6th Anniversary

Earlier in the week, Breanne asked me if I was going to write an anniversary post for the blog like I did last year. Without thinking, I blurted out “Is this gonna be an annual thing?”  I could feel her eyes burning a hole through me.  “Well I hope not…”  Of course we don’t want to still be blogging about infertility in a year! As Forrest Gump once said, “I’m not a smart man.”

not a smart man

As dumb as my comment was, it did get us talking about our 6 years of marriage.  We have been trying to conceive a child now for half of our marriage.  Half!  And we’ve been going through fertility treatments for a third of it.  Infertility is no longer something we just have to deal with or get through – it’s now a part of who we are, both individually and as a couple.  I never thought I would have given my wife over 100 shots during our first few years of marriage!  And she never thought her husband would know as much or more about the female reproductive system as she does.  Taken out of the context of infertility, that would be pretty damn creepy.

Looking back, this is not where we expected to be at our 6th anniversary and in our 30’s.  But in spite of all the pain and sadness that infertility has caused us, it’s made our marriage stronger.  After our first couple years of marriage, we thought the next step in the maturity of our relationship would be the connection we formed over being parents.  But in reality, it happened unexpectedly when we couldn’t become parents.  We’ve seen each other at our most vulnerable, we’ve talked each other out of giving up, and we’ve comforted each other after leaving yet another disappointing doctor’s appointment. We have learned to rely on each other to get through these difficult times.  And when the unexpected happens, as if often does these days, we’re each other’s constant.

So this weekend, to celebrate our anniversary, we decided to try and hit refresh and enjoy what we have in each other.  We deserved a day or two to set aside the dreams of what we want our family to be, to enjoy the family we already are – the one we became 6 years ago today.  At dinner last night, I brought up something about the transfer and Breezer burned another hole in me with that look. “Nope, we’re not talking about that,” she said.  So I shut up, because we’ve already established the fact that I say stupid things, and after dinner we came home and continued our weekend binge of Friday Night Lights.  It got us fired up for football season, but more importantly helped us clear our minds.  So as we approach this week with a doctor’s appointment to find out if we can transfer this month, I’ll just leave you with the wisdom of Coach Eric Taylor (who I’m pretty sure Bre has a crush on…because she told me), “Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can’t Lose!”  And a little advice just for me for next year’s anniversary – “Stay away from dumb, gentlemen.”

Coach-Taylor-eric-taylor-30564566-400-267

My Uterus Can Be a Real B****

Well…today was my lining check. I had been so nervous about this date with “Wanda,” especially after last month’s cancellation.  As the ultrasound tech began doing her thing, I took a deep breath and stared at the monitor so hard, as if I could somehow make the image of a thick uterine lining magically appear with my mind.  Then, there it was.  I saw the three layers and said, “Hey Brennen, it’s a pretty a lining!” The tech laughed and joked that she could probably turn the tools over to us at this point. We’re vets. Then, she dragged the pointer across the screen to get the measurements.  “How thick is it?” I nervously asked.  “About 7.” UGH!

We left our appointment so freakin’ frustrated.  As I was driving back to work, I called Brennen (even though I had just seen him 2 minutes ago), and for the first time in this whole process I said, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” I wanted to give up. At that moment, I felt like this would never work.  The anger continued to swell up inside me and came out in phrases like, “This isn’t going to happen,” and “Forget it! I’m done.”  In the past when we met a hurdle, we were able to push through it with positivity, but this afternoon I was like, screw positivity.  I didn’t want to be positive. I didn’t feel like pushing through.  I just wanted to throw my hands up.  What the heck, uterus? I had to quickly get off the phone with Brennen before I broke down in tears.  I honestly don’t remember if he ever even said anything on the other end of the line. He just let me have my moment of justified frustration.

bitchy uterus

The day dragged on.  My frustration eventually subsided…somewhat, and I was on pins and needles waiting to hear from Memphis.  I knew the lining measurement wasn’t where it needed to be, so I was ready to hear the word “postponed” and move on.  Memphis finally called at 3:09.  I didn’t want to hear the nurse say it so I went ahead and offered up a “So that lining wasn’t so great, huh?” She agreed. And guess what…transfer postponed.

I’ll continue to take Estrace three times a day for another week, along with Lupron, which should keep me from ovulating. SHOULD! Then, next Wednesday, I’ll be in Memphis for blood work and another lining check.  Unfortunately Brennen can’t make it to this appointment because he has a business trip to Boston.  But my mom has offered to go with me (thanks, Mom!), which means we’ll probably be making a stop at Ikea and the Pottery Barn Outlet before heading back to Mississippi.

So now we’re looking at a transfer on August 21st, a week from our original date.  But hey, a postponement is better than a cancellation, right? Okay, so maybe I’ve accepted some positivity since my morning rant…but that doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed at my uterus!