bump #32: relaxing didn't work

No surprise there.

Turns out infertility thrives on inaction or "relaxing" so there will be NO MORE OF THAT!

For this next cycle, it's back to medical intervention.

 IUI #2 (intrauterine insemination)

or the turkey baster method. Thanksgiving is right around the corner, so it's fitting!

The good news is that we have done this before so we know what to expect.

The bad news is that we have done this before and it didn't work.

Hopefully the hysteroscopy in July removed that obstacle.



Our doctor recommended undergoing 3 IUI's before moving on to higher level infertility treatments. There is nothing magical about the number 3, he just said that usually if nothing has happened by that point, it is in our best interest to pursue a different course of action. Which could be another surgery: laparoscopy to diagnose/remove endometriosis or another hysteroscopy if more polyps are present. The earliest he has seen polyps return after being surgically removed is 10 months. But leave it to my state of the art uterus to set a new record on that... please do not accept that as a challenge, uterus.

Here's hoping that IUI #1 was first the worst and IUI #2 will be second, the best!

bump #31: when do you tell people

I'm still navigating this whole I want a baby NOW and it seems like it's going to happen NEVER thing. I would say "infertility" or "trying to conceive" but I'm sick of those terms. They're blah. And not nearly whiney enough to convey the aggravated tone in my voice.

So my question for today is this: when do you tell people that you are struggling with WaBnow? (wanting a baby now - I like how wabnow sounds as opposed to TTC. It'll catch on, give it time!)

I know the general protocol for announcing a pregnancy is to wait 12 weeks, or until most of the first trimester has passed. But just so you know, I am going to announce it here lickety split. Like still holding the positive pee pee stick in one hand and typing with the other!

So what is the protocol with telling people that you aren't able to get pregnant?
I know the obvious... not at a baby shower or a wedding or any other joyous occasion. But how long do you wait? We have been Wabnow for 2+ years. Do you think everybody already knows?

I'm still not ready to come out of my proverbial unpregnant closet!

So far we have been super private about it. It wasn't until a few months ago that I even shared it with my mom. Funny story: my parent's house is my permanent address since we're pretty mobile right now, and a lot of my mail gets delivered to them. So when a bill for $1200 for an IUI from the fertility center arrived in May my mom immediately called me and was all flipped out because obviously someone had stolen my credit card or something about identity theft. It was then that I knew I had to either get on board with the credit card theft theory or just come clean about the whole thing. I came clean. But fast forward to right now and only a couple of my closest friends are in the know. The support, love, and prayers from those friends has been amazing and I feel silly for not telling them sooner, but I also feel like it's nice to keep it on the down low because I don't want to talk about it all the time. I totally appreciate when my close friends ask how we're doing and check in on us, that's comforting. And I LOVE comments on the blog because that is the best reminder that we're not alone in this. The hesitance to go public with all of it really just stems from having to explain something that I don't understand.

I find it hard to believe that a polyp would be the only cause of our bumpless state, so what we are experiencing is still classified as "unexplained infertility." I can't explain it. It's out of my control. But keeping it contained, confined to this space, and to you, my confidantes, makes it feel a little more managable.

I suppose it's different for everybody, and you tell whoever you want to whenever you feel comfortable. I just feel like a bit of a fraud keeping something I want so badly hidden.  Afterall my entire existence is blasted all over facebook and I don't give that a second thought. Sharing our struggle with infertility just stresses me out. Oy. I don't know where all this anxiety is coming from, afterall I am still giving the old "relax" advice a try this month. Deep breaths.

bump #30: no news is good news

There is no new news to report here.
But I am inclined to disagree with the saying that "no news is good news."

Nope. That's just another moronic mantra that does not apply to infertility. Same as "a stitch in time saves nine" and "a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." Stitches suck and who wants a bird at all? I want a baby!

So, no news is not good news and it makes for a very boring bump on the {b}log.

But that's where we're at. This boring spot where TTC is a real nuisance and we're getting nowhere. But, regardless, I've been diligently tracking my temperature the last few weeks, tinkling on OPK's, (Pretty much everything short of the cervical mucus analysis because that just really freaks me out!), cutting out caffeine and my beloved pina coladas, replacing them with prenatal vitamins that make me gag and healthy smoothies. Blagh. And after all of that, I'm pretty sure I didn't even ovulate last month. So it was all for naught.

It's like my reproductive system is going on strike.
I guess I don't blame it.

And in the midst of all of this stress, everyone {ok just my mom really, oh and Frankie from Frankie Goes to Hollywood} keeps telling me to relax. And I'm sure there's some truth to that. Not like do yoga, breath deeply, meditate, and BAM! - Pregnant! But like quit hating on my uterus (that insists on housing polyps instead of persons) and stop dwelling on the worst case scenarios (like being forced to live on the street after fertility treatments bankrupt us.) Yes, that is in fact a dark place in my mind that pops up every once in a while and I have no comment as to whether or not I have been saving all my cardboard boxes for, you know, just in case!

Being told to relax isn't my favorite thing.
Relaxing feels impossible.

But what the heck, I'll go ahead and give it a try. A relaxed attitude is not a defeatist one. This is not me throwing in the towel. I suppose this is me "going to the beach and laying out on the towel." I choose to look at relaxing as regrouping, recharging, and really re-examining our route.

So September will be the month where I chillax a bit.

{Yeah, right!}

bump #29: remembering to have a sense of humor

My husband posted this on facebook and I actually found it to be quite hilarious given the books that I have on my bookshelf...

Without further adieu...

1. Before Your Pregnancy... with a chainsaw
2. Making Babies... with a chainsaw
3. A Few Good Eggs: 2 Chicks Dish on the Insanity of Infertility... with a chainsaw.
4. Pregnancy for Dummies... with a chainsaw

{Just to prove not EVERYTHING I read is about infertility and babies here's a few more}

5. The Fat Flush Plan... with a chainsaw
6. The Great Divorce... with a chainsaw
7. In the Dressing Room with Brenda... with a chainsaw
8. Training Your Dog... with a chainsaw

And this one for the win...

Taking Charge of Your Fertility with a chainsaw.

Epic.

Let it be known that infertility has robbed me of many things, but my sense of humor is firmly intact!

bump #28: however He chooses

In my last post {you know the one where I was high on latex paint} I mentioned something about God leading us to our family "however He chooses to do so." Emphasis on He chooses, not we choose.  This is something that has been on my heart the last few months after one of my best friends, upon discovering our issues with infertility, asked how we felt about adoption, surrogacy, or IVF.  And my obnoxious response was equal parts selfish and ignorant when I replied "none of those are our first choice."  Ha! Can we have a moment of silence for the "no duh" moment I created just then. My best friend (who Lord knows is a true friend, because she still speaks to me after such a brainless response!) offered the most encouraging words of wisdom and spot on advice that can only come from a woman after God's own heart, who has experienced first hand what it feels like to be in this place where you so desperately want a family of your own, but you just can't see how it is going to come about. In her case, it was through the beautiful act of adoption.

I am admittedly no expert on any of these subjects (adoption, IVF, surrogacy, etc.) and, until recently, honestly never considered them as options for us. Please, please don't misinterpret me or the place in my heart where these thoughts are coming from. For 28 years I had my head up my bum never truly understood the way that infertility robs you of peace, joy, and freedom in what should be the happiest, most fulfilling time in your life. It leaves you stressed, bummed, and forced to make tough decisions you may or may not be prepared to make. I recklessly assumed that I would pull out my calendar, pick a nice due date month, quit taking birth control, and get bumped up just as conveniently as I wanted to. I know how ridiculous that sounds now, but for some people it really is that easy. Well it seems like it anyway.

But for the rest of us who don't live in fertile fantasy land, there are some challenging questions you have to be prepared to answer. Some difficult scenarios you have to be aware of.

What if the oh-so-desired pregnancy just is not going to happen naturally?

What if it takes years and years of fertility treatments and procedures before you get pregnant?

What if even after said medical intervention there is no family in sight?

What then?

You entertain other options or you give up, of course all the while praying that God would lead you to make the best choice. And there is no one-size-fits-all here, everyone's decision is different and that is ok. We have not decided what happens next, but today, right now, these are a few of our options and how we feel about them. (I know there are a lot more options than these, but they were the three that my friend mentioned, and the same three that our doctor brought up at our first appointment when he said "you will have the family you always wanted, it just might happen differently than you imagined.")

I am going to start with adoption because, of the three, I am the most familiar with it. We are all adopted into God's family and adoption is very clearly at the core of our Father's heart. That is how I first learned about adoption... in Sunday School. I always thought of adoption as something God calls people to do. The Bible says to care for the widows and orphans, and adoption is one beautiful way to do that.  5 of my cousins are adopted, 3 close friends are in the middle of an international adoption, and 2 of my best friends have adopted children. Praise God that if/when we adopt there is such a loving and supportive group of friends and family surrounding and encouraging us through their own example. I also chose to share my thoughts on adoption first because the choice to adopt is very common, and not exclusively for infertile myrtles such as myself. I actually find it interesting that not all of these children were adopted because of an inability to conceive a child naturally. Some people simply have a strong desire in their heart to adopt, regardless of whether or not they have genetic offspring. It is not their back-up choice if getting pregnant isn't in the cards, it is their first choice for starting or completing their family.

So where does that leave me? 
Curled up in the corner feeling like a complete dum dum for saying "it is not my first choice."

In a moment of complete honesty I am going to tell you why I said that.

Because adoption scares me.

Let me rephrase that, I am scared of what happens when an adoption falls through.
(the birth-mom changes her mind and decides to keep the child or place them in another family or any other combination of heart-breaking events.) I realize how uninformed that sounds as the sole basis for not adopting right now, but half of the adoption stories I know end in that way. God always, always turns it around for good, for His glory and I have an unspeakable amount of admiration and respect for all of the families I know that have been through this. {tears just thinking about it} Adoption is not for the weak-hearted and in this present moment, I feel weak and weary-hearted.  My heart is still healing from learning that I might never be able to be pregnant, to feel a baby kick in my belly, to know the all consuming pain of childbirth {ok, so I would gladly take a free pass on that one!} I don't feel like I am at that place where I can devote my whole heart to the adoption process.

Am I happy with myself or with that answer? No.
I wish that I could embrace adoption with arms wide open, without hesitation or fear that it won't work out. But I'm not at that place yet.

Another reason for the reluctance is that it would be years before we could financially afford to adopt. Grad school is a means to an end, but it seems like it will never end!
Money is not the only constraint, but presently, it is a big one.

So maybe we won't adopt now, but in a few years we may. I will never close that door.

Adoption is how God chose us to be part of his family. I love that!

We are open to adoption, and will continue prayerfully considering it.

And if adoption is His choice for us, I know that He will do a work in our hearts to prepare us for all that it entails and we will follow Him to our adopted family.

I am going to skirt around the surrogacy option because we would need win the lottery {a couple times!} before that could be a viable possibility :)  But in all seriousness, surrogacy is truly remarkable and a great option for some, especially my bff Giuliana Rancic, who welcomed a baby boy last week via gestational surrogate. Congrats girl!

Giuliana Rancic becomes a mom via a surrogate

Of the three options here, IVF is probably the most likely next step we would take if our current plan of trying naturally and/or re-trying IUI is not successful.  Unfortunately it is not covered by our insurance, so it is not really feasible right now.

All that to say I never thought we would find ourselves here, in this infertile land. But here we are and no matter what, God has put the overwhelming desire in our hearts to be parents, so he will fulfill that promise however he chooses.

bump #27: the cure

First off, "the cure" is in no way a reference to Robert Smith and that fabulous 80's band of his. {random trivia: my favorite song of all time is "just like heaven" by the cure} And to all my fellow baby bump seekers, I apologize if you were mislead... I have not found the cure to our present situation, you know, beyond triple-scoop ice cream cones and sephora.com.

The cure that I am speaking of has to do with this:
 

And now I get to wait around for a few days to put my house back together until the paint "cures."
Because after all my reading (ok, so I merely scanned the back label of the can of paint) I learned that

"The paint will not achieve its full strength until it is completely cured...

which is the point at which the paint is as tough and durable as it will get."

This may be the paint fume inhalation talking, but I learned a few things from my painting adventure.

1. I will not be pursuing a career in painting. {Earth-shattering revelation}

This one was easy to come to terms with, mostly because I can't rock the over-alls

that painters are required to wear. No biggie.

2. It takes a really flipping long time for paint to dry

and now I have to wait for it to cure too?!

This is not good for my impatience condition!

which leads to the third lesson

3. I am not finished yet.  2 whole days of painting and it still isn't over.

In real life: I am not finished yet. 2 whole years of trying to start a family

and it still hasn't happened.

The paint has not cured yet and neither have I.

Yes, the paint toxins definitely went straight to my brain, but I think there's a point here somewhere.

This furniture painting project did not turn out like I planned. It took way longer, was super messy, and turned my house upside-down. It is going to be a process to get to the "cured stage."

But once I have my shabby chic, fresh and clean living room these few days of waiting for the paint to dry will have been worth it. 

This family planning project has not turned out like I planned with all of the same aforementioned painting hassles and then some, but it is a process and I am not cured yet. Even if/when God leads us to our family (however He chooses to do so) His work curing me will never be done.

But, in all of this, I am so grateful that I am merely the canvas and He is the artist because my skills with a paintbrush are severely lacking!  

Perhaps I need a cure for turning the everyday mundane experience

into a metaphorical rant on infertility!

bump #26: back to the drawing board

Back to BBT (Basal Body Temperature Charting)

Back to the 6 AM alarm clock reminding me to take my temperature every morning and ever so neatly circle it and connect the dots each day looking for some kind of pattern that proves my body is doing what it is supposed to.

Can I be candid with you and just say that I don't think the dots are lining up right? Not just on that chart (because it's day 4 of my cycle and I've only taken my temp once!) but in my life. Connecting the dots is supposed to be easy.

Dot #1: get pregnant  Dot #2: have a baby  Dot #3: be happy. 

Ok so there are a few "dots" missing in the equation, namely Dot #4: dress said baby up in cute clothes and take a million photos, but you get the idea. I'm beginning to think that my coloring book is crapped out and there aren't even any dots to connect in it. I know it takes time, and at first it's just a mess, but once all the dots are connected it makes a beautiful picture. The problem is that all I see is a blank page.


So for now my temperature chart looks like this:

{blank}

dot. dot. dot.

bump #25: cautiously optimistic

That is how I would describe our outlook after our post-op visit with the doctor on Friday, cautiously optimistic.

We are cautious because this is not our first bump in the road on infertility boulevard. It is the 25th bump. It is also nearing the 25th month that we have been hoping and praying for a baby. Ouch. For all I know there could be 25 more bumps just around the corner. And it is for that very reason that I just upped my credit limit enabling me to self medicate with retail therapy as needed.

Kidding. Kind of.

We are optimistic because it appears that all of the known obstacles (namely that pesky polyp) are out of the way. And it only took like 5 incredibly painful, expensive, and invasive procedures! That sounds sassy, but believe me, I know that it could have been way worse, so I am actually seriously grateful that fingers crossed the worst is over. At least, at this point, we have done everything we possibly can on our end to overcome infertility. So yes, we are optimistic.

But optimistic doesn't necesarilly mean happy. It means we're trying to see the good in all of this. Trying to see God in all of this. It hasn't been easy. Optimistic does not mean that we are all smiles and sunshine. And I'm learning that that's ok.

Don't read too much into that, I am still a happy, bubbly bren. This has just been a very challenging season in our lives and God is showing me that he loves me and carries me through the good times and the tough times and I don't have to pretend like everything is great all the time. It's character building :)   

It actually felt strange to leave the fertility center and not have to schedule another procedure, or make an appointment for an exploratory ultrasound, or fill a prescription. It was a relief, but it was also rather anti-climactic being done there. I wasn't expecting a diploma or some kind of congratulatory ceremony. But in hindsight a little gold medal or something would have been nice. I mean, it is the olympics afterall.  No, on the surface it was just a doctor's office, but inside it felt more like I was leaving a war zone. Battle-scarred, broken, tired, and just over it.

I feel like after all we have done, we are still back at bump #1.
In my head I know that's not true. But my heart needs some convincing.

In fact, I have some pretty disgusting photos from the hysteroscopy last month that prove bump #1 is a thing of the past.

(Sorry for the gross factor, but my life mantra is "pics or it didn't happen", so here are a few pics.)

If you think of it like a blimp, it's not quite as icky.

The doctor explained all of this to me... something about how he removed the polyp and scraped out the potential polyps.
I don't remember what else he said, I just remember thinking, who knew I was growing coral in my uterus?

So here we are.

We don't know what happens next.

We are ok with that. We are working on being ok with that.

bump #24: be still

Sorry for the hiatus! Let’s catch up, shall we?

I am still alive.
I am still not pregnant.

　

“Be still and know that I am God.”

　
Still doesn’t sound like a great place to be, it sounds counter-productive and lazy (spoken from a true obsessive-compulsive, multi-tasking busy-body). I don’t have the patience or desire to just chill and be still. And yet I hear God clearly telling me to be still right now.


The conversation goes something like this:

Me: God, what in the world is wrong with me? Why can’t I have a baby?
God: Be still and know that I am God
Me: Ok, but what about the six girls on my newsfeed that had perfect, precious babies last week? They are the same age I was when I started trying to get pregnant. What’s up with that?
God: Be still and know that I am God.
Me: Um yeah, you said that already. Duly noted.  Thinks ’yeah, I’ll have plenty of time to be still once I have a nice big baby bump and am restricted to bed rest.’ 
God: {face palm} - at least that’s what I imagine his response to be :)

　
The conversation doesn’t always end there, but His response is always the same. It’s kind of infuriating. Until I realize that He keeps telling me the same thing not because he is a recorder on playback, but because I am simply not getting it. His words go right over my head (FYI: I am 4’11” so most things do go right over my head!) Perhaps He is a little infuriated with my response as well. Ugh. I keep missing the point. Can anyone relate? I so want to please my heavenly Father and live a life that reflects his truth, but my tiny brain just can’t fathom how He loves me so much when I miss the mark so bad.

I’ve tried to be still. I even tried yoga once. It was a disaster of epic proportions. My downward dog looked like disco duck. Don’t ask! I don’t think He understands just how hard it is for me to be still. There are way too many things for me to be busy worrying about. I guess that’s why he doesn’t stop there. He goes on to say AND know that I am God. Apparently these concepts go hand in hand. It has always been easier for me to know that He is God. Of course I don’t acknowledge it when I act like I am, but deep down I know. He is good at reminding me.

Here is an example:

I am terrified of the ocean. (Luckily cruise ships combat that fear!)
It all started when I was 4 years old and walking at Shell Beach collecting shells. Imagine that! (I feel it important to say that this was the only time I ever went to the beach without my mom, and of course, the only time I almost drowned.) I ventured out into the water and it was only up to my knees so I took a couple more steps. Unbeknownst to me, the sandbar I was walking on dropped off suddenly and the water was immediately over my head. I panicked. I had taken swimming lessons, but the elementary backstroke of “monkey, airplane, soldier” wasn’t going to save me from that current. I dropped my handful of seashells and my arms were flailing, I was not a svelte tot and was sinking fast. I reached up as high as I could and still was underwater. My eyes stung from the saltwater so I closed them tightly and just as I did, I felt something hit my feet. It was flat and soft and it lifted me back to where I could stand. It could have been an angel or a stingray or a wad of seaweed, but whatever it was, God used it to rescue me. When my arms were flailing and I was sinking down, down, down, he was already there to pull me out.


God wants to rescue us.

All he asks is that we be still so that He can. 

Bottom line: We cannot rescue ourselves. We need to get out of our own way so that He can.

Right now I am drowning in a sea of infertility.

It sucks.

He knows. He is already here to pull me out.

But sometimes I am not still; sometimes I worry that He has let go of me for a minute, you know to see if I can swim. 

I can't.
So I panic.   

And then I turn on the radio and this is what I hear:

Oh no, you never let go
Through the calm and through the storm.
Oh no, you never let go
Every high and every low.
Oh no, you never let go
Lord, you never let go of me…

I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on.
There will be an end to these troubles, but until that day comes,
Still I will praise you
Still I will praise you.

image via

　

bump #23: recovering and moving on

*** We are celebrating our 5 year anniversary this weekend... check out pics here ***

Ok, so day 2 after hysteroscopy was harder. The bleeding mostly stopped, but the cramps got worse. It will be two weeks before the doctor calls with results from the biopsy but most polyps are benign so we aren't too worried. I have been recovering on the couch with a delicious box of chocolates courtesy of MIL and had a lot of snuggle time with my sweet puppy (she's 2 and a half, but tiny so she'll always be my pup!) She is coincidentally in heat right now, so we are sort of commiserating together...

Chocolate makes everything better, (or vanilla for maddie bear)

I am only slightly embarassed to admit that it took me 2 days to realize that I still had those surgery snap things stuck on me. I'm still not exactly sure what they were for, but when I went to get in the shower and noticed them I thought "oh my gosh, I've turned into a robot... cool."

So I expect to be fully recovered by tomorrow (our 5 year anniversary!) and then on Monday we make the 2 day drive to California/Alaska to visit our families for about a month. (Yes, we are always on vacation :) Perfect timing because that gives me just enough time to finish this month's pack of birth control pills and hopefully get back on a normal cycle schedule so that we can start trying to conceive naturally in 6 to 8 weeks (doctor recommends to wait at least a month to let my system heal). That puts us at August-September. We might consider IUI again in October or November. Maybe. No surprise that I'm not eager to inflict anymore pain on my body!

Here's the deal:

As fun as getting all of these procedures done has been (gag) and the overwhelming excitement followed by underwhelming disappointment of a failed IUI, we are going to take a little time off from the infertility center and doctors and try to make a baby au naturale for a while.  Assuming those polyps were the main cause of our inability to get pregnant (apparently the big one "papa polyp" was really big and in the worst spot possible for embryo implantation),

Hopefully the worst is over.
Hopefully bump #24 (or even 25 or 26, I'm willing to be flexible) is finally the real baby bump. Hopefully there will be no more surgeries and no more things other than babies taking up space in my uterus.

Yes we are hopeful, but we are also realistic.

Realistically there could be a whole other plethora of problems preventing pregnancy. The more books I read the more I am convinced that I have a whole laundry list of ailments. So we will continue praying for wisdom and what steps to take next, we will trust that God knows better than we do and is already taking care of everything, I will stop reading books that freak me out (or at least skip over some parts), and we will enjoy an entire month of being surrounded by family and friends that love and support us (and some of the littler ones even help curb our desire to be parents one stinky diaper and tantrum at a time, bless their hearts!)

It's the middle of the year and thus far 2012 has been mostly a let-down. I like to dwell on the positives, but this year has been tough for that. In the whole analogy of "cup half full or half empty" I gotta say irrelevant: my cup is shattered into a million pieces right now and the water is spilled all over the floor. But the year is only half over and still has a chance at redeeming itself. Hopefully 2012 will be the year that started out awful and turned awesome.

Hopefully.

bump #22: hysteroscopy

Two times in my life I've been put under with anesthesia. Once when I was 17 and getting my wisdom teeth pulled and once this morning prior to undergoing a hysteroscopic polypectomy (outpatient surgery to remove uterine polyps). Suffice it to say I am currently extremely groggy and, thankfully, adequately drugged.

I am just so glad it's over!

These are the only pictures I took:

The actual surgery only took about 30 minutes, but we left our house at 9 this morning and did not get home until after 4. We had to go to our doctor's office first to sign papers and pay fees and then we had to go to the hospital where the procedure was performed and get prepped, sign more documents, and pay more fees. Ugh. It is what it is. At least our mission was accomplished!  I am happy to report that big fat polyp is gone and so are a couple little baby polyps that were trying to form.  Bet they didn't see this coming!

For about a millisecond I considered posting a couple pre and post procedure shots (obviously I did not take any photos during) but a couple days before my appointment I did some research that convinced me that "Hysteroscopy: the facebook album" might not be as widely appreciated as one might think. (surprise, surprise).  The research I conducted was not exactly textbook.

Ok, it was Youtube research.  Desperate times call for desperate measures.

I've seen a lot of grotey-gro-gross stuff but the videos on the internet pertaining to this minor little procedure were something straight out of a horror film. Something to the effect of "When vaginas attack get attacked." TMI doesn't begin to describe it.

Needless to say I did not actually manage to sit through any one whole video in it's entirety.
But there were a couple honorable mentions I'll leave you with in my drug-addled state:

This video started off great, with a little pun about being in the land down under. I appreciated the humor until about 20 seconds in when the fun 80's music stopped and talk of "di-luh-tation of the cervical caw-vity" commenced.  Yeah, you lost me there Aussie.

And I'm sure that This video was particularly informative, but I was too distracted by the narrator lady saying uterus every 5 seconds (seriously 26 times in 3 minutes, I counted).

I'm going to be honest with you, there are many better ways to spend your Thursday afternoon.

Like cleaning sink drains or bleaching toilets.
Getting a colonoscopy or... wait that just might be worse than what I had to endure today.
Thank God for butt procedures, the only thing worse than lady part procedures.

This bumpy, infertility plagued road has taught me time and time again the value of perspective.

It could always be worse. 

One of the books I've been reading says "don't worry, none of the procedures you have to go through for infertility treatment even compare to the pain of childbirth." Really, you don't say?!

Somehow that doesn't offer me much solace!

bump #21: compartmentalizing

A big word to describe a little of how I feel.

So much of life lately feels compartmentalized. Like I can just tuck tidbits away and only share what I want to with who I want to. It's rather deceptive, making it seem like I have a handle on things. I'm pretty sure I don't have a split personality or schizophrenia, I'm just a selective sharer. Not that I'm not a blabbermouth who over-shares all the time, but it seems like I've had a lot to process in the last few months and rather than lay it all out on the table, I've put it into little compartments to deal with later.

It's later.

And I still don't want to deal with it.

Just so we're on the same page, my "it" is the unattainable baby bump and the weight of equal parts worry and sadness that keep seeping out even though I've crammed them way in the back of the "dangit, I'm still not pregnant" dresser drawer. note to self: I need a better storage solution!

For others it is something else entirely, and of even greater importance than my inability to conceive.
Just so we're still on the same page, my whole life isn't about infertility, only this blog is :)

But whatever it is, hiding it away until a better, later time to deal with it is not the solution.

That is no more effective than putting a leash on a grizzly bear and anticipating a leisurely stroll.

*going to Alaska in a couple weeks, so I've got grizzlies on the brain!*

At this point, I'm just realizing that I need a new coping mechanism.

Symphony bars and spirits might be a suitable replacement (which coincidentally leads me to my vote of If you aren't offering chocolate or margaritas, then shut the hell up as a great title for Erika and Amanda's next book)

bump # 20: this break won't end

Taking a break from infertility sounded good in theory. 

Too good.

As if you could simply push something so pervasive from your mind voluntarily.

But come on, we all know that taking said break was really code for "Fertility Center of San Antonio is overbooked this month, so bren's bum uterus is on the backburner."

I hate the back burner. It's where yucky stuff like okra goes. Gross.

Knowing that there is no way (nothing short of a miracle) that we can attain pregnancy before undergoing hysteroscopy (getting that okra-like polyp out of my uterus), and of course no guarantee even after that, I am SO OVER THIS BREAK!!!

Can we just call it what it is... a whopping waste of time.

Everything is getting pushed so far back.  I keep losing months.  Even after that surgery I have to complete a round of birth control while everything heals. Another month gone.

My reproductive system is synonymous with birth control.

Listen up reproductive system - your break is almost over and when it is, you better kick it into high gear to make up for all this lost time!