sutton016

I was lying down on my therapist’s couch doing what I often do: Staring at the blank white walls wondering what paintings I would hang up if it were my office. I don’t know why I was thinking of this as A) this is not what I go to therapy for and B) if I did have an office, I wouldn’t have picked the one she did. It’s not that it’s a bad office. It’s just very, very small and with the white walls, lying down and the claustrophobic space, I often feel like I’m getting an MRI when I’m there. As I pondered décor choices, my therapist asked, “ Why do you still think you feel ashamed of having fertility issues? ” “ Because everyone else around me can get pregnant without a problem! ” I answered. She gave a long sigh. She tends to do this a lot during our sessions. She said, “ You’re using one circle of friends who did not have fertility issues and are broadening it out to say that all women are able to have children except you in order to unconsciously justify your anger, jealousy and sense...

Talk about a change in attitude? Yes, I still don’t understand the injustices of life (Exhibit A: The success of the reality shows, “Jersey Shore” and “Keeping Up with the Kardashians”) and yes, I’m still very hurt and bitter towards my first reproductive endocrinologist for being such a f*ck stick. However, I’ve decided to move forward because… well… basically… what other options do I have? This cycle is an all around fresh and hopefully fun start in the working towards conceiving department. On Sunday, in anticipation of my LH Surge this coming week, I cleaned our apartment, took out my thermometer, laid out all my ovulation prediction kits, decorated the bedroom with vanilla scented candles, made sure the sperm friendly lubricant was ready to go and I tried to locate my Catholic School Girl outfit which my husband adores despite the fact that he’s an atheist. I want to not only be conception ready, but I want to literally have fun trying. It’s strange to say but having fer...

When I was a kid, I loved Etch-A-Sketch. I loved the idea of taking a clean slate, putting whatever the hell I wanted on it (even though I could never work those effen’ knobs the way I wanted to) and then, when everything looked like a big mess, shaking it clean again. I think it’s time to shake my internal Etch-A-Sketch clean. Let’s briefly review: My name is Jay and I’m a freelance writer in the Big Apple. I’ve married another writer; who is adorable and possess the cutest butt you ever did see (not that that’s relevant but I just like mentioning it). We got married two years ago and in that time, fertility issues and financial crap from the fertility issues have attempted to sh*t on our dreams. Trust me – that’s the nicest way I could put it. We’ve gone through more ovulation prediction kits than I care to remember, three inseminations (one on Valentine’s Day… how romantic!), one IVF, an incompetent asshole doctor, insurance bills up the ying yang, and one recent uterine polyp remov...

Today is Cycle Day #1. I’m feeling like Aunt Flo is a stalker I can’t shake. Can you actually file a restraining order against your period? I’ve been thinking lately about how I was when we first started to try to get pregnant. I was thinner, enthusiastic and diligent about everything I put in my body. Every two week wait, I behaved as if I were pregnant. I’d stop Advil, only used organic make-up; I wouldn’t touch a cleaning product and would read every possible item in my home to see if it contained anything that might hurt my imagined pregnancy. With the arrival of my bitchy Aunt, I have just completed the first two week wait after my polyp was removed and I must say the experience was extremely different. In the last few weeks, I’ve used dandruff shampoo, I had tuna fish for lunch several times, I took my migraine medication over the weekend and I wore an icy hot patch on my knee a yesterday. It’s so funny to me that “being bad” is having TWO cups of coffee. Ooooo, I’m a rebel! Look...

When I started blogging about my fertility (or lack their of) issues in March 2010, I had no idea where it would take me, who I would meet and what it would eventually mean to me. Yes, blogging gives me an outlet and keeps me sane (mostly) but it's also introduced me to so many people, fellow bloggers and women like me who just want to get knocked up. Whenever I make a mental list of what good has come out of my trying to conceive saga, I always list this blog, my readers and the fellow fertility challenged friends I've made. The Fertility Blogs ( http://thefertilityblogs.com/ ) who has been following my blog here on Blogger, recently asked if I would write something just for their website. The Fertility Blogs is a fertility/infertility community website that provides information, support and a means for ANYONE (including you) to share their thoughts, feelings and anecdotes as they work towards starting a family. I, of course, was honored and accepted...

I have a personal motto: Until I’m able to make fun of it, I can’t talk about it. This is something I’ve learned about myself over the years. The trouble is that lately, I’m having a difficult time thinking of jokes about my quest to get knocked up. It’s like my funny bone is broken. Well, maybe not broken but definitely fractured at the very least. Since I started this blog, I’ve received so many generous compliments on how I seem to find the humor in trying to conceive. These comments, emails and sentiments have meant the world to me and have kept me going. This is why I feel terrible that I haven’t written in awhile and that I seem to have misplaced my humor. I’ve looked under the couch, in my purse, in the fridge and several other possible places but it’s temporarily missing in action. WANTED: MY SENSE OF HUMOR. LAST SEEN SEVERAL WEEKS AGO AT A FAMILY DINNER. What’s taken its place seems to be a slew of emotions I haven’t dealt with. When you’re going through inseminations, docto...