Long Distance Hugs….

June 30, 2009

Please head over to “Our Own Creation” and offer some hugs…their little bean had no heartbeat at the sonogram yesterday.


Tell me again that life is fair….


So I think I may have inadvertently hurt Hubby this weekend.  We went camping for our anniversary and on Sunday, we hiked with the dogs up Chimney Rock.  If you haven’t been there or seen pictures, it’s lovely but it’s a climb.  We got to the top and stood admiring the view with our three doggies.  I put my arm around Hubby’s waist and leaned my head on his shoulder and whispered, “Happy Father’s Day.”  He smiled, said “thank you” and then got really quiet.  He then said, “what did you do that for?”  As I looked over, he had tears in his eyes and his cheeks were pink (could have been because it was hot but I don’t think so).  I apologized but told him that I wanted to say it and this seemed like a good time.  He hugged me and we turned to leave but he was a little quiet and distant….I worried all day if I shouldn’t have said something….

See, I want people to recognize Mother’s Day for me so I thought he would want me to recognize Father’s Day for him.  I have several amazing friends who wished me a Happy Mother’s Day both this year and last year.   You have no idea how good it feels to have someone acknowledge that you have children even if they aren’t here anymore.  It’s hard to make people understand that because they can’t comprehend that I would want to be reminded of what I lost but we have two little boys who died and it’s not fair to us to not recognize that.  A huge fear of women who lose babies is that people will forget about them – I know that is true for me.

I wanted him to know that I love him for the amazing father he is because as hard as I fought for those babies, he was right there with me.

I have big hopes that next Father’s Day will be totally different.

Clomid Grumpies….

June 16, 2009

I think I am experiencing some side effects from the drugs.  I lost it yesterday when we were in a rush trying to get somewhere and I was having a hard time getting something together for our appointment…thankfully, I settled down and apologized to Hubby.  I think he understood.  This morning, EVERYTHING and EVERYONE is irritating me, just grating on my nerves….I’m not normally a grumpy person (actually since the Wellbutrin, it’s shocking to see me experience any kind of physical manifestation of emotion – I really have to be hurting to cry).  In addition, I have some cramping on the sides of my abdomen.  It’s not horrible but it’s not comfortable either…

So this is month is round 2 of the drugs and it’s gotten me thinking about when I got pregnant with the boys.  What did I do differently to get pregnant on the first try?  What was so different then from now?  We had moved to a new city and into a new house, we had very few money concerns for the first time, I was exercising like a crazy person – losing about 15 pounds, and I actually thought to myself, “this is the first time I feel like things are finally falling into place for us.”  In the past, Hubby and I have really struggled.  You have no idea how we have struggled.  We once moved and for 8 days, we had $1.19 in our checking account.  We had food, we had gas, dogs had food, and we had a roof over our head but we only had $1.19 to our names. 

So what’s different now?  I am working out 3 times a week at fitness bootcamp.  I love my house and while Hubby was laid off, I’m not overwhelmingly concerned with money issues.  We are getting by just fine with our savings and my salary. 

Could my grief and guilt be causing me so much emotional distress that I can’t get pregnant?  The last time I was pregnant for any length of time was in December, right before Christmas (interestingly, the EXACT same time I was pregnant with the boys the year before).  That’s how I knew things were going south with that pregnancy, I wasn’t experiencing the same symptoms in the same intensity as with the boys (yes, it’s different with twins but trust me on this, I knew).  So it’s been 6 months since any lengthy pregnancy and I am concerned and worried. 

Neither of those things are good for baby-making.  So what do I do?  The therapist says good self-care is key here.  Okay, I’m taking care of myself.   I exercise, I read, I lunch with friends, I’m going on a mini-vaca to the mountains with Hubby for our anniversary.  What else can I do?   I have this need to do something and I don’t know if just surrendering to the notion that “it will happen when it happens…” is something I can do.

This has dominanted my life for so long now that I am wondering if it’s time to walk away from the struggle and just “let go…”

Thoughts?  Insights?  Anything?  Anyone?

You Might Be…

June 12, 2009

Hubby and I were laying in bed talking about “stuff” (which for us is mainly baby talk – why don’t we have one, why did we lose our boys, etc…) and we came upon some “truths…”  If you are fertile-ly challenged, you may have discovered some of these yourself.  For instance, if you buy a pregnancy test, you will get your period on the way home from the store (and the price of the test is proportional to the quickness with which you will get your period, the more expensive the test, the faster it happens).  If you email the doctor that you are approaching a 35 day cycle, when you get up immediately after hitting “send,” you will get your period….(BTW, that apparently was the Clomid and it’s not uncommon.  Thanks for all of the encouragement and advice, I love my bloggy peeps).

I feel like that comedian, Jeff Foxworth and his “you might be a redneck if…” jokes (and sadly, some of his jokes apply to my family).   Tell me if you agree with these or have some of your own….

You might be fertile-ly challenged if your husband knows what day of your cycle you are on or even the history of your cycle (yes, mine does and so does the therapist.  Sigh.). 

If it’s not unusual for your closest friends to say to you, “so when do we pee on a stick?” you might be fertile-ly challenged (I love it, it makes me feel like I have my own little army battling the RBT for a baby, keeping me from giving up…). 

If you have weird superstitions like, “I have to wear THESE pants to the RE for my ultrasound,” you might be fertile-ly challenged (these are the same pants I wore to the day I found out I was pregnant and when I found out I was having twins – it was a 9 week ultrasound and I wasn’t really that big yet).

If some of the closest people to you have sat down and cried with you after your 3rd miscarriage and you are just to sad too go on…you might be fertile-ly challenged.

If you have ever gotten a card, a pair of socks, anything from someone you have yet to meet in person but faithfully reads your words because they too, have lost too much, you might be fertile-ly challenged (or made a new “in-person” friend because of the loss – I’m grateful for Amy).

If you have ever gotten pregnant and chanted over and over again for weeks (thus giving most of the neighborhood the idea that you talk to yourself on a regular basis), “hang in there Bean, hang in there…,” you might be fertile-ly challenged.

If any of these apply to you, you might be my people….

I’m sorry for that but I have discovered (and I hope you find out) that we are in good company.

So AF isn’t here but I’m not pregnant either (according to the very expense digital test that Hubby loving brought home last night). Day 34 and nada. I have no idea why I am taking it so hard this month. I cried on the way to fitness bootcamp (oh yes, fitness bootcamp. I’m fat and I hate the way I look. I didn’t get to breast feed away the 30 pounds I gained with the boys and depression, not such a motivator to “get up and go.” ), I cried on the way from fitness bootcamp to work, I cried in the shower at work, I cried getting ready in the bathroom. I finally stopped crying long enough to eat my diet waffles. Everyone in the office thinks I have allergies. I’m just hoping that my eyelashes don’t fall out again. I already feel bad enough about the way I look, I don’t need to have two hairless pink lizards for eyelids.

And what the F is up with my cycles. Before the Boys, my cycle was a perfect 28 days, ovulating on the day 14.  Before, you could set a Mayan fertility clock by my cycle. Now, sometimes it’s 28 days, sometimes it’s 30 days and right now, it’s 34 days so far. I’m not pregnant but no period, that just doesn’t seem fair. At what point to I call the doctor?

So I didn’t get my win this month and I am trying really hard not to feel so hopeless. I’ve told myself that I am going to allow myself to feel bad today and then start over again tomorrow. Two more months of Clomid to get pregnant and carry a baby to term. Hubby and I agreed that we will re-evaluate things after that. That doesn’t mean that we are giving up. I know that Hubby isn’t ready to give up so I am going to hang in there for as long as he is. I told him last night that it’s not going to be sunshine and roses every month. It’s not fair for anyone to expect me to bounce back after repeated losses with the optimism of an un-neutered Golden Retriever. That’s not going to happen. But I’m not giving up until we both agree.

By re-evaluate, I mean that we may need to go someplace else with my bum genes. I keep getting the impression that the folks at UNC, as nice as they are, they really don’t have any experience with people with RBT. I want a doctor who says, “okay, so we can’t do IVF with the PGD so let’s try this!” I need someone else besides Hubby and I to fight for us when we are just to tired too fight.

I’m At A Loss…

June 8, 2009

Ha!  Get it?  “I’m at a loss” and I also suffer from recurrent pregnancy loss…that was funny.  Okay, not really.  Not a whole lot funny about this right now.  Or ever.

I just don’t know what to do anymore.  I had a little mini-breakdown on Saturday while Hubby was at karate.  I don’t feel like I’m pregnant this month and we all know, I’m pretty good at figuring out when I am pregnant (although, honestly, the more I think about it, the more I don’t remember having ANY symptoms with the boys other than PMS cramping and a positive test and in December, I had no symptoms initially until after the test…ummmmm, starting to wonder….).   I know Hubby was so convinced that the Clomid was going to be successful this month and I hate that I am going to have to tell him that it didn’t work this time.  Maybe next month.  That’s that the motto of our house, “maybe next month.”

I’m committed to the next two rounds of Clomid.  After that, honestly, I don’t know.  Maybe Hubby and I need to discuss other options.  What?  I have no idea.  We don’t have any of the money necessary for adoption or egg donation.  I’m don’t want to say it but we may need to accept that our life together will be childless.  It’s painful to say that but I just don’t know what else to do.  I’m not giving up but can’t keep getting my hopes up every month only to have them dashed or worse, get pregnant and have it end.  Plus, I’m starting to question whether I want to pass this along to my children.  Maybe this needs to end with me.  Maybe I am giving up.  I can’t make the decision for both of us but I just wonder, how success can we be if my heart is just not in it anymore?  Maybe the boys were it.  Maybe I’m just tired.  Maybe I need a break.

Maybe I just need a fucking win.

I have to marvel at the way life works.  There is definitely a give and take to this existence and for some reason, I am seeing it very obviously all around me and it’s given me pause for thought….as an example, let me tell you about all that happened in one day…

A good friend from high school is in the middle of a personal crisis.  She’s down, she’s feeling bad and she doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring.  She sent me an email telling me this and I could hear the pain in her writing.  I hate that I can do nothing for her except offer a shoulder and a hug. 

Another good friend sent an email that she is engaged!  Beautiful ring, great guy, great girl, total happiness is sure to abound!

A chat board friend from the Yahoo! Group for people with balanced translocations sent an email that her baby had arrived a little early but was alive, safe and healthy.  No translocation whatsoever.   This is a woman who has talked me through the super-ovulation process (that’s how she came to be pregnant with her baby) and without her, I wouldn’t have had the information or courage that I did to speak with Dr. S about going on Clomid.  Babies are always cause for celebration but in most cases, a little part of me is sad that it’s not me having the baby.  Here, that’s not the case.  I’m not sad at all…I know what this woman and her husband went through to get their little girl…

Finally, another lost baby mama is dealing with a very sick family member.  It seems like as soon as things start getting good for her, something else comes along and pushes her back down.  She worries that this may be the end for her loved one….

Why am I telling you this?  This four situations caused me to reflect on losing the babies.  I long ago stopped looking for meaning in their deaths.  I’ve accepted that it happened, they are gone and I can’t get them back.  I don’t like it but I’ve accepted it.  I’m pissed about it, I’m sad and angry but I have accepted that this loss is just a part of our lives. 

I just wonder though, when that doctor was telling me that Baby A was dying, was someone else finding out their baby was going to be okay?  When the doctor was telling me that Baby B had no heartbeat, was some other doctor saying to some worried mother, “oh there it is!  That’s your baby’s heartbeat!”  It wouldn’t make me feel any better or worse to know that was the case (and obviously this is all just conjecture because how would I know?) but it was just something I wondered about this morning.  How much is the universe really connected?  Is this push and pull individual – meaning for every bad thing that happens to me personally, does something good happen? (If that’s the case, I’m so ready for the good stuff, come on now, bring it on!)  Or is it something that the universe has to balance – one person dies, another is born….

Welcome to the mind of a lost baby mama….it’s a scary, scary place….