3 strikes

And we're out. One more cycle of IUI, and then we're outta there.

What to do next, I don't rightly know.

I'm already talking as though this third try won't work. I suppose it could, but why would it, when the other 2 times didn't?

So now the question is, IVF?

But can I handle it if it doesn't work? I've barely been able to handle it when the IUI's have been unsuccessful. And I know that after IVF, it'll be a hundred times harder. So much more invested, literally and figuratively.

Another friend is pregnant. Due in April. Wasn't planning it. I hate being blind-sided by these announcements. At dinner with some friends last week, the entire evening was spent talking about new baby.

I tried to act interested. But I wasn't. I was angry. And having a pity-party for myself.

When will it be MY turn?

dragging by

I hate the days between the IUI and my period.

I wish I could know immediately if I were pregnant.

Scratch that. I wish I were pregnant.

5 more long days to wait.

today

On the heels of another IUI, I am overcome with the urge to weep.

Not from sadness, not from frustration, not from loneliness.

Today I am holding back the tears from the overwhelming realization that I have no control. Today I understand the beauty in following Christ.

The glory of the cross is not that life is good or easy or what we want. The beauty of it is that this life is bad and hard and rarely how we want it.

We fall on our knees day after day after day, because we aren't who we want to be, we don't have what we want to have, and we can't see what we want to see.

Sin overwhelms us. Grace redeems us. He looks at me and says "Mine."

Today I have peace because of the One who was, and is, and will be.

reminder

Cynicism looks reality in the face, calls it phony, and prides itself on its insights as it pulls back. Thanksgiving looks reality in the face and rejoices at God's care. It replaces a bitter spirit with a generous one.
--Paul Miller

milestones

My birthday is coming up. Thanksgiving and Christmas are days and weeks away.

This used to be my favorite time of year. But the older I get, the more these times just remind me of what I don't have.

I'm turning 31. And I know there are those who are much older than I am that are still waiting to start their family.

But when I pictured myself at 31, I certainly wasn't still working at this job I hate. And I most definitely had children. In fact, through all these years of infertility, I always had in the back of my mind, that as long as I got pregnant while I was 30, then everything would be okay.

I guess that's just one more dream that I've got to give up.

In this season of thanksgiving, it's hard for me to remember the things I have, when all I can focus on is the things that I hoped I'd have.

One more birthday without being pregnant.

One more Christmas where we don't buy baby gifts.

One more family gathering where I don't get to tell them that we're expecting.

And although these thoughts weigh on me always, the pain is sharper this time of year.

of course not

Pregnant? Of course not. That would be way too easy.

Just because it IS easy for others, doesn't mean it'll be easy for me.

Obviously.

So we'll try again. Third time's a charm, right?

With 8% success, I doubt it.

I'm just trying to be content with this life. This life that the Lord has portioned out for me.

the waiting game

Waiting. Patience. Time.

These words have become a big part of my world lately.

Our first IUI was done a week ago Saturday. Only one follicle, which was disappointing. But at least one good follicle, I guess.

I don't feel any different. If I were pregnant, would I feel different yet?

Guess we'll know in a few days.

I'm just trying to wait patiently for time to pass.

Easier said than done.

resentment

I have 7 close girlfriends from college. 5 of them live within 30 minutes of me, and getting together with them has always been a pleasure.

But lately I've been dreading us all getting together. I brace myself for questions, I divert conversation away from me, I suffer through endless stories of their children. And when I leave them, I cry all the way home.

I guess I always thought that if there was a major struggle in my life, that I would be able to talk to these friends about it.

But not this. I am the only one without kids, most of them have more than one at this point.

And I hate to say it, but I am really beginning to resent them for it. I'm bitter that I'm the last child-less one. I'm not part of their club. I'm the outsider.

In fact, I'd be happy to not see them very often. Not ever, in fact.

I know that makes me sound awful. I know in my mind that it IS awful. But my heart can't help it. It's too broken.

from Charles Spurgeon

When your faith endures many conflicts and your spirit sinks low, do not condemn yourself. There is a reason for your season of heaviness. Great soldiers are not made without war. Skillful sailors are not trained on the shore. It appears that if you are to become a great believer you will be greatly tested. If you are to be a great helper to others, you must pass through their trials. The uncut diamond has little brilliance, the unthreshed corn feeds no one, and the untried believer is of little use or beauty. There are great benefits to come of your trials and depression...

headaches

Headaches are the new hot flashes. I had heard that Femara might do this to me. But it didn't last month so I was naive.

This month? Sheesh. Can't get a day without a pounding head.

Hopefully it's worth it.

Scan on Friday, IUI probably over the weekend. My husband is supposed to go out of town on Sunday, so I sure hope it's not then. Not that there's much controlling these things.

My good days have been more than my bad days lately. I am thankful.

But when my bad days come, they are bad. And they come out of the blue.

Just when I think the (extended) family has given up harassing us about having kids, someone goes and brings it up again. A stab in the heard, quite literally.

I know I could tell them about our struggle, but honestly, I'd rather them be in the dark. It's too personal to me to just leave it all out there for questions and criticisms.

But people? When a couple is in their 30's, when they've been married almost 5 years, and when you know they want kids, don't ask them, okay? Assume it's none of your business.

His will, not mine

I am reminded more and more throughout this journey of mine, that no matter what I do to get myself pregnant, it will only happen within the Lord's will.

"Thy will be done."

I am saddened once again this month. I had 2 beautiful follicles, and all I needed to do was call when I had my LH surge to schedule the IUI.

Unfortunately, my body doesn't like to respond to those tests. So the one day I actually got a little color on the line, I didn't think it was it, because it was lighter than the test line.

And in my own stupidity, I didn't bother calling until the next day, when I was informed that it was now too late.

So what's a girl to do?

I sat and cried and cried and let my husband hold me. Because this time, I felt like it was all my fault. Why am I so stupid? Why can't I read an over-the-counter test that was made for all sorts of idiots? Why didn't I call a friend or the doctor and ask if that dark-ish line was it?

I drove myself crazy with these questions. And I still drive myself crazy with them.

But deep down I know that it wasn't God's will for us this month. And really, what's one more month in the scheme of things?

Actually, one more month is a lot to me. It's one more month of depression and heartbreak and fear.

But it's also one more month to trust in my Savior, to lay my depression and heartbreak and fear at His feet. And to wait for His mercy.

round 1

Femara again. But twice the dose that I was on 1 year ago, and 2 doctors ago.

I'm anxious.

Next week they'll do another scan, check my follicles, and if all goes well, try IUI.

Did I mention I'm anxious?

It's not that I'm afraid that it won't work. (I mean, I am...) But I'm mostly afraid of how I'll respond if it doesn't work.

I know that with unexplained infertility, the chances of a basic IUI being successful are pretty small. But right now, our finances demand we try it first.

I feel a peace about the decision. I'm anxious about the outcome, but peaceful about the decision.

I'm a total walking contradiction these days. Content one day, desperately lonely the next.

Welcome to my world.

the meaning of hope

I read something interesting today over at the this site. The contributor wrote that her favorite definition for hope reads: to wait for salvation with joy and full confidence.

And for some reason, it really struck a cord with me this morning.

I say the word 'hope' all the time when I'm talking about the weather or my weekend plans, but rarely do I mean it in this context.

It was jarring. There are so many things that I am learning during this journey of heartbreak, and to wait is a big one.

How do I do that? And how do I do that with joy and confidence? I have to admit that most days it's almost impossible to have such a peace about waiting. And I forget that this life is about bringing me closer to my Redeemer.

But then there are other days. Days where I am acutely aware that I have a Saviour who leads me beside still waters and restores my soul. Days where I understand what it means to mourn and to grieve, but where I can still wait with joy and confidence in the One who sustains me.

I don't know which kind of day it will be today.

try, try again

So today we tried again to get that pesky baseline test done.

I have to say, that despite my name of 'hopeful', I rarely have hope these days. So thoughts of my cyst being gone and being able to draw blood were far from my mind.

But you know what?

The cyst was actually gone. I almost cried tears of joy.

Because in the almost 2 years of treatments, this is the first time that something has actually gone as the doctor expected.

What does this mean? Oh, mostly nothing right now.

But it DOES mean that we can begin on a Plan. And although this is probably Plan D, well, it's still a Plan.

support

God has a sense of humor.

Last week at the doctor, I ran into a girl I went to college with. Who also happened to have dated my husband for a little while.

It was awkward. We both knew what we were doing at the fertility clinic, but we didn't mention it.

And this week? This week we're getting together for coffee. I think it will be good, she has just gone through IVF, and it will be nice to hear a personal experience.

I know it was providential running into them at the clinic, and I'm grateful to have the opportunity to talk to someone who's been here.

I just didn't expect it to be her.

4x6

My cyst apparently likes it's home on my left ovary. This was my first time that an actual doctor has performed the scan on me. She remarked how large the cyst was, 4x6 cm. 'No wonder you've been having pain', she says.

Her only concern is if my pain becomes unbearable, it could mean emergency surgery. Great.

But it's not irregular or anything, so she's not concerned about that.

The only problem is having to wait another month to even get my baseline, much less start any fertility treatments.

The past few weeks I've been doing okay emotionally. But today is hard. I think because I got an e-mail about a baby shower. And how we're going to play that game where we all write down advice for the new mother.

As if I have anything to offer. And being the only non-mother of the group, that will be painfully obvious. I want to crawl into a hole and not come out until August 2.

I wonder if anyone would notice?

And also today... fertility treatment is EXPENSIVE. Our cheapest option is still over $1000. Then we have $5K, then we have $13K.

Anyone giving out no-interest loans?

unexplained infertility

That's what she called it. Sperm is fine. I am seemingly fine. But still no baby. Obviously, not everything is fine.

We got a sheet explaining the options for unexplained infertility couples. It showed success rates of each. Apparently, there are not that many options that have good success rates available to us, except IVF.

The other options for the 2 different IUI procedures range from 8-17% success. Is that promising enough for thousands of dollars and months of time? I don't know yet.

When did it become normal for me to throw the terms 'IVF' and 'IUI' around in everyday conversation? I don't think I like it.

I don't know what we'll do. Next week they'll test me to make sure my eggs aren't 'old'. And get a baseline of my follicles.

Before this past year, I always said I'd never do IVF. Now I'm not so sure.

Am I really ready to give up the hope of being pregnant and having a biological child?

I am realizing more and more just how much of a personal decision this fertility stuff is.

And by the way, it totally sucks.

the time has come

My appointment with my doctor this week was very disappointing. Still thin lining. And now, a large cyst on my left ovary.

Clomid and I are apparently not good friends, even at small doses.

So next week we go to a reproductive specialist. My husband will go with me. It'll be the first time that he is there, and I'll be so glad to have him ask the questions this time.

I hadn't wanted him there until now, because then that makes it real. But I guess it IS real.

Every person has a story. And that story molds them and changes them. And I know that God is directing the stories.

Some day down the road I know I'll be thankful for my story. I'll be glad I walked this road. Already I know I am different because of it, and I'm glad for that.

But I just didn't ever want this to be my story. And truth be told, I still don't.

a tear-jerker of a poem

I have longed and waited.I have cried and prayed.I have endured and planned over and over again.

Like most things in life, the people who truly have appreciation are those who have struggled to attain their dreams.I will notice everything about my child.

I will take time to watch my child sleep,explore,and discover.I will marvel at this miracle every day for the rest of my life.

I will be happy when I wake in the middle of the night to the sound of my child, knowing that I can comfort, hold, and feed him and that I am not waking to take another temperature, pop another pill, take another shot or cry tears of a broken dream. My dream will be crying for me.

I count myself lucky in this sense; that God has given me this insight, this special vision with which I will look upon my child.Whether I parent a child I actually give birth to or a child that God leads me to, I will not be careless with my love.

I will be a better mother for all that I have endured. I am a better wife, a better aunt, a better daughter, neighbor, friend, and sister because I have known pain.

I know disillusionment, as I have been betrayed by my own body.

I have been tried by fire and hell that many never face, yet given time, I stood tall.I have prevailed.I have succeeded.I have won.

So now, when others hurt around me, I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort. I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs.I listen.

And even though I cannot make it better, I can make it less lonely.I have learned the immense power of another hand holding tight to mine, of other eyes that moisten as they learn to accept the harsh truth when life is beyond hard.

I have learned a compassion that only comes by walking in those shoes. I have learned to appreciate life.

Yes, I will be a wonderful mother.

the good and the bad

Last Tuesday was a rotten day. I went out with my 2 best friends, one of whom is pregnant with her first, the other has two already. I choked back tears all night, trying to propel the conversation away from babies. But honestly, when a girl is pregnant with her first, there is pretty much nothing else that she can talk about.

I hope that one day if I'm pregnant I'm not like that.

Last Wednesday was a great day. I went out with 3 friends from way back, but whom I hardly ever see. One of them has 2 adopted children after years of infertility. The other 2 have no kids. The mom of the group just kept telling us how time and money is no longer hers- all her energy goes to her kids first, and that sometimes it's hard not to resent it.

It was awesome for once to hear that perhaps being a mother is hard too... I tend to focus on it as some wonderful thing that will change my life (and that is true). But it is also a stressful thing that will change my life.

I came away with an appreciation for my time with my husband, and time to do projects around the house, and time to sleep in. I guess I need to enjoy it while I can.

I started my period on Friday, and this month I hadn't even hoped to be pregnant because of the lining issue. So when it came, it wasn't too distressing.

To be honest, I did break down a little today at a poem I read. But the good news is that I haven't cried in a week. That's about 7 times longer than usual.

decisions

I went to the doctor again 2 weeks ago. And she said "things are not going how I expected them to go". Which, obviously, wasn't all that encouraging.

Apparently my lining is too thin for an egg to implant. Great. She hopes it has to do with Clomid. Sometimes Clomid thins it. So now we do a smaller dosage and see if I still ovulate... Which means another month of trial and error and ultrasound and hcg.

I mentioned going to the fertililty center, she seemed to think that wasn't really necessary at this point, that we WILL get pregnant. We just need to work everything out. Unfortunately, that takes time. And I kinda wanted to be pregnant, you know, 3 years ago.

But I guess that's neither here nor there. We are where we are.

And God promises to be Good and Faithful through it all.

If only I could translate that from my head to my heart. Because honestly? I'm discouraged. I'm frustrated. I'm tired. I'm heartbroken. I'm in pain.

But at the same time, I know I need to believe His truth. I need to remember that my life isn't about ME. It's about HIM. His plan will bring Him glory. And honestly, who am I that I shouldn't suffer?

tired

I'm tired of being poked and prodded.

I'm tired of the hot flashes that clomid brings.

I'm tired of wondering if every little strange sensation is a child growing inside me.

I'm tired of knowing that it probably isn't.

I'm tired of telling my husband, AGAIN, that I'm having a bad day.

I'm tired of looking like I have it all together while on the inside I'm falling apart.

I'm tired of looking normal while know that I'm not.

I'm tired of crying all the time.

I'm tired of people telling me that my time will come.

I'm tired of being asked when we're going to have kids.

I'm tired of being envious of all my friends with children.

I'm tired of not understanding why.

I'm tired of my life.

month 2

After a year of no 'results' with my doctor, and after realizing that this doctor never understood that yes, I actually would like to pregnant sometime this decade, I switched.

And my new doctor is amazing. Encouraging, understanding, on the ball. I learned more from her in one appointment than I did in the year seeing the other.

And so I'm in month 2 of clomid. And I'm 2 months past having an HSG.

I'm pretty sure I'm still not pregnant.

This month was different. They gave me a shot to induce ovulating, there were 2 confirmed eggs that dropped. We timed intercourse perfectly. I got my hopes up more than usual.

But still, I don't feel different. Sunday I'll know for sure what I already fear.

I know my doctor will be compassionate.

Somehow, it's harder with a good doctor. Because now we actually ARE doing everything we can, and still nothing.

I hate this.

the beginning

Inferitility is a bad word. It's a scary word. And it's a word that I rarely (if ever) use in real life. But I struggle with it. Monthly. Weekly. Daily. And some days, Hourly.

Very few people in my real life have any idea that I 'have' it. And I'd like to keep it that way. And so this will always remain anonymous.

I need a place to vent. A place to write all the things that are sucky about this. My husband is wonderful, but I can only say to him, "I'm having a hard day" a certain number of times before I sound like a broken record. Even to myself.

So I will tell you, the wonderful world wide web, of my struggle.

And you won't say anything back. And usually, that's all I really want.