Saturday, May 17, 2008


Barring the results of my CD3 bloodwork, there doesn't seem to be anything else wrong with us. My 7DPO bloodwork from last week checked out all fine. Husband's sperm are fine. A few aren't the prettiest, but overall there is no reason that they shouldn't be able to fertilize an egg. His count was even on the higher side! (Typical...when he does something sometimes he over does it. Heeheehee....)

Anyway, cycle 14 started a few days ago. It wasn't a surprise. At this point, its more expected than anything else. Who am I kidding, I can't get pregnant on my own anyway! It hurts, it hurts more and more every month. I can't cry anymore though, I think I used up the tears a few months ago, probably right around cycle 10 or 11. It's just a numbness I can't describe properly. Like you've hit yourself with a hammer one too many times and you can't feel it anymore.

My husband is starting to "get it" finally. A year after we stopped BCP, he's starting to understand. This is great, but now, I'm starting to feel inadequate. He's just as bummed as I am, ok, in all honesty, probably not AS bummed, but definitely bummed, when my period starts. He was so convinced that we had conceived this month, we did everything "right". Unfortunately, all those things are worthless when my own uterus is toxic to an embryo. He rubbed my belly and talked to whatever was going on in there. I can't give him a baby though, not right now. And I just don't understand why for some people, it has to be so hard and take so much work.

I teared up at church on Mother's Day. It really wasn't because I'm not a mother, it was because of what if I never get to be a mother. During the offeratory, they have baskets up at the altar to collect canned food donations and all the little children love to run up and put their can in the basket. I was watching all of them run back to their moms and dads with the biggest grins on their faces and their eyes fixated on their parents. Grins that said a million things behind them. I started to wonder if there will ever be a little child that looks at me like that, with so much happiness and joy and so much love to give. These days I'm not sure I'll ever be that lucky.

I'm bitter, I'm sad, and I'm disappointed. I can't concentrate on the rest of life. I feel like Meredith mentioned on Grey's Anatomy once, something to the effect of, "I'm so miserable, I can't be around normal people because I'm afraid I'll infect them". I try to remind myself of all I have to be thankful for on a daily basis. This week I'm thankful that the storms that came through our area Wednesday didn't cause any damage to our home or our cars.

I have an ultrasound scheduled for Friday to see if I'm going to ovulate from the right ovary again. Here's to hope, right? Let the hoping and praying begin! Wish us luck and above all, wish that I can believe that miracles can happen to us.

"There is a prayer intended to give strength to people faced with circumstances they don't want to accept. The power of the prayer comes from its insight into human nature. Because so many of us rage against the hand life has dealt us. Because so many of us are cowards and afraid to stand up for what is right. Because so many of us give into despair when faced with an impossible choice. The good news for those who utter those words is God will hear you and answer your prayer. The bad news is that sometimes the answer is 'no'." -Desperate Housewives

Tuesday, May 13, 2008


Last Thursday began the first round of our testing to see WHAT ELSE we could be up against, we were having his semen analysis and part of my bloodwork done. I think my husband had a little pent-up frustration you could say after our moratorium on sex for a few days. Actually, after the previous week, I think it would have happened anyway, however, you know how you want to do something only because you know you can't? Yeah, that made it a little difficult on BOTH of us.

Anyway, nothing exciting happened, I made it to the lab with the little cup in the RE issued brown paper bag without a hitch. I was worried I'd get caught in traffic or something else dramatic would foil our plans and we'd have to repeat the test much to our disappointment. I was a little embarrassed walking in with my little paper bag, but four vials of blood out of my right arm later, I had survived.

There was a pregnant girl in there with her boyfriend/husband/baby daddy whatever. They were dressed like Nirvana fans would in the early 90s or if we were in say, Seattle maybe? She was taking the glucose test and I heard her say something about having done that before. She couldn't have been older than I am, if so, not by much. So she possibly could have 2 kids or more and here I am, late in Cycle #13 and can't get pregnant.

Neigther one of them seemed very happy or excited -- maybe it was just a bad day, I don't know. In the hour I sat there, I didn't ever catch a single smile out of the two of them. I know its completely irrational to expect anyone pregnant to be estatic every minute of every day, but I don't know what drives me crazier - sad pregnant women, or obnoxiously happy pregnant women! I guess both are a punch to the babymaker in their own ways.
"But the struggles make you stronger...and the changes make you wise. And happiness has its own way of taking its sweet ain't always beautiful, but its a beautiful ride." - Gary Allen, Life Ain't Always Beautiful