One more thing for today

This morning I was thinking about infertility and babies, and I realized this:

When you finally have a baby after fertility treatments (or however- maybe even naturally?),  you might forget for just a minute that you ever had trouble getting pregnant. Or maybe not forget, but you stop worrying about it for a minute. You’re all: EEEE! NEW BABY! MY BABY! WE HAD A BABY! WE DID IT!

And for just a minute- a split second even- you’re in lala land. You’re in paradise.

But having that sweet baby doesn’t really take away the problem you had in the first place. Or, most of the time it doesn’t.

I had a baby. A beautiful, precious gift of a baby.

But I still have PCOS.

I hoped to God that having this baby would fix it. But it didn’t.

I still have PCOS. I still don’t get my period. I feel pregnant a lot, but never am. I am still broken.

Having a baby doesn’t stop the brokenness- physically or emotionally. It helps, but it doesn’t heal.

Just throwing that out there.


It’ll never be me

Last week, on Wednesday, I think, I shot up in bed at 5am overwhelmed with sudden nausea. I sat there for a second evaluating if I really thought I was going to throw up. I decided that, yes, I might actually throw up, so I climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom. My husband woke up and asked me as I was walking if everything was okay.

I didn’t respond, because I was worried that if I spoke, I might throw up. So I just crouched in front of the toilet and lifted the lid. He asked me if it was the pain again (I had a random bout of severe abdominal pain several months ago that kept me up all night and brought me to the ER). Again, I didn’t answer because gah, too much saliva and nausea and those pre-throw up-y burps you get sometimes. But I was answering him in my head: no, no pain AT ALL. Nothing. Other than suddenly incredibly nauseous and not sure if I would throw up, I felt okay.

I also thought the following two things to myself:

“Is this a stomach virus? I hope this isn’t a stomach virus.” (it wasn’t)

“OMG is this what people mean when they’re like: ‘I must be pregnant. I threw up out of nowhere. Obviously I’m pregnant.’ This MUST be the kind of thing they’re talking about. Except, I bet I’m not pregnant. Things like that NEVER happen to me.”

After a few of those weird burps and spitting up a ton of saliva, I decided I wasn’t going to throw up, so I got up and finally explained to C, who had gotten out of bed and was rubbing my back as I crouched on the floor, what was happening.

“Weird,” he said. “Yea,” I thought.

Neither of us mentioned the possibility of pregnancy, even though I was thinking it. Thirty minutes later the sensation was totally gone. I laid in bed and planned to take a pregnancy test when I finally got up for the day. When I finally did, it was negative. It’s. Always. Negative.

So I spent the morning googling, “Morning sickness BEFORE pregnancy test shows positive.” Turns out, that’s an actual thing that can happen. Naturally, as much as I didn’t want to, I clung to a little bit of hope.

Now it’s Saturday, several days later, and the tests are still negative. But the weird thing is that I STILL FEEL NAUSEOUS. Every day. Not ALL day, but every day, several times a day. Never with the same urgency to run to the bathroom, but definitely an “ugh” queasy feeling.

And this is where I get pissed off. This is SECOND month that I’ve felt nauseous like this- not just a little- but fairly regularly for several days, and it has meant NOTHING. Nothing at all. Not pregnant. No period. Just bouts of nausea for a week or so, and then my body goes quiet.

And it’s just not fair. Most women I know? The second they get nauseous over anything they say, “I’m pregnant. I just know it.” Then, they’re absolutely right. Or later, in retrospect after they already have their positive test, they’ll tell the story of when they just knew that they were pregnant: “Oh man. I was eating fried chicken, and I took a bite and immediately wanted to throw up. That’s when I knew. So I went and got a pregnancy test on the way home and sure enough, it was positive!!”

Fuck that. So sorry to cuss. It’s not something I usually, or ever, really do, but it’s what’s in my head right now. I want to sit up in bed at 5am, overwhelmed with nausea and almost throw up, and think: “I’m pregnant. I just know it,” and ACTUALLY BE RIGHT.

But no. That will never be me. I don’t know what’s happening inside my body, or why, for the past two months, I’ve had these weird nausea spells that last for a week and then go away.

I read online that it can happen like this before your first post-partum period, but again, I repeat: nothing. NOTHING HAPPENS TO ME. No period. No pregnancy. No nothing. I think I’d actually even be excited for a period. But no. Nothing. E is almost 13 months and still no post-partum period. I do still breastfeed, but uh… she sleeps 12 hours at night and only nurses before and after naps/bedtime/waketime. That’s it. So technically? It could make it’s return. On September 20 of this year, if I still haven’t gotten a post-partum period? It will be 2 full years without a period.

So I’m just a little pissed off. I wish you could make things happen by wishing for them. I wish that if you wanted to be pregnant badly enough, you could make the test turn positive. I wish that not only for myself, but especially for my friends still struggling hard with infertility. I wish that if you wished for your period to return (who wishes for that? Me. That’s who), it would magically pop up one day.

But no. That’s not apparently how biology works, which is a huge bummer. So instead I’m just going to let myself be pissed off for a little while. And nauseous, because I’m still that, too.

You know what frustrates me? It frustrates me that everyone’s answer is “no” right now. No to all kinds of things ranging from simple CloClo, to injectables and IUI, all the way to the mother of infertility treatments: IVF. I know my friends are heartbroken, and frustrated, and furious. I am heartbroken for them. Each and every one of them deserves the baby they’ve been trying for for so long, and for so hard. All their no’s lead me to believe that mine is coming soon. That’s right, friends, I’m on the mental preparedness train, prepping myself for a “no,” because that seems to be the universal answer as of late.

As for the not being crazy this cycle, I’ve managed to keep it to a minimum, only googling IUI success stories/rates once or twice. I so badly want this to work, and to be IT, but I just have a sneaking suspicion that it’s not.

I need people to start getting yes’s. I need it like whoa, because their yes’s give me hope. I need me some hope in a big way.

A bigger worry for now

Tomorrow is my u/s and blood work appointment, but tonight I don’t even care because our dog disappeared today. My heart is heavy and I can’t think about much else. Update on the appointment coming tomorrow. If you believe in something, pray that our dog is returned to us safe and sound as soon as possible. When you don’t have children, your pets are your children. We love our dog, and we want her back.

OH, and P.S.

I’m such a bum this cycle. I totally haven’t been temping. Haven’t been using OPKs. Just getting it on with the husb on the regular and going off what the labs say. I’m FAR more low key and relaxed because of this. Turns out I just can’t handle knowing and watching EVERYTHING. Good call, me, good call.

And, something I saw tonight that I wanted to hug:

Yea. Yea I am.

A Truth, about myself

I learned when C and I went through pre-marital counseling that I am an introvert. I would’ve never guessed that about myself, considering how generally well I get along with others and how “bubbly” I seem to seem to others a lot of the time. But, lo, the personality test spoke, and the more I read about introvert-ism, the more I realized that I AM, indeed, introverted.

The thing about being introverted is that it can turn me into kind of a bad friend. I hole up inside myself, and my house, and can just exist for days. I don’t call. I don’t write. I DO care about what’s happening in your life, but unless you call me and tell me about it, I don’t generally reach out. Generally speaking, the “holing up” occurs around the times when I am having some kind of internal strife, or internal reflection. Lately, there’s been a lot of that strife business going on internally. Not so much about the infertility issues so much as just general emotional breakdowns about various things ranging from feelings of inadequacy as a wife and friend to missing my husband to missing Texas to … well… the unidentifiable crying bout. So I’ve been holed up. For a couple weeks now.