Thanks!

My blog is filled with so much anger and frustration.  If I died tomorrow and someone found this thing, they wouldn't know that I've lived a pretty charmed life.  I wanted to use this space to acknowledge that I'm not bitter all the time.  In most cases, I'm smiling, even when I'm hurting.

Even though I've been more than successful at creating debt, while failing to create babies, I've been gainfully employed.  I am BEYOND GRATEFUL for my job.  It's not my dream job, but I'd rather have it than nothing at all.

Finding out about the ectopic thing and losing my tube sucked, but it happened in the best possible way for me.  I am thankful for my mental health, and I can't tell you how blessed I feel to have recovered from the surgery the way I did.

I have amazing parents and a fantastic husband who dropped everything to get me through that moment.  I didn't even realize how much I needed that support, until it was all over.  I don't know how to properly thank them or repay them.

I have the strangest dogs on Earth.  My sweet little Roxie only likes to sleep in the bed all day.  My Wally is energetic, but hates strangers.  Lord, is he a work in progress, but both of them keep me smiling on my saddest days.  After my surgery, I knew I had to get moving.  Not for myself, but because I had to get Wally back into his dog park and walk routine.  It seems dumb, but I didn't sit around saying, "woe is me."  I got my sore ass out the bed and moved.

I'm thankful to just be alive and I'm thankful for my strange sense of humor.  If my rants help one person who feels as alone as I've felt on this journey, I am thankful for that too.

Now that I've gotten that out, I'll go back to my bitter infertile tone.  I've got to go now.  A disgusting spoon of Royal Bee Jelly awaits me.

Left Tube? Gone!

Sooooo I planned to have a fibroid removal surgery this week.  I felt physically awful after my October retrieval, which netted absolutely no usable embryos.  A lump in my abdomen was growing.  I was sure my fibroids were doing a dirty dance and needed to be removed pronto.  I even moved the surgery up by two weeks.  Well, during the pre-op appointment I tested positive for pregnancy.  Say what?

Here's how the conversation went.

Doctor:  When was your last period?
Me:  I don't know.  It was for my last retrieval. (I looked at my phone and learned my last period was September 25th. It was November 3rd. )
Doctor:  Well, you tested positive for pregnancy.  We tested it twice. I don't think this could be a trigger shot.
Me:  That doesn't make any sense.  I'll call my RE.  Don't worry about it.  This is stupid.  Continue on because I'm having surgery next week.

Well, the RE wanted me to come to her office on that day, which I thought was odd.  I couldn't go because the surgeon's office is more than an hour away from her office and I had to go to work.  I went in the next day.  Of course, there was nothing in my uterus because we all know I can't get pregnant. The RE thought she saw something on the far left.  When she checked my beta it was at 4,000+.  That thing on the far left was my fallopian tube being stretched by a damn embryo.  I had surgery the next day.  They couldn't save my tube.  They also couldn't tackle the fibroids because they said the pregnancy hormone causes too much blood flow in the uterus.  Great!  Now I have to go back to get knifed up again in 3 to 4 months.

Guys, my left tube was allegedly my good one.  The doctor had concerns about the right one that were never confirmed.  Now we know something in the left wasn't letting that embryo pass, but that's okay.  I'm pretty sure the pregnancy would have ended badly because that batch of eggs was terrible.

I'm hurt.  The RE says an egg obviously slipped out before the retrieval and the Hubs left some sperm that were ready to go.  I didn't get to feel any joy of a pregnancy, yet I'd achieved something I couldn't do in 8 years.  That's fine.  I didn't experience heartbreak because there was no attachment.  For me, that embryo was never a baby, but a problem that needed to be removed because everyone feared it would rupture my tube and kill me.  Whatever.

It feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke on me.  I have used up my insurance.  I am in deep debt.  I no longer have confidence in any of this.  I don't think I can continue with Assisted Reproductive Technology any more.  I can't afford it, and I'm no longer willing to gamble on it.  However, I'll take supplements and go to the acupuncture dude in case there's a miracle out there for me.

I will get the fibroid surgery in four months because this surgeon was top notch.  My incisions look fantastic and I didn't wake up in pain.  As I mentioned before, once I'm done with that, it's just me and acupuncture dude.  I'm 34.  This set back would mean I couldn't do anything for nearly a year anyway.
I told the Hubs it's time to look at adoption.

I go back to work today, after two weeks of recovery.  I've got to say, I'm happy to go.  It sucks being off because someone popped open your belly button.  Ugh!  It also sucks having to file for temporary disability for two freaking weeks.  ugh!  It's going to be really annoying when I have to file for a month with the fibroid surgery.

Another Negative

I took a home test and it was negative. I'm sad, but ok. I'll still take the blood test tomorrow. You know me. I don't like surprises. I refuse to cry in a parking lot this time. I shall have dignity and cry at home:-)

This marks the end of this chapter. No more embryos. I'll finish paying off the loan in 2017. It's not that far off. I'm lying. That's forever away. I have to drive my ol' car, until then. Fingers crossed that it makes it. It's a 2003. Yikes!

The Strange Ways Infertility Affects You

My puppy Wally is 11 months old, and we took him in to get neutered Friday.

I kept thinking, "Damn!  I'm paying thousands of dollars to buy some fertility, and I'm paying someone to take Wally's.  That just sucks. LOL!"

My boy endured the surgery like a champ.  He has no clue he's supposed to rest, but we're forcing him to do it.  By the way,  "R.I.P" to the cone in the picture.  Wally destroyed that thing within hours of getting home.  My husband had to rush out to buy another one.

As for me, I'm better.  The Hubs and I are still together.  He said he wasn't going to let something like infertility split us apart.  He's a nice fella.  I've stopped going to the shrink, but I'm back with my acupuncture dude (he doesn't sugar coat stuff.  I need honest people, not folks spewing nonsense about hope, prayer and faith. I need truth and action, along with hope, prayer and faith).

I stay busy by hanging with Wally and Roxie.  Mr. Wally is all Aussie, all the time.  It can be annoying, but I am thankful for it.  Walking him, taking him to the park, and training him, keeps my mind off my strong desire for babies.

We're going in Tuesday to transfer our remaining embryo.  With that, we will close this part of our infertility journey.  I'll probably have surgery to remove my fibroids, and go from there.

It's Over

I never understood how couples could implode, after going through so much during the infertility journey, but now I get it.   There's only so much failure you can take, before you start to reevaluate everything.

Is THIS what I want?

Is this the person I want?

Do I like this person?

Do I like me?

Do I like who I've become?

Do I like us?

If I can't have the life I dreamed of, is it time to just start from scratch?  New me? New career?  New partner?  New everything?

It's hard to focus on what's right when such a big thing continues to go wrong.  Then, new questions emerge.

How do I start over?

How do I make this pain go away?

Is there a happy ending for someone like me?

Another Day, Another Negative

ART failure number 4 is official.  I took the test this morning.  It was negative.  I celebrated with a trip to Chick-fil-A.  I even got a large fry:-)  Go Me!


I would have prefered vodka, and possibly a highly addictive drug.

10 Days Post IUI

I am ten days post IUI.  I'm 99.9% sure I'm NOT pregnant, but there's still that little bit of hope.  Damn!

Anyway, I kind of want to stop taking my progesterone because I'll have two complete boxes left, instead of opening one up for the last three days of this situation.

Of course I'm thinking about testing early, but I don't have a test at home.  I'm too chicken to go buy one from the store because I just feel stupid.  I'd rather buy pads and tampons.  In fact, I need to pick up some of those.  I think I'll pay for the sanitary napkins and make Hubby pick up a home test for me.  It's the least he can do:-)

I am going to a baby shower on Saturday for a friend having twins.  I am afraid to go, but I know it will be so fancy that I want to see it.  I know that's dumb.  The truth is, I feel like this is my test and I feel like I can make it.  Men are invited, so it's kind of like a regular party.  I plan to stick to my husband like glue and hang out in the men circles.  I can feign love of all things sports.

With that said, I've completely stopped talking to my pregnant best friend.  I guess we weren't really best friends?  She's totally consumed with pregnancy. It's all she talks about and I just can't handle it.  I'm working on my fourth ART failure here.  It's hard to listen to someone who has pregnancy brain.  My mother says maybe if I told my pal that at the start of her pregnancy, my second FET failed, and my fibroids are growing, and my recent IVF failed and had to be converted to an IUI, maybe she would get it.  However, I don't want to kill her joy.  I just decided to pull back and because we live so far away, I just pulled all the way out of the relationship.  It hurts, but life must go on and so it is.

I have found a primary care doctor and I'm going for a physical next Monday.  It's my first one as an adult.  I know. I'm not exactly a walking example of how to take care of yourself.  Hopefully, I 'm not too traumatized when it's over.