Announcement

I haven't been allowed to say anything since Christmas because they wanted to keep it a secret for a while, but my sister is pregnant. She's due August 20th. They've been married for less years than Jeremy and I have been trying to get pregnant. I knew before-hand that they were talking about starting to try sometime in the near future. But I had no idea that they had actually started trying until our family get-together at Christmas when she hands both me and my brother a card we have to open at the same time. It was her, standing in front of a sign in London, that says something about seats being reserved for disabled or pregnant people. It was a huge shock. I'm pretty sure my heart stopped for a minute. Somewhere, way deep down around my toenails, I was really happy for her. Unfortunately, that feeling didn't make it to my face. I didn't give her the reaction I wanted to be able to give her. I didn't cry . . . much . . . right then. But it was about the same time that I was having to take my clomid so I was already frustrated with everything and all I could think about was that it was supposed to be me. I'm the older sister. I've been married longer. I've been TTC longer. Why couldn't it be me, too? It would have been so much fun to be pregnant at the same time as my sister.
Jeremy didn't pick up on what was going on right away so it didn't hit him as quickly. And then I think he was trying to be strong for me, but not sure what to do. My sister-in-law didn't realize the whole struggle Jeremy and I have been through so she was gushing and asking questions. We were at my brother's townhouse and I had nowhere to go. I had to sit there and hold it in.
Jeremy and I cried for ourselves that night, trying to figure out exactly what we were thinking and feeling. We drove home the next day and so had lots of time to hash it out as we made the journey west from TN to TX. Somewhere around the middle of Arkansas, I started to come to grips with it. I do like the name Aunt Amy. And I have all sorts of cute ideas of things I can make for this niece or nephew. I'm just sad for myself.
I called my sister several days later and apologized for not giving her the reaction I wanted to be able to give her. I wanted to jump up and hug her neck and squeal with joy and gush like my sister-in-law did, but I physically couldn't. I told her a lot of the things I was feeling and going through. She had been a little worried about how I would take it and had even asked Mom and Dad how she should tell me. They reassured her that I would be happy for her, but would also be sad.
Most days I'm doing okay with the thought of it. But I still have down days. And with her making the public announcement on facebook yesterday, today was sort of hard. It doesn't help that I'm exhausted because I work all the time and don't stop to rest . . . and was up early this morning. And I'm hormonal . . . because I'm hormonal all the time!
My bittersweet announcement. Wasn't what you were expecting, was it? Me, either.

Lost

Do you ever just feel lost? It's not so much that you don't know exactly where you are, but more a case of you don't really know how you got there? That's the way I feel.
I know where I am. I'm working full-time for a job I don't hate but don't necessarily love either. I'm sitting on about three manuscripts I want to get published, but not sure how to get them that way. I'm 5 years past when I wanted to start having children. I'm living in a tiny apartment where I can usually find what I'm looking for but which we never completely unpacked because we didn't have room . . . and now seem to have less room. I'm married to a great guy, but sometimes it feels like we're just taking turns fighting this battle of infertility. I'm frustrated and down-hearted, but trying to be positive and think "it's only been two months of 100mg clomid. The doctor said we'd try for 6 months before giving up and going to something else." But every month is another heart-ache . . . and I've done the math. Assuming I have about 11 periods a year (this is assuming a lot since I'm not anything close to regular when I'm not on some sort of pill), my heart has been broken over the same thing close to sixty times now. And I keep picking up all the little tiny pieces and fitting them back together, taping them up again, hoping the glue will hold this time. I'm not giving up. I'm just trying to find a reason not to.
I was talking to a friend the other night who went through infertility and ended up adopting. She told me that they started out with the plan of adoption if everything else didn't work out. Their child is perfect for their family. Just what God had planned. And she said it helped her to remind herself that even if they didn't have a child "naturally," she would end up with a child no matter what because she knew she had that other route. Jeremy and I have always talked about adopting a kid or two eventually. We just never really thought it might be more something we needed to do to have kids at all. So, it is an option for us. And I know we'll have a child (or more) eventually. I don't know how or when or anything else that might resemble a detail. But I know that much.
I just need a map to get me from here . . . to there.

Holding Pattern

You know how annoying it is when you're in a plane, flying in circles, waiting for the airport to say you can land? That's sort of how I feel about my whole life right now. Like I'm just flying in circles waiting for the go-ahead. I hate this part of the month, where I can't really do anything else to further my desire for mommy-hood except just wait and pray. And so, right now, every prayer I say starts with, "Please God, please let it have worked this time."

Update

For those of you who are keeping track, we're on to cycle three. I started my pills again last night. Merry Christmas to me. It was really hard to accept this time. With the proof of ovulation a month or so ago, it was like all our excuses for it not working were out the window. Jeremy had a hard time with it, too. He may have had an even harder time than I did although I shed my share of tears. I'm doing better again. After all, even though each new cycle comes with disappointment, it also comes with hope. The doctor said we'd try this for six months/cycles and see what happens. We've got five more shots before we have to move on to another plan. Keep praying. I may need even more peace later this week when we get together with some of my extended family, including a cousin with a baby. It's not that I don't want her to have an extremely cute child. I know somewhere deep down inside I even might want to meet the kid and love on him. But right now it's hard because I don't have one, too. And I did the math the other day . . . I'll now be at least 31 before I get to be a mommy. So much for having kids at 25. Or even around the same time as my mom. She turned 31 several months after I was born. I know there's no real time-frame we're obligated to fill, but it's frustrating to see me getting older year after year with not much to show for it.
Sorry if I've depressed you all on Christmas day, but I know a lot of you are keeping up with me and would want to know. Pray hard!

Second Ultrasound . . . or Third, really, I guess

Second round of clomid is complete. We did 100 mg this time instead of 50. I went in for the ultrasound today. I was around day 17. Nothing in the right ovary. Left ovary showed signs of . . . wait. Doesn't that look like I already ovulated? Yep. Yep, it does. Wahoo! I did something most women take for grated every month!
Now, please pray HARD that everything gets together like it's supposed to. And that I won't count my chickens too much before they hatch. . . . again.

Results

I took a test tonight. It was negative. I'll call the doctor next week to discuss the next step of the plan. I hate this. I had gotten my hopes up really high this time . . . it just FELT like it worked. And then . . .
It was going to be perfect timing because we could have announced it to the families at Thanksgiving . . .
I was even okay with being pregnant through the summer.
But . . .
It was negative. Only one stripe instead of two. Again.

You would think. . .

You would think that with the time change, I'd be asleep already. Instead, I'm up and my brain won't shut off. No. It's not THAT late, but it is getting close to my bedtime.
For those of you who wanted to know, my doctor visit last week was inconclusive. He saw a follicle that was about 16mm, but he really wanted it closer to 20 to prove ovulation. He told me to do the every-other-day sex for a week and then take a test around day 35 if a new cycle didn't start by then. I'm to call him either way. If it doesn't work, we'll do a double nose next cycle.
I have no idea if it worked or not. I'm trying very hard not to over-analyze everything my body is doing or not doing right now. I'm busy and stressed at work because it's payroll week and we had something else dumped on us which means I got some overtime (not always a good thing). I was stressed at home thinking about whether or not the clomid had worked. And I was stressed because I knew I wasn't supposed to be stressed since that makes it harder to get pregnant.
Add to that I've started nanowrimo again. I'm over 10,000 words already, but I'm writing a story of two sisters who have to learn to love each other through their own separate struggles. The older sister struggles with infertility. It's hard to write, and yet not hard at all. It's been building up in me the last year or so and I'm just now to where I feel like I can let it out again.
So, now you're sort of updated on me.
Stressed but blessed. And now I should really go to bed.