Tres Jolie

Here I go again on my own. Going down the only road I’ve ever known. Like a twister I was born………………….. Ok, ok. So this is NOT the only road I’ve ever known and I am most certainly NOT going down it alone. I just cant resist from singing that song anytime I hear the words “Here I go again.” On my own.

As we end November and come into month 17th of our trying to conceive journey I can’t help but think of all the ups and downs we have experienced recently. I wouldn’t compare it to a roller coaster simply because in our house roller coasters are a blast and only last roughly 2.4 minutes. Not this journey. No fun and not fast. Would I change it if I could though? Probably not. I know that the Big Man Upstairs (we capitalize that, right?) has His own plans and His own will and I wouldn’t want to mess with that. What if this is just a small piece of the master plan? A journey that is meant to teach us to appreciate our little (soon to be) miracle? What if this leads us to helping others that have been through similar situations? This, somehow, was meant to be.

From the ages of 12-19 I knew everything. I knew I was going to be married by 21. Have my first child at 23 and my second at 25. Two boys to be exact and if I was going to have a third (a girl) I would have her by 27. All 2 years apart. HA! I laugh at that girl now. Who did she think she was trying to PLAN her future? If I only knew then what I know now I wouldn’t have been so pompous. Silly girl. (Yes I am aware of the time lapse between 19 and when I got married at 26. I went through a punk rock, player by trade, marriage is for the birds kind of phase. Just excuse that naive time period please.) Now here I am just a few weeks from my 29th birthday, after being married just under 3 years and still no little one. Funny how things work out isn’t it??

If you know anything about this journey or have been following along, then you know of all our Clomid Chaos. Either way, here is a quick breakdown followed by the newest of new news.

After our ectopic pregnancy in October of 2009 my body stopped ovulating. My regular OBGYN told me that she would only do 3 rounds of fertility treatments before sending me to the fertility specialist. This is how it’s gone:

First try: 50mg - No luck.

Second try: 100mg - No luck.

Third try: 150mg - DING DING DING. We have a winner.

(CAUTION: Words like intercourse and cycle ahead……….Read on at your own risk)

There it was. A positive LH test the morning of a day in which we shared a hotel room with some friends. Two beds, one room, two couples. Never the less this was business. My best friend Farrah reminded me that this was a job. Our job. It meant business and we needed to do the deed. Alas we did but to no avail it wasn’t in the oh so famous “window” or better yet they just missed the bus. However, something happened similar to last month and I started my cycle AGAIN on my own. I know that may mean nothing to most females but to a woman who feels like her body has let everyone down- I was more than thrilled. 31 days, on the dot. Like clockwork.

Now that this has happened two months in a row and I finally ovulated this last month I can pretty much pin point when (assuming I do) I will ovulate in December. (Ready for the zinger??) And when I do, Paul will be in New York. That’s right ladies and gentleman: This process is mocking me. All is well however as I talked to my Doctor who couldn’t have been happier. She was thrilled with all of the new developments and we discussed my options. With the advice of my OBGYN and discussions with my husband, we decided to take this month OFF of the Clomid in order to determine if my body can pull it off on its own. Paul will be gone anyhow so if it doesn’t - then nothing was missed and we know to go back to the 150mg in January. The Doc even stated that she NEVER, EVER prescribes a fertility treatment to a patient more than 3 times in ANY situation………….but for me, for me she has a “feeling”. She is breaking her own rules because she too knows that THIS is the time.

So stay tuned and know that I appreciate all of your kind words and encouragement. Prayers and good ju-ju are still need more than ever and I adore all of you for sending them our way!!!

First of all, my sincerest apologies for not posting as of late. It’s been a little loco at the Casa de Daniels and I just wasn’t ready to update on the Clomid Chaos for the sake of jinxing. So here we are now, I’ve completely neglected to let all of my “Race for Baby Daniels” on-lookers know what’s been going down. Cycle 2 of Clomid (100mg) did not work last month. I did not ovulate according to the lack of digital happy faces around my house. However, a little surprise came this month for the first time since February - BY ITSELF!! No Provera, nothing induced- Just my body finally deciding to be normal. Hoooooray! (I was excited as Margaret in the famous Judy Blume novel!) This my friends, gives me the MOST hope that I will ovulate this month on my third round of Clomid (150mg!). I wont even go as far as to type the “what’s next” options that my doctor has given us if this round doesn’t work because, well……………. it’s going to work, ok??

After gearing up this month to take Clomid cycle days 5-9, I of course mapped out the possible days of ovulation. (This is the part where you remember that The Mister just left a couple weeks ago for FOUR (not three), count them- FOUR weeks!). Our window of opportunity fell a mere 4 days before Paul is scheduled to come home on November 10th. So what do I do? Well I do what any normal baby wanting lady would do and planned on taking a day off work and flying up to NYC for the day in order to…………ahem…. Make ze bebe. The Mister had a better idea and called me this morning saying that he was going to take a few days off and fly back on November 7th giving all the time in the world. PHEW- Could you imagine waking up, taking a test, seeing the happy face- Then dropping a grand on a ticket and calling into work just to fly to New York City for………………..ahem…..(you know where this is going). What a life saver that hubby-o-mine turned out to be.

So once again please keep the prayers coming, the fingers crossed and send all the good ju-ju our way!!

With today being Pregnancy and Infant Loss Day I thought it would be an appropriate time to tell the story of our loss. Just a heads up that if you are a male friend, co-worker, brother or just someone that doesn’t want to hear about such words as “cycle”…………………….. Move along little doggy. Move along.

We had been trying to conceive since July 25^th, 2009 when Paul left back to New York in mid September. With barely two months of trying under our belts we weren’t too concerned with ovulation charting, tests or temps. We were just a couple of “newlyweds” trying to create life. I had started my cycle just before he left which obviously meant I wasn’t pregnant. After coming off of my birth control and never really having consistent cycles I wasn’t too surprised to see that I had been bleeding for over 10 days. Around day 17 I began to freak out. Paul was gone and there I was wondering what was going on with my body. Was this normal? Surely I wasn’t pregnant. Still to this day I don’t know what it was that caused me NOT to call my OBGYN and instead go to the store and buy a pregnancy test, but I did. I actually bought a pregnancy test and a bowl of gumbo but that’s another story.

Expecting the test to be negative (as they always were before), I took the test and went to eat my gumbo while I waited for the results. I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER forget the feeling I felt when I saw those two little pink lines. The crazy part is………. I was so incredibly excited that I never once thought of the negative possibilities. All I knew was what I wanted to know: That I, Jolie Daniels was pregnant.

I took a pic of the test and although you aren’t supposed to tell anyone until it’s confirmed, my best friend didn’t fall under that category. I sent the picture to her right away since Paul would be asleep far away for another 2 hours. I tossed out the gumbo as I was entirely too excited to eat. I must have jumped and bounced around my house by myself silently screaming for a solid 20 minutes before I got worried about the baby and sat down. I also must have called Paul’s phone a good 200 times because when he woke up and saw the missed calls he rang me in complete panic. It didn’t take all of 5 seconds before I screamed “I’M PREGNANT!!!”  I’m not sure if he believed me at first or if he was just smart enough to know that being pregnant and bleeding for 17 days wasn’t a good sign. I scheduled an appointment first thing the next morning and headed in to find out what was going on. When I first got there I took a pregnancy test and waiting in the exam room for the results. The nurse returned and immediately starting talking about what all of the possibilities were: heavy spotting during first trimester, miscarriage or an ectopic pregnancy. My response: “I’m sorry, was the test positive or not?” The nurse quietly shook her head yes. This was my first sign.

I was sent up immediately to get an ultrasound. On my way out, the second nurse gave me a random hug. This was my second sign. I called Paul on the way to the ultrasound and told him what was going on. I was calm, cool and collective. I still didn’t believe that anything negative was going to come out of this. I climbed up on the table in that cold dark room with my husband a million miles away (or at least it seemed). The tech came in and started the ultra sound. There it was. A beautiful, tiny, 7 week old fetus staring right back at me. I knew it was because the nurse clicked on all four sides and labeled it PREGNANCY. This was the first time that I wasn’t excited. I just laid there in a daze while the doctor entered. He looked at the screen and a few whispers later he turned to me and said, “Unfortunately, what we know now is that you have an ectopic pregnancy in your right tube.” I was already crying at this point, I know because I could feel the tears running down my cheeks, but that was the only thing I could feel. “I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear this morning, I’ll give you a few minutes by yourself.”

I don’t know that there was a darker, colder, lonelier room in the world that morning. I cried, I sobbed, I tried to pull it together. The optimism that was with me just 45 minutes early a measly two stories down must have been left in the elevator on my way up- I was brutally aware now of our situation. I was monitored, poked and prodded until they told me that I was going to have to terminate the pregnancy with 2-3 doses of Methotrexate – A form of chemo therapy. My appointment was the next morning.

I arrived in tears of course after having to spend the night before telling my husband, my Mom and my best friend that my body had failed. That I was about to have to terminate the one thing I had wanted so badly. On October 15^th, 2009 I received two huge syringes filled with neon yellow chemical that was designed to kill off every living cell within my body, including that of a child’s. The next 3 weeks were horrible. I alone had to deal with the side effects of the chemo, the emotional effects of the loss and the mental effects of the process that was taking place inside of me. Thanks to the friends, family and amazing husband that I have we have healed both physically and emotionally.

The doctors cleared us to start trying again in February of this year but only if we “were ready.” We couldn’t have been more ready and still are. As most of you know we have continued to try this entire year and will do so until our blessing from God arrives. His will, His timing. The pregnancy and termination have caused me to stop ovulating and I have now finished my 2^nd round of fertility treatments. I am tired and frustrated, but I will not let it stop me. I will stay strong and carry on.

I feel for anyone that has ever had to experience any type of loss, especially that of an infant or child. I’ve said before and I’ll say it again: It comforts me to know that I’m not alone, but saddens me to know that ANYONE would ever have to feel such pain.

Just because we never met you doesn’t mean we didn’t love you.

So I’ve been absent, I know. My apologies. I’ve been busy, Paul has been home, and I’ve had some internet issues. Something else that I’ve done is NOT OVULATED!!!! Hmph. Well, there are still a few days left but I’ve been very “Hey, let’s all just get negative now!” lately and have (almost) emotionally given up. Every morning I have to take my LH test I totally cop out and say “I’m not doing it today. What’s the point if it’s just going to be negative?”. Of course I still take it, because deep down I just know it’s going to be the day. Tomorrow will be the day. Yes.

Moving onto a lighter note……………………ACL is in 2 days. About time. I’ve been waiting for this for a while. For those of you non music fans (do those exist? really?) ACL is the Austin City Limits Festival that takes place here in Austin, TX over 3 days and has over 130 bands down in Zilker Park (the “moon tower” party in Dazed & Confused was filmed there). The weather here in Texas has been sensational (although entirely too cold for moi) so this weekend is sure to be a success. Prepare yourself for many-a-acl posts come Friday. And who knows, maybe Friday will be “the day”. I will totally skeev my kid out and let them know that they were conceived during the one and only fest. I’m sure they’d love to know these things.