The last couple of weeks have been a loopier and curvier roller coaster than usual. I had an anniversary on Monday, January 19th. Not the kind of anniversary that you look forward to and celebrate. Like other anniversaries, it is one that comes every year, but not one you pencil in on your calendar. You don’t need to pencil it in because it is burned into your heart forever.
I started my 20th IUI on 5 January 2015. Immediately following my appointment, I went to my calendar to see when my day(s) 28 and 29 were. I usually start on day 28, so if I don’t start on day 28 I will take a test on day 29. My day 29 was January 19th. As soon as I saw this, my heart started racing…almost beating out of my chest. God welcomed my angel on January 19, 2014. I thought this was a sign. I was going to get a positive this January 19th and this day would get a new meaning for me. It wasn’t going to be so dark and dreaded for me anymore, because I would be able to celebrate life beginning on this day. During my two week wait, I was so hopeful. I just thought that this was meant to be. Finally, I was within just a few days and I got super anxious. By day 28 I was going to the bathroom every 30 minutes to check to see if my visitor had arrived. I had made it through day 28 and I still wasn’t having any immediate signs that I was going to start. I had the day off for MLK Day and I was meeting some of my girlfriends for lunch. Right before I left, I started cramping. I went to the bathroom and I was spotting. I totally lost it. I pulled myself together long enough to meet my friends and not be the “Debbie Downer” during our sushi lunch. When I got home, I just cried and cried. When Trav called me on his way home, I completely broke down and I continued to cry all night long. I did the usual, “Why me?, Why now?”. The only thing that does is make me more depressed. Luckily, I don’t have a lot of time to dwell on my latest disappointment because I have to start thinking about my next treatment cycle. I went for my baseline ultrasound on January 22nd and jumped right into treatment cycle 21.
I love the staff at my fertility office. I really feel like they are rooting for me and genuinely care about me as a person. Each time I have an IUI they all tell me they’ve got their fingers crossed for me and when I come back for my next baseline ultrasound because the treatment didn’t work, I can see a look of disappointment on their face. This last time I went in, my nurse joked about how she needed two hands to carry my chart and how I would soon become a “2 charter”. She totally meant well and was trying to make me laugh. The truth is, it was just another reminder of how long I’ve been doing this and the amount of times I’ve put myself through this disappointment. My 8 inch thick chart is documentation of my 21 IUIs, my 18 negatives, my cysts that hold me back from treatment, my miscarriage. It tells my story from the day we got our diagnosis to now. It also holds the first ultrasound pictures of Poppi. It isn’t all bad and I believe there is still time for my story to have a happy ending.
After some time and reflection, I accepted that no matter what happens on January 19th from here on out, it will always be the day I miscarried. Even if I would have gotten a positive that day, it would still be the day in 2014 that I lost my second child. Nothing will ever change that. I will never forget that day, because it’s not meant to be forgotten or replaced.
Early last week Poppi was sitting on her changing table and I was getting her dressed. She looked at me so serious and said, “my heart hurts” as she put her little hands on her chest. I kissed her “boo boo” and asked her why her heart hurt and she was just kind of quiet. A few seconds passed and then she says to me, “I want a sissy”. It took everything I had to not completely break down in front of her. Was my pain and heartbreak resonating on her? Could she feel what I felt? I gave her a hug and told her momma was trying and the next words out of her mouth were telling me she wanted to wear her boots. That made me smile. I have no idea what triggered her to say those things and I have no idea if the two comments were related in her mind. Maybe I didn’t even hear her correctly. What I do know, is I’m going to keep moving forward. I’m going to keep getting treatments and I’m going to do whatever it is I can to grow our little family. As of right now, it seems like Poppi supports that idea. Although we will see if things change when there are a pair of tiny hands reaching for her prized possessions.
I started my 20th IUI on 5 January 2015. Immediately following my appointment, I went to my calendar to see when my day(s) 28 and 29 were. I usually start on day 28, so if I don’t start on day 28 I will take a test on day 29. My day 29 was January 19th. As soon as I saw this, my heart started racing…almost beating out of my chest. God welcomed my angel on January 19, 2014. I thought this was a sign. I was going to get a positive this January 19th and this day would get a new meaning for me. It wasn’t going to be so dark and dreaded for me anymore, because I would be able to celebrate life beginning on this day. During my two week wait, I was so hopeful. I just thought that this was meant to be. Finally, I was within just a few days and I got super anxious. By day 28 I was going to the bathroom every 30 minutes to check to see if my visitor had arrived. I had made it through day 28 and I still wasn’t having any immediate signs that I was going to start. I had the day off for MLK Day and I was meeting some of my girlfriends for lunch. Right before I left, I started cramping. I went to the bathroom and I was spotting. I totally lost it. I pulled myself together long enough to meet my friends and not be the “Debbie Downer” during our sushi lunch. When I got home, I just cried and cried. When Trav called me on his way home, I completely broke down and I continued to cry all night long. I did the usual, “Why me?, Why now?”. The only thing that does is make me more depressed. Luckily, I don’t have a lot of time to dwell on my latest disappointment because I have to start thinking about my next treatment cycle. I went for my baseline ultrasound on January 22nd and jumped right into treatment cycle 21.
I love the staff at my fertility office. I really feel like they are rooting for me and genuinely care about me as a person. Each time I have an IUI they all tell me they’ve got their fingers crossed for me and when I come back for my next baseline ultrasound because the treatment didn’t work, I can see a look of disappointment on their face. This last time I went in, my nurse joked about how she needed two hands to carry my chart and how I would soon become a “2 charter”. She totally meant well and was trying to make me laugh. The truth is, it was just another reminder of how long I’ve been doing this and the amount of times I’ve put myself through this disappointment. My 8 inch thick chart is documentation of my 21 IUIs, my 18 negatives, my cysts that hold me back from treatment, my miscarriage. It tells my story from the day we got our diagnosis to now. It also holds the first ultrasound pictures of Poppi. It isn’t all bad and I believe there is still time for my story to have a happy ending.
After some time and reflection, I accepted that no matter what happens on January 19th from here on out, it will always be the day I miscarried. Even if I would have gotten a positive that day, it would still be the day in 2014 that I lost my second child. Nothing will ever change that. I will never forget that day, because it’s not meant to be forgotten or replaced.
Early last week Poppi was sitting on her changing table and I was getting her dressed. She looked at me so serious and said, “my heart hurts” as she put her little hands on her chest. I kissed her “boo boo” and asked her why her heart hurt and she was just kind of quiet. A few seconds passed and then she says to me, “I want a sissy”. It took everything I had to not completely break down in front of her. Was my pain and heartbreak resonating on her? Could she feel what I felt? I gave her a hug and told her momma was trying and the next words out of her mouth were telling me she wanted to wear her boots. That made me smile. I have no idea what triggered her to say those things and I have no idea if the two comments were related in her mind. Maybe I didn’t even hear her correctly. What I do know, is I’m going to keep moving forward. I’m going to keep getting treatments and I’m going to do whatever it is I can to grow our little family. As of right now, it seems like Poppi supports that idea. Although we will see if things change when there are a pair of tiny hands reaching for her prized possessions.