Friday, September 12, 2014

One Day.. One Step

I started writing a post about the last year and how it went I didn't publish the draft. I couldn't finish it, but I left this unfinished for a while too.

If there is anything the last year has taught me, if there is anything infertility has taught me, it is to take it one step at a time, one day at a time.

There are and always will be days I fall apart, there are and will be days where I flounder and I feel like I cannot go on. Thinking about how long this journey has been or will continue to be, it overwhelms me, so I think about that next step. Sometimes that is all I manage to think about.

If I can just put one foot in front of the other, keep on walking, that should eventually get me there right?

There is no right way to cope with losses, like yesterday it occurred to me that I would be planning for a shower soon with this most recent loss, that the baby was due in December. Of course, then I thought about the one that would have turned 3 in june or 2 in november. It just kinda devolved from there.

This morning as I edit this post and nibble on chocolate, I keep forcing myself to focus on my AF that is going to make an appearance next week, the next big clomid cycle coming up. It is a big one for DH & I went against Drs recommendation of IVF, we are going to have to make a decision soon on how many more clomid cycles. 

I cant think about turning 34, or that its been over 4 years of trying to get pregnant. More and more people around me in real life have become mothers, some know my journey, even they dont help. I hear things like " you can never sleep in again" "it is so much work to have babies" "havent watched a movie in ages". I bite my lips and hold that angry retort where I say I would trade it all in without a second thought. What is the point? They are not going to get it, are they?

One step at a time, one day at a time, its the only way I know to make it. So for now, I wait for the next step AF and focus everything on that.

Thursday, September 4, 2014


Hematoma, such an ugly word. In the past I've associated this word with a dire diagnosis on House.

You know the one where they're trying to figure out why this patient is dying and they blurt out hematoma as the horrendous diagnosis.

My first real life brush with a hematoma happened about a year ago this time, I went in for my follow up appointment after my myomectomy and voila they found a hematoma.

My dr made it sound like it wasn't a big deal. Will wait and see what happens, he said,  minor aspiration procedure if necessary, he said.

After my appointment when I told my family, there was a massive meltdown, I think of visions of me dying were playing on everyone's minds. We can be a little melodramatic as a family.

I learned to live with the pain that felt like an invisible bruise. When the doctor said it would heal, let's wait and watch, I thought 2 months, three tops. Here I m 13 months later with the hematoma a minor version of its former formidable self but still very much there.

Imagine my surprise when I learn now that the hard knot I m feeling on my side,  the site of a long gone lovanox bruise,  is in fact,  a hematoma.  Drumroll please

This one doesn't hurt,  this one just feels funny,  like a hard pebble I m afraid someone forgot inside me.  It's become a part of my routine during the day to check for its presence,  hoping it will go away.

The thing about hematomas and living with them,  it's yet another gift of infertility.  Yep I feel like infertility is the gift that keeps on giving.

But speaking of the gift of infertility, I did argue with my nurse today. We were talking about MTFHR and I asked her whether I need it to be on bio active folate. I explained to her that I spoke to an authority on MTFHR, who said that I needed to be on bio active folate.  My nurse was not amused, and explained to me in a rather serious tone that I was on metanx already. Later dr google tells me metanx is  bioactive and I argued with my nurse for nothing.

Yep so that happened.