A purpose for those who have lost their way.

I’ve been MIA for a few days, and to tell you the truth I think I’ve been MIA in the real world too. I haven’t felt like doing much of anything lately and my heart is broken. Does anyone ever feel like sometimes God hears us in the most dreadful of ways.

Let me rewind. Back in February my fertile friend told us they were pregnant just after two months of trying. Horrible of me to say, but I was devastated. I thought for sure that we were the next in line. But we weren’t. I have to admit, I was angry, sad and yes, jealous. I prayed a lot about it. I asked Him to forgive me for my jealousy, and anger. But I also prayed that He would take care of her and her little one. I asked Him why it wasn’t me. Had I done something wrong to not deserve to be in her shoes? I found myself thinking back as far as I can remember and apologizing for every single bad thought or action that I had done over the course of my life and pleading with Him to give us our baby. I was happy for her, but I just couldn’t feel the excitement that I knew she felt. I know, I’m a horrible, awful, wretched person. But over the months I became more and more happy for her. I knew that come November I  would be able to be a part of a child’s life. If not my own, then someone that I care very much for.

On Saturday I had asked her to call me on Monday just to let me know how her OB appt. went. Monday evening she did as I asked, but only to tell me that she had lost the baby. My world stopped. How could something like this happen? She was 22 weeks and although had not gained much weight, she was still healthy and so was the pregnancy.

Phone calls spread like wild fire.  We all jumped at the opportunity to be there for her, and we all were. When I walked into the L&D ward, I couldn’t imagine that I would be here for this. A fleeting moment passed where I found myself praying for her, the baby and me and DH. “Please Lord, take care of them. And please give me the chance to walk through these doors as a patient and not a visitor.” Selfish I’m sure.

As we all entered her room and offered hugs and condolences, I noticed the shock in her face. She had been crying, but seemed to be over that part, and now just trying to sort everything out. Her DH. while not visibly crying, had the most lost look on a person I had ever seen. We stayed with her as long as we could. They brought her the pills to begin labor and as we left I found myself bargaining with God again.

Tuesday evening had come at a pain staking slow pace. We went to visit her after watching her girls and within minutes she had delivered. A boy. What they had been praying for all along, though they didn’t know for sure until he was born. He was tiny. Only about 8” long and maybe a pound. I didn’t expect them to share their experience withall of us, but they did. We went into her room, and wrapped in a tiny blue blanket with a white knit hat on his head there he was. There was the root of all our excitement and happiness.

Nothing could have prepared me for what we were about to experience. She had asked if we all wanted to hold him. I politely declined because I was afraid. Then the priest came, baptized him and asked for that little baby  to be with his mother in spirit for the rest of her life. I lost it. I began to think about my own angel, and asked for my sweet baby to be with me. In that moment, I knew that I had to hold him. He was her baby, and it was important for all of us to recognize that regardless of how graphic it was. She asked for my DH to hold him too. “Do you want to hold my baby?” Those words have been forever ingrained in my head. I put my fears aside, and held him. I looked at him with some fear, but knew that I could not look at him for what he looked like, but for what he was supposed to be, and for what he meant to all of us, especially his mom and dad.  My DH held him and as I watched him swallow his tears, I could see every one of his fears. Fears for them, and for us.

It was just a matter of hours that we had been at the same hospital for our 4th IUI. An IUI that we have been so optimistic about. Now, although trying to stay optimistic, our fears are now more real than ever. In this moment, as if it were a ton of bricks that hit me I realized that no matter how many shots, follies, tests, sperm cups, dildo cams and “bargains” made with God, life is not something that any of us can control. I needed to let go of my control of this. This sweet tiny baby boy, who laid lifeless in all of our hands, was just another reminder for all of us just how powerful fate, karma, God, science, whatever you believe in, is.

While everyone around me wept, my tears stopped. I had found myself realizing that bargains aren’t prayers, and that I have to accept His will for whatever it is. I know now, that I don’t have all the answers to life, and I never will. Some things, while as random as they may seem, are planned with great precision. I don’t have a reason for why this baby never made it to this world, and I sympathize for the world who has missed out on this baby and the great things he would have accomplished. But in the few hours that we got to spend with him, he made one of the biggest impacts in my life, and everyone elses’ that was there with him. The priest told his mother that he and all of the lost children are in God’s hands. I have to believe that. I have to believe that God’s purpose, while it may seem cruel, was the right thing to do. Just as I have to believe, that my infertility, and loss while painful, has a higher purpose.

Many of us have lost our angels, and I like to think that maybe they are all in this same garden some where just waiting for the right time to return to their parents. Some will wait until their mother and father come for them in heaven, while others will return to live with them here. Therefore, it gives me great comfort to know that both my friend and I will once again have our babies, whether on Earth, or in our own gardens in heaven. I can only hope though that we are both lucky enough to have them here with us.

“They’re in there”

“You  are officially inseminated,” says the dorkiest most nervous Dr. in the world.(insert mental picture from “Look who’s Talking”) Can’t you say something cooler than “inseminated?” He gave it one more try and then all he could think of was “they’re in there.” Ok Dr. Star Wars, please put away your chemistry set and get me McSteamy. His uneasy grin as he entered into the room with that ominous catheter made me wonder just how many vajayjays he had actually seen. DH said he’s acting like I was his “first.” He walked out and DH so supportingly mocked me while he held me legs and said that I probably just took his virginity…IUI virginity of course. We laughed, and shared a quick smile together, but I could tell that both of us we’re more than hoping this was the Dr. that got me pregnant.

His counts were “more than exceptional,” go honey!!!! Everything went according to plan with my HcG and now I can only hope that Mother Nature gets her ass in gear. I haven’t made any threats to her yet, but if I have to go through another round of Clomid and Bravelle, I can’t make any promises.

As of today, just for me, I’m considering myself “pregnant until proven otherwise.” I figure that works for our judicial system, why the hell wouldn’t it work for me?? I am officially entering into the TWW and I would like to offer my apologies now, for any off the wall, or possibly offensive thing I might say in the coming weeks, it’s just that this will probably be the longest and most excruciating wait ever. But, if I follow the “No Vacancy” rules then all I should really be thinking is “2 down 38 more weeks to go.”

Here’s to the next 38!!!

TWINS!!!!

Follies of course. But hey, this optimistic thing is really working for me, so I think for now, I will just be happy with the thought that we actually have a REAL shot at twins.

Just got back from the Dr.’s and if it weren’t for the AMAZING news that my body works, I would probably be pissed as hell. I got there, waited, waited, had my blood work then waited some more. Two hours later, still waiting. WTF!!! I know they’re busy, but really that busy?? I finally found someone to ask, and she tells me that they were finished with morning scans. What, lady, I am on some pretty strong hormones, and a response like this could actually warrant a complete breakdown leading to me attending anger management classes. After another 15 minutes she comes back and says that I was a “no call, no show” for my appt. on Tue. WTF. Sorry, no, the other Doc that was here said that they would see me a week from today, meaning this Friday. But, snobbish upset tech, a three hour ordeal and sleep deprived Dr. aside, the visit went great.

I got all of my tests back from this visit and the last and happy to report that all levels including Endo, androgen and thyroid tests are all “b.e.autiful,” says McSteamy. As he did the u/s he noticed that my right ovary had failed to produce anything except one a little over 13. Sorry but this lazy bitch needs to wake up and contribute. My left had two juicy follies. Both over 17, which according to blue eyes McSteamy is exactly where they need them to be at CD11. The IUI is scheduled for Monday, my HcG is tomorrow, and instead of the usual ten days of injections they usually Rx, he said that he feels confident that I only need tonight’s injection and that I can scrap the other doses.

Oh body don’t fail me now. Funny thing though, I actually am really optimistic. I just have to keep reminding myself of my “No Vacancy” sign and keep my focus on my baby. I can’t have any room for doubts, and this time around, I won’t. In fact, I have actually been so positive I’ve even been thinking of when I would get my BFP. I did the math, and it works perfect. DH’s entire family is coming to town and the plan is to have the whole family at the beach for a week. Which means, we would be able to tell his whole family our good news. This has to work. I can’t think of a better scenario for us or them. Ok Mr. Olsteen, my sign is clearly posted, my uterus is in shape and my follies are on their way. Don’t disappoint me.

2 down…

Who knows how many more to go. What crappy IFs are we? The first night that I was supposed to take my first injection we fell asleep before the scheduled time to do it. My Dr. advised me to do it around 9:30 or 10:00, but by 9:00 both of us were dead to the world. I woke up around 1AM and remembered. So, here I am in PJs and half asleep trying to make my fertility cocktail. I’ve been lucky, DH got up and mixed by Bravelle Martini and like a trained druggie, injected the juice. Last night went much better. The both still sting like a bitch, but I know the pain is less when DH shoots me up than if I were to.

Yesterday, as I was pulling my Cocktail out of my baby in a bag I noticed that I had two boxes of the crap, meaning 10 injections worth, but only 5 needles and syringes. I know the military is cheap, but surely they don’t expect me to re-use those needles??? I mean, I may have shot fert drugs up in some pretty strange places, but I am in no need of an Intervention and therefore refuse to re-use that stuff. I’m not sure if they meant to give me that much and not enough “tools” or what. Good thing I have an appt. tomorrow to ask. Trust me, this is one question mark that will be answered. I have the u/s to check on my follies, and I am DEEPLY hoping this will pay off on the best way.

Kind smiles go a long way

First of all, I know I haven’t said this lately, but thank you to everyone for such nice comments. They’ve really helped me to see that this is a great way I can express how I truly feel to women that, unfortunately, know how I feel.

Well it’s already CD7, time flies, especially when you don’t need it to. Started taking the Clomid on CD4 as RX’ed by the docs. My CD4 appointment went well, I guess. I was much more relaxed this time and asked about my high temps, which to no surprise I was blown off. It kind of hurt my feelings that he just says this in like passing. He couldn’t even look me in my eyes, and give me a reassuring kind smile or anything.

ME: You know Dr. Jackass, I continued to temp throughout the time we were on our break, and even looked at some of my previous charts, before I was getting treated, and noticed that my temps never drop below 98.5. They have always been consistently higher, drop to high 97s then climb right back to 98s 99s even a few 100s, then go right back to 98s. Is this something that I should worry about, has the Clomid affected it?

Jackass: No, BBT has such a large margin of error from person to person that it’s not a big deal. You probably just didn’t ovulate, that’s all. That’s why we have you on these meds, and take routine u/s and blood work, so that we can make sure that you’re ovulating accordingly. (Said in a school teacher to Kinder class voice while walking out of the room.)

ME: Oh, ok, so then all of my levels should be in normal range then.

Jackass: That’s the plan. So, I see that you took a break from us for a while. Any particular reason why?

ME: Well, we sent on vacation, my DH wasn’t able to come, June was very very hectic with family and money, and jobs, or lack there of, and before I knew it, July had just creeped on in.

Jackass: Well, that’s ok, sometimes its good to take a break, it just prolongs your time from getting pg.

ME: Yeah well, it’s taken us this long, what are a few more months gonna do to us?

Jackass: You’re right, sometimes the timing is not just right to continue on trying every month. Now can you slide on down about three inches so we can take a look?

ME: (Scooching my ass down) and thinking, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say nuttin at all!!”  

 The good thing I guess is that I got the courage to ask. I even had the balls to ask when I would get my blood work results!!! As expected, I was told that I would have to wait til Monday, but it would probably be better if we just waited til the next appt. on this Friday. It’s not much, but for me, its progress. At least this time, the Dr. shook my hand. The other staff there, all of the Airmen, and Sgts. are really great. They’re kind and offer their apologies when you’re in the next month, and even remembered little things that DH and I had said in the past. (See, this is me, looking for the positive in things.) They actually help to keep my mind off of the impending meet and greet with the crappy Dr. and his crappy dildo cam.  The dildo cam was the same ol thing I had tried to forget. My conversation with the him: “so we meet again you nasty little plastic bag covered  high tec dildo. I hope she’s just as you remembered her, still intact, uterus is a little farther to the back, but hey, my lady had a professional hair wax just for you, so you better DAMN well cooperate this time!!! Got it!!!” He did for the most part. The Dr. said that it was a good result since I had been off meds for 3 months. Several follies on both sides, all “small” none of them were measured, but still, they’re there. Uterus was at 5.4, which because of the lack of communication between patient and doc, I have NO IDEA if that’s a good or bad number.

I was told to start Bravelle injections on CD8, the day that I finish the Clomid, and then get seen on Friday. I was given my little gift bag, (no really, a gift bag) by the assistant in the room since Dr. Jackass had so quietly left, with 5 needles, syringes, some gauze and alcohol pads and sent me on my merry way to the pharmacy. Ok…what’s missing here?

HOW THE FUCK AM IS SUPPOSED TO DO THIS FUCKING THING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT DO I MIX, WHERE DO I INJECT? DO I INJECT IN THE SAME PLACE EACH TIME? WHAT THE FUCK IS BRAVELLE? HOW DOES IT WORK? DO YOU THINK IT CAN HELP ME??? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!I had soo many questions, and like always, I was sent on my way with my gift bag, and a hope and a prayer. In fairness, he did tell me that I should do the meds, including the Clomid at night so that they can prolong ovulation.

While I was sitting in the pharmacy, one of the other women in the RE clinic who was sitting in the RE’s waiting room with caught my eye, and she kindly smiled at me. I smiled back and noticed that we had the same look on our faces. It was the look of hurt and disappointment, mixed with fear and hope for this cycle. It was like we looked at each other and secretly told one another how sorry we both were for one another, but that we were hopeful for the both of us. As she walked away she asked what attempt this was and I said 4, and she answered with 5. I wished her good luck, as she did the same, and we winked at one another, both hoping that we wouldn’t see each other at the clinic anymore. I know a lot of words, for such a small, and quick greeting, but I know for me, there was so much meaning behind and hurt, and hope behind it. While I waited for my turn to complete my “baby in a bag,” as I named it, I couldn’t help but wish that I could send one of those hopeful and kind smiles to all of the IF’s out there. I know that you can’t see me, but please know that I’m sending you all smiles and hopes right now.

And the medal of valor goes to…

ME!!! I did it. I actually gained the courage to call the IF clinic this morning. Apparently there have been huge changes since I’ve been gone. As usual, I called the shitty, sucky, never call me back message line to let the bitch of a nurse know that she had shown up. To my surprise, the voice on the message line didn’t sound like “her,” and usually you get the generic leave your name, social and phone number and will call you back within one business day.Not this time, I mean it does tell you that, but it also asks for patients interested in the WHMC RE clinic to call another number, the wait list is like 6-8 months to begin any treatment, and it would take at least 6 weeks to get a consult. It can never be a good sign when it says “due to high call volume.” WTF??!! I was getting pushed aside before we took those months off, because they we soo busy, now this??? Didn’t I just say that this go round I am EXPECTING to be treated like a patient, and not a cow going to slaughter? This can not be a good sign.

Like I said, I do appreciate the military for giving us such a great FREE gift, but what’s the point of enduring all of the needle pricks, dildo cams, sperm cups, and ejaculate rooms if the Drs. aren’t really invested in what they do, and how they treat patients. Everytime I go in there, I can tell that they really don’t care that they hold our hopes and dreams in their latex gloves. To them, we’re just part of the good or bad statistics, not a husband and wife who are fearful, hopeful, worried and desperate for a child of our own. They never allow any time for questions, hell they barely make eye contact with me. Maybe all of this has been the reason that I haven’t wanted to go back. Of course I’m terrified of the possibility that I could leave that clinic even more broken than I went in, and without a child. But those are doubts, and I can not let those doubts in. We have too much to lose in this and I can’t wrap my mind around not having biological child. But the way that they treat us, and they things that they do to show us that they don’t care is what really adds to everything. I’m sure the lovely Dr. prego that was very nice is out on maternity leave since it’s been like 3 months since I’ve been there. McDreamy probably won’t be there either. That means I’m left with one asshole after another. Lord I can only hope.

I’m trying to be optimistic about this whole thing. I really am. All I keep focusing on is my baby’s face. I think of the names I’ve picked, the colors that we chose for a nursery, I walk by baby clothes and try not to buy anything, hell sounds crazy, but I’ve already thought about what bottles we would use. All that’s missing is our baby. I’m not as scared as I was last month, which has to be a good sign. I can’t say that I’m completely prepared, but at least I didn’t break into a hysterics when she came last night. It was like, ok she’s here, get tampons, go for a walk and start clearing calendars. I guess that means I’m back in the trying for a baby race. Good luck to us all. I’ll be hoping for BFPs for all of us

Moving On

My temps haven’t dropped yet (99.00), but the brown spotting is a pretty good sign that we will be moving on to injections. I’m still fearful, and anxious, but, if I am to follow Mr. Olsteen’s rules, I can’t let myself think of the impossibilities. I am still very nervous about being back on Clomid…so is my DH. He mentioned to me that he’s not as stressed when I’m not on the med. since I have killer PMS. I don’t blame him. There were times when I hated myself, and I knew I was being a bitch. I did notice however, that after looking over my previous months of temps I started to realize that I was O’ing, but then only 11/12 days later I was cycling again. I don’t mean to be a hypochondriac, but I think its grounds enough to discuss, even if the docs don’t want to. Since the morning clinic is soo busy, there is never time to ask any questions, and if you do, you get this look as if they don’t want to be bothered. It’s as if all they are there for in the morning is to look at vajayjays, complete morning scans, count follies, and leave. We’re all basically on a cattle track. I’m lucky to even get my blood results from the last draw.

Now that I have had some time away from the clinic and know the routine, I feel much more confident in bringing my concerns to the table. I guess I also need to understand that there will only be three more shots at this, and I need to be as proactive as possible. I know I have said this before, and the last month I was treated I was. But that wasn’t enough. I deserve to be treated like a patient. A patient with fears, questions and concerns, and just because they are giving us such a great oppurtunity doesn’t mean that I have to feel like we owe them.

On another note, the 4th was actually really fun. I did find myself missing my family, but then I looked at my DH and realized that having him home this holiday is all the family that I need. Since he’s military, I often find myself looking to each holiday wondering if I will have to spend it alone due to a TDY or deployment. I’m grateful that I got this holiday with him.

In fact, starting this cycle, I am going to really try counting the blessings that I have, and praying for the ones that I don’t. I have never been real religious, but I’ve had it in my life, and I think I should start taking advantage of it.

Fireworks!!

 

My favorite holiday is just a few hours away, and I can not be more excited!!! the 4th has always been my favorite holiday. BBQ’s, beer, family, yummy treats, and yes…Fireworks. You see, my family, well, we’re all pyros and love lighting things on fire and then watching them explode. :0 FUN!!! But, it’s not the fun, food and fire that I love, it’s the memories that I have from each one. You see, holidays were always stressful for me and little brother because our bickering, hateful divorcedparents always had us on a time clock. Each holiday was divided in half days. Christmas morning, when most kids are opening presents and eating yummy breakfasts, me and bro had an alarm set to wake us up so we could get showered and dressed. Then we would have to be the first to open presents between mom’s family as to make sure that we had time to open presents and get in the car. After opening presents, saying thanks, and cleaning up Christmas wrap, we would have an hour to eat and get ready to be at Dad’s, by noon. Then we would rush through Christmas lunch with Dad because we had to be back at mom’s by five. WHEW!! I’m exhausted just writing it all out. Anyways, back to the original holiday, July 4thwas the only holiday that we didn’t rush. It was easy for us, afternoon BBQ with mom’s family, then once we got the chance to digest our food, play in the sprinklers and eat watermelon we mozied on over to Dad’s. Dad’s family the pyros, wouldn’t start a party until 5 since it took so long to get dark. But regardless that us kids knew we wouldn’t light fireworks until 9, we all would ask every hour on the hour if it was firework time. The 4this also my grandpa’s birthday so there would always be a patriotic birthday cake with sparklers for candles.

Aside from the relaxation of the holiday, happy memories have always been made each year on this day. I can remember one year when a bottle rocket hit a pine tree in a neighbor’s yard and instantly went up in flames. The neighbor’s who were at our house, laughed, and we grabbed buckets and hoses to put it out. Another year, with mom, we went to the park to watch the fireworks show mom and I walked to the nearby gas station to get snacks and drinks, then, while walking back..in the dark, we sat with some strangers, had a conversation with them and then realized that we had found the wrong family. Even last year, just a few days after my m/c my family was so supportive, and did exactly what I needed them to do. They didn’t dwell on it, make a big a deal of it, and let me decide how I felt. I needed that, and so did DH.

This year will be the first year EVER that I have been away from my families, and I have actually had anxiety on what we’re doing this year. Even worse, most of our friends are on vacation. We were originally gonna do our own 4th party, but with the ban of ALL fireworks, I really didn’t have the hostess feel. So, the first time, we will not have a traditional 4th party. But, we’re going to try something new. With our friends that are still here we decided to take a trip to Six Flags. It won’t be anything like I have ever experienced, but they’re gonna have fireworks and there is a waterpark, so it’s worth a shot. However, if I leave the park, even a little disappointed about the day, I will make sure that we are home every year after.

On the baby note, temp went up to 99.08 today from 98.60 yesterday, so I’m not too sure what that really means, but since I am not supposed to be stressing about the baby thing, I will ride ever roller coaster til I puke. After all, next month I’ll be pregnant and I won’t ride a roller coaster again for a long while.  Happy 4th to all of you!! May you all have fireworks in one way or the other.

“No Vacancy”

I have been pretty consistent with temping for this cycle and really only missed three days, when I was sick with a fever. I have been looking at the temps and Fertility Friend changed my O day from CD16 to CD17 which is wierd. Maybe that’s why I haven’t gotten knocked up yet. Ususally DH and I DTD every other day from CD8 to CD14/15 depending on what the lil OPK monitor tells us. By CD 17 we are so tired of doing it like rabbits we usually just coast through the rest of the cycle only doing it when we have the energy and we don’t have to work early. My temps for the last couple of days have been in the high 98’s (98.91, 98.93, 99.03) so I am a little hopeful, but as I said, my AF temps are always high too, so we’ll see. I guess I’m not going to stress about it too much. Afterall, DH and I both agreed that we both need to get back to makin a lab baby..and soon.

Sunday morning DH left for soccer practice, and while I was channel surfing I came across Joel Osteen. I’ve heard of him, and even seen him on morning TV shows, and always thought he was wayyy to cheesy and fake for me, but while I was mindlessly flipping through cable reruns I came across his sermon on TV. He was talking about the power of positive thinking. Ok God, I get it, I need to stop being such a dream squasher and give positivity a chance, I’ll listen to this blue eyed creepy southern boy who preaches in a mega church with a zillion people listening to him and talking about how bad his life had been…Just this once. He said that we forget the power that positive thinking can have on our actions, our bodies and our goals. He said that if we allow doubt to fill our minds then all we have in our life is doubt and questionable faith. WHAT?!?!?! You’re joking right? This got me to think, everything that I have ever had doubt about, our finances, my job, our baby, my lost pregnancy, and my shady family has always turned out for the worse. Now I know that the shitty things that have happened in my life aren’t all because I am a horribly pessimistic person, but he made me realize that my thinking that way has only made the situation worse. He also said that when others inflict doubt upon you, change it around and think only positive thoughts, or assure yourself that everything happens for a reason. So if your prayers and positive thinking don’t work out exactly the way you had hoped, remember that life does not always go according to plan, and therefore you must adapt. I must admit, through this entire infertility struggle, I have not fully accepted my struggle, and try to ignore it as frequently as possible thus not making me feel like I have to adapt. Mr. Osteen also said to train yourself to think positive, and hang a “No Vacancy” sign on your brain when you think pessimistic thoughts. While I’m at it, I think I will hang a Vacancy sign on my uterus just in case a baby needs a room to stay and grow.  He said that a person would be amazed what could happen if they just had a little faith and thought positively. Well, Mr. Osteen, I have hung my “No Vacancy” sign on my brain and employed my faith. I’ll try to keep it up, for as long as AF is gone and my temps are still high…But if I wake to a red morning, your southern boy charm can kiss my ass.. Don’t worry, I will stay positive and tell myself that there is a reason I slammed your bony ass to the ground. :O.

 

Damn those little sticks

So I peed on my OPK and guess what?!?! According to that I am ovulating now. Both lines were equal, but of course my temps have changed and are not in agreement with the OPK. I am trying to sort all of it out, and will probably ask my doctor for clarification, and now for the great news….I ovulated all by myself!! No Clomid, Metformin, or trigger. I have never had a problem with that, in fact, even before we started with our RE I was consistently ovulating, therefore I don’t think it’s that. I have been doing some more reading, and found that my negative (A-) blood type may have something to do with it. I’m not sure though, I have only consulted Dr. Google, and WebMD on this and they both have conflicting opinions, but I will continue on my quest to determine a reason for my “unexplained infertility.”

As you can tell, I am officially on the baby bandwagon again, well, for right now at least. I am very hopeful for this cycle, and can only ask Him for help. There’s been a lot going on lately with other friends, so I wouldn’t be offended if he listened to them over me this month. Our best friends, who actually married each other are living in CA, but were preparing for a move back home, but the worst thing that could have happened did. His father suffered a totally unexpected aneurysm and was in a coma. Early this morning, after conducting more tests, they confirmed that he was clinically brain dead. They chose to end his ventilation and he died shortly after. This was such a surprise for them both, and to tell you the truth, I still feel like this hasn’t happened. I feel terrible for them, and right now, any problem that I thought I had seems quite insignificant. Thank God, I still have my mom and dad, and DH has his. They are all in really good health, but we did have a scare with his mother over a year ago, and with BF’s dad dying it really made me pray that our children will get to know their “abuelos,” grandma and grandpa’s and GG’s. Life is so fragile, I learned that when I lost our baby Binx. One day it’s there and the next it’s not. I am praying for the end of a good man’s life, yet praying for the beginning of my baby’s. I feel selfish, and absolutely horrible that our Godson, who is only 16 months old will never get to know his Grandpa G, nor will he ever be blessed with any memory of him. Over the last 24 hours I have been counting my blessings, and yet still praying for one more. Why does God touch our lives Good and Bad the way that he does? Is it to test us and see how far we will go, or for us to test him? I’m not sure really how to feel right now, I don’t want to be optimistic for my own reasons, and yet want to show how sorry I am for our friends. I know I could do both, but I believe deeply in Karma, and I don’t want that kind of shit to come back and bite me in my ass.

**UPDATE

I have somewhat figured out how to feel from yesterday. Today is my anniversary and I must say, I am actually truly excited about being married to DH for 4 years!!!! I actually think I love him more than I did when I married him. We were just kids when we said “I do,” and now four years later, I am starting to realize just what type of love we have. When we got married it was the exciting new beginning that I had hoped for. But as we got older, and time passed..along with my fertility, our love became different. Good, but different. Somewhere between the countless negative HPTs, tears, negative bank accounts, lost jobs, the military, shared living quarters, a miscarriage, a move from my home and family and shitty doctors our life went right. Now I’m not saying it went perfect, but between all of that there were laughs, friendships, a beautiful new home, more family than I can handle, and relationship made of trust and hope. Yes, you can say it, corny, but call it what you’d like, our marriage and my love for him is stronger than I could have hoped for. After our friend’s loss of his dad, all I can hope for now is to continue living the life that we have built TOGETHER. It would be wonderful if we added a beautiful bouncing baby somewhere along the way, but right now I need to be counting the blessings that I have. My biggest, having a husband who has stuck by me, especially during my Clomid, dildo cam, not pregnant meltdowns. That alone, deserves a medal of fortitude.