To myself and to others. Why I refused to dive back in head first. I’m scared that it will happen again and I’m pretty sure that we…or I…wont be able to survive it. There are a lot of things I can take, but that just ain’t one of them. He’s sworn up and down that he’s ready now, that he’ll tell me if he starts heading back into that place again, and I know what to look for (the distinct lack of a sex life being a giant clue, hey?). But I’m still scared of it.

That’s the main reason I’m doing everything I can to act like we’re not trying, while the fertility gods in the back of my head, strutting in all their phallic glory, are yelling at me about missing what could be my only chances by not paying closer attention. How many years of bad luck do you get for telling them to shove it?

I feel like if I give this my all again, I’ll just be setting myself up for another crash, and if I don’t give it my all…I’ll just end up getting nothing out of it.

Then my grade A quality stubborn side kicks right in. I ain’t givin’ up quite yet, I’ve got too much to lose. Nothing worth having is easy. Right ladies (and gent)?

I’ve been avoiding this post

the actual video for this song is pretty amusing, I’d suggest youtube’ing it. I just couldn’t link it and veiw it on here.

To be completely honest, I’ve been avoiding this post. Ya, I’ve been AWOL around here for months while Hubby and I jumped off the TTC wagon and back on the birth control, miscarriage counselling, and coffee. Well, the coffee was just me…you all know how much I love me my coffee.

So…I’m actually not too sure here, almost 4 weeks ago now I think…I had resigned myself to the fact that it was just not going to happen for me. I’d given up. I was never going to give my son siblings and I was never going to get off this hateful birth control if I wanted my hubby to come within 20 feet of me.

That very same night, Hubby rolls on over (we were laying down) and tells me he’s ready. What the HELL!? Part of me wanted to tell him where to stick it since I’d just started accepting the lack of trying, and of course the rest of me was saying “put tab A into slot B”. I go dispose of my birth control (more joyful about that than anything else really) and make a deal with myself that I’m going to do my best to ignore all fertility related news my body gives me. Good luck with that right? But I wanted to just ease into things as much as possible so I was going to try.

So far I’m actually doing pretty good. I’m not tracking my cycle day, my cervical position, trying not to track cervical fluid but it gets pretty damn obvious around the time you’re “not paying attention to” when you know what you’re looking at, and I’m not peeing on sticks twice a day. Lets see how long I can hold out. I’ve even kept to drinking my coffee for the time being to try and convince myself that life is normal, quiet and I’m not anxiously trying to grow another human (preferably) in my theoretically perfectly fine uterus.

Posting this is my admission to myself that we’re actually trying again. First step to recovery is admitting, or something like that? But I’m still not getting my hopes up. Yes, Negative Nelly, Pessimistic Penelope, Antagonistic Annie. Maybe I’ll get a cape and make a super hero out of this?

A different kind of progress

Well, it’s official. Hubby and I are no longer TTC. I can only hope that it’s not forever. I’m pretty sure that eventually we will try again, but I know that if we do and we loose again, there will be no options of ever trying again. Who knows, maybe he’d sneak out and get snipped while I wasn’t looking, just to be sure.

As has been painfully obvious to anyone in the know about our situation (aka you guys) Hubby has not been dealing with the issues at hand and was in some serious denial. He was so sure he’d dealt with the miscarriages and moved on but all he had done was to push them back and ignore them. What was the result? My own husband wouldn’t come near me with a ten foot pole, I became traumatized that he didn’t want me (way to kill any womans last ounce of self esteem), and our relationship has suffer right up to but not yet crossing irreparable damage.

I’ve tried talking to Hubby about these issues continuously, but in such a fashion that he was able to not admit to himself that the issues were anything other than in my head. I was depressed, he didn’t want to push me too much, so simply said that when I was ready to talk, he’d like me to see someone. One of those someones being his mother (actually that one turned into “If you dont call mom by the end of the week, I will and then you’ll have to talk to her”). She has suffered from severe depression and Hubby wanted me to have someone that could REALLY understand. But still, he was so sure that it was just a “me” issue and not an “us” issue.

So mom came out last week. I hadn’t talked to her yet because she’d been on holidays, and when she’d been here a couple days we had our chat. Well. No big shock that Hubby was pissed at the results because when she talked to him afterwards, he was still in denial. He didn’t talk to me for the next day, but surprisingly after about 24hrs, he pulled me aside to talk (aka rip a strip off me) and…he was forced to admit a lot of things…after the first half of the conversation chalked full of denial.

So the jist…

He wants more children, but is more afraid of me loosing another, and loosing me mostly, to follow through. My last miscarriage was so horrible physically (I’ll leave that for another post), that he’s afraid the next one will kill me (logic is not playing a role here, they don’t just get increasingly more severe each time they happen). So he’s set himself to me being selfish to risk my health/ life for a new child when he and Monster are here depending on me. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he didn’t want to TTC and was afraid that I would leave him if he refused. He finally admitted that sex and miscarriage were so linked in his mind that he couldn’t separate them enough to be with me, and that was where I made him realize that he didn’t deal with all this shit and he REALLY needs to see someone about it.

I’m going back on birth control as soon as The Red Lady comes, we’re going together to go see a counsellor from the Early Pregnancy Loss clinic as soon as she gets back to me, and he admits that he needs to be a bigger part of my and Monster’s lives (we have more of a roommate style relationship and that REALLY needs to change). Plus…he’s going to move me back into the city as soon as we can manage so I’m closer to my support network and have more resources available for me and Monster (since Hubby is gone so often with work).

Things are far from perfect here, but I’ve got some hope again that things can work out.