Originally I had written a piece, in the midst of deep hurt and anger, on the day we found out. It's very raw and doesn't mince words. I'm grateful that I wrote it, despite it being hard to read at certain times, because it reflects me at that moment. But I don't want to share that, it's something just for me. And so I present to you: a less emotional, shortened (to a degree) spiel on the most taxing chapter of my life.
    Graham and I went in the office for our first IVF on January 30th- which means we had implanted 5 day old embryos into my uterus to be considered pregnant until proven otherwise. I didn't hold much stock that it would work, so I resisted testing for almost a week. One morning I decided ample time had passed, then I quickly took one, covered it up and kept about my daily routine. After a few minutes I remembered to check it. On a beautiful Sunday morning at 8am on February 5th, just 3 days after Graham's 30th birthday, I stood in shock over a POSITIVE PREGNANCY TEST. Positive! The first sign of life for OUR BABY! FINALLY, A BABY!!!
    When I shared the news, Graham was stupefied (like myself) and we hugged for the longest time before staring at the test again. Euphoria ensued. It was real; my clinic called a few days later to confirm through my bloodwork. We were congratulated and asked to come in at 6 weeks for a ultrasound to check up. The happiest days of my life commenced- Graham and I were gifted the most wonderful, sought after thing imaginable. I'd put my hand over my lower abdomen knowing that I would give all of myself to the tiniest member of our family. I tried my very best to keep it as discreet as possible, our little poppy seed, bubbling with pride and love.
     February 22nd we walked into the clinic, camera in tow. I couldn't stop crying before they even started. After careful checking we were told there was no sign of life, that I'd likely miscarried before coming in. My heart, freshly mended, broke once again, but in an indescribable way. How I grieved in the unfairness, the misery and the downright terribleness of it all! My desire to keep trying, my faith in the process dwindled. I felt like I had reached a point where I couldn't return from. It was so hard. It IS so hard.
     I am so sorrowful for this lost child of mine. I am so sad to know that we will never know one another. I am so disappointed in the fact that my struggle is not over. Learning of possible chromosomal abnormalities, knowing that I can now get pregnant, being asked to get past this experience in lieu of a better one to come- these are made up of empty words. I wanted that baby.
    I am coming around to the idea that it will be okay. Not that I will miraculously get over it, but that I can live with this. There are still many relapses, which may be an eternal consequence, but I'm pushing through with as much clarity as possible. I am coming to understand that comfort comes in so many different forms and from so many different people. I am learning that I can use my experiences to wallow in the pity that I feel or to benefit others, in any capacity. After all, to have this baby I have went through unassisted help, Clomid, Letrozole, IUI and IVF. I have had successful and cancelled cycles, Ovarian Hyper Stimulation, egg retrievals and embryo transfers. I have taken birth control, pills for ovulation and uterine lining thickeners and to suppress my ovaries. I have taken injections full of stimulants in my rear, stomach, back and arm for weeks without end. I have went in for blood draws for days in a row and more than forty ultrasounds. I have went through important tests and several minor surgeries. I have taken many negative pregnancy tests and one positive test. I have experienced being pregnant and losing that pregnancy. We have literally done it all in the realm of infertility. There must be some good that can come of this. I have to believe there must be. I will make it so, as to the best of my ability.
    I, once again, need some down time and will not be updating on this part of my life for awhile. It's too demanding emotionally to share the ups and downs. I am so grateful for the love and compassion that has always been extended to us. It's that much easier to make it through, so thank you. Yet, there is no one who cheers me on and makes my days worth living like my Graham- my love for him knows no bounds. He will make the most wonderful Dad, partially because we have truly went through hell just to make him one.

    To my sweet baby: You were mine, and that made you some kind of special. I don't have the adequate words to express how much I miss your presence. You made me want to be better in every sense of the word. Thank you for inspiring joy in our lives. You confirmed the belief, that I had always feared wouldn't be possible, that I could actually become a Mother. You made everything worth it. Your father and I loved you yesterday, love you still, always have, always will.

3 weeks, 6 days pregnant

Psychotic and Emotionally Driven

    When I was a little girl I had a specific fear. Like most bizarre phobias do, it had snowballed from a scene from a Lifetime movie. The plot was based on a man who would lure young, beautiful girls onto his boat and when he was finished with them he'd tie a cinderblock to their leg and let them sink to the depths of the ocean. Lately I'm the young girl and my life is the cinderblock, only I'm still trying to decide if there is only one man trying to axe me off or a few.
    I've been dealing with a ton of emotional baggage, my face broke out from stress, a fever blister showed up only to be gone one day for another to take its' place only to be finished for another to take it's place, I keep one red eye because my last contact has a tear in it, my allergies caused my sinuses to be clogged, I have little to no motivation to go to work and leave the sanctity of my home, I was asked to do something that I feel drastically underprepared for and my husband is stressed to the max himself. I'm drowning in things that I can't control. Add the fact that I need to be in control at all times and you've got yourself one psychotic, emotionally-driven gal.
     You know how sometimes it just happens that way? It's bad bad bad bad bad bad then finally out of nowhere it starts getting good? Yeah I'm somewhere in the 'bad' stage waiting on the 'good.' It, for sure, forces me exercise my patience and my faith- both of which I should get better at.
    Well that about sums it up. I'm just waiting for better days, and traveling in between. In all honesty, that is the only thing that makes my life seem fun. Everything else is incredibly mundane, but I know we all go through periods of that. So in short, I hope you weren't prepped for a great story of heartache followed by a solution, I wish I shared more of those- my only advice is to have a great person as a friend to help when times are tough and do something fun when you're down. That's as deep as it gets, sorry ya'll. For now, here is a bunch of recent pictures of Graham and me at Walt Disney World. My gosh, I love and miss that place.