I said I would have to blog if one more thing went wrong... so here I am!

Hmmmm.... How to begin?   Is there such thing as first blogger impressions?   Will all you blog browsers flip quickly to the next blog if I don't quickly say something witty or fun?  Or perhaps you prefer the angry and hostile infertile type!  I can do bitter.  I can do fun.  As of late, I am sort of stuck in the bitter mode though. 

But, as the charming fertile crowd often say.... in the infinitely wise ways that make them far superior to those of us with broken uteri (always wondered about the plural of uterus. Of course, I googled it.  Apparently both uteruses and uteri are acceptable plurals.  Uteri is far cooler though.).....  But I digress (as you will see, I do that a lot). 

As the charming perfectly-functioning-uteri fertiles would say...."There is no point in being bitter.  If it is meant to be.  It is meant to be"   Gag.  Barf.  Ugh!  and AHHHHHHH!   Did I mention GAG!  My body physically cringes.  I imagine the fertile's comment as a condescending hand patting my poor little infertile head.  "There.  There."  The condescension screams and echos and bounces off the walls.  My shoulders move forward and my mind frantically combats any inappropriate comments with its well-rehearsed self-talk:  "Put on a happy face.  Be nice.  Smile pretty.  They are trying to help." 

 Please fertiles.  You should set up an advice line for infertiles such as myself.  You could call it "The Unsolicited Obnoxious Advice Line."  Your answering machine should spew horrific comments like, "Hi you cute little inferior infertile beings.  Thanks for calling the all-powerful advice line."

Press one to learn to "Just relax." 

Press two for completely obvious advice about dieting or how to have sex properly. 

Press three for stories about other infertiles success stories that we feel the need to share with you ad nauseam in an attempt to make you feel better.  Like the story of the 60 year old woman with a severely endo-infested uterus who finally got pregnant after 27 years of trying and 13 miscarriages. 

Press four if you want to see our ultra sound pictures posted on facebook or emailed directly to your account. 

Press five if you want to hear pregnant women complain about swollen ankles and being fat. 

Press six if you want to feel better about your infertility with comments such as "you are soooo lucky that you can sleep in every morning and still have your freedom."  or 'You can have my kid!"  

Press seven if you want us to shut up.  7 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 7...  hmmmm....  the touch tone feature seems to be defunct on that number somehow.

As I said before.  I'm mostly bitter.  Which brings me to this blog.  What better way to rid myself of bitterness than to spread it around for all to enjoy.  After ttc for almost 3 years, 3 failed IVFs, 2 miscarriages and a whole load of medical emergencies from fertility med side effects, blogging seemed as good a therapy as anything anyone has suggested thus far.  When my ttc journey began I never in a million years believed that I would be one of "those people."  The story of the friend of the friend of mine who went to hell and back in her quest to have a baby.  The urban legend-type story about women who have endured years of medical intervention and loss in an attempt to fulfill what original seemed to be a simple and beautiful dream.  But here I am.  Beautiful dreams have slowly turned to ugly endurances.  And hope has slowly turned into mustering up the courage to face each day with my head up.  Admittedly, many people have been through a lot worse than me.  And to those women, I would like to say that I am truly sorry.  You must be amazingly strong and beautiful people.   Thank you for sharing this journey.  It is good to know that I am not alone.  Cheers.