Our Story

It's been months. Literally. And while I have a list of verifiable reasons for abandoning this place, none of them are good enough. Here's why.

I started this blog for myself. I like to write. It's my way of "dealing" so to speak. When hard times roll, I write. When there is cause for celebration, I write. When I'm just feeling ...bleh...I write. It's what I do. But here's the thing friends. I've been dealt a new hand in the past few months, and I have avoided writing about it.

Why? Well, I guess because if I write about it, that means I am dealing with it. And if I am dealing with it, that means I am accepting it. And accepting it, well, that means it is really happening.

Weird how that works isn't it?

So here I am...writing about it, so that I can deal with it, in hopes that I will accept what is happening in my life right now.

The hubby and I are approaching three years of marriage in less than two weeks. 12 days to be exact.  Seems like a long time but, three years comes in the blink of an eye, let me tell ya. And seeing how fast 3 years can come and go, makes four years seems not so far away. Why does 4 years matter? Here's why.

I have approximately four years (six if we are lucky) to have happy and healthy babies, so says my internal clock. That's it folks. That's not bad right? I mean, 4 years is a lot of time to crank out some kids. True. For most people. Not for us. At least not without the help of some talented doctors and lots of prayers.

Yep. Those stories you hear about people struggling to have kids....you know...infertility stories...that's whAt you're reading right now. And it is ours. Some of what you will read is personal,which plays largely in why I haven't written it. Let's be sensitive shall we? Thanks.

In May, the husby and I made a conscious decision to pursue parenthood. We knew something wasn't right and approached my general gynecologist who is a very brilliant and trusted man. He conclud that further tests needed to be done and referred me to a fertility specialist. Fast forward to July.

We met with the the fertility specialist and he explained possible problems for our "unexplained infertility". Topics of conversation were...

1. Possible hormone imbalance (me)

2. Possible uterine anomalies (me)

3. Sperm count (husby)

4. Chemo side effects (me)

The list went on and on and the doc ordered tests to cover all the bases. But, he also wanted to get a start on some possible solutions, so we ordered our first round of fertility medications (none of which were or ever will be covered by our insurance). I think we left that first appointment in a bit of a fog. I cried. A lot. I felt like (justified or not) that a piece of my womanhood had been snatched from beneath me. I felt guilty for putting such an amazing man as my husband in such a predicament. I was heartbroken and angry. And I stayed that way for awhile.

The tests were less than enjoyable for me. Particularly the HsG X-ray. People, I've had cancer. I've had 6 surgeries. Nothing compares to those 10 minutes during that X-ray. I mean, wow. But, it is the test that answered the question. I have a rare uterus. I don't know how else to explain it. I'm one in every (insert super large number here) women who have this condition. The bad news is, only one side of my uterus is functioning. The good news is, we can still have babies!! Twins even! 

I want to talk about this diagnosis real quick. Now, it's not every day you hear you have a super rare condition that most people have never or will never hear of. Well, this has now happened to me twice in 26 years. So. There. But here's the thing, I think my previous cancer diagnosis prepared me for this. Because it wasn't some life altering shock. It was just, an answer to the question we were looking for. #everythinghappensforareason

We pushed forward and continued with the first round of treatment. 2 weeks of waiting to see if it "worked" AKA, "So...are we pregnant?". And the answer was "no".

Heartbreak. Anger. Guilt.Sadness. Discouragement.

After some more tears, my husband soothed my troubled heart and reminded me that hope is not lost. He encouraged me to move forward instead of standing still. Seeing his hope and faith reminded me that our babies are waiting, and I can't give up after one measly little try.

Plan B. Nerves. Courage. Faith. Hope. Excitement. 

So now we are on round two. And today was the day that sets the waiting game into motion. And I told myself I wouldn't get excited, just in case it doesn't work. But then, as we waited in the room, I couldn't help but be excited. Because this is exciting. Even if it fails. It's another step in the direction to building our forever family. And with my husband by my side, cracking jokes and holding my hand, I couldn't help but feel hopeful. I am a realist by nature and while I know that the odds are stacked against us, I also know that miracles happen every day. And what's more miraculous than a baby?

With Fingers Crossed,
Mo