The tears come, and you are back at square one:

Heartbroken
Overwhelmed
In Shock
Missing Her
In Denial
Feeling Robbed
In Pain
Stuck
Angry
Shattered

I miss the way things used to be...

The tears come, and you are back at square one:

Heartbroken
Overwhelmed
In Shock
Missing Her
In Denial
Feeling Robbed
In Pain
Stuck
Angry
Shattered

I miss the way things used to be...

How can I sum up all that you meant to me? If I gathered all the words of every tongue spoken in this world, would I find the right ones to properly describe the change you have instilled in me? Would I do justice to your life? To all you went through? To all you have meant to me? In this world, so limited, do the right words even exist?

I would like to send a huge thank you out to Franchesca for creating from so much pain, something so beautiful. Thank you Franchesca for helping me honor Peyton with this collage. There is no way to properly describe what it feels like to know that another mother has taken time out from her own grief, to create a tribute for your child. This gift has really touched my heart.

I encourage everyone to check out the great work Franchesca is doing over at Abiding Hope Collages.

I remember when Franchesca first offered to make me this collage a few months back, well, the task felt overwhelming. How could I possibly come up with the right words? In seeing them displayed here, these words, though not all that I am feeling in my heart about my daughter, do bring me a sense of peace.

James Earl Jones once said,

"One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter."

I invite you all to leave a comment, with a word, or two, or more, that sums up your current journey (loss, infertility, life). Good, bad, happy, sad, grateful, angry, it doesn't matter. Find a word that fits how you are feeling now. Get it out there.

I know. Sounds impossible right?

Give it a try. Who knows? Maybe getting out even just one (or some) of the words your heart needs to utter will bring you the same sense of peace/moment of relief that seeing the words on this collage brought to me.

How can I sum up all that you meant to me? If I gathered all the words of every tongue spoken in this world, would I find the right ones to properly describe the change you have instilled in me? Would I do justice to your life? To all you went through? To all you have meant to me? In this world, so limited, do the right words even exist?

I would like to send a huge thank you out to Franchesca for creating from so much pain, something so beautiful. Thank you Franchesca for helping me honor Peyton with this collage. There is no way to properly describe what it feels like to know that another mother has taken time out from her own grief, to create a tribute for your child. This gift has really touched my heart.

I encourage everyone to check out the great work Franchesca is doing over at Abiding Hope Collages.

I remember when Franchesca first offered to make me this collage a few months back, well, the task felt overwhelming. How could I possibly come up with the right words? In seeing them displayed here, these words, though not all that I am feeling in my heart about my daughter, do bring me a sense of peace.

James Earl Jones once said,

"One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter."

I invite you all to leave a comment, with a word, or two, or more, that sums up your current journey (loss, infertility, life). Good, bad, happy, sad, grateful, angry, it doesn't matter. Find a word that fits how you are feeling now. Get it out there.

I know. Sounds impossible right?

Give it a try. Who knows? Maybe getting out even just one (or some) of the words your heart needs to utter will bring you the same sense of peace/moment of relief that seeing the words on this collage brought to me.

I wonder if all aspiring authors have to stop writing mid chapter to chase their escaped dog up and down the snowy street in their pajamas?

For show and tell, I give you Charlotte... the guilty party.

Here is a picture of her tuckered out from her great run up and down, and back and forth, and across, and in figure eights in my neighborhood.

And here she is telling me what she thinks of my writing...Such a critic!

To see what others are showing and telling, go visit Mel here.

I wonder if all aspiring authors have to stop writing mid chapter to chase their escaped dog up and down the snowy street in their pajamas?

For show and tell, I give you Charlotte... the guilty party.

Here is a picture of her tuckered out from her great run up and down, and back and forth, and across, and in figure eights in my neighborhood.

And here she is telling me what she thinks of my writing...Such a critic!

To see what others are showing and telling, go visit Mel here.

It's no secret to anyone who reads this blog that I go to therapy. Losing Peyton was really hard on me, not just the trauma of having a sick child, or the trauma of watching her suffer. Not just the trauma of making very tough decisions, or the trauma of watching how they played out. Not just the trauma of losing my child, or the trauma of watching her struggle and die in my arms. All of it. The guilt, the grief, the anger, the questioning, the loss of my sense of self, the PTSD, the depression, the insomnia. All of it came down like a house of cards over the month of Peyton's life, and death, and I feel grateful to have recognized that it was too much for me to do on my own. I am not advocating for therapy, I just know that for me, it was the right decision.

I speak with a woman who deals specifically with traumatic loss and PTSD, and it has really, really helped me. I feel no shame in sharing this because there is no shame in seeking help when you need it, and anyone who makes you feel that there is, probably a) has never walked in your shoes, and b) is not a healing person to have around you at this already difficult time. Honestly. This world that we have been thrust into can feel so big, so impossible to conquer. If there is one thing I am proud of myself for in how I have handled all that has happened (miscarriage, child loss, subsequent infertility) it is that I knew I needed help, and regardless of what I thought people might think, I got it.

Throughout the last year plus, my therapist has brought many little tidbits and techniques to my attention to try out. Some of them are pretty involved, and difficult to explain, but on my last visit she shared a technique with me that I thought might help you too. It is called PAGL, and I am going to give you the Reader's Digest version below.

I read alot of babyloss momma's blogs talking about how tough certain decisions can be to make.

"Should I go visit my child at the cemetery?" 

"Should I not?" 

"Should I try to conceive again?" 

"How do I know if it is the right time?" 

"Should I return to work?" 

"Should I move and start over somewhere else?" 

"Should I continue this friendship with someone who I have known for years but really hasn't been there for me since my loss?" 

"Should I share the news of a new pregnancy?" 

"Should we wait until the baby is here and alive to share the news?"

Etc. Etc. 

You get the point. As if grief weren't messy and difficult enough, it sometimes feels so magnified by the questions that swirl in our heads, especially if there is the added burden of feeling pressure to do what those around you think you should do. Or, what you think they think you should do.

What my therapist shared with me is called The PAGL Technique. It was developed by Dr. Thomas Hora, and I am sure what I know about this technique is very basic, but if you go and google it, you can get more in depth information.

PAGL stands for Peace Assurance Gratitude Love.

Basically, the way it was explained to me, is that PAGL is a way to pray on each of these issues and come to a decision that is right for you. When I say prayer, I don't mean religious prayer, more of a meditation, however if doing this through religious prayer helps, by all means do what feels right.

When an issue plagues your mind, for instance

"I just lost my child, and we have been invited to a party where there will be other children..."

close your eyes, think about the situation at hand, and pay close attention to how your body and mind respond to it. If it is the right thing for you (and the right thing to do by society's standards, and the right thing for you are two totally different things and that is okay, this is about what is right for you) so if it is the right thing to do, it should bring into your heart a sense of Peace Assurance Gratitude and Love. The idea being that if you feel PAGL about a certain decision you are making, you can feel confident that it is the right one for you. If you don't feel PAGL, something in your body, the universe, your mind, I don't know, is telling you to move in a different direction.

Since entering this new world of IVF, alot of questions have been thrown our way.

"What to do with frozen embryos?" 

"Would we be willing to freeze embryos?"

"Would we be comfortable with assisted hatching?"

"Are we comfortable with the process of IVF itself?"

Each of these questions/situations can veer off in several different directions, and I have been quietly, prayerfully reflecting on each, closing my mind and body off to what I think others would think of them  (whether they would judge them, support them, condemn them, push them) and instead searching for whichever option brings me the deepest sense of Peace Assurance Gratitude and Love.

I am certainly no expert on PAGL, and don't claim to be one, but really it makes total sense that the right decision would be that which feels right. 

I know that the readers of this blog come from all walks of life. Babyloss, Infertility, Life in General, and that is why I thought this would be such a good technique to share, because searching for answers that bring the most Peace Assurance Gratitude and Love into your heart is helpful, regardless of the situation.

It's no secret to anyone who reads this blog that I go to therapy. Losing Peyton was really hard on me, not just the trauma of having a sick child, or the trauma of watching her suffer. Not just the trauma of making very tough decisions, or the trauma of watching how they played out. Not just the trauma of losing my child, or the trauma of watching her struggle and die in my arms. All of it. The guilt, the grief, the anger, the questioning, the loss of my sense of self, the PTSD, the depression, the insomnia. All of it came down like a house of cards over the month of Peyton's life, and death, and I feel grateful to have recognized that it was too much for me to do on my own. I am not advocating for therapy, I just know that for me, it was the right decision.

I speak with a woman who deals specifically with traumatic loss and PTSD, and it has really, really helped me. I feel no shame in sharing this because there is no shame in seeking help when you need it, and anyone who makes you feel that there is, probably a) has never walked in your shoes, and b) is not a healing person to have around you at this already difficult time. Honestly. This world that we have been thrust into can feel so big, so impossible to conquer. If there is one thing I am proud of myself for in how I have handled all that has happened (miscarriage, child loss, subsequent infertility) it is that I knew I needed help, and regardless of what I thought people might think, I got it.

Throughout the last year plus, my therapist has brought many little tidbits and techniques to my attention to try out. Some of them are pretty involved, and difficult to explain, but on my last visit she shared a technique with me that I thought might help you too. It is called PAGL, and I am going to give you the Reader's Digest version below.

I read alot of babyloss momma's blogs talking about how tough certain decisions can be to make.

"Should I go visit my child at the cemetery?" 

"Should I not?" 

"Should I try to conceive again?" 

"How do I know if it is the right time?" 

"Should I return to work?" 

"Should I move and start over somewhere else?" 

"Should I continue this friendship with someone who I have known for years but really hasn't been there for me since my loss?" 

"Should I share the news of a new pregnancy?" 

"Should we wait until the baby is here and alive to share the news?"

Etc. Etc. 

You get the point. As if grief weren't messy and difficult enough, it sometimes feels so magnified by the questions that swirl in our heads, especially if there is the added burden of feeling pressure to do what those around you think you should do. Or, what you think they think you should do.

What my therapist shared with me is called The PAGL Technique. It was developed by Dr. Thomas Hora, and I am sure what I know about this technique is very basic, but if you go and google it, you can get more in depth information.

PAGL stands for Peace Assurance Gratitude Love.

Basically, the way it was explained to me, is that PAGL is a way to pray on each of these issues and come to a decision that is right for you. When I say prayer, I don't mean religious prayer, more of a meditation, however if doing this through religious prayer helps, by all means do what feels right.

When an issue plagues your mind, for instance

"I just lost my child, and we have been invited to a party where there will be other children..."

close your eyes, think about the situation at hand, and pay close attention to how your body and mind respond to it. If it is the right thing for you (and the right thing to do by society's standards, and the right thing for you are two totally different things and that is okay, this is about what is right for you) so if it is the right thing to do, it should bring into your heart a sense of Peace Assurance Gratitude and Love. The idea being that if you feel PAGL about a certain decision you are making, you can feel confident that it is the right one for you. If you don't feel PAGL, something in your body, the universe, your mind, I don't know, is telling you to move in a different direction.

Since entering this new world of IVF, alot of questions have been thrown our way.

"What to do with frozen embryos?" 

"Would we be willing to freeze embryos?"

"Would we be comfortable with assisted hatching?"

"Are we comfortable with the process of IVF itself?"

Each of these questions/situations can veer off in several different directions, and I have been quietly, prayerfully reflecting on each, closing my mind and body off to what I think others would think of them  (whether they would judge them, support them, condemn them, push them) and instead searching for whichever option brings me the deepest sense of Peace Assurance Gratitude and Love.

I am certainly no expert on PAGL, and don't claim to be one, but really it makes total sense that the right decision would be that which feels right. 

I know that the readers of this blog come from all walks of life. Babyloss, Infertility, Life in General, and that is why I thought this would be such a good technique to share, because searching for answers that bring the most Peace Assurance Gratitude and Love into your heart is helpful, regardless of the situation.

I just read that Adrianna passed this morning.

Cancer sucks. It is greedy, cruel, and merciless.

It has no regard for it's victims, or their families.

Please keep her parents in your thoughts for strength and healing.

I just read that Adrianna passed this morning.

Cancer sucks. It is greedy, cruel, and merciless.

It has no regard for it's victims, or their families.

Please keep her parents in your thoughts for strength and healing.

Some time ago, I came across a link through another blogger to the caringbridge page of a brave little girl named Adrianna. Like so many others, I began praying for this little girl and her family, cheering her on for a miracle. Adrianna's story, and that of her incredibly strong parents, has really resonated with me. Like Peyton, this brave little girl has been unfairly forced into battle with cancer. Like us, her parents have been unfairly forced into watching their daughter suffer.

Adrianna's mother wrote a post tonight that hit me like a ton of bricks. Before I could stop them, tears were flowing. She wrote: "Please grant her a miracle or let her go to live with you, in peace...We don't want to watch her suffer anymore." 

These words were especially difficult to read, because they immediately brought me back to a moment not long ago. A moment where I sat on my bed, crying to the crucifix on my wall, desperately begging God through tears to please do the same for my sweet Peyton. "If you won't let us keep her," I would scream, "Please take her quickly. She's already suffered so much. Please, please take her quickly."

It breaks my heart to see another family going through this level of devastation and loss. To be forced into a situation where it is so painful to watch what your child is going through, that you actually ask God to take her. I will never understand why so many families have to watch their children suffer and die. Never.

Adrianna has taken a turn for the worse and I ask any readers of this blog to please keep her in your hearts for a miracle tonight, and as you do, please remember her parents in your hearts for strength as well. Strength to endure whatever it is that the morning may bring.

Here is a link to her site:
http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/adriannacavanagh/mystory

Some time ago, I came across a link through another blogger to the caringbridge page of a brave little girl named Adrianna. Like so many others, I began praying for this little girl and her family, cheering her on for a miracle. Adrianna's story, and that of her incredibly strong parents, has really resonated with me. Like Peyton, this brave little girl has been unfairly forced into battle with cancer. Like us, her parents have been unfairly forced into watching their daughter suffer.

Adrianna's mother wrote a post tonight that hit me like a ton of bricks. Before I could stop them, tears were flowing. She wrote: "Please grant her a miracle or let her go to live with you, in peace...We don't want to watch her suffer anymore." 

These words were especially difficult to read, because they immediately brought me back to a moment not long ago. A moment where I sat on my bed, crying to the crucifix on my wall, desperately begging God through tears to please do the same for my sweet Peyton. "If you won't let us keep her," I would scream, "Please take her quickly. She's already suffered so much. Please, please take her quickly."

It breaks my heart to see another family going through this level of devastation and loss. To be forced into a situation where it is so painful to watch what your child is going through, that you actually ask God to take her. I will never understand why so many families have to watch their children suffer and die. Never.

Adrianna has taken a turn for the worse and I ask any readers of this blog to please keep her in your hearts for a miracle tonight, and as you do, please remember her parents in your hearts for strength as well. Strength to endure whatever it is that the morning may bring.

Here is a link to her site:
http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/adriannacavanagh/mystory

I pulled the numbers using random.org's random number generator and meant to post this last night, but after a whirlwind weekend (hubs threw me a surprise 30th Saturday night) I wasn't able to get this post up until this morning. So here we have it...

The first number, for the pink angel, drawn on random.org was #14!

Congratulations to Baby On Mind.

The second number, for the white angel, was #3

Congrats to Sara/Emerging Butterfly at Reflections of A Butterfly!

Congratulations to both the winners. Ladies, please email me your mailing addresses at doinggoodinhername(at)gmail(dot)com and I will get these right out in the mail for you.

Also, to the commenter, KHeslin, please email me your address too, and I will happily send something over to you for your sister to wear in Peyton's honor when running the Leukemia/Lymphoma Society's Team In Training Half Marathon. What a beautiful offer, thank you!

I really like this blog giveaway stuff. I think I am going to do more of these in the future. Be sure to check back and participate when I do. They are a fun little break from the norm.

I pulled the numbers using random.org's random number generator and meant to post this last night, but after a whirlwind weekend (hubs threw me a surprise 30th Saturday night) I wasn't able to get this post up until this morning. So here we have it...

The first number, for the pink angel, drawn on random.org was #14!

Congratulations to Baby On Mind.

The second number, for the white angel, was #3

Congrats to Sara/Emerging Butterfly at Reflections of A Butterfly!

Congratulations to both the winners. Ladies, please email me your mailing addresses at doinggoodinhername(at)gmail(dot)com and I will get these right out in the mail for you.

Also, to the commenter, KHeslin, please email me your address too, and I will happily send something over to you for your sister to wear in Peyton's honor when running the Leukemia/Lymphoma Society's Team In Training Half Marathon. What a beautiful offer, thank you!

I really like this blog giveaway stuff. I think I am going to do more of these in the future. Be sure to check back and participate when I do. They are a fun little break from the norm.

Okay, that is a lie. This is actually my 124th post, but somewhere between grief, infertility, and the holidays, post number 100 got lost in the mix.

I feel the need to celebrate this blog and this community which have meant so much to me. What better way to celebrate in blog world than to do a little giveaway, right?

My mother in law was kind enough to donate these absolutely beautiful little angels for me to share with my readers. There is a pink one...

and a white one...

As always, my photography skills don't do them justice. They are just so delicate. I think they would be a nice addition to any memory box, but really you could use them for anything.

If you would like to be entered in the giveaway, just leave the word "angel" with your comment below. I will do two drawings on Sunday evening, that way everyone in all time zones can participate. Happy Give Awaying!

****

So now down to business. We went to our first IVF seminar last night. It was a two and a half hour talk about the medical and emotional side of IVF. I have to tell you, I was pretty annoyed at the number of fathers in that room who were complaining about having to go to the seminar, or playing on their i-phones the whole time. I mean, in the grand scheme of IVF, the men have it pretty easy. A few specimens, and that's it. There were these few guys who laughed every time the word "sperm" was said, I mean come on, really? Man 30 has made me a real old coot!

There is a lot to think about with IVF, what to do with the embryos that don't get implanted, for one. As well as if we would be open to a few processes called ICSI (sticking a sperm directly into the egg) or assisted hatching (where they break the shell of the egg away if it is not doing it on it's own.) Something about the romance of creating a child really gets lost in the IVF process. That being said, I am still grateful for the process, it gives us a chance at having our own kids, a door that would have been totally closed for us because of my tube situation.

They discussed with us the side effects of the medications, and walked through all the steps that we will take on this journey. Lots of poking. Even more prodding. That's okay though, if I have to be treated like cattle to get to some healthy rainbow baby(s), that is fine by me. I have to admit though, some of the details did make me feel like I was in a twilight zone episode or something. It is very hard to wrap my head around making a baby in a test tube, then putting it in me, or that they can make an embryo from us, then leave it on ice for years until we want to use it. What happens to the embryo? What are they feeling? These were all the things going through my head.

This seminar is done twice a month for couples starting on this process. The clinic we are going through is the largest in our state, and I was blown away by the fact that there were probably forty couples there. That means roughly eighty couples a month come through this clinic to start this process. They said they do 1000 transfers a year. Once you are in it, isn't it amazing how big the ALI community around you seems to be?

I had a few commenters on an earlier post ask me why it was so expensive for the first round of IVF. There are a few reasons, probably not the least of which is where we live. This is a very expensive state. I used to work in occupational health, and when our clinic in Minnesota would charge $20 for something, say a drug test, the same clinic in our state charged $68. I am sure that has something to do with the price.

My understanding too, from what the financial people have told me, is that the first is most expensive because that cost involves lots of one time testing that is done to get you ready ahead of time, the medications, and the extraction of and freezing of eggs. I have been told that should they get more than enough eggs (this is not a given so we will have to wait and see) they can then freeze them, and if we had to go through more than one round because this round didn't work, or we wanted to try for more children in the future, it would be a less expensive process because they would already have the eggs so that cost on medications to increase my number of eggs, and for the extractions would be cut out. I am really, really praying that this works for us.

So this morning the hubs went in for his first portion of the process. Like a soldier heading off to war, he left here today, cup in hand, to do the less than glamorous work of giving a specimen while in the doctor's office. He was great about it though, donning a very brave face. I think if I had to do that, it might feel a little awkward. I have enough trouble handing over urine specimens without feeling sorry for the person who has to take them. Poor hubs, he really wanted to do it here and transport it, but it is SO COLD outside, we didn't know that he would be able to keep the cup at body temp for the half hour drive.

He told me that the experience was a little weird, but not too bad. He said they put him in a room with a couch (covered by a paper sheet haha), some porno mags and a tv. Like a very sterile motel room I would imagine. Now that he has done that deed, I think he is safe for a while.

Today I go in for some day two hormone testing. I think once that is done, and all my records are sent over from my doctor and the hospital that performed the HSG, we just wait for someone to tell us our next steps. I have to admit, even though I don't know where this is going, how, or when, it feels really nice to have some next steps.

PS... thank you for all the wonderful birthday wishes, and for those of you who commented on that pic of Peyton. I love it too. Haha she really did look like she was up to something or making some type of plan. I like to think of what she was thinking about when she would put her hand under her chin. She was my very own mini version of "The Thinker."

For those of you who don't know what I am talking about, here is that picture...

What a little beauty you were Peyton. I love you my sweet girl, and miss you in a way that no words typed here could ever really do justice to...

Okay, that is a lie. This is actually my 124th post, but somewhere between grief, infertility, and the holidays, post number 100 got lost in the mix.

I feel the need to celebrate this blog and this community which have meant so much to me. What better way to celebrate in blog world than to do a little giveaway, right?

My mother in law was kind enough to donate these absolutely beautiful little angels for me to share with my readers. There is a pink one...

and a white one...

As always, my photography skills don't do them justice. They are just so delicate. I think they would be a nice addition to any memory box, but really you could use them for anything.

If you would like to be entered in the giveaway, just leave the word "angel" with your comment below. I will do two drawings on Sunday evening, that way everyone in all time zones can participate. Happy Give Awaying!

****

So now down to business. We went to our first IVF seminar last night. It was a two and a half hour talk about the medical and emotional side of IVF. I have to tell you, I was pretty annoyed at the number of fathers in that room who were complaining about having to go to the seminar, or playing on their i-phones the whole time. I mean, in the grand scheme of IVF, the men have it pretty easy. A few specimens, and that's it. There were these few guys who laughed every time the word "sperm" was said, I mean come on, really? Man 30 has made me a real old coot!

There is a lot to think about with IVF, what to do with the embryos that don't get implanted, for one. As well as if we would be open to a few processes called ICSI (sticking a sperm directly into the egg) or assisted hatching (where they break the shell of the egg away if it is not doing it on it's own.) Something about the romance of creating a child really gets lost in the IVF process. That being said, I am still grateful for the process, it gives us a chance at having our own kids, a door that would have been totally closed for us because of my tube situation.

They discussed with us the side effects of the medications, and walked through all the steps that we will take on this journey. Lots of poking. Even more prodding. That's okay though, if I have to be treated like cattle to get to some healthy rainbow baby(s), that is fine by me. I have to admit though, some of the details did make me feel like I was in a twilight zone episode or something. It is very hard to wrap my head around making a baby in a test tube, then putting it in me, or that they can make an embryo from us, then leave it on ice for years until we want to use it. What happens to the embryo? What are they feeling? These were all the things going through my head.

This seminar is done twice a month for couples starting on this process. The clinic we are going through is the largest in our state, and I was blown away by the fact that there were probably forty couples there. That means roughly eighty couples a month come through this clinic to start this process. They said they do 1000 transfers a year. Once you are in it, isn't it amazing how big the ALI community around you seems to be?

I had a few commenters on an earlier post ask me why it was so expensive for the first round of IVF. There are a few reasons, probably not the least of which is where we live. This is a very expensive state. I used to work in occupational health, and when our clinic in Minnesota would charge $20 for something, say a drug test, the same clinic in our state charged $68. I am sure that has something to do with the price.

My understanding too, from what the financial people have told me, is that the first is most expensive because that cost involves lots of one time testing that is done to get you ready ahead of time, the medications, and the extraction of and freezing of eggs. I have been told that should they get more than enough eggs (this is not a given so we will have to wait and see) they can then freeze them, and if we had to go through more than one round because this round didn't work, or we wanted to try for more children in the future, it would be a less expensive process because they would already have the eggs so that cost on medications to increase my number of eggs, and for the extractions would be cut out. I am really, really praying that this works for us.

So this morning the hubs went in for his first portion of the process. Like a soldier heading off to war, he left here today, cup in hand, to do the less than glamorous work of giving a specimen while in the doctor's office. He was great about it though, donning a very brave face. I think if I had to do that, it might feel a little awkward. I have enough trouble handing over urine specimens without feeling sorry for the person who has to take them. Poor hubs, he really wanted to do it here and transport it, but it is SO COLD outside, we didn't know that he would be able to keep the cup at body temp for the half hour drive.

He told me that the experience was a little weird, but not too bad. He said they put him in a room with a couch (covered by a paper sheet haha), some porno mags and a tv. Like a very sterile motel room I would imagine. Now that he has done that deed, I think he is safe for a while.

Today I go in for some day two hormone testing. I think once that is done, and all my records are sent over from my doctor and the hospital that performed the HSG, we just wait for someone to tell us our next steps. I have to admit, even though I don't know where this is going, how, or when, it feels really nice to have some next steps.

PS... thank you for all the wonderful birthday wishes, and for those of you who commented on that pic of Peyton. I love it too. Haha she really did look like she was up to something or making some type of plan. I like to think of what she was thinking about when she would put her hand under her chin. She was my very own mini version of "The Thinker."

For those of you who don't know what I am talking about, here is that picture...

What a little beauty you were Peyton. I love you my sweet girl, and miss you in a way that no words typed here could ever really do justice to...

I am officially 30.

It happened sometime today around 3:25 in the afternoon. Feeling anything but Happy this Birthday would have been really difficult. The love of family and friends came through in many forms, making the day a joyous one.

The first was this beautiful bouquet from hubs, delivered to my front door.

More smiles followed with lots of facebook, email, and blog well wishes, and various silly renditions of Happy Birthday sung to my voicemail. I was sung to in an operatic voice. A pirate voice. Silly voices. The voices of my nieces and nephew (well not really, he is only a few months old, but I am sure he was there by the phone too so that counts), a Cha-Cha-Cha version of the song, and I was even sung to in Polish by my Hungarian best friend, a skill that until today, I never knew she had (and we have been friends 20 years!)

The second time the door rang, a delivery man brought these goodies. They are chocolate covered apples and pears, sent to brighten my day by one of my very best friends.

And then tonight, I rang in this new decade over a wonderful dinner with my hubs, parents, aunt and uncle.

When we got home, Charlotte even got into the Birthday celebration by sporting this cute bow.

Yes, today was a very Happy Birthday. The only thing that could possibly have made it better, would have been…

To see what others are Showing and Telling, visit Mel's blog here.

I am officially 30.

It happened sometime today around 3:25 in the afternoon. Feeling anything but Happy this Birthday would have been really difficult. The love of family and friends came through in many forms, making the day a joyous one.

The first was this beautiful bouquet from hubs, delivered to my front door.

More smiles followed with lots of facebook, email, and blog well wishes, and various silly renditions of Happy Birthday sung to my voicemail. I was sung to in an operatic voice. A pirate voice. Silly voices. The voices of my nieces and nephew (well not really, he is only a few months old, but I am sure he was there by the phone too so that counts), a Cha-Cha-Cha version of the song, and I was even sung to in Polish by my Hungarian best friend, a skill that until today, I never knew she had (and we have been friends 20 years!)

The second time the door rang, a delivery man brought these goodies. They are chocolate covered apples and pears, sent to brighten my day by one of my very best friends.

And then tonight, I rang in this new decade over a wonderful dinner with my hubs, parents, aunt and uncle.

When we got home, Charlotte even got into the Birthday celebration by sporting this cute bow.

Yes, today was a very Happy Birthday. The only thing that could possibly have made it better, would have been…

To see what others are Showing and Telling, visit Mel's blog here.

Today is my last day as a twenty something.

I remember when I turned 26, lying in bed and crying that I was closer to thirty than twenty. When I think of that now, it makes me want to roll my eyes at the old me.

Most 29 year olds would probably be sorry to see the big 3-0 looming, but honestly, Good Riddance! Scram! Get Lost! (Yes, I did just tell my twenties to scram. See, I am sounding older by the second.)

To be fair to my twenties, the first 7 years of this decade were wonderful to me. I met and married my hubby, gained a new family in my in-laws, bought a home, settled in nicely to a good career, had two nieces come into this world, and welcomed another into my heart, made amazing new friends, and strengthened the bond with old ones. At twenty seven, the world was my oyster and life seemed ready for the taking. I had no idea what was coming. Believe me when I say, ignorance was bliss!

The last few years of this decade... well, you know that story, and if you don't, here is the Reader's Digest version: miscarriage, birth of first child, loss of first child to leukemia, loss of sense of self, depression, discovery of infertility, Happy New Year!

Really, if you want more details about that you will have to click that little previous posts link on the sidebar and catch up, because it's a little too much of a downer for me to rehash on my birthday post.

Tomorrow brings a new chapter to my life, and I am starting that chapter from a place I could never have imagined standing. When I was crying in my bed as a twenty six year old, I thought for sure I would have my children by now. I didn't know about this place, where perfectly healthy mommas in secure, loving homes, do all they can to bring perfectly healthy babies into this world, but go on to lose them anyway. No I didn't know about this place. Not really. Not in a way that did it any justice.

When I was younger I planned everything out, a 2 year plan, a 5 year plan, a 10 year plan. A big part of that plan was to have all of my kids before I hit this thirty year mark. Making this plan, was in itself a silly plan, with even sillier reasoning behind it. I always thought I want to be a young mom so that I can relate to my kids. Or If I have them young, my body will bounce right back! Or my favorite, As long as I have them young, they will be healthy and normal.

Thinking back on it, I don't know if I was an idiot, or naive, or both.

If these last few years have taught me anything, it is that you never know what the next day has in store for you, or which direction it is going to take you. That being said, I honestly feel like wherever life takes me, there is nowhere to go from here, but up. So that's what I am going to wish for this year. That we will begin to move forward/up. That the things that have felt so impossible will once again feel within the realm of possibility, and that the hopes and dreams that I long for so deeply in my heart, will come to be for us and bring with them a lasting joy.

There are a couple of quotes stirring through my mind tonight, on this, the eve of my thirties.  Each of these has brought something significant into my heart as this new dawn approaches for me, and I hope that in sharing them, they do the same for you in your respective situations.

This one I read at a natural foods shop earlier today:
Just when the caterpillar thinks the world has ended, it becomes a butterfly. -Unknown


And this is one I keep above my mantle, just next to sweet Peyton's picture to keep me going when this journey feels insurmountable:
It's never too late to be what you might have been.-George Elliot 

Here's to new hope and endless possibilities in the future for us all!


****A SIDE NOTE: PLEASE READ****

Today I received an empty envelope addressed to me at home, no return address, with a Jan. 15 postmark from Osh Kosh WI. I would really hate to think someone meant to send something and it never made it here :(

If anyone knows anything about this, please email me at doinggoodinhername(at)gmail(dot)com. Thanks!

Today is my last day as a twenty something.

I remember when I turned 26, lying in bed and crying that I was closer to thirty than twenty. When I think of that now, it makes me want to roll my eyes at the old me.

Most 29 year olds would probably be sorry to see the big 3-0 looming, but honestly, Good Riddance! Scram! Get Lost! (Yes, I did just tell my twenties to scram. See, I am sounding older by the second.)

To be fair to my twenties, the first 7 years of this decade were wonderful to me. I met and married my hubby, gained a new family in my in-laws, bought a home, settled in nicely to a good career, had two nieces come into this world, and welcomed another into my heart, made amazing new friends, and strengthened the bond with old ones. At twenty seven, the world was my oyster and life seemed ready for the taking. I had no idea what was coming. Believe me when I say, ignorance was bliss!

The last few years of this decade... well, you know that story, and if you don't, here is the Reader's Digest version: miscarriage, birth of first child, loss of first child to leukemia, loss of sense of self, depression, discovery of infertility, Happy New Year!

Really, if you want more details about that you will have to click that little previous posts link on the sidebar and catch up, because it's a little too much of a downer for me to rehash on my birthday post.

Tomorrow brings a new chapter to my life, and I am starting that chapter from a place I could never have imagined standing. When I was crying in my bed as a twenty six year old, I thought for sure I would have my children by now. I didn't know about this place, where perfectly healthy mommas in secure, loving homes, do all they can to bring perfectly healthy babies into this world, but go on to lose them anyway. No I didn't know about this place. Not really. Not in a way that did it any justice.

When I was younger I planned everything out, a 2 year plan, a 5 year plan, a 10 year plan. A big part of that plan was to have all of my kids before I hit this thirty year mark. Making this plan, was in itself a silly plan, with even sillier reasoning behind it. I always thought I want to be a young mom so that I can relate to my kids. Or If I have them young, my body will bounce right back! Or my favorite, As long as I have them young, they will be healthy and normal.

Thinking back on it, I don't know if I was an idiot, or naive, or both.

If these last few years have taught me anything, it is that you never know what the next day has in store for you, or which direction it is going to take you. That being said, I honestly feel like wherever life takes me, there is nowhere to go from here, but up. So that's what I am going to wish for this year. That we will begin to move forward/up. That the things that have felt so impossible will once again feel within the realm of possibility, and that the hopes and dreams that I long for so deeply in my heart, will come to be for us and bring with them a lasting joy.

There are a couple of quotes stirring through my mind tonight, on this, the eve of my thirties.  Each of these has brought something significant into my heart as this new dawn approaches for me, and I hope that in sharing them, they do the same for you in your respective situations.

This one I read at a natural foods shop earlier today:
Just when the caterpillar thinks the world has ended, it becomes a butterfly. -Unknown


And this is one I keep above my mantle, just next to sweet Peyton's picture to keep me going when this journey feels insurmountable:
It's never too late to be what you might have been.-George Elliot 

Here's to new hope and endless possibilities in the future for us all!


****A SIDE NOTE: PLEASE READ****

Today I received an empty envelope addressed to me at home, no return address, with a Jan. 15 postmark from Osh Kosh WI. I would really hate to think someone meant to send something and it never made it here :(

If anyone knows anything about this, please email me at doinggoodinhername(at)gmail(dot)com. Thanks!

I met a little girl today
eyes of bright blue
so much like you
and asked her mother of her age
"This little one's eight months"

Eight months, oh my
that's half as long
as you've been gone
how can that be, each moment an eternity
and a second all at once

The woman smiled when looking down
with adoring eyes
it was no surprise
I wonder if you ever felt
the smiles I cast at you

Sometimes I'm lost in thinking of
what couldn't be
for you and me
and wonder if you feel that too
wherever you have gone

No less my heart beats for you child
tears of love I've cried
even though you've died
no less I think of smiling at you
remembering those eyes of blue

~Kristin Binder

I met a little girl today
eyes of bright blue
so much like you
and asked her mother of her age
"This little one's eight months"

Eight months, oh my
that's half as long
as you've been gone
how can that be, each moment an eternity
and a second all at once

The woman smiled when looking down
with adoring eyes
it was no surprise
I wonder if you ever felt
the smiles I cast at you

Sometimes I'm lost in thinking of
what couldn't be
for you and me
and wonder if you feel that too
wherever you have gone

No less my heart beats for you child
tears of love I've cried
even though you've died
no less I think of smiling at you
remembering those eyes of blue

~Kristin Binder

First, I would like to send out a HUGE THANK YOU to all of the bloggers, friends, and family who have supported me through this latest crisis with hugs, prayers, and messages of support. Baby loss is isolating. Infertility is isolating. Thank you so much for showing me I do not have to face this alone.

Our appointment with the Fertility Specialists (or FS) was at nine this morning, and we met with two separate docs who reviewed our case and performed some tests. It was really comforting that they both told me they had read my case, and offered their condolences on Peyton. That might seem like such a small thing to some, but it is a level of compassion not lost on us in the babylost world.

I had a pelvic exam, some cultures done, and an ultrasound of my reproductive system, after which, we were invited to sit down and talk in detail with both doctors about what they had found, and what they felt was the best way to proceed. The FS told us that we had two options, some of the details of which were expected, others which were not.

Option A involves a laproscopic surgery performed through incisions in my belly button and abdomen to explore the damage from the scarring, try to remove it (this is possible in a small percentage of cases), and assess my tubes for future functionality. If Option A worked, I would, in theory, be where I was before this nightmare began, and have working tubes.

Option A, the surgery, also has some major downsides. First is effectiveness, the FS indicated that in all likelihood, the surgery would reveal that the damage is too extensive to be corrected, and I would still need to pursue IVF to get pregnant. He discussed with me the theory behind muscle spasms, and I am going to share that here for anyone else who might go through this. He said that in some cases, the uterus will go into spasm, closing off the entrance to the tubes during the HSG, making it impossible for any dye to get through, and giving a result that appears as if the tubes are blocked. The reason this is not believed to be the case for me is pain. During the HSG, I felt discomfort when the catheter was put in, as well as when it was tugged on. This discomfort was always in the area of my cervix. When the Docs were trying to blow through the tubes with the dye, I felt nothing. This is supposed to be the most uncomfortable portion of the test. This is why they ruled out muscle spasm for me, because if the uterus was in spasm, I would have felt extreme cramping discomfort at this point in the muscles that were spasming. Also, because scar tissue does not sense pain.

Another major downside of this surgery is cost. Our insurance offers a lifetime max of $15,000 for fertility treatments, and a large portion of this would be spent on this surgery. If the surgery was not effective, and we had to pursue IVF, we would be left with a much smaller reserve of funds from our insurance company to cover the cost.

Third is the risk of complications from the surgery. There are risks, namely that your bowel, uterus, or tubes can, in a small number of cases, be damaged during this surgery. As of right now, my uterus looks good enough to hold a baby, so I am not sure that is a risk I am willing to take. Additionally, this surgery requires full sedation, so there is the possibility of complications from anesthesia, as well as the possibility of getting another infection, like the one from my c-section that put me in this position.

Then there is the fourth downfall. Due to surgical scheduling, as well as recovery time, if this surgery failed and we had to turn to IVF anyway, this surgery would put that process off by several months. Going several more months without any forward movement is a bit overwhelming.

So that leaves option B) Never find out the extent of damage and instead go straight for IVF. The main issue with this option is cost. It will cost approximately $17,500 for the first round of IVF, $2500 over our maximum amount covered by insurance, which is pennies in our minds if it works, but very expensive if it doesn't. We do feel a sense of hope in that the FS thought that with my age and health history, the success rate for me on IVF would fall somewhere around 50%, as opposed to the usual 20%. I am trying to view this as a glass half full scenario.

At my age they are willing to transfer up to two eggs. There is an increased likelihood of multiples. A 25% chance of twins, and a 5% chance of triplets, are what we are looking at, should the IVF cycle be successful. I have seen a lot of heartache on these blogs for mothers who have lost multiples, and know that there are added risks with multiple pregnancies, so that is something to consider as well.

So there you have it. I would be lying if I didn't say that this appointment has renewed a sense of hope for me. I am being "cautiously optimistic" which is a huge step up from my "life is a shitstorm" attitude of late.

When I had my HSG, and the Docs indicated that IVF may not even be an option available to me because of the damage caused by the infection, it came as an extreme shock. I saw the door of motherhood slamming shut before my eyes. It was devastating.

Seeing that there is this other avenue, this little window letting some light in on the situation, gives us something to hope and wish on. Of course I would rather conceive other children the way I had with Peyton, as opposed to through surgical means or in a petri dish, but I can't. That door is closed, and there is very little that I can do about that, so instead I am looking towards that window, and praying that in it's light lies a second chance for us. A chance to have another child of our own. A chance at our own, healthy, rainbow baby(s).

We are still thinking over and researching both option A and option B, but I think we are leaning more towards B. Please keep us in your prayers to make the right decision.

First, I would like to send out a HUGE THANK YOU to all of the bloggers, friends, and family who have supported me through this latest crisis with hugs, prayers, and messages of support. Baby loss is isolating. Infertility is isolating. Thank you so much for showing me I do not have to face this alone.

Our appointment with the Fertility Specialists (or FS) was at nine this morning, and we met with two separate docs who reviewed our case and performed some tests. It was really comforting that they both told me they had read my case, and offered their condolences on Peyton. That might seem like such a small thing to some, but it is a level of compassion not lost on us in the babylost world.

I had a pelvic exam, some cultures done, and an ultrasound of my reproductive system, after which, we were invited to sit down and talk in detail with both doctors about what they had found, and what they felt was the best way to proceed. The FS told us that we had two options, some of the details of which were expected, others which were not.

Option A involves a laproscopic surgery performed through incisions in my belly button and abdomen to explore the damage from the scarring, try to remove it (this is possible in a small percentage of cases), and assess my tubes for future functionality. If Option A worked, I would, in theory, be where I was before this nightmare began, and have working tubes.

Option A, the surgery, also has some major downsides. First is effectiveness, the FS indicated that in all likelihood, the surgery would reveal that the damage is too extensive to be corrected, and I would still need to pursue IVF to get pregnant. He discussed with me the theory behind muscle spasms, and I am going to share that here for anyone else who might go through this. He said that in some cases, the uterus will go into spasm, closing off the entrance to the tubes during the HSG, making it impossible for any dye to get through, and giving a result that appears as if the tubes are blocked. The reason this is not believed to be the case for me is pain. During the HSG, I felt discomfort when the catheter was put in, as well as when it was tugged on. This discomfort was always in the area of my cervix. When the Docs were trying to blow through the tubes with the dye, I felt nothing. This is supposed to be the most uncomfortable portion of the test. This is why they ruled out muscle spasm for me, because if the uterus was in spasm, I would have felt extreme cramping discomfort at this point in the muscles that were spasming. Also, because scar tissue does not sense pain.

Another major downside of this surgery is cost. Our insurance offers a lifetime max of $15,000 for fertility treatments, and a large portion of this would be spent on this surgery. If the surgery was not effective, and we had to pursue IVF, we would be left with a much smaller reserve of funds from our insurance company to cover the cost.

Third is the risk of complications from the surgery. There are risks, namely that your bowel, uterus, or tubes can, in a small number of cases, be damaged during this surgery. As of right now, my uterus looks good enough to hold a baby, so I am not sure that is a risk I am willing to take. Additionally, this surgery requires full sedation, so there is the possibility of complications from anesthesia, as well as the possibility of getting another infection, like the one from my c-section that put me in this position.

Then there is the fourth downfall. Due to surgical scheduling, as well as recovery time, if this surgery failed and we had to turn to IVF anyway, this surgery would put that process off by several months. Going several more months without any forward movement is a bit overwhelming.

So that leaves option B) Never find out the extent of damage and instead go straight for IVF. The main issue with this option is cost. It will cost approximately $17,500 for the first round of IVF, $2500 over our maximum amount covered by insurance, which is pennies in our minds if it works, but very expensive if it doesn't. We do feel a sense of hope in that the FS thought that with my age and health history, the success rate for me on IVF would fall somewhere around 50%, as opposed to the usual 20%. I am trying to view this as a glass half full scenario.

At my age they are willing to transfer up to two eggs. There is an increased likelihood of multiples. A 25% chance of twins, and a 5% chance of triplets, are what we are looking at, should the IVF cycle be successful. I have seen a lot of heartache on these blogs for mothers who have lost multiples, and know that there are added risks with multiple pregnancies, so that is something to consider as well.

So there you have it. I would be lying if I didn't say that this appointment has renewed a sense of hope for me. I am being "cautiously optimistic" which is a huge step up from my "life is a shitstorm" attitude of late.

When I had my HSG, and the Docs indicated that IVF may not even be an option available to me because of the damage caused by the infection, it came as an extreme shock. I saw the door of motherhood slamming shut before my eyes. It was devastating.

Seeing that there is this other avenue, this little window letting some light in on the situation, gives us something to hope and wish on. Of course I would rather conceive other children the way I had with Peyton, as opposed to through surgical means or in a petri dish, but I can't. That door is closed, and there is very little that I can do about that, so instead I am looking towards that window, and praying that in it's light lies a second chance for us. A chance to have another child of our own. A chance at our own, healthy, rainbow baby(s).

We are still thinking over and researching both option A and option B, but I think we are leaning more towards B. Please keep us in your prayers to make the right decision.

In light of all that is happening in Haiti, I am feeling like a real shit for griping about my life. Sure, between losing Peyton and this latest blow, I feel like my world has come tumbling down, but for the poor people of Haiti, their world has literally come tumbling down all around them. When my world crashed down, there were people and services available to help me through. For the people of Haiti, there are no services.

Tonight I am focusing my prayers on all the victims of the earthquake in Haiti, and their families, especially those who have not been able to connect with one another. The numbers coming across on the news are so indescribably huge. I pray that with the break of day, a brighter picture can be painted for the people of Haiti. Please join me in keeping them in your thoughts.

In light of all that is happening in Haiti, I am feeling like a real shit for griping about my life. Sure, between losing Peyton and this latest blow, I feel like my world has come tumbling down, but for the poor people of Haiti, their world has literally come tumbling down all around them. When my world crashed down, there were people and services available to help me through. For the people of Haiti, there are no services.

Tonight I am focusing my prayers on all the victims of the earthquake in Haiti, and their families, especially those who have not been able to connect with one another. The numbers coming across on the news are so indescribably huge. I pray that with the break of day, a brighter picture can be painted for the people of Haiti. Please join me in keeping them in your thoughts.

Last night I had a dream that I had another c-section. I don't know what the outcome was, but I imagine not so good because I woke up panicked, grabbing at my stomach. It was devastating.  I imagine the events and conversations from last week didn't help matters.

By Wednesday when I still hadn't heard from my Doc, who we will call Dr. X. I called and spoke to a receptionist. I told her I needed to speak with Dr. X about my test results and where to go from here. She gave me some line about the test not having been sent over yet from the Hospital. This struck me as odd since the test was done in the hospital where Dr. X works. I said, "They already told me the results, they told me that an infection destroyed my tubes." Her reaction, "Oh, they did?" Me, "Yes, they did. I need to know what my next steps are." She told me she would call me back, and when she did it was to tell me to try to reach Dr. X or her secretary the next day. I don't know the last time I felt so much like I was getting the run around.

On Thursday I called again, asked for Dr. X, and was put through to her direct secretary. "Dr. X says not to worry too much. That it might have been just a muscle spasm." I explained to her that during the test, the two Doctors performing the test had completely ruled out the possibility of muscle spasm. "Oh... they told you that?" Was all she could say. "Yes, they told me that."

I was so upset. Don't these people know what holding out hope for something like a muscle spasm could do to a person?

I saw the look in the Doctor's eyes when she gave me the news after performing the HSG. She saw me collapse and cry, she saw how desperate and upset I was. No doctor would let a person leave the hospital in that condition over a f*cking muscle spasm!

The secretary went on to say, "Dr. X wants your husband to complete the sperm test and we will go from there, maybe referring you on to a specialist."  I asked her what the point would be in having my husband spend $300 to shoot in a cup, when we know the issue is with me. Not for nothing but my husband has gotten me pregnant twice (the miscarriage, and Peyton) both on the first try. If all my tests had come back normal I might have more seriously questioned his little swimmers, but seeing as how we got the results that we got, it seemed an awful waste of $300, not to mention delaying us moving forward towards finding a solution for my scarred/blocked tube situation.

"As for her referral," I said, "I already made an appointment for next week with the Fertility Specialist." "Oh, okay, good." She said. "Well than I don't think you will have to see Dr. X at all. Call me tomorrow with the Fertility Specialist's fax number, and I will send your records right over."

That night I was very hesitant to share with hubs my phone conversation. "There is something I have to tell you," I said, "Dr. X said maybe I was in spasm and that's why the results showed the way they did. I didn't want to tell you this because I don't want your hopes up for nothing. I was in that room. I heard the two Doctors talking about muscle spasms, and then finally ruling it out. I don't know why she would even say this." He said he wouldn't get his hopes up, but I could see in his eyes that he did.

Friday I called with the fax number for the Fertility Specialist and spoke with Dr. X's direct secretary again. "I'm sorry," she said, "I spoke with Dr. X and she said you were right. It definitely was not a muscle spasm. She doesn't want you to think she's slacking its just she hadn't had a chance to really discuss the results with the Doctors who performed the test yet."


Hadn't had the chance? It had been nearly two weeks!

I was so angry. Where was the sense of urgency?


Dr. X once told me that I was the only patient she had ever had carry a baby to term and then lose in infancy. It really hurt me that after all the pain that she has seen losing Peyton cause for myself and my husband, after having witnessed the aftermath of something like that, that she couldn't pick up the phone and be straight with me about what was going on. On the day of the HSG I was told that Dr. X would call me the next day to discuss. To this day, I still haven't heard from her.

Hubs and I go to meet with the Fertility Specialist this Friday, to see what, if anything, can be done. It sounds like the first step is to perform a surgery through my belly button to assess the scarring. Some people with slight scarring have minimal and/or short term success with a roto-rooter, for lack of a better word, type surgery. There are increased risks of ectopic pregnancy, and a slew of other issues involved, but that may be one possibility.

From what I have read, and based on what had been told to me during the HSG, it sounds like IVF would likely be proposed as the only option. I think the roto-rooter thing also checks to make sure my eggs haven't been affected by the infection too. Lets keep our fingers crossed on that one big time.

All of this is speculation of course, since I haven't been afforded the luxury of speaking with any Doctors since my HSG.

Two nights ago, I was standing at the counter sort of spacing out, totally lost in thought. Hubs asked what I was thinking about, "Oh, nothing" I said. But that wasn't true, I just couldn't bare to tell him.

It was like I was frozen, overwhelmed by images and memories of all that has happened in these first few years of our marriage. I could see myself, how it used to feel to be hopeful. How happy I once was. Not in the "put a smile on for the benefit of others" way that I have become so accustomed to, but really, truly happy. We had had all these plans. We were gonna have a big family. What happened to us?

Sometimes I feel so weighed down by all of the grief, sadness, and disappointment of these last 16 months. I used to really be on track. The future used to feel so bright. Now I feel like a walking tragedy, a one trick pony, a broken record. I just don't know how I can heal, or move forward with my life, if I remain stuck in a place full of sorrow and loss.

Please, please keep us in your prayers for there to be some hope, some door or window for us to find that has been left open. Please pray that we can do what we set out to do some two and a half years, and two pregnancies ago. Please pray that we can have a healthy family.

*** A few side notes.***

1) Thank you to all who prayed for my cousin's baby Faith Margaret through her last open heart surgery and hospitalization. I saw Faith last week, and she is doing amazingly well. I know all those positive vibes you sent her way did the trick.

2) Thank you to all who sent their email information for the writer doing the story on this blog. I forwarded all of your info directly to him. I am not sure how many people he is going to be speaking with directly, but know a few of you have already heard from him. The outpouring was amazing, and he has informed me that he has enough people now for his story, so thank you very much.

Last night I had a dream that I had another c-section. I don't know what the outcome was, but I imagine not so good because I woke up panicked, grabbing at my stomach. It was devastating.  I imagine the events and conversations from last week didn't help matters.

By Wednesday when I still hadn't heard from my Doc, who we will call Dr. X. I called and spoke to a receptionist. I told her I needed to speak with Dr. X about my test results and where to go from here. She gave me some line about the test not having been sent over yet from the Hospital. This struck me as odd since the test was done in the hospital where Dr. X works. I said, "They already told me the results, they told me that an infection destroyed my tubes." Her reaction, "Oh, they did?" Me, "Yes, they did. I need to know what my next steps are." She told me she would call me back, and when she did it was to tell me to try to reach Dr. X or her secretary the next day. I don't know the last time I felt so much like I was getting the run around.

On Thursday I called again, asked for Dr. X, and was put through to her direct secretary. "Dr. X says not to worry too much. That it might have been just a muscle spasm." I explained to her that during the test, the two Doctors performing the test had completely ruled out the possibility of muscle spasm. "Oh... they told you that?" Was all she could say. "Yes, they told me that."

I was so upset. Don't these people know what holding out hope for something like a muscle spasm could do to a person?

I saw the look in the Doctor's eyes when she gave me the news after performing the HSG. She saw me collapse and cry, she saw how desperate and upset I was. No doctor would let a person leave the hospital in that condition over a f*cking muscle spasm!

The secretary went on to say, "Dr. X wants your husband to complete the sperm test and we will go from there, maybe referring you on to a specialist."  I asked her what the point would be in having my husband spend $300 to shoot in a cup, when we know the issue is with me. Not for nothing but my husband has gotten me pregnant twice (the miscarriage, and Peyton) both on the first try. If all my tests had come back normal I might have more seriously questioned his little swimmers, but seeing as how we got the results that we got, it seemed an awful waste of $300, not to mention delaying us moving forward towards finding a solution for my scarred/blocked tube situation.

"As for her referral," I said, "I already made an appointment for next week with the Fertility Specialist." "Oh, okay, good." She said. "Well than I don't think you will have to see Dr. X at all. Call me tomorrow with the Fertility Specialist's fax number, and I will send your records right over."

That night I was very hesitant to share with hubs my phone conversation. "There is something I have to tell you," I said, "Dr. X said maybe I was in spasm and that's why the results showed the way they did. I didn't want to tell you this because I don't want your hopes up for nothing. I was in that room. I heard the two Doctors talking about muscle spasms, and then finally ruling it out. I don't know why she would even say this." He said he wouldn't get his hopes up, but I could see in his eyes that he did.

Friday I called with the fax number for the Fertility Specialist and spoke with Dr. X's direct secretary again. "I'm sorry," she said, "I spoke with Dr. X and she said you were right. It definitely was not a muscle spasm. She doesn't want you to think she's slacking its just she hadn't had a chance to really discuss the results with the Doctors who performed the test yet."


Hadn't had the chance? It had been nearly two weeks!

I was so angry. Where was the sense of urgency?


Dr. X once told me that I was the only patient she had ever had carry a baby to term and then lose in infancy. It really hurt me that after all the pain that she has seen losing Peyton cause for myself and my husband, after having witnessed the aftermath of something like that, that she couldn't pick up the phone and be straight with me about what was going on. On the day of the HSG I was told that Dr. X would call me the next day to discuss. To this day, I still haven't heard from her.

Hubs and I go to meet with the Fertility Specialist this Friday, to see what, if anything, can be done. It sounds like the first step is to perform a surgery through my belly button to assess the scarring. Some people with slight scarring have minimal and/or short term success with a roto-rooter, for lack of a better word, type surgery. There are increased risks of ectopic pregnancy, and a slew of other issues involved, but that may be one possibility.

From what I have read, and based on what had been told to me during the HSG, it sounds like IVF would likely be proposed as the only option. I think the roto-rooter thing also checks to make sure my eggs haven't been affected by the infection too. Lets keep our fingers crossed on that one big time.

All of this is speculation of course, since I haven't been afforded the luxury of speaking with any Doctors since my HSG.

Two nights ago, I was standing at the counter sort of spacing out, totally lost in thought. Hubs asked what I was thinking about, "Oh, nothing" I said. But that wasn't true, I just couldn't bare to tell him.

It was like I was frozen, overwhelmed by images and memories of all that has happened in these first few years of our marriage. I could see myself, how it used to feel to be hopeful. How happy I once was. Not in the "put a smile on for the benefit of others" way that I have become so accustomed to, but really, truly happy. We had had all these plans. We were gonna have a big family. What happened to us?

Sometimes I feel so weighed down by all of the grief, sadness, and disappointment of these last 16 months. I used to really be on track. The future used to feel so bright. Now I feel like a walking tragedy, a one trick pony, a broken record. I just don't know how I can heal, or move forward with my life, if I remain stuck in a place full of sorrow and loss.

Please, please keep us in your prayers for there to be some hope, some door or window for us to find that has been left open. Please pray that we can do what we set out to do some two and a half years, and two pregnancies ago. Please pray that we can have a healthy family.

*** A few side notes.***

1) Thank you to all who prayed for my cousin's baby Faith Margaret through her last open heart surgery and hospitalization. I saw Faith last week, and she is doing amazingly well. I know all those positive vibes you sent her way did the trick.

2) Thank you to all who sent their email information for the writer doing the story on this blog. I forwarded all of your info directly to him. I am not sure how many people he is going to be speaking with directly, but know a few of you have already heard from him. The outpouring was amazing, and he has informed me that he has enough people now for his story, so thank you very much.