As if you didn't know this post was coming...

Kim Kardashian is pregnant. 

Entertainment media has gone insane with: Kim K takes her fetus to the gym, Kim K's maternity style, Kim K-will she be a good mother? 

I couldn't be pissy-er about it. IT being the fact that I'm still childless, but "kimye" reproduces & the stupidity of our nations fascination with a chick who's famous for nothing but having a big ass. It's annoying .

Mostly though, I'm heartbroken for that innocent baby that will be born into a life of endless publicity & criticism. Will the baby even feel true love from its media whore parents, or will her team of nannies be her source of  all things parental?

Duh, obviously God has a plan for every single person & that nothing ever really makes sense to a simple person like me but, why does that sweet baby get gifted to those parents? Why is the plan for Chris & I  to be to suffer childlessly? (& her sister Khloe)

As I rant about others having babies, I also weep in joy for my soon to be new niece, for the kindness of a surrogate for Giuliana Rancic, & two of my best friends that are expecting. I'm so happy for them, but my wounded heart won't allow me to enjoy their bellies like I want, my defense is in distance & knowing as few details as possible. The Kardashian pregnancy is being force fed to us all by our media, I have no control over how much I see since its treated as breaking news on tv, facebook, & at the grocery checkout. Please, please, please make a fool of me Kim & Kanye, love that baby more than yourself(which is ALOT) & know how incredibly blessed you are.

The Darkness

I feel absent from my own life lately.

While there are some great things going on, I feel as if I'm surrounded by dark shadows.

I mean this not in my "normal" emotional, pessimistic way but, deeper. Darker. Some of it may be related to winter seasonal depression or junk I shall not talk about but, I know that the majority of it lays within our struggle to have a baby. December marks THREE years of infertility & miscarriage, December 31will be the day that I should have been giving birth to our second firstborn. Mourning babies lost has been a difficult experience, the moments of grief are unfulfilling, fleeting, & inconsistent. I want a gut wrenching sobfest to spew out at least some of the pain. Instead it sneaks up on me at the grocery store in the checkout line, during a toast to the newlyweds, as I perform my job duties, & of course, the stupid baby commercials on tv.
I think of my babies every single day but, I want to accomplish some sort of recovery from their loss & the ongoing inability to get/stay pregnant. I want to be able to dig my way out & carry on. But our options of "carrying on" such as IVF, adoption, & surrogacy all come with a high monetary price, & where will that money ever come from? Insurance only covers oral or injectible fertility medication, anything beyond that is our problem. We have hit a brick wall & I'm consumed by it, hence, I'm absent from the rest of my life. Knowing that we are meant to be parents but not having a sweet baby to love is like that itching feeling that you've forgotten something that makes it hard to focus on anything else & it'll drive you crazy until you finally figure it out. I am wholly consumed & in love with babies that I haven't met, I'm just not me without them.
Some of you may read this & think that we just need to move on, it's not meant to be, or that your "words of wisdom" will help us to to get over it. If this is you: please stop reading, go away, & never state your opinion to me. You haven't walked in these shoes. You'll hopefully never know the feeling of failure to give the man that you love a child that he also so desperately wants, the anger towards your own body, bitterness towards society for treating infertility like a dark secret, or fear that no one will pick you from others just like you to raise her baby. Instead, you can pray for this: fertility & strong uterus that bears a healthy baby, or a birth mother who desires that Chris & I give her baby a life in our arms & hearts.

Dr. Drama

I hate to admit that I am a Drama Queen. Honestly, everyone is-in their own way.

Thankfully in this instance I did not create it, but it existed around me, was directed at me & I got too emotionally involved & invested in it (as usual).

I was already feeling emotionally drained by living in a new, unfamiliar city, and feeling isolated & alone when the soap opera of my most recent job began. I left my hometown, moved away from my family & friends, & sold my house for a "too good to be true" job in FtW.

I belive the stress of the job contributed to my miscarriage, I left or lost so much for the sake of that job & am quite possibly clinically depressed again over every little bit of it.

There were many incidents commited by my boss (lets call him Dr. Drama) that I saw as unethical, actions of poor judgement, & downright ridiculous. Very quickly he saw where I stood ethically & he retaliated. He used my miscarriage as a mindgame & a weapon against me. Payroll was hardly ever on time.

The vast amount of stress that was produced in that job had me drowning in drama & gasping for air.

Once I began having chestpain at work, I knew I couldn't take it any longer.

So, I QUIT! But I only had partial relief. He still owed me my last paycheck, and he was still treating my coworker & the patients horribly. I felt so guilty for leaving them to face him alone. I'm having a hard time distancing myself & letting the assistant fight her own fight, I want to take care of everyone & make it all okay.

In a way I envy everyone in the past that has been able to shrug him off & cut their losses. But at the same time this has me questioning, if we all do that will he ever cease to abuse the title of doctor? Is it my place to stand up for what is right? Can I be the one to scream out "STOP"?  I believe so, because it only takes one person to jumpstart change, even if you stand alone, fight for what is right, be the vocal advocate of ethical standards.

I am so ready to be completly done with Dr. Drama so that no longer he plays a part in my life, he has an unwelcome hold on me. I want  to be emotionally invested in other things, happy things.
Thankfully the day after I quit, God provided me with a wonderful job that I start on Monday. Here's to yet another new chapter.....

bday

Today is my 31st birthday.

I woke up with a nice zit.

The End.

Autopilot

There have been a few days have nearly destroyed me, I really wonder how I've made it through them.

The worst day was the one of the ultrasound appointment that confirmed our fears. We were waiting in the exam room to discuss everything with the doctor, the walls were paper thin. I heard him enter the room next to us & converse with his patient about her progressing pregnancy, then I heard the loud, strong heartbeat of her baby on the dopplar. I jammed my fingers in my ears to drown out the sound, but I could still hear it over my own sobs. My sweet husband draped his body over mine & held me as I lay on the exam table in the fetal position while all my pain spewed out. 

Less than one week later, my only coworker blurted out, "Aubrey, I'm pregnant". She commented on & inquired about her new pregnancy all day. I felt like I was bleeding out emotionally. She fretted about telling our boss, but he had to know since it would immediately affect her abilities to perform certain tasks. I approached him with her news for her, to be able to stop discussing it. He replied, "what about you?" with a cold tone, not caring about anything other than having someone be able to take his xrays for him. A week before I'd already told him I was pregnant & then a few days later that I might be micarrying, not once did he ever ask if I was okay, just "what about YOU?" to ensure that he wouldn't have to do the task himself.  There have been several other insensitive comments that he's made, he was supposed to be a dear friend to my husband. 

Sadly, it has taken me nearly two years to be able to see a baby or a pregnant woman without a surge of pain bubbling up, I hate that I'm close to being back to that point again. Thankfully though, this miscarriage has been both physically & emotionally eaisier on me than the last. It still hurts my heart just as much, but I feel more prepared for the pain than the last time.

But, everyday includes moments that make me think of my two little babies that I'll never know & my heart breaks a little more. I hope more than anything that my father Bo has one in each arm & shows them the love that wish I could.

Two Pink Lines

Two pink lines.

Surprised, cry, hyperventilate, quickly beg "dear God, let me keep this one".

Buy stuffed bunny & My Dad Loves Me book. 

Happy.

Daydream & plan our future together as a family of three.

Labwork. Phone call from Dr. Z, low progesterone, draw more blood.  

Phone call, further decreased progesterone.

Terrified.

Cramping, bleeding, back pain, tissue & blood clots.

Sonogram, "no longer any evidence of a viable pregnancy".

Numb.

Broken.

Again.

February.

Oh my word. This month has been so overwhelming.
We sold our house after the first showing(hallelujaurrr)but, doing so required me to pack, move, & close in 3 weeks-it was crazy. We were walking out of the house as the new owner was walking in, there was not a moment to spare.
We have found a fantastic house in FtW, unfortunately it is in probate & will take awhile to close, so in the meantime I am staying with my parents, our stuff sits in THREE storage units, and having quit my job to pack-I don't have much to do. Finally. I can do things like: give the dogs haircuts, request medical records, paint Mom's bedroom furniture. The free time is great, but while we wait for our new house we are on a single income. My job in FtW is sitting, waiting, I'm nervous & edgy.
This week also marks two years since I miscarried & have battled infertility. Two years. I had suddenly realized that I am that girl, the one that can't have babies. Everybody knows one, it's me, 1 in 4. That shit is hard to swallow.