I have only one thing to say: Megan Fox is pregnant. WTF? Let's add that to list of celebrities and non-celebrities that have been popping out babies like pez dispensers over the past 24 months. Makes me want to barf.

Husband and I were watching Conan last night, a typically inocuous show where there is rarely any mention of pregnancy or babies. In his monologue he mentioned that Megan Fox is pregnant, then when his guest from The Big Bang Theory, Simon Helberg arrived, they were speaking about his pregnant wife and their preparations for the baby. Really? Twice in one show? CoCo, you let us down!

All we want is a break from the constant chatter about babies, pregnancy, infertility, ovulation, etc. Why can't we get one?

Checking In

It's been difficult for me to write lately. I feel like everything is the same, all my posts are full of negativity and misery and who wants to read that? Regardless, here is another post:

We lived through the baptism of Brat and Wife's baby. Aside from a few comments from the priest about motherhood and watching how awkward Brat and Wife were because they didn't know what to expect because they didn't treat the occasion with the appropriate amount of respect, sincerity or reverence, there were very few times I had to choke back tears. Husband and I feel a sense of betrayal because the aunt we are very close to and have been, is spending all this time and emotion on their baby when they have spent nearly no time with her in the past. It's ridiculous that we feel that way, which we recognize, but it can't be helped right now. It was not an awful event, their frat/sorority friends stationed themselves at one end of the porch and the family (Husband's family. We do not mix with Wife's family-they keep to themselves and are late and not social). The division made it more comfortable, as did all the white wine that I downed. The upside was that Husband and I decided we want to have a bapstism separate from mass, just as Brat and Wife did. It felt more intimate and meaningful versus during mass when there could be more than one baby baptized.

Unrelated to that event, today I visited my younger sister and mother. In an effort to diffuse the tenuous relationship I have with my younger sister, I have been trying to spend time with her. There is a history of lies and manipulation on her part, but I can't stand to have issues unresolved, or more accurately I don't like to have strained relationships. Every time I go over there I hold my breath, fearful that she is going to say that she is pregnant again. Unemployed and living with my mother with her 17 month old and husband, it's an active fear that I cannot control. Just like I always expect hearing that from a friend or Brat's wife. No matter how unlikely or impractical it may be, it just feels like another baby is always on the verge of being announced. She has been working hard to lose weight for many months and has made great progress. I joined her and her husband for a long walk today, the second day of sunny weather this year. Luckily, the only announcement she made today was that she has started taking Effexor to help with her anxiety and social anxiety. Then she rattled on about the theme of her sci-fi trilogy she is starting to write. She and I are so very different, it's difficult to tell that we have any biological relation. It was a nice visit.

Ugliness

This post is already a week old, but I still want to share it. It's a rambling post, but it helped me deal with a very difficult week.

I am really struggling. After leaving the RE’s office last month we felt better because we finally had a diagnosis and a vague treatment and conception plan. Two weeks later I haven’t heard from our HMO so I call to follow up. Our HMO had not received the consult letter from the RE. I phoned the RE assuming the HMO was full of shit and trying to cover up their mistake. Come to find out the RE (whom we are expected to pay out of pocket) went on vacation right after our visit and forgot to dictate our consult and send it to our HMO. His little oversight will put us at least a month behind, if not more, in our plan. WTF? It literally feels like the entire universe is against us conceiving. Sounds paranoid, fantastical and even crazy, but it feels so true.

In addition, this cycle I was late. Late with other physical symptoms which haven’t occurred since I was pregnant last June. We hadn’t even thought about getting pregnant this month since the wrong ovary was ovulating, etc. Two days late is a lot for me and so I went to the HMO to take a test. It was negative. That was so frustrating! Had I just started on time, I would never have had any hope, but being late made me think it was a possibility. This all happened earlier this week and I get to end the week with Easter dinner with Husband’s family.

I don’t want to go to Easter dinner with Brat, Wife and their baby for whom my hatred for has been increasing daily.  That baby embodies everything wrong in my life and is a constant reminder that everything just happens for them. It’s becoming increasingly painful because they now spend a bit of time with the extended family, which they never used to do, but now the baby makes them the center of attention, and so there are more people posting photos of her on Facebook and commenting about how adorable and smart she is. She’s not particularly either of those things, she’s just a baby. No more special than any of the other fucking babies in the world.

Her baptism is the following Sunday and they made Husband her godfather, which is great-for him. Now it means we have no choice but to be a part of every fucking function for the rest of her precious pink life. By the way, girls can where colors other than pink. I don’t want to go her baptism. It’s going to be excruciatingly painful to watch the entire family fawn over her and endlessly talk about how cute she is, how sweet she is, what a great baby she is…on and on on. It’s hard to stomach. What is worse is how awful I feel, feeling this way. It’s just the worst part of me, and I can’t control it.

As things get worse for Husband and I on the fertility front, I’m focusing my anger on the people who have pissed me off including that stupid baby. What I feel is straight-up hate and it’s so ugly. That baby didn’t do anything wrong, other than be born to people I despise, and logically I know it’s wrong for me to feel this way toward her. As all the setbacks occur, my job disappointment increases and family b.s. continues, I am slipping deeper into depression. Every choice I have made has led to a less desirable situation and right now I want to go back. Go back to the east coast, back to my dream career that I left, despite being unhappy in the particular office I was in, go back to friends who don’t have babies and can travel or go out without having to time everything around naps and feedings. Things were not ideal back there, but they were at least different than this. Stuck. I feel stuck and it’s making it more difficult for me to handle these fertility issues.

In an effort to educate myself on IVF and other treatments I checked out many books from the library. I’m desperate to find something to help us, mainly me, cope better. The self-help books were shit. I can’t even bring myself to share any of the absurd information because it enrages me. What has been interesting are the memoirs of people going through all this crap. Even though they are all writers, artists, wealthy world travelers, I can still relate to them. To read about their pain, the fighting, the constantly dashed hopes and absolute obsession with having a baby, makes me feel normal. While I am reading, I don’t feel like an outsider, I don’t feel shame or less-than. Connecting with these strangers through their stories allows me to breathe for a moment, to recognize we are not alone (though Husband and I truly are). At the very least these men and women reassure me that the emotions and pain are not in my head, they are real and experienced by all of us going through this.

However, the memoirs either end in miracle conception or adoption and the closer we get to that, the less interested I am in doing so. When we started out I believed adoption would be fine, the deeper in we get, the less willing I am to adopt. I want to be pregnant, I want to carry Husband’s baby inside me and experience birth. I can be honest, it’s not just about having a baby, it’s about the entire experience and I don’t want to be excluded from that. As our options dwindle and the treatments we are facing will require us to mortgage our home I’m getting more desperate to conceive and carry to term a healthy baby. All of this desire and desperation are fueling my anger and hatred. I feel out of control and have no idea how to calm myself down. Drinking isn’t helping, running isn’t helping, holding back and/or sharing with Husband isn’t helping, deep breaths and other new age bullshit isn’t working. Even writing isn’t helping, but I have to get this out of my head.

Continued Failure

Another difficult day. Had a positive OPK Monday, which was day 10 of my cycle and the earliest ever. Of course, when I tested that morning I got an error and was out of pee, so I tested again Monday night. The fertility clinic is not open, as you'd expect, so I left a message telling them of the result and asking to be scheduled for an IUI on Tuesday. I waited until 9:30 am the following morning before calling back. The nurse was defensive and bitchy-they don't check messages at night which is why they tell us to test in the morning, she had been in a meeting all morning and hadn't had time to check messages, etc. She said she thought it was just the "clomid talking" because that was too early to be ovulating, we could not schedule an IUI until Wednesday. If I really was ovulating, the eggs would still be there on Wednesday, not to worry. I informed her I had a follicle scan scheduled for Wednesday at 7:45am and that I would be over right after to discuss this with her directly following. She agreed and scheduled us for a 9:45 am IUI  on Wednesday.

Got up this morning, got to the ultrasound waiting area early. The technician was very lively, friendly, kind. It gave me hope, but sure enough, only the right fucking ovary had eggs ready to drop. I started crying. Poor technician, she was really sweet, but it was too late.

I cried all the way over from the ultrasound area to the OB/GYN waiting area. After 15 minutes when more than one of the office staff finally arrived for the day, I stepped in and let them know I was out there waiting to speak with the nurse about my scan. The whole time knowing we wouldn't be doing an IUI, but I wanted to talk with her anyway. 45 minutes went by, so I stepped in again and they said she hadn't yet received the ultrasound report. Eventually she called me back and said, "We are right on track, let's do the IUI" I looked at her in absolute rage "There are only eggs on the right side!" She looked down at her chart and said "Oh, damn" and with that I started sobbing. Right there in the hallway as other nurses were bringing in big, round, pregnant women for their happy prenatal appointments. I walked out of the office.

Sobbing all the way to the car, I sat there and called Husband. We had exhausted everything this worthless HMO could do for us and now we are at the mercy of a fertility clinic that is not covered by insurance. Why do we have to pay for a baby? We can't even afford the treatments! Husband said he feels everything is a joke. It's been such an arduous and painful process, what's going to change? If we don't have the money for IVF, we don't get to have a baby of our own?! We have resources, but not that kind, so does that make us unworthy?

Knowing that all of this is because I have one blocked tube is devastating. It's all my fault that we don't have a baby. I've never had an abortion, never had a real reason to be infertile, yet I'm not worthy of being pregnant and carrying a healthy baby into this world. To fulfill the most base desires and function of being a woman, to produce a child-why am I being robbed of this when there are so many unworthy people doing so.

I am a failure.

Would-Be Due Date

Today was the due date the nurse gave us when we were pregnant last year. In honor of our would-be due date, I'm posting the journal entries I wrote when we first found out we were pregnant. ---


Dear Baby, we wanted you to know that you were wanted long before you were a reality. You were tried for, dreamed of, prayed for and the news that you were real made us so happy. 

We had a bit of a rough time conceiving you but you are completely worth the effort. We found out you first existed on Wednesday, June 29. I was sitting in the parking lot of dentist's office after my cleaning appointment and I contacted the nurse to see what the blood test results were. She told me it appeared that I was pregnant. I was thrilled! Stunned! We had taken several pregnancy tests that week and they were all negative, so we assumed you weren't going to happen this month. The nurse told me to come back in two days to verify the pregnancy with another blood test (third this week. See all the trouble you were before you were even born ;-)) I immediately called your daddy who of course, did not answer his phone. I called and called and called. Meanwhile there were two squirrels playing on the tree, doing what looked like trying to make a baby of their own. It was pretty funny and not all the setting for which I imagined I would find out you existed and tell your daddy. 

Finally I got through to Daddy and told him the good news. He was at work with Nonna and Pops, so he had to be quiet and careful about what he said, we didn't want anyone to know just yet. But his whole voice changed. You'll notice it someday, the tender way he talks when he's really happy. He was over the moon. He also had a dental appointment soon after mine, so I waited for him to arrive at the dentist and ran to him when he pulled in the lot. We hugged, all smiles, full of excitement and absolute joy to know you were growing inside me. We've been waiting for you for over a year. 

Auntie Mindy was the first to know. I had to talk about the roller coaster of the week with someone! I texted her about all the mixed information we had received that week and the news that my newest test was positive. She has also been waiting for you. You have a lot of people waiting for you, wanting you, looking forward to meeting you and loving you. Even though it is very early and we had no intention of telling anyone until at least six weeks, it could not be helped. I needed Auntie Mindy at that moment. Later that day she came by with Bradley for some cuddles. You'll love Bradley, he is such a sweet boy. I hope you two will be great friends. 

It's Thursday, June 30, and tomorrow morning I go back for the third blood test which will confirm that things are progressing as they should. Daddy and I are nervous about it, in case something has changed, but we continue to pray and hope you're there, growing. We love you already.  

Friday, July 1 and the nurse informed me today that you are real. We are really pregnant! So much joy! I called your Daddy right away and he is so happy that he cried. He is so happy to know you'll be here soon. The nurse estimated your delivery date of March 4, 2010. That is your Auntie Kimmie's birthday. I'm sure you won't arrive exactly on that day, but it doesn't matter. We are in good health, which is a blessing. More good news on top of learning you're real, is the nurse told me to stop running and start walking instead. I'm not upset about that, running is a struggle! Daddy and I will take good care of you, be sure you get what you need. You're in good hands, little one. We are so grateful to God for you. You will grow up in the Catholic faith and I want you to know God, to have a relationship with Him. Your life will be enriched with the love and care of a parish and of God. 

Monday, July 4, 2011

Beach weekend. 

We told your Nonna and Pops on Saturday that you we are pregnant with you. I told Nonna as we sat down for dinner. I had been itching to tell them since we arrived on Friday, but it just never felt like the right time. Saturday evening Nonna asked me if I felt okay,and I just looked at her and said "Michael and I are pregnant" she SCREAMED! Auntie Rosie, Cousin Shawn and Michelle were there, too. After Nonna screamed, she hugged me and everyone was standing in the kitchen asking "what's wrong?!" Nonna blurted out, "they're pregnant!" Then one by one they all hugged Daddy and me. It was the first time I cried since we found about you. So much excitement and happiness. Auntie Rosie cried and cried, which is her way, you'll learn that soon enough, and said that she just knew it. She explained that as she was driving up to the beach house she just felt it was time for us to have you. 

It was so much fun to share the news of you with family. I told you already that there are many people waiting to meet you and who already love you. Everyone is already talking about babysitting you, the things they will teach you (Cousin Shawn has a host of bad habits he's ready to share ;-)) and how Auntie Rosie is so glad to be retiring within a year so she can help watch you with Nonna. You're very lucky, Baby, you get to have a Nonna and an Auntie Rosie to care for you. 

Daddy continues to ask how you are doing and each day he kisses my belly. Cousin Michelle calls me little mama and touches my belly, too. It's fun to fuss over you, even though at this point you are only the size of a poppy seed. You are life, growing inside me, giving us a gift so great we thank God each day. 

Friday, July 8, 2011

We had another blood test today to see how the hCG levels were doing. We're up to 2023-a great number! It made Daddy and I feel more confident that things are going very well. It's amazing how a number can bring so much relief and happiness. I know that you're growing inside me because I have been so hungry! Tonight Daddy made verde burritos-one of our absolute favorites. I was proud of myself for eating one burrito, when I really wanted three. Self control has never been a strong point for me, something I hope not to pass down to you. Tomorrow you'll be with me at Dani's bachelorette party. My first wine tasting where I won't be drinking wine. You're going to owe me a lovely bottle wine to make up for it. ;-) 

 

Next Step

One of the phrases I never wanted to hear was said by our fertility nurse yesterday, "reproductive endocrinologist." The nurse said that according to statistics, if you're going to be successful with IUIs, it will be within the first four cycles. Seeing an RE is our next step.

In the blogs I read, it's the people going through really horrible fertility problems, pregnancy and child loss who mention their RE. I don't want one. It means something is really wrong. It makes me afraid that we'll have to go through more invasive testing and worst of all, they will find that there is something terribly wrong with me and will tell us that we won't be able to conceive or have a child of our own.

Our HMO has to refer us to a local RE, because they don't provide the service. They also don't pay for it.  I was reading through the clinic's website and they list the definition of infertility for different age groups. For women 35+ it's not getting pregnant after six months of unprotected intercourse. Even if you count the ectopic in July of last year, I am infertile. We have been trying for two full years now-that makes me infertile four times over.

And Another One

Yesterday my friend told me they are expecting. His text told me they were just past the first trimester and wanted to tell us before making the big announcement. Husband and I are happy for them, but as usual, it is very painful for us.
Husband was not surprised. He expected it, though it still made him feel bad. Those uncontrollable tears I have been experiencing over the last year started right away. Sitting at my desk at work, trying hard to hide them, dabbing with a tissue and sniffeling. I don't know how to not feel this way. Why can't I just feel joy  for the people I care about?
I write this while I'm at the pharmacy picking up this month's prescription of Clomid.