I Will Try Again Tomorrow

June 4, 2015

Here's what Courage looks like to me:

I know it could be worse. I know we could have a much harder time than this. I know other people struggle for years trying to just conceive a baby, and sometimes they don't. I know there are countless fertility treatments out there, 'minor league' ones like Clomid, and 'major league' ones like IVF. So what does taking 10 vitamins a day count as- the 'pee-wee league'? Not even extreme enough to be counted as 'little league'. 

We are on Day 2 of taking all of these vitamins- the ones on the left are for Bean, and the ones on the right are for me, plus a powder you mix with a liquid multivitamin (it absorbs better than regular pills), and progesterone cream, which I will start next month for days 12-27 of my cycle. All that after I unexpectedly got a pap smear and blood work done, plus I'm set up to have more blood work done on day 21 of this cycle. 

I feel crappy. 

Maybe it's our P90X3 workouts, which we skipped today. Maybe it's allergies. Maybe it's the vitamins and the thought of getting pregnant and having another miscarriage. 

I don't want to do it. 

I will be grateful to be pregnant if- IF- it works out with a healthy live birth. 

Let's take a step back. 

I will be grateful to be pregnant if I can get to the 2nd Trimester with no complications. 14 weeks- no, scratch that. 17 weeks. A number I haven't seen since Abigail.

I can take nothing for granted here. Hearing stories of friends with stillborn babies, or friends with live births but their children are diagnosed with a rare condition that is un-treatable and means their child will never have a life outside his parents' home. 

How is it that we carelessly go into this process assuming we will have the exact outcome we want?

How is it?

The most important person in the world to me died because she and her husband decided to try and have a baby. And they were so lucky- they got pregnant the first time they tried. Literally. 

And then she died, and so did her son. She would not have died if she had not been pregnant. 

Why do we torture ourselves for this process that is not fun, and that can be so dangerous? It's a miracle. A beautiful human life is created out of our love for each other. It is the most profound act of love, to decide to risk everything for this. 

I've really been missing Bud the past two weeks- there's no real reason, no particular dates that jump out for us around this time. I just want to hear her voice, to call and talk about stupid stuff that nobody wants to listen to because I know she will listen and respond, and make me elaborate on the stupid stuff until I don't need to think about it anymore. And I will do the same for her. Even if I shouldn't talk on the phone at work, I will talk for hours if it helps her. We will discuss the random dreams we have, and what the meanings could be.

I had a dream last night, and I don't remember much except she was there, and it was like all of the others- she doesn't talk, she's just there with me. In the dream I got a tattoo, which I've been planning to do- I planned to get one this past weekend for the one year anniversary of the loss of Baby B: 3 stars on my wrist to go with the poem that helped most in my grieving process- 3 stars for the potentially 3 children I conceived. 

But in the dream I was drunk when I went to the tattoo parlor (alone) and ended up with a huge, ugly, flowering tattoo all over my right forearm. I hated it and had no idea why I allowed the inexperienced tattoo artist to put it on my skin permanently. In the dream, I showed it to Bud, who didn't say anything, but I knew she thought I made the decision too soon. 

She's the friend that was so excited to go to a tattoo parlor with me in Austin on a Girls Weekend, when I planned to get a long quote tattooed on my foot in Donna's handwriting. She couldn't wait to watch me get it done. The artist there recommended I think about it and explained that the quote would be bigger than I thought- it would cover my entire foot- and wouldn't look good in 10-15 years- he wanted me to love it for life. 

Then, for no real reason. the tattoo on the anniversary of Baby B's loss didn't work out- the artist didn't email me back until 4pm the day of, and I didn't feel comfortable just walking in and randomly getting a tattoo. It needed to have the same weight for me as losing the babies did- I needed it to be planned, with a set appointment, a sacred moment in my life, just as the miscarriages were. 

I've had the thought that maybe the tattoo didn't work out because I'm meant to have another miscarriage, and I wouldn't want to have to go back and add a star later. 

Or that I should wait until I know I'm done with kids and get something else that symbolizes both my living children (plural) and my losses. 

Or that I shouldn't choose to have my losses defined in such a public location (my wrist) for me to explain to everyone who asks. Of course I don't know which way it will turn out. 

So we are taking vitamins. We are taking more pills than we have ever taken, hoping to squash any doubts and fears by swallowing tons of pills. I'm blase about the fact that I'm writing this now,  knowing it will not be released until a future date, but this is my therapy. I'm struggling with the decision to do all of this work with no guarantees.

We are only laying the groundwork now for when we try again at the beginning of August or later- depending on my cycles. We plan to have 2 months/ cycles of vitamin taking, and progesterone evening out my hormones before we start. But I don't start the progesterone until my next cycle, so it will be awhile. 

Not to mention the fact that I created a new tag for this post: 'Pregnancy #4 Letters'. 

Blase.

Assuming there will be a Pregnancy #4.