Saturday, February 25, 2012

Secondary infertility.

I'm sure you've heard it said that a woman trying to lose ten pounds feels kinship with the woman who has been trying to lose 100 lbs. that is the sort of boat I find myself in currently. Not so much with the weight loss (though it would be nice to redistribute the weight I do carry), but with babies. I have one, you see. He's two and some change, and I'd like one more before I hang up my birthin' boots. I have friends with zero babies who want them as much as I would like to give E a sibling.

But it's not happening. For them or me. No kinship though because I already made one baby, I'm out of the club.

Three cycles have gone charted and unprotected. Three cycles of negative tests. Two cycles came with heartburn, nausea, an appetite, hope! And not even a false positive.

I had a discussion about it with a friend a few nights ago who disagreed that it can be called infertility yet... but I think it can. Especially when the cycles get shorter each month. Something is broken.

I could probably grow to accept my son being an only. I could maybe put the midwife savings toward my education.i could do lots of things, but right now I think I might just cry. Cry about being broken. Cry about having been so freaking CAREFUL the last two years. There were entire weeks I avoided my husband to be sure there were no accidents, all to find out that it would not have mattered.

So, I guess my next step is doctor involvement. Blood draws and testing to find out why each cycle is shorter, more violent, and unproductive. *sigh*