I forgot to post yesterday, but it has now been one year since one of my favorite ultrasound experiences ever, despite the discomfort and um, well, you know... immodesty. Yes, I'm talking about my hysterosonogram, the saline ultrasound performed by the magnificent Dr. M (maybe I should refer to him as Dr. Magnificent?) which finally, definitively diagnosed my crazy uterus as septate.
I think those five days, starting with the Monday I had the ultrasound and concluding with the surgery the following Friday were some of my most joyous of 2008. Throughout my entire fertility journey of 2008, this was one string of happy days that had nothing to do with miscarriage or TTC. It was filled with pure hope. I had a fixable problem and my childbearing years would not be condemned to more problems or, worse, futility.
It's hard to believe an entire year has gone by. A lot has changed in the last year, but from a fertility standpoint I still feel a bit stagnant. And I'm already 26 years old. I find myself disbelieving I'm so old--I know it's not very old, but I first got pregnant when I was 24, and I should have had a baby in the first half of my 26th year. Now I'll consider myself lucky if I have a baby by the time I turn 27. I used to think I'd be on the young side as a first time mom, but that is just no longer true; I shall be merely average. Ever since I turned 21 I've stopped wishing I were older, but I didn't realize that my desire to stay the same age for a while would hit the fast forward button on these years.
So, what gives, Science? Why haven't you yet found a way to slow down time?
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
'Tis the Season
...for anniversaries. I had one yesterday: it's been one year since my first appointment with the RE, Dr. M.
It's funny, I wasn't planning on it, but I went out to the area of town near his office, which is rare. I stopped by Bath & Body Works because I wanted something that smells good, and I went to the Walgreens to get a Neti Pot and cough drops because I seem to be catching every virus that comes my way this season. And between these errands, I contemplated what I've been through since one year ago, when I was in hopeless limbo, still worried about whether I would ever have children.
I haven't seen Dr. M since my follow-up appointment last July after my surgery. The last thing he told me was to let him know when I get pregnant and have a baby and to send pictures. I know he would just love to add me to the photo album and count me as one of his success stories, but I still took hope from that. I knew it wouldn't be long.
Well, it wasn't terribly long until I got pregnant, but I never did notify him before I had another miscarriage. And now, it's been so long I hardly even think about my RE experience any more. But my outing yesterday reminded me of my hope and determination to be one of his success stories. I know I can have kids, even though I have trouble believing it sometimes, and when I do, it will be thanks to Dr. M, who made my uterus a hospitable place for a baby.
It's funny, I wasn't planning on it, but I went out to the area of town near his office, which is rare. I stopped by Bath & Body Works because I wanted something that smells good, and I went to the Walgreens to get a Neti Pot and cough drops because I seem to be catching every virus that comes my way this season. And between these errands, I contemplated what I've been through since one year ago, when I was in hopeless limbo, still worried about whether I would ever have children.
I haven't seen Dr. M since my follow-up appointment last July after my surgery. The last thing he told me was to let him know when I get pregnant and have a baby and to send pictures. I know he would just love to add me to the photo album and count me as one of his success stories, but I still took hope from that. I knew it wouldn't be long.
Well, it wasn't terribly long until I got pregnant, but I never did notify him before I had another miscarriage. And now, it's been so long I hardly even think about my RE experience any more. But my outing yesterday reminded me of my hope and determination to be one of his success stories. I know I can have kids, even though I have trouble believing it sometimes, and when I do, it will be thanks to Dr. M, who made my uterus a hospitable place for a baby.
Monday, May 4, 2009
On House-Buying vs. Homeownership
As I've mentioned here before, DH and I are in the process of buying a house. We're in the lull right now between the acceptance of the offer and closing, which is in about three and a half weeks.
When we first walked through "our" house, and we both started to know that this was where we wanted to live, I felt such excitement. But that excitement was rightfully restrained. This is where I want to live, but that has little to do with actually living in this house. There are a thousand steps in between those two things, and a thousand chances for something to go wrong, something to send us back on the search at square one. But after passing a few big hurdles, the chances for disaster go way down.
On our way home from this our last round of house-hunting, we made plans to go back that night and bring my parents and get their blessing. Back at home, Erich and I talked excitedly about all we could do with the house and why it was so right for us. But we knew not to get ahead of ourselves--NOTHING was written in stone. That's when I realized that deciding to buy a house is a lot like finding out you're pregnant.
Knowing this is the house you want to live in as as much like homeownership as two little lines on a pregnancy test is like a baby. One leads to another, but they aren't really anything alike.
Putting in an offer is making your first prenatal appointment. You want a response on the offer, and you want to hang onto the baby long enough to make it to that appointment. Getting a counteroffer is not having spotting or significant cramping in the first few weeks. Getting acceptance of the contract from the seller is seeing the heartbeat for the first time.
Getting a mortgage is making it to the second trimester. Closing is making it to the third. Moving is giving birth. (Not looking forward to that part!) And then that's it, right? Nope, homeownership is parenthood. And then I can't really continue the analogy, but there you have it.
I'm excited to be just about to the "second trimester" on the road to homeownership. Now if only I can ever make it to the second trimester of pregnancy, I'd be even happier to have passed the major hurdles!
When we first walked through "our" house, and we both started to know that this was where we wanted to live, I felt such excitement. But that excitement was rightfully restrained. This is where I want to live, but that has little to do with actually living in this house. There are a thousand steps in between those two things, and a thousand chances for something to go wrong, something to send us back on the search at square one. But after passing a few big hurdles, the chances for disaster go way down.
On our way home from this our last round of house-hunting, we made plans to go back that night and bring my parents and get their blessing. Back at home, Erich and I talked excitedly about all we could do with the house and why it was so right for us. But we knew not to get ahead of ourselves--NOTHING was written in stone. That's when I realized that deciding to buy a house is a lot like finding out you're pregnant.
Knowing this is the house you want to live in as as much like homeownership as two little lines on a pregnancy test is like a baby. One leads to another, but they aren't really anything alike.
Putting in an offer is making your first prenatal appointment. You want a response on the offer, and you want to hang onto the baby long enough to make it to that appointment. Getting a counteroffer is not having spotting or significant cramping in the first few weeks. Getting acceptance of the contract from the seller is seeing the heartbeat for the first time.
Getting a mortgage is making it to the second trimester. Closing is making it to the third. Moving is giving birth. (Not looking forward to that part!) And then that's it, right? Nope, homeownership is parenthood. And then I can't really continue the analogy, but there you have it.
I'm excited to be just about to the "second trimester" on the road to homeownership. Now if only I can ever make it to the second trimester of pregnancy, I'd be even happier to have passed the major hurdles!
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Psalm 113:9
I've taken to reading Psalms at bedtime. I like to read in bed, and that is when I do most of my book-reading, but sometimes an action-packed novel or weighty non-fiction gets to be too much stimulation for my brain, which needs to wind down and rest. The Psalms are generally short and easy to read, and I have the added advantage of getting to know my Psalms better, which is useful for me as a church musician.
The other night, my final reading was Psalm 113. The final verse, verse 9, reads:
"He gives the barren woman a home,
making her the joyous mother of children.
Praise the Lord!"
I could not have found a more comforting verse on which to meditate if I had been searching for it. Praise the Lord!
The other night, my final reading was Psalm 113. The final verse, verse 9, reads:
"He gives the barren woman a home,
making her the joyous mother of children.
Praise the Lord!"
I could not have found a more comforting verse on which to meditate if I had been searching for it. Praise the Lord!
Monday, April 20, 2009
Still Trying
But what else is new? I really don't mind, though. It'll happen eventually.
Erich and I were on our way home yesterday from a very short weekend in St. Louis where I held no fewer than three babies, and we spent time with very good friends and family. Erich remarked to me over our cups of Wendy's chili that it was a refreshing change to spend time with family and friends of all ages, i.e. kids included. Not many (not any, I think?) of our friends we see regularly have any kids, and of the four siblings in my family, who we spend a lot of time with, three of us are married but only one of us has one child.
I agreed with Erich. We love our local friends and family, but spending time with self-absorbed young adults all the time can get a bit confining. We restlessly search for something a bit more than day-to-day goings on, career news, and the like. Watching babies and children grow and change is always exciting, and we just don't see enough of that at this stage in our lives. As our conversation continued, Erich gazed out the window into the rain, trying to find the right words. "I just think," he said, "that it's just about having a bunch of kids and going to church."
As I searched for the right "Yes! And..." thing to say, I stopped and realized that he had just said something very close to everything I had ever wanted out of an extremely good-looking husband. I had to melt just a bit. "What?" he said in reply to my stupid smile. "Oh, you just ovulated, didn't you?" *wink* As soon as I could get my convulsive laughter under control, I squeaked out, "Well, I wouldn't be surprised!"
It's easy for us at the moment not to feel terribly impatient in the TTC department because we are currently in the process of buying our first house, and that's a wonderfully exciting endeavor in and of itself. From the perspective of our young adult-style self-absorption, buying a house is so great! But we are already more than ready to be on our way to filling that house with kids.
Erich and I were on our way home yesterday from a very short weekend in St. Louis where I held no fewer than three babies, and we spent time with very good friends and family. Erich remarked to me over our cups of Wendy's chili that it was a refreshing change to spend time with family and friends of all ages, i.e. kids included. Not many (not any, I think?) of our friends we see regularly have any kids, and of the four siblings in my family, who we spend a lot of time with, three of us are married but only one of us has one child.
I agreed with Erich. We love our local friends and family, but spending time with self-absorbed young adults all the time can get a bit confining. We restlessly search for something a bit more than day-to-day goings on, career news, and the like. Watching babies and children grow and change is always exciting, and we just don't see enough of that at this stage in our lives. As our conversation continued, Erich gazed out the window into the rain, trying to find the right words. "I just think," he said, "that it's just about having a bunch of kids and going to church."
As I searched for the right "Yes! And..." thing to say, I stopped and realized that he had just said something very close to everything I had ever wanted out of an extremely good-looking husband. I had to melt just a bit. "What?" he said in reply to my stupid smile. "Oh, you just ovulated, didn't you?" *wink* As soon as I could get my convulsive laughter under control, I squeaked out, "Well, I wouldn't be surprised!"
It's easy for us at the moment not to feel terribly impatient in the TTC department because we are currently in the process of buying our first house, and that's a wonderfully exciting endeavor in and of itself. From the perspective of our young adult-style self-absorption, buying a house is so great! But we are already more than ready to be on our way to filling that house with kids.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Sick of This Stupid Journey
In a vacuum, I am doing spectacularly well. I am amazingly well-adjusted and healthy. I have no unrealistic expectations of myself. I am okay with my super long cycles--hey, at least I ovulate! I see every period of waiting as a chance to improve my life in all areas, and I never nurture any irrational doubts that I will ever be a mother. I am the very model of mental calm.
Unfortunately, life doesn't happen in a vacuum. It's in real life that I find this exemplary balance I've struck is actually extremely delicate. A breeze renders it unsteady; a gust can obliterate it. I've recently received some news (external, nothing to do with me directly*) on par with tornado-strength winds. I now have to do what I wasn't planning on having to do any time soon: pick up the pieces yet again and build a new support for the ever-elusive Hope.
I'm feeling angry at the world. Where yesterday my long-term view of the year ahead of me was simple and devoid of any major limitations, I now see timelines spring up, deadlines for maximum possible happiness. I really REALLY don't need to add that kind of stress to TTC. That's soooo 2008. This year was supposed to be different, but from my perspective right now, it's looking to be equally stressful and disappointing. I can't be more optimistic than that at this point: again, Hope has lost all foundation. It'll take some time to get that back.
Mostly, I'm resentful. I'm normally perfectly happy to fade into the background, so it's all the worse that Erich and I are now "that sad couple." "Better be nice to them, they're having problems." In my little vacuum, I'm so blessed and happy. Despite--and also because of--the challenges we've faced, our marriage is stronger than ever. Outside that vacuum, I feel exposed and vulnerable to pitying glances. Every glass of wine I drink is proof to others that I'm not yet truly fulfilled. Someone else's exciting news is a knife to my heart. It seems I'm having to choose between being emotionally on-display and total reclusiveness.
I just want to quit it all and have a whole separate miscarriage life that I don't have to live every day.
*Imagine a world where TWO positive pregnancy tests is incontrovertable proof that a baby will arrive, healthy and whole, nine months later. In this magical, mythical world, you can get pregnant without even meaning to--in fact, you can get pregnant while specifically trying not to. You don't have to worry about keeping your baby alive through pregnancy, you just have to worry about feeding and clothing it. There's no need to fret about whether this baby is healthy, but you do have to watch out for the possibility that there could be two in there. Did I mention the streets are paved with gold, the shores are lined with baby powder, and diapers are the universal currency? Such a marvelous, magical world! If only we could find a way to get there!
Unfortunately, life doesn't happen in a vacuum. It's in real life that I find this exemplary balance I've struck is actually extremely delicate. A breeze renders it unsteady; a gust can obliterate it. I've recently received some news (external, nothing to do with me directly*) on par with tornado-strength winds. I now have to do what I wasn't planning on having to do any time soon: pick up the pieces yet again and build a new support for the ever-elusive Hope.
I'm feeling angry at the world. Where yesterday my long-term view of the year ahead of me was simple and devoid of any major limitations, I now see timelines spring up, deadlines for maximum possible happiness. I really REALLY don't need to add that kind of stress to TTC. That's soooo 2008. This year was supposed to be different, but from my perspective right now, it's looking to be equally stressful and disappointing. I can't be more optimistic than that at this point: again, Hope has lost all foundation. It'll take some time to get that back.
Mostly, I'm resentful. I'm normally perfectly happy to fade into the background, so it's all the worse that Erich and I are now "that sad couple." "Better be nice to them, they're having problems." In my little vacuum, I'm so blessed and happy. Despite--and also because of--the challenges we've faced, our marriage is stronger than ever. Outside that vacuum, I feel exposed and vulnerable to pitying glances. Every glass of wine I drink is proof to others that I'm not yet truly fulfilled. Someone else's exciting news is a knife to my heart. It seems I'm having to choose between being emotionally on-display and total reclusiveness.
I just want to quit it all and have a whole separate miscarriage life that I don't have to live every day.
*Imagine a world where TWO positive pregnancy tests is incontrovertable proof that a baby will arrive, healthy and whole, nine months later. In this magical, mythical world, you can get pregnant without even meaning to--in fact, you can get pregnant while specifically trying not to. You don't have to worry about keeping your baby alive through pregnancy, you just have to worry about feeding and clothing it. There's no need to fret about whether this baby is healthy, but you do have to watch out for the possibility that there could be two in there. Did I mention the streets are paved with gold, the shores are lined with baby powder, and diapers are the universal currency? Such a marvelous, magical world! If only we could find a way to get there!
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