Loved and lost or not at all?

It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Is it? 

What about when it comes to  infertility and pregnancy loss?

What’s better then? I mean, obviously neither. 

Does fertile myrtle have any idea what it’s like, what we go through, every time we hear a pregnancy announcement? 

When women around me announce their pregnancy there’s a lot of thoughts and feelings that cross my mind.

I think about what she felt when she found out. When that magical second line appeared on the stick. I smile because I know that feeling. It’s shock and excitement. It’s a bunch of plans being made in an instant. Her heart starts racing. 

But then I remember what it feels like to have that happiness literally ripped from me. And my stomach turns. And the smile turns to a tight lipped frown, trying to hold back tears. 

Since I’ve been pregnant once I can’t tell you how it feels to hear the pregnancy announcements when you’ve never been able to have one. I can’t describe the utter frustration and anguish. 

I keep thinking ‘well at least I got to be pregnant once.’ Even though only for a few short weeks. I got to feel full and sick and eat only ice cream for dinner once because the craving was that bad. So if I never get to be pregnant again, or have a baby, at least I have that. I can hang onto that. 

But then I think, what if I didn’t? To never have had that experience. Because being pregnant, and then having it ripped away after it tried to kill me, was like doing heroin. Or so I imagine. I can’t stop thinking about it. All. The. Time. I remember how my body felt vividly. I want that feeling back. I need that feeling back. Now. 

If I never had that first hit…

The grass is always greener, right? 

Clearly neither is better. They both suck. 

Fertile myrtle announces her pregnancy and infertility survivors and pregnancy loss survivors alike silently scream and cry in our heads while faking a smile and enthusiasm. We rage. We ask why not me? What’s wrong with me? When will it be my turn? Will it ever be my turn?  In our minds, we are smashing the good china plates. Possibly throwing a tantrum like the child we wish we had. 

Then we go home, or just to the restroom if we make it that far, and we cry. For all that we had and lost, for all that we never had, for the fear of what we may never have. 

Every. Single. Time. 

It’s exhausting. It’s maddening. I don’t know how we all pull it together and keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

But we just do. 


Beam Me Up

I just found out that Pink’s song ‘Beam Me Up’ is about a miscarriage. This is probably old news. But I thought I’d share in case I’m not the only one living under a rock.

“There’s a whole ‘nother conversation going on
In a parallel universe.
Where nothing breaks and nothing hurts.
There’s a waltz playin’ frozen in time
Blades of grass on tiny bare feet
I look at you and you’re lookin’ at me.

Could you beam me up,
Give me a minute, I don’t know what I’d say in it
I’d probably just stare, happy just to be there, holding your face
Beam me up,
Let me be lighter, I’m tired of being a fighter,
I think a minute’s enough,
Just beam me up.

Saw a blackbird soarin’ in the sky,
Barely a breath I caught one last sight
Tell me that was you sayin’ goodbye,
There are times I feel the shiver and cold,
It only happens when I’m on my own,
That’s how you tell me I’m not alone

Could you beam me up,
Give me a minute, I don’t know what I’d say in it
I’d probably just stare, happy just to be there, holding your face
Beam me up,
Let me be lighter, I’m tired of being a fighter,
I think a minute’s enough,
Just beam me up.

In my head I see your baby blues
I hear your voice and I, I break in two and now there’s
One of me, with you

So when I need you can I send you a sign
I’ll burn a candle and turn off the lights
I’ll pick a star and watch you shine

Just beam me up,
Give me a minute, I don’t know what I’d say in it
I’d probably just stare, happy just to be there, holding your face
Beam me up,
Let me be lighter, I’m tired of being a fighter,
I think, a minute’s enough,
Beam me up
Beam me up
Beam me up
Could you beam me up.”

Happy Halloween

Here’s an article I found on dealing with Halloween when childless and struggling to conceive.

I’m going with the don’t even be home method. We were lucky enough to get invited to a party tonight and jumped at the offer. At our neighborhood the inner city kids get bussed in to trick or treat because it’s too dangerous in their neighborhood. But we had 18 year olds and moms not dressed up with their infants who were out as well. We went through 5 bags of candy and our personal stash in an hour and a half last year.

Whatever your plans are I hope you have a great day and night!


Waiting for O day

Waiting to ovulate. Story of my life these days huh?

I have femara in my possession and am on day 3 of taking it. I’ve never been so excited to take a drug made for cancer patients.  Here’s to ovulating! Let’s hope. To the big O, and beyond.

I’d like to do acupuncture as well this cycle but I just don’t have the extra money.  So it’s all up to femara.  My doc said I can try femara for 3 cycles and then I’ll officially be sent to a RE and probably for injectables. But, that’s not my plan.  Come new year, if I’m not pregnant then I’m starting vitex and maca root etc. Assuming I do actually ovulate on femara. Either way I’ll probably see the RE.

Round 1

The other night I attended a networking event for local female entrepreneurs.  It was the first time I had to have a conversation about my loss with a stranger.  This woman was in skin care, and asked about my skin issues. I told her I have acne that won’t go away due to my hormones being messed up from being pregnant.  Am I nursing? No I’m not.  So I have a little one at home huh? No. I don’t. The pregnancy ended badly. Cue the deafening sound of the conversation coming to an awkward screeching halt. So it ended badly is all I could say about it. Next time I’ll do better. I feel bad for her. I feel bad for her. Because my shitty life made her uncomfortable. I’m shaking my head.

Round 2

Last night I went to a halloween party with a bunch of people I’ve never met, and who know nothing about my ectopic and infertility struggles. I’m an introvert. It’s an effort to open up in situations like that. But there was a seemingly cool young woman there so I struck up a conversation. Trying to make friends and mingle. Trying to have some semblance of normalcy. I even drank some hard cider!

Within minutes I realized that approaching this 26 year old woman was a mistake. I had found fertile fucking myrtle of all people! 26, engaged for years but not married, 3 unplanned kids. Smoked cigarettes and pot the entire time she was pregnant and her kids turned out fine so far. (Never would have pegged her for that type by looking at her.)

She asked if we had kids, and all I said was not yet but we were trying. How old are we? 30. Oh well it’s good that you waited that long! It’s a good thing to be out of your 20’s before having a kid. Bit my tongue a lot there. I’m not exactly waiting by choice you bimbo! Yes I have a baby but he didn’t survive you insensitive ass! If he had survived I’d still be pregnant and not smoking anything because I’d actually care about my baby you twit!

Then all night long I had her camera and phone shoved in my face with pictures of all her kids and their many poses. Forcing a fake smile and nod through it all. God forbid I make someone else feel uncomfortable this week. This is what I get for trying to come out of my shell. This is what I get for thinking I can ever be normal. This is what happens when I try to make a friend or mingle.

I eventually just shut up and tried to pretend I was really engrossed in the game of beer pong being played in front of me. So then she had to ask if I was fighting with Mr. Big. Nope. Was it her? Had she upset me? Grit my teeth. Nope. Had she said something? Grit harder. Nope. Just leave me alone, I silently wished.

Mr. Big was standing on the other side of the room watching me. He said he watched the progression on my face. It went from ok, to annoyed, to pissed, to oh shit this dumb broad is going to get kicked. So he came over and without saying even 1 complete sentence to eachother he knew exactly what was wrong. Of course he thinks of her and the situation the same way I do. Luckily she left us alone for the rest of the night. Guess I just can’t fake it like I used to. Frankly my dear I just don’t give a damn. Screw the fertile’s comfort.

I had thought at one brief point that I’d take her aside and explain why I was upset. But then I thought, nah.

I tapped out after that. No more, you win. Let me go lick my wounds in a quiet, smoke-free corner.

Today I feel like crap. Tired because we didn’t go to bed until 3am which is way past any bed time of mine in like a year. Headaches all day which I’m guessing is the femara side effects starting. Feeling sick because all I can smell are cigarettes. I got way too much second hand smoke last night. It’s not in my hair or on my clothes. It’s in my lungs. How freaking gross. Never going to be in that situation again. Keeping my distance from now on. Screw mingling. Nausea is how I’m ending my night. Also a femara side effect I think. (Maybe?) Or a mixture of that and the smoke sickness.

Halloween we have another party to attend. With hopefully more people that we actually know. Hopefully with less smoking or more of an option to escape too. Maybe, I’ll even ovulate. 🙂

Day 13: Season

Capture Your Grief
Day 13: Season
Spring is the season I got pregnant in. Spring is when I had to have the methotrexate shot to dissolve the pregnancy. Summer is when my tube burst and it ended officially.
So spring is the season I associate with my baby and being pregnant. It is supposed to be a season of new beginnings. I haven’t gone through a spring since the ectopic so only time will tell how I deal with it.

Day 12: Music

Capture Your Grief

Day 12: Music



So I’ve decided that I’m only doing the capture your grief projects that I can do. I realized lately that some don’t really apply to me or I can’t get my own photos to go with them. Or I just don’t feel like going into that topic that day.

Music is one I can do. I’ve already posted lyrics to a song that struck a chord with me this week.

Today’s post is part of the song Halo by Beyonce. It’s about her miscarriage. This one reminds me of my ectopic experience for several reasons. 1) Listening to the song and the story behind it finally helped Mr. Big feel our loss. He needed it. I needed him to feel it finally. It took him about 4 months to get there. 2) The first paragraph resonates with me. My loss helped me really understand just how much I want to be a mother. Our pea was only here with me for a short time, but in those 2 months I managed to get attached. It was a pea, a cluster of cells, but it broke down my walls. It was more than that to me. He was my baby.

Whole Damn Year

I heard this song on my way to work this evening. Whole Damn Year by Mary J. Blige. Certain parts of the lyrics sum up my whole damn year.

“And yes, I’m good on the surface,
but I’m a mess, I’m a mess underneath
See winter took the most of my heart
The spring punched right in the stomach,
Summer came looking for blood,
And by autumn, I was left with nothing!”

Winter, I was struggling with depression and fixing issues in my marriage. Heart.

Spring, I found out I was pregnant, and it was ectopic. Stomach.

Summer, my tube ruptured and the pregnancy was removed. Blood.

Autumn, my body is emptier and not functioning. I have no baby, and no chance of having one at the present moment. Nothing.

Whole. Damn. Year.

Day 6: Books

Capture Your Grief
Day 6: Books


I originally thought I had nothing for today. Yesterday really since I’m behind. I love to read. Mr. Big and I have entirely too many books. But none on child loss/pregnancy loss/grief. What I read that helped me are your stories. So my photo is a small sample of some of the blogs I’m following. Thank you all!