A shout out to The Lost Stork

I was having a moment. A crazy (in)fertile moment. Well actually, these types of moments happen often with these types of people,. This time I was upset because they don’t care.

Then. I came across this post by The Lost Stork: People I want to punch…

The title made me snicker (yes, us (in)fertiles tend to be more jaded than not), but really it’s about the types of people that you come across on your fertility journey.

Unfortunately for us, some of the people you would assume should care the most don’t in fact give two shits about what’s going on – or at least they don’t show it.

So THANK YOU to The Lost Stork for reminding me that my supporters will always be there. The others don’t deserve my time. My energy is on reserve for baby making.

Check out her post. It’s worth a read.

Riding the emotional roller coaster

I was beyond emotional last week. I cried at least once a day for 6 days straight.

I was feeling uncertain, scared, confused, ashamed, impatient, frustrated, hurt, helpless.

I had no choice but to process each emotion that I had stuffed down since we started our fertility journey.

Through many conversations with friends and family, I was able to uncover the root of my pain.

Infertility treatments do not make me a lesser person. I know this. I understand the journey will give me strength, but that doesn’t make it any less of a challenge.

A change in plan can be devastating. Guess I didn’t realize how strong it would affect me. I am grieving the loss of my original vision. I need to allow myself the time to grieve, to feel the pain. I must allow patience and gentleness into my soul.  I do not expect to overcome my feelings overnight.

Hard is not relative. Hard is hard. Someone else might have an easy time letting go of the stress, the pain and the agony of waiting, but that doesn’t mean that I will have the same experience.

It is hard for me to let go of the hope of conceiving naturally without fertility drugs. I’m willing to try out more invasive options because my desire to become a mother is strong (that and I’m an overly impatient know-it-all – the concept of not understanding WHY just kills me). Once my baby is here, will it make a difference how they were conceived? No. It most definitely won’t.

We still have a chance this month. We are done follicle monitoring. Yesterday, I had one measuring 17mm, one measuring 15mm. The doctor expects me to ovulate, drug-free, within 2 days. I have a requisition to get a progesterone test done next Wednesday to confirm.

So I’m signing off to go home and do the baby dance with my hubby. Then, we’re onto the two week wait. This time, I’m not dreading it. I’m embracing whatever comes. Pregnancy would be the miracle we’ve dreamed of, but my period means we are taking a big step forward into IUI.

Wish us luck either way.

Here I am – out of the (in)fertility closet

I finally came out of the (in)fertility closet.

Yesterday was Follicle Monitoring Session #2.

When I entered that dreaded waiting room yesterday, it PACKED WITH PREGNANT LADIES. I swear out of 15 women, I was the only non-prego besides the receptionist.

Oh that lady is definitely past menopause! She must be here for gynaecological reasons. Nope – she was here with her daughter. Oh that couple looks miserable, they must be (in)fertile too! Nope – they just booked a 12 week ultrasound.

So I turned to Facebook (I thought I told myself to leave FB alone – clearly not working!) and posted the following:


I am beyond grateful for likes, comments and private messages I received. (In)fertility is such a taboo topic, yet I’m not willing to stay silent any longer.

Later that night, I finally told my hubby about this blog.

So here we go folks, my name is Lindsey. I’m a 28 year old woman who lives in Saskatchewan, Canada with my husband and our two fur-babies.

I’m here to share my fertility journey with you – the ups, the downs, and everything in between.

Why I share

Why I share

What’s the plan?

I sat in the waiting room scanning the faces of the other women. I hoped one of them would be in there for the same reasons as me. I wanted her eyes to lock with mine and without a word, we could share a glimpse of mutual understanding.

Unfortunately, everyone avoided eye contact that day. Alone, yet again.

I had my first follicle monitoring ultrasound this morning. I’m currently Cycle Day 12. My largest follicle was measuring 11 mm. Next ultrasound is booked for Thursday afternoon.

My doctor is optimistic that the HSG test may have cleared things out enough for us to get pregnant naturally this month.

She also asked me what our plans are for next month if we don’t get pregnant. OMFG!?!? Really?

That’s the thing about (in)fertility: everything is time-based. You need to make decisions fast.

She suggested we could try a round of drugs with IUI. If we want to start IUI next month, we need to get infection screening blood work done before my next cycle starts.

IUI is a HUGE step for us.

My husband is being really supportive and extra positive. He says by this time next year we will have our baby. He says we will do whatever it takes.

If we move forward with IUI, my vagina will be inspected, probed and inserted many more times. Why do us women have to go through so much? With modern technology, shouldn’t we have options for less invasive procedures?

All most men have to do is get it in a cup – the end result of a pleasurable experience. Lucky them.

I know I have a choice. I contemplated holding off on the IUI, but we’ve reached a milestone. I told myself that if we weren’t pregnant by December that I would move forward with the fertility drugs.

Emotionally, it’s hard to remain hopeful.

I just want to cry.

So instead of focusing on IUI, I’m going to focus on this natural cycle. I will continue with reiki, acupuncture, healthy eats, and minimal stress. One day at a time…

That awkward moment

It happened. The thing that every woman dreads. 

I was at one of my fav boutique stores which features a little bit of everything from furniture to housewares to women and children’s clothing.

The second after I walked in the door, I noticed a beautiful grey glider chair. My heart has been longing for a glider to put in the someday nursery. 

Since the Sales Associate was busy, I took a stroll throughout the store. In the baby section, I found a small gift for a friend who’s due in 3 weeks. 

With the gift in hand, I circled back up to the front of the store and inquired about the price of the glider. The Associate was super friendly. She insisted I sit in it and showed me the colour choices. I told her it’s exactly what I’ve been looking for, but I don’t need it quite yet. 

Then… it happened. 

She asked me when I was expecting. 

Flustered, I responded that I’m not. 

She quickly apologized for assuming. 

And then, I rambled on and on about our fertility journey. Poor thing. I’m not sure she knew what that question would get her into. There was no hope for recovery from this awkward conversation. 

I paid for the gift and left the store almost in tears. 

An (in)fertile’s worst nightmare: the first time I’ve ever been asked by a stranger if I’m pregnant. And I wasn’t even having a fat day. 


H to the S to the G

Yesterday I had a Hysterosalpinogram (HSG) test.

A what?!?!

Basically, a catheter tube is inserted through the cervix into your uterus. An x-ray is done while dye is injected through the catheter to determine if your fallopian tubes are open .

I took 2 regular strength ibuprofen about 2 hours before the test. To start, the pain was minimal. I just felt pressure until they blew that f**king dye into you. I took a few deep breaths and went to my happy place which happened to be under the Eiffel Tower at that moment. The extreme cramping lasted until they removed the catheter about 60 seconds later.

One piece of advice for future HSG-ers: Make sure you sit on the toilet as soon as you possibly can afterwards. I was told to go change in the washroom. I took my time getting there and realized I was dripping a fluid/blood mixture as I went (TMI? I know I can’t help it). Once I sat down on the toilet, there was a quick rush of fluid coming back out. I wore a regular pantiliner (that I brought myself – who the hell wears those hospital versions anyway?). I changed it 2 hours after the test. 4 hours later, I had just minor cramping, minimal spotting. No big deal.

And now for the news we’ve all been waiting for: it’s all good. No issues found.

Check another one off the list.