I haven’t written in ages, and surprisingly this half-life blog still gets views on a daily basis. How? Who are you?… I suppose if I have to ask, I’ll never know.
Seems I only post to write vague updates and this will be no great exception. I don’t even bother saying I’ll try to write more anymore because it’s just not true.. If you follow me on Instagram @Finity113, or my private trying to conceive account, @ttc.rainbow.roe most of this will be old news, but for those of you who don’t already know me over there, let’s jump right in.
- We moved back to our home town. I wasn’t sold on the idea but we had been considering buying a house since this time last year and as soon as we walked in the door here, we knew it was ours. I have five words to accurately sum up my first impression: Craft room. Built in bookshelves. Sold! Plus living in the same town as all of my husband’s family is nice, considering all of mine now live 3 hours or three days plus away by car.
- So we bought the house and it’s been about three months and it’s crazy. Double the space of our apartment, complete with a garage, back and front yard.. You know, all the standard things. My dad and uncle both told me that wherever you stand, you’ll see something that either needs repairing, improving or replaced and it is so true.
- We planted a garden. It’s been a huge learning experience. Perhaps a 30′ by 20′ garden was unrealistic for our first year here but it’s nice, aside from all the weeds. Someone in my online gardening group told me to expect to spend an hour out there weeding daily. Um.. what?
- We got a puppy! She’s a six month old, lab/husky mix and her name is Tippy. If you think that is a stupid name, don’t look at me because I did not pick it out. But I did pick her out at the shelter and aside from treating ringworm for an entire effing month it’s been great. And nobody else in the household caught it from her so that felt a little like winning.
- We were diagnosed with secondary infertility. Well… I guess I was. I am all of twenty-eight years old and taking hormone replacement therapy because my “pituitary essentially stopped talking to my ovaries” after our losses last year. My doctor’s words, not mine. Neither of my two fertility doctors has said the term pre-menopausal, but isn’t that exactly what’s going on? No? All I know is that the hormones help with everything from my anxiety to PMS to weight gain..
- Also found out the husband and I both have the homozygous C677T MTHFR mutation, which is pretty much the worst of those mutations to have. It almost guarantees any baby we have will be homozygous at well, which puts a fetus at increased risk of death, which is pretty much the cherry on top of a craptastic year as far as pregnancy and loss goes.
- Speaking of which, it’s been 333 days since before we experienced the loss of our girl, “Firefly” at 13 weeks. And everything’s changed. So.. coming up on the one year anniversary of her death and I am half waiting for the meltdown and half hoping that I have healed enough that there won’t be one. I am channeling that energy into a local pregnancy loss ministry. I’m actually a board member, fancy that! I’ve been thinking of giving all of our lost babies proper names and will need to sit down with DH and do that, if only just for us and them.
- And perhaps the last big update for now, not only am I a stay at home mom again, (which doesn’t sound nearly as cool when your only kid is four..) but will also be homeschooling said kid. *gasp* I know, right?
Soo… Yeah. That’s about everything I’ve got to say right now. Thanks for reading, stranger.
As Always Before,
This week has been a long one. Last weekend feels like a lifetime away; I can’t even remember how I spent my time.. was my hubby even home? Hah. I can’t remember now.
I felt oddly peaceful all day today. I woke up exhausted, got dressed half-asleep, dropped the hubby off at work and said goodbye to him for thirty-six hours. It’s a duty day for him, as is every third day, so he has to spend the night on the boat. By the time I was almost home, I felt mostly awake, and so instead of rushing back to get laundry started and dishes put away, I took Graham down to the little rocky shoreline and watched the sun come up over the hills. It was so nice watching the colors dance on the water and listen to the tide as it went out. I had all 150 feet of shoreline to myself.
Felt crummy a little while after getting home. Hot and sleepy.. I think my body is fighting a bit of a cold. I tired Graham out with a game of ghetto-fetch [[which means I throw the toy and end up getting it myself half the time, and trying to convince him it’s not the same game as tug-o-war the other half]] put him in his kennel so I wouldn’t have to worry about him getting into trouble and climbed into bed. Slept like a rock for three hours and dreamt weird dreams that I can’t remember now.
My mind feels slow today, and I don’t mind that one bit. I feel two shots of tequila happy and calm but without the alcohol. Prayer has helped heal my heart from the bad news we received only four days ago. It is oddly comforting knowing this is all in God’s hands; that nothing I did or didn’t do would have, could have changed anything. I did the best I could by following my gut and having those tests run; and my mind doesn’t have to go crazy wondering if something is wrong anymore.
There’s an old saying about that.. that the truth will set you free. I suppose this is what free could feel like..
The decision to have a baby was an easy one. Before we were married last April I had a feeling that I wanted to start trying soon after I graduated from college in June. It’s almost funny looking back now and remembering my scheming to work baby stuff into otherwise normal conversations with my then fiance; or doing the same shortly after we were married and I was totally bogged down by school and really should have been thinking of other things. I knew one thing for certain – that I wanted to have our kids in my early to mid-twenties and that meant starting to try as soon as possible.
You probably won’t believe me if I tell you now, that I always felt like we were going to run into trouble on our trying to conceive journey. Given my history of irregular periods I swore up and down something was wrong with me, when month after month instead of buying pregnancy tests I instead purchased chocolate bars and boxes of tampons. I had basic blood work done and when that all came back just fine and I thought they must have mixed up the samples because it had been months of trying already. I wanted more blood work, more tests, an ultrasound to make sure I didn’t have a bum uterus. We don’t need those now.
Before the hospital would do any more testing on me, they required that my darling husband (DH – can also be dear husband) have a semen analysis done. Yesterday we merrily set off for the hospital so he could provide the sample, fully expecting stellar results. But when I called for results and the nurse that answered the phone said the doctor was flagged to call with the results of this case my heart sank. Even now, I can’t believe I am typing this. It has to be a bad dream like the ones I’ve had of car crashes and memory loss and wolf attacks.
But there is no waking up from this. There is no going back to yesterday – you can’t take back what you find when you open Pandora’s Box.
We rushed the results and chose to see them on paper before waiting for a doctor’s analysis. I am still waiting for the call this morning where my not-so-nice family practice doctor will let me know my husband falls in the class of severe male infertility. The benchmark for normal is 20 million sperm per milliliter of sample provided, subfertile is classified as less than 10 million, infertile is less than 5 million and my husband has less than 2 million. That news is a crushing blow. During the test they look at a small drop of semen under a microscope to analyze morphology, motility, etcetera.. These lab techs normally watch the movement of hundreds of sperm and DH had just 26 on his slide and eight were already dead.
I don’t know how to handle this. I’m supposed to be ovulating soon! But the chances of me getting pregnant are lower than the average woman’s risk of getting pregnant with perfect birth control pill use. I feel like we just joined this elite club that no one wants to be a member of. Thank God DH is just hurt, not embarrassed, and is ok with me talking/writing about this because writing is how I process things. In one afternoon we went from OPKs to IVF and it’s scary and it hurts and I don’t know where God is leading us with this one. I don’t know where to go from here.