Saturday, January 8, 2011


I had forgotten how exciting it was to have a new blog! You know that feeling? Where you have a lot to say and a blank page to say it on? It actually inspired me to go back and read some of my original blog entries here, too, just as a reminder of where I've been.

I'm going to be really honest here. Once you get to the other side, it's easy to "forget". Not that I will ever forget my angel babies, not that I will ever be able to look at conception and pregnancy in the same way, but you do tend to forget how bad it was, how all-consuming, how painful, how deep it cut. It's part of being human. We move on, whether we want to or not. But there are times, when I remember all too often, how much it hurt.

Reading some of those early entries was one reminder this week. Another was when I went into my shoe closet to grab some shoes I hadn't worn in over two years. This was clearly evidenced by what I found in the toe of the left shoe.

Two pee sticks.

To understand why pee sticks would be in the toe of one of my shoes, you probably have to have been around reading the good old blog back then. I was insane. I was obsessed. I couldn't pee on enough sticks. It was as if I could somehow control the outcome if I knew the second there was enough HCG in my system to detect a pregnancy.

My husband did not approve of this addiction. He was okay with me taking a test if my period was a day or two late. But when Aunt Flow was more than a week off, he could see no point in wasting my time, emotions, or money. A sane person would have agreed.

I was not, in any way, shape, or form, sane.

So I grew to hide my addiction from him. Wonderful, no?

Our master closet is right off the bathroom. My shoe organizer hangs from the inside of the door. It was a great place to shove a pee stick if the bathroom trash was empty (no wrappers to bury the sticks under) and my husband was around at the time of a peeing. Plus, you know I always broke the rules and looked past the time limit, so it was just more sanitary to reach into the shoe organizer rather than dig through the trash.

Seeing those pee sticks, yellowed with age, and no longer relevant in my world today, brought some old feelings bubbling to the surface. Anger, grief, embarassment, and finally, relief. I am so glad and grateful that I am not in that place anymore. It also made me ache, because I know there are still those waiting to move beyond that spot. Right now, there is someone, somewhere, staring a pee stick, willing it to show her hopes, dreams, and future, all in the form of second line or digital PREGNANT. Someone, somewhere is staring at red on the toilet paper, feeling their heart in their throat, as they realize that this "isn't right" and their baby isn't going to be born on the due date circled in their minds.

It is generally best to look forward. Looking at the past doesn't usually serve much purpose. However, there are time when a reminder of where we've been is a good thing. It keeps us thankful for the present that we have.


Rachel said...

I only had one cycle in this apartment with my husband around (since I was living alone abroad for cycle #1) but I still find pee-sticks stashed in toiletry bags and purses around the apartment. Although we are now most of the way to the other side (meaning that we're not done forever with TTC, but we have been very, very, very lucky along the way) I am still not sure that knowing the outcome would have eliminated all of the pain along the way.

HereWeGoAJen said...

I had a similar addiction. It was actually hard to throw those things away later when I found them.

Searching said...

I am so thankful you are beyond that particular time and am encouraged to know that it hurts less with time. All my pee sticks are long expired but I still use them. Silly, ridiculous me for thinking buying them in packs of 20-50 was a smart thing. There should be a recovery group for the Sisters Who Bury Pee Sticks. ;)