Straaa-aaannngggeeee Thiiingsss (sung ala Randy Newman on Toy Story Soundtrack)

The past couple of days, I have not been feeling myself. I am tired. Not just tired, but darn near exhausted. I can't sleep well at night. I toss and turn. Part of me thinks it is because the weather has been so humid and I refuse to turn on the air conditioning. I refuse to turn it on because the second floor never cools down. It just stays hot. I have awoken in night sweats several nights in the past two weeks.

On top of not sleeping well, I have been having really strange dreams. They are very vivid and seem to be real. I can be in the middle of a dream, wake up for a few minutes, and then fall back asleep right into the dream I had just left.

Last night I started something else new. I had huge cravings for hot pepper cheese. Eating a piece or two wasn't cutting it for me. I lost track of how many pieces I ate. But let me tell you, it was soooo delicious! My body is paying the price now. I forgot how "binding" cheese is...

These new changes have occurred in the past. I experienced them all in May. The only thing missing is the strong urge to have pickles every night. I am not going to let myself think too much into this. I still have 8 days to wait before testing. Longest 8 days ever!

Now a verse to leave you with. This has been very encouraging to me over the past year.

Blessed is the man who is patient under trial and stands up under temptation,

for when he has stood the test and been approved, he will receive [the victor's] 
crown of life which God has promised to those who love Him.

~James 1:12 (Amplified)

Life Goes On

So, not much has been happening in la casa de Galloway the past few days. I think this post will be one of numbers. Here goes...

0: the number of times I have worked out in the past 8 days...and it stinks!

33: the number of years I have gone without a cavity. Had a great check-up at the dentist today.

9: how many days are left of the dreaded two week wait. I may just wait a day or two longer...I am terrified to POAS (pee on a stick)!

7: number of months it has been since I heard from a really good friend. She contacted me out of the blue yesterday and tonight I learned that she is moving within 5 minutes of me!

4: the number of days left in my summer vacation before school officially starts.

6: the number of medications I have to take everyday...I can think of three that I can't wait to stop taking, but it won't be anytime soon.

8.5: the number of hours of uninterrupted sleep I pray I get tonight.

1: the number of infants I held at work today. He was two months old and such a tiny peanut!

14: the number of hours it will be until I finally get my car back from the shop! Five and a half days is a long time when you have places to go and people to see!

Quality Time with Mommy

Yes, I am one of those people that takes pictures with her pets and of her pets. They are my furry children. I spoil them rotten because I don't have any human babies to spoil...yet. Pardon the quality of the pictures, as they were taken by the built-in camera on my laptop.

My sweet Anka hanging with me.

Oliver and Anka having a stare down...

Hanging out with mommy. This is a rarity, so I have to capture the moment!

Talking My Language

I love my husband all the time. He makes me laugh daily, which is the best medicine! Sure there are times I want to scream when he does something that "isn't pleasing" to me. But I still love him.

Last fall I read "The Five Love Languages". It really opened my eyes as to how I show my love for people (especially Scott), and how others show their love.

Scott was an easy one to figure out. His main love language is physical touch. I know this, he knows this. My love language is definitely NOT physical touch. If you know me at all, I actually really dislike being touched. So how we have been together for just shy of 16 years is purely a blessingnof God.

My love language was a little harder for me to figure out. I narrowed it down to two. Words of affirmation and acts of kindness. I think my main language is acts of kindness. I like to help people and do nice things, like bake a treat to share. I really like it though when Scott does things around the house...without being asked a million times.

Tonight he was singing my language! He fixed a light fixture, replaced light bulbs, and unclogged a drain. I was smitten as a kitten. Now if only I could put my likes and dislikes aside for a while and speak his love language more often.

Babe- thanks for speaking my language tonight! You are remarkable and I am so proud of your strength and willpower the past couple of days.

All Consuming Emotions

I have been feeling overwhelmed lately. There are a few reasons for this. One reason, I can't share at this time. I am overwhelmed with anxiety about the upcoming school year. This upcoming school year has a few changes for me, one of which is pretty major. Not only am I getting a completely new classroom, but I am the new math teacher for 8-12 grades. Now, I won't have all the upperclassmen, but I will have a couple. It has been a long time since I have taught math above the basics. I am not doubting my abilities, I just know that I am rusty at it and hope that I can quickly get into the swing of it. My new classroom isn't quite finished yet, and I am a little nervous that it won't be ready in time. I am praying that there is nothing to worry about come next Tuesday.

Most of my anxiety stems from this month's infertility treatment. I am nervous that it won't take. The treatments are not cheap, and each month that doesn't take is like flushing money down the drain. There are new medications that I am taking. The Folbic has not been a concern, it is a welcome addition as it is folic acid with extra B complex vitamins. I can use all the extra energy I can get. Tonight starts a new medication in my regime. I have to use Progesterone capsules at bedtime. This two week wait is pure torture. I have a constant reminder that I am waiting on important news each time I look at the ottoman in the living room. The ottoman is my medicine cabinet...I keep them all out in plain sight with the time of need written on the caps of each bottle.

It is times like this that I really struggle. I know that I need to be diligent in turning all my thoughts over to the Lord. That fear and anxiety are not emotions from the Lord. They can be crippling to me. The thoughts of worry and fear become all consuming and the paralyze me.

So do me a favor...please let me know what specific verses in the Bible bring you peace and clarity? Encouragement and hope? I need all the help I can get to overcome this irrational fear and anxiety once and for all.

Preserving the Past

So, I have been debating for a while now on what to do with something. I have a series of ultrasound pictures from this summer's pregnancy. I don't know what to do with them. On one hand, they are precious memories of live personified. Scott and I tried so long to create that little miracle. On the other hand, it is a reminder of one of the worst possible things that could happen to a couple. The loss of our second child was more painful than losing the first.

I want to remember how excited I was to see the progress and hear our little miracle's heartbeat. I saw it grow over the course of a couple weeks. I have heard that ultrasound pictures fade after a while, but I don't know how long that takes. So, I am choosing to keep them preserved on my blog. While they will be kept in perfect condition on the Internet, I have no idea what to do with the real ones and how to keep them preserved.

Our little miracle at 7 weeks 0 days. It was measuring small, but we had hope and faith.

The first and last time we heard the precious heartbeat. A week later, our little miracle was found to have gone home.

My New Friend

Here is a picture of my new friend. She doesn't have a name...I feel like she should. She will be accompanying me everywhere for at least the next 15 days. I don't know how this is supposed to work. Do I just have her with me at my appointments and procedures? Or do I keep it until a baby is in my arms?
So far she has been to work with me, Akron and Canton. Maybe she will be like an adult version of Flat Stanley...

Have a great weekend!

Secret Weapon

A couple day ago, I got a private message on F@cebook from a family friend. She wanted me to know her husband was going to drop something off for me at my mom's house. I went and got it yesterday morning. In the bag was a beautiful note. The bag also held a beautiful item. It is now my secret weapon in my journey through infertility.
She has loaned me a handcrafted, authentic "African Fertility God". I am excited to see if it brings good things this month. Now, don't get upset thinking that I am going to be worshiping false idols or other gods. It is just a unique wooden carving that has special meaning to the culture that created it. If it can bring several miracles to three women, why not carry it with me to my procedures?
I took it with me today to my Day 12 Ultrasound. It stayed stashed in my purse. The appointment went really well. I had two HUGE follicles on one side and one decent sized follicle on the other. By huge, I mean they were 22mm. Anything over 19 is good. After the ultrasound I got a "atta girl" from the doctor...like I can control how many follicles develop and their size. The nurse came in and gave me my trigger shot of HcG.
So that means tomorrow and Saturday mornings are the big days. Please pray for good results on this round. I realized later this afternoon that I had a question about a medication and called the doctor. A couple weeks ago, I thought the doctor had mentioned I would start taking progesterone a couple days after my insemination. Well, he never mentioned it again and I thought if I was supposed to be taking it, I was going to need a prescription...STAT! The nurse told me that they usually don't prescribe progesterone until you are pregnant, but she would ask the doctor. If she was incorrect, she would call me back. Not five minutes later, low and behold I got a return phone call. He said he was fine with me starting progesterone this Sunday, and not waiting until I got a positive home pregnancy test. Tomorrow and Saturday mornings I have my procedures. Sunday night, at bedtime, I start taking progesterone. And then the two week wait starts. These next two weeks are going to drag...
Please continue to pray for me, Scott, and the doctor to execute these procedures flawlessly.

And so it begins again

This summer I learned quite a bit about myself. I learned that I am stronger than I thought I was. I learned that it really is okay to Let go and let God. And when you do that, prayers are more often answered. I have learned that I am powerless over my emotions and I need help dealing with them.
I turned to God after my second miscarriage. I leaned on Him like never before. I found that the more I gave it all to Him, the calmer and happier and at peace I was...so much so that after dinner one evening with my best friend, she texted me that I seem like a different person. That my whole "vibe" was different and that I seemed happier. I owe all of this to God!
My doctor has recommended that we start trying to conceive again right away. The odds are better in the first three months after a pregnancy loss. So, I have taken the fertility meds prescribed to me, along with some extra "goodies" he had ordered for me. Now, the much anticipated progress ultrasound is less than 36 hours away. This will let us know if my follicles have developed enough to trigger ovulation and proceed with IUI.
Here is the problem...I am reverting back to my old ways. I am worried sick that something will go wrong. In my mind, I HAVE TO have the IUI performed Friday morning because I have pretty important plans for the weekend. I LITERALLY cannot get the procedure done on Saturday or Sunday without ruining my weekend. The control freak, worry wart is in full effect and it pains me. I KNOW now what it is like to be calm and not stress over things I have no control over.
This should be something that I could just give to God, but I can't! The devil is playing a nasty game with my psyche this week and planting seeds of doubt.
So, if there is anyone who reads this please do me a huge favor and pray for me the next few days. I am going to need all the prayers I can get.

Letting go and Letting God

We all know that my pregnancy unfortunately ended early. I was devastated. This miscarriage was much more difficult to deal with for several reasons. Some of which I still don't understand and I don't think I ever will. This time, I was left with so much anxiety and raw emotion, I didn't know what to do. It also left me with horrible heart palpitations. Medicines that were prescribed to prevent them were not working. I went to my physician, whom I trust without question. He listened to me complain about all that was going on both in my life and in my body. Once I had stopped talking, he told me that I needed help. I knew I needed help, that is why I was there. He told me that this time I would have to get help without medical intervention.

He recommended I start attending a support group, if you will. This support group "will help you learn to deal with your emotions". According to him, I had a lot of pent up emotions going back to my father's death 9.5 years ago. Deep down I knew he was right; but who wants to admit that they need to go to a support group at my age? I reluctantly agreed to go.

That was five weeks ago. I have gone every week. I have been working the "program" and I think it is helping me. Now, if I had just been going to the meetings, I don't think it would be helping me much. What is different now, is that I am taking time out of everyday to read a devotional and my Bible. I am deliberate in my readings and try to carry out what the devotional says in my daily life.

I have grown stronger in my relationship with Christ throughout this whole ordeal. When I first found out I would probably lose my baby and then finding out that I DID lose the baby, I would just cry and yell out "WHY GOD?!?! Why me, again?" or "This isn't fair! What did I do?" I didn't take the time to stop and listen for an answer. Slowly, over the last 6 weeks, I have learned to still my thoughts and actions. I have learned to stop asking why. I may never know why and I am slowly becoming okay with that. Now, instead of asking why, I have learned to ask for guidance in the future. To thank Him for my struggles. He obviously wanted me to learn something from them. I had learned through my meetings and through my walk with the Lord to stop worrying so much. Take one day at a time and to let go and let God.

I believe that by letting go of my worry, I opened up a door to a new hope. God has moved in HUGE ways in my life this week alone. I got great news on my blood work, with the exception of one test. But that one test was not all bad news. There is a reasonable "fix" for my defective gene that will hopefully allow my body to carry a baby to full term. So I got two pieces of good news that I KNOW God had a hand in. Then the nurse told me that unfortunately my insurance company may not cover the medicine I HAVE TO HAVE when I get pregnant. I was trying not to worry too much about it. I kept telling myself that if we have to pay a grand a month for the medicine, we will find a way to make it work.

Then the biggest Praise God moment I have had yet, the same nurse called me later in the day. She told me that she had talked to the special pharmacy that deals with fertility medications and treatments. They informed her that my insurance company, did not only cover my medication but the co-pay would only be $10/month. HOW AWESOME is that?!?! Only God could have moved that mountain.

So while this post is running a little long, I have one thought left. I am trying to be optimistic that all of these things mean that a baby will be in my near future. But there is that old part of me that isn't quite healed yet that plants a seed of doubt in my mind. That seed of doubt is saying "Don't get your hopes up! It won't work again!" Wait a minute...I shouldn't say that it is part of me...that is the devil trying to turn me away from the light and being positive. Whenever he tries to get me down, I am going to tell myself "Let go, and let God!"

What's in Your Blood?

I had the misfortune pleasure of having 10 vials of blood drawn back in July after my D&C. When I say "pleasure", I mean it. I actually like I to give blood...call me a sicko if you want, my feelings won't be hurt. The good doc determined that I needed to spare some of my blood so that he could gain an insight as to what is going on in my DNA. I was checked for a whole gamut of shtuff; most of which I cannot remember or do I care to remember. I was hoping to get the results like two weeks ago; that was a pipe dream!

So yesterday, I called the fertility group I see to schedule a Day 3 ultrasound (which for you non-infertility people out there is just a baseline ultrasound to make sure there are no cysts on my ovaries). **On a side-note, let me just share that I really did NOT miss having a monthly visitor this summer. It was so nice not to have to worry about being prepared and to not have cramps.**Any who...my call was returned later by a staff member. She informed me that I could NOT have an ultrasound until I had met with Dr. M to discuss my blood results. Well, you didn't want to mess with me. I, as kindly as I could, informed her that the last time I was in there (a week and a half ago) Dr. M did not inform me that I needed to see him before having my ultrasound. And I asked if there was a way I could discuss with him these results at the same appointment as the ultrasound. I ended up having to go to another office, which was fine with me otherwise I would have had to wait to day 4 and that would just mess up my schedule I had planned out in my head.

I got to the appointment early, like any good patient should, and ended up waiting almost an hour to see him. That is the longest I have ever had to wait for him...which wouldn't have been so bad except the office seemed to be like 90 degrees. To others it was probably comfortable, but I have my own personal summers every day...don't judge me. He did the ultrasound and I am cyst free which is a green light for treatment to commence.

After the ultrasound, he started to go over the blood test results. Long story short, he tested me for like over a dozen different things and all but 1 came back normal which was AWESOME! The one test that had a problem was kind of a big one. I don't remember the name of the test, and it isn't important. One of my parents gave me a defective gene, wasn't that nice of them? There is no way to tell who gave it to me, but I KNOW that it was my dad. This defective gene creates a problem when a carrier gets pregnant. I am unable to create a protein my body needs to allow the placenta to root itself into the wall of the uterus. My body creates blood clots in the capillaries, which prevents the embryo from growing and results in early pregnancy loss, low birth weight, or pre-term babies (if it can get to the point).

The good news is, there is a plan now. I have to begin taking a low-dose aspirin everyday, along with prenatals and a prescription strength folic acid. Once I become pregnant, I will have to go on blood thinners. Hopefully, this regimen will allow me to get pregnant and STAY pregnant for at least 36 weeks.

The End of A Dream

Last post I informed you of how Scott and I were so excited to find out that we were going to have a baby and then unfortunately I miscarried. On July 10, I had one of my worst nightmares come true. I had to have a D&C. The morning of the surgery, I had to have a "confirmation ultrasound" to get a second "opinon" to verify my baby had indeed lost its little heartbeat. The doctor that did the ultrasound was so sweet and apologized for having to see me under these circumstances. She was also the doctor that did the actual insemination that got me pregnant. After verifying the loss, I had to go downstairs to the same day specialty surgery center.

The nurses there were wonderful. They tried their best to ease my mind and help me relax, when all I wanted to do was cry and scream and just go home. My doctor was fashionably late (as usual) and I was finally taken back to the OR about 15 minutes late. I had done so well with keeping calm and not crying. As soon as they wheeled me in that cold, cold room I started whimpering. I was terrified. Not of the procedure, I had every confidence in the world that it would go as planned. I was terrified of being put under general anesthesia. Medicine worries terrifies me if I have never used it before. (When I had my gall bladder removed, I did not do so well coming out of the anesthesia. I was crying, angry, and pissed at the world)

Apparently, everything went well with the surgery and I was childless once again. I remember waking up in recovery, with Scott by my side. I immediately asked him what time it was. He told me the time, and I immediately said "Good, because that means I get to leave in 15 minutes." Prior to going into surgery, the nurse said if everything went well, I could leave by 1:00. The recovery nurse asked if I was in pain, and I wasn't. I was told that I would have to be able to drink and keep down some crackers if I wanted to get pain medication and to go home. All I was interested in was using the restroom and getting the heck out of there. One of the nurses "assisted me" to the restroom. I did my business and called for her. She came back and asked if I had to change my pad. I sarcastically said that I would require underwear to do that. So, she kindly went and retrieved my belongings. I went to grab my underwear from her, and she wouldn't let go. So I ended up arguing with her that I wasn't handicapped, I only had a little surgery. Suffice it to say, she won that battle...if I wasn't hopped up on pain killers I think I would have gotten my way. ;-)

Recovery from the D&C was easy, at least physically. I had no pain, no bleeding...until about a week later, and even then it was just a couple hours of spotting. Recovery mentally and emotionally was much harder. I cried. A lot. Scott was such a good husband. He made meals, he did laundry, he was the only "functioning" person in the house for a good two weeks.

I had a saline ultrasound two week post op to make sure everything was healing like it should be. That was a horrible experience. I have to take medicine to dilate my cervix anytime there is a catheter involved in a procedure. Well, my doctor insisted that it shouldn't be a problem this time. Let me tell you, he was WAAAYYY wrong. He ended up needing to pry my cervix open with a hemostat (which I would not wish upon anyone). I got the all clear and everything looked great.

Catch up

So, just when I was getting in to the habit of blogging on a regular basis, I had to self-impose a blogging ban. I found out I was pregnant, which was the best news ever! I made myself stop updating about our infertility journey, just in-case something happened to the pregnancy. I didn't want to have to explain anything. Instead of just continuing to blog, I went in an unhealthy direction and became intrigued OBSESSED with any website I could find that had to do with pregnancy and even better...if it had a message board! My life quickly became all about this tiny embryo that I had been waiting for so long to claim as my own.

There were many doctor appointments, blood draws, ultrasounds. This whole being "high risk" and seeing a specialist had its perks. I had three great ultrasounds in less than a month. I got to see my little lentil growing, albeit a very slow growth (which would end up being a problem) and Scott and I got to hear a little heartbeat. Hearing that heartbeat was a double edge sword to me. The bright side was that I got to hear a working, embryonic heart. The bad thing was, as soon as I heard it, I knew something was wrong. Normal baby heartbeats sound like a horse galloping, you know strong, loud and fast. My baby's heartbeat was not so loud, not so strong and the opposite of fast. Hearing a pulse of 77 is great for an adult...not so great for a developing baby. My doctor was so supportive and great. He told us to have faith, it could be one of two things. Either the heart had JUST started to beat that day and was "warming up" or the heart was not strong enough and the baby was on its way to its "demise". No newly expectant parent wants to hear "your baby may be on its way to its demise", however there is no delicate way to state it.

I was SOOOOO grateful that Scott was there and was able to hear its little heartbeat. We prayed a lot over the next week. We went to the next ultrasound, July 3rd. We believe in a Lord of miracles. In our hearts and our minds, we knew that a miracle could have happened and our little lentil's heart could have gotten stronger. I was so desperately trying to stay positive and upbeat, but I had a horrible feeling that morning. Our wonderful doctor was trying to be optimistic, too...right up to the last minute. During the ultrasound, he measured the sac and the embryo. Both had grown in the past week, which was great news. Then he turned on the sound to find the heartbeat...radio silence. There was nothing. I immediately started the silent, ugly cry. You know the one, where your body is like contorting and you look like you are having a seizure, but you don't make a sound. FYI, this is a very painful way to cry with an ultrasound wand still inside your lady parts. My doctor apologized and seemed to be just as upset as we were. He excused himself and waited for me to get it together and come out of the exam room.

He told me to go home and come back in a few days to discuss our options. I wasn't about to do that. I told him that I was okay and I wanted to know my options then, not have to come back and rehash everything. Long story, tried to be made shorter, I decided to get a D&C. I couldn't stomach the thought of walking around for an unknown period of time, waiting for my body to recognize that my baby had died and pass it on its own. So, I scheduled my surgery and went home. The next few days were horrible sucked royally.

And I think that is where I am going to end this little trip down memory lane. Next installment...the end of a dream.