This is my top 10 list of things not to say to someone who is struggling with fertility issues. There have been many people who mean well and don’t know what to say so they go with cliché statements. What they don’t understand is what it means to someone who is in the middle of a personal war. This is a list of things that I have heard/experienced in the past year.

1. Just relax and it will happen. Seriously? Why didn’t I think of that!

2. Anything having to do with God’s will. So your telling me that God thinks I would make a terrible Mother?

3. Have you thought about adoption? Your telling me that I’m broken. Have YOU thought about adoption?

4. You will understand when you are a Mother. Just flat out hurtful.

5. Maybe you should try antidepressants (my personal favorite). Said to me after my last miscarriage. Let me assure you that what I was feeling was appropriate for what I was going through.

6. You should get a puppy. You should get a brain.

7. Stop trying.

8. Don’t discount what I’m feeling and try to put a happy spin on things. Thank you for trying to make me feel better or make yourself less uncomfortable, but sometimes I just need to be pissed.

9. Don’t complain to me about your pregnancy/kids. It’s pouring salt on my wounds.

10. Don’t pity me. That just makes it worse. This situation is what it is and I am managing it. Some days are better than others. When you pity me it says to me that you think that I am less than you.  I am not.

For those of you who have never struggled with this I bet you think this is pretty harsh.  For those of you who are walking this path I bet you think I am right on the money.  In fact you can probably add to this list.

I have delayed writing this update because I was just too angry to put things into words. It is decision time and I’m not sure which direction to go, so I think it is best if I sit still and wait for a few clues. We are at a fork in the road and I’ve always been a path less travelled kind of girl, even if that path has some scary sections. Now the thought of the scary section is overwhelming.


Let me back up and fill you in. Last week we were going to try our first IUI. I felt so excited and hopeful again, for the first time in a long time. I went back on clomid (fertility drug) which I hate, but that is what the Dr wanted. I questioned the dosage; I went from being an “excellent responder” on 50mgs to 150mgs??? They reassured me that it would be fine.


My appointments were set and again I questioned the timing. I know my body and I know my body on the drugs and it didn’t seem right to me. Again, I was reassured that everything was just fine. Everything was not just fine. Jim was on a trip and I could feel the pressure and cramping on my right ovary. The Dr’s office finally let me come in and I was right, I would ovulate right when I said I would. The follicle was huge, the Dr labeled it “gorgeous”.


I told Jim the news and he got the chief pilot to let him out of the rest of his trip so that he could come home. Originally Jim did not want the chief pilot to even know his name, now the guy knows when it’s time to make the donuts.


So Jim flew home late Tuesday night and we went in for the IUI on Wednesday morning. I had butterflies before that appointment. This is it I thought. We are finally going to get pregnant again. What happened next completely rocked my world. The Dr did another ultrasound before the procedure and said that it “is not a happy egg” and it would be a waste of time to proceed. The follicle had gotten so large that the egg could not ovulate.  The purpose and timing of taking clomid was to produce a bigger, better quality egg.  I believe the dosage was way to high and caused the problem this month.  I did not have to go through this.


I was given a trigger shot and we were told to go home and try on our own just in case, but that it was not going to happen this month. Honestly, I believe I was given the trigger shot so that it would not turn into a cyst.


As the Dr was leaving the room I asked what was the plan for the next cycle since this one was obviously a bust. That got his attention and he led us into another room. “This is going no where”, he said. It is time to move on to IVF with genetic testing on the embryos before they are implanted. My ears pounded like a bomb had just gone off. I did have the where with all to ask the cost, $15,000 per try.


How did I go from an “excellent responder” who did not need assisted reproduction to moving on to the last resort during the course of one appointment?  The only thing we have tried is clomid and it is shown to not have a high success rate for women who ovulate on their own.  That's me.  There are so many other things that we can try first before moving on to IVF.


After I was given the trigger shot I was ushered out of the exam room and told to see the receptionist to “say goodbye”. She seemed confused and asked when I needed to schedule the next appointment. My nurse said “no more appointments”.


So that’s it. They broke up with us.


Twelve hours after the trigger shot the follicle ruptured. It was the most intense pain I have ever felt in my life. I was doubled over crying and considering a trip to the emergency room. After 30 minutes, a hot bath, and 3 Advil the pain eased up and I just felt bruised. Like I had been kicked in the gut (I had been hadn’t I?).


Once the initial shock wore off we decided to look into other Dr’s and try IUI before moving on to the next step. For now we plan on enjoying the holidays. Trying to conceive has taken over every aspect of our lives. I will put that same energy into the holidays and let things go for now.  I can't bear the idea of seeming my family this year due to the rather large pink elephant in the room.  So we will lay low and have a quiet holiday at home.  Right or wrong, I have too much shame right now.


We will resume this battle after the start of the year. I know that this blog tends to be depressing, but that’s the point. This is very depressing. I can’t always put a good spin on things, it’s just too exhausting. I wish I could be someone more inspirational and find the positive in this situation, but right now I feel beaten down.

This was posted on a dear friends blog http://www.nottheuglyduckling.blogspot.com/ and another friend of mine reminded me of this tonight and I think it bears repeating.

Original-


There are women who become mothers without effort, without thought, without patience or loss, and though they are good mothers and love their children, I know that I will be better.

I will be better not because of genetics or money or because I have read more books, but because I have struggled and toiled for this child. I have longed and waited. I have cried and prayed. I have endured and planned over and over again.

Like most things in life, the people who truly have appreciation are those who have struggled to attain their dreams.

I will notice everything about my child. I will take time to watch my child sleep,explore,and discover. I will marvel at this miracle every day for the rest of my life.

I will be happy when I wake in the middle of the night to the sound of my child, knowing that I can comfort, hold, and feed him and that I am not waking to take another temperature, pop another pill, take another shot or cry tears of a broken dream. My dream will be crying for me.

I count myself lucky in this sense; that God has given me this insight, this special vision with which I will look upon my child.

Whether I parent a child I actually give birth to or a child that God leads me to, I will not be careless with my love.

I will be a better mother for all that I have endured. I am a better wife, a better aunt, a better daughter, neighbor, friend, and sister because I have known pain. I know disillusionment, as I have been betrayed by my own body. I have been tried by fire and hell that many never face, yet given time, I stood tall.

I have prevailed.

I have succeeded.

I have won.

So now, when others hurt around me, I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort. I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs. I listen. And even though I cannot make it better, I can make it less lonely.

I have learned the immense power of another hand holding tight to mine, of other eyes that moisten as they learn to accept the harsh truth when life is beyond hard.

I have learned a compassion that only comes by walking in those shoes. I have learned to appreciate life.

Yes, I will be a wonderful mother.

- Author Unknown

I’m just hanging out trying not to ovulate. A friend suggested I hang upside down in an effort to delay the inevitable. I’ve kept a secret this month. We were going to try an IUI (intrauterine insemination) and I went back on clomid so I would produce a big beautiful follicle.

Timing is everything in this game and our timing couldn’t be worse. I questioned the timing, but the Dr’s office assured me they had my appointments set correctly. Jim is on a trip so it’s kind of hard to conceive if we are not even in the same state.

Originally my ultrasound to check the follicles was schedule for Wednesday and the insemination on Thursday. This morning I knew that I would ovulate before Wednesday. Before Jim gets home. I called the Dr’s office and they finally agreed to let me come in. What do you know; I know my body better than they do. There it was, larger than life, my big juicy follicle just waiting to burst. They acted surprised and I swallowed my anger.

It’s so frustrating to know that this opportunity will pass. I took a drug that I truly detest. I took one for the team. I will endure the hotflashes and emotional roller coaster that are waiting for me as a result of clomid.

I wanted to move the appointment up to Friday so we could get a better handle on the timing and give Jim a chance to get out of his trip. Instead I have been left hanging.

It’s amazing what a few kind words can do to turn your day around. So often we think good thoughts about a person and then do not share those thoughts. Why? It’s one of the few things that is still free and frankly it feels good. It feels good to let someone know that you see them in a good light and it feels amazing to get an honest compliment.

Today my boss forwarded a very kind email about me that someone had sent her. It came from an unlikely source and really made me feel like I had accomplished something. Validation!

Those kind words took my mind off of heavier subjects and it is a welcome break. Think someone is terrific? Tell them. You may be surprised what a difference it can make.

Today I had the pleasure of going on a fieldtrip for work and met some incredible individuals. We visited RHD-MO which is a wonderful place that provides an artistic outlet for people who have been labeled developmentally disabled. The cool thing is they focus on abilities and not the “dis” of that label.

They have art workshops and are guided by professional artists to explore and express themselves. Art shows allow the artists an opportunity to sell their work and be part of the community.

However, my favorite part is the music studio. Again individuals are supported by professional musicians to create their own songs. As I was leaving I was given CD’s of their work to check out. I couldn’t wait to listen to them and popped them in the CD player in the car. The first song I heard both touched me and cracked me up. A young man summed up his view of the world. You’re Pretty or You’re Poo Poo. I wish I could put the song on here, but it is copyrighted. It’s been running through my head all evening. It’s quite a catchy tune.

Here’s a link to their website. Check them out and if you feel inclined find a way to support this wonderful place. They just opened in February and have already made a difference in many lives. http://www.rhd-mo.org/

Since making the decision to take a break from baby making I have been looking for a way to fill my time. The Cardio Theatre at Gold’s Gym is filling the bill quite nicely. I can totally lose track of time and let me mind wonder.

In fact it wondered so far away from the treadmill that I shot off the back of the damn thing. Just another one of my “precious moments” I suppose. I must have forgotten to keep moving.

I am trying to lose the extra pounds that have crept onto my body in the past year and a half. It is not leaving as quickly as I would like. Apparently I am a fabulous host and the fat would prefer to stay right where it’s at. How rude!

If I can’t sweat the stuff off of me then I may just have to resort to yoga classes. I used to do yoga at home and loved it. I have to confess that I have a secret fear of yoga in a class setting. I’m afraid I will toot during downward dog or something, ‘cause hey that’s the way I roll.

I've lost 5 pounds in the last 2 weeks.  Nice start, but not going to cut it.  Anyone have any weight loss tips or secrets?  Please share 'em if you've got 'em.

I am married to a very driven man. Sometimes what drives him drives me insane. For most people running a marathon would be the ultimate. For him it has become predictable, 26.2 miles in roughly 3 hours. So now it’s time to raise the stakes and train for a triathlon, much to my dismay.

I am trying to be fair. For the past year he has not run a marathon and at times I have been a tyrant about how strenuous his activity could be because it could hurt our chances of conceiving. Both times we conceived came after he finished a marathon and was no longer training.

Telling him not to do something is the fastest way to ensure that he will do the opposite. “Just run for the love of it.” I tell him. For him the love of it is testing himself. He can not simply run up the hill, he has to time himself and then beat his previous time.  For him a hill is not simply an incline, but more Mt. Everest like.

At the gym, I had the pleasure of being one row behind him while he was on the elliptical machine. I strolled on the treadmill at a moderate pace content to let my mind wonder - until he caught my eye. I nearly flew off of the back of the treadmill when I looked up to see him punishing the machine. Most people have the settings at a moderate pace, he had the thing pegged and was stomping on the peddles like he was trying to teach them a lesson. I wondered what crazy goal he had set for himself. Will they ever invent a machine that will kick his @ss?

It is time for a marathon. I hate marathon training. Really I do, but he will not be content again until he has quenched his competitive spirit. This is one of the reasons I have decided to extend the baby making break. Expecting Jim to go for a nice easy run is like asking the wind not to blow.

So run your marathon and save the triathlon for another day. It can be your incentive to knock me up already!

I’m enjoying this baby break and thinking about extending it until the start of the year. I would have loved for it to have happened all on its own this month, but I just don’t think that is ever going to happen. For some reason after the last loss I have not recovered. I am broken. I hate the label infertile and have fought against it with all my might. Right now I am completely sick of doctors, needles, tests, and instruments being shoved where the sun don’t shine.

The first time Jim went with me to a doctor’s appointment he turned white as a ghost during the internal ultrasound. He said he wasn’t sure how to feel seeing his wife spread eagle and a crowd of people molesting her in the name of medicine. Now he doesn’t even flinch and can even manage to ask the questions that I suddenly forget once I’m on the table.

Before you get mad, I am not giving up; just giving it a rest for a while. This has literally consumed my life for almost 2 years now and I am tired of fertility (or lack there of) defining me.

Right now I am trying to focus on all of the things that I can do because I am not tied down with little ones.

Here’s my list so far:
1. Take off on a moments notice to fly around with Jim
2. Sleep late
3. Sleep 8 hours straight through
4. Soak in the bathtub for as long as I like
5. Use bad words with reckless abandon instead of a watered down version
6. Give an adult conversation my full attention
7. Shop
8. Watch something other than Disney
9. Own breakable items and plants and not worry about little hands getting into them
10. Going to dinner at a place that does not have a kids menu

None of this is really any consolation. My list of what’s missing is much longer, but I’m trying to look on the bright side.

I keep coming up with new ways to relieve stress. I’ve tried to change the way I look at the world. I even bought a pair of rose colored glasses in hopes that the cliché is true (it’s not by the way).

Jim and I joined a gym and I spent 50 minutes in the cardio theatre last night and felt like I could take on the world when I came out of there. Sweat soaked and full of piss and vinegar just daring someone to cross me.

Never extend a dare.

Lately I am shocked and amazed at the behavior of people I encounter. Whether it be in traffic, in line at the grocery store, or even at work; people are just downright rude. My usual approach is to let it roll off of me. Chances are I don’t really like the person anyway so who cares. However, it is getting very tiresome. Why must they ruin my Zen?

When did we as a society stop holding doors open for people? When did it become a race to the checkout line and why does the person with an overflowing cart think its okay to cut off the person with one or two items? And then pay with a check? That they didn’t fill out ahead of time? When did we stop apologizing when we are wrong?

This isn’t intended to be a cranky rant, just my observations. Whatever happened to manners? Are we all overly scheduled stress cases? Have we spent so much time on our computers and cellphones that we have forgotten how to interact with people face to face. R.I.P common courtesy.

When life hands you lemons you make lemonade right? Or do you suck on them and make the pucker face? Well lately it seems I have chosen to make the pucker face. I have not had the fierce willpower needed to push through all of the muck and get on with things.

During the drive home from our great weekend I decided I was going to color my hair. It was time for a change. Yes, that is woman logic at it’s finest. Every fall I get the notion to go brown or even red. This year I finally did it. Jim more or less dared me to. He said that I am pretty conservative when it comes to my hair color. So I marched myself straight out to get a bottle of color – L’Oreal Preference 6AM, Light Amber Brown.

Within 30 minutes I had the change I was looking for. It changed my attitude. Suddenly I am, to quote Tyra Banks, “fierce”. Not on the outside, but on the inside. Usually I am a people pleaser. I think I have been pushed to my breaking point and now I am taking the attitude that I will do what I can do and only what I can do. Fierce.

I will stand firm when life throws lemons at me hands me lemons. Bruises be damned. I am fierce.

Jim and I traveled to Illinois this weekend for his cousin's wedding.  When his Father passed away we said that we should all get together under better circumstances and this was just such an occasion.  What a great family.  We laughed and told stories and for an evening I completely forgot about the events of the past year. 

Today I feel so happy.  I loved sitting next to my husband while another VH couple took their vows.  I held Jim's hand and thought - so that's what we said to each other 2 1/2 years ago.  I was in a trance during our vows.  Almost like I was standing beside myself observing the whole thing.  I wish I could have a "do over" for our wedding.  I want to soak in every second of it.  No nerves this time, I would completely get lost in the moment.

I hope that Jim's cousin and his bride made wonderful memories tonight.  The music was perfect and the little ones put on quite a show on the dance floor.  A new branch of the family was formed.  The garter toss was perfection.  I think his cousin missed his calling and should have been an actor - what comedic timing.  When you watch the newlyweds together you get a sense that they will make it, that they are completely comfortable together.  They will navigate their way through for better or worse.  Like I said, it was a great night.

Congratulations to the bride and groom.  May you have a very long and happy life together.

Flexibility is the cornerstone of my existence and I pride myself on being able to change plans and go with the flow. Lately I think I am stretched to the end of my range of motion (picture the game Twister). More and more I am just wanting things my own way. This is not a good thing considering I am an assistant at work and a wife at home. When it comes to making a baby so much of it is beyond my control and now I need to rely on doctors, which takes even more control out of my hands.

Our plan for next cycle was to be one of the first patients at The Fertility Partnership and I was hanging a lot of hope on this new venture. It made taking a break this cycle easier to cope with. Today I found out that they will be delayed a couple of weeks for the opening due to a construction delay. It will not open in time for us to properly time an IUI next month. I’m crushed.  More delays and lost time and another month down the drain.

So now it is time to come up with a new revision to the plan. I think we are up to plan Z, possibly even double digits, I’ve lost count. I will dig deep and find another scrap of flexibility to change plans. Stay tuned for the next episode of mi vida loca (my crazy life).

Trying to make a baby takes on a life of it's own sometimes.  Other times it just takes over your life.  It's time to balance trying to conceive with everyday life.  Right now it's hard to separate the two, but I feel like I need to do just that to be a happier/better Traci.

This month we are on a break from all things baby, however, I am still obsessively POAS (peeing on a stick) to see when I will ovulate.  I tell myself that it is only for planning purposes for the next cycle.  Jim has to bid his schedule for next month so I need to tell him when to be home.  Really it's a shot in the dark because it varies from month to month

Balancing the baby obsessed Traci with the normal everyday Traci is not an easy task.  Before I go potty I calculate how long it's been since the last time I went.  How long of a hold have I had? (this can effect the accuracy of ovulation tests and pregnancy tests.)  Oooooh a 4 hour hold, don't want to waste it.  Then quick mental math to see what day I am on in my cycle to see if I should take an ovulation test or if it is too early to take a pregnancy test.  All the while trying not to pee my pants while I attempt to unwrap the appropriate test.  Never in a million years would I have believed how ridiculous this would all get.

Comments like "Just relax and it will happen" are so frustrating.  Number one it is impossible to be relaxed when you are trying to relax.  You try it right now while you are reading this.  I'll wait....see not that easy is it.  When something as simple and everyday as going potty triggers a flurry of ttc (trying to conceive) thoughts it's very hard not to richochet out of control. 

I have to find a way to let go a little.  It doesn't mean that I am giving up, just that something has to change.  Lately I feel the need to protect my heart and the only way to do that is to let go.  My dear friends and family have been so supportive and want this for Jim and I as much as we do.  Each month that it doesn't happen I not only face my own disappointment, but feel like I have let them down.

When I decided to write this blog I needed to get my thoughts and feelings out.  No holds barred commentary on what I feel.  Some days it's depressing and that's okay because it's what I feel. Not everyone will have children and I am trying to come to terms with that possibility.  Other days I'm hopeful and find humor in all of this and I will write about that too.

We are definately taking this month off from trying to conceive.  It's kind of hard to make a baby when you are not even in the same country!  It was hard to let it go this month, but now that I've had time to get over it, it's actually kind of nice.  Getting to that point was not easy.  I hate clomid to put it mildly and I went and filled a prescription I had that was double the dose of what I had previously taken.  I'm not sure what I was thinking.  I was desperate to not let this month go.  Much to Jim's relief I didn't take it.  I kept looking at the rx bottle and the 2 little pills I woud have to take for 5 days.  I had to laugh when I looked at the pills and thought, one to make me bitchy and the other to give me hotflashes.  I just couldn't do it.  So this cycle is a bust.  No crazy two week wait wondering if it happened this month.  I'm going to try to take off some of the lbs I've packed on this past year.  Stress and hormones have not been kind to my waistline.

Today was a retail therapy day.  Not sure how therapeutic it really was.  Dressing room lighting and 3 way mirrors are not my friend!  Apparently someone tried on every pair of pants that I tried on right ahead of me and got their cellulite all over them.  That is the only reasonable explanation of how it ended up all over my legs.  Yuck.  It's time to invest in an elliptical machine ASAP!!!

I got to see my little 9 month old buddy M. today.  Love that kid.  I can't help but smile when he's around.  I love that he grins great big when he sees me and crawls right over to say hi.  He pulled himself up on me and it happened.  I heard hope whisper in my ear.  Whew, thank goodness.

Dr S. is opening his fertility practice in November and I will be one of his first patients.  Hopefully we are a go for an IUI.  He was going to do one for us a couple of months ago, but the timing was not right and we would have had to run all over town to get things done.  Now it will be one stop shopping.  I feel like this is the right way to go.  He needs this practice to be a success.  He's mortgaged his house on it.  So Jim and I decided what better time to get in with his practice.  He will be highly motivated for us to have a successful pregnancy.  I'm looking forward to it and it absolutely softens the blow of taking a month off.

When we built our house, deep down I always thought that we would need all 4 bedrooms.  One room in particular captivated me.  The bedroom at the front of the house across from our bedroom was just begging to become a nursery.  I imagined the closet with it's little window would become a fort where my child would spend hours playing.  I used to go in that room every morning before going downstairs and starting my day.  Standing in that room I daydreamed about how I would decorate it.  I poured over PotteryBarn Kids catalogs and fought the urge to by a little girl nursery set and a little boy nursery set just to cover my bases.

At some point I stopped going in that room.  There are days that I just close the door to that room.  In my mind it is just a guest room now.  The pink and blue paint chips have been thrown in a drawer and the catalogs and magazines are stacked in the back of a closet.

Is it time to close the door on this chapter?  I truely don't know.  I'm afraid to take a month off from this trying to conceive business.  If we take a break will it be like taking a semester off from college?  Will that be the end of things?  Each month it gets a little harder to find hope.  I once read a saying that went something like this "When the world says give up, it's hope that whispers in your ear 'try again'".  I don't hear that whisper this month.  Maybe I have closed that door to my heart.

What's a girl have to do to get an IUI around here?  It's time to start planning this cycle and deciding on which Dr we want to guide us through this.

The first Dr I went to started out wonderful.  Jim and I both felt comfortable there and loved the straightforward talk from one of his nurses.  They ran every test they could think of to figure out what is going wrong.  It was immediate action, no wasted visits.  I felt my co-pay was well spent.  No waiting for hours in waiting rooms and exam rooms.  I did 3 monitored cycles of Clomid with this Dr and each month he oooh'd and aaah'd over the "beautiful" follicles I was producing.  When the 3rd cycle didn't work I called in to see what the plan was for the next cycle.  I did not get to talk to my favorite nurse, but instead had to talk to the one that seems to get confused.  She said the plan was injectibles with TI (timed intercourse) because I don't ovulate on my own.  Ummmm excuse me?  I do too ovulate on my own.  I've been pregnant twice in the past 6 months all on my own, well with some help from my husband of course.  I was so frustrated with her and trying to conceive that I decided I needed a break.

The break didn't last long when I heard about an OB Gyn who specializes in fertility.  I made an appt.  His credentials are fabulous.  His ability to be on time is not.  We waited for over an hour in the waiting room and then another 40 minutes in his office for a consultation.  When he finally came running in (literally) he barely came up for air.  I had to interrupt to tell him why we were there and what I wanted him to do for us.  He is one of the original docs to work with MTHFR (the blood clotting disorder that I have).  In fact he was interviewed on Discovery Health as an expert about it.  "I'm going to throw the kitchen sink at you."  "I want you on Heparin and possibly progesterone, I want to err on the side of caution".  The thought of injecting myself twice a day with Heparin scared me - more than a little.  Not to mention the expense, it will cost over $100 per month.

The 2nd visit with this doc went better.  Still a very long wait, but this time I had his full attention.  He discovered things in minutes that the other doc never mentioned.  He listened and let me have a say so in my care plan.  However, at that time he didn't not have his fertility practice all under one roof so there would be a lot of running around town just to do an IUI.  We decided to wait until his fertility clinic opens in November.

Another cycle came and went without any success.  November seemed so far away so it was off to doc number 3.  He completely frustrated both Jim and me.  He wants to re-run tests that I just had and am still paying for.  Expensive, painful tests that I showed him the results of.  One I even had the 3D color images from.  He refused to do an ultrasound which is pretty much standard procedure.  Instead he did a manual exam that was very uncomfortable.  When he finished he said "Good news, your tonsils feel great".  I didn't laugh.  We discussed what was next and it did not include making a baby.  It was more tests.  More wasted time.  Bleh.

Another cycle has come and gone.  It's time to take action, but I'm not sure which doc to trust.  I'm a planner and I just don't have a plan for this one.

I spent the first 27ish years of my life in Kansas City. It’s a part of who I am, but this week I think I have proven the old adage that you can never really go home again.

I visited people and places that are so much a part of me and I enjoyed it, but I was also a bit self conscious. When I am in St. Louis people only know the grown up me. When I go home (to KC) I fear that all they see when they look at me are all of my poor choices and groan worthy moments. I am not the confident grown woman that I am in my own home.

Don’t get me wrong, I love visiting family and friends and regret that it’s been so long between visits. The places have changed so much that they don’t feel familiar and comforting. I was driving down a highway that I have logged many miles on and had a sudden moment of panic when I had no idea where I was. What used to be open fields is now filled with shops and apartments.

Jim joined me in KC after his trip and I was so glad to have him there. I was feeling out of sorts and I thought his presence would set things right. Instead I looked at him through my insecure eyes and wondered if I deserved him. When we are in our own home I am very much his equal, but this week my past left me with doubt.

My past is not filled with deep dark seedy secrets, just the normal youthful foolishness. I guess I was just thinking about the choices I made and wonder if I had followed a different path and not wasted so much time would I already have a family of my own. Is it true that I waited too long? Are the struggles of the last year and a half all due to my age?

I hate having regrets and usually don’t allow myself time to get caught up in them. I have come full circle. I can see how the challenges I faced as a child help me in my current job. I understand my kids from the inside out. When I went to college right out of high school I wanted to be a teacher. I never questioned it. I knew with 100% certainty that is what I wanted to be; until I didn’t want to anymore. Something about a classroom full of students didn’t feel right. Now I work for a school district and see kids one-on-one and tailor my time to their specific needs.

How does my time at TWA fit in? I’m not sure yet. Maybe it was just a detour that allowed me to meet my long time dear friend Corinna. How else was I supposed to meet Jim? If I was destined to be his wife then I guess my 10 years at TWA was for a purpose.

I’m glad to be back home and thankful for the flashback of where life has taken me so far. Maybe I am getting better with age.

Being a pilot's wife presents it's own unique set of challenges.  We have to cram our lifes into roughly 15 days a month give or take a day or two.  Planning ahead is just something that I can not do.  Jim has to bid his schedule a month in advance which adds another wrinkle to the baby making plan.

Yet planning seems to be all we do these days.  There are obligations to be met, phone calls to make, and potentially life altering decisions to be made.  All of this can leave very little time to be the couple that we used to be.  Lazy afternoons on the couch watching the Cubs game or just hanging out talking about lighter topics seems to get lost in the shuffle.

Who ever would have thought that some of the best of our time together would have come when we were both laid off.  We had to be creative.  Any boob can buy tickets to a show or plan a night out on the town, but when you are watching every penny you have to really put some thought into things.  That's where Traci's Cafe was born.  Our deck became our restaurant of choice.  I learned to cook and then I began to enjoy cooking.  Jim's job was as grill master and ambiance maker.  He would light candles all around the deck and we would have dinner and drinks out on the deck.  We connected.  We were a fun couple.  We rode bikes together almost every day.  We laughed.  We talked.



What no one tells you when you are struggling to make a baby is that you will have to work harder to stay connected.  My thoughts are almost exclusively about baby making.  What was my temperature today?  Could that have been an implantation dip?  How many days before I can test?  I hear that Jim is talking to me, but sometimes it is so hard to hear what he is saying.  Flaps, slats, air speed, approach into fill in the airport.  I used to gobble these stories up.  Some days I have to work hard to push aside my thoughts and reconnect.

I should have made a road trip to KC yesterday, but Jim had just gotten home after 7 days on the road.  I picked him up at the airport and we went to our former "place"  a restaurant on the way home.  We sat outside and had dinner and drinks.  We were Traci and Jim again.  Just Traci and Jim.  Not the couple who plans dr's appointments and procedures.  It was awesome.

I should have made the road trip today, but we slept in.  It was one of those rare days where we were both home and did not have to be any where at a certain time.  No obligations.  So here I am still at home and planning dinner on the deck.  This weekend we reconnected and it's exactly what I needed.

It's true this past year and a half has been very challenging, but we have found humor in the simplest of things.  We don't have any pets for various reasons, but both love animals.  If I need a dose of puppy love we go to the pet store down the road where the sales people are all too eager to put a sweet puppy in my arms.  Right now I am in love with English Bulldogs.  Just love their little smooshed up faces and bow legs.  Jim thinks they are the ugliest animals on the planet.  Whatever.

Ever since I can remember, I have had a habit giving animals names and personalities.  I renamed Patches, our former neighbor's cat.  JC seemed to suit him better.  JC stands for jungle cat.  Our backyards backed up to a tree line and JC loved to stalk the many small creatures that lurked back there.  I could have spent all afternoon watching that crazy cat.  I missed him when we moved to our new home.  How would I amuse myself now?

It wasn't long before my new "pet" made his appearance.  A plump squirrel that I named Doug.  He reminds me of the character on King of Queens.  Food is his top priority and he is not the most nimble of his species.  Every morning I watch Doug run along the tree line in our backyard.  He throws him self with reckless abandon from tree to tree.  Most of the time he misses the branch he was aiming for and drops a couple of branches before he recovers.  Definately does not operate in stealth mode as you can clearly see the branches drop from his considerable squirrel gerth as he plunks onto them.

This is how I spent my morning yesterday.  I didn't even bother turning on the tv since daytime tv sucks.  I just watched Doug and managed to capture him in a flurry of fall activity.

So I decided to start a blog mainly for myself as a way to get my thoughts together and share the stories of where life takes me.

The past year and a half has been an emotional journey to say the least. There have been incredible highs and gutwrenching lows.

As most of you know Jim and I got married in July of '07 and almost immediately my biological clock started to tick. Well actually it is more of a constant screeching in my ear that drowns out everything else.

After several months of trying it finally happened...two beautiful pink lines. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. I took the test very early in the morning when Jim was still sleeping. I climbed back into bed to wait for him to wake up. He didn't. Maybe a gentle nudge would do the trick. Nope. A sigh. No luck. The thunk on the forehead did the trick and he forced one eye open. Crap the pressure was on. I needed this to be perfect. Something we would remember forever and be able to tell our child some day.

"How are your eyes?" I said. Not quite what I was aiming for but I'll have to run with it now. His reply? A caveman sounding grunt as he turned over. After another round of nudges, sighs, and a thunk to the forehead he managed to ask Why? "I need you to go in the bathroom and look at something and tell me what you think."

I thought for sure that was a dead give away. Apparently not, since he seemed to think I was challenging some bathroom boundaries. He finally went in the bathroom and was there for what seemed like an eternity and came out with a look that can only be described as shock and awe. No words, just a high 5. Unfortunately that pregnancy was not meant to be. We found out at our 8 week ultrasound that there was no heartbeat. Devastated and still naive we moved on.

In December of the same year it happened again. I was beginning to think I would never see two pink lines on a test again. Cautiously optimistic best describes how we felt. The bloodwork came back with fantastic numbers. I needed to be above 2500 and I was at 77,000!!! The Dr said you are very pregnant congratulations. I let my guard down that day. I never thought we would go through the same thing again.

This time we saw a flickering heartbeat on the ultrasound which is supposed to be when you get the thumbs up. The Dr did not like something that he saw and wanted us to come back for another ultrasound in two weeks. I think the look on my face said it all and he said "Okay, next week". The following week the flicker was gone. I knew as soon as the image came up on the screen. The Dr, bless his heart kept trying to find it. I remember he and Jim both talking to me, though I didn't hear a word they said. How can this be?

This is where my favorite phrase first entered my life...Advanced Maternal Age. Which is a fancy way to call a woman old and not get kicked in the teeth.

The following months have been full of tests and a string of doctors - 4 to be exact (doctors that is), 23 vials of blood, 1 hysterosalpingogram and 1 hysteroscopy later I am a very tired and frustrated version of myself.

The only test that came back as a problem was for a hereditary blood clotting disorder called MTHFR or methylenetetrahydrofolate reductase. Which in a nutshell means that I don't process folic acid correctly. So finally we had an answer as to why this keeps happening. You need folic acid to grow a healthy baby. The genetic testing we had done on the last baby showed she had trisomy 16. Not something that is hereditary. Neither Jim nor I passed it on. The baby had an extra copy of the 16th chromosome. Possibly due to my folic acid issues??? The dr's called it bad luck.

After the last miscarriage my body did not return to normal. I waited 101 days for aunt flow to return, definately not normal. I was referred to a Reproductive Endocrinologist who put me on Clomid to get me ovulating again. More on Clomid later. That deserves a whole rant all unto itself. This is where my battle of proving that I ovulate on my own (thank you very much) started. This battle is still going on and we are trying to decide how we want to proceed. Seems that I am no spring chicken and every day that goes by this burden gets a little heavier to carry.

A folic acid problems sounds easy enough to fix - just take a high dose of folic acid and B vitamins and all of my problems will be solved. Well maybe. Seems like each doctor has his own opinion on MTHFR. They range from it's nothing, to me needing to give myself heparin injections twice a day.

Right now we are trying to decide what our next move will be. How to treat the MTHFR and how to make a baby.

That brings you all up to speed. Stay tuned to see where life takes me.