10 DPO - Another Imaginative Title

Not a lot to report around here. I haven't had much in the way of symptoms, except for the fact that I did have some twinges over the weekend, which may have been implantation cramping, and may also have been my overactive imagination.

I do realize that "symptoms" is a strong word for any pregancy associations at 10 DPO. I do think that being pregnant as many times as I have been has made me more aware of the subtle changes that start happening, even this very early on. I also know that my husband's nose has not ever been wrong. There has never been a false alarm. So, I know this might also heighten my awareness of what's going on in the netherregions.

I do find it rather interesting that M is more sensitive than any test on the market. I actually think that I could rent him out and make a profit. Hmmmmm. . . not a bad idea, actually. I can just see it now, "Find out as early as implantation."

M is hopeful that this cycle will be "it" for us. I really don't know what my thoughts are on it. I mean, of course, I would love to be that girl, who tried so hard for #1 and got pregnant with #2 on the very first actually trying-again cycle. I would love even more to stay pregnant, because, as I reminded M last night, we don't have the greatest stats with sustaining a pregnancy on our own.

He was a little irritated with me, calling me "negative." I don't think negative is the correct term. I think "realistic" is far more appropriate. After everything we have been through, and considering our post-Will loss in May, I just think it is prudent to prepare myself for the worst. I have a little boy who depends on me not to wallow in post-miscarriage-sadness, which means that I have to keep it in perspective.

Now, again, this is all getting rather ahead of things here. We are only 10 DPO, folks. Just things to think about for the future, whenever that BFP might be.

9 DPO

It's been quite some time since I have had a title with abbreviations in it. Huh.

So, as it proclaims, it is 9 DPO.

Raise your hands if any of you were around for my crazy TTC cycles two years ago?

Crickets chirping? One or two hands tentatively raised? I know there are still a few of you out there, but I know a lot of readers jumped on while I was in my IVF cycle and may have missed the insanity.

For those of you who weren't around for late summer/early fall 2007, you might want to click back and take a look at how insane I was. If you don't want to take the time to read back, let me just remind you that I could take upwards of five tests in a day. I had been known to take a test apart to get a better look at the strip. I climbed into a window one time to get natural lighting for my test gazing.

Am I proud of that woman? Nope.

Am I ashamed that I wasted all of those pee sticks? Yep.

Will it happen again? That is still undecided.

I saw a therapist during that crazy TTC time. I was very honest with her about how many sticks I peed on. Heck, I believe that I even peed on one in her waiting room restroom once (it was a BFN). I expected her to do some aversion therapy, something involving burning the sticks, or maybe wearing a rubberband on my wrist and giving myself a good snap when I had the urge to POAS.

I was surprised when she actually encouraged my behavior. Her view was that while it was definitely a compulsion for me, it was a healthy one in that no one was hurt by it (unless you count the time that I elbowed a lady out of the way for the last FRER at Wal.mart - kidding, kidding. . . ) and that it was a good way for me to feel as if I was actively participating in my cycles. So much of it was beyond my control, there was nothing I could do to really change the outcome. Not that POASing did that, but it made me feel as if I was doing something.

Many people going through infertility turn to self-destructive habits, like drinking too much, narcotic pain medications, excessive exercise to get through each cycle. So, to pee on too many sticks? Little league.

I do not have any sticks in the house. I really want to wait until I am at least late for my period. Even then, as most of our losses have been so early, it would make sense to wait until I was a week or two late, and then I could just convince myself that it was a slightly late, heavier-than-usual period.

Yeah, I laughed just typing that. We all know it will be a miracle if I make it to 14 DPO without testing.

Especially since M says that I smell.

Yes. Yes, It Was.

For those of you that didn't read my last post, it was really a great girls' time away. I highly recommend it. Several people (IRL, not here, of course) kind of made fun of just going less than a half hour away to "get away," but it was truly perfect.

We got upgraded to a suite (in these economic times, people aren't really traveling for leisure) for the same price of our two queen bed room. The suite had a water view and was AMAZING. We watched FOUR girly movies and ate snacks and pretty much camped out in our room all day and night. We did go out to dinner, but we went early to take advantage of early bird specials. Our entire weekend only cost about $80 per person, which included a night in a really nice suite in a gorgeous, five-star hotel with a fantastic meal, snacks, movies, breakfast, parking, etc. Even though we weren't far from our families, we all felt worlds away. We stayed up late watching a movie, but we experienced the luxury of sleeping through the night and sleeping in late. It was a moms' dream come true.

I felt refreshed when I got home today. M and Will had gone to his mom's for awhile and church this morning with friends, so they were busy, and they also enjoyed their time together. I honestly doubt Will missed me at all. He was happy with his Daddy and I think Daddy enjoyed calling the shots for awhile. I think one of the side effects of one parent staying at home is that the parent that is the primary caregiver kind of makes the rules. It's just that I am used to taking care of Will and his needs, so even when M is here, I still assume that role. When I returned today, it was weird to have M telling me when his diaper was last changed, how he slept, and what foods were in the refrigerator for his next meal. But it was a good weird, because M stepped into the role flawlessly and I know Will enjoyed time with his Daddy.

So, here's to a great group of ladies, a relaxing night away, and returning to our precious little ones.

Just What the Doctor Ordered

I am going to away for one night this weekend for a moms' night away with some friends. We have gotten a nice room at a hotel not too far way. We are going to change into our comfy jammies, eat snacks, watch girly movies, and maybe splurge on pedicures!

M will have Will for the first time by himself overnight. I have had Will by myself only a few times overnight, and that was at my parents' house. I think he is a little excited to have him all to himself and "make the rules" for a bit.

I am excited for what is a very much needed rest. I have been sick for over two weeks now. I am past the really sick phase and just in that "can't shake" this part of being sick. I hate this part, since I am no longer sick enough to feel that my messy house is any way justified, but still get tired pretty quickly and don't feel 100%. Will and I had the same virus, but while his went to his sinuses, mine went to my chest. I have a history of asthma, so a chest cold always leaves me with some breathing issues. They are just temporary, but it's annoying in the meantime to get out of breath just from running the vacuum. It does remind me of pregnancy a bit, though!

So I am hoping a weekend of kicking back and relaxing with some good friends will be just what I need to get over the sick hump!

It Just Makes You Laugh

When I read Christy's comment in reaction to my announcement yesterday, where she said not to forget to have FUN as we TTC #2, I laughed. Out loud.

Because, you know, she is right. It's supposed to be fun. And yet fun wasn't even on my radar yesterday. I beat the fun right out of TTC #1. Well, actually the recurrent miscarriages probably did that for me, but I was right behind them with a stick.

I read my oldest posts and I kind of wince when I see the bitterness in those words. I was not a happy girl.

I do not want to go back to those dark days. I do not want to become that girl again.

I am not as unhappy and desperate for Baby #2 as I was for Baby #1. . . at least, not yet. That's what worries me. Fertility treatments become a game, a race, of sorts and what you will and won't do to reach the finish line changes. I can say now, "Well, if it isn't meant to be, it won't happen. . . "

But I also know that once we start TTC and I get more invested, and especially if we lose more babies, I will become more and more entrenched. I just don't want to lose myself in the process.

In Which We TTC... Here We Go Again

Parenthood has rocked our world.

The lingering effects of infertility rocked our world.

Today, we take a step forward.

The combination of an amazing 14 month old (if life is this amazing with one, imagine with two?!), all of our friends jumping on numbers 1-2-or even 3), and just our own desire to build our family. . . has lead to this. . .

We are TTC again.

Big gulp.

May it be so. much. easier. THIS time.

We are going to TTC on our own until February. If we have not had any luck/sustainable pregnancies by then, we will schedule an appointment with our RE.

Double BIG GULP.

Thoughts of My Inner Subfertile

I can't remember which of my blogger friends used the word subfertile (please shout out and I will credit you). I like the term. When I read it, I thought, "Finally, a word that does describe me!"

You see, I guess I could be considered one of them, the fertile. I am a mother after all. I don't really consider myself truly fertile, however, even if I can no longer fit snugly into the infertile category. My precious son is the product of IVF/PGD. To have another baby, I would most likely have to go through a FET. I have battle scars that run deep from my days in the IF trenches.

One of my best girlfriends (who reads this blog occasionally, and C, you know I love you and am so happy for you) just found out that she is pregnant with #2 today and it reminded me how subfertile I really am. Her reaction was what you would expect: a mix of shock, a little fear, worry about money, logistics, and how her husband would react, and happiness. She immediately put her hand on her tummy and started moaning about the weight she would gain and how could she possibly love another baby as much as she loves her darling daughter. I didn't begrudge her any of these feelings. I was jumping up and down at the news and was possibly even initially more excited than she was.

But after I went home, I thought about my fertility - my subfertility, if you will - and felt a little wistful. You see, there is no doubt in her mind that, come June 30th, she will have another baby. She won't obsessively spot check, she won't add "Well, if it works out" to all of her baby thoughts. I am glad for her, I don't wish my fears on anyone. I am just a teensy bit jealous of her innocence.

Her husband was completely unaware of the fact that she thought she was pregnant. I offered to watch their daughter for them tonight so that when she went to pick him up at work, she could surprise him and they could go to dinner to celebrate. I was a little jealous as she drove off, excited and nervous to surprise her husband. M and I will never have that surprise moment again. There is little surprise with IVF or FETs. It's all calculated to the practical minute of when the beta will be called in. Not that the moment isn't special, but there isn't that element of surprise. Or, if we are taken by surprise with a pregnancy, I do not want to celebrate it. We have done that too many times, had our little Hallmark moment, only to have the pregnancy end just a few days or weeks later. Both of us are too gun shy to even think about celebrating a pregnancy at six weeks gestation. I mean, we are thankful for each and every one of our angels and any more precious ones we might be lucky enough to receive, but we can't really celebrate them as another couple might. Any baby that we have, for no matter how long, will be loved like none other, but we won't be getting out the sparkling cider until much further along in a pregnancy.

The differences continued. . .

She called family and friends with wild abandon this afternoon and evening. Literally all of their friends now know about their happy news. A little envy snuck in at the thought of this wonderful confidence. Again, at six weeks pregnant, M and I were barely telling each other about it, let alone spreading the news. Even when we were finally firmly in the second trimester, with tons of good ultrasounds to bolster our belief in the health of our baby, we still hesitated to tell anyone. . . you know, just in case.

The one part of her night that struck a chord of familiarity in me was when she said that she had called one of her friends who has had a miscarriage and has not gotten pregnant since. She said that she was pretty sure her friend was crying by the end of their conversation. That was the woman that I identified with, the only part of her "finding out" moment that I really felt that I understood.

The happiness, the carefree part of pregnancy doesn't really apply to me. Not that I didn't enjoy my pregnancy with Will. I did, especially as it continued. But the beginning, those days of not knowing and living every moment in fear, yeah, I didn't really enjoy that part. Seeing my friend living that joy made me so happy for her, and yet a tiny bit sad for me. I would not wish her any of my subfertility, but did wish myself just a tiny bit of her fertilty.