I currently have a few bosses. Long story... but working a couple of different jobs all in one right now. Today, one of my bosses, who I admire... great person, great family, great job, very kind... comes in and tells me that the reason she's been out so much lately is because she's pregnant. Of course, I was (and am) thrilled for her. She's tried for a long time for baby #2 (her first is 4 years old), and she told me that after attempts at IVF, the two embryos that they inserted are now officially her twins. Of course, after asking all the right questions (how far along are you? did you tell your family? are you going to find out if they are boys or girls or one of each? what will you name them?), I e-mailed Mr. D.
With tears in my eyes, I typed, "When will it happen for us?" And his answer?
This month.
What a great guy. Let's all keep our hopes up. Keep the prayers coming.
Let's hope this is THE month :)
I started round 2 of Clomid tonight. Pill #1. I am praying for a miracle.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
This may be the first post, but definitely not the beginning...
When I was a little girl, this was not a part of the plan.
Rewind back about 25 years. It's 1984. Imagine a little girl at age 4 - me - playing with my best friend Katie in my basement. What were we playing? Barbies, of course. My favorite. And, wow, did I have the hook-up as far as Barbie's went. I mean, I not only had one Barbie, but close to 20 Barbies, all with different dresses, hairstyles, high-heels, and accessories. To compliment Barbie, I had handsome Ken... several Kens, actually. And Skippers. And 4 pink convertible cars for them to ride around in. And a Barbie Dreamhouse. My basement was an absolute dream for a 4-year-old, brown-eyed, blonde-haired little girl. (Thanks, Mom and Dad :)).
But back to what wasn't part of the plan. I vividly remember being 4 years old and knowing that I was going to be a mom. How I knew that at 4 years old, I am not sure, but I knew. Here was the plan: I would be just like Barbie. Nice-looking, handsome husband, hot car, big house, and babies. I remember thinking to myself (and, who knows, I probably told Katie this, too), "If I am not married with kids by 23, I don't know what I'll do. I'll be too old to have kids!"
Now, a lot has happened in my life between age 4 and 29.5 (not even close to the big 3-0). I am so fortunate. I have a great education, a career I love (for the most part), an amazing husband, a sweet dog, a great family, wonderful friends... and the list goes on. So why is it that the one thing I don't have is the focus of 95% of my personal time?
This blog is not being started for me to complain about the one thing that irritates me in life. I am not a natural complainer. In fact, sometimes I hear that I am too happy-go-lucky. I have a great life. I truly feel blessed to be fortunate with a great marriage, great friendships, a wonderful family, and overall great life. But for some reason, adding children to that picture has been quite the challenge. For those of you who are interested, here's the story:
Mr. D and I have been married now for almost 4 years. We are fun, outgoing people, and we knew when we were married that we wanted children to be a part of our family, but waited a few years to get settled. Two years after we got married, it was time to start the talks. When should we start trying? Should we reach a financial goal of income before we try? What if it happens right away? Is our house large enough? Can we afford daycare? How much do diapers cost?
These conversations lasted for 6 months. Finally, it was time for me to stop the pill. It was January 2009. I thought for sure I would be pregnant by February, and planned for a September baby. No luck. No problem, right? I was sure it was my body adjusting to not being on the pill anymore.
February passed. Then March, April, and May. In June, I was sure we had conceived... after all, I thought I had it nailed as far as when I would ovulate. No such luck. Why wasn't this working?
In July, I went into research mode. I read a ton, learned about BBT, OPKs, and luteal phases. I charted, peed on OPKs, and again thought that there would be no way for me not to be pregnant.
July and August came and went. I started to worry. Am I one of those women I've read about who try for 12 years to get pregnant, and end up expecting her first baby when she is 43? I started to panic. I went to my Doctor for a pre-natal check-up, and she confirmed that everything should be just fine. It would just take time. She sent me away with a prescription for Prometrium to jump-start my cycle so Mr. D and I could start trying again right away.
Daily temperature taking, charting, looking for peaks, peeing on OPK sticks, keeping an Excel sheet updated with daily information... I was getting scared. What was I missing? I am the type of girl who plans, researches, learns, and executes the plan... I was so frustrated and still not pregnant. I was failing.
September, October, and November passed. I continued to hear from friends who couldn't wait to squeal, "I'm pregnant!!", as I tried my hardest to outwardly show excitement. The truth was, I was excited for them, but crushed inside.
Then December arrived. I started the month with renewed energy... I knew that this was "the month." I took temperatures, charted, OPKd, and BD'ed all month. My poor husband knew that he needed to do what was needed when I said it was time.
January 3. AF was due. I decided to take a HPT instead, and I got my first BFP. I was pregnant!! Thrilled, I took 7 more tests to prove it to myself and Mr D. My husband and I couldn't have been more excited. I was over-the-moon.
I called my Doctor and scheduled my first appointment. My husband and I went to Babies 'R Us, checked out baby furniture online, and contemplated names for a boy or girl. I was going to be a mom, and I couldn't wait.
Two weeks later. Mr. D and I were about to take off with my family for a Mexico vacation in the sun. My appointment with my Doctor was the week after we returned. Just to confirm that there would only be non-alcoholic margaritas for me in Mexico, I took another HPT. Negative. I stared at that HPT for about 2 minutes before bursting into tears. I took 3 more HPTs, all negative. I called my Doctor in tears, who ordered a blood test to test my HCG level. My levels came back at 22 - I had just lost the baby. I was devastated. Crying in Mr. D's arms, I felt like someone took away the one goal I had set for myself. Why was this so hard?
We went to Mexico the next week, and I ended up miscarrying in our hotel room at our resort. It was painful, emotional, and the saddest experience of my life.
Two good things came from my miscarriage: one, my doctor started paying closer attention to me. Why don't I ovulate regularly? Why did I miscarry?, and two, Mr. D and I are now even more excited and ready to welcome a baby to our family.
So, what's happened since? I invested in the $150.00 Clearblue Easy Fertility Monitor. Usually, this kind of purchase would have made Mr. D's eyebrows raise with disappointment in the expensive investment, but he didn't even question it. I actually tried to justify it to him because I started to feel guilty about my purchase without talking it over with him first, and he didn't bat an eyelash. I was placed back on Prometrium in February, followed by my first round of Clomid 50 mg. I knew better than to get my hopes up, especially since I was blood-tested on Day 21 of my cycle to confirm ovulation. On Day 34, after 6 HPTs, AF showed up and we are back to starting over yet again.
So that brings us to today. I've contemplated starting a blog about this rollercoaster ride, especially after finding comfort online by reading others' experiences. When AF arrived on Sunday, I decided it was time for me to get this all out somehow. I don't expect followers (my friends and family barely know we're trying, let alone facing challenges), as I won't be sharing this website with most of them. I just need an outlet. TTC has not yet taken over my life, but I sure do focus on it a lot. I yearn for the day when I can take home my little child. I can not wait to be pregnant, and can't wait for Mr. D to be a father.
If you do happen to stumble upon this blog, I'd love to hear your thoughts. I truly believe things happen for a reason and that God's ultimate plan is out of my hands, but that won't stop me from dreaming of the day I have a baby. Until then, I will remain on The Journey to a Little One to Call Our Own...
Rewind back about 25 years. It's 1984. Imagine a little girl at age 4 - me - playing with my best friend Katie in my basement. What were we playing? Barbies, of course. My favorite. And, wow, did I have the hook-up as far as Barbie's went. I mean, I not only had one Barbie, but close to 20 Barbies, all with different dresses, hairstyles, high-heels, and accessories. To compliment Barbie, I had handsome Ken... several Kens, actually. And Skippers. And 4 pink convertible cars for them to ride around in. And a Barbie Dreamhouse. My basement was an absolute dream for a 4-year-old, brown-eyed, blonde-haired little girl. (Thanks, Mom and Dad :)).
But back to what wasn't part of the plan. I vividly remember being 4 years old and knowing that I was going to be a mom. How I knew that at 4 years old, I am not sure, but I knew. Here was the plan: I would be just like Barbie. Nice-looking, handsome husband, hot car, big house, and babies. I remember thinking to myself (and, who knows, I probably told Katie this, too), "If I am not married with kids by 23, I don't know what I'll do. I'll be too old to have kids!"
Now, a lot has happened in my life between age 4 and 29.5 (not even close to the big 3-0). I am so fortunate. I have a great education, a career I love (for the most part), an amazing husband, a sweet dog, a great family, wonderful friends... and the list goes on. So why is it that the one thing I don't have is the focus of 95% of my personal time?
This blog is not being started for me to complain about the one thing that irritates me in life. I am not a natural complainer. In fact, sometimes I hear that I am too happy-go-lucky. I have a great life. I truly feel blessed to be fortunate with a great marriage, great friendships, a wonderful family, and overall great life. But for some reason, adding children to that picture has been quite the challenge. For those of you who are interested, here's the story:
Mr. D and I have been married now for almost 4 years. We are fun, outgoing people, and we knew when we were married that we wanted children to be a part of our family, but waited a few years to get settled. Two years after we got married, it was time to start the talks. When should we start trying? Should we reach a financial goal of income before we try? What if it happens right away? Is our house large enough? Can we afford daycare? How much do diapers cost?
These conversations lasted for 6 months. Finally, it was time for me to stop the pill. It was January 2009. I thought for sure I would be pregnant by February, and planned for a September baby. No luck. No problem, right? I was sure it was my body adjusting to not being on the pill anymore.
February passed. Then March, April, and May. In June, I was sure we had conceived... after all, I thought I had it nailed as far as when I would ovulate. No such luck. Why wasn't this working?
In July, I went into research mode. I read a ton, learned about BBT, OPKs, and luteal phases. I charted, peed on OPKs, and again thought that there would be no way for me not to be pregnant.
July and August came and went. I started to worry. Am I one of those women I've read about who try for 12 years to get pregnant, and end up expecting her first baby when she is 43? I started to panic. I went to my Doctor for a pre-natal check-up, and she confirmed that everything should be just fine. It would just take time. She sent me away with a prescription for Prometrium to jump-start my cycle so Mr. D and I could start trying again right away.
Daily temperature taking, charting, looking for peaks, peeing on OPK sticks, keeping an Excel sheet updated with daily information... I was getting scared. What was I missing? I am the type of girl who plans, researches, learns, and executes the plan... I was so frustrated and still not pregnant. I was failing.
September, October, and November passed. I continued to hear from friends who couldn't wait to squeal, "I'm pregnant!!", as I tried my hardest to outwardly show excitement. The truth was, I was excited for them, but crushed inside.
Then December arrived. I started the month with renewed energy... I knew that this was "the month." I took temperatures, charted, OPKd, and BD'ed all month. My poor husband knew that he needed to do what was needed when I said it was time.
January 3. AF was due. I decided to take a HPT instead, and I got my first BFP. I was pregnant!! Thrilled, I took 7 more tests to prove it to myself and Mr D. My husband and I couldn't have been more excited. I was over-the-moon.
I called my Doctor and scheduled my first appointment. My husband and I went to Babies 'R Us, checked out baby furniture online, and contemplated names for a boy or girl. I was going to be a mom, and I couldn't wait.
Two weeks later. Mr. D and I were about to take off with my family for a Mexico vacation in the sun. My appointment with my Doctor was the week after we returned. Just to confirm that there would only be non-alcoholic margaritas for me in Mexico, I took another HPT. Negative. I stared at that HPT for about 2 minutes before bursting into tears. I took 3 more HPTs, all negative. I called my Doctor in tears, who ordered a blood test to test my HCG level. My levels came back at 22 - I had just lost the baby. I was devastated. Crying in Mr. D's arms, I felt like someone took away the one goal I had set for myself. Why was this so hard?
We went to Mexico the next week, and I ended up miscarrying in our hotel room at our resort. It was painful, emotional, and the saddest experience of my life.
Two good things came from my miscarriage: one, my doctor started paying closer attention to me. Why don't I ovulate regularly? Why did I miscarry?, and two, Mr. D and I are now even more excited and ready to welcome a baby to our family.
So, what's happened since? I invested in the $150.00 Clearblue Easy Fertility Monitor. Usually, this kind of purchase would have made Mr. D's eyebrows raise with disappointment in the expensive investment, but he didn't even question it. I actually tried to justify it to him because I started to feel guilty about my purchase without talking it over with him first, and he didn't bat an eyelash. I was placed back on Prometrium in February, followed by my first round of Clomid 50 mg. I knew better than to get my hopes up, especially since I was blood-tested on Day 21 of my cycle to confirm ovulation. On Day 34, after 6 HPTs, AF showed up and we are back to starting over yet again.
So that brings us to today. I've contemplated starting a blog about this rollercoaster ride, especially after finding comfort online by reading others' experiences. When AF arrived on Sunday, I decided it was time for me to get this all out somehow. I don't expect followers (my friends and family barely know we're trying, let alone facing challenges), as I won't be sharing this website with most of them. I just need an outlet. TTC has not yet taken over my life, but I sure do focus on it a lot. I yearn for the day when I can take home my little child. I can not wait to be pregnant, and can't wait for Mr. D to be a father.
If you do happen to stumble upon this blog, I'd love to hear your thoughts. I truly believe things happen for a reason and that God's ultimate plan is out of my hands, but that won't stop me from dreaming of the day I have a baby. Until then, I will remain on The Journey to a Little One to Call Our Own...
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