Babysitter Bites the Dust

As part of his Christmas present to us, my brother-in-law, Chris, offered to babysit LMH on Thursday night so that The Hubby, his parents and I could go see Harry Potter (because, of course, Chris proclaimed in disgust that he was "not going anywhere near a Harry Potter theater"). Though not so good with adults, he is great with kids. Perhaps they’re on a closer wavelength or something? But, seriously, he’s always been great with kids. I knew LMH would be in good hands.

Before we left, I got bottles ready, set out his wubbanub, showed Chris how the swing worked, setup the playgym and all of LMH's other favorites so that the odds of it being a great night for both of them would go up a bit. We left for the movie at about 6:15. A little after the movie started (probably still during the insanely long previews), around 7:30 maybe, The Hubby got a text from his brother: “I can’t get him to stop crying. Any suggestions?” At that point, I realized the one thing I had forgot to tell him…LMH can get downright cranky right before bed. He gets so tired that he screams out of sheer exhaustion. There’s not much you can do when he gets that way except walk around with him or, in a pinch, let him cry it out. Nine times out of ten, I’m able to calm him down just by doing laps around the house, but occasionally he’s just over stimulated and needs a break. I neglected to tell Chris that, but I thought that once he got the text reply from The Hubby that all would be well. Back to the movie…We didn’t hear anything else, so assumed walking had done the trick.

A little after 10, as we’re leaving the theater, my mother-in-law checks her phone. Turns out that she missed a couple of texts…one at 7:30 (same one Hubby got) and another at 8:30…in all caps asking for someone to call him NOW. She hadn’t felt her phone vibrate when either text came in. We called…All was well. LMH was asleep, but Chris was mad…that whole not so good with people thing again.

In the end, all he had to do was let LMH cry it out in his crib. He said it took less than fifteen minutes for him to cry (er…scream?) himself to sleep…that was after an hour of frustration for both of them. I fully believe that babies can sense when their caretakers are upset. And I’m sure that, as LMH got more and more upset, so did Chris. It was a self-perpetuating cycle up until the point that he put LMH in the crib so they could both catch a breath.

Up until recently, I had trouble with the whole cry it out philosophy. It’s only been in the last two weeks or so that I’ve been okay with letting him cry, although still not more than 15 minutes or so. He’s gotten very good at self-soothing and it just seems like sometimes the only thing that will calm him down is the absence of stimulation—calming or otherwise. So, I would have thought I might have been upset that Chris ended up letting him cry it out. But, as it turned out, I almost wished he’d put him in the crib earlier…it might have saved a ton of stress for both of them! I think we all learned something that night...
1) Bedtime rituals are an important thing to tell the babysitter
2) Don’t call my mother-in-law in the middle of a movie if you need something urgently
3) Mom is okay with CIO, in moderation

I very much appreciated Chris’ Christmas gift of babysitting. And, now that we’ve learned what works for both of them, I’d definitely let him watch LMH again. I’m pretty sure I won’t be getting the chance anytime soon, though. His first LMH babysitting experience is probably his last for a very long time. Silly Uncle Chris…babies cry, didn’t you know?

Perfect Moment Monday: Full Circle

Growing up, my family was sort of “holiday religious.” We didn’t necessarily go to church every Sunday, but when holidays rolled around; we got dressed up and headed to church with the rest of the extended family. Prayer circles were sort of that way, too. Though the extended family didn’t necessarily pray before every meal, when we were all together we always prayed in thanks and for safe travels home.

This past weekend was LMH’s first extended family Thanksgiving. There were so many perfect moments to choose from, but it’s the prayer circle that stands out. LMH was actually just about asleep in his soon-to-be new cousin’s swing when I picked him up so he could be a part of it. I held him facing outward, so he could see everyone. And, since my uncle and cousin, on either side of me, couldn’t hold my hand (because I was holding LMH), they held his foot and hand. He happily gripped them (or kicked them) back.

By the end of the short prayer he was cranky. I had disturbed his nap, after all. I didn’t mind, though. He had been there. He had shared that one perfect moment with three generations of our family, just like I remember sharing it with the three generations that came before him.

My mom, LMH’s “Nana,” brought a baby’s first Thanksgiving onesie for him to wear. But, I really wish there was a onesie that said “Mommy is thankful for ME.” Things were just so different a year ago and I’m beyond thankful that we have these moments to share now. Saturday’s prayer circle was one of those moments. Last year I was praying for him; This year I’m praying in thanks.

Please head over to Write Mind, Open Heart to share your Perfect Moment.

It's (Almost) Really Happening!

This is really beginning to feel real...that we might actually be starting IVF #1 this time next month.  Next month...January!  Seriously!  Thanks to my "I can't even begin to describe how wonderful they are" in-laws, our remaining financial concerns surrounding the IVF prepayment have been solved.  I seriously can't even begin to describe how blessed and loved I feel right now...that Hubby's parents feel so strongly about us being able to start our family that they're willing to support it in such a generous way; that these people who I'm not related to by blood have always treated me as if I was born to be a part of their family.  I never feel like the "daughter-in-law" the way I hear so many other people describe it. 

There is no stigma attached to "mother-in-law" or "father-in-law" in our family either.  I use the labels to help others understand the relationships, but I don't say it with disdain and I correct people when they assume the worst.  In fact, so many people seem amazed (or aghast) when they hear that Hubby's dad is living with us for while the ILs are mid-relocation.  Truth be told, though, I'll be sad to see him go.  He goes out of his way to make our lives easier.  And, I know that we're lucky to be able to share this extra time with him.  His relationship with Hubby is stronger than ever and I know we also have this transition time to thank.  I'm fully aware that this kind of in-law relationship is a rarity, and I plan to never take it for granted!

Of course, now that we know for sure that we can actually pay for IVF #1, the one remaining obstacle falls squarely on me...me and my remaining 3.5 pounds, that is!  I hit a bit of a plateau the first half of this week.  FIL, who also used to be a personal trainer, quizzed about what I had been eating and my exercise program.  As it turned out, he thought I needed to mix it up a bit more, so I started doing some Ji.llian Mich.chaels workouts (of Big.gest L.oser fame).  OMG!  Seriously, they're killer...but WOW do they work.  I started those workouts on Wednesday and, after sitting still on the scales for three days, I dropped another 2.5 pounds as of today.  So, only 3.5 to go!  That seems totally doable by next week.

Next week!?  Next week, I will hopefully be signing the trial consent form for our first IVF cycle!  I'm struggling a bit with how I should feel about this, because, truthfully, I mostly feel excited.  But, I'm also completely aware of the fact (and keep reminding Hubby) that IVF #1 may not work for us.  I don't want either of us to look at it as a sure thing.  But, I do want us to fill ourselves with the belief that it could happen.  And, not only that it could, but that there are strong odds in our favor. 

I haven't figured out how to temper my excitement at the chance, the first real chance, IVF #1 provides us with nervousness I feel about the negative "what ifs."  I'm by no means seeing it as a sure thing.  My excitement doesn't come from that place.  It comes from the fact that I want a shot at this.  I want a shot at starting our family and this clinical trial is our best shot. 

I'm also still in a bit of shock and disbelief at how the saying "everything happens for a reason" is coming true in our lives.  That we would have gotten the answers we needed when we did and ended up receiving the IVF recommendation right on the tail end of this trial, but still with enough time to take part, is amazing in and of itself.  That we waited as long as we did (until after our move South) to start TTC and ended up being here, with access to the trial, when we need it most is equally amazing.  Then, there's the fact that the trial was supposed to end in October but has been extended, for unknown reasons, just long enough for us to take part.  Or last, but certainly not least, that those we love (and who love us) were so supportive that they were willing to help us make the last pieces of the puzzle together.  None of this is lost on me. 

For years, I was ready to TTC and Hubby wasn't.  He had good reasons and I understood them...I just didn't necessarily like them.  Looking back, though, it all makes sense.  I feel confident that this was the path that was always meant for us.  I fought it for much too long, because I struggle so much with the unknown.  Perhaps our TTC/IF journey is God's way of finally teaching me to trust His path.  That's a message I've been hearing for awhile, but I've struggled to learn.  Now I get it.  And so, I trust that the trial will not close before I can lose this last 3.5 pounds or before my cycle starts mid-January.  And, I will continue to believe that, no matter the results, there's a reason for the journey (though that may be the most difficult part if the results aren't what we hope for).

Sorry for the long and rambling post (and I'm aware that many of my posts are long, they're just not usually this all over the place...at least I hope they're not!).  My thoughts are definitely a bit jumbled right now.  Excitement and nerves all bundled up in my brain looking for a place to escape!  And, I guess my blog was it!  I'm admittedly not sure how I should feel, because right now I continue to feel like Christmas has come a bit early this year.  I suspect that the true weight of this may hit me when we sign the consent, and even more so when I've got protocol in hand.  But, excitement at the chance seems an appropriate feeling in this moment, so I'm going to keep riding the positive energy as long as I can!

Beyond

Thanksgiving Day began like any other, with a flurry of cooking and conversation.  Around noon, we found a break in the action between the turkey baking and the sweet potato marshmallows browning to exchange gifts since we wouldn't see Hubby's family over Christmas.  It was here that things took a turn toward all things "beyond."

Hubby and I had chosen smaller-than-usual, but meaningful gifts for each of them.  I've been known to go a bit overboard with Christmas gifts in the past, but I'm determined to stick to the budget this year as we prepare for whatever next year brings us.  Luckily, both families understand.  And, of course, sometimes the thought that went into the gift makes the difference anyway.  Other times, both the thought, and the gift itself, blow you away.  That was how we felt when we opened the ILs gift to us...a check that will cover a good chunk of the differential where my and our HRA leave off.  We were beyond grateful.

A little while after the gift exchange, our dear friends and their three-year-old daughter, E, joined us for Thanksgiving dinner. They are very much like family to us, and proving to be even more so all the time! So much so, that we've wholeheartedly and humbly agreed to raise E as our own if something were ever to happen to them. They are wonderful, genuine and generous.  They also have been down the IF road before and just "get it."  Sometimes, often actually, we don't even have to say what we're feeling for them to understand.  In fact, it almost feels more like a brother (to Hubby) and SIL relationship than "just" friends.  "Friends" just isn't descriptive enough.  They have always and continue to go beyond that.

As is usual when they come to visit, Hubby and A stepped out to the patio to smoke a cigar (or two).  During that conversation, A asked how things were going on the fertility front.  Hubby gave him the update that we're heading towards IUI or IVF early next year and that all signs point to IVF.  He said that we were just trying to get a few more of our "financial ducks in a row" before we moved on to IVF. 

It was next statement that left us beyond words for the second time that day.  They offered to loan us the difference where the insurance and HRA left off.  There was no sales pitch, no "ask" from us.  It was entirely unsolicited.  It's one thing to ask parents, another altogether to ask friends.  Likewise, that minor detail makes the offer that much more amazing and humbling.  I'm still shocked, amazed, humbled, just truly beyond words at the generosity of our friends and family.  If their offer never comes to fruition...if it turns out to be too good to be true, or if we turn out not even to need and/or take it, that's okay.  In this case, the offer speaks volumes and that generosity will never be forgotten. 

By Thanksgiving night, we were once again heading towards the IVF clinical trial, that we had previously written off for not being financially feasible quite yet, and hopeful that this time next year there might be another little somebody at the Thanksgiving table, albeit in utero.  It is for the shared hope that the gifts represent, more than the gifts themselves, that I remain beyond thankful....thankful for the hope, the friends, the family, the blessing, and beyond.

Nutshell Thanksgiving

I'm not even sure where to start with recapping our Thanksgiving week.  It was amazing in so many ways!  We actually did Christmas with Hubby's family last week, too, so we took to calling it Thanksmas.  We decorated the house for Christmas a bit early this year to surprise MIL.  Despite the early date, the Christmas Spirit was alive and well at our house, and it wasn't just because of the decorations (though, I'm getting ahead of myself now).

Our pre-Thanksgiving festivities on Wednesday included excellent results from our DNA Fragmentation testing!  What a wonderful way to start the holiday!

The rest of the week was filled with wonderful family, amazing friends, great food and some good shopping.  I came out of the week with renewed hope and a full heart.  I'm going to stop now because the big news of the week deserves its own post or two. 

I will say this, though...God has blessed us with amazing friends and family.  I am awed by them and Him.  What seemed far a few days ago now seems very near.  I am thankful...actually, thankful doesn't even begin to cover it...for those we love and who love us.

The Donor Discussion

I started writing this post a few weeks ago as a way of putting this idea to rest.  I thought that if I wrote it down, I could release it.  That's sort of how writing works for me.  I file it away here so that I can start to process it in the scope of the rest of my day/life/journey.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.  This time, it's still haunting me.

From the beginning, long before we ever knew for sure that we were dealing with IF, back when we just knew that the odds were high based on family history, we said that all options would be on the table.  We've always been open to adoption, if it came to that, but it was always imagined as the last option on the journey. 

I had never really thought or considered donor sperm until we got the official IF diagnosis and I started reading blogs and message boards.  I brought it up once then.  In the beginning, before the full scope had set in for Hubby, he had indicated that it was something we could consider.  In his mind, it was the option before adoption.  After all biological means failed, we'd try donor, then adoption. 

That made sense to me, too, for awhile.  But, when it came time to actually start seriously moving toward IVF, I couldn't help but wonder if donor sperm was a "better" choice for us.  At first my definition of better was comprised mostly of the fact that it was so much cheaper.  I brought the subject up again after our trip to the RE last week.  Hubby pretty quickly said that he'd like to try IVF first.  So be it, I thought, and I wanted to file the though away.  Thought considered and rejected.  Move on.  After all, it wasn't my biological link we'd be foregoing.  How far could I really push it?  Biology trumps cost any day.

But, I haven't been able to file it away.  It's sort of lurking in the outer recesses of my thought patterns lately.  I can't process it.  If it were just the cost differential, I think I could lay the thought to rest.  To be honest, Hubby and I haven't always spent our money as wisely as we should.  If there were any place to overspend, this certainly seems like it.  There's more to it than that, though.

Remember in this post when I talked about the moment when my mother-in-law vividly remembers hoping beyond hope that her sons would never have to experience the pain that depression had caused her and my father-in-law?  I know that there's no hard evidence that depression is genetic, but Hubby's family may be the case study.  Looking back, my in-laws are now fairly certain that Hubby's grandpa suffered from chronic depression.  My father-in-law, brother-in-law and, of course, Hubby do, as well.  Clearly, there's a prevalence of depression on the male side of the lineage. 

And, this isn't the "pop a Prozac" and it's gone kind.  This is the "take multiple anti-depressants and still suffer" kind.  This is the "deal with it everyday" kind; the "sometimes depression rules our life" kind.  I talked in that same post about both the toll the depression takes and the strength we gain from it.  But, the bottom line is that I still wouldn't wish it on anyone, let alone our own son.

I feel like we have an opportunity to end the cycle.  I don't want us to have to wonder if our future son will have to battle the same internal demons or if his future wife will have to carry the same burden.  I know there's no guarantee.  The donor could have a similar prevalence in his family.  But, if we have the opportunity to try, shouldn't we take it?

So, I feel like I should bring up the subject again with Hubby this weekend.  I feel like I should lay this new wrinkle out for discussion.  I struggle with how to bring it up, because it's one thing to say that it's a cost factor.  That's something we can work through.  It's something entirely different to point out that his very biology is the problem.  And, the thought of pointing that out, though it will be more of a reminder than a surprise, pains me. 

Then, I struggle with how we compromise on this.  It's not my genetics, my biological link, at stake.  If he still says he'd rather not, at least not now, am I ok with that?  I feel like I can only push it so far.  But, how far?  And, what are the ramifications of choosing donor?  I can't even begin to imagine all of the issues that we'd have to consider, both now and later. 

I'm not even sure how ready I am to put that option on the table, but it seems like something we should consider before moving to IVF and I'm sure we haven't given it its fair share of discussion time yet.  Here's the running list of pros and cons in my head:
Pro
Chance to end the cycle of depression
Lower cost

Con
No biological link to Hubby

That con is a huge one.  I just can't process it.  Biology may trump cost, but when biology is the issue, we find ourselves back at square one.

So, blog friends, I need your help.  I know that many of you have considered, conceived, or are moving down the path of using donor sperm.  How did you decide?  How did you broach that conversation with DH?  What did your pros and cons list look like?

Hug and Make Up

I'm behind...so much to say this week to get the blog caught up!  Let's start where I left off.  We do a lot of hugghing in my family.  It's not like we hug before leave the house; more like we hug before we leave a room.  The last time I purposely ignored my mom for longer than a few hours was probably when I was nine years old.  Last week I made it 2 days.

In the end, neither of us could stand it anymore.  And, as I imagined, it was mostly a misunderstanding.  Mostly.  To be fair, I think that Mom really does just see things a bit differently than us.  Though she thinks the clinical trial sort of gives us a pass on her rule, she also thinks that only a year of trying is probably too soon to be asking anyone for help.  Some of you may agree.  And, that's ok.  But, on this point we're all just going to have to agree to disagree.  Our point on the subject is the same as some of you that commented on the last post...delaying the first IVF try only decreases the odds.  The longer we wait, the more likely that the problems were facing increase (my AMH/FSH, for example...which we're still waiting on the results of).  We're also looking at it a bit like "what's the worst that could happen from asking?" especially when such wonderful things possibly come as a result of asking. 

I guess it just comes down to that we're not going to let pride get in the way of starting our family.  That's not to say that we take it lightly or that asking comes easy.  We don't and it doesn't.

So, just to be clear.  My mom is not like the many other people in our lives right now who doesn't get it and doesn't try.  Mom tries and most of the time she gets it right.  She just happened to be having a really bad day on the same day that I was having a pretty darn bad day.  It happens...and we cut the people we love some slack because 99.9% of the time they get it right.  Love you Mom!

Marla...to answer your question on this clinical trial I keep talking about, here's the info.  Our RE is currently the only one in the Metroplex participating in IVF trials.  The one they're currently accepting patients for is testing a subcutaneous version of progesterone for after the ET.  Because it's testing the progesterone and not the stims, the discount isn't huge, but it's enough to make it worth our while.  Two minor catches...1) The trial is wrapping up in the next "few" months (no one can really say when because it's at the drug company's discretion); 2) I have to lose 7-8 pounds in short order for us to secure our spot...assuming we can pay for it in the first place.

Halloween at Ronald McDonald House

I spent this evening volunteering with much of the rest of my department at the annual Ronald McDonald House Halloween Carnival. RMDH is the designated charity of my company, so we're there many times a year from cooking dinner to this annual Hallowee tradition.

I can't say enough good things about the experience. First of all, it was FUN! We dressed up as cartoon characters...I was Belle from "Beauty and the Beast!" And, I should point out that my hair is actually very short...that's mostly a ponytail extension attached with a million bobby pins! ;-)

But besides the fun, spending time with the RMDH kids is a great reminder to be grateful for what DH and I do have even in the midst of these TTC struggles. Bottom line: It's hard to feel sorry for yourself when your trying to make kids with cancer and their families smile. I'm grateful for the reminder...Though they will probably never know it, I feel certain that those kids (and their amazing familes) gave us as much as we gave them. They are in my prayers tonight.

Soul Food

My friends, I have one thought to sum up this weekend:  My soul is happy, waistline be damned!  Admittedly, in the beginning, the weekend didn't seem like it would end so well.  I drove up to baggage claim to pick up Mom at the airport with what seemed like a perfectly fine tire.  Three minutes later I had a ridiculously flat tire.  Forty-five minutes later, Hubby was there to save the day. 

After a "quick trip" off to the tire store to replace the spare and a couple hours behind schedule, we were on our way to the Texas State Fair.  It was a perfect day for the fair...a crisp, cool, only marginally crowded day.  We were on a mission to do the following: try the light rail (this was our transportation from downtown, where we parked the car, to the fair in order to avoid insanely high parking prices at the fair!), see Big Tex, eat Fried Snickers, eat Fried Peanut Butter Cup Macaroons, eat Fried Peaches and Cream.  As you can see, there was a lot of eating on our agenda!

Crossing the light rail and Big Tex off the list was easy.  Some of the food items required considerably more patience.  The Fried Peaches and Cream, in particular, required a feet-numbing hour-and-a-half stay in line!  Peaches and Cream was the "Best Taste" category winner at the Fair's fried food contest this year.  Everbody and their brother wanted to try it!  And, it was worth the wait in line just to say we'd tried it (not to mention that it was pretty darn good!).

But, my favorite fried food, by far, was the Fried Peanut Butter Cup Macaroon.  It was another finalist in the fried food contest, brought to you from the people that won the contest for Fried Snickers a few years back.  This little morsel were absolutely divine.  Coconut macaroon cookie dough wrapped around peanut butter cups and deep fried to melty, ooeey, gooey goodness!  These have inspired me to try a non-fried version of this cookie next time I'm in the mood for some baking.  Simply divine!  (Mom loved her friend snickers, too!)

So, I may have gained 10 pounds this weekend, but it feels well worth it.  And, not so much for the fried food, but for the wonderful, well-timed mother-daughter time and the fact that we can say we finally did it.  We finally made it to the the Fair together and had a great time doing!  The fried food wasn't bad either!

The Baggage we Bring to the Island: Part 1

Like father, like son...

In most families, it goes something like this:

"I see Xavier got your throwing arm!" Like father, like son!

"Aidan looks like quite a character, just like his dad!" Like father, like son!

"Caleb seems good with the ladies, too!" Like father, like son!

In our family, the phrase takes on a slightly different connotation. My mother-in-law has a painfully vivid recollection of a moment driving home from the doctor, after my father-in-law was diagnosed with severe chronic depression, where she hoped beyond hope that her sons would never have to know that same anguish. She has an equally vivid memory of a similar wish that her sons would never have to experience the social stigma and myriad of complications (emotional and otherwise) that accompany male factor infertility.

Those particular wishes were left unfulfilled. God had a different plan, fate if you will, that only years later came into focus. Sometimes she apologizes to me for the genetic cards my husband (and I through marriage) was dealt. Having experienced both depression and MFI first hand, she wouldn't wish it on anyone, least of all her own son. Having only begun to walk a few steps in her shoes, I couldn't agree more.

But there's more to it than that. What I already know from the years we've spent battling my husband's depression is that sometimes the depression takes everything you've got. It sucks us dry and leaves us marooned on the shores of a desert island. Sometimes he forgets that we're together on the island and that's just one of the many reasons it's so painful. But, when we find each other again and are there together, battling the endless baking sun and the battering waves, we're okay....eventually we make it back to the mainland, and we're stronger for it. Much, much stronger. Infertility is every bit the same. And, just like my mother-in-law, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. But, I know that we'll be better for it. We'll be a stronger couple, "better" parents, and a more grateful family.

It's also true that genetics isn't the only thing that determines our fate. Personality plays a role, too. When we received our first SA results (via a phone call to me from my OB/GYN), I was devastated. But, I was told that I had to survive on the island by myself for awhile. From their past experience, both the nurse and my mother-in-law told me not to tell my husband. "Let it come from the doctor," they said, "He'll take it better."

When my father-in-law was given similar news in the late 1970s, the urologist used the "s-word": sterile. Furthermore, they were also told that they would never have biological children. Social stigma and ego proved to be too much. He was beyond livid, but over time that anger transitioned into his first diagnosed chronic depression episode. I was warned to expect a similar reaction, though it would be far from our first experience with depression.

But, this was not like father, like son.

My husband is remarkably okay with our MFI because we have a plan. I'm grateful for his calm and for the fact that he does not tie his sperm count, motility and morphology to his own self-worth. At the same time, it turns the tables a bit. I'm left as the one struggling to find the other on the marooned island. Such emotional extremes are hard to process...how can he feel as strongly about starting our family as I do when remains so even keel about it? But, I know that he shows his concern and caring by agreeing to the SA so early, by going to the specialists, by being my shoulder to cry on and never judging my emotions.

What I heard at the urologist appointment this week was that our odds of needing ART to get pregnant are extremely high. I expected to hear that, but it was (and is) still jarring. It still unnerves me and causes me to mourn the loss of the "quick and easy" conception that so many others around me are experiencing.

What my husband heard was that we can and will get pregnant, it’s just a matter of how. And, that's all he needed to hear. I'm grateful that his perspective is often my shelter on the island...that what depresses him, doesn't me and that what depresses me, doesn't him.

Fate and genetics. They don't live in isolation. I still believe that God only gives us what he knows we can handle. As it turns out, we were given some genetic issues to overcome. But, we were also given the perfectly balanced personalities to weather the island storm until we can overcome them. The irony is not lost on me...and I'm grateful.

-------------------------------------------------

Thanks to Mel for writing her post "I Watched Funny People and What I Learned about MFI" about the unique kinds of baggage that accompany an MFI diagnosis. I've appreciated the many responses left by others experiencing the same baggage. Please head over to read her post and the insightful responses!

Part 2 will explain why I (we) choose to talk about our journey through depression and MFI when so many others do not. The stigma that goes along with talking about MFI is another piece of luggage to add to the pile.

Revisiting the blog...

So, I'll admit, when I started this blog a few months ago, I had high hopes that we'd be pregnant by now. I created this blog to document our journey to parenthood. Despite the nagging fear that ours wouldn't be a quick journey, I'd hoped that I could be blogging about the joys of pregnancy by now. I think I subconsciously held off on posting here because it meant that we were actually on a "journey" and not a first, second, or third lucky try.

I'll also admit that I wasn't originally sure how to manage the blog plus the online communities that I've come to depend on so much during this journey. However, I think that what I've decided is that the blog is best for keeping family and friends up-to-date. Sure, I know that many will say that we shouldn't tell everyone that we're trying. And, maybe I'll learn that lesson by TTC #2. Right now, though, I )and we) really need the support of our friends and family. I'm not really sure how I'll let people know that the blog is here, but if we really are in it for the long haul (like we very well may be), I figure that the blog may end up save us from having to repeat everything to everyone everytime. And, eventually, people may start to ask how things are going anyway...we can just sent them here to catch up.

With those caveats out of the way, here are the reasons why I still think I need to write this blog...now more than ever.
1) Writing has always been cathartic for me. I'm really have a tough time with all of this and the emotional roller coaster that goes along with coming off BCP, too. Recent news only confirms that we are very likely at the beginning of what may be a long journey. It will require me to change my way of thinking on this and come to terms with some things I hoped I wouldn't have to. Writing may be one of the best ways for me to do that...so, here it will be!
2) The support I've received online from message boards to blogs has been invaluable! In fact, I'm fairly certain that I would feel rather alone and lost without it. I know there are some that think that exacerbates issues. However, when you are the only person you know going through something, it can feel terribly lonely. The internet makes that a most unlikely occurrence...there's almost certainly someone else going through the same thing, it's just a matter of finding them. I only hope that I can provide the same level of support I have received in these few short months!