Coming to Terms with Surrogacy

Dec. 6th was the day that it was confirmed that I cannot get pregnant. Four hysteroscopies and one abdominal myomectomy later, my doctor told me that there were countless inoperable fibroids remaining throughout my uterus and that an embryo would fail to implant. He gave me the option to try yet another round of Lupron or Fibristal (I have now lost count of how many times I have taken both of these medications in the past) and to try another hysteroscopy later in the year. At first, I agreed to another round of Fibristal as I steadfastly refused to give up on my mission of getting pregnant. I have clung on for 10 years. Endured not only the 5 fibroid surgeries but several ER visits and blood transfusions in between. Literally, blood, sweat (lovely side effect of Lupron!), and tears. I don’t even want to think about how much money had been spent on tampons and pads. And time off from work. But the next day, his advice haunted me. Even though he had given me that option, he was upfront when he said that my best chance of pregnancy would be using a gestational surrogate.

And so I waved my white flag and told the office of my change of plan. These last two months have not been easy. I have fought hard for 10 years. I somehow managed to get through the holidays. Drowning my sorrows into food, my clothes are now tighter. My depression came back with a vengeance and I had bouts of uncontrollable crying and sobbing. Those unwanted dark thoughts crept in from the shadows. The few friends and coworkers that I eventually told gave me looks of pity while I put on a brave face. I felt that nobody I spoke with understood how I felt. I have pretty much hidden at home, cuddling up with my kitty, avoiding social contact as much as possible. Feeling beaten down by life, I am pretty sure I now walk with a slump. .

One day, my spirits were high enough for me to take a look online at surrogacy agencies. There were two possible options and I decided to go with the cheaper of the two. I emailed them and had a thick package promptly sent to me. I had it printed out…and it sat untouched on my desk for probably a month. About 2 weeks ago, I finally decided that I could avoid it no longer. I have two frozen embryos waiting for a home. The surrogacy agency had told me it would take 12-18 months to find a surrogate. It was time to get started.

The agency had sent me a package meant for a couple even though I had said that I was a single mother by choice. Things with S have been pretty good lately. Do I list him as Intended Parent 2? Will a surrogate be harder to find if they see there is only one Intended Parent? If I did put S as IP #2, how would I explain our complicated situation? We are not married, not even common-in-law. His mother hates me and his family wants nothing to do with me. Why are we living separately? Why did I do IVF using donor sperm instead of S’s? I asked S what he thought. He was unsure. I was unsure. In the end, I decided to only list myself as the Intended Parent. I started this journey by myself, I am going to finish it by myself. Yes, S will be in my life as well as the child’s. We will eventually buy a house and live together. He will most likely be the father figure in the child’s life and he will love the child dearly. But for right now, these two little waiting embryos are mine. S admitted recently that he is now feeling okay with not having kids since he can spend time with his two little sisters and that is enough for him. It reaffirmed what was in my heart…I should be the only Intended Parent.

I filled out the questionnaires without a problem. I contacted my family for old family photos I could use. How could I summarize my life in 10-15 photos?? I wanted a photo of everyone who was important to me. The surrogate needs to know that I have a village of support for my future child. Any photo that didn’t have me smiling brightly was removed from the group. I was to write a personal profile of 1-3 pages. When I finally stopped putting it off, I churned out 5 pages so I had to really trim it down. I mentioned S as my boyfriend. I felt that it was better to be honest so I wrote about my troubled past with fibroids and depression. It felt so good to finally submit the entire package yesterday. And now the wait begins.


Reflection on My First IVF Cycle

I can breathe again. My first IVF cycle has officially been completed. I do feel pretty fortunate that it went relatively smoothly and I can’t believe it’s over already. It certainly is not an endeavor for the faint-hearted. You are on edge constantly and the whole process is incredibly unpredictable. I feel physically (from all the early mornings, sleepless nights, and vials of blood drawn) and emotionally drained at this point and literally slept half the day away today.

Luckily I only had a few bumps during the month. Not like the couple in “Friends From College” on Netflix – I watched episode 4 on the day I did my trigger shot and I definitely recommend it for a good laugh and some stress relief! I had the delays in getting the whole cycle started, the sudden appearance of a cyst that raised my E2 level resulting in another delay, and the egg retrieval procedure wasn’t a walk in the park. Apparently my ovaries are high up so the retrieval was difficult and painful despite the twilight sedation I was under. Two nurses had to push HARD on my torso to help the doctor retrieve the eggs from my ovaries. Of course, I am still a bit sore and it has been a week already. And I found out I do not react well to Fentanyl. I was completely out of it afterwards and both of my eyelids swelled up. Thankfully S came to pick me up after the procedure and was an angel in preparing a couple of meals for me that lasted through the week.

This past week has been the most nerve-wracking week of them all (I’m sure fellow IVFers can certainly attest to this!). My anxiety was at its peak levels when waiting for the phone call from the clinic every morning (sometime between 8:00-10:00) to see what the latest lab update was.

Day 1 – 7 mature eggs had been retrieved, 4 eggs fertilized

Day 2 – 4 embryos divided

Day 3 – 3 embryos divided again, there was hope that the 4th one would catch up

Day 4 – 4 good quality embryos developing normally

Day 5 – only 2 embryos were good enough to make it to freeze (the clinic only freezes good quality day 5 blastocysts)

Day 6 – other 2 embryos did become blastocysts but were of poor quality and I was told that they would have implanted but would not have any further fetal development

I am very disappointed that I wasn’t able to produce more eggs so I had low numbers (hard to take when you read online about all these other women older than me who had such high numbers!) but I also know that I should be very grateful that I have two strong little snow babies right now waiting for me. I just have to continue with trying to maintain this positive energy and hopefully I will have one of them nestled securely in me soon.

Now that my embryos are ready and waiting, it is time to put the finishing touches on a healthy home for them. I will be having my 5th and final surgery in less than two weeks. I am really hoping that this hysteroscopy will be successfull in removing many fibroids and boost my chances of pregnancy up from the current 50%. I wish I knew when I will be able to do my FET after this procedure. Maybe after a month or two?

I can’t believe I have made it up to this point! After all of these miserable years, I am so close to possibly having a baby! I am trying to stifle my excitement as you never know. But hard to keep it from bubbling up inside because I never thought I would be here! And on my own too! Other than S and my therapist, I haven’t told another soul about my two embryos yet. It is so hard to keep it a secret. I might….might…tell one of my good friends. And I know I will have a hard time not telling my mom. I guess we’ll see how long I can keep this good news to myself…

Green Light to Stim!

When I had my baseline appointment last week, the Dr. found an estrogen-producing cyst on my right ovary that was causing my Estradiol to be 392, which was way too high. So they kept me on Lupron (10 units) for an extra week. After spending way too much time on Google looking up estrogen-producing cysts, high levels of E2, and delayed/cancelled IVF cycles, I had hope when I read that getting your period may help the cyst disappear and E2 levels would drop. It was possibly the first time I was thanking the heavens when I got my period on Saturday. Not sure how much validity is in this, but I also tried cutting out meat/dairy products over the next few days in hopes that that would help reduce my estrogen level.

I went back for an ultrasound and bloodwork on Thursday and the Dr. could no longer see the cyst anymore! A few hours later, I got confirmation that I was good to start stimming the next day as my E2 had decreased to 91.8…woohoo!!! I am cutting it extremely close with this IVF cycle as I am booked for a hysteroscopy on Nov. 6. Hopefully all will go smoothly with this round of FSH meds and that egg retrieval will be able to happen before that date.

Since my memory is at the level of a 78 year-old, I had pretty much forgotten all of the injection training I had received at the clinic 3 weeks ago. Maybe I should have taken up the nurse’s offer to borrow the teaching tools to practice at home (yes, I was that bad…!!)…Thankfully the clinic’s website has training videos on it. I don’t know if it’s just me or if others doing IVF feel the same way but I was incredibly stressed about doing these injections. I can’t believe I was worried about the Lupron injection before! Now that is the easiest one. I was to reduce Lupron to 5 units, use Puregon (350 units), and Menopur (150 units).

S and I have been on decent terms lately. Kind of being like friends. We text each day wishing each other good morning and good night and occasionally get together for a meal or movie. But other than hugs, a kiss on the forehead (from him) and the use of the kissing emoji, we awkwardly avoid any other form of romantic contact. Anyway, he knew I was feeling really anxious about these injections so he offered to come by after work to help me. My anxiety overtook any pride/independence I was feeling and I quickly took him up on his offer. As I carefully laid out each item (oh my god, so many!!) with the corresponding instructional pamphlet, he watched the training videos.

#1 – Lupron: Easy peasy!

#2 – Puregon pen: Was the second easiest. Thank god, my dose was simple so I needed one vial exactly. Hurt a little more than the Lupron syringe and bled a little bit.

#3 – Menopur: The one I was dreading as there was mixing involved. We did get confused about how much saline to use as I needed two vials of the powder. We decided to use 1 mL since the pamphlet said that is typically the dose. As I injected, it definitely felt like a lot more liquid going in and it was the most painful. With this one, I bled the most and was a bit sore afterwards. This is the only time that I was glad that I have a good amount of fat on my mid-section.

#4 – Tuxedo truffle cake that S brought: It did feel like it was a cause for celebration to get the first day of stimming injections over with. I was very relieved and also very thankful that S could be there with me to assist (mostly keeping me calm, reminding me of little things I forgot, and not letting me second-guess myself).

The whole process took about an hour, which is probably really long, but I’m sure if it was by myself that time would double. I will be attempting this again on my own in a few hours so hopefully I will get through it okay!




First IVF Injection Day!

Today is my first injection. I am trying to psych myself up. I can do this. Think of how many other SMBCs have been able to do these injections on their own. Were you as nervous as I am? I am so scared of needles that out of the countless regular blood tests I have had done, I look away every single time the needle goes in. Shit. This is supposed to be the easiest out of all the injectable medications too. I can do this. Breathe. I can do this.

Realizing I Was Meant To Be a SMBC All Along

This was the last sunset we watched together. It was a good year. We had both tried our best to enjoy the moment and be in the present. In my opinion, it was one of the best and most stable years of our nearly 5 year relationship. Despite the elephant bolted steadfastly in the room (his mom), we seemed to be in some form of semi-domestic bliss. We both still had our separate residences but he spent the majority of the time at mine. Life became routine – running errands, cooking healthy meals, cleaning, working, spoiling kitty, attending family gatherings…mine anyway. I have not seen his family for about a year and a half now. He pretty much lived two separate lives. And so it could only last for so long before coming to an abrupt end.

Over the past year, I changed to a new doctor at a fertility clinic. I patiently awaited surgery to be performed by him, as well as another doctor, whom I had met in the spring. I had a really good feel from him as well. He was extremely experienced in working with patients with fibroids and infertility. He was soft-spoken, kind, and patient. I was so confident going into surgery with two of the top professionals in the field operating on me. The healthcare system in their city was also more advanced than the one here. The hospital had contacted me weeks prior to the abdominal myomectomy and had prepared me to be in the best physical shape I have ever been in before surgery. To prevent needing a blood transfusion afterwards due to my anemia, they upped my iron and also had a couple of injections that were supposed to help build red blood cells. My doctor had me on two courses of Fibristal before that as well.

Even though this surgery was a much bigger one than the hysteroscopies I’ve had in the past, I recovered amazingly well. It was the first time I was not sick to my stomach after waking up (ok, the hospital was very generous with their drugs) and I was pretty much healed by the time 6 weeks rolled around. Of course it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine at first. Hurt like hell when I laughed or sneezed (pillow trick was a must) and I was extremely exhausted and slept many extra hours over those weeks. But the four biggest fibroids were finally out! Since then, my periods have still been heavy with clots but significantly shorter. I also don’t feel the pain and pressure like I did before.

Unfortunately, my battle with fibroids has not reached its conclusion quite yet. During my follow-up appointment (which I went to alone since S could not leave work), the doctor said that if I were to try to conceive in my current state, my chances would be cut by 50%. So we decided we will give surgery one final go. In a couple of months, I will have one last hysteroscopy to remove as many of the remaining smaller fibroids as he can. He also told me that there is now new research claiming more success with frozen, rather than fresh, embryos. We discussed when to start IVF. I knew that with my uterus freshly cleaned up and my age creeping up to 37, I was eager to get started right away. And also with how smoothly my relationship with S has been going, he shouldn’t have a problem with this, right? I left the office with my thick package of IVF consent forms to read and sign, a prescription for birth control pills to help regulate my cycle, and an appointment date for a sonohysterogram. Now I just needed S to read and sign the papers and have them witnessed. Oh yeah, and there’s also the matter of getting $15,000.

I think it was nearly 5 weeks into my recovery and after much nagging and pestering about the consent forms, S and I were on the way to my mom’s to have her be the witness. Everything happens for a reason. The mantra of my life. S had been acting cold and distant in the days coming up to that moment. Coincidentally, his mom had also just returned from a month-long vacation (*sigh*). We ended up having a big fight on the drive over. It was like the whole year of fragile peacefulness had built up to this explosion of resentment and despair. And it was directly aimed at me. Depression never completely disappears. As many of us who have it know, it is managed. Controlled. And when someone is in denial about it, it is only a matter of time before you are consumed by it.

The same speech escaped his lips. I wistfully yearned for the lost year when those words and feelings were masquerading as happiness. He could not do this anymore. How could we bring a child into this situation? He needed to wait until the circumstances improved. I told him his mom will never like me. It will never change. It will be like this forever. I was now the broken record. We cannot change others, only ourselves…blah…blah…blah. By this point, I had already screamed at him to turn the car around. He had the audacity to act surprised. At least we were on the same page now, we could not create a child together to be in this disaster of a situation.

Out of all the fights we have had over these years, the ammunition used in this particular one tore up my flesh and left me scarred. He blamed me for everything that was wrong in our relationship. It was my fault that his mother did not like me. It was my fault that I could not see his family and was never invited to their gatherings. It was my fault Christmases are now ruined for him and that he has anxiety about the upcoming one. She is an angel, Mother Teresa; no human shall speak an ill word about her. Never shall any utter words signifying anything less of perfection when it comes to her. I had never seen such devotion and loyalty. This is not healthy. This is not normal.

Oh, the irony that his literal blindness in one eye caused such devout blindness towards the woman who bore him and who sadly also blamed him for the childhood accident that caused him to lose his eye.

I, on the other hand, had not seen clearer than I did at that moment. He would always view me as a terrible woman. I would never win and he will never take my side. His mother will always be his number one and I would always have to fight for second place. I know, in the deepest of my heart, that I am not a terrible person. Sure, I have done terrible things just like every other person on earth. But as all my closest family and friends know, I have always lived my life by doing what I do best, by helping others, which is why I choose the jobs I do. If he does not see who I really am, how can he say he loves me?

Since that day a month ago, we have barely spoken. I do not want my child to be in a destructive and dysfunctional environment. I grew up in one and barely made it to today and like any decent mother, I am going to protect my child from anything or anyone who will do harm. Life is already challenging as it is and if I can provide a happy, healthy home surrounded with positive energy, things will be easier to bear.

I don’t know if I will ever be able to create this family and whether or not it’s in the stars, but I do know in my heart that I need to try on my own. This is where my path divides from his.

Go Away Big Green Monster


I have managed to be okay over the last two months. Today was one of the few days when feelings of sadness and envy brewed into threatening tears. Amidst all the glowing faces and growing bellies (and not the binge-y kind like the one I have now shamefully developed) in my workplace, I overheard one of my coworker’s happy pregnancy announcement, which was promptly met with cheers and celebration. Tiny little needles pierced each cell in my heart. As I stood up and felt the oh-so-familiar trickling sensation of the beginning of yet another period, I could not wait to get the hell outta that room. Thankfully I was almost off.

I refused to give in to tears. I breathed…in…..and…..out……..and…..out…Just like what my therapist taught me. Yes, I am sad. Yes, I am jealous. I am feeling those feelings. In…..and….out….And I let it go. Go away big green monster.

A month ago, I had my third surgical hysteroscopy. This time, surprisingly, I didn’t experience the crippling anxiety and fear beforehand. I guess I was now in a position of being able to accept the fact that I may not be able to bear a baby within my own womb.

Well, the surgery went well as far as I know. My hemoglobin level managed to hold so I did not need a blood transfusion and did not need to stay in the hospital longer than one night. And as far as me and my family doctor could tell from the operative report, my OB-GYN had removed as much as he could of the fibroids within my uterus. I will not be able to see him for another 3 weeks so I don’t quite know his thoughts on my fertility yet.

I had been putting off contacting the fertility clinic. The doctor there had asked me to call her once there was a surgery date. I had figured, what’s the point? I probably won’t be getting pregnant anyway. And S and I had casually been talking about the possibility of maybe doing IVF in the Czech Republic since it was significantly cheaper than in Canada.

Anyway, I did end up calling her post-surgery. I told her it had gone smoothly and she asked me if I was ready to go ahead. I told her that I would prefer to start with IUI if possible. Oh and by the way, my boyfriend has now decided to become involved…I give her credit for barely flinching at this sudden change of plans.

So now I am supposed to get a SHG next month and then go meet with them at the clinic at the end of September. In the meantime, S will need to get all the appropriate tests done.

Since the surgery, I have been feeling great physically, which likely has helped me feel pretty good emotionally as well. So far my hemoglobin levels seem to be stable and at the highest that I am able to maintain with my thalassemia. I have been able to get 7 or 8, instead of 11, hours of sleep at night and feel alert in the morning. I have color in my face and my lips are a nice red color. I was impressed with how thick and dark my blood in the tubes were when I had my blood drawn yesterday.

S and I went on a romantic weekend get-away to the mountains earlier in the week and I even managed a 3 hour hike and a morning trail ride on horseback. Even had a steamy quickie on the moss and pine needles of the forest floor 😀

Things with S have been pretty amazing over the past while. He hasn’t had too many depressive episodes lately. And neither have I. As we had been brilliantly advised, we are both trying not to go into the past or into the future and to just enjoy each moment and each day as it comes. This has really helped me curb my anxiety about the future.

Trying my best not to think about babies, pregnancy, fibroids, infertility (which is I suppose why I have distanced myself from this blog and other related blogs as of late) has given me the space to get out there and mindfully embrace the moments of each day. And with all this in the background for the first time in the longest time, I am reveling in simply being in love.

Until next time,



How things have changed over the past couple of months after I found out that I was unable to conceive…I have transformed into this recluse, only coming out to see the light when I have to go to work, a medical appointment or the obligatory family get-together (thankfully not that many lately). I still cannot manage to see any of my friends for fear of having to talk about my fertility issues.

My only true confidante has been S. He has been so kind and understanding. One weekend morning, I could not manage to get out of bed and tried to stifle my crying so he couldn’t hear while he prepared our breakfast. When I finally could pull myself together, he didn’t try to comfort me with false hopes or try to talk about the reason behind those tears. He simply asked me if I was feeling a little better, to which I nodded. I just needed to get that sudden intense pain out of my system when it hits.

I have been nudging my heart in the way of preparing myself for the very real possibility of finally losing my uterus and the notion of bearing a child in my own body. I guess it is like a relationship that just has not been working. I am slowly distancing myself, becoming less attached so that when the time comes, it won’t hurt as much. My therapist asked me how I managed to get to this point. I told her I don’t know. Maybe it’s that I have removed those blinders she pointed out that I was wearing for the first part of this year and that I am now opening up to other ways of having a child. I have mainly been toying around with the idea of surrogacy.

The next thing I am now waiting for is another hysteroscopy next month when my doctor will attempt to tackle the fibroids once again. A second one would be needed in the fall and he would like me to try IVF right after that if they are indeed successful.

I have mixed feelings about IVF. I had not planned to go that route initially. I really do not know if I want to go on that rollercoaster. First of all, I am constrained by finances so I could maybe only be able to afford one or two attempts. Secondly, I don’t know if I want to open my life to additional emotional and physical stress and for it to carry through the entire pregnancy.

Oh yeah, and to throw yet another twist into the mix, S has now decided to become a part of this journey towards parenthood…



“I have never seen a HSG like this before”


I have not been doing well, which is why I have not been writing lately. I just could not stand to be around anything pregnancy/baby related and I now regret having the word “mom” in the name of my website. I saw my doctor last week and he confirmed my fears. With the current condition of my uterus, I have very low fertility and will not be able to get pregnant. He told me that he has never seen results of an HSG test like mine. And this is coming from a very experienced, older doctor. Once again, I prove to be an exception and continue to keep my special patient status aka “pain in his ass” (verbatim from him). Gotta love his blunt sense of humor.

This fucking Judas uterus.

My right fallopian tube is distorted and blocked, possibly by a fibroid. So he wanted me to see what the fertility clinic he referred me to would say. I just had my consultation. $200 for a 15 min. telephone consultation. The doctor pretty much verified some information on the patient history form I had filled out online. She told me that my doctor will have to do surgery to remove the fibroids as a last ditch effort. That he will need to be aggressive and optimize my uterus for pregnancy as much as he can. If this is possible, I am supposed to contact them again to proceed with IVF. I inquired about the pricing and as I had suspected, the price is astronomical once you add everything up.

I promptly booked an appointment with my doctor to discuss surgery once again. We were originally holding off to help preserve my fertility but guess at this point I don’t have it anyway. Maybe my uterus is too ravaged with fibroids to save anyway. I know I need to start refocusing from hoping to become a mom to getting used to the very real possibility that I can avoid a hysterectomy no longer.

A couple of weeks ago, my brother, who’s a doctor, voiced his concerns about my medical situation to me. He believes that both my OB-GYN and family doctor are irresponsible and wrong in supporting my decision to try for pregnancy. He warned me of how anemia gets worse with pregnancy and also the possibility of post-delivery hemorraghing (as a single mother, who would take care of my baby if I’m gone?). He is adamant that with my consistently low hemoglobin levels, I am risking my life by continuing trying to become pregnant.

Initially I was very upset and defensive when he brought all this up. He made me cry. But after a while of carefully considering the points he brought up, passing on his concerns to my OB-GYN as he requested, and looking things up online, I realized that what he was saying was valid. He has a right to be concerned and I know he was only telling me these things because he cares. He doesn’t want me to sacrifice my life in order to bring a baby into this world. He is a good, thoughtful and intelligent brother so there is certainly weight to his words.

I have not told him yet that I have thought over what he said. I had simply thanked him for his concern at the end of our conversation. On some level, though it pains me to admit it, I know what he is saying is true. I ended up having to go to the ER again this past weekend for another blood transfusion since my hemoglobin level dropped again. Though I am a bit ashamed to admit it, I was not even planning to let my family know this since it only justifies that I am barely hanging in there. But by chance, my mom called me while I was in the waiting room and I was never one to lie.

Right now, I continue to stay suspended in this fog of sadness, wrapped up in avoidance by eating my sorrows away and playing this mind-numbing zombie game on my phone. At least when I am working, I am busy enough to forget my troubles for those few hours. But even in my dreams, the feeling of my baby hopes slipping away continues to haunt me. I woke up in the wee hours of this morning, hyperventilating in a panic from a dream of my best friend (who is due next week) having a daughter and was asking me about my pregnancy situation. That is how badly I am dread talking about my infertility to the people in my life.

I feel myself drifting away into depression once again. Good thing I have an appointment with my therapist this Friday.

I really wish I had named my blog differently. At this moment in time, I am most definitely not hopeful, nor is there a good chance that I will be becoming a mom anytime soon.


Dear Kindred Spirits


To my sisters in the online infertility community…

I read about your struggles, your joys, each step along the way in trying to bring forth a life you already deeply love even before it materializes into flesh and blood. We are bonded by this indescribable desire for a baby and we somehow manage to face these incredible challenges with the insurmountable strength, will and courage of a superhero(ine).

I admire each and every one of you, and I feel so grateful that there is such a supportive online community of ladies who have the dream of motherhood ever-present in their hearts.

Since my HSG test a couple of days ago when I found out that there is a problem with one of my fallopian tubes (hopefully just one…) and that this is yet another hurdle I will have to face, along with the innumerable amount of fibroids and polyps I have; my spirits have been shot. I feel numb; like a zombie going through the motions of everyday life. It’s been a beautiful start to Spring here and I feel like I should be reveling in the sunshine, breathing in the much warmer air, and looking forward to finally packing away my boots and winter gear and doing all of the wonderful outdoor activities we only have 6 months of the year (sometimes less!) to enjoy.

I did go online and found some success stories of women who have been able to deliver healthy babies even though they only had one working tube and fibroids/polyps. This definitely did make me feel a little better and I no longer felt like the world was crashing down on me like I did on Tuesday.

But the anxiety of seeing my doctor next Tuesday to find out the final results of the HSG test and whether or not IUI is off the table now with IVF being the only option left, has me on edge. If this is the case, my brief journey may then be over. I looked up the costs (our provincial healthcare as well as my work insurance does not cover anything fertility related) and for one cycle of IVF, it will be at least triple the amount I had planned for a couple cycles of IUI. I am limited in finances as a preschool teacher since my fibroids condition and thalassemia prevents me from being able to work full-time. I had tried to apply for a loan last year for some major emergency dental work (damn rollerblading accident years ago!) and they rejected me since I wasn’t making enough income. So I know that won’t be an option unless I maybe try another bank…The only other possibility that has entered my mind is maybe selling my beloved little loft and moving in with my mom…She is great but of course this is not ideal after being accustomed to living on my own for what feels like eternity.

Facing this possible fork in the road, I am struggling these days.

I am surrounded by pregnant teachers all around me at work and my best friend is due with her first in the next little while. I have been avoiding contacting another friend who gave birth recently. Yes, I do feel guilty about that. My baby niece and her parents will be in town this weekend and I will be babysitting her for the very first time. Originally, I was over the moon excited about it but now I admit that I am dreading it. I know, it’s selfish. Must stifle this green-eyed monster. Unfortunately, (or rather, fortunately I suppose) I do not have any family or friends (that I know of anyway) who have or had any fertility issues so I feel really alone in that regard. I know that if I really wanted to talk to some of them, I could; but how can someone understand when they don’t face infertility themselves? I tried to look up to see if there are any local infertility meet-ups but so far, I have been unsuccessful. There must be though and I will continue looking. Although these last couple of days, with the exception of S, I have isolated myself from everyone and have absolutely no desire to converse with anyone.

I know that I am a bit more short at work with people, shameful to say, that this includes the little ones. Good thing the weekend is coming up. I will also admit (so much easier to type it rather than to say it out loud to someone) that my relatively clean and healthy diet has been straight out the window and has been replaced with ranch chips, pizza, cookies and cream chocolate and vanilla wafers. I know I will need to stop this self-pity and emerge from this saturated fat, black hole at some point soon. I know that doing some meditation, yoga or Buddhist reading would probably help my emotions but it is just one of those times that I just cannot muster the strength or motivation to do it. I am glad that the antidepressants are preventing me from falling down too far and I have been trying to book an appointment with my therapist for next week. I am aware of all the resources and ways to help raise my spirits again. I just wish I could somehow reach deep inside my soul and find that yearning again soon to give me enough strength and guidance to keep me standing in this battle.

After tirelessly crusading against the inevitable treatment of these inoperable fibroids being a hysterectomy, and suffering from the constant bloodshed and literally having my life drain away for the last 9 years or so, I don’t know how much longer I can stick it out for.

Maybe fate is telling me I can put off the hysterectomy no longer.

If I am somehow miraculously able to conceive, it will be another battle in itself to keep that pregnancy. I see how many of you out there face pregnancy loss after pregnancy loss, over and over again and I don’t know if I am strong enough to be like you.

I have lived through an abusive childhood, depression and being suicidal, losing all my hair to Alopecia, a couple of cancer scares, going about each day with a hemoglobin level averaging around 80, major financial debt, heartbreaks from men all along the way, and the presence of a real-life Mommie Dearest in my relationship with S.

And yet I feel like this is what is finally going to break me.

To my fellow sisters alongside me on this long-winding road – How do you do it? How do you manage to always pick yourself up after each and every setback and keep staying hopeful??