Not for the fertility minded......

This blog has absolutely nothing at all to do with baby making, or thinking about baby making, or sperm counts or doctors appointments or trying to make a marriage work through this give and take of infertility treatment. This blog is instead about the beauty of family; the love that surpasses friendships and distances and family feuds that go so far back nobody can even trace them. This blog is about cousins that grew up more like sisters, friendships that form from a childhood full of grandmothers canning fig preserves and playing every afternoon under said fig tree.

For my 30th birthday all I wanted to do was sit my ass on the beach. The ocean has a way of healing all my wounds, both old and new. And to be honest my 30th birthday is a wound, deep in the knowledge that my life is nothing like I thought it would be when I was an innocent 18 year old debutante. Yes I know that 30 is young. Yes I know that half my life hasn't even been lived yet. But still.....30? Shit......

So here I am in Boca Raton, Florida for my 30th birthday. I have been here since Monday....six days to slowly peel the scab off the wound of thirty. I am here with my cousin, at her home, with her children and her husband and her dogs and cats and her life. Goo Goo Dolls is playing so loudly I can't hear my fingers hit the keyboard; her babies are playing air guitar and dancing in their diapers; loving this moment they will probably not remember in two weeks. ( But this moment is forever in my catalogue.) We have been at the beach all day long with each other along with some new friends of theirs, plus some friends that I have known so I long I can't even remember when we met. I am so saturated with love and satisfaction right now I can't even see the screen through my tears. I'm not feeling the sting of a childless 30; instead I am feeling the overwhelming love of family and earth and God (and to be 100 % honest, some vodka mixed with grapefruit juice).

Mel and my brother and me had a rather tumultuous childhood; caused indirectly (I am sure) by our respective parents' divorces. The three of us spent the majority of our elementary years at our paternal grandparents house watching our grandmother be June Cleaver ( the real life version, too. Not some made up Desperate Housewife's shit) and that was all of our's foundation for life and love and marriage and family and work ethic and really everything. The three of us grew up like siblings; with all the love and hate and competition that true siblings have. Mel and my brother convinced me one time that in order to drink Coca-Cola I had to eat cat food; I didn't even like Coke at that time in my life but I still ate cat food just to prove that in fact I was not a cry-baby like they kept calling me but instead I was a cat food eating, non-diaper wearing warrior that they didn't think I was. Throughout my life I have continued to be that person with the cat food and the coke. Give me something you think I can't do and buddy, I will prove you wrong in ten seconds.

Throughout our life our grandfather, or paw-paw as we called him (some of our cousins called him pontoon) was the epitome of the man that life calls for. He quit school in 5th grade to work on the family farm; he fought against the Nazi's in World War II, he started a business out of his brother's garage when he returned home, battle weary and already a father and needing a way to support his family (which by the way, my brother and father still run. It's called Johnson Auto Electric on Newnan Road in Carrollton.) He watched a black man die on the train tracks on Dixie Street when he was a little boy; the man had been run over by a passing train and everyone just stood there and watched this man slowly bleed to death instead of calling for help just because this man was black. When my grandfather finally started to succumb to Alzheimer's disease in 2001 he still talked about this most powerful and unjust day. Paw-paw taught himself how to do literally everything; draw, paint, photograph, develop photography, make machines that work on car parts. Read, write, love, worship a fair and just Lord, raise a family, trade stocks, put money in a 401k, make home movies. Literally everything, that man taught himself how to do it all. He took part in every moment of mine and my lucky cousins life; there at every basketball game and homecoming court walk and debutante ball and wedding give away ( except for mine, he had been dead for a couple of years. He was still there, though.)

The point of all this rambling, finally.......

Melissa and I have weathered some pretty significant literal and physical storms together. We have gone through life together, and for people that understand what 30 years means you know how much crap this can contain. Yet here we are.....adults. Loving each other so much it hurts. Staying at one's house for a solid week and not getting sick of each other. Getting a balloon and a cream filled cupcake for breakfast on the morning of my 30th. Knowing when the other is too sad to cry, or talk, or dance, or listen or just be. We were taught to be so good to each other from our grandparents. They would be so proud to see how much we love each other, how dedicated we are to staying close and keeping our family heritage strong. Our grandmother would love that Mel and I both make her beloved dressing for Thanksgiving and Christmas. They would love that Mel makes family videos that she and I watch and cry over. They would maybe (hopefully) laugh at how drunk we get together and cuss my husband out for taking random photos of us. They would just be happy that here we are; loving each other and being family.

Thanks, Melissa and Jason for making my 30th so unforgettable (Hard Rock???????) I love you both so much. And the only people I know that can verbalize this love is WSP.........

"After all that I've been through you're the only one that matters. You've never left me in the dark here on my own; I can hear the water rising, let me be your ladder, I promise you'll be dry, never be alone."

With love-

Betsy Danielle

It's not you, it's me.....

One of the hardest things about being a (thus far) infertile couple is the inevitable occurrence of everyone else around you getting pregnant. Pro-creation is the most natural part of being a human; it is the ultimate survival skill. So the fact that most couples in their late twenties and early thirties begin to think about life outside of keg parties and sleeping in on Saturdays and start thinking instead of mural painted bedroom walls and tiny feet pattering around their house is not all that shocking. It is instinctual, it is spiritual, it is the quintessential beat of the time marches on drum.

However, when you find yourself on the hostess end of all the baby showers time after time that drum only represents the glaring fact that your body doesn't want to march to the same beat, even if your heart and mind do. The grief that comes with hearing for the first time that your best friend is expecting is unlike any grief that can be explained.

Because it is happy grief.

The first time I got to experience this delightful juxtaposition was about 33 months ago when one of my dearest friends called to tell me she was not having painful ovulation as she thought but was in fact pregnant. Graham and I had only been trying for about six months but I already knew, just like I know that 2 + 2 = 4, that we were going to have some trouble in this department. I know that she was also in a pickle of emotions; excited about the life inside her belly but also dreading how the news was going to affect me. Her announcement literally took my breath away. I instantly started crying; out of happiness for her and the beauty of it all; out of sadness that it wasn't me on her end of the conversation. I had to hang up the phone just to get a grip. I cried for about ten minutes, gathered myself together, and called her back. Then I was able to share my excitement with her, because I was excited. I was able to ask all the right questions about due date, how she was feeling, how excited she was, what a surprise it was because they weren't even trying. We paddled through that murky shit together and came out on the other end stronger because of it. The fact that she even had to think about my feelings at such a happy time for her still breaks my heart, I am literally crying as I type this tonight. But she understood that I wasn't crying because of her, I was crying because of me. I was happily grieving for my gain and my loss.

Recently another one of our closest couple friends came out of the pregnancy closet. It was just like when my dearest friend told me, I just couldn't catch my breath. We were at a bar-b-q at their house and I kept having to go to the bathroom and take long, deep breaths to keep myself from completely losing it. But they understood, having gone through this with me through other pregnant announcements, that I just needed a few minutes to grieve for myself then I would come out and be happy. The three of us actually stood in their kitchen and cried together, one of the most bittersweet memories of my friendship with them. And just like before, once I got the crying out we had the best night talking about gooey baby stuff and names and renovation projects to get their house ready for baby time. Sharing in her pregnancy is one of the highlights of my life right now and I can't wait to meet their baby and take part in her (I think it's a her) life.

The point of this post was to try and explain some of the pain and happiness and overall whirlwind of emotions that goes through the mind and heart of someone in my position. Others who have never been through something like this probably don't understand how I could selfishly cry and think only of myself at such a happy time for my best friends. To be honest it is hard for me to understand sometimes, too. I am lucky enough to have friends that try and understand what I am going through, friends that know my tears are mine to cry and in a few minutes a smile will be for them.

So if you know someone going through the same thing, just keep this post in mind. Don't be offended when that person freaks out for a few minutes. Be gentle when breaking the news. Think of how you would feel if you were in their shoes. Keep your heart and mind and arms wide open for that happily grieving person to fall into for awhile. Trust me, it will be a joyful hug very soon.

With love-

Betsy Danielle

It's a New Day, Folks!!

Yesterday was a bad, bad day. I stayed in my pj's literally all day long and cried and watched

(of all things) A Baby Story on TLC. (what was I thinking? really? watching pregnant women give birth all day? recipe for disaster, but whatever, I made it through.) Everyone is allowed to fall apart sometimes, and yesterday was my time.

But today is a brand new day!! I woke up this morning happy that I am alive and that I have such an awesome partner to go through this bullshit with. I woke up with the knowledge that we will be parents one day come hell or high water. I felt grateful that people who specialize in getting people like Graham and me pregnant exist, that they devote their studies and skills to creating happiness in baby form. I felt excited that we didn't put all our eggs in one basket (or uterus :) ) and we have more chances left at becoming parents. I feel confident that our time will come! We are awesome people, we have a fantastic support group in our friends and family, we have more love to give then all the VH1 reality dating shows combined (minus the scabies and such), and we are going to be the best parents on the planet, no offense to those of you who already think you are. We're gonna win that prize. Yes, we have some hurdles to cross. I dread going through this dance-off with my emotions again. But I also know that when we finally do get two pink lines, it will be so much more special because of all the hard work we have put in.

So thanks everyone. Thanks for the e-mails and the calls of support. Thanks for all the "It's going to happen when the time is right...." Thanks to my peeps who keep it real and just say "This shit blows." Thanks for the prayers and the hugs and the tears. I love you all!!

With love-

Betsy Danielle

Sad Sad Day

There isn't much to say today except I started my period. So long hopes and dreams for this month, we'll try you again later.

With Love-

Betsy Danielle

AAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

These are the facts as of today, July 21st 2010 at 12:01p.m. I am exhausted; mentally, physically, emotionally, any way that exhaustion can occur that is what I am. Last week I was cool. I wasn't overly stressed, I wasn't obsessing over the what if's and what if not's. I worked a lot, took walks with Graham and the dogs, went to the Farmer's Market, you know just things that kept my mind occupied. This week, however, has been completely different!!! I haven't slept a full night since Monday. My nerves are fried, literally. I am becoming a PMS hypochondriac. Every symptom, every little itch or twinge or ache is becoming a sure sign that I am about to start my period. If one more person tells me to just not think about it I swear to you and Jesus and that person that my Southern Hostility (aka REDNECK) side is going to come out and I am going to punch said person in the face. That is like telling an anorexic to not think about exercising and think about eating a cheeseburger instead.

This middle ground, let's call it Purgatory for the Infertile, is no place to be I promise. There are so many emotions I don't know what to do with them all! I am days away from finding out from the doctor and at this point I can even pee on a stick and find out for myself. Yet here I am, not wanting to know just yet. I am sticking my head in the sand until I either start my period or the doctor tells me I am pregnant. Somehow this Purgatory is becoming my security blanket from the inevitable revelation; I'm not ready to rip the band aid off yet.

My friends that have called me or texted me or e-mailed me everyday have helped me so much. One friend just says, Hey, just wanting to check with you. Another might talk about things going on in her life to keep my mind off of what is going on with mine. Another friend has texted me almost everyday to say that she loves me and is thinking of me all the time. That is what is helping me get through this. Knowing how much love people have for Graham and I and how anxious and involved everyone is for us has made Graham and I feel stronger. Thank you all. It has meant the world to us.

Now, one more thing. If you are going to pray, please throw in there that I need some sleep. If I could just have a clear mind for one night and sleep the whole night through I would feel so much better!! Keep your fingers crossed, and check back in a couple of days!

With love-

Betsy Danielle

Sexy panties included.....

Saturday morning I got up, took a long, hot shower, rubbed smell good lotion all over my body, donned by sexiest pair of panties and a black dress that definitely showed some cleavage, and did my sexy eyes make up. I hummed "Let's Get it On" and brushed up against Graham while swaying my hips to the tune in my head. I felt sexy, I felt flirtatious; I was ready to put my feet up in some cold stir-ups while a strange man injected millions of Grahams best sperm directly into my uterus!

Neither one of us were nervous or excited or anything, really. It just felt like waking up to go to a normal doctors appointment. When we got there I couldn't believe how many couples were sitting in the lobby, young couples at that. The lobby of a fertility clinic is the strangest place you will ever be in your life. Everyone is trying their best to look relaxed, like "Hey no biggie, we got this". But there is definitely a current of desperation running through that place. And nobody talks to each other. I'm thinking to myself this is the only time that I will be in a room with this many people that know exactly what I am going through, but nobody is talking about it! I guess the conversation would go something like this: Person A, "Hey, why are you here?" Person B replies "Oh, we can't get pregnant on our own. You?" Person A, "Yeah, us too." And that's that, folks. Maybe that's why nobody talks, cause there isn't much to say about it.

Anyway, on to my sexy panties.

Graham did his part, then we had to wait for an hour or so for the tech to scrutinize and clean and select the best sperm that Graham had to offer. They called us back into a room and told me to get undressed from the waist down then lay on the bed. What? The man that gets me pregnant doesn't even get to see my sexy panties that I wore just for this occasion? Oh well. I just showed them to Graham instead. At least he got a kick out of it. The doctor came in and said, "Well, Graham's sperm count wasn't that high today. We were only able to get 3 million out of his sample. Some people can get pregnant with only 3 million, so we will keep our fingers crossed." That was pretty disappointing I have to say. He made sure that Graham's social and name matched the syringe full of sperm he had in his hand (that would suck if they got me pregnant with someone else's baby), showed me how the syringe worked, then got right to business. The whole thing literally took less than 5 minutes, and honestly I have had sex that hurt worse than the insemination itself. I did have some pretty serious cramping later in the day and evening, but in my head I picture a war in my uterus that involves 3 million sperm attacking one or two lone eggs. That would make anybody cramp.

So now the countdown begins. I am going to spend the next 14 days working, exercising, spending time with my wonderful friends and family, blogging, praying, cooking, eating, having some spontaneous sex with my husband, and try to keep my head off the day we find out if it worked or not. Ya'll pray with me, if you are the praying type. Pray for me to have strength if the news isn't what we want. Pray we don't have six babies. Pray Graham and I can keep our sanity this next 14 days. Keep checking my blog, I am sure I will have plenty to vent about.

With love-

Betsy Danielle

Getting to this point....

So if you are reading this blog chances are you know what all Graham and I have been going through to conceive a child. Or maybe you had no idea that we have been trying for three years. Either way.... Who knew it would be this hard? All you ever hear your whole entire life, especially as a teenager, is how easy it is to get pregnant!! All it takes is one time, you can get pregnant without even having intercourse, blahblahblah. I remember the first few weeks after I lost my virginity I was so freaked out that I was pregnant just because of the overload of "scare you shitless info" from sex- ed, my church, my parents, etc. Or I guess in our case, spermless. If I had only known...

Really, until the day my GYN looked me in the eye and said, "Betsy, it is not going to happen on it's own. You have some issues stacked against you. You have to go see a fertility specialist" I was in total denial that it wasn't going to happen on it's own!! Yes, Graham had three eyed, chasing their own tails sperm. Yes I have endometriosis and rupturing cysts on my ovaries. But so what, I thought. People overcome odds all the time!! As a matter of fact, my GYN had already told me halfway through the second year of free-willy getting it on that we needed to see the fertility specialist. Trying to be the optimist, I completely ignored her. Ha. One day I will learn that being completely stubborn and mule headed is not always the best way to go.

ANYWAY....I am sure that you are wondering about Graham's special sperm? I need to throw in here somewhere that Graham was taking a medication for his arthritis that depleted his sperm count, made the ones he did have "abnormal in appearance", slow as hell and literally chase their own tails. Once this was discovered he came off that medication and we are proud to say that his sperm seem to be on the right path, finally. Now if we can just get me fixed!!

Here we are now; three years later, still no baby, at the fertility specialist what feels like every other day. I have taken a weeks worth of hormones that make me produce tons of possible Kish Jr's and I have to take a shot in my belly tomorrow to make all these eggs release into the wild terrain of my uterus. On Saturday Graham gets to watch some dirty porn in a mood lit room with a comfy chair and give the lab tech his goods while I have my blood drawn AGAIN, (third time this week), get another ultrasound to check on the status of my female parts, then lay on a table while they literally turkey baste his sperm into me. In 12 days we go back for the results, and honestly this is the day I am dreading the most. If they say it worked, did it work one time or three times or more? If they say it didn't work am I going to crumple up into a ball on the floor of the exam room and cry every last heartbroken tear I have ever had? How many times can we ride this roller coaster called infertility? It is this element of the unknown, this loss of control of the entire situation, that made me want to pretend that this was not about to happen to us. But happening it is, whether we wanted it this way or not. And we are both trying so hard to embrace this experience, make it our own with what little control we have, be humorous about it when we are both scared spermless, relax, and try not to what if everything to death. Because that can make you crazy!!

I needed a way to vent, a way to release my hormone and anxiety induced emotions without crying all the time. A friend of mine who went through fertility treatment said she had a blog through her experience, and I thought that was a great idea for me! I love to write, and maybe somebody out there needs to read what other women and couples are going through. Hence, this blog. I hope you enjoy it. I hope that soon we can all smile together with some good news for Graham and me. And if not, maybe we can all cry together, pick me up off the exam room floor, and move on to the next step....

With love-