Finally, a stick figure family I can get behind...

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LJ’s 3rd Birthday

As I mentioned in my previous post Mr. Mags and I spent September 11^th celebrating our friends L and B’s sons third birthday.  They have two boys, also L and B to make things nice and confusing for you!  SO, we will go with LJ and BR.  BR is just three months old and as cute as could be.  LJ holds a special place in my heart though, not sure why.  Mr. Mags and I love to hang out with him.  I mean, he’s cool.  He’s 3 and he just has that cool vibe.  Probably because his parents are uber cool too.  I have known L for 13 years-yikes!  We lived in the dorms together as freshman when we were in college, then moved to an apartment complex with different roomies, but right next door to each other, then into a giant house with 7 other girls (that would be a story for a whole other blog!) and finally into a smaller house with one other friend our senior year.  We’ve been through a lot and are always there fore each other.  She knows of our IF struggles and always lends a sympathetic ear.  And more importantly she is a total foodie.  And a size 4.  AFTER having kids.  Think tiny, adorable, spitfire of a woman with the appetite of a football player.  SO not fair, but I digress. 

So we arrived to the party of 5 ½ screaming kids (1/2 being BR) and several adults.  LJ saw me and screamed “Maaaaaaaaaaags!!!!”  It’s so nice to be loved by children.  He bounded out of the bouncy house and gave us big hugs.  L came over and told us that when anyone asked who LJ invited to his party he always responded “Mags.  Mags and Mr. Mags.  Mr. Mags is my friend.”  *Begin tugging at heart strings, incident one.* 

We greeted everyone and got settled in.  It was a happy surprise to see an old from college, it had been a few years.  Her kids were there having a grand old time.  After a while I looked around and realized Mr. Mags and I were the only ones without kids, aside from LJ’s REAL aunt and uncle who were in attendance.  (They decided long ago to live child free.) I began to feel pathetic.  Seriously, what was I doing at a 3 year olds birthday party sans kids?!?  Yes, I did make him a special cake as requested: dinosaurs.  But honestly, I looked around and began to feel very self conscious.  Am I that couple that gets invited to all of the birthday parties and special events and people look at us and think, “Ooooh, that’s so sad, you can see it in their eyes.  They wanted kids so bad, but it never happened.  What a shame.”  *Continue tugging at heart strings, incident two.* 

Then I was asked to hold BR for a while-Yippee!  Babies!  As I was holding him, he spit up a little which didn’t really bother me, but BR’s grandma came over and practically snatched him out of my arms and didn’t give me a chance to react or clean him up myself.  Apparently because I am childless I don’t know how to handle this.  *More tugging at hear strings, incident three.*

Then I thought, really Mags?  You are going to let this get to you?!?  Nope! Oh, look, little D lost his shoe, I’ll put it back on for him.  (Little D doesn’t know me at all.)  Little D started to panic and almost fell backwards while I tried to help him with his shoe.  Luckily his mom (the old college friend) was there to catch him.  She totally brushed it off as no big deal, but it got to me.  *Commence final tugging at heart strings.* I felt SO out of place and pathetic that I was trying too hard.  I’m not a mom, I don’t fit in.  Why am I trying?

Mr. Mags and I left shortly after presents were opened and cake was shared.  I got in the car and cried a good portion of the 45 minute drive home.  Oh, and add that to feeling really pathetic.  I drove 45 minutes to go to a 3 year olds birthday party. 

*sigh*

I’m sure some of these feelings were exaggerated by hormones.  *please, oh please let that be it* September 11^th was CD2, so I’m going to blame it on that. 

Does anyone else out there ever feel that way?  Anyone……..?  Buller??  Buller ……??

9/11: A Miscarrage (No. 1) Story

I can hardly believe September 11, 2001 was ten years ago.  That day is so clear in my memory, as it is for everyone I am sure.  I was in my senior year at college walking in to an early morning class on media aesthetics.  The TV was on, which was not unusual in this class, but the room was silent.  Everyone’s world was rocked and changed forever. 

Ten years later it still stings, but I like to think of the fact that we survived as a Country and are still surviving.  September 11^th holds more pain for me aside from what happened in 2001.  Two years ago to the day I had my first miscarriage.  Mr. Mags and I had gone to an RE, had a plan to start IVF, then he got laid off.  We put the plan on hold and I focused on living a healthy lifestyle.  Months went by while Mr. Mags looked for a new job.  It was starting to really dampen his spirits and my focus went into helping him in anyway I could…until one night I woke up and randomly thought, “huh…that’s funny.  I know I don’t have regular periods, but it has been a really long time since I got mine.”  I got up and stumbled into the bathroom at an ungodly hour and proceeded to dig in the cupboard until, bingo! Found it.  The last HPT I angrily shoved in the back of the bathroom cupboard.  I took the test, and wouldn’t you know it.  Positive.  To say I was stunned was an understatement.  I bounced onto the bed startling Mr. Mags and said, “I work!! My body works!”  He was a bit confused and obviously sleepy and just stared at me.  I shoved the test in his face, which really did no good because he needs his glasses to see anything.  “I’m pregnant.”  I will never forget those words.  We laughed, I cried.  It was amazing.  And the old fashioned way none-the-less!  Naturally I needed to check with every brand of HPT but it was still only about 3:00 in the morning so we waited until the nearest store opened and loaded up.  All of them were blaringly positive.

I scheduled an appointment with my OB.  I honestly had no idea how far along I was, what with inconsistent periods and all, but my best calculation put me at 6.5 weeks.  We told my parents the next day and they were elated but told by us to be “cautiously optimistic”.  The next day I started spotting, but thanks to Dr. Google I wasn’t too worried about it.  I proceeded to get ready to go to my friend L’s son’s (LJ) first birthday party.  My parents were invited, so Mr. Mags and I drove the 45 minutes over to the party with them.  I started cramping as soon as we got into the car, but hoped and prayed, and prayed some more it would go away.  About 15 minutes into the party I had to walk out in tears in so much pain.  I just couldn’t be there.  It was too much and it hurt SO bad.  I am not one to cry, especially in front of my parents, but the pain was so sever I couldn’t help it.  My Mom told my friend L I wasn’t feeling good and we had to go.  It was the longest drive home ever with my Dad debating should we go to the hospital and my Mom in tears in the front seat and Mr. Mags doing everything he could do to comfort me, but not really knowing what to do.  All I knew is that it was over.  I’ve never known pain like that before, physically yes, but also emotionally.  I suppose that makes me very blessed, and for that I am thankful.

This September 11^th we spent at LJ’s 3^rd birthday party.  He has turned into such a sweet and cute little boy and I just love him to pieces.  A little piece of my heart will always ache with the “what ifs”, but it’s wonderful to have something positive to celebrate on that day, although I have to say I was ready to leave after a while, but more on that later.

Hug your friends and your family.  And eat a cupcake.  Cupcakes make everyone happy.

Thoughts of an infertile...

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.  I’ve had infertile thoughts.”

“Impure thoughts?”

“Oh, uh…no, no, INFERTILE thoughts.”

Yep, that’s me.  Oh, but wait, I’m not Catholic, I’m Episcopalian.  Well, a lapsed Episcopalian at that.  At least for the last couple of months anyway.  Since my third miscarriage.  *sigh* 

It boggles my mind how so many of us infertiles continue to have faith in God.  How do you ladies/gents do it?  I was raised in a religious household.  Baptized as a baby, confirmed at 13, have wonderful, meaningful relationships with my “church family”, the whole bit.  I have loved and embraced Christianity and worshiping in the Episcopal way, after all, where there are three or four Episcopalians gathered there is always a fifth! *slaps knee* Get it, get it!?!  Kind of true though.

Anyway, this blog is not meant to be a religious blog, or religious take on infertility and IVF, but it will come up from time to time since faith has always played an important role in my life.  And this loss of faith I am experiencing really is, well, devastating.  

I suppose this blog is going to be whatever it develops into on its own.  As my sister would say, “I’ll let it happen organically”.  *he he* I read so many amazing blogs, IVF blogs, crafting blogs, food blogs (good lord-the food blogs!!), so I thought, what the heck?  Why not start one myself?  Even if no one reads it, I figure it can be sort of like free therapy.  I have taken so much comfort in the other IVF/Infertility blogs that I read and am so appreciative of those telling their story. So here I am, ready to share mine and commiserate with all you lucky people experiencing the joys of what infertility has to offer!