Plan Z

Brokenhearted

I'm okay.  Me and the babes are fine. But a lovely lady here at work lost her baby last week, and I just found out. She is 43, and even though it was an “oops” baby, her and her hubby were just starting to get excited about it. I feel so bad, I didn’t even know and just burst into her office asking how she was feeling. I cried for an hour. God, what an awful thing to go through. She was 15 weeks, too.

Man this sucks. Now I’m worried all over again. After feeling confident enough to have a glass of tea every day, and I’ve started buying baby clothes. Now paranoia has set in again. I know my odds of loss are much lower than hers, being my donor is only 31. But still, it seems if it was something genetic, she would have lost it before 12 weeks.

I’m not panicking or anything. I just wish my next appointment wasn’t so far away (3 weeks). Some days I feel huge, and others just a little overweight. Someone told me today I looked skinny (from the back!). I just wish they would start moving. I can hear them on Doppler, but I wish I knew how big they were or that they were swimming around in there. I know they are, I’m just po’d because I was feeling so good there for awhile.

She has the same name as C. It sucks that I don’t know what to say to someone that’s had a loss. Especially since I’ve had two of my own. It’s because I know there is nothing that you can say. Except that I’m so, so sorry.

Bittersweet

I haven’t talked much here about the relationships (if you can call them that) with some of the men I’ve been involved with in the last 25 years, and how it is that here I am, on my own, having a family. I did joke about it at the start of this blog, and much of that was tongue in cheek, but true nevertheless. I’ve had three major relationships in that time, two with hopeless, self-centered narcissists, and the one I actually married (that was almost 20 years ago), who truly would have been a great father, except for the fact that he was/is a meth addict, and was/is unable to get or keep a job. It really pisses me off that I did everything in my power to make these men happy, but all they did was wallow in the mess they’d made of their own lives. Two years ago I made the decision to go forward on my own, and the strange thing is that when was in my 20’s I always had the unsettling feeling that I would be doing this alone.

I’ve always taken pride in the fact that I’m fairly intelligent, but when it comes to love I have an idiot’s heart. For some strange reason I think that some fool on a barstool is going to be the love of my life. The one I almost married, I was with for eight years. He will, from this point forward, be known as Jagoff, or J.O. for short.

I was 32 when I met J.O. and hadn’t been sober for about two years. Needless to say my judgment was a little off. We spent a couple of tumultuous years, then I ended it, for the sixteenth thousandth time, only to find myself pregnant at 35. We got back together, and three days later, the morning he screamed at me when I asked him to go to the doctor with me, (he had/has a little temper issue, as we will explore) I miscarried baby #1.

Now, up until that point I had not used any birth control with JO. We had been together for three years, and done a lot of drinking in that time. I realized that I needed to quit drinking and get back to school, and had been sober, by the time I became pregnant, for nine months. I guess the universe or God decided if I could do it for nine months, then I was allowed to get pregnant. I wasn’t trying. But I wasn’t using any birth control either. I often wondered if there were something wrong, but lack of health insurance, plus the consistent assurance from EVERY woman I knew that I had “plenty of time to have children, even well into your forties” made me feel that I did not have anything to worry about.

So this pregnancy, and loss, led to my staying with this freakshow for five more years, trying for a baby. By the time I finished college and got myself a nice job with great health insurance benefits, I was 38. The first three RE’s I saw all said, “you have ovulation problems, low progesterone, and oh, by the way, you’re getting too old to have any good quality eggs. You should have been in here 10 years ago.” Huh? I was told I could have kids until I was, like, 49-50! This event in my life has led me to never take advice from anyone, check it out for yourself before you base major life decisions on someone’s opinion who has no idea what they are talking about. Now I know plenty of women who get pregnant and have healthy kids well into their forties. But I’m convinced that my eggs aged prematurely, and there is no question in my mind that this fact is directly related to years of heavy smoking and drinking. I just never made the connection that the health of my eggs was at stake.

So then the temperature taking, the sex timing, the ovulation kits, the message boards, and Clomid. Ah, loved the Clomid. And got pregnant again. But didn’t KNOW I was pregnant, assumed I was not after negative hpt’s, until I helped T move. And in the midst of moving heavy furniture, had stabbing pain in my gut and passed the hugest clots I’ve ever seen. The next morning went to the RE’s and got a beta, which confirmed I had indeed, been pregnant. So miscarriage #2. Also JO’s.

By this time I was beginning to realize that not only was there a pretty big possibility that I may never have children, but that the entity (not sure I can really call him a person) I was sharing my life with was completely devoid of any sympathy toward me regarding this realization. It was almost as if he was afraid to talk about it. He did want kids, that I was sure of. Being nine years older than me, loved children, and despite his horrible temper, was actually a pretty great guy most of the time. But when it came to supporting me through my infertility struggle, he was a piece of shit. Now I realize he just didn’t know what to do or say. But the message boards and blogs are what eventually killed it for me. It was awful to read about all these women who were struggling with infertility too, but had loving, kind, sympathetic husbands who were there for them when they got a negative beta, when the doctor had yet more bad news about their reproductive system, when they had a loss. My partner got pissed off because he couldn’t have sex every day so he could keep his sperm count up. He took it personally when my breasts were sore from medication. And the mood swings, forget it. I had to pretend and do the Pollyanna dance to keep his temper at bay. And cried myself to sleep alone for a thousand nights, because he just didn’t care. All for his child.

The final final was pretty much about donor eggs. He simply refused to discuss it. By this time we were engaged, and doing injections and inseminations. For him, the horror of having to produce a sample was the end of all tortures. He simply did not have what it takes to get through an IVF, and then add to it the donor issues I am now facing. He was much too weak for that. So that was the end for me. Shortly after my 40^th birthday it was over and I knew I would never take him back. That was two years ago, and here I am.

I’m still getting over the bitterness and the sorrow of not having a loving man to share this joy and excitement with, and having to raise these kids on my own. It hurts sometimes when feel lonely. But I thank God every day that my kids are not his. I never want them to hurt like I did and to have to live with a maniac like him. And although I’ve forgiven him, simply for my own spiritual peace, I do feel a sense of sweet reward now that I am going to be a mother after all.

My message to him is this: it doesn’t matter what you’ve done with your life, whether you are happy or not, whether you have love in your life or not. It does not matter to me at all. Because I’ve got mine. And nothing can change that now.

Happy Days

I have said that I’m feeling better and better, but every once in awhile I still get an awful row of days. Like right now for instance. My allergies are driving me nuts, and my exhaustion has been back for the last two days, really teeing me off. Plus the hormones or SOMETHING is making me blubber like a three year old. I’m not kidding, each day I find myself in tears over something really stupid. On the days I feel great, nothing can get me down. I want more days like this.

So anyhow, a couple of really great things have happened: Cecily has had her baby, which you may already know about, but I tell you, it really helps to hear her say that all this crap is worth it. REALLY love what she named her baby (hmm I wonder why). And just think, I get a double dose of joy. About time if you ask me. Also, a lovely lady on my message board is finally pregnant with twins after EIGHT losses. She’s 8w1d and I really think both of hers are going to make it. I just cry a river when I read stories like this, are you guys tearing up too with joy and happiness for me? (Especially those of you who are pregnant?)

I really appreciate the comments on my last post, it really means a lot to get that kind of support. I truly could give a jack’s ass about what anyone thinks, and actually look forward to hauling someone’s ass into court if they give me any shit. A little snarky today, are we? YES WE ARE. Anyway, you guys are the best, it really makes me feel good to know people admire me out there. Sometimes I do get sad when I think about my children not having a father. But I’d rather they had none than some loser asshole who made them feel like a burden. I’m certainly not opposed to marriage, but you better believe it will be with someone who wants them as much as I do.

I’ve made a deal with myself to spend more time on this blog talking about the unique issues I’m facing. I have been so caught up in my pregnancy and the hell these last few months have been. Although I keep hearing I got off easy. I haven’t actually tossed my cookies yet (knock on wood), but the exhaustion, allergies, and bullshit over missing time at work has been a drag. I think it’s almost over. So you guys can look forward to better posts and hopefully some exciting info re: baby genders and movement in the next month or two. Please comment! I promise I’ll be better at responding. Thanks for reading.

Let the judging begin………

I was warned not to post this. But I’m doing it anyway. When I first started down this path, I knew there would be many times others would judge me for using donors. This has happened now of the first time. I’m not too upset about it, but one person happens to be my boss, among others. So I have to be very careful how I handle it. The funny thing about it is that he does not know I used an egg donor, only sperm, and therefore my children do not have a father. Unless he reads this blog and has put two and two together (get it? two and two!).

I tell you, I’m really no that upset. I just worry about people who judge others, and I’m sure I’m guilty of this too on some level. I just believe in karma so strongly (is that a word?) that I fear they will be judged the same way times three. I know it all comes back to you. And that’s a shame.

The really awesome thing is that over a dozen people have approached me and told me I’ve got Moxie. Guts. Gumption. Balls. Well. Maybe not those. But you get the picture. I’m not sure it’s possible to care less about the judgers. But it sure is nice to be noticed for my efforts and say to hell with society and its rules. It’s the 21^st century for cat’s sake, people! Get out of the dark ages! I still say I am lucky to be born in a country where I can do this without being totally ostracized. But you can be sure there are plenty of people who have something to say about it.

I am sorry that my decision is making some people uncomfortable. I wish they would come to me and talk about it. But I know that will never happen. It’s okay. Like I’ve always said, you always find out who your friends really are when going through extreme times. I mean, it’s not like I’m going around the office shouting that I used the best-looking, MBA-holding donor available. But I do need to realize that this is only the beginning; there will be times when my children will have to face this kind of bullshit. Which REALLY makes me want to move from this very conservative place to one where people don’t live in a little box where you’re not allowed to color outside of the lines.

Ok, rant over. For now. We are definitely going to explore this subject much more in the months to come. I am feeling great, still have a little insomnia, but nausea is gone and Dr. Love announced I am doing great other that gaining a few pounds too fast. I think I can get this under control now, since I am swimming again. The babies are great, sorry no pics this time. Please post about your ideas on this subject, being judged that is. Thanks for reading.