support

(uncredited)


I know that when I started writing about our struggles to start a family, I was hoping that it would be a somewhat therapeutic experience. an outlet. for something that I was too afraid to admit to myself. but something that was beginning to suffocate me.

I'm don't think, at that time, I fully appreciated just how the support and understanding of people that I have never met would come to mean so much. You have all been so generous with your time and your thoughts, whether you are experiencing this struggle or not.

It's good to no longer feel so alone.

booties

I must confess that I am not so partial to closed-toe shoes. I am simply happier in flip flops. But, that preference poses problems as the seasons change and the temperature drops.

So, I find it rather surprising, given the aforementioned aversion to proper shoes, that I find myself recently obsessed with booties.

booties.

even the word itself is offputting.

but, nonetheless, here I sit, longing for a pair.

actually two. (at times, I can be very greedy)

This persistent new preoccupation took hold shortly after I spied this cover on one of my favorite blogs:

cover of the sundance catalog via (bliss)

so good.

I sourced this version and think it would do just fine. Kind of like an outdoor slipper. Which really is a near-cousin to the flip flop:

And then, for the occasions when I'm feeling more fancy, because I am experimenting with being more fancy, this pair is speaking to me:

I know. I know. I need to save my money now that I am acting as my own infertility insurer. But, for some reason, I just can't shake the want.

Though, maybe, if the unthinkable does occur, I can commission another one of my favorite bloggers to knit a pair of these:

via (wikstenmade)

Because maybe booties are just for babies after all.

hope

via (e m i l y ♥)

The emotional journey that is infertility takes its toll after a while. It is an understatement to say that being flung back and forth between hopefulness and disappointment is difficult. It is impossible not to get discouraged.

But, at least for now, the hopefulness has returned.

Over the weekend, my husband and I discussed our options. While they are far from ideal, we've made the decision to move forward with a clomid/iui. The monitoring that occurs during this process was the deciding factor. I'm starting to feel more and more like there is a potential implantation issue. Ultrasounds will confirm that I actually ovulate and will also be able to provide information about the "state" of my uterine lining. My health insurance doesn't cover any of this. Since we would be paying for all of these monitoring costs already, our doctor suggesting that it might make sense to go ahead and add the "insemination" part.

The logic makes sense to us.

I just called and made the appointment.

I have blood work and an ultrasound scheduled for this Thursday.

I feel hopeful that regardless of whether the iui portion is successful, at least we may have more answers than we do now.

Here's to hoping. Please stop letting us down.

via (mirjan.)

maybe it's the rain. maybe it's because I have to work all weekend. but, i'm pretty sure that it's because, for the first time, I'm truly starting to realize that this isn't going to happen.

at least, not the way that I had thought.

i've been pushing down the truth. however, at least for today, it's not letting me brush it aside.

but, how can i make the decisions i'm facing when i don't have the information much less the answers.

i feel so discouraged.

so very sad.

again

via (we heart it)

shit.

tears at work.

again.

another negative.

almost able to hold it in.

but feeling so overwhelmed.

sweet

via (me)


Our weekend with the little guy was wonderful.

My sister-in-law had a relatively smooth pregnancy, but there were complications during her labor.

A knot in the umbilical cord had tightened to the point where due to a lack of oxygen the baby's heartbeat stopped. As my brother tells the story, it was a tense couple of minutes as the doctor (thankfully, very calmly) took control of the situation and literally pulled him out. It was later reported that the doctor wasn't certain that there would have been enough time to do an emergency c-section if the pulling was unsuccessful.

A story like that makes you realize just how fragile life can be. Thankfully, this life is also amazing.

It was so lovely to see how naturally my younger brother and his wife assumed their roles as mommy and daddy. A perfect little family.

I don't know if there is anything sweeter than a newborn yawn.

brand new

via (me)

That little love is my brand new nephew.

When my phone rang at 3:00 am Thursday morning, I was hit with a combination of excitement and disappointment. I was so thrilled that the little man was about to make his arrival, but unfortunately I was in a hotel room in Denver missing the entire thing.

My husband, however, went up to the hospital and gave my nephew some kisses for me (and took these fantastic photos). He also walked their dog, trimmed their bushes, helped fix their a.c. There is no doubt that he is a good guy.

J and I are headed up to their house this evening so that I can finally meet this sweet little bundle.

quiet

via (rockstar diaries)

Sorry it's been so quiet around here lately. I have been swamped at work and even though only a little while ago I mused about all the non-fertility topics that I could write about, well I just haven't done it yet.

By way of an update my younger brother is about to have his very first baby due this Friday. My older brother just announced that they are expecting their second baby in March.

I'm truly thrilled (honestly, my family makes really, really, really cute kids) to continue on in the role of aunt, but I'm really hoping this recent waive of baby is contagious, because I'd prefer the title of mom.

So I'm at DPO 3, right in the midst of the "agony of the wait." We attempted another progesterone-only cycle. Hoping that it's what is needed.

Now, I'm off to Colorado on a very last minute business trip. I'm excited because it's a state that I've never been to, but think that I will love. Though, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'll be back in time to personally welcome my newest nephew into the world . . .

To everyone reading out there. Thank you so much for the support. It means so much.

weekend

via (me)

A week back at work after a reasonably long vacation is never easy, but I'm nearly through it. I can't wait for what I hope will be a relaxing weekend. I've got a good book and I'm planning on spending some time with it on the above-pictured couch.

Yesterday was a bit bittersweet.

The sweet part of the day was that in this down economy, I was fortunate enough not only to receive a raise, but also a bonus. Financial security is a powerful thing and I am thanking my lucky stars.

The bitter part of the day was realizing that instead of paying down student loans, renovating our kitchen, or taking that trip to New Zealand, we will probably need to use all of our thus-far saved pennies to *buy* our family. My insurance doesn't cover any fertility treatments, so whether we decide to adopt or opt for medical intervention we are facing some steep costs.

The frustrations seem to be coming from all angles these days. Get me to that couch . . .

a perfect afternoon

via (me)

When we returned from the beach, we were not ready to reembrace reality. So, we ignored the piles of laundry and list of errands waiting for us at home and instead continued our vacation. If having ice cream twice in one afternoon is the measure of anything, it was indeed a good day!

painful reminder

via (daytrips)

why, when my heart is already hurting so much, does there have to be such a pain in my belly to to remind me further?

salt air

via (me)

We just got back from a vacation in North Carolina. It was such a luxury to wake up each morning to the ocean and the sun. I think that I'm meant to live near the water, but somehow I've managed to wind up miles from the shore.

Together with my father, older brother, his wife and their baby, we strung together a week of perfectly contented leisure. I only wish that it could have continued for a bit longer.

I promised myself that I would not take any pregnancy tests while I was away. I can still vividly remember last year - We were all together at the same place, though my older brother was absent (baby too young) and my younger brother and wife were present (absent this year because expecting first baby in August). It was our second month of trying and for three of the mornings, I snuck into the bathroom with a pregnancy test, so damn hopeful that the there'd be a second line. Of course there wasn't and there hasn't been.

This year, I waited until we got back to Washington.

negative.

Right about now, I am wishing that I was back on the front porch of our rental house, sitting in a rocking chair, taking in the breeze, looking out over the ocean, and hoping.

a perfect pause

(via Neil Krug)

This weekend was just what I needed.

A new haircut, good times with friends, camping in a backyard, the most delicious garden-grown tomato salad.

I think though that my most favorite bit was realizing that a hotel pool in our neighborhood offers day passes. My husband and I spent Sunday lounging and swimming and reading.

It was the perfect pause and the kind of day that just is summer.

the after

via (me)

I quite like it.

especially after a dip in the pool.

the before

via (my photo)

Tune in soon for the after . . .

three years

7.8.06


Three years already. Yet, it seems like we were just standing under that big old tree, newest of newlyweds and so very happy.

So far, being together has not been without its bumps and bungles, but those moments are thankfully few and insignificant.

Our life is pretty lucky.

On our first anniversary, mostly by happenstance, we went out to a lovely little restaurant that had a charming patio. The night was warm, the food was delicious, the company was perfect. After finishing our meal we were in agreement that the night must not end just yet, so we strolled down the street and stopped into the neighborhood bar. Towards the back of the room I spied a photo booth. When I saw it, I knew. Every anniversary we'd take a photo booth picture. Marking the years. A tradition was born. We jumped into the booth. Twice.

Such a great night.

The following year, we set about recreating that evening. We went back to the lovely little restaurant, but when we got there we were told that the kitchen was closed for renovations. I was slightly devastated and if you had sampled their food, you might have been too. But, I also knew that it wasn't the food that was so sentimental to me, but rather keeping the tradition of the photo booth. So, we walked down the block. The bar was open. good. We went inside. The photo booth was still there. thank goodness. We pulled back the curtain, only to see piles and piles of napkins. and a sign. Out of Order. At that point my heart sank. I don't think that one year makes a tradition a tradition. As that was the only booth in DC, we were at a loss. We walked and walked. Finally, thinking that melted cheese might be a delicious distraction, we went into a mexican restaurant. As it turned out, it was not a very good mexican restaurant. In fact, it was a very bad mexican restaurant. But, it was so bad that, at this point, we found finally were able found the humor in the situation.

I'm not sure what is in store for us this evening, but I hope that we can keep on keeping our sense of humor about things and maybe find a new family tradition along the way.

not yet

(via Loveology)

My husband is not a father and I am not a mother.

yet.

but we do have each other.

and I am very glad for that.

ups and downs

(via +yooco+)

I'm still floating around in limbo. waiting.

I'd managed to remain a bit less detached during the past few cycles. Ever since that damned double yolk egg, I wised up to the fact that I need to guard against *foolish* optimism or risk that ruthless, stinging disappointment.

But, with this cycle's medical reinforcements, I've been forced to become more intimately aware of this process than ever before.

The good news is that it's DPO 12 and there's not been a hint of spotting. Nothing. At. All.

The bad news is that I tested on DPO 9 and 11 and both were negative.

Up and down.

Up and down.

beach bound

Zwei (via valériee)

My husband and I are nearly off to the beach for a weekend with friends. I was truly meant to live at the beach . someday . . .

In other news, to borrow a term from a blogger friend, Hillary, I am in the midst of Spotwatch 06.09.

So far, nothing. not even a tinge.

Perhaps those prometruim suppositories were just what was needed. Though, delayed spotting has fooled me before, so I'm hesitent to start feeling wildly optimistic just yet.

Maybe more desperately hopeful?

I'm hoping all of my dips into the ocean will adequately distract me over the next 48 hours.

Hair Trim or Hair Cut

Just so you're not left with the impression that all I ever do is sit around and ponder my fertility, here is a post dedicated to my hair. Specifically, what should I do about it currently unruly length? I tend to go to the salon only about twice a year.

I'm am toying with the idea of cutting off many inches. I can almost feel the freedom, the lightness, the change.

almost. then I remember how much I love long hair.

Here are some of the inspiration pictures that are tempting me towards a less is more approach with my mane

via (camp comfort: Tuesday, Hair Day)

Father's Day

picture by me

My mother and grandmother came into town this past weekend for my sister-in-law's baby shower. My little brother is expecting his first bundle at the end of the summer. Being nearly three years older than my brother and married for a year longer, I was expecting to have to field a lot of, "so, when are you and J going to start to have children . . ." but was relieved to completely avoid any such inquiries.

The shower, as far as showers go, was really quite nice. I was in charge of decorations and they turned out swimmingly (if I do say so myself), the food was delicious, the group of ladies were great.

Only a few times during the afternoon did I let my mind drift off to thinking about my own much less round belly. Mostly because L and I started this whole baby-making process around the same time. We talked about how much fun it would be to be pregnant together. How our little ones would be such close friends. Although it took L a few months to get pregnant, she did. And with each successive month , that hope of "sharing" a pregnancy became smaller and smaller. Though, I'm still going to believe that while they might be a little further apart in age, our children will have the closest of friendships.

Because my mother was in town, the evening before the shower, we went to church. The Catholic church in our neighborhood only had a noon mass, so we went to one just a little further away.

St. Ann's

This, according to my mother, was a good thing, because (I confirmed this by Wikipedia) St. Anne is the patroness saint for childless people. Apparently, according to the bible, Anne and her husband, after years of childlessness, were visited by an angel who told them that they would conceive a child and they did.

At one point during the mass, the priest said something to honor all of the Father's for Father's Day. I leaned over and whispered to my husband that I hoped so very much that he was a father on that day, that there was a little bean just beginning to grow. Seeing his face, acknowledging and so wanting for the same thing, my heart just about broke.

But, if I was right, well then maybe soon it can be swelling with joy.

distractions

I think it's stating the obvious to say that infertility can be expensive. Whether the choice is made to move forward with treatments or adoption, the costs can be fairly staggering.

What I didn't expect was the following:

As of late, I've observed that our failure to get knocked up is seemingly having a negative effect on my budgeting abilities. While I should be diligently saving for a whole host of worthier things, it seems that I've been nurturing a rather serious shopping habit over the last couple of months. Above is only a smattering of some of my indulgences. I'm not saying that they aren't lovely, but perhaps I need a new coping mechanism . . .

(via nicole hill)

It's been a little while since last I posted.

Life has been rolling along. We've had a pair of weekends spent at home, which with all the summertime travel was much appreciated. We were able to get in a mini-road trip (windows down of course), lots of ice cream (specifically, root beer floats), dinner with friends, dinner alone, crafting projects for an upcoming baby shower, homemade pizza, a couple of baseball games and the list goes on.

This weekend, we traveled up to my mother-in-law's for a visit. Unfortunately, due to some pesky allergies, I sneezed through the majority of it.

We've also had some more time to process the information from our last doctor's visit. I went to my local pharmacy and picked up the prescription for clomid. At that time, being on the fence about whether it was for me, I didn't know whether I was going to take it or not. However, with nothing to show from our previous efforts and feeling like the options are limited, I popped the little pills diligently for 5 days.

Now, I'm waiting.

and worrying (did I make the wrong choice? is this delaying ovulation? should we have just gone au natural one more month?)

Prior to this process, I was never really a worrier. Perhaps, this new injection of second-guessing and concern is just a realistic introduction to motherhood . . .

Update

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

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.

Privilege

(Anais via Cup of Jo)

Whew.

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.

e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e.

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.

Congratulations!!**

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.

gala. (via Elle Moss)

The days have been coming and going. Slipping by seemingly without any change, yet marking time.

Last week was my birthday. I'm not one for making a big fuss about it and I don't mind becoming a year older. What I do mind, however, are odd numbers. I just turned 31, though I'd prefer to skip right on over to 32. It has a much better ring to it, don't you think?

More importantly, and despite how much I do not want to acknowledge it, I am reaching a milestone that is bigger than a birthday.

This is the cycle. The one that sticks you with that label - infertile - Unlucky Number 12. Despite being an even number, it is not one that I'm particularly fond of right now. And wouldn't you know it, on this most pivotal of times, my lovely husband once again had to fly off for a business trip. So, I fear there will be no climactic ending for this cycle . . .

I really hoped it would not take this long.

maybe this is what we should be doing . . .

if i could put it in a jar . . .

(via .trevor)

Finally. It stopped raining. Sunshine just makes me happier. Sunshine and warmth - well, then I'm downright giddy.

Tomorrow, I head up to NY for my best friend's wedding. We've known each other since a fateful gym class brought us together back in the seventh grade (something like 18 years ago!!) and through those many years we've shared so many moments together. There have been those times that we laughed 'till we cried and others when we've cried 'till we laughed. Do you have a friend like that? One that maybe you no longer get to see as often as you'd like, but that when you do, it is as if no time has passed at all. It is a special friendship, definitely more like a sister, and I can't wait to share in their celebration.

Come on sun - shine down on their day!

Nathan Coley's Structures

I think that I mentioned somewhere back a couple of posts that while this cycle would no longer require an immaculate conception, it would be something of a long shot.

Well, as the picture reads "there will be no miracles here."

Though the pangs of disappointment are more dull this month, they are still there.

Right now, I just want answers. Guess I'll be needing that HSG after all.

dreaded day seven

sunset balloons by TiaraMia

Today is that dreaded DPO 7.

The day that can either dole out disappointment or hoist my hopes.

Because of last cycle's overly inflated optimism, I'm trying to be more like these balloons pictured above - floating with expectation, but remaining tethered to reality. . .

saturday strolling

The rain stopped and the sun came out.