So here we are

So for the past two and a half years, my husband and I have been trying to conceive.  And it's a very slow moving process in a very impatient world.  My husband and I have been best friends for years and finally got around to dating and then marriage.  Married after five years of the closest friendship I've ever known and then about a year and a half of dating.  It's great.  Things are really good for us.  So then you know the song--- the baby carriage was next.  

So in March of 2008 we went au naturel and said good bye to birth control.  The timing seemed right.  Late twenties, things are a little more stable (but not set in stone).  Seemed very good to begin trying for a baby.  I knew that I had some issues, but trusted that I would eventually get pregnant in the right timing.  So, we embarked in the journey for about a year and things just weren't happening.  

"When are you two going to have kids?"  


I hate this question.  It's like my life is not complete without a baby?  It is.  I love my life.  Would it be enhanced with a new little one that looks and acts like us, breaking our stuff and eating our food-  of course!!!  I love babies and really love when they become kids (I actually like the why game).  So, I do want kids.  But I do not want this awkward question.  And after a year of failure, it is too much.  I get snippy when interrogated and I think it sometimes comes off like I do not want kids.  I just get tired of the pressure.  If we don't have kids, ask in a caring way.  Why do people have to ask in such a way that it demands an answer.  


Then others like to make jokes.  Let me be clear, I understand how this works.  I don't need a manual, we don't need time alone and we wouldn't question your sex life... thank you very much... Please don't tell me about my rapidly ticking biological clock or tell me "my eggs are getting cold."  You can't push someone into having kids, even if there is nothing wrong.


After this past year, I felt like exploding at them all--- "I'm broken!" followed by lots of expletives.  But I refrain as that may make the next family function a bit awkward.  I love people. And I know that they see a couple that should be making babies that they can hold and celebrate.  But I just want to be left alone.  Please do not rub my nose in it one more time.  I know it's there and it's out of my control.  This was me in October 2009 when I said "no" to morning testing routines, cycle day counting and "personal summers" from my fertility meds. Every doctor we went to told us to go to a specialist, but this admits defeat.  And I couldn't handle it.  

When you lose a child to miscarriage, there's a way to say that.  It's a pinpointed event that you can grieve.  When you grieve every time you get another one of Mother Nature's gifts each month (or month and a half), it's enough to drive you insane. You just feel empty, hallowed out to the soul.  It's unfair, but yet somehow you feel guilty (if I would lose weight, have sex more, have sex less, test more, work out more, etc).  

For some, the option is bitterness.  "Why do people that can't take care of their kids get pregnant?"  I can't go here.  My situation is not dependent on what gifts God gives to others.  Do I wish it were my turn?  Absolutely.  But I can't take away the miracle that life when it's given to someone other than me.   When my best friend was pregnant, I was ecstatic.  She didn't have the long wait (baby was a wonderful surprise) or the agonizing over what treatment option, etc.  And I celebrated that full heartedly.  I just wanted to be able to share in the experience.  But there I was with no baby to compare stories with.  No idea how to set up play pens or car seats.  She had stepped into a different world and I was still here.  

So a little broken, but I just kept reading and kept praying (or trying to on the bad days) for me to be in His will.  Hannah of the Bible has become my heroine.  I was/am scared of pushing so hard for what I want that I get it instead of what He wants that is perfect for me.  I just want to be in the center of what He wants for me.  I then picked up photography and have taken millions of photos through this.  It's very therapeutic.  It gets me centered.  As you can tell, I am a ball of random energy today.  But I have to explain where I've been to see where I'm going.  

And where am I going?  Last month, I finally faced my fears that a specialist would tell me that there was more wrong with me than I already knew and we went.  I was told a less bleak outlook.  I picked up a second opinion and changed doctors while doing another fabulous round of meds to enhance my chances of working. And as of yesterday- we look pregnant.  Ultrasound showed eggs and ovaries and a tiny little sack (that Andy couldn't make out at all).  So don't get too excited, though.  It's very early (week 3-4) and the numbers aren't looking great yet.  I'm hopeful, but don't want to get attached to the idea until I know it's not chemical which is what it sounds like at this point.  

So, tomorrow more blood work (lab techs will know my name by the time we're done) and I should know my chances.  Progesterone is good, but the HCG is low.  That's not what you want to hear, but at least we've made it this far.  I can feel changes and it's exciting, but I'm desperately trying to let this be in God's hands.  Meanwhile, we await.