Microblog Mondays: "Be Careful of your Face"

Our dear Mel over at Stirrup Queens has begun a blog phenomenon... as she frequently does. 

Microblog Mondays. Writing in your own space. Something short and sweet. But it's meant to take back our bloggy space and call it our own. I am going to try to do this periodically. Life's hectic. So we'll see how long this lasts.

*********************

Before I had weight loss surgery (WLS), I had heard so very frequently the same old line that I grew to hate more than the extra weight itself, "Gil, you have such a pretty face. If only you weren't so fat." Yes indeed, people had the gall to say that to me, in person. I mean seriously, how does one respond to that sort of insensitivity? Sheesh.

Now that I have had WLS, the weight is shedding quickly and I am being very diligent about following my surgeon's guidelines regarding my water intake, protein consumption, required vitamins/minerals, and portion control. It all works well together and to date, I'm more than 115 lbs down. But I'm technically still obese. At least for another pound or two. Then, with a little luck I'll be in the "overweight" category for another 30 lbs. Rest assured, my surgeon's office is following me closely, including watching my blood work.

This week, I got lucky and won tickets to my university's alumni association dinner (a value of $300) that was held downtown at the beautiful Château. A famous Canadian musician was the keynote speaker and I've been a fan of his and his band's music for nigh on 20 years now. It was an excellent opportunity to meet him in person. Hubby snagged this shot.

I posted the pic on Facebook, and got many comments on how great I look; almost everyone completely ignored the fact that I am standing next to Alan Doyle! I couldn't believe it!

Anyway, I have a girlfriend who is also a fan, and I e-mailed that photo to her as she is not on Facebook. She opened the e-mail while I was on the phone with her. And her first comment to me was, "Oh Gil, be careful of your face." She went on to say that in her view, I had lost more than enough weight. She repeated that line no less than FOUR times during our convo. "Gil, be careful of your face."

I reiterated that my surgeon is following me closely. "Be careful of your face." I told her that skin takes an average of two years to come back into place (assuming it will; for some people it does not) and that I just have to bide my time. "Be careful of your face." I told her that I am technically still obese. "Be careful of your face."

Seems no matter what I do, I cannot win. I guess my face/neck is on the losing end of this battle. Whether I am fat or thin.

And as frequently happens, that one negative comment overshadowed all the other positive ones by at least a million times to one.
*cue the tears*

So much for the 'microblog'... Sorry.

Giving Thanks... Sorta.

Happy Thanksgiving to my American family and friends, both IRL and URL. I hope your Turkey Day is spectacular and your Black Friday is full of savings and sweet deals!

I'm a bit swamped at the moment. Work is busy. Home is busy. I'm just busy. But I'm hanging in there.

For the record, I am thankful for the blessing I have with Petite. For friends, near and far. For an incredible family who are thoughtful, loving, caring and giving.


But I'll be honest, 2011 has been a pretty shitty year:

From family health issues with my family at home at the beginning of the year.

To tumultuous times having a teenager move in part-time, shortly after the new year started. (We loved having her, but any change in the nuclear family dynamic is always somewhat tumultuous.)

To finding out about severe problems with said teenager.

To Hubby's not making it through his courses... and a subsequent frantic job search, fraught with much uncertainty.

To adjusting to Hubby's new job... which essentially makes me a single mom to Petite, except for two days per week when Hubby is off. It should be noted, his days off aren't necessarily my days off.

To more severe issues and grief with said teenager.

To trying to resolve those issues, and having her move in full-time.

To problems between me and Hubby.

To health problems (again) with my family back at home. This always makes me nervous; I wish I could be home. I wish I could find a job in my hometown.

To needing to protect our family and having to remove the teenager from our home entirely. We're still not sure where this is going. To be determined.

Honestly, I'm tired. I'm exhausted. That wasn't at all what we wanted out of 2011 when the year started. Not at all.

I am just biding my time and waiting patiently for Christmas and the New Year, in the fervent hope that 2012 brings us, all of us, better things.

I have to have hope.

Time Alone Recap

FYI: Children mentioned in this post. Click away if you need to.

I survived my weekend alone. In fact, I LOVED my weekend alone. The silence was deafening at first, but I quickly got the hang of things and I was really productive. I made a huge list of all the things I got done while Hubby and Petite were away. It's rather impressive, I must admit. There was more that I wanted to do, but I did want to enjoy some "me" time too you know! I wasn't going to devote EVERY minute to cleaning, tidying and running errands! And you know something? I barely had a drop of any wine after all. I guess I was just too busy doing the things that needed my attention.

Some of the highlights:
Cleaned the living room and the bathroom from top to bottom! What a difference!
Donated a bunch of bedding and towels to the humane society, and I had a look around while I was there. Oh, what I wouldn't do to adopt a bunch of the little kittens or even the older cats. They're gorgeous. My heart just about broke, as it always does around animals who need loving homes.
Cleaned up the front garden and put out a bin of leaves and other organic matter for the trash/recycling.
Put up the greenery and Christmas lights. The weather was beautiful for doing that; I didn't freeze while I was doing it, for a change!
I managed to get out with a girlfriend to dinner and a movie. That was lots of fun. We saw Tower Heist. A good, fun, mindless film. Perfect.
I got in GAME! Woot! It was lots of fun running around with a couple of friends. I do miss that. (FYI, for new readers, I play EverQuest II, and I have since its launch in 2004, having also played EverQuest from 2001-04.)
And of course, I spent time on the phone with my family and Petite and Hubby.

She had a wonderful time. She happily skipped down the ramp with Daddy to the plane and upon arrival at my parents' home at almost 2 a.m., she found her second wind and got a snack and wanted to play with everyone! She did extremely well on the plane. She loved her time playing hockey with her poppy. She baked cookies with Nana. She fed the duckies with my two aunts. They lavished attention and presents on her (new clothes, some toys, boots, etc.)

Take a look at her new coat! I think it's sweet.



All in all, they had a glorious time. And I'm glad. Hubby needed the time with her, because usually I'm the one who gets that. I have had plenty of opportunities to bond with her on vacations while he has not. Although it was only a few days, I am a firm believer that something is better than nothing.

I recognize how lucky we are. She is a beautiful little girl. She is happy. She is healthy. She is loving and giving. She adores snuggling on the couch before bed. She is content when she listens to me read to her, or sing to her. She has a great sense of humour for only two years old. She is kind. She is adventurous and open. I have to say, her personality is just simply AMAZING. Yes, there are miserable moments, like with any toddler. But on the whole, she is a wonderful sweet girl. Everyone just falls in love with her. And my family loves her to pieces. They really do. How lucky I am that they are able to enjoy her as much as they do and are still around to be able to do that!? I thank my lucky stars on a daily basis. I do.

I truly do.

And yet...

I still want to give Petite a sibling.

I think it's partly because she IS such a loving, giving, caring little girl that I want to give her the opportunity to love a sibling too.

Is that wrong? Is it greedy to want another one? (Is it stupid of me to think it's 'greedy' because any fertile person wouldn't be considered greedy for wanting a second child...) Is it bad to tempt fate? We got lucky with IVF #1... there's no way it would work as quickly again. And if it did, who's to say it would be a good pregnancy again? Or a healthy baby? Ugh. So many "ifs" in the picture.

Forget it anyway; I simply don't have the money to do it right now. We just don't. I wish I did. God knows, I wish I did. I want to push forward and have a try for a second child. But even if we found the money now, the timing would have to be perfect; two little ones in full-time daycare in our city would cost an absolute fortune. More than my mortgage, that's for certain!

But time slips by. I am growing older. I don't have it in me to wait much longer and still hope to do this. The trickle of hope is fading.

I fear this sweet little girl will never have a baby brother or sister in her life. That saddens me. I am trying to come to grips with it, but some part of me is in denial, forcing my brain to remain open to the idea that it MIGHT happen. No, it's not possible for Hubby and me to conceive naturally. It simply isn't because of our medical histories. So it has to be IVF. Do I have it in me? I don't know. I fear facing it again. I fear facing a negative when we got so lucky the first time. So many fears. I'm not handling it well right now.

Who gets to "Win a Baby"? / Life's Sh*tstorm

The New HOT 89.9 is in the voting process for their sensational contest, "Win a Baby."

Alas... Hubby and I are not one of the five finalists. I wish we were. But we're not. Five couples have been chosen and while the ads on the station discuss the mountain of applications (over 400!) that came in, and the fact that they wish they could grant the wishes of every applicant, it is only the five finalist couples that have the opportunity.

So as an infertile, who is a proponent of voicing infertility issues, who is trying to raise awareness, I pass on the link to all of you, others in the community, who may wish to weigh in with your vote.

Which couple should win? Good question. I have my preferences of course, and my reasons for voting as I did. When I read the story snippets that are outlined on the radio station's website, there were things that jumped out at me, indicators, that said, "Yeah, I can relate to this couple." Or, "Not at all. This couple could do X, Y, or Z to get pregnant. They don't need IVF."

But I let you determine for yourselves. Who would you vote for? Go to The New HOT 89.9's website and read the information and cast your own vote. Keep in mind that the numbers of votes each couple receives is not visible. And in the end, the suitability of the couple will determine whether they receive treatment; just because they have the most number of votes doesn't mean automatically that they will receive the IVF treatments.

***** ***** ***** *****

In my world, I have a lot of things going on at the moment. Some aren't so positive. In fact... let's be honest. I have a fair sh*tstorm I'm dealing with right now. It's not fun. I'm tired. I'm frustrated. I could write pages and pages about the details, but should I? No. Probably not. Yes, it's what's affecting me at the moment; it IS my story right now. I can't say that it isn't my story to tell.

Mel's post today resonated with me. She talked about the "Shiny Happy Bloggers" and the need we feel to write only about the positive things in our lives, sometimes out of fear that someone will post a comment saying something to the effect of, "You have no right to feel this way and no right to complain. Look at how great your life is!"

I definitely feel that. While I recognize that many things in my life are so much better than others, there are things that aren't always great. There are tough times, believe it or not. I choose to write mainly about the positives, but there are days... dear God, there are days... *tears out hair* There are moments I want to scream and shout and hide away, because dealing with so much crap thrown at me is frustrating, draining, tiresome and it makes me angry. Right now, a professional thinks that I am dealing with much, much more than most people deal with. Certainly much more all at once than most people have to deal with. I'm generally a very positive person. I'm ambitious. I'm stubborn (to a fault) and I strive to make things work. I am logical and have rationale for my thoughts, ideas and actions. Usually. But sometimes, I just want to curl in a ball and make the world go away.

Then something makes me stop and think, "I have a beautiful little girl that loves me and who I love beyond words. Get over yourself." And I move on.

But that desire to curl in a ball still rears its head on occasion. This week is one of them. I don't know how much I want to write about it though. I should feel free to express myself on my own blog. One would think, right? I wish. I honestly do wish. Mel said it best:

Writing your way through your emotions is more important than pleasing a reader. Because at the end of the day, you shouldn’t care what I think. You shouldn’t be catering to me — you should be catering to you and what you need to say because YOUR blog is YOUR space.

Three Strikes, You're Out

I haven't posted much for a number of reasons. Some of which I'll get into here. Some of which I don't know how to get into.

I know I need to do a book review and giveaway; that really ought to be my next post. I've been tied up with family stuff lately and that's meant that the book review was put on the backburner. My apologies.

I'm frustrated at circumstances. And I don't know how to fix the problems that seem to be coming at me from every side right now. I don't know if they can be fixed. I'd usually write about that somewhere, like... oh... this blog. But for these issues, this is not the place. Too many of my friends and family read this (as it is an infertility blog after all, and heavens knows, we are still infertile.) But I need to get out the frustration somewhere and for me, writing is a really good way to do that However, as I tell my stepdaughter, "If you write something on the Internet, you need to imagine that it's on a 50 ft billboard in the middle of your school parking lot." And it's there for a LONG time to come. Like, forever. So no, this isn't the place to do it.

I'm angry most days. I'm trying not to be, but it's hard right now. I'm not angry at Petite. No, heavens no. That's not it at all. But I am angry. And I don't want my sweet little girl to think that her mommy is angry at her or angry all the time. That isn't fair. It's GOT to change. I'm trying to make it change... with a little help.

A few months ago, our van broke down. We had to find another vehicle and we did, although we thought (at the time) that it would just be temporary so we got something to 'make do' for a year or two. Looks like it'll be with us for a lot longer than that. *sigh*

Then the dishwasher broke down... three months out of warrantry. Nice. A service call from the large appliance repair section of an international retailer would cost over $100... and that's not even to FIX anything. We opted to wash dishes by hand, and consult with a local appliance repair company. They came, and for $60 told us that our one-year old dishwasher needs a new motor. Good Lord... you're kidding right?

Then, this past weekend, our dryer finally gave up the ghost. It's been sounding off for awhile now; I suspected the drive belt was seizing or was too brittle or something. Nope. It ain't the drive belt. Looks like it's the motor. *sigh* Now, as I posted on Facebook, I can make do with no dishwasher and do dishes by hand indefinitely. However, a clothes dryer is more crucial in Canada, given our weather. I called that ol' reliable international retailer's service department; guess what? To have a service or repair call for TWO appliances you need to pay TWO charges! How lovely. So even to come for an hour to diagnose the problem, if you have two appliances to repair, you'll pay them for two hours... or about $240. Mind you, the repair guy would have been at the house anyway for one appliance but apparently that doesn't apply. And then the phone call with this company was, ahem, conveniently disconnected. Nice. (I'm sure you can hear the sarcasm.)

Needless to say, I'm looking for a general handyman or electrician who can do some work on appliances. Ugh.

So that's the car, the dishwasher and the dryer. Bad things happen in threes right? Please universe, dear Lord, tell me that I'm done.

I've gotta be done.

NOTE: My apologies for not posting a photo last Friday; Petite's daycare was closed for the day so I was on Mommy duty all day long and didn't find much time.

**Edited to add: I grinned for a moment at Reproductive Jeans' Random Fact Friday for last week. She mentions carladderphobia. I have a bit of that. I also have RVbikerackphobia. Here's an example:

That stems from an incident in Montreal one time when an RV in the lane next to us on the highway lost three bikes off the back-mounted rack and they scattered all over the road. God knows the damage it did to the chassis of the vehicles next to and behind us; I called 911 to report it ASAP but it was too late. I don't know if anyone was injured but I do know it scared the life out of me to watch those bikes fall and wreak total havoc. Not fun.

Post By Topic

Follow the Headers to see what I'm blathering about this week...

What IF?

Many of you have heard of Resolve's current project, in conjunction with Mel's blog. "What IF" is something I'd like to touch on, but I'm going to do so during the upcoming Canadian Infertility Awareness Week (May 16-22). In the meantime, I did read the "What IF" list on Mel's blog. I took about an hour to get through it and by the time I was done, I was in tears. It's emotionally raw and so many of those What IFs touch on my own experiences with infertility. Go. Read. You will be glad that you did. My "What IF" post will be coming in the next week or so.

Baby By Stealth

Pam sent me the link to this article earlier this week. It discusses the surreptitious ways that Canadians are using to create families, because of the 2004 Assisted Human Reproduction Act. As a result, Fertility Law Leaves Us in Limbo, say doctors at infertility clinics. Until there is some sort of direction from government, you'll find a variety of procedures, protocols and responses from all of Canada's infertility clinics and each does things differently. Buyer beware, right?

Additionally, Red Flag Raised at Fertility Agency discusses the issues faced by the members of the Agency and the fact that their hands seem to be tied when it comes to legislation and seeming inability to move forward. Those who have left the Agency are under a gag order and cannot discuss particulars. There's something fishy about it all... More to come, I'm sure.

THE Day

This weekend it arrives. It's the first time I will mark the day in these shoes... as a mom of a little girl. To tell the absolute truth, I am apprehensive about it. I have spent so many years trying to push it out of my mind and wondering where I fit in, as a woman of child-bearing age, as a stepmom, as an "Aunt" to many of my friends' children, but yet, as an infertile. I love celebrating Mother's Day with my own mom (as I did last year) so I usually move the focus to her, and deservedly so. She's been a mom for almost 40 years now (more on that in a moment) and God knows, I'm thankful for her and for doing a helluva job raising me and my sister. But me? A MOM?? I still find it hard to believe most days. It's still sinking in. It may always be that way.

I find it hard to watch Mother's Day commercials, to see ads in the newspaper, to peruse the inevitable catalogues from jewelery stores that tout "Moms" and the baubles that they deserve. Are moms all that more deserving? I don't know about that. Yes, it's wonderful to be sitting on this side of the fence, and you, my longtime readers know just how grateful and blessed I am. But as a person, I'm no different than I was before I had Petite. Who is to say that because you have a child, you are thus admitted to "the club" and get the rights and privileges therein? I look at it through the eyes of an infertile, and I think I always will.

All women are deserving. Women who have had a child, women who have lost a child, women who have had a miscarriage, women who have been trying for a child, women who are sisters, daughters, aunts, friends, single... all of us. ALL OF US ARE DESERVING. So if you know a woman who isn't a mom per se (in the 'traditional' sense of the word), please make sure you consider her this Sunday. For she, like you and me, still deserves recognition, just for being the loving, caring soul that she is.

My Birthday / Mother's Day

My birthday falls about three weeks after Mother's Day. This year, I will be the dreaded 4-0. I'm really not looking forward to that. My head and my heart are stuck back in the 80s! I'm much younger than that, aren't I? Seriously?! At least, I feel like I'm in the 80s. When I look at the date on my calendar, it's a bit surreal! In any case, I have chosen to commemorate my first Mother's Day and my birthday by ordering a ring for myself. I chose a peridot ring with diamond accents. Peridot is Petite's birthstone and diamond is my husband's birthstone. I hope it's as nice as it looks online. If so, I'll take a pic and show you. It should be here in about two weeks.

Stupid 'Friends'

Okay, you've been warned. There's a rant incoming...

Sometimes I wonder about my so-called 'friends.' Honestly. The asinine statements (or lack of any statement altogether) is just astounding. A dim-witted friend blurted out her pregnancy to me the other day, after a few months of TTC for #2. She has done nothing but focus on her all-day sickness ever since. I could thwap her upside the head. Can I 'unfriend' her on Facebook? Might be a thought.

Actually, there are a few folks I probably ought to 'unfriend.' Like the friend who made sure I was invited to a shower, but not to any milestone events her child has had since. Or the friend who "promised(!)" that she'd come visit and meet Petite during her own year-long maternity leave... and I haven't heard from her since October. Or the friend who moved to a new home in the summer of last year, and hasn't called, e-mailed, or seen me since, despite protests that I "had to see her new place!" The friend who had a birthday in the fall, and whom I invited out for dinner... and who never responded to me first nor last. The friend who lived with us for ages, who was living in our home during the IF protocol, who moved to her own place and who hasn't yet made any effort whatsoever to meet our daughter. The friend who was very close to me for a few years, and who decided to stop communicating with me only to recommence communicating, yet didn't bother to even ask about my recent surgery or see if I was doing okay and with whom I've had minimal contact during the last month or so. Some friend huh? And many of these people don't even bother to send a freakin' Christmas card? Seriously, where the f*ck do I find them? Cripes. I dunno. Is it me? I've half a mind to tell them all where to get off! Can I do that and still call myself a decent person? Sometimes I wonder.

Upcoming Visits

My sister is coming to visit me later this month. She hasn't seen Petite since the baby was one month old! There's been a lot of changes since then! She'll see quite a difference, I'm sure. And my mom is coming back while my sis is here. It's cheaper for them to meet here than for either of them to visit the other. So I get the benefit of seeing them both. I look forward to it.

Baby... what now?!

Oh yes, before I forget... I'm so thrilled to report on the progress by a local IF friend. She went to McGill last year (on my recommendation re: cost) and while IVM didn't work for her, IVF has. She found out a couple of weeks ago that she was pregnant with twins! And moreso, last week at her 10w ultrasound, they saw a third heartbeat! Baby C was hiding behind Baby A, so they're hoping to welcome triplets. Having tried for seven years to have a child, they're hoping not to have to entertain the idea of reduction, but they're well aware of the problems carrying triplets can cause. So Journey, my thoughts and love are with you and E as you get through one day at a time. Hang in there honey! You CAN do this!

Petite's Development

She's found the cat toys. She can crawl to them in the blink of an eye. She's mastered sippy cups (when she wants to!) and she is a social butterfly, just like her great-grandmother. She's a wonderful eater and has discovered blueberry dessert! She hates to go to sleep and usually wakes up in full throttle scream, be it day or night, in my arms or in her crib, cool or warm weather, whatever. God knows why, but I wish that would change. And still not a tooth in her head!

And we have found a caregiver for her for the fall. A most wonderful woman who comes highly recommended and who even takes the time to fill out a daily report for the younger children re: what they do, what they eat, how long they sleep, etc. during the day. I will be taking Petite there during the summer now and then to let her get to know the caregiver, and vice versa. Hopefully that will minimize stress and separation anxiety in the fall. It's going to be a busy summer.

Love to you all in blogland! Until next time!

IPS Results

For the clinically minded, here are the details of our IPS results.

AFP level = 10.9 ug/L (0.54 MoM... low)
uE3 level = 2.47 nmol/L (1.02 MoM... normal)
Total hCG level = 28.7 kiu/L (1.45 MoM... high)
NT measurement = 1.7 mm (1.06 MoM... normal)
PAPP-A level = 0.38 iu/L (0.39 MoM... low)

The low AFP, the high hCG and the low PAPP-A give us the 1:75 risk.

I also know that a higher hCG level is frequently present in women who've undergone IVF.

Additionally, my high TSH (thyroid) levels might throw this out of whack. And I've not yet had the OGTT so any blood sugar problems might throw it out of whack too. I'm still worried for Tuesday and until I get these results back, it's going to be really hard to concentrate on doing anything to prepare for Petit's arrival.

For all I know, Tuesday may be the last day I get to see Petit at all... as there is a chance of miscarriage following an amnio. Before that needle goes in, I am going to have a photo of our baby in my hands; it may be the last one I get.

Four Days of Hell to Get Through

Hubby and I managed to get an appointment this afternoon for a session with a genetics counsellor. We have an update as well; instead of 1:50, our chances are 1:75 (my weight had not been added to the calculation). Still, I don't like those odds and anything less than 1:200 they offer an amnio to delve a little deeper.

Now that I've heard these results, I'm thinking, "Buttered side down, we always land on the shitty side of the statistics. I need to know." So yes, I need to know.

The amnio is scheduled for Tuesday morning. I've been advised to take the day off work and rest afterwards. I know what happened to Manuela (bless her) and I'm scared to death that the amnio will result in a miscarriage. But I still need to know.

Until Tuesday, I have to deal with this and find a way to put it out of my mind. Sorry Aurelia, I'm not up to discussing the finite intracacies of this; my brain has already dealt the cards in my mind and regardless of our 98.5% chance of having 'normal' results, I am not going to be at ease until we get results in our hands. They will try to do RAD testing (available in 1 week or less) as well as the full testing (available in 2-3 weeks) so I just have to sit on edge and wait.

It's going to be a very long, trying, stressful couple of weeks. And no, I don't need that. But that is what I'm faced with. Thank you all for your positive thoughts; just knowing that you are out there thinking of me makes a difference. I think I'm going to hibernate til Tuesday, because I'm terrified to do anything else.

The Other Shoe

Fuck.

Fuck fuck.

Fuckity fuck fuck.

I don't know what to say right now.

Last week at my OB appointment, I was told that based on the results of the IPS, they would get back to me in two weeks (thus, negative screen and nothing to worry about) or, they would get back to me in one week (thus, positive screen, and cause for worry).

Yeah.

I heard from them today.

Based solely on my age, and no other factors, I would be 1:120 for the risk of Down Syndrome.

Something in my bloodwork has increased my odds; I'm standing at 1:50. That's a 2% chance.

I'm terrified. And I'm supposed to call genetic counselling tomorrow to make an appointment for an amniocentesis at the local children's hospital.

Fuckity fuck fuck. I just knew the other shoe would drop. I can't think. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can barely breathe. I am absolutely terrified and I don't know where to turn...

Nervous

I am trying my best not to focus on the ultrasound that I'm supposed to have at 8:30 tomorrow morning. It's the 'viability' scan that will determine a number of things.

• Is there actually an embryo in there or is the sac empty? Is there a fetal pole? If there isn't, tomorrow is going to be a super rough day. I'm glad hubby is going to be able to come with me.
• If there is an embryo in there, will the heartbeat be good enough? Will we be able to see a heartbeat at all at 6 weeks 6 days? I would think so, but I'm still nervous.
• And if there is an embryo, is there just one? Or are we looking at *gulp* multiples? Like hubby says, "One is great. Two and we'll do okay. Three and I'm going to need therapy!" (I say just one; beta numbers seem to indicate only one anyway.)

Regardless, I'm so nervous about tomorrow and I am terrified to walk into the local RE's office and have that ultrasound.

One foot in front of the other, right? In the meantime, I'm saying tons of prayers for good luck tomorrow.

Congrats to Vee and Max on being right ahead of me and having seen a heartbeat this week! I'm so thrilled for them both!

9dp3dt

I am not going to make it til Thursday. Guaranteed.

I'm a total, emotional mess, alternating between tears, anger, disgust, hatred, extreme joy and happiness.

In short, I'm not myself and this 2ww is killing me. I want to POAS but I'm terrified to do that. I just want to curl up and hide away for the next month. Would that be okay? So I can just bypass the sheer grief that I know Thursday is holding for me?

Shoot me now. Save me the pain. Please.

Buttered Side Down

I don't know where to begin this entry. The thoughts in my head are so jumbled and mixed with intense emotion; none of it good.

I went for my pre-stim scan this morning and I was nervous and anxious as I slid up onto that table for my appointment with the dildo-cam. The RE asked me, "How are you doing?" and my honest reply was, "I really don't know."

So for the semi-decent news:
Lining measuring 5.3 mm on CD6.
On the left, five little follicles just hanging out.
On the right, at least three little follicles doing much the same thing.
But that's not all.

No. Not for me. Never! It wouldn't do just to have happy little follies kicking back and waiting for the Gonal-F and the Luveris, would it? No Gil. You get more! You get the full freakin' monty!

Right there, in all its huge glory was a cyst.
A honking big cyst measuring over 3.5 cm in diametre.

And we all know what that means right? *adopts game announcer voice* Tell the young lady what she's won Johnny!
Well now, to start off, I am pretty sure you've won a cancelled cycle Gil! Congratulations! And there's a bonus prize of having another laparoscopy to boot to aspirate that cyst! And then, when all that is done, you get to go back on the BCPs to start all over again! Woo hoo!

I couldn't believe it. A cyst. Another cyst. It didn't respond to the BCPs that I was taking (similar to my previous cyst on the right side three years ago). So that likely means that it'll take a lap to remove it. Nice. Just what I wanted.

Then, because there was a cyst found, the orders were to have my E2 measured so that meant bloodwork. I went down to the lab in the same building and I found a GREAT woman there (Karen!) who saw how distressed I was. She told me to have hope. She hugged me. She saw the tears in my eyes and the frazzled look on my face. She was sweet. And she got a vein on the first stick (admittedly I showed here where was best to stick based on My Angel's success with that area on my forearm).

When that stress was done, I had the pleasure of shelling out just over $2200 for my Gonal-F and Luveris, which luckily doesn't expire until sometime in 2010. I came right home to stick the sensitive meds in the fridge.

And now I wait.

I wait for the ultrasound results to be sent to Montreal.
I wait for the bloodwork results to be sent to Montreal.
I wait for Montreal to call and tell me that my cycle is cancelled. (It will be I'm sure. We all know how this goes... but I have to wait for the official word from them on this.)
I wait for Montreal to tell me when they can do a lap for the cyst and when they need me for pre-op stuff... assuming they will take me at all.
I wait for something GOOD to come of this. But I really don't see a silver lining. Not at all.

Right now, I am angry. I am stressed. I confess, (and if you are religious, I apologize in advance) I hate that God is throwing roadblocks in my way. I hate that He obviously deems me unfit to parent. On my way back from the doctor's I wondered why He didn't just take me now and get it all over with. Christ, wouldn't that be easier??

I hate that I have to go through this at all. None of this should be this way. None of it. Ever. And this morning, I hated the fact that I had to go through all this alone this morning.

Like I said in my last post, seems I am the bread that always lands buttered side down on the floor. And so it continues...

I need a virtual bar. Now.

I'm getting back in the swing of things at the office following my return from Newfoundland. It was lovely to see the folks and to spend time at Cape Spear, go to Middle Cove, have proper fish and chips, and all that good stuff. Of course, it's also accompanied by the recognition of changes in my family each time I go home now. Seeing my mom and dad get older. Watching them try to do the things that used to come so easily and quickly... and now things take time. Seeing them slow down is tough I guess. I mean, realistically you know it has to happen, but you always hope you can prolong it. Just a little more. Hope that you don't have to see it in YOUR parents... that sort of thing. In the last few years, I've debated moving back home. I haven't ruled it out yet, but you can be certain there are no opportunities for IUI or IVF in Newfoundland. The closest in Nova Scotia, and that would be rather costly on a repeated basis. That's for sure.

Back here in Canada's capital, it's downright chilly today. Yesterday hubby and I hung the Christmas lights. No, they're not turned on, but they're up! It's so much easier to put them up when it isn't -5 outside! Brrr! Would you believe I saw my first snowflakes of the season today? Winter's coming fast! And here I am with NOT ONE CHRISTMAS CARD DONE! I'd better get a move on.

In the office this week, I talked with one of my co-workers. He and his wife (she's my age, 37) have been married for quite awhile. They had decided before getting married that they weren't going to have a family. Well, as they grow a little older, they are rethinking that plan. But his wife still doesn't want/need to experience the whole "being P" thing. So they are looking into adoption with the Children's Aid Society. They've been to an information session and have the package of documents that they now have to fill out. They're considering taking a sibling pair, either same or opposite sex. I would like to pick his brain a little more (in private) about how the process works and more to the point, how did they, as a couple, come to that decision. What fears and concerns did they have and how did they resolve them before getting to that point?

I've been asked (as many of us have), "Well, why don't you just adopt? There are so many children in the world looking for a home." I don't know why we haven't looked into it. Something tells me it isn't our route. I can't explain it really; but it's just not calling to me. It's not something I can see myself doing, but again, I don't know why exactly. Very hard to explain. And very hard to understand. And if I can't understand it myself, then what is stopping me at all? Tough questions. I dunno if I have the answers.

And where are we with the IVF stuff? Nowhere. Not at all. I haven't made any decisions. I haven't gone for bloodwork. I haven't thought about "what next" because it scares the bejeesus outta me. I am so afraid to take that next step. You cannot imagine. (Okay, maybe some of you can. But right now, it seems overwhelming and immense to me.) If I make the decision to try, and fail, I will be devastated, with little support around me. If I make the decision to not try, it's a 50-50 thought: part of me will regret and always say, "I should have tried it" and the other part of me can justify it and say, "So it could theoretically have worked (and thus I'm not a total failure)." That is huge in my mind for some reason. Why? I don't know. But it's immense.

I'll tell you what's immense: hubby and I are going to a girlfriend's 30th birthday party tomorrow. Said girlfriend, myself, and one or two others who will be there are in the IF boat and have tried IUI more than once with no success. We're on the rollercoaster. Still. And yet, tomorrow evening, one of my former co-workers and her husband will be in attendance... accompanied by their six-week old infant.

Now I know it isn't fair to the new parents to ask them to leave such a young child at home. And rationally, I know it's silly of me to want to avoid this new young family. But I do. Yet I WANT to go to my girlfriend's party! Dammit, I do NOT want this to control my life. But it seems to, far too often. I talked to my girlfriend tonight (she and her husband made sure I was aware this infant would be there, God love them for their sensitivity and knowing I need to be prepared). I told her that hubby and I would be there, and the duration of our stay would really depend on how I felt and how well I would be able to handle it all. She understands, of course. I just hate that my brain stops to dwell on this at all. "Normal" people don't think twice about it, do they? I know I wouldn't have in my pre-IF days. In fact, I would probably have been excited to see the baby. But now? Eeesh.

Hand me the rum. I think I'm gonna need a drink to get through this. Pull up a stool and share. I'm not sure about Mel's bar, but this one is open.

Where do I belong?

I'm not sure what to say here anymore. I guess that's why I've been absent... But to Pam and Marie, thank you for checking on me. I'm sorry I haven't been able to be here more. I'm just finding things very hard to deal with right now.

I feel like there is a club of bloggers and once upon a time, I felt that I was part of that club of people... like I fit in and I belonged. Fair enough, I belonged to that club because I'm infertile and TTC, but it was a club nonetheless. And support is a good thing.

And now I don't feel that I belong at all.

I see all of you moving forward, doing things, taking control and being active. Cycling, taking meds, planning for the next pieces of the puzzle, etc., but I'm not feeling like I belong anymore because I'm not doing any of those things. I'm firmly in *cue booming voice* limbo-land. And Limbo-land sucks. I have no idea when I'll do my bloodwork (in the next month or two I guess) and although I am going to the gym or swimming in my pool as well as watching what I eat, I don't know if my efforts to lose weight will pay off. And if they don't, well, I'll be turned down flat for IVF.

Everything else in my life I have tried to achieve, I have gotten there. I have grabbed the brass ring and run with it. This? This just beats me down and I don't know if I want to bother to get up again because I know I'll only be beaten down, yet again. I may as well just stay down for the count, you know?

And then there are the social ramifications. Last Saturday I had to take my kitties to the vet's office. We go in and there's a couple of women there with their doggies, waiting to see the veterinarian. I took a chair next to a young woman with a four-month old boxer who promptly decided to give my hands a bath. I petted him a bit while his owner told me of the little boxer's accident (running into a metal frame on the screen door; his eye was badly damaged), and she and I chatted a bit.

In chatting, she tells me something about her eight-year old daughter and her boyfriend. Jeez, this woman is all of MAYBE twenty-six. And as I'm tending to my mewing kitties who are desperate for attention, this woman sits up and rubs her (now visible) pregnant belly and says (as if speaking to the baby), "Ohh, don't start, I had breakfast!" She looks at me and says, "Kids huh? I'm only four months but this one is just rough!"

What do you say to that?!! Seriously!? I mean, I could be nice and brush it off, saying, "Oh yes. I'm sure." I could be truthful and say something like, "I wouldn't know." I could pretend and say, "Oh yes! I know what you're talking about." Or I could be downright grumpy and say, "I guess so. But I'd really rather not hear about it because I'm infertile." What I wanted to do was stand up and scream "SHUT UP B*TCH! I don't f*cking want to hear about your baby problems. I don't have kids and I don't know if I ever will and here's your ass at all of mid-20 years old and you're cooking your SECOND!!?? Just SHUT UP!!!"

But I didn't do any of that. I just sat there and said nothing. What DO you say? What CAN you say? How do you educate a stranger or do you even bother? *sighs* What's the point?

Then yesterday, I broke down in the evening after a dentist's appointment. It's all bad enough that I have so much trouble at the dentist's office in the first place because my teeth are so hypersensitive it takes a number of shots to numb my nerves enough to be able to work on my teeth. And I need to hyperdose on antibiotics before I see a dentist for ANY work because of a heart murmur that could cause problems. But added to that, of course even the dentist's assistant knows of our TTC attempts, because after three or four years of all this, it's hard to schedule cleanings or dental work (and take antibiotics) when you're cycling and not knowing WHEN you'll be taking what medications.

I get to the dentist's office and sit down in the chair and the first thing his assistant says to me is, "So any good news?" She's definitely referring to TTC. I can see it in her eyes. I just replied, "No," and avoided her gaze. She says, "None? How's it going?" And I said, "It's not." In this annoyingly perky voice she pipes up, "What about Montreal? Have you heard from them yet?" Sullen, I replied, "No, but we'll put our names on the list when the tests are all done. It'll take a few months." She pats my shoulder sympathetically and says, "It'll be all right. It'll work out. You'll get lucky. I know it!" And choking back the tears I barely managed to whisper, "I don't have hope anymore. I just don't think so."

And it went downhill from there.


On August 7, hubby and I celebrate our third wedding anniversary. We've been together for seven years, but only married for three. Hell, we started the TTC process long before we got married. Anyway, we were in the bedroom making the bed and I said to him, "Next week is our anniversary. What do you want to do?" He looks up and says, "I don't know, go out for dinner?" "Meh," I replied, "we could, but that's boring. I want to go somewhere. I want to do something fun. I want to have some time with you." (He and I haven't taken a vacation together when it's just been the two of us since March of 2003. Usually, we're flying somewhere to see my family, which is good, don't get me wrong, but it's nice to have some "us" time too.) With the strains on our marriage and relationship from all this stress and effort, we need time to reconnect. And we always have fun together on vacations.

I gave it a day or so, and mulled it all over. I thought, "Montreal? Québec City? Toronto? New York? Hmm..." And then it dawned on me. Next weekend is Fan Faire in Las Vegas, as hosted by Sony Online Entertainment for the online game that we both play, EverQuest II. We have friends who are going to be there (never met them, but they're good online friends nonetheless, much like many of you are). We would have a chance to enjoy the MMORPG world a little with like-minded folks. We would get to kick back and relax, indulging in a little fun. We would get to rediscover the spark of our relationship and the myriad of reasons why we love each other. Why not? Why not just go?!

Hubby and I often say that all the procedures in the world, all of these TTC efforts and the pain it puts us through are NOT worth it in the long run if it means that our marriage is on the rocks. Staying together is paramount in this. At least, that is my choice. And that's his too. So that is what we work on. Us.

Then I debated it because of the cost. But when I got to work the other morning, I found a cheque on my desk to supplement my last paycheque because I'm now in the Manager's shoes, and that includes a pay raise. I had a full HALF of the money right in my hands that day. That was a sign. A sign to spend a little time and money on ourselves and our closeness.

Last night, we booked the trip.

We leave next Thursday for four days, but that's better than nothing. And I'm really looking forward to it. At least there's some blue sky in my world.

How I Cope

I spent Friday night in tears. Four hours of tears to be exact. I've hidden away for most of the weekend; I don't really want to see anyone or do anything right now.

The results of my bloodwork from last week taken on CD24, aka 10DPO.
TSH = 3.16
LH = 0.9
FSH = <1.0
Estradiol = 278 (aka 75.75 for the Americans in the audience)
Progesterone = 24
HCG = 2

Yeah, that's right. TWO. Talk about a failure. A royal f*cking failure. This crap shoot sucks and the odds are definitely stacked against me. I'm exhausted.

In the last four or five days, I've done the following (in no particular order):

-- Brought up sperm donor possibilities with an online friend in California, whose wife gave birth to their twins four years ago in her late 30s. Apparently he is seriously considering it. He knows a bit about what I'm going through and the emotional ups and downs it entails. He wished he could make it better. I replied that he could, but not necessarily for me. I said that there are many women out there, in the situation that I'm in, who would love to have the opportunity to have a family. And it takes help from loving, giving, selfless people like him, who are willing to go through the process. He said he wants to do his part and promised to look into it. I gave him the names of two sperm banks out there; I told him to discuss it with his wife and if they think that they are comfortable making donations, then I encouraged him to give some woman somewhere, a little bit of hope.

-- Thought seriously about having a hysterectomy. I mean honestly, why bother with all this? If my ovaries and eggs don't cooperate, why have them? I'm still sitting on the fence with this. Which would be cheaper, IVF or a hysterectomy? Or just suffer in silence until natural menopause? Hmm, something to think about.

-- Considered a new mantra: Control what you can. Anyone who knows me in real life (as opposed to online) knows that I am a severe Type A personality with some OCD tendencies... especially considering my hand-washing post. Now to focus that concentration in a place where it will do the most good and a place that I have never focused on (to this degree) before. I, my dear readers, am overweight. Severely. And I despise myself and the way I look. My self-esteem is in the toilet and probably always has been. When it comes to my brain, I know I'm relatively intelligent, but God forbid you put me out in public. I'm as shy as anything and it's all because of my weight. So if we actually do go ahead with looking at IVF (and that's a big "if" right now), then I know that any office is going to tell me to lose 40-60 pounds first. I'm back at the gym, and taking out my anger and frustration on the elliptical machine and/or the treadmill. At this point, I don't care if burning 400+ calories per day makes me thinner or not; but at least it gets the anger out. These days, I have a LOT of anger. I wonder why...

-- Talked a little to hubby who offered the following insight: in all this negativity, in all this miserable lot, in all this pain and grief, there is one teeny, tiny sliver of hope. VERY VERY tiny though it may be. And that is this: If we proceed with IVF, if we get through the testing and find the money and get right down to it, we will try to use TESE. And what that means, dear readers, is that there MAY be a way for me to have my husband's child after all. And that would be wonderful.

Other
I want to partake in Patience's Virtual World Tour. I'll dig out some pics and post later this week.

And congratulations to Ms. C over at It Could Take Three Months who also got a BFP this go around. With so many of you coming up positive, no wonder no one else gets a kick at the proverbial can! Kidding! Kidding! I am really happy that five of my blogging sidebar buddies have come up positive this month. June/July has been good to many of you.

Much love to you all. See you soon.

The Great Cake Day

Today is Mel's Great Cake Day. In honour of today, I thought I'd post a pic of a special cake, our wedding cake. Unfortunately, hubby and I are in the pic though. Sorry to ruin a good pic of a cake. But here you go.



We still have a great deal of this cake frozen in our freezer. There's a tradition that we have (huh, funny how our traditions seem to refer to food all the time; see Pancake Day Traditions for another one) that requires you to keep a portion of your wedding cake to eat on your first wedding anniversary. I've also heard that you eat a portion of it when you have your firstborn's christening. Let's just say I'm not holding my breath to fulfill THAT one.

This cake was baked by my Aunt L after many trial and error attempts. The thickness had to be just right. The circumference had to be perfect. And I knew she would do it wonderfully. It is my favourite cake and when I introduced hubby to it, he agreed, hands down, that it would be our wedding cake. (Well, one of two. Long story!) In case you'd like to bake this cake yourselves, here is the recipe. It's usually a hit when I bring it to office events and the like.
**************************
Apricot and Raisin Cake

First, prepare the fruit mixture…
INGREDIENTS
2 cups of water
¼ cup sugar
½ cup raisins
½ cup dried apricots (snipped into tiny pieces)

METHOD
1. Bring these ingredients to a boil.
2. Reduce heat and cover.
3. Simmer 15 to 20 mins.
4. Drain and let cool.

Then prepare the cake batter…
INGREDIENTS
1 cup butter (softened)
8 oz. package of cream cheese
1¼ cups white sugar
4 eggs
1½ tsp. white vanilla
2¼ cups flour
1½ tsp. baking powder

METHOD
1. Cream butter and cream cheese well.
2. Gradually add sugar and continue to beat well. (Batter should be almost white and light.)
3. Add eggs one at a time and continue beating.
4. Add vanilla.
5. Add flour and baking powder.
6. Stir in fruit mixture.
7. Turn batter into a greased tube pan for baking.

Bake at 300° (F) for 65 to 70 mins.
**************************

Anyway, when hubby and I were married in August 2004, we had many hopes and dreams. As we cut this cake, we believed in ourselves, our love and our future. We believed that the whole TTC thing would work out. Well, it hasn't. Today, I feel hurt, jaded, angry, doubtful and frustrated. I have no hope whatsoever that this cycle will work. None. Zip. Zilch. Nada. I may as well go buy myself a bottle of Captain Morgan now.

For those of you wondering, I did ask my RE to do a reference for us to MTL. We chose MTL for a few reasons: proximity, cost, and affiliation with our RE's office. (No, our RE doesn't do IVF or ICSI. He's just one man in one office doing the best he can for most folks who only need IUIs.) We'll see where it goes. If in the future, Ontario decides to foot the bill for IVF, then we can look at coming back to Ontario. Until then, for cost-efficiency, MTL is the place we'll go.

This morning, we saw 5-6 little follicles on the screen, one dominant at over 7mm. The others ranging from 4-6mm. And the endometrium is thin (as I would expect on CD8). He gave me a shot of Pure.gon and I have an appointment on Thursday. This is our last kick at the can before pulling out the big guns. I need all the luck, wishes and prayers I can get. I really want to be able to have a piece of our wedding cake on the day of our child's christening.

Off the Rails

Deli meats? Check.
Soft cheeses? Check.
Alcohol? Check.
Heavy lifting? Check.
Bending, stretching and pulling muscles? Check.
Stressing out (not about IF-related stuff)? Check.


All hope lost? Check. Double check in fact.

This rollercoaster is plummeting fast. Wind whipping my hair and sheer terror on my face cause I know the coaster is going to go right off the rails any moment.

I f*cking hate infertility. But you probably knew that.

DIUI #3 (aka Third time's a charm?)

With the arrival of AF and her smelly carpet bag last week, I heaved a sigh and picked up my phone. I contacted my RE's office on Friday and discussed my thoughts on the upcoming cycle. Today is CD4, and I started taking Clomid (well, Serophene) last night on CD3. On Friday, I go to the RE for a scan of the follies and (hopefully) to start the Pure.gon injections. Sub-cue FTW! Blech. It'll be lovely to see my belly dotted with bruises again; I'm SO looking forward to that. NOT. Mind you, I get to start those fun injections after a stop on Thursday afternoon at the ob/gyn's office for my annual PAP.

The ob/gyn (Dr. HandsomeBrit) is the same doctor who did my laparoscopy last April to remove the cyst from my right ovary. He is so caring and sweet. You know how you have some docs who are all business and just rush you in and out, barely taking the time to talk to you, and you feel like you're on a conveyor belt of (in)effeciency at their offices? Well, this guy is NOT like that. He's the hand-holding, sympathizing, talk-to-you-for-40-minutes-to-reassure-you-if-you-need-it type of doctor. He's a rare breed, and I'm glad he's in my city.

While I am very glad for that, I am also feeling a lot of sadness around seeing him later this week. You see, last year, after my lap last April, he followed up with me and proclaimed everything was great. The cyst was gone, there are no signs of endometriosis, my uterus was "lovely" according to him. He ended our appointment by saying, "Gil, I would be pleased to follow you through any pregnancy. Good luck with the IUIs." He smiled and sent me back to my RE for the next round. I went on my merry way, AF followed like clockwork, and that VERY next cycle, I had a chemical p/g and miscarried at about 5 weeks. So when I go back to the doc this week, some part of me will be thinking, "I should have had a three-month old baby with me." *sigh*

On another note, I talked to my mom last night. I try to call her every Sunday. My entire family is very far away from me, yet we are very close. As we were chatting last night, the conversation turned to our income tax and the refunds hubby and I will be getting this time around. All told, we ought to see some $1800 back. Not bad. Mom said, "So what are you going to do with the money?" I remained vague and said, "Oh, I'm sure we can find something to do with it." Mom replied, "It's already earmarked is it? I think you should take it and go on a trip." I shook my head and spoke, hedging a little. "No, it'll probably be a lot more mundane than that. Like paying off bills or something." Mom said, "You two deserve to have some fun with it. Enjoy it." I am sure my voice got rather quiet and I told her, "Mom, we're probably just going to save that to go towards IVF." I could hear the sadness in her voice as she spoke, "Oh, you're looking at that, are you honey?" It was all I could do not to cry. I sucked back the tears and managed to continue our conversation.

And that touched off a brief discussion of IVF, adoption, costs of both procedures, options, etc. I won't get into it all here, but suffice it to say, I am slowly reaching the end of my rope. Hubby and I have picked donors for the next few rounds if needs be. But I am not sure how much more we can do. I just don't know.

Right now, I'm just trying to focus on this week, taking my meds as I'm supposed to, and preparing to do the renovation work in one of our guest rooms. Anything to keep me busy. And I'm reading your blogs and sending much love to all of you.

Aaaannnndddd... WHAMMO! Here she is.

The haggard old bag has arrived. I tried ignoring the doorbell; I tried pushing her back out. H*ll, I even thought about moving so she couldn't find me. Alas. For all her shortcomings, AF has a bloody brilliant sense of direction; she found me. She waltzed in very late last night, crotchety as can be, and threw her stinky, smelly, tattered, old carpet bag on my floor. Just in time to ruin my weekend too. Nice.

BFN it is. Mel, I think I need a double at your virtual bar. Oh, h*ll with it. Just pass the bottle. And the tissues.

Thinking About the Future

I'm at the end of my 2ww, for those of you counting, but no POAS here. Nuh uh. I don't do that. IF (and that's a rather HUGE "if") I make it to Saturday, I MAY indulge, but there are no guarantees I can actually bring myself to do that. I'm just trying to take one day at a time. H*ll, right now, one hour at a time is quite enough. It's touch and go.

I'm much of the mind of Serenity when she describes her AF. My AF used to be cool. She used to be easygoing and if not fun, at least she wasn't a drag. She hung out for a few days, talked about makeup and boys, got me to try on outrageous makeup and have poofy 80s hair. These days though, she's a haggard old bag. I picture her in tatters, disheveled grey hair, a lopsided hat with a broken flower bent in the rim, wrinkled skin and yellowed nails as she stands at my door and scratches her sagging breasts, cigarette hanging from her mouth with a haze of blue smoke round her head, and in a scratchy voice she bellows in a drawn-out "New Yawk" accent (no offense to the New Yorkers who may read), "Yeah, whaddya want? I'm here, I'm here. Move over, move over. Comin' through."

I dread her arrival as I know many of us do. Yet I do my best to put on a happy face and just endure her visit, hoping each month that that is the last I see of her for awhile. I hope her sorry ass doesn't see my front door for months on end. I hope she loses her torn and battered carpet bag on her travels. I hope that she stops for cigs next time and misses a bus. Better yet, that she gets on the wrong bus and ends up on the other end of the country. I hope for all of these things. But somehow I'm never surprised when I open my door and whammo! There she is.

Anyway, yesterday between fortune cookies (see previous post) and doing our taxes (yay for refunds!), hubby and I discussed a few things with regard to this miserably long and bumpy road we're on. Screw the bumpy. Let's call it h*llish. That's what it is right? Just h*llish. Our discussions began with the "what ifs" that we all go through from time to time. If, at the end of all of this, we are not lucky; if we do not have the opportunity to have children, what then? Where do we pour our energy, our time, our emotions and our money? Will we travel? Will we invest? Will we do nothing but upgrade our current home and go about our daily grind? Will we find other hobbies or activities? Cause, yanno, we're gamers but we can't game forever. Will we find a way to be happy without children? Is that a possibility? Can we imagine our lives like that? So many questions. I've recently started to ponder the answers to them and the thing is, when I do, fear grips me. I've never imagined that I would NOT have children. When I envisaged my life, I never pictured life as part of a couple forever. I always pictured children. I've had dreams for many years in fact in which I clearly see myself with children; twins to be exact. I've seen that in my life for so many years I'd accepted that as normal. Something that I was destined to have. It's all very surreal actually. So how do I reframe my life and be happy with it? There's something to mull over I suppose.

After we finished the taxes, we'd agreed to go looking at the two companies my RE works with for donor sperm samples again. Cause, you know, we'd only purchased three vials and we've only got one vial left if this month is a no-go. We'd better line up our options. Wouldn't you know it? Our donor isn't available at the moment. *sigh* So we have to go through the process again and find another one, just in case. I'm narrowing down the list. This time, I think we're going to choose someone with more of my characteristics than my husband's.

There's often two camps of thought on that: either you choose someone who is CLOSE to your partner's characteristics, and thus hope that the children are a relatively good physical representative of what would have been your biological children; or you choose someone who is close to the mother's characteristics, thereby hopefully ensuring that the children are a good representative of the mother's physical characteristics. Last time we chose someone with hubby's characteristics (hair colour, eye colour, skin tone, height, weight, interests, background, etc.) but hubby encouraged me to look for someone that is more like me this time. There's no rush. We just want to keep that option open if we need to order more samples.

For now, we wait and hope. And we keep the box of tissues handy.