Patience Is Not My Virtue

October can not come fast enough.  You would think I would be the girl that has acquired the ability to wait patiently after everything that has gone on over the past five years.  But no.  I am still the same impatient, lead footed, speed walking, trying to talk on the phone while texting and looking up a recipe on Pinterest girl.

TIME. That is one monster that I will never learn to tackle with grace.  Lets be honest no one is beating time. Unless you have a good plastic surgeon...............

Apparently she didn't. Or is this a he....and now I'm confused.

........ or you are skilled in the arts of witchcraft like Bianca Lawson who not only plays a very young dead teenage witch on The Vampire Diaries, as Emily,....but also played a 16 year old on PrettyLittleLiars.

She's 34 folks.  My money is going with real life witch on this one. Sorry Bianca. Or is it Griselda?


But then we have my husbands my favorites who definitely have a few tricks up their non-aging time stopping sleeves......

Oh hey look at me, Eva Mendes, blowing a perfect kiss with my perfect 39 year old face and body. And I am about to marry Ryan Gosling....what a travesty.

..........................................and do I really need to even say anything about Miss Berry. She turned 47 this month and I'm pretty sure she has looked the same since she took Mrs. Ohio in 1986. Minus the hair. PTL.

And then there is my all time favorite 44 year old All American bad ass Jennifer Anniston.  

ummmm......wait a minute...why is she standing in a wheat field??....I'm pretty sure those shorts are made out of cotton.  Get it together girl friend.  

We don't want Justin Theroux to be another Brangelina episode.  I felt sad for her for a whole year and hated Angelina up until the whole mastectomy thing went down this past year!  Geez, talk about cancer sympathy to make me feel horrible and make amends for Angelina stealing her man.

Side note.  Screw cancer.  Its been royally pissing me off for years since it took my granny and since been causing unwanted visits to very special and truly loving people in my family and my friends lives. A cure would be swell at any point in TIME. End note.

I am not saying that looks are everything.   I am just questioning if there is an undisclosed source of TIME hidden somewhere in the greater continental US that these ladies are accessing for a fee paid in small unmarked bills.  I  believe that everyone has to be comfortable in their own skin wrinkly or not.  Overweight or toothpick.  I feel pretty dang comfortable at almost 33(minus the constant ticking coming from my lower abdomen) with myself but Halle Barry at 50....girlfriend is setting the bar a littleeee too high for my husband to be expecting me to look that good in 20 years.  Not going to happen D.  Unless we hit the mega millions and I pull a Demi Moore.  No. Not even then.  I would use that money for infertility babies all over the world and keep my wrinkly old saggy ass....well saggy. Good genes or a skillful surgeon?  Whatever the answer is, more power to them.  But really ladies, if you have coordinates to this TIME capsule I'm pretty good at Geocaching. Not, really...but it sounds cool. I am too lazy for that. 

I can honestly say the past five months have gone by pretty fast considering.  I would thank my uterus and ovaries for keeping me busy but I currently still hate them.  Speaking of which...my Laprascopy is set for September 5th. Another time I am so impatiently waiting on.  I can't wait for my RE to cut into me and go on a scavenger hunt for answers.  No really. I am excited. Except for my recurring dream  nightmare of being awake but unable to move and seeing him preform the whole surgery and hearing him say my tubes are tied in knots..those are fun. So yes this week can hurry up and get to steppin' right along with the rest of September.  Did I mention I miss my husband? The next months blog posts are where I will try not to annoy you with too many of those. I know we get the point already Rachel.

While I am mentioning having patience and wanting time to hurry up so my husband will be back sooner I have another wrench to throw into the mix.  We are moving to MO. Fort Leonard Wood that is.  Middle of nowhere.  I will blog more about that news another day.  We just found out...actually my husband emailed me the news..there may have been a What the.....letter after E.

What does that mean for our IVF plans, our house, our cars since we need 4wd and my job(s).  Another post.  We are taking the good with the bad.  You have to be super flexible if you are married to someone in the military.

This is me 95% of the time.

Minus the bent toes....Everyone knows you gotta keep those pointed. #amateur.

A tip for my young military wives; not that I am wise and old in my great 32 years of life but 25 years(army brat) of military life has an effect on ones perspective.  One thing is for sure, if you don't learn to be flexible by duty station one, you are in for a long, torturous, miserable ride.  Hurry up and wait...that's your life now.  Take it or leave it...and since your husbands can't "leave it" that includes you too.  Unless you spend too many nights out at the club spending all your husbands deployment money on booze and taxis. (IUIs and Jimmy Johns over here!) Then your're the one that will be "leave it".  Its not that hard to pick up a hobby like quilting or reading a book and keeping your vagina closed.  But that's a lost cause that falls on whorish deaf ears so lets move on. I'm bitter because I have lost too many friends over the years because they were not the "quilting" types. 

One day at a time...expect the unexpected...support your spouse without complaint and don't forget to stretch.  In the meantime if you find that secret fountain while you're globe trotting across the world shoot me an email, I have a birthday coming up on Pearl Harbor Day and 18 year old ovaries sound fabulous again. Thanks.

Laps, IVF, Fall, Oh My!

"Well well well, its about time you made an appearance around here. We were beginning to think you hi-jacked a school bus full of preschoolers and headed for Canada(we all know Mexico isn't a safe bet anymore). "

Even though that sounds like a well thought out plan, I unfortunately cannot for the life of me figure out how to drive a school bus.  Something about all those gears.  So for now, lets stick with this ole' IVF thing. Science I hear has come a long way in the past 20 years so we are going to give it a shot. Literally.
Pun definitely intended.  

I oh so cleverly stole this picture via the world wide web..so whoever you are. Thanks.

So before I jump into all my obnoxious and oh so over the top Fall lovin' glory, as we sit waiting in the middle of August, how about an update on my broken lady parts.

I had my consult with Dr. H last Wednesday and finally got the chance to tickle my IVF fancy of questions. The next step he wants to pursue in baby maker wonderland is a  Laparascopy.  If you click the word it will explain what that means.  Basically in idiot terms it is a surgery that involves some incisions, a tiny camera, repair tools(just in case), and lots of pain pills and bed rest. Totally looking forward to the last part of that sentence.  Whoever brings me home from the Lap and takes care of me while I most likely cry like a three year old being carried out of ToysRus can have whats left of Lindsey Lohans dignity.

Or Heidi Montag's real face. Wherever that might be at......

All I'm saying is I have never in my 32 years of exsitence had any surgery procedure minor or not.  I can not be held responsible for my antics or behavior within that 24 hour time frame. 

Who's coming with me? 

Dr. H is suppose to call this week to let me know what day in September this catastrophic probing will take place.  Catastrophic in that it could be the key to my Pandoras box. hehehe need I say more...smh.  

Ok ok, back over on this side of the line. Enough about boxes more about whats inside them. Again. I am a freak. I....can't....stop.  Hopefully Dr. H finds perhaps what is delaying the process of my husband and I having little minions that run around in redskins gear, doing the "mangina" while making a wreath.  Yes, we will be brainwashing our future said children into loving the Redskins but the mangina is optional. Just ask my husband to explain that one..he likes to do it to his mother and grandmother. If you google image search mangina your welcome for a laugh or a scare. Most likely a little of both.  Off topic again. Typical.
So the Lap is set for next month and depending on results or any "repairs" we will be doing IVF in January. That was another question during my consult.  The big one. Prices. We all know this crap shit ain't free. I have known for a year now that IVF was always a factor that would most likely be our only solution. Everyone was always so positive and full of answers about how Clomid usually works after a few months. Then there was the femera might be better for you try. Followed by a burning HSG pep talk to fuel the hopeful fire. And of course the four paid medicated IUIs that resulted in four big, fat, giant, Loserville's sorry about your luck NO.  I do not regret the IUIs so that would be considered a plus seeing that we could have a few thousand dollars saved for IVF at this point.  I think four was a good shot.  I would regret anything over four and feel unsatisfied at anything under.  My heart and hopes have been crushed enough throughout this past year that my mind has already been made up about my private parts. They frankly suck. And not popsicles.  It's time to move this pity train on.

Even with all that said, somehow and someway I still have a tiny flicker of hope inside that we may pull a Hail Mary in the 4th quarter to win by one.  One chubby, dimpled, bald headed toothless point that is. I will be starting acupuncture again along with herbal all natural supplements in October.  My husband will be home at the end of October/early November and we all know his counts are at a all time high.  Yuck.  It would be the perfect time for us to have a baby like normal fertile couples do.  Miracles do happen folks.  No one every thought the Back Street Boys would come back and look at them now. All matching outfits and slick dance moves.

Now depending on my Lap results IVF could be a go or could be a no go.  It took me a couple of days to recoup my mindset after that appointment.  Seeing 18,000 dollars on paper is enough to make you question how badly you want this.  Not going to lie. For a split second, I really envisioned me and my husband as Carl and Ellie floating away to South America via a balloon carried house. And quite frankly, that is never out of the question because it isn't up to just science and money.  I know there is a plan and purpose for us, whether that is as a two person family or three, and it will prevail in due time.  There was also mentions of a sketchy diabolical plan from an instagrammy friend to sell our un-needed organs on a black market to pay for said procedure. I am still considering that so if you know of anyone in need of a kidney let me know. I can hold my pee for a long time.  

I guess that option is out too...damn you birthdays.

On the bright side our shitty lame Tricare military insurance covers our drugs for IVF. So a loan to the tune of 13,000 dollars is what we will be looking at. One fresh cycle. One shot. One leap of faith. Any family members can win the lottery at any point in time. I will be here waiting.  Impatiently. 

And its not about the money...well technically it is.  The stress on our marriage, lifestyle, and future once we are able to be blessed with a child hangs in the balance of said money.  And this is the case for millions of other women.  The amount of stress and heartache is 100 times greater when you simply are paying out of pocket for infertility. We hope we only have to give it one try.  As we all know, that is not a guarantee multiple that number by 1000 if you are onto your 2nd or 3rd or even 4th try.  You cannot put a price tag on a child but apparently you can put a price tag on what it takes to try to have one.  Thank you insurance companies for your much needed medical support.  I forgot to tell my reproductive organs to work the correct way when I was growing up.  I can only say I am thankful that I do not have to pay for the drugs I will be introducing to my body for weeks.  I would be a bitter asshole about that one.  Especially with the known side effects.  "I am paying for this!!?" So let me be clear, I am heartbroken and so sorry if you have absolutely no coverage at all.  Please forgive me and my feel sorry for myself rant, when I at least get to buy the cow but get the milk free.  Still bitter for all of us.

Now for my favorite part of this post. Fall. As I sit here with my owl mug and green tea in hand I am more than anxious for this season to be upon us.  Yes I love summer.  But I love fall even more. I had said before that I was a tomboy and not into fashion or style.  I guess I can eat my words because that was a lie.  When it comes to fall, I love nothing more than some tall leather boots, warm leggings, and over-sized sweaters. So without boring you with more words, I put into pictures some of my favorite things that describe what fall is to me. 

Thank you George whoever you are.

 Boots on boots on boots...followed with leg warmers and comfy clothes.

Witchy movies, TWD, seasonal beverages, bonfires and front porch love.

 Crabcakes and football thats what Maryland does.

 Minion and pumpkins I just can't resist.

Last but most certainly not least...my number one reason why Fall simply rocks more than before. And please for the love of us military wives block me on all social media accounts before you complain about spending five boring minutes with your dumb boring husband. I believe you married the guy. We would give our left pinky(right if your left handed) to spend just one of those minutes back with ours.  Just as seeing constant baby bumps, preggers complain about being preggers, bad parenting or overflows of newborns (not that any of those bother me except the complainers) seeing you share with the world how bored you are or how much your husband sucks royally chaps my you know what. And please by all means complain away. Just block me out of respect of the fact that its been five months since I or others have even hugged ours or months before I can relax knowing he is safe off doing dumb shit with his dumb boyfriends while the garbage needs emptied.

I'll be here waiting Fall...no big deal.

David we almost made it.......bliss.

Emotional Week

To say this has been an emotional week would be an understatement. I don't think my body can keep up with replacing the flow of tears that keep falling from my dumb face.  Where do I even begin? Lets go with tears of joy and leave the sadness for the end so I can at least make some sort of half assed make shift sense this time.  I will add minions. Because they just make things better.

Tears of Joy.
I had the privilege of taking another military spouse to her IVF transfer this week.  If you're not familiar with IVF(what D and I will be doing next) you can click here for a brief summary on the science explanation. What you don't read about is the emotional, financial and physical explanation of what goes into just one fresh cycle.  Many of these are repeated. If you are blessed you will only have to do IVF once. Most are not.  If you are extremely blessed then your insurance just might cover the costs.  Good luck with that.

I can attest to the repetition and finances for the simple fact that the girl I went with was one of those women. This isn't her first rodeo.  I have to apologize for when she discovers this post.  She is very humble in her struggle. Where most women would have fallen or given up on this journey she is still pushing on.  So forgive me M and my big mouth and my over emotional blog post.  You can skip these next paragraphs if it makes you feel better but I. Just. Can't.

You see the thing is I do not think people get it when I say how truly strong some woman actually are.  I am talking about the ones that are humbling, the ones who put on a straight face despite the cards they are dealt. Who never give up. Who always keep their faith first. Lastly, the ones that are so grateful at outcomes which most would deem unfair and an outrage. Infertility or not. I applaud you.  

My dear friend M, her husband a Marine who is gone like mine until fall, had her second fresh cycle of IVF this week.  Lets see, shes only been trying to conceive for ten years now. No big deal.  Her first round of IVF was successful and she made it to 5 months of her pregnancy but God needed another angel by his side. So next came rounds 1 and 2 of an FET.  This is another complicated process where you have left over embryos from a fresh cycle and those are then frozen and later thawed to use in this "FET"(frozen embryo transfer). Again shots, drugs, testing and more money.  Sadly both ended in early miscarriage.

Now lets fast forward over a year and get to this week.  It was such a privilege to be part of such an intimate and special day.  We both cried when the medical receptionist told us "one made it."  

To think that a women goes through months of shots and fertility medicine and spends tens of thousands of dollars and more on this one cycle is mind blowing.  Yes I've been trying for 5 years and yes we've spent a few thousand on IUIs and procedures.  But this, this was overwhelming.  To think I will be in her shoes soon was a wake up call.  I have never been more ready and excited for it to happen but at the same time I am so.....well...just scared.  

Back to her one $13,000+ dollar embryo.  Tears of joy over one out of 13 making it.  If she was angry or upset she didn't show it.  When I heard one, to be honest, I was heartbroken.  She was thankful. And I was thankful to be there.  I went in with her to watch them do the transfer. Heck, I actually video tapped. Not her vagina...lets be mature people. I wasn't with Farrah Abraham from teen mom. The actually screen shot video of the embryo. It was amazing and surreal to say the least. There was more crying and more laughing as we waited for the nurse to say we could go.  I am forever changed and inspired by my experience.  To say I came out of that clinic with a new perspective on life would be accurate.  So thank you M, please do not let your Dominican side come out and punch me in the arm when you see me next.  I am a wimp. And you are a warrior.

Prayers for her during this time would be greatly appreciated.  As we all know nothing we do is a guarantee and its in Gods hands not ours.

I would like to add in some excitement.  If you haven't seen my link on the main page this is how I feel about this website.

Please go to www.theinfertilityfairy.com to check out their site and see what they are doing for infertility. And just how you can help. If any of my posts have reached out to you and left you wondering what exactly you can do to help? This is what you can do. I am telling you now.  Go to this website.  Copy and paste it into your browser and save it in your bookmarks. If you really "don't have time right now."  I am judging you if you never go.  The least you can do is share it on social media even if you do not donate 5 dollars or buy a little print or a piece of Origami Owl jewelry.  Women like myself and like my dear friend M above would love to be supported and feel much less stressed about wanting to have a family and being able to support that family when the time comes.  So please don't take this lightly it is very important to me.

Worry.
This has been a big one this week. My dad has been going through major testing on his brain. He has been experiencing excruciating headaches that leave him sick and on a lot of medication.  For months he has had his head looked at.

Sorry I couldn't resist.
So, at any point he may or may not have an aneurysm or stroke. Lovely. They are still doing a lot of testing and have came up with nothing conclusive at this point, still leaning on hereditary issues.  This is the man that never sits down.  He is always going and always working on the next "project."  Yes that character trait is passed down.  I am my fathers daughter.  We are hoping they find some solid answers soon.  Prayers for him and his ole' dome piece.

Tears of sadness.
 I was going to post a link. But most of the time when people do that no one goes to the link.  I know I don't. I am lazy.  I have no shame.  So instead I will copy and paste this story from my sisters Facebook from a year ago. If you have time to read it get some tissues. If not...make time. My furry nephew is worth the 5 minutes.

Romeo's Story

October 18, 2012 at 9:27pm

I write this post with a very heavy heart, as my beloved fur-baby of 11 years, was diagnosed yesterday evening with Nasal Cancer. Our lovable black lab, appropriately named Romeo, started with bouts of sneezing/nose bleeds out of one nostril back in mid July. After realizing it wasn't just allergies or an irritation from something he snorted up from outside, we took him to the Vet. We learned it was a tumor. The tumor was obviously irritating his entire nasal canal, which would cause him to violently sneeze and then cause the nose bleeds. Our trusted vet of 11 years, recommended we have it removed...immediately. "If we don't?"- I asked .... "Well, the tumor would most likely spread & the symptoms would worsen....& Romeo would most likely only be with us for a few short months” ((a few months….!? my heart broke)). I didn't hesitate another second and the surgery was scheduled within two days. After all the blood work was completed and 2 different x-rays were done, I ordered the surgery to have the tumor removed. I was scared. However, I felt confident in our Vet and his abilities to remove the tumor. I was hopeful and figured things would be just fine. I prayed they would be just fine.

This is after the fact that Romeo just recently (May ‘12) had a small, benign cyst removed from his front right leg. He bounced back after surgery & was completely fine. Actually, he was more active than before the surgery and his arthritis symptoms seemed to almost completely disappear. I was hoping this 2nd surgery would go just as smoothly.

Well…. the nasal surgery was 2 weeks ago, and Doc was able to remove Romeo’s tumor. Most of it. It was attached to his septum and went pretty far back into his nasal cavity. A few days after the Surgery, Romeo seemed to be back to his normal self. Trotting through the front door to eat & get treats after going outside to do his thing. We continued our evening walks & our normal daily routine. He did sneeze a few times within the 2 week period, and although it scared us a little, we figured it was normal/just still irritated from the surgery. Things are looking up…he’s fine, I kept telling myself!

However, at his 2 week post-opt checkup yesterday………the biopsy results revealed…. it is indeed nasal cancer. Which of course has some big, annoying fancy name that I didn’t write down. Why would I? I hate it. I hate cancer. I’m bitter. This isn’t fair. He’s fine… or so I thought.

Romeo, like many other great Labradors, is the best dog and friend I've EVER had. He's been by my side the last 11 & ½ years, first getting me through high school, breakups & college stresses, multiple moves, & many selfish moments. He was by my side through my parents’ divorce, he moved into the first apartment I've ever had on my own, he welcomed both Shadie Cat & Jade into our family with open paws, he proudly walked down the aisle at our wedding, & made it through the hectic home building process with my husband & I. He’s literally been there through it all…good & bad, wagging his tail the whole time. He's such a gentle giant, a total flirt and complete sweetie pie. In all of his 11 years, he has never had a bite nor growl for anyone! Not even his pesky 3 year old min-pin sister who bites and pulls on his ears and drives him nuts! And I can’t forget the nieces & nephews who have grown up with him and crawled all over him & rode him like a horse….literally. Everyone that meets Romeo, simply falls in love with him. He truly is a wonderful dog. I've raised him since a pup (with the help of my Dad when I was still at home/college)... and he is like my child. Probably more spoiled than most children…sadly. No matter how I try and prepare myself for it……..it’s impossible and heartbreaking to imagine my life without the big ol’ lug around.

After leaving the vet yesterday…my husband & I have decided that because of Romeo’s age, the side-effects, no health guarantees, & deeper financial burden, that we are not going to pursue Radiation or Chemo for his nasal cancer. Actually, my vet assured me we were doing the right thing by just simply enjoying what time he has left with us.

Romeo is on a low dose of Tramadol for pain & to calm the sneeze attacks when they come. We will continue to give it to him to make him comfortable. The hardest part about this terrible disease... is the fact that he is lively and in good health otherwise…and not knowing what the future will hold. I do know his whole heart and mind is still with us. If you met Romeo, and didn't hear my story you would never know he even has cancer. He’s just a happy old dog that enjoys laying at your feet and rolling in cow manure every once in awhile. We walk daily, and lord you should see his ears perk up like a puppy when we get out the squeaker toys. He currently eats normally and is on no other medication than the tramadol. I’m confident at this point he is comfortable and happy. Thank you for listening to Romeo’s story. It helps to get it out and I hope I can help others, who may, unfortunately be in this same situation. Prayers and support from my family and friends have gotten me through this so far. I've learned a lot of this page also & i am going to try some of the vitamins that were recommended! Thank you all! God Bless!

Oh Romes.  This big ole lug is the best dog I've ever known. Better than my own? Yes. This week he took a turn for the worse. Sadly the cancer is not letting him eat. He has fought almost a whole year against it but now my sisters biggest fear is upon us.  I have cried all day thinking about not having him in our family. Not having him around for Max to growl at when we show up on trips to PA.  Or the little dogs to romp all over him as he lays quietly on the floor.  Or when we cram all the dogs together and trick them with treats and high pitch voices to take a semi decent fur children photo.  He is not "just a dog" to those of you with no souls.  My breaking heart and abundance of tears can testify of how greatly he will be missed. So if you have extra prayers you can send some to my sister for peace and comfort as she has a rough weekend ahead.

  

Till we meet again old boy. Love your Aunt Rachel.

Understanding

If you are wondering at times why I say or do certain things. It's because I'm broken.  I'm flawed in character.  You can substitute the word broken for infertile at any time.  I like to be honest as most of you that have been following along since the beginning realize.  There is no filter on these lips 90% of the time. "She get it from her momma."   I never ask or want sympathy.  Just an understanding.  So sorry if I come off as a pity party for one.  It seems those days happen a lot around here starting on CD 29, so forgive me and my broken, "unexplained" private parts.  When you fight to overcome something again and again with the same negative results, it becomes annoying after awhile.  Like stepping in chewing gum or hitting all the red lights in town.  When you keep fighting and keep ending up with the same results in particularly a big fat negative result for many years, you become broken.  I feel like I'm a VHS tape in a bluray world.  Getting older each cycle that passes ((whispers soon to be 33)).  I have everything on film. Just not the capability to play it.  Its just not going to work.  Just like my stupid ovaries.  Broken.

Sadness.
Yesterday I felt sad to say the least.  I walked around like a robot. No emotions not even a fake smile.  Except sadness.  As I walked through a store everything around me was moving fast and I felt like I was stuck in slow motion. There is no noise. Just muffled voices.  It sounds like I am underwater but I am on dry land.  I'm pretty sure I had a conversation with an old lady about my dogs while getting food for them.  But I have no idea what she said. I think she has a poodle? Sorry old poodle lady in Walmart. I just wanted dog food and to go home and crawl in bed and never to leave until my husband comes home.  I nod my head during conversations with random people to be on the safe side.  A nod could mean anything so we are going to stick with that until I come out of this.  My emotions are blocking everything out like a clogged artery to my brain. Except sadness of course. My dear friend Chelsea(Starbucks peace and....blog) describe sadness in her blog post from March perfectly. I ask you to read the whole post to get a better grasp on why she wrote it. But here is just a paragraph on exactly how sadness feels.

Infertility has a range of emotions that comes with it – many that you have seen in past blogs: Worry, frustration, pain (physical and mental), joy, sorrow, excitement, celebration … and now, sadness. To those that haven’t experienced the sadness I am talking about, may be confused with how “sadness” differs from “sorrow” or “grief”, but it just does. The kind of sadness I am talking about feels like a big blanket that just wraps around you. It doesn't make you feel incapacitated or hits you violently – it is just there, like a gentle linger of pain. It becomes a sixth sense. Sometimes this sadness feels like you can taste it, feel it, touch it. The awareness of the sadness makes you want to cry, out of pure sympathy for yourself that you feel so … sad.

I am no fortune teller or psychic by any means. I don't believe in those things either. Sorry if you think you're a mind reader or the next Long Island Medium. You can just stop reading and predict the rest of this post if that's the case. I will tell you how it goes in a brief summary. 

Sad. Boring. Makes a joke. Back to being sad. A Gif.  Poor her. Makes another joke. Something about her vagina. Complaining about complainers. A funny Gif. Opinions about feelings.  Inspirational quote.  

Your welcome. 

The future.
I was talking to a friend recently and it brought me to realize something about infertility. You never "beat" it. You only find your way around it. I will always be the infertile girl or mother. Heck I may always be the "infertile Aunt who couldn't have kids."  I sure as hell hope not. But the odds are stacked pretty high and I am sitting on the wrong side of the table right now. Will I ever get a royal flush?  I'd settle for a pair at this point. All I've felt like I've been doing for years is folding every month.  Will I ever forget this journey?  My answer is no.

"Even if you find your way around and end up with a miracle somehow?" 

Still no. I wish I could say yes. That I will forget the pain, the struggles and the lonely nights crying or the thousands of  times spent avoiding social anything.  The numbness, grief, physical side effects, the sadness, or the financial lottery we play.  Lets not forget about many of my girlfriends that will still be struggling if and when I do become pregnant.  Or the millions that I know are out there struggling in silence.  I am not at that point in my life where I can say I will "get over it" or simply forget.  I wish one day I will, God willing, have a child biologically or not, that can simply make me forget.  Who would want to dwell on misery? Not this girl. I find it hard to believe it will be that easy no matter how much love I have for him or her. Will I still be miserable? Of course not.  My heart will be filled with so much joy and happiness, sadness will have no room.  I think having a child will remind me of what it took to get  him or her in my arms.  So will I forget? Until that time comes my answer will be no. An appreciative, grateful, giving thanks reminder that is. Thank you for keeping me up all night.  Thank you for my stretch marks. Thank you for my morning sickness. Thank you for throwing up in my mouth because I was pretending you were an airplane too soon after you ate.  Thank you for pooping and painting yourself and your crib with it. Thank you for no sleep.  I think we get the point.

Lastly, I write this defending not only myself but my sisters who are suffering along with me.  I cannot just bite my tongue and be the better person.  If someone has to be the bad guy, let it be me.

I know pregnancy and parenthood is and can be miserable for a lot of women.  I never said it wasn't.  I am not a naive, idiotic, infertile women who lives under a rock and has never been related to or around a pregnant woman.   I most definitely never said it was "glitter and rainbows" like someone said on, need I say, Facebook.((gag me))  Hence why I only check my notifications but slipped up creating another account.  If you're reading this blog and you are one of those "social media sympathy junkies", and get easily offended by my posts, pregnant or not.  Simply do not read my blog.  I never said you have no right to freedom of speech or to complain about your left nipple being bigger than your right because your knocked up or if your having a bad year.  I simply asked you to "know your audience and be a decent human being." Telling me I know nothing about being pregnant, that just makes you look heartless and like a fool.  You're kind of stating the obvious.  Infertile over here.   Please unfollow or block me if its taken you that long to realize this after my 27th post on infertility.  No judgement will be passed. Libertarian for the hundredth time.  If  I am ever blessed with becoming pregnant just know I will never forget the road it took to get me there. I will be forever thankful. No glitter and no rainbows. Cankles and stretch marks galore.  While complaining you might have forgotten that us dumb "infertiles" are shot up with fertility drugs, aka(pregnancy hormones just to start) for years at a time.  And no I don't feel the undying urge to complain on Facebook or to the public about my side effects and symptoms that only end in devastation over and over again.  That's what my husband  is for(god bless him) .

Just remember when your spouting out how miserable you are to the world during your pregnancy or parenthood or how you have the right to complain.  The millions of women, like below, who are being pushed out of a hospital by their spouses after suffering a miscarriage.  Furthermore, unlike the movie, many of these woman have paid the cost financially, physically and emotionally repeatedly.  Sometimes even paying for a D&C.  I would suggest you have a little bit of grace and humanity until you have your baby in your arms.  Because what if the tables were turned my dear? What if........?

Ps....Still not pregnant.