Happy Mother’s Day

Where I am: CD1
Medications: none
Symptoms: none


Well here I am. Cycle Day 1, and it’s Mother’s Day.

How is that for ironic?

Honestly, you’d think I’d be upset about that…but truly, honestly, I’m not. Since I got my BFN beta on Wednesday, I have been willing my body to do its natural thing. Since I was 12 or 13, I’ve had long periods and long, random and infrequent cycles. Sometimes they would come every 4 weeks, sometimes 4 and a half, sometimes 5. My body is unreliable.

My fear was, with all the medications and the messing around my RE has been doing with my body for surgeries and procedures, that my body was—again—going to be confused and not get into its natural process on its own.

But it did. Thank God. I started cramping yesterday around dinnertime and by midnight I was spotting. I declared today CD1. If anything, all the manipulations have made my body more reliable. It’s weird. I used to cramp for days before my period, but the last two have involved cramping for less than half a day before AF shows her face.

I’m happy because that means we can get started again this week. I’ll call the office in the morning and hopefully they can get me in tomorrow or Tuesday, because Tuesday would be CD3 and I want to be able to start Clomid if I pass my baseline ultrasound. Fingers crossed for that.

I was going to treat myself to a manicure today, but I’m seriously in so much pain (that much hasn’t changed, apparently). Because I take aspirin daily, I don’t want to risk a stomach ulcer by taking ibuprofen every 4 hours (which used to be the norm for me), so I pretty much have to suck it up and get over it. I might try taking acetaminophen. That doesn’t work as well, though. Blech.

So instead, I’m going to couch-potato it. I finished Seasons 1-4 of Parenthood on Netflix and am now watching the most recent season on OnDemand (here’s hoping it gets picked up for a sixth season? I hear it’s still not confirmed yet…). I think I’ll binge-watch the show, eat some Easter chocolate, maybe drink some wine, and just relax.

Of course, I’ll be thinking of my lost babies. Specifically Baby Bean, who would’ve been 7mos grown in my belly at this point. I can’t ignore that fact.

But what I can do is hope for the future. Maybe this time next year I will have another baby, healthy and alive and kicking, in my belly. Or maybe I’ll have a little 2- or 3-month-old in my arms. Who knows?

I know I am a mother. Whether society sees me as one or not, I am a mother. I was a mother the day I got that first positive pregnancy test.

I’ll be thinking of all of you today. Those of you who’ve never been pregnant yet but are still trying. Those of you who want to be pregnant, but don’t have the means right now. Those of you who’ve been pregnant for a short time, like me, but lost their babies too soon. Those of you whose babies were only on this earth for a short time. Those of you who are pregnant right now, scared and nervous and guilty (though you shouldn’t be). Those of you who have your rainbow babies, be they biological or adopted.

We are all mommies. Happy Mother’s Day to you all. ❤

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Strength Fatigue?

Where I am: CD26
Medications: none
Symptoms: none


No, I don’t think that’s an actual term. I made it up. But I think it best describes what happened last night.

I got the BFN to end all BFNs (aka: a beta) on Wednesday. And I surprisingly took it well. I dusted myself off, ordered my next round of meds, and said “Better luck next time.” I went home to my husband, drank way too much wine (the hangover lasted all day…thank you, TTC, for making my tolerance basically zero), cooked dinner with him, got tons of snuggles and TV-watching in to make up for him being gone for 5 days, and went to bed. It was, more or less, an uneventful day.

And then for some reason (probably the hangover), I was just down all day yesterday. I felt like crap, physically. I had a somewhat good day, watching YouTube videos at work (boss is away at an expo) and getting coffee with a friend on my lunch hour. I had dinner with my parents, watched Survivor and Blacklist and some of the Bruins game. Went home, turned on Netflix, watched Parenthood until J came home.

And then he asked me if I was okay. I seemed off. What was wrong? I could talk to him. Was I upset about the failed cycle?

And I said I didn’t know. And then I said I was nervous. And then I said I wasn’t upset about the first Clomid cycle not working because I was actually scared of it being successful. I told him I was terrified of seeing that second line, because it would feel like the beginning of the end all over again. I’d be anxious and second-guessing every bit of spotting, every twinge in my abdomen, every second my boobs didn’t hurt. And then, if we were that lucky, we’d make it to an ultrasound, and see our baby, again, with a heartbeat, again. And we’d get attached, again. And then something horrible would happen and it would get taken away from us. Again.

And J was sweet. He held me. He told me he understood. He told me he was scared, too. He wiped away the few tears that managed to escape me, and calmed me down, and told me he would be here with me no matter what. And we’d make it through anything. He told me how strong I was.

And then I tried to go to sleep, while he went and took a shower and got ready for bed. In the hour-plus that it took for him to do all of that and come to bed, I couldn’t fall asleep. When I lay down, my heart felt like it would pound right out of my chest. He came back shortly before 3AM, and at some point I got up and went into the living room and that’s when it hit me.

I just started sobbing. Loudly. Hysterically. I went from feeling panicked and restless to overwhelmed and upset in a matter of seconds. Thankfully, J heard me and woke up and came into the living room and climbed onto the couch and under the blanket with me and put his arms around me. And I just cried. I said I was angry, and that it wasn’t fair, and that I just wanted to have a baby, and that I was sick of the universe making everything hard for us, and I was tired of being strong, and I was tired of feeling like we didn’t deserve to be parents. He said, “I know.” And he held me until it stopped. And then he brought me to bed, and rubbed my back until I fell asleep.

We can only be strong for so long…until we aren’t anymore. Resilience isn’t a forever type of thing. It comes and goes. And it went last night, for sure. You can say you’re strong all you want, and you may actually be so, but sometimes being strong is exhausting. At some point, you have to let go.

I think it took realizing what I am actually scared and nervous and apprehensive about to get me to release all of that emotion. The truth is what I said the other day: I’m really not upset about the failed cycle. There may come a day, very soon, when I will be.

But right now…the week of Mother’s Day, the week I get the shower invitation for a friend due within weeks of when I was, the week two months shy of July 6th which is when my sweet little “Baby Bean” would have been born, I am not upset about a failed cycle. I am still grieving. (And in a way, I’m trying to grieve already for the next one, which needs to stop.) I can’t even think about what a failed cycle means for me. I can’t think about whether or not I might actually have a difficult time getting pregnant now. All I can think of is what those two lines could mean and the pain that I went through last time and how absolutely, undeniably terrified I am of losing another baby.

And I don’t know what to do with that.

Mother’s Day, Optimism and Pessimism, My “Big Fat Positives,” and the Actual BFNs

Where I am: CD23 [13dpt(rigger)]
Medications: Crinone 2x daily
Symptoms: occasional upset stomach, peeing all the time, exhausted really early…probably all progesterone symptoms…


Well, I’ve been testing daily since last Friday. Faint lines, lines that were so faint I thought I was imagining them, up until Saturday: BFN. Sunday: BFN. Monday: BFN.

Today: BF-frickin’-N.

Seeing a pattern here?

*throws hissy fit, cries in the corner, goes into a Hulk rage, calms down*

Obviously those lines were the remnants of the trigger. So I know to wait about 10-11 days to let that shit get out of my system.

But now? Nothing but negatives! I’m so…angry, and upset, and disappointed.

My beta is tomorrow morning before I head into work. Obviously, I’m expecting a negative. My Twitter friends have not failed to remind me, however, that it’s not over yet. So I’m not about to go stuff my face with feta cheese and tuna soaked in vodka, but I’m just preparing myself for the worst.

Which means, if it is a positive, I’ll be in for quite an amusing phone call. Will probably be wanting to sit down for it. Just in case I pass out from sheer surprise.

I’m always trying to be optimistic. I’ve tried to be throughout this first Clomid/Ovidrel cycle. I actually barely acknowledged the first half of the 2ww because I was so busy with school. But I’ve felt very pessimistic the last few days. Despite all these symptoms I have, I’ve just felt for sure it must be the buildup of progesterone. It has nothing to do with pregnancy. And I’m angry about it. I’m sad about it. But I’m trying to be optimistic about the future. I hope my RE says “let’s keep going” with another round of Clomid because there’s no stopping me. I want my goddamn baby already. If my body is ready, I’m ready.

Anyway, moving on, because like hell do I want to dwell on this probable epic failure (whoops, there’s that pessimism rearing its ugly head). Mother’s Day is this weekend. I bought my mom her gifts early and gave them to her this past Saturday (the “Mom” and December birthstone Alex & Ani bracelets–I know, how original, but she loves jewelry and has never had A&A before and absolutely loved them). I think she’s expecting me next Sunday, but I don’t think I can do it. Last year I was so devastated that I went from expectant mother to not-expectant mother in a matter of one weekend, and then with my second pregnancy I was excited to celebrate this year’s being expectant once again. But I’m not. So…J and I might just go look at houses instead. Or stay home and spend time together.

Two awesome things did happen yesterday though, which I am calling my own version of BIG FAT POSITIVES.

First, I got my grades for the last semester: both A’s! Which means my 4.0GPA is still intact after one year of school. I can’t believe it! My attention on school has been anything but 100%…between working full-time and then dealing with the fallout from my second miscarriage, and dealing with the testing and procedures and surgeries. I’m pumped that I was able to keep up on my academics despite it all.

Second, Sunday’s bloodwork revealed that I ovulated! This is a super achievement because it reassured me that my body’s doing what it should. With the hyperprolactinemia, and all the suppression and stimulation and hormones and procedures and surgery, I was slightly concerned that my body was going to be too “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON” to function properly. But it seems the opposite is true.

Of course, whether or not it results in a pregnancy remains to be seen. But, baby steps.

This also makes me feel a little better about that infamous 30mm. I ovulated, and that pain in my right ovary seemed to dissipate overnight, so the chances of it being a very mature follicle and not a cyst are probably good…right? I hope so. Especially if tomorrow ends with THE BFN. I don’t want to go in for a baseline and see that little fricker still kicking around in there like a stupid cyst-y butthole.

Once again, this post is a little all over the place. I keep meaning to write entries on here and then I either get distracted or can’t muster the strength. I think I’m still rebooting from school. My personal blog has been growing weeds…I haven’t been on it in about a week and a half. Whoops.

It’s 3:00PM and I’m ready for a nap. I’m tired. All. The. Time! If it’s not pregnancy, it’s the progesterone, and if that’s the case, then let’s hurry up and bring AF around so I can go back to being hormone-crazy on Clomid and get my energy back. Whew.

(By the way, I put up a new page about all the drugs I take. In case anyone wanted to know.)