It’s pretty obvious that my life has been in limbo for the last 2 years 9 months.

I’m currently going through the second baby-boom with 4 people I know that are concurrently pregnant, and a horrible, sneaking, cold-chill inducing fear that my sister-in-law is going to be next (not to mention my next door neighbour). They got married a couple of years back, her husband is now home after 6 months away on a boat and more permanently stationed on land (Navy man). They’ve just got back from a huge, no-expenses spared holiday in the Caribbean (way more than anything we can afford), and before they left she said to me We’ve got to do it while we still can.

I know a pregnancy is coming and I’m terrified. Terrified of how it’ll make me feel, and terrified that all my baby things, which I’ve so determinedly held onto, will be under call for donation (our families do not know we are still trying because it just became too difficult to keep telling them about the losses). I really don’t know how to prepare for this, or what the hell I’m going to do when it happens. I wanted to be done, so I could help out, and be a fantastic auntie, and be on hand for my SIL. But instead I’ll be tearful and jealous and I won’t be able to visit them and my mother-in-law will talk about the new baby all the time and expect me to do that thing that mothers do when they’ve had their families – get all soppy about babies. Oh gawd, we’re gonna have to move to another country. Seriously.

And on top of that, I’ve become horribly aware over the last few months of just how much my life is on hold. I do pretty much nothing career-wise, despite being highly educated and previously a proud and conscientious employee. My sense of self, my sense of worth has fallen so far. I haven’t been shopping for new clothes (other than the absolute basics here and there) for over two years. Almost everything I own has a hole in it somewhere. I asked for knickers and socks for Christmas. I don’t like to ask my husband for money to buy new things because a) I’m not earning and b) I’m just kind of waiting to get pregnant so I can wear these things out for good and chuck them. I can’t even really explain why I’m slobbing around in old clothes to be honest. Well – I can, it’s because nothing else is as important to me as this baby. I have energy, and I’m reasonably intelligent, and I could write or program for money, and I think I’ve got the guts and the resources to freelance my way to a reasonable income, but I just have false start after false start because I keep coming back to the obsessing, the reading, the research, the everything.

(Did I mention I found out I had a mild B12 deficiency? It was in my medical records that I requested for the clinic, but no doctor thought to tell me. DER!!!! I’m taking methylcobalamin now – best bioavailability – and don’t even get me started on the research linking low B12 and miscarriage rates.)

The thing is, I AM better than I was. I am no longer a tearful mess. I eat pretty damn well most of the time, I have fairly consistent energy levels physically and I’m more content, more happy at home than I have been for a long time. I don’t cry every day like I used to. In fact, I’m in quite good spirits about 50% of the time! Ha.

But progress is slow. I still have bad days. Bad weeks even. And I feel like I’m never really going to do anything until I shake this RPL ball and chain. My life is tick-tocking by, along with my body clock.

How far are we willing to go? Do we want to approach IVF? Do we really want to do that when we cannot afford to? Really? And what if it fails? Then what? Do we call it quits, or carry on trying?

What if it never happens? How long am I prepared to wait?

In some ways, RPL has been a blessing. Without it I may not have discovered I was celiac. I could still be suffering bloating, gas, running bowel movements, eczema, exhaustion, weird rashes, heart arrhythmia and building up to a whole host of much worse issues as I get older. I could still be drinking tons of caffeine instead of being able to power through the day without that horrible afternoon slump. I could be eating crap food and wondering why my body is falling apart. RPL has given me the awareness and power to radically improve my health – even if there has been no baby. I’m undoubtedly in better shape now that I’ve been in for years. None of that would have happened if I hadn’t been trying to create a safe, healthy environment to grow a child.

But the benefits are going to run out soon. I can’t get younger. And neither can my eggs.

Cycle update

I did eventually get a temp rise this month, but it took several days post my opk to go up. I don’t know if that’s just a slow rise, or a late egg release, but my temps are nice and high now, which I am relieved about (stay away menopause!). We’re heading towards the month I had planned to get pregnant – I’ll ovulate in about three weeks I guess and this is going to be the one. If it’s not, we thought maybe IVF. And I know we need to make the decision so we’re not left waiting around for ages getting tests and all sorts before they can get started.

Everything else in life seems to move too fast, and all this baby stuff seems to move too slow. It’s frustrating as hell. I’ve never been any good at waiting, or multi-tasking, and this whole thing has just totally floored me and my progress in life. I’m almost embarrassed to meet up with friends socially because I have just done NOTHING for so long. How can I explain I’ve been dealing with pregnancy, loss, medical tests, research, appointments, tears, joy, hope and despair? And that’s another thing – my social life is pretty much nonexistent anyway where I’ve cut myself off from so many people.

Eugh!!! I want to be happy and pregnant! Is that too much to ask? I want to get back out there and feel good again!

What am I gonna do people? This is a theoretical question – I know I’m the only one who can answer it. I’ve got to look deep inside and find the answer and then somehow decide that I’ll integrate that answer into a successful life, regardless of what actually happens.

What I do know is, as long as I am TTC, I’m not putting 100% into anything else in my life. As long as I am TTC, everything else gets the leftovers. And that’s no way to live.

13 thoughts on “Decisions”

  1. Rose, so much of this resonates with me. I have been feeling and behaving very similarly. The frumpy daily outfits, the lack of interest in social gatherings, the 100% of my focus on TTC. I agree that life has been put on pause. Somehow, I feel like there are people who cope with this with less tunnel-vision. I’m not sure how they do this (DW does this, but I think it’s because she represses her grief, while I try to control things as a coping mechanism). I just hope that we all make it to the other side really quick.

    • Me too. i can’t go on like this! I’ve always been very much focused on one thing – which has paid off brilliantly in terms of academia and work, travel, planning a wedding, etc., but is just useless when dealing with something so beyond our control. I know I need to change my approach, but it’s hard…

      • I agree. It is hard. I wonder if the point isn’t to change yourself, but to find some kind of peace within it. Like roll with the ups and downs as a part of life. I dunno. I struggle so much too.

      • I too resonate deeply with what you have shared in this post. I find it amazing how much my life has changed in the last 2.5 years, and at time how much I have struggled to live beyond our losses. I’ve left my job, which used to be define my entire life. I’m starting to try to pull myself back into the professional world, yet I find that I am struggling to make any movement in any direction – this is foreign to me.
        Like you said in the comment above, I feel useless at trying to deal with someone so beyond my control and trying to accept that I cannot have something I want, because I’ve almost always been able to overcome. I wonder if Mama et Maman is right – we need to try to find peace within and accept the road? But then of course I have to ask, how?

        • How indeed. I wish I knew. I *want* to be more accepting of it all, but everytime I think I’m getting there I end up obsessing again, picking at all the emotions like a scab that won’t heal. I also have this weird thing going on in my head that I think people feel sorry for me, which I hate the thought of, and nothing can cure that except proving that I can do it, which is madness in itself. Eugh, hate this!

          • It’s funny, I also think people feel sorry for us and I HATE that. And yet, at the same time I want people to be more sympathetic and compassionate. It seems weird, until I remind myself that feeling sorry for someone is very different then being compassionate.

          • It is. Compassion is good – it’s a helpful thing. Pity though… eugh. I don’t want to be the object of anyone’s pity 🙁

  2. I share so many of these feelings. And I agree with the commenters above that finding peace with the journey would be the best way to cope, but I obviously haven’t been able to do that yet. Sending hugs and love to you.

  3. Hi there, I’m new to your blog. I have 2 girls and have been hoping for a third baby as well. I’ve had several first trimester miscarriages and just had a devastating second trimester miscarriage last month. A perfect little boy. I’ve had one normal cycle since delivering him, so we are going to try again this month. I just had some random mid-cycle spotting, which I read could be an indication of a spike in estrogen, so I’m fairly certain I’m ovulating today. I’m so scared to get pregnant again, but I want a third baby, so here we go! Reading just a few of your blog entries, I’ve come across so much I can relate with. I’m so sorry you’ve had so many losses. It’s just not fair. I hate it.

    • I am so, so sorry for your loss. Why do our bodies do these things? There seems to be no sense in it. I really hope you get your third – I know what it’s like to have that dream, that idea, in your head. It’s like we can’t move on with life until we’ve got it all how we want it to be. Thank you for stopping by and I wish you lots of luck and love xxx

  4. Hi there, I’m new to your blog. I have 2 kids, hoping for a third as well. I’ve had several first trimester miscarriages, and last month I went through a devastating second trimester loss of a perfect little boy. I can relate to so much of what you shared here. I just wanted to say I’m so sorry for all your losses. It’s just not fair. I hate it. I’m fairly certain I’m ovulating today, so we are going to try again. I’m so scared to get pregnant again, but I want a third baby, so here we go!

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