a-flowing

Thanks to all for the kind words and encouragement.  I have realized that even when trying to avoid being consumed by ttc, I do need to drop by here more often, if for nothing else than for somewhat cheerier posts!  I generally come here when I'm having a difficult time with everything and waltz through life without blogging on the other days.  It works for me, until it doesn't and I have a massive breakdown in the grocery store parking lot, or an otherwise inconvenient and embarrassing location for uncontrollable, audible sobs.

Still, I began this blog as a record of our journey, to document all the feelings I was having so that I and others could go back, understand, fill the disconnect, the void, get encouragement, hope, and insight into different ways of dealing with the excruciating wait, the pain.  But if I only come to rant, if I only come in those self pity moments I am not doing myself or anyone else any good in the long run.  Of course, I will have to come here and rant at times.  I'll have to curse the pregnant woman I see in the parking lot with six children already waddling behind her.  (*#&^   @$!%^) And I'll have to complain about leaking with goo and being forced to walk around wearing a pad grown woman's diaper.  I'll have to explore all the dark feelings I have, but I don't want to neglect those times of light by taking them for granted and paying them little mind.  I'll be better.  At least, I'll try.

With that being said, I have had a fabulous long weekend.  I am realizing that holidays this year will more than likely be a struggle for me.  There seems to be something about those times that you are naturally more reflective that is making my mind go into an all-out tailspin these days.  Case in point, when we got back from summer break, our principal asked us to stand, introduce ourselves to new staff and tell what made this summer memorable.  Memorable?  Really?  Of course I was the first person to speak.  Of course I was asked to stand and had to (hopefully discreetly) struggle to pull my aching ovaries up.  I a little less than two weeks out of the hospital and one week off bed rest at the time.  Yes, that is what made this summer memorable.  Fast forward to Thanksgiving and I feel myself being pulled again into those reflective moments.  I am a lucky girl and thankful for much, truly.  But compared to other times, this last year hasn't been so great.  That's the truth.  On top of that, holidays remind me of how I have spent the past holidays "knowing" that we'd have a baby next time around, dreaming of our little family together around the table, on Christmas morning.  All in all, I am aware holidays won't come easy this year, but I am glad to have found ways to combat the inevitable.

via google images

Still, I am happy that I was able to keep busy by serving up a delectable feast for our first hosted Thanksgiving.  And, I am feeling happy, soooo happy for jumping back into art, for the fact that my creative juice are once again flowing.  Art makes me so happy.  Creating feeds me and undeniably lifts my soul.  It is one of the most satisfying things to see something you have had in your head come to life on paper.  It may not always look exactly how it looked in your head, but the process, its evolution is something you have created and helped to form.  Funny how this parallels the road to parenting itself...

This weekend, it was an imagined child's rendition of a tree with a favorite quote, the very beginnings of which are on the art therapy page but will soon have to be updated.  It has come a long way since then and has been absolute art therapy.  Of course I work on other pieces that are not fertility related, but it is funny how my favorite pieces are those that are.  You would think that there would be too much pain in them, but it is these very pieces that seem to bring hope, that I want to work and re-work over and over.

I'm happy to be happy today, to feel light-hearted.  I am happy that I am surrounded by creations that make me smile . . . namely my oak tree and my new favorite sketch I'm pleading to make into our holiday cards.  Yet, with nuzzling giraffe caricatures of us as a couple, it is quite questionable if hubs will allow this to be sent to all family and friends!  I'm working on it!

I've been here before...

Five days ago today . . . Cue period.  Cue rant.  Cue meltdown.

I'm not sure exactly what I expected.  I will say that I try never to expect to come out on the other side with a baby in the making, but at a certain point, it is a matter of survival that I do believe that possibility with every inch of my being.  I have been gone from blogging for quite awhile, but to get you up to speed, at our consultation meeting with the new infertility clinic, the doctor gave his recommendation for moving forward.  His recommendation included Femara.  Yes, Femara, the drug I've been wanting to use since last spring!  When we stepped into the clinic that morning it was all about closure, not about future fertility treatments.  Indeed, I could have been happily filling out adoption paperwork in the parking lot minutes before I walked in, sat down, and heard that one little word.  It wasn't easy to jump back in, but it wasn't as hard as I thought it might be either.

Still, I thought it would be different this time around.  It isn't.  I am back in the bleak, dark place I was months ago.  It is quite the mental cycle every month.

Now nearing the end of my period, I am still not sure where to go from here.  I feel like we have taken a huge step backwards by going through with fertility treatments this last month.  I say that because I felt like we were getting closer to adopting, but every time you go through another month of disappointment there is another period of grieving before you can pick up the pieces and look to the future.  It is so hard to throw money into complete chance.  Yet, at the same time, it is so hard to walk away from that chance when the very next month just might be the month.  

Still, this is the cold, hard truth of how I'm feeling today.  As I said earlier, cue rant.

I am just tired of it.  I am tired of it all.  I am so tired of feeling like less of a woman because to this point, I haven't been able to get pregnant.  I am tired of feeling guilty for being the person who my husband is with because I can't give him what he should be able to have.  I am tired of imagining him wishing he did have a fertile wife he could pop pregnant at the drop of a hat.  I am tired of these toxic thoughts that I know are ridiculous because I know we are so strong and have incredible love.  I am tired of feeling like an emotional and financial drain on our relationship.  I am tired of timed medications, supplements and fish burps!  I am tired of being healthy only for the sake of pregnancy--stopping everything in despair the minute I find out I am not pregnant.  I am tired of being scared to not work out and scared to work out at the same time--scared that not working out will just exacerbate my condition but stupidly scared that working out will prevent implantation or knock something loose (so non-sensical!)  I am tired of what this has turned our sex life into - methodical, timed sex attempted only during fertile days.  I am tired of not drinking at the end of a hard day.  Of not eating sushi, of even avoiding things like cold lunch meat and my caffeinated tea.  I am tired of having progesterone goo leak out of me every day for two weeks while I wait, in one of the most uncomfortable states possible, to hear if we succeeded this month.  I am tired of thinking about it constantly.  I am tired of the hopeful days where I begin to feel every twinge.  I am tired of the monthly dream of how I will tell hubs about the pregnancy, how I will tell my friends, my family.  I am tired of being poked with a needle.  I am tired of that pitiful voice they just have to receive training days on - the perfect inflection for telling her she's not knocked up over the phone.   I am tired of hating, literally hating my body.  I am tired of feeling dramatic.  I hate dramatics.  I am tired of the overwhelming negativity and the miniscule positivity I feel during this process.  But I am also tired of feeling that I just can't walk away.  

I'm also tired of that annoying habit during hard times to take a lyric of a song and twist it to fit your situation, then cry uncontrollably as you play the song on repeat.  The newest song written just for me at this time is Dessa's Mineshaft.  

Little lines, such as 

The list of things of I used to be is longer than the list of things I am

Ex-lover, ex-friend
. . .
Living on the small chance
Luck would save the last dance

speaks to how I feel as though I am losing my identity and withdrawing into myself as I wait for luck to save me.   

One day I'd like to say what all the tug-o'-war was for

obviously speaks to me, to all in my situation, I'm sure.

further from our origin,
No closer to our destination

reminds me of how, even though I know that we are a strong couple, we are far from where we started but still possibly very far from where we want to be.  Sigh.

You're tired, you're fired
You're inside of the lie
It's a brilliant design
It's like, "Just act surprised"

explains how I feel as though I'm stuck and going nowhere.  And tired.  

And of course, the chorus kills me every time I think of my body's past, current, or future confirmation that it is not pregnant with my little bean.  

I've been here before and I know where it goes

It goes down 

Mineshaft by Dessa, live version of remake from her new CD Castor, the Twin
(The version on her newest CD I just can't resist.  Not a studio recording, but enjoy!)  

I think we are looking at a "natural" cycle this month seeing as probable news would come immediately prior to the holidays and timing would make appointments difficult.  Besides, I just don't want to deal with that progesterone goo!  I know that none of this matters once on the other side, but on this side, it feels like I am being crushed by it all.