Girls night out
So I went out with some friends yesterday. M, who knows everything about our TTC struggle, and K and N who know only that we are TTC because I must have told them when we first started and were still naive enough to think it would happen soon. And the funny thing is, M has 2 kids, both conceived on the first month trying. K and N have no kids still, they are not trying yet. M asked me, before the dinner, if I wanted to talk about it or not. I told her I'd rather not. K and N don't know anything about the last year and a half our our life, so they ignore everything concerning treatments, injects, u/s, the miscarriage, the hard times and painful decisions.
Of course, since we all went to highschool together, we had to talk about people we knew back then and where they are today. I had nothing to say there, I'm not speaking to anybody from highschool except those girls. But they had a lot to say. I had the pleasure to hear about a dozen pregnancy announcments and births and kids and all that crap. I even had the privilege to hear about that woman whom I don't know. She fell in love, they tried to have a baby. After 4 years TTC and fertility treatments, she got pregnant. The guy got freaked out and left her. She thought she would never be able to raise the kid on her own, so she got an abortion and learned she was carrying twins. What an horrible, horrible story. Why on earth would someone tell me that story? What am I supposed to gain from that? I'm still feeling sick just thinking about it.
When the spotlight came to me and they asked me where we were at, I simply kindly said "we're still at the same point. I don't want to talk about it if you don't mind." They seemed to understand and respect that. But the conversation went quickly back to pregnancy, children and family. I thought my uneasy look and my lack of participation to those conversations were clear enough signs that I wished to change the subject. Man, we have not seen each other for more than a year and this is what we have to talk about? Other people's kids? I was bummed that I could not escape the infertility world for just one night. I still felt alone and small and a failure.
Sincerely, I don't care about the morning sickness of this girl and the name that girl has picked out. I don't give a damn about the imminent birth of that girl's baby and that this other girl finally got pregnant the month she decided to LET GO (oh. my. god). I don't care about these people that are no longer in my life, that have not been for more than 10 years. I do not wish them any harm. I just hope I would know nothing about their happiness. What you don't know don't hurt you, right?
I don't need to be told not to give up. I certainly don't need to know it worked for you sister's haidresser. I don't need pity. I just need and want respect and sensitivity. I'm not asking people who know nothing about our TTC battle to be kind to me. They cannot be sensible to something they don't know exists. But I am expecting a minimum of sensitivity and respect from my friends who know we are having a hard time. I have said this before, it is so unbelievable how people can forget what we tell them when they don't know what to do with the info. I am not asking them to tell me what to do or to give me assvice. I don't even expect them to say anything, because there isn't much they can say. I just want them NOT to say certain things, that's all.
On the drive back with M, she asked me "Were you as sick as me of all that baby talk?" Thank god I have you M.
Going out tonight
It's been such a long time since I went out with friends. Tonight, I'm going to the restaurant with some friends, just the girls, just for fun. We're probably gonna go have a drink after that, but I won't be drinking, with the meds I am taking at the moment (usual fertility cocktail and antibiotics for my ear). I'll enjoy the girls night out anyway! And no TTC talk since 2 of them don't even know we're trying. I think we're just gonna talk about the good ol' times, when we were in highschool and life was SO much easier. Aaah those were the days...
*EDITED to say they did know we were TTC, but nothing more. See next post...
Family
I have two brothers, I’m the middle child. They both always had it easier than me. Approval from my parents, school results, friends, they always got their way. I’ve had to fight all my life. I was good in school, but I had to study very hard to get results not nearly as good as theirs, which they had without even opening a book. My parents gave me no rights. I was a girl, I was a rebel, so I had no freedom and most of all, no trust. I’ve always had a terrible relation with my mother, until we both moved out of the house and saw each other not very often. Now we get along ok. I am not close to my family, not at all. Of course I love them, but the less I see them, the better I feel about myself. I’ve never felt free to be myself when around them. So obviously, noone knows about our infertility and stuff.
For so long, I have done my best to prove to my parents I was as worhty of their pride as my brothers. I may not be as good in maths and science, but I am way more mature and self-sufficient. I may not be as friendly and cool, but I have a whole lot of creativity and smartness. I always felt I had to give double the efforts to get the same result they did. When I left home, I was very proud to be the first one to do so. For once, I was the first in something, no matter what it was. I was the first one free, with my diploma and my job, my appartment and my boyfriend. I wanted them to be proud of me. If they were, they never told me.
Today, both my brothers have a girlfriend, a job and an apparment. I have been full-time self-employed for 5 years now and I know somehow my parents are proud of me. Not because they told me so, but because I have succeeded in convincing myself they are. I was the first to buy a house. That was something big for me, a huge accomplishment. It meant I had success with my carreer and my relationship. It meant I did good in life. My big brother is getting married this summer. He will be the first to get married. I don’t care, we don’t want to get married, it’s not for us. But a first place I lust for, is to be the first one to give my parents a grand-child. My brothers don’t have kids yet and from what they say, it won’t be soon. Even if it’s a relief for me to know that, I am always afraid of the oops-babies. Whenever one of my brothers tells us “we should have dinner soon all of us” I always expect the worse (the worse for me, not for them, of course). I build up scenes in my head where one of them (or both, the nightmare!) makes the big announcement he’s gonna be a dad. I picture myself trying to smile and congratulate them while all I can hear and feel is my heart shattering to pieces. I am very afraid of that day. I am very afraid of seing everybody but me get pregnant. I know it’s stupid and childish to be so competitive still with my brothers. But I still feel the same pressure, the same expectations from my parents. I still feel like I did in highschool, unsure and unworthy of their pride. I still feel like a failure to their eyes.
Friends around us are having children. Some have had two since we started TTC. Yes, it hurts. But it’s not the same. My parents still have no grand-children. There is still that first place to win.
P has only one younger brother. And his parents are like mine, they do not see what he is really worth. They underestimate him and criticize him and make him feel so bad whenever he sees them. When we bought a house, P was so pround and felt so good to see that his parents finally recognized some good in him. But his brother quickly stole his thunder when he bought a house too. Not that I want P’s parents to worship him, no, but it’s nice once in a while to have some attention. My SIL has always had things easy, kinda like my brothers, but with lots of money. Everything came to her on a silver plater. She never had to struggle for anything. And the mere thought of her getting pregnant before me makes me sick to my stomach. I would rather see my two brothers have kids before me than her. I don’t wish she never has kids. I just wish she has them after us. At Christmas, she told us they would start TTC in a year or two. I thought “good, we still have time.” But I never forget the possibility (except for us!) of an oops-baby.
Last Sunday, we had breakfast with the IL. When my SIL arrived, she told us she would not kiss us because she was sick. She said “I threw up this morning.” and my BIL said “It must be something she ate, because I’m feeling fine.” I may not be normal, I don’t know, but the first thing that came to my mind was “well there you have it! She’s pregnant!” She works with kids and is sick all the time. But when she ordered a big glass of milk with her breakfast, a thing she never does, that sealed the deal. Of course they didn’t say anything. They just left us there, our imagination running wild, expecting the worse and biting our nails until they make the big announcement. I’m so sure this is it, I could bet that in a couple of weeks they’re gonna tell us they’re gonna be parents. I have to be ready. I have to practice my surpised and happy look. I have to sound sincere. I need to choose my words carefully and learn them. I’ll even write them in my had so I don’t forget what to say. If I don’t, I’ll probably say what’s really on my mind and gees, you wouldn’t want that.
I was frustrated and pissed when that happened. What better timing than CD1 for that kind of story? I now know what people mean when they say SIL are there to create havoc. Maybe I’m imagining things. Maybe I jump too fast to conclusions. Maybe I got it all wrong. I sure hope so. Maybe my SIL really was sick (but for god’s sake, who orders a glass of milk after throwing up?). Maybe I am too obsessed with my own infertility that I turn everything around my empty uterus.
I have to realize that one day or an other, someone close to us is going to break our heart with what’s supposed to be the best news of their life. We have to realize we are not gonna have kids before anybody in our family. And we’re gonna have to be happy for them and try not to put our failure and our sadness before their happiness. Maybe it’s self-centered to be thinking this. But then again, I don’t think it’s self-centered to wish to have what others have. It’s not self-centered to hope to live that kind of miracle too. It’s not self-centered to spite my SIL for what my heart is telling me is the truth. It’s self-defense.
Babydust: mystery solved
Following Suz's comment about babydust, I did a little investigation. After much digging and searching, I found this to be the origin of babydust. Much cuter than dust-bunnies and cat fur.
The end and the beginning... again
Friday afternoon, I had some spotting the size of a quarter. Not much, but just enough to make me think the cycle was officially over and it still had not worked. But the spotting stopped. Saturday, nothing. Some pinkinsh stuff after sex, but really, nothing. Just enough to make me wonder if it was not maybe implantation spotting or my uterus stretching... Foolish. Sunday morning, my period arrived full force.
Every cycle it's the same old story. No matter how hard I try to convince myself it's not gonna work and I'm never going to be a mom, I still end up expecting a miracle and being disappointed and frustrated. I try to fight back the tiny glimmer of hope that keeps creeping in during the 2 weeks following ovulation, but it still manages to settle in and make damages. I would like to be pessimistic and keep my feet on the ground. But it seems impossible, even after so much time. Stupid positivity making me get my hopes up for nothing.
The worst about all this, is that I end up mad at myself for letting my feelings get the better of me. I am angry to have been fooled by my own imagination. My body is laughing at me, telling me what I want to hear and then doing the opposite. I want to let go, I really do. I would love to shut off all thinking during the 2ww. Or better yet, sleep it all off and wake up when it's over. I try not to think *too much* about all this. But it would be like asking me not to breathe for 2 weeks. I just can't.
After the arrival of the red tide, come the days of self-pity and rage. I repeat to myself I will never be a mom, I don't believe it anymore, it will never happen to us, we're not worth it, we're not cut out to be parents. My belly is not good enough, my love not strong enough to create and sustain life. And I ask the same old stupid rhetorical questions: why us? why me? why??! why do I keep going on this merry-go-round? The mix of rage, disappointment, injustice, hope, being sick of it all and wanting to go on is all too much to take. These self-centered days are triggered by the end of the cycle, but kept alive for some time by the Femara-demon.
I am tired of playing the same tune over and over again. I am tired of all this. I am tired of seing everybody around me BUT me get pregnant. I don't know how much longer I will be able to keep this up. I am tired of seing P's face so sad when I tell him it's over. I am tired and alone and frustrated and pissed. But, most of all, I still do have some hope. If I didn't, why would I still be doing all this?
Babydust
Before saying what I have to say about babydust, I want to say that I really appreciate every word of encouragement. Sincerely, it gives me great confort to know there are people out there thinking positive thoughts for me. Babydust, positive thoughts, +++, fingers crossed, hoping and praying, anything, I really, trully, appreciate it. I could never thank enough my web friends for all their support. No matter the words they use, it always goes straight to my heart.
This said...
I have received SO much babydust in the last 2+ years, I don't know what to do with it. It's making a huge mountain in my backyard. Maybe I could ski on it or roll big balls of babydust and build babydust men, with a funny hat and an old hpt for a nose. Wouldn't that be lovely? We could also throw each other some babydust balls and make babydust angels, lying on our backs looking up at the sky.
What the hell is babydust anyway? Who came up with that expression? When I think of dust, I think of what's rolling under my bed, I think of an old library smelling like humidity and mildew, I think of cat fur and and bread crumbs, I think of the side of the roads in Montreal in November. I never think of anything beautiful when I think of dust. Of course, I could think about what the shooting stars leave behind. But let's face it, it does not come first in the list of dusts. For me, dust is something deteriorating and dying. It is not something shiny and hopeful. So why Babydust? Where does it come from? Is the dust produced from a baby has true virtues? Just the thought of it gives me shivers. Maybe I have too much imagination. Or maybe I have too much time to kill before the 2ww is over. Aaah yes, that must be it... Is there such a thing as patience dust? Because I could really use some right now.
Patience? What patience?
Ok ok so you caught me, I caved! I peed on a stick this morning, too excited after my temp jump. It was negative, but I am only 11 dpo. I know it's not imposible to have a positive test that early, but I know also it is possible to still get one later too. So, I have promised myself not to test again until Friday. I thought I would be good and patient this cycle. Since it was supposed to be a cycle off at first, I thought it would go by real fast. But I thought wrong. The last days are always long. Even if I don't feel as hopeful as I did when we started TTC almost 3 years ago, I have managed to find some pieces of hope left in the basement closet. So here I am, looking at my chart, trying to make something appear with only the strength of my stare, taking note of every twinge and feeling I have in my body. I know better than to listen to my body when it comes to symptoms. It has fooled me so many times before, I won't be fooled again! I am crampy since noon, I felt very nausious last night, there's some pulling down there... But all these signs could also be my period preparing. So I won't get my hopes up, no matter how many people tell me my chart looks good (but thanks!). I want to be surprised, may it be by a positive hpt or by my period. I over analyse everything. For once, I will try to go with the flow. Oh who am I kidding? This is my 9th ovulation in 3 years, I am entitled to some obsessive behavior at the end of the 2ww!
This is just a bonus cycle, since we were supposed to be taking a break. So if it doesn't work out, we won't be losing anything, right? I know we'll get over it, we always have. It won't be anything new. I know what it is when a cycle ends up with a crash. So it should not scare me or make me want to roll in a ball and stay in bed for a week. I know it won't be the end of the world. I will be disappointed, of course, but not devastated. Can you see I'm trying to convince myself here?
So, is it Friday yet?
Spring cleaning
Spring is finally here. For how long, I do not know. I still believe there's gonna be one last snowfall before spring definitely unpacks its bags, but I do hope I am wrong. So we took advantage of this lovely weekend and we racked and cleaned our backyard. We were supposed to have 2 big maple trees cut down today, but it got delayed to tomorrow. I hate having to cut down trees, but it's the sacrifice we have to make to get some sun in our backyard. I want a garden and flowers, so we have no choice. We still have 4 other big trees anyway.
Today we cleaned the whole house. It smells fresh, clean and there are no dust bunnies to be found. The amount of cat fur I picked up today from under the furniture in incredible. It's like a whole cat! It HAD to be done!
I love spring. I feel like it's a fresh new start every year. I wake up, my face warms up in the sun, I stretch my arms and shake the dust off my life. I wish it lasted longer than a split second.
As for my cycle and stuff, nothing new. My chart is flat, but looking good. I'm not feeling anything. I'm not expecting anything. I am just waiting.
Rebirth
Six years ago yesterday, P. told me he didn't think he loved me anymore. Six years ago, P. was leaving me and my world was crumbling. My dreams of a house, a baby and our couple shattered. I had to leave my appartment and start a new life. I was so close to my dreams, now I had to do it all over again. We were friend before being lovers. So we decided it was important to stay friends after the break-up. Well, I was still in love with him, so it was even more improtant for me to stay close and not let him get away so easy.
I have learned a lot about myself, about my own limits and my own strength during the few months we were apart. I have grown, I have changed and matured. I worked a lot on my attitude issues and self-control. Then P. came around and told me he still loved me after all. Our second beginning together was slow and safe. We did not want to make the same mistakes again. We had to rebuild our trust, our confidence. We wanted to work on our relationship. So in my heart, I had to put the house and baby projects on hold for a moment. Our couple was more important at that time for me. Two years later, I started bugging him about having a baby. It took about one year before he told me "alright, after that cycle, you stop taking birth control and we can start trying."
Our love is very strong today. I love him more than anything and I know in my heart he feels the same. Of course, the road is bumpy sometimes. But never as bumpy as it was before the break-up. It has never been the same since then. It's been better. What I thought at the time was the worst day of my life turned out to be a rebirth for me and for our couple. We are on the same level and best friends. I trully believe the strength of our friendship, which has been put to the test even more so than our love, is what makes our relationship so strong and what keeps us together and in love.
I won't thank P. for breaking my heart 6 years ago. But I will thank life for putting him on my path and for shaking us so. It has made us what we are today. And I love what we are today.
This just in!
Well, so much for taking a break this cycle! We could not restrain from BDing like bunnies theses last few days... I took some OPK which were all negative (well, at least I thought!). I usually ovulate on CD25 when on Metformin and Femara alone. I had been noticing some eggwhite stuff for a couple of days. Didn't read much into it. But this morning, my temp made a big jump sky high. Yep, I did ovulate, on CD20 (yesterday) and we have not taken any precautions. So I find myself once again in the 2 ww. I must say I am pretty happy about it. I was still skeptical about the whole "ovulate without injectibles" thing since my two last cycles on injects had not been easy. And what the heck, IF it works out this cycle, we will manage without the gov. program for Maternity leave. It was not there when we first started TTC almost 3 years ago, we knew we would have managed then, so we will if we have to now. Would be quite a Christams gift. My hope is still pretty much dried out, but this little April surprise goes straight to my heart. I won't get my hopes up. I won't be disappointed when I don't see a second line on the HPT. But I will allow myself to be happy for this early ovulation with no injectible meds and for the way life has changed our plans of taking a break. I was never really ok with the idea of taking a break in the first place anyway, so there you have it...
