New Tattoo for Baby Girl

I'm completely late in posting this. I've been kind of slack with this blogging thing. Anyway, I got my new tattoo for Hayden. I have a blog entry about Alex's tattoo...on my left foot...a seeded dandelion with her name...because when I was struggling to get pregnant, I always made a wish on a seeded dandelion.

Anyway. My sister and I went to get new tattoos in early August. I decided to get Hayden's name tattooed on the inside of my right wrist. It's her name with a small heart and infinity sign. I love love love it! Annndddd....it was A LOT less painful than the tattoo on the foot. These were taken the day I had the tattoo done...

Btw-The guy who did it (calls himself Captain Ron, for real) was very nice, if not a bit gruff. But he did a great job. Also had a very dry sense of humor, which I appreciated. When I first met him, I said "I suck at getting tattoos" (meaning, I'm a big baby) and he easily responded back "I suck at giving tattoos". Now I know that this should have made me nervous, but I enjoy mock humbleness.

FET Anniversary

Saturday was our one year FET anniversary. It was also the day of our big pool party, so I didn't have a chance to blog about it. But I thought about it all day. I thought about how Hayden was put back in me, just a tiny little blastocyst-cryopreserved for six months. I look at her now and I can't believe she's here. I can't believe that I can hold her, touch her, hear her laugh and squeal. She's such a happy baby, always smiling.

She's a fighter and it still amazes me how she went through so much just to get here. She was conceived in a petrie dish (more or less), had to survive being frozen and thawed and then there was my bleeding for the first 12 weeks of pregnancy. And my initial beta numbers...they were so so so very low. Only 25.5 at 10dp5dt (or 15 dpo). That alone convinced me that it was a chemical pregnancy. I was so sure that she wouldn't survive. But the numbers kept going up...no huge jumps, just slowly and surely...consistently. At one appointment with my RE, her growth was a little behind and the nurse prepared me for the possibility of a miscarriage. This was at about 8 weeks (her growth was about 4-5 days behind). I was so scared, and also a little bit resigned. But Hayden kept growing...kept catching up. Her heart beat was always strong and steady. Then there was her birth, the scary 4 day NICU stay.

Thinking about it all, I just can't believe she's here and (knock on wood) healthy. She is such a joy and sometimes when I look at her, I just ache with fullness. That's really the only way to describe it. I ache. Her tentative beginnings still scare me if I think too long about it.

Both my girls are fighters. And I look at them both today and to me they are so perfect...perfectly formed, beautiful. And I can't believe I, we, made them. I don't know how we made anything so perfect. I can't wrap my head around it. They both went through so much to get here, that it blows my mind. And then I'm proud of myself, of us. We fought for our girls, every inch, every second. So I guess that makes us fighters too. Childbirth is empowering. But so is fighting every step of the way for what you want, for what you don't think you can live without. There's something special about my girls someday knowing how wanted they were, how much we fought to bring them into the world. There's a beauty in that. I'm just so thankful...

 Sisters

 My beautiful girls

Four Names.

No, I'm not talking about the "royal trend" of naming your kid four names. Btw, speaking of the royal baby, I couldn't help myself. I actually wondered if she did IVF to conceive a boy. I have no reason to think that, just an idle thought. I mean, surely they are aware that it can be pretty much assured. Oh well, now I'm starting to sound like a conspiracy theorist. But it **could** have happened. Isn't that the basis for a good conspiracy theory?

Anyway...we've had a lot of "things" to go to this summer. We've had birthdays to go to, my good friend's son's christening over the weekend, wedding showers, etc etc. And you know how there are just some random moments that startle you? They kind of show you how far you have come, where you have come from...I had one of those moments when I was writing out a birthday card for our nephew. At the end, it said "Love Always, Auntie Amanda, Uncle Dan, Alexandra and Hayden". Four names. It was crazy putting four names on that card. For so long, it had just been two names. Two names on all sorts of cards for all sorts of events. And I never knew if I would ever have three names to write. Now we have four. FOUR. We are a family of four.

Now, obviously I knew this. I was kind of there when both kids were birthed. But it just kind of slapped me upside the head-in a good way. We have kids. Two kids. It was just one of "those" moments. A moment that is really hard to describe or write about. We were two, now we're four. We worked so hard to be four. Since 2008, making babies has consumed us off and on. Now it doesn't. And it's a strange and wonderful feeling.

So I'm sure that I'll have other moments like that...where what we've done, what we've been through to get what we have, comes rushing back. Like buying another stocking for Christmas, maybe. Having four stocking hanging from the mantle when there had been two for a long time. And driving in the car. Going home from the hospital altogether that first time was emotional for me. Seeing our two kids in the back seat of the car. It's the stuff like that, which most people don't really think about....

And buying FOUR plane tickets. We just bought four for our month long trip to Australia for Christmas this year. Now, I won't even go into how much is costs to buy four tickets to Australia because I don't want to vomit. Let's just say...it was ugly. But four tickets-all four of us in a row. Now I just have to renew my passport and get Hayden's first one!

I wonder if I will always get a chill when writing all of our names on a card? I wonder if I'll always think back to all of our struggles, all the work and heartache that went into making our family. In lots of ways, I hope I don't lose that perspective.

Anyway...time for some pics :)

I've Come Out Of The (Infertility) Closet.

I did it. It was really kind of scary and awkward. I came out of the closet. And on Facebook no less. Am I freaking out of my mind? Why would I want people knowing my bid-ness?

So it started because a friend who sees the same specialist I did called and told me that Dr. K put my fertility story on the front "page" of his website as "Featured Fertility Success Story-July 2013". Go me.

It was a short article I wrote shortly after Hayden was born about some of my struggles, and how I was sure my FET was going to be a failure. But lo and behold...I had/have a fighter on my hands and she is currently in her swing drooling quietly :)

Anyway, it's on the opening page of his website. Which is pretty cool. I hope some women, searching for hope, read it and feel good about proceeding with a FET...because I really had thought it was going to be a dead end.

So after thinking about things and being really nervous and awkward feeling....I posted a link to the story on my Facebook for all friends/acquaintances/frenemies to see. And then I kicked myself about a second after. WTF? What was I thinking? No one wants to read about this. Now I'm going to be that "over-sharing" girl. But whatever. If it helps anyone on my friend list, it will be worth it, right? Right? Infertility is such a damn lonely road to travel. That's the hardest part. The isolation. The feeling that everyone is moving on with their lives without you. And you're stuck. You can't move forward with everyone else, but you can't go backward to the young and crazy years. It's so hard. And it's such a taboo subject.

But I understand why people don't talk about it. I can't blame them at all. It took every ounce of gumption for me to post the article. Because it contained my raw feelings. Written for my specialist's website, where people would understand. It was not an article I "sanitized" for Facebook. It's hard being vulnerable. So people don't talk about it and I get it. I didn't talk about it then. I didn't talk about it when I was going through it because the last thing I wanted to see on people's faces was pity. That's what I couldn't handle. I didn't want to be the family gossip (all well intentioned, of course)-where people whisper behind their hands "Oh yeah...I've heard that Amanda is having 'trouble'".

Beating infertility, having both my girls is what finally made it ok to talk about my struggles. And it's still hard. I still feel shame, despite knowing that I should never be ashamed. And my struggles brought me my girls.

So I hope it helps someone...or someone that someone knows. I've already have had a few private messages from friends who went through similar things. And I just had no idea. But why would I? It's still so surprising to hear of your acquaintances and friends going through treatments, even though I know that it is a much more common problem than people realize.

I've really had a lot of support stemming from that post. But it's so funny, people's perspectives. I've had a few refer to how "brave" I am. While that's a nice comment....there's really nothing brave about going through treatments. You do what you have to do when it's the only choice you have. You just do what you have to do.

I Was Kind of an A-Hole.

So on Friday, my friend, Karen, had a Tastefully Simple Party. They are always a lot of fun and a small group of us always end up staying late, finishing off the food and drinking the wine.

Anyway, have you ever gone to a party and there's that one person who's just kind of obnoxious about their beliefs? They think they are right and get all up on their soap box during what should be a fun, leisurely get-together? I hate those people. Those people that make parties serious and kill the mood. Ugh. I usually stay far away. Hell, I don't get to parties very often these days-last thing I want to do is get all serious.

Well. I became that person. The mood killer. I was kind of an obnoxious asshole. I know...who would have thunk it. The thing is, I don't really care because I still think I'm right...making me even more of an asshole.

I just couldn't ignore this conversation-a conversation had between two young women (like 22-24'ish) who have never tried getting pregnant (that I know of), never had a pregnancy loss and, in all likelihood, will not have problems conceiving.

They were talking about "someday" when they have kids. About all the great, wholesome things they will do (never drink Diet Coke while pregnant, kid will never watch TV, water birth, etc.). Then the one starts in on home birth and the fact that it has such a bad rap and that she'd really like to try it and (of course) without pain meds.

So I'm listening, listening, listening...drinking some wine. This is clearly some Utopian thing that they have envisioned without truly researching. I mean, "of course" they will have a mid-wife...and apparently that would be enough to make sure everything goes as planned.

So finally, I couldn't hold back. I tell them about my two vaginal (medicated) births...how BOTH times, there were heart rate decelerations because of the cord being somewhat compressed while the babies were going through the birth canal. I told them how the nurses came in and made me turn from side to side to alleviate some of that pressure on the cord. How it fixed things with Alex just fine....but with Hayden, they were seriously considering an emergency C-section when I was finally able to push her out. She's healthy now, developing perfectly normally (knock on wood)-but she was in the NICU for four days for "transitioning issues". No one knows why? It could have been because she was in distress during labor...who knows?

So I concluded-what if I had been at home and needed an emergency C-section right at that moment? I wouldn't have gotten one, mid-wife there or not. What if I hadn't been monitored during labor? What if I didn't know to change positions? Hayden's cord was wrapped around her body-something could have happened and it's only by the grace of God that everything turned out ok. But she was in distress-I was where I needed to be-in the hospital!

These girls were so young...so full of themselves without doing any research. Home birth sounded good to them, is the "in" thing....trendy. They've never carried a baby though, and worried everyday about the health of that baby. They've never lost a baby, miscarried a baby. They have never loved something as much as they will when they are pregnant. They just have no idea. At least be informed before spouting your views.

Well...the girls then started spouting about how women have had babies for thousands of years and that they had them in their homes or in the middle of fields. Of course, they glossed over the fact that the infant/mother mortality rate was sky high as well.

And I did it then. I was the jerk who used another's tragedy to make my point. I've still been so shaken up about my friend T and her lost baby girl that I lost it myself. I told them about my friend having to deliver a dead baby. About how she will never, *never* be the same. How she's lost her child, she's a mother without her baby. That's a grief that will never, ever leave her. And WHY would they want to risk anything happening to their future babies because they want as little medical assistance as possible???? Fine-don't have medical assistance-just be in a hospital in case you need it! So it's there! So your baby will have every chance of making it. Because the tragic fact is-not all babies make it.

Of course, the mood was killed for awhile. And I hated being the cause of it. I'm so not that person. A party is really not the place to be discussing such things. But dang-I wanted to bitch slap those women.

I certainly don't mean to be disrespectful to women who chose home birth. I just don't believe it is safe. So much can go wrong. And seeing T's pain of having lost her precious baby...why would anyone want to risk anything going wrong if they can possibly prevent it???? I'm sure some women want to home birth for good reasons (though I still don't think it's safe) but some women do it because they feel they have something to prove, part of the mompetition. To them...I say....get the hell over yourselves.

So I guess it's angry post day today...sorry....but I still think I'm right ;)

Most Babies Make It....

Most babies make it...but the reality of the situation is...some babies do not :(

I've been putting off this post for a few days. If  you're currently pregnant, you may not want to continue reading. No reason to make yourself more paranoid than you probably already are (not criticizing. I was the MOST paranoid pregnant woman ever).

My good friend "T" is 42. She has never been married. She has wanted a child desperately for years now. She would be such an amazing mother. She tried going the adoption route, only to have the baby boy she had from 6 weeks old to one year old taken away and put back with his scum bag biological family. Because the current trend is to put babies back with their biological families whenever possible. And from what I see, a lot of times it's not a good choice. But anyway. She suffered heartbreak there.
She lost a baby.

I convinced her to see my fertility specialist, to see Dr. K. We both knew she was up against steep odds with her age. But what the hell-why not try. She went through three rounds of IVF with donor sperm. Nothing took. She was on her last round this past fall, and decided that this would be it if nothing happened. She got pregnant. She was so cautious for so long, given her age. But gradually, she became more and more excited.

I'd see T at work every Wednesday and we would talk about our pregnancies for hours. We would text each other after OB appointments-she ended up going to the same doctor I see.

T made it to 37 weeks. Full term. A healthy, beautiful baby that she was going to name Addison Catherine. Her nickname would be Addie.

T  had stopped feeling the baby moving this past Saturday. She went into the doctor's office and they could not find the heart beat via doppler. The ultrasound confirmed fetal death. At 37 weeks. T had to be induced and had to do the unthinkable-deliver a dead infant. The official cause of death was placental abruption caused by blood clots in a section of the placenta.

I can't imagine. I feel sick. I feel guilty (despite knowing this has nothing to do with me and is not about me). This was pretty much her last chance at parenthood. I physically ache for T.

We went through our pregnancies together. We were going to have time off together and our daughters were going to grow up together. We live in the same school district-they were going to be in kindergarten together.

We went through the IVF experience together. We went through infertility together. We talked about our fears and cried when we got negative tests.

How did this happen?

The worst part is...they were going to take the baby out via emergency C-section three weeks ago because they lost her heart beat when T was being monitored. They assumed she had been wrapped in the cord and that, when she became untangled, her heart beat started again. Now I'm thinking it was the start of the placental issue. Why the hell didn't they take her? She would have maybe spent a month in the NICU-but would have been alive. T was literally stripped down and being wheeled into the operating room when Addie's heart beat came back. Obviously there was something wrong. Why didn't they just take her?????

I'm just devastated for her. She's lost two babies. How can anyone come back from that?

Say a little prayer for my friend...she needs it right now.

And please God, protect my babies and our whole family. Life is precious.

Whoa...its been awhile since I was last on here! I've been meaning to blog, but at the end of the day I'm just too darned drained (or lazy) to work up the motivation to write anything. I'm pretty much speaking in tongues by 9pm anyway. Just kidding. Things have actually been going really well (knock on wood). Hayden has been sleeping like a champ. She'll usually take her last feeding between 10-11 and then go down until 6-8am. I really can't complain about that at 7 1/2 weeks old!

Hayden has quite the little character. She's a little love...has been smiling for about three weeks now and is coo'ing and making other noises. I even got a little giggle out of her. She's also working on batting at her toys and grasping. Alex is loving the fact that "her baby" can now smile and "talk" to her. I love seeing them together. Sometimes I still can't believe that they are ours. That we made them.

The other day I was driving around a neighborhood near our old house. I was looking at landscaping, trying to get ideas for our new house (every house is pretty much professionally landscaped there). Anyway, it is the development that I always used to run in, trying to get myself as fit as possible to carry a pregnancy. And the memories came flooding back. Of pushing myself, thinking if I could just get fitter, that my pcos would "go away" and I would get pregnant on my own. I remember going on a run through that development, pretty much wailing, because I found out a girl that I knew just had her baby (an old "friend" who rubbed her pregnancy in my face when she knew I was having trouble). I remember going on walks through there, trying to clear my head, and seeing all these "family" houses with toys outside and swing sets. Sometimes I felt like I was torturing myself, running through that development-filled with young families.

I still remember all of it. All of those feelings. All that hurt. And I still think that infertility will always be a part of who I am (although I'm sure to a different extent as life moves on). I wonder if I will ever hear a story about someone getting pregnant after a month or by accident, and be completely unaffected by it? Or will some tiny, miniscule part always be jealous? It's almost like a knee-jerk reaction now, a habit to feel that way. And I certainly don't want any more kids right now, but there's still a part of me that hears those stories and a little twinge of longing fills me. Maybe it's because I know that the option to "just have" another child is really not open to us. Having another baby would involve medical assistance. And with two healthy (knock on wood) little girls, I'm pretty certain that part of my life is finished.  I don't even know that we want to try the natural way for a third. I'm thinking we are happy with two. But the point is-most people have the option to "just see what happens".

But this longing is becoming less and less. In some big ways, infertility was a gift. I have the two girls I have because of it! I'm stronger because of it! I don't take parenthood for granted because we fought every step of the way for it. And I think that I'm that much more patient and "present" because of it. And I know I've helped other women going through it. And that gives me SO much satisfaction. So really, things have worked out the way they were supposed to. I cannot imagine having different children, and I would have if it weren't for PCOS.