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.