Great news! AND a whole new set of worries...

It's been three weeks since I last posted. In the last post I was one day away from my initial test.  And the results were the best I could have hoped for...

So here I am three weeks later and I'll be honest, I've been afraid to post anything these last few weeks in the fear that I'll jinx things. But I sit here writing today because we finally got to go in for the first ultrasound.

I have never been so nervous in my life. The doc, who knows our history, was immediately on the same page with us and totally got why we were not the normal, smiley couple, but instead the couple who looked like they were about to lose their lunch!

And then we saw...for the first time in this pregnancy...and yes, there was a heartbeat. Well, not one actually but three heartbeats! A bit of a shock but so happy to see that so far, it's all looking good!

One of the heartbeats was 113bps, the other was 140bps, and the third was 87bps.  The doc didn't sound too optimistic about the third one, as that heartbeat is pretty slow, but to be honest, we'll be thrilled if just one sticks!

I am hoping beyond hope that we finally get our take-home baby this time around.  And maybe, just maybe, we'll get lucky and have two or three take-home-babies. But, don't get me wrong, I don't want to sound greedy or anything. All we really want is just one healthy, happy baby. That's all we've ever wanted and I just pray that luck and the powers that be will finally allow us this good fortune.

We go back to the doc next week to see if things are still looking okay.  I am already nervous but am also hopeful for the first time in a long time!

Tic Toc Tic Toc...

Day 12.  Either I am or I'm not. Only time will tell.

The TWW is now coming to a close and I'm feeling a whole mix of emotions.  Part of me desperately wants to test right away and just know already. The other part of me wants to wait, just in case it turns out to be a no-go this month. I'm just not ready for that --not yet anyway.

This journey has been a tough one and I just want to make it to the next phase. I keep hoping that maybe, just maybe, this will be the month. But then I remember that the odds are against me. Damn stats! Sometimes I'm amazed that anyone is able to get pregnant, much less someone who isn't even trying (I really dislike those people by the way).

I know the world isn't fair, especially when it comes to this whole TTC thing.

I read other women's stories - women who have experienced the same disappointments and heartbreak I have (or worse) - and it just boggles my mind how many others are going through these same feelings. Most of us wanting to scream at the top of our lungs, WHY? We're good people, doing everything right, WHY NOT US???

As comforting as it is to know that I'm not alone in this journey, it breaks my heart that so many other women have had to or are going through this same seemingly never-ending cycle of TWWs.

I will test tomorrow, on day 13, and we'll see what happens. I have a blood test on Monday to confirm one way or the other, but I figure if I'm going to get bad news, I'd rather have that happen in the comfort and privacy of my own home than through a phone call at work.

I am still hopeful for the good news. But I know that it could really go either way, so I'm prepared for the tears and the once again sinking feeling in my heart.

It's weird, as I get closer and closer to day 14, the fresh hope that I had at the beginning of this TWW has slowly seemed to dissipate. Maybe it's my body's defense mechanism, preparing me for the worst so that if it does happen that way, I won't completely fall apart? Yea, good luck with that.

Positive thoughts for now though. Still dreaming of our baby #1. Still hoping. That's gotta count for something.

An Active Mind

6 DPO. During this two-week-wait, I have nothing new to report, only to say that as the days slowly start ticking away, I find myself thinking a lot about pretty much everything.

Like, how I will feel if I find out I'm not pregnant at the end of the TWW - can I keep myself from being too terribly sad and going into a week-long "funk", yet again? Can I figure out a way to be positive and hopeful again?

Or, how I will I feel if I find out I am pregnant - will I start worrying about all that can still go wrong, or will I be able to bask, just for a moment, in the pure happiness of the news? Will I tell anyone about the good news, for fear that it won't last like the last time?

Then, I try to focus on anything and everything not related to this time-stopping TWW. And that's when my mind moves to random thoughts about my past and considerations on how I can still figure out a way to productively cope with the news, regardless of the outcome eight days from now, keeping an active mind on life in general and not just on the all encompassing TTC life.

You see, before I started this whole TTC business I used to define myself through running. It was what made me feel good, inside and out. It gave me a competitive spirit I never knew I had and introduced me to some of my closest friends today.

To date, I have run 10 marathons, with many of them setting new personal records. I LOVED everything about running - how I would feel at the end of a 20-mile training run, tired but in such a good way, how happy I'd be when I hit my times right on the mark during a quality run, etc.

Before I became a runner, I was in a pretty bad place. Dating someone for WAY too long (7 years with no proposal in sight, not typically a good thing) who brought out the worst in me and was just, bottom-line, not my Mr. Right; in a career path that wasn't going anywhere, neither financially nor spiritually, drinking and smoking too much, and about 20 lbs overweight.

Once the break-up happened though, I lost a lot of weight (thank you depression) and had a friend suggest that we train for a marathon together. I had run a couple of 1/2 marathons before, but a full marathon?  Well, that just seemed crazy.

Of course, with all the new free time I had,  I decided to give it a shot. It was either that or continue along the dangerous path of drinking/smoking way too much, which was leading nowhere. Thankfully, once I made the decision to run the marathon, that part of my life quickly disappeared.

As it turns out, I was pretty good at the running thing and after my first marathon decided to join a running group that met three times a week. The rest is history.

Quite simply, running became a huge part of my life. I met my closest friends through the group and was running up to 60 miles a week, with new marathons and new goal times in mind every six months or so.

It was also one of the things that attracted my husband, John, to me right away. He loved how competitive I was (he being a competitive mountain biker himself) and how hard I worked for those fast finish times (and age-group wins).

Fast forward to today. In the beginning of our TTC days, I was told to keep my mileage under 50 miles a week. Then, after the two miscarriages I was told that even 40 miles a week was too much.

Now, with my new doc, I'm under strict orders to keep my running to a maximum of 4 days at 45 minutes to an hour each. Even in my fastest running days that would equal to less than 30 miles a week.

If you're not a runner, you probably have a hard time understanding how difficult these restrictions have been for me. Running used to make me feel whole and fit and able to take on the world. Without it, or at least without the competitive, hard-core nature of it, it's been difficult for me to maintain that positive self-outlook I once had or even have the motivation to keep running.

I think if I had been able to get pregnant and hold onto the baby one of those first two times, I would feel differently, it would have felt all worth it in the end. But right now, still not knowing if this will be the month, it's hard to keep that pure end goal top-of-mind.

With each new hopeful day there seems to be a looming disappointment waiting to happen, which just becomes trying over time.

I will say though that today, out of all days this month, I feel better and stronger than I have in a long time. This morning I went on one of my four runs this week and it just felt darn good to be out there running - regardless of the mileage or the speed.

My new goal, and new perspective moving forward, is to stay healthy, keep strong, exercise consistently and know that no matter what, in the end, we WILL have our baby #1.  It WILL happen for us and our best year is just ahead.

As my husband tells me almost daily, I'm training for a new race, the most important one of our lives, and after we get past all of that, and have our little family intact, my fastest running days are there for the taking.

So, to close this post, I will share the good fortune I received with my Chinese take-out on Friday, a fortune that I can only believe means good things are just ahead.

TWW

The two-week-wait. And, so it begins.  It's funny, in the real world, the world that exists outside of TTC that is, I'm always amazed at how quickly time flies by. The months just seem to disappear, one after the other, and before I know it, POOF, we're into a new season. That's the real world.

But, in the TTC existence that I live in currently, the 14-day, TWW is excruciatingly long, with day 14 seemingly so far away in the distance.

Of course, the two-week-wait is also a time full of anxiety, hoping against hope that your AF doesn't suddenly appear, either five days early (like my first round with injectables), right on time, or even one or two days late.

It's also a time you search for ANY possible symptom that could somehow be related to an early pregnancy. Sore boobs, sensitivity to smell, very light spotting around day 7-8, which could indicate implantation, etc., etc. No need to go on, I think it's clear, I know WAY too much about this stuff!

I often ask myself, "why can't I be one of those women who has absolutely no idea that she's pregnant?" You know the woman I'm talking about -- she continues with her day-to-day routines, oblivious of her slowly changing body, until one day she realizes she doesn't feel quite right and then it finally dawns on her that she's actually three weeks "late".  What I wouldn't give to be in that place!

The funny thing is, once I started with this whole TTC business,  suddenly, out of the blue, this very thing happened to two good friends of mine. And while I was very happy for them (deep, deep, DEEP down inside), it's been so difficult being on the other end of that.

And,  it's those very people who have said things to me (with best intentions of course) that has really made me realize how they, along with most others, just have NO idea what I' m going through and how I'm feeling. Here are just two examples:

1. "You know, you really shouldn't try so hard. If you just relax a little and not think about it, it'll just happen." Seriously? I mean, come on, if there was any way I could get this brain of mine to stop thinking so much about all of this, I would do it in a heartbeat. I'm not sure what magic pill they think I can take to shut things down in there, but if there is one, I want it!
2. "Have you thought about adoption?" Now, while I have the utmost respect for anyone who adopts a child and would definitely consider it for myself in the future if it really comes to that, this is one of the last things I want to hear right now. Not only because I'm in a place where I think it would be amazing to have my own little kiddo that's part me and part my husband, but also because it makes me realize I'm not the only one who's losing hope that I'll be able to conceive and hold onto a healthy pregnancy, others feel that way too. We're just not quite there yet and it's NOT what I need to hear as I'm continuing along this current venture. 

I know these comments are said with love and best intentions in mind, but I must admit, it's hard to hear words of advice like that when I know the people uttering them just can't understand.

So, I start this two-week-wait on my own (and with the support of some wonderful on-line TTC friends) and will wait it out with all the patience and sanity that I can muster.   

I go back to the doc tomorrow for my final appointment in this cycle, for a quick ultrasound to see what eggs released and confirm that I did in fact ovulate as expected. Here's hoping for good news then and additional good news in the very near future!

Next Steps

Well, my week-and-a-half of injectables has now come to a close and, thanks to my patient and willing husband, I was able to get through the process practically pain-free. Once the self-administered intramuscular injections into the upper thighs stopped and John took over, it became a lot easier.

Of course, the last thing I wanted was for this whole process to interfere with other areas of our life, specifically our intimacy with one another. But, I'm not sure I was completely successful on that end.

As much as I hate to admit it, I really needed John's help over the last week-and-a-half, as those self-administered IM injections were becoming pretty traumatic for me over time and my walking abilities 24-hours post-injection, had become ridiculously limited due to extremely sore muscles.

If only I had figured out a way to master those self-injections into my back hip/buttocks area on my own, which would have, at the very least, kept the un-sexiness of this whole process a bit more out of John's view.

Sadly though, my lack of balance and coordination prevented that from happening. So, John, the sweet man that he is, came through for me, willing to assist wherever he could.

I would be lying though if I said I didn't feel quite a bit less sexy in front of my husband these days. Crazy, huh? This whole baby-making thing is supposed to be a fun, alluring, intimate experience with the man you love most. With all the love-making required to make this baby, how could it not be?

Well, let's just say when your husband's nightly ritual includes sticking you with a needle in the buttocks area (at a 90-degree angle and in a dart-like fashion of course), he just doesn't seem to be much in the "mood" afterwards.  And neither do you for that matter.

Now, don't get me wrong, John and I are both definitely keeping our eyes on the prize, knowing, if we end up pregnant and everything goes well this time around, it will all be worth it in the end.

It's just jarring sometimes to realize that these are the steps we're now taking to get to that place. All of our naivety from last year, thinking everything would happen easily, without any mishaps, completely gone, with too many realities, statistics, and uncertainties now in its place .

I'll be honest, I'm tired. The last year-and-a-half has been utterly exhausting in this venture to have kiddo #1.

I know I should be excited that we're in that next phase where we may find out we're pregnant in just a couple of weeks (first IUI completed today, next IUI tomorrow afternoon), but the uncertainty of it all cautions me not to dare hope, only to be disappointed yet again.

And, I know I shouldn't complain, There are a lot of women out there who have been trying for much longer than I have and who have had many more disappointments along the way. But, sometimes it's hard to control my emotions,  especially with all of these silly hormones flying through my body right now, getting in the way.

I will end this entry by saying that I AM hopeful that this time it'll all work out. But, I am not the one who controls this destiny. It is now out of my hands, and for me that's the hardest thing of all.  Only time will tell, but here's to happy news to come...

Inectables - Round 2!

Sometimes I can't help but wonder -- how in the world did I end up in this place?

I mean, seriously, here's how I figured all of this would go:

1) Get off the pill

2) Have sex A LOT with fabulous husband
3) Get pregnant 

BOOM -BAM, that was my plan in its entirety. A baby shower would then follow and soon after that, well,  a healthy, adorable little baby of course. Easy-peasy, right? 

Ummm...no, not so much. Of course, it does work that way for some people, and lately it's felt like it's worked that way for everyone BUT me (insert moment of feeling sorry for myself here).

Even so, it''s just so weird to know that all of this fertility stuff I've heard and read about OTHER people dealing with, is happening to me in the here and now.

Last week, on cycle day 3, I started round 2 of injectables. Luckily, my new doc was willing to let me use up the current medications I have on hand, to help with the overall expense.

So, this month I have a lovely  mix of Lepori, Bravelle, and Follistim.  Talk about a FUN night with hubby -- sorting out three separate ways of preparing, mixing and administering the injections. Can anyone say, DATE NIGHT?

Least favorite medication - Lepori, mainly because it's an intramuscular injection versus subcutaneous. John, the saint that he is, has been helping me get all the meds ready to go, but rightfully so, hasn't been too keen on actually being the one to administer the injections.

So, the first two nights I was on my own and injected the meds into alternating thighs, with much trepidation of course (yes, I'm a big baby and never could quite figure out how to confidently inject in my hip area).

But, after seeing me on day three, hobbling pathetically around the house, sore legs and all (thighs were NOT happy with what I had been doing to them), John finally relented and started administering the meds as well.

Not very sexy I know, but being pain-free on day five makes it all okay -- well, for me at least, I can't necessarily say the same thing for John, who may have turned green a couple of times, immediately post-injection (poor guy!).

Playing with this mix of meds though has quickly made me a big fan of subcutaneous medications, and an even bigger fan of injector pens. I guess that's the benefit of starting off initially (first stint with injectables two months ago) with the cheaper, intramuscular drug - you totally appreciate how much more awesome the subcutaneous meds can be!

Which brings us to today, cycle day 7, complete with sonogram. So far so good. At this point, it looks like my body is responding well to the meds. Multiple follicles ranging from 11mm to 6mm.  Next step? Ramp down on the dose levels for the next two days and then back to the doc on Wednesday for another look-see.

It's amazing how routine all of this is becoming. Good times! And, all for the greater good... 

Sunday Blues

Sometimes I can't help but think, wouldn't life be so much simpler if I didn't want to have a baby? If that were the reality, I could be training for my next best time at a marathon right now and John and I could be planning all sorts of exciting, upcoming worldwide trips. 

I miss running like I used to, a lot. I used to get such a thrill running fast, partly because I was really good at it and partly because it was such an awesome adrenaline rush. 

With running, I felt fit, strong, challenged, and IN CONTROL. Now, running only 25-35 miles a week (and SLOW miles at that), I feel soft, out-of-shape, and just not myself. For me, I think the worst thing about the challenges I've faced in the TTC-world has been NOT being the one in control. Instead, I'm completely, 100% at the mercy of my body. Whatever my body decides (with no input from me), I have to abide by and accept. And, with my personality, type A and a definite planner, it is not a good fit at all. 

So, on days like this one when I start feeling a little sad and out-of-sorts, I try to remember all the good I have in my life - a wonderful husband, an awesomely cool dog, a beautiful home, and great friends and family. This is what I have to remind myself of on days like today, because at the end of the day, I really am one lucky gal. 

Another Doctor's Visit

Earlier this week, I had my first visit with a new RE. For the last year-and-a-half, I have just been seeing my regular OB, which was fine when we first started TTC, but after two miscarriages, one surgery, and an unsuccessful round of injectables, I thought it was time to start fresh with someone new. 

And, to be completely honest, I really wanted to go to a doctor's office where I actually saw the doc. While I've been happy overall with my current OB and his nursing staff, I started getting tired of being tossed back and forth between different staff members and having to re-explain my history over and over again. And, besides, they're used to seeing happy, healthy pregnant ladies, not women like me that come with all sorts of baggage. 

So off to a new start!

John and I met with the doc and really liked him a lot. He didn't sugar-coat anything but instead just told it how it is -- which pretty much boils down to old eggs and a fast-running clock.  I was also reminded that I was not 40 but 40-and-a-half.  I don't remember adding a half to my age since I was child, and while it was a happy memory then, it's not such a happy new memory now. Bottom-line though, we really like the new doc and feel he might be able to help us out in the long run.

So, that's the good news. The bad news it that my insurance doesn't pay for any of this.  I kind of knew that going in, but hadn't really added it all up until after that initial consultation. And boy, does it ADD up. 

But, I think we're going to give it a shot this next month -- another round of injectables -- to see how it goes. After that, we might have to take some time "off". Mostly for our overall sanity. It's amazing how quickly all of this fertility stuff can take up every single inch of brain space, leaving little room for much else.  

Never in a million years did I think I would spend so much time focused on this one thing, my mind constantly on the move with thoughts like - Will I ovulate? Am I ovulating? Is that slight cramp ovulation pain? Implantation pain? Or, an early pregnancy symptom? Are my boobs sore because I'm pregnant? Or, are they sore because I'm about to start my period? Am I about to "start"? Every positive thought countered with a corresponding negative one. It can literally drive you insane! If only I could use all of that brain space in a productive manner. So much would I accomplish!

But for now this is who I am. This is me. Take it or leave it.  Unfortunately, I've got no choice in the matter, and I'm such lucky gal to have John, who's been willing to stand there, right by my side. 

Next step - wait for the arrival of my AF, which should be any day now (BOO!). From there, hopefully on to a new month of "trying" - round 2 of injectables. And the journey continues...

AF - The Most Dreaded Acronym of Them All

Before John and I began trying for baby #1, I thought the term "aunt flo" was one of those out-of-date, never-to-be-used again, last generation terms. So, you can imagine my absolute confusion when I started visiting some of the pregnancy and TTC websites/online forums, only to find AF used over and over again.

At first, I thought if I didn't know the term, it didn't apply to me (silly, yes), but after awhile it became too difficult for me to ignore it without becoming completely lost, so I finally took the time to do a little research and figure out what the heck all of these people were talking about. And, POOF there it was -  AF = Aunt Flo (menstruation).  Amazing what you'll learn through a quick Google search.

So, as the months turned into a year and then a year-and-a-half (but who's keeping count?), I can't help but be more aware of the term AF and MY AF than I ever thought was humanly possible.

Quite honestly until we started "trying" I never really paid all that close attention to it. In my early 20ties I was always happy to see it arrive, right on time. In my mid-30ties I lost it completely due to my intense running schedule, so I never gave it a second thought. Then, when we first started TTC, I was thrilled to learn that it would show up every 28 days, like clockwork. Now?  Well, now I watch it like a hawk and dread its seemingly inevitable next arrival.

Who knew? I've spent most of my adult life doing everything in my power to avoid getting pregnant so it makes perfect sense that now I'm doing everything in my power to make a pregnancy happen, right? Wow, what a crazy world.

Tomorrow I go see a new doc, an RE who was recommended to me by a friend. Although I'm not looking forward to yet another doctor's appointment, I am excited that I won't be going to my normal OBGYN's office, where it seems everyone is eight months pregnant and all smiles. They just have no idea, or, if they do, they're just not in that same place as me right now.

Either way, I'm ready for a new start and hope that I'll be able to find a little more solace in an environment that often sees the likes of me. Someone desperately hoping her AF doesn't come this month, but secretly knows that it will.

Did I mention mine's due in three days? And, I just know it's currently making it's unwanted journey my way.  Insert BIG SIGH here.

Signing off till next time...

Hi, my name is Lex...

TTC, TWW, BFN, BFP, DH, AF...a year-and-a-half ago I wouldn't have known what any one of those acronyms meant. And, to be honest, I wished it had stayed that way.  

But now that my husband, John, and I have entered the world of trying for baby #1, and not being in that so envied group of those who breezed through it with no issues (not a big fan of that group BTW), I have unfortunately become way too familiar with these acronyms and have even started using them myself. Insert BIG SIGH here. 

I'll admit, it's been a difficult journey so far and hard to describe to anyone who's not in the same place. Hence the start of this blog, which I'm using to share my experiences from this point on and hopefully connect with other women out there going through the same thing.  

For me, I know it's been comforting reading other women's blogs  - women who have gone through some of the same experiences I have. My hope is that through this blog I will be able to reach other women out there too. I mean, let's face it, as personal a journey as this is to each and every one of us, it's hard going through it alone and alone is how you feel a lot of the time. 


So, here goes, blog entry #1. An introduction to me and what my last year-and-a-half has been like. A quick warning - this entry's a long one and future entries will be much shorter, but hopefully this entry will provide a little insight into who I am and where we go from here.




How do you define yourself?  A year ago I would have said I was a “runner”, or, in another word, “happy.”  It’s amazing how things can change in a year though. Today, I would define myself as “NOT pregnant”. Strange that that’s the first thing that comes to my mind these days but there it is.

It’s been a tough 12 months for me and my husband, John. What started off as an exciting time, filled with the hope and joy of starting a family, has become a roller-coaster state of emotions, with no real end in sight.

A year ago this month, I became pregnant for the first time. John and I were thrilled and, at the same time, haunted by new anxieties like, were we going to be good parents? Could we afford a child? How would we handle the changes and responsibility of being someone’s mom or dad?  All understandable anxieties but weirdly, exciting ones to have.

We found out I was pregnant right around Mother’s day and decided to tell John’s mom and dad the good news when we went to visit them out in the country. It was early, just a month into the pregnancy, so we knew we were taking a chance, but we also knew how excited they would be to become first-time grandparents. Honestly, I think they had given up on the possiblity, with John being just shy of 40 and us being newly married, but never having talked about wanting kids. So, we knew it would be an unexpected, happy surprise. The look of shock and ear-to-ear grins told it all. They were thrilled!  Of course, we told them not to get their hopes up too much yet, since miscarriages this early in the pregnancy were common.

But, to be quite honest, John and I both thought it would be smooth sailing. We took good care of ourselves, ate healthy, exercised regularly. I was an avid runner, he a kick-ass mountain biker and triathlete. We both watched our diet and I was following every rule in the book (to an extreme) for newly pregnant women. Avoiding foods known to cause problems, drinking lots of water, avoiding caffeine and all alcohol, taking my pre-natal vitamins, etc, etc.

Unfortunately though, the truth of the matter is that if you’re going to have a miscarriage there’s really nothing you can do to avoid it. It just happens. And, for me, it happened seven weeks into the pregnancy.

I knew something was wrong when I started spotting. Although that can be a common, normal occurrence during pregnancy I just knew that things weren’t gong to end well. And, when we went to the doctor a few days later, our worst fears were confirmed. No heartbeat, no further growth. A miscarriage was inevitable and, due to the hormone levels in my body, I needed to have a D&C procedure to complete the process.

The miscarriage was one of the worst moments in our lives. In one instant, all the hopes and dreams we thought had been realized with the pregnancy, were suddenly tossed away and we had to adjust back to the life we had before the word “pregnant” was ever spoken out-loud. Our entire state of mind was forced to shift gears in a split second, which is frankly too much to ask of anyone.

A deep sadness took over me during that time. As common as miscarriages are, it’s hard to comprehend that that many people have to go through the same, horrible experience we did. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. For more than a month, I was an emotional wreck. Crying all the time, feeling panicked and disengaged from my friends and my former life.

It was hard for me to comprehend who I was during that period, I felt a true loss of self.
I used to be a runner. Then I was pregnant. And now...what? Not a runner, because I couldn’t maintain the level of training for which I had become accustomed and still become pregnant or be pregnant. And, no longer pregnant or even able to start trying again, since my body was still in “healing” mode. Here I was in a complete state of limbo and I had no idea how to move on.

Somehow though, I got through it. I can attribute most of that to my wonderful husband, John, or to follow the proper lingo, my darling husband (DH). He was there for me every step of the way and somehow made it easier to breathe, especially on the really difficult days.  And, on the good days, he made them even better. I’m not sure I could have gotten through the pain I felt then without his constant love and support.  I know he was hurting a lot too and it was hard for me to be there for him as much as he was there for me.  In between crying-fits though, I’d tell him he could lean on me too, but with all the crying, it was hard to make much room for that. Poor guy.

And then, after a few months had passed, a bit of brightness came back into our lives and we felt somewhat normal again. So, we started trying once more.  As proactive as I like to be, and as used to being in control as I am, I was beginning to lose patience once two to three months went by with no success. I was also six months shy of turning 40, which was playing a huge role in my wanting us to have a kid as soon as possible.

Honestly, I never thought I’d be in this position - about to turn 40 and not yet a mom. Who does?  When you’re a kid you think you’ll start a career, meet the man of your dreams, buy a house, a dog and a cat, and, of course, have a couple of kiddos.  Easy as that. What you don't take into account is that you’ll make many silly mistakes along the way and finding that Mr. Right could take a bit more time than you had originally anticipated.

In my wildest dreams, I never thought it would have taken me until I was 37 to find the love-of-my-life.  A corny term, I know, but the one true way to describe how I feel about this man.  In the past, I had dated a number of men, some short-term, a few long-term, all of whom were pretty decent guys, but none of them were like John.

John and I became friends first. We had both gone through pretty bad break-ups a few years back - he from a two-year marriage and me from a seven-year dating relationship (ridiculous I know, but what can I say, I was young and stupid). Through those experiences though, we both had gotten to a point where neither of us were willing to settle and we knew what was important to us in a relationship - complete honesty, kindness, and having a lot in common.

 As it turned out, we both loved adventure, being outside, running/biking, participating in races, and pushing our bodies to the limit. So, we just clicked and, after having become friends first, we quickly fell in love. We had such fun together and, five years later, the miscarriage not withstanding, we still have a great time and discover more and more things that we love about one another.

Of course, at the time we met, I wasn’t really thinking about kids. I’ve never been that woman who’s known all of her life that she wanted to be a mom. Sometimes I would wonder if I just didn’t have that maternal instinct, but then I figured that when and if that time came I’d know it. And, so I did... which brings us to where we are today, John at 40 and me being just a few months shy of my 40th birthday, trying for baby #1.

If you’ve ever been in our position, then you probably know the pressure and state of urgency that surrounds a couple when the the woman is in her late-30ties or early-40ties. Unfortunately, it’s hard to fight the statistics -- they’re happily laid out for you, loud and clear. Since you’ve now become categorized as “high-risk” (love, that term, don’t you?), just because of your age, there are so many more, fun statistics to play with -- harder to get pregnant, increased chances of miscarriage, birth defects, etc., etc. Good times.

In November, on our two-year anniversary actually, I found out, once again, that I was pregnant. Of course, John and I were both excited but much more cautious this time around. We held our breathe when we went for the first sonogram at seven weeks and were amazed and incredibly relieved when we saw the heartbeat going strong. So exciting! But, as much as I wish I could say that this had a happy ending, unfortunately no, it was not to be the case.  A week later, at our first official OB appointment, we found out that the heart had stopped beating and we were having another miscarriage. The whole experience was surreal. I couldn’t breathe or even look directly at my doctor. I completely tuned him out as he tried his best to explain everything that was happening, and I felt the sudden urge to pass out.

To be honest, talking about this second miscarriage is still something I can’t do. Too soon maybe or just too much sadness in the memory. But, I will say that I am still here, seven months later, living my life as best I can, with the most supportive husband in the world, and am grateful for that alone every day.

And, as it turns out, through these unfortunate experiences, we may have found some root issues that were at play in the miscarriages, which ultimately resulted in my undergoing minor surgery a few months back called a hysteroscopy, which hopefully means my uterus is back in the game now (thank you technology)! Only time will tell.

Time. It’s funny how time can seem to go so slowly when you’re playing the waiting game like we are today.  The wait has been the hardest thing for me. I’m a planner and have always been as proactive as possible, paving the wave for next steps in my life.  Unfortunately, that’s not how this whole trying-to-have-a-baby thing works.  I’m no longer the one in control. Instead I must play slave to my body - waiting for it to be completely healed and ready for a new pregnancy.

So here we go again. Next week I have my first appointment with a new doctor, an RE.  I just couldn't bear another visit to my regular OBGYN's office, where everyone in the waiting room is happy, healthy, and eight months pregnant. Time for a new start. Ready-get set- GOOOO!