Strollers, bottles, and more!

One thing that has become apparent is that we don't have a lot of "baby" stuff.

Ché was 13 months old the day we picked him up, so the littlest things we have are 6-9 months, which yes, amazingly fit Ché for quite some time. (he wore 12 month shorts yesterday...)

So, we've been assessing the situation and trying to decide all that we need to acquire in the next 6-7 months. It's apparent that we have to have two car seats, clothes and bottles. We went tonight and looked at a double stroller which I think you need a CDL to drive their so big and get an idea of the car seats that are available. I've been scouring the clearance racks for clothes, so we won't have to have naked kids running around...

We we were able to score 2 "jiggly" seats at a garage sale for $6 a piece, and a crib and mattress from Craigslist for $120. (We've decided to split the babies up as best as we can at the beginning by putting them in their own cribs, this way we avoid trying to split them up from co-sleeping with one another, which we've read has been a difficult thing to do)

The big debate now is bottles. When Che came we used the ventaire bottles by playtex, and the cheap Gerber bottles since that was what he used in Guatemala. At the time the BPA free movement hadn't quite gained momentum so bottles weren't made that way. Mike wants to do glass bottles, but I'm fine as long as the plastic is BPA free. The bad thing is that whatever we choose we have to have a lot of. There's no way that we'll be able to have less than 12-15 bottles for everyday... which could be very expensive. So, we'll continue discussing those options.

Is there anything that you recommend for infants? We don't have experience here so any comments are welcome!

The other great debate is:

Names. Mike likes much different names than I do. He contends that we should just each name one, but that prospect is scary. Names he threw out tonight are:

*Apollo

* Quinn

* Sawyer

* Tillman (Till...)

* Navarre

* Cutler (-ey... hehe)

* Harper

* Tucker

* Hollis

* Gust

*Luc

*Alburon

*Theophilus (I mean seriously????)

and that's just the beginning of his madness. So yea, that's going to be a battle. Sigh...

So, any advice on baby gear and names would be appreciated, not necessarily name ideas, but ways to bridge the gaps in our likes/dislikes.

A month betwen posts

and so much to post about...

As most of you are already aware, Mike and I have done a lot of fertility work. We agreed to do one IVF cycle, and if it didn't work, that was going to be the end. Famous last words!

On May 3rd we had 7 eggs retrieved and fertilized. There were 6 eggs fertilized and so on Wednesday, May 5th we had 2 put back. At that time we had decided to do a freezing of eggs, which means that everyone they took out was fertilized and then they got to pick the best 2 to put back in. We had intentions of freezing the rest for future use. If we had not consented to the freezing, they would have only fertilized 2 eggs, which means if they didn't work, we would have lost all the time and hope we put into the process.

Then we waited, and waited, and waited some more. It was the longest 13 days of my life. On May 17th, Mike left for NABS in Michigan, which wasn't far, but far enough away that he wasn't going to be able to be home for the next day's results of the first beta test. I took a home pregnancy test on the 17th, and it declared "Pregnant" in its digital read out much quicker than the 3 minutes the box said. I ran into the bedroom, and handed it to Mike who said "What does that mean."

I went on the 18th, coincidentally, 1 year after my dad had passed away and had my first beta done. On the guidelines from the Dr's. office it said that if the number is over 50, the test would be repeated in 2 days, and if under 50 you could assume you were not pregnant. That phone call came in the afternoon on the 18th, with a beta number of 228, well over that magic 50 number. I had a repeat beta on Wednesday the 20th, and again according to the guidelines in order to celebrate we needed to see the number double, which meant we should see at least 456, ours was 526m which again was much more than needed.

We were officially pregnant at that time! Something we had waited so long for, and it seemed so surreal

I started to question the high numbers at that time, but our Dr.'s office wouldn't confirm anything, and Dr. Google wasn't very helpful either. So we had to wait again. On June 6th we went in for an ultrasound to confirm and the tech said, "There's your baby, and there's another one..."

I think Mike almost fainted, I had prepared myself that this was a possibility, he had convinced himself that it was not. The tech measured, both were measuring at the right sizes, one was measuring 6 weeks 5 days (right on), and the other was 6 weeks 4 days. the heart rates were right on where they needed to be as well.

The dr.'s office then led us to another room where we were left alone for quite some time to digest the news. I don't think they could have left us there long enough!

We had another ultrasound 2 weeks later, and the tech was not good at hiding her concern over the fact that Baby "B" was a lot smaller than Baby "A" It was very concerning, and we thought something was wrong. The comforting thing though was that the heart rates were very healthy. We were asked to wait at the doctor's office to talk to someone, but I had a mtg, and couldn't wait. The rescheduled us for a week later to re-measure and make sure everything was alright. A week later Baby "B" had turned and was measuring right on track, as was Baby "A" which meant, no problems. It was comforting to know and set my mind at ease.

I had another annual type appt. today, and since the doctor cannot use a doppler to hear the heartbeats got to have another ultrasound to measure heartbeats. This was my first ultrasound that was done on the outside, not in, and it was very cool. I got to see both babies, very briefly, and see that their hearts are pumping well, one at 171 and the other at 173. Baby "A" was chillin out, cool as a cucumber, and Baby "B" was rockin' it out in there, all limbs going at once. Both babies were head up today, which last time one was head up and the other head down.

At this time we are 11 weeks pregnant, with a due date still set for January 24th, although with twins the normal gestation is less than 40 weeks so I'm assuming it will be at least 4 weeks early, which leaves us at the end of Dec. or early Jan.

I have to say that overall I've felt great. I've not had any morning sickness and the only complaints I have are that my left leg keeps falling asleep and I'm really tired. O try not to bring it up a lot because I don't like the glares from other pregnant women, or the smiting from someone making it suddenly appear!

I feel that you can tell that I'm pregnant at this point, however I doubt that you can, it's just my perception. I'm to the point where a lot of my pants are tighter, so I bought these, which have been really helpful. They come in two different sizes and right now what they are allowing me to do is eat comfortably and move well.

I've tried really hard not to read a lot of pregnancy books because I don't want to make my mind lead me into thinking things are happening when they aren't. If I have questions, I call the doctor. I've been feeling some round ligament pain at times, which is very interesting, and I know shocking to Mike when I just stood hunched over in the kitchen one day for about 3 minutes.

Mike is really excited now, and we're both getting used to the idea that our family is almost doubling. Ché believes that the babies are his, and that Santa is going to put them in my belly button at Christmas time. He is very excited about having siblings, and insists that he is going to be a big sister.

The one site that I do check regularly is one that compares fetal size with fruit. This is week 11:

A fig. last week it was a kumquat. This for me puts the babies into perspective into something that I can hold, and make tangible.

So, that's our big news. What have you been up to?

I'll try to post some more of Che's stories, and things that he's made up, they're hilarious and definitely worth sharing!

My Blood Hurts.

Yesterday we topped the list on ways to torture Ché. He's been having leg pain at night, always in the same leg, and always at night. For awhile it was happening a couple times a week. Since it was only one leg, and he's generally not a complainer we thought it was something that we should have checked out. The other thing that tipped us to have it checked out is that the leg that is sore all the time isn't the one that was broken prior to us adopting Ché.

So we did. We took him to our family doctor, who said he had good range of motion and that everything looked fine. I asked if it was because he might be him overcompensating for his short leg. We were told it was a possibility, but that the Dr. wanted to run some tests to check it out. He started to say, "If it were my son..." but he stopped. I know this meant that he thought we shouldn't worry about it, but it causes pain which usually ends up in a dose of Tylenol and 20 or more minutes of rubbing and sometimes an ice pack in order to get him to go back to sleep, so it really is a big deal. So, Dr. ordered an x-ray and a blood test.

The x-ray was no big deal, in fact the x-ray tech even showed Ché the pictures, so he got to see his own bones. Interestingly enough though, kids that age don't have kneecaps.

Then there was blood test, which we did yesterday. When we went to the lab we did our best to keep Ché updated on what was going to happen. We were honest that it was going to hurt a little bit, but that the pain would go away. So he was alright. Climbed up into the chair, got his arms out, let the lady do the tourniquet, the alcohol wipe, she had the needle ready to go, and not a peep out of him. Then the insert. And the crying, although I have to say not bad at all. He even held still for her because she asked him too. He stopped crying before it was done, and then was so excited to get the big blue band-aid.

He wouldn't give her a high-five, but did take the stickers from her and tell her thank you, so he must not have had to much animosity towards her.

He was good, we congratulated him on being so well behaved, rewarded him with fruit snacks and a trip to the park and he was fine. But on the way out the door, to leave the lab, the comment was made, and Mike and I just had to stop from rolling on the floor:

"My blood hurts, Mama."

I know

You're all waiting with baited breath to hear the news. But I'm not sharing yet, although lots of people know the answer already.

I'll share soon though, just not ready yet.

On another note:

We visited Chicago over the long weekend and Che had a great time playing with his cousins. They own one of these:

But, those crafty people didn't put the big battery in it so it was just a really big radio, which still kept those three kids (age 4 and under) occupied for most of the evening. We had some great barbecue, smoked brisket, and smoked ribs. It was great, and Che really liked it too.

As always we left late, and Che fell asleep by the time we were on the toll road. It helped that it was dark and rainy, that he didn't have a nap that day, and that he was totally worn out. He slept until about 5 miles from home, when a loud thud to the car woke him. The thud.... a deer.

Luckily, Mike's superb driving skills really helped out as he braked and swerved, hitting the deer with only one side of the car. The headlight was a goner, and there were lots of dents and damage, but no one was hurt, and luckily the air bags deployed. I believe there was also talk about saliva being smeared down the side of the car. I called my mom, to tell her that we were almost home and Che grabbed the phone. This was the conversation:

Che: "Hi Nana."
Nana: "Hi Ché, how are you?"
Che: "I'm ok. We bumped into a deer."
Nana: "You did! Is everyone alright."
Che: "yea." at this point he got really sad... "but I think it was a reindeer."

He talked about that reindeer off and on for the next couple of days. We assured him that the deer's momma gave it a band-aid and kisses, and we're sure it's better. Of course in reality, that deer was hurting, since we only hit the back half, and I'm sure by now it's not living anymore.

It was an interesting incident by the way, but hopefully the talk of reindeer is on it's way out.

This wait...

is killing me. I think we've just stopped talking about it at home.

On other notes, Ché is becoming quite the little boy. No longer a baby, and quickly leaving toddlerhood. He is now dressing himself quite frequently, and I'm happy to say potty trained! Yippee!
In the past month we've had 2 accidents, one of which was yesterday when he couldn't open the door from outside and couldn't make it in the house. (that doesn't count as an "accident" in my book anyway. He was trying.)

He is also becoming very talkative, and likes telling stories. On of my favorite phrases that we hear quite often is, "like that you know." It's a very serious part of any conversation. Che is also big into making plans right now, as in "Here's the plan... I'm going to take a nap."

Mike will be leaving for Michigan to attend NABS, sadly not this NABS. hehe. He will be gone about a week, so we'll see if there is a return of toddler depression. We've been telling Che that Daddy will be gone, and he seems to understand, but we'll see what really happens come next Sunday. Last time when Mike came home Ché wouldn't talk to him.

Other than that though life's been normal, going to work, playing at home, going to bed, knitting, watching too much basketball (I'm glad that's almost over...)

Pictures (with more info now!)

Take a look, take a guess...

This is what we've been up to. Know what it is?

Yes, there are two.  It doesn't mean that either or both will stay.  We'll find out at a later date and be sharing.  Unfortunately this is even harder than the shots, and multiple trips to Indy, the uncomfortable procedures, and the 5 people looking at my bits and pieces on Wednesday...

Umm, yea

So it's been a few months... since I last popped over here and a lot has been going on. I don't know where to start..

I guess I'll start with a really good thing.
After being out of bloggerworld for a few days, I came back to catch up on some posts and found out I won a contest! I never win anything, how neat is that!

I'll make sure I post some more soon, but am waiting on some pictures...

Interview

A fellow blogger sent the following questions:

1. What is your clearest memory of the year you were 10?

That would have been 1992. I was in 5th grade, and as far as I can remember my clearest memory was at camp. I believe that was the year I broke my ankle playing kickball. I vividly remember the noise (which is why to this day I cannot stand knuckle cracking), and that I threw the ball back in so the other kids didn't have to stop playing. I was at Birch Lake in Michigan, so I had to be driven down to the Granger Martin's where my parents picked me up and then took me to the hospital. Unfortunately, I had already put wash out hair color in my hair (pink of course) and was not treated the greatest at the hospital. I was told it was just a sprain, given some crutches and sent on my way. I begged to go back to camp, which my parents let me do, with the explicit instructions to stay on the crutches.
I didn't. Of course. Now, as an adult, I kick myself, since I have many days of pain in that ankle, which decides to give out every now and then. (I found out later that it was broken...)

2. If you were not a mom and wife, what would you be doing?

I have no idea. I think I would still be living at home, and may have pursued an advance degree since I would be working and have nothing else to spend my money on.

3. If a movie was made of your life, who would you want to play you?

I have always had an affinity for Molly Ringwald, but the whole 40 years old and pregnant with twins thing (her not me!) doesn't really help out, so I guess Drew Barrymore. We have the same round face, so perhaps that would work! (I'm not really up on my actresses, so that's the best I've got for this one...)

4. What TV show is most like your life and why?

The Office. I have crazy people in my life that remind me of those characters. They aren't all work related, in fact most of them aren't, but each of the Office characters has a counter part in my life.

5. If you could have one superpower, what would it be and why?

The power to stop time. I could get so much more done if everyone around me would just be still and let me get things finished!

That was easy! If you want to participate, just shoot me a comment and I'll send you 5 questions!

"Mr. Obama is a nice man"

Yesterday was a very historical day. I spent my lunch hour huddled around streaming video of the inauguration. I've never watched any of the others. I was amazed at how quiet the crowd was, and how peaceful it appeared.

Since it was a Tuesday, Grandma was over watching Ché. Tuesday also means it's the day Ché's friend comes to play with his Grandma. Both Grandma's wanted to watch the inauguration, and since Mike was home at lunch it became quite an event.

Ché's friend watched for a few seconds, then went off to play. That's what I expected of Ché. He's three and doesn't have to understand the significance and importance of yesterday. But he didn't. He sat and watched. He watched the quartet, pointed out the big trumpets, and found many of the police men standing around. He watched as Mr. Obama put his hand on the bible, and took the oath of office. He told Grandma that the girl was cute, referring to Mr. Obama's youngest daughter, Sasha. Later, he watched the parade, taking it all in. Noticing, and pointing things out as he watched.

When Mike and I arrived at his parents house that evening, to have supper, Mr. Obama was all Ché talked about. He told that Mr. Obama is a nice man, and that he was in a parade. Throughout the evening Ché told us that he was Obama, and he would walk straight and tall and proud. He ate his dinner, pretending to be Mr. Obama, and when we told him that Mr. Obama had spinach that night for dinner, Ché gladly ate his own spinach.

A bit before leaving we were watching coverage of the Neighborhood Ball, and trying to explain to Ché what was going on. He didn't say much until the ride home. He said that Mr. Obama was in the car, and we said, no he was probably at the Ball, dancing. He paused a few minutes, and then said, "No, Mr. Obama is not dancing. He's talking."

We of course said that Ché was probably correct, and that President Obama was probably talking.

While Ché was then taking off his boots he told me that "President Bush had to go to the parking lot, and now Mr. Obama is the President."

This morning, Mike was going to turn on some cartoons for Ché to watch and when the TV came on C-Span was on. They were re-running the inauguration. Guess who wanted to watch it again?

Thought

Infertility is something that a lot of people don't understand. The concept isn't hard to understand, and a bit of basic science knowledge can help people understand the reasons behind, but I think it's the emotional side that people generally have a lack of knowledge about.

I believe that alot of people think that those of us (women) that suffer through infertility are jealous of pregnant women. It's true, at least for me. I feel a pang of jealousness, (then guilt) every time a loved one, or friend announces a pregnancy. It's compounded when I get the baby shower invites, or the updates to the pregnancy blog. (ack!)

But, honestly it's not the pregnancy that I'm jealous of. It's taken a lot of time for me to process this, and I'm finally able to pinpoint it. I'm not envious that people can get pregnant, but that they can have a baby. That's the end result of a pregnancy, and that's ultimately the reason for embarking on that journey. To have a baby.

Most people, I believe, don't get pregnant because they want to be pregnant. I believe they do so to have a family, to have a baby, a child.

So, it's 10 times harder for me to be around newborns, and babies, than it is pregnant women. Showers compound it because everyone is celebrating the impending birth of a new baby.

I think what says it best though, better than I can is this letter from Resolve, a national organization on infertility: (it's long! you've been warned!)

"I want to share my feelings about infertility with you, because I want you to understand my struggle. I know that understanding infertility is difficult; there are times when it seems even I don't understand. This struggle has provoked intense and unfamiliar feelings in me and I fear that my reactions to these feelings might be misunderstood. I hope my ability to cope and your ability to understand will improve as I share my feelings with you. I want you to understand.You may describe me this way: obsessed, moody, helpless, depressed, envious, too serious, obnoxious, aggressive, antagonistic, and cynical. These aren't very admirable traits; no wonder your understanding of my infertility is difficult. I prefer to describe myself this way: confused, rushed and impatient, afraid, isolated and alone, guilty and ashamed, angry, sad and hopeless, and unsettled.My infertility makes me feel confused. I always assumed I was fertile. I've spent years avoiding pregnancy and now it seems ironic that I can't conceive. I hope this will be a brief difficulty with a simple solution such as poor timing. I feel confused about whether I want to be pregnant or whether I want to be a parent. Surely if I try harder, try longer, try better and smarter, I will have a baby.My infertility makes me feel rushed and impatient. I learned of my infertility only after I'd been trying to become pregnant for some time. My life-plan suddenly is behind schedule. I waited to become a parent and now I must wait again. I wait for medical appointments, wait for tests, wait for treatments, wait for other treatments, wait for my period not to come, wait for my partner not to be out of town and wait for pregnancy. At best, I have only twelve opportunities each year. How old will I be when I finish having my family?My infertility makes me feel afraid. Infertility is full of unknowns, and I'm frightened because I need some definite answers. How long will this last? What if I'm never a parent? What humiliation must I endure? What pain must I suffer? Why do drugs I take to help me, make me feel worse? Why can't my body do the things that my mind wants it to do? Why do I hurt so much? I'm afraid of my feelings, afraid of my undependable body and afraid of my future.My infertility makes me feel isolated and alone. Reminders of babies are everywhere. I must be the only one enduring this invisible curse. I stay away from others, because everything makes me hurt. No one knows how horrible my pain is. Even though I'm usually a clear thinker, I find myself being lured by superstitions and promises. I think I'm losing perspective. I feel so alone and I wonder if I'll survive this.My infertility makes me feel guilty and ashamed. Frequently I forget that infertility is a medical problem and should be treated as one. Infertility destroys my self esteem and I feel like a failure. Why am I being punished? What did I do to deserve this? Am I not worthy of a baby? Will my partner want to remain with me? Is this the end of my family lineage? Will my family be ashamed of me? It is easy to lose self-confidence and to feel ashamed.My infertility makes me feel angry. Everything makes me angry, and I know much of my anger is misdirected. I'm angry at my body because it has betrayed me even though I've always taken care of it. I'm angry at my partner because we can't seem to feel the same about infertility at the same time. I want and need an advocate to help me. I'm angry at my family because they've always sheltered and protected me from terrible pain. My younger sibling is pregnant; my mother wants a family reunion to show off her grandchildren and my grandparents want to pass down family heirlooms.I'm angry at my medical caregivers, because it seems that they control my future. They humiliate me, inflict pain on me, pry into my privacy, patronize me, and sometimes forget who I am. How can I impress on them how important parenting is to me? I'm angry at my expenses; infertility treatment is extremely expensive. My financial resources may determine my family size. My insurance company isn't cooperative, and I must make so many sacrifices to pay the medical bills. I can't miss any more work, or I'll lose my job. I can't go to a specialist, because it means more travel time, more missed work, and greater expenses. Finally, I'm angry at everyone else. Everyone has opinions about my inability to become a parent. Everyone has easy solutions. Everyone seems to know too little and say too much.My infertility makes me feel sad and hopeless. Infertility feels like I've lost my future, and no one knows of my sadness. I feel hopeless; infertility robs me of my energy. I've never cried so much nor so easily. I'm sad that my infertility places my marriage under so much strain. I'm sad that my infertility requires me to be so self-centered. I'm sad that I've ignored many friendships because this struggle hurts so much and demands so much energy. Friends with children prefer the company of other families with children. I'm surrounded by babies, pregnant women, playgrounds, baby showers, birth stories, kids' movies, birthday parties and much more. I feel so sad and hopeless.My infertility makes me feel unsettled. My life is on hold. Making decisions about my immediate and my long-term future seems impossible. I can't decide about education, career, purchasing a home, pursuing a hobby, getting a pet, vacations, business trips and houseguests. The more I struggle with my infertility, the less control I have. This struggle has no timetable; the treatments have no guarantees. The only sure things are that I need to be near my partner at fertile times and near my doctor at treatment times. Should I pursue adoption? Should I take expensive drugs? Should I pursue more specialized and costly medical intervention? It feels unsettling to have no clear, easy answers or guarantees.Occasionally I feel my panic subside. I'm learning some helpful ways to cope; I'm now convinced I'm not crazy, and I believe I'll survive. I'm learning to listen to my body and to be assertive, not aggressive, about my needs. I'm realizing that good medical care and good emotional care are not necessarily found in the same place. I'm trying to be more than an infertile person gaining enthusiasm, joyfulness, and zest for life.You can help me. I know you care about me and I know my infertility affects our relationship. My sadness causes you sadness; what hurts me, hurts you, too. I believe we can help each other through this sadness. Individually we both seem quite powerless, but together we can be stronger. Maybe some of these hints will help us to better understand infertility.I need you to be a listener. Infertile couples have a lot on their minds and need someone to talk to. Sometimes a good ear helps people get things off their chests. A good listener can help people express their anxiety, anger, and guilt; or help people work out solutions to problems. Without offering any suggestions, your attentiveness and interest may provide the comfort and reassurance I need most. Talking about my struggle helps me to make decisions. Let me know if you are available for me. Repeatedly remind me that you love me no matter what. I need to hear it so badly. Let me know you understand that this is very hard work. Help me realize that I may need additional support from professional caregivers and appropriate organizations. Perhaps you can suggest resources. You might also need support for yourself, and I fear I'm unable to provide it for you; please don't expect me to do so. Help me to keep sight of my goal.Let me know when you don’t know what to say. I need you to be comfortable with me, and then I also will feel more comfortable. Talking about infertility sometimes feels awkward. Are you worried you might say the wrong thing? Share those feelings with me. Ask me if I want to talk. Sometimes I will want to, and sometimes I won't, but it will remind me that you care.I need you to be sensitive. Although I may joke about infertility to help myself cope, it doesn't seem as funny when others joke about it. Please don't tease me with remarks like, "You don't seem to know how to do it." Don't trivialize my struggle by saying, "I'd be glad to give you one of my kids." It's no comfort to hear empty reassurances like, "You'll be a parent by this time next year." Don't minimize my feelings with, "You shouldn't be so unhappy." For now, don't push me into uncomfortable situations like baby showers or family reunions. I already feel sad and guilty; please don't also make me feel guilty for disappointing you.I need you to be honest with me. Let me know that you may need time to adjust to some of my decisions. I also needed adjustment time. If there are things you don't understand, say so. Please be gentle when you guide me to be realistic about things I can't change such as my age, some medical conditions, financial resources, and employment obligations. Don't hide information about others' pregnancies from me. Although such news makes me feel very sad, it feels worse when you leave me out.I need you to be informed. Your advice and suggestions are only frustrating to me if they aren't based on fact. Be well informed so you can educate others when they make remarks based on myths. Don't let anyone tell you that my infertility will be cured if I relax and adopt. Don't tell me this is God's will. Don't ask me to justify my need to parent. Don't criticize my course of action or my choice of physician even though I may do that myself. Reassure yourself that I am also searching for plenty of information which helps me make more knowledgeable decisions about my options.I need you to be patient. Remember that working through infertility is a process. It takes time. There are no guarantees, no package deals, no complete kits, no one right answer, and no "quickie" choices. My needs change; my choices change. Yesterday I demanded privacy, but today I need you for strength. You have many feelings about infertility, and I do too. Please allow me to have anger, joy, sadness, and hope. Don't minimize or evaluate my feelings. Just allow me to have them, and give me time.I need you to be strengthening by boosting my self esteem. My sense of worthlessness hampers my ability to take charge. My personal privacy has repeatedly been invaded. Enjoyable experiences with you such as a lunch date, a shopping trip, or a visit to a museum help me feel normal. Encourage me to maintain my sense of humor; guide me to find joys. Celebrate with me my successes, even ones as small as making it through a medical appointment without crying. Remind me that I am more than an infertile person. Help me by sharing your strength.Eventually I will be beyond the struggle of infertility. I know my infertility will never completely go away, because it will change my life. I won't be able to return to the person I was before infertility, but I also will no longer be controlled by this struggle. I will leave the struggle behind me, and from that I will have improved my skills for empathy, patience, resilience, forgiveness, decision-making and self-assessment. I feel grateful that you are trying to ease my journey through this infertility struggle by giving me your understanding."

It helps to have Mike, someone that understands to the best of his ability what's going on. So for that I'm grateful.