Well, it looks like me and Chris are back on the TTC bandwagon again.

A few months ago, I asked my doctor to send a referral to an OBGYN. A year and a half ago, my awesome OBGYN decided to up and leave our area and I was heartbroken. She worked with my clinic and was used to doing the pre-workup for all treatments to cut down on travel. We weren’t in a place of financial stability to proceed with treatments but she promised that when I was ready, we could return and start the process of IUI with donor sperm.

Then she left.

And that kick started our final stage of going into TTC limbo.

I was broken and frustrated. We were at almost 7 years with nothing. Not even one positive pregnancy test and no way to fund any treatments. So we entered limbo. We attended an information session about adoption and we were still unsure as they wanted us to resolve the treatment side of our journey before we move into adoption. I was hesitant. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that absolute invasion into our privacy. I didn’t know if I could handle them finding anything that would turn us down as adoptive parents. I still feared putting the verdict of if we qualify to be parents in the hands of someone else. I know I can’t deal with the worst possible outcome yet, so I won’t move forward until I can.

Then stuff happened at work. I was working so much overtime in the new year that at one point I was doing 12 hour days, 7 days a week. At one point I worked close to 40 days straight without a day off and I only had those two days off because they entire province literally shut down due to a monster storm.

Then I had the summer from hell. The short hand: my father and brother threatened to kill my husband and I haven’t talked to them since.

So life has been exhausting and hard.

So, the last time I went to get my shot on my knee, I asked my family doctor to refer me to a new OBGYN. The last time I was at the OBGYN’s office, she referred Chris to a Urologist and we got less than stellar news. She never flat out told me I had PCOS, but my referral stated that I had PCOS. Chris’s count was up, but the boys just weren’t doing anything. I needed to have the PCOS confirmed. I needed answers. I needed some direction and I was ready.

Today, I met Dr. M and she was wonderful to talk to. She listened as I gave her my medical history. I told her about our 8 years of trying. I told her about my crazy thyroid, my random periods, the no ovulation, the maybe PCOS and my struggle to lose weight despite keeping active and eating healthy. She didn’t just assume I’m not pregnant because I’m fat, which happens far more than it should. She looked at my history and the factors and determined that not all of my weight problems stemmed from eating unhealthy. Is it part of the problem? Sure. But only part.

Then things happened. She gave me hope. She gave me information. She listened and believed me.

She looked at my records and blood work and test results. She confirmed PCOS. She gave me information. She sent referrals. She gave me directions. She put me on Metformin, told me to get back on my pre-natal vitamins and folic acid, she sent a referral to a dietician to talk to me about meal planning to help with my PCOS/Thyroid Double Whammy issue, the two conditions that cause weight gain and make it hard to lose but the conditions are worse when the weight is on, its a self feeding cycle. But she’s getting me help. She encouraged me to keep as active as I can without making me feel bad about it. She asked for my input and what outcomes I want. She didn’t look in shock when all of my blood work showed how healthy I was. I felt good when I left. I had hope for the first time in a very long time.

Then I mildly panicked on the way out the door, when I realized I was getting back on this emotional TTC crazy train…again.

Is this something I still want to do?

Can I handle this?

You’ve found coping mechanisms and you are finding some peace, even if only a little, is it worth it to give that up for even the possibility?

But the need for a child is still there. Its like a brick to the face when I think about it. It’s an ache that I feel to the very core of my being.

Yet I won’t dare even let myself think of the what if we were to succeed. Because I won’t put myself through that torture. Instead, I have hope that maybe this will lead us somewhere and give us some answers. Some direction. Some possibility of moving forward.

So. Here we are.

Back on the TTC train again.

*sigh*

I hate Mother’s Day.

Just like others who may have bad relationships with their moms, no mom, they lost their baby or they struggle to be a mom.

Talking with my best friend/fellow IF sister yesterday while selling Girl Guide Cookies with our Brownies, we watched as every single person who entered that grocery store picked up Mother’s Day flowers. The store was nice enough to put us by the entrance which was also the home to all the flowers and Mother’s Day cards.

Two girls with a combined 17 years of infertility struggles between us.

We talked about the fact that Mother’s Day seemed to explode this year. We thought it was just both of our own depressive episodes, but someone overheard us and agreed. I’m about to become the voice of unpopular opinion, but I’m gonna say it anyway. I’m saying it despite the fact that I come from a line of incredibly strong and loving women who deserve to be honored every single day of the year.

Mother’s Day just blew up this year. Mother’s Day became less a day to honor mom’s for all they do and became more of a group of women stroking each others egos for a week. Mother’s Day became Mother’s Week. All week, there were mothers honoring themselves by sharing a photo challenge (share a photo when you were pregnant, when your child was first born and a picture of them now), then there was a facebook status update that was all about your first born child that asked questions about epidurals and labour. There were moms posting all week about the gifts they were being showered in each day.

As someone who struggles with this particular holiday, this was a hard week. It’s hard to avoid.

Why does this happen only for Mother’s Day? We don’t see this buildup for Father’s Day. Men don’t assault social media with status updates about their first born, and photo collages. Men don’t take part in circle jerks spending a week talking about how awesome they are. Most want something they had their eye on (some tools, a new video game), maybe some BBQ and a relaxing day. We get a feast of lobsters for my dad, my husband gets his dad a new golf club or fishing gear. We have supper. That’s it. Businesses and ads have always used both holidays as a build up, but usually that’s it. Why do women have to stroke each others ego continuously in the weeks leading up to the day.

This past week was CIAW or Canadian Infertility Awareness Week. I attended a fundraising paint night and had an amazing time. I talked about infertility and shared information. I talked about how important it was to me and for everyone trying to build their family to have support on this road. We want to be moms and dads, but we can’t. Do you know how many people commented or showed any support to me? Not many (literally my mom and my fellow IF sisters who still haven’t had any luck either and a handful of friends who support me relentlessly). Yet right next to that post were some of these meme’s and challenges to show how proud someone is to be a mom and those were liked by everyone who saw it. When has it become OK not to support the road to parenthood but to only celebrate the parenthood once the child is born?

And finally, if mom’s are so important, then they don’t need a special day to show them how much they are loved. If you really love your mom, grand mom and all the moms in the world, then why aren’t you showing them this love all year round. My mom knows how hard this day is for me, so she doesn’t ask much of me. Instead we will pick a day away from today and do something nice together. Why? Because my mom is amazing. Shes supportive. And she knows that she doesn’t need a special day for me to show her how much she means to me. She knows every single day just how much she means to me. Because that’s how it should be. Also, she’s on a well earned vacation with dad in Jamaica so there’s that. She doesn’t need me plastering social media and she doesn’t expect it.

If you’re a mom and your offended, too bad. Look at your social media feed today. Any of them. And I’m pretty sure all of my one opinion will be drowned out by all the feel good wishes flooding your social media. Bask in that instead. And know that for every message recognizing mothers today, there are so many out there hurting right now, just hoping to survive the day, that deal with hurtful comments when we have an awareness week, who don’t get a special day to show how loved they are despite the fact that they can’t reproduce. Today, my thoughts are with them. To all of those struggling today, I’m with you today. I wish I could hug you all. I’m living that pain too.

There, I said it. Depression is a bitch.

Can I just put it out there and say that I hate depression. I’m still feeling incredibly low. So low that I sleep a lot lately. I wake up, do a few things, stare off into space and then nap. Just to repeat until bedtime. It’s so hard. I’m used to being active and on the go. It also doesn’t help that the weather has been rainy and gloomy for days and will be until the end of the week.

But the fog is ever so slowly starting to lift. I can tell that I’ve hit my lowest point and that there is only going up from here. I’m expecting it to go back to bad again this weekend, but I know whats going to happen. I’m taking steps to unplug from social media, to up the self care game and make the weekend about strictly my survival. Thankfully my mom will be away on her tropical vacation so I can stay in and stay in self preservation mode.

But I can feel the move towards being less depressed which is one step closer to being not depressed and one step closer to being happy again. I can do this, I just have to weather this storm just a little bit longer.

In other news, still no updates on my Aunt. We continue to prepare for the worst, while still hoping that she just took off without telling anyone. I don’t kid myself on the odds, but I refuse to give up that tiny sliver of hope either.

Still no changes. 

No news on my aunt. 
But something has happened. After I wrote my last post, I was able to have a small part of that pressure release. That last part that just stopped me dead in my tracks just gave way and made room for me to live again. At least a little bit, which is so much better than what I was living with. 

It’s been little steps, but I started a new audiobook. I picked up my crocheting again. I started that Girl Guide paperwork I was dreading. I still can’t push myself beyond that. The clothes wait to be washed and the dishes too, but at least it’s something, right? 

So now I’m pushing myself to write. Because it’s giving me some release and I need to acknowledge that. 

So I’m here, writing. Hoping that it helps. 

I always turn to this space in times of pain, loss, confusion or sadness. My writing and my need of release always comes from a dark place. Of course this time is no different. I find myself covered in sadness with no real reprieve from it. I’ve tried desperately to search out some happiness and peace, but sadness finds more sadness and I try my best to ride this wave.

Finding happiness in my sudden expanse of free time instead leaves me bored and unable to find anything to fill the void that comes from leaving a job I truly love. Particularly after dedicating so much of my little free time to overtime.

Easter came and went, my least favorite of the holidays. It’s the holiday that always has the strongest effect on my infertility despite the fact that I consider myself unsubscribed from faith in general. While this holiday is seen by most as a holiday dedicated to the religious, its not. In our small community, the community as a whole shuts down. Easter weekend arrives and your options are church, family dinners and no businesses open to pass the time. Its a family based holiday. A holiday for children and happy families. And for a couple with no children, it becomes a boring weekend where family wishes you were more observant of religious holidays and turkey dinners. I truly feel like my life lacks something during this “holiday”. I acutely feel the emotional side of my forever empty womb and the longing in our parents eyes to be able to spoil grandchildren we may never have.

Easter always stings, no matter what I do.

Fast forward to last week, when I found out that an my Aunt/Godmother has been missing since Easter weekend. My mom’s twin sister has gone missing. No one has seen her since Good Friday and search crews have stopped the search indefinitely. Our family is beside itself with worry and grief. Press have released statements from search and rescue before the family has been notified. My mother is a mess. I’ve been dealing with my own guilt and shame. Our relationship has been strained at best. Each day, I relive hurtful words I’ve said from when I was younger and didn’t understand that her actions were influenced by her own problems. I may not have liked her, but she was my family and as the years have passed, I realized that she’ll always be family and I love her, just not the things she does to hurt those around her.

So fear, guilt and depression are my emotions as of late. I’m in a dark depressive pit that I can’t get myself out of. I don’t know what to do because nothing keeps my attention. I don’t know where to go, because nothing appeals to me. I start a movie or show, just to give up on it. I start reading and give up when I’ve read the same line 10 times in a row. I start to crochet and quickly lose interest. And when I do find something I enjoy, guilt shows up just to remind me that its still there.

Why are you smiling Kim? Is Debbie smiling, will she smile again? 

Why are you laughing Kim? Is that really appropriate right now? 

Why are you crying Kim? Were you really close enough to her to justify crying? 

Why are you sad Kim, it’s not like you were that close to her? 

Hey Kim, remember how many times you told her you hated her? 

That’s what I hear anytime I do anything. My inner voice is hard to live with. I wish I knew how to feel. How to act. I want to know shes OK, but I have enough common sense to know that the burned car, the lack of activity on all banking accounts all tell us that we might not be lucky enough to see her again. So instead we try to keep busy and wait for updates. We trust that the cops are doing their best and will tell us when they know more.

So for now, I write out my feelings. I give them a place to go to help me find some relief. I wish I could tell you that it worked, but we both know that’s a lie.

Please, if you read this, pray and hope that they find her.

For the first time in a long time, a really long time, I find myself needing to write.

I lost my fire and my fight. But here I am, resurfacing, needing to write.

So much has happened and yet so much hasn’t. I’m still in limbo and we can leave it at that.

I find myself filled with anger again. Anger at the people around me, anger at work, anger at random strangers and friends alike. I’ve lost my passion. What once fueled me has me instead feeling spread thin. My passions have become chores and my work consumes me (and not in the good way).

I have an employer who would rather hire people who can answer magical question with magical answers instead of hiring the people who can not only do the job, but do it well. A hellish process, a competition that pits coworkers against each other for a handful of full time jobs and instead pass it off to someone who has never done the job. Who wants to go to work in an environment like that? I don’t. But there is nothing else around here. So I get up and go to work even though I leave sick each night.

Stress has turned my body against me. Random aches and pains have started. Upset stomach. I leave work every night glad to be done, upset stomach. The aches and pains stop as soon as I get home.

I count down the days to the end of my contract but then worry about what happens when its done. I’m so worried about money. I’m the breadwinner and the change in pay when my contract ends will be a struggle.

I’m just tired. I’m stick of being tired. I’m sick of being sick and tired. And worried. I don’t want to be worried anymore. I want a stable job, with a decent income that we can live off of. I want my husband to get his long term disability.

I just needed to write out what I don’t have the courage to say. Even if no one reads this, I just needed the words on the screen. To let them go so they don’t rip me apart.

Yeah, sorry about that. I put myself on a social media hiatus. 

Mentally I needed it. 

I needed to walk away from the emotional side of infertility and its toll on me. I needed me time, infertility free me time. It wasn’t easy and I still don’t have answers or direction. I also limited my other social media. I’ve tried to dial back my social media presence as a whole. I’ve been frustrated, hurt, annoyed and overall done with the way people think they can act because they are online when they say it. 

I keep online enough to fulfill my Social Media Adviser gig and to update my social media in order to not draw attention and worry from my family. I keep up an appearance online and that’s about it. 

And honestly? I haven’t felt like part of the blogging circle for awhile. I’m at a stand still. I’ve been in this game for 7 years. There is nothing happening right now and for the foreseeable future. I’m war weary and most of the people who started his battle with me have moved on, either giving up and moving on or getting what we all want, a baby in our arms. Those new to the circle, I have trouble relating to. Those who have resolved, I don’t find myself caring about seeing their happy endings. I’m in no mans land with no clear direction to follow and I’m just trying to convince myself that I’m ok with  all of it. 

So I walked away. I found something that gives me passion. I work with Girl Guides. I give it my all. It’s a distraction in every sense of the word but it’s also something that brings me great joy in an otherwise joyless life. I don’t say that in a dramatic way, just an observation. We are struggling right now. We fight a lot. We’ve talked about whether this marriage is worth  it or if we should just call it quits. We decided that we are still very much in love and that this is simply a rough patch. I’m depressed. Chris has more good days than bad just to be replaced with me having less good days. Our car broke down and its been written off with no free funds to be able to get a new one. All minor things that are slowly sucking away all of the Hope I have. 

So, I simply decided to disappear. I needed to walk away. I don’t know if this is a random post. I don’t know if I’ll write again next week or six months from now. I’m not making any promises either way. I feel like I have to find myself and my purpose again and I don’t know how long it will take. For now, I leave you this post and the choice of whether you still want to stick around or not. 

I made the mistake of reading the comments on an article that once again was about Kim Kardashian complaining about her pregnancy.

I should preface and say that I hate that woman, the family she comes from and the fact that if you ever open up the internet for any period of time, they are all you damn well see and that’s what they want.

But I made the mistake of reading the comments.

I came under fire for it there and I’ll probably will again here. But the difference is that its my blog and I can write whatever I want and not care who I piss off.

I wish that woman would just shut the eff up. Like seriously. And the comments section is just a bunch of women getting off on each other and their own complaints about pregnancy and their children. I get it, you got to have a baby. And you want to do nothing but complain about how you got the baby and the kid now that you have to live with it. You wanna complain about how difficult it was to deal with that pregnancy and how hard it was and how the child won’t sleep through the night. But the rest of us either don’t fucking care or hate you with every fiber of our being because we would legit sell our god damn souls for a taste of the hard pregnancy, the bloat, the non-stop puking or the kid not sleeping, attitude problem or any shitty experience. Why? Because it meant that a child was growing in us, that we had a child to love and call our own.

Kim K, as a word from an infertile woman, please shut the eff up. Please. You chose this. You chose to have another baby after the apparent “hell” you went through with the first baby. If it was such hell, why didn’t you go with a surrogate, or use any other means to make this an easier goal for yourself? You certainly have enough money for any option and enough money to pay for treatments for every single woman on the planet who is dealing with infertility. You made your choice and you get a baby out of it so please shut up and live with your choice. This is just a sad attempt to keep yourself relevant in the media cause that’s how you make money, by staying in the media spotlight.

/end rant

Infertile women, just don’t read the comments on any articles about Kim K complaining about her pregnancy.

The Guiding year is in full swing. And the running joke in Guiding is that we all started cause they told us it would be an hour a week. Don’t let my sarcasm fool you though, cause I freaking love Guiding just as the 10+ hours of Guiding work I’ve clocked in at this week alone. My schedule proves it. I’ve neglected everything but Guiding over the past few weeks. And I’m a busy girl. Our girls don’t start back until late September, but our work starts early. Our District meeting was last week and it kicked off the whole start of our Guiding year.

On the unit level, one of our leaders has decided to take a break from Guiding and she was our contact guider. This information came about a week ago and now the rest of us are scrambling to get the year started on time. I’ve been thrust into the role of contact guider and taking over finances and paperwork when I’ve never handled that part before. I’m the equivalent of a deer in headlights. But the leaders are circling the wagons and we plan to sort it all out together so the work is even between us. So we’re sorting through the bins of supplies and boxes of paperwork our previous Contact Guider had and trying to organize it in a system that will work for us. I’m working on welcome letters, making sure all the paperwork we need for start of year is prepared, contacting the owners of our meeting place to verify that we still have the space this year.

On the District level, I took up my post as District Secretary again. I enjoy the job. My District Commissioner has already started to prepare me to step in as DC when she finishes her term. Which is exciting. I look forward to the challenge. District is also gracious enough to set up a Financial training session for me and a handful of other Guiders new to the finance side of it.

On the Area level, I was asked to attend Area Council meetings as a non-voting member. My role as Social Media Adviser for the province is a great opportunity for me to get our area more active in PR and we can make more of a presence on the provincial level. Our Area Commissioner is wonderful to work with and I got to really get to know her when we traveled together for National Conference. I truly enjoy working with her. So I jumped at the chance when she asked as we share the same vision for Guiding in our area. We want Cape Breton better represented at the provincial level.

I also completed my UAL (Understanding Adult Learning) training on the 1st. This is my first step in becoming a registered and qualified Trainer for Girl Guides. And it was a great training experience. I look forward to becoming a qualified trainer with GGC.

On the Provincial level, I get to continue my work as Provincial Social Media Adviser. Which is interesting. My job is to promote Guiding and get information out to our members and their parents through our official social media platforms: Facebook, Email and Twitter. We are hoping to add an Instagram account to that after our advisers meeting mid-September.

Plus I love that I get to travel with Girl Guides. I’m still working towards international travel but I have to get more camping experience in with the older girls. But in the meantime, I travel a couple of times a year to our provincial Guide House. In September I get to go to my first Provincial Advisers Meeting and catch up with all of my friends who are on Provincial Council and really get to find my groove in my role as an adviser. And this year is conference year! Every two years, our province holds a provincial conference on the mainland. Its a whole weekend of sessions aimed to make us better guiders. We spend the day learning and building our training and we spend the night catching up with friends we haven’t seen in awhile. My first conference was in my first year as a full member and I loved it. I was still unsure of myself, and it gave me the chance to meet others and open myself up to new possibilities. After travelling for National Conference this past April, and working with the people that run our national organization, I’m so ready to go to conference confident and ready to not only learn, but to share with others as well. Because of my adviser position, the head of PR emailed me and asked if I was willing to co-present at the social media session while I was there. It takes me out of the financial session I was looking forward to, but I really want to share what I’ve learned and co-leading a session sounds amazing. Plus, its my first chance to really see if training is something I really see myself doing.

So needless to say, I’m busy, I’m stressed and everything is happening at once. I chose this for myself, all of this, but the start and end of year always means a busy schedule. It will thankfully all even out by the time we hit October. But then again, even if it didn’t, I would do this and more because I truly love what I do. Girl Guides brings me too much joy to really get down or annoyed with a crazy September and June.

Hi, long time no see. 

I’ve been busy, but I have no real excuse to explain my absence. I’ve felt the need to pull away and I don’t like that. But I’ve come to a realization, as another round of my infertility friends announce their pregnancies. I feel like I’m on a countdown. A countdown to the end of a friendship. 

Because let’s be honest. This isn’t my first time at the rodeo. I’ve been circled and recircled by some of my infertile friends. It’s been 6.5 years. No moving forward, no money for the next step and no child to show for it. I once again feel like it’s just not in our cards and that it will never happen. That feeling is mostly coming from my hormones and the oncoming CD1. But one thing I can always count on are others that I consider friends, get pregnant, spend the nine months talking about their pregnancy and sharing all of it with the IF world, make the big birth announcement, make a couple of monthly updates and then proceed to disappear and forget the people who supported them through this. 

This isn’t an every time situation, but the percentage is high. I’d say 80%, easily. I’ve watched too many people claim to be my friend, offer support through their struggle and then walk away from everyone like we didn’t matter once they resolved. Sure some stick around but never talk about anything other than their child, they never talk about other parts of their life, and can leave a bitter taste in the mouth of people still fighting. 

Is it wise to keep the world of infertility separate from the rest of your life? I’ve never separated the two as I talk regularly about both infertility and the rest of my life in this blog. Why separate one part of my life from the rest as one interacts with the rest, it’s woven into everything in my life. What happens when that part of your life changes? That’s a situation that a lot of people find themselves in when they resolve their infertility. And I don’t think people think of what happens to the people who support you when you resolve. Do you leave those people and disappear from that world without caring what happened to the others, who are still fighting their battles? Do you just let them fend for themselves? Why do you see the need to separate yourself? Is what you went through so embarrassing to you that you can’t bare to stay and support those that have been there for you. 

The longer I’m here and the longer I live this, I wonder if it’s worth it because so few of the people who started this journey with me have stayed, or bothered to continue supporting me. Do they see me as a lost cause and cut their ties, or do they simply not know where or how to fit in anymore? Some people stay and manage to do it, as their blogs become what mine is, a life in general blog. Some make the transition, others just gradually stop posting, while others make a dramatic “this is my last post” exit and we never hear from them again. They leave no way to communicate with them. 

I hate it. I become so invested in the lives of those in this circle. So when they up and leave, I sometimes can’t help but take it personally. I think it’s a major contributing factor to my lack of commenting. Cause it stings. It hurts. I try to pretend it doesn’t but I wear my heart on my sleeve. Do I, and others still fighting, mean so little that you just walk away like we don’t matter anymore. 

Maybe it’s the surge of hormones talking, maybe it’s not. 

I’m just sick of “friends” disappearing on me. I just can’t help but start the countdown clock when someone announces their pregnancy. I don’t dread that birth, it’s the abandonment that usually follows it.