Where has the year gone?

Gosh golly gosh, it is October, it is my birthday month. The anxiety that comes with turning another year older with no baby has struck on and off. It’s so hard. Having a look at my very old previous post, I realize how very angry I was and it makes me sad. Since then we have had at least 4 more pregnancy announcements in our midst. Since then I have relented and gone on anti-depressants. And what a difference it has made. In a good way, I just feel a bit like I can cope again, things still hurt, but I don’t feel like I have no hope and I don’t have that heavy emotional feeling clouding my brain.

We have decided to look at trying again next year (IVF), I am anxious about this but trying to not be. Not sure how we will afford it, because frankly it’s not affordable, frankly since we’ve made the decision I am beyond caring how we pay for it, I just know that we have to try again.

I have begun to pray again. I just reached a point that we need to keep praying until something happens, because something will happen, I just hope that I can keep on keeping on.


When Facebook Hurts

Ah social media, how you have failed my broken heart time and time again. Not just in the fertile arena but in the life arena. People can be mean. I am mean, but mostly I don’t put it out into the social media world because the repercussions are disastrous. Yes, I’m still mean, but behind closed doors, so that probably makes me two faced, but I know why I do it, I do it because I’m hurting and it helps me build my little iron castle around my heart because if I can see your faults I don’t have to feel so bad about not wanting to be anywhere near you because you make me hurt. And also I don’t like to be mean to your face because frankly I actually hate hurting people’s feelings because I turn it back on me and realise what a terrible person I am and so the cycle continues. I know what it’s like to be hurt, intentionally or unintentionally. I too have been the victim of other people’s meanness because they were hurting and it helped them hurt less by unleashing meanness on those around them.

Which brings me back to Facebook, you mean cold-hearted bitch. Yeah that is what I think about you, you allow people to post their happiness on there and it just destroys me time and time again. Okay so I sound like the Grinch, maybe I am the Grinch? I am no ray of sunshine I can assure you, but I don’t really want to be the Grinch either. I know everyone has a right to share their happiness publicly, I just don’t have to be a witness to it. So I should just close my Facebook account, but that’s so hard because I like to stalk 😦 It’s true, don’t deny it, most are guilty of it. So now days when I see a pregnancy announcement I just un-follow. It has served me well, except every time I see a new pregnancy announcement because I had to see that and it sucks and then only can I un-follow you. I wish I could install a setting that allowed Facebook to protect me from unwanted news. It’s stupid I know, eventually I will find out because there’s just no way around it. Would it be easier just to find out when you have the baby? Hmmm, probably not. I am a wimp, I should just close my damn account.

I want to be one of those people that says, “When it’s my turn I won’t post updates etc., I’ll be more sensitive”, but really I can’t say that, because I just don’t know that it’s true. Which leads me to thinking, do people who are sick, I mean life-threatening sick, get annoyed at people going on about their happy lives? Because frankly I can get that, and also how they would probably be so annoyed at me moaning about this when at least I’m alive and not sick, well not so sick that my life is being threatened.

Anyhoo, this was just a babble, because lately that is what I do. I’m so sorry if I have un-followed any of my nearby friends but it really just hurts too much, and I’m sorry if you think I’m selfish, you just have no idea how much my heart is hurting.

Sunshine and big fat nothings

It’s an absolutely gorgeous day, sunshine and Friday, the two were made for each other! Just putting that out there 🙂

I’ve noticed recently people don’t write for a variety of different reasons, a) either something is happening and you just want to keep it quiet until you know everything is looking good then you can share or b) nothing is happening or c) nothing is happening, but your really believed something was going to happen and now you’re devastated and not wanting to share with anyone because you’re going to bring everyone down.

Okay not really sure if that applies to anyone, but it applies to me. I have nothing to write most days, I get up and go through the motions, I am living my days again, but with a fear that more hard knocks are always on the way. I don’t give myself too much time to really contemplate this mode of thought.

Admittedly I’ve been pretty mellow lately, I almost feel like I’m okay, but for how long I don’t know. Until the next pregnancy announcement? I don’t know. Part of me has just been living without hope, just acceptance that whatever was going to be was going to be. That in the end I’d see the bigger picture, that yes, “God was in control” and even though I have been mad and confused with Him, I still knew that he had the map all laid out and he could still see my course being plotted.

That doesn’t make it any easier, I poke around on WordPress and Facebook, see the pregnancy updates, and also the women who I know to be struggling in this same blasted mess we’re in and I wonder why oh why is this so unfair? Why are some getting happy endings but here we are and big fat nothing. A whole lot of big fat nothings. The women who post on a daily basis, going through hell, but still going through and being able to post encouragement to others daily? These women blow my itty bitty mind. How? how do you stay so positive for yourself and others? how is your faith so grounded? and where has mine gone?


Waiting for Baby Bird

Tabitha praying in church

I’m not going to cry…I’m not going to cry…I’m not going to cry.  And I didn’t.  Or at least not for the first five minutes after hearing she was pregnant.  Again.  And with her fourth.  But despite my best efforts to pull myself together, the tears poured out of me and the despicable ugly cry came.  You know the cry ladies.  It’s a recipe of alligator tears mixed with snot everywhere, while your face is beat red and you make horrible facial expressions all while trying to not hyperventilate.  Like I said, it’s ugly.

And I wasn’t prepared for it. 

Because most days, walking through infertility isn’t so hard for me anymore.  It was something I thought I had come to peace with and had faith to believe would change.  At least one day it would.  And I thought it was something that no longer made me jealous of…

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When the going gets tough we keep going, and going, and going

The title says it all, every time something happens and you’re like, “this is the worst thing that could have happened now I can’t do this”, you (for the most part) seem to manage to get it together just to function until actually you’re maybe enjoying life again, and then the next thing comes along and pushes you back and the cycle starts all over again.

I went to see a psychologist and she explained it so well; it’s like you’re on a ship and wave hits, maybe a few minor ones at first, so you manage to do just about fix any damage, but then the next hits, now there’s more damage that you start repairing but you don’t manage to finish the repairs and before you know it a tidal wave has just about take you completely out, maybe now you’re treading water been smacked clean off that ship.

I thought I was making the repairs after the tidal wave, but today I realized I think I’m just treading water. I’ve probably said that before and I’ll probably say it again. I have picked myself up after every disappointment and kept on going, for what I’m not sure, because really there are days when I just feel inadequate to be living this life.

Being on birth control after the failed IVF, I was completely without hope, it was a dark and sad place, so without consulting my Dr I stopped taking them, probably a moronic thing to do, but I needed to feel like there was hope. I decided I would give whatever I could a try and even if it does nothing for my fertility I will feel like I have tried. Problem is I forgot what it’s like to hope every month and have those hopes dashed just as quickly. Is there no way to protect my heart from my mind? What am I doing?

Am I really loved?

Recently upon learning of a friends pregnancy I have begun to question whether I am really loved or not, by God that is. This has nothing to do with the friend, only the fact that she is pregnant and if our IVF had actually bothered to work our pregnancies would have been the same in weeks. I then also discovered the due date is two days after what would have been our due date for our ectopic pregnancy. I know a lot of people would read this and think, Really? get over it, it’s just a date. But really, to me it is not. Most people who have experienced any kind of loss associate dates with that loss.

Admittedly it’s 3 years since our ectopic, I too would also like to not remember but you know that old saying of “We’re our own worst enemy”? So let me get back to the point of this pity party, upon learning of this information I was like really God? Like I’m not having enough of a hard time struggling with this as it is, the dates have to align too? Now I can have a constant reminder of how I am a failure of a woman, not able to do the most basic of woman things, have a baby. Am I being punished? We preach that God doesn’t punish, but we have to accept the consequences of our actions but I’m not really so sure, of course He punishes, surely? Maybe by not intervening, He is punishing? I’m so confused and pretty sure God can’t possibly love me at this stage because I am a foul-mouthed, bitchy failure.

Please feel free to judge me, I am. Me with the big mouth about trusting and having faith blah blah blah. If this was a test I have failed it so badly that really I will have to go 3 grades back.

I so badly want to call up my GP for an appointment because I know he’ll give me the anti-depressants, but I don’t want to because of the 2kg’s I picked up since last seeing him in November, I’m ashamed and he will moan at me and I moan at me enough. Really I think I just don’t want to give in, I know that most days I’m okay but on days like this when I feel too much, I want to blanket my little heart with bubble wrap.

A tender heart that needs to heal

The other day I heard this little 5 year old call his mom, Mamma and I was so totally enamoured of how gorgeous those words sounded coming out of this little kids mouth. It however reminded me how much my heart longs to hear those words said to me. Which brings me to why I’ve decided to take a temporary (hopefully) hiatus from our church family. If you know me, these are not easy words to say, I feel like a traitor walking away and I don’t walk away very easily. This is not to say that I will never return just that at the moment my heart is too fragile and being around these people who have shared most of this journey with us, who love me in spite of a lot of things, is just too painful. It reminds me that I am broken. It reminds me that I have monsterishly ugly thoughts of people that I love.

Our church is small, a large percentage of the women are either already moms, about to be moms, or planning to be moms. At the moment this is too much for me to bear. I have ugly thoughts and it in turn makes me feel ugly. I want people to be on my “side”, which I know as a rational adult, is complete hogwash, but unfortunately this is what happens. I understand how moms must love being moms, how about to be moms must be ecstatic, how planning to be moms must be so excited. And it sucks that I can’t share in that with people I care about, but you have no idea how much it feels like your joy is my death sentence. And I can’t explain that to people that don’t understand, I’m really sorry if I sound selfish and horrible but the truth is, I’m not, I’m just feeling some very raw emotions and to save us all I feel the need to protect myself and what is left of my friendships by removing myself from these very painful circumstances.

I may be okay in a month, and I will return to reality, I may not be, but I am looking out for myself and my marriage at the moment. Thankfully my husband understands and I thought for sure this was going to be a fight. It’s not fair for him to have to put up with me crying at home all the time because of a broken heart. I don’t mean I never cry at home, but I will say that the last two weeks have been a lot easier without feeling the pressure of having to do what needs to be done. I’m pretty sure I put that pressure on myself, yet another reason why I am trying so hard to take it easy on me. I don’t know if any of this makes sense, I don’t know if what I’m doing is the “wrong” way to cope or adjust, but the rational part of me knows that there is no “wrong” way, you do what you have to do to make it through the day. I do know there is a line into depression, and thankfully at this point I can still say I haven’t crossed the line. I really do feel the need to heal at this point and I’m doing it the only way I know how.


Danger, danger, life actually thrives on the lemons

So it’s 2015 already, how completely I am not interested in this year. The anger that was missing from my last post has hit with a vengeance. Now I feel like a monster ready to eat hope and prosperity. I am jealous of other people’s hope. It’s a really horrible place to be in. I’ve read so many blogs about dealing with the aftermath of failed ivf cycles and how they don’t like who they have become etc. I now understand. I haven’t liked who I have been a lot of the time since we started trying, it’s normal to feel rage at other people’s pregnancy news, sorrow almost all the time, sadness with the defeat and so on. This process seems to have put all those feelings on crack and turned me into the crazy lady. I do, do a pretty good job of disguising the crazy so you only see the sad but in my head I feel crazy, crazy sad, crazy angry, crazy depressed, crazy defeated.

It feels like I have a year of no hope to look forward to, do you know what that looks like? It’s bleak and dark and lonely. I don’t feel like hearing any crap that I’m wallowing because that is what I’m doing but I know I will move on from the wallowing when I am ready and a little bit healed. I am tired of people who think they have all the answers when you just don’t. I appreciate the people who don’t know what to say. I never want to hear this didn’t work because I wasn’t positive enough, do you know what an absolute load of bull that is? Do you think things happen based on your attitude towards making them happen? Yes maybe buying a house, but that’s not a miraculous conception we’re talking about. We’re talking about a baby. Since babies are born of one night stands and the dreaded “oopsie” and I’m pretty sure 98% of those role player are not full of positivity to fall pregnant, don’t tell me this didn’t happen because I wasn’t positive enough, don’t even think it. Apparently I read minds too.

So with my shattered heart I am trying to keep my head above water and most days it looks like I’m doing a good job of it. All of this is crap is not fair, and I so hate that bloody word, fair. Nothing is fair, tell that to all the brokenness in this world, nothing is fair you just have to deal with it and live the best life you can. Not sure who I’m more pissed at, God, Adam and Eve or myself. I hate writing those words. I hate being angry at anybody else, let alone my Creator, so I’ll be angry at myself but at the same time I’m thinking that I feel like the kid who hasn’t gotten that overseas trip to Disney that his parents were dangling before him because they just didn’t feel the time was right because maybe he’s not mature enough, responsible enough or they just had an uneasy feeling about it. The kid doesn’t understand at all and is shattered because he was banking on it, he had the hope and now it is gone. 10/20years later that kid will know that his parents did the right thing, he wasn’t ready at that time. Hindsight is a phenomenal thing. So I think what I’m saying is the only hope I have is that God knows what He’s doing. Don’t be fooled by that sentence though, as I’m writing it I am fighting against it, because it’s a bitter pill to swallow, it’s hard to accept, because I just don’t understand what the hell is the point of all this heartbreak.

This is a disease brought on by life, the general deterioration of the quality of life. This is soul destroying, woman and man destroying and why does it happen to the people who actually want to have kids? I know, why do people get sick is a whole other line of the same thinking. My answer is normally because we live in a broken world, but you know what, that answer sucks.


It’s been so long since I felt like putting any words in print but today was a day that brought a few things to light.

We’ve had 2 rounds of IVF or 1.3 rounds to be precise as the first round was cancelled on cd11 due to poor response. The second was a bust, which we promptly found out just as my annual leave started. I had done a home test and was relatively certain it was going to be negative and in hindsight I’m glad I had advanced warning, I honestly don’t know how people can cope with a phone call on D-Day. By that time I had already cried my heart out and starting with the journey of acceptance.

I only had about 3 follicles on the first round and as I have an above average AMH the Dr. did not want to proceed and with such a poor result. The second round oral meds were added and there was a slightly better response, at some point it looked like there were 8 follicles (still not great, but enough to continue). On the day of collection we only got 5, 2 abnormal and 3 to fertilize, of which only 2 did fertilize. They implanted 2, 2day embryo’s, 1-2cell and 1-4cell. As previously mentioned, BFN.

As nothing is covered by our wonderful medical aids in this country, we were only going to do the one round. Then today happened and you know maybe there is still this teeny tiny glimmer of hope. We sat with our Dr., who really is gifted with enormous medical talent but also just in people skills. He didn’t try to sell us a whole cock and bull story, he just said “Don’t give up, please don’t lose hope”. He told us what he thinks the problem is and gave us the next possible route to follow. He knows financially I had already made up my mind there was no way to finance something that was/is a gamble, and he just encouraged us to save rather than finance because it’s a gamble. I have to respect this enormously, this is not a Dr. wanting you to sell your kidneys on the black market just in order for him to line his pockets. This is a Dr. who wants us to have our dreams fulfilled of having a baby.

I’ve been pretty no where in the last week, just not knowing what to do from here, but so not ready to throw in the towel. I don’t know how long it will take us to save but I know this is what we try to do and we will keep praying that God will make a way.

One of things that has really helped me keep it together is just being appreciative of our marriage, the people in our lives and mostly the God we serve, the God we love. I was so scared I was going to be angry again, but in the end, I’m still sad and disappointed but something in my heart has changed, I believe God knows what he is doing and I may struggle with the absolute trusting but in the end it’s what gives me the comfort to face another day.


October October October

We started IVF and I didn’t feel like writing about it while we were going through it. Then it got cancelled on CD11. Now I am processing.

I have a good egg reserve, I have good lining, however my ovaries don’t like to be stimulated it appears. Next month we will try different hormones and see if we have a better response, otherwise the Dr. said we will just go ahead. I only had 4 follicles on my left ovary and he said he wanted at least 10. I agree. But that doesn’t stop the disappointment. I turn 31 in 6 days. So as I face another birthday I’m wondering how much more I can take or how much longer can I fight? These are rhetorical questions, I know I’ll pick myself up, dust me off, and start again. We can only afford to do one round of IVF though, and of course now we’ve used some of the money on drugs that didn’t work, I know one could have known that though, so anyway we will figure out the shortfall and at least it won’t be as bad as the whole amount so we can still do this.

I hate that I take such a long time to process stuff, I was so sad on Saturday, but it wasn’t long and I felt okay. Sunday I was sad for a bit but then just had such a great day. Then Monday I was okay, I was mildly happy, by Monday afternoon darkness was creeping in, and well that leads me to this morning where all I really want to do is curl up into a little ball and cry.

There is so much more going on here though and I can’t get it all out and I don’t want to put some of it into print, but anyone who has gone through this will know how I’m feeling, and all the jumble of negatives running through my mind. I am tired.

On Sunday we celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving in South Africa, thanks to the fact that we have a Canadian friend. We celebrated our church being commissioned as a fully fledged church. It was a good day. Sunday made me realise how very blessed I am by friendships and family, and of course just by the fact that we serve an awesome God, who I don’t understand, but a Father who loves me unconditionally and without fail, even when I am a brat. That’s pretty awesome. I realised that something I have learnt this past year is that there will always be storms, but no matter the duration or severity, the sun will shine again.