You Make Me So Very Happy

My sweet bloggy friend Anxious Mummy has graciously awarded me the Happy 101 award. Thankfully she did it after I had a great weekend. :) Thanks for the love sweetie!


When you receive the Happy 101 Award, you have to list 10 things that make your day and then list 10 blogs worthy of this award as well. Post a link to the blogs you nominate, and make sure you let them know that they have been nominated!

Here are my 10 things:

1. Being with my baby girl. I just can't get enough of her. I am so glad I went through so much to get her because she was worth every step of the journey. In fact, she made it so worth it, I am willing to go to even greater lengths to give her a sibling.
2. Cuddling with DH. I always feel so safe and warm in his arms. I always tell him that I just fit right in the nook of his arm. Our snuggle time is a nightly occurrence, and is always very looked forward to.
3. My pooches. There is nothing in this world like a good dog, and I have two of the best. Their unconditional love and amazing snuggles help me get through some of the roughest days. Not only that, but they are great cleaners. The Munchkin throws food on the floor or spits up, and the dogs go to work. Gross, but great.
4. Spring in Texas. It feels like spring here the last few days and I just can't get enough. It is so rejuvenating and exciting. I feel like everything is fresh and good things are waiting to happen. In fact, I bought seeds, pots and dirt this weekend, and the Munchkin and I planted them today.
5. Tex Mex. Spicy Mexican food that has been Texanized. I am a guacamole fiend.
6. My bed. Enough said.
7. Friends, blog and IRL. I have never had so many friends in my life until I started my blog and then moved to Texas. The support and love that is shown in tough times could move the biggest mountain. I am so glad to not only be supported, but to reciprocate. There is nothing as warming as knowing you helped make someone's day.
8. Music. I could not live in a world without music. I listen to it everywhere, all day long.
9. Flowers. They smell and look great. They make my day and my world a prettier place to live.
10. Plants. I didn't have a green thumb until I started IF treatments. Now I have a house full of plants. I love watching them grow and flower. I am always on the lookout for new additions.

Update!

I happily pass this award along to Suzanne! Thanks for giving me someone to pass happiness onto!

If anyone else hasn't had it, please let me know. :)

We're Back On Track!

I had my HSG this morning, and I am sure my doctor thinks I am a freak because I feel like the news she delivered to me was good. First of all, the HSG was not bad at all. I thought it was going to be worse. I didn't have any cramping and only very minor discomfort. Hurrah!

I was on needles and pins the whole time, watching the screen like a hawk, trying to determine if things were good or bad. Basically I have a section in my uterine wall that is 1/4 the thickness of the rest of the uterus. The space in the wall where this occurs isn't very big, but big enough to attempt a pregnancy without surgery is extremely risky and not advised.

Basically what we were told today is that if we want to get pregnant, we have to do surgery. Sweet. We're all for it. I've already made an appointment with the specialist for our initial consult. Unfortunately it isn't until the 23rd of next month, so more waiting. Isnt't that we infertiles are famous for anyway?

After the surgery I am still at a 40% risk of a rupture during pregnancy. We have been told what we are up against and how all of it would be handled should any of it occur. We're pretty much planning on me spending weeks, if not months, toward the end of the pregnancy in the hospital should I get knocked up. My doctor wishes we would choose not to move forward, but I excitedly (hence her thinking I'm crazy) told her we are going to do so anyway.

So right now things don't look any worse than they did a year ago, we've just had to add some time to our TTC #2 timeline, which I can absolutely deal with when my only other option is no more children. We're moving this wagon forward!

Also, if you haven't heard of Conc.ieve magazine, I seriously recommend looking into it. We were reading through it while we were waiting to be taken back for the HSG and it had some really great information as far as infertility TTC options, doctors, and clinics are concerned. It is geared toward us infertiles. I stole a copy to give to one of my friends and to get some info out of the back for another. I am going to get a subscription for sure, and probably send one to another friend.

The Party is Over!

Today I went to yoga at lunch. As I got into the groove of things, a wave of sadness hit me as I craved my favorite pregnancy meal, Chi.ck-fil-a chicken nuggets, waffle fries, and a chocolate shake with a cherry on top. I was so overcome with grief because I wanted so badly to do that again, and here I was, facing the fact that it might not happen.

Then I got mad.

So I started stretching through the poses harder. I started taking out my sadness and anger in each move. As I did so, my anger turned into fight.

I am taking this bull by the horns, and I am going to run with it.

I am done with this pity party dammit!

I AM going to get pregnant again.

We're going to go through the testing. We're going to get second and third opinions. We're going to find out what we're up against. Then we're going to do the surgery, wait for my body to heal, and then

I WILL BRING ANOTHER CHILD INTO THIS WORLD!

I know what I am up against. I know the risks, and I am willing to take my chances. The chances are higher everything will be fine than not, even if it is a slim margin.

If worst comes to worst, I will end up on bed rest in a hospital so that I can get immediate care if I rupture. My baby will be fine, and I will be fine. I am going to do this.

Aaaannnd, I'm back! *takes a bow*

Its Not Real Today

I can't believe how well I got through today. Actually, I can. I made myself numb to what is going on. Like Gol.lum, I told myself it isn't real, that I wasn't listening to the voice in my head that told me to wake up and face the facts. I felt fake today. I was back to my normal, cheerful self, as if Friday had never happened. All the while I knew in my head I could be depressed and crying again tomorrow.

Why don't I feel like this is real? Is it the denial stage of grief, or is it that I have hope this can be fixed? I don't dare to think it is the latter. Not after I had so much faith that everything was going to be fine for the past year only to have that ripped from me on Friday.

Yesterday I was angry. I know that is one of the five stages of grief. I have had moments of acceptance, but mostly I've been angry. I was angry on and off today, but it didn't send me off the deep end like it did yesterday. It was like there was a cotton ball shielding me from feeling the anger in my core. Or maybe I just don't want to face it today. Avoidance works well. Maybe if I don't admit it, it won't be true. But it IS true.

I can't count the number of times I sat and thought to myself today, "How did I get here again?"

I tell people it isn't fair I am fighting this battle again. My husband tells me everyone has to fight a battle, and this is mine. If I didn't have this, what would I rather have instead? I am still trying to answer that.

What lesson am I supposed to learn from this other than doctors can be dumb as dog shit sometimes?

My world has been completely turned on its head, and I am trying to make it right again.

I am so tired. I just want to sleep and make this all go away. I hope I am numb again tomorrow because it makes it so much easier to deal with it. Right now, I am honestly just trying to live in each moment as it comes. I am trying not to think about my HSN on Friday and what we are going to find. I am trying not to foresee how I will react to good or bad news. I am just trying to exist and enjoy each moment where I don't think about it.

I can't believe I am back here.

Why Don't the Pieces Fit?

Back before I met my husband, my best friend was a guy. One day we were going out for a hike, and as we were waiting at a stop light to get on the freeway, he told me of a song he had heard on the radio that sang about, "Why don't the pieces fit?" and how he felt that song applied to him. That moment always stuck with me because on that day, we were both in a dark spot, which is why we were going hiking. Today I am reminded of that song.

I didn't have a good day emotionally today, as Jill and Suzanne were witness to before yet another blog post met the graveyard. (Thank you ladies for your very sweet comments. I hope to have the mess cleared up soon. Thank you Jill for telling me about the comment. I went and posted a reply. I didn't realize I could do that until you said something.) As those of you who struggle with depression know, you just never know how you are going to continue handling bad news on any given day. Some days you are okay, and others it feels like the sky is falling. Today my sky was falling.

Today I felt angry. I felt let down. I felt every angry emotion in the book. I went to my shrink appointment, hoping she could help me dig my way out a little bit. Instead, I think it made me fall back into my PTSD, which is fine, because I realize I might need to take two steps back before I can move forward. I went in and tried not to shout that I didn't know why I am back here in this place. Why I didn't think it was fair. I cried. I hurt. I told her I didn't understand. I didn't give her a chance to say much, because today I needed to question everything. I just needed her to listen.

She asked me every question I have asked myself over the last few days, and I gave her all of my answers. I told her I feel like I am constantly trying to dig my way out of a cave, trying to find any little glimmer of hope that I can, but once I explore that glimmer I also have to explore the risks and complications, which push me back to where I started. How the ever living hell did I end up back here? I feel so forsaken. I don't understand, and I don't think I ever will. I am still trying to digest this, and the more real it becomes, the angrier I get.

I am so battered and beaten. I am shocked. I am hurt.

During our session I kept telling her I needed my husband there. I need him to really hear me, and I need for him to express what he feels about all of this. I love the man, but he cannot share emotion to save his life (I blame his mother 100%).

Tonight I called my husband to ask him to stop off at the pharmacy on his way home to get a prescription for our daughter's new case of pink eye (courtesy of daycare and just another spoiler to my day). He could hear by my voice I wasn't doing well. I cried and begged him to please go to the shrink with me next week. I have been asking him since I started going. He finally, finally told me he would go with me. No hesitation, just a very gentle, "Okay." I told him thank you and that I couldn't do this alone. He then told me he would only go once a week. I was shocked, I thought I'd only get a one-time deal out of it. I guess he finally understands where I am and how much I need this from him. I think he also understands that this fight is bigger than us both.

I am just hanging on for the day when I am able to start picking up the pieces and putting my life back together. I am in a holding pattern right now and will be at least until the end of this week when I have my sonohystogram, if not longer, depending on if I need the MRI. I'm not sure if I want to know the answer to the testing. I'm scared.

When will the pieces fit?

ICLW

If you are stopping by for ICLW, I have to admit up front I am regretting signing up this month. When I did, I thought my life would be in such a different place. I had no idea at that time how much my world was going to be turned on its head just days before this week was supposed to arrive.

I started this blog when I began going through problems I didn't want everyone in my real life knowing about, mainly post partum depression. This is actually my secondary and anonymous blog. In my main blog I am very open and honest about my struggles with infertility, but everyone in my real like has the link to it, and I didn't want them all to see what was really behind the ever-strong facade. I needed an outlet and a support group for my PPD, and I already knew how therapeutic blogging was in regard to getting out feelings and emotions, as well as getting support from women who have been or are where I am.

After years of infertility treatments and being put through the ringer, my husband and I finally conceived and had a beautiful baby girl a year ago. During our battle against infertility, I had undergone surgery to remove extensive endometriosis, had ovarian drilling performed, and had a septum removed from my uterus. The latter was a surprise from my doctor to my husband and I, as he didn't ask either of us if we wanted it done before diving in with his scalpel. His decision has now left us facing the reality that I may not be able to have more children, and if I do, I put my life at risk.

That procedure created scar tissue that my daughter implanted into during my pregnancy with her. Somewhere around the end of the second trimester I began to have regular contractions, but without the cramping. More than 10 in an hour, 24 hours a day. My current doctor attributed it to a cranky uterus. On the day of my c-section, we found that my daughter's placenta had been pushing its way through the uterine wall with each contraction and had poked a hole all of the way through the muscle to the outside of the uterus in what is known as a uterine rupture.

My doctor repaired the rupture, and we were forced to take a year of TTC while we hoped and prayed everything would heal well enough that we could attempt another pregnancy, all the while knowing another one would be considered high risk right out of the gate and knowing all of the potential risks and complications.

On Friday of last week I went to find how things had healed. I fully expected everything to be fine, and to be back at TTC. Instead I got the news that I may be done having children. The rupture did not heal correctly. We are currently exploring our options for continuing to build our family, the first of which is surgery to fix my uterus. However, our risks of another rupture during a pregnancy have gone up dramatically, leaving us wondering if we dare to try.

The past few days have been like a bad nightmare that I am still trying to sort my way through. I haven't been reading or commenting on the blogs I do follow because I just don't have the headspace to be the support and love I always try to be to my blogfriends. Right now I am trying to adjust to my new reality and only posting to help keep myself sane. I sincerely apologize if you are here for ICLW. Normally I am very excited for ICLW, and I look forward to finding new blogs where I can join in your journey and help uplift you, but right now I am trying to sort out the hand that God has dealt me.

I wish you all the best and hope you find many wonderful blogs to read and follow during this exciting week.

Much love,
Saige

P.S. Not sure who put my blogs into LFCA, but thanks to whomever did. Also, it took the cat out of the bag as to where my primary blog is located. lol! I am both Chelle and Saige. Just don't let my MIL know. :D

Strong Foundation

Before I went to my doctor appointment on Friday morning, I called my Shrink and made an appointment for Monday morning. I was starting to have a little PTSD from my last bout with infertility and knew I couldn't wait until our next appointment to talk. As I sat in my car sobbing after my sonogram, I was so glad I had made that appointment. Too bad the subject matter has changed so drastically.

Today I was amazed at how much better I felt about things. I didn't make it through the day without crying, but it was for completely different reasons. Reasons I will get into on another day. I know for a fact, had I not been on antidepressants, there is no way on God's green earth I could have gotten out of bed. Not only did I get out of bed, I was sane. My thought processes have been rational and down to earth. I know exactly where I would be without them, and I am so grateful they have given me such a strong foundation.

DH and I spent much of our time together today talking about our options. He doesn't usually have an opinion on any of this because he says it is my body. I think most of the time he just doesn't know what to say, or he does, but he doesn't want me to feel obligated in anyway. I asked him if he would be okay if all we ever had was our daughter. He told me that if she is all we get, then she is all we get. I then asked if he wanted more (because I am already starting to come to terms with the fact that I might not get what I want). When he told me he did want more, that put the fight back in me.

Yesterday and today I told DH that these things aren't supposed to happen to me, they are supposed to happen to other people. He told me sometimes I have to be the other people. I came to the realization that no matter how much I see my life the way I want it to be, there is reality, and sometimes reality is harsh. This isn't what I saw, and this isn't what I expected, but this is what's happening, and I have to pick myself up and move forward. I have to realize that what I wanted isn't going to be mine in the time frame I want it. I also have to realize that despite what I think, I am mortal. As much as I like to think a pregnancy couldn't kill me, I need to realize it really can.

A cousin of mine recently gave birth. After her son was born, she continued to bleed. The major veins that provide blood to the uterus would not shut off. She went into surgery and was given 9 units of blood. We only have 8 units in us. She ended up in ICU for days in a coma. During her surgery, she was intubated and the medication they were giving her made her feel like she was drowning, so she tried to pull out the tubes, damaging her vocal cords.

Do you think for one split second she ever thought that could or would happen to her? She went to the hospital to give birth to her son. I am sure what she envisioned for that day was not at all what she got.

I need to really think things through before I jump both feet first into a pregnancy that could kill me. I am not immortal, despite what I might think.

I don't know how I got here. I don't know why I am here. All I know is that I have to try. I have to do all I can so that I can look back and say I did because that is how I am. I have to find what little faith I have left after yesterday and nurture it. I can't give up. But my God, am I in for the battle of my life. I realize this, and I also realize that the outcome may not be what I want. I am just so glad that I have the foundation underneath me that I do right now because if I didn't, I wouldn't make it.

Swallowing a Bitter Pill

First of all, I want to say thank you so much to all of you for your very kind words during such a horrible moment in my life. The really do help buoy me up. I am still completely reeling from the news. I still can't get my head around it, and I still can't bring myself to accept it.

The worst part is knowing that I have to wake up in the morning and be reminded of the fact that today wasn't a nightmare. It wasn't a figment of my subconscious imagination manifesting itself in some horrible night vision.

As with all things, there has been some good to come from it. I am astounded at the support system I have in place. Last time I was going through this battle, I was alone. 100% completely alone. I didn't even have my blog back then. This time I have so many wonderful people in real life that have rallied around me and are willing to do anything to help me get through this. In addition to them, I have all of my blog friends who are here to help as well. The outpouring of love and support has been astounding.

My doctor called me back this afternoon at 3:30 on the nose. She told me she had consulted with the fertility doctor and they are ordering a sonohystogram for next Friday. They hope that it will show them just how thin the lining is and how big the gap between the walls of muscle are. If they don't get what they need from the sono, they are going to order up an MRI. The doctor felt that they could perform surgery to close the gap, they just need to know how bad things really are first.

Sounds like good news, right?

I asked what our chances would be if we did the surgery. My doctor told me they would increase dramatically, because as it stands right now, I absolutely, positively should not get pregnant. The baby WILL die, and I could die too. However, she said there is still a 40% chance of a rupture even after the surgery. I thanked her for giving me hope again, but she strongly advised me to talk to my husband about not trying again. How must she feel delivering news like that knowing that some patients will do it at all costs and that she feels a moral obligation to help them even when she doesn't agree with their choices?

DH thinks 40% is pretty shit. I don't think he is comfortable with it. In fact, I know he isn't. However, he is reserving feeling until we talk to the doctor who will perform the surgery and get his opinion on the matter. In the meantime, I am left to my thoughts. Weighing everything, trying to decide what to do. Do I take my chances, or do I face the fact that I may be done having children? I know I can be happy if all I ever have is my daughter, because at least I have her to show for my struggles. I just wish I could give her a sibling for so many reasons. But could she be happy if her mother died trying to give her that sibling? Could I?

I hate this place. I hate being here. I am feeling every negative emotion possible.

I told DH I wish I could point the finger of blame at someone, but I can't because all of the choices that got me to where I am today were mine, with the exception of the removal of the septum. Neither of us chose to have that removed. My doctor just did it. Had he asked me, I would have told him to take it out. Had he asked DH and informed him of the risks of doing so, DH would have told him "Hell no! You leave that damn thing in there!" My husband was seething about it tonight. He yelled about it for a good 15 minutes. That damn septum removal is the whole reason I am where I am. But I can't change it now.

The thing I hate most about being in this place is the unknown. Not knowing if there really is any hope, and if so, how much. I hate feeling forsaken by my instincts. I want to kick my own ass for being so stupid and naive. I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up! I knew it!

Luckily I have a bottle of Val.lium in my cupboard, and I took one to help me sleep tonight. It has just kicked in, which means my thoughts are fading just like I am. I can't wait for tomorrow morning when I get to relive the hell of today.

It is all for Naught

I went to my ultrasound this morning to check that everything from my rupture had healed well enough that I could start trying for another baby in the next couple of months. I feel so stupid now that on my drive in I was thinking the biggest of my worries was when to start using OPKs. I got the answer to that. Never.

I went into that appointment so hopeful, so sure that everything was going to be okay, that it was going to be a fantastic appointment, I would skip out of there with my prescription for prenatals. I watched as the tech found my scar tissue, and as she found a 5mm cyst on my right ovary (which explains all of the pains I've been having), and as she found my beautiful left ovary. I'll hand it to her, she is a professional. Her demeanor never changed. She asked me to wait while she asked my doctor if she wanted to come in and make sure there wasn't anything else we needed to look at. I sat there, praying everything was fine and preparing myself for good news.

My doctor came in and watched the screen. The tech moved the wand to my scar tissue and pointed at a black spot right next to it. I looked at her face and at my doctor's face, waiting for any indication of good or bad. I held my breath. I held out hope. "Everything is fine. Its perfect. Don't freak out."

Then came the bomb shell.

There is no muscle on my uterine wall next to the rupture. The wall right there is paper thin and my intestines could be viewed through it on the ultrasound. As it stands right now, I am no longer able to have any more children.

My world fell out from underneath me. I was not prepared for this. I never in a million years thought I would hear that today. I started to cry and ask if it could be fixed. My doctor isn't sure, so she is going to call a high risk OB and consult with their fertility specialist today and call me back. I have to say right now, my hopes are not high. I just sat there and cried. What did I do to deserve this? Haven't I been through enough? My doctor held me in a tight hug, told me she was sorry, and that she would see if there is anything we can do.

My doctor and the tech left the room so I could get dressed, and I cried so hard. I sobbed like my world had come to an end. I couldn't collect myself well enough to stop sobbing. The tech came back in a few minutes later and told me I could use the back entrance so I wouldn't have to walk through a waiting room full of preggies. She told me my doctor would do all she could, and she hoped for the best for us.

I did not expect this!

I walked as fast as I could out of the hospital and to my car, avoiding all eye contact and trying to keep my tears in check. As soon as I got to the car I sobbed from the very tips of my toes. My heart was breaking. I called Hubs and told him about the appointment. All I could do was cry from my very core.

I didn't want to be back here again, but here I am. This is so unfair. I have done everything I was supposed to do. I have been through enough. Why am I facing this?

I know I am very blessed because I at least have my daughter. I am so grateful for her, and I am still grateful for everything I had to go through to get her. I always will be. But right now, I feel so very broken again. I feel like I am worse off now than I was before as far as TTC is concerned.

Why did God let me feel like everything was going to be okay when it isn't? Why did He put such a strong desire to have more children in me when it isn't going to happen? Why did He let my "instincts" tell me that I would be able to start trying for another baby in a couple of months when I'm not? I don't understand. If this isn't going to happen, then He needs to take these feelings and desires away. For the last four years of my life, ALL I have focused on is building a family. That is all I have truly wanted. More than anything.

I want my daughter to have a sibling. I don't want her to be an only child. I want her to have a friend who is always there. Someone to grow up with, play with, get in trouble with, have secrets from mom and dad with. It is so lonely being an only child. I had siblings, and I want that for my daughter.

Please, if you leave a comment don't tell me to be glad I at least have my daughter. I AM glad. I am so blessed to have her. I know that so many of you are trying for your first and are struggling, but that does not make my pain feel any less great right now. The bottom of my world and all of my hope have been pulled out from underneath me. My day went from being exciting to wondering what the hell I am going to do now, to questioning myself, my hope, and my instincts. To realizing that even IF this can be fixed, I am at least another year away from trying, if not longer. My life plans have all gone out the window. Everything I have been hanging onto this last year was ripped from my grasp in a moment this morning.

I am dumped right back where I was three years ago, only worse in some ways. I have a bathroom cabinet stocked clear full of OPKs and pregnancy tests. All of them will have to be thrown away now. All of the pregnancy items I have waiting in my closet have to go away. My hopes and dreams have gone away.

Everything hangs in the balance on a phone call from my doctor. Will they be able to fix it? How long will recovery take? What will happen with my endo and PCOS while we wait? I'm getting older, I don't have much time left to continue building my family. How is all of this going to affect world again? This just plain is NOT fair.

I may be absent from blogging for a while. Right now, I feel like I need to be away from everything TTC-related. I just can't handle this. I can't handle the fact that I am where I am. I need to grieve and pick up the pieces of my shattered dream.

Standing On a Crumbling Cliff

I came to the realization today that I really do not have it all together when it comes to TTC again. Not only that, but I have it way less together than I thought I did.

Tonight I feel like I am standing on the edge of a crumbling cliff. For the first time in a long time, I am almost downright panic stricken at the thought of TTC. My first sign was this morning when I went to see my doctor to follow up on my antidepressants. I told him I have been extremely exhausted lately and can't sleep enough. I can take two 3 hour naps in one day and still fall asleep easily that night and sleep in the next day, only to repeat the process. He suggested that the exhaustion could be a side effect of the cit.alopram and maybe I should try backing off the dose. Even the thought of backing it off made me uncomfortable. Those silly little pills have made my life not only liveable, but they have made it awesome beyond words. As my husband says, they make me sane.

I told my dr I didn't want to do that. I then reminded him we were going to start TTC in the next couple of months, so we rediscussed our plan to wean me off over a two-week period as soon as I find out I'm pregnant. He told me I could wean off now and see how it goes, but I wasn't comfortable with that either. I feel like I need these babies to keep my world level. I told him as much, and he told me that was fine. We'll stick to the plan. He then said something that made my day, he told me that I am a good mama and that he hopes I get pregnant quickly because I deserve to have another baby. Wow! I really love this doctor. I was referred to him by my Shrink, by the way.

Okay, so going off the cit.alopram right now, not optional for me.

Then tonight when I got home from work I debated over whether or not I am going to do OPKs this month, or just leave it be. I just barely got my IUD out, so I can't expect much from this cycle. I am not sure if I will even ovulate or not, but my OB told me it is very possible to get pregnant right away, which she cautioned against until my lining builds back up. No problem, that was my plan anyway. But do I test to see if I even ovulate? THAT is the question.

I opened my bathroom cupboard tonight and came face to face with my bottle of OPKs. Despite my antidepressants, it send me into a bit of a panic.

Enter PTSD from IF.

Am I really ready for this? I mean, what if I never get a positive OPK? I know exactly where I'm headed if I don't. I don't know if I can do it again. Or can I? I mean, I've been there before. I know what to expect, and I've got resources, knowledge, friends, and professionals in my court that I didn't have before. But on the other hand, I know what to expect. The disappointing month after disappointing month. The toll it takes on my life, my relationships, my job. I now have a child to take into consideration too. How will my struggles affect her?

I think it is safe to say I am officially freaking out. The antidepressants help keep it in check for the most part, but my infertile brain is starting to race. It has been given the green light to do so for the first time in two years, and it is taking it and running with it. I wouldn't allow myself to cross this bridge before I got to it, and now I'm here, crossing it. I didn't remember it was quite this rickety. And honestly, this is only the first half of my battle. The other half will be the pregnancy itself.

Wow I am a mess. Welcome back Infertile Me. I didn't miss you these last two years. What do you say you cooperate with me this time around? I think I've been through enough already, don't you? And considering the battle ahead, I could use a break at the starting line. Sound good to you? It sure does to me.

Well, here we go friends. I'm back on the insane playing field of trying to beat my infertility again.

The Two-Headed Coin

I have not yet posted my infertility story on this blog. Perhaps I will at a later point in time. I can tell you, it was a crazy ride and one that I wish to never repeat. It lasted for almost two years and involved everything from Chl.omid to IUIs to extensive surgery that left me battered and torn, wondering if everything I had gone through was really going to be worth it. It tested my resolve and desire to be a mother. The bottom line was always that I wasn't going to give up. I had to be able to look back and say I tried it all, which was what kept me moving forward in the worst moments.

I remember a few weeks after my surgery I was so frustrated because it was taking me so long to get back on my feet. I curled up on my bed one night and just cried like the world was coming to an end. I honestly wondered if it was all going to be worth it. I was in so much pain, and my surgery had been so extensive I went from a few days to recover (the norm for a laparoscopy) to up to 6 months to recover. I couldn't even clean the kitchen without it ending in my needing to take a 2-hour nap afterward. DH did his best to soothe me by telling me that even if the surgery hadn't worked, we would make our lives happy no matter what.

Those were some very dark days, and by far, some of the worst of my life. They were days I never wished to repeat.

Now here I am, getting ready to jump back in the crazy battle against infertility while I TTC a sibling for my baby girl. Not only do I have endometriosis and PCOS against me, I now have age and a uterine rupture working against me. I am looking at a very high risk pregnancy if and when I do get pregnant again. But I can't bring myself to cross that bridge before I get to it.

I was and still am so excited to start trying for another baby. My last pregnancy and the past year have been so surreal and wonderful beyond words. I can't wait to do it all again.

But here's the rub. I feel like my TTC is like a two-headed coin. On one side I have everything beautiful and happy to look forward to, but at the same time, I have the mouth of hell gaping before me as well. I know what is at stake on both sides. Is it worth it to face the bad for the good? ABSOLUTELY YES.

I am so excited to start TTC that I almost feel like I can't wait another two cycles while my body re-regulates itself after 6 months with an IUD. I understand I need to wait for my lining to build back up, and that is ultimately what I will do, but at the same time, I want to get right back into that race NOW. However, when I think about starting TTC as soon as next month, I get cold feet a little bit. I am sure that reason is two-fold. The first being that I have been out of the TTC game for the last two years. Am I really ready to get back in that game yet? How much, if any, of my previous battle will I have to repeat? The second being the potential risks of a pregnancy.

I guess I have plenty to talk about at my next Shrink appointment huh?

What it all boils down to to me is to follow my gut instinct, which tells me to wait two months, and then to jump back in both feet first. I feel like the journey to #2 won't take long, and that the pregnancy will go as smoothly as my last. That is what my deep down gut instinct tells me. However, the anxious bitty inside me asks if I feel that way only because I am on antidepressants that make unicorns fart rainbows. Once I come off of those babies, will my gut instinct still feel the same?

These inner battles really suck. You know that?

I have to go with what my gut tells me now and not what my inner-anxious person tries to battle me with.

Just in case any of you thought I had it all together because of my positive posts and encouragement to you, this ought to be evidence enough that I am just as messed up as every other infertile. lol

My cold meds just kicked in, so I am out.

This Week's Session

This past week I had planned on going into my Shrink and talking to her about how I am afraid that my being back at TTC could hurt three of my close friends who are also currently trying for babies. Two of them are on the front lines in the battle, with one about to start IVF and the other going to see a specialist this week. I was afraid of getting pregnant again before either of them and that causing them undue pain. But at the same time, my window for having more than one child is very small. I might not be that old, but let's be honest, my body apparently was not meant to house pregnancies.

My next pregnancy is going to be very high risk. Part of me doesn't mind because it will mean lots of ultrasounds, but the logical part of me cares very much because there is a lot at risk and a lot on the line. But the bottom line is that I am willing to take the chance. Building my family is that important to me.

The day of my session, the Munchkin was home sick from daycare with a nasty ear infection and cold. I had called my shrink the week before and moved our session to this week because I was down with a nasty cold and could barely talk the week before. I couldn't move our session on short notice again, not that my shrink would have minded, but I didn't want her to think I was a flake. Instead, I took the Munchkin with me. She is, after all, part of the reason I go. ;)

My Shrink was overjoyed to have the Munchkin there with us. While I had wanted to talk about infertility-related topics, something else came up the day before that needed to be addressed more urgently. As we talked, the Munchkin played quietly around the room with the toys I had brought for her and my car keys. She barely made a fuss at all.

About 10 minutes into our session, my Shrink was beaming at the baby. She then told me how very well adjusted my child is. My daughter loves to smile at people. She is such a happy, sweet little girl. I get comments all of the time on how beautiful and sweet she is. She grabs attention everywhere we go. When I told my Shrink that, she told me that is because I got the help I needed. She could see that my being there and being on the antidepressants was helping my daughter feel secure in her world. She knows that Mama is always there for her, and the fact that she is so happy proves that we have a very tight and trusting bond.

My daughter and I are very close. That is exactly what I want and will always want. I am going to the Shrink and am on antidepressants for her above everything else. If she is going to learn what type of person she will become by watching me, it is so very important for me to take these steps to help her live a very happy, fulfilling life. I didn't go through hell and back to get her only to let her down by not being the mother she needs.

I will always do whatever I have to to ensure that I do what is right by her, no matter the cost to me. I feel that doing right by her also involves giving her siblings. I have three siblings and we are all very close, but I am especially close to my little brother. My Old Friend is an only child, and the difference between being an only child and having siblings is huge. I want my baby to have at least one sibling to grow up with, play with, get in trouble with, explore the world with. I have that, and I want it so badly for her.

The session went great, but my favorite part was my Shrink commenting on my daughter. Hearing those words from her made my day and reaffirmed that everything I'm doing really is benefiting my daughter.

For Pete's Sake

I got an email from my MIL the day before my birthday. In it she told me that she wished me a very happy birthday and hoped that my day was special. She told me she had had a song running through her head about me and attached it to her email. The song was, "You are al.ways on my mi.nd." I know the song well because there is a version by the Pe.t Sho.p Bo.ys that I listen to, so I didn't need to open the MP3 to hear the words.

Her email bothered me for so many reasons. The first one being that the last time we communicated (a week ago) we both decided we were done with this shit. And by this shit I mean our relationship. We bid each other a fond adieu, vowing to never speak again. I skipped happily away and sent off birthday announcements and letters about the Munchkin's first year of life to everyone in her family, except her. But that is what I had promised her. I told her if she couldn't straighten up then I was done with her and that included involving her in my daughter's life. She didn't seem to care, just like she didn't seem to care about how hurtful she was to me during my infertility treatments by telling me it was all my fault I couldn't get pregnant (yes, she really did).

At this point, I don't think her email was to me so much as it was her sad realization that she blew her relationship with me, and by default, with her granddaughter. She thought she had called my bluff about not sending her anymore pictures or correspondence regarding my daughter. Oops on her part. I think the shocking truth hit her when her ex-husband received a picture and letter, but she didn't. I was serious folks. Somehow she missed the memo.

I grew weary of our back and forth emails last week. The whole chain of them was tiresome and so filled with drama. It ended with my telling her I was sorry, but that I was done trying. I had had a belly full and was walking away.

Then comes her email this week.

I have thought so many times in the past year and a half that she was extending an olive branch only to have her turn around and bite me. In fact, at one point I asked her what she was doing because she was sending such crazy mixed signals. One second she was friendly and the next she was downright mean for no reason at all. So she will have to excuse me if I don't jump at this perceived olive branch. I have no idea what evil is attached to the other end, but every other branch that has been offered up had a bear trap attached. I just don't have it in me to accept it again. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I'm not ready to be the shamed party again.

I'm not sure where I am going with this post, but I felt like it needed to be written. If only for me to get my thoughts out in front of me where I can analyze them more clearly. I think the bottom line for me is I am tired of getting bitten by her. I meant it when I said I was done with her. I don't want back into this stupid game. I don't think I will reply to her email. I just don't have anything to say.

And yes, she does come up with my sessions with the Shrink. She and my Old Friend can live in the same dumpster together because I am done with both of them.

My New Favorite Song

Just in case you wanted to hear the song I talked about in my last post, here it is. Enjoy!

For My Birthday

Today is my 31st birthday, but instead of getting gifts, I would like to give a gift to all of you.

The other day I was driving into work after dropping the Munchkin off at daycare when a song by a band called Thr.iving I.vory came on the radio called "Ang.els On the Mo.on." Right from the beginning, the lyrics caught my attention. I feel like they go right along with the purpose behind this blog, so I wanted to share them with you all. If you get the chance, I recommend finding the song and listening to it.

Do you dream, that the world will know your name

So tell me your name

And do you care, about all the little things

or anything at all?

I wanna feel, all the chemicals inside,

I wanna feel

I wanna sunburn, just to know that I'm alive

To know I'm alive

Don't tell me if I'm dying,

cause I don't wanna know

If I can't see the sun,

maybe I should go

Don't wake me cause I'm dreaming,

of angels on the moon

Where everyone you know,

never leaves too soon

Do you believe,

in the day that you were born

Tell me do you believe

And do you know that every day's the first

Of the rest of your life

Don't tell me if I'm dying,

cause I don't wanna know

If I can't see the sun,

maybe I should go

Don't wake me cause I'm dreaming,

of angels on the moon

Where everyone you know,

never leaves too soon

This is to one last day in the shadows

And to know a brother's love

This is to New York City angels

And the rivers of our blood

This is to all of us,

to all of us

So don't tell me if I'm dying,

cause I don't wanna know

If I can't see the sun, maybe I should go

Don't wake me cause I'm dreaming,

of angels on the moon

Where everyone you know,

never leaves too soon

You can tell me all your thoughts,

about the stars that fill polluted skies

And show me where you run to,

when no one's left to take your side

But don't tell me where the road ends,

cause I just don't wanna know,

No I don't wanna know

Don't tell me if I'm dying

Don't tell me if I'm dying

That song really struck a chord with me because to me it is talking about living each moment to its fullest. "Every day is the first day of the rest of your life." I can't tell you how many times I have thought that over my 31 years. Each day in my life that was important, those words literally ran through my head.

• The morning I was driving into my first day at my first job out of college.
• The day I met my husband.
• The day I got married.
• The day we brought Red home.
• The day we moved to Texas so I could start a new job.
• The day we bought our house.
• The day we brought Sadie home.
• The day I found out I was pregnant.
• The day my daughter was born.

Every day is as important and special as we make it. Sure we all have days that are the usual bump and grind full of everything mundane, but it is what we do and look forward to in those days that make them special. I look forward to the little things every day, like going to lunch with a friend, picking the Munchkin up from daycare and seeing my husband after a long day at work, writing an exciting blog post, anything that makes it all worth living.

My gift to you is a wish that you will treat each day as if it is the first day of the rest of your life and find all of the little things that make your world go 'round.

Beautiful Blogger Award

I have been blessed with the Beautiful Blogger award from my dear friends Noelle and Fran. Thanks so much ladies. I am so glad that I am able to share in both of your journeys and provide you with the love, support, and encouragement you need. I wish Noelle the best with her pregnancy, and pray that Fran soon announces her BFP!


Here are the rules accompanying the nomination:

• Thank the person who nominated you and link to their blog.
• Copy the award and paste it to your blog.
• Tell us 7 interesting facts about yourself.

Seven interesting things you don't already know? Hmmm...

1. My husband promised to buy me laser hair removal for my upcoming birthday, and if he doesn't dish out, I will be seriously upset. The idea of never shaving my pits again sounds like heaven!
2. I have officially ended my relationship with my MIL. After a few more nasty emails we both decided the relationship was irreparable and went out separate ways. As a last, somewhat mean hurrah, I sent a picture of the Munchkin on her first birthday along with a letter talking about her first go around the calendar to everyone in her family but her... including her ex-husband whom she still sees on a regular basis. Mean, I know, but I don't appreciate what and how things went down between us.
3. I am a very easy-going, accepting person, but don't cross me. It takes a lot to get to the point where I retaliate. One area where it doesn't take much is when you hurt someone I care about. In high school there was a girl who was picking on a close friend of mine for no apparent reason other than to be rude. She didn't do anything to me, but she made my friend feel really bad. I only saw it once, but it never happened in front of me again because I told her her name meant "slut" in Australia. :D (That was my story for Noelle. [I'll got to battle for you too!])
4. I am officially back at TTC again. I got the green light from my doctor last week.
5. My next pregnancy will be considered extremely high risk, but it is something I have to do. I know I am in good, capable hands with my doctor, who has promised me she will be there with me every step of the way and will monitor my pregnancy very closely.
6. I love blogging because of all of the wonderful people I get to "meet." I love being able to be there for people and knowing I left comments that helped uplift and make them feel better. My goal is to be the best blog friend I can possibly be. My blog role is always accepting new friends.
7. My husband and I have been together for almost 6 years, and I am still every bit as attracted to him as I was the day I met him. It feels like no time has gone by, yet it has been 6 years.

I would pass this award along, but I think all of my blog friends have already had it, some of them multiple times. If you haven't gotten it yet, let me know and I'll update this post and pass it along to you!

My Phoenix, Part 3

This is the final installment of the session with my shrink that was written about in my two previous posts. If you missed them, feel free to read back over them before embarking on this one, but it is not necessary.

The last thing my shrink and I talked about that day was my battle with infertility. I told her that I was tired of everyone telling me that I needed to let go everything I had been through in the years leading up to my pregnancy. I had been through a lot, not as much as some, but enough. I had done years of treatments and undergone a pretty extensive surgery to finally achieve my dream of motherhood. The experience definitely left me battered and scarred, but I wasn't willing to forget it all happened, which is what everyone kept saying I needed to do. They told me I needed to move on. I told my shrink it made me angry when people said that. When she asked why, I told her it was because of that battle I appreciated the gift I had been given so much more than if I hadn't had to fight so hard for it.

While infertility was hard, and at times it did best me, the experience helped grow and form me into a better person. A more compassionate and appreciative person. Had I not had to go through all of that to get pregnant, I probably would have complained about my pregnancy. I probably would have taken it and my daughter for granted, if I ever got to be a mother. But because I had to fight for my right to motherhood, not one second of my pregnancy or motherhood has gone by where I don't appreciate the gift I have been given. To forget my battle means taking those things for granted, and I am not willing to do that.

That battle made me who I am today. It made me a better mother than I would have been. Additionally, it strengthened my marriage along with all of my other close relationships. I definitely learned who my friends were, and those who were not, were cast off along the way.

If I had to do it all again, I would just because of the appreciation it has given me, and because of the way it brought me closer to my husband, my parents, my siblings, and my true friends. Not only that, but it gave me the opportunity to honestly reach out to other women who were or are going through the same thing. I could tell them I knew where they were because I had been there. I could provide love, support, and a shoulder to cry on because I truly understand. I've been there. I know how hard it is. I know how cruel and unfair it all seems.

The bottom line to me is that I am a better mother. I have infinite amounts of patience for my daughter because in those moments when I begin to feel even the teeniest, tiniest bit frustrated with her, I remember how hard I fought to get her here, and my patience meter is refilled. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for her. I could not possibly love her more. I chalk some of that up to instinct and being a mother, but I chalk a lot of it up to my fight for her.

There was so much good that came out of my battle against infertility. How could I ever want to forget it or let it go? The only people who would say that to me are those who have no idea where I came from to get here, or who don't truly appreciate how much it has shaped me into who I am today. To forget it is to forget myself and my daughter.

My Phoenix, Part 2

This post is continued from the previous one, in which I talk about a session with my shrink where I realized I really am a positive person.

After talking about the end of an old friendship, we next talked about my last dog. I don't remember how she came up or why, but she did. I told my shrink about the day she died, and how heart wrenching it was. She wasn't even 4 years old, and her death was a complete shock brought on by a peach pit and a congenital defect. I had to put her down while she lay on the operating table under anesthesia less than a month after I married my sweetheart. It was a cruel, painful day.

I sat in an exam room by myself after I had kissed her goodbye for the last time and after she had taken her last breath. I sobbed so hard. I can't remember the last time my heart felt so broken. I couldn't believe how that day had gone and that my dog was dead. I couldn't believe I had lost the battle to keep her alive. I loved her so much.

While I waited for my husband and dad to join me, the vet tech brought in a book that went over my options for my dog's remains. I opted for cremation so I could keep her with me always. I was not in a permanent housing situation, so burial was not an option. I had to choose a box for them to put my dog's ashes into, and what I wanted written on it. As I was looking through the selection of boxes, I came across one that had the name, "Sadie" written on it. The first thought that went through my head was that it was what I would name my next dog. But then like most people in the world would, I told myself no, because then I would forever associate that name with that day and my loss.

I got another dog a few months later from the same mom-dog as the one who had died, but the name Sadie didn't fit. It wasn't right. I decided to hold the name until I found the dog it belonged to.

A couple of years later, I was ready to get a second dog. This time the name Sadie fit. But I kept asking myself if I was sure that was the name I wanted to use. I polled people in my life and asked what they thought. Every single one of them told me not to name her that for the same reason I wasn't sure I would do it on the day my dog died. But it felt right. To me, that name meant that my last dog lived on from the moment I saw the name in the book. It meant a little piece of her from that day was in my new living, breathing dog. So against what everyone said, I named my dog Sadie. I haven't regretted my choice to use that name. Not once, not ever. In fact, I paired the name with my old dog's name.

While that day was so heartbreaking and unbearable, I feel like something good came out of it.

When I told my shrink this story, she looked at me with amazement and said that she couldn't believe the level of positivity I had in the situation. She told me I was like a Phoenix rising from the ashes. Life had handed me something very hard to handle, and I turned it into something beautiful and meaningful. I loved hearing her say that.

Next up is my final installment of this session, and it proves to be the best.

My Phoenix, Part 1

My sweet blog friend Noelle asked me to rewrite my post about the session with my shrink in which I realized the Positivity in my Top 5 was true. How could I deny a request from such a dear friend? It does come with a caveat, however; Noelle, you will have to write a post for me in return. The details will be at the end of this post. ;)

During one of my favorite sessions with my shrink, I was trying to work through some issues I still had remaining with an old friend. Unlike most of our sessions, this one morphed through many phases of my life, all of which showed I truly am a positive person at heart, even when it doesn't feel like it.

The first thing we discussed that day was my demised relationship with an old friend of mine. We had been friends for 21 years, but the friendship was extremely toxic. The straw that finally broke the camel's back between us was my battle with infertility. Even though she had experienced infertility first hand, she could not handle the thought of my getting pregnant before her. No matter how much hell I went through. No matter how much money I flushed down the drain trying to be a mother. It was all a competition to her, and one that she had to beat me to the finish line with (in the end she didn't). Needless to say, the friendship ended very bitterly, and I spent the next two years trying to let all of it go.

As I talked through and tried to tackle my current issues in that session, my shrink asked if anything positive had come out of ending the relationship. I looked up at her, smiled, and told her, "Absolutely." I had learned to appreciate my new friends so much more. I learned how to become a better friend. Because that friendship ended, many sprung up in its place, and the new ones made the old one look shallow. There isn't a day or a moment that goes by that I don't thank God for my new friends and for the relationships we have. They are so much deeper, and so much more meaningful. Additionally, my love for them is reciprocated, which is something I never had with the old one.

I now have FOUR best friends, and each one of them knows exactly how I feel about them. They know about the old friend and how it all ended. I tell them all of the time how much I appreciate them and the friendships we have. They all care as much about me as I do them, and they tell me as often as I tell them. I never had that with my old friend. We may have been "friends" for a long time, but we were never friends. Not really. Not like we should have been.

There is no question in my mind that even though I don't like how it ended, it had to be done so that we could both move on to bigger and better friendships.

To prevent this post from being a mile long, I will split this session up into three posts, since there were three major aspects of the appointment. Stay tuned for installment #2!

But before I sign off, I want to ask Noelle to please write a blog post about where she sees her life a year from now. I want you to truly think about it, and go deep down to what your heart tells you it sees. You don't have to write it if you don't want to. You can even send me a comment if you would prefer, or ignore the request all together. My intention here is to get you to see your life as you want it to be. Loads of love sweetie! I am thinking of you constantly!