Day 20

My fingerless gloves – my franken-mits! – are coming along nicely! I am very happy about these. I feel like the real test will be if I can recreate the mate for Righty. 

I finished the wrist-palm-to the first knuckle of my fingers bit. I’ve joined everything that needs joining and now I am on the thumb part. This is the part I’ve been concerned with the most. I’ve never made gloves. So far I’ve been winging this (I tend to wing as many things as possible.) based on my knowledge of crocheting…all 5 years of it…which is obviously limited. We shall see though. My hope is to have Righty finished tomorrow!!

On another note…I am proceeding with some scaring stuff all in the name of a possible baby. /sigh It starts with an ultrasound to confirm the presence of a cyst or blocked tube and ends with minor surgery. I’ve never had surgery before. I keep telling myself it’s for a good cause, but I get simultaneously sad and mad. 

Sad because this shouldn’t be so difficult. My body is supposed to make a baby. I wallow a bit until I am reminded that I am certainly not alone and I cannot really assume the my body will work in any way and just should be happy that it converts oxygen to carbon dioxide and food into energy. 

Mad because I feel like this whole infertility thing, at least for us, has been so one sided. I’ve been poked, prodded, drained, scanned, flooded, hurt, and pained by this process. My husband has deposited his bit and had his balls touched. The. End. As mentioned in a previous post, we have unexplained infertility. We are seemingly healthy and no one knows why we haven’t made a baby yet. I guess women just have more bits and bobs to bother? /sigh

This is our last hope and, honestly,  I know I’d take all the pain in the world to hold our baby. 

I started 1984 last night…and by start I mean I read like 4 pages before I passed out (which I think is going to repeat tonight). So far, I like it. 


Day 11

After waiting a month (one of those weeks because the coordinator was on vacation) to see if we qualify for this study that may help us have a baby I find out we don’t qualify. This is after it’s  clear that this woman (the coordinator) didn’t even look at the info my doctor sent over…so she probably would have forgotten about me. Anyway, why don’t we qualify you ask? Good question. I have a paraovarian cyst (that was caused by fertility meds) that my main doctor told me not to worry about – it’s not a big deal, he says. Well this “not a big deal” is the only thing keeping us out of the study. /sigh This super helpful coordinator (I really would like a sarcasm font for instances like this.) says she’ll email my doctor. I don’t trust that or her so I called and left a message myself. You never actually talk to the doctor unless they call you. I gave him the short version and asked if we could he Mr. “not a big deal” out so that my husband and I could qualify for the study. And now we play the waiting game. /double sigh 

Mondays are bad enough. This Monday was tremendously bad, which isn’t fair.

On the up side I got some pretty awesome yarn at Michaels; it’ll make a cool hat. (I post it when I’m done.) 

Day 1

My resolution was to blog something everyday about my life. My resolution was to blog the good, the bad, the awkward, the amusing, the <insert vague concept here>. As it’s 10:25 on the first day of this new year and I haven’t even gotten on my computer (I am typing this on my phone…) I figured I should get to it. 

The thought that is weighing on me is our, my husband and my, inability to produce an offspring. We’ve been trying for 2.5 years and we continue to try. We are nearing the end of our options, however, and that is depressing. After about 7 IUIs (inter uterine inseminations), about a dozen rounds of Clomid and about 4 rounds of Letrozole (Femera) with the Ovidrel “trigger shot”(all fertility medications), and some months off to get back into a better place mentally/trying the “old fashioned way”  I lay here completely unpregnant. I lay here feeling as if I have failed at the most basic thing my body is supposed to do. 

We’ve stumped to fertility clinics; we are in perfect health and should be making babies, but we’re not. We have one more hope and then that’s it. IVF is just not something we can even consider. We don’t have the spare $15k to bankroll that endeavor. 

So, there it is, day one of the new year and it’s haunted by the 2.5 failing years that came before it. If you’re reading this and you feel alone because you’re going through something similar I hope you feel less alone. Struggling with infertility is not something that gets talked about so it feels like (for me anyway) you’re a freak left on your tiny island – alone. This can be crippling. 

I’ve shed my fair share of tears over this feeling. I hope that knowing you’re not alone helps you to shed a few less because, let’s be honest, they are still going to come. You’ll get up on that morning, the day of your “missed” period, which you have dutifully tracked. You’ll get your test out, you’ll pee on a stick, you’ll wait, you’ll be disappointed (again), and you’ll cry. Another month and no baby – no hope. The weight is unbearable and you’ll feel like you can’t go on; you go on anyway. 

I’d like to believe that this makes us stronger, that it will just make the day when the test is positive that much sweeter. Maybe that’s just a lie I tell myself. It’s a good one though and I will keep telling myself it.