What does infertility feel like?

An infertility journey has been described as a rollercoaster, both emotionally and physically. My friends who have gone through (or are in the midst of) it have given the advice to

“roll with the punches.”

One of the things I don’t think our families and friends may realize is how insecure this whole process makes you. It changes your personality. Today I want to give some insight in to what going through infertility truly feels like. This is not in hopes of being a Debbie Downer, but in hopes of providing greater awareness to those who support us during this time and to make even one person going through this feel less alone.

In order to adequately grasp the emotional and physical change that happens during this time, I feel like I should share what life is like before infertility, first.

Before

Before infertility you had a routine. Maybe you got up in the morning, laughed with your husband, then got out of bed to get ready for work (or the day). Then you lingered into the kitchen, pulled out something for breakfast and ate. Once you got to work (or your activity for the day) you probably got focused on what you were doing. You were consumed with what was on your workload, running your errands, visiting with friends, going shopping, you get it, right? Sometime during the middle of the day you grabbed some lunch, possibly with co-workers, a friend, or your husband talking lightly and laughing or venting about your day. When you got back to what you were doing you hammer through the rest of the afternoon until it is time to head home. On the drive home you probably turn on the radio and jam out while releasing any pent up frustration or excitement from your day. Once you get home, you decide a nice workout would be good. So you get your running shoes on and workout clothes ready. After sweating it out, you decide it’s time to plan what you will make for dinner. When your husband gets home, you eat together and talk about how your day went and what will happen tomorrow. After watching some TV and unwinding together you head to bed and maybe share some intimacy before falling asleep. Tomorrow, you will wake up and do it all over again.

You see, life before infertility was full. Full of laughs, work, activity, and peace. You had some peace. But going through infertility changes a person in the smallest ways, that add up to be the most confining hardships.

During infertility, that routine you had is thrown off kilter on a whim based on emotional states that are uncontrollable at any given moment. Here is a look at what “during the infertility” looks like.

During

It’s the morning and you wake up immediately thinking, “Grab the thermometer.” You fumble in the darkness for the thermometer sitting on your nightstand and shove it in your mouth. When it begins to beep you shut it off quickly, so you don’t wake up your husband. Then, quietly, you look at the temperature and record it to chart your cycle patterns. (Depending on the temperature, it could put you into a good mood or steal any hope you had for this cycle.)

Your husband wakes up and you cuddle and talk for awhile before getting out of bed and fixing yourself for the day. Before actually getting ready, you pull out your daily pee stick. Depending on the day in your cycle you will be doing an ovulation predictor kit (OPK) or a home pregnancy test (HPT). So you hold the little Dixie cup, barely peeing on yourself and then dip the strip. NOW, you can get ready. NOW, you feel comfortable enough taking a shower and putting on that makeup.

As you feel the hot water running through your hair and down your back you begin to think, “Maybe this is too hot. Maybe this is cooking my eggs/baby,” and you turn the water down slightly. As you begin to put your makeup on, your remember to use the waterproof mascara, in case you have a ‘moment’ during the day and need to stay composed.

Then you mosey on into your kitchen, deciding what to have for breakfast. Cereal sounds good! But then you remember that the nutritional diet you should be following doesn’t encourage so much sugar and actually suggests eating more eggs and whole wheats. So, you make an egg sandwich instead. Even though you HATE eggs, because, it’s for the baby! You begin to pack your lunch for the day, making sure there are all of the food groups included. Especially leafy greens and other veggies because they are packed with the vitamins your body could be deficient in. Then you fill up your water bottle (because maybe pop is the reason you can’t get pregnant) and you head out the door.

Once you get to work you begin to focus on your workload and holy crap is there a ton to do. So you put the pedal to the metal and get going, until you reach that one thing that is supposed to be presented on Friday. FRIDAY!!?!!??! NO! You have to be at your ultrasound monitoring appointment Friday. Oh gosh, now you have a dilemma. Do you cram to finish it early and have it done Thursday for someone else to present? Or do you talk to your boss and possibly just present it Monday instead? Which brings up how you are going to tell your boss, for the 3rd time in two weeks that you need to be gone again. Okay, push it aside. You will talk with your boss later and just cram to get it done early so that they are proud of you and satisfied with your work still.

Maybe today you aren’t working and instead you are running errands and shopping around town. Today you need to get groceries, so you go to the local grocery store and walk around. As you head to the feminine aisle you make sure to hide the 88 cent collection of HPTs that you just picked up under the other groceries so people don’t notice how desperate you look. As you reach the checkout line there is a sweet little family in front of you. A little boy, probably 2, and his beautifully round pregnant momma. You say a little prayer that one day this will be you too and you begin to tear up, right there in the checkout lane number 12. It’s your turn and you suck in the tears as you place your items on the conveyor. The worker begins to ring up the pregnancy tests, 1 after another, by the 4th one her eyes get big and you just know she is thinking, “What the hell lady?” You smile and nod and quickly pay for your items because you just want out of there!

Then it’s lunchtime. Whether you go out with co-workers or meet up with a friend or two the conversation always stays similarly the same. You talk about their families, their lives beyond work. “Ugh, my kids are just such a pain,” they complain. As they talk about the challenges of parenthood you fight the feelings to just shout, “I WANT THAT! I WOULD GIVE ANYTHING FOR THAT!” Then the conversation turns to you. “When will you have kids?” They ask. “You should wait and savor all of your you time while you can!” They suggest. All you want to do is cry. You hold it together and change the topic, or tell them you need to get back to your work/errands and you get the hell out of there. Lately you feel so alone, like you are the 5th wheel when hanging out with your friends because they all already have kids and you can’t contribute to the conversation anymore.

You head back to work, remembering all that you need to get accomplished by tomorrow in order to go to your appointment Friday. So you bust your ass getting it finished and go to talk with your boss. She’s starting to get suspicious about all these absences and although she appreciates that you got your work done before it was due, you can tell she’s a little irritated and disappointed. You want to tell her so bad, but fear what her reaction will be and the vulnerability you will feel confiding in her about this hardship in your life.

As you get home you think about going to work out, because it just sounds so good. You remember when you used to work out and feel so strong and thin. It made you feel so good! Then your mind remembers what your OB and RE said about excessive exercise and how it can lower pregnancy rates. So, instead of going for a run you grab a few snacks and park it in front of the TV. Your body image is lacking right now. You feel like you are gaining weight left and right but can’t do anything about it. Your clothes are fitting tighter and you wonder how the hell your husband still finds you attractive. After all this, how can he look at me and think I’m beautiful anymore? I don’t feel beautiful or strong. I feel weak.

A while later you decide to cook some dinner. You love cooking! When your husband gets home you sit down to eat together and update him on the latest appointment you have made. The both of you are nervous for the unknown and what will come of the appointment so you try to soak up the awkwardness and emotion by changing the subject to something completely random.

Side note–On certain special nights, you also ask your husband to inject you with a needle full of hormones before cleaning up the kitchen from dinner.

As you head to bed, you think about what day in your cycle you are on and if it’s essential you have sex tonight to get that good timing in. In an attempt to keep the romance alive, you try to turn him on and get him in the mood but really he knows what this is about and you do too. This is about making a baby. This isn’t about fun, carefree, intimate sex, this is for a purpose. Eventually you get the job done and feel a bit guilty that this feels like a job. You never wanted to lose that spark that you had with your husband. It just kind of, happened.

Before falling asleep, you begin thinking all sorts of thoughts. Oh vacation sounds so amazing right now! Even just a long weekend away would be nice. But wait, you have no idea when your next appointments will be. What if you have to have your IUI that weekend? Vacation will have to be postponed and you are disappointed at that thought. You roll over, make sure your thermometer is easily accessible, and drift off to sleep knowing you will do this all over again tomorrow.

My point of this long anecdote is not to depress or seek pity from anyone. The point of this post is to emulate how all encompassing and secluding an infertility journey can be. This process effects literally ALL aspects of your life. From your self image to your marriage, friendships and career. It is hard and it is real. It’s not something we need pity for, but we need understanding and empathy during this time. For those of you who are reading this because you have a friend dealing with infertility, know that this is when your friend needs your friendship most. If they have chosen to share with you, they trust that you will be a pillar of strength and understanding for them. They don’t expect you to fix or suggest solutions to the problems, they simply need a safe place to feel and process all the emotions that come with infertility. If you are reading this because you are going through infertility, I hope you feel less alone. I hope you know that you are not the only one going through the confinement and seclusion that is infertility. Your emotions are normal and you are learning how to deal with this one day, hour, or minute at time. Give yourself permission to feel what you need to and reach out to others for support.

If you feel alone, frustrated, or like you are jailed in your own body right now feel free to reach out at any time. I would love to support you through this troubling time.

Feel comfortable to email hopingforaherd@gmail.com

Fighting for my Family

One foot in front of the other.

I’ve had to keep reminding myself this over the last few weeks. I also need to explain my sudden and extended absence from blogging recently. So, here it goes.

During my last update post, I was feeling really down and discouraged about my 21 day LP and no BFP or period in sight. I contacted my RE and he had me come in for blood work as well as an ultrasound. I made the long trek to the office on a Saturday morning and met with the weekend doctor. She was very nice. During the ultrasound I noticed that the picture looked so huge, and different. Unlike my cysts that usually appear on the screen. I asked her what it was and she replied, “This is a cyst, and it looks like it has fluid within it. It could be leftover from ovulation.” At which point my hopes immediately rose that maybe I had actually ovulated, just late, and I could still be pregnant.

I then went to get blood work to check my progesterone levels as well as re-test my TSH while I was there. When in Rome you know? She said she would be personally calling me by 3:00 that afternoon with results and next steps.

3 o’clock came and went. No call.

Then 4 o’clock, 5’o clock, 6 o’clock and by 7 o’clock I knew she had forgotten about me. I was so discouraged and frustrated. I decided I would call Sunday morning (Mother’s Day) to check in with the weekend doctor and ask for my results and next steps.

I was beat to the punch though when my RE himself called me at 6:54 on Sunday, Mother’s Day morning and woke me up. I was a little shocked, but definitely wanted to know what was going on. He explained that my blood work showed my progesterone was at a 1, but my ultrasound indicated my cysts had grown and one was haemorrhagic. Basically, it was filled with blood. He indicated that this is most likely due to a corpus luteum cyst that would develop after ovulation. Additionally, because my period hadn’t showed up yet he prescribed Provera to induce my period. He said because my cysts had changed size as well as became haemorrhagic I would need to cancel the next cycle as well and wait for the haemorrhagic cyst to go away. At this point I was bawling on the phone. My doctor was very understanding and acknowledged how difficult this must be for me. It actually meant a lot to me that he took time out of his day, morning, Mother’s Day with his wife and kids to call me, ME!

Knowing my history of having cysts at EVERY appointment and US I’ve ever had I asked him what the next steps would be should the cyst still be there at my next ultrasound. Simply put, he recommended laparoscopic surgery to remove it if it isn’t gone by my next period.

SURGERY! Holy freaking shit. I was in shock. Disbelief. Horror. Fear.

I decided to unplug from all technology that day and just spend it with my husband doing things with him that would make me feel like “me” again. The old me I guess. So I did and I began to accept the situation and feel a little better. By that evening, my period had arrived all on her own. Such is life that the things you are waiting for show up when you aren’t expecting. No Provera for me, but this meant another cycle worth of waiting, wondering and praying for these cysts to resolve themselves.

The next day, Monday, my RE called me again. I was in the middle of class when the phone rang and I dropped everything, hushing the students and asking them to color quietly for a few minutes. I answered, hopeful that he had changed his mind and I could continue with this cycle. That was not the case. Instead he said something like this, “Hello Mrs. D, I was reviewing your old ultrasounds and HSG and noticed that they are conflicting. Your ultrasounds show that you have a septate uterus. Your HSG does not match this finding.” Wait, what?! Shock ensued. He then explained what a septate uterus is. When girls are being created in their mothers’ womb, their uterus comes together from two halves and fuses together making one, smooth, whole organ. However, in a septate uterus, the halves do not fuse smoothly and completely leaving a little ‘flap of skin’ around where the halves came together on the inside of the uterus. This can cause recurrent miscarriages.

Remember, I’m in the middle of my classroom, full of first graders, the week before school is about to get out, and now receiving news that not only an I not get pregnant but when I do I may face recurrent miscarriages. The tears were welling up, I was barely holding it together in front of my class.

Dr. Yamakha proceeded to tell me he is requesting I get a pelvic MRI to determine whether or not I really do have a septate uterus. If I do, he would also like me to have hysteroscopy that would go in and cut out the excess skin inside the uterus and correct the problem.

Now I’m potentially facing not one, but TWO surgeries. The news was soul crushing to me in that moment and I began to feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I managed to finish out the last two hours of the day and leave work immediately when kids did. I called my husband, cried and he came home to be with me. I cried, and cried. Wallowing in my self-pity and feelings of failure.

After a few days, the news began to settle in. I began to accept that this is what my next steps were. I could stand up and fight against this infertility or I could sulk and quit. I chose to stand up and fight. I began calling my insurance company for pre approval of an MRI and looking for the cheapest, yet best facilities to get it done. This week I found out my MRI was approved and I chose a good imaging facility on the front range to do it. After many phone calls between Sally Jobe, my RE’s office, and the insurance company I have scheduled my MRI for this coming Friday at 4:30. Brandon will be going with me for support as well.

Right now I’ve resigned myself to one of the following outcomes:

1. I have a septate uterus and require a hysteroscopy.
2. I have cysts that remain and require a laparoscopy.
3. I have a septate uterus and still have cysts and need both hysteroscopy and laparoscopy (which I will ask to do at the same time if possible).
4. I have no septate uterus and the cysts have cleared up completely, allowing me to move on with IUIs in June.

The odds are, I will need some sort of surgery, but I’m preparing myself to hear those words. I’m preparing myself to go through this scary process in the hopes of being one step closer to a baby in my arms.

I’ve been really struggling with my faith and feelings towards God right now, but at the same time trying to trust in Him. This has been a true test of my faith. I am praying that my body heals and I don’t have a uterine anomaly. Most of all I’m praying for my marriage. This has been hard on us. My feelings have been all over the place and my husband just doesn’t work that way. As much as I know this is difficult for him, we grieve differently and sometimes that’s just hard.

Thank you all for your well-wishes, prayers and thoughts for me during this difficult time for me.

I must share that the day I got the final “bad” call about my potentially septate uterus there was a short rainstorm at my house. The following picture was taken from my front porch. Maybe it is a sign of better things to come… Or two better things to come?

If it’s what’s ahead that scares you, and what’s behind hurts you, look above and God will guide you.

Still nothing.

Today I just feel stupid.

I am on CD 32 of my current cycle. 18 days past my positive ovulation test. I’ve had 2 BFNs, and AF is no where to be seen.

This was a medicated cycle with 100 mg Clomid and was cancelled on CD 12 due to no mature follicles. I wasn’t responding to the Clomid appropriately.

I know so many of you have cycles longer than 32 days and I shouldn’t be complaining. I just feel so broken. When I’m not on medicated cycles, I can ovulate. When I am on medicated cycles, who knows what the heck happens.

I feel like maybe I should call my RE and ask if this is typical and if there is anything I should do? Then I feel stupid even considering calling because I know that some women have MUCH longer cycles than this and are probably just told to wait it out. Ultimately I feel like my body has let me down again.

I was supposed to be doing a baseline ultrasound and blood work by now. I was supposed to be starting Femara by now. I was supposed to be getting another chance by now. I’m just bummed. So, incredibly bummed.

With the upcoming holiday this weekend, it’s not helping me feel like anything less than a failure.

Thanks for reading my vent session….if you made it this far.

Dear Husband

Dear Husband,

I want you to know that this journey is something I never fathomed we would have to go on. Never in my wildest dreams did I think we would one day be discussing the side effects of fertility drugs over dinner.

I know I’ve been a wreck, but this mess of a situation hasn’t been easy on you either. I know it has to be hard on you watching me cry, become self-conscious and distant for no reason. For that, I am sorry. I wish this could be easier on the both of us, really. Neither one of us deserve to wonder if we will ever get the chance to be parents. Some days I wonder if you had just married someone else, you wouldn’t have had to go through all of this.

I’m sure at times you think I should just “calm down and quit ‘rushing it’.” I bet from your standpoint it must feel like I’m constantly obsessing over doctors appointments, times, sub plans, medications I need to take, temping, charting, peeing on things, etc. You are probably wondering what happened to the laid back girl you married years ago.

I need you to know though, that this truly is a pendulum of emotions for me. One minute I feel hopeful that we are going to try something new and maybe get answers or a chance at getting pregnant. The next second I am stressing that my body will continue to be a failure at the new plans set forth by our doctor. It’s hard not to question and second guess every decision that has to be made after facing so many obstacles. Is this the right thing? Is this what God would want? Is this what my husband wants?

I feel like a magic 8 ball that gets asked all the questions, but never has any good answers.

I feel like it’s easier for you to see the end goal instead of the struggles I have to face along the way. I have had to undergo painful testing, embarrassing questioning, showing a million and ten strangers my vajayjay, eat funky diets, digest crazy pills, use half of my sick days, plan minute for minute what my sub should do while I’m away at a moments notice and be the one to stare the the Big. Fat. Negative. that I see every month.

If it was as easy as us just making love and creating a baby I would LOVE to give up all that anxiety. It would be so freeing to just ‘quit hurrying and pushing things’. If only I hadn’t been told that this was only something we have a 2% chance of doing on our own. That statistic was sobering to hear. I feel like I have to do everything I can, every single day, in order to even have the opportunity to get pregnant.

Since my body is the one that has to actually do the work, I feel like I’m the one who has to bear the brunt of the burden. That’s not to say that you don’t have to carry your own weights that come with infertility, it’s just that I carry the physical ones.

During this time I need you more than ever. I need from you understanding, clarity and strength. In my weakest moments, my fearful, anxiety ridden breakdowns of self-doubt, I need you to be my rock. I need to hear those calming words, “I love you. We will make it through this.” I need reassurance that everything I’m feeling is justified and there is no answer at that moment. I need your embrace and genuine understanding of my emotion. I need you to be in my corner. I also need you to be a guide through the decision making process.

The decisions that have to be made are hard. When to move on to something new? How much of a drug is too much? What will our hard limits be as far as treatment goes? What can we afford? When do we advocate for something else in our treatment plan? These are decisions that we must face head on, together. To put it simply, it takes two to tango. This is our tango.

Above all though, I love you and couldn’t imagine going through this with anyone else. Even though there will be days that I am distant, tearful and hard to manage, deep down I could not keep going without you. You are my person. The one who understands me and knows me better than I know myself at times. You are the future father of my children. You, are my husband and one day I, will be myself again.

With Love,

Your Wife

April Report Card

Last time I updated about myself I was about to begin my first medicated IUI cycle. Ha! Here’s my monthly report card:

First Medicated Cycle- F. (For FAIL)

Last week was a bit of a whirlwind and I apologize for such a late update post. On CD 9 I began doing OPKs to check that I we weren’t going to miss my surge. That morning the OPK was so dark that I anticipated a surge the next day. After some debating, I decided to call the RE and leave a message with my OPK results.

They asked me to come in the next day, CD 10 (last Wednesday), to do an ultrasound and check my response. I got a sub, made my plans and headed to the RE’s office the next morning. The ultrasound tech didn’t say much during the scan, which I usually take as a sign of something not great. I met with a nurse and she said that my follicles were not mature yet and she wanted to do blood work to check my LH levels. I left with another blood vial donated and was told to come back on Friday, CD 12.

So… Again I got a sub, made sub plans, drove the long way up to the office and waited for my scan. The ultrasound tech was more chatty this time, but I could tell that she was trying not to say too much. (Another BAD sign.) She finished taking my measurements and I was sent to the little room dedicated for short consultations after wards.

To my surprise, Dr. Yarmulke  came to see me. This actually freaked me out a little. I mean, I haven’t talked to this man since our initial consultation and had kind of resigned myself to the fact that he only handled the “big stuff.” My heart sank. He sat down and told me that my body did not respond to Clomid. At all. UGH! The frustration was boiling, but I kept my cool. He said that he was going to cancel the IUI because it would be “pointless” at this time due to my immature follicles. (For those of you newbies out there, a follicle is considered mature if it is between 18-20 mm.) He said that next cycle he wants me to try Femara/Letrozole and that some women just respond better to Femara v. Clomid and vise versa.

Needless to say I was disappointed, but honestly, what can I do about it? I guess I’ve been looking at it as one more thing to cross of the list. Hopefully Femara will have a better outlook from my body. I can’t help but wonder though if I have some kind of estrogen producing problem. I rarely have *TMI WARNING* cervical mucous during ovulation and my eggs obviously didn’t respond to the Clomid. I plan to ask the doctor about this concern at my next appointment but for now, I just wait.

Maybe my next report card I’ll make the honor roll! Wishful thinking, right?

The Target Parking Lot

Today is a shitty day.

I went in for my CD 3 follicle scan and things did NOT go as planned. (Remember how the plan was already jacked up, it got even more twisted.) During the scan they told me that I did not have enough MMR (measles/mumps/rubella) antibodies in my system and needed a booster shot.

They also told me that my TSH (thyroid) levels were 2.71. This is within the normal range of .45-4.5 but for trying to get pregnant purposes, they would like to see below 2.5. So… I had more blood drawn to check current TSH levels and we will see if I need to be placed on medicine for this.

In addition to that, I was told I have not 1. Not 2. But 3 gigantic cysts on my ovaries. Usually I have cysts on my ovaries, but apparently these ones were extra big and it was unsafe for me to continue with a medicated cycle and IUI. Needless to say I was disappointed.

AND THEN……

The doctor told me that in order to make the cysts go away she was going to put me on birth control pills for 3 weeks. At the end of the 3 weeks I will have another scan to determine if the cysts went away.

Devastated is how I am feeling. That clarity and peace I spoke of a few posts ago… Gone. I am hurt, angry, frustrated and honestly just feel pathetically helpless.

Oh, and also, I have a severe head cold right now. So, after leaving the doctors office in tears I began driving home and had to pull over at a Target on the side of the road for Kleenex, red eye drops and concealer.

I couldn’t make it to the checkout before needing a tissue and had to rip open the package. When I got to the checkout the poor checkout boy had no idea how to handle me. Picture me, staring at him through tears and bloodshot eyes with a 4 pack of Kleenex, my eye drops and makeup. As he was explaining how I could apply for a Target card and save 5% he quickly shut down his sales pitch and corrected himself with, “At least there’s not many people in here right now.”

Bless his heart. I’m sure I looked like a complete WRECK and here is this poor teenage boy, lost in what to even say to such an emotional woman. I quickly said, “Yep, thanks,” and walked away.

I promptly proceeded to my car, where I let it all hang out. Including the half a box of now used tissues strung out all over my car. As the lady pulled up in the car next to me I’m sure she also thought I was a loon, but I didn’t even care. I just don’t understand. I am doing everything I can to make this work and I am completely powerless. I also feel like if I talk about it I will be judged. Like maybe I should just suck it up because it’s only 3 weeks. I hate being the center of attention, especially for something I am vulnerable about. Hence this blog that I have invited 0 family or in real life friends to read to date.

As I was talking to a friend about the “new plan” she said, “Well, maybe with teaching this will make for a better maternity leave for you.” I understand that she meant well, but quite frankly I don’t give a shit about when my maternity leave is. It’s super hard to be hopeful or positive about anything TTC related when every time I turn around there is a setback.

Now, I wait… And try to recover emotionally from yet another disappointment. Let’s be real though, I’m probably going to google the shit out of how to homeopathically get rid of cysts because my biggest fear is that they won’t actually go away.

The ‘Plan’.

How do you deal when life doesn’t go in the order that it’s supposed to? We grow up with this notion that first there is childhood, then youth, adulthood, find a partner, get married, buy a house, start a family, grow old together. What happens when the timeline gets stretched and snapped like a rubber band?

I’ve been struggling with this question throughout our year of trying for a baby and still have no clear answer, except to keep trudging onward. After meeting with our RE last Friday we decided on a plan to move on with Clomid (to stimulate my ovaries to grow eggs that are beautiful) followed by an Ovidrel trigger shot to induce ovulation and then IUI (Interuterine Insemination). I will then take progesterone suppositories until my Beta blood test to see if I am pregnant.

The plan sounded okay. I was at peace. It was the end of my cycle anyway and I should have started my period in 3 or so days and onward we would march into IUI land. I could deal with the plan.

My body, however, does not like the plan. I stopped taking progesterone pills on Sunday. This is the part where my period should arrive because the pregnancy tests says, YOU LOSE. Except, my uterus has decided to just stay perfectly content doing absolutely nothing. It is now Thursday morning (3 1/2 days since taking the last pill) and I still am not bleeding. I suppose I have had minimal spotting, but nothing super encouraging like good ole Auntie Flo was on her way.

The plan is all messed up.

I get that when you have plans, life and God will show you otherwise, but really? I just feel helpless. Completely and utterly helpless in the fact that my body fails at doing what it needs to. There is nothing more I can do. I must wait. I must be patient. I know I’m going to drive myself crazy constantly thinking about when I will be able to keep moving forward with our next steps.

To add fuel to my fiery mess of the plan we once had, my nurse had sent a prescription for the Ovidrel shot to a by mail pharmacy. I have never done this before, but trusted that it would be fine. I called the company and set up delivery for a week from now. This shot must be refrigerated and is shipped overnight to ensure quality. It is also a controlled substance and must be signed for upon delivery. Yesterday, my husband got home around 7 p.m. and noticed  a sticker on our front window. The Fed Ex people had attempted to deliver a package that needs to be signed for, but no one was here so they would attempt tomorrow.

AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

You can’t just leave Ovidrel overnight at a Fed Ex facility unrefrigerated!! It ruins the shot, it ruins everything. AND I DIDN’T EVEN ORDER IT TO BE SENT YET!!!

So here I sit. Waiting to start a plan that at this point is all jumbled up.

Screw the plan.

I was at peace with waiting for God and thought that this month was what we were waiting for. Waiting to stop temping, stressing about cycle days, etc. Apparently I was wrong.

 

Humbled. Heartbroken. Hopeful.

As a little girl, I remember playing on the swing set outside my house talking with my brother about what we wanted to be when we grew up. He wanted to be a cowboy, following in our father’s footsteps, but the career I wanted to pursue was mom. It seemed fulfilling, meaningful, and..well…natural. I just couldn’t picture anything else.

Fast forward 20 years. Here I am, a first grade teacher who pulls a side job in taking care of her cow herd and helping her husband raise and harvest crops in my spare time. Life may be a little different than what I had pictured, but nothing could have prepared me for this last year.

After dating for 4 years, Brandon and I finally tied the knot June 22, 2013. We continued building our life, business, and began planning for a future family. It wasn’t until March of 2015 we decided we were ready to try for a baby. Deciding this was no small feat, it took a year of talking about back and forth before we were both on board. In April we came to the conclusion that no time would ever be the “right time” and we would take a leap of faith. With this decision we also chose not to tell anyone we were trying. We talked about how fun it would be to surprise our families with our news of a new little one on the way.

We ditched the pill pack had some unprotected sex and damn, I felt liberated. Sex became this whole new level of intimacy. Now I don’t want to go describing it as some romance novel. We aren’t actors by any means. Nor are we super sexy and lovey dovey. Nonetheless, there was a deeper connection between the two of us. We were going to make a baby. A human child. OUR human child.

To our dismay, we found out I was not pregnant. That was okay, we would just get pregnant next month. So we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Waited some more.

Became frustrated.

Tried everything in the book.

Waited even longer.

Waited impatiently.

Kept on waiting.

Cried, and waited.

Now, 12 cycles, an HSG test, a semen analysis, some blood work, progesterone pills and an RE appointment later. Here we sit. Humbled. Heartbroken. And still hopeful for a future filled with children. Hell, at this point a future filled with even one child sounds like a miracle from the big man.

The picture we had in mind for telling our families our big news has now become smudged. The faith we had in our bodies, depleted. (Literally…progesterone does some weird shit to you.) Our joy in trying for a baby, turned to heartbreak.

It’s time to talk about this journey. It’s time to stop feeling ashamed of myself. It’s time to be strong and move forward with my life…while we patiently wait to build a herd of our own.