free fall (via monsieur oiseau)

As promised update:

Despite being meet with: "lots of good news to share, lots of good news"

What we actually heard - mind you without a lot of bedside manner - was that:

(1) Medical science has no idea why we don't have a baby
(2) Despite that lack of knowledge, interventions are our only hope

hmmmm. not exactly what we were hoping for.

I was truly expecting that there would be some type of secondary round of *diagnostics.* More sophisticated tests, specifically designed to eliminate all of this *unexplainedness.*

Apparently, that is not the case.

We simply fall into a category and then the blunt objects that are fertility inteventions are waived in our face.

her: "I would recommend clomid and iui"
me: (referring to the clomid) "I thought I didn't have a problem ovulating"
her: "Well everything seems to be pointing to the fact that you don't, but this is basically our frontline intervention"
me: (apparently not effectively explaining that while I'm not necessarily against interventions per se, I would like to understand that they are actually serving a purpose and not simply being prescribed because that is what's done for everyone. I'm not everyone dammit.) "It kind of seems like 'trying to force a square peg into a round hole' approach." (also, apparently confusing my analogies)

unexplained infertility is frustrating.

having an apathetic doctor who claims to be empathetic is frustrating.

I think a little bit of time to mull all of this over will help. But right about now, I'm back to where I was when I began this blog - fighting back the tears as I sit in my office (and contemplating running away to live a simplier life in the Caribbean)

getting ready

getting ready (me)

Above is a photo of me getting ready for a friend's wedding down in lovely Charleston, SC this past holiday weekend. It was a full of friends and good times.

I'm back in DC and getting ready for something entirely different. My follow-up appointment with our *fertility* doctor. And while it doesn't involve deliberating between three pretty dresses, at least my husband is coming this time and that will make it better.

I'll pop back in soon with an update . . .


photo by (me)

I really wish that I could see into the future and know how this will all work out.


(via abless)

We didn't quite make lemonade yesterday, instead something more like watered down, unsweetend lemon water.

What on earth am I talking about, you ask?

The HSG test wasn't so bad. Quick actually. And more importantly, it's a test with instant gratification, as one can learn the *outcome* right then and there.

The verdict: My tubes are free flowing. No issues to be found. The final diagnostic and another perfectly normal result.

So why all of the above allusion to bitter water - because we are right back to where we started, no baby and no idea why.

I hate not knowing. It's a pretty powerless position.

Next steps, back to the doctor's office with my husband to review my three normals and his one normal.

Here's hoping that this doctor has something else up her sleeve.



lemonade (via tielsk)

In mere moments, I will be off to have an HSG. I'll spare you the specifics, but it's basically a test to confirm whether my fallopian tubes are open and unobstructed. I could have/should have done this months ago and I really can't say why I've been so stubbornly avoiding it.

But, today, I'm going in. And hopefully I'll learn something helpful.

Maybe, finally, all of these lemons will be squeezed into lemonade.



(Anais via Cup of Jo)


Do you know how after you notice something for the *first* time, you start seeing/hearing it everywhere? Well that is what pregnancy and babies are like for me these days.


This weekend was particularly saturated.

Let's start with Saturday. My husband and I had traveled up to Boston for his brother's birthday party. I had breakfast with my former college roommate that I hadn't seen in seven years! It was great to catch up, but seeing as she was 8 months pregnant, it entailed a decent amount of baby talk. Well actually, lots of baby talk.

Then at the party, which was a small gathering of around 15 people, there was a 4 month old and a 16 month old. The were awfully cute, but they sure did a smashing job at sucking up what seemed like all the conversation and attention in the room.

Oh, did I mention that someone else shyly announced they were 8 weeks pregnant.


Somehow, the conversation turned to our family plans.

My retort, "I'd better open another beer, this thing seems contagious."

Oh, to live a lie.

Then is was Sunday. Mother's Day. We caught an early flight home. The weather was gorgeous. Called my mom. Had a lovely afternoon. I was fine. Then we started watching "The Business of Being Born."

It's a movie about maternity care and labor practices in the United States and basically argues that it is better for the mother and child, as well as society on the whole, if this country were to return to a more midwifery-focused, less hospital/medical intervention-laden process.

I find this to be a fascinating subject and was watching the film with the necessary emotional detachment. That is until a very eloquent midwife was saying something or other about how the entire experience, from pregnancy though labor is incredibly life-changing. something about the privilege of giving life to another being. something about the bond. seeing a new mother breastfeeding her infant for the first time, with tears rolling down her face from the powerfulness of the moment. then, the tears started rolling down my face.

I want that experience and am terrified it might not happen.

**Fortunately, I am not to the point where I begrudge other people their offspring. I truly hope that I never have to reach such a dark place. I'm just to the point where I would rather it be me making that shy announcement**


nice weekend

(via danske)

It's been awfully quiet over here.

I've been struggling with what to post while I'm idling away in conception limbo. It's really a rather redundant process and there are only so many ways to say

"I'm *really* hoping that this is it!"

But, as it turns out, I don't think that this is it.

I just returned from my very first work travel. I was not looking forward to it. at all. I couldn't imagine anything more awkward than spending hours upon hours with a partner at my firm. What would we talk about? The trip was not the terrible ordeal I had envisioned. It was fine.
But, it was also difficult to be away from home when that dastardly spotting came a calling. I tried my mightiest to suppress any disappointment/emotional response. So, as you can imagine, the last night, safe in my own home, my own bed, I had a bit of a cry.

But, I awoke this morning feeling great. I think that I'm finally to the point where I can stop stutter-stepping around what remains of my fertility testing and just get it done. Get some answers. Start seriously considering what comes next. Plus, the sun is shining and that really does a gal some good.

We're off to Boston for my brother-in-law's surprise 29th birthday party. His crafty girlfriend thinks that the surprise will be, well, more surprising now as opposed to the big 3-0 when he might be expecting a fuss. sly. very. sly.

Can't wait to get up from my desk and go celebrate with friends!

Still have to figure out how to keep this place lively during those aforementioned interludes. Perhaps, I need to devote that time to some non-fertility posts.

Oh, the possibilities.