All I Want For Christmas....

All I want is a baby bump filled with a child who will be born healthy, but Santa doesn't always bring you what you want.  So here's a more realistic list:

1. More quality time with my husband

2. Health

3. Diamond Studs

4. Fun, sparkly shoes

Don't hate on my Christmas tree.  I think it's cute:-)

Every year as Christmas gets closer, I become a bit of Grinch.  Why, you ask?  It's not because of infertility.  It's because my family is so far away.  I have my hubby and his father, but not MY MOTHER AND FATHER.  My mom is too darn stubborn to come visit when my father-in-law is in town.  She says he only visits once a year and should have it to himself.  She doesn't realize that other folks aren't as selfish as she is and he doesn't mind.  He just wants everybody to be happy.  I could travel home, but that would mean celebrating Christmas without my husband, who has to work during the holiday.

Anyways, I told my Auntie, who is my Godmother and spiritual twin, that I was trying not to be a Grinch and she hit me with this:

"Concentrate on what you have, not on what you don't.  Be prayerful and enjoy the holiday."

Bam!  In a very simple and sweet way she put me in my place.  She has always had that power.  She's so intelligent and level-headed.  Love her!

P.S. I tried Mucinex this month.  The generic is 15 bucks a box.  Wowsa!  I dumped my expensive fertility monitor months ago.  I didn't use my OPKs  because I kept forgetting in the morning, but the past couple of months my cycle seemed to match the fertility friend estimate of ovulation.  We shall see... fingers crossed... but not really.

An Unbelieveable Choice

I was reduced to tears on my way to work today.  I listened as a mother made a public plea for a hospital to give her one-year-old son a chance.

http://www.ktvu.com/news/news/crime-law/parents-1yo-shooting-victim-say-doctors-want-cut-h/nFwy7/

http://www.ktvu.com/videos/news/oakland-mass-shooting-videos/lkj/

His name is Hiram and he was shot in the head, while his father held him in his arms.  Baby Hiram is the victim of senseless violence.  He's been on life support for a week and doctors are ready to perform tests to determine if he is brain dead.  BRAIN DEAD?! A one-year-old could possibly be brain dead.

I spend most of my time on this blog complaining and whining, but this right here?!  This is real.   Baby Hiram and his mother are in a horrible fight. I often think most people never acknowledge or understand my gut-wrenching pain over infertility, BUT I know this woman's pain is something greater than anything I've every felt before in my life.

As I listened to her say that her baby just needs more time to recover from the shock of this horrible string of events, my eyes watered up.  It pisses me off so bad.  How could this happen to an angel who hasn't even had a chance to experience life?  His second birthday is three days after Christmas.  It's just too much to handle.

I found myself gripping my steering wheel and asking God to protect that baby.  To be honest, I don't know if protection is keeping him here or allowing him to go to Heaven.  It's just horrible. 

Baby Hiram is the face of senseless violence now, but eventually people will forget about him, just like all of the other babies who were hit by bullets that were supposedly aimed at someone else.

On top of that, he's also a reminder of the state of our health care system.  No one has said it yet, but I'm pretty sure his family doesn't have insurance for him.  If they do, it's not that good, otherwise his mother wouldn't be begging doctors to give him more time.  Let's be honest, money is time.  This entire situation just makes me sick.

The idiots who shot him probably don't even have a conscious or a heart... it's just.. it's just too much.  We are all taught that eventually everyone has to pay for their evil, but it's stories like this one that make me question that belief.

Either way, my prayers continue for Baby Hiram.  He didn't deserve this.  No baby does.

***Update***   Hiram's family took him off life support at the end of the week.  Two medical tests deemed the baby brain dead. He didn't make it to his second birthday.  Police still have not technically arrested anyone for the crime, although they have persons of interest in custody.

I think I'm Ready

I think I may be ready to take the next step in this fertility journey (I chose to say FERTILITY, instead of INFERTILITY because it's more positive).

Sunset in South Florida

For me that means going to another specialist.  Let me explain why.  My husband and I moved across the country right after I had the surgery to remove my fibroids.  As you can imagine, that shook up things.  It took me so long to find the awesome doctors who led me to that surgery that I really didn't have the time or energy to begin that search again... so soon after our move.

I obviously hoped and prayed that I would get pregnant and wouldn't have to seek any additional help, but that is not the case.  Now that we've settled into a spot and I've found a job, I can begin the big task of searching for some folks who can honestly help me out.  The fertility business is such a big money maker that it's really hard for me to trust some doctors.  If you read any of my earlier post, you will see that I had one doctor who just wanted to keep running tests and charging me without giving me any real answers.  The answer was pretty clear, I had fibroids that were disfiguring my uterus and causing me terrible pain and bloating.

Even though removing the fibroids didn't result in pregnancy, it did return my body back to the way it was about four years ago.  That means my period flow is normal, my terrible cramps are two days max and I don't have the unbelievable bloating and pressure that caused me to pop Advil up until the sixth day of my cycle.

When I get frustrated, I tell myself that maybe it's a waste of time to focus on this... that maybe God just doesn't want me to be a mother.  But for some reason, I can't shake the vision of a pregnant me and having a child.  That may be my stubborn persistence or a sign.  At this moment, I'll take it as a sign.

Of course I can't begin my research right in the middle of the holiday rush, but I will do it in earnest when it's over. It will take me some time because of skepticism when it comes to doctors, but because of where I live now, there should be some good options for me to try.

Congrats to all my pregnant friends, family and strangers out there.  But I can't promise that I won't go into a tail spin of depression every time you guys tell me about your awesome pregnancy and excitement.  I'm human and being infertile ain't easy.

What is the Deal?

 Sometimes I just have to ask: What's the deal, man?

What's the deal with Roxie's mustache?

Q: What is the deal with people telling me FIRST (before everyone else) that they are pregnant?
    
A:  I must do one heck of a job pretending that I'm not crying inside when folks announce their pregnancies.
    
Epiphany: Maybe I should be an actress. I'm obviously qualified for an Oscar nomination



Q:  What is the deal with my imagination? Why can't I shake the image of a pregnant me and a family that includes me, hubby and non-existent child?
 
A:  I guess I just haven't reached that magic place yet.
  
      
Epiphany:  Maybe I just have a kick-ass imagination?



Q: What's the deal with designers charging too much for their awesome purses?  How am I supposed to afford them?
    
 A: They must not want me to have them.
   
Epiphany: Maybe I should work harder to get EVERYTHING I want.  Money can't buy love or happiness, but it can definitely keep you busy.
 

Why Are Folks Mad At The Duggars?

So the Duggars announced they are expecting their 20th child and folks got down right offended and upset.

I am not the biggest fan of the Duggars and their reality show, but I do admire what appears to be their strong sense of family.  I watched their first little reality special back when they had like 15 kids or something like that.  This family has no debt, they don't live beyond their means, they teach their children values and they don't ask for handouts.

I do question if it is healthy for her to have so many children, but it must be because at the moment, she is still alive.  I bet some people thought that since I am of the infertile kind, I would be mad at this family's many blessings, but I'm not.  I'm happy for them.  It's awesome to see someone getting what they want.  They want all of their children, they want their family and they can support them.  So... why are folks so mad at the Duggars? *shoulder shrug*

Oh... and I should add that if I could have 20 kids, I would (and no, I can't afford 20, but I'd take the blessings and make do!)

Just Wondering

Infertility is not like failing a class or trying to win a football game.  Sometimes your body won't do want your heart, mind, money and doctor are trying to persuade it to do.  People who have never been through it, don't realize that apart from the expensive cost of trying to get pregnant, you are putting your own health at risk.

Someone I love very dearly tried to dish a dose of tough love to me over this issue.  She didn't realize how much she hurt me and when I tried to explain, she told me I needed to see a psychiatrist.  I can't begin to describe how much I cried over the fact that the one person in the world who I thought would always be compassionate towards me, pulled that little card out of the box.

There is nothing wrong with seeing a psychiatrist.  However, it all started with talk of adoption.  This person slammed adoption saying people she knew ended up with sick kids, who drained them financially. I tried to explain that it's mean to slam the only option that may be available to me at some point.  From there, the conversation all spiraled out of control and landed on the "psychiatrist box."

I don't need to see a psychiatrist over my infertility. I won't let anyone try to tell me that something is wrong with me for being sad over it.  Hell, people cry over not being able to get the car they want.   I think that's a little more ridiculous than crying when your dream of a child is crushed.

That conversation made me realize that maybe I need to see a psychiatrist over my relationship with her.  She's my mother and I can't live without her, but for the first time in my life, I don't know how to deal with her.  The conversation hurt me that badly.  I talk to my mother every single day (no it's not always about infertility and babies) and at this moment, I don't know how to talk to her.

I'm just wondering if the wound is still too fresh or if it will only get worse?

Disney is the place where dreams and wishes come true. I wish that conversation hadn't happened.

Time To Look Up

Soooo... another month has passed WITHOUT me getting pregnant.  I have given myself plenty of time to be pissed, sad and depressed. While I am not completely out of the cycle of despair at the moment, I must begin looking up... again.

Right now, the only thing making me smile when I'm away from my hubby, is chocolate.  So have a good look at the huge chocolate bar that I INHALED.  I hope it makes you smile or inspires you to find something to smile about too:-)

Good Ol' Cry

I had myself a nice cry today.  My period is due in two days and I KNOW it is coming, but I still couldn't fight the urge to take a pregnancy test today.  As usual, it delivered a swift "not pregnant" and I produced a steady flow of tears.

*sigh* I know it was dumb to take the test, but I was hoping for a pleasant surprise.  Every person on Facebook seems to be pregnant, my co-worker is getting more pregnant by the day... and... I... just don't have the words for the sadness I feel.

My mother visited this weekend and reminded me of ALL the blessings in my life.  She told me not to rush God or get angry with him because I don't have a baby yet. I understood her message, but I'm human. It hurts not to get what you want when you want it, especially when you've been wanting it for what feels like your entire life.

With each passing month and each Aunt Flo, it becomes more clear that my surgery was not the miracle I'd hoped for. I'll have to do some more work or I may have to accept that fact that I'll never have children of my own. Do you know how heartbreaking that is? Do you know how much that hurts?

Oh well... onward and upward. I can't let this kill me because it has already broken me. 

Since I've probably depressed the heck out of you, I figured I'd leave you with a beautiful flower.  It certainly made me smile. I hope it does the same for you as well.

The hubby gave me white roses just because:-)

More Crazy Hope

Each month I latch onto something ridiculous in hopes that it is a sign that I am pregnant.  So get ready because I have a good one for you this time-- It's my dog.  

I was napping on Football Sunday, when I suddenly felt some swift movement.  It was my girl Missy hopping on the bed.  My husband and I were stunned because home girl is not allowed on the bed... anymore.


My husband kept insisting she was worried about me and checking on me. I thought he was nuts.  I figured my girl clearly wanted to feel the comfort of a mattress under her four paws one more time, but then something strange happened.  She got comfortable next to me and let me rub her hair.  Missy is protective, but affectionate is a not an adjective anyone would use to describe her.  When I got up to go to the bathroom, she hopped off the bed and followed me.  She stayed close to me for a good five minutes.  It was pretty obvious that she WAS worried about me.

My husband said she probably thought I was sleeping a bit TOO HARD for a Sunday afternoon (and she may have been right because I did not sleep well that night). BUT YOU KNOW ME!  My mind began spinning.  I just knew she sensed something that nothing else in the world could. I mean the dog is nice to me whenever Aunt Flo rolls around, but who isn't? I'm a demon when the cycle makes the monthly visit.

Just as I was getting cozy at the thought that I might be pregnant and my dog knows it, she dissed me. Yup, the next morning I bent down for a smooch and a pat and she did the normal... turned her head. Soooo that killed that little moment.

So... here's to hoping I'm pregnant.  Eh.

Let's Get To Work

If you live in Florida, you will remember that phrase because it was Governor Rick Scott's slogan for election.  I'm not a fan of his, but I love that phrase.  So with that, duh da duh...

I purchased my expensive-a** ovulation tests and I'm ready to get busy:-)  I need to hop to it and purchase some web cheapies because these things set me back 20 bucks.

So, I hope we are lucky before year ends.  I'm really ready to be pregnant and have a healthy baby.  Until then, I'll continue logging my list of all the things I want for my future pregnant body and my future baby.

Dang it!

Dang It!  I failed to fire up the fertility monitor at the start of my cycle.  Now I have to go out and buy some ovulation predictor kits.  Plus, I need to get something cute.  No performance anxiety this time around.  I'm ready to have some baby-making-fun.

Also, I'm starting to save for Invitro.  I think I am supposed to have twins and since it probably wouldn't happen naturally, I need to go pay for them.  Ha!  You see, people?  This is how I entertain myself.

But seriously, I am starting to save and I will be making a trip to a new Gynie before year's end.  At this moment, I am at peace. I hope it carries on.  I hope it's just not a reaction to Aunt Flo finally leaving for the month:-)

I leave you with a pic of my "special" child: Roxie.  If you look closely, you'll see my big girl in the back-- love her!

Happy Birthday!

Well, I am just days from my 31st birthday.  I am so thankful that I've survived this long on Earth, but... there's always a but... I'm still not pregnant. I still have no children and I'm starting to think I may not ever have one.

Another friend just had her first child and I still have... two dogs.  This really sucks.  My mom was a young mom and I always made fun of the kids with old looking parents.  If I ever have a kid, I will BE one of those old looking parents.  How sad, right?

I asked the hubby if I could get a third dog so I'd feel like I have a new baby, but he said no (ha!).  It's okay though.  I'll celebrate the positives of not having children on my 31st birthday.

1. I don't have to hire a babysitter
2. I can have a nasty hangover and not have to worry about taking care of a young child
3. The husband and I can walk around naked all day long, without setting a bad example for a child:-)

I may not have everything I thought I'd have by age 31, but if the Lord allows me to make it to my big day.  I'm going to doll myself up and enjoy it.  I AM HAPPY TO BE ALIVE.

Cheers to life:-)

The Irrational

"Can heartburn, two weeks before your period, be a sign of pregnancy?"

Yup! I googled that. I'm not proud of it, but I did it.  I know that once again, there is no chance of pregnancy because I missed the window. BUT I just can't help myself.  Sometimes you just have to admit you're irrational and get a good laugh out of it. Laughter is always better than tears:-) A big, pretty margarita would be even better. Ha!

Here's to another two week wait. I guess it's technically one week for me, at this point:-)

Pick-Me-Up Needed

Bleh!  Two more of my friends/acquaintances have delivered healthy baby girls in the past two months.  I'm trying to keep my promise to celebrate people's joy and not turn it into my personal pity party. BUT IT IS SO DANG HARD.

I wish Baby Center would talk about that. Ugh!  This country pretends that it is changing when it comes to infertility, but it's not.  If your baby talk isn't about dust, angels and a positive pregnancy test, no one wants to talk to you. So, you keep all of your fears, frustrations and failures inside and become ridiculously depressed.  I guess that's why I'm so glad that blogger has provided a space where I can at least have an outlet. But if I'm too negative, no one will want to read it.

So! Here are the things for which I AM thankful:

1. Life
2. Family (especially my hubby)
3. Employment
4. My dogs (Missy & Roxie)

With that said, I will leave you with a picture of Roxie, my 'special' four-legged child:-)

Yup! She's sun bathing... upside down:-)

This strange little dog always makes me smile.

Performance Anxiety

I have always had performance anxiety.  Whenever someone expects something great from me, I just can't meet the expectation.  I guess I have this underdog mentality. If you say I can't do it, then dang it, I want to do it better than anyone else can.

Soo... with that said, here's my issue. I want a baby sooo badly, but I have a real and sincere issue with baby making time.  Because I'm expected to be in the mood, I can't get in the mood. It takes the fun out of it and I have to be honest: a lot of the time we miss the actual "special" time because, for lack of a better term, I can't get IT (my libido) up.

I've spoken with my husband about this. He tries his hardest to talk some sense into me, but I just... can't.  I'm pretty much like this about every part of my life. BUT now I am starting to annoy myself. How can I get my angel child, if I can't do this simple thing. Why is it easier for a crackhead to have a child than me? Ugh! Why is this so hard?!

Now that I've delved into the personal and probably grossed someone out, let's think of something pretty and simple, like grapes:-) 

Fertility Monitor Fail!

Soooo.... my $200 piece of electronic snake oil has failed.  That's right my clear blue easy fertility monitor is already jacked up.

It is stuck on day 8, so that means it ain't monitoring a dang thing.  I don't know what I did with the booklet of directions, but I'm on the hunt for it.  I plan to call the 1-800-number and get some info.  It's not fair to be infertile AND have a broken fertility monitor, is it?

Well, I'm off to indulge in something that never lets me down: a soy pumpkin spice latte.

P.S.  I guess the hubby and I will just have to "go at it like rabbits" and hope for a miracle.

Things that make you go hmmm...

Sooo...a new study came out showing a bit of a benefit for husbands of infertile women such as myself.  It turns out they have higher testoterone levels than men with children.

This is the image I got when I googled testosterone. I'm assuming it's the molecular makeup?

Some folks say it makes sense because lower testoterone levels allow good fathers to be more loving toward their children.  It made me think: is my man less loving? hmmm....

I'm just kidding.  I have to find something to laugh about because once again I wasn't lucky enough to make a baby this time around.  Although I knew my chances were slim due to a very busy month, it still hurt a little. BUT.. and it's a big BUT... I was proud that I only pouted half a day and moved on.

Here's my plan:

Try, try and try some more.

Waiting and Drinking

While I'm waiting on my angel to make his/her way to me, I'm enjoying life and my awesome friends.

My bestie and her honey came to visit me and my husband for Labor Day weekend.  We took it upon ourselves to explore the wonders of Napa!! I am not a wine drinker, in fact I used to think wine was a bit unfair. I felt the first sip tasted like grape juice. Then I would swallow and ugh! There was a terrible aftertaste.

Well, let me tell you: after this Napa trip, my outlook has changed. We hit up two wineries: Mondavi and Castillo di Amoroso. They were perfect for someone trying to "fake it to make it" in the social world of wine. I tried whites, Cabs and Merlots. I was able to swallow them all without major complaints. We even paired a couple with chocolate (yum!).

In between sips of wine, we laughed, talked and just enjoyed each others company. I definitely didn't leave Napa ready to write the sequel to Sideways, but I did leave with a new appreciation for the process: the growing, the fermenting, the waiting and the pouring.

In the end, I turned out to be a moscatto girl (so did my bestie's boyfriend--ha!). I liked the sugary taste. My husband and bestie liked what I call the mature wines-- the Cabs and such.

It was definitely tons of fun:-)

Beyonce's Belly!

Thanks, Beyonce.  I'm glad to know you get everything: talent, fame, success and a baby!  I'm totally jealous and I want a Beyonce Belly!




A few weeks ago, Beyonce's baby news would have sent me spiraling into tears and depression, but not now.  At this moment, I am hoping and praying that I will experience the same joy she feels.  Every time I look at the picture above, I am amazed at the sheer happiness on her face. It is beautiful and I can't wait for my time.

Today, a friend of mine posted something interesting on Facebook.  She's engaged and went to her first pre-marriage counseling session.  The preacher basically told her to thank God, before she actually gets whatever blessing she desires.  As I sat in my chair staring at the post, I started thanking him for my future child.  I don't know when my baby will arrive or how, but I am already thankful for her or him.

Now...on a side note: I forgot to pack my fertility monitor when I went out of town.  I hope I didn't mess up the thing.  I need that $200 piece of electronic snake oil to at least appear to be giving me useful information.

Interruptions

So I've been so excited about my trip to Vegas and my new job that I didn't take the time to consider how jacked up this cycle is about to get.

My next two weeks will be very busy and I won't be with my husband for a couple of days.  I have a sneaking suspicion that those days will be my fertile days. Grrr!  The old fertility monitor says I'm on cycle day eleven and my hormone levels are still low *shaking head in disgust*!

I am so happy that I have something to do besides obsess over creating my baby angel, but I hate wasting precious months.  I mean... when it gets down to it, we only have 12 opportunities a year to get it done.  Time is not on my side.

Oh well, I will concentrate on the positive. 

So here's the list.

1. I get to take my fertility monitor on a trip.  I'll get to see how "she" handles airport security and a visit with my mother.

2.  The two week wait shouldn't be much of a problem because you can't be pregnant, if you don't hit the sweet spot (if you know what I mean).

3. I'm going to have some fun (just not at the critical baby-making time).

Yippee!!

Las Vegas was great!

I drank A LOT of frozen margaritas and I got to spend some quality time with my husband.


The best part of it all is when I came home, I was offered a full-time position at my job.  It really is great.  I have lots to smile about right now.  Of course, having a baby is never really far from my mind, but at this point it is really great to say I have other things to occupy my time.

1. my job
2. my hair (did you see that picture?  my 'do is definitely a work in progress)
3. my doggies

You're probably wondering where my husband is on that list.  Well, don't worry.  He is omnipresent in my mind and heart, just like the man upstairs.  I truly can't say how grateful I am for the place I'm in right now. I'm hoping to accomplish big things, while still trying to make a baby.  I just can't let the best parts of life pass me by:-)

'It Feels Good'

Sooooo.... I didn't get pregnant this time around, but I got a different sort of blessing in the form of a great opportunity.  Now, I have to find a way to focus and figure what the best option is for me. AANNNDDDD... let's not forget: VEGAS IS JUST DAYS AWAY.

I think I'll use this space to add a little spice and happiness to my blog.

Life is feeling pretty good right now.  I hope I can say the same thing tomorrow:-)

Nope!

Well, just like that *snap*... the two week wait is over.  I'm not even sure it was a full two weeks.  I think it was a few days short.  There was no suspense at all.  Aunt Flo is here two days early.  She didn't come in with much of a bang. It was kind of like a quiver.  BUT I know the cramps will get worse as the day progresses and my heart will ache as well.

Since I am trying to be optimistic about this losing battle I take on every single month, I will say two positive things.

1.  At least I get to drink A LOT during my trip to Vegas.



2.  I get to spend more quality time with my nearly $200 piece of electronic snake oil, also known as my fertility monitor.  I mean heck...just because I paid a lot for it doesn't mean it should help me get a miracle on the first try, right?

Whatever!  Here's to hoping the rest of this day doesn't suck.  Advil, here I come!

Vegas, Baby!

I'm a week away from the predicted start of my period... and going to Las Vegas!

As you can imagine, this is a crazy scenario.  If I'm pregnant, I'll be BEYOND happy.  If I'm not pregnant, I can drink like a mad woman in Sin City.  Fantastic, right?  This trip to Vegas was totally a spontaneous booking and I couldn't have planned things any better.

This is the month that I decided to take back my sanity and not allow another BFN to send me spiraling into depression.  This is CRAZY.  I'm in a win-win situation this month.  I hope it sets the standard for things to come.  I like Winning :-)

Whooaaa, Baby (TV Time)!

I love television.  I just do.  There are some shows that I can't stop watching, even though they break my little infertile heart.  I've decided to give a list of shows that this baby-yearning-woman can't stop watching.  Some are good and some just make me angry (with God...I mean let's be honest here).

Oh Yeah, you knew they were coming!

16 and Pregnant/Teen Mom!

The producers of these shows say their main goal is to remind teens that sex can equal an unplanned pregnancy.  Let me tell you what the show really does. It makes teens and adults gasp and laugh alike, but I doubt it does anything to prevent teen pregnancy.  HOWEVER, it does piss me off.  I think to myself, "you're married, educated and MATURE! Why does God give this ridiculous child a baby and not me? Why is it not my time?"

Of course there is no answer to my question.  Once I get over myself, I become thoroughly entertained by the show.  I mean really...it's unbelievable that these people are putting their train wreck lives on air like that.  It's also pretty sad when you think about it.

Next up is....

I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant

First things first.  I will always love this show because one of my high school classmates played one of the women in a reenactment.

Buuuut let's get on with this.  This show gives this desperately-trying-to-conceive woman unrealistic hope.  I know it shouldn't, but it does. The women on this show are ridiculously lucky in my eyes.  Each time I see a story where a woman takes a pregnancy test, gets a negative and miraculously gives birth to a surprise baby three months later, I think maybe my last pregnancy test and period were wrong---NOT!

Then there's Rosie Pope' show, Pregnant in Heels

The first time I watched this show, it pissed me off.  There were whinny women who hired Mrs. Pope to help them "prepare" for the baby.  It wasn't preparation in the way a woman like me would need.  I might want some company shopping because my family lives clear across the country from me.  I'd also need some info on diapers, the best products and ideas for day care.

These women needed those things, but they were rich and some seemed like the baby was an imposition and not a blessing.  Of course, after Rosie gets in there, they change their tune.

All in all, I like this show.  Once I realized I was just jealous of those women, I was able to enjoy it.  I try my best to learn little lessons so that if I'm ever blessed with an angel, I'll have some ideas of how to get things started as a parent.

I can't end this post without mentioning shows I used to watch on Discovery Health Channel-- 'Birth Day' and all the other shows that centered around pregnancy and giving birth.  I really miss those shows.

I think the only person that reads my blog is my husband, but if you happen to NOT be him.  Maybe you can tell me some of your favorite "baby" shows.

Passing the Time...(also known as the two week wait!)

Oh man!  I promised I wouldn't go through another two week wait (tww) thinking about THE TWO WEEK WAIT.  But I can't help it.  The thrill of thinking I could be pregnant totally outweighs what I know will be the outcome--depression.

I've done everything to try to keep my mind off of it. Keep in mind, I'm only two days into it.  I've tried to drown my mind in researching new, organic products for my hair. I have taken dozens of pictures of my cute doggie, Roxie.

But nothing is working.  That crazy fertiity monitor makes me think there's a real chance this time around, even though every month I think there's a real chance.  Oh well.  I'm going to keep hoping and praying.  BUT...I am going to make a real effort this time around not to become so bumbed IF my baby doesn't pick this month to begin his/her journey to life.

I just want to be happy... and cute....

like Roxie! 

A Flare For The Dramatics

Yes! Yes, I have a flare for the dramatics.  I like things to go my way and as you can see, my attempts to get pregnant haven't gone my way.  Hence, my previous post of degradation and despair.  BUT.. the best part of about being me, is that I bounce back.  Sometimes it's not a full bounce, but a bounce nontheless.

Anyways, I have decided to bond with my nearly $200 fertility montior.

 I figured we better do something because that's a lot of money to waste for a girl who has a temporary part-time job at the moment.  So, if you don't know what a fertility monitor is, I'm sorry because I don't either.

Just kidding.

It's a white plastic looking thing that could be mistaken for a knock-off Nintendo game boy (do they still make those?)  I'm pretty sure it's a waste of money that plays on the emotions of the infertile, but that's not what it claims.  It claims to be a step above ovulation prediction sticks.  It tracks your estrogen and luneinizing hormones to predict five fertile days.  The ovulation sticks only track the luteininzing hormone and predict two highly fertile days at best.

The first month with the fertility monitor is what I like to call an investment month.   You're getting to know the machine and it's getting to know you.  You set it on the first day of your period.  It's all pretty complicated, but simple because you have to set it for the time you would wake up and take your first pee each morning.

On the sixth day of my cycle, it instructed me to start peeing on these expensive and specialized sticks that clear blue easy sells. 

So, I'll pee on those sticks and stick them in the machine for the next ten days.  The machine is tracking my hormone levels and I'm hoping it will eventually predict the prime time for baby making. Lord knows, I haven't found it in the past five years.

So here's to hoping the fertility monitor isn't just $200 worth of electronic snake oil.

I plan to use this thing for the next six months.  If my baby doesn't drop in by then, I'll be going back to a fertility doctor.  I can't go to my old one because I live clear across the country from her now.  I'm just really hoping my robotic myomectomy will give me a real chance at conceiving.  Sadly, I don't think it is at the moment.  It's been five months since my surgery and two months since we could officially begin trying.  I'm still not pregnant, but now that I crunch the numbers, it really doesn't seem that bad.

I'm Done

I've decided that I'm done for a while.  I'm done trying, thinking and obsessing.  I have had a series of ugly setbacks and while I've had setbacks before, I've never dealt with so many at once.  I'm in a new place, I miss my family, I miss my old job and I miss my friends.

I think my hair is falling out around the edges and at any given moment, I'm on the verge of tears.  Even though I just spent $170 on a new fertility monitor and the sticks that go along with it, I've decided that accepting defeat is a lot easier than trying hard at everything and coming up empty.

Patience has never been my strong suit.  I pray for it every day and every night, I pray for the things I want most in life.  I could take the easy way out and say that God just isn't answering my prayers right now, but I know that's not it.  I know in some strange way this is just another lesson about patience.  I figure the best way to have it, is to simply give up on all that I want.  It doesn't mean I won't always give 110% on my day-to-day activities.  I don't know how to do anything else (I blame my upbringing for that). BUT maybe if I find a way to just totally quit and let go, I will begin to find true happiness regardless of if I get the things that I want.

I have to learn to make do with what I have and the blessings I've already received.  It just seems that it's a bit harder for me to really do that.  Repeated failure is truly my lifes biggest heartbreak.

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Still Living & Learning

I waited all of this time to get my chance to ttc (trying to conceive) again.  I've tossed and turned and even panicked over it. Well...it looks like ttcing will be delayed!  The hubby is sick just in time for my fertile period:-(

The poor thing has a cough, a fever and generally feels like crap. Instead of me saying get better, I said, "oh no! No baby making for me." Being the sweetheart that he is, he tried to assure me that he would heal himself enough to give it a shot. 

It's so funny how the Lord works. After a feeling of confusion and desperation, I decided to find the lesson in this. I truly believe it is God's way of telling me to calm down and take it easy, which is funny because that's what my mom has been telling me to do. 

Sometimes it feels like I don't have time for patience. I want to get pregnant so badly. I want a baby so badly and I don't want to give my fibroids a chance to grow back. I mean...I pray every night for a healthy, fibroid-free uterus with unclogged Fallopian tubes and egg-gushing ovaries.  

BUT I need to focus on who I do have and He is my fantastic husband. Unfortunately, a couple of days ago, I only viewed him as sperm. Lol! Before my revelation, I was ready to write a blog bashing my mom and babycenter.com. Both told me in some way to stop obsessing over getting pregnant.  I was furious and tired of people and websites making it seem like relaxation was my problem.  Now I see I was on the brink of driving myself nuts. 

I'm back, I'm fine. I'm going to buy a fertility monitor and move on.  My baby (or the cosmos) obviously doesn't want to be born in March so he/she is waiting for a later conception date. 

That's my story and I'm sticking to it:-)

Give Me Five!

My husband and I will celebrate our five year anniversary in just days. Can you believe it? I can't believe the man is still here. On top of being difficult, insecure, spoiled and inconsiderate, I've been unsuccessful in my attempts to give him a child.  BUT despite all my flaws, which outnumber the above list, he loves me and he is my sunshine when I'm in a dark place. 

This blog is dedicated to my quest to become a mother and my failure thus far, but my journey would be far worse without him. He always finds a way to smile...genuinely. Sometimes I think he is optimistic to a fault, but I'm definitely pessimistic to a fault. So, at the risk of sounding corny, I'll just say it-- he lifts me up. 

My only hope is regardless of what the next five years bring--children or more dogs---that I can be a better wife to him. It can be difficult for me to overcome myself.  Slowly (and I mean very slowly) but surely, I think I'm getting there. 

As we continue on our journey, I know one thing for sure. No matter what happens tomorrow, I will always be thankful for every way he has helped me to spread my wings. From exploring the world (ok..a few states), making new friends and achieving my goals, he really has made me a better person.

I love him so much:-)

Happy Anniversary, DjRass!

Coffee Crisis

It's one day before my period is due and I am hoping for a miracle.  I want it to be late--like nine months late, but I know that won't happen.  We were careful not to be "irresponsible" before my three month recovery period.  That means that even though my fertile period was sometime around May 17th and the three month mark was just 8 days later, we did not take any chances.

Anyway...as I sit hear daydreaming about a baby bump and thanking God for my coffee, guess what passes across my twitter timeline? An article from Time magazine warning that too much coffee could delay/prevent pregnancy.

Yes, I knew this already, but dang!  This article says caffeine can keep your fallopian tubes from properly contracting and helping that egg drop into the baby cooker. Ugh!

Coffee is my biggest vice.  I've pretty much cut soda out of my life.  Now that I think about it, I only drink coffee and water.  Most of the time, it's one cup of coffee a day (a grande starbucks).  But it looks like I may have to cut it out completely.  Man!  I'll work on it.  I'll work on it.

It just seems like when you're struggling to have a baby, everything you do IS WRONG.  Worrying is wrong, what you eat is wrong...heck YOUR LIFE IS WRONG.  Sometimes it's just a bit a more than I can handle. 

Oh well.  The good news is that once this new cycle begins, I get to try again.  While that will bring it's own ups and downs, at least I get to make an attempt.  My Momma always says, "nothing beats a try, but a fail." 

I'll keep fighting.  It would hurt more to die childless knowing I didn't give it a good try...I guess.

Boobs & Boredom

In between daydreaming about being a mommy, I stare myself down in the mirror and say, "Self, why are your boobs so small?"

In the weeks leading up to my robotic myomemctomy, I often told my mother that if I didn't wake up with a working reproductive system, I'd at least like some bigger boobs. She told me the doctor would probably need more money AND warning to make that little dream come true. 

I'm not writing this up to have a self-hate moment. What GOD gave me is not whack. I'm pretty healthy, I don't think I was born the wrong gender and I don't look like big foot. However, sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I had a c-cup instead of a no-cup...I mean an a-cup (which I magically turn into a b cup. Oh yes, honey. It can be done). 

I've thought about this since my college years. I often joke and say when my husband gets rich, he'll buy my boobs.  The truth is even if he became a millionaire, I'd still be a no-cup.  It's not because I'm too cheap...after all, I want a $175 pair of Tori Burch flats. It's just that...I'm simply too scared to do it. It's just not worth it to go dangerously close to death, which is what I consider surgery, for something cosmetic. (Just because I think that now, doesn't mean I won't change my mind someday.)

Sooo...I'll spend the rest of my life..at least the foreseeable future... wondering if a c-cup has the power to change my life.  I'll also be hoping that I have a healthy daughter who has everything I have in life AND MORE. That includes a Ph.D. and a c-cup. 

Here We Go Again

It's starting again--my obsession. Last night I had a bit of a belly ache. As I tried to figure out what caused it, guess what creeped into my mind? Pregnancy...yes, pregnancy. I thought about it all. night.long. 

I didn't realize that one of the blessings of my surgery was peace of mind. I couldn't worry about the possibility of pregnancy because I knew it couldn't happen.

But now, my three months are over and my imagination can run wild again. I have to be honest, linking last night's belly ache to possible pregnancy was pretty irrational.  I am likely going to drive myself nuts...more nuts than I already am.  

I have to somehow keep my focus off reproduction, yet on it-- and I really don't know how I'll do it. (I'm tearing up as I write this) I really don't want this to consume me again. I was feeling sooo good and positive.  Now I'm getting scared and depressed again. Nothing makes me feel worse than losing or failure. I am a master at avoiding things that could lead me to those two evils. But this...this I can't seem to shake and it is truly shaking me. 

I'll fight it though. I refuse to let it consume me. I've got bigger things to worry about, like getting a permanent job so I can buy myself a $175 pair of Tori Burch shoes. 

What's the lesson in this? When the important things become too much to bear, focus on something dumb--and cute-- to get you through it:-)

Do The Robot! (my surgery)

Soooo...I had to take off from work the day BEFORE the surgery (robotic myomectomy). Dr. A put me on a liquid diet. That meant no solids and only clear liquids, plus I had to drink some stuff to clear my bowels.

CHICKEN...all I could think of was chicken. I didn't know how I would survive this diet and I was only about an hour in. I took a moment to google why a doctor would choose to torture me just a day before he planned to cut me open. Once I learned that they needed the bowels clear to make sure there would be no "contamination" during the actual surgery,  I got the strength to make it through the "clear diet."

On the day of surgery I was feeling good. Two of my favorite people were by my side-- my mother and my husband. We arrived at the hospital two hours before the operation, as the doctor scheduled.

CHICkEN WAS STILL ALL I COULD THINK OF, but the "REAL STUFF" was under way. A nurse came in to put in my IV. She made two attempts and said she couldn't do it. Not only were my veins small, but they had all but disappeared because I stopped drinking liquids at 8 the night before, as the doctor ordered. Lucky for her AND me she was beyond nice and gentle, so I wasn't freaked out.  I wasn't even freaked out when the second nurse came in and pretty much spanked my hand to make my veins appear. Moments later, the IV was in and I was good to go.

A string of doctors came in to talk to me and my peeps (mom and hubby). Just as I was about to cry a bit, the anestisiologist came in. Since I don't cry in front of strangers, I sucked it up. My mom and hubby left and I was given something to relax. Next thing I knew, two guys wheeled me down the hall and into an operating room. They told me to move over a bit and *snap* I  was out.

When I woke up, I heard a voice call me angle face and saw the inside of the recovery room. I thought I should be able to get up and go. My mom and hubby were back in the room, but I couldn't leave.

The doctor completed a robotic myomectomy on me. He made five incisions across my abdomen so that my stomach resembled Tupac and his "thug life" tattoo. During the time I was knocked out, he removed two fibroids. One of which had a baby fibroid trying to grow out of it.   So technically, that brought my total to three. In all, they weighed a half pound, which sucks. I was 10 pounds over weight, not a half pound (lol).  But in all seriousness, Dr. A said if i am able to get pregnant, i will deliver by c-section because of the big incision he made at the back of my uterus. Oh..he also told me I'd have to give my uterus three months to recover before I could try to conceive again.

As I stood up in the recovery room, I didn't know any of that. All I knew is that I couldn't move as fast as I wanted and I needed to pee. They wouldn't release me, until I peed. I had a major breakdown, which I thoroughly believe was related to all the drugs in my system.

I freaked out after the nurse gave me peanut butter and crackers. My mouth was dry and the peanut butter stuck to my mouth. I COULD NOT handle it. I totally lost it, but mom and hubby took it in stride. They calmed me down, gave me water and got me back in bed.

From there, I needed to pee. BUT I COULDN'T!!!  It took about four hours.  The nurse scanned me with a machine to make sure I had something in my bladder. I finally took my iPhone to the potty. Believe it or not, reading facebook helped me to relax and pee (hooray!)

Needless to say, I was no longer thinking about chicken.  About three days passed before I could think of food again.

A traditional myomectomy takes six to eight weeks to recover from and you have to stay in the hospital overnight. A robotic one takes two to four weeks and you don't stay in the hospital overnight. But don't get it twisted like I did---it is surgery. I took large doses of ibuprofen for two weeks to fight off inflammation, plus I had oxycodone for moments when the pain was too much. Lucky for me, I only needed two or three of those for my entire recovery.

I was taking small walks by the end of the first week after my surgery. By week two, I was bored and wanted to go back to work. I returned to work on week three and learned I was not 100%, but I was about 80%. Truth be told, it probably wouldn't have hurt me to take three weeks off work...no matter how boring it would have been.

All in all, it went ok. I'm finally three months post op. At the time of the surgery, my uterus was the size of a 16-week pregnant woman and I had a pouchy looking stomach. Now, my belly is back to a normal size.

I can start trying to conceive next month, but I'm nervous and scared. I don't know if I'll actually start trying.

Meeting Mr. Miracle (ok..the doctor)

I prayed for this surgery. I prayed for it. I went in to meet the recommended surgeon in January knowing full well that I would be leaving the state in April. I needed a miracle to actually trust this surgeon and get a date for the operation.

My appointment was on MLK day. This happened to be the first year that my job was actually acknowleding it as a paid holiday, so I didn't have to take a sick day (hooray!).

As I drove to the hospital, I told my mother that if this doctor was scary, looked like Dr. Death or smelled, he was not going to get a chance to cut me open.   I had already looked at his picture on the internet and let me tell you, his chances of getting me on the operating table were looking slim.

With that said, I approached our first appointment with as much positivity as I could. I felt like I spent a lot of time in a room waiting for him. I passed the time by playing Scrabble on my iPad. He caught me mid game and to my surprise, was quite interested.  It turns out that he loves playing the game with his wife(that touched my heart).

I was thinking, "ok, this guy is down to earth and he is far better looking in person." That Internet picture didn't do him any justice, but there was one problem-- he looked really young to me. BUT..he knew his stuff.

He looked over my MRI, felt me up (you know--the usual "down there" examination) and determined that I was an excellent candidate for a robotic myomectomy. During that time he called me tiny. Yup, he said I was so tiny that he wanted to make sure my torso was big enough for him to use the robot.

Well after that, he could do no wrong. He called me tiny when I was nowhere near it. He went on to tell me that not only was he concerned about the fibroid obstructing my cervix, but he feared the smaller one was blocking any chance of a miracle egg implantation because it was growing in the most desirable part of my baby-cooker (uterus).

Because he is a pioneer with the use of robotics in gynecology, his surgery schedule was packed. He told me that the earliest he could get me in was March. However, he would try to get me in earlier if there was a cancellation.

After many schedule changes and lots of prayer, I was blessed with a surgery date of February 25th. That meant I could get it before our move and before we lost our insurance because of my husband's job change. Thank You, Lord!

Dye-ing for Answers (HSG)

I got all geared up for this HSG (or the dye test). You're injected with dye to give doctors a look at your reproductive system. I watched women get it many times on the Discovery Health channel.  In nearly all the cases, the women became pregnant shortly after the test because the pressure from the dye cleared up minor blockage in their Fallopian tubes. 

I'll let you in on a little secret: I was pretty sure the dye test would cure me. I thought I was like those women on TV. Uhm, yeah...I was wrong. 

So I'll tell you how the test worked. I took some antibiotics a couple of days before the actual test, then I took 600 mg of ibuprofen right before my appointment. 

I walked in and was told to change into a gown and put a little hat on my head. I looked hilarious. It's the normal shower cap looking thing they make you wear for procedures, but I cracked myself up in it. I even texted a picture to my hubby so he could laugh too. 

Several minutes later, I was walked into the room. I was told to lie on a table and put my feet in the stirrups.  While Dr. J worked "down there" another woman was on the side of me watching the monitor and warning me when the pain would be at its worst.

Ok..let's take a minute and address the pain. I don't know if the ibuprofen was working or what, but it wasn't that bad. It wasn't a walk in the park, but I survived. It felt like an intense burning sensation when Dr. J inserted the dye "down there." BUT I didn't freak out because unlike a menstrual cramp, I knew the pain would stop very soon. 

Here was my problem: THE DYE KEPT LEAKING OUT. I never got to see if my tubes were clear and I basically went through the test three times.  My largest fibroid was distorting my cervix. Who needs a condom or birth control when the sperm can't get through the cervix? (Prepare yourself for TMI) This moment connected so many dots for me. I never knew my huge puddle after sex wasn't normal. 

This test made it clear to Dr. J that I needed to remove the fibroids. She felt there was a real danger that if I got pregnant, the fibroids would terminate the pregnancy.  

Ladies and Gentlemen, I was on track for a date with the inside of an operating room.

Getting Back on the Bike

Finally, nearly a year after giving up on having a child, I started looking for an infertility expert or an Reproductive endocrinologist. The doctor I chose was a New Yorker in Orlando. I loved her accent and her straightforward nature. 

When she examined me, she could feel the fibroid. I think it may have grown during that year. 

Through extensive questioning, Dr. J, discovered I had classic signs of fibroids. After heavy cramping during my cycle, I also got this unbelievable pressure. It would force me to walk doubled over, unless I took more advil. I never thought anything of it because I have had painful cycles from the beginning. In fact, in middle school, I would actually throw up at the start of each cycle. AND GET THIS, an assistant principal accused me of being pregnant because of it. How funny that is now, especially since I was a virgin until 22 and apparently couldn't get pregnant anyways. BUT, I digress...

Dr. J performed an ultrasound HERSELF. If you read my earlier posts, you'll remember my old doctor wasn't even in the room for the ultrasound. Dr. J set up an appointment for an HSG or dye test. She wanted a better idea of the shape of my uterus and find out if my Fallopian tubes were clear. I didn't realize it, but that's when the real discovery would begin. 

Facing the Truth

I knew something was wrong early on. I'd never been on birth control pills and though we weren't "trying," I should have gotten pregnant because there was no prevention. I kind of spoke to DH about it and expressed my concerns to doctors. Since the doctors kept saying I was healthy, DH said don't worry. 

Well, then our best friends became pregnant and I had a breakdown because I KNEW something was wrong with us. After three years of marriage, my husband no longer wanted to wait for a "chance" pregnancy and said he wanted to actually ttc. We did...AND nothing. 

While we tried, the besties had a SECOND child. In fact, DH kept that pregnancy a secret from me. We lived across the country from them and really, he's best friends with the husband. The wife and are besties by association, so it was easy to keep that from me.  

I finally switched Gynecologists (new doc, same office) and told the new one my concerns. He gave me the same "young & healthy" speech, but I told him I didn't believe it. SO he scheduled blood work and an ultrasound. 

I went in. Blood work: no problem. I'm a big girl. I took that needle like a champ. Ultrasound: PROBLEM! Yes, I went to college, but NO..no one told me that there could be an "internal" ultrasound. I watch tv and thought this bad boy would be on top of my stomach. So when homegirl pulled out a wand and put a condom and lube on it, I was thinking, "whaaaaaaat?!"

I know rape is a powerful word, so I will tone it down and say I was violated with that wand and as I laid there making jokes about myself in my mind, the technician goes," OH,that's a big fibroid.  There's another AND you have a cyst on your ovary." I don't cry in front of strangers, so I had to think of dumb stuff to get through this. I thought to myself, "dang your uterus is a freaking landfill!"

She went on to tell me that the largest of the fibroids was a good size. So with that info, I headed to the doctor.  He told me black women seem to be at a greater risk for fibroids and science hadn't figured out why yet. BUT he said the fibroids likely weren't impeding pregnancy and I should just get to the fun part of trying. He said it with a smirk and I wanted to slap it off his face. What did he think, we weren't trying? Anyway, he set up a second appointment for more blood work and another ultrasound. 

The second visit left me just as angry. The blood work was great.  my hormone levels were good and it appeared that I am ovulating. BUT that ultrasound was more than I could handle. This time I got a technician who lacked tact and a good bedside manner. When she saw my largest fibroid, she asked me in rude tone how I couldn't feel it. She said it was so big, I should have felt it. It was like she was mad at me. 

I thought to myself," sorry, lady. I come here every year and every year YOU jerks say everything was fine. No problems. It took me begging for fertility checks to find it in the first place!"

SOO after HER, I went back into the doctor's office. I told him that I was very concerned because the technician seemed to think my fibroid was a major problem. He made it like it was no big deal. I went on to ask him if maybe we should get the thing out. My mom and aunts all had theirs removed in their 40s. He said I should try to get pregnant first because I would have to wait 8 months after surgery to ttc.   Once again, he told me to do the fun stuff and "try." 

I left devastated. I decided I hated him and ttcing...and I was just going to give up. I was pretty damned depressed, but because I was always taught to smile, no one knew my pain. 

Introducing MrsDjRass

I'm 30 something with big dreams that i still don't know how I will achieve (like working for Oprah). BUT there is one thing I always knew I would fight for and that's having a baby. HOWEVER, I didn't realize I'd have to fight this hard!

I went to college and met my soulmate right before graduation. I married him four years later and immediately caught BABY FEVER:-) My DH wasn't really ready for a child. He said if we "happened" to get pregnant, it would be great, but we weren't technically trying. Too bad a spontaneous pregnancy wasn't in the cards for me. I had fibroids and it took four years to get diagnosed because no one wanted to believe a young, healthy African-American woman could really be battling infertility.

I just want to share my experience because no one seems to have had my issues. Every woman I've read about found out about her fibroids because of a miscarriage. Well, I've never been pregnant and the only birth control I ever used was a condom. I feared pills and hormones, so I've never taken them for pregnancy prevention. I just always figured I was quite good and responsible with the condoms. I never figured my body was the real barrier between me and a baby.

I'll use this blog to recount my experiences as I prepare to ttc again. I had surgery to remove my fibroids 2 months ago. I can't ttc until I reach month three and I'm getting anxious. I want to try. I don't want to try. I'm afraid it won't work. I'm optimistic it will work. I'm a mess and ALL I have is baby on the brain.