Date With An Angel

Now is not your time, little one
Though it seemed your life had just begun.
I've learned before about these things
Sometimes even the tiniest angels get their wings.
~ Part of a poem written by Sarah Kelly

I have been dreading this day for quite awhile. I mourned the loss of my baby when my miscarriage happened and I am mourning the loss all over again.

Today, July 31st, is the due date of my second angel baby.

It was so hard for me to believe when I lost the first baby last August and I never ever imagined that just a few months later I would be faced with yet another loss...another child taken away from me. Two babies gone in the blink of an eye, and all I had left to remember them by were their ultrasound pictures. Of course, forever etched in our minds is the memory of seeing those flickering heartbeats on the screen, but the shiny paper ultrasound images are the only tangible things I still have.

To tell you the truth (and, you know I will), I would really like to forget most of last year (2008). However, that would mean me forgetting that I was going to be a mommy again (even if it was only for a brief moment in time), and I don’t want to do that…you know, forget. And then I realize, how could I ever forgot? You don’t ever forget.

In fact, I have always wanted a way to be able to honor and remember my angel babies. For months, I tried to figure out what would help me do that. Then one day, I checked the mail, grabbed the pile inside my mailbox and came across a catalog that mainly promoted address labels.

Normally, I chalk such catalogs off as junk mail and trash them immediately, but, well, just between us here, I really had to use the bathroom and so after I got inside the house I grabbed this catalog as a “quick read”...now c’mon, don’t act like you all haven’t done the same thing because I know you have...LOL!

Anyway, as I was flicking through the pages, there it was…the perfect something I was looking for and I had finally found it. See…

There among the pages of address labels and what-nots was this beautiful statue. How absolutely appropriate. This statue captured exactly how I want to always picture my babies...resting in angel's wings.

I shared what I had found in the catalog with Michael and he too thought it was just perfect, so I ordered it. We plan on burying the pictures of our babies in a special spot in our front flower bed and marking it with this sweet angel baby.

I know we have all heard it before...grief takes time. Unfortunately, there is no definitive time line in dealing with grief - no set beginning and no set end. It's different for different people, and one needs to move on at one's own pace. Although on the outside (to my friends and family) I may seem just fine, on the inside there's a part of me that still feels empty.

All these months later, I still can't tell you that I have found closure. There's never closure when you lose a child no matter the circumstances. But in some small way, this precious statue has helped me to find a certain peace within. Looking at it reminds me of the Bible verse found in Exodus 23:20 (NIV). "See, I am sending an angel ahead of you to guard you along the way and to bring you to the place I have prepared."

I still don't know what's in store for us as far as conceiving, but I do know I will see my babies again. Just knowing that does bring a smile to my face despite my heart feeling so very heavy on a day like today.

Most importantly, I absolutely KNOW that my future is in God's hands and I will trust in His word..."For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

What a wonderful promise.

Anti-green?

So I’m not anti-green in the sense that I intentionally only buy things made out of non-biodegradable plastic and go around wearing a baseball cap like this, but I guess you could say I am totally guilty of being anti-green when it comes to my over abundant use of paper.

Case in point…

This morning when I was dutifully writing down my basal body temperature (BBT), I accidentally knocked the folder to the ground that had all of my BBT charts in it. Oh, my gosh! When I glanced at the pile on my kitchen floor (and no, they did not neatly arrange themselves as you see in the picture below), I realized that if I lined the charts up end to end, I could practically lead a path from the kitchen to the living room! I mean, just look at all this paper.

What you can’t see is that each chart also has two more sheets of paper attached to it with the countless number of ovulation and pregnancy test strips (also made out of paper by the way) for each month I have been trying to conceive.

How many trees have I killed in my efforts to try and get pregnant?

Okay, I know that you know I have said much of the above in jest, but what isn’t funny is the painful truth that when I look at all of these charts on the floor, it just reinforces the fact that month-after-month-after-month I am still not pregnant and I have no child to show for this huge paper pile of charting faithfulness.

Sometimes this trying to conceive thing can get really overwhelming and this morning’s mishap sort of reinforced that fact when I saw these past 16 months laying there before me.

Don’t worry, I’ll be fine though. Heck, I’ve gotten so used to this routine by now. And, yep, tomorrow morning I’ll be right there with pen in hand to record my temp on this month’s chart.

Can I ask you all a favor though? Just please warn me if you happen to see the green peace police knocking at my door with an arrest warrant for me having committed branch-i-cide…you know, the murder of a tree…LOL!

Thanks!

Tell Me Tuesdays, Chapter 3

Does anyone know Greek? If you do, then you will most certainly be able to figure out what my Tell Me Tuesdays topic is for today. Here we go:


I suffer from gephyrophobia. I haven't always been this way, but I am DEF-IN-ITE-LY and POS-I-TIVE-LY a gephyrophobe today.


Give up?


Okay, quite simply, I am afraid (as in, break out in sweats, clench my teeth, want to cry afraid) of bridges. Yup, bridges. The over the water ones. Sounds corny doesn't it?


What's really weird about this fear of mine is that growing up, I lived not even 5 minutes from this bridge and we traveled over it hundreds of times to get to the good ole' beach at the Jersey Shore that we lived so close to. And you kow what? I don't ever recall being afraid of this bridge as a child or even when I finally got my driver's license and had to personally drive over this concrete structure myself.


I can't pinpoint when my fear of bridges started, but believe me... I have a terrible fear of them now. In fact, if I can avoid a bridge, I will, even if it means me finding an alternate route. When I can't do that and someone else is driving, I close my eyes and hum a tune until I know we are across to the other side.

I know that my fear is completely irrational, but it causes me horrible anxiety and panic pangs nonetheless.


I guess if I really analyze this phobia of mine, I think my fear of bridges may also have something to do with the fact that I am also afraid of heights (which I KNOW stems from my cheerleading days and the time I was the top girl on a 4-person high pyramid and the bottom gave out sending me crashing to the gym floor fracturing my ankle in the process).


Hmmm, let me see, bridges over water = high up off the ground = Tracey getting injured. I think I am beginning to see a corelation here...LOL!


What about you? Is there anything you are afraid of or were afraid of, but now you're not? It's Tell Me Tuesdays, so let me know.

Faith

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1

This has always been one of my favorite Bible verses, but during this past year it has grown to hold even more meaning. I know the Lord knows what my future holds, and I also know that He will hold my hand every step of the way just as He has done and continues to do in my life.

Trying to conceive and the frustrations of infertility can easily lead one to want to just succumb to defeat. Sometimes, it's really hard to keep the faith, especially month after month. Faith in your protocol, faith that you are doing the right things at the right time, faith that if you don't get pregnant you will be okay, faith that if you do get pregnant everything will turn out fine.

Giving into my worry, anxiousness, and doubts only makes me feel horrible. I realized that what I really need (and the only thing I need) is to have faith in the Lord. I know that when I am faced with an obstacle, He will guide me through it just as He has always done. What a relief.

When I mentioned I wanted to start a blog, my husband asked me if I really thought people would read it. I told him that I was taking a leap of faith that people would. And you have. I thank you for that.

Keep the Faith, and God Bless!

Hi, Y'all!

Although I live in Alabama, I did not grow up as a southern girl. And, as I have been told on numerous occasions, "You will never be considered a true southerner because you weren't born and raised here."

So, I guess the fact that I have lived here since the early 80's (and my parents and brother have since moved here too) doesn't equate to being southern born and southern bred. That's okay, I can accept that fact (and I have). Perhaps if my name was Scarlett O'hara I might have been cut some slack...LOL!

I suppose that if I still lived in New Jersey, I wouldn't ever be able to get my mind around calling anyone from Alabama a northerner either - - even if they had lived in the Garden State for over 20 years and named their son Franco, Jr.

Don't get me wrong, although I miss certain things about being up north (like pizza and bagels and delis and boardwalks), I really do love living in the south and I am thrilled to be raising my child here.

I love the fact that it's okay to talk about the Lord with your co-workers and they don't look at you as if you were crazy. I love the fact that being active in a church youth group is cool. I love the fact that children say, "Yes, m'am and No, m'am and Yes, sir and No, sir." I love the fact that the girl in the check-out line smiles at me and always says, "Hi, how are you doing today?" I love the fact that if you like country music that's okay (and almost expected...LOL!). Truth be told, I love a whole lot of things about the south and that is why I chose to remain here.

In the 25 years I have lived in what's called the Heart of Dixie, I have also come to realize that there are some very unique ways to say things and/or express yourself. Case in point.

After having left my only home and family at the Jersey Shore, and being in Alabama for only a week, I went to the local grocery store to pick up a few items for my dorm room refrigerator. The lady walking ahead of me turned around and politely asked me if I wanted a "buggy"? You can imagine the stunned and confused look on my face when I said, "Excuse me?" Heck, I thought she was talking about the thing that's attached to a horse...no wonder I was confused! I still laugh about that today.

Actually, I still chuckle about many of the unique words/statements I hear around me every single day. For instance, people:

1. Mash buttons. I push buttons (I do, however, mash potatoes).

2. Carry you places (which I am sure can get very tiring...LOL!). I drive people to their destinations.

3. Get sick on their stomach. I get sick to or in my stomach.

4. Bar-rey something from someone. I borrow it.

5. Order a coke and then specify what flavor, i.e. Sprite, Dr. Pepper, etc. Wait, I thought that by law, coke was only that brown stuff in a red can?

6. Say yella and winda. I say yellow and window.

7. Get bowed up on someone. I get mad at them.

These are just a few of the southernisms that I have grown accustomed to and find endearing about the place in which I live and the place I now call home (even if I am still considered one of them Yankees).

My son, well, this morning he told me that he was fixin' to wash the car with his grandfather...so I guess he's a true southern boy after all...LOL!

Tell Me Tuesdays, Chapter 2

It's Tell Me Tuesdays time again. And, of course, you know you are going to be told something about me today (actually, I guess I do that everyday don't I?), but I really hope those of you out there in computer land will tell me something about yourself too.

There have been many visitors to my blog (and I am grateful for each and everyone of you)...surely some of you will be willing to tell me something, anything, c'mon you can do it. I'd really like to get to know you all.

Okay, tag, I'm it right? So here goes...

I AB-SO-LUTELY adore shoes!!! Now, you are probably saying to yourself, "Big whoopdee doo Tracey, what woman doesn't?" But, no, really you don't understand...when I say absolutely adore, what I really mean is...well, I am sort of obsessed with the colorful soled creatures.

See what I mean?!! No, you were not just looking at the before photos of Mariah Carey's closet...it's er, um mine. Well actually, it's just my main closet in our master bedroom. I actually do have just a teeny tiny bit about twenty more boxes in another closet.

Truth be told, there are about 20 to 25 pairs that I do not wear at all or even wear alot and they are just taking up space in my closet (as if there weren't already enough shoes taking up space in my closet...LOL!) But, really how many shoes is too many? I mean, it's in the eye of the beholder, right? For me, that beholder is my dear sweet hubby...the owner of a total amount of three pair of shoes (four if you include sneakers). So of course he would think I owned too many shoes. But seriously, I just don't think he gets it.

You see, no matter how much weight I gain or lose, my shoes still fit, and moreover, they look good. Yep, just forget all about those 10 15 extra pounds I've put on since starting fertility meds...my Kenneth Cole (bought on sale at TJ Maxx) pumps are just as comfy as ever!

My hubby has asked me, "Babe, how many pairs of black shoes do you really need?" My answer, "Well, that all depends sweetie. Are we talking dressy, casual, flats, sandals?"

I have promised him that before the summer ends, I will weed out and discard, give-a-way, bring to consignment, etc. at least 1/3 of my shoe stash. Don't ask me how many pairs that is because I was never too good at fractions, and honestly, I am sort of afraid to know my actual total shoe count in the first place...LOL!

But, no, seriously, I absolutely and definitely WILL pare down my pairs...I promise.

Wait, what is that you said oh, co-worker friend of mine? There's a 30% off coupon for Shoe Station in today's paper? Hmmm, does a promise count if your toes were crossed in your shoes when you made it? :0)

It's Amazing What A Little Break Can Do...

Hello Everyone!

Well, I am officially back from my relaxation tour (that almost sounds Britney Spear-ish doesn't it?!), and while I wish I could say I came back looking like this lovely young lady...

I did, however, come back with the same contented smile on my face (although I'm sure our smiles are because of vastly different reasons...LOL!)

It's amazing what a few days of rest and relaxation can do for one's well-being. Throw in some (only your best friends really know you) kind of laughter and it almost makes you feel as if you can single handily tackle the looming state of our United States economy. Okay, that might be a lofty aspiration...but, you get the picture, right?

I have come to find out that best girlfriends are akin to children and pets...no matter what you do, how you act, or what you look like (or don't look like anymore...LOL!), they love you unconditionally. There are no pretenses, no rules of proper etiquette, no politically correct verbiage - - you are loved just for being you (and you feel just the same about them).

I don't think I could have gotten through this past year of trying to conceive without my girlfriends. Sure, I have the support and love from my immediate family and that is truly a blessing, but it is my dearest, oldest and bestest (if that is even a word?) girlfriend(s) who:

1. Allowed me to show up at her doorstep or place of employment for her to give me my monthly trigger shot because (at the time) I was too chicken to do so myself.

2. When I was miscarrying my first angel baby, followed me and my husband to the hospital in a torrential and dangerous rain storm, stayed with me the entire night right by my side, and then, because she is a nurse at the same hospital, made sure that I was treated with extra special care the entire time I was there.

3. Drove 3 1/2 hours just to spend overnight with me on my birthday because she knew my husband was away at Army drill and the thought of me being at home by myself after just having suffered a miscarriage 6 days earlier was just too unbearable for her to think about.

4. Cried just as much as I did when, for the second time in less than 4 months, I had to call and let her know that I had lost my second angel baby.

Yes, these are the same girlfriends who have been there for each other through weddings, births of children, deaths of a sibling and a parent, house moves to another state, birthday and anniversary celebrations, Holiday get-togethers, etc. No matter what, we have been there for one another.

So, as I try to get back into the groove of being back at work and tackling home life, I can't help but once again look back at the special time spent with my girlfriends and know that no matter what's in store for me trying to conceive or otherwise, they will be right there by my side just like they were when we were all laying next to each other on our beach chairs this past week/weekend.

What about you? Do you have a special girlfriend or girlfriends? What's one of the most meaningful things they have done for you or that you have done together? Share your story in the comments below this blog entry. I know that if the readers are like me (and I'm sure they are) they would love to read about your girlfriend closeness too.

Bikini-Clad Beach Babes Trip

Okay, well, you can forget about the bikini part of that title...those days are long gone for me and my girlfriends...child birth, getting older, cellulite ripples, etc. make the bikini wearing totally out of the question, but not the beach trip part... Seriously, I think we will be making this trip...




for a very, very long time (or at least until we look like these lovely ladies)...LOL!

For about twenty plus years now, I have been taking an annual "girls only" beach trip with 3 of my closest friends a.k.a. The Beach Babes. Two I met while I was a freshman in college and pledged the same sorority with them and the other I bonded with immediately as a co-worker a few years later. It is the one time each year that we know we can just be girls...not moms, not wives, not employees, just girls. Mind you now, our type of trip has definitely changed over the years. What used to be laying on the beach from dawn til dusk and staying out all night has now turned into a drinking morning coffee, laying by the pool for a few hours, getting an uninterrupted shower, putting on our pajamas and popping in a good girly movie on the DVD player. Trust me, I can honestly tell you that both scenarios have proven to be just what we've needed for the time frame in which they occurred.

Our husbands (although completely amenable to the idea of us girls going) don't really get the whole idea about the need to take such a trip each year. My sweet husband has even said to me, "We take a week-long beach trip together as a family every year. Isn't that relaxing?" Hmmm, let me think about that honey. Family beach trip means Tracey packing for three, Tracey checking to see that all beach/pool paraphernalia is in working order, Tracey preparing meals and feeding child and husband at the appropriate intervals, Tracey applying sun screen to husband and child throughout the day, Tracey washing wet towels and bathing suits every night, etc. And then, after a week of said family beach trip, Tracey packing up for three, Tracey checking to see that beach/pool paraphernalia is all accounted for, Tracey making sure the condo refrigerator is all cleaned out, etc. Puhlease, tell me that you all are getting the "relaxing" picture here, right?! - - LOL!


As of tomorrow, I will be on my way to REAL relaxation. For the next few days, I will only have to be responsible for me. I hope that doesn't sound selfish because truth be told, I love being a mom and a wife, and I really love my job too. However, 4 days of nothing but adult reading material (and, I'm talking People and Redbook magazines here folks), my beach towel, my girlfriends (yep, not even taking my lap top), no temperature taking, no pee sticks, AND no anything related to trying to conceive IS for me...total bliss. Seriously, it ranks right on up there with chocolate and for those of you who know me, you know how much I absolutely L-O-V-E chocolate.


Before I head out for the next few days though, I did want to post a comment from a friend of mine who was the first one (and by the way, the only one) to participate in Tell Me Tuesdays yesterday (I know, I know, all of my blog visitors are either people I already know everything about or if not, had errands to run yesterday while their computers were down...LOL!), and she is dealing with a medical issue that she hopes/we hope someone out there reading my blog can offer her some info on or lend advice regarding this procedure and/or can share your experience if you've had this procedure done. So, with her permission, I am posting her comment here.


As for telling about me, and the theme of your blog, I'll tell you about us trying to conceive. John was on Methotrexate, which, although no one told us, apparently causes birth defects and low sperm count. He is off of it now and on Humira instead...which is extremely expensive and is self-injected, much to his dismay. However, he feels much better. I have to have surgery before we try to get pregnant, called a surgical cerclage. Apparently, I have a "weak cervix". 99% of people with a weak cervix have the surgery at about 12 weeks of pregnancy, but mine is so weak that I need the surgery before we get pregnant. I'll give you more details when we meet next week for dinner, but I just thought I'd fill it in on the blog for your other readers as well. Anyone out there had this surgery? Or experience with a weak cervix?


Sweet readers, if you can lend her some helpful comments, please do so at the end of this post. Thanks!

As for me...magazines - check, beach towel - check, girlfriends ready to go - check, relaxation here I come - double check!!

Tell Me Tuesdays, Chapter 1

I think that one of the great things about blogging is getting to know someone through their personal stories. I have laughed, cried, prayed and praised joy for many people/families I have come to "know" through a blog.

Obviously, you are getting to know about me through this blog, but I'd really like to get to know some of you as well.

So I'm taking a page out of many a blogging book and creating a special day. It's going to be called, Tell Me Tuesdays.

Every Tuesday, I would love to hear from you. Tell me about yourself/your family, tell me if you have a blog too, tell me if you've had struggles while trying to conceive, tell me...Well, tell me anything you want. I promise it won't just be one way. I vow to tell you a different something about me every Tuesday as well. So if you feel like joining in just click on comments at the end of this thread and tell, tell, tell. Oh, just so you know, yes, I will read every comment (after all, how am I supposed to get to know you all if I don't read 'em). I'm really looking forward to getting to "know" each of you just as much as I hope you are enjoying getting to "know" me.

I'll kick this off by telling you that I love reality shows. One of my favorites right now is The Bachelorette on ABC, although for the sweet love of pound cake, why Jillian kept that no good Wes around for as long as she did is beyond me! When a Monday night rolls around, my hubby often walks into our living room only to hear me yelling, No, No, No! do NOT give that guy a rose or c'mon I cannot believe you just got rid of so and so (like Jillian can really hear me) - - LOL! Some of my other favorites are any of the Real Housewives series (Bravo), Project Runway (Bravo), Tori & Dean, Home Sweet Hollywood (Oxygen), Top Chef (Bravo), Ruby (Style Network), and of course all of the A Baby Story segments on TLC/Discovery (those do count as reality TV, right?!).

Although this morning's post is light-hearted, I would be remiss in not asking you all to read my post from last night and ask you to pray for my sweet friend who unexpectedly lost one of her twin babies yesterday. Thank you so much!

Sad news tonight...prayers needed

As you all know, TTC has brought me to discover many things, one of of which is a website and a thread of ladies with whom I have become very close to this past year. Honestly, I feel as though they are my sisters and even though we all have never met, I feel like I know them as if they were my family. We have shared many a sorrow and many a joy with each other. Of course, the main reason for our joys have been the announcement of pregnancies and then having the privilege of following miraculous journeys through every trimester with each friend who becomes a mommy-to-be within our circle.


Today was to be a celebration of joy for one of my "sisters". She was going to the hospital this morning to give birth to her twin boys and we were all anxiously anticipating the news of their official arrival. Hours went by and no word. We all began to worry, but hoped that perhaps in the excitement of the day, there was no time to post to our thread and/or a cell phone had accidentally been left at home. Just a few minutes ago, our worries were confirmed when we found out that one of the twins had been born still into the arms of our Heavenly Father. There are no words to describe how devastated I was (we all were) to learn of this news.


I believe that we all are children of God, and I know that the Lord does not ever want one of his children to suffer no matter how unbearable the loss. I also believe in the healing power and comfort of prayer. I am asking that if you came to this blog tonight/today, please pray for my friend and her family as they prepare for two homecomings...one for their child here on earth, and one for their child whose home will be in Heaven. And with that, I leave this prayer...



Dear Lord, we pray for your comfort and engulfing love for my dear friend, her husband and her family grieving the loss of their sweet baby son. Grant them grace and courage to face the future. May they understand in faith that your love, as a Father, will not cause them a needless tear and they will once again be with their precious child who left this earth much too soon. We also sing praises in your name for the birth of a brother...healthy and strong, but no longer with his twin by his side. Bless this child dear Lord and help him to grow and live in your presence knowing that he will never be alone as long as his eyes look to You and Heaven. We ask these things in the blessed name of your son, Jesus. Amen

Adoption as an option?

As if trying to conceive and having multiple miscarriages wasn't bad enough, I have also been labeled as someone who is "AMA" (of Advanced Maternal Age). Although that label is most often thrown around in the world of print media, I can't help but feel its sting every time I run across it in some "baby" article. Nevertheless, due to our ups and downs while trying to add to our family, Michael and I have also opened ourselves up to the idea of adoption.

Adoption, I've come to find out, is much like picking what type of fruit you want to eat. Do you want domestic or international? Do you want it to be open or closed? Do you want an infant or an older child? Do you want to go through a public agency or an independent agency? Whoa, wait a sec...I just wanted a banana to go on my bowl of Cheerios. Of course I want it to be a ripe banana, but seriously, I just want a banana...that's all.


For those of you who don't know, I am a severe Type A personality. Yes, I am one of those people who maps out (well in advance) which rides and attractions to hit when and where at Disney World, and of course the tickets are all purchased ahead of time, reservations made before we leave home, etc. You get the picture. Well, come to find out...adoption and Type A personalities are not necessarily the best of buddies.


Case in point, I have thoroughly researched options available for us (taking that dreaded AMA into account) and adoption agencies. I have talked to friends of mine who have adopted. I have narrowed it down to the agency we would use. I have contacted the agency and received their adoption packet. I have reviewed all the paperwork, and we've even talked to an adoption counselor from the agency. Sounds, great right? Well, yes, sort of.


All that I've mentioned totally satisfies the Type A side of me, but with adoption, I'm learning that Type A's also need to become Type B's (you know...patient, relaxed, easy going, roll with the flow, just wait and see sort of people). To be quite honest, brutally actually, I do not deal very well with the unknown. I am through and through a "know when my period is due to arrive, know what day I ovulate, know the sex of my baby before it's born kind of gal." So what do you mean I don't get to pick the birth mother of my future child, plan what month is best for it to be delivered, choose whether it is a boy or girl, know the exact moment that we will bond with the baby, or the day we finalize and he/she is really ours?


I have been told by those who have adopted that most of those questions and worries go out the window the moment you are told you have been matched with a birth mother, and moreover when that baby is placed in your arms. Michael and I so clearly remember what it felt like to hold our son for the very first time and the thought of having those feelings again brings a smile to our faces.


Over the next few months, we have alot to think about and what is best for us as a family. However, I am comforted by the fact that we have agreed that adoption is a possible option. Now, if someone will please just let me know (in advance of course) what the winning numbers are for the next Super Lotto (so we can actually afford to adopt)...I'll be all set!

Of pills and meds

It’s funny, in my "Oh-so" carefree twenties, I used to scoff at the idea of taking the

recommended one vitamin per day. Mind you now, I did not

EV-ER forget to take my birth control pill back in the day, but since I kept those in my make-up drawer I really considered those more like a funky eye shadow rather than a med…LOL! Fast forward to twenty years later, and I am thrilled that my doctor said, "Tracey, I want you to take a break from the meds this month and give your body a break." What you say??? A break? Yahoo! Well, just take a look at my break. Count em’. Yup, that’s still nine pills left over. Nine pills everyday on a meds break and I am still ecstatic over that…go figure? Mind you, I know my measly caplets do not even come close to the pharmaceutical plethora of pills and shots that one takes when going through invitro fertilization (IVF), but to me, just the fact that I didn’t have to add the additional 15 more pills of Clomid and an hCG shot this month had me on cloud 9! It’s amazing what makes your day when you are trying to conceive.

Speaking of that, if you read About Me, you know I have a precious 6 ½ year old son, R.J. Let me just say that the Lord could not have given me a more wonderful child. He is smart and outgoing and a total boy through and through. And, he is also an ONLY child. Only children often will talk to anything that is animate (or inanimate for that matter) whenever the chance arises. With my son, it matters not whether the animate object is adult or child. He will usually just strike up a friendly conversation (all the while never straying far from his mommy or daddy’s presence). Case in point. Last night, my hubby decided to take me to dinner to get my mind off of the day’s medical proceedings. I was feeling up to it and so off to Outback we went. Dinner was enjoyable, but when we got back into the car, my son asked his daddy if we could go and get ice cream. We did.

We pulled into the parking lot of our local Bruster’s ice cream place and hopped out. We got in line and out of the corner of my eye I saw this HUGE black thing scurrying at a cheetah's pace and almost crawl up my son’s croc. R.J. saw it too and (like a boy) followed it to the edge of the sidewalk and tried to smush it with said croc. As this was happening, a lady in front of me in line said, "What in the world was that?" To which I replied, "Oh, it’s just a roach." She then said, "You all have the biggest bugs I’ve ever seen." And I said, "You must not be from here." Being that we have a really large influx of military families in the area, I figured she had just been transferred to our town. Her husband, who was standing not too far from us, said they had just moved from California and had only been here for 3 weeks. Well, one thing led to another, we all got our ice cream and sat down to chit chat about this and that and the other. R.J. had already zoomed in on the fact that they had four children, two of which were twin boys. He couldn’t help himself and asked the lady if they were twins and she said, "Yes". My son then replies, "Daddy says he wants twins, but mommy isn’t sure. She really just wants a healthy baby since she was pregnick two times last year, but the babies died." Er um, okay son, that’s a bit TMI to share with a total stranger in the parking lot of an ice cream place. Thankfully, the lady was as sweet as she could be, and after R.J.’s divulgence to her, he started hitting it off conversationally with their 4th grader instead.

The world of trying to conceive is a small one as I’ve come to find out. After my son spilled the beans on my miscarriages, the lady said that she too had suffered a miscarriage and her twin sons were conceived on Clomid. Of course, that opened up a whole ‘nother conversation between me and her. As we got ready to leave (and had to pry R.J. away from the clan of many children), I could hear my son saying to the kids…"PUH-LEASE, have your Mom call my Mom so we can get together and play Wii sometime." Which in my mind translated to…"Oh, and I’ll tell you all about my mommy’s gallbladder surgery that she had in the 90s!"

Having an ONLY child, sometimes you just gotta’ love it!

B is for blockage

There's alot to be said for a woman's intuition. Sure, you hear people joke about it all the time, but it's usually men who are telling the jokes about this "myth"...LOL! Let's just say that for me my intuition (at least when it comes to my body) is usually dead on. Those of you familiar with the ups and downs of trying to conceive will probably understand what I am about to say. I "know" when I am pregnant, and I "know" when I am not. Michael used to ask me, "How do you know?" And I would just respond, "I just do."

Well, what does all of that have to do with today? Well, after IUI number 4 (after the second miscarriage) and me not getting pregnant, I just had this nagging feeling that something wasn't right. And truth be told, that's why we made the appointment to talk to my doctor a week ago. Even though my doc told me that he didn't think I had a tubal issue again, I did (however, I didn't come out and admit it at that time). Well, guess what???

Yup, that woman's intuition "myth" was right on. We've got a blockage...same tube place, same tube channel (just a little 70s Batman TV show humor there for ya'). Honestly, I think my doctor was totally shocked to see that there was a blockage. Me, well, due to the gut splitting pain and after almost biting off the hand of the x-ray tech standing next to me during the procedure, I was not surprised. After all, woman's intuition, right?

The last time we had this diagnosis, I cried. Today, well, I guess you could say that in some small way I was relieved. Sounds silly I know, but at least I had an inkling as to why I was having issues getting pregnant again. You see, ironically, it is my left tube that is blocked and it is my left ovary that is the dominant producer of egg follicles. Good egg follicles + bad tube = no pregnancy (or at least that's the case for me). If I had to break the last 18 months of TTC down, it's not that I don't get pregnant (once tubal issues are gone), it's that I am apparently having trouble sustaining the pregnancies (but, I won't even attempt to get into that issue right now).

What's next? Looks like I'll be getting that wire in the tube thing done again that I mentioned in an earlier post. If you click on the link in the previous sentence, you'll see that the wire procedure is really called a tubal recanalization, and for me it worked. Hopefully, we'll have the same success again. You know what? I am actually not dreading having it done either. Why? Because 1. They will give me a LOV-E-LY med to sedate me, and 2. The radiologist who will be performing the procedure is drop dead gorgeous. Okay, while I know that most people would not care what in the world the person looks like who's going to be down there diggin' in your whooha, I just figure that if I can't be looking at my husband and son before I drift off to la-la land, at least I'll be looking at someone appealing (and to my knowledge, Jon Bon Jovi is not available or qualified to perform the procedure) LOL!

So that's where we are folks. Sometime next week, I should be getting a call about when the recanalization is going to be scheduled (more than likely it will be in early August). In the meantime, today my doctor said after the HSG that we still had the okay to go ahead and try on our own this month because, "you just never know." Hmmmm, sounds to me like he privately talked to my husband before the HSG! ;0

At a crossroads

That's where Michael and I find ourselves right now...at a crossroads. Since the second miscarriage back in December (2008), I have done a total of 4 more Clomid & IUI cycles and nada...well, actually we did have mutiple follicles and really good sperm counts each time, but none of those cycles ended up in a pregnancy. If I was in my twenties (or even early thirties) I would say, "Just give it a chance", but at 42 (almost 43) I just don't feel like I have alot of time to sit back to wait and see what happens. Given this state of quandry, we asked to meet with my doctor to explain how we were feeling and see what, if any, advice/recommendations he could give us.

So, last Wednesday, Michael and I found ourselves at my doctor's office waiting for what seemed like days (1 1/2 hours to be more specific) watching the myriad of ladies (most all of whom were very pregnant) waltz in and out of the doors to the exam rooms. At one point there was a lady sitting on the couch in the waiting room who was talking rather loudly to her mother and complaining about how she couldn't take the pain of being pregnant (evidently her baby was pushing really hard on her ribcage) and how dare her husband for getting her knocked-up (her words, not mine) again. I looked over at my husband who also heard this wordy exchange and told him that I would trade places with her in a split second. He looked at me and softly said, "I know you would." After sitting there for all that time looking at all the pregnant women and questioning in my mind, "Why not me, Lord?", they called us back.

Let me just tell you (as Teresa from the Real Housewives of New Jersery would say) I love, love, love my doctor. I have been coming to him since I was a freshman in college and he has got the best bedside manner ever. There has never been a time when I felt like he didn't want to hear what I had to say or was bothered by me asking questions. He was kind and empathetic during my miscarriages and he is the doctor that delivered my son so in my mind, he's a gem.

We sat down and explained our frustration and disappointment at our lack of conceiving. I cried as I told him that I felt that the miscarriages were somehow my fault (like I had waited too late in life to TTC again or maybe I shouldn't have had that morning cup of coffee right after I found out I was pregnant this last time). He handed me tissues and sat there and listened and reassured me that the miscarriages were nothing I caused. I guess in my heart I knew that too, but hearing him say it made me feel better. After Michael and I pour our hearts out to him, he told us that there were other things that could be done to help us "amp up" the process of trying to get pregnant. He looked through my file and noticed that it had been over a year since I had my blocked tube cleared. While he really didn't think that the tube was blocked again, he felt like it wouldn't hurt to take a look and see just to make sure. We agreed. So, tomorrow, I am scheduled to have a hysterosalpingogram (better known as an HSG) to see whether or not my fallopian tubes are still open. For those of you who don't know, an HSG is usually done in a hospital's radiology department. There, they inject a radioactive dye into your uterine cavity and fill it up. If the fallopian tubes are open, the dye will flow throw the tubes and spill into the abdominal cavity. Sounds like a fun way to spend a Friday, doesn't it?!

Anyway, I want to let you all know that I am not a wuss when it comes to pain or uncomfortableness. In fact, I think I have a pretty high tolerance for pain. But, let me tell you...the last time I had an HSG, I thought I was going to die!! You see, if your tubes are clear, there's no problem...dye goes in, dye flows freely, hence no pain. HOW-EV-ER, if you do have a blockage, the dye hits a roadblock. In most instances, the power of the dye being pushed into your tube often will clear the blockage (think Roto-Rooter), but in my case it did not (which I found out instantly due to the excruciating pain that went searing through my lower parts). Honestly, if I could have kicked my sweet everloving doctor in the face, I would have. Instead, I just laid there on the cold x-ray table with tears running down my face and screamed for him to stop. Thankfully, he did.

So while I am eager to know if my tube is blocked again (and thus a possible cause as to not being able to get pregnant this time around), I am NOT looking forward to the the HSG and a repeat of sadistic roto-rooting 101. Guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Where it began

The Neil Diamond song, "Sweet Caroline" begins just like that. You probably know the words..."Where it began, I can't begin to know when..." For me, actually I do know where my Trying To Conceive (TTC) journey (for child #2) began - -it was December 2007. My husband and I were of the naive belief that since we were now ready to have another baby that BOOM! it would happen. I mean, after all, that's how it happened with our son. That scenario played out like this:

1. Married for two years (good time to start a family, and besides we were already in our thirties)
2. Take last birth control pill and do not get a refill
3. Figure it's going to take a few months to get pregnant so enjoy the sex and throw caution to the wind, but hey just for good measure, after a night of mexican food and margaritas, prop hips up on a pillow after doing the deed
4. Have what I thought to be a really light period and didn't give pregnancy a second thought (especially since we were in the middle of a house move and I had too many other things on my mind)
5. Move into new house and mention to my friend that my boobs were really sore (having never been pregnant before I didn't give much thought about the "girls" and figured I had lifted a heavy box during the move and leaned it too hard on my chest)
6. While at grocery store with same friend, get talked into purchasing a home pregnancy test with the bread and sandwich meat
7. Go home, and almost before the pee hit the stick...see two blazing dark lines BINGO! we are pregnant
8. Boy, was that ever easy!
9. Fast forward to 6 years later...you ain't kiddin', so what's wrong now????

After 4 more months of trying to get pregnant, we realized that we might have a problem (and mexican food and margaritas were simply not doing the trick this time). So, off to the doctor I went. Due to my "age" the doctor suggested that perhaps we rev up my insides and try an ovary stimulating drug a.k.a. Clomid. And we did, and it did the appropriate ovary revving and we even added to that revving by doing an intrauterine insemination (IUI) for good measure...no pregnancy.

Hmmm, okay, let's try it again the next month, still no pregnancy.

Let's take a look at the tubes...AHA! we've got a blockage. Can't clear it with dye being injected into the tubes, so let's try and cut on you a bit and see what we find out. Well, we find out that the blockage cannot be fixed that way either. Double hmmmm! Okay, let's stick a skinny little wire in your tube and see if we can dislodge the blockage that way...mission accomplished!!! Tube is cleared!

Let's do the Clomid/IUI thing again. We do and VIOLA! we get pregnant.

Michael and I were thrilled that we were going to have a baby again. We told everybody (inlcuding our son) and couldn't wait for our first ultrasound. At that appointment however, we were hit with some disturbing news. I was measuring approx. 2 weeks behind (not a good scenario). However, my doctor told us that this scenario could go one of two ways. 1. The pregnancy would wind up not being viable, or 2. We just had a little slow poke in there and in two more weeks, the baby would catch up. Either way, he recommended that we wait it out, and so we did.

Two weeks later, the ultrasound showed us a sweet little bean measuring only 2 days behind and there it was...a little flickering heartbeat on the screen! Our prayers had been answered. We left the doctor's office that day on cloud 9! Little did we know how short lived our excitement would be. Within 24 hours after seeing the baby's heartbeat, I started spotting, then bleeding and wound up in the local emergency room miscarrying and had to have an immediate D & C. There was no apparent reason as to why I miscarried, it just happened. Words cannot express how absolutely devastated we were...especially having to tell everyone (including our son) that the baby was gone. My birthday was just 6 days later, but there was no celebration.

We decided to try again, and after the doctor gave us the okay, we did. That month we did not get pregnant, but the very next month (just two months after the miscarriage) we were pregnant again! Praise God! This time, everything seemed to be looking great. The first ultrasound showed the baby measuring right on target and once again there was that little heart flicker! What joy to see that! We felt comfortable in telling our son again and a few close friends. I mean after all, things were looking good, right? Or so we thought. Never in a million years did I think that when we went back for our second ultrasound there was going to be a problem. How wrong I was. Our baby had stopped growing shortly after the first ultrasound 3 1/2 weeks earlier. How in the world could this have happened again? WHY? WHY? WHY? I was numb. Once again we had to share the horrible news with our family and friends. On the morning of New Year's Eve, I was at the hospital having my child being taken away from me...AGAIN. There was no happy ringing in the year 2009 for us. I spent the next month and a half in a fog.

After the second loss, my doctor ran all sorts of "recurrent miscarriage" testing. The results...NORMAL. I remember thinking on one hand that's a good thing, but on the other hand I wanted there to be something "wrong" (but fixable of course) so I would have an answer as to why this was happening to me. No such "luck" if you want to call it that.

And thus, here were are with my saga of secondary infertility and the dreaded A.M.A. (Advanced Maternal Age) to boot! WOO-HOO! Yea, right?!!

Although my story of becoming a mother again is beginning with frustration, sadness, and loss, I am totally placing my faith in the Lord that my ending will be filled with joy, thanksgiving and the celebration of life.

This is the story of my journey to that end (and well actually, a new beginning too)...thank you for following along with me.