Many of my friends have pointed out how Facebook, while a great way to keep in touch with old friends, can be a source of stress, anxiety, and disappointment. It is sometimes hard to see everyone else having the time of their lives, posting the highlights of their weekends, and sharing the adorable moments that their family are sharing. But, c'mon. Let's get real. It is time to take off the Facebook Goggles.







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For any of you who aren't Facebook fans, you should be. If you like me on Facebook, not only can you be informed of fan appreciation giveaways (20 dollar Amazon Gift Card will be going to one of my likers), you would also know the intimate details of my current downward spiral of emotions.

I was told by Doug's doctor to not try to conceive for two years. Two years! That is 730 days! Joey will be 3 years old. Gavin will be 5 1/2. But more importantly, I will be 37. An that is only when he thinks I can start trying. What if it takes a while? I know that that isn't a huge age gap between children but I am looking forward to having our children and then being able to start planning the fun family vacations when we don't have to worry about pregnancy, newborns, sleepless nights, and 18,000 pounds of baby gear.

I want more kids. Is this greedy of me? Some people have none and here I am being a big 'ol cry baby about only having two. I know that there are some of you out there who probably think I should be grateful for what I have and move on. Maybe you are right. But, right now, all I can think about is my grandmother. She had 6 children, is almost 99 years young, and all of her children are still living. I want what she has. I want to grow old and have children, grandchildren, and god willing, great grandchildren all around me. I love the two adorable little boys I have, but I just feel like I am missing big chunks of my future.

Now, let me get a bit depressing for just a moment. I have one other fear that I don't think I have ever voiced-even to Doug. I have mentioned that Doug is 8 years older than I am. Prior to Doug's diagnosis, I have had this lingering fear (or maybe realization) that Doug will probably pass before I do. I have never been good at being alone and especially with his current health situation, I am even more fearful of this. I want to have a big family so that if Doug goes before me, I am literally surrounded by family. I want to be just like Grandma who has so many grandchildren and great grandchildren that she literally loses count of how many there are.

I am really hurting right now. I am so confused, hurt, and sad right now. And on top of all of the heartache about more children, I feel incredibly guilty for feeling confused, hurt and sad. I want more than anything for Doug to be healthy and if I could trade no more children for Doug to never feel sick, to have a healthy liver, to feel how he did 5 short months ago even, I would do it in a split second. But, since no matter how many children we have, he will always have this disease, I want more children.

I feel like I am talking in circles. I am also realizing that this is going to be one of those post that is more for me than it is for you so I apologize for that. I just needed to write tonight without concern for typos, grammar, or even proper subject matter. I just need to cry tonight. I need to feel sorry for myself. I need to let the tissues accumulate next to me and just keep going.

I know God will lead me but that doesn't mean that I won't hurt tonight.

Having a hard time seeing how these three things could all be in one post? Oh, are you ever in for a fun ride!?

At about the same time as Doug and I put a TV in our bedroom, my obsession with all things crime TV began. I like having the TV on for background noise but I learned that certain shows would prevent me from falling asleep since they were too flashy or entertaining. With crime TV shows, I could count on a few things. First, someone would be killed. The manner of death would fluctuate but the plot was pretty easy to anticipate. Second, despite the subject matter, the narration was like being read a bedtime story. A very creepy, mysterious, cliff hanger of a bedtime story. And third, if I was still awake by the end of the story, I could feel like I solved the mystery. Spoiler alert! It is either the spouse, the lover, or the lover's spouse. Mystery solved.

One night, as I was drifting off to dream land listening to the familiar story of a husband on trial for the murder of his wife, I heard something that made me sit up in bed. Despite the volume being turned to an almost inaudible level, I recognized a name from a friend in high school. It was a common name, but then I heard her voice. It was unmistakably the voice of a long lost high school friend. I sat up and looked at her and as she sat on the witness stand testifying about the forensics of the case, I saw her in the backdrop of our former school. I heard her laugh. I remembered everything. She was famous! Okay, really, she was only on TV for about 8 seconds but I have never claimed to be the most rational of people. I was so excited to see someone on TV that I knew, I was practically bouncing in the bed trying to wake up Doug so I could point her out. By the transitive property, I was famous too! Doug didn't seem to think so. He was mostly annoyed that I woke him up out of a dead sleep to tell him that I saw a girl I went to high school with whose name I had never even mentioned before in a conversation. I, on the other hand, couldn't wait to look her up on facebook and tell her I saw her on TV and ask for an autograph. Hmm... she never did accept my friend request.

When Joey was a newborn, Gavin and I had gotten into the habit of watching The Price is Right everyday at lunch time. Gavin likes to see the cars, motorcycles, and other prizes and I like that he is learning some important concepts like more and less, higher and lower, and higher order numbers. One day, as we were eating lunch, I began listening to the words of an advertisement about pregnancy and the desire to be a parent. I looked up from my turkey sandwich to see a big round baby bump, a beaming expectant mom, and then, I saw him. It was my fertility doctor. His face was looking kindly at me through the television and, all of the sudden, I felt bad for him. He looked like an afternoon injury lawyer, smiling reassuringly to sad and hurting people who wanted compensated for their pain. He is such a kind and authentic person and I felt like I needed to explain to all of Ohio that his office isn't a scam. On this weekday morning, sandwiched between a plug for life insurance and a blood pressure medication commercial, my doctor's face seemed misplaced. He is totally worthy of prime time advertisement.

Then my earth shattering, completely irrational, but nonetheless true observation took place. This man on my TV had seen my vagina. To be honest, it was a little awkward. I felt embarrassed. The whole world... okay just Ohio... but still... has now seen this man who has seen my vagina. But, just like the Dateline episode, I realized that by the transitive property, my vagina was famous too! Yep, my vagina is practically on TV twice a month now. Oh crap. There is the paparazzi.

I have finally called my RE's office and have an appointment scheduled for next week. I am looking forward to feeling like I am moving toward something. Between my upcoming appointment, the Organic Fertility Bible giveaway that is going on now, and the giveaways that are coming soon (including but not limited to pregnancy tests, ovulation tests, washable feminine pads, and one other very exciting item that I want to keep a secret until tomorrow) I am feeling good for being on cycle day 3!

Do you know anyone famous? Either a real celebrity or famous because they were a contestant on The Price is Right and played Plinko?

I was excited to receive a copy of the E-book, The Organic Fertility Bible, a week ago to read and share with all of you. This book is a wonderful resource chock full of information about the many intricacies of infertility. It outlines the numerous tests for both men and women that you may encounter while managing infertility. While, over the years I have learned about many of the various tests and procedures, this book includes many that I had not become familiar with. The level of detail is perfect for couples who are feeling lost in the lingo.

After digesting all of that helpful information, this book goes on to point out many lesser known contributing factors to infertility. While there was a lot of attention payed to the BPA in certain plastics, we may not be aware of the toxins in hundreds of products that we are exposed to every day. Many of these are linked to an increase of infertility as well as miscarriages. This information, while a bit tough to swallow, is important to consider. Not just for coping with infertility or miscarriage, but for our lives in general.

The book also clearly defines a diet that they feel will greatly improve fertility. I will warn you that the diet might be drastically different from what you currently eat. The recommendation is vegetarianism with the ultimate goal being a raw foods only diet. I can certainly appreciate this kind of lifestyle. I am even willing to see how this diet could likely lead to a very healthy lifestyle which always helps when dealing with infertility. As a farmer of grass fed beef cattle, I can't commit myself to this level of dedication.

If you are looking to try something new, that can really change your life, and may also improve your chances of conceiving and reducing your risk of miscarriage, this book has a lot of really helpful information. I like many of the ideals that this book talks about and it forced me to consider some other aspects of my environment that I now recognize needs some changes. This book introduces a really great program for those of you who feel ready to truly commit yourself to really making your body and lifestyle as healthy and baby friendly as possible. My opinion is that this book isn't necessary in order to get pregnant, because really, women all over the world are eating Big Macs and Taco Bell and getting pregnant. But, this book could really benefit one's lifestyle, health, and could also lead to a happy and healthy pregnancy! Now, who doesn't want that?!

Please check out their website where they offer a money back guarantee!

Not only was I lucky enough to get to read this book, I am lucky enough to be able to share it with one of my lucky readers!

Please note that I was not compensated in any way for this review. All opinions are my own! Thank you to the sponsor for providing the product for my review.
GIVEAWAY: one lucky winner will get a full copy of the Organic Fertility Bible (valued at $47.00 US) completely free!!!

How to enter: leave a comment on this post for EACH entry telling me which entry you participated in listed below. Each comment serves as a "ticket" and will give you an opportunity to win! The mandatory entry MUST be done before any others will count. Giveaway ends August 1st at 12:00pm EST.

MANDATORY ENTRY: comment below and tell me your age and how long you have been trying to conceive, when you will begin trying, or something else about you.

EXTRA ENTRIES:

• Follow this blog publicly on google friend connect (right side bar) and comment saying you did so.
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• Share this giveaway on twitter or facebook (1 entry for each. Both can be done twice a day. Be sure to comment each time!)
• Grab my new button and put it on your blog, message board signature, or web page and post the link in the comments (5 extra entries!)
  

Nope. Not what you are thinking. It is time for an appointment. Despite the odds being against us with Doug's medications and the recent warning from the GI nurse practitioner about toxicity, I was still hopeful. Silly? Maybe. But, hopeful nonetheless.

Today I am on cycle day 25 (12 days past ovulation) and it isn't looking good. Plenty of negative pregnancy tests confirm that the cramping that I am feeling is an impending period. Just another in a string of 11 periods since the return of my fertility after Joey's birth. I was exclusively breast feeding Joey around the clock and after one night where he had a 7 hour stretch of sleep (a dream come true!), I was surprised to see 'ol Aunt Flo show up the next night. Ironically, Joey only had a night or two of long stretches of sleep and then went back to waking every few hours again. But those two nights were enough for me to start my cycles again.

I started charting again as best I could with a lot of sleep interruptions, but still was able to differentiate between pre and post ovulation. We managed to time things well right from the start and expected that we would be pregnant again soon. I had started searching the internet for information regarding breast feeding and risk of miscarriage. While I wasn't able to find anything that drew a direct correlation between the two, one thing that I did read from a number of different sources was that if you are already at a higher risk of miscarriage, it may be a benefit to not try to breastfeed while pregnant. Well, since I had always become pregnant quickly, I decided that I should probably move toward weaning so that I wouldn't feel the stress of a pregnancy and trying to wean quickly.

So, I gradually weaned over the next few months. Still not pregnant though. Now, here I am going on almost a year of perfectly timed cycles and I still have nothing to show for it. I don't know why I have been hesitant to call my RE (Reproductive Endocrinologist) but I think it is time. I am starting to think that there might be something wrong with me. Doug's medications would only have been a factor for the last few cycles.

While I wait for Dr. M's office to open on Monday morning, I am going to keep making trips to the bathroom continually doing the, "wipe and inspect" so that I can either say, "C'mon already!" or sigh and cry a little. I am ready to cry a little. I am ready for a plan. A plan to help me be hopeful. A plan to let me believe that I am at least moving toward something instead of jogging in place and getting winded for no reason.

In order to end on a positive note... check out my new button! Feel free to copy and paste the code (found in the left sidebar) into your own blog, website, or blog roll.

Picture this. About 40 coworkers and you are at a dinner party. There is awkward but cheerful small talk happening everywhere. You are experienced enough to know that, at some point, the questions will eventually turn to family and how many children you have. When the response to that is "none" or even if you dealing with secondary infertility, or loss(es) this topic is enough to make you want to shout, "How incredibly insensitive of you to ask an infertile about family! Isn't it obvious that someone of my age has probably been trying?! Could you please return the conversation back to the price of gas? I don't even mind if you talk about how much it costs to fuel up you family toting mini van, but PLEASE do not point out that I have no car seats in mine!"

We complain about how isolated we feel but I think we do it to ourselves. Instead of opening ourselves up to the possible sighs, sympathetic pouts, and well meaning words of wisdom, we clam up and offer a quick, "Not yet." and a change of subject. Then we stew over how annoying and depressing these events are. Instead, why don't we give the 2 minute version of how we are struggling to have children? Share that we are managing doctor appointments and treatments to try to have a family and that we are very much hoping and praying for a family (or a larger one)? Let people see into our world of distress, sadness, and anxiety? Make this little world of infertility and loss a little less lonely.

My guess is that we fear that our stories will be quickly followed by stories of their aunt, sister, or cousin and how they had a loss, difficulty getting pregnant, or infertility. For whatever reason these stories are like nails on a chalkboard to us. Hearing someone trying to relate to us or our situations somehow feels pitiful, unauthentic, or even insulting. They talk about how their sister just needed to give up sugars and then got pregnant. In out heads we hear, "Sure. Sugar. Thanks. I'll give THAT a try. Sugar must be the issue. UGH!" Their cousin tried for years and then used some special vitamin and she got pregnant with TWINS! In our heads we hear, "Seriously? Shut up! No. Really shut up." Then, the aunt just had to participate in daily meditation and then they fell pregnant 2 weeks later. Our head tells us, "Oh yeah. Like I am going to go sit in some hippie circle, bang a few drums and think my way to pregnant. Did I mention to you how much I really hope that you shut up soon?"

After that dinner party we make our way home, contemplating picking up a second bottle of wine for drinking while watching Baby Mama for the 28th time. We decide against it and opt for picking up some really delicious munchies instead. After all there might be a baby growing in there and Doritos and Twix bars are less problematic than alcohol. As the last chip is eaten and the Twix bar is in hand, we head to the computer. The oasis of understanding, experience and commiseration.

We search for our options. We read about the fertility diets and the success stories. We learn about all of the fertility supplements that seemed to make the difference for so many others. Then we read about ways to calm ourselves and focus our energies to improve our fertility. We find these options to be inspirational. They give us hope that it might work for us too. We basically read the stories and solutions that those sisters, aunts, and cousins used, and for whatever reason, it is received better when it comes form Momma1234 or Infertile823. The exact same interventions just from "internet people" instead of real ones.

Why is this? I wonder if there is some feeling of uniqueness that we enjoy. In real life, no one could ever possibly know what I am dealing with but online, we aren't threatened by others. In fact, we band together to offer support, ideas, input and friendship.

I offer you a challenge. At the next dinner party, office event, or opportunity for the "kids" question to arise, tell the truth. When the inevitable words and stories that usually make us cringe are spoken, pretend, if you can, that they are being spoken by tryingfornumber1 or maybe mommyof6angels. See if you can hear them differently. We can only feel isolated if we chose to stand alone.

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