Category Archives: ttc

the upside to infertility 

River is now 22 months, which means 2 is just around the corner.  Problably one of the most reverberated phrases in parenthood is “it goes by so fast!”  I’m guilty of it, at least agreeing with it, but I don’t actually feel that way.  When someone says to me “I can’t believe he’s already (insert age here)!” I say, “I know” because I feel like my true answer of “I can!” sounds like I’m complaining.  

The truth is that I’m not shocked at his age or pace of the advancements he’s making because I’m so present.  I’ve never been more present for anything in my life.  I don’t mean because I’m a SAHM and am physically with him every minute.  I mean because I sop up every moment I have with him like a biscuit in a bowl of soup. (Sorry, I’m hungry)  And I attribute every bit of this to my years battling with infertility and having to accept that I may never be a mother. 

I’m certainly not saying that someone can’t relish every minute with their child without going through infertility, but I know in my case it was a necessary ingredient.  I’m a planner and a worrier, my mind is typically on the future at all times rather than the present.  Living in the moment does not come naturally to me and I constantly have had to work on that in my life.  But as a mother now it’s coming so naturally to me.  I feel like a sponge just soaking it all in and it’s wonderful.  This is how life should be lived. 

I’ve had a total love/hate relationship with the saying “everything happens for a reason.”  As a Buddhist this is the crux of my beliefs, but it if you said it to me while I was going through fertility issues I may have stabbed you with a pencil.  There were times I felt very bitter about what I was going through, and resentful of the fact that there could be no silver lining.  Even on the better days when I held on to hope I would someday get pregnant, my focus was on how every day that passed without getting pregnant was one less day I would get to spend with my child.  What a bummer way to feel.  

If I could rewrite my own story now and get pregnant right when we started trying, I don’t think I would.  In fact, I know I wouldn’t!  Everything I went through in order to have him has made me the mom I am, and I’m really proud of that person.  She’s so different from all the other people I’ve been in my life, and far cooler.  I’m so much more laid back (for me) and find humor in the really crumby parts, like at 2 am when he projectile vomits in a 4 ft radius around himself, the bed, me, the dog, as his head spun around a la The Exorcist.  Or when he threw my entire makeup bag in the toilet.  ūüė¨ MOMMY LOVES YOU. ūüė¨  Even these moments feel like a gift, and I find myself almost giddy about them rather than upset. 

I do feel like the people that have to wait and work hard to finally get their child are just different as parents.  I’m not going to say “better” because that’s RUDE. ūüėČ  But I think we have an easier time finding joy in even the shitty parts.  Some may call us insufferable as we post every burp and toot on instagram, but that’s ok because those people just don’t get it.  It’s ALL exciting when you’ve stared down the barrel of a life without children. 

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What’s in the Box???!


It’s HERE!!! ¬†A little unnerving that the box could double as a quaint condominium for my 2 dumb dogs. ¬†Unpacking it now. ¬†My home is becoming Needle Nation, I’ll need to hang a new flag.

Also, I decided to make an Instagram account for all the IVF stuff. ¬†Follow it, I’ll be happy to share every detail that could possibly help or support anyone out there! ¬†@bb.bux

Also please feel free to follow my regular account too (@KateOrDie) for regular updates on both my one-eyed, and toothless dogs, pictured above!  What more could you want?

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Fertility Tourism


This is a subject that I’ve been fascinated by lately. ¬†I’ll admit I was fantasizing about a London holiday where I would live in a charming cottage for months and receive IVF treatment for $4. ¬†The price of it here in the US is killing me. ¬†It’s so insane. ¬†I also feel a little icky thinking about how some of that cost is probably due to the fact that people dealing with infertility are sometimes so desperate they would pay anything, so companies know they can charge anything. ¬†What do I know factually about how these companies get their pricing? ¬†Zilch-o-la. ¬†But it’s still suspect.

I know that other countries have different laws and I think that makes up the majority of motivation for fertility tourism. ¬†For example, I believe in Canada you can’t pay for donor eggs or sperm? ¬†And in some countries PGD for sex selection is illegal.

Other than cost, we have it pretty good here in the US. ¬†We have some of the best doctors and tend to be the most relaxed with our regulations. ¬†But part of me did want to just look into IVF in a few other countries just for the heck of it. ¬†I couldn’t find much on it. ¬†I’d love to hear anything you ladies know!

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Questions for You IVF Pros! <3

Screen Shot 2014-07-18 at 8.42.31 AM

So the nurse sent me my tentative protocol and I’m having a hard time making heads or tails of it. ¬†I’m wondering if some of you fine ladies might take a look at it for me and help me figure it out? ¬†Does everything look pretty typical? ¬†I was supposed to be traveling to visit my husband who’s gone for a month and a half but I’m assuming that will be a no go. ¬†Were any of you able to travel during the process? ¬†I would be back before my first blood draw and u/s. ¬†

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Last Night

push-button toy

I wasn’t sure if I was going to post about this. ¬†I try as hard as I can not to throw a pity party for myself and mainly focus on finding humor in this situation, with a little side order of being pissed. ¬†That’s typically the recipe I need for survival. ¬†But last night I just broke and could not for the life of me get it together.

I don’t know if it’s the BCP finally kicking in or what. ¬†I mentioned before that the last time I took them they made me insane in the membrane. ¬†But I was more just not myself, not an emotional wreck. ¬†So who knows, maybe I really did hit some sort of breaking point. ¬†I’m feeling a little better today, and I knew I would. ¬†Things are always colored differently by the light of day. ¬†That’s why I didn’t write this last night. ¬†But I was like a moment away from feathering all my hair and swooping it across my forehead, putting on massive amounts of eyeliner, turning on some hair touching band with a whiny dude singer, and writing my lament a’la Lydia Deets.

While I’m glad I didn’t do that, I was reminded last night about how reading other women’s stories made me feel less crazy and less alone. ¬†I guess, according to every person that has ever tried to console me while I was crying, you’re supposed to remember how other people have it worse than you do. ¬†That never worked for me, it only makes me sadder. ¬†The only time anything like that ever works for me is when I am feeling sorry for myself when my husband is on tour, and I make myself remember families out there whose loved ones are in the military, putting themselves in harms way, and then I usually feel so stupid I just laugh at myself. ¬†The most danger my husband is ever in is getting accidentally clipped by the tiny, sweaty elbow of some overzealous teenage stage diver.

But, no, thinking about how other people are sadder/worse off than I am does not tend to make me feel appreciation for what I have. ¬†I feel even further down the hole, like sadness is insurmountable. ¬†I can’t save those people, I can’t even save myself. ¬†The world is a terrible place.

What set me off yesterday was the nurse at my appointment for my MMR vaccine. ¬†No, she wasn’t a bitch. ¬†I fucking WISH. ¬†She was totally warm and sweet, and that is my kryptonite. ¬†When I’m sad or upset, I can be pretty tough. ¬†And when people are terrible to me, I can hold it together and defend myself and be strong, I have no problem with that. ¬†But the second someone shows me real kindness, I turn into one of those tiny push button toys of a horse or giraffe that collapse when you press the bottom. ¬†I crumble.

Of course one of the first things out of her mouth before giving me the shot was, “Any chance you are pregnant?” ¬†I pressed my lips together, and even though I smiled politely as I said “no” it was like she was somehow able to see through it. ¬†She didn’t say anything but smiled back warmly. ¬†“Do you plan on being pregnant any time soon?” ¬†Now I can feel the sensation of water pressure building up behind my face, but I was still holding it together, at least I thought so. ¬†“No.” ¬†Then she said the most terrible thing she could have said to me in that moment. ¬†“Are you ok?”

She said it so sweetly, in the warmest voice, and there was nothing I could do about it at that point. ¬†I cried. ¬†Like ugly face cried. ¬†Then she really went above an beyond, asking me questions and not taking “I’m ok” for an answer. ¬†It took a little bit to get anything out of me because I didn’t want to burden her with it, or make her feel like she needed to continue to be sweet to me. ¬†Like she would feel trapped and be sorry she asked if she really knew what was up. ¬†But she was really wonderful, and talked to me for a good amount of time and offered to let me sit in the room with her until I felt better.

I never really recuperated from that yesterday. ¬†As I was going about my day, I would look down at the band aid on my arm and it would all come back to me. ¬†I even did my very best to focus on whatever I could that was shallow. ¬†I turned on my go-to antidote for all things feelings, Bravo TV. ¬†But none of my familiar beloved sociopathic housewives were available to hang out. ¬†It didn’t matter, there was some show on about money grubbing realtors in Miami and I thought “perfect.” ¬†Halfway through the episode, the sort of deadpan Jewish American Princess with the personality of a dial tone took her dog in for a teeth cleaning and it fucking DIED. ¬†I lost it. ¬†Why Bravo, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME!?

I turned off the TV, pulled it together, and tried to focus on something else. ¬†I have been asked to speak at a meeting of the Buddhist organization I belong to this Sunday. ¬†I wanted to work on what I was going to say. I was really hoping I would have something inspirational to share at this point, and I just don’t. ¬†At that point balloons and confetti dropped from the ceiling and Lionel Richie played over the speakers, this pity party was in full swing.

I guess I try to fight it too much. ¬†I don’t WANT to be sad about this. ¬†And I know I shouldn’t be, things could be much, much worse. ¬†But am I going to be am mom?? ¬†I seriously need to know. ¬†Cool I have my health, and a great husband, and lots to be happy about. ¬†But is it ok for me to actually admit I might trade every bit of that for a baby? ¬†I mean, that’s kind of messed up, right? There’s something to feeling sad when you know you shouldn’t be. ¬†It would be one thing if something horrendous had happened to me. ¬†Then I could cry and grieve and let it all out. ¬†I almost feel like I’m not allowed to be sad right now, but I am, so it’s really messing with me. ¬†I don’t want to burden my husband, family or friends with it. ¬†Everyone has their own stuff going on. ¬†And honestly there’s really nothing they can say or do about it anyway. ¬†So I cried. ¬†Hard. ¬†Like violently vomiting up sobs. ¬†And my body oscillated ¬†through numbness and then stabbing pain, and then numbness again, over and over. ¬†But I think I just needed that. ¬†I feel better today, I do. ¬†I think I may have exorcised the demons, at least for right now.


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