Well Hello 2012

I surprisingly feel peaceful with the impending New Year. Debbie Downer seems to have flown the coop.

It started with a good ole fashion 'Spring Cleaning'....in December.

Yesterday I spent 5 hours finally cleaning out what once was our storage room and getting it ready for what will one day be the nursery. To tell you the truth it was the strangest yet most motivating feeling. I could finally picture where everything would go and allowed myself to realize that one day it WILL actually be there. Not to say that motivation plays any part in IVF. It's not like I have to run marathons or train. I just have to become a vomiting pin cushion and pray nature follows suit. That fickle bitch has yet to do so but I have a feeling she's ready to get with the program.

We have our WTF appointment Thursday. I'm on the fence of relief to get things moving again and fear about what Dr. T may tell us. I've made my peace with the fact that we may very well have to move to donor eggs. But knowing my mood swings I could be crying in the fetal position come 12:30 Thursday.

I looked back at my HCG levels when we found out we were pregnant back in '09 and my levels were high then too. Not as crazy as last time but it makes me think that something is probably brewing genetically in there. Something not good.

I'm also afraid she'll have nothing new to tell us. No new plan. In which case, I will switch clinics. A lot went wrong when we lost the twins. My progesterone was low. My Thyroid took a nose dive and became nonexistent. I got a NEGATIVE MUTHA F'ING beta!! (Sorry a little early in the a.m. for such profanity)

Not sure how to move on from here so I'm just going to change the subject.

This year I’m actually going to have a New Year's resolution. I have never participated in this cliché. Mostly because I never really had anything I wanted to quit or change. Trust me people this is not me trying to play Miss Perfect, It's me not giving a rat's ass about my imperfections.  But come hell or high water I am going to lose this god awful weight I have gained from almost 2 years of fertility treatments! I already started, lost 5lbs and would like to lose 10 more.

To embarrass hold myself accountable for this goal I’m going to put the weight loss ticker on here. I always felt it a little TMI but now I get it.

So here goes nothing! Let's lose 15lbs and gain it all back in baby weight!!

PS. I would love to hear any stories or advice you guys may have about donor eggs.
PPS. How much, if any, weight have you all gained in IF treatments??

Tis The Season

My day started off with a BANG.

J left my car window open all night….it snowed. So I drove to work sitting on a trash bag and towel. About halfway here I realized my back was cold. I hadn't noticed the entire seat was soaked and now so was my back. To top it all off I tried drying off the window controls on the door and accidently opened the window. I was immediately soaked with about 4 gallons of water in my lap.

But ya know what? It’s Christmas. We have friends flying in tonight. The *Bruins are playing. Drinks will be had at our house. This will be a good weekend.

I wish all of you a happy holiday no matter what you celebrate!


                              
*We are DIE HARD Bruins fans through and through. J still has his mustache from "MOvember" because he's convinced it's good luck. Although we are both 100% Canadian we would rather die than cheer for the Habs. K? Thanx bye.

There it is...

It randomly hit me this morning. The dread. The thought that this might never work. Looking at how many women are pregnant after their first IVF, I really didn't think that ever happened but I now realize that we are the exception to the rule.

I don't know what caused this sudden pang of hurt. I suppose it was bound to pop up at some point. We usually have a plan set in motion by now. Something for me to grasp onto to continue having hope, false hope, but hope nonetheless. But now we're just waiting. Waiting for the results. What our lost twins will tell us.

Christmas is my favorite time of year. I absolutely love it. I turn on the Christmas tunes at work the day after Halloween. But for the last 3 years it just makes me a classic "depressed around the holidays" loser. But this year we got a BFP right after Thanksgiving. Stupidly I thought, "This is it! It has to be. The universe wouldn't be that awful and do this to me at Christmas time!"   

                                                               
                                                                          Bite.me.universe.

 I hate this side of myself.

I can only imagine how our family feels. I'm very good about keeping my emotions to myself. I let J in on about 1/4 of it but for the most part I deal with things on my own. But they must be so sick of this whole song and dance.

"Well Patty's starting her fertility meds again. Let's make sure we're all super supportive and loving. Keep her and J in our prayers. It's definitely going to work this time."

Nope didn't work. They must wonder WTF is going on. I know some part of their heart or mind has to blame me. I blame me.

Yes, I’m aware of how pathetic this sounds. I've never said it (typed it) out loud for that reason.

I run the scenario in my head over and over about what I would say to someone who suggested that it's my fault the IVF doesn't work every time. What type of vicious defense I would unroll? But in reality I don't think I would have one.

My closest friend and her husband lost their baby the same time we lost the twins. I can't tell you how guilty I feel about it. When she told me she was pregnant, it was the night before my retrieval and I wasn't as happy and excited as I should have been. You can read more about that here.  I think it's brought the four of us even closer but it's not the circumstances you hope for. Why couldn't we just be brought closer by having babies the same age?

Meanwhile it's been two weeks since my D&C and I'm still friggin bleeding. Nothing like a constant friggin reminder! F U Kotex and your huge ass pads.

How Would You Like Your Eggs?

Donated please.

True to form I've gone over all the outcomes of our follow-up appointment, ending in the conclusion that we will be using donor eggs. Today I'll be researching the shit out of this process and become an expert by 3:00 p.m. EST.
                                                                

We've been TTC for 3 years now. We've had 4 m/c's. All of our testing has come back normal, aside from J's low swimmers. Which, in IVF doesn’t mean a damn thing!

Some part of our genetics isn't fitting right. I see it as the puzzle is almost complete with one piece missing so someone shoves a piece from some old puzzle in there to try and hold it together. It stays in place for a little while but can't be *decoupage and kept for life. So it falls apart and there's the m/c.

                                                               

Perusal I've brought J in on my psychosis and prepared him for DE. He just looked at me and said "How do you feel about it?" Well there's the question isn't it. I'm the most anxious, neurotic, control freak I know. So I’m sure J was waiting for the flood gates to open and for me to toss myself from our car at any moment. But the crazy part is I couldn't care less. Our child will be half of J and carried in my womb for 9 months. As far as I can tell my requirements have been met.

From what I've seen so far, the donors are way better women than I am! My child will make out like a bandit in this deal. They must have at least a bachelor's degree, one healthy pregnancy (w/o C-section), and never smoked. I've given the Marlboro man a run for his money in my past so right there we have a perk.

Of course this is all in air quotations because we haven’t even had the appointment yet.

                                                    

*Please do not take this as an indication that I decoupage.

Is This Real Life

The war was short lived.

I knew in my heart that this would not end the way we had so longed for. As soon as I saw those two perfect sacs on the ultrasound screen, I knew. It almost seems they wanted us as much as we wanted them which hurt even more.

We were finally able to meet with our own Dr. last Tuesday. She told us what we already knew but were dreading. Our IVF in October stuck but not in time. The 2 blasts implanted on either 8dp5dt or 9dp5dt and resulted in a negative beta. They held on for dear life through a pretty good bleed. Which I thought was AF. It made total sense. The dates and the progression of the gestational sacs just didn't meet up with a spontaneous pregnancy and were just behind the IVF dates. After two ultrasounds and an excruciating wait, the blood work revealed that my HCG level had hit a plateau, my thyroid was about to bust, and the sacs had made no progression. D&C was our only option to keep me healthy and get some answers.

It was a truly an awful day. I've never had to walk into that office under those circumstances. It puts a whole new spin on the waiting room. Everyone else is there filled with hope of bringing home their babies in 9 months. We were there to have our babies taken from us. Again.

With my other D&C, I was 13 wks. along and had been spotting for 3 days. It was done at 3:00a.m. in an emergency room by an OB that I had never met. I didn't have time to process the whole situation which was almost better.

This felt like a conscious decision. Like an abortion. I was the only person in that facility letting go of my babies while everyone else was trying so desperately to obtain them. I had second, third, and fourth thoughts right up until they knocked me out.

What could really happen if I just waited? It's not like I'll die. What if they spontaneously would have started to develop? Is this my only option? I cried until the anesthesia stopped me.

I'm not really sure where to go from here.

I've tucked the whole experience away in that dark infertile spot way back in my mind.

I realized last night that I've lost sight of this ever working for us. I can't picture it anymore.

I'll bounce back. I promise. I'm just living someone else’s life at the moment.

It's War

Who's got moles?! NOT THIS GIRL!

I had completely prepared myself for a molar pregnancy. Going as far as to tell the other manager at work that I may need time off for surgery. (Dra-matic per usual) So when the ultrasound technician showed me two little sacks on the screen I nearly rolled off the table with Mr. Ultra Dildo still inserted.

Try not to get ahead of yourself here. We still have a lot of ifs ands or buts to cover.

First off, we've been deemed infertile for almost 2 years now. 3 years TTC including 2 years of IUI, IVF, and FET. The most we've ever gotten from our treatments was one lousy chemical back in September and a good 10lb muffin top.

Our last IVF took place in October. We retrieved 21 eggs, 14 fertilized with 4 making it to day 5 blasts. We transferred 2 perfect day 5 blast on October 19th. November 2nd I went in for my beta and got the BFN call back that afternoon followed by AF that night. AF was textbook. Ovulation signs were somewhere around CD10. 11 days later I started to have tell-tale AF cramps. (I always cramp 4-5 days before I start) The very next day, Thanksgiving, I woke up so nauseous that I had to sit down and take deep breaths to not yack.

I told J that I felt 'pregnant sick'. He first accused me of being hungover and then questioned if we'd even had sex that month. Really buddy?! Glad it was good for you.

The cramps and general discomfort continued. Finally Saturday I was so gaggy all day that I decided I needed to test before attending what was sure to be a drunk fest with my Dad's side of the family. (I'll explain that in another post. Daddy issues anyone? Don't mind if I do!)

Well you all saw what ensued after said test from my previous post.

Now we're still in the dark, living with maybe babIES. Our Dr.'s seem to think that there was some kind of lab error with my beta on November 2nd and I was in fact pregnant and it's just not viable. Pompous assholes want to take credit for these babies even if they have to admit some wrong doing.

We prefer to live in candy land where everything is bon bons and gumdrops. There, these babies are the result of two chocolate filled easter eggs and rainbow sprinkles.

I feel I may have to go to war with the RE's.

My beta yesterday was 22,400 which is appropriate according to the doubling standard of high HCG. Which you can take a gander at here --> HCG Doubling. Thanks to my for real knocked up blogger Unaffected.

From what everyone tells me, it is perfectly normal to only see the sack at 5wks. My Dr. made it sound like we had no friggin shot of carrying these guys to term. I guess they really believe there isn't a shot in hell we'd conceive on our own. J has a low sperm count not a sterile one. We've done it on our own before. So stick that in your pipe and smoke it! I just feel that if we don't see the yolk sacks on Tuesday (5wk3d) they’re going to push for a D&C and I'm going to have to get all warrior princess on their asses.

I am not putting all my sacks in one basket here but I'm going to let them do their thing for as long as they can. I will not displace those that took refuge in my broke down uterus.

On a side note, before J and I ever started our TTC journey I always thought I would have twin boys.

The Other Foot....

Size 12, lead sole, muddy, timberland boot..... It dropped.

I went for my beta Monday morning. When the nurse hadn't called by 3:00p.m. I figured I'd call her. Normally I'm not this anxious for my numbers. By this time I know it didn't work and would rather not hear the result. But this was different. I broke the test! With no fertility treatment! I couldn't wait to hear that strong 150-200. So when she started a battery of questions about my LMP I was a little taken back but not totally knocked off my HTP high. I told her that I must have O'd early. When I got dead silence on the other end of the phone I finally asked what the number was.                                        

                                                                     13,000
                                      3 days BEFORE my missed period

Whoa...She agreed in my sentiment. Then she rambled on about how maybe my last IVF worked and they missed it but we need to do an U/S. All I could hear was a loud siren going off in my head. I knew there was something to do with high HCG and a nonviable pregnancy but I couldn't remember what it was.


Who the hell else would have their beta drawn and be told "Oh no missy! That number is just too high for our liking. Something is surely wrong in that vengeful ute of yours. P.S. You suck! Have a wonderful evening." This bitch…… that's who!

I truly feel that my RE's office records my call backs for the training of new nurses.

Dr. T - "Today students we're going to hear nurse Fertile tell Ms. Patty that her partner has blind sperm. If you listen closely you can hear her ovaries rejoice over their playing no role in the infertility. Tomorrow's lesson we'll tell her that the beta numbers were too low to achieve a sneeze never mind pregnancy. Lastly, for your final we'll get to tell Ms. Patty that her numbers are so high that she's birthing a mole!"

Riiiiight. Bastards.

So here I am stuck in maybe baby land. I'm going through the motions of being pregnant with not one ounce of happiness. I don't want to get attached to a *mole! I also don't want to do anything to harm the miniscule chance that there's a real baby in there.

For instance, I made a turkey sandwich this morning (with lunchmeat). When I finally realized that 'pregnant' women can't eat lunch meat I about lost my shit. If I knew I was truly pregnant I would be MORE than obliging but this is just fucking cruel people.

Of course I've been googling the shit out of molar pregnancy. Let me tell you people it's not pretty. Almost all sites say that most Dr.'s recommend waiting 6 months before achieving pregnancy after removal of the tissue. Well, isn't that just the bee’s knees. Not only do you get to be 'pretend' pregnant you don’t get to be 'real pregnant' for another 6 months at least. The best part is your chance for cervical cancer sky rockets!

Tomorrow is D day…. or U day. I will have an U/S at 9:15am to see what's growing in there. I swear to G.O.D. if there are moles in my secret garden I'm going to flip my shit.

But to be perfectly honest, that's what I fully expect to see.

* I know it's not an actual mole so please don't explain what a molar pregnancy is.

So.....

I was about to start a second post earlier on how I was afraid to start my period before my asshole insurance company gave approval for our 100th FET. The tell tale crampage has been nagging me for a few days.

Then I started to feel all gaggy. Since I've been on antibiotics I figured that was the culprit of my displeasure. Then 'it' crept in. The feeling of 'oh! maybe I'm pregnant'. I haven't let this feeling get the best of me without a fertility treatment in well over a year. But I had one test left and since I planned on drinking at a family function tonight I thought, what the hell let's piss on that bad larry and see what we get.

Usually I tinkle tinkle,walk away, and pray for an evap 3 hours later. For some reason I decided to burn a hole in the test with my laser glare and wouldn't you know it!


                                The damn thing is BLAZING FRIGGIN POSITIVE!!!!

                                             

I cannot even believe it. Our RE said one in million chance of natural conception. We figured we hit that lotto already with our M/C.

I'm scared shitless!!!! I'm having cramps. I don't want to leave me safe RE. I felt more comfortable with an embryologist hand picking our champions not my slutty uterus. Oh dear lord please give me the strength to not go totally nuts with worry.

What Legends Are Made Of...

I hope all of you had a great Thanksgiving!

J and I split the holiday between his family and mine. We ate dinner at my mom's and desert at his mom's. It being family time and all, you can imagine that the day didn't go off without a bitch hitch.

Now in my 3 years of TTC and 27 years of being a woman I've heard many a folk lore of a particular situation happening to my fellow sisterhood. I've always cringed back in total horror at the mere thought of such occasions happening to me. I've pondered what my line of defense would be and how I would rise up against such travesties. Well on this fateful holiday it finally happened.....someone asked me if I was pregnant.

I know what you’re thinking. Maybe they were just wondering if you had achieved pregnancy yet. NOPE! This person did not know we were trying.

My response was to immediately say "WHAT?!" Where she just merely repeated herself, assuming I hadn't heard the question. I followed up with a zinger...."No."

The next part is the real knife in the bird. She then told me that I "looked pregnant".

Holy shit!! This is the stuff legends are made of. Who the hell tells someone that after being told that no, they are in fact NOT pregnant. Did you think that was the appropriate defense against such crimes??

"Well, in my defense you are a fat ass so you can understand my mistake."

She then went on to say that when she wears flowing shirts people ask her that all the time.

SHE'S IN HER 60'S!          
                                                   
                                        No, no, no, no Cloris Leachman! No one has ever asked you that!



But it gets better. My uncle thought it would be funny to keep asking me if I was pregnant the rest of the day. (He does know about our IF) What the hell is wrong with these people?!

Needless to say it ended by me telling everyone to Fuck Off and leaving. No, I’m not exaggerating that part. I made a scene. Took my toys and went home.

*So what am I thankful for this year?
1) J's dad makes a great Clamato
2) Elastic waist pants
3) My niece telling everyone "they're going down!" while helping me play pitch
4) Lorazpam

*Of course the love of my life J, my health, family, and my furbabies.

Another Turkey Day With No Bun In The Oven

Each holiday, birthday, milestone, YEAR that passes without our baby, I tell myself, "You'll get 'em next year kiddo!" Riiiiiiight. I never in my wildest dreams imagined we'd be going on 3 years of TTC and no baby.


I used to mourn the loss of my baby and the lack of my fertility on such occasions. But this time I find myself PISSED RIGHT THE HELL OFF!! I mean really WTF?! This is not right. We went through the awful loss of our first pregnancy. That was our penance. We paid our debt to the world for our sins. What more do we need to do?!

My closest friend is now pregnant. Not only is she my closest friend but her husband is J's cousin and his closest friend. Which means we are together socially and for family events. They got married 4 months ago and she's 10 weeks along. Yes, do the math. That means they tried for a total of 2 months. That's 34months LESS than we've been trying. Don't get me wrong I love them both very dearly and am happy they didn't have to go through infertile hell. But my psyche would have benefited from them trying just a few months longer. Let me explain that horrible comment.....

 They know about our TTC struggle but it's become recently clear to me that she does not understand the level of hurt at all. Yes, I know that anyone who hasn't been through it doesn't fully grasp it. But I'm pretty sure the concept is completely lost on her.

 The evening before my last retrieval she calls me and asks what I'm 'up to'. "Oh ya know just chillin' on the couch bloated with a migraine watching the minutes tick by until they take these 21 eggs, ever-so-painfully, out of my ovaries." What I really said----> "Nothing. You?" She wanted to stop by. I told her I needed to be in bed early because we had to get up at 4a.m. for the retrieval. So she says, "Well how about after your appointment tomorrow?" Well my SURGERY is quite painful and I don't think I'll be up for company. Needless to say she rushes over the night before my retrieval to tell me she's pregnant.

I tried my damnedest to sound like the happy supportive friend I so desperately wanted to be and not the bitter infertile friend that I am, but WTF?! It was not in my human capability to be happy for her at that point. I gave her the benefit of the doubt that she was telling me before I found out from someone else. NOPE! She's telling no one. Just me. She wants someone she can call about pregnancy. Come on, I do not want to give my opinions from my pregnancy that lasted 13 weeks.

 There I was in pain, anxious, and desperate for this damn procedure to work. Now I had to add the dread that if it didn't work I would have to constantly be around yet another pregnant person especially in my family. A place where I should always feel comfortable is now tainted.

She finally decided to tell her immediate family so there hasn't been any 'advice giving'. I can't help but think she did this because I was being completely unsupportive which is awful. But I did/do try. I text and call often to see how she's doing but I can't help but feel like I come off kind of distant on the whole matter.

I suppose I've been spoiled by J's sisters and parents. By that I mean they truly get it. The pain they feel when we go through failure after failure is palpable. I just assumed that it was that easy for my BFF to understand. Big negative on that one.


I've been having panic attacks for a month over the idea of her announcing her pregnancy at the dinner table on Thursday. I picture those who know our history turning to me with sorry eyes while I gulp my vino. But luckily she's spending Thanksgiving with her side of the family and I’m relieved. How sick is that?! I do not want to be this person but how do I turn it off?

Load me up...

One post and I'm already lacking in consistency!

After my last post I promptly became DEATHLY ill with tonsillitis and because I’m incredibly dramatic it landed me in the hospital. I was told by an ENT about 3 years ago that I needed to have my tonsils out due to the fact that they kept flaring up and abscessing (yuck). But after scheduling and cancelling the surgery 3 times and I decided to be honest with myself and the ENT that I was never giving up me tonsils argh! (apply Jack Sparrow accent here).

The one thing I enjoy about the hospital visit (besides Percocet) is people watching. The rare breeds that come into the ER are something you don't find in your everyday encounters. I'm pretty sure the majority of the population simply goes for somewhere to hang out.

The person in front of me was there for a cough that she "just couldn't handle anymore". I never once heard her cough while we shared the miniscule breathing room that was the ER. Actually at one point her and her Kurt Cobain wanna-be boyfriend had a heated interlude that should have sent her "cough" into hysterics but nope, not even a throat clearing. Perhaps there's a bed in the lockdown unit for you and your imaginary cough. I hear Klonopin works wonders for such things.

Another man came in to retrieve his car keys that were in the pocket of the shirt they cut off of him the night prior. Now mind you, he rode his mountain bike straight into the ER lobby and requested said keys. I don't know about everyone else but if my shirt had to be cut from body in the EMERGENCY ROOM I would not be b-bopping around on my 5-speed! I later saw this man at the local pharmacy 3 miles away, when I went to pick up my scripts. Hey Lance, TAKE A CAB!

I've got to hand it to the nurses and Dr.'s. They don't even bat an eye at these nut jobs. They are even nice! I was rolling my eyes so hard my ocular muscles hurt the next day. *My mother was beyond pleased that I was unable to talk because she knows the level of my psychosis when it comes to such matters and I would have been grumbling to her the whole time.

Needless to say they drugged me and I'm now back to my bitchy joyful self.

Somewhere in the happens of last week I had my WTF appointment with Dr. T. J and I had decided that if this woman didn't have some cold hard facts as to why I'm not knocked up after 7 treatments we were taking our **bros and going home.

 Here's another fun fact you should know about me. In the hypothetical I’m one bad ass broad. I’ve given many a tongue lashing in my day. I've made owners of corporations, bosses, presidents, and wait staff crumble at my mere stare. In real life however, I tend to smile and nod a lot. So when the first words out of Dr. T's mouth were "you still have 2 day5 blasts on ice". I immediately spread my legs and told her to implant them bitches. I left the appointment feeling like I'd made some big dent in my infertility and we were on our way to twins!

I promptly called J's sister to discuss the appointment. She's beyond supportive and likes to know all the details and gives way more feedback than J. But on the down side she would never say, "Well, that kind of seems like the same line of B.S Dr. T has been feeding you for 1.5 yrs. You shoulda smacked a hoe." Instead she shared in my validation of the new same plan. It wasn't until I called J that I realized aside from some acupuncture and an additional bro we were doing our usual song and dance that leads to either a chemical or BFN and no chubby little ball of love with a full head of J's hair! (Don't pretend you're shocked by my level fantasizing)

So here we are about a week and half from starting my FET meds. The ones that I so affectionately refer to as vomitogen and ***'dirty band aid mark for weeks' patch. But this will at least use up all the snowbabies so a break up with my clinic will be a little easier if it's another fail.

Well there it is. I've been given a load of antibiotics, opioids, and B.S. in this last week. Bring it on!

*J doesn't handle the hospital well AT ALL. He becomes intensely anxious and irritable like he's having some kind of withdrawl. So I bring me Mum to such affairs as the ER.
** We refer to our embryos/blasts as "bros".
*** Does anyone have suggestions on how to remove those horrible sticky square outlines from your skin without getting a skin graph?

Here we go...

Here it is. My very first blog post. I've been reading blogs for almost 2 years now and I have no idea how to navigate this site. I'm technic logically stunted in my human growth. Facebook took me YEARS to even remotely understand and I still cannot edit my photos.

I decided to start my own blog for the simple fact that I NEED to get some things out of my head before I spew them into the faces of the unknowingly ignorant and fertile public.

About 3 years ago J and I had an "oops" pregnancy. (Yes, you can rest assured that hearing this phrase uttered by another now turns me into a feral cat that somebody tried to bathe) I carried that lovely little bump for 13wks when my sleazy hotel of a uterus evicted my ever so comfy tenant without so much as a 30 day notice. As you can imagine we were devastated. But, we picked ourselves up, dusted off, and decided to really "try" this time.

 HA! Little did we know J was harvesting blind tailless sperm in staggeringly low numbers and my ute prefers to eat and kill said sperm.

But needless to say we went on our merry ovulation kit, get it on, and test, circle of hell for a full year before seeing my OB for a WTF appt. My OB, whom I love, ran a few tests and referred us to an RE. After our first consult, Dr. T was fully confident that one IUI would have me knocked up in no time. So of course we picked out names and sent out our baby shower invites promptly.

FAIL! But ya know it was a fluke so let's give it another shot. FAIL!

As it turns out our local hillbilly lab misread J's sperm. First claiming he had millions of Michael Phelps champions eager to win the oocyte gold medal. Now we are told no one is showing up for the silver sneaker swim meet at the YMCA.

 Dr. T tells us IVF will get us where we need to be. SAY WHAT NOW?! What the hell is going on here? I was already preggo people! All that took was an early morning followed by a nap. Now you're trying to tell me you’re going to turn me into a pin cushion. Sounds perfect! Let's do it. Two months later....FAIL!
Well here we are 2 IUI's, 2 IVF's, and 2 FET's and still trucking along.

Now that you're caught up I would like to add my disclaimer here:

1. I am a brutally honest, sarcastic, generally annoyed infertile.
2. I love my J more than anything in the world but I will bash him occasionally on here.
3. A few friends and family know about our ART journey but most just think we're happy without kids.
4. J's family is ABSOLUTELY amazing. I mean I really can't say that enough.
5. I throughouly enjoy exclamation points and CAPS!!
6. I chose to name my blog "You know what you should try..." because I can't even begin to count the number of times I’ve heard those asinine words. I've started to finish the sentence with such things as “Truck stops? Swinger parties? Horse tranquilizers?

Well I don't know about you guys but already feel better....