Radio Silence

Tomorrow, February 27, 2013, thousands of people across this planet are going dark. They are shutting down all forms of social media for the day in honor of the 27 MILLION men, women and children in bondage today. Modern day slavery exists. In fact, there are more people enslaved today than at any other time in history. In 161 countries, including our own, slavery still exists.

Passion Conferences has created a campaign called End It Movement with the purpose to shine a light on slavery. They want every man, woman and child to know that there are 27 million people, just like them who are forgotten, who are pushed out of mind, who are living in the shadows. You may have heard a little something about this on CNN as they reported the kick off of this campaign earlier this January.

So, I'm joining in. Tomorrow, February 27, I'm signing off from social media. No Facebook, no Twitter (I don't tweet), and no blogs. It's one very small thing that I can do to call attention to their plight. I can't change the world, but together we can be a force for good. Our collective voice is stronger. I'll see you all on the 28th.

Baby Mania

It appears to be round 3 of baby mania around here. Round 1 occurred about the time I was marrying Sam. That spring and summer there was a rash of baby announcements. All of those babies are turning 2. Then came the more recent explosion. About a year ago, Facebook lit up like a Christmas tree and we received call after call to hear somebody was pregnant. I survived round 2... the babies are born. I was hoping for a respite. A little down time in which the only pregnant people would be my infertile friends. I should have known.

Round 3 is officially underway. It appears that the entire world, or at least the world who didn't just have a baby sometime in November through February is now pregnant and due sometime between June and September. I know that I shouldn't let it get me down, but for a bunch of these ladies it's their second or third child. And for the rest, they got married like six months ago. Blah.

And when I say everybody, I mean everybody. As I have mentioned before, on Sunday's I have the privilege of hanging out with some pretty awesome toddlers. I swear to you, within the last couple of weeks, I've learned that nearly every one of them is becoming a big brother or sister. Huh? Didn't you like just push this one out? How are you pregnant again, already?

It would be so easy to sit here and begrudge all the mommies and daddies in my world who are becoming mommies and daddies times two, or three, or five. But really, I'm just jealous. They are all leading my life, or at least the life I thought I'd have. I remember, in my ignorance, I planned exactly how far apart all of my children would be spaced. I took my cues from 7th Heaven, to get the spacing right. It was about two years give or take from birth to birth. From my perspective now, a second or third baby when you still have one in diapers seems insane. Not insane like "why would you?", more like "how could you?". I mean, seriously, what are you people, rabbits? Do you have sex every day? Ten times a day? That's my initial attitude. But then when the green envy monster that lives in me cools down a tiny bit, I realize that this is simply life for most people. They have sex, they get pregnant.

For the last year or so, I've felt like I need to educate young women. To save them from themselves. To save them from their husband's, and culture's idea that waiting longer to start a family is a good idea. I want to save them all from the pain of finding out getting pregnant is going to take a while or cost a fortune. But seriously, who am I kidding? The odds are that they would all be pregnant in a matter of months. Heck, some of them will probably get pregnant with their pants on.

Going through infertility has made me totally appreciate the miracle of the ten million things that have to go exactly right to achieve a pregnancy. Understanding all of the places that it can go wrong has in some way made me feel like getting pregnant must be moderately hard for everyone. I know that's weird to say, and I don't think I'm even explaining myself well. I guess all of this is to say that round 3 of babies, as they are all little brothers and sisters, conceived on birth control, or conceived within six months of the wedding night, is reminding me of this: I'm really broken.

Conception is certainly a miracle. It's true that a bazillion things have to go right at the exact right time for a baby to be made. However, our God is a pretty good designer. Despite the infinite things that can go wrong, he made it so that it can go right without even trying for most people. It's not THEM who are abundantly fertile freaks of nature, it's ME, with the a chronically empty uterus, who is the anomaly.

Confession

"These are my confessions: Just when I thought I said all I could say,

My chick on the side said she got one on the way"

I know this is what played in your head… apparently,

 Usher has forever altered the connotations of that word.

Confession time: my prayer life stinks. At one point in this journey to make a baby, I was praying like crazy. It seemed as if every waking moment was a cry to God for something to work. At previous times in my life, I feel like I literally communed with God. When the Bible says pray continuously, I can honestly say I know what that means. My days were like ongoing conversations with my Father.

However, things aren't that great now. I don't feel like I consciously decided not to pray. There wasn't a turning point in which I said "this is dumb. Why am I wasting my time?" It has sort of just evolved. 

I still fully believe in the power of prayer. But the thing is, I believe in the power of other people's prayer, not really my own. So I'm like, "you should pray about it" to others, but when it's my own thing, ehhhh. Hypocrite, I know.

The problem is that when I start to pray, a wrestling match/debate starts in my mind. I pray, "God, you know the desires of my heart…", but then thoughts like, "He knows, but does He care?" and "the scriptures say that He will give me the desires of my heart [if/when/once] I delight myself in Him." I know that God cares about me and loves me like a daughter; however, I also believe that He is God, and therefore, His ultimate plan is to bring glory to Himself. If my little (feel huge) problems don't fit in with His story, if they don't bring Him glory, then why am I praying about them?

It's a mess up in my head I tell you, a mess. Infertility has made me question my faith like nothing else ever has. And I don't mean that as if I'm suddenly wondering "is there a God?". My faith in God the Father, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit has not shifted, but I'm finding myself asking a lot more questions of who, how, and why?

The niggling doubts and questions that infertility has woven into my prayer life has then affected my prayers about everything. I should be praying for a job. Things are starting to get pretty desperate around here. It's a minimum of three months before Sam will have a job. We need money. I need to get out of the house. So again, I should be praying for a job, and trusting that God will provide, but I'm not. I try to, but then those prayers get interrupted with, "if He doesn't answer prayers for BABIES, He's not going to trouble Himself with jobs." 

I absolutely hate this about myself. I want to be someone who ardently believes in the power of prayer. Prayer is a biblical command, so I want to get it right. It seems easiest now to blame infertility. To say if I hadn't been dealt this hand of cards, I'd be better, have more faith, pray more. However, the scriptures are full of stories in which the characters were tested and yet they came out the other side with more faith, with more trust in God. 

I want to get there. To the other side, and I want to be there with my faith fully intact and prayers powerful enough to make powers and principalities tremble.

Adrift at Sea

I'm adrift at sea... Four years ago when I was in college, I had such big dreams. I don't mean President of the United States big, not even med school big, but they were big enough for me. I was working at an awesome job as I was completing my final semesters and I started to see what my life could look like. I started to understand the ways in which I could leverage my education, skills, and experience for the Lord. Soon after graduation, my dreams started to come true and I felt like I was shooting straight to the top. I felt like God had a distinct plan for my life and that I was needed.

Shortly after graduation, my dreams started to disintegrate. I felt so confused, "didn't you need me, God?" However. I told myself that I had big things ahead and important life changes to concentrate on. It was time to get married and focus on Sam. It was Sam's time to pursue his dreams.

Initially, I told myself that my dreams for my career were just on hold. I believed it would all work out soon. And honestly, I told myself that even if those doors closed for me forever, even if I never got another chance to do what I love to do, and do it for the kingdom, I would be okay. I felt like my greatest calling was to be a mom. That superseded everything else. I thought that very quickly I would be a mom and find huge fulfillment in that.

But now I'm neither. I'm not a mom, and I probably won't be any time in the near future. But I also don't have a career that I can call meaningful. I feel as if all of dreams are dissolving before my eyes. My life looks NOTHING like I planned. Nothing like I thought it would. At every turn along this road, I thought it was just a small detour. I thought in 6 months or a year, maybe two or three years the path I was on would meet back up with the path I was destined to be on.

Instead, I think my path looks more like a series of forks. I initially went left when my life should have gone right, and it's been left after left ever since. I don't know if I should try to cut a path back to the original plan or just blaze a new trail.

My biggest frustration in all of this is that I completely lack a sense of purpose. I know that sometimes in life, the purpose is simply to pay the bills. Sometimes in life, it's about getting from point A to point B. Sometimes, it's apparently about saving up for IVF. But is it not possible to do all of those things and have a sense of purpose? A feeling of fulfillment?

Years ago, I really thought that I was going to be doing what I love through ministry opportunities. I thought God specifically wanted me. Now, I feel like I've been cut loose. I have no rudder, no sail, and I can't find a current. I'm just floating out here hoping for some direction.

I know that God does have a plan, both for His ultimate glory and for my life. But right now, I have no idea what my direction is supposed to be. I need for there to be a purpose for my days. He has a plan, but I don't have the map. Where do I go next?

Love is...

Now that "love day" is over which apparently has become synonymous with posting photos of your rich spoils on Facebook, and my new personal favorite, announcing your pregnancy, we can discuss actual love. Sorry, I'm still on my rant from yesterday, but really, Facebook was INTENSE. I can only imagine what it would have been like to be a single lady yesterday.

Anyway, off topic. My devotional early this week kind of stuck it to me good. Serious conviction time. So I thought I'd share. We will start with this:

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

1 Corinthians 13: 4-7

Everyone has heard that scripture. It was probably read at more than half the weddings you've attended. Those verses never really meant too much to me, I guess from their abundant use, until I heard Andy Stanley's series "Falling Staying in Love". This is an INCREDIBLE series, and in it, Andy explains how to stay in love. We all know how to fall in love, that part is easy. But in our culture, staying in love is really, really hard. And I'll admit, coming from a broken family, with more broken families all around me, and marrying a man who also came from a broken family, I was having some doubts about my ability to love him three, five, ten, twenty years in. Four years ago, when I heard this message, it just hit me: God commands us to love one another. It's not a noun, it's a verb. So falling out of love isn't the problem… it's not a thing. You can't fall out of an action.

But apparently, I need reminders, because despite understanding the verse, I still fail at carrying it out A LOT.

So this is how my devotional breaks it all down:

Love endures long. It has the ability to put up with stuff for a long time. Fail. I so often have a short fuse. One little thing goes wrong and my mood swings like a pendulum.
Love is never envious, it doesn't want what it doesn't have. Fail. I'm currently so envious of Sam. He knows what he wants out of life, and his dreams are about to come true.
Love is never boastful or vainglorious, it doesn't call attention to itself. Fail. My pride so often gets in the way of loving my husband.
Love is never conceited or rude. Fail. I'm rude to him all the time. Not intentionally, but little things don't show him respect.
Love doesn't insist on its own way. Love pays no attention to a suffered wrong. Fail. Isn't that what arguing is all about, "I want my way"? I know that for me, laying down my will and forgetting the moment I feel slighted or mistreated is so hard.
Love never gives up!

Man oh man, do I fall short of loving Sam well. I've been so richly blessed to have a man like Sam in my life. But I fail so often at showing my gratitude and communicating love and respect to him. I'm so thankful that Sam doesn't give up on me!

How about you? Are you actively living out love? Are you doing love? If you're married, how are you doing at loving your spouse? If you're not married, who has the Lord placed in your life and asked you to love? Are you loving well?

Happy Hallmark Day

So maybe I'm a teeny, tiny bit cynical about Valentine's day. Maybe.

We don't really celebrate Valentine's day around the Greavu household. It's predominantly my fault. Super, duper early on in our relationship I explained my strange relationship with this holiday. I told Sam that under no circumstances was he to EVER to propose on Valentine's day, as it would be the most UN-romantinc thing I could imagine.

Plus, we have bad luck on Valentine's day when we try. Our first V-day together, Sam was going out of town to play basketball (I don't remember which city, but lets just say it was GA vs Ole Miss). We were SUPER early in our dating relationship so he was still trying really hard. After class that morning, he had minutes with which to work before catching the bus to Atlanta for their flight. He went to buy me a plethora of cupid and heart themed items and was rushing back to break into my apartment, when he was caught speeding. It was something awful like 54 in a 25. I felt HORRIBLE. He of course used it to show just how much he loved me. I just thought it was a super expensive day for a balloon, a bear, and some candy by the time you added in the cost of the ticket. Sad.

My issue with V-day is basically this: I want my love to buy me flowers and chocolates, write me sweet notes and send me love letters, and shower me with gifts because he WANTS to, not because a day shows up on the calendar and he feels guilty if he doesn't. I'd rather be the ONLY girl at work to receive a bouquet of flowers on a random Tuesday in July, than one of many girls who receives a bouquet on February 14th.

So ultimately, this means that we don't do much on Valentine's day. Which, I'm honestly okay with. The only thing that we've done the last few years, well I guess longer than a few now, this is our 8th V-day after all, is buy some steaks to cook at home. It's nice. We don't splurge on good steaks very often. We also cheat the system and order a Bloomin' Onion from Outback to go. I know a healthy vegetable (errr, root?) turned into a heart attack… but gosh, golly they are so yummy.

I'm kind of bummed to say that this year we will be breaking tradition. Staying with my mom (yes, we're still here) kind of changes things, but it's so not a big deal. I'd much rather stay in and eat chicken than go out and wait for 2 hours for a tiny table in the middle of a PACKED restaurant just because we feel like we don't love each other enough if we don't mark this day.

However, if you looooovvvvvveeeeee Valentine's day and this day means the world to you, I hope you get everything that communicates love to you. I hope your special person showers you with love and affection. I hope that every day, but particularly today, that you feel loved.

Logistics

This is a super lame, boring post. If this is the future of Genuine Greavu, we're doomed. However, it took me for-ev-er to discover how to handle the following problems, and I thought, well, I should share. Sharing is good, right?

Okay, so all of you blogspot bloggers out there, this is for you: Many of you probably already have this set up, but for those who don't you may be interested to know that you can respond to comments via email. Let's say you have an awesome post that drums up lots of interest. The comments start pouring in. You'd like to respond to some (or all) of them, but you don't want to do so on the blog. Well, there is a way to respond to that individual commenter privately through email.

Let me show you what this looks like:

Okay, so my friend Allison already has this all figured out, so we will use her as an example. Allison commented on one of my posts.

Comment from Allison on the blog.

Now obviously, I can view Allison's comment on the blog. And it shows up when I log into blogger too. But I also receive all of the comments posted on the blog directly to my email. So that's step one. You do this by setting up your "Comment Notification" settings.

So all the comments on my blog are sent directly to my email. Here is where the best part comes in. I can respond directly to Allison through email. It's private and it doesn't junk up the blog feed. I don't know about you, but I NEVER click "Notify me of Further Comments". Some people receive a GAZILLION comments. I don't want to be notified every time. And I never, ever go back to see if someone responded to my comment. This prevents these problems entirely. Here's how it works:

Gmail response to Allison's comment on the blog.

Now Allison and I can go back and forth and neither of us ever have to return to the blog. But here's the thing, this only works for certain people. Why? Because unless you manually change your settings, your default email address is noreply-comment@blogger.com. See?

Okay, so how do you set all of this up? Like I said it took me forever to figure it out. Someone spent time writing about it, and I figure, "why reinvent the wheel," right? So here's a link to a great step by step tutorial of how to set this up. I know some people like anonymity on the blog, but it allows you to enter any email address. You can make one up entirely for your blog and remain anonymous.

Everybody with wordpress, you're on your own. I'm sure there is a way, but I don't know what it is. Sorry.

On a completely separate note, let's discuss what "following" does and does not do. Following means you love me. So all of you lurkers out there and real life friends go on and click that little button to the right. Show me some love. I'm not asking for a Tiffany's ring or anything, just a little commitment. I know, I know, shameless self promotion is so tacky. If you have a google account, it will allow you to stay up-to-date with the blog (and any others you may stalk) through Google Reader. I currently try to remember to post a link to the blog on Facebook with each new post, but let me tell you, this may not continue forever. If another outbreak of baby announcements occurs in which 10 zillion friends all announce pregnancies within two weeks, the Facebook account will probably get deactivated. Sorry. And I know you would be sooooooo sad to miss out on these exciting updates from the Greavu household. So do yourself a favor and follow me already!!! Following the blog will not fill your email up with spam or hack into your personal accounts. It's safe, I promise. You can also get updates via the "email option", but that doesn't show the love in quite the same way. Boo.

So, now that you're fully updated on your many blogger questions, I'm off to find something to do with myself. It looks like we have a long weekend ahead of us--full of resume building and cover letter writing for Sam! Big boy is starting to APPLY FOR JOBS!!!! Show me the money!!!!

Anomaly XB-6783746

So apparently, I'm an anomaly. No really, I'm quite unique. Kind of like him:

Michael, aka Anomaly XB-6783746
Yea, I know I'm the only person who watched season 5 of Fringe

My doctor called on Tuesday. This is the first time that an RE has actually called me, so of course, I thought I was dying. Thankfully, he's just a nice guy. One of the nurses was out of the office and he offered to call patients to give test results. At my last appointment we ran a couple more tests, and guess what? More GRAY!!!! He actually laughed and said that I'm interesting. People, that's what I call winning!!! 

So what else is gray about the Greavu's besides the aforementioned?

Let's return to the AMH debacle. You might remember that I tested WILDLY different the previous two times. 5.7 in May of 2012, and 2.54 in November. Huh??? He was hoping that it would come back close to one of those two, ruling out the other as a fluke or an error. I was simply terrified that it might have taken another nose dive. Well, don't you know, it's 4.3. He was quite frustrated as that is practically equal distance from the previous two scores… smack dab in the middle. It is however on the higher side of the AMH scale. He, of course, said that this is one more grain of sand thrown on the PCOS pile. He said that PCOS can get worse with age, so it might not have been an issue a few years ago, but that's its developing into something now. Maybe, nothing conclusive. Again. Lovely. And, despite my incessant claims that I do not have the symptoms, I'm kind of thinking it's possible. Last month my chart was a disaster and I didn't ovulate at all. This month, FertilityFriend seems to have found a possible O date, but I'm not so sure. If I did, I'm guessing my progesterone level is a 4 or something awful like that.

January 2013 BBT chart

My doctor also tested my CA-125. Don't google it, it'll scare you to death like it did me. You googled it anyway, didn't you? I tried to warn you. He wanted to see if my number gave any insight into endometriosis. He said that 34 is generally the cutoff for "no endo". My result was 39.6. Technically higher, but still significantly lower than the norm for endometriosis, which is 60-80. It seems to me like a lot of people would fall between 34 and 60… what do they do with those people? Scope them. Yep, you heard me. One week after the conversation about laparoscopy being a waste of time, we are back to debating it's usefulness. He said it is totally reasonable to believe that we could do the surgery and find NOTHING. But, he described himself looking over my chart searching for clues, and when you're "interesting" (aka difficult) little things add up. So not getting pregnant in two years, plus painful cycles, plus my CA-125 leads to a possible reason to perform the surgery.

It just never ends. The one and only good thing out of all of this is that my doctor finds me "intriguing". Now, that sounds awful. I'd love to be textbook. But since I'm not and Sam's not, well then, at least we are interesting enough to pay attention to us. We have become a problem that he has to solve, and I'm okay with that. I feel like we are a team. He's working on it, the information I give him is valuable, he's engaged, he's dedicated. He wants to solve the problem, find the answer… he wants us to succeed. 

Warding off Divorce

I feel icky just typing that word. The "d-word"... we don't say it in the Greavu household. However, several things have occurred that have gotten me thinking about it.

For one, several bloggers that I follow are going through divorce. These girls break my heart on so many levels... Infertility sucks. Period. In any and every circumstance it sucks, but when it tears apart your marriage... Well that's another whole level of suckiness entirely.

Secondly, more and more friends from my past, either college or high school, are getting divorced. Most often I see this on Facebook. I see so and so's name and think to myself, "wasn't she married?" Or "didn't she have a different name?" Only to discover that yes, the marriage has ended, the maiden name is back.

And most recently, my friend Aubrey wrote a blog about the tough times in marriage. She received some great advice from her dad on her wedding day, but it wasn't until her battles with infertility began, that she realized just how true his words were. And her words got me thinking.

Divorce isn't a giant leap, it's a slippery slope. Prevention is essential. Now, hear me when I say that there is no condemnation from me. If you are or have been divorced, I'm not judging in the least. I think I'm probably one of the only kids who prayed that her parents would get a divorce. Believe me, I see its purpose. But I also believe that a lot of good marriages end because of a lack of intention.

When we were in premarital counseling, our minister's wife shared with us something that has helped her in her marriage. She shared how you have to be on guard against divorce. Just as a garden left alone will be overrun by weeds, a marriage that is left unattended will wither and die.

She shared the 7 steps to divorce. These steps were first published by Dr. Sheila Kessler, a psychologist from Atlanta. My friend took her steps and elaborated on them. Take a look.

We all start here: Bliss.

Stages of Divorce:

1. Disillusionment

It isn’t long after we are married that the fog of infatuation begins to clear in our relationship and we begin to realize that our spouse has some faults. We may notice a tendency toward control, anger, or self-centeredness with his or her family of origin. Among the worst of faults are deficits in integrity and fidelity. Too often these issues are not addressed until they become full blown in mid-life and by then intense damage has been done. If a couple does not immediately address these issues the marriage is often headed for divorce.

2. Erosion

If the issues in stage 1 are not dealt with one or both partners will begin to lose respect for the other and intimacy will suffer. Instead of continuing to share life together each spouse tends to chart his or her individual course in life.

3. Detachment

In an effort to avoid being hurt spouses often isolate from each other. Very little communication takes place and anger and resentment sets in. Thoughts of separation come to mind.

4. Physical Separation

When separation occurs spouses often experience conflicting emotions such as relief (that the arguing has stopped) and loneliness, fear, and feeling like a failure. People who are not committed to reconciliation may prematurely by pass the grief process and immediately become involved romantically with another person.

5. Mourning & Letting Go

When divorce does indeed occur a grief process must occur that often takes 1to 2 years to complete. It is critical that this process occur before becoming romantically involved again. It is a time to mourn the loss of a partner and of the one who we assumed would be the love of our life. It is a time to accept reality and resolve sadness, anger, guilt, fear and revenge. Often this process involves one step forward and two steps back, that is, you may have to work through the stages of grief several times before emotions are healed and you can sense recovery.



6. Second Adolescence / A New Life

Here, one is able to look to the future instead of ruminating about the past. Here the goal is to have learned from the past, especially as it relates to your contributions to the failed relationship. New insight enables you to make healthier choices in your new life. Negatively, if insight has not been gained, individuals may become obsessed with finding that new life in drinking, partying, and seducing, in a desperate attempt to squelch loneliness.

7. Hard Work / Healthy Adjustment

With God’s help, time and hard work there can be abundant life after divorce.

The goal is to be wiser and stronger and operating with increased insight into God’s purpose for your life. As God leads you are ready to move on, under His direction, to a better life.

As you can see, these steps weren't intended to be a prevention method. Dr. Kessler's purpose was simply to outline the stages, sort of like the stages of grief. However, by knowing the general trend, you can be better prepared to fight for your marriage. The first step on the slippery slope is so simple. In fact, I don't think anyone even intentionally takes that first step. It's just the natural course following the wedding. 

If infertility has taught me anything, it is that my marriage needs to be in fighting condition every day. Life is going to happen, expectations will be unmet, the plans will change, and we have to be ready when dreams meet reality. For most, infertility will not be the trial. It will be something completely different, yet equally trying. But the biggest take away for me is that you never know when it's going to happen. Most married couples say vows to love each other and stay together in spite of sickness, in spite of debt or financial troubles, and in spite of the just plain bad times; however, when we say them, for most of us, all of that seems infinitely far away. Sam and I never dreamed for one second that infertility was waiting for us. We had no idea that two of our first three years would be spent in doctor's offices. We never foresaw the pain and heartache in store for us when we said "I do". None of us can see tomorrow, and that's why a strong marriage is so important. And part of that strength comes from standing guard. If you're married, lets all take a few moments to do some assessing and then go to war against the weeds that might have taken root. 

Life Crisis

I'm suddenly having a crisis. I know... we aren't cycling, we aren't planning to cycle, we have no surgeries scheduled, what could I possibly have to write about in regards to infertility? This is an understandable question, and one that I'll have to figure out soon. This blog was never intended to be an infertility blog, but it was pretty boring before all of that, I have to admit. Anyway, I digress.

Back to my crisis. I have NO idea why, but suddenly, today, I started experiencing extreme anxiety over my miscarriage. And not what you would expect. The anxiety doesn't stem from fear of another. No, I'm suddenly FREAKING out over knowing whether it even happened.

Let me pause here to present the facts. Those of you in the infertility world, pay attention; I want your opinions. Okay, so first up, here's my chart:

August 2011 BBT chart

I wasn't using OPK's, checking CM, or any of that yet. We'd only been trying for four months. Of course FertilityFriend loves multiple sources to confirm ovulation, but the dotted crosshairs aren't too unusual for me even when I have more than one. And ovulation on CD22 is not too unusual for me either. It's at the end of the spectrum, but not unheard of.

Let's move ahead to CD35, Monday. I actually felt pregnant. I was EXHAUSTED. I went home everyday that week and laid on the couch. Some nights I even went to sleep before dinner. I had no appetite. Nothing sounded appealing. I never specifically had morning sickness, it was more like all day nausea. I had made a deal with myself that I was not going to use a box of HPT's every cycle. Plus, I was starting to wonder if my brain was creating pregnancy symptoms, you know, like Mr. Schuester's ex-wife in GLEE? But I caved and tested. Now at this time I knew NOTHING about HPT's. I assumed a positive meant two dark lines. I received the world's faintest second line on a First Response Early Result (a sensitivity of 25), but assumed that meant negative. It confirmed my theory that I was going crazy and had a hysterical pregnancy just like Terri. I spoke to my mom and told her how I was feeling one evening, but that I was obviously not pregnant. I downplayed everything to her and Sam because I didn't want them to think I was crazy when my period showed up. She recommended I test again.

I waited until Wednesday, CD37 and retested that morning. A super duper faint second line showed up on a First Response test again. I thought that I was certifiably insane and swore I wasn't testing again. Thursday I felt HORRENDOUS, but I did not test. Friday, I spent the entire workday googling what an ultra faint second line meant. Everything said pregnant. I even read (from "super reliable" sources on pregnancy boards) that the amount of dye in the test varies and a darker line doesn't mean anything. A line is a line. So with unrest in my soul, butterflies in my stomach, and a smidgeon of hope in my heart, I bought Clear Blue Easy Digital (a sensitivity of 50) tests on the way home. Like a good TTCer I intended to wait for the morning. Like a normal TTCer, those tests were burning a hole through the bag. I HAD to test as soon as I got home.

PREGNANT

That's what is said. My heart stopped. It was pretty much the best night of my life.

And then the morning came. I woke up and simply had to see it again. I tested again.

Not Pregnant

I stopped breathing. I showed Sam. I ran to raid the closet for more tests. I found an Error Proof Test (a sensitivity of 25). I dipped. No doubt about it: absolutely NOTHING. I cried. Cue the worst, most stressful weekend ever. I had 48 hours before I could call my OBGYN.

Looking back, I should have called my general practitioner. The office had weekend hours. I'm sure they could have tested. But in my head, a pregnancy test required an OBGYN. So I waited 48 hours. I called the moment the doctor opened. I went to a separate lab for the blood draw by taking an early lunch. The blood was drawn at 11:30, 66 hours exactly since the positive test Friday afternoon.

My HCG was 2.1. My progesterone was .66 (is that even possible?).

Now, at the time, I knew NOTHING about what those numbers might mean. In fact, I didn't even the results. What I got was a phone call on Tuesday morning from a triage nurse (the one that took my call the day before) informing me that I was pregnant. She told me my number was low and that this could mean one of two things. 1- it was really early. I implanted late. 2- I was in jeopardy of miscarrying. She recommended that I go home to rest. The doctor called me three hours later and informed me that based on my positive HPT on Friday and my numbers now, I was, in fact, miscarrying. He was the nicest man EVER about it. He talked with me forever and listened to me sob. He told me to make note once the bleeding started and to track the bleed. If it was heavy, to call him back. Otherwise he wanted to see me on Thursday for an ultrasound and another BETA test.

He never said anything about an ultrasound that day. Every RE I've talked to since then has asked me what the ultrasound showed, but I didn't have one. I don't know what was visible, if anything.

An hour later I started spotting. By mid-afternoon it was a full flow. There were lots of clots (which I tried not to notice) but honestly, that's not super unusual for me. I've had many "normal" cycles that were clot heavy. My bleeding was never very heavy, in fact maybe even lighter than normal, it was definitely more than 50% clots. I was in pain, more so than a normal period, but not like I was dying or anything.

I went in Thursday morning for the ultrasound. The ultrasound showed nothing as far as I know. I never heard specifically what was seen, but he confirmed that I would not need a D&C. My HCG level was recorded as <1 .="" p="">
Now, here I am 14 months later, and I've never seen another positive, faint positive, imaginary positive… nothing. Tonight, I'm replaying all of the comments that my RE's have made over and over in my head:

My doctor at ACRM treated it as if it was a confirmed pregnancy and miscarriage. She marked it in my chart, based on my period date, as a 6 week pregnancy.

At my one and only appointment with Dr. Massey, he told me (as if i didn't know) that with numbers like that it wasn't called a miscarriage, but a chemical pregnancy (same thing in my book).

My current RE hypothesized that I might have had an ectopic pregnancy. He reiterated that a 2 HCG level is actually considered not pregnant. He said that within 5 days of the first faint test, using ANY HPT, I should have had "a nice dark line". The facts: that my line never got darker, my numbers were ultra low, my cycle was super long, all made him curious if it might have been ectopic. But there was no ultrasound to refer too.

Knowing what I know now, a 6 week pregnancy should have had numbers 100x what I had. Even taking into consideration the late ovulation date, it should have been MUCH higher. Was I ever pregnant?

Why am I having a crisis here? I've mourned like crazy for over a year. I've cried over that loss of life like I'd known her all my life. It would be a serious shock to the system to find that I mourned no one (am I starting to sound like Manti Te'o?)

While it would be wonderful to not have had a child die, I'm selfishly scared to death of finding this out. I know. I'm super insane. Let me try to explain. I've heard at least 100 times from Sam, my mom, friends, and doctors this phrase: "well, at least we know that you can get pregnant". I've clung to this information for months. When all seems completely lost, I tell myself it can happen again. Even when looking to IVF, I've held like a life raft onto the fact that sperm and egg have met before. I'm terrified to lose that life raft. I would have no proof that I can get pregnant. My confidence in my ability to do so would be next to nothing going forward.

So, what do you think? Was I pregnant? Was it a false positive from the digital test? What about the ultra faint lines the days before? Is it possible to have a positive HPT and then 15 hours later, a negative?  Is it possible to have a BETA high enough to show up on an HPT, yet be considered not pregnant 66 hours later? Is it possible for your BETA to drop from, worst case scenario, a 50 to 2 in three days? Am I going crazy?

Pause

Do you ever feel like your life is paused? Like the screen is frozen in the most awkward moment? You know that if you could just find the dang remote and press play you could get that awful look off your face and relax.

Ugly face moment from NBC's Do No Harm.
Poor guy, I think he's really intelligent, but he looks quite dumb here.

That's how I feel. My life is stuck on pause and I lost the remote (or Sterling ate it). I've realized lately that I've pretty much stopped living. Literally, the only thing that gets me out of the house is church on Sundays and my small group one night a week. There are soooooo many things that I want to do, but for one reason or another, I don't.

Take running for example. Once upon a time, a long, long time ago I trained for the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer 3-Day. The training sucked a lot. But my mom, the slave driver equivalent to Jillian Michaels had me scared out of my mind. So I trained, and I trained. I was in such good shape by the time the 3-Day actually arrived that the 60(ish) miles in 3 days was actually easier than the first 10 mile training walk. Now, I didn't lose a pound during all of that training, but Sam lost like a gazillion. It was disgusting. So, whenever we get really frustrated with ourselves, we say that we should train for something. Training = motivation. Sam always wants to run. Now, I can't run… like at all. But I figure, I couldn't walk 10 miles at first either. So running sounds ultra hard, but plausible. And then the fear sets in. What if, by some insane miracle, I got pregnant, didn't know it, and went for a run, and well, you know where this is going… What if running caused a miscarriage? I would NEVER get over it. Ever.

The same can be said for Zumba. Zumba looks fun(ish). If I had a partner in crime who was equally uncoordinated and new to Zumba, if we went out and bought new workout attire like Erika recommends, and if we stayed waaaaayyyyy in the back, then Zumba might help get rid of these extra pounds I'm carrying around. But then I think, "what if I bounced my baby loose?". See what goes on inside of this head? It's not fun, I tell you.

Then there is the financial aspect of living. The original plan was to buy a house this year. Sooner rather than later. We figure we got dealt a pretty crappy hand as far as graduating in the middle of a recession, but as far as the housing market goes… it couldn't really be better. We wanted to take advantage now, while a mortgage payment is actually less than rent, rather than miss the boat and watch home ownership sail ten years out of the picture. But that was the plan before we learned that becoming parents was going to cost us BIG bucks. I don't know how to be a home owner and a mom on the same budget. So if I have to choose, well owning a home is possible at 40, while getting this lady pregnant is probably, well, not.

And as far as posterity goes, my plan was to document our life really well with beautiful photos. I've wanted professional photos of us for over a year. I look like a moron 99% of the time in photos, but people like Chris + Allie can make just about anything beautiful. Here's proof:

Engagement photo of Sam and I in Fall of 2009.
All the credit goes to the*Reason for making me look lovely.

See what I mean? I'd love a photo session, but I keep holding out expecting to need maternity photos before too long. Plus, I feel guilty paying for photos of just us.

The pause on life is literally at all levels. When I really thought pregnancy was right around the corner, I wouldn't let myself buy any clothes because obviously I was about to have to buy a whole new wardrobe to fit my baby bump. I've slacked a bit here because everything I'm buying now is larger and therefore more likely to last into a pregnancy, but still the thoughts are there.

Sam and I planned to go on some great vacations. I thought maybe our five year anniversary would be somewhere fabulous like Hawaii or Europe. But we would need to start saving soon to pull off a trip like that sans credit cards. But lets get real, there is at least $15,000 needed before the Hawaii fund gets started, so that will probably never happen.

As far as jobs go, I delayed applying for jobs initially because I didn't want to have to deal with a new employer who wouldn't let me off for an appointment. Plus, I didn't want to have to explain what I was doing or where I was going all the time to a new boss. I figured that there weren't too many employers out there that would be very excited for a new employee who was trying super desperately to get knocked up.

I'm not happy in any way with this pause in my life. I'm so ready to move on, try new things, reach a new status in life. Of course, I'd really like to fast forward a bit, but normal speed would be much better than this stalled out, frozen thing I've got going on. As you may have surmised from the pitiful post from the other night, we are done with medically assisted trying to conceive for a while now. With that HUGE chunk of my life missing, I've got to figure out how to live again. There HAS TO BE joy in the waiting, you know?

Anybody else, fertile or infertile, ever feel like somebody pushed pause on the movie of your life? Did you ever find the remote? Are you still paused or playing away?