Rest in peace, grandpa.

My grandpa passed on Monday morning and was laid to rest today (Friday). We just got home tonight, after getting to my hometown Wednesday afternoon and spending Wednesday and Thursday night in a hotel.

It was an exhausting, confusing, taxing, depressing, stressful, exhausting exhausting exhausting weekend. But also a tiny bit fun because I got to see so many family members. I got drunk, didn't sleep nearly enough, and pumped in both a closet at the funeral home and a men's restroom at the parish hall.

Traveling with a 15 week old is no joke - especially a 15 week old who has his first cold. Poor baby. He's had diarrhea and sounds like a little piglet when he tries to breathe. He also has a pathetic little cough. It breaks my heart.

He did not sleep well at all while we were gone, but did take some good naps because we packed up his swing, which was a pain in the ass but totally worth it. We co-slept in the hotel bed because I couldn't bear to listen to him snorting over in the crib.

I spent the better part of 6-7 hours preparing for this trip (packing, laundry, cleaning the house for our house sitter, etc), but luckily I think unpacking will go more smoothly.

Alex was my grandpa's first (and only) great-grandchild. There was a large flower arrangement on the casket: yellow roses, mums, and carnations, with white daisies. There were ribbons that said "dad", "husband", "grandfather", etc. And tucked in the corner of the casket, one tiny yellow rose with a "great-grandfather" ribbon. It went into the grave with him. He didn't get to know Alex very long, but he sure was special to him for three short months.

I look forward to the day I can take big boy Alex to grandpa's grave and tell him that there's a tiny rose from him resting with his great-grandpa.

I'm sad.

Saying goodbye to my grandpa

Today I went to say goodbye to my grandpa.

It's all going much faster than anyone anticipated. He went home last week for hospice care, and I've talked to my mom every day since then. At first it was "He looks good, he's sitting up in bed eating egg salad." Then, early this week, she said "Dad had a rough night because he saw frustration in grandpa's eyes." A few days ago, it was "He's starting to sound a little confused." Sometime in the past 48 hours everyone came to understand that we were coming to say goodbye, not to visit.

He was nowhere near sitting up in bed eating egg salad. He has no mobility other than some jerky arm movements and a little bit of neck control. He speaks clearly, but so softly that it's very difficult to make out what he says. Last night, he had to repeat himself three times, until he finally said "Do I have a speech impediment?" Haha. Oh, grandpa.

He has started getting much less coherent. He would kind of fall asleep and then wake up. I'd smile at him and he'd say "Did you bring the baby?" even though he'd already seen the baby. Each time I said "Yes, we did!" and brought Alex in. He liked to touch Alex's soft skin and smile at him. Once he said "It was a long time coming", which I think was a reference to our infertility. These were good, clear moments.

At other moments he'd just look at my dad and say "Is the door locked?" "Yes, dad, the door's locked, don't worry about it." Or, he'd look around the room and say "We all have a lot of work to do." He kept acting like he was taking pills, even though the need for pills passed long ago. He'd look in his blankets for pills he thought he had dropped.

I liked to just sit there and hold his hand. Once, he woke up and looked at me, and I said "Is it okay if I hold your hand?" And he squeezed my hand in his. That meant a lot to me because he has so little strength.

When it was time for us to leave, I went in to say one final goodbye. I said "grandpa, I just wanted to say goodbye." I stroked his face and his arm. He said goodbye to me and kind of started mumbling. I said "You know that I love you, right?" and he looked at me with vacant eyes and asked "Who are you?"

My heart stopped. I said "I'm Lulu. I'm your granddaughter." The focus came back in his eyes and he said something about being embarrassed. I said don't worry grandpa, don't be embarrassed, just rest. He mumbled a little bit more. I told him again that I loved him and asked if I could give him a hug. He brought his arms around me which, again, I knew took a lot of strength.

I think I jogged his memory because when my husband took Alex in to say goodbye, he called my husband by name and told him to take care of both of us.

The last time I had seen my grandpa was on the fourth of July. He wasn't feeling well, but was happy. He held Alex and fed him a bottle. In just a few weeks he's now bedridden, practically immobile, breathing with a lot of effort -- dying. On the fourth of July he was okay. Now, he's dying.

Last October, just 10 short months ago, we went to tell him and my grandma that we were pregnant. My grandpa got tears in his eyes and told me how happy he was. He wrote an advice card for me for my baby shower in March. Now, he wouldn't even be able to hold a pen.

I think some of my family members think I misunderstood, that he wasn't bad enough to forget who I was. But I heard him clearly, and saw the way he felt foolish afterwards. But I also felt his arms around me when I left and in that moment, I knew he knew who I was.

Word vomit

Some random things that I just want to write down so I remember them, whether or not they pertain to this blog.

#1.  My grandpa is dying. He has been ill since Alex was born, and has been in and out of hospitals. Finally he was diagnosed with brain cancer and made a halfhearted attempt at radiation before choosing hospice. Yesterday he came home to a hospital bed where his old recliner was. The doctors say it could be another 3 months, 6 months, or a year, but gradually he will begin sleeping more and his heart rate will slow and the end will come, hopefully peacefully and with as much dignity as possible.

It’s all pretty sad for me, not because my grandpa is dying per se, but because I don’t love hearing or seeing my father cry, or thinking about my grandma being alone for the rest of her life. That said, there’s something beautiful about the two of them during this time of reflection, loving each other as much as ever.

I looked at my husband last night and realized that I would be honored to give him sponge baths and change his bedpan for him up until the very end. That’s love, the kind of love I knew nothing about when we met during college.

#2.  I’m vaguely annoyed by the unbaby plug-in for facebook. Even when I was a bitter infertile, I never begrudged moms posting photos of their kids. I really don’t think it’s all that annoying. It’s certainly not more annoying or redundant than my 28 year old friends posting 150 photos of ONE single night out at a bar. I promise I’m more tired of seeing you in your skanky clothes drinking glow-in-the-dark booze out of mason jars than you are of seeing my baby.

I mean isn’t that what facebook is for? Recycling the same old statuses about the weather and work and whatever you’re doing with your time? Babies are pretty much the least annoying part of facebook. (Pregnancy announcements are perhaps a different story)

#3.  My first week back at work, pumping was a disaster. Now I have settled into a rhythm. I need 10.5 ounces every day to make three 3.5 ounce bottles for Alex the next day. I average about 9.5 ounces a day, but I’ve learned that if I pump after feedings on the weekend, I can start the week ahead and it’s much less stressful. I bought a kindle fire and have been reading a book in the mother’s room. I only read while I pump, and it’s a good book, so it helps me to actually look forward to pumping. The kindle is great for hands-free reading!

#4.  This article from Jezebel made me really sad. Sad that she had such a bad experience, sad that her LC was rough, and sad that she went into breastfeeding expecting a negative experience and then got it. Isn't that how life works out? And now she wrote this piece, which will perpetuate the negative cycle.

It's not that I think breastfeeding is the best thing in the world, and I understand it doesn't work for everyone, and I support a woman's right to choose...in every regard. But this post is so dismissive of breastfeeding. And that makes me sad because it's been a very positive experience for me, overall. Plus, the writer just turns me off with her bitchy digs on her LC's hair, makeup, jewelry, perfume, I mean seriously. That's just petty. End of rant.

#5.  I remember other things that used to make me feel like a badass. In college I was a badass because I got awesome grades and still partied and had a boyfriend and had tons of friends, all while looking super hot. (Seriously, I was hot. Sigh.)

TODAY I was a badass because my husband left at 5am and I got myself and the baby up and ready, and dropped him off at daycare for the first time ever, and made it to work on time with my hair and makeup looking decent. And no tears! I was so proud of myself!

Things no one told me about having a baby

I was reflecting on all the things I want to remember to tell my sister and friends when they get ready to have their first babies. I thought it would be worth writing them all down. Here is a quick collection of things I feel like I learned the hard way!

Visitors - just don't have them the first 2-3 weeks, if you can help it. People want to "help", but they don't really mean it. They want to hold the baby. I can hold my own baby, and very much enjoy doing so, thank you. When they're that little, they just sleep anyway. If you want to help, I need you to do the dishes, sweep the floor, clean the toilet, go grocery shopping, make me a meal, bring me a glass of water, listen to me while I cry....there are a million things you can do to help. I felt very possessive over Alex and I got so annoyed when people would come over to hold the baby, and I ended up feeling like I needed to offer them something to drink or entertain them.

Night sweats - gross. In the first few weeks, these were so disgusting I felt like washing the sheets every day. I would sweat all night and even when I snuck in a nap. I still have them occasionally, and I'll wake up with sweat literally dripping down my chest! When they first hit, I felt like maybe I was getting sick, since I didn't feel hot but I was so sweaty. I almost took my temperature one morning! I googled it and found out this was common, but I couldn't figure out why none of my pregnancy/childbirth books mentioned it.

Postpartum hormones - I guess people did prepare me, or tried to. I was warned vaguely about the baby blues and PPD, but no one told me how completely fragile I would feel, all the time, for days. Everything made me feel like I could just fall apart. I felt like an infant myself, a lot - wandering around and crying, incapable of pulling it together. The sleep deprivation didn't help.

Appetite - this has been all over the place since Alex arrived. Initially, I had no appetite at all. I had to force myself to eat because I knew I needed to for my milk supply. I remember gagging on a granola bar, just trying to choke it down. I wonder if this is some preservation thing that kicks in, because you don't have much time to prepare food for yourself? Now, though, I can't eat enough. For instance, it's 2pm and I've had the following to eat today: a bowl of cereal, cheeze its, two fried eggs, hashbrowns, and a frozen Amy's burrito. I'm still hungry.

Nursing - when you sit down to nurse, you need to have the following things, always: your cell phone, the remote for the TV, a glass of water, a snack. Also, pee before you start. Nursing a newborn takes a good 30 minutes and once you get them latched on I promise you won't want to go anywhere.

Going poo - I have a well documented problem with constipation. During pregnancy it was awful. The first few weeks of Alex's life I was constantly in the bathroom with the opposite problem. The weird thing was that nursing stimulated my bowels. Many times I was forced to choose between taking him off the breast so I could run to the restroom, or nursing on the toilet, which seemed really really gross to me.

Leaving the house by yourself - just do it. It won't get easier, even if you wait until he's six weeks old. Try to make yourself leave the house as soon as you can get 2 ounces pumped in a bottle for someone to give the baby. Even if you only go get your oil changed, you will feel better and more like a real person.

Leaving the house with the baby - just do it. The worst that will happen is that he will scream and it will stress you out and potentially embarrass you. That has happened to everyone! You may need to nurse him in the car in the parking lot. It will be worth it to get out into the world.

You're not doing it wrong - because you will feel like you are. If the baby is fed and doesn't have a poopy butt, you're not doing it wrong, period. This one is REALLY important, because I felt like I was doing it wrong for a long time.

Support system - make sure you have one. You will need advice and people to vent to. Make sure they have the same values as you do - you don't want to blow off steam to your mother about breastfeeding if she's going to ask "why don't you just give him formula?"

Egalitarian, non-gendered parenting - I am a huge believer in this. I swore up and down that my husband and I would be totally equal when it comes to parenting. And he is a great dad and loves Alex so much. But I still feel that parenting is primarily my responsibility. I can't shake that feeling no matter what I do. When A is holding the baby and he cries, I physically cannot resist trying to take him.

More babies - you will think about this way earlier than you think you will.

Resentment - no matter how much you yearned for, tried for, and ultimately love your child, you will have moments (or okay, days) when you miss your old life. You will get on facebook and hate all of your bitchy friends who are out drinking without you. That's okay. It doesn't mean you don't love your baby. Your old life is all you know, and now you are getting used to this one, which is a great life but it does mean you don't get to have a summer suntan because you're stuck inside with a baby all day.

Moms, what did I miss?

Finally

Alex has been so cute lately. A lot of smiles, much less fussing, and cooing up a storm. I think his voice is the most precious thing I've ever heard.

Don't get me wrong, I love my son every day. But the past couple of days I have downright adored him.

Yesterday we spent all day at a big BBQ. A lot of my in-laws, a lot of people I'd never met before, a LOT of kids. It was the kind of day that would have sent me over the edge during IF treatments.

I was so proud of my Alex. In a group of kids and babies, he was the sweetest baby of them all, and he was all MINE.

Finally, I wasn't just the quiet infertile, aching to someday have a baby of her own.

Finally, my son is here with me.

35w5d, ramblings

1. We finished our childbirth class, which I loved. Every approach was covered: epidural vs some pain killers vs natural birth; c-section, vaginal, and assisted deliveries, etc. I feel much more prepared just knowing the process that will happen either way I deliver.
2. Last week we also took a two-part breastfeeding class. The information was pretty general but I still learned a lot. She told us how to manually express our milk, so I tried it when I got home. Seriously! There is baby juice in my breasts! It dropped out 3-4 drops from each side! I was so amazed by this, and also a tiny bit freaked out. I certainly have more respect for my breasts now. It was nice to get to know the lactation consultant I'll be working with.
3. The LC told us that they give mom and baby a “golden hour” immediately after delivery to try to nurse, skin to skin. I had a very stressful morning last week trying to explain this to my mom, who just wants "five minutes" with the baby before I start to nurse. For now, the plan is my husband just won't announce that the baby has been born until we're ready for visitors.
4. We went on a Serious Shopping Extravaganza with all of our gift cards to get remaining things off of our registry. We are almost 100% ready to bring baby home now. The only big thing we have left is to install our car seat bases and assemble the swing when it arrives.
5. I am 99% sure baby is still breech. I feel kicks that are low and internal (like, on my organs, not my abdomen), and I think I feel his head lodged against my right side. The other night he started making really jerky movements, butting his head against the skin under my right ribcage. I was like "You can't get out that way! Point your head at my hoo-ha, there's an escape hatch down there!"
6. I have another ultrasound to check growth on Thursday, and I meet with the NP. Then I go to weekly appointments.

Shower and nursery photos

Yesterday was the shower, and it was a perfect day. I had so much fun, got very emotional, and we got a lot of presents!

The shower was Dr. Seuss themed, and it was adorable. I am so happy about the day that I am going to break my own rule and post some photos of myself (no guarantees how long they'll be up though).

me at 30 weeks, 4 days 

me with Horton, and the photobook my mom made me documenting my pregnancy (from retrieval to 28 weeks)

ducky in the punch : )

They had Seussical cards for the guests to share their advice, and I'm going to type some up here - the ones that made me laugh or cry or both:

From my parents (my mom wrote this poem - I was so impressed. A had to read it out loud because I was a weepy mess).

The timing is near, you've waited so long! Just overnight you'll become Dad and Mom.
You have lots to learn, a lot you must know. "Who should I ask?" "Where should I go?"
In choosing wisely in whom you can trust, of course we must say you should always call us.
We'll tell you the truth, or help you decide, or just sit and listen to what's on your mind.
No Wockets or Sneetches, no Zax or Lorax,
No Who down in Whoville, not the Grinch's dog Max,
Not even the Grinch with the strength of ten Grinches plus two
Could become a great couple of parents like you!

From my grandpa:

The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother. -Theodore Hasburgh

From our good friends, Ben and Amy:

Be yourselves, you will be good parents. No Disney movies - these breed unrealistic expectations and gender stereotypes. Don't train this babe to be a celebrity. Show him to appreciate small victories, like being resourceful. Make sure to show the baby how to cook and change a tire. Take heed of that tiger mom book. I think kids get 'mental health' days from school, too. Read lots o' books. Duh.

--

The nursery is also coming along well. It's definitely not done: we have a crib with no mattress and a changing table with no changing pad (instead it's full of stacks of receiving blankets and burp clothes and toys). But, it's on its way!

that bare corner will house my glider, once they get their act together and send me arms that match the base! : / 

Due date countdown: 65 days!

Thinking about #2, baby showers

My pregnancy is winding down. I have fewer than 10 weeks left until the day my baby is due. Realistically, he could be here in less than 7 weeks.

There have been days that I’ve come home and cried because sometimes it’s hard to be pregnant. The constipation is difficult, I’m starting to feel uncomfortable, and I have other complaints I could mention if I wanted to.

But overall, I’ve enjoyed being pregnant. I love feeling my baby move inside me. I love knowing he’s always with me.

As I start glimpsing the end of the road, I have started feeling a little panicky that I’ll never be lucky enough to experience pregnancy again.

I want siblings for my son. My husband and I are open to and have discussed adoption. He’s actually very excited about the notion of adopting in the future. I would be too, except for the fact that we can’t afford adoption, and we have 2 more retrievals covered under our medical insurance. Our bank account dictates that if we are to have a second child, IVF will be our method.

I wish I could take baby number 2 (or even babies number 3, 4 and 5 if we wanted them) for granted. But I’m infertile, and everything is harder for us.

If this is my only pregnancy, I will be thankful that I even got to experience one. But I desperately don’t want that to be the case.

--

We have a baby shower this weekend. My family is so generous that I know we will be literally showered with gifts. I’m excited to get more baby stuff set up in our house, but mainly I’m excited that everyone’s excited about this baby.

It will be so nice to be surrounded by people who already love this little person. He has been prayed for, cried for, and anticipated for years, and he doesn’t even know it.

What a great way to come into this world: enveloped in layers of unconditional love. He has not only my love, but his father’s love, the love of four grandparents, six great-grandparents, 2 aunts, an uncle, 20 great-aunts and-uncles (I may be missing a couple of those), and countless cousins (first, second, third…).

He has done nothing to earn, deserve, or ask for love, and yet it has already been sent to him in abundance. It amazes me.

Motherhood

When you are child free, people love to tell you how great your life is because you have no one depending on you. It was the hardest thing for me to hear during infertility treatments. Yes, I have more free time than you do, but how can I possibly explain to you this gaping hole in my heart and in my life?

Now that we have a little one on the way, smug parents love to tell me how much my life is going to change. I usually smile and say “We’ve been ready for a change for a long time!”

I feel that people are setting me up for parenthood to be a complete nightmare. Based on the [100% unsolicited] feedback I’ve received, here are my expectations for the next five years: Complete and total hell. No sleep, no money, no time. Nearly constant stress. Fighting with my husband, struggling with breastfeeding, scraping to pay the bills.

And it will all start over when we start trying for number two.

But I guess I always kind of knew that’s what I was getting myself into, trying to get pregnant. I never wanted it to be easy. I wanted it to be real.

Recently, I asked my husband what he is most looking forward to about being a dad. He has all of these activities planned. “I want to do science experiments with him, help him with his homework, teach him how to tie his shoes.” These are all things you sit down and do. You look at the clock, think “We have an hour before bedtime” and say “Son, come here, let’s do ‘x’ together.”

The things I ache for about motherhood are not like this. The things that will make all of the hard work worth it for me will be spontaneous, could occur during any time of day or night, and I have to be in the moment, ready and willing to recognize them when they come.

- Reaching into the crib and seeing him smile when he recognizes me.

- When he’s crying and my touch can soothe him.

- When he hurts himself and runs to me for comfort.

- The first time we read “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” together, and he touches the holes in the book with his tiny finger.

- Watching him when he doesn’t know I’m watching him.

- The first time I come into his room and he’s standing up in his crib

- When someone new is holding him, and he reaches his arms out for me, instead.

- Leaving out cookies for Santa.

- Discovering a bit of myself in his personality.

- Seeing pride in his face as he shows me something he made, created, or built.

- Realizing, as I catch my breath, how much he’s growing up.

- Watching his reaction as he meets his new brother or sister for the first time.

- Watching him fall in love.

- His face on his wedding day.

I don’t expect parenthood to be easy. I don’t expect it to be fun. I hope for one rewarding moment at a time in the midst of all the hard work and stress.

I know that he can give that to me.

My pregnancy in review : )

My readership has drastically declined lately, which is fine because seriously, I get it. My posting has also drastically declined lately, because I feel icky about posting so much about pregnancy. But, since today marks 20 weeks and thus the halfway point for this baby’s gestation, I feel a bit of retrospect is in order because when it comes down to it I’ve done a pretty poor job of documenting my pregnancy.

So, we’ll do the cliffs notes version.

3w4d (also known as 6dp5dt)- this was the day I first took a HPT and saw two lines.

4-7 weeks- I lived in fear. I was happy but terrified, with terror outweighing happiness a lot of days. A couple of times I left work to cry in my car about how grateful I was to be pregnant. At 6 weeks we saw the heartbeat and my RE told us we were at 95% of everything being okay, but that wasn’t enough for me.

Side note: I ate a LOT of salt!! I’m not usually a salt girl but I dumped salt all over everything. I remember getting hash browns at McDonald’s on my way to work, and they looked like they had been snowed on once I was done with them. I also ate a lot of Lay’s Classic Potato Chips (classy, I know). This may have been more of a post-OHSS thing than a pregnancy thing. I had PMS like cramps the entire time, my nipples started darkening, and the blue veins popped out on my chest. I think I was dizzy a lot at this point, too.

8 weeks- We heard the heartbeat and saw something that looked a whole lot more like a baby than it had two weeks ago. My RE released me to my OB. We told my grandparents (one of the best moments of my life), and I slowly started telling friends. This is also when the nausea started, but it was minor, only lasted a couple of hours, and never bothered me all that much. I also felt like total garbage for a week because I had a bad cold.

9 weeks- I started feeling so bloated that jeans were almost impossible. I wore a bella band with my jeans. I think this was when the super pregnant nose kicked in. I remember hardly being able to open the refrigerator. I told work I was pregnant.

10 weeks- We had what is, to date, my favorite ultrasound. Baby looked so adorable and peanut-like. I finally felt able to relax a bit. I think this was when I started going to bed by 8pm every night.

11 weeks- I felt very, very bloated, but still didn’t feel like I was showing. This was around when the crazy weepiness started.

12 weeks- We announced on facebook, and it was the week of Thanksgiving. I met with my NP and we had another great ultrasound where baby was dancing around like CRAZY! It was so fun. 12 weeks made a huge difference in my outlook. I got another stinkin cold and felt pretty bad most of the week. I feel like my belly popped out this week and I went from being bloated to showing, although others disagree. Pregnant nose started to fade.

13 weeks- realized I had missed my chance for an NT scan : ( Still very tired, hormonal, and feeling fat. I believe this is when the vaginal discharge (luekorrhea) got really uncomfortable. There’s so much of it! This continues and I’ve been told it will only get worse.

14 weeks- this was a rough week. Halfway between my 12 week and 16 week ultrasounds, and I hardly felt pregnant at all, besides feeling tired. Pregnancy nose was gone. I wasn’t in a great mental state.

15 weeks- I started feeling a lot of tugging/pulling/tightening sensations down there. I thought I was preparing for a growth spurt, but figured out later that these were the first noticeable movements.

16 weeks- was sitting in a meeting with all of my management when I felt something very peculiar. It was the first kick! Or punch, or somersault, or whatever. I didn’t feel it again for several days but it was fun feeling the first one.

17 weeks- baby is kicking more frequently. Bump is more noticable. We found out it was a boy!!!

18-20 weeks- symptoms stay the same: blue veins, dark and sensitive nipples, both of which are the new normal. I’m starting to feel off balance because of my belly - though it’s still small, it’s growing. I’m still exhausted a lot. No nausea, some dizziness. I have days of raging hormones and days where I feel fine. Baby moves more and more every day it seems! No stretch marks. Very heavy vaginal discharge, which makes me feel self-conscious and very unsexy. Overall, I feel like my primary reason for being alive is to grow this baby, which keeps me from feeling any sex drive or interest in much else, including my friends and my appearance. And I’m okay with that.

Anatomy scan is on Friday!

2011 in review

I don’t actually expect anyone to read this, it’s really for my own purposes.

I had already met my deductible by January 3 thanks to monitoring appointments for our first IUI! I was inseminated on Friday, January 7. It didn’t work. I had a pelvic exam to examine the weird vagina, AKA vaginal septum. It was at this appointment that my OB and I discussed that my bicornuate uterus could also be a septate uterus and that only a laparoscopy could tell. So after a great deal of tears, I scheduled the lap.

In February we had a giant blizzard that shut down the entire county for two days. I spent it curled up at home eating Crunch Berries and reading the Hunger Games. I had my laparoscopy, which revealed that my uterus is perfectly shaped and the HSG was just plain wrong (WTF?) and that I had mild endometriosis, even thought I had no symptoms (surprise!) and that I had ovulated on my own for the first time since TTC (hooray!).

In March my friend told me she was pregnant, putting a big strain on our already burdened friendship. We took a vacation and a quick break from trying. We went on a cruise to Turks and Caicos, Half Moon Cay, and Nassau. We went snorkeling in Turks and Caicos and horseback riding in the Bahamas. I drank a lot. It was a great time. To the surprise of my family, taking a vacation was not the magic cure they had hoped it would be. Still not pregnant!

On April Fools Day, we were inseminated yet again. This negative cycle tore me apart. Also in April, my already strained friendship with one of my closest friends completely fell apart. I spent the whole month in despair as we waited to see the RE. I went on Welbutrin.

I spent most of May partying and enjoying our break. On May 23 we made our first of many trips to the RE. Waiting to go into that appointment was the oddest type of anticipation for me. We liked him immediately and he gave us a choice between IUI w/injectables and IVF. It was a big decision to make, and I was so preoccupied the next day that I went to work with two different shoes on. Also in May, people actually started coming to my support group!

In June I got promoted at work and we quietly got the ball rolling for IVF #1. We got our infectious disease tests and I took BCP. On Tuesday, June 28 we did our very first at-home injection (Lupron).

We took one day in July to go to Six Flags and ride roller coasters/water rides and revel in not being pregnant. I spent my 25^th birthday at the RE and cried all the way home. I packed up my Lupron, Bravelle, and Menopur to begin stims for IVF #1 while visiting friends in Des Moines. We retrieved 8 eggs. 5 did not fertilize, and of the three that were ICSI-d, only one fertilized normally. I spend 24 hours crying (no exaggeration) over the fert report, because my eggs had failed me. We transferred a 6 cell embryo on day 3. My friend had a baby and I went to the hospital to meet him during my 2ww.

On August 2, our third anniversary, we found out IVF #1 failed. It was a dismal anniversary. Never in a million years did I dream we’d be married three years and have no child. On the same day that I took a big exam at work, we had our follow up phone call with the RE and he cleared us to go straight into another cycle, with no break.

On September 1, I again packed up all my injections and this time, flew with them for my second ever trip to California! I spent 5 days sightseeing with a dear friend and basically ignored the fact that I had a retrieval coming up. It was a great trip, the highlight of which was seeing Muir Woods. This time, I paid dearly for my 17 eggs with painful OHSS combined with a nasty reaction to the anesthesia. I cried myself to sleep in the ER, a nurse holding one hand and my husband holding the other, saying “I just want to be a mom”. We transferred a blast and an early blast on day 5 and froze a hatching blast. On Saturday, 9/24, I got my first ever positive pregnancy test.

October was the month of the ultrasounds, at 6 and 8 weeks. The days leading up to them were always frantic for me. After the 8 week ultrasound we told my grandparents we were pregnant. It was a much anticipated and emotional day. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that day as long as I live.

In November I saw the Indigo Girls in concert for the third time. I hit the 12 week mark. I went to a baby shower and it didn’t feel like my heart was getting pulled out of my chest and stomped on.

In December I celebrated a happy Christmas with joy and gratitude in my heart. Our quad screening came back negative and we found out we are having a boy!

All in all, 2011 kicked the pants off of 2010. I would say the worst two days were

1) when I got the fert report for IVF #1

2) retrieval day for IVF #2.

The best two days were

1) the 12 week ultrasound, because the baby was so baby-like and moving around so much, it truly made me feel pregnant

2) when we found out it was a boy.

Also 3) the day we went snorkeling and got day drunk on the beach in Turks and Caicos – that was a marvelous day, too : )

Christmas (warning: belly pic)

It's almost Christmas.

Christmas 2009, I went off the pill and we officially started TTC. However, by that point I was already frantic for a child because I had spent months waiting to get good enough health insurance to start trying.

A few months before Christmas 2009, I went to a baby shower and cried all the way home because I wanted it to be my turn so badly, and we weren't even trying yet. So I really consider my infertility pain to have started prior to Christmas 2009.

Christmas 2009 was a very happy Christmas because my time was finally here. I was certain I'd be pregnant by June 2010, when I was in a friend's wedding and could share the news. I was glowing all throughout celebrations that year because of our secret. I was going to be a mom soon.

Things didn't work out and when I saw my (old) OB in May of 2010, she said we'll do a little Metformin, a little clomid, and "You will be pregnant by Christmas."

Christmas 2010 came and went and I hated every moment. It was nothing but a missed deadline. I especially hated my OB for turning my favorite time of year into a reminder of how I'd failed.

So that's my Christmas story. I know it's pretty silly compared to others who have been trying for longer and have endured more. But to me, it's reality.

The year 2011 included two IUIs, a laparoscopy, and 2 cycles of IVF. This year I am unspeakably blessed to look like this on Christmas:

12/17 -- 15w4d

Retrieval is Thursday!

We have a retrieval date! I am so happy that I won't be stimming till the day I die! The retrieval will be this Thursday, 7/21, with an expected day 5 transfer of Tuesday, 7/26.

Tonight I will take my final dose of Lupron (which I was provided by the nurse this morning -- hopefully it was worth six hours in the car today). Tomorrow morning I take my last stims. Tomorrow night, at a time TBA, I trigger, and sometime Thursday morning is the retrieval.

Right now I have six large follicles on my right ovary (as the u/t said on Saturday, "That ovary is JUICY!"). I have two sizable follicles on the left (underachiever).

I am done feeling inadequate with my follicle count. I have chosen to love my body and appreciate whatever it gives me. I can feel that it is really trying and for that I feel nothing but gratitude. It must be hard to do more than six times your normal workload!

I am thankful for the eggs that I do have growing and I do not wish to have any more. Honestly, my right side is uncomfortable enough with the six and their smaller buddies that I can't imagine how it must feel to have more, or to even overstimulate.

I'm also very thankful that my lining is at a 10. It has doubled since Saturday! In all my clomid cycles, my lining never got thicker than a 7.6, and it still has a few more days to grow. I feel like this time it will be a nice squishy inviting-looking home.

I am hoping for four embryos. Any more than that are an added bonus. I'm hoping for two to transfer and two to freeze. That may be an ambitious goal but it's my goal nonetheless.

My mom went with me today because I didn't ask A to take a day off work just for bloodwork and an ultrasound. It was a very cool experience for her, as she has been just dying to get involved in this process. She got to see all my follicles on the screen and she was amazed by all of the science behind the process. The follicles on my right side are all squished together, so the nurse kept saying "I can't really measure this guy, he's getting squashed by his friend." It made me laugh.

I'm feeling positive despite some discomfort, but I have not yet started hoping. I can't let my mind wander to belly bumps and fetal heartbeats. I need to remain detached for now.

Hope you are all well.

I need advice.

Here is something I have been pondering for several days.

Am I depressed?

My thoughts are so scattered and awkward that I can only express them to you in list form. So here is what I know.

1. I have a heavy family history of anxiety/depression disorders. My paternal grandmother has been on anti-depressants for 15-20 years. My maternal grandmother was hospitalized more than once for anxiety attacks. And it doesn’t end there (aunts, great-grandparents, cousins, etc).
2. I have been diagnosed with “major depression” by two therapists, each of whom I saw for a year before giving up on them, and neither of whom ever mentioned the idea of medication.
3. I am not, currently, the person I want to be. I am an angry, upset, rude, unkind, pimply, tired version of her.
4. I would rather stay home than go out into the world and inflict my negativity on people I care about.
5. I don’t feel that I will ever be completely happy, and I never truly feel worthy of friendship or love.
6. I can’t stop clenching my teeth at night. My jaw is always sore in the morning. This has been going on for about four months.
7. I’m losing interest in things I used to love. I don’t want to teach or take yoga anymore, even though a year ago yoga was my life. I don’t read as much as I used to. I dread book club because I have to see my pregnant friend there. I make excuses not to go to the gym even though I love going.
8. I’d rather stay home and watch Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix than do anything. This is partly because, seriously, it’s an awesome show, but also because it allows me to ignore the world and my problems. I am already terrified of what I will do when I’ve watched it all.
9. I’m sick right now. So the past few days, of course I haven’t felt like doing anything. I’m also just getting over my latest BFN.
10. I’m going through infertility. Isn’t it natural to be sad all the time? But at the same time…
11. …When I look back on my life, I realize that I am sad or angry most of the time. There are a lot of photos of me on very happy days when I remember feeling completely exhausted or worried about something else. Not enjoying myself like I look.
12. My husband says I am miserable more than I am happy.

So what’s the solution? I’m over therapy. It hasn’t helped and I have enough medical bills as it is. Do I tough it out or do I ask for anti-depressants? How do you ask for those? Can I just call up Dr. Lovely and tell her what I just told you and ask for a prescription? Are there any that are pregnancy-friendly? How hard is it to get off of them eventually? Any advice on this topic would be very helpful. My husband is ready for me to try medication. I don’t know if I’m ready.

How do I know when I’m ready?

Christmas in review

Christmas weekend is over and I only had a total of ONE meltdown. Can you believe it?!

A's family's Christmas Eve celebration was just over two hours away from home. We drove 45 minutes to his parents' house and rode the rest of the way with them. All was fine, we visited and ate, etc. I was a little homesick. This is only the third Christmas that I've spent away from my family on Christmas Eve and it's still a little hard for me.

The drive back to A's parents' house was uneventful, but once we got into our car to go home, the drama began. The roads were awful. We had to go 35 mph on the interstate and there were cars in the ditch. I couldn't conceive of us possibly getting to my parents' the next day for Christmas (an hour and a half away). So the tears started.

So there I was, driving home from Christmas Eve, crying because all I wanted was to spend Christmas with my family.

Of course, the roads were MUCH better the next morning and we made it there with no problems. But it pretty much felt like the end of the world on Christmas Eve night.

My dad's side of the family handled everything very well, infertility-wise. My dad's twin sister had similar issues (albeit 25 years ago) and she got pregnant through IUI. She pulled me aside to ask how things were going and was excited to hear that we have one of our own underway. There was also a VERY heavy implication during the prayer about how we all could have our wishes granted in 2011. My mom's side said nothing but that's to be expected.

I love my family to death and I wouldn't trade them for the world. But sometimes I wonder how on earth I share genetic material with them. My grandpa got Glenn Beck's book for Christmas and proclaimed him "my hero". There was talk of SARAH PALIN for Christ's sake. Her book AND her TV show. Anyway, they're very different from me, but I love them regardless, and I guess that's what family means.

It's also worth mentioning this was the first Christmas of my entire life that I didn't go to mass. Ostensibly the weather prevented us from traveling there on Christmas Eve. But really, I can't show my face in the Catholic church anymore. It's been years since I could feel comfortable being there, and it was all kind of a sham anyway. There's really no point in going to church just once a year.

Next up: a week of vacation, lots of fun plans, an HSG, and a quiet NYE.