Surgery is Scheduled

So it's official: on Sept. 10, my thyroid and I will part ways. I'm hoping this is the thing that's the key to me being able to stay pregnant, but I am very clear that there's no guarantee of that in any way. To start with, though, I'll just be grateful if it means I don't constantly shake anymore and my heart stops doing cartwheels in my chest.

People keep asking me if I'm nervous about it. And I'm sure I will be, starting a few days beforehand. But right now, I'm just looking forward to getting a step closer to being able to do a transfer again.

This is completely random and off the cuff, and I don't usually share much about R that's personal. But I think he's having a good day, and he hasn't had a lot of those lately, so it makes me happy and I'm sharing it.

He spent this afternoon at his best friend's house. There have been times during the past several years when that has been tough, because his BFF has a 6-year-old son. Even though they struggled with IF too, they're one of those couples who seems to have completely forgotten what all those emotions were like as soon as their son was born. BFF has even gone so far as to try to reason us out of the sadness and pain we feel, so at some points, we've had to distance ourselves.

But today sounds like a good day. When I talked to him a little while ago, he said he'd played computer games with the 6-year-old, and the two of them were in R's truck driving to their next activity, with BFF and some others in a different car.

It was just good to hear R having a happy day in the presence of a child.

Feeling Alone and Left Behind

I'm trying not to feel sorry for myself, but I'm failing miserably.

I've been in a good place for the past few months. I've needed a break from infertility, and I've had it. It's been good to not have every day, every decision we make, revolve around fertility treatments and my cycle day and needles.

Then last week happened. It was actually a pretty good week. I realized on Thursday that I hadn't even noticed what Aug. 17 represented - the 2-year anniversary of the D&C for the only pregnancy we've had that progressed to the point of a heartbeat. I thought it was a sign of healing. It's not that I don't think about the baby, because I do every day, but this time I didn't relive it in the days leading up to it.

About an hour later, I got an e-mail. An acquaintence, who is a former infertile who used donor egg to have her first child about a year and a half ago, is 27 weeks pregnant again. Apparently this time, she just naturally got pregnant a few months after she stopped breastfeeding. By accident. After deciding that she didn't want a second baby because the birthing process of the first was so horrible and the realities of motherhood didn't quite live up to the fantasies of it that she had.

It's not that I begrudge her this pregnancy. Or a mutual friend we have, who also had her first babies (twins) through IVF and also got pregnant naturally without trying the second time, less than 2 years after the twins were born. (She just had her third last month.)

It's just that I feel so totally left behind, and almost completely alone. I say "almost" because I know there are others out there in the same boat. But it feels like even those who are out here in the deep waters with me will also eventually find a path to success, and at some point I will be the only one left out here, floating aimlessly and Completely. Totally. Alone.

Then I made the mistake of logging on to FB, and seeing all the first day of school pics from this past week. Friends from the local resolve group who were down there in the trenches with me are sending their children off to school! For us, the prospect of a child going to school is still so far off that those kids will likely be in high school before we're showing up at the door of a kindergarten classroom.

Saturday, I bounced back. It was a happy day. A pair of capris that I bought 14 months ago, thinking "these will be perfect if I can just lose 5 pounds", finally fit for the first time! (25 pounds later...) There is almost nothing that can kill the high that comes with fitting into a piece of clothing that was once too tight.

Except showing up for an appointment with your 23-year-old, size 2 hair stylist and finding a cute little ultrasound pic. She wasn't even trying to get pregnant.

Thank God for Dairy Que.en's Girl Sc.out Cookie Thin Mi.nt Blizzard. Even if I don't fit into those capris anymore as a result...

Newsflash

I saw this headline on CNN.com yesterday: "Octuplets' mom says, 'I screwed up my life' "

Ya think? Really??

For the record, I have no problem with someone choosing to have 14 children if that's what they want to do - as long as they are able to support the children, rather than rely on the children to support them.

(CNN has since taken the video down, so I couldn't link to it.)