An Open Letter to Infertiles: Let’s Have Our Own Day

To Whom It May Concern:

I want to talk to you the day after Father’s Day. Let me start by saying, well done. You did it. You made it through. There are no more “parent” holidays for the next 11 months. As a bonus, wedding season is almost over; you won’t have to sit through a bridal shower as well-meaning old women pester the soon-to-be bride about starting a family, knowing first-hand that for many, it isn’t as simple as a matter of choice. You have until the next baby announcement or Thanksgiving, whichever comes first, before you suddenly feel like you’ve been slapped in the face, again, with the fact that you’re not the like rest of the fertile world.  Continue reading “An Open Letter to Infertiles: Let’s Have Our Own Day”


Ladies, I need your help

Calling all the infertility ladies that have purchased fertility drugs: Written In Pen needs some input on the best route to take for purchasing infertility drugs. Your personal experiences are invaluable! Please leave her a comment here or at her original post!

My Heart, My Reflections

(This post, although tagged as secondary infertility, talks about infertility and my current pregnancy.)

Every new year, people are expected to reflect on the passing year’s triumphs and trials.  We expect ourselves and others to take these triumphs and trials and learn from them, make them all mean something.  Sometimes, you just can’t get the bad things to make sense.  Sometimes, you just can’t find the good or the silver lining.  I am beyond blessed as this year closes to be aware of many more triumphs than trials.  I also find myself slightly overwhelmed by the past year’s events as I reflect, looking back on where I was a year ago.

Last year, I was desperately wanting my body to cooperate with my heart’s desire.  I wanted a baby, and I couldn’t have one.  My body wasn’t functioning well.  I was fighting what felt like a losing battle with my weight to try to control my polycystic ovary syndrome and the insulin resistance that went along with it.  I had Eva, my then five-year-old daughter, but it was looking more and more likely that she would never have a brother or sister (at least not from me).  All of those ladies out there that have been where I was a year ago know that I am leaving out big chunks that resemble jagged, broken messes of emotion.  There isn’t a way to explain the emotions that infertility can evoke.  I don’t think for a second that the emotions are the same for every person, either, but I know that there is a woman reading this right now nodding her head in agreement.  She knows what I knew last year.  Her heart hurts and aches as mine did last year.  She feels the same as I did about resolutions last year–that they are pointless when the only thing you really want seems to be completely unattainable.

Last year, I struggled with eating right.  I started juicing; I joined a gym.  I hated that I devoted at least eights hours of my time a week to exercise.  Eight hours I felt I should be spending with Eva and my husband.  I couldn’t stop, either, though.  I could not control my ovaries or my hormones, so I gained control where I could with eating right and exercising.  I remember spending snow days with Eva, pulling her along in her sled as I ran because I couldn’t make it to the gym to exercise those days.  I ran in snow boots, with shin splints, because it was something I could do when there wasn’t much else to be done.  This is the photo that sticks in my mind:


It was the best way to help with the pain of the shin splints.  Eva always thought it was rather funny to see her popsicles on my legs.  I started going to Zumba, changing my exercise routine to try to keep my body from plateauing.  I found that I enjoyed Zumba, too, which was definitely nice.  I had friends there and support as well from a dear friend that ran with me after we just spent an hour sweating.  She listened as I poured out my frustrations.  She listened as I poured out my hope that Clomid would be it for me.  It wasn’t, and she listened to my disappointment as well.  Thank you, friend, you know who you are.  You made it all a little easier to take.

So, yes, a picture of my shins being soothed by popsicles is what sticks in my mind for last year around this time.  But, this year, so much has changed.  I hope next year, this picture will be what sticks in my mind about New Year’s Eve:


I got to see my precious little boy today in more detail than we have yet seen him.  I got to hold these photos in my hand, to hold them up and compare his face to his father’s.  I got to see the likeness father and son share.  There is a woman reading this right now that knows this feeling, too.  She knows what this means to my heart, my being.  This little baby is a restoration of hope.  He is a reminder that sometimes life isn’t perfect, but sometimes the imperfections can make life so much sweeter in the end.  I can’t express it all; I’m just not that articulate.

This year, I can find my silver lining.  I can make the bad things mean something.  I can look favorably on my life tonight, with a heart softened by circumstance and ultrasound photos.  I can find all my hope that had been withering at this point last year.  My hope is fed and freshened by my son with every kick and punch and jab and roll he takes.  God has answered my most fervent prayers this time with something other than a no.  I don’t know why, but I just know that gratefulness doesn’t cover it.  I am beyond thankful for my family.

Now, this next year, I just wish I could eliminate infertility for every other woman out there struggling.  I know that there isn’t anything I can do or say to ease the pain of the woman that is struggling tonight with infertility.  She knows that most attempts to ease her pain by others usually results in more pain.  There isn’t a single good thing to say to someone dealing with infertility.  There just isn’t; so I don’t try.  I usually offer hugs when I comment on many posts, because hugs are the best I can offer.  Tonight, I do the same.

Five Things You Don’t Say

Five things you do not say to a woman (married or otherwise):

1. “So, when are you going to have a baby?”

Well, the bottom line here is asking such a question is rude, to say the least.  This question is based on the assumption that everyone has the physical ability to conceive, carry, and deliver a healthy child.  If only that were the case, infertility therapy/medication/treatment/procedures wouldn’t be a BILLION dollar industry!  I have no idea whether Susie Q next door has been trying to conceive for seven years, or if she has had twelve miscarriages, or seventeen failed IVFs (in vitro fertilization), or thirty failed FETs (frozen embryo transfer), or if parenthood is just not for her.  Furthermore, it is none of my business.

2. “You better start trying to have a baby soon before you get too old and can’t.”

See previous explanation.

3. “You just need to relax.”

This is usually something a woman struggling with infertility hears from someone she has chosen to confide in about her struggles.  If relaxation was the cure for infertility, again there would not be a BILLION dollar infertility industry in full swing across the globe.  This statement assumes that she didn’t do what everyone usually does when they initially begin to try to conceive.  Most fertile couples simply stop preventing pregnancy, have sex when it sounds good, and within a few months a pregnancy occurs.  That is certainly how it happened for me the first time around.  Once women quit “relaxing” about conceiving, it is usually because there is something wrong!  There is a reason to be upset!  Telling someone to relax doesn’t make that problem go away.  When someone told me to relax, I wanted to ask her if she had heard a single word I had said.  It definitely didn’t seem she had, or she wouldn’t have told me to just relax.

4. “Let go and let God.” 

I do believe in God.  I also believe we have technology and medicine for a reason.  The person saying this statement probably wouldn’t hesitate to take a Tylenol or an Advil if he or she was in pain.  The person saying this statement has most likely taken antibiotics for an infection at some point in his or her life.  Maybe next time he or she is sick, they should let go and let God, too.

5. “As soon as you stop trying, you’ll end up pregnant.”

This is usually accompanied with an anecdote about so-and-so’s neighbor’s cousin’s sister who tried to have a baby for years and finally got pregnant when she quit trying.  As soon as you quit working, you will become a millionaire.  The above statement and the statement I just made are based on the same principle–dumb, indiscriminate, one-in-a-billion-chance luck.  I don’t play the lottery, but it sounds to me like maybe every infertile woman out there should give up their dream of ever having a child of their own and put all that money they would have spent in playing the lottery.  Then every infertile woman can be a mom AND a millionaire!

Five things you DO say to a woman:

1. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

When a friend tells me something that she finds upsetting, it doesn’t really matter if I happen to agree that it is something to be upset about.  It isn’t my issue to deal with, but it is my job as a decent human to be compassionate.  This simple statement could change her day.  This statement could, even just for a moment, make her feel like someone cares and she isn’t alone.  I want to be a friend, because someday I will need a friend, too.

2. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Again, if I’m upset, and my friend asks me this question, I don’t feel quite so alone with my troubles.  Sometimes that is all I need.

3. Say nothing, listen.

Body language can say so much when accompanied by silence.  Sometimes I just need someone to sit attentively and listen while I spill all my frustrations, hurts, and fears.  This outpouring can be better than several therapy sessions, at least a bottle of wine, and several bubble baths.

4. “I’m not sure what to say, but I’m sorry this is happening to you.”

Honesty is such a funny little thing.  Being honest makes my statements genuine and heartfelt.  If I truly have no idea how to approach a situation, or an outpouring as discussed above, it is okay to admit it.  I still want her to know that I care, even if I don’t have the right words.  I never expect someone to have all the answers, and sometimes implying they do by giving me advice when I just need an ear will just add to my frustration.

5. “I can’t tell you how you should or shouldn’t feel about anything, and I’m listening if you want to tell me how you are feeling.”

This one statement can be so powerful!  Sometimes, I feel like I need permission to feel what I feel.  Sounds like psycho-babble, I know.  Sometimes I try to suppress a feeling if I don’t think it is appropriate for the situation, though.  For example, feeling sad is to be expected after another failed attempt to conceive.  Feeling relieved that a particularly rough cycle is over is less expected.  Then feeling relieved can make me feel guilty and even blame myself for the failed cycle.  Maybe I secretly didn’t want it work.  Maybe that is why I feel relieved.  Such a horrible cycle of damaging emotion.  If I can feel my feelings without negative judgement, especially judgement placed on me by others, I have a better chance of working through all my conflicting emotions.


Obviously this only scratches the surface a bit.  Assuming I know someone’s situation, and then making statements based on those assumptions, will undoubtedly end with me looking foolish and callous, and the other party feeling defensive and possibly injured.  I can’t ever expect to know how someone else feels unless that person tells me.  I also don’t expect someone else to know how I feel unless I tell them.  The next time someone says one of the above insensitive statements, I know I won’t hesitate to politely let them know how rude and thoughtless such a statement can be.  Before I struggled with secondary infertility, I was guilty of thoughtlessly asking those I considered friends if or when they would be having children.  If only things were really that simple, and if only someone had told me the world isn’t always so black and white.

I Just Can’t Resist


I took another test last night, and again this morning first thing. The result (thankfully!) was the same. The picture above was from the test this morning.

As I was preparing to take the test last night, I still had to go through an entire mental conversation to prepare myself for a negative result. Some things never change I suppose, or at least do not change quite so quickly as I would like. I told myself that it was okay if the test was negative because I was using urine from in the evening, not first morning urine. I told myself it was okay if it was negative this time because I had been drinking quite a bit of water and peeing every hour. I told myself that it was okay if the test was negative this time, because at least I got a positive in that morning.

I don’t know why I bothered with such a talk because I definitely would not have felt that anything was okay if the test had been negative. As the test (a Clear Blue digital, as you can see) was sitting on my bathroom counter with the little hour glass flickering on and off on the display, over and over, I started to panic for a moment. Why was it taking so long? I had never used a digital test before. I was used to some sort of result fairly quickly. I made myself take a breath and read the instructions again, this time looking for how long the test is supposed to take. It said 3 minutes for a pregnant or not pregnant result to show, and then another 3 minutes before it told me how many weeks. By the time a clear, digital “Pregnant” displayed on the screen I let out a deep sigh. I was instantly relieved.

The test says 2-3 weeks since conception. Follow the instructions and this means that I am 4-5 weeks pregnant, not the 6 I had calculated. My last period was June 5th. This Thursday should be week 7. Since I don’t know when ovulation occurred, I guess I will just have to wait for the ultrasound to get a more reliable date.

I called my ob/gyn’s office today to schedule an appointment at the 8 week mark. I told them I was a bit confused when that really would be. The nurse assured me that they would figure it out for sure when they did the ultrasound, but for now we would go by my last period. This means my appointment is only a week from this Thursday! I am so excited for this!

Now that I don’t have my mind ignoring symptoms, I am finally realizing I have so many pregnancy symptoms I have been ignoring. I’m starting to feel more confident that this is really happening, and that everything will work out.

My husband’s best friend and his girlfriend came over last night and were here when I got home from work. My husband hadn’t given a single thought to the bathroom trash containing a positive pregnancy test. The friend’s girlfriend had seen it, and she was ready to pounce when I got home from work. I was not very welcoming of her congratulations, however. I should have been more gracious, but I felt like her happiness and congratulations could be unfounded, and worse that she was somehow jinxing the whole thing. That maybe I’m not really pregnant (I had only taken one test a that time), or that maybe something is wrong since I did not get a positive until cycle day 45. So ridiculous, especially since I am writing blog posts about it. I told my two closest friends as well. I supposed it just caught me off guard since she found out by looking in my trash, not because I chose to tell her. I’m hoping to start that conversation over with her in a week.

Well, Eva comes home from California this Saturday. I can hardly wait! I will be off work for a few days after her return so we can get some much needed time in together. I am wondering now when and how to tell Eva to expect a baby brother or sister? Anyone have any suggestions? I am thinking that it will be more real if I at least have an ultrasound picture to show her, but when is the appropriate time? I don’t want her to feel left out, and I definitely want her to be the first to know before our families are told.

What great problems to have! Thank you everyone for all the congratulations and well wishes and comments!

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

Today is cycle day 45.  I took a home pregnancy test on cycle days 34, 35, and 37, all of which were negative.  I also used an ovulation prediction kit on days 10 through 32, and I never got a positive on a LH (leutinizing hormone) with the prediction kit.  In my mind, I didn’t ovulate this cycle.  I take Metformin twice daily in an attempt to manage my polycystic ovaries (PCOS).  I take prenatal gummies, also. Otherwise, I am medication free since my previous cycle using Clomid.

On cycle day 37, I set a goal for myself.  I felt like my body was trying to do something on its own, so I was going to wait until cycle day 45, today, to test for pregnancy again.  Then after my negative test result, I would begin the Provera to induce a period, again.

As I was taking my pregnancy test this morning, I was repeating like a mantra, “You didn’t ovulate, don’t get your hopes up.”  I had zero expectations this time around even though I have been experiencing some symptoms.  My symptoms have been misleading before, so I didn’t give them any credence.

Instead of my very expected negative, I saw two lines, not one!  My pregnancy test was a poaitive! 

I don’t want to say the words, “I’m pregnant”, until such things can be confirmed with an ultrasound, but every hour that passes since I got my positive this morning, it is becoming more real.  I am cautiously thrilled! 

I woke my husband up at 5:45 this morning and shoved a pregnancy test in his face after flipping on the light. 

I said, “Clear your eye boogers and then look at this.”

He stared bleary eyed and grumbling for a minute before he laid back down.  Impatient, I had asked him something like did he see two lines or not, to which he replied there are two lines.  His next question made me smile.  He said, “What’s that mean?”

I just smiled and said something that implied he figure it out on his own.  His next response was something along the lines of his life is over, he will be poor forever, we will never buy a house now, etc., as he covered his face with the blanket.

Anyone who knows my husband knows this is his version of happiness.  If he doesn’t have something to, sort of, complain about then he isn’t happy.  We could buy his dream house for half its market value, and after he signs the dotted line he would say something about how horrible it will be to clean out the gutters since he is afraid of heights. 

I finished getting ready for work and headed out the door after kissing my husband (who was still mumbling complaints) goodbye. 

I am one happy girl right now!  I sent texts to two very dear friends that have been so supportive, letting them know my news.  Both were asleep and neither answered for a couple hours.  I almost called both of them to wake them up.  I was instead considerate of their poor husbands who would prefer to sleep in, I’m sure.

My prayer through all of this has been that either God change my heart, or change my circumstances.  I desperately wanted to be pregnant before I turned thirty.  At the beginning, when I first discovered I have PCOS, my prayer was that I be pregnant before thirty.  This was my heart’s desire.  Thirty is less than a week away now, and so I had already come to terms with the situation.  I thought perhaps God was telling me things would happen on His timeline, not mine.  Here it is, though, my positive pregnancy test before I turned thirty!  Talk about dramatic timing!  I wonder if God has a sense of humor?  If so, surely He is smiling about this one.  He really had me going. 

For all the Dr. Google experts out there, anyone know if it is common to test negative for LH but still ovulate?  I’m trying to be very cautious with my expectations until I can get an ultrasound to confirm things.  If I go by my last period, I am six weeks.  The other issue is that I did not get a positive on my tests last week, so I don’t know if I can really say I’m six weeks.  So, no ultrasound for two more weeks at least.  I’m not sure I can wait two weeks in such uncertainty much less three or four.

Maybe it’s time to buy an expensive pregnancy test and try to see what range my hCG levels are in…


Me, Myself, and I

I am about to be thirty years old.  The big 3-0. I am about to journey into a new and unfamilar world called no-longer-in-my-twenties place.  Maybe I need to come up with a better name.  You get the point, though, I’m sure.

I cried a lot when I hit twenty-five.  I felt like I didn’t have anything to show for my quarter of a century I had already spent on this earth.  I did not have a college degree, a house of my own, or even a nice car or decent job.  I was in the middle of a divorce, living with my parents, working part time at a crappy minimum wage job, going to school part time, and being a single parent full time.  I was also one step away from cervical cancer at the beginning of the year.  No one thinks about mortality at age twenty-four, or at least I certainly hadn’t until I was forced.  It never reached cancer (thank you, Lord), but there was definitely a moment where that was a possibility.   There was also a moment where my future fertility came in to question.  I didn’t want another child then, but I also didn’t want that choice to be taken from me (ha, Irony, you are clever, indeed).  To say it was a rough year leading up to twenty-five is to say that Nevada doesn’t have an overabundance of rainfall in a year.  Rough doesn’t cover it.  Rough is an understatement.  I was a mess, or so I thought at the time.

Looking forward at age twenty-five, I couldn’t see how I was going to ever improve my situation without sacrificing significant time with my daughter.  I couldn’t see how I would ever afford more than a hole-in-the-wall, one bedroom apartment, and even that was a stretch.  I couldn’t see how I would ever finish my degree.  I couldn’t see how I would ever trust a man enough again to let him in to my world.

Here I am, five years later now.  I feel like there has been so much that has happened in the last five years.  Not only in my circumstances, but so much has happened in me, in my heart and mind.  I finally feel like a grown up.  I have realized no adult ever has all the answers, and that’s okay.  I have realized that having my priorities organized properly is the most important part of my decision-making process.  If I have a clear picture of my top priorty (my family, of course), then everything else will fall in line.  I can make quick, right decisions if I have my priorities straight.  No agonizing over a decision for this girl anymore.  I feel like I have a depth of strength and character that didn’t exist at this level five years ago.  I feel like I needed to be really unhappy to understand what it really means to be happy.  I needed to understand that movies and fairy tales only show the fun, happy moments, and that everything worth having requires hard work.  Being happy isn’t something you just magically are or aren’t, it’s something that needs work and perspective.  I needed to know that it is okay to cry, but it is not okay to be single-mindedly absorbed in your grief or circumstance.

I look back on that age twenty-five Mindy, and I just want to be able to give her a hug and tell her the end of the story, or at least the story as it is five years later.  She struggled through so much and she sacrificed so much for her daughter.  She made the best out of a hard situation, and she bonded with her child like never before in the midst of it all.  Without those hard, emotional lessons, I wouldn’t be me today.

No one ever has a picture perfect life.  Life isn’t meant to be that way.  I wish that Mindy from five years ago could see my life right now.  I still don’t own a home, I still don’t have a very nice car, but I still have a wonderful daughter, and now our family has grown to include my wonderful husband.  I have pushed that man away so many times.  I have tried to get rid of him many times in four years so I didn’t have to trust him or open up.  I have given him every reason I could think of to just move on and leave me, but he never walked away.  He is still here with us, and I don’t know how I found him.  He isn’t perfect either, nor is our marriage, but that somehow makes it so much better.  We have flaws together and we still choose to love each other every day.  He is everything Eva (my daughter) needs in a father figure, and she is as much his everything as she is mine.  I couldn’t ask for more.  I have a decent, well-above minimum wage job.  I have skills and knowledge.  I still have parents that love me as unconditionally today as they did thirty years ago.

I look at the Mindy I am today, and I’m grateful for everything I have, every bond and connection I share with the people I love.  I look at myself today, and I’m so glad that I made it through.  I am so much more aware of the blessings in my life now, at this age, than I ever was before.

Mom and Dad, if you ever read this, thanks for patiently waiting for me to become the amazing person you both have always told me I am.  I couldn’t have made it without you both.

Being thirty does sound like a pretty awful number, especially while fighting to have another child (secondary infertility issues, discussed throughout many posts).  But, right here, on the edge of thirty, thirty suddenly doesn’t seem quite so horrible. 

Eva comes home from visiting her father in California next weekend.  What was going to be a non-birthday celebration (I have been refusing to acknowledge I’m turning thirty), will now most definitely be a birthday/Eva celebration! 

Best friends (you know who you are), prepare the bonfire and the river next weekend!  We are celebrating!

…that is if you’re available, friends. I know this is kind of short notice and all. And well, maybe, we don’t have to mention a number like thirty at any event in the near future.  Or possibly for at least another year.  Maybe this should be a welcome back Eva party instead.  I’m just kidding, of course.  I will remind myself of my blessings and quit cringing every time I type thirty.  Maybe…

I Will Not Give In

Today is cycle day forty.  I still haven’t began taking the Provera to induce a period, either.  I want to give up today.  I want to throw in the towel and to pretend that I don’t have any interest in conceiving a child.  I want to throw my hands in the air and laugh it off like there was some sort of anecdotal miscommunication between my body and my mind.

I told my boss today that I will only be working three days a week beginning in August.  My husband told me to just put in my notice, that I have enough stress in my life.  He is right about stress, but work isn’t the primary source.  I miss Eva.  Until she gets back nothing is normal or stress-free.  I worry every time I get a text or a phone call that it might be from her father with some sort of new angle to try to keep her longer.  Then I worry that instead it will be her father telling me it isn’t working out and that I need to come get her right away.  Neither scenario is any better or worse, really.  Both thoughts make my stomach turn.  I have tears stinging my eyes several times daily just thinking of her 1500 miles away from me.  Every time there is a new Facebook post from her father that doesn’t include her in the picture I panic all over again about whether she is being treated well or not.

I’m hoping my stress level reduces once she is home.  Another reason to reduce my workload is so I can spend more time with her before school starts.  I missed out on an entire month of fun with her. 

Something else stressing me out is while I’m trying to silently give in to infertility, my body is doing strange things.  My breasts hurt, again.  I have been weepy for a couple days now.  The weeping is usually the first indicator of cycle day one just around the corner, but I have also been getting strange twinges of pain in my lower abdomen.  I know cramps very well, and this is not cramps.  It makes me want to give in to my urge to pee on a stick to confirm, again, that I’m not pregnant.

My husband desperately wants to buy a house, any house.  He is tired of renting, period.  We have the same argument every two weeks as another home in our area is put up for sale.  I am determined to pay off our car before we purchase a home.  It is just more financially feasible for us to free up that car payment money in case we need it before we purchase a home.  He is equally determined that we don’t need to pay off the car first.  Today, as he showed me yet another house he wants to go look at (not even in the area in which I wish to live), I wanted to give in.  I wanted to say do what you think is best, just leave me out of it.  Tell me when it’s time to move.

However, right now, I am sucking it up, raising my chin, and preparing for another round.  I will not give in today.  I will not give in tomorrow.  I desperately want another baby of my own.  I will not give in to infertility. I will not give in to worry about Eva because I know she is a strong kid.  I will not give in to guilt about anything at all, including my job. 

Sorry, husband, but I also will not be giving in to buying a home yet, either.

You know, peeing on one little stick in the morning can’t hurt, right?

No, I will not give in.

Cycle Day 37

That’s right, today is cycle day thirty-seven.  I picked up my prescription for Provera to induce a period, I wasted another pregnancy test to make my OB/gyn happy, I said some prayers, and then I tried to forget it all.  And still no cycle day one for me.

I picked up the Provera, but I haven’t started taking it.  I’m feeling a little lost.  I usually have a pretty good sense of direction, in every sense of the phrase, but right now I feel like I got turned around and I can’t find east, west, north, or south. 

It always helps taking the Provera and beginning a new cycle.  It helps physically because usually I end up losing a little bit of weight during my period and I just feel better overall.  Beginning a new period helps emotionally, of course, because I feel like this time, this cycle, might be THE cycle.

This time I’m hesitating, though.  I wonder if continued intervention is really helping anything or somehow making it worse.  I’m sure another few days I will end up changing my mind and take the Provera anyway.  I’m tired of feeling like I am in limbo.  I don’t have any answers or next steps.  Everything is status quo.

My heart keeps breaking and then hardening a little more each month that nothing happens.  I’m trying very hard to keep myself hopeful and open to whatever God has in store for me. 

My heart just hurts right now.

Tomorrow Is A New Day

It is almost 7 pm as I’m writing this, and I’m writing it in bed.  I’m exhausted.  I’m done for the day.  As soon as I hit publish I’m going to give in to my eyelids that feel heavier every moment.

Today is cycle day 34 for me.  That’s right, 34.  My body isn’t cooperating, again.  One more day, one last chance for my body to start a period independently, before I have to start taking good old Provera to induce a period.  Again.

I’m just so tired.

I mean that every way it can be interpreted.  I’m tired physically from a very long, very busy day.  I’m tired emotionally from the constant worry about Eva and the never-ending disappointment experienced with infertility, secondary or otherwise.  I’m tired of being tired!

I didn’t need to pee on a stick to know I’m not pregnant, but I did it anyway.  Of course, it was a negative.  I didn’t even cry this time.  I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I’m not pregnant.  The only reason I wasted the pregnancy test is because I know that my OB/GYN will insist I take a test before she sends the script over for the Provera.  I appreciate her cautious approach, but I’m tired of feeling like my lack of a positive pregnancy test is getting rubbed in my face.

I’m being dramatic I’m sure, but that’s still how I feel.  I was in Wal-Mart Monday morning to pick up some items for work.  It was 7:45 in the morning, and it was like a ghost town.  I only saw employees throughout the store as I was shopping.  There was only a couple registers open so I picked the closest without paying attention.  There was a woman in line paying for her items, and as she turned I realized she was hugely pregnant.  Of course, I mentally rolled my eyes.

Hang on, let me hit pause.  I always roll my eyes when I get stuck in a situation where I have to deal with a pregnant person because it seems slightly ironic to me.  The one thing I can’t do like most of the other women in the world is get pregnant. Isn’t it ironic that I keep crossing paths with preggers?  Cue Alanis Morissette.  Oh yeah, I forgot for a moment that she shared her story of a home birth in a documentary I watched.  Adds some more irony I’m sure.  Or maybe that’s the sleep deprivation talking.

So, as I’m in line rolling my eyes mentally as the very pregnant woman in front of me pays, another person walks up behind me.  I look in that person’s general direction to see another very pregnant woman.  Ugh.  Eye roll continues.

Did I mention my boss is pregnant?  Well, she is, and worse is she tried to hide it from me.  Comical, since I was the first person to ask her about it at work.  She had all the classic signs, how could I not notice?  This week at work, my first full week back since taking Eva to California, she has been avoiding me.  I’m sure she’s trying to stay out of my way so I don’t start crying, but it makes it worse.  I’m okay, I’m not going to fall apart unless you treat me differently.  Then I’m going to get angry.  My life should have come with an owner’s manual to help navigate through such situations.

Here I lay, missing my daughter, wishing for my body to cooperate, fighting sleep, and trying very hard to just focus on right this second.  Everything seems so much smaller, insignificant even, if I can focus outside of myself, outside of my life and my own drama.  Even better, I will quit fighting sleep and just give in for tonight.

Tomorrow is a new day.

Maybe my boobs and back won’t hurt tomorrow for apparently no reason since my body refuses to start a new cycle.

Tomorrow is a new day.

Cycle day 35…