Yeah, I'm not so much on the original for post titles. Whatever.
So, yeah, that old saying about the pink elephant. That's the perfect description for TTC. Let me get something out right here. I've often read that infertility is like the pink elephant in the room/corner/table. Out of respect to the hundreds of women who have diagnosed infertility, I'm trying to label myself with that yet. Technically, I almost could. Technically, a year of trying without sucess can "earn" you that label. But, I feel it is overused and until there is some diagnosis of something wrong or it's been a little longer--say, a year and half, maybe--I just don't want to do it. Naive, perhaps. Denial, I'm sure. But, there it is.
So, the pink elephant. Yeah, he always pops up when you least expect it. At least for me. I'm not SOOOO self-involved to think that other people think of me and my situation all the time or even some of the time. But, I know he's there.
He's there when someone innocently tells me about a new pregnancy she just learned about or someone who just gave birth. He sits there reminding everybody that I'm not pregnant and/or haven't given birth.
He's there when friends, who know we're TTC and probably realize at this point that it's been awhile, innocently ask what we've been up to. He's there thinking I've not been pregnant two more times since we last saw you and I've started testing to find out if something is wrong. Oh, and I'm waiting to see if my temperature tomorrow morning confirms when I ovulated so that I can start another 2 week wait to see if I got pregnant this time or not.
Do I think my friends see Mr Pink Elephant? Sometimes I think they do. I think sometimes he's visable to them when the subject of what's going on with my efforts and they don't know what all to say and ask. And I think he's there when I don't know how to answer the "what have you been up to" question and just say nothing, when I'm sure my eyes and tone give away that lie.
I hate that this whole process is on my mind all the time. I don't want it to be. And I do have hobbies and I do things to take my mind off of it. But, a promotion, Fall TV, books, sewing, gardening, working out, cooking, baking.
At the end of the day, I'm still not pregnant. I still don't have the baby I long to have.
I have a pink elephant.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
A Little Perspective
I heard a story today that broke my heart, but made me grateful for what I have in my life.
I heard the story of a woman who had been TTC for 10 years and had multiple miscarriages, including a very late one. She tried to commit suicide because her husband was going to leave her if she was not pregnant again.
I cannot even imagine going through this process without the support of the hubby. That is not to say that he always gets what I am going through because he doesn't. And he's not always the most sypathetic to my every emotion because he isn't. He doesn't always say or do the right things.
But, he loves me. And he supports me. And hugs me and tells me that we will have our baby one day.
I can't say I won't ever get frustrated at the hubby again for not "getting it." But, I will never take him for granted. Ever. Because I could not imagine going through this without his support and love.
I heard the story of a woman who had been TTC for 10 years and had multiple miscarriages, including a very late one. She tried to commit suicide because her husband was going to leave her if she was not pregnant again.
I cannot even imagine going through this process without the support of the hubby. That is not to say that he always gets what I am going through because he doesn't. And he's not always the most sypathetic to my every emotion because he isn't. He doesn't always say or do the right things.
But, he loves me. And he supports me. And hugs me and tells me that we will have our baby one day.
I can't say I won't ever get frustrated at the hubby again for not "getting it." But, I will never take him for granted. Ever. Because I could not imagine going through this without his support and love.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Positively Exciting
A positive test, any way you can get it, is always exciting. I think especially for anyone who has never seen a positive pregnancy test, it's actually exhilerating. Weird, I know.
No, I didn't get a positive pregnancy test. No where near time for that.
Just another positive ovulation test--OPK. Love those OPKs. Love those two lines. Or smiley face. Whatever the manner. It's a positive test and I love it.
No, I didn't get a positive pregnancy test. No where near time for that.
Just another positive ovulation test--OPK. Love those OPKs. Love those two lines. Or smiley face. Whatever the manner. It's a positive test and I love it.
Alone
One of the worst parts of having trouble trying to conceive, for me at least, is the feeling of being alone. And that's true even when people know--and in my case, a lot of people know.
But knowing doesn't mean understanding. And all the people who know, the vast majority don't understand.
My friends who know the most, bless them, try to understand. They ask questions, offer sympathy and prayers and crossed fingers. But, they the lucky ones who didn't have to go through seeing multiple negative pregnancy tests or month after month of dashed hopes. So, while they can appreciate my feelings of wanting to get pregnant and not, they can't really understand how I feel.
Others who know, obviously just feel sorry for me, even my friends. You can see it in their eyes. It's pity. It's complete, utter nonunderstanding and not even knowing how to talk to me about it.
My mother has been where I am, but even she can't fully understand. Her infertility was secondary in that she had me no problem, but had trouble conceiving after. So, while she understand the emotions, she can't understand them all. She can't understand things like Mother's Day and why it's hard for me.
Even my husband can't fully understand. He wants kids, but not with the same longing I have and have had for so long. And, of course, he doesn't have the added fun of hormones, which just makes it all worse. He's not the one trying all kinds of things to help or doing the the research or going through invasive, painful tests (yet). And my husband is very black and white, straightforward. If we've been doing things, like charting, and it's not working, well then it must be wrong. I must not be ovulating when the chart says. Well, yes, I am. That part is basic science. But, just because I'm ovulating and even if we have great timing, it doesn't mean I will automatically be pregnant.
It's just very frustrating. I feel like I'm constantly having conversations in my head trying to rationalize things or just vent. I get to the point where I just keep it all in. And that's probably not good.
And I don't like to complain, especially about myself. I'm one of those people who always feels like no matter what is going on with me, others surely have worse, so I shouldn't say anything. And while that may be true, it shouldn't trivialize my feelings, but it does.
Maybe now I can get some of it out here and at least not feel like a crazy person talking to myself--even if I sort of still am.
But knowing doesn't mean understanding. And all the people who know, the vast majority don't understand.
My friends who know the most, bless them, try to understand. They ask questions, offer sympathy and prayers and crossed fingers. But, they the lucky ones who didn't have to go through seeing multiple negative pregnancy tests or month after month of dashed hopes. So, while they can appreciate my feelings of wanting to get pregnant and not, they can't really understand how I feel.
Others who know, obviously just feel sorry for me, even my friends. You can see it in their eyes. It's pity. It's complete, utter nonunderstanding and not even knowing how to talk to me about it.
My mother has been where I am, but even she can't fully understand. Her infertility was secondary in that she had me no problem, but had trouble conceiving after. So, while she understand the emotions, she can't understand them all. She can't understand things like Mother's Day and why it's hard for me.
Even my husband can't fully understand. He wants kids, but not with the same longing I have and have had for so long. And, of course, he doesn't have the added fun of hormones, which just makes it all worse. He's not the one trying all kinds of things to help or doing the the research or going through invasive, painful tests (yet). And my husband is very black and white, straightforward. If we've been doing things, like charting, and it's not working, well then it must be wrong. I must not be ovulating when the chart says. Well, yes, I am. That part is basic science. But, just because I'm ovulating and even if we have great timing, it doesn't mean I will automatically be pregnant.
It's just very frustrating. I feel like I'm constantly having conversations in my head trying to rationalize things or just vent. I get to the point where I just keep it all in. And that's probably not good.
And I don't like to complain, especially about myself. I'm one of those people who always feels like no matter what is going on with me, others surely have worse, so I shouldn't say anything. And while that may be true, it shouldn't trivialize my feelings, but it does.
Maybe now I can get some of it out here and at least not feel like a crazy person talking to myself--even if I sort of still am.
Friday, October 1, 2010
What's in a Name
There might be days when I post more than once day. I like to "talk" and this is just where I'm going to let it all out.
I figured the title of the blog might need some explaining, although I think it's pretty simple.
It's how my life feels right now. It's how trying to conceive feels.
I'm a roller coaster of emotions--happy, sad, depressed, excited, hopeful, hopeless. You name it, I feel it--sometimes all in one day.
At the same time, my life feels like it is in constant slow motion. My life is cut into two-week segments--wait to ovulate then waiting to see if I'm pregnant of if we have not succeeded once again. It just feels like all I do is wait. And wait. And wait.
I wait to ovulated. I wait to start my period. I wait for my period to end. I wait to see the doctor. I wait for tests.
I wait to have a family.
How is it that a year has passed while I've been waiting and riding this roller coaster?
I figured the title of the blog might need some explaining, although I think it's pretty simple.
It's how my life feels right now. It's how trying to conceive feels.
I'm a roller coaster of emotions--happy, sad, depressed, excited, hopeful, hopeless. You name it, I feel it--sometimes all in one day.
At the same time, my life feels like it is in constant slow motion. My life is cut into two-week segments--wait to ovulate then waiting to see if I'm pregnant of if we have not succeeded once again. It just feels like all I do is wait. And wait. And wait.
I wait to ovulated. I wait to start my period. I wait for my period to end. I wait to see the doctor. I wait for tests.
I wait to have a family.
How is it that a year has passed while I've been waiting and riding this roller coaster?
Catching Up: Part 1, In the Beginning
Just in case anybody does actually read this and so as to have a record of how I got here, it's time to play catch up on my background.
First, I am going to not call my husband by his name. He will be known as "the hubby." If you read my other blogs, you know his name, but due to the more personal nature of this blog, we'll try to go a little anonymous.
So, stats. I am 32, 33 in December. The hubby is 37, 38 in November. In October, we will celebrate 2 years of marriage and 9 years of "putting up with each other." Summer 2009, we finally got on the same page about being ready to have kids (more on that history later, I'm sure).
We discussed and decided I would talk to my doctor in August at my annual about going off the birth control pills as well as my migraine prevention meds (can't take those while pregnant and have to slowly wean off of them) and anything else we needed to discuss before trying to conceive. My appointment ended up getting moved up by about a month because I found lump in my breast that I wanted checked out. Fortunately, that turned out to be nothing and the doctor gave me the go-ahead to start trying whenever we were ready.
The hubby, I think, got a little freaked by the propect of it actually happening right then, so we decided to wait for our original start date and finish out my presription of birth control and let me get myself off the migraine meds. So, Labor Day weekend 2009, I started my last BC pill pack and started taking myself off the migraine meds. So, by the end of September 2009, we were offically trying to conceive.
I decided that we'd take the relax and have fun approach. I didn't want to freak out the hubby and even though I had concerns that we might have trouble, people around me were easily getting pregnant left and right, so I was optimistic. That lasted all of two cycles.
By December, Cycle 3, I was ready to try ovulation predictor kits. I didn't really think they were that necessary as I had very regular cycles coming off BC and considered myself very lucky. So, we used those for a few cycles and they seemed to confirm what I thought about when I ovulated. But, we still were not getting pregnant and with each passing month, I was getting less and less hopeful.
When we started Cycle 6, I informed the hubby that if we were not pregnant at the end of it, I was going to start charting my temperature to see if I was, in fact, ovulating and to see if we couldn't help out our timing. Once again, we were not pregnant. Once again, I was devasated. But, now I had a plan. Charting it was.
First, I am going to not call my husband by his name. He will be known as "the hubby." If you read my other blogs, you know his name, but due to the more personal nature of this blog, we'll try to go a little anonymous.
So, stats. I am 32, 33 in December. The hubby is 37, 38 in November. In October, we will celebrate 2 years of marriage and 9 years of "putting up with each other." Summer 2009, we finally got on the same page about being ready to have kids (more on that history later, I'm sure).
We discussed and decided I would talk to my doctor in August at my annual about going off the birth control pills as well as my migraine prevention meds (can't take those while pregnant and have to slowly wean off of them) and anything else we needed to discuss before trying to conceive. My appointment ended up getting moved up by about a month because I found lump in my breast that I wanted checked out. Fortunately, that turned out to be nothing and the doctor gave me the go-ahead to start trying whenever we were ready.
The hubby, I think, got a little freaked by the propect of it actually happening right then, so we decided to wait for our original start date and finish out my presription of birth control and let me get myself off the migraine meds. So, Labor Day weekend 2009, I started my last BC pill pack and started taking myself off the migraine meds. So, by the end of September 2009, we were offically trying to conceive.
I decided that we'd take the relax and have fun approach. I didn't want to freak out the hubby and even though I had concerns that we might have trouble, people around me were easily getting pregnant left and right, so I was optimistic. That lasted all of two cycles.
By December, Cycle 3, I was ready to try ovulation predictor kits. I didn't really think they were that necessary as I had very regular cycles coming off BC and considered myself very lucky. So, we used those for a few cycles and they seemed to confirm what I thought about when I ovulated. But, we still were not getting pregnant and with each passing month, I was getting less and less hopeful.
When we started Cycle 6, I informed the hubby that if we were not pregnant at the end of it, I was going to start charting my temperature to see if I was, in fact, ovulating and to see if we couldn't help out our timing. Once again, we were not pregnant. Once again, I was devasated. But, now I had a plan. Charting it was.
Ripping off the Bandage
The title of this post is one of the titles I threw around for the blog. That's what this blog feels like. I've been saying (to myself, in my head) for ages that I was going to start this blog. I actually wrote an entry for it in my private blog. But, in the end, I felt like I needed a new, fresh blog for this subject. So, why is it like ripping off a bandage? Because starting this blog, knowing what I will say here, is something I didn't want to do. Starting this blog means I've hit that point where I can no longer pretend away what's going on. I can no longer put on a happy face in my head like I do with the rest of the world. And I've been putting it off for a week. Now it is time to put it out there.
I am trying to have a baby. I have been trying to have a baby for one year. At one year, it is time to admit that things aren't going as planned.
And there it is.
Now, this "drama" is not meant to say that I haven't faced this in my own mind. I have. It's not to say that there are not people who know what going on with me. There are. Many of them, in fact, but that's a story for another post. But, nobody, really, knows what is going on in my head--including me sometimes. I have all these thoughts and emotions and I don't really let them out to anybody--at least not in a healthy way. Thus, this blog where I can say those thing. Put them out there. Not keep them inside.
I'm not generally a dramatic person, so I promise that will not become a theme here--for anybody who might actually be reading. And, really, this blog is really more for me. If people read, great. If they don't, I don't care. I'm probably not ever going to be inspiring. And I'm definitely not going to be original.
I'm just sort of going to be me--on my journey to being a mom.
I am trying to have a baby. I have been trying to have a baby for one year. At one year, it is time to admit that things aren't going as planned.
And there it is.
Now, this "drama" is not meant to say that I haven't faced this in my own mind. I have. It's not to say that there are not people who know what going on with me. There are. Many of them, in fact, but that's a story for another post. But, nobody, really, knows what is going on in my head--including me sometimes. I have all these thoughts and emotions and I don't really let them out to anybody--at least not in a healthy way. Thus, this blog where I can say those thing. Put them out there. Not keep them inside.
I'm not generally a dramatic person, so I promise that will not become a theme here--for anybody who might actually be reading. And, really, this blog is really more for me. If people read, great. If they don't, I don't care. I'm probably not ever going to be inspiring. And I'm definitely not going to be original.
I'm just sort of going to be me--on my journey to being a mom.
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