The One with OAD NBC

Or alternatively titled: The One with the Very Long Acronym.

Side note - Liam's 15 month post is coming.  We go for his check-up on Monday, so I am waiting for official stats before I publish the monthly update.

Okay, back to the acronym.

OAD = One And Done

NBC = Not By Choice

So, in essence, it means only having one child but not because that's how you want it to be.

In case you didn't pick up the news yet, frobaby did not implant.  It did not think my uterus was a fun place to hang out for nine (ten) months and I am therefore completely and totally not pregnant.

My beta was yesterday morning (huge bruise from the blood draw obviously) and the nurse called in the afternoon with the news.  It was not a shocker to be honest.

I had been spotting since late last week and had that "my period is coming any second now" feeling (despite the fact that the huge needles were supposed to stop that from happening).  I didn't feel the "twinges" I had with Liam and something in me really just knew I wasn't pregnant.  Didn't make hearing the "unfortunately, you are not pregnant" news any easier, just expected.

Hubs and I agreed before this FET that if it didn't work, we weren't going to do another fresh cycle.  We are getting to the point where we are paying off some large debts that we have incurred over the years and while our insurance covers a whole lot of the costs with IVF, we still have a large co-pay.  Plus, the emotional and physical tolls associated with another fresh cycle are huge and I'm just not sure I can handle it.  On top of that, there's no guarantee it would work.  We were ridiculously lucky to get pregnant on our first IVF cycle and I don't know if it would happen on the first try again.

So, we are a one child family.  I would be completely full of shit if I said I wasn't disappointed about that.  I want Liam to have a (non furry) sibling.  I want him to grow up with another kid around.  I want him to have someone after we are gone (I know that's morbid but it's one of my thoughts).

I am still dealing with the emotional repercussions of this.  I never get to be pregnant again.  I never get to watch a baby dance inside me on an ultrasound machine again.  I never get to feel those amazing kicks and jabs again.  I never get to feel like freaking Super Woman for giving birth to a baby with no meds again.  I never get to experience the newborn smell again.  I never get to use all those teeny tiny clothes again.

I love Liam with every ounce of my being and as I sit here typing with the video monitor next to me watching him toss and turn in his crib because another damn tooth is coming in and tears streaming down my cheeks, I know in my heart that he (and Hubs and Max) are enough.  I know that we are a happy family with an exorbitant amount of blessings.  I know that God made me that little boy's mother to teach me about unconditional love and how infinite that love can be.

But right now, I also know that I am sad and this completely sucks.

The One with the Poem

I saw this a while ago and tucked it away for a day when I'd like to share it.

Today is that day.


Thoughts on Becoming a Mother

There are women that 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 that 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 that my friends will not see. 

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 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 and when life is beyond hard.  I have learned a compassion that only comes with walking in those shoes. 

I have learned to appreciate life. 

Yes I will be a wonderful mother.


~Author Unknown~


Today is beta day.  I won't be sharing the results on here for a while so we can process whatever the result is.  Prayers are unbelievably appreciated.

The One with the Negativeness

I won't lie.  

The last few days have been tough.

I am constantly doubting the success of this cycle.  I am already planning ahead for when we can do this again. I am a complete basket case of emotions (Hubs and I got into a fight the other day about parking and frozen yogurt.  Yes, I am probably losing my mind).  And we still have several days before the beta.  If I make it with my sanity intact, it's going to be a freakin miracle!

IVF is a complete mind fuck.  You do these unbelievable things to your body to prepare it to shoot out eggs like a flippin hen.  You cross your fingers that somehow the strong swimmers decide to play Parcheesi* with said eggs.  You entrust your future children to someone in a lab for the first few days of their lives.  You have more fun stuff shoved up your hoo-hah to put those babies back in your body where you pray like crazy they will stick to your hopefully thick lining. And then you wait.  And you wait some more.  All the while you take awesome drugs that give you every pregnancy symptom known to man.  Because it's hard enough to convince yourself not to get your hopes up without cramps, fatigue, bloating, and sore boobs.  Mind fuck.

And to top that all off, I opened the coupons on Sunday and found this...

Because my urge to pee on a stick wasn't already driving me over the edge.  Now you want to entice me with your money saving endeavors, ClearBlue Easy.

Then I went to Target today...

And found my embryos in the dollar section.

Anywho, I'm nuts.  My hormones are in overdrive.  And I almost burst into tears at the zoo because the not-a-day-over-21-years-old chick near the bears had two kids calling her mommy.

Hoping for more a more positive post tomorrow.

*The Parcheesi reference is a shout out to a certain cousin of mine who used to claim she was playing this particular game with the neighbor on all those late night booty call visits when we were in college.