The Beat Goes On

Do you recognize that song?  I was born in the wrong era.

Tuesday:  Remember that friend I was telling you about the other day?  I went back and checked her original message to me and guess what?  There was no greeting.  No “Hi”, “How are you?”, not even a “Wazzzzzzup!”  Thanks for that, pal.  Later that night, I received a Facebook message from her, which was actually very nice.  Still, I could not bring myself to reply to her.  This is such a regular occurrence with her, I just can’t be bothered to let it slide anymore.

Wednesday:  The next day, my bestie, Miranda (Corrine’s sister) messaged my husband.  She explained that Corrine was really sorry for upsetting me.  There was a long exchange, and Cody didn’t even want to tell me about it.  When he did, I held my ground.  There is no reason for her to act the way that she did.  I was upset, but I went about my day.   I cried a bit, but nothing terrible.  Cody and I snuggled and went to bed early.

Thursday:  Clinic day.  I have one follicle and we’ve changed the protocol from doing an IUI this month to timed intercourse.  I’m annoyed, but what can I do.  If the doctor doesn’t see the point of doing an IUI with only one follicle, who am I to argue?  Onward and upward.  Or so I thought….

I signed into Facebook and got slapped in the face with a birth announcement from Cody’s cousin.  Back when I was pregnant and subsequently miscarried, two of Cody’s cousins were pregnant as well.  However, one of the cousins made an announcement to Cody’s sisters and parents that she thought “this one would die” – apparently there were complications and rather than say it tactfully, or even with a little worry, this is the way she worded her sadness that the pregnancy was fragile.  I never asked about it after that since I seem to be having a really hard time with baby stuff these days.  Anyway, I sign into Facebook and here’s Kathy announcing that she has had a beautiful baby girl!  So there I am, stunned because I really didn’t even know that the pregnancy progressed.

And it was that exact moment I deleted Facebook.

The other cousin should be birthing her child later this week.

I proceed to go to work and I tried to talk to my other boss, Phillippa, about my frustrations.  She and I are fairly close and she’s a mom, so I thought she would understand…. I was wrong. I explained to her that I was frustrated and may have made the mistake of saying something like “I’m over it” and she took this to mean I was going to quit my job. I re-explained to her that I was just tired and frustrated and overwhelmed. I then got a lecture about how she was working, cleaning, cooking, and working more when she was my age. So I replied with “Well, maybe you’re just a better person than I am.” This did not go over well, and I don’t suggest you doing it. In the end, it was “explained” to me that maybe God sees I can’t handle what I already have on my plate and maybe I that’s why I don’t have kids.

And that was the exact moment I quit my job.  Just kidding.

Friday:   I’m talking to my other boss, The Queen Bee, about life.  I’m explaining to her how I’m feeling about pregnancies and babies and my feelings of inadequacy.  She gives me some good advice and then I go home.  Cody and I are rushing to make it into the house to eat and then leave for a group thing, and BAM!  I walk up the steps and the biggest, most beautiful bouquet of flowers is sitting on my porch.

They’re from Corrine and Miranda.

And it was that exact moment that I realized I’m letting infertility win.

I read the card and started to cry.  I felt like a jerk for ignoring all of Corrine’s attempts to contact me.  She really was trying to make things right, and I was not going to let her.  I felt like a jerk because I was essentially doing what she did to me – I was disregarding her anxiety because I felt like my own was more important.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret telling her how I felt or even for getting upset that she told me the way she did.  I regret the way I acted from that point forward.  I really, really hate feeling like I’ve hurt someone.  She miscarried too.  She was scared and needing to talk to me, but I was too caught up in my own personal drama to realize that.

I wrote them both a really long email that night.  I told them I loved the flowers, and then I went into a very detailed explanation about why I’ve been distant.  I told them about all of the treatments, the miscarriages, the anxiety, the fear.  Their responses were amazing.


” I knew to some extent how much time, effort and even $$ you guys were putting into it, but I had no idea how much emotionally you were struggling.”

“I actually will never think of you as “fragile” because someone who’s fragile would have given up on being a mom a long time ago. I think you’re brave and strong. You’re brave because you’re doing these things to your body just to have a family. You’re strong because you haven’t let these obstacles get in the way of your dreams.”

“I want you to feel like you can talk to me at any time about this, TMI or not, you’re my best friend forever, Details make it easier for me to empathize and really know your struggles and maybe would even help me check in with you more often just to make sure you’re still doing OK despite all the treatments.”


” I knew that you were having a rough time but I had no idea how much treatments were hurting you as much has helping you.”

“I don’t know what your plans are with the treatments, but I hope that you think about how you’re feeling before you make any decisions on it.”

“I wanted to apologize again for not saying hi to you before I just spilled my guts I think I just had alot on my mind, and I didn’t think to ask you what was on yours. I was not trying to be a shitty friend but I was. I wanted to Thank you for helping me through my hard times as well, I think that’s why I just spilled my guts, you are easy to talk to about this.”


I have noticed that I’m always focused on how people are hurting my feelings, but haven’t stopped to think that maybe I’ve been hurting theirs as well.  That’s not very nice, now is it?! I don’t think I’m wrong for finally worrying about myself. If a “friend” isn’t really acting like your friend, you should tell them. Just like they should be able to tell you if you’re upsetting them. If you can’t be honest with them, are they a true friend anyway?

I am so glad that Miranda, Corrine, and myself are still good. It meant a lot to me that they were willing to listen and finally learn what Cody and I have really been going through. It meant a even more to me that Corrine was willing and able to see that she’d hurt me. It meant the most that both of them cared enough to try and make things better.

Miranda and Corrine:  If by some weird chance you’re reading this:  I love you both.  I’m sorry that infertility has made me self centered and given me tunnel vision.  I appreciate and need your support, but I know that I need to be there for the two of you as well.  You’ll never know how much I love the two of you!  I know we’ll be BFF’s 4life 😉


The Switch Has Been Flipped

There’s no going back now..

Something has happened to me.  Infertility may have made me into a mean, bitter person.  OR – I’m finally taking care of myself and listening to my own feelings. 

I woke up too early on my day off to go to training I wasn’t being paid for.  Why?  Well, this might help me get a better job one day.  So I’m sitting there, blow drying my hair when I get a text message:

“Hey.  Today is my due date.  Hard to believe 9 months has gone by.  Don’t tell anyone, but I’m pregnant again.  My first ultrasound is on Thursday.”

To be honest, I don’t even know if there was a greeting at all in the message.  Either way, I was shocked and irritated.  As it turns out, I was just telling Cody last night that I was sure this friend was pregnant and that I would be super annoyed if I found out via Facebook or some other cold delivery method. 

I’m part psychic.

I really thought this friend would be just a little more considerate.  I’ve opened up to her countless times about my struggle.  She and I miscarried within a couple of weeks of each other.  Our due dates were a month apart.  After she told me about her miscarriage and I told her about mine, it became the Corinne show.  I rarely got a “How are you?” – instead it was her whining and complaining about how she hated people announcing their pregnancies and/or baby pictures on Facebook and anything baby related hurt her to the core.  So after I replied to her with a one word text of “Congrats”, I really didn’t expect this:

“Thanks.  We’re keeping it a secret this time.  My cousin Chris told me his girlfriend is pregnant too.  They’re 8 weeks.”

And why do I give a f*** about your cousin??? 

I replied back to her that I was happy for her and really hope it worked out, but I’d experienced another loss (my chemical pregnancy) and hearing about her news, let alone anyone else’s news, was too much for me and I really didn’t care to hear it. 

I don’t know why I did it, but I texted Corinne’s sister (who happens to be my best friend).  I complained that Corinne is selfish and inconsiderate.  It was a pretty long message and I apologized a million times for venting to her about her sister of all people.  My bestie was amazing, but it turned out she didn’t even know Corinne is pregnant.


I wish I could say that this is the first time I’ve opted to distance myself from a friend due to infertility madness.  I declined a baby shower invitation and didn’t even feel (too) bad about it.  I didn’t give a reason, but if I am ever asked why I wasn’t there, I’ll tell them that I couldn’t put myself through it.  The day of the shower, I didn’t even try to pretend I wasn’t home in case someone drove by to check.  I just don’t care.

Cody’s cousin is set to have her baby sometime soon.  I don’t know the due date, I don’t know when the shower is, I don’t know anything about the pregnancy… and I’m just fine with it. 

I don’t like this side of me – I really don’t.  I don’t like being jealous and envious, but I am who I am.  Infertility has stripped me of so much, and apparently the ability to be happy for others might be one of those things.

I don’t know if I can change it.  And if I am honest, I don’t know if I want to. 




Opposites Attract

My husband and I are opposites in a lot of ways.  He had a very calm upbringing, mine was tumultuous and scarring.  He is an eternal optimist, I am pessimistic in every way.  Cody has a brain built for math and science, while I excel in languages and social issues.  Cody is an idealist, I am a realist.  However, this is one thing that keeps our relationship going strong because when one of us is down, the other is able to pick the other one up.

Not going to brag, but I kinda really love my relationship.

Anyway, Cody and I are opposite in our movie choices as well.  My husband loves super hero movies, while I am a lover of supernatural movies.  Cody CANNOT STAND scary movies.  Unfortunately for him, he’s had to endure quite a few creepy movies in order to make me happy.  One of those movies was Paranormal Activity*.  Which brings me to a conversation with the husband last night….


Beanie:  “Toby keeps staring out the door.  He’s so freaked out!  What’s in the hall?”

Cody:     “I.  Don’t.  Know!”

Beanie:  “Take Toby and go into the hall.  He’ll show you what he’s looking at.”

Cody (reluctantly carrying our scared cat):
“I’m just telling you now, if he hisses and growls, I’m leaving this house tonight.”

Beanie (also now in the hall):
“Wait. What is that noise? Do you hear it?”

Cody:      “Yes. It’s like a growling.”


We scrambled back into our room, where I continued to ask Cody what he thought the noise was.


Cody:       “I don’t know. I’m just going to turn on this fan and ignore it like they SHOULD have done in Paranormal Activity.”


Weirdly enough, Cody loves Hallowe’en!



*I only like Paranormal Activity 1-3.  After that, they lose me.

Merci, Mes Amis

People, thank you so much for sticking by me.  I know my posts have been downers lately, and for that, I apologize.  I’m really sorry – but my emotions are extreme, this journey sucks, and my blog is 100% honest.

I received a comment on My Brain Hurts and smiled then cried.  I literally just burst into tears.  All I could think was “She understands!  She doesn’t think I’m horrible for not wanting/doing IVF!”.  Thank you, to my new fellow fertility-challenged friend.

Ladies, I mentioned it a few days ago.  I really feel like there is a lot of judgement passed when it comes to reading each others journeys.  And while I like to say I don’t care, the reality is that I don’t want anyone to ever think I’m not doing all I can to get my babies.  I really, really am doing everything within my power to achieve this.  The thing is, I have limits and they’re getting close.  I am only human and I can only do so much.

Anyway, I want to lighten the mood a little here.  Here are a couple of my thoughts at the moment:

  • I need to look at finding another clinic.
  • I need to research acupuncture.  Ugh… I am sure that’s gonna hurt.  Maybe they can help me lose weight too?  Or maybe that’s hypnotherapy, not acupuncture.  Why do I always think of Reiki when I think of acupuncture?
  • Toby is adorable.  I don’t think I could survive without him most days.  He is currently laying in a patch of sun, on his back.  Also, his tail is strangely long.  It’s literally the same length as his body.
  • I need to get that bunny from the pet store.  How can I get Cody on board?  We currently own a rabbit and she’s old.  But I think she could benefit from a little bunny friend.  As long as we get him neutered before they become too close.
  • Bath.  I need a bath.
  • And sleep.  I need sleep.


Thanks again, people.  What would I do without you all?



(I wish it was acceptable for a Canadian to say “y’all”.  It sounds so much better than “you all”.)

My Brain Hurts

Since 4:45AM this morning, I’ve repeated the words “I don’t know how much more I can take” to anyone who’d listen.

Cody woke me up.  Scratch that – my mind woke me up at 3:50AM.  Toby, the kitten, decided to keep me company until 4:45AM when Cody’s alarm went off.  Cody rolled over and said good morning and I told him I’d been up for an hour.  I explained that I wasn’t feeling good and I was pissed off because I had no choice but to go to the clinic since it is CD3.  Cody made the mistake of saying “Peep, I know mornings are rough…” and I went off.

Because it’s not just the mornings.  It’s the blood work, the ultrasounds, the medications, the drives to the clinic, the negative pregnancy tests, the faint positive tests, the miscarriage, the fake happiness.  EVERYTHING.  It’s literally everything.

I keep asking God to give me some guidance, but I hear nothing.  I need to know if I’m on the right path.  I believe I am supposed to be a Mama.  However, I don’t know if that’s the plan.  Is there a plan?  I don’t even know anymore!  I’m confused, and frustrated, and lacking some faith.  You’d think He’d just pop in and tell me to chill out or something…. but nope.  Silence.

I made it to the clinic.  Manuela looked like she was going to cry when she saw us.  Ella made the mistake of starting a conversation about life – I jumped on the opportunity and told her I was reaching my limit with all of this. I also informed her that I would not be doing IVF.  Ever.  So if this was it, then this is it.  Lena did my ultrasound and she was very sad for us too.  For some reason, everyone seemed to be extra sympathetic today and I’m not sure why.  We got to see Dr. R. and of course, he drops the bomb.  The three letter word bomb:  IVF.  He said that he thinks this should be the last round of IUI and then move on to IVF.  I looked at him and told him that IVF is not something we’re even willing to consider.  At that point, there are just other options for us.

Go ahead, judge me.  Make the assumption that since I’m not willing to move on to IVF then I must not want to be a Mama that bad.  I have a few choice words for those who’d like to pass those thoughts on to me.

What I don’t understand is why IVF.  In the past, I was told that I wouldn’t ever need IVF since I respond “so well” to injectables and have “proven fertility”.  So WHY is this being suggested to me?  Is it the size of my file?  Is it because they think I’m frustrated (I am) and I should want to move faster?  Should want to get more aggressive?  I don’t understand.  I GOT PREGNANT TWICE WITH IUI.  Why would I ever need IVF?????????

I don’t understand this doctor.  This clinic.  This process.  This life.  My faith.  The whole mother f-ing nine yards.  I don’t understand anything………………….

I walked out of the office going backwards.  I’m not doing injectables, however I’m still going to have an IUI in a couple of weeks.  I know we need IUI, I just am not sure we need the injectables or anything aggressive.  But my medical degree came from a Cracker Jack box and I haven’t practiced medicine in a while – so there’s the possibility that I’m wrong.  Wait, maybe I should consult with a real doctor – Dr. Google!


Please tell me this will be funny one day.




Post #101

I never thought that I’d have so much to say!  Or that my journey would last so long.  Or be so frustrating.  But here I am, writing blog post number 101.


I wanted to thank you all for the thoughts, prayers, kind messages, and good vibes you sent for my little twin boy patients.  I saw them today with their Dad.  Unfortunately, Dad is having a increase in his meds now, and I can only hope this is temporary.  When asked how Danny is doing, Dad confirmed that he was on a couple of medications now and they seem to be working better for him.  Danny and his brother (who are seriously two of the cutest kids I’ve ever seen) were quiet and a little shy, but otherwise seemed happy to be running errands with Dad.  Danny even gave a hello while the two of them peaked over the Pharmacy gate at my boss and I.

I am hoping and praying that everything continues to improve for this family.  They definitely deserve all the happiness in the world!



Dumpster Diving

Here’s a list of things I’m sick of:

1. Inconsiderate friends/family.

Both can be a bit much, but I’m on this new kick where I try and give them the benefit of the doubt when possible. This mostly translates into me being a lot more forgiving with stupid comments than I was before. However, there are still a few gems in my life who make me want to throat punch them. Ok, that’s mean and totally uncalled for and we all know I wouldn’t ever do that. BUT! I am so tired of opening up to people about this journey Cody and I are on and then getting a slap in the face about it.

Recent Example: Our pregnant friend who suddenly cannot see/acknowledge/care about anyone but herself. I’ve mentioned to her that we’re “infertile”. I’ve told her about the medications. I’ve told her about miscarrying Bumble. I told her TODAY about my chemical pregnancy. What was her response? A fake frowny face and a comment to “keep doing what you’re doing!”. Uh… huh?

2. Ugly crying.

Since January 2013, I’ve had 14 failed cycles and two which “technically” have worked. In those 14 cycles, I’ve taken a minimum of 2 pregnancy tests to make sure the reading was correct. In December 2013, I got pregnant and took 5 pregnancy tests, however ended up miscarrying. In June 2014, I had a negative test and 3 positive tests, however it ended in a chemical pregnancy. So I’ve had 37 tests (minimum) and only negative results in some way or another. I’ve also taken medication for all 14 cycles which have turned me into a crazy lady and made me argue with my husband 2-3 times in one cycle. All of those numbers = a lot of ugly crying.

Recent Example: I tested this month and it was, obviously, negative. I waited until Cody came home before I had my fit. I wailed and blubbered like a baby and in the end only ended up with having to wash my sheets because I got mascara all over them. Ugly crying is messy.

3. Timed Intercourse vs IUI vs IVF.. Or “Infertiles Against Infertiles”

In our infertility blogging world, I am finding that there is an undertone that “my struggle” is harder than “your struggle”.  As a person “only” doing IUI and likely only ever doing IUI, I have sometimes felt like those going through IVF feel like their procedure is harder than mine, therefore I should feel lucky not to have a struggle so hard.  This not only annoys me, but it makes me sad.

A person trying to get pregnant could be just as upset when 3, 4, 10 months goes by and they are not successful.  A person doing timed intercourse is just as devastated with a negative pregnancy test as I am.  Injectables suck regardless of the procedure you’re doing, and that friggen transvaginal ultrasound is a bitch, no matter who you are.  We’re all struggling, people.  Infertility is infertility, regardless of what particular protocol you might be on.

I’m not going to give a recent example since I’d never publicly call anyone out on their thoughtless comments.  Let’s just say – when I come across these people, I stop following their blog.

4. Predictive Text/Autocorrect

Honestly… there’s either something wrong with my phone, or me.  I clearly am too focused on some things.

“Be….” – first word to populate is “beta”, second option is “better”

“Con…” – first word to populate is “conceive”, second option is “control”

“Pr…” – first word to populate is “pregnancy”, second option is “progesterone”

“Mi…” – first word to populate is “miscarriage”, second option is “might”

Come on, phone. Give me a break!

 5. Transvaginal Ultrasounds and Shaving

Enough said.  Lena sees my bits more often than my husband.  This is not ok.

6. Early Mornings

To go to the clinic, I am up by 4:45AM, usually after going to bed after 10PM and barely sleeping (I am always nervous to go to the clinic… always).  I rush home to try and catch an hour of sleep before work.  I come home and try to cat nap before Cody gets home.  Then around 10, I’m back in bed.  I just want a full night of 9 hours of sleep or more!

7. Needles in the Stomach

Insulin.  Bravelle. Ovidrel.  All of them end up in the stomach.  None of them compare to PIO shots or the Rhogam shot which go in the ass… but we’re comparing two different beasts at that point.

8. Google

Google always pleases the hypochondriac in me.  If I think I’m dying, I can find proof online that I am.  If I think my weird, obscure symptom might be related to pregnancy, Google finds someone who can confirm it definitely means I’m knocked up.  I hate Google.


I had more, but I started this two days ago after discovering that this month was, again, a bust.  I’ve since calmed down a bit and don’t hate life as much as I did a couple of days ago.  …Except that I’m currently in a spat with Cody and am only finishing this post at 12:00AM because I don’t want to talk to him…. so I guess I hate life differently right now.


Onward and upward, apparently.  Can’t go much lower.



Oh, Canada!

We are big and beautiful.  Our currency is as bright and fun as the people carrying it.  We’ve left our mark all over the world and then decided to do it again – in Mars!  We love hockey and lacrosse.  We eat weird and wonderful foods – coming to Canada and not trying poutine would be like going to Chicago and not getting a deep dish pizza.  We’ve invented some amazing things (insulin {which I am especially grateful}, the snowmobile, prosthetic hands, and cardiac pacemaker), some tasty things (ketchup chips, crispy crunch, and coffee crisp), and even some weird/funny things (Wonderbra, five-pin bowling, Superman, and the goalie mask)

In 1984, I was born into this wonderful country.  Since the moment of my first breath I’ve been fiercely patriotic with a deep, undying love for my country.  There isn’t another place I could ever call home, and I’m so proud to say that.

Happy birthday, Canada!