Spring in Japan

We've now been in Japan for 3 weeks and just settled into a home in Kyoto for two weeks. I listened to a podcast while running this week of an interview of a woman who traveled with her family of 5 around the world for 9 months.  She talked about how they had "slow and low" periods where they stayed put for an extended period of time.  2 weeks isn't that long, but it sounds like an eternity right now and I'm thrilled that we can explore Kyoto at our own pace.  We rented a bike with a kid's seat (and have another that came with our airbnb), we have a kitchen and I cooked dinner tonight, and I'm looking forward to having some "normal" days.  Today we found an awesome playground just a 5 minute walk from our house, too.

I'm still feeling all mixed up about pregnancies, babies, siblings, etc.  I have 2 rounds of Clomid with me and I decided to take one round this month because -- why not?  If I don't take it, I'm just toting it around the world for no reason.  I feel fine but it doesn't seem to be working as well this time around (based only on the fact that last time I had a lot of EWCM and I'm not having that as much this time around).  I'm taking COQ10, but not DHEA.  I just don't like how it makes me feel and I worry that I've taken too much of it these past few years.  Honestly, I feel pretty hopeless on the pregnancy front right now and maybe that's okay?  Perhaps I'm coming to grips with reality and acceptance is around the corner?  We'll see.

An aspect of our trip that has been very difficult for me is the utter lack of alone time.  I'm outgoing and enjoy spending time with friends, socializing, etc., but there is part of me that is extremely introverted. I love and need to be alone for some period of time each day and I am just not getting that.  With B not napping and spending every day with R, it's been challenging and I know it i isn't helping how I feel about pregnancy, myself, my body, etc.  I'm getting far afield from wanting another child here, but I have realized that not getting some time to myself is making me a worse wife and mother, making me less patient, and shortening my fuse when it comes to B, well, acting like a toddler!  I've started running every day, which I do alone, so hopefully that helps, and I'm hoping for some solo exploration time in the coming days.  

All of that said, I struggle lately with knowing why I'm feeling a certain way or what is impacting the strength of those emotions.  Is it hormonal imbalance?  Is it lack of alone time?  Is it the inconsistency and lack of routine that comes from travel?  Is it just how I'm feeling?  I don't know.

To end this on a happy note, the days are filled more often with happiness and joy than anything else, so I don't want to sound ungrateful or unhappy - I'm not.  I'm just parsing through what I am feeling, which I don't get to do these days with a girlfriend over coffee or wine, or with a therapist, which is probably what I should be doing...

Also, I wrote before about Sheryl Sandberg's heartbreaking missive after her husband's death.  She just published a book about grief and loss and finding strength in such circumstances called Option B.  I've just downloaded it, but in case you missed the news...

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It's an Epidemic

Eight people in the last week have either (a) given birth to a second or third baby when their previous child is younger than B or (b) told me they are expecting a second or third baby when their previous child is younger than B.  One friend is unexpectedly having twins.

Now I know I'm on this grand year-off adventure, which is supposed to make me calm and Zen, but SERIOUSLY WTF.  It's an epidemic.

Forgive me.  I know this is irrational.  I know other people's pregnancies in no way relate to mine.  I know I should be happy for each and every one of them (and I am... deep down....), but it's been crushing my spirit a bit this week as I feel like I am just being passed left and right by people who are so easily getting what I want.  And of course I mark each birth and month with where I would be if I hadn't had two miscarriages.  #3 would be four months old.  I'd be about 20 weeks pregnant with #4.  Everywhere we travel, I see families with two or three children and one of them is about B's age and there is always a younger one.

The thing is, I really do not want to feel this way.  I'd like to be present in the moment and on this trip all the time.  And when I'm not, I'd like it to be because I'm doing something constructive like reading, blogging, exercising, or listening to a podcast.  I don't want it to be because I'm stewing and being jealous of people I don't even know and whose ability to pop out babies left and right is wholly irrelevant in my life.

I went so far as to write down grievances I've been holding onto and to make a few wishes using Flying Wish Paper as recommended by Gretchen Rubin on the Happier podcast (which I adore and highly recommend).  It helped for a few hours, but this morning the feelings crept up on me, especially after seeing on Instagram that a friend had a baby and I didn't even know she was pregnant again!

Apologies, I'm just venting.  I *know* I have so much for which I should be (and am) grateful.  But I also think that part of letting go of these feelings is owning them and admitting they exist.  I don't always feel great.  I sometimes resent and am jealous of people in a ridiculous way.  And I feel extra guilty for feeling this way because I know my pre-B self, who was consumed by grief and fear of never having a child, would hate this post-B self for wallowing and being jealous considering I have a spunky, smart, fun, joyful toddler to chase after day in and day out.

That's all.

If anyone has any ideas for me, I'd love to hear them.

Another Day, Another Miscarriage

I'm right back where I was last spring, just four weeks farther along than last time.  Yesterday we saw an OB in Kauai and the baby hadn't grown since six weeks and three days and there was no longer a heartbeat.  R & B were there with and just looking over at them and seeing B smile at me and give me a big hug made the whole situation survivable, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't devastated, disappointed, sad, and, frankly, really f-ing angry.  I would just rather not repeatedly get pregnant only to find out the pregnancy isn't viable, and this one feels worse because we saw a heartbeat and I'm now 10+ weeks with *no* signs of miscarriage.  In fact, my HCG yesterday was 25,000 so clearly my body has not yet caught on.

Given how high my HCG is, the OB here wants me to come back in for a scan with their radiology department (better equipment) to confirm it isn't a molar pregnancy.  My Colorado OB (with whom I've spoken several times) thinks this is highly unlikely, but of course I'm going to go in to confirm.

Most of all, I feel foolish.  Foolish for getting my hopes up, foolish for thinking this was our second rainbow baby, imagining flying home mid-summer instead of next winter so that I could have this baby at home, worrying about the logistics of getting meds, etc.  None of it matters and why haven't I learned my lesson about thinking things will work out?

I am, of course, already thinking about what is next.  I'll take misoprostol again to induce bleeding so that everything can be "take care of" before we leave the U.S. (on February 12th).  And then what?  I know in my heart I'm not done - I want to have another baby.  But I am beginning to wonder if that is wise.  I'm 36 years old.  I have POF.  I now have a history of recurrent miscarriages, presumably due to chromosomal abnormalities.  I have complicated pregnancies.  I keep thinking: "Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me."

One silver lining to all of this is that, so far, I feel much better emotionally than I did last spring.  Even with getting my hopes up, I knew better than to tell many people, make plans, or really give this pregnancy much credence.  I don't know if that is helping or the fact that I'm with my family in Hawaii but I don't feel the darkness overwhelming me like I did last spring.  Who knows?  It's too soon to tell how I'll feel in a few days, but I'm trying to keep perspective and stay as positive as possible.

So that's the (depressing, frustrating, infuriating, disappointing) update from here.

Here We Go Again

I can't believe I'm about to write these words again.... I am the tiniest bit pregnant.  I had a positive home pregnancy test on Monday.  I just had a feeling and the feeling was apparently accurate.  Tuesday and Thursday I had HCG betas and they came back at 285 and 625, respectively.

Today is my last day at work and we leave for Hawaii in just over two weeks.  If my beta looks good on Monday, I'll have an ultrasound the week after Christmas, just a few days before we leave.  I'm having déjà vu to March of this year when I had decent betas and then there was no heartbeat at the ultrasound and I'm desperately trying to not be too optimistic out of self-preservation.  We are in the midst of Christmas parties and celebrations and I'm going to have to do a better job of hiding the fact that I'm not having a drink.  I'm avoiding thinking about what we'll do if the ultrasound looks good because it will mean coordinating health care around the world, tracking down Lovenox, etc.  I know it will be fine and that people have healthy babies everywhere, it just seems daunting. I know what to do here -- I don't know what to do in, say, Japan.


Oddly, I didn't tell R the news for over 24 hours.  I feel the same way about telling my parents, who we'll have to tell because we are spending Christmas with them and they'll know when I don't have a drink (my Mom has an uncanny sixth sense for pregnancy and has guessed every time, long before I was planning to tell her).  I am convinced it won't work out again and that I'll disappoint everyone all over again (everyone and myself).  


I had to tell someone what was going on, so here I am sharing it in my "safe space."

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Time Marches On

How is it November?  October was filled with all the fun activities that one gets to attend when you have a small child who is mesmerized by all things Halloween.  Pumpkins!  Bats!  Ghosts!  Lights!  Seriously, I had no idea how much better fall would be with a toddler.  Plus, in my humble opinion, B seriously crushed it in the costume category.

Our trip is slowly coming together.  I find myself daydreaming of the beach and know that we'll be there before we know it, plus there is Christmas between now and then.  After Kauai, we'll head to Sydney and then to New Zealand where we'll stay for 6-8 weeks.  And then onto Japan!

On the fertility front, I don't have anything to report.  I've been feeling okay.  I've had wonky cycles, but all signs point to ovulating and I'm having cycles, so that is something.  But seriously - since my miscarriage, my cycles have been 27 days, 35 days, 18 days and 38 days.  What gives?!  I had decided to just leave without seeing a Reproductive Endocrinologist, but then I found out that the one I liked best is joining a new practice that I also liked, so I figured there was no harm in just seeing what she has to say.  I still want to know thoughts on trying HRT and then coming off of it (I've read this is how some have success) and if there is anything else I should be doing (although I doubt there is).  Some days I feel resigned to just having one child, giving away all of our baby stuff (we ARE decluttering), and moving on from this stage of my life.  It would be liberating to stop thinking about trying to get pregnant, which might be what happens naturally next year when we are traveling.  I'm so excited to quit my job and spend more time with B and R.

If you want to read a heavy but incredibly moving, poignant, heartbreaking piece about the death of a child, you must read "Children Don't Always Live." Maybe I should have led with this sad link and followed with the flamingo?  Oops.

Happy Fall to you all!

September, Sadness, and A Year of Travel

It's been six weeks since my last post and there has been a lot going on.  Frankly, there has been so much going on in our lives that I haven't had much time to dwell on my wacky cycles and getting pregnant and it has been a welcome break from the subject.  To briefly mention it, I've had two more cycles, one that was 35 days and one that was 19.  I don't think I ovulated either cycle.  C'est la vie.  I feel fine and haven't been having any menopausal symptoms, so I'l take it.

Two things have dominated my life in the last few weeks:

First, my best friend died.  I don't know how to share this news without being blunt.  In a period of my life that seems to be marked by grief (as well as by extreme joy), this is yet another example of how life can be so incredibly cruel.  At the same time, her death is a reminder to live each day to the fullest.  Each night when I read to B and rock her to sleep, I smell her head, kiss her cheeks, and tell her how much I love her and relish those moments because Chelsey doesn't get to do that to her little ones anymore. It breaks my heart.  She was the first person with whom I shared my infertility news, the first person at my side after Quinn died, the only person other than Rob who attended ultrasounds during my pregnancy with Blythe, and the friend I visited for coffee immediately after my miscarriage this spring.  We've been through so much together and I don't quite know how I'll get through more without her.  But I know I will because she was the toughest lady that I know and I'll use that as my inspiration.

I'm not particularly religious.  At times like this, I really wish that I were.  Chelsey's father passed away a year to the day before Quinn.  She always talked to me about how Quinn was in heaven with her Dad and he was talking the best care of her for me.  When I got pregnant this spring again, she said "thanks, Dad and Quinn, for sending Darcy another baby."  And now the only comforting thought I have about Chelsey is that she is with her Dad (who she missed dearly) and with Quinn.  I know she believed that she would be, so I'm going to believe it, too.

This photo is of me and Chelsey after our marathon in June (I'm on the right).  She was the kind of friend who would agree to run a marathon in 6 weeks because you had a miscarriage and need something to work toward.  This won't be the last time I mention her on this blog, but that's all I can say for now.  I miss her dearly and keep waiting for her to text me about our next long run or dinner with the kiddos.

Second, we have made a momentous decision: we are taking 2017 as a year to travel.  We have booked tickets, departing January 2nd, for Kauai.  From there, we'll head to New Zealand and Japan and then to Europe.  It's a crazy decision, but it felt like the right time for both me and R in terms of work.  I'm desperate to spend more time with B and with R.  It's been a tough couple of years and it will do us some good to relax, travel, spend time together, and just enjoy life.  We aren't putting ourselves in any financial hardship by doing this trip and we are so excited.

Given that we are all acquaintances via the Internet, this probably sounds insane and like something I'm making up.  I'm really not.  I will be blogging about the trip on my regular blog, which you are all welcome to follow (although we aren't leaving until January): www.darcyeden.com.  I just ask that you please respect the fact that I talk about Q and infertility in a very different way in that space (which is not very much - I'm not ready) and REALLY do not want this space revealed on that site.

It's hard to be joyous about this adventure giving Chelsey's death.  It's actually astonishing to me how differently I'm experiencing grief about Chelsey as compared to Q, but I think that is a topic for another post.  I haven't wrapped my head around it yet.

Hug your husband, wife, partner, parents, family, littles, etc. extra tight.