Infertile gym selfies and no self control

Let me start by apologizing to the gang of reporters writing my biography.  I'm sorry I don't take a hundred selflies at the gym so you know I actually go to the gym.  This is the I workout gym post about not posting about the gym....post.

Wait. 

What??

Seriously. If I had a dollar for every how do you stay so in shape question I wouldn't be bitching about the cost of IVF. 

Instead I would have the twins paid off and they'd be starting second grade already. Hash tagging the shit out of #twinning. Just kidding. Hash tagging the shit out of  #whatthehellwerewethinking.

Not really. But. Reallllyyy.

That was my attempt at letting the peanut gallery know how many embryos we are hoping to be transferring. Uno, deuce. You got it peanuts. Two. 

"Why?"

Because I said so!!!!

Sorry. Just practicing for the future. How'd I do?

But really. Why not? 

We will have waited a billion years by the time our hopefully 2015 babies are born. And we would be more than ecstatic with just one. I can't even wrap my tiny little brain around having two.

To be done with struggling with infertility every day. To close the book. Wam bam thank you for paying for one and you get two blessings mam.  It was a no-brainer for us. And every couple chooses differently for different reasons.  As they should.

This is of course if everything goes as we plan. Hopefully, if, depending on, planning, try, maybe, praying key words in our life until the above happens.  Which it doesn't always as we have learned. It's not "our" plan remember. Points to the sky. 

But that is the decision we have made. Not that I need to explain that to anyone.  If you want to transplant a turtle shell to your back, change your name to Michelangelo and take orders from a rat. By all means. Turtle power. Freedom and liberty man.

 Way off track. Always. 

Oh yes speaking of rats.
Gym rats..... 

I would like to think good genes have something to do with my body at 33(which is far from old) but this ship isn't the ole', "hey I'm 18 and I'll eat this whole pizza tonight, never workout and still have abs." 

Fucking prison. 

So to the gym I go and eating boring salads lots of meat while trying to side step every carb in sight it is.

Let us not forget to mention the healthier you are, the easier it is to become Pregnant! 

Allegedly.

So in hind sight I guess I can thank my infertility for keeping me in shape theoretically. Knowing we are planning on transplanting two embies and wanting to be the healthiest possible for those babies and myself is honestly the first priority.  Also by the time our kids are playing sports and running around like the wild banshees they will be; we will be approaching 40(yuck).  Lets not leave out my gym rat husband who at 31 gets a six pack from eating a protein bar. Stupid motivator. Plus I feel great about how I feel and that's not such a bad thing when life takes a dump on your "plans".

This ship isn't in shape from bulimia or starvation for those of you hoping I had another disease to go along with infertility. 

I'll take an infertility happy meal with a large bulimia and a diet anorexia please. 

"That will be $15,000 and a short life mam."

 What a steal. And I didn't even use a coupon.

That thrifty life tho.

So there you have it. Working out and eating healthy for years over here you little novelist you.

Snooze button. 

Occasional there's this thing called the weekends that pop up out of no where and I'm like. Hold up. Wait a minute. What do I do with all this awesome food?

 Duh. Eats everything in sight. 

And then a Kim K.'s ass sized amount of regret on Monday while hoards of chocolate and cheese seaps out my pores as I watch the time creep by with each running step on the treadmill laughing at my weekend of gorging hell. 

"Ha ha ha. Fatty. Bet you will never do that again," my treadmill conscious whispers.

Never. Again. I tell myself out of breath.

With each pounding sweaty step.

 I. Would. Rather. Dieeeeee. 

And then I do the exact same thing the very next weekend. 

Speaking of weekends I would like to share that we will be experiencing our first Missouri float trip this weekend.  It involves a river, sunshine, friends, and tubes/rafts. Adult beverages are a given.

But since I'm "cleansing" water it is.

Hopefully karma will be avoided for me making fun of central MO being a blackhole and this weekend will not end in me drinking too much"water", falling off of my tube and drowning on the Roubidoux as forever an infertile. Cheese pores and all. 

...............to be continued.

I hope. 

ps. We had our first appointment in Columbia where we will be doing our IVF.  First thing on the agenda is to remove my tubes. So depending on when I can get these fuckers cut out of me and recovered is when we can start.  I would have them slice and dice me tomorrow but that's not the way it works at a military hospital especially when they don't even cover any type of infertility. So as soon as I get a call from my OB here I will let y'all know when we will be starting IVF.  It could be October or it could be February depending on the tube situation and the holidays and the weather. Deep breathes for waiting another six months(maybe). 

pss if you do take a hundred gym selfies and post them everyday. Keep it up. What's wrong with being in shape? Why is everyone so mad at fit people. Oh wait because they are lazy.  Someone can just unfollow that shit if it's not their cup of tea. Just like me and people who complain about pregnancy, kids, or their husbands. That's not the point I was making. Just to be clear. 

Back to school called. They want your ovaries.

I was five seconds away from a full blown panic attack this week in the classiest of places. Yep you guessed it. 

Walmart. 

I was just running in to get a few crafty things for my Etsy when I ran into a Crayola display knocking over fifty boxes of stupid little crayons(that I didn't pick up..ha ha...take that infertility) side tracked by the huge yellow signs and twelve isles that threw up notebooks, pens, and paper. 

Damn it.  Is this shit really happening again!??

I had tweeted awhile back. "You know you're old when your high school friends are enrolling their kids in high school. Hashtag old. Hashtag infertile. Hashtag scrambeld eggs. Hashtag bitter." 

If we could go ahead and cancel "back to school", Mothers Day, Fathers Day, Easter and Christmas that would be just great. Thanks. 

Those five reasons right there makes it absolutely impossible for me to understand "secondary" infertility.  Sorry?  Maybe it is because I already understand the reality of my infertility at almost 34(bah bah bahmm).  We are only affording ourselves one obnoxiously overpriced crock of shit billion dollar greedy industry IVF(tell us how you really feel) so if we are successful with just one I will thank my lucky blessed fertile gods God every day.

And myself and husband for the emotional and physical hell we are about to endure for a chance at this gift.  

True mother trucking story.

And the embryologist for knowing his/her shit.  

I wanted to have kids since I was very young and not just one. More like 4...teen. Thats the thing with infertility.  People ask me often "how long have you been trying." For me mentally I have had the desire and longing to be a mom since I was young.  I was told in high school that I would come back to class reunions with five kids running around annoying the shit out of everyone.

Way to prove them wrong infertility. Thank you.  Asshole.  

Silver lining is I would have never met my husband  in 2004 and would be stuck in a dead end unhappy relationship divorced with 4 kids.

"You're welcome Rachel."

Sincerely,

Infertility.(bitch)

But the reality that keeps slapping drop kicking me in the face every time something like this rolls around is that time does not stop for anyone and with it goes the holidays and your friends and families kids getting older while you enjoy sleeping in, adult dinners and doing whatever the hell you want without annoying little shits tagging along fucking up your perfect day. That is just disgusting.  Who would ever hope for such a dream.

But really.....

Where is my back to school list damn it? Oh here it is......

Back to school on reading an infertiles mind:

Pretty much.

...even this end cap is mocking us. Therapy much?

There are no book bags to be bought. No  ridiculously long and expensive  fun school lists to cross off. No first day of school pictures with the cute Pinterest printables you forgot to print so you scribbled on a notebook piece of paper the morning of.  No little league games to cheer at. No prize Easter eggs to hunt. No cards for mommy and daddy telling them,  "how mutch you luv thim, exspecalee win u giv me kake".  No tooth-fairy dust to leave. No summer beach vacations building sand castles, lathering on bottle after bottle of unwanted sunscreen then hauling 200lbs of crap to the beach and even though you bought the more expensive cooler with wheels your shit is still dragging like you are pulling a 757, while your six and seven year old are screaming their feet are burning because they took their shoes off like you told them not too(true story). No special pajamas to open on Christmas Eve or reindeer food to leave. No.....

Ok, seriously we get it Rachel. Calm your ovaries tits.  

Point is I am feeling the pressure squeezing down on my eggs to get this shitshow on the road. With every childless passing school year and holiday I feel the squeeze.  Even though I shop buy everything for my niece and nephew EVERY year who are now teens because they have horrible  awesome parents is a reminder of just how old and childless I still am. 

Mini-vent.  The fact that I have called the base hospital twice a day for the fifth day, just to get my lab results so I can start my prescription, with no call back yet doesn't help either. 

No matter how positive you tell yourself  to be every day. Every week. Month after month. Year after year. We just can't cancel the miscarriage due dates, holidays or back to school shopping(I've tried but people thought it was infertile ignorant of me) because Rachel stubbed her toe on the way up the fertile ladder. That's what they make wine for. Go have a glass or ten and feel better about yourself.  err..temporarily..then repeat?

You could avoid all retail stores in  March, end of July-September, and definitely November and December. Huge red your period will probably come twice those months flag. 

Or it will be late for those months thinking you struck the infertile lottery of "she was on a break from IVF and TTC for 10 years and got pregnant miraculously. On her own of course."  

...or just have some kale.

"Thanks Ryan.  But you have to stop giving me all this kale. My husband is bound to catch on to us once he finds this blog."

but in the meantime.....

Smooches. Lover boy.

I have solutions for everything. You are welcome.

Bye.

Game of Infertility Referrals

Let me start by saying if you don't watch game of thrones. We can't be friends. 

Ok...so really we just started watching this year and watched four seasons in the amount of time it takes your typical 18 year old military gal to get knocked up. Which is one day. 

Before or after the shotgun wedding. Yee haw(reaks of bitterness)

Ok so maybe a day is a little harsh. Let's go with a few weeks.

So here I am. Sitting at my awaited 45 day OB referral to get a real referral to someone who actually can end this train wreck of infertility. 

Do I need to explain why us infertiles hate OB offices. I'm literally biting my tongue at every scream or complaining conversation from the next beluga whale that plops down beside me with her basketball team. 

This is what I learned while I waited to be seen.

Jackie says she, "really really hopes I get enduced this week, I CAN NOT take this anymore." 

...and her husband responds, "me neither."

I laughed under my breathe barely concealing a smile and thinking me too Jackie and I've only known you for five minutes. Meee toooo....  

Then Stacy wedged in between them and myself two seats down. Hello I picked the only chair all by myself in the corner for a reason. Next time I'm wearing a shirt that says: 

I HAVE AIDS. 

And then show up with a slew of band-aids and a breathing mask.

So this peach Stacy, let all of us know, while on the phone, how much this "kid" was making her back hurt. Her other three "were SOOOOO much easier. She just couldn't believe she was pregnant again and having ANOTHER baby. I don't know how we are going to afford another one in diapers."

Well for starters Sta-CEE.  How about you hop on down to the pharmacy and pick up some FREE birth control. Hell I can't even reproduce and they threw a 90 day supply at me without any questions.  Orrrr how about you not buy a $200 dollar Coach purse or make a trip to the nail salon every month. And that took me all of thirty seconds of an eye rolling glance as she sat down. 

Yea yea maybe the purse was a gift and maybe she does her own nails. I don't care next time she should shut her fat pregnant mouth.

This is why infertiles do not go to an OB-GYN for infertility. Do not pass go do not collect anything besides a bitch fit along the way. And bitterness. 

Thank you Tricare or United Health. Whatever they are deciding to call it these days for that over due appointment no matter how surprised I was at the OB. You don't even cover infertility so it's more like a sick and twisted game of "Lets see how long we can prolong this while watching others over reproduce on our dime and we hand them free baby shit showers as a fertile grand prize." 

I hope you paid close attention and heeded my warning from the rantpesode I taught today. 

To summarize:

99% of the patients and workers at the hospital on base have no clue what you are going through. They Dependas will say things outloud to make you want to punch them. 

Bite your tongue. Roll your eyes.  Mind your own business. Take lots of deep breaths. And remember thank god that you aren't Jackie or Stacy. 

Most importantly go home and have a drink or seven. Just kidding I'm in my pre IVF "cleanse."

"CLEANSSSE"

 Bullshit. 

Sidenote.  The OB on base today was surprisingly helpful and knew more than the last 2 OBs who gave two shits if I got pregnant within this century. Shocker I know!  I was pinching myself to make sure he wasn't a mirage dreamt up by my infertile mind to block out the history of bad apples I had to bite.  He suggested ICSI IVF(more expensive of course, having another Lap surgery prior to IVF and removing my tubes completely along with a list of what to ask my RE(which he put in for whom I wanted). Also he did an ultrasound since I'm again 2 months late. Everything looked fine but just to be 1000%....

I strolled downstairs to the Lab to get an HCG blood test to confirm what we already know before starting BCPs.....

YOU HAD ONE JOB! 

(...which didn't include the weird/rude comments about how you hated "this type of test" which completely through me off...."hated this type of test??" 

What does that even mean?? Like you hate pregnancy HCG tests?

No? 

These "bad ones...mumbled something...scary tests," 

What does that even mean?? Scary???

Don't worry I stopped him in his dumbass tracks with a nothing scares me at this point. I'm not pregnant, this is my Dr. wanting to start me on IVF medication comment as he put the needle in startled by my sarcasm and almost poked through my arm.)

moving on.....my OB also wanted an MRI(to help see how my endo is doing to maybe rule out another Lap surgery) scheduled in Radiology and a trip to the Pharmecy for the BCPs. And that completes my own period bloody tour of the base hospital. Go me. 

So giant thanks to Dr. P for caring and understanding my little infertile bubble in this army land of  ferts farts.  You made walking around with period blood all over me today and sitting with my polar reproductive opposites worth it.

And I just called fertiles, farts. Awesome. 

Ok. Bye. 

When I Grow Up I Want To Be Infertile

When I was a little girl I always dreamed of the days I would sit and blog about my broken reproductive private parts to the world on a giant web of a public diary.  The same little girl, that thought she would have a flying car hovering in the driveway of her beach house after arriving home from swimming with dolphins she studies in the Florida Keys.  I sit here five months from turning 34 and I still don't have a damn dolphin not even one goldfish(except the ones you can eat.) Dreams crushed. Hope gone.  My reproductive organs are absolutely living up to the sarcastic dream that once was. I am living out my dream of never becoming pregnant with every passing month. Woo hoo...the gold star goes to me for accomplishing such a feat without one single abortion.    

 

Abortion. Something I was struggling with the past few months. Technically you could say I aborted our baby?  I haven't blogged about that day but I keep hearing "you've became pregnant already once in 4 years on fertility drugs it could happen again and not be ectopic." The middle east ending in peace is more likely to happen before the chance of me having a successful pregnancy without IVF.

So here we go....

The baby was growing and my numbers were tripling with each ultrasound and blood draw. Enter the tragic "but"...But "I am sorry it appears the fetus has implanted in your fallopian tube and there is nothing in your uterus," as my RE so graciously and caringly put it. I feel bad for him now thinking about how many women he has to give such crushing news too. At the same time I would assume calling the next infertile couple with perfect HCG levels or finding a viable heartbeat for the first time outweighs the other heartbreak.  At the time I was so distraught and on the verge of breaking down when we heard those lines I was only thinking about myself, my husband and our baby.  I remember his expressionless face to this day as he searched around with that cold and invasive ultrasound wand. I think I could have set a Guinness book of world record for holding my breathe while being examined by a doctor. Up to this point I was almost seven weeks along and everything was fine from what we were told at the impromptu emergency room visit the week prior due to some excruciating rupturing cysts and lots of heart stopping blood.

I had the choice of surgery(D&C) or a series of very strong chemotherapy drugs(MTX), shot into my hips, which basically causes my body to "abort the fetus." I chose the hip action as you know if you already read my Gone To Soon post. I am not sure why besides my Dr. telling me it was what he suggested and at this point it seemed the easier option.  I wanted to escape everything medical at this point.  No more Drs. No more beeping ultrasounds. No more hospital. No more scars. No more nurses.

I laid on the table mindless like a zombie waiting on my shots.  I was numb to everything. My husband couldn't make the drive do to a military course and my nurse was dumbfounded when I told her I came alone.  I felt scolded and now even more concerned for what my body was about to go through physically. Needless to say I had to wait an hour after the shots to make sure I was ok to drive.  After my hour was up I borrowed stole as many pads and tampons I could fit in my purse out of emotional meltdown rage at the world.

Karma came weeks later in the form of a bill for the MTX shots. 

Thanks Tri(doesn't)Care. The bad stuff came later that night. And by bad I mean worst night of my life physically and emotionally.  That night made it crystal clear that IVF was our only option as I cried out loud in pain flip flopping from the floor back to the bed all night with the help of my husband.  Was this normal? Did we need to rush to the ER again?  The ER was the last place on earth I wanted to be so there I laid thinking about my decision of the MTX.  I justified my decision that the baby would have ruptured my tube causing me to internally bleed to death and lost him or her anyways.    I was never putting myself or my husband through that again.  After eight weeks of bleeding, hair loss, bronchitis, a hormonal shitshow of emotions and avoiding social media it was time to get it together.

Whether or not I have a 34% chance to have a normal pregnancy after Lindsey Lohaning on fertility drugs.

There is the other 66% ectopic chance of it happening again and the nightmare that is detailed above for those who keep questioning my decision to move forward with IVF.

IVF.  Hopefully I will have more news on that front soon. My appointment I've waited 45 days for is finally this week to an OB who can't help me but will only submit another referral to an RE since my PCM(family doctor) here in Missouri doesn't know how to submit referrals to RE's directly apparently. 

Regardless of all the absolute nonsense I already found a highly recommended RE in Columbia and will be handing that information over to my OB to do the referral job for my PCM and now OB. I would send myself a thank you card but I will leave the narcissism to Facebook.  Which, by the way, I feel like the grinch every time I go on that sympathy driven, self patronizing website just to catch up with family a thousand miles away and randomly end up seeing people still crying about sleep, hunger, hormones and weight gain because they got knocked up for free, leading me to have to delete them.  Please just delete me already. I feel like my feelings on that were clear. Thanks.

My appointment with the OB should give me something to rant write about and then its onward to aiming for IVF this fall depending on how soon our RE says we can start the craziness.

So that leaves us with a creepers paradise of pictures I have been meaning to post since our move to Missouri. I know I was hating life for the first few weeks but the time since spent with military friends that are family, an out of state wedding, a quick surprise trip to PA for my sisters baby shower, lots of corn hole, my fave holiday weekend/9 year dating anniversary and fattening dinners with friends make any place paradise! Missouri is what you make of it and we are making the most of it.

I wanted to add this link to this post on Abortion and Miscarriages because I felt she was inside my head when I read each word. I saved it for last because well, we all know you would forget if I shared it in the beginning or middle. Hope you can relate as much as I did!