One Year

It's been a little more than a year since my surgery.  My period still comes and I'm still not pregnant.  The list below sums up my life right now.

1. Fake smiles: I went to a baby shower filled with pregnant women and smiled my way through answers about not wanting children.

2. Fake strength: I made an appointment to go see a new doctor then cancelled because I just couldn't handle it.

3. Broken heart: I can barely hold conversations with family I once held dear. I fear they are either judging me or pity me.

Update:

So yeah... I wrote that depressing little note on day one of my new cycle. If you are in this little infertility predicament, you know that the first day is the worst day. However, I was honest about the fake strength. I try so hard to be strong, but I am truly scared.

One year ago, when I started writing down my ridiculous emotions, I hadn't seen many stories of black couples struggling to have a child. I have since found some wonderful resources, including a site called Broken Brown Egg.  The author is so caring and finds the right words to say.  BUT the hope I had during March of last year is GONE. The fibroids obviously were not keeping me from getting pregnant. I just don't know what is.

Let's be honest, doctors use each of us as guinea pigs. That's nothing against them.  I mean...it's the only way to figure out what's going on. With that said, I just don't know if I can deal with the guesses, the misdiagnosis and the loss of funds. I want a baby with every fiber of my being, but I can't dedicate my body and life to this. 

I've already changed so much. I cringe when I have to be around my friends with children. I cringe when I choose to lie about or reveal my infertility to people who love to ask, "when are you going to have children?"

My mother told me she's still very willing to spend her last dime to help me when I decide to give "trying" another try. I told her I didn't need her money. I reminded her that this is a subject we can no  longer speak to each other about.

My mother raised me to be tough. My father taught me to smile when all else fails, but it's getting harder and harder to fake it. I really wish I could blame God, but he has given me just about everything I asked for and need last March (that includes a full-time job).  The only wish that hasn't been granted, is a child. I don't know. I don't know. I just don't know.

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.