Crossroads

So, it's my hundredth post.  I think that's like supposed to be a milestone or something, but I really just noticed it and it kinda fell on a perfect day.

Because I'm at a crossroads.

I'm not sure what to do with this blog right now.

I'm sick all day and every single thing I'm feeling or thinking about has to do with how shitty I feel that day, which in turn has to do with my pregnancy.

My pregnancy on this blog about infertility.

On one hand, I want to believe that everyone out there in IF land is super dooper happy for my and rushes to my blog to read about how everything is going swimmingly.

On the other hand, I know how frustrating a road IF and recurrent loss is and how hearing somebody complain about their morning sickness and constipation makes you roll your eyes and wish you could reach through the computer and bitch slap them because you would DIE to have those problems.

So I guess I'm asking for your advice.  My blog only began this March, even though my struggle to conceive and keep a pregnancy began a long time ago.  What have others in the community done with their conversion to pregnancy?

Should I end this blog because my struggle is seemingly over?  Or should I hang on and just try to be sensitive to my lovely IF friends?

This Isn't Russia. Or Germany or Whatever*

I hate people that say "uber."  Like, "Uber excited that I finally got my nipples pierced."

Nobody has ever said that to me, but you get my point.  If you say "uber" and read my blog, then I'm uber sorry if I offend you.

I think people who try to pretty it up by throwing some foreign words in their vocabulary should get punched.  Right in the baby makers.

Do you or someone you know pronounce Target like "Taaaaarrrrr-jhayyyyyyy"?

Well stop it.
It's weird.
It's pronounced "Tar-get."
Like a bullesye.

And I also really think it's hilarious when you end a phone conversation and the other person says "Ciao!"  Like we're in the Vatican eating gelato.

I think I'm just going to start responding with "Aloha."

Unless I'm in Hawaii because then people will just think I'm an annoying tourist instead of a sarcastic hag.


*If you live in Russia or Germany or Whatever... please disregard this post.  And keep saying Tar-jhay.

Shoulda Coulda Woulda

When I was in high school, I had a boyfriend on and off for pretty much all of it.  We'd break up every few months, mostly because he had been my only boyfriend and even though I loved him, I knew that it wasn't realistic that we would stay together forever and I didn't want to spend my prime dating years NOT DATING.

At the time, I was still confused about what religion meant in my life and if I even really believed in any of it.  I was going to a Christian church and the big push was "True Love Waits."  They even had commitment ceremonies with your parents where you wore a wedding ring on your left hand that said that and the promise was that you would wait until you got married before having sex.

Uh huh.

Well the good news is that it worked on me for about 2 years.   My boyfriend and I held off on (most) things and were pretty good kids really.

And then we broke up.  For real.

So THIS, ladies, THIS is the time that I felt it might be appropriate to have S-E-X for the first time.  Oh no, not during the 2 fucking years that we were actually TOGETHER.  He was even dating another girl already.  What the hell?

I mean seriously, I could have been banging my little brains out all during high school with a boy that I LOVED, and instead I waited til we broke up.


This is how I feel about getting pregnant.  I had my son when I was 25 so I guess I spent some of my prime fertile years having A baby, but the rest of the time I spent trying NOT to get pregnant.... WASTED.

It's like rain on your wedding day.  Or 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife.

Reasons I Should Starting Doing Cocaine

Last night I was hanging out with a bunch of girlfriends for a birthday party.  I looked around the room and realized that I am, by far, the fattest of all my friends.  I am a size 12 and don't normally look at myself in the mirror with disgust.  But my friends are like fucking models.  Seriously.  There were like 12 of us and the closest 2nd was probably a size 6.

So I left that party to join a different party with my normal sized friends.  We were discussing how there are so many skinny bitches in the world and why we aren't one of them.  We have concluded that skinny bitches

A - don't eat, and
B - use cocaine

Oh blah blah blah if you're skinny and you're like, "I eat like a fucking horse and I have never ever touched cocaine.  I just have good metabolism!"  I'm super happy for you.

Next, I thought of all the drug addicts out there and how they seem to have no problems getting pregnant.  So HELLO reason #2!  Cocaine is looking pretty good now ain't it?

Finally, today I suffered through an allergy test because I have chronic sinusitis and recurrent sinus infections so I was wondering if maybe I have allergies.  Well, guess what Mother Nature, you win again!  I am not allergic to ANYTHING.  My sinuses are just fucked up.  Maybe if I snort some coke it'll help with that situation too.  I mean it couldn't really get any worse.

Dear everyone, I'm just kidding.  I don't do drugs and I'm not going to start.  And I'm really glad you're skinny and eat salads for lunch every day.

Versatile Blogger Award

Oak at The Elusive Embryo was kind enough to nominate me for the Versatile Blogger Award. If you haven't seen her blog, you should check it out because she is hilarious!

For this award, here’s what you do:

1. Thank whoever gave you the award.
2. Tell 7 things about yourself that readers may not know.
3. Pay it forward by nominating 10 bloggers you’ve recently discovered.


As if you didn't know enough about me already, here are 7 zany facts about my life:

1 - 3 years ago I had heart surgery for 2 holes in my septum. Weird right? My heart was actually broken. They said I was lucky during my son's birth that I didn't have a stroke because that is often when they discover someone has a hole in their heart. Also, the surgery was outpatient and done through a catheter in my femoral vein. Amazing isn't it?

2 - I've had a little girl's name picked out since I was 13 years old. My husband hated it at first, but with the threat of physical violence gentle persuasion, he has come around to see that once again, I am right and the name is awesome. Now all we need is the little girl.

3 - My parents divorced when I was around 3 and each were remarried. They have since divorced their 2nd spouses and now live together again. It's odd but cool I guess.

4 - My son scored in the 99th percentile in national testing at school this year. :)

5 - I have a mad sweet tooth. It's borderline ridiculous. I try to keep it in check, but if there is a dessert or candy anywhere in a 3 mile radius, I can't stop my hand from putting it in my mouth.

6 - I see dead people.

7 - Last year I dislocated and broke my hand when I tripped and fell while running. Yes running. I'm not normally that ungraceful but I'm not normally that graceful either.

So here they are, my 10 nominees! Have fun ladies!

Pundelina Kafoops Lives Here
An Unwanted Path
Tears Are For Babies
MoJo Working
If It Weren't For Bad Luck, We Would Have No Luck
Parenthood For Me
Brownies and Onion Dip
The Daily Miracle
The Rocky Road to Motherhood
This Little Life of Mine

Perspective

I haven't really accepted that I am "infertile." I'm not sure I ever will. My body is healthy and normal and so amazing. (As in, it does amazing things, not that it looks all that amazing.) The last year or so I have really worked hard at trying to come to terms with the way my body looks. I am not a small woman. Even if I lost all my body fat, I would probably still not be a size 6. I'm solid, muscular, tall and wide. I am always going to have to buy a size large and wear a size 10. It's just how I am built and although I'd sure love to wear a bikini again, I think I've resigned myself to be ok in tankinis from here on out. It's a work in progress to get into this mindset but I am in my 30's now so I think this new found wisdom is due to my maturity. (ha ha!)

Before becoming mature and infertile, I wasn't aware of the vast network of IF'ers out there. Since starting this blog, I have come in contact with many other women and their writing. I am excited every day to read through their posts and look through their blog lists. I have literally spent hours reading other peoples' works and it has given me so much perspective.

I am humbled. Truly humbled.

There are some ladies out there who have had it so much worse than me. I have cried through posts of people losing full term babies, women who have done dozens of IUI's and IVF's and have still never had a positive pregnancy test. I think it is important for me to remember that yes, some of my problems really, really suck, but...

it. could. be. worse.

And it really could be.

Awesome*

So there's a post on Stirrup Queens about linking infertility and autism (read it here.)

Fucking awesome. Super. As if I didn't have enough to worry about.

The thing that pisses me right off is that the article itself is saying that there may or may not be a link to fertility drugs and autism. They don't even fucking know. Yet they are publishing a God damn article on it so that every woman that is taking fucking Clomid can sit at her desk and wonder and worry if she's doing the right thing.

I don't know very much about autism. I don't know what people have to deal with or why their children have autism and mine doesn't. And it's great that people are trying to figure out what is causing the increasing numbers of autistic children, but I felt like this "study" was grasping at straws.

And it makes me mad! Let's get everyone all worked up about something that might not be true instead of finding conclusive, legitimate results. If it is true, then hell yes I want to know, but this article is fucking lame and I hate it.





*This eloquent, R-rated post is brought to you in part by my hormone ravaged Clomid brain.

Expectations

I have been reflecting a lot today. About expectations. More specifically, about expectations that are not met. You might think that I am talking about not being able to get pregnant, and although that is a part of it, my focus is more general. What do you do when your life's expectations are not met?

I had an idea of marriage. Of my marriage. And what I would want it to be. I have had this idea forever. Whether it was deciding what my parents showing me was right or wrong or dreaming up what my home or children would be.

I had an idea of money. I went to college and earned a degree so that I would always have a successful job and make enough money to sustain our lives as well as save for the future.

I had an idea of family. How many children I would have, what their age differences would be, what their names were, what sports they would play, and what kind of education I wanted to provide for them.

So, the good news is that I have a marriage and a lovely, lovely child. Although I don't have a lot of money, we somehow seem to make ends meet each month.

But it is not what I expected.

I knew my husband and I would have hard times, but I never expected it to be as hard as it is, as often as it is. We are both very stubborn and tend to butt heads quite often. We also have different expectations about where our future will land us and that makes me nervous for us. And although we make ends meet each month, we are still in debt and can't seem to create a savings account or a college fund. And the children part, well, I can't really control that but it does add some increasing pressure and sadness to our lives that we can't seem to get another one.

So my point of this very depressing post is this: How do you adjust your expectations without feeling like you are settling for less than you deserve?

I am working very hard on focusing on the big picture. My husband has a successful business so one day it should make us some better money right? My son is amazing and smart and super good looking and he gets to live with his mom and his dad every single day. Although my marriage isn't what I expected, it does make me happy most days and my son deserves a family.

So I'm thinking I have some small piece in the happiness puzzle. I mean, if there's some object or person disappointing you constantly, you could probably give that up. But this is my life! I can't just quit it. I just have to find a way to fine tune it I suppose.

Letting Go, A Cliche by Me

So my husband is really in to "The Secret." Have you read the book or seen the movie? The basic idea is that the entire Universe operates on the "Law of Attraction." Meaning, if you want something really bad, you just act like you already have it in your life and because of this attraction, what you want will come to you. I am not explaining it very well, but hopefully you can get the gist.

So most conversations with my hubby go like this:

Me: "I really want... (insert anything here.) say, a new pair of shoes."
Hubs: "Well, picture yourself wearing those new shoes all day for a few days."
Me: "Well that doesn't help me get the money to buy the shoes."
Hubs: "Picture yourself getting a check in the mail that is just enough money for you to buy your new shoes, and then picture yourself buying and wearing the shoes."
Me: "How does this help me get the shoes in any way, shape or form?"
Hubs: "If you believe that it is a part of your life, then it is."

Do you see how damn infuriating conversations like this would be? I love the premise of The Secret. I love having a positive attitude and visualizing making something happen that I want to happen. I believe there is a lot of merit to this idea. HOWEVER, I am just a little too realistic to believe that if I visualize strongly enough that the shoes are magically going to be on my feet.

Except with pregnancy.

I have believed I was pregnant every. single. month. since we started trying nearly 30 G-D months ago. I confuse PMS symptoms for pregnancy symptoms. For awhile,I stopped drinking alcohol and caffeine. I can actually feel my daughter's soul out there somewhere, just waiting to make her beautiful entrance into my empty, yearning womb. She's there, I just know she is. My life has a daughter in it. Just not yet.

So, in this week's breakdown, I asked my husband how if The Secret is really and truly true, why I can believe and visualize with my whole heart adding another baby to our family and it hasn't happened yet. I spelled out every detail about how I plan new shirts based on them still working while I'm pregnant, how I have the baby's room all planned out, and how I can feel her out there waiting for my arms to hold her. His horribly honest, lonely, and absolutely true answer was, "Well, now you have to just let go. You can't control how it happens."

Damn you.

He's so right. I hate it. I really have to stop forcing the intercourse, taking a gazillion pregnancy tests, and being so damn angry every time I am not pregnant. It doesn't mean I have to stop believing I will get my daughter someday. At least not yet. If it comes to that, then I can deal with that in the future. I've wanted this baby for so long that I really have no clue how to "let go." I have this idea that when I do, it will be liberating.