Hello Blogosphere!

Well, I've finally decided to enter the world of blogging... this ought to be interesting! I have entered a few entries previously on My Space, mostly regarding my beautiful son, Aiden, my engagement and marriage to my wonderful husband, Steve, and the heart wrenching loss of our two angel babies. But this will be my official foray into blogs!

The main reason behind starting this blog is to give myself an outlet for all of the thoughts and insanities that have taken over my mind throughout this past year as we have journeyed from being happy honeymooners to struggling with miscarriage and infertility. To say this past year has been hell would be quite the understatement. I know there are others in this world that have suffered greater things, but, at the end of the day, that does little to minimize the pain and sadness that comes with broken dreams.

So, for those who know nothing about me, a brief (or at least as brief as I can make it!) bio. I met my husband, Steve, about 5 years ago (has it really been that long! WOW!). We met in cyberspace- Match.com is personally responsible for our meeting! Well, that and, despite his horrible spelling and grammar, I saw a great, loving, caring man who I could, potentially, see getting to know and maybe even spending the rest of my life with. Our relationship started off well- we dated about 9 months before things suddenly went awry. He suddenly broke things off. I was angry, of course, and devastated- he had brought up marriage and children, so this seemingly came out of the blue and I was not prepared at all for it. What happened next, I was even less prepared for- I discovered that I was already 3 months pregnant.

I know my husband feels guilty for what happened next- he chose not to support me during the time that I was pregnant with our son. This fact makes the rest of our journey, especially over the past year, that much more painful for both of us- I want him to be able to experience how amazing it is to feel that little baby kick. Fast forward to October, when Aiden joined the world... and Daddy laid eyes on that beautiful little boy. It was all over from there. He visited often, and, eventually, after four uncomfortable months of visits, a couple of arguments, and one e-mail begging for a second chance, I gave in, and realized that I still loved him and wanted to give our relationship another go.

So, the next phase of our relationship was a long distance one- Steve was deployed to Germany, and much of our romancing was done through the wonders of modern technology. Bless the person who invented web cams and free Internet voice/phone service! It was quite some time before we got to see each other in person again. He had some leave time available, and I decided that a trip to Europe would be quite nice, so, thanks to the help of a good friend who had some serious frequent flier miles, I headed to Germany in June. My not being a huge fan of Germany, however, and Steve's desire to get the heck out of Dodge, led us to make a trip to Italy, which would end up being the most amazing vacation of my life! We went to the Cinque Terre and Rome for about 10 days. On our last night in Monterosso, before leaving for Rome the next day, Steve and I went for a walk around the town. He led me out onto a moonlit jetty, with the waves crashing against the rocks behind us, and the facade of the town lit up before us. He asked me if he could ask me something... Completely clueless, my response was, "Yes, why couldn't you?". It was then that he got down on one knee, and asked if I would marry him! Obviously, the response was yes! He had no ring, however, due to the fact that where he'd ordered it from had not delivered it in time. This was no matter though- I told him that we could just pick a ring out together, in Rome, and just return the other. So, after an amazing day of visiting the Pantheon, Trevi Fountain, and the Spanish Steps, we found a little jewelry store and a beautiful, simple ring that just belonged on my finger!

Steve did not return home until almost a year later, in May. I planned our wedding during this time, started house hunting, Aiden grew like a weed, and I also started graduate school, all while working full time. Needless to say, things were a little busy! Upon Steve's return home, we found our home and quickly purchased it, so that we didn't have to live with either of our parents for a moment longer (much as we appreciated their love and support, we needed our own space!).

A month before our wedding, after much deliberation, we decided that we were ready to add to our family. This is where, really, the story of what I will share most on this blog begins. In September, I went off of birth control, and, while we weren't actively "trying", we didn't necessarily avoid either. We married on the 20th of October, and, I was surprised when my period didn't show up around the day of my wedding, because I was expecting it to! I just figured it was crazy cycles from coming off of the pill, but decided to test anyway a few days after the wedding. Imagine my surprise when that digital popped up "pregnant"! I told Steve immediately, and he was absolutely thrilled.

We were scheduled to go on our honeymoon cruise to Mexico two weeks after our wedding- I was, admittedly, a little disappointed that I wasn't going to be able to partake of all of the tequila and margaritas, but, I would survive! Those two weeks were filled with some spotting, and mild cramping, but, I didn't think anything of it, because everything I had read said this was normal. I couldn't really compare it to my pregnancy with Aiden, because I hadn't really known what was going on during my first months of pregnancy with him! The day before we left for the cruise, I started feeling really awful. I had what felt like really severe gas pains, and just felt horrible. My husband asked if I needed to go to the ER, but I brushed it off, thinking it was just another horrible side effect of pregnancy. It was, but just not the benign type of which I was thinking.

I managed to fall asleep that evening, and felt well enough the next day, November 2, to fly. I actually made it all the way to Houston, with a layover in Detroit, before I started feeling bad again. We made it to our hotel, where we planned to stay the night before heading to Galveston to leave for the cruise. I sent my husband off with his friends, who wanted to go a bike rally in Galveston that evening, telling them I just needed to rest and that I would be fine. I barely made it an hour before the bleeding started, and I called him in tears, terrified and devastated, knowing that I was having a miscarriage. Unfortunately, this was not a "typical" miscarriage. I ended up calling 911 and getting transported to the hospital. After sitting for almost six hours, writhing in pain, I was taken into emergency surgery because of a ruptured ectopic pregnancy. I lost my left tube, and nearly my life- my husband, who in his line of work has seen death before, later told me how terrified he was of losing me that night- apparently, I looked like hell.

Needless to say, we didn't make it on the honeymoon we had planned. We ended up having an "impromptu" one, hanging out in Houston and Galveston until our scheduled flight. I probably could have flown back home, but it was nice to not be there, to not have to deal with my son while I grieved the loss of our baby that we would never know. Not like the grief ended in just that one week, not even close. I don't know that it has ended even today, or ever really will. However, the rawness was starting to heal over after that week, and my little baby's kisses and hugs were just what I needed when we got home.

They say time heals all wounds... and soon enough, we were eager to try again. My doctor asked us to wait until they had done a test to make sure my other tube was not blocked- when that came back clear, we were given the green light to try again. This was in January, and I never got a period in February, nor was I pregnant, as I keep getting negative tests. However, in March, I suddenly got a positive test! We were overjoyed again- we didn't necessarily expect this to happen again so quickly, especially given the reduced odds due to having just one tube. I was cautious at the beginning- I had one incident of spotting, which led me directly to my dr's office. Gone were the days of being able to be hopeful and worry free during the beginning of a pregnancy. They did an ultrasound to check that everything was ok, and to date the pregnancy, and it was then, at 6w4d, we saw a heartbeat! I was certain that THIS baby would stick around, and that my ectopic was just a fluke, just a bit of bad luck. Things were going well, I had the expected nausea and tiredness that come along with pregnancy, and with each passing day, felt more and more confident that things were going to be ok this time.

At my 11 week appointment on April 22, the midwife used the doppler to try to find the heartbeat. She was unable to find it, and, while I tried not to worry too much, knowing that this early it was sometimes hard to find, that hope that I'd had been building up over the past several weeks started to crumble. She scheduled an ultrasound for the next day, just to check and make sure things were ok. I brought along Steve and Aiden, thinking how neat it would be to show Aiden his new brother or sister on the screen, with a little heart just beating away. However, as the nurse started the ultrasound, I could tell that something was very, very wrong. The ultrasound technician went to get the doctor to look at the screen, to confirm what she was seeing, I guess. Bless that woman's heart for having the forsight to take Aiden out of the room with her when the doctor gave us the news. I collapsed into my husbands arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Even though I knew this could happen, I felt so confident after seeing that heartbeat a few weeks prior that nothing would go wrong with this pregnancy. The doctor said it looked like the baby had stopped growing at about 8 weeks, so soon after we'd seen the heartbeat. I felt like it was cruel joke my body was playing on me, to allow my symptoms to continue, to allow me to think I was still pregnant, when, in reality, I was carrying my dead baby around inside of me.

Which leads us to current day. We lost our second angel in April.

It is now February, and I am still not pregnant. After my D&C, I had extrememly long cycles- 65 days, 73 days, and 75 days. My doctor tried Provera, to "reset" my cycle, which didn't work. Then, they decided to put me on Clomid. I didn't ovulate the first cycle when they put me on 50mg. During the ultrasound to see how many follicles had grown due to the Clomid, my doctor pointed out that I had several cysts on my right ovary that indicated I might have polycystic ovarian syndrome, and that he would like to do some more testing. The next cycle, they tried 100mg, and I ovulated, but from my left side. My right side was still full of cysts. Given that I only have a right tube, it is not very helpful if I only ovulate from my left- while it is "possible" to get pregnant, it's pretty improbable. The doctor also said that she didn't particularly like the response I had to the Clomid- my follicle on the scan was much smaller than they would like to see on CD12. Also, she gave the "official" diagnosis of PCOS, and told me that next cycle, she would up my dosage to 150mg, as well as put me on Metformin, which has shown promise in helping women with PCOS regulate their hormones and ovulate regularly. I ovulated even later on 150mg, so the dr's response was to start Clomid earlier, and use it for longer. I, personally, question whether Clomid is even going to work for me at this point, especially given the fact that my right ovary is covered with cysts, and I don't think I will ovulate from that side until they're gone. So, in light of this, I have decided to get a second opinion. I am going to be seeing a reproductive endocrinologist in February, which will, hopefully, provide some answers and a new plan of action to get me knocked up as soon as possible!

So, that is the "scientific" aspect of this past year. As far as the emotional side, I'm pretty sure I probably am suffering from depression- but I refuse to take any sort of medication that could possibly hurt my chances of getting and remaining pregnant. I have enough working against me in this area that I just don't need to tempt fate! I've given up alcohol, caffeine, processed carbohydrates and a lot of sugar, all in the name of having another baby. I take my temperature every morning, look at my chart on Fertility Friend at least 5 times a day, obsess over every twinge that happens below my belly button, and spend my life in two week increments- two weeks waiting to ovulate, two weeks waiting to find out that I am, yet again, not pregnant. I spend money that I don't have on ovulation tests, pregnancy tests (because even though I know I'm not pregnant, I can't resist peeing on a stick!), ultrasounds and medication. The medication, makes me a lunatic- I'm cranky, short tempered, on edge, basically just a right ol' bitch! Everything makes me cry- a commercial for puppies, stress at work, my husband saying the wrong thing or looking at me the wrong way. I feel horrible for him- I know this whole process can't be easy on him either. He carries guilt from not being supportive during my pregnancy with Aiden, and I know he feels like he missed out on so much from that. From the deepest parts of my heart, even more than I want this for myself, I want another baby for HIM, so he can experience this miracle.

So, this was my VERY LONG STORY. I do apologize. I tried to use as few words as possible, though I am the first to admit that I can be rather wordy! I promise, however, that I will NEVER make another blog entry quite this long!