I’ve talked about my troublesome friendships here before. I will first acknowledge that I’m far from perfect myself. I can be very introverted, which means I often have to get over a hump of sorts in order to socialize. But when I get over that hump, I’m all in.

I never expect to be anyone’s top priority, but I am the kind of person that does need a bit of validation every once in a while that I still matter to them. Not every week… but definitely more often than twice a year. I have a hard time making friends, and the friends I have I can count on one hand. If I consider someone my friend, it means they really, really are someone dear to my heart. I’m introverted, yes, but never too busy for my friends.

From my friends I expect a certain level of mutual intimacy, which basically translates to feeling like we can (allow each other to) support each other through good times and bad times. I care about my friends and want to know what’s going on with them, because I am a good listener and genuinely want to lend support, but also in all honesty because I want to feel like they can come to me with everything. Similarly, I want them to take an interest in me, too. They don’t have to read my mind and look into my soul, but if I tell them something is going on, I expect them to have a reaction to it.

One flaw of mine related to this is that I could stand to give people the benefit of the doubt, and more time sometimes. But at the same time, one of my other flaws is holding on for too long. I continue to be attached to someone who’s already drifting away. And the longer I hold on, the more it hurts when that which holds us together still finally snaps.

Seven years ago, I met someone who… understood me completely. No one else but my husband was like that. She always caught my drift, got my jokes. We had so, so many laughs. I felt my life was richer because she was in it. We are long distance. For about 4 years, this was never a problem for us. We’d make time to chat every two weeks. We even managed to see each other on vacations a couple of times. She was like a sister to me.

Then I got engaged. She was the person I told when I had an inkling that it was about to happen, and we squeed and giggled and she wanted to know everything. She was the first person I told after my husband popped the question. I’m not a bridezilla; where I live, getting engaged is cause for celebration, but it isn’t a “stop the presses!!!” moment. But it was important to have a girlfriend to share it with. I never really had that. Girlfriends to do girlfriend things with.

At some point, that just stopped. I didn’t hear from her for months. I was struggling with depression at the time, so I didn’t deal with it very well. (I didn’t give her the benefit of the doubt.) It reached a point where I truly believed she wasn’t going to come to my wedding at all. She avoided me for that long. I never said anything. Instead I tried my hardest to get in touch with her, or well, to get her to get in touch with me. Eventually, she did reach out and told me she was going through something of her own the past couple of months. My reaction wasn’t to scream “what about meeeeeee!” but instead I supported her, listened to her, and also did tell her to not feel like she had to hide this stuff from me. I was here for her, for everything. Yes, I was hurt because I felt ignored, but I understood that it wasn’t about me.

After the wedding we managed to keep in touch relatively well, and even saw each other again one year later while we went on vacation to her country. After that, things started to change.

She was incredibly busy with her job, and I was happy for her. She’d worked a long time to get to where she is today. I made it clear that every time we made plans, I would respect her schedule and understand if something came up. More often than not, she forgot we’d made plans. If she realized it, she’d reschedule – only to either never get back to me on setting a date, or forgetting the new date altogether. She didn’t ever really initiate anything, which bothered me, but again – being supportive of her flourishing job.

Meanwhile I had started to struggle with my fertility problems, and missed having a close friend to talk to about it. She wasn’t there. I eventually reached out to my parents, DH’s parents, and DH’s sister – whom I regard as my own sister now. So I managed to find a new support system. But I missed her. And decided to try one more time. I sent her a long email, thinking, at least this way she can respond on her own time. I told her honestly what was going on – the good updates in our life, the bad ones. My (then) upcoming surgery, my diagnosis, my concerns.

It took her about 3 months to finally reply, but she did, and I felt a little bit more at ease. The whole “benefit of the doubt” thing, even though I had a gnawing realization that 3 months isn’t cool. But I missed her too much. Maybe something else was going on? (Even though I really didn’t think so. She was very active on Facebook during those three months.)

And then I’d already had my surgery and we’d decided to go the IUI route. I was scared. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. How would I handle the medical trajectory? What if it didn’t work? Furthermore, my husband lost his job when I emailed her back. If ever there is a time to get back to your friend, that was it. She never did. I’d hear from her on Facebook sometimes (a like here and there, that’s it). But that was it. And I realized that there was nothing more for me to do. I was disappointed, and started to emotionally detach myself somewhat.

Yes. My husband got his job back a couple weeks later, under a new company set-up. But at the time of my email to her, we didn’t know this would happen. I was scared for my fertility problems, I was scared for our financial stability. I fucking needed my friend. I can forgive her for forgetting my birthday, but I couldn’t really forgive her for this.

Yesterday I found a print-out of that long email she sent me in November. It was full of empty promises. For the first time, I burst into tears. I sat there at 12 weeks pregnant, suddenly incredibly aware of what I long to share with her most, I can’t do anymore. I miss her more than ever and I realize more than ever that it’s over. That I have my flaws, and that adult relationships mean we have an implied background trust and faith in one and other to come through, but this isn’t it. I feel like such a fool for missing her when all along I’ve been demoted to Facebook friend. I keep looking for what I did wrong. Did I say something? Do something? I start doubting myself because I don’t have many friends. It must be me.

But I know it’s not. I don’t want to be angry at her because I still love her. But it’s not fair to be angry at myself instead. I have to choose myself now. This is over, and it’s long time I accept that. I don’t have to feel hate in my heart – I guess that’s the other side of adult relationships, accepting that they can just end without any ill intent. Doesn’t hurt any less though, and I’m finally letting myself cry it out. I need to feel it in order to believe it, truly. But she’s been lost to me for a long time now. It’s time I move on and spend my energy on other people, my husband, my growing baby and myself.

Re-adjust (12w1d)

Things became more real for us this week, after our dating scan (which we had Tuesday). Bubby still measures a day or two ahead, so we decided to keep me on November 10th. That means I hit 12 weeks yesterday. For my husband it took away a bit of HIS anxiety, too. For me, it started to sink in that this one is a keeper. Yet it still feels very surreal.

I had already began coming to terms with the idea of never being able to have children. So I started looking for fulfillment in other ways. I had picked up cooking and baking again. I started daydreaming about travel plans. I picked up a new creative hobby. I found a different enthusiasm for working out that was less about weight and more about feeling good. I found direction with my work. I was beginning to adjust, and I started feeling happy again in other ways.

Of course this isn’t a complaint. What I wanted more than anything, it’s actually happening. But it’s going to take some time to re-adjust. When dealing with fertility problems, it takes you over completely. It feels like it’s the only thing that matters. It blinded me to all the good that I had in my life instead. I had finally started to look beyond that.

And now that I am pregnant, successfully, I’m back to feeling like it’s all that matters right now. Pregnancy is overwhelming. Getting through the first trimester. Anxiety before every scan. My changing body. I simultaneously love, and struggle with, that overwhelming feeling. I love it because we’re finally going to be able to do this. I struggle with it because of my experiences.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget what it’s like to have my fertility problems. I will never truly get over my losses. It became important for me to be my own person and to have an identity beyond being able to have children, to have meaning in my life and a vision of a future that doesn’t feel empty, but full. And I don’t think I need to let that go just because I am finally going to be a mother. It doesn’t have to be either/or for me anymore.

I think it just means that while I will love this child more than anything (and truly cherish it as it’s growing in my belly as I write this), I’m not interested in taking everything else that’s good and valuable in my life for granted anymore. I’m going to be a mother. But there’s more to me than that, and it doesn’t make me ungrateful to feel that way.

I’m not the type of person to dive in and make a change immediately. For me, everything is a process. I often wish I could flip that switch and make it happen. But what matters most right now is that I understand. The rest will happen one baby step at a time.


Holy shit. It’s been aaaaaaages since I’ve updated this blog. I was so used to using this little nook on the web as a tool to deal with my fertility problems, that I seem to feel completely awkward over here now that I’m pregnant. But I do want to keep a record of this time – this beautiful time – in my life, so I’ll try harder. In the meantime, this is what happened:

March 26th @ 7 Weeks, 1 Day

Everything was going great – I’d previously decided to pick up an exercise routine (getting myself that Garmin tracker and everything), upped my fiber intake, basically just doing my thing. And then I start spotting. Part of me has hope, because there is no red hue in sight (with my MC in 2014, I had red spotting immediately). But of course, given my MC & chemical, I have a general distrust in my body. I mean, I believe IUI could work, but I’m unsure if my body would be able to even sustain a pregnancy, and here I am, bleeding again. Rationally I know it isn’t over yet, but I can’t shake the feeling that this is it.

We call  the clinic and they tell us to come in; as it’s the weekend, my own gynecologist or fertility assistants aren’t available, but a very sweet gynecologist makes time for me and has a look.

I expected… well. But there it is. One Egglet, a squirmy <1cm little blob with a steady blinking white dot. As I see my baby’s heartbeat, I finally understand that this is real. While the spotting still concerns me, the gynecologist determined that it was most likely a very small subchorionic hematoma, e.g. a bleed between placenta and uterine wall, and that there is no reason to believe this will end in miscarriage. In fact, this pregnancy is progressing exactly as it should: the embryo measures as it should and most importantly there’s a heartbeat.


The spotting ends a few days after it started, and I start to relax a little (I even develop a bathroom coping mechanism, telling myself when wiping “it’s just the placenta” over and over and over, to still my anxiety), but my husband and I decide to protect our hearts a little while longer until our scan on Tuesday – our original first scan, which the gynecologist kept on the schedule to give us more certainty everything really is OK.

March 29th @ 7 weeks, 4 days

Today’s our second scan, which will hopefully show us Egglet still doing well, its little heart still beating steadily… and thankfully, that’s exactly what we see. Egglet has grown a little bit and its little heart is blinking as it should. My husband missed seeing the heartbeat during the first scan, so it relieves me that he spots it this time. We squeeze each others hands and relief washes over us.


I’m officially discharged from the clinic, which means I can pick a local OB Clinic to continue my care. I find one in town, and I call them to set an appointment. April 18th.


  • From weeks 7 to 10, I mostly feel alright! I don’t have morning sickness as much as evening sickness; currently the nausea peaks right before I go to sleep. I do have less energy, but I feel OK about sharing that, haha. I actually fall asleep about 2 hours earlier than I did before I was pregnant…. which means I get up earlier, too. Sometimes that means being wide awake at 6AM. My husband jokes that the baby is already training me for when I have to be on mommy schedule. My digestive issues seem to be improving for now.
  • They say being pregnant is the best thing for endometriosis, and I do have to say I feel mostly symptom free. It’s just when I have some digestive problems that the endo creeps up, but compared to how it normally is, I cannot complain. I do think that my current increasing backache has something to do with endo though, as my scar tissue is stretching along with my uterus. But it’s something I can live with.
  • We tell our parents, and DH’s sister (along with her partner) – the core 6 who know about our fertility problems. It feels good to finally have something good to share. We maintain a position of caution, but there’s no reason not to tell these people we love so much, and who’ve supported us through everything already.
  • DH is laughing and shaking his head at my cravings – because they’re all over the place. I don’t crave one thing specifically so much as entire food groups. I mostly want carbs (potatoes, bread) and sweets (candy and chocolate). More than anything, I would describe myself as a picky eater. Dinner time is the worst – I don’t know what to cook until right before we’re actually ready to eat something. I’m winging it, but that’s OK.
  • We decide we’re Team Yellow – meaning we’re not going to find out baby’s gender. Let’s see if I can last this long…
  • The OB clinic sends us a questionnaire to fill out so they have our initial health / family history / cycle history details. We fill it out quickly.

April 18th @ 10 weeks, 3 days

Today’s my intake with the OB Clinic. Because it’s just an intake, my husband goes to work and I go to the appointment by myself.

As soon as I walk in, I start to feel emotional. Come to think of it, every time I take a moment to think about what is actually happening, I get emotional. As I sit down to talk to the OB on duty (they rotate OB’s), I can’t contain it anymore. It’s weird, because I feel happy… and I feel pretty solid about our odds here, but the anxiety has apparently built up in the meantime, and peaked. I am still worried. I don’t think I’ll ever fully stop worrying.

The OB picks up on it immediately and asks me some questions. I explain that I’ve had two losses and that I had an issue with spotting a couple weeks earlier. I also say that I sometimes have nightmares, and as I say it, I understand that I’m scared of miscarrying still. The OB handles it so well, beyond my expectations: she suggests we just go take a look at the baby. So I get an ultrasound, which is not what I was aiming for, but as she suggests it I realize I really, really would like that.

It’s hard to describe what I’m feeling next as we find our little Bubby (I’ve been calling it Little Bubby or Bubby lately; I talk to my belly a lot these days). It looks beautifully like a miniature baby now. So much has happened in 3 weeks! Bubby is 4cm and its little heart is beating incredibly fast. But then something amazing happens – Bubby moves.

I am not prepared for that at all, and am shocked when Bubby suddenly bounces up and down, starts moving and stretching its little limbs, and even has a small bout of the hiccups. The OB is super excited about Bubby’s activity, saying it’s good that we’re seeing it stretching and flexing. She measures the now-officially-fetus and puts me one day ahead, at 10 weeks 4 days – which is a second incredible relief, as I’ve been worrying – of course – about being put behind rather than on time or ahead. She gives me 3 ultrasound photos (which I’ll share later, the file is a little big) and suggests we still book in our official 10-12 week scan, so that my husband (who’s missing out on this now) will be able to see it for himself. I am hyper-aware of having hit the jackpot with this OB Clinic. We set the scan date for April 26th.

Meanwhile we discussed my history in detail, and I as I talk about endometriosis I notice that this OB has knowledge about it, which makes me feel even more comfortable. I am grateful for the fertility clinic, but the assistants there knew next to nothing about it, which sometimes made me feel misunderstood, for instance when I experienced pain during internal exams.

And now…

This morning I went in to get my blood drawn; the clinic will test my glucose and iron levels, check for rhesus factor, and other things. I seem to have a problem: every damn time I get my blood drawn, I leave bruised. Right now I have a pretty big (relatively) hematoma in my inner elbow which will leave me looking hella bruised starting tomorrow. THANKS.

Unfortunately I’ve gotten another cold sore flare up which has made me feel a bit more blah than just pregnancy blah. I think today it’s starting to turn around and improve. It definitely pays to have the necessary medication (ointments) in stock. I feel like now I can stop it relatively early on. I hope from next week on out, I can start a new work routine (earlier days, let’s take advantage of that) and really improve my productivity. I think it’s important to settle into a routine now that I’m pregnant, so it’s more likely that I’ll keep it up when the kidlet is actually here.

Finally, the reality is truly sinking in. I think about what I saw on the ultrasound and I burst into happy tears. I realize a LOT is going to change. I’m trying my best to relax and take it day by day.

Almost halfway…

…through the first trimester. Even though technically, it’s not that simple. I mean, the first 4 weeks were an oblivious gift of sorts. But I’ll take what I can get 😀

Since writing last, I’ve been doing very well still. So far, pregnancy isn’t as overwhelming as it has been in the past. I feel like I flipped a switch after my second IUI cycle and I’m pretty proud of myself and how I’m handling everything now. Definitely a lot less anxious and a lot more rational. I definitely feel pregnant and feel joy because of it (and now I am catching myself planning nursery themes and looking at onesies), but at the same time I am still cautious. The scan date is coming closer, and I think for me it will become more real then.

Keeping Mum

(I am treating everything as a hypothetical. Re: caution.) That’s also around the time we’re going to tell our ‘core group’ of family members, meaning the 6 who have been aware of, and supportive of us during, our miscarriages, infertility struggles and IUI’s. We feel comfortable with having them know before the second trimester. The rest will have to wait until after week 13. The core group has already been asking questions about how it’s going, haha, so we made up a little white lie which technically isn’t false: “We’re on a break from IUI.”

All The Feels & Dealing With It

Symptoms wise, I’m feeling mostly fine, all things relative. I mean, there’s always some cramping, some queasiness, exhaustion – but in the grand scheme of things, it’s “fine”. I’m also in a way trying not to complain too much. Yes, there is so much discomfort, but mostly I’m just thanking my lucky stars.



The exhaustion does come with some problems. I’m having a really hard time concentrating on work. This week I’m going to try and get back into a routine, and focus on doing my best. As long as I actually try. I also learned to just take a daily nap and reboot my power a little.

For the nausea, I have some tactics. I’m eating multiple small meals a day. I crave salt, and weirdly salt makes me feel better, so I have saltines, pretzels and potato chips at hand. And I bought some ginger ale and ginger tea for when it really hits me. I sometimes have bad reflux and stocked up on pregnancy safe tablets to take when it’s bad. I popped a few in my handbag and placed the rest on my nightstand.

Fit Journey, First Tri Style

I really have finally started up an exercise routine once more, for several reasons: a) to maintain my current weight with its slightly too high BMI during first tri, b) because being fit during pregnancy will only benefit every aspect of my pregnancy and help me bounce back quicker after, and c) to help keep constipation at bay. While I don’t push myself to do something every day (nausea all day = hell no), when I feel able to do something, I do something.

Last week when I started I didn’t enjoy my (modified!) workout as much as I could have because I was constantly worried about my heart rate. Now after that I read that it doesn’t come down to a heart rate limit; as long as you can still talk normally and aren’t falling over, you’re fine. But I still feel much better knowing my heart rate isn’t going through the roof. So I finally went and got myself a fitness tracker with a heart rate measuring system. I’ve wanted one for ages anyway, to keep track of burned calories, distance walked, etc… so while it was a bit of an investment, it’s going to be useful for years to come. I also linked it to My Fitness Pal, which I’ve started using again this week to keep track of my nutrition and calorie intake.

Life & Death

And finally, yesterday I was told my estranged (almost 25 years) paternal grandmother passed away that morning. It made me feel very weird. One isn’t supposed to speak ill of the dead, but I don’t subscribe to hypocrisy. I won’t suddenly forgive someone for their actions, and say nothing but kind things about them, just because they’re dead now. Letting go of anger towards them is healthy, but that doesn’t mean they’re suddenly saints.
My grandmother was a real piece of work and I have no love for her, and her death doesn’t move me. I’m usually a very emotional person, so to feel such coldness towards someone says a lot about who they were as a person. I have childhood memories of her and my grandfather (who passed 12 years ago), but there was never any warmth or a bond there. She just wasn’t a very kind person.

The only thing that I felt yesterday was concern for my father, who never really got any closure. My father doesn’t ever talk about it, but my mom suspects there was physical (not sexual) and emotional abuse growing up. I’m not suggesting they should have made up – but it might have been good for him to for once and for all tell her how much she hurt him as a child and as an adult. I also feel for my aunt, the only person still in touch with her parents. She did love them, and my aunt is a kind person at heart, so I feel sadness for her loss.

My parents are going to the funeral to support my aunt. I’m not going – unless my father changes his mind and wants me there. But I don’t think he will.

…and add some fiber, too

Yesterday my cramps were pretty intense – not that I thought they were anything other than digestive cramps. But gas-or constipation cramps can sometimes feel endometriosis-y, and I can’t help but feel a pinch of worry, even though rationally I know it’s because I’m pregnant. That, and it makes it hard for me to be productive. So I decided to up my fiber intake.

I already stay away from most white foods; pre-pregnancy, I’d often get painfully bloated from eating white bread, white pasta, white rice, etcetera. So I mostly eat whole grains. I also eat Greek yogurt regularly with some muesli. Lots of fresh veggies. This dietary adjustment did the trick pre-pregnancy. But now it’s not enough anymore. Furthermore, I used to drink a digestive tea when I had constipation issues but the herbs in that tea are not recommended for pregnancy.

So apart from increasing my water intake, I’ve added in fresh orange juice, digestive cookies with my decaf coffee, sugar-free muesli, my country’s fiber-rich version of gingerbread cake and more in hopes of giving my digestive system a boost. I know I could be eating more fruit, but I’m not a fruit lover – but who knows maybe if all else fails…

On a different subject – about 6 months ago when I was working out a lot, I “discovered” that I have a long torso. I noticed when my abs started to form and I had quite a bit of “extra space”. I’m not particularly tall, but apparently my torso is tall in relation to my length as a whole. I was curious about long torso pregnancy and found some info: in most cases you’ll start to show later, you’ll carry lower (which makes sense, it would look lower) and there’s a possibility for less discomfort because you have more room for the growing baby to grow upward. If I make it that far, it would be interesting to see if this holds up…!

Finally, I haven’t been very active the past few weeks, and it’s starting to bother me (and I’m sure it’s also contributing a little bit to the bowel issues), so I’m considering very mildly picking up my exercise routine with some very basic exercises and yoga. I’ll have to try and see what works for me and my current comfort level! Definitely stay at a level which is comfortable, and modify as I go.

Water please!

Wow. It’s been a whole week since I’ve updated. Still pregnant! 5w2d today. I think I wanted to let it all sink in a little? I wanted to get beyond the point where my pregnancy in 2014 started to come to an end. I lost that bean at 5w5d, but started feeling different around 4w5d, bleeding on 5w. Now that I’ve passed that point, I feel a bit more at ease. I even felt comfortable enough to call the clinic, to make an appointment for the first ultrasound. March 29th. I’d be 7w4d then.

So far I’m feeling good still! My biggest “complaint” (as uncomfortable as I feel at times, I welcome all of it, and feel happy about it) is constipation and the cramps it brings (and gas cramps too). I’m drinking loads and loads of water and trying to pack more fiber into my diet.

My breasts are also sore as ever. I find it most comfortable to wear (also while sleeping) a bandeau bra. But I’m going to have to look into buying proper bras at some point.

Definitely more tired. I nap every day, sometimes twice. I wake up earlier than usual, too. I often wake up in the middle of the night, sleep for a few hours, and then shoot wide awake at 7AM. “Already training me for school times,” I joke.

My first craving: salty potato chips. I really need them on hand or I’ll go stir crazy. Another funny symptom: some of my cosmetic products (soap and conditioner) are smelling a little off. A weird symptom: must have been a few days after my BFP that I got a nosebleed at night. It was my second this cycle. Hadn’t had them since I was maybe 18 years old.

No morning sickness yet, but I’ve heard that shouldn’t hit me until around 6w, so I’ll be waiting for that.

This past week I’ve been getting some things done around the house. I’m determined to catch up on laundry. I cleaned out the fridge. I’ve been potting some seedlings for our garden.

The latter is going to be challenging if all goes well in this pregnancy. I love being outdoors, I love working in my garden… and our neighbor’s cats love my garden, too. My neighbors are first class dickwads, and they don’t give a shit about their pets roaming around other people’s gardens. I get that cats are outside animals, but they are also smart: if you want cats, train them to stay in YOUR OWN DAMN GARDEN. YOURS. Since they are YOUR PETS. I didn’t ask for cats in my garden. It’s always been a (wait for it…) pet peeve of mine, but now more than ever: there’s a risk of toxoplasmosis that I’m just not keen on (and yes, I have caught them shitting in my backyard) and I don’t know if I’m immune or not. I’m guessing just as long as I wear gloves, knock it off with the bohemian barefoot walking around outside, and wash my hands and veggies as best as I can, I’ll be alright.

5w2d, and already so much to think about.

Here we go again!

Well, I finally caved a few nights ago, and tested, because I was beginning to feel like I was sticking my head in the sand.

First I’ll re-iterate that waiting to test was a really good decision for me personally after my chemical pregnancy at 4w last cycle. In a way I had a bit more time to prepare for the result, working on acceptance of whatever it was going to be. That I’m already happy with my life. Putting some things into perspective regarding my life really helped; the understanding that my anxiety last cycle was unnecessary also allowed for a calmer TWW this time around.

I tested 14DPIU, so about 2 days ago, at midnight with a ClearBlue digital (no conception indicator). I was between 1-3 days late (with my varying cycle length). I picked it on purpose: the Wondfo’s that I tested with both in 2014 and last cycle are much more sensitive (HCG 25; CB digi measures from HCG 50). I didn’t want another round of faint lines. I needed clarity: a detection of a higher HCG level would give me more confidence if I did get another BFP. And not going to lie, seeing it spelled out also would be easier. I held in my wee for 5 hours and tested at midnight…. and it came up “pregnant” within a minute!

And my first emotion wasn’t “Oh shit”, I was happy – DH and I smiled and hugged each other, me making a joke about how my pink sweatpants (that DH hates) are lucky!

20160304-POAS-blogThe test cartridge removed from the digi reader, the next morning. Test line on the left.

I was surprised to see such a strong line. That honestly hasn’t happened to me before. This test is stronger than my 14DPO test in 2014. This test is way, way stronger than any Wondfo’s last cycle. It gives me a lot of peace of mind. It’s also just the only test I’ve done because I felt it said enough. I’m not going to worry about progression, instead I’m just trusting in my symptoms, which are similar to last cycle’s but stronger for sure:

  • Sore breasts, check. They especially hurt on the sides, and that’s where the swelling is. They started to hurt late in the TWW, which was my first tip-off.
  • Nipple grazing is no fun.
  • Insomnia again, just like last cycle. My second tip-off.
  • Some mild lower abdominal cramping.
  • Lack of endo symptoms – sometimes I get a cramp, but it’s nowhere near as bad as usual.
  • Gas. OMG, the gas.
  • New: creamy cervical mucus. Last cycle I was dry.
  • New: nausea for a few days.
  • Constipation!
  • Cold sore on my nose again… Zoviraxed it away quickly, thankfully. Another tip off. I get cold sores a few times a year, but so far I’ve had them every single pregnancy. Combined with the other symptoms, it did give me hope.
  • Belly button twinged more.
  • Frequent urination is only starting to come now at 16DPIUI.
  • New: nose bleeds. Have had two this cycle.

Whatever happens, happens. That is my current frame of mind. I’m allowing myself to be happy, to enjoy this pregnancy. I’m bonding a little bit even, calling it “the baby” already, and making lighthearted jokes (“The eh baby wants Ben & Jerry’s, not me!”). I’m trying to move around a little more (“The baby’s not going to fall out!”) and adjust, to not let this take over my daily life and to be overwhelmed, but to let pregnancy be a part of it.

Yes, sometimes a twinge of worry enters my mind, but I push it away, focusing on the strong pregnancy test and the fact that my boobs are angry sore. Then I grab a book to distract myself.

And I’m calmer this way. I realized that if this pregnancy doesn’t work out, I’m not going to be any less sad if I was in denial about my pregnancy, or not focused on the happy aspect of it. I’d be crushed either way. So why not enjoy the good while I can, be happy, for my own quality of life – and just take it one day at a time?

I am still careful – we’re not telling anyone yet. I’m also waiting out this week before I call my clinic to schedule in the first ultrasound. But… today, right now, everything feels fine, and that’s what matters.


Here we are, nearing the end of the TWW again. I’m blending the usual emotions involved with IUI’s (there’s room for them) with a not-trying-not-preventing kind of attitude (whatever happens, happens), and I find it keeps me sane somewhat. It allows me to not get carried away in all of my feelings to have this sort of pre-acceptance going on, this pure understanding of my chances.

I’m also purposely not testing yet for this reason. Well, and because I’d hate to experience another chemical pregnancy. I got through it last month, but I’d like to spare myself if anything like that is taking place again immediately after. This doesn’t mean I think I’m pregnant, but just that I need to have peace of mind either way if it comes to me entering my fourth IUI round.

Instead of worrying and testing and googling, I’m focusing on embracing my different life:

  • finding more purpose regarding my work
  • finding enjoyment in the little things, things I previously stopped taking pleasure in
  • making more room for intimacy, affection and romance with my DH – we have each other
  • finally having some order in my household and taking responsibility as I have more roles
  • starting my vegetable garden and preparing for summer – my happiest season
  • making travel plans – which I’m truly excited about… it’s a new experience with valuable memories to look back on, and something to hold on to as we are still childless
  • focusing on a healthier lifestyle bit by bit
  • not being “all about infertility” with my family and friends: addressing other things in life more

I’m really noticing improvement in how I live my daily life, and I have to say I’m proud of myself. Yes, there’s always more to work on, but it’s not about that for me. It’s about taking small steps leading to a more whole version of myself, the one that includes infertility yet so. much. more.


Alright – we’re in the TWW once more. I feel good, hopeful (THREE EGGS!) but careful not to let my entire happiness hinge on the outcome. It’s slow goings. I’m just trying to keep busy this time around, no matter what happens, and to not think about it all too much. A general update post:

My workout routine is shot to hell AGAIN. Grrrr. I used to be so disciplined, I don’t know what happened. Either way, I will do something about it today. Pilates, or some dance routine, or even some gentle yoga – as long as it’s something!

Work is also turning out to be a little bit unproductive, but I’m trying to focus on the fact that although I don’t make my self-imposed deadlines, I eventually do get the work done, and that means I’m still productive. I’m being kinder to myself.

I am investing time and some money into a fulfilling new hobby. I hope to do more with that this month. It gives me a new sense of accomplishment to see myself get better at it every time I try.

I finally saw and spoke to the relevant family members and gave them an update about the situation, with my chemical pregnancy. It’s hard to need alone time when you’re so close to your family. Part of you wants to allow them to support you, yet another needs time to process it all in your own head space, first. So I let myself do that, and once I came to terms with what had happened, and once it was clear my current IUI is giving me a lot to be optimistic about, I was able to talk about it without falling apart.

And finally, there’s the housework that I’ve seriously fallen behind on. My goodness. The laundry was piling up, literally, and once I started tripping over everything I decided I had enough. I’m not a domestic goddess and my house is always a little messy, but ughhhhh, I have limits. It’s important to keep my home life organized too.

And that’s how I’m reaching my conclusion: once I achieve balance, with having other aspects of my life outside of TTC relatively in order, it will only serve to make me feel better as a whole including TTC. The more time I spend on getting my life in order and achieving focus, the less time I have fretting about fertility treatments, the less room there will be for anxiety. And while I’m not advocating to shut out any emotions (never), I am advocating for the understanding that there is a time and a place, that I have to make room for my feelings just as much as I have to try harder to make room for my adult responsibilities.

So that’s what I’m going to try to focus on while I wait, wait, wait.

IUI #3 tomorrow

So, here we are, 3rd IUI. It’s scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. The higher Clomid dose has paid off: I will ovulate with 3 eggs this cycle, and I’m beyond stoked about it. It’s not about the small chance of triplets, rather it’s about having 3 chances of conception, and hopefully a higher chance of one of them actually sticking around this time.

It feels like it’s all happening so quickly – a mere two weeks after a pregnancy loss, and here I am gearing up for my next IUI. But I feel good, I feel ready, excited even. This is powerful. I didn’t expect that I could have this mindset. I think I truly do feel hope and am open to the possibility of it working, despite the grief I’ve been feeling for having yet another pregnancy loss.

I’ve been binge-watching both the X-Files and The Mysteries of Laura this week, and they both made me think about my situation a little more, especially The Mysteries of Laura because it hit close to home.

My first observation regarding Laura was that she and I are terribly alike. From the messy eating to the attitude to the way we dress to the hair color (and as it turns out, to the miscarriage). Really loving that show.
There was a Mysteries of Laura episode about fertility doctors and how they lied to their patients, telling them they were pregnant when they weren’t, meaning of course their periods would set in, and the women and their partners believed they were miscarrying, and subsequently grieving pregnancy losses. It’s totally fiction (and certain things were completely unbelievable / oversimplified), but it still hit a nerve with me.
The reasoning was that they did it to give hope. Having just experienced a chemical pregnancy like the one experienced by these characters on the show, it did cause me to think about how I feel right now: feeling hope after loss. I do feel it.

That said. You never want loss. Never. It’s not the better option. So while I do feel optimism, I really wish I didn’t get my optimism like this. It’s very contradictory. I’m reminded of when my former friend made the completely wrong remark as she was dealing with her own fertility issues (which were due to hypothyroidism; she conceived just fine and had a successful birth after the imbalances were dealt with): at least I was pregnant, and she wishes she could have what I had.

Damn girl. As a woman being dealt two shitty TTC cards (loss + fertility problems) and having the bad luck of understanding both situations, I can still assure you: you really don’t fucking want to be in my shoes, or the shoes of any other woman who has experienced a miscarriage. With my fertility problems I understand, and am scared to death, of the idea of never being a mother, and there is a certain amount of grief attached to that. But to have been pregnant, to have understood for yourself that you were going to be a mother, and you felt like a mother because you were one, briefly. To have bonded and planned your future more concretely and to then lose that… there’s a cruelty. The happiest thing in your life, a love you never imagined possible, was taken away. After, you are a silent mother, a tabooed mother, a mother in your heart, a mother in your alternate timeline. But you’ve got nothing to show for it.

“At least you were pregnant”, she said, like it’s something to be smug about. Being able to conceive is not the… it’s the beginning, but not a magical guarantee to a happy ending.

So while on this blog I talk about feeling optimistic two weeks after my second pregnancy loss, and mentioned while still pregnant how happy I was that we at least conceived, it never negates the loss and it sure as hell didn’t take away my fear of never being a mother. When I stop to think about it, which I do a few times every day, oh man. I break a little. Wanting something and losing something are two very different animals.

I choose to look forward. It doesn’t mean I’m “trying to be strong”. I believe there is strength in dealing with emotions just as much as I believe there is strength in staying optimistic and moving forward. I’m just remembering what I’m doing it for and that’s what keeps me going.

The other TV Show I’ve been binge-watching, The X-Files, also covers the subject of fertility problems, IVF and loss.
The current X-Files Revival has sparked some discussion: I read one article about how a viewer thought it was “not feminist” and “completely out of character” for Dana Scully – a religious but otherwise skeptical, scientific, rational and practical character – to regularly bring up her feelings regarding having to give up her son for adoption years ago, a son she very much wanted, but had to give up in order to protect him. Some arguments were that the revival is poorly written, but that’s another subject. But it being anti-feminist or out of character?

Fuck you:

a) You can still be a feminist and rage against “the patriarchy” #eyeroll while wanting to be a mother, being a mother, grieving being unable to be a mother. What is this attitude? If that’s what feminism is all about… if feminism is telling women what they can and can’t feel or want in life in order to be a “real woman” or a “good woman” (remind you of anything?), then fuck feminism.
b) Out of character? Unless you’ve been there, you can’t possibly understand how life altering something like this is. Out of character? No. It now is her character. Add to this that she is a woman who believes in a higher power: while faith gives hope, faith is shaken to its core when something like this happens. This is very unsettling.
c) And yes, the regularity of it is also quite normal. You don’t ever forget it, it creeps up behind you when you do even the most mundane of things, like eating a sandwich or hearing a song. Imagine what it’s like when you’re in a situation where you’re more often reminded of what you lost. To suggest that she “needs to let it go already” is absolute bullshit. This never leaves you.

It’s fiction but the non-fictional attitude is scary and continues to feed the idea that miscarriage is a taboo, something we need to just let go.
So as I close my rant, I’ll share this article written by actress Laura Benanti, who experienced a miscarriage and discusses its taboo status, or “the Voldemort of women’s health issues”. Highly recommended read.