A post that slightly resembles a novel..

So.

I've actually been thinking about this for awhile now. I originally created this blog for makeup, cool crafts, and nail tips...

Then I got a job and got lazy haha.

Therefore this blog has really been neglected. 

However...

There have been some events in my life (some recent, some not so recent) that I really haven't had a place to talk and or vent about. Part of me is kind of worried about what people will think or say, so I probably wont post any links to this on Facebook. So if you follow me on here (all three of you haha) then you can read all the madness!! If not, then this is just a space for me to get all of my thoughts out on metaphorical paper. 

I'm not exactly subtle about the fact that I want a baby more than anything. What I don't share with many is the reasons WHY I don't have one, or the steps that I've taken to get where I want to be. Maybe because its a little embarrassing, maybe its because I'm tired of people telling me I'm, "too young" and "not to worry!" Maybe those things are true. I don't know. But what I do know, is this is whats right for my husband and I. And at the end of the day, thats really all that matters.

 

Back story...

Spencer and I have been trying to conceive for over two years now. I have been seeing an infertility specialist for about 18 months (give or take a deployment or a field training exercise or two.) I have had more people look at my crotch region than Id care to discuss (for medical purposes of course hahaha)

And what all this testing has shown us is, that I'm not just crazy, well in this scenario at least. I do actually have, "a problem"

I have PCOS. Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I'll spare you my terrible explanation of the whole thing, but basically its a hormonal imbalance that comes with lots of fun side effects. Weight gain, painful cysts on your ovaries, facial hair (mustache anyone?), and you guessed it. Trouble conceiving. 

I have done multiple cycles with Clomid *an ingestible medication used to make you ovulate*, some with steroids (that made me a peach to be around) some without. So many in fact, that my Dr. says that I have, "exhausted all medical efforts with the drug." 

I know, it really doesn't sound that terrible. And really, it could be worse. But I will tell you that having an..ahem...internal ultrasound with a bushy eyebrowed man, slightly resembling Bert from the Sesame Street duo every week, isn't my favorite thing in the entire world. 

January of last year comes around, and the pressures on. Spencer was set to deploy the following month, and if we were going to get pregnant before he left, it had to be then!

Side note, when you're TTCing *trying to conceive* you become a little addicted to taking pregnancy tests. Especially when you're like me, and never get your period on your own you think, "Yea, I'm probably pregnant!! I coughed three times yesterday, and wanted to eat a lot of soup. That's a symptom of pregnancy right?! BETTER TEST!"

Needless to say, those aren't symptoms. And basically at the end of the day, I just play really really mean mind tricks on my mind..

Back to the story..

So I once again had decided I would take a pregnancy test!! When I came back in the room....

It was positive. 

I swear I almost died. All I could do was call for Spencer to come look to make sure I wasn't crazy. He saw it too, so I scheduled a blood test.

False positives are like what... 1% likely?

I'm that lucky.

No really. I should play the lottery.

I was not pregnant. And had looked stupid in the process. I hoped and prayed that maybe they mixed up by blood results!! But many more tests showed the same conclusion. My uterus was vacant. 

I was completely crushed. My husband was about to leave me for six months, and I couldn't even get this one thing right before he left. 

As time went on I got over it. I used the six months we were apart as a break for my body, and really focused on working out every day and eating right. I even lost 20 pounds! By the time he came home I wasn't even thinking that much about getting pregnant. But like that nagging dream in the back of your mind, the urge came back. It was time for me to go back to my specialist, and begin treatment again. I really wasn't even sure if I wanted to deal with the entire process again. People always say, "You're so lucky! Trying is the funnest part!" 

But thats not exactly true when every hormone you make is monitored, and your love life is on a schedule. 

I did it anyways. Spencer and I both want this, so I sucked it up, and decided to go round two with infertility! I would beat the bitch this time!!

February came. I ACTUALLY ovulated! I felt like my child had won the spelling bee. I was so proud. I thought for sure that this would be it!! 

When going through infertility treatments, after you ovulate you  have to wait two weeks to find out if you're pregnant or not. They call it the two week wait, and it is terrible. 

I waited, and waited as each day went by. With every little thing my body did, I would google it to see if it was a pregnancy symptom. (I  told you, I really like to, for the lack of a better word, mindfuck myself..)

I had made it to 10 DPO (days past ovulation) I was almost there!! 

And then..

My period came.

I was crushed. I had always thought that if only I could get my stupid body to ovulate things would happen! 

My sister-in-law/best friend and I lovingly call my right ovary Diane, and always talk about how lazy she is, and how she never does anything right. 

If I could just get Diane to stop being a bitch, life would be great. Thats all I needed. 

This was all too clear that, that was not the case.

I spent a few days crying in bed, but eventually decided to get up, and try this thing again.

What was next on the agenda?

Injectables.

Thats right. I would have to start giving myself a shot. 

Little fact that you probably don't know about me. I am TERRIFIED of needles. My dad still makes fun of the fact that the first time I had my blood drawn, nurses and doctors from the office I was at, looked all around for the car crash victim I was so hysterical.

Its not fun.

But again, this is something Spencer and I want. If I have to stab myself in the stomach every day for awhile, but get a baby in the end, I don't care. I'll do it.

You should have seen me the first time. I paced back and forth in my kitchen for a good 40 min crying and telling myself, "You can do it! You can do it!! No you cant. You cant do it." My poor husband was so patient, and even took a sterile need and stuck himself to show me it wasn't that bad.

I worked up the courage, and did it. And he was right. I didn't even feel it. Every day I got more and more confident. Im practically a professional now.

April comes, and things go on like this, for 16 days. Oh, and don't let me forget to mention I got to have a hot date with "Bert" every four days.

The day had finally come. I had not one, but TWO huge follicles!! That meant that soon, I was going to ovulate again. I was cautiously optimistic. 

It was time for Spencer to go to FTX (a field training they do every year before deployment) for a month, and he would come back and I would either be pregnant, or not pregnant.

The day that I was due to test was Mothers Day. I told myself that this would either end up being the worst day in the entire world, or the best.

I took my test. 

It was positive. Now, my body likes to be an a-hole and trick me. So I took three more, one being a digital. I was pregnant. 

I decided I wasn't going to tell Spencer until he got home. I went to the doctor and had it confirmed, I was around 4 weeks pregnant. I couldn't hold it in. I told more people than I should have, but I didn't care. This was the single greatest thing that has ever happened to me!!

When you get pregnant, they do a blood test and check your "BETA levels." As long as the HCG hormone in my blood doubled within the next 48 hours, things looked good. 

They didn't.

They increased by 20.

They told me that, that wasn't a good sign. And I of course went to google to tell me my fate. Some women had low BETA numbers in the beginning, and went on to have healthy full term babies. I was holding out hope. Another 48 hours goes by, and I have another blood test. I spent the entire day praying in my head for the number to be doubled. 

Then I got the phone call. I could tell the tone in her voice wasn't good, and I tried to prepare myself. Not only did my numbers not increase, they decreased. 

I would go on to miscarry a few days later.

I didn't even get to be happy for a week.

My entire world was crashing down around me, and my husband. The person who shared in this as much as me, didn't even know I was pregnant..

I had to call him and tell him the amazing news, followed up with the crappy. 

Not only did I lose our little microscopic baby, but I now had to face the fact that I had to tell all the people I had told I was pregnant, that things changed.

Everyone tried to have the right things to say. But no one did. I just needed time.

While I realize that so many other things could have happened, and that this isn't the worst thing in the world. This was the worst thing in MY world.

I didn't even start to feel like myself again for two weeks. To be honest, I'm not even sure if I even feel like myself yet.

And now were back at that so familiar starting line again. Spencer deploys in a couple months, and we have one last chance to try again before he leaves.

Maybe this time will be our time. Maybe it wont. But what I do know is, I don't want to be alone in this anymore. This isn't a dirty little secret, or a ploy for attention. This is my life. And no matter how shitty it seems, its perfectly imperfect. And I love it.