So I was feeling creative yesterday, and put together a little movie.

You know what's almost as fun as dragging your nails across a chalkboard?

Watching 4/5 year olds play soccer. Don't believe me? See for yourself...

Labels: family, Fun, Soccer

I hesitate to write this post, if not for anything to appear depressed, because I don't think that I am (Ben & Jerry might disagree with my personal assessment, but that's another post.)

I am however, in a place that is foreign to me in many ways.

I can't quite think about when this occurred, except to say looking back, I've noticed that loneliness has been a frequent friend of mine. Maybe for the last year or so, but certainly the last few months.

I feel... disconnected.... at times. The days go by so fast, and I feel like just an afterthought in them. Oddly, my relationship with S and David seems unaffected. In fact, when they are gone (S at work , D at school), I miss them so, so much. All I can focus on is their return, and the nights and weekends we share with just the three of us.

But on the outside, in the company of family, co-workers, friends, neighbors... I feel so lonely. I find myself disconnecting and not able to reach out. To those who know me IRL, this statement would seem out of character for me. In fact, I think if you would ask anyone, they may not even be aware of my precarious state of mind.

My irrational self has always wondered if I stop reaching out, will people stop reaching out to me? And the answer in my head over the last six months has been a resounding YES. This terrifies me, and at the same time I feel strangely indifferent about the whole thing.

Can I blame the events over the last 4 years? Well, sure. Infertility, and each attempt and loss has had a profound effect. I've posted many times on this subject, and I hate to appear like a whining child, but YES, it has destroyed many things in my life. Confidence and Faith most prominently. And it has changed my view of others and their response to me.

How odd it is... having always been "the mother figure" (especially to friends), that I am in this place where I am on the flip side? Needing nurturing myself.

But my response to my intense need is to withdraw, and with that appearing unavailable to those I love. Wounded, but soldiering on. Sometimes being mischaracterized as not caring. Angry that those closest to me don't see it and judge me for the wrong reasons.

So as I have drawn inward, and have spoken less and less about my treatment and failure I now find that I can hardly remember what Shelli was four years ago. I am permanently changed. And on the days I long to reach out to anyone who will hear me and listen, I sit afraid. Afraid because I feel I have no one who won't judge me. Lonely. Wishing for someone to reach out and say.. "I'm here, I'm listening." instead of my having to be the sad puppy looking to be stroked.

Aside from this aspect of loneliness, something else is bothering me beyond measure. David has been becoming more and more vocal on the subject of wanting a sibling. So much so that he almost demands adequate explanation. While it is inappropriate to tell him the "whole truth" I long to grab him and hold him and cry on his shoulder... "me too..."

I don't want him to be an only child. If we remain a family of three life will be just fine, I know that. But imagining a family of four or five is the reason I've endured this long.

The problem is, if I get there (or if I don't), what is to become of me? If I stay in my shell, do I risk losing everyone? Or will some be kind and understand that my present and future requires healing to get back to the way I used to be?

I wish I knew.

Labels: Infertility, Pregnancy Loss, Reflections, secondary infertility

Overheard in the living room Saturday night:

David (as he sits in the recliner): "Daddy can you get those two green trucks on the floor for me?"

Daddy (sitting on the other chair reading a magazine): "You have two feet."

David: "GOD made hands to help other people... Daddy."

Labels: family, what did he say?

This is a photo of my Grandfather. I inherited this photo from my Grandmother after she died. It doesn't have a date on it, but my Mom and I suspect that it probably dates to around 1942. He was in the Navy at the time, during WWII, while my Grandmother was home with my newly born Aunt.

My Grandfather was a cook on a Navy ship. Which seems insane considering that was the ONLY place he ever cooked in his life. At home, after the war, he did not even boil water. He left all the cooking up to my Grandmother. In fact, he seemed not to like food very much. When we lived with my grandparents for a short time in the 70's we learned that each day of the week signified a certain entree, and that menu never varied. So if you weren't up for creamed corned-beef on Saturdays, you were out of luck.

You can't see it in this photo, but he was a red-head. First generation Irishman pursuing the American Dream. When the war was over he was a butcher, and in later years he started a construction company with my Dad. They specialized in septics at first, because, as my Grandfather would say, "Everyone has to eat, and everyone has to sh!t."

Yes, a simple man indeed.

This photo is how I remember my PopPop. This picture of him and Gram was from the mid 70's, and hung on Gram's wall for 25 years. Nothing had changed much back then. The business was bigger, but he still ate hot dogs on Fridays. As a kid, I remember fondly riding along with him on errands in his beige pickup truck. It had a "pleather" bench seat, and he would drive down our street and make sharp turns which made me slide back and forth across the seat. I would giggle with wild abandon, pretending I was on a carnival ride.

PopPop was fun, and how he loved being a grandfather.

And then, suddenly in the middle of the night on a cold December evening in 1976, he had a massive heart attack. He died alone watching the 11pm news on TV. He was 61.

I was 8 years old at the time, but I remember the sadness on my Mom and Gram's faces for months. Things like that are hard to erase. My Grandmother was only 57 years old when he died. She didn't know it then, but she would live a lifetime without him.

My grandfather's name was David.

The name I passed on to my son.

Looking at these pictures, I see David in both of them. And when he giggles he reminds me so much of my own childhood, filled with laughter and dreams to come.

In many ways, I still feel like that 8 year old. There is still so much excitement that awaits. How the world has changed since 1976... I often wonder what PopPop would think of everything that came after him.

He was right about the eating and **** thing though. And because of his visionary thinking, the construction company is still alive and well.

Somewhere in the heavens he is looking down with Gram in his arms, shaking his finger and smiling... "told you so!"

Labels: BagMomma way-back machine

Bright and early at 7am, S and I stood in line to cast our vote.

Did you vote today? Make your voice heard.
No matter who you vote for, get out and vote!

And don't forget, you can stop by Starbucks on the way home for a free coffee...

Labels: Vote

Behold, the S.W.A.T. man...

He looks intimidating, no?

He paraded at school... (that's his 7th grade "buddy" holding his hand... all together... awwwwwwwwww........)

He even had the time to pose in the dugout with the World Series Champions... the Phils!

Ok, that was trick photography...

It was a very bizarre Halloween around here with, oh, like, half the population in Philadelphia crowding the city, hooting, hollering, and drunk off their ass (well, it HAS been 25 years since we won anything).

But no, not us.

We were drunk on Snickers bars and Mummy Dogs. How much better could a day be?

Labels: family, Fun, Halloween

I am off work today...

Making Mummy Hot Dogs for today's Halloween festivities.

Aren't you jealous? If you want to make your own, go here.

Back on Monday with a Halloween wrap-up post. Just in time for the post-Halloween sugar coma.

Happy Halloween!

Labels: Food, Halloween

Back in the 80's when I was in high school and college I fancied myself the Queen of Alternative Music. When everyone else was rockin' out to Van Halen, Bon Jovi, Ozzy, Poison, and Whitesnake... I was pondering the meaning of life with my favorite RECORD collection (and cassette tapes)... wearing black, and hanging out with dudes who wore eyeliner.

I was into The Cure, Erasure, Bauhaus, The Smiths, New Order, R.E.M., and U2.

I should also admit that in the 80's I was also a big fan of Prince, Wham! and Duran Duran, but in the "cool crowds" I never would admit that.

So it deeply saddens me upon reading this post this morning:

Hilary Duff bastardizes Depeche Mode

Have my 80's idols actually SOLD OUT to a tween queen with a manufactured persona and voice?

Say it ain't so.

I knew there would come a day when my music became "the oldies" (like 50's and 60's music are to my parents), but I am not ready to hear it. I know that music "sampling" is a cool thing to do nowadays- take an old song and introduce it to the young people as new.

The problem: the audience doesn't know the original song, and ends up mistaking the new song as NEW. Therefore, never fully appreciating how GOOD the original is.

I know there has got to be readers to my blog that have no clue who Depeche Mode is, but sure as hell know Hilary Duff. And to them, I say... you missed a lifetime of great music in the 80's. Go forth and download all of the above groups I mentioned to your iPod and experience what being "cool" was all about.

Next thing you know Britney Spears will be covering "Purple Rain" on her comeback tour.

Speaking of which, "Purple Rain" was far and above one of the best albums ever released. E-V-E-R.

Show Prince some love, and tell me you loved it too.

Labels: 80's music, you've got to be kidding

I'm having "one of those days" already, and it's only 8:05am.

I woke up only to realize I overslept (thanks to my new friend, over-the-counter sleep aids). S. was already out of the shower, and David was still asleep in bed.

As I woke up David, I found he had a nosebleed in the middle of the night. A giant puddle of blood on the pillow, on the sheets, on the mattress cover. Lovely.

So I stripped the bed, and decided to get a quick shower. But, HELLO?! the shower was freakin' ice cold. There once was heat, after all... S. had steamed up the mirrors... but for me NO HOT WATER. It was a quick and bone chilling experience.

Now I head downstairs and see S. replacing light bulbs in the hallway. I ask "why are you doing this now???" his reply, "the house is about to burn down". It appears that those energy saving lights I've been replacing throughout the house don't like closed-in light fixtures. Who knew??

In my rush to get David's backpack together, I trip over a metal toy wagon in the hallway.

I promptly yelled "OWWWWW! Jes&*^ frig8^$#" and threw the wagon out of the side door into the garage.

Problem solved.

It's about this time when I realize it's pouring rain outside, and windy as hell. I figure it's best to take the car to the bus stop.

Meanwhile, David is getting dressed in his uniform, and he yells that he can't find his shoes.

Oh man.

I suddenly remember that I left them out on the front step the day before... because his shoes were muddy and I didn't want him tracking mud in the house.

His shoes were still outside on the step alright. In the RAIN. Soaked!

Idiot mother that I am, I only have ONE pair of uniform shoes. I had meant to buy a back-up pair (I almost always do), but I never got around to it. Dumb me.

Now we are late, and I am frantically writing a note to his teacher... "Sorry about the shoes..."
and we barely jump into the car and I see I have no umbrella. Figures.

We pull out of the driveway, and no sooner do we drive down the street and around the corner... here comes the bus. I leap out of the car, and attempt to open the rear door for David, only to realize the child safety lock was engaged so the door was locked. I run back to my door and unlock the doors and tell David to run to the bus.

"run David, runnnnn!" It was a Forrest Gump moment in pouring rain and wind.

I am only holding back 15 cars waiting on the bus. I know someone was cursing me from behind the wheel, because I used to be that person before I had David.

Now I am here in the safety of my home office. About to begin the work day. All sharp objects have been removed from my office, and I have a giant mug of coffee at the ready...

What else could go wrong today??? I mean, really...

Labels: I had a bad day

My buddy Melissa tagged me for a meme. I've been doing a lot of these lately, but haven't done this one yet, so here goes...

6 quirky things about me!

1. I don't carry loose change. I hate random pennies and dimes at the bottom of my purse. Primarily because they are dirty. And dirty money can ruin the inside of a fine wallet or purse! Seriously, when I handle money, I feel an intense need to wash my hands. Germs, GAH! I can't stand it. So if I am using cash, most times, if there's coins involved, I say... "keep the change" (and the germs please).

2. I like sunflower seeds. I don't eat them often, but when I do, my favorite part is the shell. When did it become a crime to chew them up and eat them whole? I used to have a friend in high school that would delicately pick apart the shell and only eat the seed. What a giant waste of time.... lol.

3. I've had an obsession my entire life regarding space. As in, The Universe. I can watch shows on cable all day regarding the planets, the stars, black holes, and the space program. In fact, I just watched a TV show a few nights ago regarding the Hubble telescope. I can't get enough. Not that I ever wanted to be an aerospace engineer or anything, but I find the subject intensely interesting. Don't get me started on thinking about the universe. And that the Milky Way is merely a blip on the radar. When I think about how space spans into infinity, it makes my head twirl. And, yes, the concept that space is actually imploding in on us in the next 100,000 years makes me sad.

Have I lost you yet?

4. Speaking of Lost, I must also admit I am a fan fanatic of the TV show "Lost". I've seen every episode at least 4 times, and yes, I am the scary geek that listens to fan podcasts, and thinks that JJ Abrams is the master of the universe. Oh, there we go back to the universe again... sorry.

5. I can't step on elevators anymore. Yes, sadly, our trip in 2007 in which I WAS STUCK in an elevator, and had to be RESCUED by the Hilton Head, SC Fire Department has made me a pansy. I choose to walk stairs.

6. I used to be an avid reader, but not so much nowadays. Why? I have this thing about reading books. If I start reading a book, I can't put it down. For real. I used to crack open a Stephen King hardcover in my twenties, and read all 400 pages in one day. So I tend to stick to shorter books, unless I am compelled by a really, really good book. In which I just plan on being up for 24 hours, or whenever I finish it.

So yeah, I got some quirkiness... how about you? Please don't make me feel like a moron.

Labels: meme

Oh, I feel so unproductive on the infertility front. Since the August let-down, I've not even been keeping track of my cycle. Seriously.

The last two arrivals of AF are a merely a circle on the calendar.

And having this mini-break really has been........ well........... surprisingly okay.

This month marks the first month of YEAR FOUR in my secondary infertility challenge. It almost seems comical some days. Something so easy for most, but decidedly hard for me.

So where are we on the donor egg cycle? Well, my current objective is securing the cash. The stock market has taken the wind out of my sails, as my rainy day savings bucket is tied up in investments all of which are tanking at the moment. I refuse to pull money out of there, so we are looking at some other methods.

I am calling today to schedule our psych evaluations. I want to get as much pre-work out of the way before the holidays. I owe a bloodtest, and S. owes another SA sample at the lab since he hasn't had a full work-up since last November.

But among these things, I am also curiously lazy at the moment.

I haven't looked at the donor profiles yet.

I guess the crux of it is, once I am invested, I am in it all the way. Which means another possibility of failure. I am so sick and tired of failing. But I am willing to jump in one more time, because I know that this really is the last attempt.

Remember when I referred to my last IVF cycle as my "Swan Song" for my old and broken eggs?

Well, if that was the swan song, this is.......... the "Hail Mary".

My RE is the quarterback, my donor is the football, and I am the wide receiver. We are on our own 10 yard line (90 yards from a touchdown and the WIN), and about to throw the longest pass in infertility history.

It will either be the miracle catch in the end zone, an incomplete, or a dropped pass.

Are you sick of my analogies yet?

Good. Because I have about 100 more over the next couple of months.

Labels: Donor Egg, Infertility, Pregnancy, secondary infertility

The rules:
A.) Go to musicoutfitters.com
B.) Enter the year you graduated from high school in the search function and get the list of 100 most popular songs of that year.
C.) Bold the songs you like, strike through the ones you REALLY hate.

I graduated in 1986, the height of high hair and neon fashion accessories. This list brought back some serious memories. High school, freshman year of college, bad boyfriends, and my first car... my '86 Ford Escort.

But where's U2 and Depeche Mode on this list? lol......


1. That's What Friends Are For, Dionne Warwick, Elton John, and Gladys Knight
2. Say You, Say Me, Lionel Richie
3. I Miss You, Klymaxx
4. On My Own , Patti Labelle and Michael McDonald
5. Broken Wings, Mr. Mister
6. How Will I Know, Whitney Houston
7. Party All The Time, Eddie Murphy
8. Burning Heart, Survivor
9. Kyrie, Mr. Mister
10. Addicted To Love, Robert Palmer
11. Greatest Love Of All, Whitney Houston
12. Secret Lovers, Atlantic Starr
13. Friends And Lovers, Carl Anderson and Gloria Loring
14. Glory Of Love, Peter Cetera
15. West End Girls, Pet Shop Boys
16. There'll Be Sad Songs, Billy Ocean
17. Alive And Kicking, Simple Minds
18. Never, Heart
19. Kiss, Prince and The Revolution
20. Higher Love, Steve Winwood
21. Stuck With You, Huey Lewis and The News
22. Holding Back The Years, Simply Red
23. Sledgehammer, Peter Gabriel
24. Sara, Starship
25. Human, Human League
26. I Can't Wait, Nu Shooz
27. Take My Breath Away, Berlin
28. Rock Me Amadeus, Falco
29. Papa Don't Preach, Madonna
30. You Give Love A Bad Name, Bon Jovi
31. When The Going Gets Tough, Billy Ocean
32. When I Think Of You, Janet Jackson
33. These Dreams, Heart
34. Don't Forget Me (When I'm Gone), Glass Tiger
35. Live To Tell, Madonna
36. Mad About You, Belinda Carlisle
37. Something About You, Level 42
38. Venus, Bananarama
39. Dancing On The Ceiling, Lionel Richie
40. Conga, Miami Sound Machine
41. True Colors, Cyndi Lauper
42. Danger Zone, Kenny Loggins
43. What Have You Done For Me Lately, Janet Jackson
44. No One Is To Blame, Howard Jones
45. Let's Go All The Way, Sly Fox
46. I Didn't Mean To Turn You On, Robert Palmer
47. Words Get In The Way, Miami Sound Machine
48. Manic Monday, Bangles
49. Walk Of Life, Dire Straits
50. Amanda, Boston
51. Two Of Hearts, Stacey Q
52. Crush On You, Jets
53. If You Leave, Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark
54. Invisible Touch, Genesis
55. The Sweetest Taboo, Sade
56. What You Need, INXS
57. Talk To Me, Stevie Nicks
58. Nasty, Janet Jackson
59. Take Me Home Tonight, Eddie Money
60. We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off, Jermaine Stewart
61. All Cried Out, Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam With Full Force
62. Your Love, Outfield
63. I'm Your Man, Wham!
64. Perfect Way, Scritti Politti
65. Living In America, James Brown
66. R.O.C.K. In The U.S.A., John Cougar Mellencamp
67. Who's Johnny, El Debarge
68. Word Up, Cameo
69. Why Can't This Be Love, Van Halen
70. Silent Running, Mike + The Mechanics
71. Typical Male, Tina Turner
72. Small Town, John Cougar Mellencamp
73. Tarzan Boy, Baltimora
74. All I Need Is A Miracle, Mike + The Mechanics
75. Sweet Freedom, Michael McDonald
76. True Blue, Madonna
77. Rumors, Timex Social Club
78. Life In A Northern Town, Dream Academy
79. Bad Boy, Miami Sound Machine
80. Sleeping Bag, ZZ Top
81. Tonight She Comes, Cars
82. Love Touch, Rod Stewart
83. A Love Bizarre, Sheila E.
84. Throwing It All Away, Genesis
85. Baby Love, Regina
86. Election Day, Arcadia
87. Nikita, Elton John
88. Take Me Home, Phil Collins
89. Walk This Way, Run-D.M.C.
90. Sweet Love, Anita Baker
91. Your Wildest Dreams, Moody Blues
92. Spies Like Us, Paul McCartney
93. Object Of My Desire, Starpoint
94. Dreamtime, Daryl Hall
95. Tender Love, Force M.D.'s
96. King For A Day, Thompson Twins
97. Love Will Conquer All, Lionel Richie
98. A Different Corner, George Michael
99. I'll Be Over You, Toto
100. Go Home, Stevie Wonder

Ok, let's see yours. Even though I technically graduated in 1986, there are still 9 other great years of 80's music.

This post is dedicated to my college roommate, and BFF, Steph....
who, regretfully, would choose #51 as her favorite song of 1986 (since Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes" did not make this list... how did that happen anyway?)

Labels: Fun, meme

...another day, another hayride.

This time, instead of heat and dust, we got cold and wind. Finally!

Perfect hayride weather. This time, we took "The Boys", the plural name my family uses to refer to my two nephews and David as one group of gaggling 5/6 year olds.

There's just nothing quite as exhilarating as sitting on a bail of hay and breathing in cow dung.

Or, getting lost in a three acre corn maze.

Did I mention the electric fence that has an itty bitty sign that said, "do not touch"?

A fun time was had by all, especially "The Boys"

...wait.... there's four kids here...


That's my kid brother, G. on the end. Well, he's not really a kid anymore at the age of 37.

Yeah, he is.

Labels: Fall, family, Fun

Yeah, ok, I ripped this off of Perez Hilton.

This video makes me sick to my stomach. I am a firm supporter of free speech, but this kind of speech is ignorant.

This is the world we live in.

Labels: she's talking politics??

Today, October 15th is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day .

Especially poignant for me, as Oct 15th, 2008 also marks yet another due date I never reached. My most recent pregnancy that ended far too soon. Today, I would have had a baby in my arms.

For the last 3 years, every time I remember this day I have more losses to add to the list. It becomes so incredibly painful to remember them all.

And to be honest, there have been so many that the months and days start to run together. A mish mash of missed dues dates and dashed dreams.

As a favor to me, if you have any close friends of family that have experienced loss, please reach out to them today. If for anything just to say hello and you are thinking of them.

And to my fellow sisters-in-loss who have been there, I am thinking of you.

Labels: Infertility, miscarriage, Pregnancy Loss, Recurrent Pregnancy Loss, Stillbirth

Yesterday, I took David on a hayride. Unfortunately, so did half of the free world since it was a school holiday.

We took Grandmom (my Mom) along, and parked about a county away. Then we waited 40 minutes in line for tickets. And another half hour to actually get ON the hayride.

It was so HOT and so DUSTY. Totally ruined the ambience. No hot apple cider. I didn't even want anything hot. Maybe ice cream.

Damn global warming.

I had to carry three huge pumpkins back to the car and ended up getting a pretty good workout. My arms still hurt today. But all in all, David had a good time so that's all that matters.

Can't tell by the pictures... just imagine it's 60 degrees and Fall-like.

Maybe we'll do it again when we ever get a cold day!

Labels: Fall, Fun

No worries, I haven't been absent, just enjoying a long weekend.

Well, sorta.

The economy has been bringing me down. Waaaaay down. Add to it that it coincides with our future plans, and well... you get the idea.

I posted over at my other home, NJ Moms Blog about the latest casualty in the BagMomma house. It's a small thing, but pretty much marks The End of Days around here.

Nope, it isn't pretty. Kind of makes me feel completely insane that I am about to take out a very large loan for medical expenses.

Back tomorrow with fun stuff from the pumpkin patch. It's not just for celebrities!


p.s. you do get the pun about the boat, right? Columbus Day? Jaws? I know it's a fuzzy connection, just go with it.

Labels: economy, finances, you've got to be kidding

I woke up this morning, put David on the bus and settled in for my work and a large cup of coffee when I came across this post from my blogging friend, Melissa. For those of you not connected to the infertility realm, Mel is one of those people who has a heart of gold and has been a champion for all of us who have fallen into the wrong side of the statistics. There have been times during my own struggle when her blog saved me. This fact I am not exaggerating.

But sometimes those we look up to and commiserate with have their own bad days too.

Her post hit me like a brick.

A very large brick.

Go read it, and come back here.

No really....

I'll wait...

I think the overriding feeling that I took away from her post is that never-ending wish that things weren't so damn hard. That all of our dreams were more easily attainable.

And (yeah, I'm gonna say it)... that life was FAIR to all of us.

I need to spin off of Mel's post on this subject, so bear with me here. Not sure where my thoughts will lead to... but this post and a certain piece of info I learned about yesterday sent me careening off the rails.

It was troubling news that angered me. It propelled me into THAT place. I can't go into any specifics, but someone in my real life is pregnant and has no freaking business being pregnant.

I wish I could give you all the whole story. You'd choke. You'd gasp.

Yeah, it's THAT BAD.

In any event, I spent the remainder of the day thinking... where is the fairness in this? To bring a baby into the world that will need and want and have no provisions available. To be born into a bad situation. No opportunity to thrive. A dysfunctional and potentially dangerous situation.

And all the while here I am. Spending thousands of dollars to get to a dream that is wasted on someone who has no right. Not knowing (ever knowing) that my investment of time, money, and love will produce ANY tangible result.

(Whew, let me breathe for a moment).

Here's the thing...

Infertility has taken away so much from me and my family. It has invaded every last corner of my little world. It has made me less of an outgoing person. It has destroyed my body image. It has made me fearful for my only child (because WHAT IF something were to happen to him!?!). It has drained my emotional resources, and my financial resources.

The perfect life that I envisioned slips away, little by little. Sucking the life out of it.

All the while people are getting married, making plans, deciding on how many kids to have. Having babies, planned and (ooops!) unplanned. Not even THINKING anything could go wrong. They have no idea how quickly their world can be stripped away. No idea.

Until they end up here like us. The misfits.

To end up in a vacuum like so many of us. Where the world exists in a holding pattern. When time moves from cycle to cycle rather than calendar month to month. Where sitting down to dinner at a table that seats 3, 4, 5, or more people makes your heart ache for the empty chairs that have no living children sitting in them.

Knowing that a decision to stop treatment could mean feeling like that forever.

Constantly feeling empty.

This is what keeps me going. I see the future of unfulfilled dreams and I turn and run. I run as if my life depends upon it. Because the alternative is just too hard to think about.

Quoting from Mel: "It's just that you never expect that you're going to be infertile when you're skipping back down the aisle at your wedding, your heart literally traveling out of your chest like a released balloon."... "It is possible, I've heard, that you can change your dream. You can adapt to anything. These are just the growing pains of holding a dream away from your heart and examining it closely. Dreams don't like to be separated from the body; they howl. They cry."

I could not have expressed this better or as eloquent as she.

To carry the burden of infertility and loss is like carrying the universe on your back. It's heavy, dark, and sometimes it seems just too infinite to measure.

Labels: family, Infertility, rants, Recurrent Pregnancy Loss, Reflections, secondary infertility

Had a meeting this morning with the donor coordinator at my RE's office. It was one of the best consults I ever had there. Thorough and thought-provoking. No kidding? From an RE's office no less.

Nurse T spent the better part of her morning explaining e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g... I got an open-ended length of time to ask every question I've been saving up. My brain is swimming in details. But it's good details.

The best part was just chatting about how we came to both be sitting in the room together having this specific conversation. Instead of doing the "one-minute summary" of my history, we talked about all the milestones and emotions along the way. What it means to be making this choice.

Letting go of the vice-grip on my ovaries. My eggs. My DNA.

I feel like I am breaking up with an old friend. "Things just aren't working between us anymore." "You've let me down, and I have to move on."

I'm sure this topic will come up again when we attend the counseling for egg donor recipients, but as the days drag on I am starting to feel like it's a good thing to finally cut the cord, so to speak.

With my old, damaged eggs. I am so done with you.

It's actually exhilarating to think about it. Suddenly, giving up on my eggs doesn't seem so bad. In fact, it takes a lot of the pressure off. It's not going to be "all about me" anymore.

If I wasn't 100% on board with this process before, I feel like I crossed over the line today.

First steps: some blood work (there's always blood work, isn't there?) and an appointment with the "keeper of the book". In other words, the big binder of donor profiles.

Interesting times ahead for sure.

Labels: Donor Egg, secondary infertility

Labels: DonorsChoose.org, New Jersey Moms Blog, Silicon Valley Moms Blog

Excuse my lack of posting this week, I've been hit with my annual Fall cold. My joints ache, and I have the worst sore throat. Eh.

The title above.. For your eyes only. After I wrote it, all I could think about was Sheena Easton. Whatever happened to her anyway? Now I am stuck with that song in my head, and it's all my fault.

Anyway, on to the post.

I've been busy doing research offline regarding the DE cycle. Besides trying to figure out how I am going to come up with the money, I've been putting together my exhaustive list of questions for the donor coordinator, Nurse T. I have a meeting with her on Monday.

Over the last week, I've put a lot of thought to how I want to handle this going forward, in so far as privacy. Those who know me IRL have been following my journey for years now, and my failures have certainly NOT been a secret to my family and those close to me. Which I am entirely okay about.

But as I embark on this new journey, I have a request:

My lovely SIL's read my blog, as do some close friends and family. I would ask that if you do know me IRL, please keep my thoughts here and the clinical details under your hat. Please don't share the specifics with anyone.

I am not exactly sure how much I want people to know about pursuing a genetic donor. This is merely a way to safeguard myself, and any potential offspring that may result.

There are so many emotions not sorted out yet, so please do indulge me as I morph into over-protective mom-mode.

You know that I am usually the person wearing my heart on my sleeve... an open book if you will... but for this part of the journey I wish to retain a little privacy.

As far as the world is concerned outside of this blog, I will merely be chasing another fresh IVF cycle. One more step along the path. And I invite you all to join me.

Labels: Donor Egg, Illness, secondary infertility

I really want to be a GOALIE... what do you mean there's no goalies in Kindergarten soccer?

Labels: Kindergarten, Soccer

Sometimes, support comes from the oddest of places.

This nice woman used to be a neighbor of my Gram. She lived in the same "over-55" complex, but they never knew each other. Back when David was born, she knitted something for him, and it so reminded me of my Gram because if my Gram had still been alive, she would have made me something similar.

Anyway, this older woman brings her car into the dealership where S. works, and over the years she has become a friend to S. and a great customer. In my husband's business, he usually deals with aggravated people- so refreshing to talk to someone with a heart.

Sometime long ago, S. shared with this woman that we were going through some serious infertility issues (after she asked the inevitable question, "aren't you having any more children??") Each time she would visit my husband, she would always ask for updates. And as she departed, always mentioned she would say a prayer for us.

Yesterday, she arrived with an envelope. Inside was a prayer card (for St. Gerard, Patron Saint of Motherhood), and a relic.

I was just stunned with this act of kindness. An almost stranger thinking of me, rooting for me. Praying for me.

Such a selfless thing to do! I feel unworthy, yet strangely comforted.

If angels do exist, I do believe I have one.

Labels: angels, Infertility, secondary infertility

So here we are.

I did manage to finally get some sleep since my last post. I was starting to think something was seriously wrong with me. Like I'd end up on the show "House" as the sleepless woman, and Dr. House would diagnose me with some bizarre one in a million disease. And then I'd be given a terminal diagnosis only to be clutched from death's door because of something simple like a bug bite on my pinky toe.

Anyway....

I did have my consult with Dr. Nerd yesterday. It was as expected, but with a lot of CHEERS and JEERS.

Dr. Nerd likes to state the obvious, and each time we sit down for one of these pow-wows, he feels the need to review my entire infertile history. As if I've forgotten. From the five miscarriages, to the questionable blocked tube, my "unknown" diagnosis, perfect blood work, my ease at getting pregnant but not, my annoying cervix, the various drama interspersed over the last three years...

I tried to keep my eyes from rolling to the back of my head.

But then we talked about my last failed IVF cycle. He went on to say that 14 eggs for a woman my age (40 years, 6 months) was practially a record-breaking event (CHEERS). Then the fact that 12 eggs fertilized normally was also above average (CHEERS).

Then the bad news. Which we already knew. The transfer with the top three failed. (JEERS) And then he dropped the bomb about my "so-called"over-achieving embryos...

Of the nine remaining in the embryology lab, by Day 4 all were abnormal (just on sight). By the end of Day 4, 8 had arrested (stopped growing). One lonely embryo had made it to blast, but it was so badly fragmented and abnormal looking they deemed it not suitable to freeze.

Of course we will never know what really happened to the three that were transferred. But obviously they likely suffered the same fate.

At least it wasn't a miscarriage! That thought has brought me comfort in the last three weeks, and I heard myself say it in my head at the table.

So then we turned to the "what now" portion of the consult. We talked statistics. My clinic is one of the best in my area, but even so... trying on my own would be a very much uphill battle.

Having been on the wrong side of the statistics SO MANY times, I am no longer the woman looking at the half-full glass.

8-12% is my chances of a "clinical" pregnancy on my own with another IVF cycle. "Clinical" as in a positive pregnancy test. That number does not account for miscarriages after a positive test. The real "take-home baby" percent is waaaay lower. Can it happen? Well miracles can always happen. But with my history and old eggs, it's very unlikely.

Age is my enemy. I may be an egg-producing anomaly for a 40 year old, but quantity does not trump quality. It doesn't do a damn thing for me.

65% is my chances of a "clinical" pregnancy with Donor Eggs. The miscarriage rate is way lower because my age doesn't matter. The added bonus is with my clinic's donor program, eggs making it to freeze are a common occurrence. So even if it didn't work out of the gate from a fresh cycle, FET cycles are likely. And even a frozen cycle with DE triples or quadruples my chances. The downside is money. But money is money, and with the debt I'm in, what's another 12k?

I have ONE insured IVF cycle left on my medical insurance. Any person would be crazy to bet on my eggs. Hell, I wouldn't even bet on them.

So I'm not.

And so begins chapter #god knows what in my quest.

Now I see why people become addicted to gambling.

The pain of losing money pales in comparison to the hope of the payoff.

The BIG payoff.

Labels: Donor Egg, Infertility, Reflections, secondary infertility

For the last five days or so, I've had a really hard time sleeping at night.

For whatever reason, my brain has been on overload. Being back to work, still adjusting to David's new schedule, and over thinking infertility has kept me from a sound sleep. I've averaged no more than 3-4 hours of sleep a night lately. I'm tired, I'm irritable, and my stomach is in knots.

Over the weekend, I started to feel a little sick. Just a minor cold, but enough to further exacerbate the situation of sleeplessness. I finally gave in and took nighttime cold medicine, in hopes that I would drift off into a deep sleep last night.

Of course it didn't work.

I went to bed at 8:30pm (early) but after tossing and turning I was back downstairs to watch TV at 10:30pm.

I went back upstairs at 11:30pm, and lay in bed watching the moon though the blinds. It was so bright, it almost seemed like the sun.

I thought about everything.

I just couldn't turn it off.

I thought about my job. We had a re-org while I was gone, and my job didn't change... but I was shifted into another division. Major shifts like this sometimes are the harbinger of bigger shifts. The economy is tanking big time, and my company is one of those stocks that everyone watches. Uncertainty in our stock spells doom for the blue chips. I am preparing for the worst.

I thought about S.' job, and how uncertain his job is also. And how much he hates it now. How I wish I could just wave a magic wand and get him a new job he loves.

I thought about my RE appointment tomorrow. I thought about the questions I want to ask, and the questions I am fearful to ask.

I thought about money, or the lack of it in the household. I thought about medical bills and utility bills, and tuition, and the credit card bills, and David growing so fast out his clothes, and how badly I need new shoes, and tons of other random, trivial crap.

I thought about God. Yep, I did. With David now attending a Catholic school, we've been making an effort to start talking to David more about religion. He is learning prayers at school. We're trying to get back to church as a family on a regular basis. Trying to connect spiritually with something... anything.

But there's a problem. My faith has been wavering lately. And the more we open up our lives to this, the more I am becoming angry. I am angry at the the injustices of the world. I am angry that a parishioner lost a 6 month old baby boy last week. I am angry that God has the audacity to give many of us MUCH more than we can handle. How can this be? How can this be right?

By 3:07am, I was still up and still thinking, and worrying.

At 3:17am, I went to the bathroom, walked back to the spare bedroom (as to not disturb S.) and sat with a tissue box in hand. I was so congested I couldn't breathe.

At 3:30am I pulled the blanket up over my head and started to cry. I don't know where it came from. I cried as quietly as I could. I didn't want to wake S. or David. All the while inside I was screaming like a banshee. If I had been alone, I sure I would have screamed