Thursday, June 23, 2011

Background - Just over 2000 words...settle in.

I’m going to try and be as specific as I can without completely confusing everyone when I begin to tell the story of my mom’s side of the family. There’s so much to tell and I feel like the background is very important before I get into the wedding details. I’ll try to be brief but once I get going you know how I can ramble. I’m going to change most of the names but since I’m pretty certain that no one knows this blog exists other names will remain intact. Basically so I don’t get confused. Here goes...

My mom got married at the age of 16 to a man that was quite a bit older than her. She had dropped out of school in the 9th grade. She said that it was because she wanted out of the house and saw this as her only option. The man she married was Gary. My maternal grandmother was on her second marriage and my mom was basically raised by her grandparents. My mother’s father was in prison because he raped her when she was 7 years old. I believe this to be the catalyst for about 90% of the messed up-ness of my mother’s life.

According to my mother (the more I write the more you will understand why I don’t take her word at face value) when she went to the doctor to get put on birth control (within several weeks of the wedding) she was already pregnant. At some point late in her pregnancy, her mother got pregnant. So now you have mother and daughter pregnant at the same time. Sounds like a winning combination, doesn’t it? My mother also has a younger brother (I’m not sure by how much) and his name is Joe. My mother claims to have been pregnant with twins. I say “claims” because several years ago I found Tony’s birth certificate and it states that he was a single birth. She says that the twin died right after or just before delivery. The delivery was an emergency c-section...I don’t know why or what happened to cause this but my brother was about 2 months early. I guess it’s possible the hospital did not list him as a twin because the other baby did not make it. I also don’t know why my mother would lie but it would not surprise me in the least. My grandmother had a baby girl and her name was Vicky.

My mom soon left she never loved him but just saw him as her “out”. I’m not sure how long it took but she ended up with some guy named Andy and then not long after that she met my dad. I don’t know how long they were together before she was knocked up with me but I don’t think it was very long. My dad was in the military and had to leave to go serve his solo overseas station for a year. I was 6 months old when they got married. He went to Turkey and left my mom, me and Tony behind. Wouldn’t you know that the guy that lived above us in our apartment killed his wife (so my mom says) and set the place on fire? Enter Tom, the guy my mom cheated on my dad with. He was one of the cops that responded to the call. Apparently he spent a lot of time at our place and with us because my mom says I called him “daddy” before I called my own father that. To top everything off, Tom was married with 3 boys. It just keeps getting better, right? Enter the chants of Jerry, Jerry, Jerry!

My dad comes home from Turkey and finds out that my mom has been cheating on him. I never knew how he found out until I stumbled upon the divorce papers when I was about 11. Tom had his clothes or underwear or something hanging up in OUR bathroom!!! Commence the divorce and fight for custody. While I was growing up my mom gave me the same song and dance....she wanted to keep me but her terrible brother got up on the stand and told all sorts of lies about how she was an unfit mother. She proceeded to tell me that my dad then went to our daycare center and took me without permission and she had no idea where I was or how to find me. As I grew up I slowly learned the truth. I’m not sure about my dad kidnapping me but there was a hearing and I think her brother might have testified against her but that is neither here nor there. When I was a teenager my dad told me that he fought to get my brother from her, too. He lost because he was not the boy’s biological father. And back in 1978-79 when all of this was taking place, the judge must have had some pretty good evidence that I’d be better off with my single father than with my mother and her new man to give him full custody while my mother only got visitation. Since my dad was military and expected to move quite a bit my parents came to a conclusion that I would spend a month in the summer with her rather than going by the schedule the judge set up. I could write a small novel regarding the back and forth years of my life but that will be saved for another time.

Tom divorced his wife to be with my mother....or his wife found out he was cheating so she divorced him, not sure which. My mother and he eventually got married (when my sister was 2 months old) and began their lives together. My sister was born on Elvis’s birthday. My maternal grandmother swears that my mother did this on purpose because my mother’s grandmother was an Elvis fanatic. Whatever the reason, this was the beginning of me feeling like she was “better” and more loved than me. My mother had my younger brother, Bob, when my sister was almost 2. So now all 3 of my siblings (born of my mother) are living with her full time and I’m thousands of miles away...feeling left out. Mind you, I had a great family that I was with but as a kid you perceive things differently.

I began to resent the fact that my siblings got to live with my mother and receive her love and attention. However, when I came to visit in the summers I was given somewhat of a celebrity status. I was the kid that she toted around to “show off” to everyone. When I was little I didn’t understand this but as I got older I hated it. I always felt like the outsider. I spent 11 months out of the year away from these people so I had to reform relationships with them. It wasn’t as hard with my older brother because he remembered me a lot more than my younger siblings. The younger two were much harder to connect with as they barely remembered me from visit to visit. We had such fun in the summers that I didn’t want to leave. I got to eat pretty much whatever I wanted, we swam, we played kickball, we stayed up late, we got ice cream every night, we had a ball. My mom was the coolest person EVER. Boy did I have a lot to learn.

As I and my sister aged I began to really feel inferior to her. She had long pretty hair, she was so smart for her age, she spoke so clearly for her age, she was so pretty...even her name means beautiful. There is one instance burned in my brain that really solidified things for me. We were at my step-father’s company picnic and my mother had taken me and my sister to change from our bathing suits to our regular clothes as we were getting ready to leave. Two teenage girls came in the bathroom and were talking to my mom. They said, “Oh, she’s so pretty!” and then turned directly at me and said, “But not that one.” Ouch. I was probably only 8 or 9 but I remember it like it was yesterday. It’s not like I was never told that I was cute or pretty as a kid, but it’s the times that I was compared to (and felt inferior to) my sister that have stayed with me.

The summer that I was 10 or 11 my mom was preparing for her hysterectomy surgery. She was bleeding a lot and it was decided that her uterus had to go. I was given the task of caring for my younger siblings and making the coffee in the morning and packing my step-father’s lunch. I remember being told how to give my sister a bath and how to wash her beautiful hair and make sure I brushed it just right. Not long before her surgery she was in one of her moods and all us kids were playing in the living room. She came out of her room and took Bob by the hand (he was 3?) and said, “c’mon Bob, let’s go play with this loaded gun I found.” She walked into her room and shut the door. We didn’t take her seriously of course, but it was still not something we needed to hear or be exposed to.

When I was 12 and came to visit my mom I found out that she had “adopted” a 17-year-old girl named Jolie. They met in my mom’s GED class. This girl was a mess but it was not known for a few years just how much of a mess but that’s not something I want to get into. This girl was like my mom’s best friend. They did everything together...including trying to find someone for my mom to have an affair with. They picked someone that was married and had a 1-year-old little girl. My mom was friends with his wife. My mom actually arranged for us to be out of the house for when he came over during the day. He wasn’t there long and I overheard my mom and Jolie talking about it later. Apparently he couldn’t go through with it and my mom was pissed. I was beginning to understand my mother a little and since I didn’t like what I was learning, I chose to just ignore the bad and focus on the good. I found out years later that Jolie was the girl my older brother lost his virginity to (at 14 or 15). She also tried to hook up with the teenage boy down the street but he couldn’t go through with it because she put too much pressure on him and his performance. AND I heard a rumor that she slept with my oldest step-brother (Tom’s oldest son) and got pregnant but didn’t tell him he’s the father. Again, I hear the chants...Jerry, Jerry, Jerry!

Since the hook up with that guy didn’t work, my mom moved onto someone else. She denies it, but my eyes did not deceive me. I was walking down the street and I saw her in the foyer at one of my friend’s house. She was leaning very flirtily against the wall...and then leaning into a kiss with the man standing there with friend’s dad. I couldn’t believe it. Especially when she denied it right to my face. I was 12, who was I to argue with her? I didn’t know what to do so I kept it to myself. Not the smartest but I didn’t want to be the one breaking up the family.

That was the summer she met Billy. Remember that name. He’s very important to the entire history (dysfunction) of this side of the family. He lived next door with his father, step-mother, half-brother and half-sister. He was in his early to mid-20’s. Tony asked if he could go to the store with him and my mother agreed, even though she had just met him. I remember them driving away in a black car. After that summer nothing else would ever be the same.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Catching Up

I’ve been really busy this past week and I have slacked on writing and commenting. I don’t like to get behind...especially on my reading but I’m slowly getting caught up.

I was off Thursday and Friday in preparation for Father’s Day, the LG’s birthday, my SIL’s surprise birthday party and my sister’s wedding. The wedding will be a post all to itself as there is lots to get into about that side of my family.

I had to run around like a crazy person on Thursday morning to take the LG shopping for Father’s day and then get him back to his daycare so that he could go swimming with the other kids. I also had to find him something suitable to wear to the wedding. After that, I had to run around like crazy getting the LG’s gifts and order the balloons for my SIL’s party that night. I had enough time to get all the gifts unloaded from my truck, wrap the FD presents (more on that in a minute) and run back to the store to pick up the balloons and other trinkets that I purchased for the party. She turned 40 so it was a big deal. I then had to run over to the restaurant and help my BIL decorate and get the room ready. Then it was home for just over an hour and then change my clothes and head back to the restaurant for dinner. Whew! I was wiped out by the time we got home that night.

Friday morning was filled with packing for the trip to PA for the wedding and trying to get everything ready and make sure I had everything...dress, shoes, flowers, etc. Trying not to be too much of a panic machine (as I often am when trying to get 3 people ready to go on a trip) as that only adds stress and pisses BJ off. HE’S not the one running around packing 100 different things and the cooler and giving the cats extra food and water and unplugging things and so on and so forth. He just drinks his coffee and picks out his clothes. I hate last minute packing but have learned that with my husband, it’s all he knows.

We drove home after the reception (it actually wasn’t over yet but we had a long drive ahead of us) and didn’t get home until 10:45. We threw everything in the foyer and sat on the couch for a little while before all 3 of us headed to bed. We slept entirely too late on Sunday morning and just felt blah the whole day. We had a present opening bonanza with the LG opening his birthday gifts and BJ opening his FD gifts. I found some really cool camo wrapping paper but of course didn’t realize that the steamer and steamer pot were too much for the little roll of paper. As I was wrapping I had to go down to the basement and get another roll of regular paper. Lo and behold, that roll was almost finished, too! So BJ ended up with 3 different papers wrapping one of his boxes. Ha ha! It was rather comical on Sunday but not so much while I was rushing around on Thursday to get everything wrapped.

The LG’s mom came to get him around 2:00 and then BJ and I went in search of some crabs to steam for dinner. We steamed the crabs (tried to burn them by not getting them in the pot quickly enough and wasting the liquid/steam) and had them and pasta salad for dinner. It was a nice relaxing evening after so much running and rushing around over the past 4 days.

I then came back to work with 77 e-mails waiting for me to read. I have my work e-mail on my iPhone but there wasn’t much I could do with most of them from my phone so they all had to wait until Monday. I’m just now beginning to catch my breath from all of it.

I will get my post up about my sister’s wedding in the next day or so as it will be long. I will try to simplify everything as much as possible but there’s so much to say and to “let out” that it might actually end up being 2 posts. Some of it will come off like an episode of Jerry Springer, but hey, what can you do? You don’t pick your family, right? And you love them anyway...most of the time.  :-)

Tuesday, June 14, 2011


I think I have mentioned this before but just in case anyone is wondering, I do not share well. What’s mine is pretty much mine and I don’t like to give it any way shape or form. This does not include things like trying my dinner at a restaurant, sharing the covers or sharing a bottle of water with my husband. It’s more on a larger scale (or at least that is what I tell myself). Things like the candy in MY Easter basket is mine, right? Same goes with any present that I was’s MINE. It sounds terrible and I’ve gotten better but I still don’t like to share. I hate it when someone sits at my desk on a day when I’m out; things like that.

When I was growing up I had a little brother that was 8 years younger than me. I think this is where my sharing issue comes from. I didn’t want him in my room because he would touch my stuff and it would end up broken or messed up or something. Not that I didn’t love my little brother or like to be around him, he was a toddler and he messed things up and I didn’t like it. My last post let you know how I love my things and how I like to take care of them and be careful with them. My little brother...not so much. I can almost always tell when something of mine has been moved; whether it’s on my desk at work or somewhere at home...If it’s not where I left it or where I think it should be, look out. I am going somewhere with this, thank you for your patience.

It’s so hard to share the Little Guy. I know I’ve been over this 100 times but sometimes the sharing really gets to me. He played in the Little League championship game last night (against his cousin) and they won! It was great. During the last few games of the season and through the playoffs (last night was game 3 of the playoffs) I have been sitting with another mom (the coach’s wife) and chatting and getting to know her better. I really like her. She’s my age, she’s a school nurse and she doesn’t take any crap from her kids or anyone else’s kids. She’s very into sports and that is enough for me to like her right there. We have been stressing together and cheering together and just basically being the CMS (Crazy Mom Section) at these last few games. Before sitting with her I would sit either by myself behind the backstop (I like to see if the pitches are really strikes :-) ) or with Other Woman (Little Guy’s mom). It’s been fine...until I started sitting with Jenny (Coach’s wife). She makes the games more fun because I have someone that is really paying attention with me and we are trying to calm each other’s nerves when one of our boys are either pitching or up to bat (she has 2 boys on the team).

At last night’s game, Other Woman sat with us. Not a big deal. The louder we all could be the better...the more exciting the game would be. We even had signs that another parent printed up. The LG hit a double off his cousin and subsequently got 2 RBI’s...I went nuts! He hasn’t had a great hit in quite a few games and he was due. The chatting and cheering continued and then the game was over. It was OW’s night to have the LG and the team was going to get ice cream afterward. BJ was starving and so was I as there is no time for dinner until after the game so I hadn’t eaten since lunch and it was almost 8:00. OW took LG to join the team. I was disappointed but it was fine. Until this morning.

I received an e-mail from OW asking for Jenny’s e-mail address. They got to talking at the ice cream place and meant to exchange addresses but forgot. I know this sounds petty and totally like Jr. High, but dammit, can’t I even have a “mom” friend without having to share her, too? I am not friends with any of the LG’s friends’ mothers and this was my chance, my IN...And now it’s time for OW to swoop in and take it from me. She knows a lot of the parents because she is able to go to the functions at the school during the day and she goes to his classroom for special events. She should, she’s his mother. Here was my chance...Jenny lives in our neighborhood so she’s just up the was perfect. I could have a “mom” friend and we could get the boys together and hang out every now and then. Like I said, I know it’s petty and pathetic. I’m a grown up and I should stop acting so childish, but I can’t help it. I actually almost started crying when I read her request this morning. Can’t I just have anything that is just mine anymore? Do I have to share everything that deals with the LG? And now for the most childish statement out there...It’s just not fair.

I’m as petty as they get today and I just don’t care.

Monday, June 13, 2011

A Few of my Favorite Things

I’m not much of a material girl, so to speak, but I do have certain things in my life that I really love. Some of these things are luxuries to many people which is a fact not lost on me. I am very fortunate to be able to have the things I have. I’ve always been the type to take pride in ownership. That is something I’m trying to teach the LG. I have listed some of my prize possessions below. Maybe you will learn a little about me after reading the list.

- My new vacuum. It’s a Eureka Smart Air (or something like that). Let me tell you...if you have pets (or even people) in your house you need to get this vacuum. I had a “pet hair” vacuum before and it’s nothing compared to this beauty. I need to empty it after just vacuuming the office and the foyer. And lest you think I’m just exaggerating, I vacuum the entire first floor once a week. The box claimed to suck better than the Dyson and even if it doesn’t, it does an amazing job. It was also over $200 cheaper than the Dyson. I cringe at the thought of what my old vacuum left behind.

- My DVR. I’ve mentioned it here several times in Happiness posts. I love the flexibility it grants us for our TV watching. We have some shows that can be cut down to 35 minutes so we tape them and start watching something trivial on HGTV or something and then go back to the show we are taping about half way through and rewind it. It’s the greatest way to watch TV. And if you watch sports, like I do, and the announcers don’t go back and show you a play that you want to see, just rewind that sucker till your heart’s content.

- My Crocs. I have 2 pair. One pair I’ve had since the Spring of 2007. They are old and really need a good cleaning but they are the most comfortable shoes I have ever owned. I wear them all Summer long and into the Fall. My other pair were purchased last Summer. They are a little more dressy in appearance so I feel better wearing them to work. They are black and gray and have a heel. So’s like walking on a marshmallow. Totally worth the money. I am not a good shoe shopper so to find these wonderful shoes that I can wear for almost half the year is really a good thing.

- My Kindle. I’ve raved about it before on my blog but it really is one of my favorite things. I’ve had it a year and a half and I’ve read close to 40 books. I have a lot of time to read during my long commute on the bus and so I can get through a book pretty quickly. The Kindle is so light and easy to hold with one hand. I read fiction novels and I’ll get more into my reading habits another time, but having the Kindle has been a wonderful thing. It was a very thoughtful Christmas gift from my husband 2 Christmases ago.

- My iPhone. Yes, I’m a techie kind of gal. Another Christmas gift from my husband (this past year). I don’t have a lot of apps on my phone but I really use the ones I have. I have several words with friends (scrabble) games going (including one with the LG), the weather, an air horn, the NHL app, all the Angry Birds games, a talking robot (he cracks me up), google reader and a few more. This is another device that keeps me entertained during my commuting. I love the camera this phone has since I’m a picture taker by nature. And the fact that I can post any picture that I take to FB within mere minutes is awesome in my world. I also love the built in iPod that it having music with me all the time. In the winter, when I take hot baths, I just put it on shuffle and set it on the counter. It makes soaking in the tub not so boring.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

The Power of Music

Sometimes song lyrics can really stick with me. There are some songs that make me think of certain situations I’ve been in or of a certain time in my life. I have some very vivid memories of songs and/or videos from my youth. I can tell you all about the first time I heard Sweet Child O’ Mine by GNR. I can tell you the first time I heard Please Don’t Go Girl by the New Kids (I was a blockhead for a while). I can tell you what scene a song played during in some movies...especially my all-time favorite movie, Dirty Dancing. Some songs make me very happy to hear and others make me cry because they bring up memories of something painful like a lost loved one or a broken heart.

I heard a Kenny Chesney song on the radio the other day that I haven’t heard in a long time. It’s a song that used to make me tear up because it reminded me of my dad and our relationship and it would make me miss him (he’s still alive, just lives far away from me). That song made me tear up for a much different reason the other day. The song is There Goes My Life. If you haven’t heard it, it’s about a young man that gets his girlfriend/wife pregnant when they aren’t really ready. At different stages of her growing up he says the lines that go something like this:

There goes my life.
There goes my future, my everything.
Might as well kiss it all good-bye.
There goes my life.......

I used to think of my dad during that song and how he might have felt when he found out my mom was knocked up with me and then about how he fought for me when they split and then about how he might have felt when I eventually moved out to live with my mom. It’s a very touching song when thought of like that.

Now all I can think about is that chorus and how it sums up how I’m feeling now...about myself and my own future. It sucks to feel like this. I don’t want to feel like my future is over. I have so much life yet to live (knock on wood) and I don’t want to spend it depressed and sad about what I don’t have. I know I’ll get to a point where I will stop dwelling on our loss and I’ll really be able to focus on the future, I just wish I were at that point now. I must think of how much I want to be pregnant at least 20 times a day. I really need something else to focus on but I’m finding it difficult to be interested in much of anything.

I’m doing better for the most part, I really am. It might not seem like it by this post but each day brings me an inch or so closer to acceptance. I have my down moments that can be triggered by anything as simple as a country song to the more blatant things like hearing the neighbor’s 2 month old crying while I’m picking weeds out of my flower bed.

Anyway, I just wanted to come here and let out a little emotion and some of the thoughts inside this crazy head of mine. Thank you all for your understanding and encouraging words. You never fail to make me feel better and “ok” about myself. And I promise that if I feel like I’m slipping away or falling down too far I will seek some help, either with a therapist/counselor or the mighty powerful antidepressant.

Oh, and for anyone keeping track...CD1 was Sunday, right on time. I hate how predictable AF can be when my ovaries have nothing good to give me.

Friday, June 3, 2011


Isn’t it ironic how positive we can sometimes be when leaving comments on other people’s blogs and then turn right around and fill our own pages with buckets of sadness, negativity and depression? Well, that’s what I’m about to do. I left a comment earlier today on a blog stating that I try not to be a “downer” on my own blog too much...blah, blah, blah. Yeah, I’m a hypocrite.

I feel so totally lost right now. I’m not lost in Limboland because that would mean that I’m in between certain situations or events. There’s no limbo involved in deciding (being forced) to stop TTC. It’s pretty final. And it pretty much sucks ass.

I don’t know how to be the woman that is not TTC. I’ll admit that there have been periods of time that I didn’t chart or temp or use opk’s, but I always paid attention to my CM and counted the days to when I thought ovulation would happen and I tried to plan our sex life around those times. I didn’t look at my fertility calendar until earlier this week to figure out when my period would be starting. I never felt myself ovulate so I have no idea where things are in my cycle right now. All of that feels foreign to me...not knowing when I ovulate? Yeah, right. I can usually give you the time of day.

I have done a little bit of research into government trials regarding IVF. I don’t even qualify for any of the local programs because I’ve had 2 failed IVF’s (the one that was cancelled and the BFN in 2009) and I didn’t/don’t produce a minimum of 8 eggs. Many of the other programs/trials are taking place in countries with names that I can’t even pronounce. Dead end again.

I checked the balance of my 401k yesterday as I have not looked at it in quite a while. I told BJ how much was in it and he said, “cool....take out $X and we can get our pool...or empty it and we can get our pool and a baby.” I looked him dead in the face and said, “Don’t think I haven’t already thought of that.” Then he talked reason into me and said that I’d have no retirement if we did that and that 11 years of saving would be gone. I know he’s right and that our future financial situation is very important to us and I don’t think I’d ever really empty my account....but I’ve thought about it.

I’ve thought about anything and everything I can to get my hands on the money for a donor egg program and I keep coming up empty handed. There’s nothing left to do. There is no stone left to turn over. This is the end of the line.

Each day I get up and I go through the motions. I laugh and I smile but it’s not as genuine as it should be. When BJ and I hug or snuggle all I can think about is how badly I want a baby for us. I don’t dare say it out loud for fear that hearing myself say it will trigger a sob-fest.

Only recently have I begun to enjoy food again. I eat because I have to and because it’s in front of me. I’d say in the last week I’ve really started enjoying certain things really savoring the taste. Mostly though, it’s just food and I just keep putting it in my mouth. I’m sleeping fine and I don’t feel tired during the day, which is always good. However, I still just feel like I’m wandering...with no purpose and no destination. I know I have a future but now I know what will not be in it. I don’t like knowing that we are done. I don’t like knowing that there won’t be a baby. I liked it better when I thought that maybe a miracle could happen on its own since there was no real diagnosis. Now that I have a diagnosis all that miracle stuff has just flown out the window.

I put my best foot forward and I keep on going but I don’t know where I’m going. I’m just lost and wandering right now. I’ve always had a plan for if and when but now that I know that if and when turned into never, I don’t know where to go.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Happiness Is...

- Corn on the cob. I love corn on the cob, especially since we learned how to boil fresh corn ourselves last summer. I’m not much of a culinary expert so when I finally figure out that I can do things on my own in the kitchen, I’m pretty happy about it.

- The heat advisory was lifted. I love the hot weather, but not so hot that it’s hard to breathe outside.

- Our lilies are blooming very nicely...the ones we transplanted from the front of our porch to around our mailbox. They look so nice with the coral colored drift roses that I can’t help but smile at them every time I turn onto our street.

- The LG is having a baseball game “under the lights” tomorrow night. Game time is not until 7:00 and there will be an announcer there to announce the starting lineup (which basically means all the kids will get to hear their name announced over the PA system). We are very excited and need to remember to bring the bug spray.

- My little Gizmo climbing up on the couch 2 different times last night to get loved on and to lay with me for a few minutes. He’s not a snuggle cat, as much as we tried to make him one, so these times when he seeks us out to lay with us on the couch are treasured moments.

- Getting on the scale at my appointment last week and being pleasantly surprised by the fact that I am 2 pounds lighter than the last time I was weighed a few months ago. Smaller scale numbers are enough to make anyone happy.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Knowing What I Know Now

I had a very brief stint at being pregnant...I made it to almost 5 weeks. By most people’s standards they probably wouldn’t even consider that a pregnancy. However, I do.

In the time that I was pregnant I noticed a few things about myself. We, as Infertiles, probably notice more changes in ourselves than the average fertile woman. At least, that has been my experience over the years. We notice every little thing; it’s almost an obsession with us. I’m ok with that. At least I was until I lost my pregnancy.

Knowing what I know now has changed how I pay attention to my body. I’m not happy about it, either. I’m on CD25 today and I can’t even begin to tell you the Hell I am putting myself through.

I now know how fatigued I should be.

I now know how my breasts should feel.

I now know how my nose should react to certain smells.

I now know that I should be grossed out by tomatoes.

I’m searching for these things....constantly. I hate that I’m doing this to myself. I hate that I have had thoughts like:

Sometimes your body needs a pregnancy to kick it into gear.

Sometimes people that suffer a miscarriage get pregnant shortly thereafter.

I’ve read at least 6 (probably more) blog stories where women have either a) given up trying, b) quit trying due to RPL, c) failed an IVF, d) just got done with an IVF consult, e) was about to go to the fertility clinic for the first time or f) moved onto donor eggs only to get pregnant NATURALLY and on their own. These are really inspiring stories and I couldn’t be more amazed at the miracles that have happened. The only problem is that these stories give me hope. As I said yesterday, I want to be done with hope.

I want to just move on and forget (get over) my desire to birth a child and be a mother. I want to stop thinking that “it could happen to me”. The likelihood that it will ever happen is pretty much 0% as evident by my long track record. Unless we win the lottery, there will be no more medical intervention so I can count that out as well.

Knowing what I know now makes it harder on me I think. Not only am I trying to figure out if my boobs are sore because of a pregnancy. They were more than sore; they felt very different on the outside. Every time I bite into a tomato I’m hoping that it makes me want to puke. When we walked into 5 Guys on Sunday I was praying that the smell would make me gag. None of this is happening of course. I’m not experiencing anything, really, not even AF symptoms at this point.

BJ and I had some adult fun last night and he said, “We probably missed your time didn’t we?” And I said, “oh yeah, it’s way past ovulation....but I’m not tracking anything anymore so I don’t know exactly when it happened.” Then he said. “Yeah, I guess there’s no point, right?” And I said, “yeah, no point.”

My brain knows that it’s not going to happen. The really sucky part is that my heart has yet to learn how to let go. One month ago today is when I saw that beautiful 2nd pink line. Even though only 1 month has gone by, it feels like an eternity since I was that happy. I’m definitely better than I was but I have a long way to go. Knowing what I know now is not making it any easier to give up hope. All I can do is put one foot in front of the other and keep remembering all the good things I have in my life and that my life is not’s just different now.