Dear Future Baby A.,

Dear Baby,

I think the first thing I want to say, that I always think about, it how wanted you are. Most people start dreaming of a baby, and have one within a year. I’ve always wanted you, for as long as I could remember. It’s the longest wait I’ve had to endure. I’ve cried over you, prayed over you, dreamed about you, sometimes I swear I can almost “want” you into existence and feel your warmth on my chest.

You are so loved, by everyone in the family. It’ll be my “story”, how you can love someone this much for years before they were even a thought. People always tell me that “you’ll never know love until you have a child”, well, I honestly don’t see how that’s true.  How you can pour everything I have into someone that doesn’t exist yet. I mean, I love you. I already want nothing but the best for you. I’d live in a cardboard box if that meant I could love you. It hurts, sometimes, how much love I have for someone that doesn’t exist.

I want nothing but the best for you.  

I’m so scared of losing my baby. I have been trying so hard for so long for you, that I’m scared that once you’re finally here, I’m going to blink and you’ll be walking and talking. I want to cherish and savor every little moment of pregnancy and infancy. Even when you’re crying your little eyes out, and heaven forbid nothing makes you happy and you cry your eyes out for month, I will be crying tears of joy just to have you here, crying.  Stay little.

You break my heart. Seriously. If you weren’t worth it, I wouldn’t do it. But I’d do this 10 times over just to have you.

I hope you get a little bit of everyone’s genetics. I hope you get your dad’s laid back personality. I hope you get my brother’s sheer genius. I hope you get my mom’s compassion and my dad’s level head. I hope you get your other grandpa’s sense of humor, and your other grandma’s spunk. I hope you get your aunt’s artistic hand. I hope you get the brightest of blue eyes, and a full head of dark hair, and my nose. Not to be picky. I just want you healthy.

I dream of your smell. There is no other scent in the world better than a new baby. It should be bottled and sold as gold. I can’t wait to put my nose to your little baby head and just inhale.

I’m not going to be the best mom ever. I’ve already come to terms with that. But I will never take you for granted. You are the apple to me and dad’s eyes.  I feel like most people have kids today just because it’s the right thing to do in the timeline of life, or even because they’re “accidents”. But we have a plan for you. We are already making “space” for you in our lives. You will never feel like you were anything than deliberately and lovingly planned. You are the best thing to happen to our marriage and to our household.

I want so many things for you. But mostly, I just want you to do what makes you happy, and be the best you can at it. I cannot wait to experience life with you. I feel like a bad person for saying this, but you’ve missed out on so much! Hurry up and get here so you don’t miss out on anything else.

Lastly, I do want you to know that I want siblings for you. I want to have siblings your age to experience things with. It was fun growing up with your uncle so close to my age. We want our lives and hearts as full as we can get them.  Just know that we will try, God willing, and we planned. But don’t be sad if we don’t have a sibling-they bite and blame things on you.

I love you, Baby A.

I yelled at him for the garbage...

Literally; the garbage.

Peoples' general reaction when I tell them I'm going through infertility treatments is "oh I'm so sorry, that must be hard", and/or "what's wrong, you or him?"

Well first off, it's both of us, and infertility is typically "50/50".

Their first comments are usually followed by the dreaded opinion/questions after: "are you going to do IVF?" "Have you considered adoption?" "Have you tried vitamins" and the WORST comment of all time "just stop trying, it'll happen when you stop trying so hard".

Okay, let me address all of these head on. 

1.No, I'm not going to do IVF. It's expensive and costly, and doesn't have a very high live birth rate (not to mention the hormones, daily shots, blood work, and Dr appointments).

2. Yes, I've considered adoption. In fact, I'm active with DHS. However, I don't want adoption to be the half-hearted "last ditch effort".

3. Yes, I took vitamins. I'm also on expensive fertility specific medication.

4. I didn't "try hard" for about a solid year. I promise, if it were that simple I wouldn't have had a surgery, I wouldn't be taking artifical hormones like they're candy, and I wouldnt be paying the fertility doctor what I do.

What it feels like...

Infertility is the hardest thing I've ever been through. Im emotionally, spiritually, physically, and mentally drained. Some days I feel like I have nothing left in me. Some days I cry for no reason, I've cried uncontrollably for good reason, I've laughed at stupid stuff like getting a period.

Its ups and downs to the point of where I'm physically hurting from being so tense. I've missed a day of work because I couldn't stop crying.

The only thing I can compare the feeling to is driving behind a Loomis (cash) truck, with $100 flying out, and not being able to roll down your window to catch them.

A few things people don't understand:

1. I feel violated/vulnerable all. the. time. I'm in the doctor's office 3-4 times a month. I'm getting poked, prodded, and most of the time having uncomfortable ultrasounds. It's not fun trying to explain to my (male) bosses why I have to go in to the doctor. I don't even like the fact that they know...you know...what's going on. I have to find the "perfect" exact time for intimacy.My modesty went out the window 2 years ago.

2. I feel lonely...  I love talking to my friends. I love hanging out with them. I love that they have kids, and I love their kids. But I'm stuck somewhere in between being the young, free married couple, and being the young mom. There are not a ton of occupants where I live. There aren't a lot of women who truly empathize with me, or want to.

4. I feel sad. A lot...
Most of my friends are new moms. Most of my friends didn't plan their babies. If they did, they started planning long after I started trying, and of course they got pregnant instantly. I don't like going to baby showers. It's not personal-I just don't want to be the hovering black cloud. I can have a happy day, until I see a baby bump. (I covet the day I can't see my toes) It makes me really sad knowing I can't do the most natural thing God intended for women.

5. I'm frustrated...
Its, again, frustrating seeing my friends start on baby #2. It's frustrating seeing them complain about pregnancies or the struggles of being a mom. It's frustrating spending time and money, and then my body doesn't cooperate. I have no control over that. It's frustrating seeing mom's who don't want to be mom's or kids who receive less than stellar care. It's frustrating hearing in-laws talk about the future without including my child in it. It kills me every Halloween not having a cute little baby to dress up, or having Christmas family photos.

6. I did not leave this decision to my stepchild... That may seem harsh, but hear me out. When me having a child is brought up, often times he's brought up, and how he feels about it. The harsh truth of it, was he was not included in this decision. That's not to say he wasnt considered. But my having a child isn't relevant to my husband's custody, or my step sons well being. In fact, I consider him lucky that he has a HUGE heads up as to what's in store for him. Most kids don't get that privilege. He'll always be well provided for. He'll always have the attention he needs. He'll always be loved the same.



This all being said, I do find positives in working with fertility. I do enjoy time with my husband alone. I know that's going to be rare when a baby comes. I do LOVE a clean house, and fully appreciate it right now. I've started preparing myself now for the mess that comes with a baby later. Sleeping in an not.doing.anything.all.day on Saturday. Love it. Take full advantage of it. This may be strange for some of you to hear, but (I take after my dad), I love working. I love not having to take off because of a sick kid, and I love my (few) moments of sanity.

Anyway....I think that's all for now, folks!

Baby steps

My fertility problems started long before I was married...Skip to THE ACTUAL JOURNEY for where I'm currently at with this process

In fact, most people don't realize just how long ago they started. When I was 15, I started having crippling pains in my stomach. Then one week, I couldn't even walk upright. The doctor's thought I had a tumor, and upon operation, they discover that my left fallopian tube was prolapsed (knotted). It was removed, and I was told I could have children with no problem.

Fast forward to when I was 21. I was married in March of 2012, and almost immediately decided to get off of birth control. The first 8 months I was off of everything, nothing happened. I didn't see a doctor because we decided that we weren't "really trying" to get pregnant.

The first time I saw a doctor...

The first time I saw a doctor (OB/GYN) was in the summer of 2013. I let her know my concerns that it had been almost a year with no pregnancy. She said that because I had an exam last year, she couldn't give me one, but sent me home with a calendar and chart. I went back to her 2 months later, and she still did nothing. I went to her a total of 4 times and every time got sent home with "just keep trying" and a calendar. Who was I to question a doctor?

The second time I saw a doctor...

I moved on from the first doctor to a family physician due to other health concerns. I voiced my concerns, but she was (understandably) more concerned with my high blood pressure. The more I saw her, the more unconcerned she seemed to be about my not conceiving, despite her promise of "we'll figure something out". 

The third time I saw a doctor...

(2 years trying to conceive) Third doctor is the charm, right? I even did research and drove 30 minutes one way for this one. The first visit I had with her (another OB), she almost sent me away with "keep trying", but at the last minute decided to give me a physical exam. She found a cyst immediately. Imagine my shock that something was legitimately not right after 2 doctors refusing to give me a physical exam (sarcasm). I visited her 2 more times when she FINALLY gave me the same "try for another 3 months"...so I did, and I called in 3 months and couldn't even get in.

The fourth time I saw a doctor...

I know, I know. You'd think I'd learn, but really-4 doctors in a 2 year span? I was learning, please believe. Enter Dr. Breed. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about my one and only visit with Dr. Breed. He sat down, listened to every concern I had, watched me cry, had a few words to say about previous doctors. Really-it was so refreshing to have a doctor actually LISTEN to me. And...he gave me the golden ticket. He gave me a referral to a legitimate fertility specialist. The best in Oklahoma, to be exact. Bless your heart.

The fifth time I saw a doctor...

I'll never forget it. It was November 2014, I walked down the hall in Dr. Kallenberger's office, sat down at his large desk, and the first words out of his mouth "Why do you think you need to be here?" That phrase just sums him up. He's no nonsense. I went through my spiel that I'd been working on the past 2 1/2 years, and the next words out of his mouth? "I don't care what you've been told. We WILL get you pregnant, somehow, some way." (In my memory, I float out of his office on a cloud, throwing candy to all the nurses)

The actual JOURNEY...

Like I said, it was December 2014 by this point. 8 months ago. My cycles at this point have been everything but regular. I needed major help. The first thing Dr. Kallenberger needed to know was if I could even have a cycle. Enter progesterone shot. I would become very familiar with these. It's a thick oil that's injected into your butt. There's no way to say that nicely. Best part? It's hormones, so not only does one whole cheek hurt, but you become a raging, crying lunatic because of a shot. Turns out, I can have a cycle after all.

Second problem is that they need to look at my tubes (or TUBE, since the doctors took the other one out). He had me do an HSG test. Keep in mind, they can only do one "thing" per cycle. So I had to go in again, get another PG shot, and wait for my cycle to start. And if there's anything worse than a PG shot, it's an HSG test! What happens is, they use a catheter, inject dye into my uterus, and also do a baseline ultrasound to capture the photos. THIS HURT. For obvious reasons, I don't know what contractions feel like, but I think this was accurate.

I had a blockage in the only other tube I had remaining. The luck. So, I had to wait some more, get another PG shot, and schedule a surgery. At this point in time, I was just thrilled that I had a doctor that knew what was going on. I also had about 6 or 7 friends that had new babies. Basically, it was getting to the emotional point for me (I'll cover that in another post). I went in to my pre-op appointment with my doctor, and he basically told me that things didn't look too good, and he didn't think surgery would help. I thought about cancelling the surgery. I cried...all day I cried.

Late March I had the surgery. I remember waking up and seeing my doctor, and willing myself to communicate and comprehend. With a smile on his face he said "it fills and spills!" I'm sure there are more scientific terms than that, and to this day I'm not entirely sure what it means, but all I knew was THE SURGERY WORKED. 

About 3 weeks later, I got a cycle, on time, naturally, for the first time in who knows how long. Seriously...this was BIG. I went skipping through a field of daisies to my follow up appointment (June-ish). He said that we were going to start on medicine and try an IUI. The first medicine I took was Clomid, at the maximum dose. The first month I took it was my second month with a natural cycle, so I was in the dark and trying to learn how to track ovulation. It wasn't successful. I still don't know if it was the medicine not working or me just not tracking ovulation correctly.

The second medicine I got put on was Femara. It's actually a breast cancer drug that works with hormones.This was July (a month ago). 2 weeks after finishing my Femara, I went up for my ultrasound (I have to do AT LEAST 2 a month), and everything looked perfect. They were going to do the IUI, but I needed a shot of Ovidrel. It basically forces your body to ovulate within 36 hours. They failed to tell me, however, that the only place I could get the shot was at the hospital. So, long story short, I didn't get to do the IUI.

This month (this last week, to be exact), I went to 3 baseline ultrasounds. My eggs just didn't cooperate with the medicine, and I was unable to do the IUI yet again.I was informed that there are more aggressive ways to force my body into maturing eggs (daily injectables and Dr. visits, WITH bloodwork-no thanks), but we'll just try again next month.And that's where I am.

My husband and I both actually have "fertility issues", but that's something I'll cover another time. It's been emotionally, physically, and spiritually draining on me, to say the least. I'll again touch on that another time, but everyone seems to want the specifics. It's fascinating what the body can do, it really is.

Blessings and baby dust,

Cait