Fruitility Journey Part Un.

 I have been honestly debating back and forth on writing about this, but honestly... 

this was the whole point of this...right?   The vulnerability... the honesty.. the actual journey. 

I never thought I would get this far to be fair. 

Well we pulled the trigger so to speak, and decided to do this damn thing.  I am not getting any younger and is there ever really the right time to have a baby. 

I could make 100 excuses of why I am not ready.  But I think the only reason I wouldn't really be ready to do this is the fear that my body would once again let me down and would prove my inadequacy to be abundantly clear to God and everyone.

 But screw it, right?  

Well I have started my journey with a fertility center here in Colorado.  They did this amazing thing here where they have actually made it somewhat affordable. 

I went in for my Baseline at the end of July after our phone consultation, where this guy was like Hey you guys are ideal candidates, which I think really just meant that we could relatively afford it.

The baselines were just hella blood being drawn to see what I needed to start taking or stop taking to get this vessel to start vesseling? 

Guess what mother truckers... I was really worried at 32 that I would not have enough stock or eggies left to do this without worrying and homies... she be fertile as a mother.. literally.  Which is awesome and my hubs swimmers be swimming, so to speak.  So that is amazing news.

I had to go in for a test called a Hysterosonogram.. aka the Balloon Test aka how many things can we fit IN there.. 

Yes IN.

So its a saline ultrasound.  The first put in the speculum, and for all my none ladies reading this that means that cold metal pliers looking device to prop your girl open, and then they put in "a very thin catheter" and if you have been following my story you know my hate/hate relationship with catheters... like no one wants that.  And THEN they pump in saline into the uterine cavity AND THEN they, also, put in the ultrasound probe.. or the vaginal wand or whatever you want to refer to it as to see if there are like any abnormalities such as polyps or really anything that could prevent the embryo from implanting in the uterus. 

I know I basically sound like a doctor. It's crazy, right?

But if you read back on that.. that's too many things going on in there.  Almost got caught up and thought my situation was Mary Poppins' bag, huh?  #metoo  Ooo is that an umbrella.. and a watch.. and oh dang not a Land Rover... all of it. 

Well during the test natch I am extremely uncomfortable.. too many things in there and I am not on Porn Hub, and I am not getting paid for this.. I am paying them to torture me.  BUT anyways, after they put Niagara Falls in there and remove the catheter they should be able to see what's going on in there to make sure is just the best looking Ut out there and low and behold as soon as they removed the catheter my Uterus closed up like a venus fly trap.. couldn't see a damn thing.  Well reported by the very nice tech she said that there might be a polyp, which we will have to surgically remove... stop it.. I can't.

I am hoping it doesn't prolong the process, but it might.  We will have to wait and see until we go in for the egg retrieval, which I will already be put under for.  I am not stressed... I am, also, lying. 

I did get all of my meds in which is probably the most aggressive amount of shit I have ever seen in my entire life.  I believe it ends up being around 90 doses of medicine in roughly 5 days and majority of them are shots.  You know I just love me some needles. 

I will start my injections when I start my cycle.. which should literally be any day now.. if I stop stressing out. Which.. I mean calm? me? ever? Literally no.  

Also, some of the medications expire in 2 weeks.. yes.. expire. The definition of use it or lose it. 

It is a lot. and I mean A LOT. And I have been looking up stats which is like Googling your symptoms...never good.  30%...

Do you realize 30% is like what you get on your SAT if you put your name on the exam.. You don't even have to really try anything to get a 30% on anything.. 

But shit... I mean I have come this far.. and 30% is better than 0% right? 

I don't even know anymore.  I have been praying so much and so hard and have to remember to be patient and remain positive regardless of the storm we are weathering. 

I really am just scared. Very scared.  I want to feel deserving, I want to feel confident, I want to feel hopeful and excited. And I am just so nervous for the shoe to drop and to be devastated.  I am petrified to be excited. 

So I will be waiting for my period to start and in the mean time watch videos of people giving themselves shots subcutaneously. 

Holler. 

Off the wagon? On the wagon? Something about a wagon.......

Well I’m back on my bullshit. I swear I only start writing when I’m close to losing my shit. 

Two weeks ago I decided that I was dying. Knees and Spaghetti style with some mild vomiting.  It was my right side that was in excruciating pain.  

If you’ve been keeping up with my shit then you would be like 

Oh man Kels isnt it usually your left side, and I would say yes yes it is but not this day.  

On God I thought I had appendicitis.  Even FaceTimed or whatever Google’s shit is for the time where I can see your face. And pointed to where it hurt like he is a doctor. 

I finished whatever I was doing (I was going to say doing laundry but I don’t do that, and I was going to say cooking but I definitely don’t do that either, but I was doing something) so I waited a minute to call my sister in law to come snag me to drop me off at the hospital. 

They get me checked in pretty quick.  People have been avoiding the hospital like the plague lately.....

Get it.

Well I hobble in there and I end up knowing the scribe.  Cute little thing. 

We end up loading me up on some pain medication to make sure I start to feel some kind of relief because by this point I’m basically dry heaving. 

Well CT scan shows I had a cyst rupture.  COOL. I tried to explain that me having cyst is so 2013 and that I am not looking for a B2B. 

They can’t do anything for ruptured cysts due to it happening already.  So they load you up on hydros, and morphine and you just head on out.  

It’s wild to me how they do that.  

They don’t tell you its going to hurt for days. But what is pain at this point anyways. Constantly feels like a figment of my imagination.  It’s all in your head. 

I swear there is enough shit in my head. 

I have been trying to maintain that its not a big deal at this point. Chronic pain feels so played out. Can a girl get some Chronic Pleasure, or what ever that type of weed is that I smoke.   

Honestly when I talk or preach or feel anything about it, it feels like a broken record. 

I am supposed to make an appointment to see the ultrasound specialist to check out the ovaries to make sure they are chilling where they are supposed to be and they are not covered in cysts, which hoping they aren’t.  Don’t tell my mom or my roommate that I haven’t made the appointment yet. What are they going tell me.   Let’s getttem gone (I live in Oklahoma thats how everyone talks..I’m kidding...I’m not)

Sounds made up... just like when my roommate told me that your periods don’t control if you like someone or not.... SOUNDS ::claps::MADE::claps:: UP.

Anyways, I am putting it off because I’m in the middle of opening up a restaurant and sound like something I don’t have time or effort for. 

I’ll just do what I’m good at which is burn it off a both ends and become a hermit psychopath.

And I know I’ll be the best kind.  

Buck-Up ButterCup

Alright... Listen... I have been on this rocky-road of emotions lately.

It's probably my "hypothetical" time of the month... I say hypothetical because I don't really get one of those anymore.... per se... I mean I still am an emotional roller-coaster during that time and things...happen....

I'll let you guess when it is... don't worry I don't know either.
I did have one boyfriend download the "P. Tracker" App... I think he was just as confused when I would cry and laugh all in the same 10 second span.
And he would plead,

"ITS NOT EVEN TIME YET!"

It's fine.
Anyways,  I noticed I get really down about things when I am stressed out.  And telling me to stop stressing out, stresses me out more.

It's like a never-ending circle of awful for myself.

I have gotten a little less crazy with the stress... like I don't pull my eyelashes out anymore... so that's cool.  Well I try not to...

(By the way that's why I wear false eyelashes, sometimes, because it consciously makes me not do it)

Through this new bout of stress, I want to address something.

I have an amazing life.

I really do.  I am doing very well with my job for an amazing company.  I just moved into a house not too long ago.  I just bought a car.  I have an amazing family.  I have a wonderful dog,  And I have some good close friends.

I have so much to be thankful for.

Everyone goes through something.

I do have to go to the doctor all the time which is a little unfortunate, but
I am still breathing.  I could be the opposite of that.
(I'm not trying to jinx myself here)

I get down about trivial things all the time.  But I have to remind myself.

Why? Why are you letting that effect you?

It's easier said than done.

My favorite thing to do is think about the good times, think about plans I have made.. and the goals I have for myself.

If I let the darkness of self-pity run my life, I would kill myself.
I am so much better than that.
I have too much to offer.

Do I love waking up in pain every day? No, I don't love that.
Do I love that I can't get a date because I can't have a family? No, I don't love that. 
Do I love that I have and my family have spent thousands of dollars on medical bills with no change in getting better? No, I don't love that.
Do I love that I cry over stupid things because I can't get my emotions under-control from the hormones I have to take? No, I don't love that.

But I do love waking up every day. And I do love myself despite the flaws.  And I do love my family.
I know the pain gets hard.  I know, God I know.
I wouldn't wish this kind of pain physical or mental on my worst enemy.

But what makes all of this worth it, is the person I have become from it.

I slip up sometimes and have a little too much to drink and cry a lot and I do mean  A LOT.
And call everyone in my family to hear my tears of self-loathing.
But I am trying.

I am finding my way in these twist and turns of fate.
I never thought in a million years would happen to me. 
I would have never guessed it.

And the hardest part of it all is forgiveness.
I am struggling the most with forgiving myself.

I blame myself for this happening. That I went wrong somewhere and that I deserve it.

I have to remind myself when I feel in doubt,

You are good enough.  This is not your fault.  You are strong. 

If I say it enough to myself, I'll believe it.

I feel like I am getting close.

The main thing that gives me hope, and should give you hope is:

You were put on this earth for a reason, find out that reason.  You are handed all these things in life because you are one of the strong ones. You should view this as a challenge and challenge accepted.


Remember that. Never give up hope.

Trip To The Vagina Doctor

In honor of going to see my gynecologist over 15 times in the last 5 months; let's talk about the dreaded adventures to the vagina doctor.

 Going to see your OBGYN is the most terrifying, required adventure on earth.

Once a year, if you are lucky to only go once a year, as a woman, you are required to go see this man, or woman that you pay to violate you.

For science.

I remember my very first adventure to see the gynecologist.  I was 17 years old.  I wanted to start taking birth control because, back when I use to  bleed once a month, it use to be the worst experience of my whole.

It was like a real life murder.  From the inside out. All of my insides hated me and I would have to get into this fetal position and pray to all things that were holy that I was going to go to church more, if Jesus would just take the pain away.

He didn't, so I had to go see this woman about some pills.

I wasn't ready for a man to analyze what I had to work with.
I still didn't exactly know what I was doing with it anyways, so no need for a man to stare at it and professionally tell me about my downstairs business.

I can't for the life of me remember her name, but she was a military doctor.  She was tall, dark, and handsome.  She was my commentator, and coach.  She would tell me what she was doing when she was doing it, and then would tell me how good of a job I was doing.

I wasn't doing anything, other than staring up at this poster of a beach to tell me to escape to somewhere else and to make sure I never made eye contact with her.

It was anything but enjoyable.

Nowadays, I am a lot less awkward about it.

I have since been to multiple doctors to see my business.  
And I love my current one now.  I trust her with all my goods.

I can't say I am still not awkward about it.

How could you not be.

My post-operation meeting was last Tuesday, and it went really well.  Everything is going according to plan.
Minus the whole fact that my scar tissue is not going to go down.  She told me that I could go to a plastic surgeon to fix it.

This news did cause me to go into a full on panic attack because this is my worst nightmare.
She basically told me that this "cliff" I have on my stomach is
PERMANENT.

I would never see a plastic surgeon for my stomach. I would go for some better like boobs or bigger lips, but not a tummy tuck.  They called it a mommy tuck.

A mommy tuck.

What the hell kind of shit is that.  

I guess I am going to start looking for high-waisted bikini bottoms.  This is bullshit.

Cut me some slack body.
Haven't I made enough sacrifices? 

Oprah in the Spring

Oh the babies are abundant this time of year. 


All the little gremlins are all making their appearances from those steamy summer nights.


I went to see one of my best girl friends brand new baby today.
I was a little apprehensive at first due to my extreme awkwardness around babies to begin with and that this will be the first baby I've actually seen since the surgery. 


I have no idea how I have done it but I have managed to avoid seeing small people until this day. 
Besides social media exposing every single baby bump, new born, and first walks. 


Anyways, I received a message from one of my other dear friends that I hadn't seen since the summer at her baby shower.  I had yet to meet her new baby; not because I didn't want to but because it's honestly really hard to see something so cool and cute and small; and not feel a sense of sadness and jealousy.


I have said it 100 times; I don't want a baby right now, but it begins to haunt your thoughts when you can't. 


Seriously though, this little 7 month old baby was so cool. I, eventually, built up the courage to hold her.  She was like just making all these noises and yelling, but not because she was upset, but she just wanted to make noise.   It was so strange to hold this little human that has thoughts, and facial expressions.  I normally talk to babies like they are just another person.
Baby S and I talked politics, about the time her mom and I did some reckless nonsense, and then I drove her around the hospital room in the baby burrito holder that the new born baby rolled out on..
And of course, I licked her. 


It's my thing.  All of my friends children I have licked.  It's like a good luck thing.


The usual stuff.


I may or may not have had some expression of feelings with saline like forms of water coming from my eyes.


I'm even worse when it comes to new born babies.  I have no idea how to act around them.  Like they are super, duper small and I am not exactly sure what you are suppose to do with them.


Like am I suppose to do something?


These two girls and I use to hang out frequently before our lives all went in different directions.
That being said all of us could go months with out seeing each other and still have a lot of love for each other.  They are very similar to the person that I am.


I  feel like me in a mom form would be very similar to how they are as parents, which is honestly the strangest thing I have ever seen. 
I never pictured either one of these crazy, wild ones as moms but they are, and they are killing it.


I do feel like my situation is a blessing with in itself.  I have no idea what my plan is in life and that's fine. 


Perhaps, I wasn't meant to be a mom. I am kind of uncomfortable when I am around them.


Which is so strange because I am a woman.  I have the parts of being a woman. I just can't do what women do.


Am I like that Britney Spears song, "I'm Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman"? 


My older sister use to sing that song to my younger sister, until she started her period..  Then she would tell her she upgraded to a woman. 


I don't even have a period any more.
I mean that's super tight.
But, what does it mean for me?
I am 25 years old.


It's all very perplexing to think about.


And I do think about all these things. More than I should.


It's all so conflicting when I get caught up in my own mind on decisions I will eventually have to make. 


Will I ever even be able to be with someone long enough to be like will you be my baby daddy, or will  I decide to just not do that?


Will I adopt?


Will I try and go through IVF and have a baby?


Will I ask my sister to be my sister wife and carry my baby, and be a surrogate but have the baby call her Aunt-Mom?


Will I say screw it and never have kids?


I mean they are like a lot of responsibility, and I can barely take care of myself.


This is overwhelming.


I really shouldn't write at night.

Graphic In Nature

I had a very long talk last night with a good friend of mine.  She is going through something so different, yet we can relate so much.


My friend's pelvic floor is completely destroyed due to a form of birth control.  She has endured 3 surgeries in 3 years for 3 different issues involving her reproductive system.  Doesn't seem like a lot, but when you have a full Hysterectomy by the age of 28 due to pain of your pelvic floor, then it becomes a big deal.


Hysterectomy (if you want it in my terms, is the whole thing gone: egg holder, baby holder, and the Bering Strait; all gone) is the real deal. 
You can't go back. But, she had to do this. 

We had a long talk about relationships, our goals, and our struggles.

I felt for her.  She has never wanted to have children so the news of not being able to have one was not as heart-breaking as it would be to some. 
She just wants to be a normal person again.

 See with these surgeries, when you have problems in the "south-pole", they are never really a one-and-done kind of thing. 

When one problem occurs lots of problems could happen, and it can take awhile before you can return to doing the things you love, or even normal activities.

The thing that makes us as woman is in complete jeopardy.

Being as young as we are it makes the whole becoming a woman thing kind of a running joke.

I only had my period for half of my life before it decided to retire. 

People do tell me all the time how lucky I am to not have a period.
Brah...I'll trade you.

I started this blog because of this. 

There are so, so, so many women going through these problems.  They are not just painful on the person itself, but the spirit.

I have been searching for a peer-led support group to help with this because hearing her story (and many of the stories I have heard from people reading my blog) have not only helped her or you by telling it, but it has helped me.  But most groups are for those who have experienced miscarriages, and those who are dealing with infertility with a partner.

I mean, I have no problem showing up alone, but that's what it feels like...being alone.

Family is cool, and friends are great, but if you tell me to adopt or there are other options; I am going to punch you in the face.
You think we don't know that. 
We know the cost.
We know most of the options.

But we are living in a society where women that should have children are on their third or fourth, and I am praying for a miracle, or hoping that maybe 40,000 dollars for adoption will be able to be made in payments.

We just want to hear-
"That sucks."

 Let me vent for a minute, and then tell me a joke.

That's it. Don't try and fix it. Tell me it sucks. Because it does.

And the joke calms my mind. I love to laugh.  This is on our minds most of the time, so any distraction at all to help us forget is exactly what we need.
It's called being a friend.


Seriously though the amount of people that have reached out either with kind words, or to share their stories... Thank you.

Keep it up. The positivity you all spread by your love and honesty is what keeps people like us hopeful.