Out of Left Field

Today, only 5 days from my last visit, I have confirmation that I have one egg getting ready for release.  On my LEFT ovary!

It’s really weird, but when I go to the office thinking I’m going to ask about a particular issue, the doctor proactively gives me the information or my body does something to answer my inquiries.  Today, I was going to ask if it was a problem that my left ovary always goes into hiding and never seems to have any eggs.  Today, Lefty was clear, where she was supposed to be, and has a pretty little 1.5 follicle.

Other than that, I don’t have much more news.  I actually don’t even remember what day I’m supposed to go back to the clinic.  Hopefully, Cody remembers!

Hope you’re all well.  Have a fabulous weekend, friends!




Negatives and Positives

I never, ever, ever thought I’d say, write, or believe this.  

I am thankful that our infertility struggles are due to my apparent Polycycstic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS).

I was reading a blog today about a couple struggling with conceiving.  The writer goes on to say how frustrated she is about the process and that she’s on the verge of giving up.  She states that her husband feels bad and blames himself for the struggles they’re facing.  And here’s the part that made my jaw drop:  she blames him too.  Openly and, in my opinion, quite rudely.  She is angry and frustrated with him and intent on him knowing that yes, he IS the problem.  I read a few more of her posts and see that there are other times when she comes right out and puts all of the blame on her husband.  There were other posts about “their” plan of attack, which mostly included her husband having to take 541 supplements a day (a totally made up number, but it seemed close).

I’m not going to sit here and hate on the blogger or her lack of respect for her husband, which I did find appalling.  I don’t know the dynamics of their relationship.  I don’t know all of their struggles.  I don’t know anything about them or their situation at all, really**.  I actually have to thank her – because if I hadn’t read her blog, I don’t think I would have had my light-bulb moment.

Back when Cody and I started this fertility bullshit drama nightmare journey, I had sort of hoped that Cody’s sperm analysis would have shown something off.  When the first test came back with some weird numbers, there was a little relief for me.  I didn’t want to be the problem.  And if I was going to be contributing to the problem. I didn’t want to be the only one with a problem.  Cody’s second sperm analysis came back with perfect results and the cause of our struggle was officially all on me.  Tough pill to swallow, let me tell ya.  If you asked me any time after the initial results, I would tell you that I was happy for Cody’s results – and I would not be lying.  After today, I can tell you that it’s the honest-to-God truth:  I am so grateful that Cody has the most perfect bill of health.

You may be wondering what I’m getting at here.  And, yes, I do realize how long winded I can be.  The point to all of this is this:  had there been an issue with Cody’s results, I think there may have been a part of me that would get upset with him month after month during this struggle.  I like to believe I would not be malicious or deliberately hurtful, but I don’t know that for sure.  This way, I can guarantee that I’ll never put blame on him.  I will never make him feel inadequate, incapable, or like less of a man.  And for that, I am eternally thankful.

While I wish we didn’t ever have to go through any of this in the first place, the reality is that we are.  I apparently have PCOS*.  I am overweight.  I am diabetic.  I really am the reason we are in this predicament   But you know what?  Cody has never made me feel like it’s my fault.  He will never sit there are put blame on me or make me feel bad about myself or like I’m a failure with weight issues.  And when I’m feeling down and like less of a woman, he picks me back up and tells me that there is no fault.  This is our journey, we are in it together, and we will conquer together.

I am pissed with my stupid BFN this morning, and angry that I had to take the test when I already knew I wasn’t pregnant, but I’m happy to find a silver lining to this cycle.  

I love my husband.  I am in love with my husband.  I appreciate my husband.  And I refuse to let infertility take that from me too.




* With regards to my PCOS diagnosis, I have a hard time believing that this is something that I actually have.  I go into it more in one of my other posts, but I don’t have the classic signs and symptoms of PCOS.  My lab results don’t even point to PCOS, but it’s still the diagnosis I was given.  I don’t argue about it, since I’m not actually a doctor.  But I still don’t fully believe it.

** I know I go on and on about the blogger who made me open my eyes.  I don’t agree with the way she talks about her husband and literally says that yes, he should feel bad because it is all his problem.  What I do want to add is that I feel bad for her.  I feel bad for her husband.  I understand the frustrations, fears, and struggles that infertility breeds.  So while I think she needs to get her head out of her ass and see how she might be making her husband feel, I can understand and appreciate their struggles.  I hope they get their baby soon!

All Aboard the Pity Train

I just want my turn.  There’s really nothing more to it.  I am aware that there are people struggling longer than Cody and I have.  I am aware that there are people requiring more intervention, more science, more testing.  I am aware that I do not have the worst case, but it does not make it any less devastating for me.  

I can’t help feeling broken.  I feel broken emotionally.  I am crying like a crazy person today. I work from home and I can’t bring myself to log in for my shift.  I’m anxious and sad.  I don’t want to deal with customers today.  And I feel physically broken.  I can’t seem to do the most natural thing a woman can do.  It makes me feel like less of a woman, and less of the wife Cody deserves.

I know these are irrational thoughts.  It’s not my fault.  I didn’t ask for these struggles.  I’m sure they’re also typical feelings of any woman going through fertility issues.  And if a woman going through a similar struggle told me that she wasn’t a “complete woman”, I’d do and say anything to try and make her see she’s just as whole as any other woman.  The ability to carry a baby does not define you as a woman any more than your breasts would.  Practising what we preach is always a much harder thing to do, though.

I didn’t even take the test yet!  I don’t officially know I’m not pregnant.  It’s just a feeling.  A feeling that I am so used to.  A feeling that kills me a little more every month.

I try to be happy and focus on other things.  Like our new house – and when I start to think about the new house, I think about the two extra rooms we’re going to have and how one of them might not be a nursery for a long, long time.  So then I try to think about school and all of the academic upgrading I need to do this summer in order to apply for a January start… and I inevitably start trying to add up dates (If I get pregnant in XYZ month, I’ll give birth in ABC month, which means I’ll have to take semester 1/2/3/4 off).  I think about taking my driving test (what if the stress causes me not to get pregnant.. again), exercising and eating right (how will this effect me getting pregnant?), camping this summer (is it OK to go camping?), and even hanging out with friends (how can I avoid drinking without raising suspicion that I’m already carrying?).  It is literally consuming my every thought and it’s making me crazy.  And tired.

I want to stomp my feet, cry, and stay in bed.  I’m just so beyond sad today.  I don’t want to shower.  I don’t want to talk on the phone.  At the same time, I just want to be numb.  Watch pointless movies and get out of my head.

I am writing this blog because it helps in some way.  I can really analyze how I am feeling and let my emotions be raw and true.  I don’t express myself very well verbally, it’s so much easier for me to write.  With writing down just how completely mournful I am feeling, it makes it that much easier for me to communicate with Cody later. 

I’m using “mournful” instead of “sad” because that’s really how I’m feeling.  It’s more than sad. It’s dramatic – but I’m sitting in my PJ’s, hair a mess, a half eaten bagel beside me on a plate in the bed, crying.  This is what “drama” is.  I do feel like I’m mourning.  I thought this was my month.  I was feeling different – better than previous cycles.  I just really, truly believed it was my turn.  Over the past couple of days, it changed.  I got my period symptoms, I feel empty (and somehow still bloated.  Go figure.), and like I said earlier – the same as I’ve always been feeling when one cycle ends and another begins.  My potential pregnancy was snatched away from me.



Sucker for Punishment

No, not physically.  I’m not passing out or anything.

I’m weak emotionally.  I have no will power.

I am so hopeful that this is going to be the month that I get my positive test!  I read my blog to Cody so he could really understand how I was feeling.  I told myself it was ok to really, truly believe this was finally going to happen.

And then I got the gut rot.

Gut rot – I am not really sure what it is, exactly – is one of those symptoms that is unique to getting my period.  I usually get it about 10 days after my trigger shot, and then my period makes an appearance.  I thought I might be in the clear this month, and then I started getting that all too familiar burning feeling in my belly.  It made me want to cry.

Instead, I convinced myself that it was the salami I ate.  Or the glass of pop I drank.  So I took a Gas-X tablet (ugh, I am so embarrassed that I even own Gas-X tabs) and waited.  It’s official:  the gut rot is not food related.

And if that wasn’t enough to make me just stop and move on with the rest of my day, 2 minutes into my hour break from work and I’m Googling “gut rot and pregnancy”.  And, sadly, was slightly relieved to see that so many women knew what gut rot was, experienced gut rot, and even were pregnant with this symptom.

I’m so weak.  Why do I do this to myself?  I am so entirely desperate to find some small form of “proof” that my period just isn’t going to come this month.  It’s sad.



Proceed With Caution

Since cycle 1, I’ve been guarding myself during the 2WW.  I don’t look symptoms up online; I don’t look at baby things on Pinterest; I don’t really let myself get excited about the possibility of being pregnant since the negative result ends up hurting that much more.

This cycle I’ve been pretty miserable.  Well, not really miserable but feeling kind of crappy.  I’ve been completely exhausted.  I have random heartburn (I think it’s heartburn?  I don’t know – might be acid reflux?  I really don’t know what the difference is or if it’s what I’m experiencing.  But it’s annoying.).  I wake up during the night, have weird dreams.  I’ve had wicked headaches for the last 3 days.  I have period cramps.  I had some of these symptoms during the last couple of cycles, so I have been attributing all of this to my upcoming visit from Auntie F.

Until today.

I went to have my progesterone tested today.  No biggie.  My favourite nurse asked me how I was feeling, if I was bloated or anything.  I told her I was and extremely tired.  She told me that it was because of the progesterone and that I was in fact “still under the influence of the drugs”.  

That’s right – she didn’t say anything to give me any particular boost of optimism.  She didn’t tell me that she thought I was pregnant or that this was going to be my month.  All she did was tell me that everything I was feeling was common with taking the progesterone.  

Let’s review, though.

Fatigue:  common with pregnancy, PMS, and progesterone.  

Heartburn:  common with pregnancy, PMS, and progesterone.  

Cramping:  common with pregnancy, PMS, and progesterone.  


How the fuck am I supposed to analyze anything when it’s all the same symptom but each with a potentially different cause?  Annoying.

Back on track here.  

I hate to admit it, but the little piece of sunshine that Elena gave to me before my torture test has stuck with me too.  She told me that sometimes the test gets things moving and clear and there’s an “unexpected” pregnancy result.  I told myself not too get too excited about that slim possibility.  Somehow though, I’ve thought about it endlessly and convinced myself that it just might be the thing to help.

I’ve also been doing a lot of praying.  I’m not really a religious person – but I’m spiritual.  I have talked to God a lot these last few days, and even tried bargaining, which I am not particularly proud of.  It went something like this:  “Father, I promise that if this is the month I get pregnant, I will immediately stop eating all fast food.  With the exception of Subway.”.  

Yes, I have some hope this cycle.  I am terrified of it because I remember how bad it was finding out that the first try didn’t work.  And while it’s been devastating each time since, it was getting a little easier to deal with.  I’m so scared that I’ve gotten myself so excited and optimistic that the possible fall is going to suck.

Don’t get me wrong – hope, faith, optimism … they’re all great things to have, especially in a fertility struggle/journey.  I just haven’t let my guard down in a long time, so I’m worried about the outcome.

But hey – once again, this could be the month that my dream comes true!  Maybe I’ll be sharing my birthday with my first born.


One week down.  One to go.



I feel sleepy! Oh, so sleepy!

I’m exhausted today.  There’s really no reason for it.  I mean, I work from home, get up when I want to, and go to bed early.  However, this afternoon I was curled up in bed and napped for 2 hours.  I think that’s technically a “sleep” – not a nap.  I had a break for an hour, and since my bed is in my office, I almost went for another nap.  I stayed strong and watched an episode of American Dad instead.

When I arose from my slumber, I decided to check out why I’d be so tired.  I remember being sleepy-ish in my previous cycles, but this is bordering narcolepsy.  Without jumping to the “OMG!  I MUST be pregnant!” outcome, I’ve discovered that it is likely due to the increase in progesterone.  Not only could my body be producing more at this moment, but I’m also on the suppositories again, which is making my levels likely very elevated.  I want this – I need this, so I’m going to go with it.  If the levels are where they are supposed to be, well then good on me and good on science for coming up with these hormone supplements.

I don’t really have much more to say.  No one to rant about; no weird attitudes coming to surface.  Just a tired girl wanting to go to bed early.

I’m sure there will be more in a few days.


Have good sleep, friends!



Be Careful With What You Research

I had the hysteroscopy today.

I worked myself up pretty bad.  I needed to take an Advil P.M. in order to be able to sleep.  1., because I knew I was going to think about it all night and 2., because I banged up my leg pretty bad and I knew it was going to bother me*.

I slept, but I wasn’t rested when I woke up.  The drive seemed to take forever and I was getting more nervous by the second which made me more irritated by the millisecond

When I got to the office, everyone was so nice.  Well, they’re always really nice – but they seemed to be extra nice today.  Dr. C was at the front desk and she told me not to be nervous and that it would only really hurt if there was a tube blocked.  Ok, that seemed alright.  Then I had my blood drawn and Elena knew I was freaked out so she told me that, yeah it’s not pleasant, but it’s fast.  Um… ok, well I can handle it.  She then told me that sometimes people get pregnant after the test because it cleans everything out and gets things moving.  That made me feel better even though it feels like that might be a reach.  Still nice, though.

I was lead back to the room and Lena was back!  I was so happy to see her – she’s been gone for 5 or 6 weeks and the other technicians we not nearly as friendly as Lena – and they always had problems finding my left ovary, which causes the exam to be even more uncomfortable than it needs to be.

Anyway, we did the regular ultrasound first.  Then Ella came into the room with the tools that were going to be used during the hysteroscopy.  I started to look at them, but got freaked out and turned my head back.  We chatted about the battle wounds on my leg and then the doctor came in.  Show time.

I don’t think I’ll get into too many details since this test would yield different results for each person.  If you googled or searched for experiences with regards to the test and it lead you here, just know I did the same thing and it wasn’t like what anything I read from anyone else.  All I am saying is that you might be expecting something that you might not get.

Anyway, the “scrub” was awkward.  It’s just iodine, I believe.  Then the catheter was in, which was uncomfortable at best but not anything I didn’t think I could handle.  I thought that this was the “painful” part people were talking about and thought that the rest was going to be a cake walk.  Not…so…much.  The doctor started to tell me that this next part was going to be a little painful for about 60 seconds since they were inflating the balloon.  She was telling me this as they were inflating the balloon so I didn’t get to prepare myself.  I jumped and moved my legs – since this is your body’s natural reflex to pain.  Everything cramped, I told them that I’d informed my husband that I wouldn’t make it through labour and this procedure was confirmation.  They laughed – at least I still had a sense of humor about it all.  The water through my right tube was annoying, but not too bad.  Like I said earlier, lefty is always a pain during exams and this test was no exception.  They had to “agitate the liquid” in order to be able to see the left tube, and when it was through, I was never so happy.  All foreign objects were removed from my body, I was cleaned up, and got to lay back and relax for 5 minutes.

The test wasn’t really what I had anticipated.  I didn’t think there would be as many people in the room as there were.  The balloon inflation was a lot more painful that I had expected. The water was much less painful than I thought it would be.  I wish I hadn’t researched the test to death because I really wasn’t prepared for any of it, the thoughts of what it was going to be didn’t assist me in any way.

It’s been 8 hours, and with the exception of some fairly noticeable cramps in the first hour or so, I’m feeling pretty good.  There’s the odd twinge here and there, but it’s not what I would call “painful”.  There’s still expulsion of antiseptic and I’m spotting, but I’m feeling a lot better than what I had prepared for… which is a good thing!

We met with the doctor and she told us that my tubes were great and the test was perfect.  Awesome sauce!  She also told me I’d probably never have to do the test again, so I crossed my fingers and said “From your lips to God’s ears” in my head.

I’m trekking it back to the clinic tomorrow.  Apparently I have a large egg and it might be time to ovulate, already.  It’s a short cycle this month, which is not an issue according to the good doctor.

I’m hoping Miss Elena is right and that all I needed, in the words of my husband, was a “Uterus Irrigation”.

with a smile,


*If you want to read more about the random mention of the banged up knee, please feel free to check out my other blog:  Dumping My Diabetes.  Or click here.