{that time I was pregnant}

I've gone back and fourth about sharing this on my blog, and after much debate, I decided to post what I had originally wrote a few weeks ago.  I've shared everything with you up to this point, from the vag ultrasound to acupuncture- the ups and downs, and your emails of support have been amazing! So with that said, I hope that in sharing this, I can bring someone else who's experiencing the same thing some comfort, which is what you've all done for me.


...Today is Tuesday, April 17th. It's a rainy spring afternoon, and the weather outside matches what I am feeling inside. Drab. Cold. Gray.

I've debated writing this for a few hours now and while I'm not enteirly sure I'll click publish quite yet, I need to get my thoughts on paper (so to speak).

There has been so much I've wanted to blog about the last few weeks. So much I wanted to share- my excitement, my anxiousness, my worries. So much in fact that I wrote an email to myself so I wouldn't forget. I'll share it here to give you a peek into what was going on...

Thursday, April 5th. I’m writing all of this before I post it on my blog while the memories are fresh.

We had decided to adopt. After trying to conceive for three years, we felt in our hearts that adoption was the right step to take and figured that conceiving just wasn’t in the cards for us, and I was coming to terms with that. My period was to start on April 3^rd. When it didn’t come, I was bugged. I was past hoping for a pregnancy, but I was frustrated that my cycles were becoming longer and longer. First it was the normal 28 days. Then it was 30. Then 32. When I still hadn’t gotten my period by the 5^th of April, the thought that I might be pregnant crossed my mind, but only for a split second. Instead of being excited, thinking I could be pregnant, I was annoyed. I had one pregnancy test left from a pack I bought that had 3 in it. The first two tests brought heartache and major disappointment. Each time I had pee'd on that stupid stick, I was full of hopeful anticipation. Now I was just annoyed. I hastily took the test out of the package, did my business and then waited. Instead, this time, I threw a washcloth over the test and continued to get ready for work.

Two tests earlier, I would have studied that stick like a hawk, praying my heart out in the three minute waiting period for two lines to appear, only to be struck with disappointment as a single line became bolder. That was usually followed by feeling a wave of sadness engulf me. It was a vicious cycle, and I wasn’t going to let that happen this time. This time, I could care less. I just wanted to know and it didn’t matter, anyway. I knew I wasn’t pregnant. About 5 minutes later, I walked back into the bathroom and grabbed the test from under its hiding place.

Two lines. One light and one dark. But there were two parallel lines.

I squinted at it again. Clearly I wasn’t seeing this correctly. I picked up the box to make sure I was reading it right. Two lines = pregnant. My head slowly turned up and I met my gaze in the mirror. Furrowed eyebrows and a look of confusion stared back at me. If I could have taken a picture of my face I would have. It was a look of complete and udder shock.  I didn’t let myself get too excited because I thought it could have been a false pregnancy. Still, I threw on some clothes, pulled my hair up quickly, skipped putting on makeup and left the house to show Andrew. He was going to be so shocked...

 As I re-read that email I can't help but cry. I was so, so excited. Finally, what we had wanted for so long, what we had waited for, prayed for, and hoped for, was happening. I made an appointment with my fertility doctor that morning and a blood test confirmed what my home test had told me. We were expecting. My hcg level was a 70 and my progesterone was low at a 10. My doctor immediately prescribed Prometrium to spike my progesterone levels. Another test two days later showed my hcg levels at a 170 (doubled = good) and my progesterone was good. They estimated that I was about 4 1/4 weeks pregnant and wanted me to come in for an ultrasound on Tuesday to check the yolk sac (when I would be 5 weeks along). Tuesday came and I anxiously waited on the exam table. When they nurse came in, she told me to lay back and scoot down (I should have remembered from last time) and started the ultrasound. As she was looking around, her face got a bit serious. Looking at the same black and white screen, I couldn't tell what the heck I was looking at. She hesitated and then said that she wasn't seeing a sac- or anything. I told her I was pretty sure I ovulated later than they thought, and if that was the case, I'd only be about 4 weeks pregnant. The nurse told me at 4 weeks they wouldn't be able to see anything, but she was still a little concerned it could be ectopic (since my levels were going up but no visual). This, of course, sent a wave of panic through me, and she sent me to get another blood test. I went back to work and waited until that afternoon, hoping for the best, but I knew something wasn't quite right. The call that came later confirmed what I was feeling. The HCG levels had gone up, but just barely, which caused them to be more concerned. Usually with an ectopic pregnancy, your levels will slowly increase, but won't double or triple like they should. I freaked out and had a mental breakdown right there at work. My coworkers, I'm sure, thought I had gone crazy, as nobody knew what was going on. I left early and called Andrew on my way home, bawling and telling him what happened. Hoping that I was just a week behind, my doctor scheduled another ultrasound for the next Monday and the wait was torture. I still had all the symptoms of early pregnancy (tender breasts, fatigue, semi sick) so I tried to stay positive and spent the rest of the week praying and hoping for the best, but expecting the worst.

See, I'm a realist. While I do believe in miracles and hope for the best, I can't help but look at what doctors and scientist are putting in front of my face and agree with what they say. When my doctor told me it could be ectopic, I was really concerned it could be. When they told me that my levels weren't rising and something wasn't right, I believed them. Andrew, on the other hand, is much more hopeful. He kept telling me he knew everything was going to be fine,  and while I wanted to believe him, I just knew in my heart something wasn't right.

Finally Monday came and I found myself once again on the exam table. Andrew was with me this time and another doctor was doing the ultrasound, as my doctor was out of town. Once again, the black and white screen showed nothing. I was disappointed, but somehow expected it. Andrew, on the other hand was crushed. The doctor told me that even if I had ovulated later, they should have seen a yolk sac at this point. Now I was really freaked out it was ectopic. They drew more blood and I waited at work for them to call. Finally, at 5:00, my nurse called. I stepped outside, standing next to my car as she told me that my HCG levels were a 6. They dropped so suddenly and they were so low, the pregnancy couldn't be sustained. She expressed how sorry she was, but the good news was that I got pregnant without any fertility aides. All I could do was nod, which over the phone, doesn't translate. My voice cracked as I verbally thanked her, and then I couldn't stop sobbing. She told me to stop taking the prometrium and that I would probably start bleeding soon and again, she was so sorry.

I was devastated. I called Andrew and we both cried on the phone. I left work and cried the whole way home. We told our families later that evening and by that point, I was numb. I didn't cry when I told them, which was frustrating. Looking back, I think I was probably in a little bit of shock.

The next day, when I woke up feeling crampy, it hit me. I called my boss and started bawling when she answered, telling her briefly what happened and that I needed a day to myself. Thankfully, she understood and I hung up, buried my head in my pillow and sobbed. I knew I needed to get up and make myself be productive (my way of coping) so I painted my dining room wall. There were times during the day when I felt fine and then, suddenly without warning, the tears would come and when they did, I let them fall.

A few days after my period started, I left on a trip with my mom to Los Angeles. It had been planned before any of this happened, and I feel like it came at a perfect time. I was able to relax, take my mind off of what was happening, and spend time with on of my favorite people- my mom.

I still have mixed emotions about my miscarriage. On the one hand, I got pregnant. Without fertility drugs and without ovulation kits. I now know my body is capable of getting pregnant, which is great! But at the same time, I wanted that baby so bad. I wanted it to stick and to work out and to be healthy. In the short time I was pregnant, I let myself think about how we would tell our families. Creative, fun ways - we had decided to tell them on Mothers Day. Finally, I thought, I get to celebrate with the millions of other moms. I let myself think about how I would decorate the nursery if it were a boy or a girl. I thought about when I would be due - right before Christmas. I downloaded an app on my phone that gave weekly baby updates (which after miscarrying, still popped up until I figured out how to uninstall it, adding salt to my fresh wound).

And yet, I still got pregnant. Even if it was for a few short weeks. Who knows what the future holds. Maybe it'll happen again. Maybe it won't. We're still continuing the adoption process and praying for the best. This time, I'm learning to expect the best too- whichever way it turns out.

{that time I got acupuncture, part one}

If you haven't heard, Andrew are in the process of adopting. It's a long, long process- one that you should be totally invested in. One thing they tell you is to make sure all of your eggs are in one basket. Don't be riding the fertility treatment train if you're also planning on making stops at adoption town (great analogy, right? ha!). You get what I mean, right?

The hubs and I talked about this the day we got home from the adoption orientation. Were we really fully invested? Yes, we think we are. Is there anything besides InVitro that we haven't tried yet? No, we've tried it all...meds (holistic and traditional), shots, pills, massage, reflexology, IUI, etc. I was checking my email as we discussed this and when a city deal appeared in my inbox, I suddenly remembered one thing we hadn't tried. Acupuncture. The thought of multiple needles sticking in me made me a little apprehensive, but I thought, "Hey, at least I can say I tried it, right?" One last effort, and by golly if the city deal wasn't just for that!

I immediately bought the deal. Half off your consultation and treatment. I called and made my appointment for the following Monday.

I went during my lunch hour and had told my co-workers about the appointment. The ones who had previously had acupuncture told me about their experiences. They said it helped them heal (mainly with pain) and was totally relaxing. Others who hadn't had it done had the same worries I did.

I arrived at a little office in Cottonwood. The doctor was a nice, young guy who just recently opened his practice. I told him about my fertilitiy issues, PCOS, and what I've tried so far. He told me how acupuncture worked (increased blood flow, etc) and that he'd only be placing the needles below the elbow and below the knees (which was a relief, as I didn't want to get nakie). The room was a relaxing shade of sage green, softly lit with a paper lantern. The shades were turned to block the light and someone had sewn a canopy that filtered the florescent lights out of black, green, and tan printed fabric that I recognized from Ikea. It was nice and relaxing and I wondered if it was harmonious with feng shui design. All it needed was a little fountain of some sorts.

I laid down on the padded massage table and before I knew it, I had a dozen or so needles in me in various spots on my arms and legs that corresponded with my reproductive areas. I half expected to feel a poke or a pinch in my womb area when the needles were inserted, but I was surprised that it didn't hurt at all, and once they were in, I couldn't even feel them. He dimmed the lights, shut the door and left me to meditate. The relaxing music of chinese violins and flutes lulled me into a deep state of relaxation and I tried to invision myself pregnant. You know the power of positive thinking? All the "if you wish it, it will come" type of thinking? That's what I was trying to do. About half way through my meditation, I began to hear the sound of children. First it was quiet and then began to increase. Not giggling, sweet voiced children, but screaming and yelling children. "What the heck?" I thought. I thought maybe I had taken my power of positive thinking too far and was having some weird hallucinations about kids until I realized the office window was about 15 yards from a school and the kids were out for recess. I tried to ignore then and then thought I'd try to incorporate the sounds of the kids into my positive thinking (yay kids! I love kids! even screaming kids at recess!), but really, all I wanted to hear was the chinese flute as I invisioned a fetus growing inside of me. Not kids yelling, fighting over a game of dodge ball. 

When it was over, the doctor came back into the room, removed the needles (again painless) and I left feeling rejuvenated, relaxed, and anxious for my next treatment....

{adoption orientation}

A few weeks ago, the hubs and I attended an hour long adoption orientation at our adoption agency. We decided to go through an agency founded by our church, and our local office is conveniently located right across the street from us.

Naturally, I was a little apprehensive and nervous. I had no idea what to expect and tried not to have any expectations at all (which if you know me, is impossible).

We arrived 15 minutes before the orientation was to begin, and the minute we walked in I evaluated my surroundings. As Andrew checked us in, I found a seat near the front of the office on a floral tapestry sofa, circa 1995. The teal velvet club chairs and scroll woodworking on the coffee tables reminded me of the lobby in my church growing up. It may have been the extra large, silk floral arrangement in the center of the table that threw me over the edge, or maybe it was the fact that it was so silent, you could hear a mouse fart, but suddenly, I was overwhelmed with feeling like I was about to confess my sins to my old bishop. Not a pleasant feeling.

I squirmed in my seat and was distracted from my thoughts by the front door opening. More couples were filtering in, giving their names, and sitting in seats around the lobby. I wanted to badly to get up, introduce myself, and make friends with the new couples in the room. After all, we already knew we had one thing in common- infertility- but the deadening silence and awkward glaces we exchanged increased the intimidation I was feeling, so I stayed in my seat.

Finally, we were called back to the conference room where we were seated around a ginormous conference table. I half expected Donald Trump to enter the room and chose which one of us would receive babies and who would be fired. I looked around at the other couples and suddenly, I felt as if I really was in the beginning stages of some reality show where the winner was awarded a baby. I couldn't help but think of the other couples as my competition and started sizing them up. Who would get picked first? Did they have an advantage? My thoughts were interrupted when a sweet faced, fashionably dressed woman came in and introduced herself. She introduced herself and gave a brief introduction of the orientation and then asked each of us to introduce ourselves. We were first. Andrew looked at me, giving me a half nod while raising his eyebrows to let me know I needed to take the reigns on this one.  I decided to keep things short and sweet.

I started things out cheerfully- probably a little too cheerful to mask my nervousness. "Hi! We're the Crawfords- we're here because we haven't been able to get pregnant (obviously) and we're anxious to learn more!"

I wasn't really sure if that was the kind of introduction they were looking for, but I must have opened a gate of some sorts, because after us, each introduction became a little more personal and indepth. The couple next to us told about how they've been trying for three years. The next talked about the son they've already adopted and they're hoping to adopt again. Some people gave details about their infertility, including diagnoses, etc.

As the introductions continued, my feelings of competition faded. We were all there for the same purpose and it really didn't matter who got what first. We all just wanted to be parents, more than anything.

The orientation really opened my eyes to adoption. Questions were answered and and more questions were brought to mind. There is a lot to decide and even more to take in. While I wish I could say I felt totally at ease with the process, I'll be honest and say that I felt like the orientation is kind of a "weeding out process" (which, come to find out, is what other adoptive couples have said too). Adoption is not for the weary hearted. It's going to be a long, hard, emotionally draining and filling process, but one that is so worth it with a priceless reward.

We feel ready and we're diving in head first.

we're taking the plunge!

So, we start the process on Friday. Once we're approved, it's a waiting game from that point...but we're so excited and this feels so right!

If you've gone through the adoption process, shoot me an email & tell me about it!

Thanks for all your love and support! xoxo

{my new year mantra}

I'm alive. Don't worry. I've been M.I.A. these last few weeks and I have the holidays to blame...mostly. The 12 Days of Giveaways went really well and I was happy with the results! Sadly, the vendor for day #12 had to back out at the last minute, but it's okay- I have another giveaway planned for the new year!

Speaking of the new year, it's just days away! I've been thinking about resolutions and more than that, I've been thinking of my new years mantra, and while I've never really had a mantra that I have lived by, I decided that this year, I'd start.

It really wasn't hard thinking of one, considering everything I've been through this year, so I decided on Hope. I have hope that no matter what life throws at me, I can over come it. I have hope that things will work out the way they're supposed to. And more importantly, I have hope in my Savior, Jesus Christ and know that He will never allow despair to overcome my spirit.

I stumbled upon this little clip the other day and it summed up perfectly what I feel. I try not to get too preachy on my blog, as I believe each person has their own, individual believes and I respect them, but I wanted to share this clip.

Last month, Andrew and I decided to try IUI, or Intrauterine Insemination. It was something that we had really thought and prayed about and felt like it was the right time to try it. It's an expensive procedure (our insurance doesn't cover it) and a gamble. It's wasn't guaranteed and the success rate was only 10-20%. Still, we were hopeful that we'd get pregnant.

We told our close friends and family, and they were all rooting for us. After the procedure was done, all we had to do was wait. Those weeks seemed to take forever, all the while I was imagining all the fun ways we could tell our family we were pregnant...and then, it came. My period.

I knew the chances of becoming pregnant were slim, but I had still hoped for a pregnancy. The next few weeks were the hardest, as the people who knew about the procedure were beginning to get curious. Was I pregnant? With each question of, "So...?" or "Any news?" it became harder and harder to shake my head and say, "No...not this time..." and it became somewhat of an elephant in the room. Each year, Andrew's family throws their annual Christmas party on the first Saturday in December. As we were getting ready to leave, I broke down at the last minute and told him I didn't want to go. It wasn't that I didn't want to see his family- I love his family- it was just that I couldn't bear telling one more person that I wasn't pregnant. How could I get through the night without bawling? We went to the party, and did my best to not look anybody in the eye. I tried to stay in control of the conversations, and nobody asked, but I knew it was lingering in the back of their minds. When Santa asked what I wanted for Christmas, I said, "new countertops" when really, I wanted to say, "a baby". I suppose that's what comes with being so public about our stuggle with infertility- everyone asks about it. It's natural to be curious and most people are sensitive about the subject and sympathetic. Still, it's hard.

It's been hard these last few weeks. At times, I have felt that I've lost hope. After all, isn't it easier to succumb to despair, that it is to hold onto hope? Through it all, and especially this time of year, I've been able to focus on the Savior and that has saved me. I have faith that He is mindful of me and that things will work out, one way or another. And I have hope that there is reason to rejoice, even when all seems dark around. Hope is the anchor of my soul.

{i has a sad}

I wish it got easier every month. It doesn't.

{on asking "why me?"}

I was listening to NPR while sitting in my car in the back of the Target parking lot, as I often do on my lunch break (it's so relaxing to me) when a phrase caught me by surprise.

The guest, David Rakoff was talking to Terry Gross about his cancer. His doctors told him that the cancer — a sarcoma in his neck — was caused by earlier radiation treatments he received for a bout with lymphoma in his 20s. When Terry asked him if he ever asked "Why me..." this was his reply....

"Writer Melissa Bank said it best: 'The only proper answer to 'Why me?' is 'Why not you?' The universe is anarchic and doesn't care about us and unfortunately, there's no greater rhyme or reason as to why it would be me. And since there is no answer as to why me, it's not a question I feel really entitled to ask. And in so many other ways, I'm so far ahead of the game. I have access to great medical care. My general baseline health, aside from the general unpleasantness of the cancer, is great. And it's great because I'm privileged to have great health. And I live in a country where I'm not making sneakers for a living and I don't live near a toxic waste dump. You can't win all the contests and then lose at one contest and say 'Why am I not winning this contest as well?' It's random. So truthfully, again, do I wish it weren't me? Absolutely. I still can't make that logistic jump to thinking there's a reason why it shouldn't be me."

His comment totally caught me off guard. For the longest time as I've struggled with infertility, I've thought a million times, "Why me?" But seriously, why not me? It's true- the universe is anarchic and there is no greater rhyme or reason as to why it would be me. I'm a religious, faithful person, which to be honest, sometimes makes it easier to ask "why me"?  If God does love me, why would he deny me the one thing I want the most? I've let myself get consumed with that thought more times than I'd like to admit, and it's so consuming that at times, I've almost drowned in it. Becoming bitter and envious over something you don't have is a very easy thing to do and it's something I struggle with every day. Every day I pray for understanding and guidance. I have often wondered why it's been so difficult to get pregant, but when I'm really at peace with it and with myself, I can get past the "why me" part.

I have to remind myself that God does love me. Not getting pregnant is not his way of punishing me. It's just the way things are. Bad things happen every day to everyone, and rather than dwell on the negative, I'm learning to focus on the positive. I want a baby so bad. I want to be pregnant. But I have to realize that while I can only do so much that's in my control, the rest is up to Him. I've also realized that there are things I can control. I might not ever get pregnant, but that doesn't mean I can't be a mom and raise children. I have a lot to be grateful for. My sweet husband, my family and supportive friends, my job, house and car, modern technology, and pants without holes. ;)

So why not me? I wish this was something I could just say, "I'm okay with it", and breathe a sigh of relief. If only it were that easy, right? But for now, I'm accepting it and knowing that thing will work out how they're supposed to.

{an unexpected package}

Every day on my way home from work, I stop at the mail box at the top of our street. It's one of those community mail boxes where everyone has a key to open their little cubbie, and it's one of the small highlights of my day, getting the mail. True, most of the time it's full of bills and grocery ads, but every now and then I get a magazine or even a letter from a pen pal (Yes, I still have pen pals- I signed up here). Even better than a magazine or a real, handwritten letter is when you find a key in your mail box. You see, it's a rare occurrence to get a package, and when you do get one, the mail man puts a special key in your mail box that opens an even bigger mail box. It's an exciting thing to see the key sitting in your box, especially when you're not expecting a package.

So imagine my surprise today, when the key was in my mail box! Woo hoo! Who sent me a package!? Maybe an early birthday present? Did I win a prize? Had I ordered something I forgot about?

I put the key in, turned it, and opened the door to find this....
What the heck.......baby formula? Who sent me baby formula? I started to think that maybe someone had sent a present in a baby formula box, and they probably just forgot to wrap it, or maybe they were just lazy or forgot, you know, because they were taking care of their baby. However when I opened it, it was bonafide baby food.

All I could do was laugh. I really don't remember signing up for any thing where I'd get free baby formula and I thought it was kind of ironic that I would get it, given my infertile state. When the handyman got home, and I showed it to him, he looked confused and then said, "Are you pregnant?"

Uh, no babe. I wasn't upset, in fact, all I could do was laugh- it was the most random thing to find in the mail. Heck, maybe it's a good sign of good things to come! *crossing fingers*

But in the mean time, if you know anyone who needs baby formula, let me know! Rather than holding onto it, it makes more sense to let someone use it!

{baby blues and renewed hope}

What a whirlwind the past few weeks have been! Girls camp took up a huge chunk of my time! For those of you unfamiliar, girls camp is a time for the female youth in our church to spend a few days together up in the mountains, passing off certifications, bonding, and drawing nearer to God. Being part of the Young Women's program is awesome, but it's also a huge, huge undertaking and preparing for camp was exhausting....but not quite as exhausting as being at camp. I love me some outdoor adventures, but sleeping on a slanted hill, on a cot meant for a long sleepless night! Add a sleeping bag that's meant for winter camping (I should have read that tag that said, "It keeps you warm, even when it's -30 degrees!") it was pretty uncomfortable. I'd get hot, so I'd uncover and then I'd get cold so I'd cover back up. Then I'd get uncomfortable and want to turn over, but moving too much meant my cot would topple over so I tried to stay still. And then of course there was the torrential downpour complete with thunder and lightning. Mix that with screaming girls while frantically trying to set up tarps, getting soaked, and you'll get just a glimpse of the fun we had! ;) Honestly though, I'd go through it all again, because the good far outweighed the bad. The girls got along great, we had a lot of fun, laughed a lot, cried a lot, and felt God's love.

For me, that was one of the main reasons why I wanted to go to camp. I'd been in a serious funk in the weeks leading up to camp and I felt like I couldn't shake the feeling. One experience came right before I left and it left a gray cloud looming over for a long, long time.

I'd been on another round of clomid and for some reason, I really felt hopeful that this time just might be the right time and we'd get pregnant. Ever since we started trying, I'd been tracking my cycles religiously and I always started my period on day 28 or 29, so when I didn't have my period or any signs of it on day 29, I let my hopes increase. When there still wasn't anything on day 30,31, or 32 I was really really excited. This was all happening the weekend the hubs and I were celebrating our 4th anniversary and I starting thinking about how exciting it would be to find out we were preg that weekend! When I told him I was late, he suggested we get a pregnancy test. I wanted to wait a little while longer, just in case, and the more I thought about it, the higher my hopes got. Then on day 33, out of the blue, I was bleeding. Not the usual spotting that I get before my period, but hard core bleeding all of the sudden. I was at work and let out an audible, "Oh no..." in the bathroom and started bawling. I was so disappointed and mad at myself for allowing myself to get so excited. It was my first real, "Oh my gosh...could I be?" moment and my first hardcore let down.

The last few hours of work were awful as I tried to hold it together and the minute I got to my car, I let it all out and bawled and bawled. I was so so sad and angry at myself for being so hopeful when it was so early. Half way home, I found myself praying out loud, pouring my whole heart out and praying for understanding and to feel of His love. While there are a million women going through the same thing, I felt completely along and frustrated. On the one hand, I felt that my tiny problem was miniscule compared to others in the world, but I wanted to feel like I mattered and that He understood how I felt. It wasn't until got up to Girls Camp, where testimonies of God's love where shared that I really felt a renewed sense of hope and peace. I knew that no matter what happened, He was mindful of me and while things might not get easier right away, I'd have the strength to continue and I felt assurance that everything would be ok.

Many of you that have commented recently have gone through or are currently going through the same things I'm experiencing. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your comments and how much it means to me to know that I'm not the only one going through this! Sharing experiences, both good and bad have really helped me to not lose hope. I thought about why I share my private experiences on my blog with the world, and it's because I need the support and strength from others- and because I think someone out there could be reading this that needs to know their not alone too.

So thanks for your uplifting comments and love- I've seriously felt it and I hope you all feel my love too!

{all this for a baby part 3}

I'm not a patient person. When I want something, I do my best to "get 'er done" as quickly as possible, but lately it seems that I encounter a delay in everything. Whether it's trying to quickly run into a store for something, only to get stuck at the one register that's open with someone in front of me that needs to price check everything, or trying to quickly negotiate a settlement at work that turns into a huge ordeal. And of course, I can't just get pregnant like everyone else.

It's so frustrating. All the test show that I should be conceiving, and yet it's still not happening. Andrew even had his test (you know...the test), which turned up great results! His swimmers are strong and plenty. Phew! And although Andrew has said it's okay for me to blog about, this is all I'm saying about it. It's one of those things that when you bring it up with other couples who have/are experiencing infertility too, you can't help but crack up and share embarrassing stories. As for the general public, we keep it on the down low. :)

Anyway, so here I am, round 3 of Clomid and I'm crossing my fingers. I called my doctor to see what the next step is and he gave me some options, but he basically said, "Well, it's up to you and what your insurance covers or how much you want to spend..." That's the thing...infertility treatments are not cheap and most insurances do not cover the cost, so you really have to calculate what you can and can't afford. Again, frustrating!

So, to all of my readers out there that have/are experiencing this, what tips can you give me? What is the next step? At this point, I'm willing to try anything- holistic or medicinal! What worked for you?

Oh, no! This is a hijack!

OOOOOweeeeeeee baby! A little hijacking going on here!( insert evil laugh)

You forgot to sign out last night, dear daughter, so I will take this opportunity to type up an impromptu post! And it's not even your birthday, hehehe!

Through your travails with infertility you have kept me laughing, albeit, often with a tear in my eye. I know that some may feel uncomfortable with your intimate look at examinations, procedures and body parts, but we are cut from the same cloth and tend to "put it all out there". With that said, I enjoy your candor and I know others do, too. I look forward to the day when, describing your delivery, readers might think, "ewwww, t.m.i!"

Your ability to find humor in the face of disappointment and struggle makes you special. I remember your Young Women's Leaders laughing and loving the way you could smile and laugh while delivering a tearful, heartfelt testimony at girl's camp. I love you for that!

You are tender, hilarious, loyal, intense, hard-working, resourceful and beautiful. Just seven of the hundreds of reasons I love you! Mommaloo

{all this for a baby part 2}

After the vaginal ultrasound from hell, I figured the worst of it was probably over.

Looking back, I laugh at myself for thinking that.

If I could go back in time a few months, I'd council my past self and say something along the lines of, "Oh ye stupid one. This is just the beginning!" and then I'd laugh some evil laugh"Bwah hahahahahaha!!!" I'd also remind myself to drug up before the HSG test.

HSG is short for Hysterosalpingogram, or to the layman, a test that is painful, invasive, and is really expensive and most insurance don't cover. I had scheduled it on a Friday so I could take half of the day off work thinking I'd be in and out of the hospital in no time and I'd start an early weekend. However, my weekend plans were altered a bit when my doctor told me what I could expect of the test. "Some women think it's the worst pain of their lives, and some just think it feels like bad cramps."

Oh, so that's it, huh? I'll either keel over in pain or I'll think it was nothing. How does one prepare themselves for the worst pain of their lives? If it was only as bad as cramps, I knew I could easily handle it, as I've had some pretty bad ones in my life. (You know the kind that knock you over and the only position that makes life somewhat bearable is the fetal position, but it's awkward because you're trying to hold a hot water bottle to your lower abdomen? Yeah, I'm familiar.)
But just in case it was painful, my doctor gave me a prescription for a valium (yup. just one) to help take the edge off & he also told me to take 800mg of ib profin before the procedure. Because you're not supposed to drive while taking Valium, my mom offered to drive me and offer moral support.

When I got to the hospital, I checked in & immediately swallowed my Valium. It didn't take long to kick in and I suddenly felt very, very relaxed. I wasn't nervous at all and suddenly everything was very funny to me. I wanted to laugh at everything and yet there wasn't anything that was particularly hilarious. Weird reaction, right? Then about 5 minutes before the procedure, I realized I had forgot my ib profin. Crap. I quickly rummaged through my purse and all I found was Excedrin Migraine. I figured that Excedrin does an excellent job and soothing my aching head, so why wouldn't it sooth my aching nether region too, so popped a couple of those hoping it would help numb the pain in time.

Next thing I knew, I was called back into the radiology room. Once again I had to undress, but this time there was a bathroom that locked, so I knew there wouldn't be any surprises. (Remember the Hispanic nurse in part 1? There was no "Oh hello!!" this time thank goodness!) The nurse gave me a hospital gown that actually covered everything quite well (no paper towel "blanket")! I tied some oddly placed ties as best as I could so my buns weren't showing and climbed up on the exam table.

As I waited in the room, the nurse explained what would happen & showed me all the tools they'd be using. On the one hand it was nice to be prepared, but on the other hand, all I could think about was the size of the speculum. I'm sure I cocked my head to the side and thought "Hmm..I don't remember it looking quite so big..." because the nurse glanced at it, then back at me, and said, "Oh, that's just what the doctor uses to see inside you." Duh. When the doctor came in, I knew the drill. Lay back, scoot down, and place my feet in the stirrups. And even though I was somewhat mentally prepared, it never gets less awkward having your vajay inches from a strangers face.

The next thing I heard was, "Okay, so I'm just going to insert this speculum and open it so I can get a good look at your cervix..." - That's when the real fun began.

I knew it would be painful, but having someone prob around trying to find the opening of your cervix hurts like a mutha! I immediately tensed up, arched my back, and had a death grip on the sides of the exam table. I think I even yelped a little. This was when I really wished I had remembered the ib profin and cursed the Excederin for not working.

"Just try to relax." I laughed a little when he told me this. That's like telling someone who is deathly afraid of heights to not be afraid while you're standing on top of the Sears Tower. I did my best, but it wasn't until he finally got where he needed to be and closed the speculum a little that the pain was bearable. The rest was a breeze. He inserted the catheter into my uterus & fed it into my cervix. I couldn't even feel that. Then he told me he was going to pump up the balloon in the catheter, which helps push the dye through the cervix and falopian tubes. This part was uncomfortable, but bearable. The next several minutes, the doctor proceeded to take pictures of my innards while occasionally re-adjusting my position...get on your side...get on your other side...get on your back again...I had to bear this a bit longer than usual because he couldn't get my right tube to drain. They had a little screen pulled up so I could see what he was doing and while the dye filled my left tube, the right was blocked.

Before I knew it, the test was over & everything was taken out. The doctor had tried to unblock my right tube, but to no avail. He told me that surgery was an option to open the tube, but because I have one good side, I probably wouldn't have to go that route.

So, I have one good tube and one not so good tube. 50/50. Now we see what happens. I'm sure the worst isn't over. I know there'll be more drugs, more procedures, & probably more waiting, but I'm hoping it'll all be worth it! Giving birth should be a breeze after this, right?

{all this for a baby part 1}

Before I get into what I've been up to lately, I wanted to say thank you for all of your sweet, encouraging, supportive, and loving comments. The love that's been felt is overwhelming we're so grateful for your prayers and sweet words! Mom's surgery went well, but the battle isn't over yet. I've learned that in life, nothing is as ever as easy as it seems. At least in my life. Like, you can't just go on a nice 'n easy road trip and go camping. Nope. In my family, the transmission on the minivan goes out in 90 degree weather in Fresno, causing a 2 day detour in the camping trip. You can't just go in for an easy lumpectomy and be cancer free. And you (and by you, I mean I) can't just make whoopee and get pregnant.

*sigh* There's always something!

The road to getting pregnant has been a winding, uphill battle filled with lots of mood swings (my poor husband), pain, and tears. It is seriously the most frustrating thing I've ever dealt with. Why is it so easy for some people to get and stay pregnant and impossible for others? I could talk about that until I'm blue in the face, but for now, I'll just share a few experiences as of late...

When I first met with my fertility doctor (Dr. Blauer- he's amazing!) he mapped out this big plan for us to follow in hopes of me getting preggers. One of the stops on the plan was to get an ultrasound on day 4 of my cycle. Now, I've never had an ultrasound, but I've seen movies and I basically knew how it worked. You pull up your shirt, they squirt gel on your stomach, and rub a microphone on your belly, right? Boy was I wrong!

When it was my turn the nurse took me back to the exam room. She had a thick, hispanic accent and I didn't really understand when she said, "Okay, so you gottatamponin?"

"Umm...what?"

"A tampon. You gotta tampon in?"

"Oh...umm. Yes. I'm still on my period."

"Thas good. Okay, so go ahead and take it out an put it in there." She pointed to a trash can with a hazard sign on it. I stood there with a stupefied look on my face. Seriously?! Just take it out right here!? She must have read the shock on my face because then she said, "Oooh...okay, you can a use the bathroom if you want."

I used the bathroom and figured that when they did the ultrasound, they didn't want anything in me. "I guess that's normal," I thought. Then I came back into the exam room and the nurse said, "Okay, so go ahead and undress from the waist down and Ima gonna be right back."

That's when a bit of panic set in and my mind screamed "WHA!?" I wasn't expecting to take my pants off. Is this how they're doing ultrasounds these days? My mind was whirling. I had just taken off my undies and hadn't even had a chance to sit on the exam table and cover myself, when the nurse walked back in, seeing me in all my nakie glory. I gasped and quickly crossed my legs and used my hands to cover myself. She scrambled back out of the room, closed the door, and then knocked and re-entered, giving me just enough time to cover myself with the giant paper towel they give you (that barely covers).

The nurse was probably a bit embarrassed (not half as much as I was) because she started talking fast and gave a nervous laugh. "Haha- sorry! Sometimes I tell people, 'Okay, you undress and I be back!' and then I forget how long and come back too quick and is like 'Hello! Oops!"

Yeah- oops! At this point, I was sitting right next to the ultrasound machine and was face to face with a wand that had a giant condom over it. Suddenly, everything made sense and panic set it. "Ohmuhgosh....this is a vaginal ultrasound!?" Surprise! I had no idea. No warning. And I hadn't really prepared for it. Not just mentally prepared, but prepared, prepared if you know what I mean.

By then it was too late for any preparations...mentally or not. The doctor came in & pulled out the stirrups to set my feet in. My heart was beating faster and I felt like the room was spinning. I has worn shoes that day with no socks (hello stinky feet), and of course I'd taken my shoes off when she told me to undress from the waist down, so placing my feet in the stirrups by the doctors face was the last thing I wanted to do, let alone have my who-ha in plain sight too.

Apparently, I was sitting too far back on the exam table because the nurse kept saying, "Okay, scooch down....a little further...a little more...keep coming..." and I moved down until I felt like I was going to slide off the table. I kept thinking, "Why don't they just make the tables small, with a big X where your bum is supposed to go? Why make a big table when you're only utilizing 1/3 of it?"

Before I knew it, I was looking at a screen that showed my uterus and ovaries. I honestly couldn't tell what I was looking at, but the doctor tried my best to point out what we were looking at.

"Here's your uterus," he'd say, pointing to a blob on the screen. "It's a bit tilted, but that's pretty common....Oh! Here are your ovaries!" and I'd see another blurb on the screen. "Hmmm...see these?" I squinted at the screen. I wanted to say no, because I really had no clue what I was looking at, but I said, "Uh...yeah!" as convincingly as I could. "Those are cysts. You have about 25 on each ovary." That explains the PCOS, I guess.

He moved the wand around this way and that, pointed out more blurbs, measured this and that, and then it was over. When they left the room, I got up, got dressed, and couldn't look anyone in the eye. To be honest, I'm not sure if the cysts are a problem. I don't even really know why they scheduled the ultrasound. I plan on asking more questions the next time I see him, but at the time, I was still in shock.

A week later, I was at the doctors again...this time for the HSG test. More on that later. The moral of this story? Be prepared! Not just for natural disasters, but for gynecological surprises too!