Baby Showers Suck

I kind of alluded in my Monday post to an awkward baby shower on Sunday…here are the details.

In the past, I have handled baby showers quite well…but now I’m over 30 (my previous deadline to be done child bearing and I haven’t even begun), and it’s been 6 years of failure after failure…and my patience for these things is running out really fast.

On Sunday I had a baby shower for my cousin, who is 21 and also a PCOS sufferer. Unlike me, she had every classic symptom of PCOS and was pretty much told she would struggle immensely to have children. She was only 18 when she found out, and I was a support for her through the initial diagnosis. She wasn’t planning on having children until over 30, so she wasn’t worried at all. I worried enough for both of us … knowing she likely had a hard road ahead of her.

Imagine my surprise when she announced she had accidentally gotten pregnant with her on again-off again boyfriend (they just had sex ONE TIME and bam, pregnant). Add with that the fact that neither she, nor her boyfriend, have jobs or go to school and they live in a room in her Mom’s already overcrowded house. Fast forward 7 months – they still do not have jobs, and are not trying to get jobs, and still live with her Mother in one tiny room too small for their bed and a crib. There has been zero preparation for this babies arrival. At the shower on Sunday, she announced that the first sleeper she was given was the very first sleeper she had for the baby…who is due in just 6 weeks. She was given a bassinet by her Aunt and Uncle, and she said she is so relieved because that is the only bed for the baby – and hopefully he won’t grow out of it for a couple years because there is no space for a bigger bed (a couple YEARS…babies grow out of bassinets in a couple months!).

I am trying SO HARD not to judge, but you guys…I’m JUDGING.

 

Add onto all of that – they had this stupid game where cupcakes were baked, and one had a baby inside. Whoever got the baby was the next new Mama, and got a prize plus was given the hat they made from the ribbons and bows (as a kind of “passing of the torch”).

Naturally, I avoided this game like the plague. I knew I couldn’t handle it.

My Mom and sisters didn’t, though, so OF COURSE my Mom was the one to get the stupid baby. The hostess then announced it must be a grandchild, and every looked at me because neither of my sisters want more kids.

Cue the intelligent, kind women I know turning into blubbering, baby starved fools. There were comments “When ARE you going to get pregnant?”, or “It’s about time…you’ve been married HOW long?” and my personal favourite “Enjoy your social life, sleeping in and quiet house now because babies change everything!”…followed by knowing giggles and belly pokes. They didn’t seem to mind that I am not actually pregnant nor the fact that a stupid game of luck doesn’t determine when or if I will ever get pregnant.

I bailed immediately after. I didn’t even say goodbye to anyone, and I didn’t take the stupid ribbon hat.

I think I will stay home from baby showers going forward.

Do you go to baby showers? What are some tricks/tips you use to get through them?

 

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Where we are now

In case you missed it: check this out first. 

Where are we now?

Well, we’re feeling relieved, and angry, and sad, and frustrated…in that order. But still, I don’t think there is an ounce of us that thinks we should dive into IVF.

To rewind – for some time (like, I’m talking 7 years or 2555 days or 364 weeks or 84 months or approx. 70 cycles) we have tried our best to conceive without too much medical/surgical intervention. Medical and surgical intervention is a beautiful, miraculous thing and I am so happy it exists – but for us, we have always known we would not do much in the way of medical/surgical interventions (for plenty of reasons: health, prognosis, side effects, anxiety/fear, finances, the fact that I have only one ovary/ fallopian and stakes are high if I have an ectopic or another cyst, etc.). This is the one thing we have consistently stuck by, and believed in, though out these rocky years.

We have tried pretty much every vitamin/ mineral/ miracle substance/ essential oil/ acupuncture/ massage/ work out routine / diet you can think of to help boost our fertility. We have tried BBT, CM charting and fert.ility fri.end. Mr. Big has not been in a hot tub or worn anything tighter than boxers in 5 years. We have tried prayer, meditation, Reiki and even human sacrifice (just kidding on that last one). We have tried “relaxing, and letting it happen” and we have tried “Sex three times/day, every day”. I have peed on every kind of stick there is to pee on and I have had enough of the fun and glamorous fertility testing (I’m looking at you, dildo cam wearing a little condom hat) to last me a life time. I have taken the ovulation inducing meds, the hormone replacements, the meds they give you to combat the side effects of the aforementioned meds, and – of course – the prenatals that are so huge they should be inserted, rather than swallowed.

And then, four weeks ago, we approached the point in our infertility journey where we need to move forward with IVF, or stop.

We spent countless hours and days thinking, wondering and worrying about those two options. Lots of things went through my mind: “if I REALLY wanted a child, I wouldn’t even consider stopping”, “I’m letting down my parents, my in-laws, my sisters, my nephews”, “Mr.Big should leave me and marry someone fertile”, “What kind of a woman am I when I can’t even do the ONE thing women’s bodies were *made* for?” , “If I were stronger, I would be fighting to the death for this”, “Maybe the reason I can’t have kids, is because I shouldn’t”, etc. etc….

Then, we finally decided to listen to our guts: it is time to stop.

The decision was not, and continues to not be, easy. Every day I go back and forth and wonder if I made a mistake, if we just try one more cycle… but I know if I don’t stop myself, everything that we DO have will fall apart. I love children more than anything in the entire world – but we know, inherently, that this is not the path we are meant to be on. We can feel it in our hearts, our minds, and our souls. The damage that is being done to ourselves is immense already (as you all know) and this is not the way we want to become parents.

We have battle scars. We’re both heavier, with more unhealthy habits than we had pre-infertility and our levels of self esteem are so low, they’re in a heap on the bathroom floor most days. Social settings – once fun and relaxing – are now awkward and uncomfortable because everyone in our life is a raging, fertile parent or parent-to-be. The questions and comments at these social events still bring me to my knees. I have one less one ovary and fallopian due to a “twisted cyster”, believed to be brought on by the med. cocktail I was on. I can’t remember the last time we went on a vacation (actually, have we ever??) because we were always afraid to book one in case I got pregnant and we didn’t want to worry about cancelling if I was sick/ high risk/ if the area had dangerous virus (like Zika)…so we just didn’t book anything. Our entire life was on hold, waiting for the day when our HPT would come up positive… for 2555 days our lives have been on hold.

I don’t know what the future has in store for us. I sure hope it involves raising and parenting children – but if it doesn’t, I can accept that too (that makes my throat burn just to type that…so maybe rather than “I can accept that too”, I should say “I will work to accept that too, should that be our path”). I am so blessed in that my sisters allow us to have an active role in our nephews’ lives, allowing us to be a part of so many of the things we would otherwise miss. Our lives are not void of the blessings of parenting, they’re just structured in a slightly different way.

Mr. Big and I are still in recovery mode, trying to piece our selves and our lives back together. I think we want to take a vacation (one that we’ve been putting off in case I got pregnant), and then we will sit down and enroll in some adoption and fostering classes and get thinking about this next phase of our lives.

 

#Microblogmondays – Confessions

I had one of those weekends that digs deep beneath the facade of your life, and rips from it (sometimes painfully) the truth of who you really are. There’s this thing that I’ve been rolling around in my brain for a while now, at first it began as a this little niggling that has grown into something much more. I cart it around like a dirty secret, guarding it from everyone, terrified to share it…but I need to share it. So here it is…my deep, dark confession early on a Monday: I don’t know if I want kids anymore.

Do you know what Mr. Big said when I told him? Yes, I feel that way too.

Here we were, carting around this scary, debilitating secret – privately, but in tandem – and we didn’t even know the other was having the same scary thoughts.

We spent Sunday morning in bed, wrapped in each others arms, having one of those heart to hearts that define your relationship. In the end, we determined 3 very important things:

  1. We still love kids. We LOVE kids. If kids came easy to us, we’d have a hundred at least four by now.
  2. But they don’t come easy to us, and this path – the one we are currently down while we TTC – is not only something we actually don’t want, but it feels very wrong for us. We both dread it in the way you dread a colonscopy.
  3. We would rather be a kick ass Aunt and Uncle, happily married, dedicated volunteers of many causes, dog parents, musicians, and productive members of society than go through what we will need to go through to become parents.

So where does this leave us? I don’t actually know. Mr. Big doesn’t know either. I guess that’s kind of how life works, isn’t it? All of us in this together, not really knowing. I can finally say I actually understand those bloggers who choose to pull the plug on conventional treatments, and just let whatever is going to happen, happen. I am there, now. Totally there. It doesn’t mean I don’t still hope for a miracle, that we will conceive, and everything will be ok. It doesn’t mean the idea of living out our life childless doesn’t fill me with sadness right now. It just means that we won’t, we cannot, commit to this life any more. Those of you who are deeper and further into it than me are amazing – and you deserve every thing you work and pray and hope for – because this shit is hard. Harder than anything I have ever been through – and for us, it is too hard to continue.

I’m not sure how, or what, we will tell our families. I feel the need to tell them something – perhaps just that we’ve decided to stop treatment and let life happen? I don’t know yet. I just know I can’t do this anymore, and neither can he.

For more on #microblogmonday, please see Mel’s blog Stirrup Queens

#Microblog Mondays – PCOS is Fickle

Has anyone noticed how fickle some reproductive conditions can be?

I have PCOS. It’s supposed to be what is causing my infertility, yet the only symptoms I have are irregular cycles (range between 28-42 days), occasional annovulation and a visibly polycystic ovary noted on my last laproscopic surgery. Yet I know people with PCOS, with pretty much every symptom in the book, who are conceiving easily and without issue.

What gives? Why does PCOS chose some people and not others? How come it seems like every PCOSer I know, who is not doing half of the things I’m doing to be healthy, is getting pregnant while I remain barren?

I’m trying really hard not to be bitter or jealous, but I’m losing that battle. I’m not even sure if it’s bitterness or jealousy, it’s mostly just incredible, consuming sadness.

Sometimes, life stinks.

What do you do to get away from the bitterness/jealousy/sadness?

For more on MicroblogMondays – click here

#ThoughtfulThursday – POAS PTSD

Does any one else have an anxiety filled, PTSD like reaction to the mere idea of POAS?

I do – and it’s become such a big thing that I cannot use one. It literally makes me sick.

We have been TTC for 6.5 years. In those 6.5 years, I have peed on thousands of tests (HPT and OPK). Not one *NOT ONE* has ever been positive…this is closest we’ve ever been to a positive of any kind.

I’m currently a ball of anxiety because I’m at that point in my cycle (CD39) where I should take a test…. but I just can’t bring myself to do it. The devastation (and it is devastation) is too hard for my heart right now and I just don’t think I can handle it. I can’t deal with the downslide that comes from the inevitable negative test … the self loathing, the sadness, the anger, the frustration. And then , when it is negative, I just convince myself that I didn’t take it at the right time, or I ovulated later than I thought and therefore may be too early to a positive HPT…and so I keep taking tests over and over, until I finally get my period and then slide into the abyss for 5-7 days.

It’s a violent, penetrative cycle…and it’s easily my most hated part of infertility. I have an appointment for blood work on July 14th…by then I should know for sure…but I don’t know if I can make it.

What do you do – HPT or wait for blood work? Does anyone else share in this fear?

Fertility Update

It’s been quite a while since I gave a little fertility update…so it’s overdue.

Here is a little background:

  • Started TTC 6 years ago, with zero success
  • After 1 year, diagnosed with “probably PCOS” – no blood markers, no insulin resistant, no visible cysts on the ovaries but a family history and horrendous periods and sent to the top PCOS specialist in the country
  • Determined to be annovulatory and tried 3 cycles Clomid, break, 3 cycles Femara, break. No BFP – just a myriad of awful side effects and an emergency surgery to remove a ballooned cyst that contorted and killed one ovary and fallopian tube. Post surgery – advised that IVF is the only option and referred to the regional fertility program.
  • Got almost to the actual retrieval, and panicked and cancelled it all. I was having horrific side effects from the meds, I was struggling emotionally and we were across the country from all of our family and support systems. Mr. Big agreed I needed a break, and in that time we packed up and moved back home to be closer to family.
  • Over the next year we worked on getting healthy, losing weight (60lbs, woot woot) and settling into our new house and new life – so glad we made this move! It was absolutely the right thing for us.
  • Around September of 2016 I started to get the itch again. We had been just “letting it happen” for almost two years without success…so I approached my family Doctor who was super supportive and we came up with a game plan. Since we have known fertility issues, we opted to try naturally for 6 months and then move on to an RE. Because so much has changed in my health, we will need to start again from scratch – but I’m OK with that. I had just turned 30 and felt like we have time to work from the bottom up…and I really hate any kind of fertility meds because I seem to get every side effect, so I wanted to avoid that if at all possible.
  • I had a bunch of blood work and tests, and they all came up great.
  • In March, we began our 6 months of TTC prior to RE referral. So far, no natural pregnancy…and despite that we’re not using any hormones, I am feeling like crap all around (as though I am using Clomid). Due to that, my Doctor orders some extra blood work which ends up showing I have Hypothyroidism (which is new, as I had my thyroid tested last year and it was all normal). So yay – Hypothyroidism (not). The good news is that it can sometimes cause a lot of the issues I’ve been struggling with, so getting this under control is good for my fertility. The bad news is it may make no difference at all… but that’s OK. It’s still worth a shot!

And otherwise, we are just waiting and seeing! 3 months of TTC down, 3 more to go before we get out the big guns.

WTF – Possibly the most negative post I’ve ever written, please forgive me for my nastiness but, for real, WTF

I work SUPER hard not to be jealous or bitter about our inability to conceive while being surrounded by super fertile family and friends who are constantly having surprise pregnancies. I do…because I DON’T want to bitter or nasty, but sometimes….sometimes, I just have to let it out. Please be gentle with me, I know this post is not my usual style but I just have to get it off my chest.


There is this girl I have known all my life (MM). Her family has been friends of my parents since forever, and for as long as I can remember, she has been a deplorable human being.

She has zero concern for anyone but herself, and is totally OK with ruining someone else’s life for her own satisfaction, based on completely false claims. She lies…oh she lies. She lies about people abusing her, she lies about pregnancies and miscarriages (to date, has claimed 15 in two years, all within 3 weeks of each other…and includes 14-16 week ultrasound photos, with the names blurred out, claiming she is “3 weeks pregnant today!”), she lies about experiences and services received at local businesses – and then she spreads her lies in hopes of hurting the business. She spews hate and racism like it’s her job. She cheats on her husband shamelessly, without any concern for who knows. She treats her parents – who have given her everything – like garbage. She refuses to work, and instead lives off the government and is constantly complaining that she is not getting as much money or benefits as she deserves because she is 1/265th Aboriginal, and therefore entitled to the same benefits (? Ya, ok? Blond haired, blue eyed white girl). She has received multiple interventions over her life time to try to help her, but she simply does not agree that she has any kind of problem. The worst part is? She posts this stuff all over face.book for everyone to see and doesn’t see anything wrong with that. (For perspective, she joined a group for Support for Teen Mothers on F.B….and then posted hateful, nasty comments wishing them all miscarriages and/or stillbirths. Her excuse was that she has struggled with infertility (her fake pregnancies and fake miscarriages) so she is allowed to be bitter. They deleted and blocked her, but not before she accused them all of being whores and incapable of adequate parenting – asking them all to “throw themselves down a set of stairs before they ruin another kids life”.

This is all 100%, actual truth that I could show you from her Fa.ce.book wall. Horrific, right? Probably the worst person I’ve ever known. The logical person in me says she is obviously hurting, and miserable, but the other part of me says – who isn’t? That doesn’t give you the excuse to be so SO HORRIBLE.

So imagine my surprise (not) when she posted another pregnancy announcement. I expected the customary 3 week miscarriage announcement, followed by the collection of sympathy and gifts…but it didn’t come. Then, there was an ultrasound photo WITH HER NAME ON IT, captioned “infertility survivor” (Please tell me this makes you boil too?)! That was when the lead ball dropped into my stomach.

Then – yesterday – I ran into her Mom and she confirmed (she appeared majorly stressed about it) that MM is, in fact, pregnant. 16 weeks, to be exact.

What. The. Fuck.

How does someone so cruel, so unpleasant, so malicious get blessed with a baby?? How?? How is that fair for that poor child who will, undoubtedly, suffer? There is nothing in the world that will change MM, she has been this unpleasant since she was born – so HOW CAN THIS BE FAIR? To the child, to the world, and to people who are *actually* infertile, and also decent human beings who want nothing more than a little human to love??

Whatthefuck. Whatthefuck. Whatthefuck. Whatthefuck. Whatthefuck. Whatthefuck. Whatthefuck.

That’s all I have to say. Now I will return to being a kind, nice, genuine human being because there are NOT enough of us in the world, and I will get back in the line of similar people waiting for OUR miracle babies…(even though, for some reason I will never understand, they are given to people like MM).