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There is a guy that I pass during my walk to work on most mornings.  He sweeps the sidewalk outside one of the buildings.  All of the trash that ends up there, all of the cigarette butts, and all of the dirt and dust, he sweeps it up.  I am sure that you are thinking, such a shitty job, right?  You would think that this guy was just hating on life because he sees people pass him every day wearing nice suits, carrying their $4 lattes, and hustling to get to their high-profile & high-paying jobs.  The crazy thing is that he isn't unhappy or at least he isn't letting on that he is unhappy.  With a bounce in his step, he sweeps up all of the garbage, and while he is doing this he is smiling and whistling.  The whistling, which is quite pleasant to hear, is magnified as it echos off of the tall buildings in the vicinity.  As you walk by, he'll tip his head to you as if to say good morning or buck-up, friend.  It is impossible to walk by him and not have your mood elevated...just a little.

This guy clearly has much less than me, at least in the physical sense, and yet he still has a smile on his face every day.  I am sure that I make several times more money than he does, live in a nicer house, drive a nicer car, eat better food, go on nicer vacations, and just generally have a much "cushier" existence.  Am I happier?  No.  I'm not.  In fact, I am 100% positive that I am much angrier, resentful, judgmental, hateful, anxious, and ungrateful for everything that I have than he is with what he has.

On my walk to work today, with angry tears in my eyes, I decided that this has to stop.  I cannot continue living my life with such a bad attitude.  I am ruining my relationship with my husband, with my family, with my friends, and with my co-workers.  The smallest little things send me into a tailspin of anger.  For example, yesterday was what I would consider a "very bad weather day".  There were extremely high winds, snow, and cold temperatures, which are no fun in general.

Me- Already in a bad mood just watching the weather forecast.  

Add on the fact that we have been having this type of weather for 4-5 months at this point.  Add the fact that I was up all night with a crying baby.  Add the fact that I had to get up at 4:40 AM.  Add the fact that I hate all of my clothes because they outline the fact that my stomach still looks like I have a small baby bump.  Add the fact that my train was delayed more than 30 minutes, leaving me to stand on the platform, freezing.  Add the fact that they still collected full fare on the late train even though it was packed so full and there were no seats.  Add the fact that when I got to SBUX to get my coffee, there was a long line because I was so late...

Me- Get to work in an extremely bad mood which sets the tone for the rest of my day and how it would go.

Add on the fact that a co-worker decided to take it upon himself to have a conversation with my boss (on my behalf) because of a conversation we had where I had been flipping out about an email that she had sent and she was subsequently upset with me.  Add on the fact that when I got home I had to clean my house, which was a mess after being out of town the previous week and my husband had not so much as attempted to clean, because we were having a Realtor over.  Add the fact that I snapped at my husband about said lack of cleaning.  Add the fact that I was annoyed that I didn't have time to exercise.  Add the fact that I didn't get to eat dinner until 8:30 PM and didn't get to shower until 9 PM.  Add the fact that as soon as my head hit the pillow, an hour later than normal, the baby woke up screaming and only wanting mommy.

Me- Go to bed angry.     

You get where I am going with this, right?  Basically, everything that happened yesterday was one big fat ball of angry.  Nothing was good.  Everything sucked.  Wah, wah, wah.  Poor me.  This super-negative mentality has been feeding into every single part of my life lately.  As I was laying there trying to fall asleep last night, I was dwelling on the bad, the sad, and the ugly.  I didn't even think about any of the good that came out of yesterday:  Even though the train was standing room only, I ended up with a seat when someone got off at the next stop.  I finished a large task at work, presented it to my boss, and thoroughly impressed her.  I found out that a place right near my work has excellent coffee.  The baby fell asleep, peacefully, right at 6:45 PM.  The Realtor's first impressions of our house were extremely positive and she actually said that we had made a great investment.    

I am not sure if the key to creating a more positive outlook on life is to figure out what the cause of the anger is so that I can resolve it or if its is to forget about figuring out why (and therefore making excuses) and just focus on how you can improve your attitude.  I have thought about going back to a therapist because it was nice to have a sounding board for my problems.  The therapist was someone that had to listen to me bitch about my husband, my family, my job, my friends, my life, etc.  A captive audience.  The thing is, I know that I have a bad attitude and I don't necessarily want to indulge myself in hour long sessions of spilling my guts to a stranger about what I am annoyed with and/or angry about on any given day.  I am getting incredibly annoyed with myself (if that is even possible).

I want to start making a concerted effort to become more positive.  I want to be a positive force for my son.  I want to be a more positive presence for my husband.  I want to be more positive influence on my friends and family.  Even more important though, I want to be positive for myself.  I have one life.  This is it.  You know what?  It is a good one.  I am so lucky to have so much and to be so blessed.  So many people in this world would give anything to have my "problems" and sources of anger.  I have turned into a bitching, moaning, self-entitled, brat (for lack of a better word) and it has got to stop.  STOP.  RIGHT.  HERE.  RIGHT.  NOW.

We all have bad days and sometimes things don't go the way that we planned them out in our heads.  Such is life.  It is what we make of it.  We can choose to wake up each day with a scowl or a smile on our face.  We can focus on the negative or the positive.  It is up to us.

That whistling building maintenance man doesn't know it, but he very may well have have changed my life...for the better.

Today is sunny.  It isn't as cold and it isn't as windy.  My train was slightly delayed, but in the scheme of things, who cares?  I still got to work, safely.  Today is going to be a good day.
 

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The past few weeks have been quite crazy for me.  You can always tell when my life gets hectic in that the frequency of my posts takes a complete nosedive.  Here is a little update as to why I have been more quite than normal lately.

A few weeks back I think I mentioned that one of my sisters found a lump in her breast and had to have a biopsy.  She also got back results from a PAP that pointed out potentially cancerous cells.  She had a biopsy on her breast lump and it turned out to be benign (YAY!).  She ended up having a LEEP done on her cervix and has to now go back for monitoring every 6 months.  That same sister, poor thing, has had such a rough go of it lately that you would think that the universe would give her a break.  Not so much.  WTF, universe?!

She called me early last week and mentioned that she was having some numbness under her right rib cage.  That had turned into her whole right leg going numb and a feeling of weakness when she walked around.  She was concerned so she went to the doctor and they given her an MRI of her spine.  She didn't have the results back yet, but she seemed really worried and told me to pray for her.

Last Friday she called me in a panic and told me that they had found a "growth" on her spine and needed her to go directly to the ER.  She was pretty scared.  They told her that they were not sure whether she had an infection, a virus, cancer, or worse, but that she needed steroids right away to reduce the inflammation of the "growth" so that she would not have permanent nerve damage and loss of feeling on her right side.

In somewhat of an organized panic, I made plans along with two of my other sisters to rescue our sister who was in serious need of some sisterly support.  What we found out when we got there was quite different than what we had imagined.  There was my younger sister, laid up in a hospital bed on the neurology floor with old ladies dying of complications from Alzheimer's and dementia. She just didn't seem to belong there because she was young and healthy.  It was sad and depressing.  She looked so bewildered, but also relieved to see us.

She explained to us that she had another MRI of her brain the previous night because they were trying to figure out what she had by ruling out what she didn't have.  Apparently the "growth" on her spine was actually a lesion and a condition called Transverse Myelitis.  They had also found two more lesions on her brain during the brain scan.  She calmly, but shakily explained to us that the most probable diagnosis was the auto-immune disease called Multiple Sclerosis and that this was probably an "MS" attack.

In that moment, my heart sunk to the floor.  Why her?  She had already been through quite a few other health related issues in the past few months.  How unfair.  She is young, eats healthy, and exercises.  She is getting married in a few months to a great guy who we all love like a brother, already.  She should be into serious wedding/honeymoon planning mode.  So incredibly awful.

In the day that my sisters and I were there, we got to hear from doctors and nurses regarding her condition.  Some were more pessimistic than optimistic and vice-versa.  Regardless of her diagnosis, it was determined that she would have to stay in the hospital for several days due to the IV steroids that she was receiving which, luckily, were helping to bring the feeling back to her leg.  She also had to have a lumbar puncture (or "spinal tap") to rule out all other possible diagnoses, but would not receive those results for at least a week.

I wish that I could have stayed with her longer, but I am glad that my husband was able to watch the baby so that I could go and give her some support when she really needed it.  So now we just wait for a more "official" diagnosis.  For now, my sister is feeling tired and frustrated, but at least she is home and continuing to recover from whatever she may have (or have had).

Me being the person that I am did some research on MS and I learned quite a few things about it.  I figured that it was a death sentence and a condition that, at the least, would lead a person to not be able to use their limbs, eventually.  What I found was that that is simply not true.  The National MS Society has a ton of great information and in my 15 minutes of reading on their site, I learned quite a bit.

I am still hopeful that maybe this was a one time thing and that the conclusive medical results will NOT point to MS.  If it turns out that it is, I am sure that my sister will be ok.  She is a very strong girl.  She may have to change a few things up, but she'll be fine.  I know it.

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Not sure if it is the short days, the frigid temps, the snow upon ice upon snow, the cabin fever, or the imminently possible return of AF, but this girl has a serious case of the winter blues and blahs.  It all came to a head this past weekend when I completely lost my cool over a bag of frozen peaches.  Yes.  Frozen.  Peaches.

Before you shake your head at me in disgust, let me just explain that the small bag of (organic) frozen peaches cost $2.99 and was for B's breakfast.  We have been having a terrible time getting him used to eating anything besides purees so my plan was to microwave the peaches, cut them into small bites, and have him eat them while I ate my own (non-organic) peaches.  I took the bag out of the freezer, tore off one corner, and then dumped a few slices into a bowl.  It was then when I realized that the bag had a huge tear on the other side and the quality of the product had definitely been compromised.  My blood pressure started rising and I could feel the building pressure of stress in my temples.  This wasn't going to be one of my proudest moments.

In a fury I ran into the living room and explained the situation to my husband, making sure to throw in a few choice curse words to describe Whole Foods, in the process.  My poor baby just kind of stared at me while I let my top blow.

"What the f*ck!?" I exclaimed.  "Can you believe that this expensive bag of peaches had a hole in it?  Should I throw it away or return it?"  I knew full well that neither response from him was going to be acceptable.  My poor husband was set up for failure from the beginning on this one.

"You should probably return it," he said calmly.

"They aren't going to let me return the bag when it is open on both sides!  When am I going to find the time to return it anyway?   Oh and where the hell is my freaking receipt?"  I was now almost in tears over these stupid peaches.  I threw my arms in the air and told him I was just going throw them away.  He told me to relax, which only fueled my angry frozen peach driven rage, and I made my way back into the kitchen and promptly threw the whole bag at the wall and the frozen peaches scattered about the sink, the counter, and the floor.

I collapsed onto the floor and started crying.  Big, angry, tears fell from my face.  "I need to go on a vacation," I cried.  "I need to get out of this house and away from everything for a week.  I really need a break."

"You don't need a vacation," my husband replied.

"Yes, yes, I do," I continued to sob as I started cleaning up pieces of peaches.  So what really sparked this major meltdown?  Was it really the peaches?  No.  It was the co-worker who I have talked about in many a previous post.  The one asked me if I was pregnant when I had just miscarried.  The one who got pregnant on the first try after smoking and drinking heavily her whole adult life.  The one didn't tell me that she was pregnant until she was over half-way through with her pregnancy even though I confided in her about my struggles.  The one who works for fun because her husband makes triple my husband's salary.  The one who goes on 4-5 tropical/European vacations a year.  The one with the (seemingly) perfect life.  Yes, that's her.  She caused my meltdown and she doesn't even know it.

Last week, she posted to our work vacation calendar that she is going to Turks and Caicos, the place that we were supposed to go but had to cancel due to an impending miscarriage.  She mentioned to me in passing that they will be staying at the Seven Stars Resort, the place where we were supposed to stay (but lost over $4000 because my 3rd baby was going to die).  She posted on FB about how she was so excited for her vacation and was busy getting her perfect baby (who sleeps 11 hours straight a night, by the way) a passport.  I heard her explaining to another co-worker about how they were paying for her MIL to come and watch the baby while they went and had fun.  Thinking of all of the beautiful pictures that she would soon paste on her FB wall was just to much for me to handle.  Thinking of my family and me.  Stuck at home.  Trapped in the house by the snow and snowstorm after snowstorm.  Doing the same stuff over and over again with no fun vacation or even a break in sight.

I promptly did what I should have done many months ago...

I unfriended her (along with 150 other "friends").  There.  I showed her (and the rest of "them").  

It felt good for a few minutes, but then the sadness and anger crept back in again because even though I no longer have to look at her blatant show of fun and wealth, I know that it is still happening.  They'll be snorkeling while I am sitting at my desk typing and slaving over my next project.  They'll be walking barefoot on the beach while I am trudging to and from the train in feet of snow, slush and ice.  They'll be out enjoying dinner and cocktails together while I am eating dinner by myself in front of the TV while my husband is at CrossFit for 2 1/2 hours.

The jealousy has crept back in.  Ugly and ruthless, as ever.  In my SADD (or potentially PMS) state, the pangs of jealousy that used to be saved exclusively for pregnant people are now back in full force and they are threatening to wreck my sanity once again.  The treadmill that I used to run on for fun an hour a day, I now step on at 4:40 AM every day and don't get off until I lay my head down for 3 hours of sleep starting at 9 PM.  Something has got to change.  I haven't figured out what I need to change, how I am going to change it, or when I am going to start, but I know that I cannot keep this up for the foreseeable future.  I won't make it and my poor family will disown me.  Until then.  Deep breathes.  In and out.    

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This past weekend, my husband and I decided to try the whole going out to dinner thing again.  We bathed the little guy early, I nursed him right before we left, and we drove 40 minutes to our destination.  To our delight, he was passed out when we made our entrance into the busy restaurant.  We were both worried that baby B might ruin our our dinner out like he did last time.  The good news is that he didn't ruin our night.  The bad news is that I did.

The beginning of dinner was ok.  We were both starving so we ordered quite a bit of food.  So much that it actually made the waitress ask us if we were sure we wanted so much.  I had not eaten very much all day and neither had my husband.  Over micro-brewed beers, my husband and I talked about, what else, the baby.  We talked about the baby until we ran out of new things to talk about regarding the baby.  Then we just kind of sat there looking around.  We always had stuff to talk about.  Ugh.  All I could think about was that were were those people that I saw in a restaurant that sat there and didn't talk.  I always felt bad for those people.  We had gotten into a fight earlier in the week about working out, schedules, and who does more for the baby.  We had agreed to talk about it when we go on our little family trip next weekend.  I couldn't stand the silence though and HAD to bring it up.

What happened next was truly awful.  First, I brought up how CrossFit is ruining my life (dramatic much?).  My argument was that it has become the sole focus in my husband's life and comes before the baby and me.  I talked about how the rigid class schedule makes for a very hectic Monday and Wednesday for me because I am left taking care of the baby and making dinner alone.  I brought up how I feel like that is all he ever wants to talk about or watch.  I mentioned how I feel like if I don't join CrossFit that it is going to drive us farther and farther apart because I feel left out of the "club".  I whined about how a CrossFitter that just had a baby via c-section 3 weeks ago, after preeclampysia already looked better than I did now, almost 5 months later.  You think I would have felt that I had piled on enough shit there, but I just kept on going.

I ripped my poor husband apart for nearly 25 minutes on the guise of being angry about CrossFit, when in fact it had nothing to do with CrossFit at all.  It was just the easiest subject to get at and my husband was a sitting duck.  My husband would try to talk and I'd cut him off with a smart @$$ comment about CrossFit.  It got to the point where my husband was asking me if I was trying to get him to divorce me, but I couldn't stop myself from dredging up every minute thing that had bothered me about our relationship for the past 5 months.  In my head, I knew I should stop, but my mouth just kept on going.  It got so bad that the waitress was afraid to come over to our table.  She kind of threw the check on the table and sprinted off.  We weren't shouting, but we were so deep in conversation and both on the verge of tears.

The few words that I let my husband counter with hurt, but they were mostly true.  He asked me if I understood that I hadn't put him first in years.  Since we started trying for a baby, basically.  He was right.  The baby race had been my first priority for some time.  He told me that I used to have such a positive outlook on life and now pretty much saw the glass half empty.  He highlighted that I am never happy and always jealous of others.  He brought up how he had gone from being a generally unhealthy person, to now a very healthy person.  Then he said this, that really affected me, "We have the perfect family and so many people would love to be in our shoes.  We have a nice house, nice cars, good jobs, good health, and beautiful baby boy".  He was so right.  I knew it.  What the hell was wrong with me?

My husband paid the check and we were getting ready to leave when an older lady tapped me on the shoulder.  I was paranoid that she was going to say something about our conversation, when all she wanted to do was congratulate us on how beautiful and perfect our sleeping baby was.  I thanked her and almost burst into tears.  My husband and I couldn't get out of there fast enough after that.

The car ride home was quiet until my husband asked me where we should go from here.  I didn't know what to say.  He told me he would quit CrossFit if it would turn things around for me and make me happier and he didn't say it in a sarcastic manner.  He was serious.  It was at this point that I finally burst into tears.

I told him that I didn't want him to quit CrossFit and, as much as I knock it, I know how much he loves it and how good he is at it.  He places in regional competitions.  How could I tell him to give that up?  Between sobs I finally spit out what the problem really was.  It wasn't CrossFit at all.  It was me.  My self-esteem has taken a nose dive in the past few years.  I went from a super healthy, in-shape, perfect makeup, perfect hair, happy-in-my-own-life marathoner to an unhappy, out of shape, unkempt, jealous, mother.  I never have time to do my hair or makeup anymore.  I don't even have time to iron, my clothes before work.  Every second of my day is filled with some type of activity.  I never have any time to spend on myself.  My baby is growing and thriving and I am falling apart.  In the back of my head, I am worried that my husband will leave me for a young CrossFitter that is more attractive, is in better shape, and would talk about WODs, burpees, and wall balls until the cows come home.  I make up these scenarios of my husband leaving me because I don't feel good enough anymore.  

There, I said it.  This is so hard for me to admit, but I think that I naively thought that having a baby, alone, would make me happy and make my life complete and it didn't.  In fact, it has made me pretty much the worst version of myself and have never felt so unattractive or unlovable.  Please don't get me wrong, I love being a mother and I love my son to death.  I would die for him without so much as a second thought.  I let myself go for so long because my sole focus was on baby, baby, baby.  Now that he is here, I am left with the ruins of that process and it isn't pretty.  My body and mind have both taken a beating.  It took me 2 years to do this to myself, so how do I expect that it will take less than 5 months to undo the damage and be my 2010 self?

To wrap up this long drawn out story, I will say that I really do have the best husband ever.  As soon as I started crying and explained what was really wrong he also started crying.  He said that earlier in his life, he had made the decision to never get married.  Then he met me, he said, and decided that if there was anyone in the world that he could be with the rest of his life, it was me.  He felt so bad that I thought he could ever leave me for anyone else.  No.  Matter.  What.  Period.  He held my hand as he said it and squeezed it tight.  He said he felt bad that I felt so bad and he wanted me to feel good about myself.  He wanted me to be happy again.  Just hearing him say that  made me feel a little better.

I don't think that my body will ever be the same.  All of the 10 mile runs (yes, I ran 10 miles by myself this past weekend at an 8:44 pace **pats back**) aren't going to make my body what it was before I had the baby.  I really need to accept that.  I don't think that my relationship between my husband and I will ever be the same again.  It will never be just us.  It doesn't mean that it can't be great.  It just has to be different.

I know what I need to do.  I need to be kinder to myself.  I need to recognize that I am not perfect and will always be a work-in-progress.  I need to be happy and thankful for what I have and not continue to focus on what others have and be constantly jealous.  I need to remember that marriage is for better or worse.  I've got lots to work on and am beginning to realize that the only person who is really critical of me is me.

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Several years ago, a friend of mine, R, called me crying one evening when she realized that her daughter (who was several months at the time) had fallen off of her bed and hit her head on the floor.  She had called the doctor and answered a battery of questions whereby they determined that she would most likely be ok, but told her to watch her closely.  I rushed over to give any type of moral support that I could, although at the time, I was really not much help because I didn't have any kids of my own and had never experienced anything like that before.

I listened to my friend tell me that in the split second where she made the decision to go to another room, the baby just rolled right off.  She felt terrible.  She was worried about whether or not her daughter would be ok and was trying to pay close attention for any "out of ordinary" types of behaviors.  You would have think that I would have taken that experience and filed it in the mommy category of my brain for later use, right?  I guess there is only so much room up there for that type of info...

Over the past few weeks, I have not slept much.  B has been teething like crazy and pretty much has not slept at all (naps or nights).  This has caused me to go into a state of survival mode.  I am basically just crawling through each day and praying every morning that this coming night will be the night where he sleeps more than 3 hours, consecutively.  I have huge dark circles under my eyes that no amount of concealer will cover.

Yesterday when I got home from work, B was especially fussy.  It was about 85 degrees and humid in the house and feeding him was pretty miserable so we decided to go around the house and close all the windows so that we could turn on the AC.  After that I propped B up with some pillows in the corner of the couch and proceed to turn on the weather to see if the rest of the week would be so sticky.  B kept sliding down and I kept placing him back in the corner.  I ended up missing the future forecast so I grabbed the remote and proceeded to rewind to play it again.  In the few seconds that I was turned away, my baby managed to roll over at least twice and fell off the couch onto the floor.  I didn't even see him fall off it was that fast.  I just saw him lying on his side on the floor and heard him screaming.

In that moment, I was so shocked at what happened I didn't even cry right then.  I picked him up off the floor and hugged him so close, trying to console him.  He screamed and screamed with huge tears running down his face.  My poor baby.  How could I have been so stupid and careless?  I worked so hard to have him and I could be such an idiot to not be paying attention to him, the love and light of my life.

I first called my husband who let me know he was on his way home from Home Depot.  I tried calling my sister, who was at the gym with the car, but she didn't answer.  Then I called my friend R and asked her if she thought I should bring him to the ER (which would have been by ambulance because I didn't have a car at the moment).  She instructed me to call the pediatrician (who happens to be the same as B's) and answer their questions.

It seemed like an eternity before a nurse called me back.  B had already quit crying, had a massive poopy diaper, and was now giggling like nothing had even happened.  I had already taken him into the dark bathroom and made him follow a flashlight and made sure his eyes were dilating properly, which they were, thankfully.  She asked me the following questions (which may come in handy for you one day if you even have a momentary space cadet moment like me):

Did he cry immediately following the accident?  Yes.  He screamed bloody murder for 10 minutes until he was red in the face with tons of tears.

How high up was the couch?  Two feet or less from the floor.

What is the surface of the floor like?  Where he fell it is partial shaggy rug and partial wood floor.  He didn't make a loud noise when he fell either.

Does he have any visible lumps or red marks on his head?  His head is generally lumpy (like his Dad's haha), but nothing new that I felt.  No red marks on his head that I saw.

Did he vomit?  Not sure.  He spit up all over my dress while I was consoling him, but I am not sure how to tell the difference between vomiting and spitting up.  He had just eaten before he fell and has acid reflux, so this wasn't abnormal for him.

Was he grabbing toys like usual?  Yes.  He was grabbing toys, the spit up cloth, my hair...

What was his routine for the rest of the night?  Bath at 6:30 PM.  Dress, sleep sack, book, nurse.  Bed by 7:15 PM (hopefully).

What times does he usually wake up at night?  12 AM & 3 AM almost always (if not more).

She told me this...  Chances are that he was totally fine.  She said that babies his age are very resilient and that it probably hurt me more mentally than it hurt him physically.  That said, she told me to take him to the ER if I noticed any of the following:

• He seemed sleepier than normal, for example, during his bath if it was hard to keep him awake.
• He seemed fussier than normal.
• He started vomiting.
• We wasn't hungry and wouldn't nurse like normal.

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...ended up being a small disaster.  Basically I screwed up the administration so I don't know if I ended up actually getting any into my body.  I don't think that I did.  The instructions said that if you messed it up to contact your health care provider.  Ummm yeah at 10:30 PM at night?

Before I left my appointment on Tuesday the nurse showed me how and where to inject the insulin.  It looked easy enough, although the whole priming thing had me a little worried.  Last night before I tried injecting myself, I watched a Y.ou T.ube video and read several how-to slide shows.  I thought that I had it down.

My husband wanted to help, so I had him read the booklet that came with the insulin pen and then hold it for me so I could refer to it as a reference while I was attempting the procedure.  I was supposed to pinch an inch of skin in my thigh or side of my stomach for the injection.  Honestly, I don't have a lot of extra skin to pinch.  I have been walking a lot so my thighs are still pretty muscular and my stomach is literally stretched almost as far as it will go.  I decided to squeeze the life out of the top of my thigh to see if that would work because I was not sure where else to inject.

I prepped the pen as described, dialing it to 2 units, expelling, and making sure there were no bubbles.  I did it twice to be sure.  I then followed the instructions and dialed the pen to 7 units, which is my prescribed dose, and wiped my thigh with the alcohol pad.  I was nervous that it was going to hurt so I was kind of hesitant.

With my thigh pinched I stuck in the needle to find that I didn't feel anything at all.  I pressed the top of the pen and let go of the pinch.  The needle came out and the insulin sprayed on my thigh.  I freaked out and asked my husband to read the "I screwed up" part of the instructions.  Like I said before, they told me to call my doctor and not to re-inject.  I was so annoyed that I flipped out at him for no reason and then stormed upstairs.

I went to bed pissed.  I wasted a dose and don't know if I even got any insulin into my system.  This morning my fasting blood sugar was 91, so I am assuming that nothing made it in there or my dose is way too small.  I guess I'll just have to try it again tonight and hope for a better result.  This whole thing is so frustrating I want to scream!!

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So there is no new news regarding my cousin.  They still have no idea why he died.  The only thing that I do know is that we'll be attending a funeral this weekend instead of getting maternity photos taken.  A weekend that was shaping up to be a happy one will now be a very sad one.

To add some more mental exhaustion to the list, I had a regular MFM appointment today.  First I met with the nutritionist.  I was slightly concerned that I was not having enough carbs due to the fact that when I have them, my numbers are bad.  She looked at what I was eating and agreed that I am almost eating no carbs.  She thought I could add a few back in here and there, but not to stress about it because I have a good quality diet.  She seemed a little concerned about my fasting numbers and told me to talk to the doctor about that.

Next, I had a growth ultrasound.  The good news is that the baby looks very healthy.  I have a normal amount of fluid.  The bad news is that the baby is huge.  He is measuring about 35 weeks, or 5lbs 3oz.  He is now in the 83 percentile.  I was seriously crushed when they told me this.  I went from 63 percentile a month and a half ago to the 83 percentile.

Finally, I met with the doctor.  He took a look at my blood sugar readings and decided that, in combination with the size of the baby, he is going to put me on a low dose of nightly insulin.  FAIL.  He said that my readings aren't crazy high, but that they should be in the 70s/80s and mine are normally in the 80s/90s (with a 100 spike every few weeks).  We talked about the size of the baby and he mentioned that I wouldn't go past 40 weeks for sure.  He also mentioned the possibility of 38/39 weeks if the baby continues growing like this. He said that he doesn't like to induce, though because it increases the chance of a c-section and he would like to avoid that.  I am at least grateful that we are on the same page about that.  I really do not want to be induced early and I really, really, really, don't want a c-section.

After the doctor talked to me, I met with the nurse who showed me how to inject insulin.  She also wrote me a prescription for a breast pump and we discussed the pertussis vaccine, again.  I did not realize that it was coupled with the tetanus vaccine that I  had over the summer when I stepped on the rusty nail in the backyard.  The tetanus vaccine makes me quite sick, so I'd like to avoid it if I can.  I have to call the hospital where I had it to confirm that it included whooping cough.

I have to go back in a week for another growth ultrasound to see how fast this guy is really growing.  I am so upset though.  I have been doing EVERYTHING right and still he is getting too big.  I have not deviated once from the diet in almost 2 months except for 1/2 piece of cake at my shower last Saturday and I paid for that by feeling like total crap all night.  I exercise almost every day (yesterday I walked 5 freaking miles).  I only sleep 7 hours so that my fasting blood sugars aren't too high.  I have only gained 22lbs total, 1 lb in the past 2 weeks.  I don't know why he is so big.  The only thing that I can think of is genetics.  My mom had big babies ranging from 7lb 9oz (me) to 10lb 4oz (the youngest) and my husband was over 9 lbs when he was born.  I know that my mom and MIL did not eat this healthy or exercise like I am though.  I also know that they both gained way more weight than I have.

This sounds strange, but I feel like people judge me about the baby being big, like it was something I could control.  Clearly that was not the case here.  I am so tired of the "wow your belly is huge" or "you still have 7 weeks left?" or "big baby in there" comments.  I want to just hibernate for the next few weeks.

After a few weeks of feeling physically and mentally good, I now feel tired, depressed, and angry.

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I am not sure what I have done lately to throw my karma so far off track, but it seems like every day I am screwing something else up and someone new is mad at me.  I always pictured pregnancy as a happy and cheerful time, but lately it has been anything but that.  Now I feel like I am always apologizing for screwing up and I forget stuff all the time.  I am the kind of person who does not need a list.  I remember EVERYTHING in my head.  I think that being responsible and conscientious and two of my good qualities.   I always pay bills on time, I remember birthdays, I email people back quickly, to name a few things.  Lately, I have forgotten to pay the electric bill twice, forgot to call my little brother on his birthday, and offended a friend-of-a-friend by not emailing her back when she took the time to offer me great advice.  So here we go again...

Several months back I got curious and I started creating the shell of a baby registry one night.  I started entering in the basic information including the due date and the sex of the baby.  There was a space for "grandparents".  I started entering with my Mom and step father first and then my MIL and her husband because I knew both of their addresses.  My Dad is deceased and I didn't have my FIL's address because they move very frequently, so I decided that I would go back and enter that later.  While I was in the registry that night, I wanted to check out a jogging stroller that my friend suggested I get, the B.OB R.evolution.  I found one I liked and added it because I didn't want to forget the kind.  At that time, the brands of baby items that are available was not as familiar to me.  Anyways, that is all I did that night.  I expected to go back later on and finish it.  Not many people even knew I was pregnant at that point so I kind of forgot about it.

Many weeks after that, a few nights before I was set to go register with my friend, I attempted to go back into the registry to update it.  Something happened with that account and I could not log in no matter what I tried.  It said my email address did not exist so I couldn't even have them email me my password.  No biggie, I thought.  I'll just have B.abies R U.s either make it usable or delete it and start a new one.

On the day I registered, I explained to the sales rep what I had done and she tried to get into the account and could not.  She told me that she could not even delete it and to create a new one and just tell people not not use the old one that would still show up.  I didn't really think anything of it.  I assumed it would be obvious that the registry with one item was a mistake and that people would move to the other one.

This morning started out great.  My fasting BS was 87, my 1 hour after breakfast was 100.  I took my dog for a walk around the block while my husband took out the trash.  He was giving me a ride to work so I had a little more time.  When I got back, I could sense something was wrong because he ignored me when I talked to him.  I asked him what the problem was and he slammed down his cell phone in front of me.  On the screen was a message from my FIL's wife (who my husband does not like, AT ALL).  Saying that she got the shower invitation from my sister (my husband did not want to invite her at all, I said we should and had my sister's send her one) and when they went to look at the registry, they saw that my FIL was not listed as a grandparent.  She said that my FIL was really upset by this and cried because he didn't understand why we left him out and he didn't think that we loved him as much as our other parents.

Knowing that it was all a misunderstanding, I calmly explained the situation to my husband.  Not sure why, but he didn't seem to believe me.  He said he was really upset by the situation.  This is when I snapped.  I pretty much flew off the handle, asking yelling how he could question me in a situation like this and think that I might have done this on purpose.  He said that rather than feeling bad about it, I felt wronged and that I should call his Dad and apologize.  I asked if he could call and explain to his Dad since I don't have a close relationship with him.  He didn't think this was a good idea.  The hits and low blows at me just kept on coming and I really couldn't take them.  We screamed at each other all the way to work until I started crying.  I'm not sure why I even bother with eye-makeup anymore since I seem to be crying it all off lately.  Then we both were silent.  When we got into the city and parked.  We both silently walked into the coffee shop, I bought us both coffee, then he left without saying anything.

Obviously, I feel terrible about this.  Thinking about my FIL being upset over this makes me feel awful.  It was a complete misunderstanding, complicated by the fact that sometimes technology gets fucked up (and fucks things up).  I had, and still have, no control over this situation.  I feel like my husband should be more on my side rather than quasi-accusing me of being spiteful.  As soon as I got to work, I called and left a voice-mail for his step-mother.  I briefly explained the situation, apologized (even though I didn't do anything), and asked that if she call me back if she wanted to chat.

Well, she called me back.  We chatted.  She rehashed the text message, making me feel guiltier, and explained again why my FIL was so upset.  I obviously understood why he might be upset if he didn't understand the entire situation.  I re-explained the what happened to her and I think she finally got it.  I apologized again and then she handed the phone to my FIL and I apologized to him, too.  I sensed that my 70 year old FIL might not have completely understood or believed me, but then again I rarely talk to him on the phone, so I may have been reading into it.  This ridiculous baby registry fiasco has already consumed my entire morning.

So now the most tension is between my husband and I.  No emails or phone calls from him.  Our baby-moon starts tomorrow and right now we hate each other.  Lots of people are telling me to stop stressing and to take it easy, but how can I when stuff like this keeps happening and I am left holding the bag each time?  Failure of any type is not something I handle well (if you haven't already noticed).

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Today was one of those mornings that I would like to request a do-over or wish that I would have stayed in bed to avoid completely.  I'll give a little background first before I start, yet another, depressing post.

I got my test results back from my 3 hour GTT yesterday.  The results were rather inconclusive.  The nurse who wrote the letter stated that, in their MFM practice, one failed test is borderline and not a flat out GD diagnosis.  She said that I barely passed the second screen (and my 3 hour was just weird) so that I should think about self-testing.

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***Warning- this is kind of long and kind of an uncomfortable topic***

I made the decision to "come out" about my pregnancy to my group therapy leader after my first ultrasound at 5 1/2 weeks.  I thought about quitting the group completely, but then I remembered how much I had paid for it and how much of a benefit that I saw after just a few weeks of going.  I sent her an email and explained to her that I was not ready to tell anyone else yet.  She agreed to keep it between us, but she encouraged me to let her tell the others (group policy) as soon as I felt comfortable.

In the group, we have had a steady stream of bad news over the past few weeks.  Learning of one girl's issue with MFI, another girl's chemical pregnancy and being told by a doctor that she was in for a "marathon and not a sprint", and yet another girls issue with bad eggs, made me not want to divulge my information. 

Not feeling comfortable enough to share with the group kind of bothered me though because I signed up for the group and fully disclosed that my issue was not with getting pregnant necessarily, but with staying pregnant (also considered by doctors as "infertility").  Some of the girls had issue with the fact that I was not doing IVF and mentioned to me that they were jealous that I was ever able to get pregnant even though I miscarried habitually.  I am the only one in the group who is not currently undergoing IVF or waiting on the bench to start (one other girl just finished her last IUI and is now moving to IVF).  This always made me feel slightly awkward.

Another thing that bothered me was the whole "buddy assignment".  I was paired up with a buddy who lives the closest to me, which was basically no one, so they set me up with someone who lives near my work.  She is a very nice person, don't get me wrong, but we have absolutely nothing in common other than the desire to have a baby.  She is 10 years older than me.  She was recently married.  She is being denied infertility coverage because of her age and her FSH level.  She is possibly looking into egg donation.  I am totally jealous of other girls in the group who have formed close friendships with their buddies.  They even have get-togethers with their husbands.  We are supposed to call or visit our buddies weekly outside of the group.  I have made attempts to contact my buddy through email and have even tried to get together (I got sick).  She hasn't even made an effort to email me other than in response to one of my emails.  I haven't even talked to her in the past 2-3 weeks because I basically gave up.  What's the point?

I attended a session about a week and a half ago and I found myself lying when people asked me about where I was in my treatment.  I told everyone that asked that we were taking a break and left it at that.  Basically, after I found out that I was pregnant, I started to get less and less out of the group because I stopped sharing.  I even skipped last week's session.  After finally getting a pregnancy announcement from one of the girls last Thursday, I decided to let the leader spill it to everyone.  I was nervous, but done with the hiding.

Last night we had a session where husbands were encouraged to attend.  I dragged my husband there.  He wanted to go to Crossfit, but agreed that he would go, for me.  The guys had their own session while we had a Q&A session with the founder of the program.  Immediately upon walking into the room, I noticed a different attitude towards me from the girls.  No one said hi.  No one made eye contact with me.  Everyone was kind of whispering.  It was like I was the uncool kid in first grade that no one wanted to associate with.  I felt totally uncomfortable and probably should have just left then.

I brought some food/paper products as one of those assigned to bring food for the evening.  As I was arranging stuff in bowls, one of the girls (who I actually find to be the most genuine and nice) touched my shoulder and whispered, "Congrats.  I am so happy for you."  I thanked her and told her how nervous I was about everything and she said she totally understood.  I felt a little better after that.

The session itself was ok although I felt weird because no one would talk to me before the conversation started.  I tried making jokes and small talk and no one would even slightly entertain me.  Most of the questions were centered around egg donation and insurance coverage, which I am not that interested in.  We talked very little about adoption, which I am interested in.  I really wanted to ask a question about RPL, but could not get a word in edgewise.  Several of the girls monopolized the entire conversation.  I didn't even end up opening my mouth.  I think I was the only one who didn't.

After the speaker left, and before the guys came back, the group leader started talking.  I had to pee really bad so I made a quiet exit.  I was only gone for 3-4 minutes at most.  When I got back the entire conversation had changed somehow to "elephants in the room" and people "dealing" with those that were newly pregnant.  Ironically enough, this conversation started when I left the room and coming into it after it was started made me feel really awkward.  The other pregnant girl in the room started talking about her experiences with being newly pregnant and her buddy quickly chimed in saying that she was so happy for her and that it gave her so much hope.  Other girls also chimed in and said how happy they were for her.  After all, she went through 4 rounds of IVF, I did not.  I guess losing 3 babies in a year isn't a big deal to most of those girls since I could get pregnant.  No one mentioned me.  No one acknowledged that I was also pregnant.  I almost felt like I wasn't even there.  This conversation seemed to go on forever.  At one point I decided I had enough and was going to say something to stop all of the tension, but then the guys paraded back in and that was the end of that. 

My husband came in and immediately sensed my tension level.  He asked if I was ok and I nodded.  We still had an hour of the session left.  The group leader mentioned that we finished early so she was going to let us all out ahead of schedule.  I was jumping for joy inside.  Then at the last minute she decided to do a group relaxation exercise.  I felt the wind knocked out of me.  I don't think I have ever been so tense during a relaxation, EVER.  I just kept thinking about how badly I wanted to leave.

After the relaxation she said we were free to mingle with everyone else or we could head off.  I gathered up my bowls and tried to pawn off the rest of the leftover food, but everyone ignored me.  Seriously.  My husband helped me pick up and then I told him I was ready to go.  He said goodbye to several guys and they responded back.  I said goodbye and no one even turned around.  Everyone was busy chatting.  Everyone but me.

I need more time to process everything before I can write about how this all really made me feel.  I know that infertility is hard.  I have been dealing with it for a while now.  Seeing others get pregnant is hard and it fucking sucks because it is them and not you.  I hate it.  I fucking get it.  I have watched my friend get pregnant with their second child when I can't even seem to have one.  At least show a little compassion for me knowing that getting pregnant isn't my hardest battle and tell me that it is hard to hear about yet another pregnancy, but acknowledging my struggle.  Acknowledge that I am here.  Acknowledge that the hardest part for me lies just ahead.  Give me a little support since that is what the group is supposed to be about.

Needless to say, I will NOT be returning to that group. 

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**Before reading this please keep in mind that I have a bad attitude today and this post is going to contain lots of bitching, moaning, & complaining.  If you are having a fabulous and sunny day you may want to skip this one.**

All of these protocols that I am following are supposed to get me pregnant, keep me pregnant, and make my well-being a little bit better.  Pretty much seems to me like all of this "stuff" that I am doing and all of this money that I am throwing away paying isn't helping me out one bit.  I honestly feel as miserable as ever.

I am 9dpo and 99% certain that I am out for this cycle, yet again.  My temp isn't going up and I have ZERO symptoms.  No sore boobs, no twinges, no headaches, no constipation, no bloating, no gas, NOTHING.  The only thing that I do have is wicked PMS.  I am in a wretched mood and I feel for anyone who has to deal with me today.  I even yelled at my poor dog today because he was walking too slowly. 

This afternoon I have a 1-on-1 session with the psychologist, an hour wait, then my group therapy session.  I have zero interest in going tonight to either event and have wished several times this morning that I had not signed up for the thing in the first place.

I feel completely disgusted with myself right now.  I can't run and am now in terrible shape.  I feel fat and gross.  I have zero concentration at work or any desire to actually work on my career at this point in time.  I am not doing the relaxation exercises that I have been given because I just don't feel like doing them.  I honestly don't feel like I am doing anything well right now.  I really do feel like I am failing in all areas of my life.  I am more depressed than I was after finding out that my last pregnancy was a failure.  All I do is complain and bitch and mope around.  This is just not me.

Last night my husband and I had sex and instead of enjoying myself and being with him, I was thinking about how gross and unattractive I felt the whole time.  He is in the most amazing shape of his life right now (doing CrossFit) and I am in the worst shape.  He goes to the gym and out for runs while I sit and sulk on the couch.  How the fuck is this going to help me get pregnant??   

I called my RE this morning and left a rather frantic message about things not working out and wanting some guidance.  I bet you can guess that they have not called me back.  Who knows if they will.  Some days I think that I am going to switch doctors and then some days I say "what's the freaking point".  Still, other days I say I am just quitting all of this and trying things out on my own again.  The medical profession continually fails me, so why am I paying them all of this money?

I have a feeling that I am going to have a meltdown today in the psychologist office.  Stay tuned...

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**WARNING- LONG POST AHEAD**

The weekend was going so well, too... 

On Sunday, my husband and I decided to hit the beach early since the forecast called for showers in the afternoon.  The sun was shining and it was quite warm, but there was a great breeze off the water.  I was set up with the latest edition of Glamour (don't judge) and my husband with his Kind.le, just relaxing by the water's edge.  Then I had to open my big mouth and that is where things started to go bad.

Earlier that day, I had decided that I was going to work remotely today so that I could leave a little earlier for tonight's group therapy session.  While I was sitting there peacefully reading my magazine, I remembered that I had rescheduled acupuncture for today at 11:30 AM.  I had already rescheduled this appointment several times and while I was sitting there thinking, it occurred to me that I might be doing too much at this point in time and that it might be time to cut something out.  After all, the point of acupuncture or the therapy group is not to cause more stress, but to alleviate it.  I said (out loud) that I might put acupuncture on hold for a while until my therapy group was completed.  My husband shook his head and uttered the words "you are crazy" with a sarcastic chuckle. 

It was at this point that things started to take a turn for the worst.  Hearing those 3 words put me into a tailspin and I started running my mouth.  We argued about my many (and varying) infertility related endeavors that I have undertaken recently and how they were or were not helping.  Ultimately, the fight ensued because I wanted his support of my temporary cancellation of acupuncture and he gave me the exact opposite response that I was looking for.  He thought I should go because, like many of my other ventures, I started something and did not seen it through to the end.  How could I know that it was helping me or not, he argued.  I hated to admit that he was right. 

At one point in the conversation when I was talking, I noticed he was looking past me.  I turned around to see a woman walking toward us with her humongous breasts literally falling out of her bathing suit.  I lost it and made a comment that since we were having a serious conversation I'd appreciate if he would not stare at that woman's boobs and pay attention to me when I was talking.  I guess that was the straw that broke the camel's back.  He promptly put down his Kind.le and said he was taking a walk so I could cool off.

While he was gone I thought about things.  I thought about how much I have changed in the past year and how miserable and unrecognizable I was to even myself.  By the time he got back I had cooled off enough to start the conversation again.  I apologized for acting crazy and told him that I really didn't like myself right now and so I would understand if he didn't like me either.  As I heard the words come out of my mouth, the honest truth, I started crying.  There I was sobbing in the middle of the crowded beach with who knows how many people staring at me.  What a train wreck.  I couldn't help it.  The tears just kept coming.  I told him having a baby is the ONLY thing that I think about and I would love to stop and just start living my life like I had before.  I told him that I wished we could go back a year when TTC was exciting and new.  I told him I missed running and that I wanted my life back. 

Somehow we approached the topic of next steps with everything because I was was basically dumping my brain of all of the TTC clutter amidst the tears.  I told him that I worried what we would do if the Femara didn't work.  He said he worried that my anxiety about next steps was fueled by the fact that he didn't want to do IVF.  He said he thought that this was what I wanted now, if he would comply.

The truth is, I do worry that if these less invasive treatment methods don't work that we will be that unhappy childless couple.  Do I personally want to do IVF?  No.  I really don't want to put myself through the medications, the shots, the countless blood draws, the ultrasounds, and the doctor's appointments.  If the doctor told me that was our last resort would I do it?  Maybe.  I don't know.  How long will we go on like this though?  How long can I stay on Femara?  Will we try IUI (I don't think he is 100% opposed to that)?  Will we just go off all meds, cross our fingers, and hope for the best?  I mentioned to him that these are the thoughts that are constantly running circles in my brain.

We ended up agreeing to see at least one more Femara cycle (with monitoring from my RE).  After that we are most likely going to take a break from the meds for at least 1 or 2 cycles.  We also agreed that much of our stress is due to the fact that we have not taken a vacation together since Europe last April (before all the TTC madness started).  We decided to be irresponsible (because we still can be) and take Friday off work and head to Florida for a nice little unplanned getaway.  True, I will be missing one of my group therapy sessions, a day of work when I am so busy, and the girls night out with the "band-aid" friend, but I think that we both need this (ok, you got me, I am not sad about missing the girls night).  Just the two of us. 

So now I just have to get through this week.  I decided to come in to work today and attend my acupuncture appointment.  My husband was right, I think I do need to continue this at least for a little while longer.  I think I just got down last month when I thought about the $225 spent on acupuncture treatments that did not end up getting me pregnant.  I am so thankful for my husband, though.  Even though we have arguments that sometimes get rather ugly, we always talk them out and move forward. 

More deep breaths... 

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I caved and tested this morning.  I wasn't feeling pregnant, but I am just sick of not knowing one way or another.  As I expected, an unquestionable BFN.  Even though I have been expecting this for this cycle due to the fact that I was so sick right around O, it doesn't make it hurt any less.  We did have sex 8 days in a row right around my fertile period.  If I could, I would scream and cry and pound my fists on the floor.  I can't do that though because I don't want my husband to think I am a total psycho.  Instead, I am going to just pretend like it's not that big of a deal and start planning next month around my stupid cycle.

Last night we went to our local fireworks with our dog.  We were literally the only 30 something couple there without children.  I pointed this out to my husband and he proceeded to ask me if I could go one day without bringing up this type of depressing comment.  I pointed out that I didn't make a depressing comment yesterday.  Not the kind of fight I want to get into.

We were supposed to go to a BBQ at a friend's house today, but now I don't feel like going.  One of my friends that got pregnant by accident might be there and I definitely am in no mood to face her and her new perfect baby today.  Instead, I am going to first go to the gym and kick my own ass there.  Next, I am going to take out my aggression on a paint brush and paint my dining room.  Then maybe I'll go to Home Goods and buy some shelves.  Fun times.

I thought this medicine that I was taking was supposed to help me get pregnant.  It seems like it is only hurting me.  I never had trouble getting pregnant before, only had trouble sustaining the pregnancy.  Now I am having trouble getting pregnant.  What gives?  If this next cycle isn't successful, I might just go off the meds completely and contend with my long cycle.  I have totally painted a rain cloud over this day.  Happy 4th of July.

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I am dedicating this post to my wonderful husband of almost 4 years (6/28 is our anniversary!).  This morning I had trouble getting myself out the door on time to make my train.  Maybe it was because it was a Monday or maybe it is because it was sunny when I left for work, but I knew it was going to rain later so I had to cram my rainjacket into my bag that was already busting at the seams.  I was very flustered and dropping things left and right as I got into the car. 

Halfway to the train station I realized that I had forgotten my umbrella and I have to walk 1 mile and a quarter to my acupunctue appointment after work.  I threw a hysterical fit, in the midst of which I banged my hand and started bleeding.  Fabulous. 

When we got to the train station I was in such a furious rage that I quickly kissed my husband goodbye, got out, and slammed the door.  Normally I linger a little longer and kiss my doggie, too.  I was so annoyed with everything.  Then a 9 month preggo woman had to stand right next to me at the train station and just stood there rubbing her belly.  Kill me, please.  Oh and the kicker was that my train was 10 minutes late.  That just added fuel to the fire.

About 11 AM, I got a call from my husband who said he was outside my work with something for me.  Now he doesn't work close to me but ocassionally travels to visit different locations.  At this point it was pouring rain and all I had was my lousy Totes emergency mini-umbrella that is also partially broken.  I walked out to his car and saw that he had brought me my super-duty GustBuster Umbrella and a chamomile tea.  What a sweetheart even after I was a miserable jerk this morning. 

Through the past year, my husband and I have weathered such an intense storm.  It is amazing that we are going as strong as ever right now.  We have rejoiced together after getting our first BFP and then cried together after finding out that our baby wasn't going to make it.  He has held my hand though test after test and has dealt with my crazy hormonal rollar coaster.  He has taken care of my after surgeries and cooked for me when I didn't have the energy or or desire to eat.  He has encouraged me to take on acupuncture, yoga, therapy, etc.  He never makes me feel like my anger and jealousy towards pregnant women is abnormal.  He now knows all about temperatures and charting, ovulation tests, pregnancy tests, and even fertile CM.  We have wandered together through this maze of repeated loss, trying to look for the end.  We haven't found the end yet, but I am hoping that we are getting close.

I love my husband so much and I am so lucky that I have him.  Sometimes I forget how much he means to me because I get so wrapped up in trying to get pregnant that I forget that he was here first.  We were here first.  I am glad he is so patient with me.  I just hope and pray that on our 50th wedding anniversary we will be sitting around with our children and grandchildren delebrating and all of the sadness of this time will have faded into the background.

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I was pretty sure that I ovulated on Tuesday.  I had the positive opks and a decent amount of CM.  My temps were up on Wednesday so I thought that was a good sign.  Then I took my temperature this morning...

Last night I didn't sleep that great.  It was really hot and even with the central a/c our upstairs never gets as cool as the downstairs.  We had to keep our bedroom door open all night so that we could get better air circulation in there.  Good news for my cats.  They were so excited that our door was open that they both decided that it would be great to sleep with us last night.  One of my cats is rather large (she is like 16 lbs).  Her favorite thing to do it lay on my legs which is not so great ever, but especially not so great when it is so hot.  I woke up about 3 times last night to kick her out.  The last time was about an hour before I was supposed to get up.  Not a great night's rest.

When my alarm went off, like usual, I grabbed my thermometer and stuck it under the left side of my tongue.  The stupid thing beeped in only 2 minutes (it usually takes 3-4), so I knew that was a bad sign.  Lo and behold my temp dipped to 97 freaking degrees.  WTF.  Guess I didn't ovulate.   I got out of bed, so angry.  I rushed through my hair/make-up routine and then went to wake up my husband.  Not sure why I thought it was a good idea to wake him up with the words, "I think this is really bad news".  Basically our 7 days in a row of "baby-making" may have been wasted.  Uggggghhh.

Let me rewind to last night...day 7 in a row of having sex.  Both of us were so tired.  Me from being sick and then having to function like normal and him from working hard at work all day and then working out.  It was also so hot.  I thought it was "insurance" day, so for good measure we got the job done.  I don't think it was very pleasurable for either of us.  He was super hot and I was really uncomfortable.  Not a good combination.  I think we were both relieved that we had accomplished what we wanted to accomplish. 

Back to this morning.  As soon as I got to work I called my doctor and left a frantic message.  Then I called my friend and she let me bitch to her about my body being so messed up (if you are reading this B, thank you).  As soon as I got off the phone with my friend, the nurse from my RE's office called. 

Paraphrased for brevity's sake
Nurse: I just listened to your message.  So you got a positive ovulation test on Tuesday but don't think you ovulated?
Me: Yes.  I got a positive ovulation test and I know that you don't believe in temping, but my temperature is really low today and it always goes up after I ovulate.  Since I was really sick on Tuesday, I think that may have caused me to not ovulate.  Should I come in for a blood test?
Nurse: If you got a positive ovulation test then you ovulated or are ovulating now.  Your temperatures are not going to be reliable if you were so sick because chances are you are still slightly dehydrated.  That might cause your temperature to be low.
Me: So it isn't possible that I got the positive ovulation test/LH surge and didn't actually ovulate?
Nurse: No, it isn't possible.
Me: Can I come in for a blood test to confirm? 
Nurse:  (Goes into a spiel about coming in every day for LH tests and says it is too late for this cycle)  You can come in on cd 21 for a progesterone test and we can confirm ovulation then.  When is your cd 21?
Me: Next Tuesday.
Nurse: Ok then, come in then and we will test you and then you will know for sure.
Me: Should I continue the opks to be sure I haven't ovulated yet?
Nurse: No.  You already got a positive test so you already ovulated or are ovulating now.
Me: What if my blood work on Tuesday shows that I haven't ovulated?
Nurse: (In a tone of complete contempt and annoyance of my apparent lack of ovulatory knowledge)  Well we will talk to Dr. X to see if we need to evaluate/change your treatment.

Fabulous.  Now I feel sooooo much better.  NOT.  I am so incredibly angry and annoyed this morning.  I totally feel like just leaving work and going home to go to sleep.  Oh and I forgot to mention, my husband uttered the words, "I don't think it is ever going to happen" right before I left for work.  Awesome, that's the spirit.  I can be pissed, but he shouldn't be pissed with me.  This day can go to hell.  :(

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I think the only thing that is more annoying than having PMS is being annoyed that I am annoyed about having PMS if that makes any sense.  I 'woke up' sweating and with terrible cramps this morning.  I put the words woke up in quotes because I really never fell asleep last night.  I am in a heinous mood and mostly because I know that my period is about to show up 3-4 days from now.  I am annoyed that I am annoyed because it wasn't my intention to get pregnant this cycle so I am not really sure why I am so upset about not being pregnant.  It was an accident that we had sex during my fertile window so why is this bothering me so much?? 

Honestly, if I hadn't found out yet another person is pregnant it might not be bothering me so much.  I tend to compare myself to others and it really bothers me when I perceive myself as falling behind.  I am getting pregnancy lapped by all of my friends.  They are on their second and I can't even have one.  Yes, I know it is irrational and ridiculous, but this is just how I operate.  I am constantly comparing myself to others: Am I as successful?  Am I as healthy?  Am I as pretty?  Is my house as nice?  Do I have as much money?  All of those things I can control to some extent.  This I can't control no matter how hard I try to convince myself that I can.  I get angrier and angrier each time I fail at this. 

It is times like these that I wish that I had a crystal ball to look into to see where I am 2 years from now.  Maybe I will be stuck right in the same place.  Maybe I will have a child.  Maybe I will have been committed to a mental institution.  It actually kind of scares me to think about the future.  All of the "what ifs" and "maybes" frighten me.

So here I am sitting at my desk.  Ready to snap at anyone that tries to cross me or cry if someone says the wrong thing or asks me what is wrong.  I am not a happy camper today and it shows.  Better to keep your distance.  I hope tomorrow will be a better day for me.  PMS please go away!

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Today I am 8 dpo and I decided that it would be a good idea to take a pregnancy test.  I have a bunch of Wondfo tests that I got in a bundle w/ opks a few months back so I figured that what a better way to use them then when I am only 8 dpo, only had sex on one day out of my fertile period, my temps haven't been great, and have no symptoms.  Nice work on my part.  I'll spare you the suspense and let you know that it is quite negative even though I think that I have twice hallucinated a line and it has only been 10 minutes since I took the test.  Hello crazy.

Where did all this madness start when I have seemingly been doing so well?  I visited a friend this weekend who is just a little over a month away from giving birth to her second child.  She too, has had a rough road and I am so incredibly happy for her that everything in this pregnancy has gone so well.  She has been a tremendous support to me through all of my heartache.  Visiting her made me think that about the fact that I should also be pregnant right now and we should have been sharing stories about being pregnant.  Instead she got to hear me complain about miscarriage and not being pregnant.  These situations are so tough, but I am glad that I went to see her as we had a fabulous time.  I am actually proud of myself because I think I am able to deal with pregnancy situations better and better.

On Sunday, I was quite productive in the morning.  I had succeeded in planting most of my garden when I stepped on a rusty nail with flip-flops on in the backyard.  The nail went right into my foot/heel.  Since I had not had a tetanus shot in over 10 years, I spent most of my Sunday afternoon in the ER waiting for one.  Of course my first concern was, that even at 6 dpo, I could be (a little bit) pregnant so I was concerned about the shot causing issues.  I told the doctor that I could be pregnant and he immediately wanted to know if I wanted him to give me a pregnancy test.  I spilled about my situation, the Femara, miscarriages, etc.  He let me know that his wife used Clomid to conceive their last child and he told me that he never really understood miscarriage and how it was so heartbreaking until they had gone through it.  He offered the test again and I politely refused.  I know that 6 dpo is way too early for a test.  After I got the shot (which they convinced me was safe and routinely given to preggos), he came over and handed me my discharge papers.  He winked and told me that he was crossing his fingers for me.  That was nice.

Last night I had trouble sleeping.  My stomach was bothering me and I started feeling some lower left pelvic pain, sporadically.  I have had this 2 times before.  Once in the cycle following my chemical pregnancy in which I did not end up being pregnant and once 2-3 days before I got my last BFP.  When I woke up this morning I decided that my stomach was bothering me too much so I stayed home.  I got a text from my friend telling me that she is pregnant.  She has had a rougher road than anyone I know and again, I am so incredibly happy for her.  She deserves this more than anyone after all of her heartache and struggles.  I just feel sorry for myself.  Yes, I said it, I feel sorry for myself.  I know it is wrong, but I just feel like I have toiled with this long enough.  I am ready for a baby.  I have done everything possible.  My husband jokes that if this healthy diet/lifestyle that I am living doesn't provide us a better outcome this time, we are going to start smoking crack.  Yeah, he is being sarcastic, but only to a point.  So I'll leave you with a picture of my abysmally negative pregnancy test.  Oh and one more thing, if you want to get pregnant soon, you should become friends with me.  Everyone around me seems to be having good luck getting a BFP.

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