11 Weeks

I can't believe I'm already 11 weeks along. I still can't really shake the feeling that something will go terribly wrong at any moment. No one knows at work. No one knows back home, except for my sister and B's brother. It's so hard not to share it. But then I remember how worried I am, and it makes me more resolved to keep it to ourselves until we have a better idea about the health of our babies.

We're visiting home in March. I will be around 14 weeks and that's when we'll share the news, if everything looks good at that point. We have this plan to do a big reveal at the airport. When we were little we would ALWAYS make signs or dress up and go to the airport to greet family coming to visit. One of my favorite examples of this was when my aunt was visiting for Christmas so we dressed my sister up like a Christmas tree and made a big, sparkly sign, and met her at the gate (back when you could still meet people at the gate). Like most airports, the one back home has a big dramatic escalator you ride down to greet your awaiting family. The plan is to make big signs, wait for all the people from our flight to go down, and then go down the escalator one after the other. B first, with a sign that says "We're Pregnant!" and then me, a few seconds later, with a sign that says, "with TWINS!" My sister will take a video of us coming down with her iPhone, and B will take a video from his phone of our family's reaction. At first we were planning on having my sister convince just my mom and dad to come get us, but then we started thinking maybe we should invite B's family too. They'll know something's up if EVERYONE is there. But maybe they'll think it's because of the deployment or something? We'll try and keep it casual.. "Hey, we'd love to see you as soon as we get in, would you maybe want to meet up at the airport and go for a quick bite to eat after we get in?"

I dunno, maybe none of it will work out. At least we'd have everyone there.. and that's the best part of the plan anyway. It's all pretty exciting.

We have our next ultrasound this Thursday! I'm excited to see how these little blobs have grown. I have been getting cramps, having lower back pain, and feeling sort of dizzy and light headed. Of course, Dr. Google has lead me to believe that these are all signs of an impending miscarriage, which is why I moved up the ultrasound three weeks. I just have to know. I can't imagine the thought of carrying around dead babies waiting to miscarry, waiting three more weeks to find out they're gone. It's pretty morbid, but that's sort of how my mind works. I just want to let myself get excited about this pregnancy. I want to be 12 weeks and see healthy babies. I know that that wont necessarily mean that I get two healthy babies in September, but it will make me feel much, much more secure. 

8 weeks 5 days

After a mess of referrals and phone calls and confusion and frustration, I actually made it into the OB a week after my last ultrasound... you know, the one where we found out we were pregnant with TWINS.

I had to drive to the base and take a urine test before they would even put in a referral for me... I was told they needed a positive test at their facility before even beginning to process a referral to an OB for an ultrasound, even though I already knew I was having twins which carries a higher risk, and was warned by my RE that they could be the very dangerous "mono-mono twins," and even though PCOS already makes me a high risk pregnancy, there was no rush to get me in to see a Dr.

When I arrived at the hospital and spoke with a receptionist about getting an order in for a urine pregnancy test she seemed confused.. "when was the first day of your last menstrual cycle" (Nov. 30) "and have you taken a pregnancy test" (yes) "how many?" (I've taken four at home test, gotten blood work done 4 times, and had two ultrasounds) "oh, then why do you need me to put in a request for a urine test?" (That's a really good question.)

So anyway, after a bunch of that bs, I got in to see a midwife a week later (pretty good turnaround.. but it did take a lot of calls and transfers to higher ups). We saw two growing, moving, little blobs with strong heartbeats (of course we got the one ultrasound machine that they "can't figure out how to get the sound to work on" so we couldn't actually hear the heartbeats, but we saw them on the screen). And after a little more bs at the appointment desk, I got scheduled for a "new pregnancy orientation" this Friday as a walk in and after all the testing they require (more blood, probably) I have another appointment with an actual doctor! (I know, pregnancy orientation? WTF, right? There's like a million pregnant military wives on base at any given moment so I guess it makes sense to wrangle them all up and make sure they're not too incompetent to carry a baby to term). I hope that it will be of value to me and isn't just a remedial high school health class where they tell you not to eat sushi and shit.

B actually told his brother about the pregnancy yesterday. I'm really glad he did because we aren't telling anyone, except for my sister who was visiting when we found out, and I feel like he needed to talk about it with someone besides me. His brother was really supportive and excited, but he also asked why we would be trying if we knew he was deploying for six months. Two days ago his sister, who actually knows a little about our infertility struggles, but nothing of the pregnancy, told him, "well, just make sure you don't try now, you wouldn't want to miss a pregnancy, that would just be too hard." I feel like that will be the general consensus when we share our news.. why would you want to have a baby when your husband is deploying? I guess the short answer, and the one most likely to be shared by B, is that there is always going to be a deployment looming. We aren't going to put our lives on hold just because it might happen.

The more honest answer is that we've been trying now for 19 months to get pregnant. We've done 9 rounds of fertility drugs. We didn't know if we would ever get pregnant, and we were just starting to make some progress with our RE, so we weren't going to stop now, especially when the deployment wasn't "for sure" until very recently. So we decided that we might as well keep trying, hoping, if nothing else, to learn more about what it would take to get me to ovulate so that when he got back, maybe we'd be able to say "we were doing this and this and this and it was getting us somewhere, lets please start where we left off." I honestly didn't think it would happen for us before he left. But now that it has, we're just really happy. It will be hard, undoubtedly, but it's nothing we can't handle. We're just so blessed to be pregnant, and we've overcome so many hardships to get to this point, I know we will be okay.

I feel like sharing our infertility struggles makes it more understandable why we'd keep trying up until he left, but then on the flip side, sharing our infertility struggles brings up a whole different set of judgements about infertility drugs and multiples. I'm torn. I guess either way people will form their own judgements, and I can try to validate our decisions or I can let people think what they will. There is a 7% chance of twins on clomid. We accepted those odds. I didn't ovulate for over a year, even with low doses of clomid, so increasing it was really our only option if we wanted to get pregnant. I still don't know if my clomid use had anything to do with our twin pregnancy, but I do know that I don't want people judging my unborn children as some sort of medical side effect.

7 weeks 4 days

We had a second ultrasound today. The doctor wanted to make sure the little one was growing properly after the dating of last week's ultrasound didn't put me as far along as we'd previously thought. We were so excited and nervous. I really just wanted to see the heartbeat. I kept feeling like, either our hopes will be completely dashed, or we will get to see a heartbeat and we will be ecstatic. I know seeing a heartbeat at 8 weeks is no guarantee of a healthy baby in seven months, but it does bring the statistic down for miscarriage.

We were seen right away and I didn't have to give blood. We were off to a good start.

After the doctor started looking around my uterus, she told us, totally nonchalantly, that the "first baby" was measuring right where they'd hoped, and the "second baby" seemed to be measuring right around the same. "Looks like identical twins," she said.

I was shocked. I just kept thinking WHAT. THE. FUCK?! I looked over at B and he seemed to be having the exact same thought. Is she serious? It had honestly not even crossed our mind to prepare for the possibility of multiples, even with the increased risk with taking Clomid, and knowing that twins run on both sides of B's family. Even after processing this information all day I am still sort of in shock. I am carrying twins. I didn't know if I would ever become pregnant, and now I was contemplating the idea of having TWO babies. We could be done building our family! I could never have to endure another fertility treatment! It's all very exciting. But with the news of twins comes a whole slew of new fears that we hadn't even thought to consider a day ago.

PCOS pregnancies are already high risk, but being pregnant with multiples carries additional risks all it's own. Also, the doctor was worried that they might be in the same sac, which we later obsessively researched and learned occurs in only 1% of multiple pregnancies and gives a 50-60% survival rate. The main danger with embryos in the same sac, called "mo-mo twins," is that having them in such close proximity might cause the umbilical cords to get wrapped or blocked. The doctor said she was referring us to an OBGYN and that we should try to be seen by a high risk one as soon as possible. She said it was possible that her ultrasound machine was not powerful enough to see the membrane separating the embryos. She called it "vintage" and said it was from the 70s. (Thanks TRICARE, I'm so glad you could send me to the CHEAPEST, MOST POORLY EQUIPPED, infertility clinic in the state of Virginia). At this point, that's what we're hoping and praying for. We've read that it's pretty common for it to be misdiagnosed early on in pregnancy. We're hoping we can catch this break.

I also learned that if they are indeed identical, which the doctor seemed pretty sure of, they will be the same sex. So my brief excitement about the thought of a boy and a girl went away pretty quickly. Part of me is scarred of having two boys (the other part of me is like, you idiot, you will be lucky two have two alive babies at the end of this, how could you worry, for even a second, that they might not be girls?). I think it's because I grew up with just one sister. I was never into sports or anything. I guess I'm worried that I might not be able to connect as well with a little boy. (Expect more on this later).

In other, "i have ridiculous, frivolous fears that someone who is so blessed should not even be thinking about"news, I worry that people will attribute the fertility treatment with us having twins and think negatively about it. I guess after the whole "john and kate" and "octomom" craziness, I'm just worried that people will judge me for being some crazy baby obsessed woman who went to extremes. But the fact that they are identical means that this was NOT caused by clomid. Clomid causes multiples when more that one egg releases, which can result in fraternal twins. It doesn't matter. I know it doesn't matter. Even if the twins were a result of fertility drugs, it wouldn't matter. (Probably more on this later too.)

Okay, so NOW 6ish weeks

I had my first ultrasound! There's definitely a little glob growing in my uterus! I know now that its not a tubal pregnancy, which is a relief. What I am worried about is that I'm measuring at 6wks4days, but the prior to the appointment, the nurse had figured I was almost 8 weeks. So either my ovulation dates were wrong, which threw off all the dates after that, or my little bean stopped growing a week ago. Even though the nurse was able to see a flicker of a heart beat, which she assured me would not be happening if the baby had stopped growing, it still sort of terrified me to see that I wasn't as far along as I'd been obsessively calculating for the last month. The nurse got out a calendar and cross checked the dates with my various blood draws... estrogen levels, betas, all that, and told me that I probably ovulated later than the date I'd initially been given. She said that that the blood work I'd had done to confirm pregnancy showed levels consistent with several days prior to a missed period, not a day after my missed period as I'd been figuring. I hope I'm worrying for nothing.

My blood results showed a beta of, like, 90,000 something (I got the results by phone, very quickly, and without being able to write them down) and progesterone of 29, which is up from the last reading and is apparently excellent. My beta seems more like 7ish weeks, but the ultrasound is off +-4days so I could be more like seven weeks. I have another appointment for an ultrasound next Wednesday. I'm hoping the growth from yesterday to then is enough to put me a little more at ease.

I feel sort of cheated out of that happy excited feeling most expectant parents get to have. I feel like unless someone has struggled with infertility, or suffered a miscarriage, they don't really grasp how much could go wrong. This is why so many young first and second time parents post pictures of positive pregnancy tests on facebook right away. They are so blissfully unaware that something like 20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage. I haven't told anyone aside from my husband and sister. I feel like I'm going to jinx myself if I tell anyone before 12 weeks. I'm trying to let go a little. My body is doing everything it can to keep this little blastocyst growing. Nothing good will come of worry, so I'm trying to think positively and focus on the aspects of this pregnancy that I do have control over... like eating well, drinking water, doing yoga.

6ish weeks

I'm in a precarious situation. I am ecstatic to actually be pregnant. I still sort of can't believe it. At the same time, I am trying to manage my expectations. 

My numbers are goodish:   

beta-86 (1/3), 1490 (1/9)

progesterone-43.2, 29.5

But I'm still really nervous about a tubal pregnancy. I have been having sharp pains in my abdomen, but they really haven't been in one particular spot, so its probably fine. My nurse told me that if my beta was above 1000 after my 1/9 blood draw that I could come in for an ultrasound, but then when she called with my results, she made my appointment for almost two weeks out. Her reasoning is that I will likely be 8 weeks by then and if all goes well, they will refer me to an OBGYN after the appointment. But I feel like, that's all good and well, but what if everything does not look okay? What if its a tubal pregnancy and they could've spotted it a week and a half earlier? Maybe waiting a little longer will mean a strong heartbeat, then I suppose it will have been worth it. If I had an ultrasound at six or seven weeks, maybe there wouldn't be a heartbeat, and that would probably stress me out even more.

Even as I type this, I sort of can't believe it. Is this really happening? Am I actually 6 weeks pregnant? Do I seriously have a little blastocyst growing away somewhere in my (hopefully) uterus? This can't actually work out in our favor, can it? We've faced so many painful obstacles, why wouldn't we have to endure a miscarriage too? But in the same sense, we've dealt with so many obstacles, maybe we're due some good news. Maybe this will be our "take home" baby. Maybe this will be one of those pregnancies I read about that is all worry in the beginning, continued worrying throughout, and then results in a perfectly healthy baby. Maybe, like so many of my PCOS "cysters" this will be the first in a string of devastating miscarriages. 

Sometimes I wish I was as blissfully ignorant as the women who get a positive pregnancy test and start buying onesies and making facebook announcements. I wish I could just enjoy my first trimester without the constant fear that something is about to go terribly wrong at any moment. I can't even imagine how devastating a miscarriage would be, and I hope I never have to find out. I take some comfort in the fact that my progesterone is good, I'm extremely healthy as far as diet and exercise, and I'm very young, these are all things working in my favor. It also brings me some comfort to know that if I do miscarry at this point, it is most likely because the pregnancy would not have lead to a healthy baby.

Adorably, B has taken to calling the blastocyst a "polka-dot." Like, "I'll get the door for you and the polkadot" or "Are you and the polkadot feeling tired? Can I make you and the polkadot some tea?" He's being a real champ with all of this. He is just as scarred as I am that something might go wrong, but he's also so unbelievably excited. He's cried several times out of amazement that, for now at least, this is really happening for us. In a totally cliche turn of events, we found out recently that he's more than likely going to deploy to Afghanistan in a couple of months, on a six month deployment... or, if everything works out with this pregnancy, just long enough to miss the birth and the first month of our baby's life. More on that later, I don't really want to think about it right now I just want to pin more cute nursery pictures to my "secret" pinterest board.

The New Year

I just dropped my sister off at the airport after a nice long visit. I was sad to see her go, but the goodbye was much easier than it has been in the past because we're planning a march visit.

That's my excuse for the lack of posting. Anyway, here's what you missed:

I went to the rescheduled monday appointment. I was told I could not have the HSG test for another two months because "you have to try for 3 months on the same dose of clomid before I give the test"... Why? I'm not sure and as per ush it was not explained to me. I had one follicle that was a good size, but she said something about maybe it being left over from last cycle and it being, dead, or something. I can't remember, but I got the impression she did not think I was getting pregnant this try. She made me feel stupid for asking if I'd be prescribed more clomid if I didn't end up ovulating, which she has explained to me, and done for me, before, but she instead went on and on about how clomid was for ovulation induction as if I was a total idiot. To be honest, I can't remember a lot of what was said at that appointment. I know I left just as resolved as ever to try and get a referral somewhere else next month.

Tuesday the nurse I like called me and said "you will ovulate wednesday or thursday, so have sex blah blah blah. Christmas Eve morning you'll have to go for a blood draw, but you can go to a place that's 15 minutes away as opposed to 1 hr 15min away (yay!). Then, Dec. 28 you'll come in for a endometrial biopsy.. some women experience pain, take some Ibuprofen.

I had the blood draw. I did ovulate! I get to the appointment on the 28th and they say, oh, we tried to get ahold of you (they called me once) but your voicemail was full. They want to reschedule your biopsy because they'd done the math wrong and it was probably a bit early for the test. I asked if I didn't have an alternative phone number they could've tried me at... and why no one answered when I returned the call. I also told them I'd driven over an hour to be there this morning. The bitchy receptionist said "oookaaaaay" and then went a talked with the nurse practitioner, who I guess decided it was okay, because she ended up doing the procedure. It was one of the worst pains I'd ever felt in my life. The nurse equated it to a labor pain or getting kicked in the balls. It was awful. Ugh. I get queasy just thinking about it. The nurse told me, yes, I could still get pregnant this month and to call friday of next week or as soon as I started my period.

So I waited until thursday, when I figured my period should have started. Late periods, or totally absent periods were not abnormal for me, so I didn't think much of the fact that it hadn't started, plus it was not certain what day I even ovulated. I felt very crampy and bloated, so I figured I'd start my period any moment. I kept having pains in my abdomen, which I figured may have been residual from my biopsy, but I took a pregnancy test anyway. I hate to waste them because the only ones I had left were I EPT expensive ones, but I wanted to know... also, I wanted to make sure I was good to keep drinking  martinis. I peed on that stick, as I had done so many times, fully expecting a "not pregnant."

But it said "Pregnant." I was in shock. I had always thought about how I would share the news with my husband... maybe making a meal with all "baby" foods (baby corn, baby carrots, etc. ala Full House when Becky tells Jesse) or something of the like, but that all went out the window the second I saw the word "pregnant" on that little screen. I immediately called my husband and just told him, straight up, I took a pregnancy test this morning, it says I'm pregnant. "Are you sure?" he asked. I told him I was going in for blood work now, so we'd know for sure in a couple of days, but yes, I was pretty sure.

I zombie walked the test into the guest room to show my sister. Without saying anything, I walked toward her and handed her the test. After over a year and a half of negative ovulation tests, negative pregnancy tests, negative feelings (all around negativity), I had no expectation of seeing a positive, I was stunned. I was so happy my sister was there to share that moment with me. She was so excited for me, she took me to lunch and even bought me a new box of pregnancy tests just so I could be sure. I peed on both those sticks and both said positive. I'd pee on one every day if I could just to see that little plus sign. It's very exciting. But also, now I'm terrified. What if its ectopic? What if I miscarry? What if my blood work mysteriously says I'm not actually pregnant? So many questions.

Frustration

So I had an appointment for an ultrasound marked in my calendar for Thursday the 13. I know this was the correct day because it was supposed to be three days after my last clomid pill. I got up early, drove an hour and a half to the clinic, and it was closed. They run late sometimes, so I didn't really think much of it. I mean I was annoyed.. but at least I was sitting waiting in my car rather than sitting in the ultrasound room, vagina out, waiting for the doctor for 40 min. So after 20 minutes I called the office again and the answering service answered. The girl was a real bitch about it too. "Ummmm... the office is closed" But I had an appointment. "Okaaaaaaaay, what do you want me to do?" I don't know why they would have made an appointment with me when they're closed. "Um, yeah, that's because your appointment was yesterday. Wednesday the 12th at 8:30. So, you missed it." I was so upset I cried the whole way home. Now I have no idea if I've ovulated and I don't know what the plan is moving forward. I had my questions all ready, I just wanted to know SO badly what was going on in my body.

I know that I'm fed up with with the Beach Center for Infertility. Dr. Flood is fine. I actually like her quite a bit, but her staff are idiots. I spent the several hours following my brush off from the answering service girl calling all kinds of different numbers to figure out how to change my referral to a different clinic. It's all a big mess. So much bureaucracy, it's just outrageous. I had to call tricare, who told me how to search for another provider, which I found and called to make sure they were accepting patients. They were, so I called the tricare appointment line, who directed me to Langley, who directed me to the office where my Primary Care Physician works. The woman I talked to did not understand why I was told I needed a referral from my Primary, when I had already been referred to Women's Health and then referred again to Portsmouth and then referred again to VA Beach. They were supposed to call yesterday afternoon and let me know if I would have to make an appointment with with Primary to get the referral. Of course, no call. They haven't called yet this morning either. Anyway, it's all very annoying and I have no idea how it's going to work out, but I would really like to go to Richmond instead of VA beach for treatments. I mean, ideally there would be a clinic within a reasonable distance that accepts my insurance, but no such luck with that, so Richmond is the next best thing.  Plus, I like Richmond, they have a bunch of great restaurants.

Until I can get that referral, I have rescheduled, and called to verify, an appointment for Monday. Hopefully I will have more to update then. I'm curious to find out if I ovulated, how close I am to ovulating, whether I need more clomid to grow my follicles or a trigger shot if they're okay sized and I just haven't ovulated. I will be asking about an HSG test and the test for luteal phase defect which I was supposed to have done last cycle but (big surprise) my clinic dropped the ball and closed early the day I needed to call and make the appointment and didn't return my phone call for three days.

PCOS and The Holidays

This is the second holiday season I've endured since my PCOS diagnosis.

Last year during Christmas I was on my third round of Clomid with an assurance from my doctor that I'd be "pregnant in no time." I'd get sad when I thought about it too much, and it definitely put a damper on my holiday season, but I was still sort of blissfully ignorant. I was a little worried that our move to VA might put us back a month or so, but I was hopeful. I thought, this is a new year, I'm going to go into it with determination and a positive attitude, and I'm going to get pregnant. That didn't happen.

Part of what has been so difficult is that now, a year later, I feel like I'm no closer than I was a year ago. Or at least not much closer. I did ovulate, so that's a little progress, but it took over a year just to make that happen. Now I know more about all the other hurdles I have to overcome, I've become disillusioned. On the worst days, I feel like there's no hope. Most days though, I'm pretty okay.

I think the holidays are worst because there's so much weight on the idea of family.  Before infertility, I'd see cute little families walking around, dressed to see Santa, picking out a tree, and think, it won't be long before I have a cute little family of my own to build traditions with. Now to see a cute little family all giddy with Christmas spirit, makes me sad... and a little bitter usually too. I don't know if I will ever get to take my child to take pictures on Santa's lap. I don't know if I will get to have traditions like giving PJs to my little ones on Christmas Eve for them to wear on Christmas morning. I think the want for family is intensified over the holidays.

So how do I make it though it? How do you survive the holidays with infertility? I think you try to pause and appreciate all of the blessings you do have. And even though I am hurting, I really do have a lot to be thankful for.

The Worst Things to Say to Someone Struggling with Infertility

1. “You’re still so young; you have plenty of time.”
Firstly, brushing someone off is not helpful. Secondly, age will do nothing but hinder my ability to get pregnant, the older I get the more difficult getting pregnant will be.


2. “When are you going to have a baby?”
Prying into someones personal/reproductive business is always obnoxious, but when someone is struggling with infertility, it can be really painful.

3. “Well don't do anything extreme. You don't want to end up like Octomom.”
Extreme, like fertility drugs? Well, I don't ovulate without fertility drugs, so if I don't do anything "extreme" (barring a miracle) I will never conceive a baby. Believe me, I would really like not to have to take these sickness-inducing drugs.

4. “You should go on a vacation.”
Fertility treatments are expensive, so we couldn't afford a cruise to the Bahamas if we wanted to. Plus, we've tried pretty much everything at this point, we aren't really looking for suggestions, just support. 

5. “It's all in God's plan.”
Maybe everything does "happen for a reason" and all that, but this sort of implies that God has intended for you to cry yourself to sleep while you wait it out, or for your ovaries to be covered in cysts, or that you aren't fit be parents. In any case, it's just not what we want to hear.

6. “Ugh, I'm so bloated, I can't wait to have this baby out of me!” (or heartburn, or leg cramps, or any other pregnant lady complaint). You can't blame them, especially if they don't know what you're dealing with, but it still hurts to hear. In an infertile woman's eyes, a pregnant woman has everything, to hear them complaining is super annoying.

7.a. “Take one of mine, they're driving me nuts!”
Um, please appreciate that little miracle of yours. I would do anything to be driven nuts by my own child. Seriously, this one happens all the time and nothing makes me more upset. Why do all these unappreciative moms get to have babies and I can't. UGH.

7.b. “Enjoy [childlessness] while you can. Once they're here, there's no going back!”
Couples who are infertile would gladly trade their "care-free life" for sleepless nights or snot-stained clothes. Also, see above, these things are bad to say for pretty much the same reason.

8. “Why don't you just adopt?”
Just. Adopt. JUST. Adopt. It is actually an incredibly difficult and expensive process and not one that should be offered up all nonchalantly. A variant of this is "Have you considered adoption?" To which most infertiles would respond, "Yes, when you are told there is a chance you might never have a biological child, it is absolutely something you consider."

9. "Just relax, it will happen."
Well thanks for your vote of confidence, but relaxing wont increase a sperm count or rid ovaries of cysts. So no, relaxing probably wont help.

10. "Oh, you've been trying for a year and a half? That's nothing; I know a couple who struggled for SEVEN years before they got pregnant."
Oh, well excuse me, I didn't realize my feelings were completely invalidated because someone had it worse off than me. Sorry, that sounded bitter. It's just that "one-up"ing is never helpful.
  Actually, this probably all sounds a little bitter/over-sensitive to fertile people. Well, we are a little bitter, if you want to be supportive, you're going to just have to deal with it. But if you read through all of this, it means you care! Yay! That's a start :)

Here's a bonus one I just thought of:
11. "Oh, I struggled getting pregnant too. It took me almost SIX MONTHS!"
Yikes. You have to be kidding me. How might this be helpful? Answer, its not.

Dear Whoever You Might Be

I'm here waiting patiently.

There's a song by The Civil Wars that's called "To Whom it May Concern."

It goes like this:
Why are you so far from me?
In my arms is where you ought to be
How long will you make me wait?
I don't know how much more I can take
I missed you but I haven't met you
Oh but I want to
How I do
Slowly counting down the days
Till I finally know your name
The way your hand feels round my waist
The way you laugh, the way your kisses taste
I missed you but I haven't met you
Oh but I want to
How I do
How I do
I've missed you but I haven't met you
Oh how I miss you but I haven't met you
Oh but I want to
Oh how I want to
Dear whoever you might be
I'm still waiting patiently 

It came on Pandora during the midst of a crying fit and the words fit so seamlessly into the thoughts I was thinking, the feelings I was feeling. That's never happened to me. I mean, I like music, I really do, but I've never been one of those people who's like "This song changed my life" or "I swear, that songs about me" or who listens to a song on repeat until they're sick of it. I like what I like but I seriously don't even have a favorite song or favorite band, or even a favorite genre. But this song, I love.

I'm a dancer, a dancer who is out of practice and out of touch with her own body, but I heard this song and felt moved to dance. I just listened and danced and cried. It was cathartic and kind of beautiful.

So if someone dealing with infertility happens upon my blog, looking as I have often looked at others' blogs for inspiration (or commiseration), and needs a good cry, do yourself a favor and search for the youtube video. 

Update

I ovulated around the 15th of November. Actually ovulated, not just a false PCOS positive OPK. So that's cool. I also have two very large follicles on one ovary. I don't know if I can ovulate twice within a couple of days. Probably not. Anyway, at the check up if I hadn't ovulated they would have given me a trigger shot to force ovulation, but I had... and sooner than I was planning so I can't remember if we BD or not within the ovulation window. It's reassuring that they've found a combination of metformin and clomid that worked for me, so we can try it again next time. I have pretty much given up getting pregnant this round, but I am optimistic about the fact that I actually ovulated for real this time, for the first time in years.

It took a lot of clomid (100mg for 10 days straight), which is sort of unheard of. It's a little worrisome just because normally a woman builds up to 100 mg for 5 days and doctors wont repeat more than 4-6 rounds of that in a row. Well, I'm at 4 rounds in a row with the last one being a double dose and the plan is to do another round if I am not pregnant this cycle.

In other news, not one, but TWO of my facebook friends (young couples who got married over the summer) announced pregnancies over the weekend. That brings the grand total of currently pregnant  facbook friends to 9. NINE!!! It would be even higher, but two of them had their babies this month! Maybe I should move back to my home town. There seems to be something in the water. I should be happy for them; most of those 9 pregnancies were planned and most of those facebook friends will make wonderful parents and are truly good people. But I'm really not happy for them. I'm bitter and angry. One couple's friend commented about how lucky they were that the due date was around the time school lets out (prego is a teacher) to which she replied, "Oh, believe me, that was very strategic." Strategic? Like, you planned out the perfect time frame to get pregnant, had sex, and GOT PREGNANT? In ONE TRY? So that really does happen for some people then. Must be nice. Some of us chart temps and take drugs and chart ovulation with predictor kits and have sex ever single day of a cycle on the off chance that we might ovulate sooner or later than normal and do this for SEVENTEEN consecutive months and cannot get pregnant.

I'm allowing myself one day of bitterness and sadness. Tomorrow is a new day. Hey, there's a slight chance that a little embryo could be implanting as I type. I won't get my hopes up for that. But I am looking forward to the first cycle where there's a plan in place that I know could actually work. That's progress!

UDATE: I miscounted; Eleven facebook friends are currently pregnant (that I know of... who knows when the next little black and white ultrasound image of a little blob will become someone's profile picture). Is that real life? I mean seriously. It's not like I even a ton of facebook friends or anything. UGH.

Everywhere a Baby Bump

I keep seeing pregnant women. They're everywhere. I almost don't want to grocery shop anymore just because it makes me sad to see SO MANY PREGNANT BELLIES. Maybe I'm being hypersensitive because infertility sadness sort of intensifies around the holidays, but is it normal to see five pregnant women in one shopping trip? Going to grocery shopping on base is like pouring salt in an open wound.

Seriously, I can't run in for some dog food without seeing AT LEAST two or three pregnant women, usually its more like five or six. And more often than not I see them with little tiny babies in the cart too. When I see a pregnant 20 year old with twin babies in a stroller pulling a cart behind them filled with baby formula and frozen dinners, I'm just like, you've got to be kidding me. The pregnant women to other people ratio on base is crazy skewed. I wonder what percent of the US population is pregnant compared to the US Military Population. I bet it's way higher for military.  I think it must be the full healthcare coverage, because these ladies seem to be making it their mission to pop out babies. Good. For. All. Those. Fertile. Little. Spouses.

It's hard not to be bitter about it. I feel like a bitter old hag when I find myself staring at these women, judging them for being luckier and more fertile than I am. And then I feel guilty about it, I mean, It's not their fault I'm an emotional wreck. I try to think about the fact that I don't know their stories. Just because they are pregnant doesn't mean it was easy for them. I understand empathy, in theory, it's just hard to practice in this situation, when everything just feels so unfair. I have a shopping cart full of organic produce, lactose free milk (because apparently soy milk is bad for infertile women), gluten-free bread (because I can't have gluten either), and a ton of other healthy stuff that's supposed to "boost fertility" and these young wives are walking around with multiple babies and carts full of hot pockets and Oreos.

PCOS and Natural Remedies

I've taken a bunch of medicine to try and control my PCOS, but nothing has brought back my period.

Tired of eating Metformin like candy and feeling nauseous all day, I started looking into more natural ways of coping with it. I have been exploring several approaches.

Gluten-Free: I've been attempting gluten-free for several weeks. I can't really tell a difference except for now when I cheat and eat something with a questionable gluten content, I get really sick to my stomach. I miss pizza and regular pasta. and doughnuts. Why is there gluten in all my favorite foods?

Exercise: Most women with PCOS are also overweight or obese (as a result of the PCOS), sometimes all it takes to regulate their cycles is losing some of that excess weight. I am what is sometimes referred to as a "thin PCOS." Even though I gained upwards of 25 lbs after coming off birth control, I was still considered a normal weight. I started loosing some weight with the Metformin, and felt better about myself, but saw no other positive impact on my PCOS symptoms. Even if it wont solve my PCOS problem, I do feel better all around now that I have developed an exercise regimen. I do yoga for 20-50 min everyday and spend 15 min twice a day walking my dog.

Acupuncture: I have been receiving acupuncture treatments every other week for over two months. They are $85/session and starting to become to much for us to afford. I could've probably validated spending the extra money if I were seeing any kind of results, but after my last blood work verifying that after all this time, I still haven't even ovulated, I'm losing hope that acupuncture will work for me.

Low GI Diet: Less processed foods and less sugar, more vegetables and full fat dairy. I pretty much do this anyway, minus my enormous sweet tooth. I baked some gluten-free dark chocolate cookies recently, the plate of which is slowly dwindling, and have to keep reminding myself "just because it doesn't have gluten, doesn't mean it's good for me" maybe that will be my new mantra in yoga.

Herbal Stuff: I'm still exploring this idea. Chasteberry is supposed to do something good, as well as something called Vitex. Cinnamon is also good, apparently, and I love it, so I sprinkle a little on pretty much everything.

So how are all, or any, of these attempts working? Well, in combination with all the western medicine I'm ingesting on a daily basis, these natural practices have resulted in.... nothing. I guess I should give it all more time... Rome wasn't built in a day, and all that. But after over a year with no period (longer looking back on the five years before that I was only getting withdrawal bleeds from BC) I feel like I've been doing nothing but waiting, giving it more time, trying to be patient.

My patience is fading. I'm sort of at a loss. I just don't know what more I could possibly be doing.

Still not Pregnant

I had blood work done on Monday to confirm ovulation/see if I am pregnant. I hate getting blood drawn; half the time, I pass out, which terrifies me every time. This time I had the blood drawn lying down, which I think helped. It would've been relatively painless if my first vein hadn't blown and the nurse hadn't spent several minutes digging around my arm to try and fix it... She hadn't gotten enough from that arm, so she had to re-draw from my other arm. I ended up having more blood taken than necessary, and with two arms wrapped at the elbow in blue gauze/tape, I looked like a very pale ninja turtle (to make matters worse/funnier I was also wearing a green turtleneck).

Worse yet, when the nurse called with the results I was not only not pregnant (which I already assumed because of a BFN pee test I had already taken)... I had also not even ovulated. This was a bit upsetting because I had gotten a positive OPK (which I know aren't reliable with PCOS, but I don't get positives all the time like some women... I pretty much never get a positive. This is only the second time I'd seen a little smiley face on the test after having gone through probably six boxes of the stupid things) It's been over a year since I had my PCOS diagnosis (and well over a year since we started TCC) and I STILL haven't ovulated. WTF? So over the last year I have not had a single, actual, shot at getting pregnant.

So the plan now is 10 continuous days of clomid with a pelvic ultrasound scheduled a couple of days after that. Though the five previous attempts with clomid have done exactly NOTHING for me, my RE thinks that this dose, for longer, might finally get me to ovulate. I have my doubts. I am going to do a little research and if I haven't made progress in the ovulation department, I'm going to suggest we start talking about more serious treatments and procedures.

In other news, I had a nice little break from employment but B and I decided that we didn't want to give up our nights out/extra spending and as our savings dwindled, I needed to get a job, fast. So now I have two, which I haven't started yet because they are both govt. jobs and require excessive background checking/clearances. I'm worried about the added stress of two jobs and nervous about making the timing work with two different schedules. The stress is not good for TCC, I know. But being broke is not good for it either. I'm sure it will all work out. I feel like I do a whole lot of waiting and worrying... story of my life.

Meeting Adorable Children

This weekend I was lucky enough to spend some time with my family on the East Cost (we left JUST before the storm). My cousin and his wife have the most adorable children in the world. The oldest is so smart. He knows all kinds of things about NYC and can give directions as well as some adults I know. He's like, 4. The littlest one is about a year and a half, I think. She's the giggliest baby I've ever met and she was obsessed with Paisley, which was too cute for words.

Usually being around kids, especially really cute ones, makes me a little bitter and sad. I've been known to tear up after seeing kids do cute stuff like bark at Paisley when she's on her walk, or play games with their grandparents out at a restaurant.

Being around these particular children though, was refreshing and inspiring for some reason. I just felt happy to be spending time with them, and so hopeful for the future. Maybe it is because I got to interact with them, get to know them, instead of just seeing them and being like "well, that kid was adorable. Why should that person get to have that cute kid when I can't have one? I hate my life." Maybe it's because I can't be bitter because I know what amazing parents these particular children have. Either way, I left hopeful that I WILL be able to have a baby one day (through whatever means it ends up happening) and inspired to be the kind of parent my cousins are to their kids.

I think one of the worst parts of infertility for me is the fact that I love kids so much. There are people who like kids, who maybe want children sort of abstractly, there are some who love theirs but are sort of "eh" about other peoples, and then there are those who just get them. I get kids. I love them, and they love me. I've never met a kid who wasn't instantly just as enamored with me as I am with them. I'm not trying to sound conceited, but it's just a fact. They love me.

That's why seeing adorable babies makes me so bitter. I just know how much I love other peoples kids, I can't even imagine the kind of love I could have for my own. It sort of overwhelms me to think about, actually. And that thought invariably leads to the fact that there is a possibility I could never get to experience that relationship, and that devastates me.

It also makes me bitter when I compliment someone on their small child and they say something like, "they're not so cute when you're chasing and cleaning up after them all day." I've worked in a pre-school, spent ALL DAY with toddlers, running after them, changing diapers, reading stories. I spent more waking hours with these children than their parents and I freaking LOVED it. I get so annoyed with these parents who don't seem to appreciate how amazing their children are.

I try to be understanding, maybe they've had a really bad day... maybe they're just quieted their screaming child or got peed on or something and they're feeling momentarily unappreciative. Honestly, that's probably what it is most times, but that doesn't keep me from wanting to punch anyone who's all "oh, just wait until you're a mom, you won't think they're so cute once you're changing diapers all day," or, "Enjoy your time without kids, because once they're here, there's no going back!" One day I'll just be like, "Actually, I'm infertile. I might NEVER be a mom, but you can be DAMN sure that if I ever become one,  I WILL still think they're cute after sleepless nights and countless diapers. I will absolutely appreciate them more than you seem to appreciate yours. Count your blessings"... "Bitch" (I'd probably just add that last part in my head).

Little Sparkley Shoes

It's been over a week since I wrote a blog post. I don't know why exactly, but I've been feeling sort of blase about my infertility lately. I walked past adorable families with newborns, picked up a tiny little sparkley TOMS shoe, and endured some "getting pregnancy is easy and instant" TV references without bursting into tears. I didn't feel compelled to journal my feelings. I kept thinking, it is what it is... maybe I'll never get pregnant, maybe I will. I thought maybe I was just cried out. Nope.

Yesterday I had another meltdown. My husband told me he was relieved; he had been worried I was holding in my emotions.

It's a lot of things, really. I just feel like a failure. I've always been a go-getter, most likely to succeed and all that. I graduated high school with a million academic and extra curricular accolades, and excelled similarly in college, finishing with a 4.0. Then I got married and started my new life as an Air Force spouse. I've sort of given up on finding a position teaching art, but it would be nice if I could at least get a position substitute teaching. I've applied all over, event at Starbucks, and nothing. I have a teaching degree for goodness sakes. I got a job waiting tables, which I hated and left. I couldn't even hack it as a waitress. As a formerly independent woman who is now unemployed and completely dependent upon her husband, who she gave up a career for, I feel like such an idiot. FEMINIST FAIL.

Also, I have no friends, at least not here in Virginia. There is no one I could call up and be like, "hey, lets get a coffee." Really, how are adults supposed to make friends? At a job? Well, the last couple of jobs I've had have not really been conducive to building friendships. I've seriously thought about making business cards and shopping for friends at Trader Joe's. I've had the same friends from school and dance since I was a child. I'm not good a starting new friendships. Am I unlikeable? FRIENDSHIP FAIL.

And then, the ONE thing that I'm supposed to be able to do without even thinking about it, that my body is supposed to be built for, I can't even handle. Not only can I not get pregnant, I can't even ovulate. FEMALE FAIL. In addition, I have acne all over my face, difficulty losing weight, and thick, black hair on my upper lip, chin and chest. DOUBLE FEMALE FAIL.

I guess maybe the nonchalant feeling was more of a depression. I feel like a loser. I've always struggled with feeling not good enough, but this is worse, I feel like I can't do ANYTHING right, even the most basic things, like menstruation. I know that it's not my fault my body is revolting against me, there's not much that I can do that I'm not already doing, but I think maybe that makes it even worse. Maybe it's cyclical, even hormone induced. Maybe I go through these feelings of highs and lows every attempt? It wasn't so long ago I was posting about all the positive aspects of my infertility, and there are positive things. Even when I'm feeling so low, there is always a silver lining. 

Some good, from the bad:
Unemployment = me time.
I have time to do yoga each morning, drink a cup of tea (as slowly as I like), take a ballet class once a week, get acupuncture, cook elaborate dinners from scratch.

Delayed baby making = More time to get our shit together
Build a savings, grow stronger as a couple, stop eating junk

No bun in oven = Doing things preggo ladies can't do
Soft cheese, roller coasters, SUSHI!, martinis... Sure I'd trade my Hendricks for a little one in a second, but still, I'll miss having a drink if I ever do get pregnant.

Back To Reality

B and I spent a beautiful weekend camping. We cooked s'mores, slept on a deflating air mattress, saw a bear(!), and even happened upon an apple butter celebration on a mountain top (for real).

It was a nice, relaxing, break from reality... but now I'm back.

I am trying another month of metformin, progesterone, clomid, before seeing an actual reproductive endocrinologist. In October, it will be 16 months that I've been struggling with infertility.

I'm not sure if it's because of the fact that I'm dealing with the military healthcare system, or that being brought up in a family who pretty much never went to the doctors has rendered me ill equip to handle anything of medical nature and has made me a terrible advocate for myself, or that (based on various comments from my doctors who told me that I'm "still so young," that I "have plenty of time," and "should have no trouble getting pregnant") I'm not a priority in the infertility world, but I feel like my treatment process has taken longer than it should.

We found out I had PCOS in Biloxi, and decided to start actively trying to conceive because it was clear it would be a struggle. The doctor immediately started me on a regimen of progesterone and clomid for three months, upping my dosage each time. With no pregnancy and no ovulation, we would have continued the medicine with monitoring and done further testing to make sure my fallopian tubes and all that stuff was working properly. But then we moved. I couldn't make an appointment with women's health until I had a referral from my primary physician, who didn't have an open appointment for six weeks. I started crying in the doctors office and I guess they pitied me and pulled some strings to get me in sooner with another doctor. From that appointment, It took me a month to get in to see my OB/GYN and restart the whole process, only she did not want to continue the clomid treatments until we tried less serious medicine. I was totally cool with that, until it became clear that the metformin was not having it's intended results.

She never thought it was necessary to see me in person, when I'd call she'd forget what she'd told me the time before and completely change her mind... "let's try another three months on the same dose, and then we'll add the clomid" after she'd told me the month prior that if I hadn't started menstruating in a month, we'd start with clomid... this, by the way, after she'd been telling me from the start, and through five months of metformin, that she wouldn't feel comfortable giving me a period inducing drug or trying clomid. It took eight months of ineffective treatments and getting brushed off and fed more medicine before I finally got a referral to an infertility specialist.

Today I tried to make an appointment with the RE that I should have been sent to several months ago, but apparently they're "at capacity," so I have an appointment for a month from now with an RE that's even further away, with a super sketchy looking website, and I feel totally helpless.

Do I even have a choice? I have no idea how TRICARE works. I think I could ask to see another specialist since they're already sending me off base, but I don't even know what kind of paperwork would go into that, or where I'd start. And what if I actually get pregnant? My referral is for 6 appointments only. By then maybe they'd have space for me at Portsmouth, which is an hour away, if traffic is good, which it never is, so it's more like two. What if I had an emergency and got stuck in the tunnel? My worst nightmare (aside from the one where I never get pregnant) is that I do, and I end up having a complication and having to go to some random hospital with some doctor I've never met. I guess that's part of the deal with infertility. I can either be a confused, helpless, victim, or I can become an advocate for myself. I need to start playing a more active role in my treatment. If I'm unhappy with the care that I am getting, I can, and should speak up. Easier said than done, but I'm resolved to try.

10 Good Things

Growing up, whenever I'd complain about something, a bad day, a "B" on a paper, my mom would sing this to me: "accentuate the positive, eliminate all the negative, latch on to the affirmative, and don't mess with mister in-between." (kinda like any time I'd ask for anything special... lifesize barbie, etc. she'd sing The Rolling Stones' "You can't always get what you waaaaaant").

So, even though I've been feeling extra lousy I keep coming back to that idea... accentuating the positive, or trying to at least. Even though I'm dealing with infertility, which is infinitely shitty, I do have so much to be thankful for because of my struggle with infertility. 

1. I have a husband who loves me, unconditionally, and would do anything for me. I read comments from other women whose husbands "refuse to get a semen analysis" or "would never consider adoption"...my husband would never even think of discounting my feelings like that. I think the experience of infertility has made our relationship stronger, and our resolve to grow our family even more firm.

2. I have a diagnosis. It sucks having PCOS, but it's a good thing to know. So many women suffer through PCOS for years and never know, or are misdiagnosed or ignored when they express concern. I'm 23 years old, I know I have PCOS, and I'm making strides to get it under control... I count myself ahead of the game. 

3. When I eventually do become a mom, through whatever means that ends up happening, I will be grateful for every moment. 

4. My dog is the sweetest dog in the entire world. She's my baby girl. She's always down for a cuddle, especially when I break down in tears and hold up in my bed, curled up in a ball. She will come check on me... rest her head on the pillow next to mine and look at me like, "it's okay, mommy, you still have me."

5. Before my struggle with infertility, I knew I wanted children, but I was sort of consumed by the desire for a baby girl. I researched all the ways to conceive a girl. I thought about only girl names. I thought about how disappointed I would be to have a boy, how it would be 'just my luck' because things rarely work out in my favor. Now I just feel so... stupid, selfish, ridiculous for having those thoughts. If I ever do have a biological child, I will be just as elated to have a boy as I would be for a girl, because it will be an absolute miracle.

6. My body is kinda rockin right now. I always felt like my body was pretty average; I always wanted to be thinner, prettier, more confident, but still I felt good (if not great) about the way I looked. I never really considered how lucky I was to feel good in my skin, until I gained 20 pounds. At the height of my PCOS I had gained a lot of weight, my face was covered in acne, my hair felt greasy all. the. time, I had dark hairs growing out of my chin, and cheeks, and chest, I was not menstruating, I had never felt worse about myself, or less like a woman. Even though the metformin makes me nauseous pretty much all the time, it has also regulated my hormones enough that I have been able to lose the weight I gained since stopping birth control and subsequently having my PCOS symptoms develop. After over 6 months of hating myself, I can once again button up my beloved high waisted cutoff Levis, I don't have to squeeze into my old dance clothes, I can look in the mirror without feeling disgusted, in fact, when I look in the mirror, I feel great, and that's awesome.

7. I have a new sense of understanding toward other women. I have bad days, like really bad days, like, burst into tears in the middle of target because I walked past the baby aisle kind of days. I'm usually pretty good at covering up the pain though, and it makes me think, how many of the other women that I see feel just as sad and isolated, and I'd never know? It makes me think more carefully about the way I speak to, and about, other women.

8. ...aaaaand that's all I can think of. I was going to try to come up with 10 positive things that have come from my infertility, but I think 7 is as positive as I'm going to get, which is definitely progress from "everything in my life is falling apart and I have nothing going for me and I fail at life." I think if I can keep trying to focus on the positive, I will have more good days than bad ones. That's the plan.

Infertility and shame

Money, politics, religion, sex can are be super awkward to talk about but infertility feels somehow above and beyond "taboo." It's all wrapped up in the privacy and intimacy of sex, something we tend to be super squeamish about in our culture. Infertility language is all "semen and sperm and cervical mucus and ovaries and sex positions" and it feels really uncomfortable and too personal to talk about. But beyond the "it's yucky" aspect, there is so much shame associated with infertility. Verbalizing it feels like admitting failure. There's this one, basic thing as a female that I am supposed to be able to do, and I can't. But there's nothing I can do to change it (aside from treating the symptoms) and there's nothing I did to cause it, so why should I be embarrassed about it? I shouldn't. And if it might help others to hear my story, why shouldn't I talk about it. I should. But realizing this and actually being able to be upfront about it with people are different things.  

Trying to Stay Grounded

Most women ovulate each month. I haven't ovulated in 14. That is, until ten days ago. I peed on my ovulation predictor stick at night on day 10 of my cycle, got sick of waiting for the result, and went to bed. The next morning I went to take another test (I was going all out, testing twice a day this cycle) and ejected the strip to find a smiley face!

I'd gone through three boxes of Ovulation Prediction Kits and had NEVER seen a positive. It's always an empty circle, the connection of which, to an empty womb, is never lost on me. But that day, CD10, there was a totally different association, one between a smiley face on a pee covered stick, to the smile that quickly spread across my face. It's best to have had sex before ovulation... I thought back, we definitely had! We did it again right then and there, and for the next few days, just to be sure ;)

I then began stalking "twoweekwait.com," because I knew that the next two weeks would be difficult, and I'd heard that reading others' stories might help. So I started looking at the "symptoms" other women started having on certain days after ovulation. Lower back aches, check, acne breakout, check, getting up at night to pee, check, I even had what could be "implantation bleeding" at 9DPO (days past ovulation). What if I'm pregnant, right now? What if I'm not, and I've gotten myself all excited about it?

I'm trying to manage my expectations. I keep telling myself that even just ovulating is progress. But I can't help my imagination... if I'm pregnant now, then around Thanksgiving or Christmas, I might be able to tell friends and family! and how perfect because my parents might be in town! and we'd have the baby May-ish, which would be around our anniversary!.. and Leo or Milo would be so cute for a boy, and Amelia if it's a girl... and on, and on. UGHHHHHH. A girl can dream. And I do, but I also think about everything that could go wrong, even if I do get pregnant. After over a year of struggling with infertility I start to look at the bigger picture; it took me 14 months to even ovulate, what if it takes 14 more to get pregnant? And what from there?

What happens if I do get pregnant? What if I'm pregnant NOW? I get that little plus sign on that test, what then? What if it's an ectopic or chemical pregnancy, whatever those are (don't want to research, don't want to freak myself out more, ignorance is bliss)? What if I have a miscarriage? What if I have the baby prematurely? What if I carry the pregnancy to term, and lose it during childbirth? What if I have a perfectly healthy child and they're killed in a car accident a year later? These are the places my mind goes... I must be nuts. I'm having anxiety about a pregnancy that probably doesn't even exist... and might never exist.

Whatever happens, I know that there is only so much control over the situation that I have. The best thing I can do is keep myself healthy, try to stay positive, and try to keep believing that everything happens for a reason, and that when I do have a baby and through whatever process it comes to be, I will know why I had to wait so long and struggle so much to get to that moment. And it will have all been worth it.