I thought about putting an inspirational infertility quote here, but instead I'll share that once I got out of a moving vehicle while on Clomid. I was hormonal, enraged and hulking out. I was a lurched animal in a cage.  Once I escaped, I walked for blocks while my husband slowly drove next to me. Eventually I cried it out, calmed down, and finally got back in the car. He never mentioned it again.

I’m baaaack…

I decided today, Sept. 20, 2018, that I desperately wanted to revisit my blog. There had been something holding me back for the past two years, and I needed to get over it. I couldn’t believe I allowed myself to stop writing for this long.

When I opened up my dusty blog, brushed away the cobwebs between webpages, I discovered I had written, but never published how I was feeling at seven months pregnant.

My first instinct was to delete it. It’s ancient history. But, then I stopped myself. This was a failed attempt of mine to muster up the courage to write again. Before posting my brand spankin’ new perspective, I thought I’d share how I was feeling almost two years ago.

Hope you enjoy, cuz I’m back bitches!

Dec. 1, 2016:

I started this blog mostly as a way to cope with failed infertility treatments. Like I had said in my last post, a solid five months ago, I genuinely didn't expect for IVF to work on the second round.

So once I became pregnant, I literally didn't know what the hell to do with myself. I had lived and breathed infertility for almost three years. Now what? Just be pregnant? Enjoy it? Relax? C'mon now, that's not reality. 

My therapist, who has helped me through this entire process, asked me a few sessions ago why I had stopped blogging. I couldn't come up with any other answer other than "Because, I'm pregnant."

I went home and couldn't stop thinking about it. I absolutely love writing. It's my outlet and my sanity. I didn't want to stop writing this blog. So, what kept me from continuing?

I stopped writing for multiple reasons. I think I originally stopped because I was scared. I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I kept telling myself that when I lost the pregnancy, because I assumed this was too good to be true, then I would blog about it. 

Once I hit 12 weeks, I kind of, sort of, a tiny bit, started to accept the fact that I was, in fact pregnant. I had a ton of fear, anxieties and emotions, but still couldn't get myself to put them in writing.

Then another reason hit me. I felt guilty for finally becoming pregnant. There are so many women who are continuing to struggle or accepting that their journey to parenthood may not be the conventional way they had worked so tirelessly toward. Why did it work for me, but not for others? 

The only reasoning I could come up with why it works for some women and not others, is that it's just fucking unfair. The entire infertility journey is unfair. It's a bullshit thing for anyone to go through, no matter what the outcome may be. 

All I can offer is to continue to blog on about my journey to becoming a parent. 

So, yes I started this blog to talk about failed attempts to get pregnant and the havoc it wreaks on your mind, body and soul. But, what happens when infertility treatments are successful? Does the worry/anxiety/physical stress go away? No. You're just introduced to a whole new set of anxieties you're unprepared for. 

In the animal world, I own that resident.

"I think you have the wrong number."