September 11th and my infertility journey.

On the morning of September 11th, 2001, I was sitting at home reading a book and enjoying a cup of coffee. Normally, I would be at work. But on that day, my husband had an appointment scheduled with a urologist to take a look at his manly bits. This look-see would involve some anesthesia, so my hubby would need a ride back. The reason my hubby was getting the procedure done was because we were trying to take our fertility under our control. After more than a year of trying on our own, we still hadn't gotten pregnant, so we each went to our separate doctors. My husband's recommended a urologist, and a sperm test. The results were, in a word, dire...plus my husband was feeling pain, so a poke under the hood was scheduled. Unfortunately for my dh, this did not involve a simple wanding with a dildo cam.

So there I was, sitting with my cup of coffee. My husband's urologist had scheduled his procedure on a day where he was lecturing at a conference. Obviously, he had to re schedule. My husband's employer is incredibly flexible about taking time off. Mine wasn't. In 2001 I worked at a living history museum. There were dozens of exhibits, all of them manned by a well trained person. To get a day of in September was murder. I had to find someone who could cover my exhibit who would know what he/she was doing, and who was willing to give up a day off. In the end it required one person coming in on her day off and working for someone in her exhibit so the other person could work mine. Crazy stuff. When the doctor's secretary called my husband to cancel, my husband shrugged and said "whatever". I, however, pulled my hair out and screamed "Are you fucking kidding me?!?" My husband, went to work. And I took my two hard won days off, fuming because I knew I would have to do it all over again in October, one of the museum's busiest months.

I drank my coffee in a dark and stormy mood. The morning was as beautiful as you can get in Connecticut. My husband and I were married in September on the 21st in 1996. In less than 2 weeks we would be celebrating our 5th anniversary. The day we were married had been as beautiful and sunny as that September 11th day. My husband and I rarely got to spend much time together. In fact, we had spent most of the last year apart since he was on a long term travel assignment for work. I had been looking forward to spending the two days off with him, even if one day was going to be spent in a doctor's office and the other tending to my husband and his wounded bits. When I found out the procedure was cancelled, I assumed he would spend those days with me doing something fun, especially on a day that reminded me so much of our wedding day. I felt cheated. And I also felt angry. We couldn't get pregnant, and it looked like my husband may be the problem, and he didn't seem to care a bit. I didn't know what the next step would be, but the word 'IVF' had been hinted at by the urologist, and I was scared shitless.

So I half read my book and half thought about what my future was going to be. Then the phone rang. It was my husband telling me to turn the TV on. A plane had flown into one of the twin towers in NY city. I turned it on to see footage of the tower smoking and people running. Then out of the beautiful blue sky another plane flew in. I think I screamed over the phone, and I could hear my husband repeating what I said to his co workers. Then we hung up. He would continue to call for updates as I sat in my pajamas for the rest of the day glued to the television set.

My husband didn't come home until very late. Highways were shut down and my husband works for a military contractor and everyone was on high alert. When he finally came home I threw myself into his arms, just so grateful that he was home and alive.

As it turned out we did spend the next day together. Dh's work site was in lock down and everyone was home. My hubby's procedure was delayed, and delayed again as elective procedures were cancelled everywhere because of blood shortages because of 9/11. But I had learned a valuable lesson. Whether we had children or not, we had each other, and that made everything else possible.

Frozen in place

I haven't had much to say the last few days. School started on Tuesday, and the boys got ready, ate their breakfast, and got on the bus same as they did last year. It has been raining for days, there is a lot of flooding in the North East, which means that we haven't gone out to play. It is so quiet right now in the house you could hear a mouse scamper across the floor, or a ghost, or a cat if it should run across either mouse or ghost. It has been too damp and dark for my mom to finish painting the parlor (the painting is a birthday gift because she is retired, so she has more time than money). I feel pretty much at loose ends, so to speak. I knew I would.

My mom came over on Tuesday, with the intention of painting, but she stayed to see the boys when they got off the bus. We sat and had a cup of coffee to ward off the chill. She has a way of seeing into my thoughts and knowing when 'something is up'. Maybe all moms do? As we sat, and AK nibbled on her breakfast my mom said "There she sits, your last one. It won't be long before she's off to school, too. Your last baby." Then she gave me one of those knowing mom looks, like she was trying to squeeze a confession out of me. I have a feeling that she knows I don't want AK to be my last, she always seems to know. But I'm not telling.

Right now I'm just frozen in place. I felt good knowing that I had embryos in the bank. But as you know, I tried to make the dream into a reality, and now it's over. Having the chance to get pregnant again feels good sitting in my back pocket. I'm afraid. Who really WANTS to do IVF? We do it because there is not other way, but whose in a rush to actually jump in? I'm not. I thought I would be, but I've got my toes curled around the diving board for dear life. On the other hand, I really want to have another child. And the years between AK and her uncreated sibling are stretching. If I don't do it soon, I won't do it at all. What if I don't do it and my husband thinks I've suddenly gone sane and changed my mind? We can't have that now, can we? So what is going to make me jump? Who will push me?

Goodnight Irene, goodnight Irene

Almost a week without power and I'm finally back. Everyone here is fine,( although a huge tree fell on my brother's house). It is so good to be back in the blogosphere among the living!

I won't talk (much) about what a total, royal pain in the ass it is to have 3 kids 5 and under without running water. Or refrigeration. Or television, microwave, and electric light. I'm sure you can imagine. After a couple of days the bathrooms smell like latrines, even though we had plenty of water in the tub to 'flush' the toilets it just doesn't take care of everything. After three days almost all the food is eaten or no good, and much of the day is spent in lengthy searches for places that still have ice. After four days you stop reaching for the handle on the toilet because you know it won't work and start reaching for the cooler to get the milk instead of the fridge. You start running out of clean clothes to wear, will go anywhere to take a shower, including your MIL's house (that is a WHOLE other post in itself), and you don't want to step into a restaurant again for a good long time.

What I will talk about is how beautiful the stars are when no one in a 50 mile radius has electric light, they look so close you could hold them in your hand. Or that the air for days after the storm had the most beautiful smell of leaves, flowers, fresh cut grass and pure oxygen. And how my house, my wonderful house, didn't even rattle during the storm...it just stood there grinning and said "That's all you got?"

During the day, life was a grind. But the nights were magical. Our house was made for candlelight. The kids were hypnotized by their glow and never wanted us to stop reading to them. My husband and I walked under the stars and talked. He cooked delicious meals for us on the gas grill (while we still had food) and we ate by candlelight. Afterwords we snuggled on the loveseat and read and talked some more, just enjoying each others company. It was like staying at a romantic B&B that we didn't have to pay for. (one without flushing toilets or decent coffee...but you get the picture. Now I know what I'm going to do with all these rooms after we retire and the kids are gone). And the kids? Wow! They were amazing. Especially our little Nate, who doesn't exactly roll with the punches or handle changes in routine very well (he has been diagnosed with a mild form of autism) He dealt with all the challenges thrown at him with aplomb.

And, the icing on the cake. I gained a lot of perspective. It would have really sucked to be in the early stages of pregnancy this past week. Everything smelled bad, and made me gag. Bending over and washing the kids in the little tin tub was hard enough without worrying about what it might be doing to a fetus. Mind you, I would still be happier if I was pregnant right now, but there are worse things in life than not being pregnant, that's for certain.

All in all, life is good. The boys will be starting first grade on Tuesday. And as soon as I walk in the door after getting them on the bus, I'm going to have the phone in my hand calling the clinic about IVF #I've lost count. Weeee....... Sad and happy, happy and sad. It's a roller coaster, and it's all good :)

Baby redeux

First off, I have to say thank you for everyone who has been commenting and helping me through the last few days. Your advice and support has been greatly appreciated. I don't have many followers, but those of you who are here ROCK. Seriously...you all rock.

My husband and I have been together a long time. Seventeen years, to be exact. We went on our first date on June 10, 1994. (Holy crap, I'm old). To say that we know each other well is an understatement. Which is why I was so hurt and surprised when he stonewalled me on the ttc issue. I mean, how could he possibly expect me to stop on one FET when we have two insurance paid cycles still in the bag? It turns out he does know me, better than I know him, apparently.

Last night, shortly after I wrote my last post, I decided I would go and talk to DH again. Before I could start to beg and plead again he said "Ok.....this is what I want." And you know, just like he knew, the first word out of my mouth was "anything." Just tattoo the words SUCKER or EASY MARK across my forehead. Also JERK, because I didn't give him the benefit of the doubt. Because when something means that much to me he always tries to make me happy. And who can blame him for working the system? I'm the one who made the rookie mistake of showing my hand and going all in when I knew he held all the cards. In any case, I'm getting off easy, and I get to try again. And I know my husband's secret, he loves his kids, and he loves babies, and either way he comes out a winner. And I know he's afraid it will work, and I know he's afraid it won't work, and I know he's afraid that I'll end up hurt and broken...because I'm afraid too. And I know he loves me, and he knows I love him, and someday, with any luck, maybe there will be one more of us to love? I know the odds aren't good, but man, right now just the chance to try feels like victory :)

Love has no pride

I am currently hiding upstairs away from my husband. I heated myself up some dinner and crept to the bedroom to eat it alone. I haven't spoken to him since we had our talk yesterday, and right now, I'm not sure when I'll want to talk to him.

I laid out everything on the table. I told him how I felt. And he doesn't care.

The heart of the matter is that the kids make me happy. I feel loved, needed, and appreciated. But not by him. My husband told me that I need to 'get a life'. I thought I had one. I told him that as much as he doesn't want a child, I want another child, and that somehow we have to compromise. He told me that he already compromised by letting me do a FET and that's it.

I respect his position. I do. But I am lonely and I'm sad. And I don't know how I'm going to look at the man who said 'no' to my dreams for the rest of my life. I have to pack up the dream I've held on to for two years now and say goodbye first. But it is so incredibly hard.

I never thought I would get another chance. I didn't think we had the insurance, and there was no way I would bankrupt us for another child. But then I was handed this gift of three more cycles. It is like being handed a winning lottery ticket, but my husband won't allow me to scratch it. I don't know where to go from here.

If I can make it there I'll make it anywhere.

NY NY is a happening town. My friend and I had a great time walking, eating, and trying to see some things that we hadn't seen before. The city is amazing in so many ways. The wildest thing to me is that I've seen New York so much on TV and in movies that walking around there feels a little unreal, like I've stepped through the looking glass. It's almost like if you reach out and tough the walls they'll be made of wood instead of stone. Totally surreal.

My friend and I took the train into the city, then took a subway downtown. We walked around Chinatown looking for a dumpling place she'd heard good things about. We found it, it was a tiny little place, and it was immaculate. I swear we could have eaten off the floor. The food was every bit as good as hoped for, and cheap too.

The weather was strange. Every time we came out of a place, the weather had changed. It was breezy and overcast when we popped into the restaurant, but sunny and hot when we came out. We went into the Asian market, and when we came out it was sprinkling. I swear, all day, different weather. On one occasion we came out of a gallery and it was pouring. Then after two minutes of waiting under an overhang, the sky cleared and it became sunny and hot again. Freaky.

And there were pregnant women everywhere. We went to a fabric and fiber store called Purl and it was filled with nesting pregnant women. Everywhere I turned there was a pregnant woman buying yarn to knit a blankie or fabric for a quilt. Even the woman who worked there that cut my fabric was hugely pregnant. I wanted to be pregnant too...so badly.

Where there wasn't pregnant women there were babies, and toddlers in strollers. Sometimes pregnant women with a friend with a baby in a stroller. I saw a man pick up a stroller with an infant in it, prop it on his hip, and walk up a flight of subway stairs. It made my heart stop for a minute. On the train back home there was a little girl who looked so much like my daughter it made my heart hurt. Then I chided myself for not being able to take a day away from my kids without being sad...and stole another peak at her.

We got back to the train station in CT and there were more pregnant women. The bathroom was full of them. I sat in the stall and remembered the last time I came to NY. I was having my period then, too, and I'll never forget the date because it would be my last period for over a year...the LMP the OB asks for every time you visit. By the next month I would be pregnant with the twins.

I had a great time, but I would have given anything to have been unable to go because I was pregnant. If not that, it would be great to be about to start another cycle. At least the giant boulder of sadness that was weighing me down has become nothing more than a pebble. It is amazing, though, how much a little pebble can rub you raw.

I've got to talk to my husband about trying again. I know it won't be easy. I know he'll probably say no. But I have to try. I just have to.

Bad things come in threes

First off, my period. It sucks ass. It feels like my ute is trying to drop out of my body, and I'm fine with that. Go...just go. If I'm not going to be using you anymore, you might as well get out of here. Don't let the cervix hit you on the way out. My boobs hurt, my head hurts, my gut hurts, I feel nauseous and I'm having hot flashes. It's like my body is trying to be pregnant and go through menopause at the same time.

Second, my glasses broke. The temple snapped off. I am legally blind in one eye, and the other is quite crappy, so I need glasses to see everything. I spent the last two days super gluing the things together and trying to see out of a lens that was smeared with the stuff (and no, nail polish remover didn't get the glue off. bleh) I ended up going to the mall twice to get a new pair. Now I have a sparkly new pair...Yeah! But the left eye is KILLING me. I'm sure the doctor didn't care for the fact that I CAN'T SEE OUT OF MY LEFT EYE. No bumping up of the prescription will help. Trying to correct it will either make me see double and/or give me splitting headaches. If my eye doesn't adjust within a couple of days, that means I will have to go back. I'm not happy.

Third on the list, the minivan is seriously malfunctioning. On the way to the mall yesterday it overheated two times, requiring massive amounts of coolant being thrown into it that was purchased at two separate roadside gas stations. There was no puddles of coolant anywhere, but the back of the van was awash in oily coolant residue. This has led my husband to believe that the van has blown a head gasket. I am not happy about this. I am in fact seething with resentment. I didn't want to drop around 400 dollars for an eye doctor's appointment and a pair of glasses,( which in some weird twist is NOT covered by our insurance, so costs more than our last round of assisted reproduction). I do not want to drop over 600 fat ones to fix the van. I want to try to convince my husband to let me do another round of IVF, which now that our deductible has been met should be cheap. But with these expenses piling up, my husband is just that more unlikely to meet me half way on this...heck he wasn't likely to begin with. These unexpected expenses just leave me with no wiggle room at all.

On a good note, I am getting away with a friend to NYC on Sunday. Here's to hoping that my left eye and my ute start to cooperate with the rest of my body instead of causing me pain. I'm now going to curl up around a heating pad with my eyes closed for a while. Maybe next time I post I won't be feeling so damned sorry for myself. If I am, feel free to kick me in the ass.