Holding My Breath

I feel like half of the year I'm holding my breath and counting the days until one month passes into the next.

Case in point, February. I hate February and I'm so thankful it is the shortest month of the year. February is when everything changed for us. February is when the ectopic happened. February is when everything became much more complicated in our quest to have a baby. February is when our "just an ovulation problem" became a "tubal factor" and "ovulation problem". So for the past two Februarys I've held my breath and prayed for March to come fast.

I love March. Our anniversary is in March and we always go to Disneyland, dodging the strollers all day in our mission to get to the good rides.

But this year I found myself once again holding my breath when April came.  April would have been my due date month had I not miscarried in August.

And now we are in May and I'm still holding my breath, praying tomorrow and the rest of this month goes by fast. I don't like Mother's Day. I haven't gone to church on MD for the last two years. I just can't do it. Its too hard. I couldn't even make it through a baby dedication in January, I doubt my heart will allow me to make it through a church service. I'm not sure if I'll ever make my peace with Mother's Day.

I've been holding my breath through this month for the past 6 years, more so in the last 3 years since turning 30. The breath holding doesn't stop after Mother's Day, it continues until the day before my birthday, near the end of May, when I'm reminded that I'll be another year older and still no baby.

Its harder this year, because we're not trying to have a baby anymore. We're no longer doing treatments, and I'm sad. Sad that I'll never get to see my babies, heartbroken that they weren't meant for this world and tired of trying to put a happy face on a situation that sucks.

I'm not sure what kind of day I'll have tomorrow. I know the day is not all about me. I have a mom and Mother's Day is when I can honor her as my mom, and be thankful I get to spend such a day with her.

I just hate that I feel forgotten.

I'm sure I'll be holding my breath through most of tomorrow, but I'll do my best to remember to breathe.

To Try or Not To Try...

...that is the question.

For the last couple of weeks I've been struggling with whether I want to try again or not.  *sigh*.  It seems like such an easy and natural thing that my body should be able to do, but it can't...or won't. I haven't decided on which yet.

I've been taking this stuff called Fertilaid for the last six months. I'm taking it for the vitamin benefits rather than the conceiving benefits. (but if they help us conceive then, yay!) For the most part it keeps my cycles regular, when I remember to take the pills. I'm the worst pill taker in history and there are 3 that must be taken daily. Some days I forget to take it and other days I don't remember that I have taken it. Each month I tell myself that I will remember to take the pills every day.

Since starting to take the Fertilaid I've been tempted to see if its actually working - meaning if I'm actually ovulating. I'm not going to lie. I do get a little excited at the prospect of the Fertilaid actually working. Because if it is working...I can try to get pregnant without the help of daily injections of fertility drugs, bloodwork, ultrasounds and doctor's appointments. I can try to get pregnant the normal way.

But in the midst of the daydreams...reality strikes and the tears soon follow as all the disappointments of trying come to the surface.

I'm reminded that I've been trying to get pregnant for the last six and a half years. I have only one tube near an ovary that isn't dominate. I've only ever been pregnant through medical intervention. I don't ovulate on my own, and because I have PCOS 50% of my eggs are probably bad. Suddenly, the concept of trying doesn't feel so easy or inviting. Not trying feels like the saner, safer option.

All this 'try or not try' thinking had totally overtaken my thoughts leaving no room to focus on adoption. I realized that I didn't even want to have anything to do with it, which made me feel...awful and ungrateful. Ungrateful of a miracle that God probably has waiting for us through adoption.

I had wanted something to focus my mind on...besides adoption, but I had picked the one thing that I had been trying to let go of since September.

So I'm back on the adoption train.

I don't know if I'll ever really get over the concept of not trying, but I can move on from that way of thinking. Because getting over and moving on are two totally different things.