Author: Tiff

Yesterday was my birthday, I turned 33.

Which doesn’t seem that old, but in terms of reproductive health it is ancient.
You may as well just take me out back and put me down.

Brandon kept asking me what I wanted this year for my birthday, and all I found myself thinking was “a baby”.

I cannot express how defeated I felt, knowing that if we were to try again to have a baby, my physical health is so poor that I’m probably a year out from even TRYING to conceive.
But a year out will put me at 34 years old… when I START.

There are many studies out there, but most people agree that the age of 35 is some kind of magical cutoff date for conceiving and birthing a healthy baby with no complications or disabilities.

Medical professionals even change the classification of your pregnancy if you are over the age of 35 and you may be shocked to find terms written in your medical chart such as geriatric pregnancy, advanced maternal age (AMA), elderly primigravida or elderly primipara. And no matter your personal health, you may have our pregnancy classified as “high risk” if you are over 35 years of age.

Author Connie Mattiessen defines the struggle in her article on BabyCenter: Age and Fertility- Getting Pregnant in your 30s. She states, ” Overall, in your 30s you have about a 15 percent chance of getting pregnant in any single ovulation cycle, according to leading fertility specialist Sherman Silber, director of the Infertility Center of St. Louis at St. Luke’s Hospital in Missouri and author of four best-selling fertility books, including How to Get Pregnant. Your chances of conceiving within a year are about 75 percent. But fertility wanes as you age, so in your late 30s, your chance of getting pregnant within a year drops to 65 percent Similarly, miscarriage risk rises slowly during the early 30s, but increases quickly during the mid to late 30s: The risk is 18 percent at age 35, but it increases to 34 percent by the early 40s. “

As someone who has already struggled to become pregnant only to watch the lines fade and hope shrivel away time and time again, the thought of forging on into my late 30s terrifies me.

My husband and I have honestly stopped keeping track of the monetary amounts we have spent to attempt to build our family, but I would estimate that we are probably somewhere around the $15,000 mark.

I cannot fathom spending thousands more dollars at this point, I’m just frankly exhausted.
It’s a little like playing the lottery and sinking my entire life savings into it only to come up empty-handed with no hope for the future.

On top of all the dollar signs and all the life we’ve missed out on living while we sat in various doctor’s office waiting rooms, emotionally we are just drained.

We have endured 4 cycles of IVF, 6 IUIs, 3 ICIs, and 2 at home IUIs (Which is a story for another time, but don’t be like me; I’m a crazy person. Do not put the catheter in your cervix.)

Although technically three pregnancies were achieved out of all those months and all those thousands of dollars spent. For the three total pregnancies I only experienced one bout of morning sickness, I never really got to FEEL pregnant. I never saw a baby on an ultrasound screen, I never heard a heartbeat.

Essentially, I basically just experienced three late periods.

For years I have tried everything to build a family. I’ve dieted, I’ve prayed. I’ve done the tests, and I’ve endured the treatments. I took the vitamins, and I’ve made sacrifice after sacrifice, concession after concession to just get that small GLIMPSE of success.

My anxiety and my depression are at an all-time high, followed closely by my weight.
At 5 feet, 5 inches tall I weighted in at my highest weight at 236 lbs.
I went to a weight loss specialist and was given a diet plan that I think is probably nearly impossible to follow.

He suggested that I follow a 1500 calorie diet, eating 90 grams of plant-based protein and 90 grams of healthy carbohydrates a day. And he prescribed me to walk 10,000 steps every single day and come back to see him in 2 months, where he expects that I will have lost 20 lbs at least.

The worst part though was that he told me he wanted me off of all anti-anxiety medications.
Medications, that I should add, I had only just started taking a few weeks prior.
When I told him that my anxiety was a large factor in my weight gain, as I am an emotional eater, he told me I would be “allowed” to continue my meds for 3 months, and then he would expect me to come off the meds.

I know that people who don’t struggle with anxiety and depression don’t understand, but I NEED those medications.
I was having trouble working an entire shift and was on the verge of a panic attack most days.
I was having thoughts of self harm, and I was lying to my doctor about having thoughts of suicide.

I will not be quitting my meds.
It’s worth it to me to have to work a little harder to lose the weight if my mental health is being protected.

I was so stressed and defeated after that appointment; I went to Arbys.

In November of this year B and I started going to the gym 4 times a week which is a heck of a start for me, but I still need to commit to a diet to initiate the weight loss I need to achieve before I’ll allow myself to TRY again.

Because being overweight puts me at a significant risk of miscarriage as well.
As though I don’t have enough to struggle against.

I plan to try Keto again for two reasons: First, that it works well for me to remove bloat quickly which lets me focus on the fat I need to be losing. Second, because I suspect that I may have undiagnosed PCOS, which a Keto lifestyle can help reverse.

In addition, I think I’ll add CoQ10 and Myo Inisotol back to my routine, to improve my ever-declining egg quality.

If all goes according to plan, I may be at an acceptable weight in late 2020 and might be able to try again.

I hate that I let myself get this obese, and because of it I’ll be trading a risk of miscarriage with weight as the primary factor for a risk of miscarriage with age as the primary factor.

I hate it, but I wonder if maybe I am doing it subconsciously to STOP myself from trying.
because if you cannot try, you cannot fail.

I probably need therapy, but I’ll settle for writing it down.
Nothing like documenting your crazy for an internet full of judgemental strangers.

I’ll try to keep you updated on my weight loss attempt and whether we try again.
Until next time,

xoxo
ME

My sister is having a baby today.

At first I thought I was angry. I thought that was what I was feeling.
I have the right to be angry with my family.

My dad cut me out of his will, leaving everything to my sister. As though my brother and I don’t exist.
The worst part if that is that he didn’t do it maliciously, he just didn’t think of us at all.

In May, my mother wrote me a very hateful and accusatory text message when I didn’t feel up to a mother’s day bbq.

Because it doesn’t matter how much pain I’m in.
It doesn’t matter that last mother’s day I was experiencing my last miscarriage and have thus far been unable to conceive again.
I should be celebrating her dammit.

I made her a mother’s day gift, but she never told me if she opened it.
I never got an apology, but when she made my sister mad about something petty she apologized that day and is changing her entire life.
So yeah, I’m a bit mad about that.

Then a few days ago Facebook popped up with a memory, a video of me editing my Niece’s newborn photos 4 years ago on that day.

I made the mistake of sharing it with my friends.

My sister sent me a text message a day later accusing me of telling the world her business and letting her husband’s psychotic family find out that she’s being induced.
Which, I understand her fear- they caused a massive scene at my niece’s birth.

As you can see, I did not mention an induction, only stupidly mentioned a number of days. Mind you, that’s until I guessed she’s be born, not when she my sister is going in for induction.
Thus my anger, this is the second time in two weeks that I’ve gotten in trouble for posting on facebook… which is super ridiculous because I’m almost never on there and haven’t been for months.

But whatever, I’m a Facebook airhorn. I may have to post this- my secret blog, on facebook because I just cannot control myself.

So then after marinating for a couple of days in anger and feeling all my feelings about how much I just want to say screw everything and disappear, I ran out of steam.
Then I started to think I was maybe not angry.

This revelation came this morning when my husband came into my office to tell me about the latest episode of Chernobyl where they showed “the liquidators”.
Long story short, people couldn’t take their pets, but the animals couldn’t be left alive to possibly spread radiation outside the exclusion zone.
I googled it, it was a real thing.

So then there I was, mourning these pets that have been gone for 32 years.
And about that time I realized that I was sad.

My baby sister is having a baby today.
Her second baby.

And I am not having a baby.
And likely never will.

xoxo
ME

I don’t even know where I left off– I think it was about 10 days into a tww.

Well, you didn’t miss anything, I wasn’t pregnant.

In April I had the epic adventure of at home IUI, which I have been meaning to tell you about but frankly haven’t felt up to writing.

In may I ovulated ON my 12th wedding anniversary, but we had a holiday world trip planned for June with my entire family and I didn’t want to be pregnant and have to tell people before I was ready, so I didn’t even try.

Go figure, I had a perfect ovulation right on time.

This month I decided to try again, another cycle of at home IUI.

I called the sperm bank and scheduled our shipment. (which costs a small fortune)
The bank does not ship friday for monday or saturday for monday, so my options this month were to ship thursday for friday (my CD12) or monday for tuesday (my CD16). Since I almost always surge cd 16-17 and ovulate cd 17-18 I felt okay ordering my shipment to be delivered tuesday, as I should surge that day or the next- perfect timing right?

Nope, screw my stupid ovaries.
Today I woke up and all was well, I had a negative ovulation test and was thrilled that I’d surge right on time.

About 10:30 am whilst making my dad’s father’s day gift I had a massive surge of cervical mucus and my abdomen/ovaries started aching.
shit.

I took an aspirin and headed off to my dad’s house where I got to spend 2.5 hours staring at my little sister’s perfect 31 week pregnant belly.

When I got home, I rushed to the bathroom to take a second test, the pain and pressure in my abdomen was still great.

Positive.
FUCK.

So now my options are:
1)cross my fingers and PRAY that the bank does same day shipping and I can get my shipment tomorrow night.
2) wake up and drive 4 hours one way to the bank, inseminate myself in my car, and then drive 4 hours home.

I can’t even.
My stupid ovaries have totally screwed me, yet again.

I guess I’ll let you know what happens.

xoxo
ME

No, you didn’t miss anything, I just didn’t feel like writing. 

Surprise!

Yeah not really,  I’m not surprised anyway.
If you are,  well… um… sorry?

I really tried to remain optimistic,  because the lucky penny ya’ll.

B was so hopeful as well,  talking about driving home thinking to himself how HE MIGHT BE A DADDY SOON.

But alas, it was just not meant to be.
Again.

I kept meaning to write this blog, for WEEKS.
But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.
To sit down and put all that heartbreak on metaphorical paper.

I really just thought (naively) that if I SAID this was my last try and I wasn’t going to do this anymore that God would be like “I got you girl,  right in the nic of time!”

You know, the real surprise here is how I have any naivety left in me.
You’d think I’d have gotten that ot if my system by now.

Anyway,  despite the lucky penny, and the fact that I always got pregnant on my second iui and this was my second month on clomid in a row (we didn’t get to inseminate last month remember? Because sunday)

Despite the parking space and the avoidance of traffic at the last minute.

It was all for nothing.
Again.

I honestly just WANT to give up.
But thinking about giving up makes me SO anxious.

I want to be that person who says “we just gave it up to God and let him take us on the path that he meant for us”

Guys, I can’t.

If I give it up to God, I already know his answer is NO.

And I am not ready to give up,  in the off chance that he just needs me to fight just a little longer.
That this is all part of my journey.
That my showing faith is to keep going instead of to stop fighting.

I want to give it up to God, all the stress and pain….But before I do that I need to know that God’s plan is the same as mine.

I’m asking him to conform to MY timing and MY plan,  and I know it’s not fair but I just can’t get to a place where I can accept that my journey is just not going to end the way I want.

So,  here I am.
Not pregnant.
Again.

Yay, Holidays!

xoxo
ME

So damn. 

Today is 1 week from my iui, and I feel like my hellbeast of a period is on her bitchass way.

I don’t really have a lot of “symptoms” per se,  but what I do have are very  “eff you Tiffany”.

For instance, exhaustion and irritability.
Definitely precursors to my menstrual cycle.

Since yesterday,  6dpo, I’ve been warn out, irritable, and generally crampy.
And I have another week to go, yippee!

I wish I could be like these other crazy Bs on the interweb googling symptoms and peeing on everything in hopeful anticipation….

But that’s not me this month.
I’m over it.

So now I’ve trapped myself in this freaking place where I TOLD B I WAS DONE AFTER THIS CYCLE but I didn’t get pregnant. And DAMMIT I don’t want to give up!

I 100% DO want to give up, but I just CAN’T.
I’m so close! Soooooo close!

So, now I get to decide if I’m a lying liarface or if I’m going to stop this desperate struggle that has consumed my entire life for years.

I hate that I feel like I didn’t get a good try this month.  Like I was set and ovulated great and all that, but the nurse that did my iui was the gal that did my first iui. And I feel like she doesn’t get the sperm up IN my uterus.  Like,  it feels like it all leaks back out.

It doesn’t happen with other practitioners,  I think maybe she just sucks.
And I hate that I have to pay them $200 for essentially an ICI which could be done at home.

Whatever,  I’m just depressed and whiney.
I hate that I have to stop when I didn’t achieve my goal so to speak.

It’s so hard to shift my focus,  after this has been my sole focus for so so so long.

7days until af.

*sigh*

xoxo
ME

At last. 

For the second month in a row I got a blaring positive on the wondfo ovulation tests and not even a flashing smiley on the Super Pricey Clearblue Advanced Digital Ovulation tests.

I was so nervous today that it would show a flashing smile,  indicating an uptick in estrogen which would mean I ovulated yesterday.

Thank goodness though,  not only was it a blank circle,  but my temperature dipped today… TODAY IS OVULATION DAY!

Today-  October 31st, 2018 – I woke at 5am to drive to St. Louis to be inseminated like a prize cow.

Finally,  the two week wait begins.

The weather was dreary as I embarked on what I hope will be my last quest for fertilization.
Storm clouds rolled,  thunder boomed,  and fat raindrops streamed across my windshield.

Despite B’s comment that he hopes it will be good luck to do iui on Halloween which is his all time favorite holiday,  I started to feel uneasy I’ll admit, as I recalled how in the past I thought bad weather on the drive was an omen that it wouldn’t work.

As I approached the city I had a thought,  to check my GPS for detours, which is honestly just so random that I would even think it…. and found out traffic on 64 was at a crawl for miles, and I would’ve hit it in 2 exits!

HOW FORTUITOUS!
I’m so lucky I thought to check before I got caught in it!

Although the detour I was guided through took me —-a lone white girl in a neon blue car—– DIRECTLY through east St.Louis, I survived and made it to WashU 7 minutes before my appointment! Yay!

When I arrived I promptly found a spot right up front,  such luck on a rainy morning!

Unfortunately,  I quickly realized I would have to sacrifice my parking spot as I had apparently taken my parking sticker out of my vehicle when I bought my new car. Sadface!

I hoped I could find a spot relatively close by and preferably free, and as luck would have it I found a spot in the back of WashU’s lot, just one lone visitors spot with a 3 hour time limit.

Breathing a sigh of relief I parked and headed for the building,  I wouldn’t be here 3 hours.

Check in went smoothly, and I settled in for the wait for our sperm sample to thaw.

How sad that my phone recognizes the wifi 😦
But I passed the time chatting with a friend, perusing funny Gifs, and playing a little game of “what the heck is that” on the Wish App.

Before I knew it my name was being called,  and by my favorite phlebotomist!

I will say at this point she made me a little sad,  as she was apparently under the impression that one of our babies had lived and she asked me if we had a boy or girl.

Sigh.

Then it was time to lose the pants,  but the socks stayed on,  because laziness.

The nurse came in,  small talk was made.
Insemination was performed.
Egg timer set for 15 minutes.
Then pants went back on and I began my journey home in a half asleep haze.

My favorite phlebotomist wished me luck and crossed her fingers for me.
The receptionist did the same.

I walked to my car and glanced down as I opened the door to a bright shiny penny facing heads up on the wet pavement of the parking spot I wouldn’t have had If I had brought my parking sticker.

I googled to see if I was supposed to do anything other than pick it up because KISMET.

I needed to stop at a pharmacy to grab some eyedrops since I couldn’t find mine, and my GPS took me to some random intersection in the city with no experience in sight thank you very much google maps.

So I opted to go to the Walgreens in fairview heights for gum, eyedrops, and chapstick.
Oh and a drink because the peach green tea I’d bought had lemongrass and MINT in it*gags*.

Because I turned my car off, when I started it my bluetooth wasn’t linked up…. and my car picked up some radio station where they were praying for each state and each person in that state and asking God to bless the fruit of the womb.

I listened until after Illinois.

The rest of my day was mostly uneventful.
I came home and collapsed in bed in an exhausted heap until nearly 2:30pm.

I woke up went to a couple of meetings, audited a few calls, and went to Walmart with the hubby for snacks for the first episode of Sabrina on netflix.

I worry a little because it seems to me that all our specimen leaked back out, and I’m worried that the nurse didn’t insert the catheter far enough in

I read online that in IUI the procedure loosens cervical mucus and that leaks out…. sooooooo hopefully my nurse today was competent.

I’ve been cramping all day.
I hope this works.

I really don’t want to have to ask B what we are going to do if it doesn’t.

C’mon lucky penny,  help a girl out?

xoxo
ME

 CD9.

Tonight I lit a candle for you.

Instead of tucking you into bed, and carefully pulling your favorite toy out of your fingers… batman action figures are really so inappropriate for a one year old,  but you just won’t let it go.

Instead of brushing back the hair sticking to your little ruby cheeks, since you sleep like your father, my sticky little space heater.

Instead of singing you a lullaby before sneaking out to pick up a house strewn with the chaos of toddlerhood.

Tonight I lit a candle for you.

Instead of rocking you to sleep, feeling your little fingers curl over mine. Watching your mouth pucker and relax as you dream about your next meal.

Instead of holding you close and telling you the story about the time I asked God for you and he gave you the strength to beat the odds and brought you to me.

Hard to believe I held you for the first time only 5 short months ago, since I’ve known you forever.

Instead of watching your father kiss you goodnight and marvel at your tiny features.

Tonight I lit a candle for you.

Instead of feeling you roll around in my womb,  is that an elbow? And lamenting about having to pee AGAIN.

Instead of swollen ankles and a round little bump that is starting to look more and more like I swallowed a yoga ball.

Instead of 3d scans and pink or blue, making plans and parenting classes.

Instead of looking forward with hope and fear and excitement.

Tonight I Lit a candle for you.

Dear heavenly father,  please hold my babies in your arms and tell them about me,  like I longed to tell them about you.

Until we meet again.

xoxo
MOMMY