Thankfulness

Mr. D and I took the day off work and I am currently sitting at my computer, sipping on a coffee, and looking out onto my patio, where the snow is lightly falling. The snow makes me really get into the holiday mood.

This year, there is just so much for me to be thankful for. Below is my top 10 list, in no particular order. I am thankful for:

1. Mr. D. Everything he is and everything about him is amazing. I will never love another person the same.

2. Our dog, R. He is kind of like our cute, fluffy, cuddly kid... he is the center of our home!

3. Our jobs. I love mine, Mr. D loves his. We work for amazing companies and we are proud of the work we do. It is so rewarding to love your career!

4. Gary and Sheila, a couple we've never met. They purchased our home over the summer in a crappy market. It was a miracle how smooth the whole process was, and the fact that they actually bought our place after it was on the market for 8 days, amongst all of the other homes for sale in our area in the overly-saturated housing market. What a blessing.

5. Our families. Great parents. Great sisters. Love their support, warmth, and care.

6. Warm coffee, some cream, and a little sugar... in the morning, afternoon, or whenever. Regular or decaf. It's all good :)

7. My blog and blog friends. When I started this blog, I had no idea what to expect. I have found my little spot on the internet to call my home, and I love that I have started virtual friendships with those whom I care about.

8. Our Catholic-based faith. Two years ago, we made it a priority to go to church every Sunday (before that, we were laid back about our attendance). Wow, do we love going to church. We love God and make our faith a priority each day.

9. Our financial planner, mortgage financer, and realtor. We are learning so much about our total financial well-being, and we feel so good about the decisions these key people in our lives have helped us with.

10. Our belief that someday, somehow, we will be parents. We have certainly been through a lot of steps we never thought we would, but it makes us know even more that we were meant to raise a family and have children. We can't wait for the day to come.

Happy Thanksgiving, my blog friends!

Welcome ICLW & Feeling Confident About IF

For those of you stopping by my blog for ICLW, welcome! I hope you enjoy my little space online to share my thoughts. For those of you who have stopped by before, welcome back :) Thanks for continuing along with me on this journey.

It's so great to have support in blogland, and I love comments! Leave me one, and I'll be sure to visit your space, too.

The quick, down-and-dirty story:

Mr. D is 30, and I am turning 30 next month (gulp). We've been in love for 6.5 years, married for 4.5 years, and trying to welcome a little one to our lives for 2 years. Tried lots of things... and failed at most. We conceived naturally last January and lost around week 7. Since then, we've experienced tests, procedures, appointments, confusion, prescription drugs, massage therapy, surgery, and more. My Doctor and RE keep shaking their heads, not really knowing what to tell us. We are a happy, healthy couple with no complications at this point (praise the Lord). We are investigating IVF as a next step, but trying on our own for the next couple months.

So, that's our story in a nutshell. We have so much to be thankful for, and can't wait to build the family we want so badly and have been patiently awaiting.

Last week at work, I met up with a woman who I've known for a couple of years. We used to work together, and I hadn't talked to her in almost a year due to different jobs we've both taken on throughout our company which took us on different paths, to different locations, etc. Anyway, she just came back from maternity leave after having their first baby. We caught up on work gossip, chatted about life, and then she finally asked the dreaded question I could just tell she was dying to ask:

"When are you going to start a family?"

In the past, I have responded to this question to different people in multiple ways. Usually, I lied and said something to the effect of, "Oh, someday we'll think about having kids, we're just really busy with our careers...." Blah, blah, blah. And then I would secretly, inwardly, want to cry (or sometimes I would go in private and shed some tears).

But for some reason, I felt like being really honest with her. Still not sure why... she's not a close friend by any means, but I felt like getting it all out.

I smiled and told her that we have been working through years of infertility issues, and while Mr. D and I want nothing more than to have children, we just haven't been able to conceive and have a child yet.

I think I kind of shocked her with my blunt response... she looked embarrassed. She kept apologizing and saying that she never should have asked. She literally looked like she wanted to crawl into a corner and hide from me.

But to me, I was glad she asked. And I told her that I was happy she asked, and that I was happy to share. And I meant it.

It is the first time I remember telling someone confidently about where we are at and feeling okay with it. Not feeling ashamed or sad or disappointed. Sure, it sucks, but I've decided that - in the right situations - I need to push myself to talk about it and be okay with where we're at. Mr. D and I don't have a choice whether we want to deal with IF, but I do have a choice about how I manage it.

I walked away from that conversation feeling really good. I was proud of myself for finally dealing with how I was feeling by expressing the facts, not just shoving reality under the rug and telling people what I think they want to hear.

Confidence is a good thing :)

Becoming More and More Real

For awhile now... a long while, really... this whole IF thing has been catching me off-guard. Or, maybe I have just been telling myself that it has.

For months... years, actually... I have been tricking myself into believing that "it's just this month that it didn't work", or "everything's going to be fine next time around" and "it will work next month." I would modify a slight step in our process, cross my fingers, and hope for the best. But after everything's been tried, time and time again, I now realize that I have been trying to talk myself out of IF... like everything will just work on its own. But, I know deep down that it's just not going away.

Every month had a reason, and I chalked it all up to random excuses to pacify my aching heart and confused mind:

- I probably didn't track well enough...
- Maybe we didn't have sex on the right day...
- Maybe I ovulated during a different day this month...

All the excuses in the book that all of the best-of-the-best-IF-gals have had. But I do need to face it. We really do have a medical condition, and that is IF.

It's late in the month, with no confirmed ovulation, no AF, and nothing really with this whole stupid, horrible process to look forward to. We really just need to bite the bullet and start injections, but I've been talking myself out of it... kind of like I think things are "just going to work out." And while I believe in miracles and that this whole IF journey is truly out of my control, I know that our chances are slim without some kind of help.

We've received help, but now, I guess we need even more.

Damn it.

You've Got Mail: Part 3... and, I'm Tired...

Yup. You read that correctly.

Another bill.

Another bill from my damn surgery a couple months ago that doesn't guarantee anything and hasn't proved one thing yet.

When will this crazy rollercoaster stop?

$199.42. Whatever. Check's already in the mail, and it doesn't even close-to-phase-me.

We've now WELL-surpassed several thousand dollars this year in IF-related expenses with nothing tangible for Mr. D and me to relish in, except for pure frustration and confused shoulder shrugs.

All of this guarantees nothing. No baby. No answers. No happiness yet.

I'm tired.

Mr. D's tired.

We're tired.

But, we believe. And, that's all that matters.

It's not about us. It's about what we believe.

And we believe we will be parents... some day, somehow. It will happen.

You've Got Mail: Part 2

That's right... another bill.

This time, $581.25. That's well over $1000 for a procedure and medicine that doesn't even guarantee that we'll be able to have babies. And we have good insurance! How do people with not-so-good insurance do it? I am going in for IUI next month - PRAYING that I don't need it and that we get pregnant this month - and I still need to figure out how much we get to fork over.

I don't care about how much it costs, I would just much rather be spending my money on carseats, strollers, daycare, baby furniture, and college funds.

I've changed my mind... I don't like getting the mail anymore.

Creme de la Creme 2010

About a year ago, after months of unsuccessful attempts at trying to conceive, I turned to my home computer in a depressed-kind-of-daze to research and try to find others who were experiencing the same questions, struggles, and sadness.

I never knew that such a supportive, wonderful community existed, and it has been incredibly helpful for me to write, post, and engage in others' blogs and experiences. It's kind of therapeutic for me to just write... even if my post isn't all that good. And I've found that it's even more therapeutic to engage in the community.

I submitted an entry to Creme de la Creme 2010, hosted by Stirrup Queen herself, and encourage you to do the same. All of us have the responsibility, in my opinion, to drive awareness and support of our community.

Happy weekend!

You've Got Mail

I am absolutely honored that I've noticed a few new visitors to my blog... welcome! Whether you stumbled upon this by searching out IF blogs, I sent you the link personally (highly unlikely... only a few people in my life actually know about my blog and/or struggles), or simply want to stay connected to have a friend in this entirely crazy world of TTC, welcome and I hope you keep stopping by. This blog has turned into my little home on the Internet. Leave me comments - we all need reassurance and support through this adventure - and you can be assured that I will be stopping by your "home" to give you support.

Okay, changing the subject.

You know what I love? Getting the mail. Maybe it's because everything is so digital now that Mr. D and I rarely get pieces of unsolicited, personal mail. Mail is rarely fun anymore. I'm kind of addicted to getting the mail. After work each day, I rush to the mailbox to see what's inside. I was expecting bills and junk mail, but yesterday, the mail surprised me. Guess what showed up in my mailbox? Three things:

1. A bill for my lapraoscopy surgery. More about this in a second.

2. A box of Enfamil formula from a popular "new mom" magazine. Barf. Ever since I signed up on one - yes, one - "new mother/baby" website when I was expecting back in January, I receive magazines, pamphlets, coupons, packages, and other random baby-related mailings. I tried to remove my address from their website, but somehow I still get horrible, painful reminders sent to me through these lovely, cute care packages. I've checked back with this company to ensure my address has been deleted, and they've assured me that they don't have me in their system. But, obviously, somehow, somewhere, they do. It's like a mean, gut-wrenching, dirty trick every time I see a package and get excited, only to be saddened that it's another damn reminder of something I still can't use. My advice? Don't sign up for anything baby-related until after the first trimester.

3. An autographed book sent to me by a well-known speaker and leader in the MN area. I went to a speaking engagement of his a few weeks ago, and he sent me a copy of his book. I can't wait to read it.

Back to #1 above. I already received a bill a couple of weeks ago. Not really looking at the specifics, I assumed that it was the one-and-only bill I would receive for the surgery. After all, I had confirmed what I thought to be my portion of the surgery cost with my insurance company prior to the procedure. The bill was for $48.24. No problem. Paid. Done.

Well, not really. I guess that was just for the anesthesia. The surgery, separate from the first bill, was over $1000, and we owe $312.52. It's no problem, but geez.... I think I need to go back and check my insurance plan. I thought they would cover way more of this, given it is a surgery that my RE and regular Dr. "prescribed." We have really good insurance... even the financial coordinator at my RE office mentioned that she thought we had great coverage. Anyone else had a similar experience?

I am going to be chatting with the insurance people soon... with potential IUI and - maybe - IVF coming up, I want to make sure we know what we're getting ourselves into financially. We've been saving a lot, and can figure out whatever we need to in order to make this happen, but boy, does it get pricey. I haven't keep track, but between co-pays, procedures, HPTs, ovulation kits, monitor.... and the list goes on.... we've had to have hit the $3000 mark this year.

But if all of this allows us to conceive, carry a baby, and bring a child into our family...

It's beyond worth it. Financially, emotionally, physically, whatever.

We just want a family.

Just Truckin' Along

It's CD 11, and there's not much to report this month... yet.

I'm back to using CBFM and hoping that it can even detect a peak this month. I've been away from my beloved CBFM for several months now, and it was weird to start peeing on testing sticks and sticking them into a machine again this month. I am just praying that my body is back on track and we can actually get this whole conceiving thing going. I am tired of talking about it, stressing out about it, and tracking every my every move.

I just want a baby. Please, Lord, help us. We are strong people, but it just feels emotionally that we can't take this much longer.

On a fun note, my good friend, Katie, who is so wonderful about checking in on me and reading this blog, turns the big 3-0 today. We are two months apart in age, grew up next door to each other until we were about 6 years old, and both have sisters who are almost 6 years younger than we are (they are also two months apart in age). We lived two houses apart, and not one childhood memory I have doesn't have Katie in it. Katie's family moved away when we were in kindergarten, and the one memory I have of my father ever shedding tears was when he hugged Katie's dad the night they left (my mother and I were crying, too, which, in turn made my baby sister start crying). My best friend didn't just move away; everyone in my family was touched by their family, and it's amazing that we still have a special bond with them today.

When I created this blog, I thought about how to start it off, and couldn't think of a better way than to recall my first memory of wanting to be a mother... back when Katie and I were kids, playing in my basement. Check out my first post where I reference our special friendship.

Happy birthday, my friend. I can only pray that my children have the same long-standing, over many years and many miles, true friendship that we have.