That's my story and I'm sticking to it

I have a good amount of friends and people I know going through infertility and or infant/pregnancy loss right now, and a  few friends pregnant after struggling to become parents.  Some of these people are struggling with things I can't even fathom feeling. Thinking of what some people go through breaks my heart to no end, and makes me want to express gratitude for all I have, not cause I am bragging, but because I want  to appreciate life  in their honor and give a little hope to someone who might need it. I know that, when I was struggling with infertility and loss, I found hope in the successes of others.

I find myself needing to take time to reflect, as I sit laying awake at this night, unable to sleep, thinking of past struggles I myself have gone through, and how blessed I am in this moment. As my beautiful daughter's first birthday draws near, I can't help but look back at how far we have come. 

Please excuse the cheese that ensues.

Part of me can barely recall those days, and a part of me will  never let it go.

This is a lovely shot of my fertility meds, circa April 2010. Hello, Crinone, HSG, Clomid, Follistim, B6, Treaglga, Folic acid... I do not miss you. (side note: I also do not miss being administered injections from a very injection-giving under qualified math teacher! My poor hubby...)
Every time I am having a busy day, a stressful load, a wiggling, fussy infant in a store, or a "why me" Mommy moment, I look back at this photo I took in the very heart of my struggle to realize my biggest dream- motherhood. It snaps me back into reality every time.
See, I am not one of those girls who dreamt of being some super powerful career woman. There is not a hard core business type bone in my body. Nor am I like my dear friend Jenny, who, when asked in preschool what she wanted to be when she grew up, drew a lovely illustration of herself as a bartender. Nope- this girl has always wanted to be a  MOM. Above all else, this has been my calling for as long as I can have been alive.
About twelve years ago, when I first met one of the most important people in my world, Alicia, we sat on my futon in a dingy college apartment and opened up our souls to one another in our jammies. We had a poignant conversation about motherhood, and how it had to be, just had to be, in both of our futures. We expectations of what was to come. The two of us made a promise to one another, in that moment in what has turned out to be one of the greatest friendships imaginable, that we would have babies for one another if we needed to. That is how much this mean to us. I meant every word when I confessed to her that I had always had a sinking feeling that reaching our shared dream would be hard for me. Nothing in my life, until then, had been particularly difficult, and I just had a thing in my gut telling me that it was going to be a challenge. Ah, foresight- what a bitch.

Fast forward about 5 years, when I married the best man I know. We wanted to wait to start a family, seeing as though we were 25, and wanted to build a marriage on US, and not a family quite yet. We had the best time, traveling, cooking, decorating, laughing together and spending time with the people we love and hold dear. That time in our marriage will forever be special to both of us.  When people ask me if we would have started trying to have kids earlier had I know how tough it would be, I still say no. The five and a half years we spent as DINKS hold precious memories for us, and helped make us as strong as we are today.

After being married for 3 years, we moved out of our townhome (still miss that place), and into our long-awaited "forever home". It had a yard, a full basement, a great layout, and, of course, 4 bedrooms. We were excited to get those rooms full of babies. In June 2008, we settled in and decided it was time to "try". We wanted a baby, and it felt like the right time.

Four months later, in October, I found out I was expecting and due in July! The little line on the stick was crazy awesome! I found myself shaking in disbelief, staring at that line, hugging my husband with tears in my eyes. Long story short, that blessing came to and end quickly. I lost that little angel within a week of feeling excited like never before. We both wept, hard, and took solace in one another, and in the fact that we could try again after a month.

The next  time was harder. I saw another glorious, albeit a bit more scary, line about five months later. Weeks and weeks went by, and all was well. We even got to see this little bean's heartbeat and fall in love with the blurry image of our child, cradled safely inside of me. We got all excited, told our parents and many others we were close to, and prepared for the journey ahead. Six weeks later, I felt what I can only describe as  a gush at work. My world started spinning as I realized what was happening. An ultrasound later that day confirmed my worst fear... my healthy, perfect, heart-beating baby was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it. Nothing. I felt out of control, abandoned, alone, empty, and more devastated than I had ever felt. For anyone that has ever been through a miscarriage, you know exactly what I am talking about. It is shockingly horrid. I was blow away by the almount of greif we truly felt for this loss. Turns out, you can really love someone you don't yet know. It took me weeks, make that months, to feel totally like myself again. We mourned our loss, drew one another closer, prayed (ok I prayed and P held my hand), and focused on what was to come and the fact that we had our marriage to get us through.

I picked up and life went on, somehow, though I could not let go. I had this aching feeling that this whole parenthood thing was not in the cards for us. The doctors had no explanation for what had happened. "It was nature's way", and "you are still young" were commonly heard phrases.  Looking back, they were correct, but when you are in that moment when you lose a baby, it feels anything but natural. All you want to say is "screw you- my baby is gone. " It feels like a betrayal and a loss you are expected to keep quiet. I chose not to. I felt cheated, and I mourned for the children I had in heaven, and was scared to start over again. What if this kept happening? I was not sure if I could take it.

Long story short, we then decided it was time to seek help. We headed to a fertility doc (still LOVE him), and got the full work up. Turns out my husband was FAR from being the problem, and that I had a few things to fix, just as my gut had said. I had a minor surgery, took some pills, took a  few months off, and in December of 2009, moved on to IUI to try and make our dream a reality.

It worked!!! The pills, injections, doctor's visits and all worked, and I found out I was pregnant for the third time. Christmas of that year was spent hoping and celebrating with our families. Alas, not too long after that, I learned my levels were dropping yet again, and I was, inevitably, going  to lose my third angel, and no one knew why. Cue emotional roller coaster #3.

Then came the real horror. Out of nowhere, two weeks later, my husband, my world, my rock and I got a bomb dropped on us- he needed major brain surgery, and he needed it now. What started as a check up for headaches abd dizziness turned into an appointment with the head of Neuro at Rush. Our focus quickly tuned from babies to saving his life. I begged and pleaded with God to please keep the most important person in my life living. As most of you know, it went well (THANK YOU GOD), and he healed within a few months.

January and February of 2010 were, without a doubt, the most trying months of my life. We had just dealt with all of these pregnancy  losses, and here we were, dealing with a major life crisis. This amazing man I was lucky enough to marry made it through with a smile on his face and joy in his heart (so typical P), and we were so thankful for one another that it hurt. I felt like a teenager in love all over again, as I could braely leave his side to go to work, He suddenly felt fragile to me. Every second I could spend with My Love was a good one, and it made our marriage even better.We were left with a new appreciation for what is truly important in life- the people you love and the time you spend with them. That is the gift that hard time left us with. I will never take my husband for granted again, and I am not afraid to tell the world that he is my everything. When you get that close to the reality of spending the rest of your life without your best friend, you can't help but spend it thankful.

In April, we were given the green light to move forward and try to start a family, now that brains were fixed and all. We made an attempt at medicated cycle #3, and it was a fail.

My worst fear seemed to be coming true. Motherhood might not be in the cards for me. I watched people around me getting pregnant as if out of nowhere, and although I was thrilled for them, the selfish part of my heart ached for us.

On to  May of 2010 we went, with all the strength we had. I was fairly certain this would not go well, but, ever the optimist in at least most situations, I chose to think positive thoughts anyway. On June 18, 2010, I took a positive pregnancy test for the fourth time. I was FREAKING HORRIFIED. Elated, but horrified. Later that day, I got the long awaited call from my Reproductive Endocrinologist, saying that my levels were amazing, and that we could be optimistic. I started on a new course of medications to keep me pregnant, and hoped for the best.

The coming weeks brought a lot of anxiety, but alot a lot of celebration, as we, yet again, told our parents, siblings, and best friends that this time might be different. My levels were good, and all was well!!! I hold such fond memories of revealing that secret, and the feeling I had that this time would be different. We were finally going to be parents!!!

Turns out, I have a very good instinct.

After three lost babies, multiple treatment cycles, a miraculous pregnancy,  and more tears that I care to admit, Leah Joy Fasse was born on February 20, 2011.  She was a bundle of pink skin, red curls, dimples, and the most wonderful sight I had ever seen. To say this child was "wanted" is an understatement. She was craved, prayed for, hoped for, dreamt about- a dream personified. She stared out cuddly and teeny, and is ending her year being a total busy body with a mind of her own, and we are loving every second! This child is a treasure.

As my daughter's first birthday looms ahead in the coming days, I find myself reflecting on all she has brought  to the world. Call me cheesy, call me weird, call me annoying... I don't care. I love my child, and I will be the first to admit that I am a nerd for her. She is the best thing ever. Leah has turned this house into a home. She has made us a family. She has made so many dreams come true, and has brought so many people joy like never before.  Do we have moments of chaos, insanity, frustration, annoyance, craziness, and (me) being crabby in our home? ARE YOU KIDDING? Of course. But it always has, and always will go back to the fact that I know what it is like to want this more than anything. I know the ache in a heart that feels as though this is never going to happen. I refuse to ever, ever forget how much I wanted this little girl, and how blessed we are to have days full of dimply smiles (with poopy diapers), goofy sounds (that come with messy floors) , and laughter  beyond my wildest dreams.
It is not perfect, but it is US.

So, I guess I want to say thank you to my husband for being the most supportive person ever, and to my daughter for making our dreams a reality. I only hope that we can pay you back by helping YOU live your dreams the best you can. That is all anyone can do.

I wish you a lifetime of love, joy, happiness, laughter, success, and trials that teach you what is truly important. I hope you always, always, always know how much you are loved and cherished.

I love you so much.
How much is so?
Way way more than you will ever know....