Welcome ICLWers!

Hello all, and welcome to my blog.  I am a 30 year old with PCOS.  My husband and I have been married for 2 1/2 years, and together for 6.  We are trying to start the family we've always wanted, but finding it to be much harder than we ever thought.  In the last year I have been pregnant three times, and lost all three.  Not many people can say they have been pregnant three times in one year, and it almost makes me sick to my stomach that I can say that.

I started this blog in March of last year, shortly after my first miscarriage.  When I started it, I expected to blog about my journey through infertility for a few months, and then have it quickly turn into a pregnancy blog, and then write about raising our first child and our life in general.  I never in a million years dreamed I would be sitting here a year later, still writing about our struggle, with two more losses under our belt. 

My husband and I are at a bit of a stalling point now in our TTC journey.  My ob/gyn has basically chalked all three losses up to "bad luck" and wants us to just keep trying and doing what we've been doing (Clomid).  Neither one of us can accept that and feel like we need to have more testing done before moving forward.  I plan on making an appointment with a RE in the very near future to explore our options.

I look forward to meeting some new faces and getting to know you!

Assumptions

I find it interesting how many people assume that you haven't had trouble conceiving.  I was talking with a coworker (who I have been pretty open with about my miscarriages) today and she made some comments that threw me off a little bit.  I don't know how we got on the subject, but she started talking about how she couldn't imagine having to give herself injections, take her temperature every day before she gets up, and time intercourse at the right time in order to get pregnant like some people do.  I wanted to say, "But that's pretty much what I had to do to get pregnant!"  But I didn't.  Once again, I remained silent.

You may remember this post where I talk about struggling with being able to be open and honest about our losses, but still can't bring myself to admit the other side of it.  The infertility side, and what it took for us to get pregnant in the first place.

And then I got to thinking, why does everyone make the assumption that people don't have trouble getting pregnant?  Just because I've been pregnant doesn't mean it didn't take a little extra effort to get there.  It's amazing how infertility doesn't even cross the minds of the majortiy of the population, but yet there are so many out there struggling with it.  Thinking about this also made me sad, because I realized I'm guilty of the exact same thing.

I thought about the friends I talked about in that same post, who miscarried with their second pregnancy.  They already had one healthy child, and so I made the assumption that they don't have trouble getting pregnant.  I assumed that their miscarriage was a fluke, and soon they will be announcing their next, healthy, pregnancy. 

I also thought about these friends, and how insanely jealous I instantly became when I found out they were expecting, even though I knew it was wrong of me because of the hardships they faced with the pre-term birth of their daughter.  I assumed they easily got pregnant this time, but how do I really know that? 

I guess when you are an infertile, you do feel isolated and that you are the only one dealing with it.  It's easy to assume that everyone else who has children had them handed to them.  But the reality is a fairly large percentage of them likely had some struggles along the way. 

This coworker, along with others, have made similar comments after finding out about one of our miscarriages.  "Well at least you don't have any trouble getting pregnant."  In a way, I mockingly laugh inside when I hear that from someone.  Like, I know something you don't know, ha ha ha ha ha.  I'm sure some day I'll come clean, as I feel the pressure to more and more.  I'm sure once we meet with the RE and get some things figure out and get a plan in place, I'll feel like I'm at a place then to possibly come out about our infertility.  But, until then I'll just pretend to others like I'm normal and fertile.  You know, just like everyone else is....

*A funny side note.  Here's a clip of our conversation today:
Coworker:  What does basil temperature even mean?  Do you have to stick it up your butt??
Me:  Haha, no. 

I thought all the infertiles out there would find this funny :)

Surviving

I have one word to sum up this weekend:  Sad.  I was pretty miserable doing nothing but sitting around the house all weekend crying, but at the same time I wanted to do nothing else but that.  If I would have let myself, I think I could have cried for hours and hours and still had tears left.  The tears and sobbing would just come out of nowhere and it took all I had to make myself stop.  I found myself getting frustrated with Jeff for not doing something to make me feel better.  And then I would feel guilty for getting upset with him because I knew I was in a place where nothing anybody did or said would make me feel better anyway. 

I know the majority of this is from my hormones being completely messed up right now, and I will feel better with time, but I sure wish this feeling would hurry up and pass quickly.  I have so many thoughts circling in my head right now, that it seems bullets are appropriate to lay it all out there. 

• What happens if we can't ever have children?  Can we be happy with it being just the two of us?  If we don't ever have kids, what will we do to fill the weeks, months, years to feel like we're still living a full life?  As the years go by will we start to be resentful towards each other?  I know it sounds cliche, but it's true that these losses have brought us so much closer.  Right now I feel like our marriage is stronger than ever.  But will it always be that way if we keep getting hit repeatedly with these hard blows? 

• As much as I'm hurting for myself, I'm hurting even more for Jeff.  He would be the best daddy and it kills me that I can't give him that. 

• 2011 was such a horrible year and I had so much hope for 2012.  Now, as quickly as the year started, all hope for a 2012 baby is already gone. In fact, the likelihood of us having a baby even a year from now is pretty slim.  I'm already dreading the holidays this year, it will be our 3rd Christmas since TTC where we're empty-handed.

• I'm anxious to meet with a RE and hopefully starting testing and getting some answers.  At the same time I'm not.  I don't have the strength for it yet. 

• As much as part of me wants to hurry up and try again, a bigger part of me does not.  I'm scared to death of being pregnant again and having this all taken away a 4th time.  I'm not sure how many more times I can go through this, and not having any kind of guarantee that the next pregnancy will be viable scares the crap out of me.

 

Mid-Cycle Freakout

Today is CD16.  This is usually the time every cycle where I start to have slight panic attacks, get frustrated with my body, and start to lose hope that I will ever a) ovulate, b) get pregnant again, and c) stay pregnant.

Every cycle once I coast right past CD14 (you know, the day when "normal" people ovulate) I start questioning everything:
 

• What if the Clomid doesn't work this cycle and I don't ovulate? 
• Why is my doctor still dinking around with 50mg, shouldn't we be moving me up to 100mg? 
• Am I doing the right thing by continuing to treat with my OB/GYN instead of a RE? 
• If I was treating with an RE instead, would he be doing anything differently? 
• What if we don't get pregnant this cycle?  That means the number of Clomid cycles we can do is diminishing, and what if we have to move on to injectibles with a RE? 
• Will Jeff or myself be able to give me shots if it comes down to that?
• Does ovulating later than "normal" mean my eggs are a poorer quality?  Is this the reason for my miscarriages?  Is there even such a thing?  If there is, then maybe I don't want to get pregnant this cycle afterall.
• What if we get burned out of having sex and miss my fertile window, simply because it takes me so long to ovulate and we get sick of doing it by then?
• What if I don't get pregnant again with Clomid alone?  What if someday it comes down to IVF?  Will that be a huge waste of money if I can't even stay pregnant?
• Why does this have to be so hard?

I know I sound like a raging lunatic.  But honestly, every single one of these thoughts ran through my head (multiple times) last night as I tried to go to sleep. 

Someone please have me committed. 

At least then I wouldn't have to worry about all this stuff.

Eating My Words

So....I may have to eat my words from my last post.  I may have ovulated afterall.  My BBT has been high for a few days now and it appears I have.  I have an appointment today to get my progesterone checked, so only time will tell for sure.  I would show you my chart but I can't figure out how to!

So why can't I seem to get positive OPKs?  I think I've written about this before that I am never able to catch my surge.  Is my surge really that short?  I get so frustrated with them that I've decided I'm not going to use them anymore.  I trust that as long as we're having sex every other day we should be covered, even though that didn't happen this cycle.  I find that by using the OPKs I get more focused on looking for that positive instead of just doing it.  They seem to do me more harm than good so I've decided to give them up. 

Other than TTC, things in my life are going well.  Despite our super crappy year, I'm letting myself enjoy the holiday season this year.  Our house is decorated, we managed to throw a few lights on our shrubs, and I've already spent one weekend baking cookies.  I plan on spending this weekend doing some more baking (and them I'm sure I'll be sick of it, haha!).  We did some shopping last night and managed to get quite a few gifts crossed off our list, which makes me feel way less stressed.  I think this is the first year that we actually know what we're getting everyone and aren't waiting until the last minute to do our shopping.  We are, however, struggling with ideas for our 2 year old nephews - so if anyone has ideas I'll gladly take them! 

Buckling Up and Holding on Tight

Guess what?  AF (aunt flo, aka: my period) arrived on Saturday!  I've never been so excited for AF to show up.  I'm not only excited for the fact that this means we can start trying again, but it also means my body really did cooperate and ovulated all on it's own.  Maybe I do need to try and have a little more faith in my body afterall? 

So....that means that today is CD3 and I'll be starting Clomid.  I never dreamed that when I miscarried in October that we would be able to start trying again in November already.  I feel really good about this.  I'm hopeful that I will get pregnant again and will actually stay pregnant this time.  Then again, maybe I'm just being stupidly optimistic and will get my heart broken again.  But, you can't win if you don't play though, so let the rollercoaster ride begin!

The Half Truth

I feel deceitful. 

We came out to more friends of ours this weekend about our losses.  This couple lives out of town and it's been a year since we've seen them (crazy how time flies).  They came tailgating with us.  When the morning started off I wasn't sure if I was going to share our losses with them or not.  It wasn't like I was trying to hide it from them, I just wasn't sure if tailgating was the proper time to discuss such a huge topic.  I figured if it came up, it came up, and if not, fine.

I will make a confession here:  This couple already has a 2 1/2 year old daughter.  So I was bracing myself for another pregnancy announcement.  As she stepped out of their car, I held my breath, preparing to see a bump.  I didn't see one and let out a huge sigh of relief.  Then I found out she was drinking a cup of coffee with Bailey's in it.  Another even bigger sigh of relief escaped me.  Phew, I dodged another pregnancy announcement bullet.

Over the course of the morning the subject of our nieces and nephews came up.  For some reason the time just felt right to me, and I basically blurted out to her "I've had two miscarriage this year."  She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said "I've had one too."  So, we talked (and cried) about our losses, and our husbands even joined in on the conversation.  It felt so freeing to just let it all out and be open and honest about what is such a taboo subject. 

One thing I have found is when the subject of miscarriages come up, the conversation inevitably leads to infertility.  About how there are other couples we know that can't even get pregnant.  There are other men out there who have to stick shots in their wives' butts in order to have a chance at getting pregnant.  There are other couples we know that may never have kids at all because they've been doing treatments for a long time and they aren't working. 

This is how the conversation turned this weekend and I didn't say anything.  I stayed silent.  I didn't speak up about our own infertility.  I never do.  Why?  I'm not sure.  I told Jeff later that I feel so guilty for only telling people the half-truth.  I have no problem being 100% open about our losses, but for some reason I'm so scared to admit we are dealing with infertility also.  Both miscarriage and infertility are taboo topics in our society, but why is one more easier to admit to than the other?  I am a "face of infertility" and should be representing this community, but I don't. 

I simply remain silent.

Welcome ICLWers!

Hello fellow bloggers!  I've only participated on ICLW once, and it was several months ago, so excuse me if I'm a little rusty.  After our second loss I felt compelled to participate again and try to reach out to others that may be going through the same things I am. 

A quick background:  I'm 30 and my husband is 37.  We have been together for over 5 years, and married for 2.  We started TTC a year and a half ago, and a handful of fertility drugs and two miscarriages later, we are right back to where we started.  I always suspected I would have some trouble conceiving, but never in a million years dreamed it would take this long, or that we would face not one, but two, losses. 

Where we stand today:  our second loss was just a couple weeks ago.  I have a follow up appointment with my doctor in two weeks and at that time we'll be discussing in more detail having testing done for RPL (recurrent pregnancy loss). 

I look forward to "meeting" some new people and following your journeys!

Preparing For A Temp Drop

When we started TTC again, I told myself this time around I wasn't going to get my hopes up.  In my life I always set myself up for disappointment, and therefore I made a pact with myself not to do this while TTC this second time around.  Well, that's way easier said than done.

I had told myself I wasn't going to get stressed out if 3 or 4 Clomid cycles go by and I'm not pregnant yet.  Maybe after 4 cycles I'll let myself start panicking.  And I for sure wasn't placing any expectations at all on this very first cycle.  Ha!  Here I am at 8dpo and I'm already imagining the "what ifs".  I swore I'd never be one of those girls that gets all excited over phantom symptoms.  Especially now that I know what it really feels like (or doesn't feel like) this early on in a pregnancy.  However, with every little twinge I feel in my abdomen I get excited thinking this is it. 

*sigh*

So, all I can do is try not to think about it for the next few days and brace myself for a temp drop.  I'm going to try really hard to hold out on testing until 12dpo because I think a temp drop would be easier to see than a BFN.  But who are we kidding?  A temp drop is going to sting just as bad. 

Clomid Round 1.2

Well, we're officially back in TTC game.  My period finally decided to make it's grand appearance over the weekend.  It actually started on the last day of my Provera pills so I was a little surprised to see it that soon, but definitely no complaints here! 

The reason I'm calling this round 1.2 is because technically this is my second round of Clomid, however my first round was way back in October and therefore it feels like we're starting over again for the first time.  Calling it round one would be incorrect, but at the same time calling it round two doesn't quite feel appropriate either.  So, I'm thinking of it as a second go at round one.  For some reason I'm having many mixed emotions about this, and it took me several hours today to muster up the courage to take the first pill.  I think I'm mostly worried that my body won't cooperate and it will end up being yet another very frustrating cycle.  And I what I mean by not cooperating is not ovulating.  I honestly don't expect to get pregnant this first cycle TTC again.  I'm not feeling pressured by any means, and am going to give it 3-4 cycles before starting to get too concerned if not pregnant by then.     

Ouch, that stung!

I have come to an interesting realization.  Ever since making my miscarriage known to people, I have noticed that those around me think that I am suppose to be overjoyed at others' pregnancy or baby related announcements and news.  I think people assume that just because you are now trying to conceive and have babies on the brain, that any baby news is going to bring you joy.  What they don't realize is that after you have suffered a miscarriage, others' baby news is the last thing you want to hear about.  Yes, any child is a blessing from God and should be welcomed into the world with open arms.  And yes, I am happy for those who are so blessed.  However, it still stings.  It stings a lot.  Call me selfish if you will, but as happy as I am for others, I want my own. 

I don't necessarily think it's the news itself that bothers me.  I understand life goes on and people continue to procreate.  I think what bothers me is the expectant look in people's eyes when they deliver the news.  It's a look that says:  "Isn't that the most wonderful news you have ever heard and aren't you just so over-the-moon happy for them/me?" 

I also know, however, that when I am lucky enough to have my own I want others to be happy for me.  I don't want people to cringe and turn their head the other way.  I don't want people to make me feel guilty for being blessed with a child.  But those are the kinds of responses I give to others.  I feel guilty about my reaction afterwards, but in the moment it is the only way I know how to cope. 

So my question is, how does one go about temporarily pushing their own grief aside in order to be happy for others?

Getting Cold Feet

At the time of my D&C, Dr. C. was already talking about when we could start trying again.  Much to my surprise she said we only had to wait this one cycle, and once I got my period we could start trying again.  On average, women should get their period about 4-6 weeks after a miscarriage.  However, with my history of long cycles Dr. C. said if we made it to the eight week mark and no period, she would prescribe Provera to induce one.  At the time I couldn't even imagine what my life would look like eight weeks from then.  Having to wait eight weeks seemed like an eternity.  I mean, eight weeks: that's two whole months!  Of course I was mourning the loss of our baby, but at the same time very eager to start trying again. 

Well, this coming Tuesday marks eight weeks and I haven't even ovulated yet.  The last two months have flown by and I can't believe we're closing in on time to start trying again.  At this point I'm very undecided as to whether or not I want to call for the prescription.  As soon as my period starts, I'll be starting Clomid a few days later, and we'll officially be actively trying again.  It's crazy to think there's a possiblity that I could be pregnant again a month from now.  One one hand I want to call for the Provera and get started.  On the other hand, I want to let nature takes it's course and wait until my body ovulates, and in turn has a period, on it's own.  Maybe I'm putting too much faith in my own body, but deep down I feel like she can do it! 

If I'm being honest with myself though, I'm avoiding making that call because I'm scared.  Once we start trying again, it opens up all sorts of possibilities.  Once we start trying it opens up the possiblity that my body may not ovulate despite the help of Clomid.  It opens up the possibility of the disappointment and heartache of negative pregnancy tests.  Even worse, it opens up the possiblity of getting that elusive positive pregnancy test, only to miscarry again and lose yet another baby. 

Our TTC Journey Thus Far

I stopped taking birth control pills in May 2010 after being on them for 10 years.  After a couple of long, irregular cycles (60-90 days), my ob/gyn (Dr. C.) decided to do some bloodwork, which ended up showing that I have PCOS.  Dr. C. explained the first course of action would be to take a fertility drug called Clomid to make me ovulate.  Clomid is taken for 5 days and is usually prescribed for cycle days (CD) 3-7 or 5-9.  I was prescribed to take it CD3-7.  I did ovulate that cycle, but didn’t get pregnant.  In the meantime I had been doing some research, and had found that patients should be monitored with ultrasounds while taking Clomid.  Dr. C. had told me she didn’t think this was necessary.  I had also read that prior to taking Clomid, other tests should be done to rule out other possible fertility issues.  These include a semen analysis and a HSG, a procedure where they check to make sure your fallopian tubes are open.  We didn’t have those done either.  I decided to forgo using Clomid the next cycle, and seek a second opinion.  On January 6th my husband and I met with a RE (reproductive endocrinologist).   He didn’t think extra monitoring with ultrasounds was necessary either.  He said studies have shown monitoring versus not monitoring doesn’t affect the outcome of treatment with Clomid.  He also didn’t feel a semen analysis or HSG were necessary at the time.  He suggested we try 3 more rounds with the Clomid first, and if I didn’t get pregnant we would proceed with those tests.  Little did we know as we were sitting in the RE’s office, our sperm and egg had already met and I was pregnant!  I tested positive on January 14, 2011.  We were both excited, but very cautious as we knew the rate of miscarriage is very high (15%-20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage).  My first  ultrasound at 7 weeks 2 days showed everything looked great and the baby was developing right on track.  However, over the last weekend in February I started having some light bleeding.  We ended up going to the emergency room that Sunday evening and found that the baby had stopped developing at 7 weeks 6 days.  At that point I was supposed to be 9 weeks 6 days.  I had a D&C on March 1st to complete the miscarriage. 

Different

I've always felt like I was different from other girls my age growing up.  Coming into adolescence I always seemed to be a little behind others my age.  I can remember being in 5th or 6th grade and anxiously awaiting my last few teeth to fall out so that I could have braces like everyone else in my class already did.  Most people dreaded getting braces, but I wanted them so badly just so I would fit in.  I watched as people came back from their orthodontist appointments every month with a new color combo on their bands. I couldn't wait for the day when I could have green bands on my bottom braces and red bands on top for the Christmas season (and black and orange for Halloween of course!).  However, by the time my last tooth fell out and the braces were put on everyone else was getting theirs off and having braces wasn't so cool anymore....

In 5th grade they made us watch the much-anticipated "sex" videos.  They separated us out and put boys in one classroom and girls in another.  I was so excited thinking they were going to explain in great detail how men and women have sex.  As it turns out, we watched some corny 10 minute video on girls getting their periods for the first time and how to use a sanitary pad.  Boy was I disappointed! I can't imagine what kind of video the boys had to watch.  If they weren't showing us videos on how to have sex, what else would 5th grade boys need to know?!  Each girl received a little packet that included a pamphlet and a couple sanitary pads.  I came home and put my packet in my dresser drawer, and would get it out on occasion, anxiously awaiting the day I would be able to use them.  Most girls in my class had already started their periods by now and knew how to use all that stuff.  But not me....

As the years went by with no period, my mom would reassure me that I was normal and just took a little longer than other girls my age.  As I would cry myself to sleep on many, many nights, she would always remind me how I had to wait longer than everyone else to get braces, and I was just a little slower with menstruating also and eventually I would catch up.  It made me feel better for awhile, but it was always in the back of my mine how un-normal I was.... 

When I turned 14 with no period in sight, my mom made an appointment for me with her gynecologist.  He sent me for a blood test to check my thyroid, which came back normal.  He said if I hadn't gotten my period in a year to come back.  That year came and went with no period so I went back to the doctor, and he told me the same thing.  By the time another year passed, the doctor finally prescribed some pills (Provera) for me to take to induce my first period.  I took the pills and finally, at age 16, I got my first period!  I continued to get a period after that but my cycles were very long, averaging about 1 period every two months....

I didn't know then, but I now know these long cycles are one of many symptoms of PCOS.