I’m not here much anymore. I’ve switched jobs, my daughter is almost two and the times, they have been busy. And stressful. I know, cry me a river right? I don’t say this to complain, just to say that even after all this time I know exactly how lucky I am. I try to always embrace the good with the bad (at least it’s not ALL f-ing bad). I am lucky as hell to be here and lucky to have my little family. I’m still into simplicity. I try to put us all in situations where we don’t have to tell my daughter “no” very often – not a lot of discipline needed yet. So far, we are just enjoying each other. I hope it lasts as long as it can. I love this little girl with everything that I am.

I’m planning on being honest with her about her conception, about using donor eggs. I’m still trying to figure out how and when to start those conversations. I don’t know how to do any of that yet, but I will when the time comes.

I am in awe of her joy, her enthusiasm, her sense of humor, her smile. She is by far the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. I am beyond lucky.

We have three more frozen embryos, trying to decide what to do. This will be year two in storage, I need to figure this out soon.

And if I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t know if I have the strength to dive back into the infertility pool again. I’m not sure I can face another year+ of shots, the waiting, wondering and hoping. The potential losses. I just don’t know.

But I’m okay with the not knowing for now. Eventually the decision will be made…one way or the other.

Peace, y’all..

So, I just got The Letter from my IF clinic. The one telling me to renew freezer storage for our three remaining embies, donate them or destroy them.

I’m not sure what to do. It’s a decision that nobody can make but me. The only thing completely out of the realm of possibilities is option C. No way. If I don’t use them I’ll offer them to someone else.

If I don’t use them.

I’m mulling things over. Pros and cons both ways, back and forth and back and forth.

I don’t know if I’m tough enough to do all that again. The shots for a year…the waiting and wondering and hoping. The falling apart and dragging myself back together. Can I handle all that and still keep up with taking care of a 15-month old? And myself? ‘Cause this chicken sure ain’t getting any younger, you know? Care will definitely have to be taken.

I honestly don’t know. I see now how IVF after a successful pregnancy can definitely be yet another nightmare. It puts a face on the on the end result. It smells like warm milk, sounds like dreams and feels like a tiny warm bundle hugging onto you. And if/when it goes badly (depending on if you’re an optimist), you now know exactly what you’ve lost.

I’m not sure I’m that tough, and I’m scared to be wrong. Maybe I’ll just stay on the fence until I fall off or something knocks me off. That’s usually how things work for me, anyway. Aren’t my decision making-skills amazing? 🙂

God, I so agree with this

I’m obviously not posting much, but I can’t walk away from this site. It’s mine, I poured my soul into it when it had nowhere else to go. The online IF community was a lifesaver for me, and in many ways still is. I still check in on people and their blogs, but I’m a horrible commenter. Maybe I just don’t really have that much to say right now. The time that I’ve spent in the presence of this tiny person living with me has been very introspective. A time for reflection and preparation. I’m sort of a scraped-together person. I’ve had some ugliness in my life (done to me as well as by me). Who hasn’t? I’ve managed to suck it up and move on as best I can. What wisdom and confidence I have has been hard-earned, hammered together, recycled and dragged through all kinds of muck. But I still have it. Growing up me was kind of horrific for reasons I’m not ready to air. My memories are by no means intact – there are gaps of years when I just lived in my own head rather than face my shitty little world. My history is disjointed and jagged, full of rocks and riptides. I’ve been incredibly self-destructive, but I’m still here. The days when I wished I wasn’t have been in the rear-view mirror for a long time (for which I thank every deity available). I’m jaded, I’m cynical and I’m sarcastic. And that was all before infertility joined the parade. I usually feel like a gorilla with a teacup at shiny happy events/occasions. Out of place, just not quite…..right.

And now I have a daughter. Who says God/The Universe doesn’t have a sense of humor? So much of being a parent seems to be sharing who you are, your experiences, living by example. So far I can only think of attempting that last one (just don’t drink out of the wine bottle with a straw when she’s around). Pulling out happy memories to pass on, conveying a sense of history and belonging to her – will be difficult for me. Getting her here was only the first challenge. I knew this was coming, I just wasn’t…really, well….all that prepared.

I guess we’ll both just have to learn as we go, huh?

I have no idea. We can all only do the best we can. But really…..

What would you DO??

My heart goes out to his family, as well as his other victims….

Peace, y’all.

I know I have next to no traffic here, but in case anyone comes through here this is a fantastic post to read. It pretty much sums up infertility in a way I could never, ever hope to put into words.

I’m posting that link for me as much as for anyone else. For the days when it all comes flooding back and I can’t think of how to explain how I’m feeling.

A part of you stays in the trenches forever, even if you finally have a child. It just morphs into a different kind of hurt.

Anyone ever have those days when you do something so stupid you feel like you should either be put down or quarantined for life? I had a crummy day yesterday. Then, to make myself feel even better I rummaged though my brain coming up with all my many asshat moments to compare with the events of yesterday to see which was worse. I didn’t want to do that, my brain just runs off without me sometimes. While I was wincing with loathing and embarrassment, I did at least realize that there does seem to be an upward trend. I do seem to be learning somewhat from prior bad acts, and the most recent stupidities aren’t nearly as stupid as they might have once been. At least I’m not repeating the same stuff, I’m being varied in my stupidity. Maybe in this lifetime I’ll manage to learn some things, and not actually be reincarnated as a cockroach.

So today, my Daily Dharma was most refreshing and appropriate. I give you:

The Power of Failure

Everybody, even the best of us, will sometimes behave ingloriously, and to think otherwise is to be hemmed in by vanity. As sad sinners wandering through samsara, one of the few things we can count on is that we are on occasion going to screw up miserably. For those of us who are exceptionally reliable in this regard, it is nothing less than a saving grace, is it not, that in our guise as bodhisattvas, falling down on the job is the biggest part of the job, and sometimes, somehow, failure, if allowed to do its work, can actually be surprisingly emancipatory. It can even help make us whole. We have to try to be better—wiser, kinder, more generous—people, but mostly there’s no getting away from our embarrassing, maddening, harebrained selves.

Andrew Cooper, “The Debacle”

Wishing you all a very merry weekend….

…..for giving me my daughter. Ignazio Carrasco de Paula can get stuffed. Twice.

That’s all I have to say about that.

We’ve all heard that saying, what goes around comes around. Right? Which is bullsh*t when it comes to infertility, nobody does anything to deserve this. It’s not someone’s fault, it just is. It’s a bad hand of cards, it’s the wrong place at the wrong time. I’ll stop with that, I’m starting to sound like an Alannis Morrisette song. Someone I know just went through a round of IVF, and it didn’t work. (Now before anyone gets any ideas, I know of several people dealing with infertility – I’m not going to name any names. Nobody is going to get outed here, I promise.) And I don’t think I was one damn bit helpful. All I could think of to say was “I’m so sorry”. How worthless. But there really isn’t anything to say, is there. I know that, but I wanted so badly to offer her more than that. I wanted to spare her some of the emotional sh*tstorm coming for her. I’ve waded through this muck myself, you see. I’m an expert, right? Hmph. I don’t know jack. It’s different for everyone, what’s broken, how to fix it, the outcome. Unfortunately, people who have walked this infertile path know that bad things happen to good people all the time. There is no fair, there is no justice, sometimes it seems like God closes his eyes and turns away. And then goes on vacation and forgets to turn on His stupid-a$$ outlook message so people can know nobody’s listening. The Universe doesn’t care.

How do you realistically comfort someone when you know what a crapshoot it is? I remember stretches of time when I thought I was drowning. Things got much worse before they got better. They did get better, and I have a daughter to show for my years of agony. But sometimes it doesn’t get better. As bad as you think it is it can always, always get worse. The whole process is so overwhelming, and I remember being so emotionally raw. Despair, anger, jealousy and fear all fighting for top billing. And echoes of those emotions are right underneath my skin, I was shocked at how much came flooding back. My throat closed up and all that came out was “I’m so sorry”….. When I heard that their cycle had failed, it all came rocketing back and hit me so hard I could barely breathe. I honestly thought I’d be better at this, but I don’t blow sunshine well. I wanted to be encouraging, I wanted to be comforting. I was none of those things. PTSD much? Probably. I sent her a couple of emails, sensing she didn’t want to talk. I don’t blame her, I didn’t after my failed cycles. Told her I was here for her, sent her a couple of links. I told her that I remember how hard it was to talk about, that just because I’m not asking doesn’t mean I don’t care. I pondered bringing her brownies. And then I marvelled at just how ineffective I was. I wish I’d been better for her. What would you have said?

Time for another daily dharma from Tricycle:


Gratitude, the simple and profound feeling of being thankful, is the foundation of all generosity. I am generous when I believe that right now, right here, in this form and this place, I am myself being given what I need. Generosity requires that we relinquish something, and this is impossible if we are not glad for what we have. Otherwise the giving hand closes into a fist and won’t let go.

– Sallie Jiko Tisdale, “As If There is Nothing to Lose”

I find myself feeling very quiet and serene when life is anything but that for me just now. A baby is a lot of work, my relationship with my husband is a work in progress as is my relationship with myself. But it feels like I’ve stripped away all the worthless crap in my life, and am finally only worried about what truly matters. All things are not wonderful in my world – there are financial, marital and family issues that I’ve dealt with for a long time, and they ain’t going anywhere anytime soon. Such is my lot. Things in my life don’t ever work out as planned, easy turns into complex and to be honest, I’m a pretty jaded person because of all that.

And yet.

For the first time I feel I can let all of that go. I’ve apparently made a choice not to clutter my life with any of my stupid baggage any more. I don’t know how or when I made it, but it’s done. I had no idea one of the things I’d get out of this motherhood deal was a new lease on my own life. So here I go about my tiny little day, being grateful…and damn, does it feel good.

There’s a picture in here, folks. No worries if you don’t want to see it…..

I’m still working, still amazed by how very little I care about my job anymore. Don’t see that changing any time soon. I’m not the person I was before, never will be. Still wish part time was an option, but it isn’t at this time. I know, oh woe is me – poor, poor pitiful me. I got absolutely nothing to bitch about. Even if I do, I don’t. And if I feel like I want to start bitching about something, I look at this:

…….and it all goes away. I still can’t believe this is my life, keep wondering when the universe will realize a mistake was made, will take it all back. I wonder how people who have never been through infertility do it. I wonder how they don’t ever have breath die in their throats at the possibility of losing their child, and I wonder how it doesn’t seem to occur to them every 15 seconds. I wonder how people can hurt anyone’s child, much less their own. And then I wonder what happened to create this piece of shit. And how does he get a kid and so many other people don’t. I mean really. WTF?? Then I go hug my kid and promise to do my level best for her forever and beyond.