Like this:

Well, I guess I’m not here much anymore. I discovered I’m not terribly interested in doing a parenting blog. There are a million of them out there, and I am more into just living the life than chronicling it, I guess.

But here’s some non-parenting, all-infertility-related news:

Just had a frigging chemical pregnancy. Miscarrying now, as we speak.

Dammit!

I thought we were DONE with this IF road….

We weren’t trying, obviously. But we weren’t preventing, either.
My doctor and a few moms in the twin club have asked me what birth control we are using since the koala bear and the monkey were born. I just give them an incredulous look. Really? Birth control? After what we’ve been through? Not really worried about birth control, actually.

So, yeah, a few weeks of weirdness, and then a few positive pee stix. A beta, 88. So am told to wait a week (a WEEK! oh, get me an RE for the love of god…).

So we spend a week visualizing life with THREE kids 20 months and younger. We already are planning to move to a bigger house — but it would have to be a LOT bigger for three kids (this place is pretty darn tiny). A week of thinking, if this is real, we are SO f—–, but yet, so glad. We decided to call it a Happy Nightmare.

And then, a second beta, 23.

Two days later, my period, and it is a doozy. Ugh.
I’d like to not think about this but with these cramps from hell, how can you not?

We have decided, this type of loss, at this time in our lives, is still pretty devastating. Every little life is precious. We didn’t want any more children, but when this one seemed to be coming to us — we wanted him. (see? we knew better. but we gave him a gender anyway.)

What does make it a bit less bad is that such a loss does not come accompanied by the fear/confusion/etc of personal identity as it does for someone with primary infertility. this loss is as real as any we experienced. but we are freed of the fears — this loss doesn’t mean i may never be a mom. I AM a mom. I don’t get to be THAT BABY’S mom, and that makes me sad. He would’ve been a cool person, I am sure. The world lost a good one, I think. But my life still does consist of being the mom of someone (two someones) who are here now.

For that, I am one freaking lucky person.
I know it.

I wish the universe would let me off this crazy train of infertility. I want to forget about it and carry on with my life. But every time I think I’m out, it keeps pulling me back in.

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