Posts Tagged ‘hope’

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The blood draw and the wait

July 20, 2009

I went this morning to have my blood drawn for my HCG levels. The lab tech gave me the usual gauze and tape over the withdrawal site, but when I got to work the guaze was soaked with blood! I guess the baby aspirin is thinning my blood. My boobs are aching today, and for a little bit I felt nauseous. Can these be side effects of the aspirin?

I’m at work. Jack thought I should call in sick since he’s worried, but being at work helps you feel like you’re doing something. I accomplished quite a bit which helped eat up 3 hours. I’m trying to figure out how to make it through the rest of the hours left. I mean, I have no choice in the matter. My cousin e-mailed that she’s calling tonight. Calls with her last an hour minimum so there’s an hour there. I have grocery shopping to do. Gotta cook dinner and clean up after. I might put my ipod on and go for a walk in my neighborhood. Harry Potter book 7 is sitting by my nightstand asking to be read again.

I hate that I’m wishing away the next 24+ hours. Life is precious and we’re not guarunteed a second of it, why waste it waiting for the next moment? Still, I’m allowing myself this time to be a little crazy. Today on the way to work I stopped at a stopsign and three little birds, all yellow breasted, so yellow you’d think God highlighted them, with dark black tails flew infront of my car, circled in harmony and then flew away. I’d never seen such birds before, my breath caught as I watched them fly away, continually in harmony, continually in motion. Inexplicably, I hoped it was a sign.

Waiting. It seems us IF sisters do a lot of that. You’d think we’d be experts at waiting. Somehow it does not get easier.

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Sunflower Hope

July 10, 2009

I recently went on vacation and we passed by rows and rows of sunflowers bright with their faces towards the sun. I love sunflowers and seeing the endless stretches of yellow fields made me smile. Then we came across a sunflower field that made me catch my breath.  I made Jack pull over to the side of the road so I could take a picture. It was a field of sunflowers scorched by the sun, heads downwards, leaves gone, their little bodies turning brown instead of the brilliant yellow I love. Except for one sunflower. One sunflower in a sea of thousands still alive and bright, its head up and facing the world despite the odds. When I saw this sunflower I I wrote in my journal: Wherever you look there are signs of  small miracles. This sunflower lives despite the odds against it with the scorching sun and its dead brethren. This sunflower is hope. I too can defeat the odds one day.  I don’t need to believe in a field of sunflowers, I just need one. Looking back at my journal entry and this picture gives me chills now. I wanted to share this with my IF sisters in the hope that perhaps it will inspire you too. As a beautiful commenter said in my last post: Hope must be stronger than fear.


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Meeting hope incarnate

June 27, 2009

I had not seen my friend Maria since 2007. She just had a baby. Her baby was born the day after my miscarriage. She was in Atlanta with her husband to attend a mutual friend’s wedding. We hugged and chatted and in my most nonchalant voice I said, I hope I’m not prying but I remember you told me in ’07 that you’d been trying for a year. What did you end up doing?

She smiled, I had four failed IVF cycles since we last met. The day after my fourth failed cycle, we began filling out the paperwork to adopt a baby from Morrocco. We were in Paris, en route to Morocco to interview with the agency and I got pregnant naturally.

You must have been so stressed I said shaking my head Four failed IVF cycles, I don’t want to imagine. She shook her head, I promise you, I didn’t stress about it. I trusted this was God’s will. He tests those he wants to draw closer to him.

Infertility as a test from God to be borne with absolute strength and trust. I read a book recently in with the author, Steven Luxenberg said fear destroys trust. I am so afraid of the path ahead I have no room to trust. I look at Maria and I think, for 2.5 years she endured what I am enduring, and she took it easy and relaxed. The cynic in me shakes my head and wonders if she is looking back with rose colored glasses, I mean who can endure four failed IVF cycles and say Coolios no big deal? Granted she is filthy rich so affording treatment isn’t the issue . . . but regardless, I am sure she remained faithful during her struggles to conceive. I look at her gorgeous little girl. She is ten weeks old. I did not need to ask, because I know, I will always see her and know. She is hope incarnate. She is proof that I can wringe my hands and give up entirely, but its not up to me what the end result will be. I must move my feet and keep on doing what I must, but I do need to accept that despite my best plans, that I must accept when it comes to TTC, I am not behind the wheel. I want to be where she says she was, that good place where you trust completely and as a result remain stress free. I’m trying to get there. It’s an upward climb but hopefully it will get easier the more I climb.

Tomorrow we’re going out to dinner with a group of friends. One of those friends is my ex-friend who is loud and vivacious and quite pregnant. [I wrote about it here] I know it will be an evening of all about Tricia and I feel very uncomfortable about it. What makes it more awkward is we’re having the dinner folks over to our house for dessert after, and I’ve heard Tricia and her hubby may come TO OUR HOUSE. I hope she doesn’t have the nerve but knowing Tricia she just might. I’ll try to adopt Maria’s philosophy. These difficult times are there to make me stronger. I will sit and smile tomorrow, I will make it through, I will look at Maria’s miracle and remember that I am looking at hope incarnate.

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Fuzzy Math: My attempt at being positive

June 10, 2009

January 2008: Began TTC with undiagnosed PCOS

February 2008: OBGYN insists no PCOS w/out doing bloodwork or ultrasound. Tells me to TTC on 14, 15, 17, 19 of my cycle.

April 2008: Switch OBGYNs. New OBGYN gives me progesterone to induce period. Tells me after two cycles he’ll give me Clomid. No mention of PCOS or investigating potential causes of infertility. [and yes though the official year hadnt passed to term me IF, I knew I was. Sometimes you just know]

May 2008: Give up on OBGYNs. TTC in futility.

September 2008: Switch OBGYN. New one begins blood work to determine PCOS.  Identifies based on blood work I have PCOS.

October 2008: Ultrasound confirms PCOS.

November 2008: Put on Metformin

December 2008: Begin therepeutic dosage of Metformin

February 2009: Get pregnant

April 2009: Miscarry at 11 weeks.

Jack says that technically all the months we TTC before getting medication for PCOS were in vain due to the fact no little eggies were coming out to play. So really, our journey began December 2008 when I began Metformin. So really, I conceived after two months of TTC. So really, there’s nothing to worry about. Getting preggers will be a breeze.

So many retorts are waiting to come out like, the meds don’t fix PCOS. I can still struggle to conceive despite it. There could be other stuff wrong. Um, did you forget i miscarried? It’ s not just getting pregnant I’m concerned with. And so on and so forth, but I will not say those things today!

I guess I can choose to look at the glass half full since my reality remains the same. If seeing a half filled glass makes it easier, maybe its worth it. This is how I feel right now. Ask me again when my period comes.

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I see Spot.

May 14, 2009

I spotted. Ive been trying to push it out of my mind because it could simply be a) remnants of my miscarriage b) signal of an impending period c) by body behaving loony as it is wont to do. But-  of course, I wonder. Despite the improbability, the objective fact, I wonder. I berate myself. Then I wonder: implantation bleeding? At least I have the ability to ceaselessly amuse myself at the disconnect of my objective reality and fanciful desperate hopes.