Still trying, still failing

Chris and I have been trying to get pregnant for over a year now. Well, ok precisely a year now. Obviously, this anniversary means that we haven't been able to accomplish our goal yet. Just found out a friend from our church is pregnant. I'm so excited for her, yet just for a second there, when we heard the news, my heart broke a little. I couldn't help it. I'm so very happy for them!! I just wish I didn't have that minuscule pang of jealously. I know that God is in charge and it's His will and not mine that controls my life. It's so hard sometimes for me though - hard to "let it go" and hard to have faith. One day, I hope I can post here that I am expecting - until then... *sigh*

Here is a letter I found, written by one of the TTCer's on CafeMom.com Made me feel a little better.



To the women that have been trying to conceive for months and years...you are the strongest women in the world!!

DH and I have only been trying a few months and it is so hard. Drink my glass of wine to get my body to relax, force my husband to have sex because it is time (normally you cant get your husband off you, now you are "forcing"), then you have sex and put your butt up in the air (which would normally make you feel like a damn fool, drink a cup of green tea (cause that is what you heard helps the process somehow). Rub a lucky rabbits foot and wait........and wait......every time you get nausea you think "maybe, just maybe it worked this time", everytime you feel more tired then normal, everytime your boobs are more sensitive then normal....everytime......and wait.

All you do is hope and pray, lets not forget the total opposite reaction, the one where you start calling yourself a fool because you don't want to go through it again. Get your hopes up, ("But I feel different, can I be pregnant?") You tell yourself that it wasn't the right time, you didn't keep your ass up long enough, maybe your temp dropped....and wait.

Your husband doesn't understand, he only hopes you are pregnant so he can enjoy sex again. He doesn't realize the agony that you live for weeks, the tears that stream down your face as you look at the 100th test telling you (not-pregnant). You are terrified to have to go through it all over again.

And yet you do. Do you have any idea, I mean really, the strength to go through that? Over and over again?? You are amazing women!

So I send out a prayer to all you Mama's to be!!!! May God bless you with the babies that you have worked so hard to conceive.

Just remember that when your kid is 14 and screams at you "you probably wish I was never born" you have a thick book of notes and ovulation dates and your temperature and hand it to them saying......"You are all I ever wanted!!"

I'm still here

For a few hours there, I had some doubts, but alas, here I am.

Wednesday, lunchtime:
Chris and I are hanging out after eating. I drop a napkin, bend to pick it up, and fall to my knees bent over screaming. I'm in so much pain... I can't think! Lower abdomen, hell - my WHOLE abdomen - cramped up so horribly I couldn't un-bend. It was so over-whelming that Chris had to keep telling me to breathe. I couldn't focus enough to breathe. After about 10 minutes (100 hours at least, I swear) he manages to get me back up on the couch. I'm crying, screaming, can't move, can't stop moving. I'm thinking "I'm dying... this is it - it's got to be. You can't hurt this much and not be dying." Finally after maybe 1/2 an hour, it's getting better, I can almost stand up halfway. He helps me to bed, but I can't lay down. Finally, I'm down, on my side, crying still. Josh is there, he's freaking out because he doesn't understand what's wrong with mommy. Chris calls work and stays home with Josh so I can rest.

Wednesday, dinnertime:
It's been a few hours, I'm feeling better. A little. I don't want Chris to know how much it actually hurts, so I keep saying "No, hunny, it's just a pulled muscle, I'm sure. No, I'm not going to the hospital for a pulled muscle. He finally puts his foot down when I about fall over again, trying to stand up. We grab Josh and head to the ER. We sign in, get me in a wheel-chair and are planted in the waiting room.

Wednesday, almost midnight:
Josh has never made me more proud of him. 4 hours in the waiting room and he's not made anyone insane. Such a good boy. We are finally in an ER room, doctors are testing me. I get an IV - electrolytes and pain-killer (can't remember the name of the stuff, but OMG it was some crazy sh**) Pap-smear, two different ultrasounds, and a CT scan later - they tell us that I have a ruptured ovarian cyst and am bleeding internally. Going to have to do surgery. Chris takes Josh to the day-care lady's house. He's still awake and being very good, but he's tired and worried and bored.

Thursday, 5:00 am:
The on-call OB/GYN is here, prepping me for laprascopic surgery. My first surgery ever, period. I'm terrified, but I don't want Chris to know. He looks so solid, so strong, and I want to be too. The last thing I remember is a voice saying "breathe deep" and the doctor saying "I'm right here, don't worry, you're going to be alright now"

Thursday 9:00 am:
We are leaving the hospital. When I woke up from the surgery, Chris was there. I was there. I honestly didn't expect to be there. The nurses explained everything and ran a few more tests. Told me that the Doctor fixed me up, didn't have to take my ovary, and the bleeding cyst was gone and the rupture cauterized. We get into the car (God it still hurts like crazy!!) and we get half-way home. I make Chris pull over at the gas station so I can throw-up (luckily I didn't) and then we go to see Josh since it's his day to go back to his dad's. He comes out to the car, but he won't hug me, just looks at me all worried. "I'm ok, baby, Mommy's alright now, just hurting a little is all" I tell him... he doesn't listen, just walks back to the house with his head down.

Thursday, dinnertime:
I weigh more than 10 pounds more than I did when I went to the hospital 24 hours earlier. I have band-aids on my belly button and the most brilliant bruise on my arm from the IV. It's a miracle I'm alive, yet all I can think of is my bruises, bloating, and scars.