My IVF Journey: Dying Each Day

My cousin wasn’t getting better. I was getting worse. I was feeling like a failure in all aspects of my marriage. I went to the doctor’s and you know how that conversation turned out. I was officially depressed.

Between work and trying to keep the mask of superficiality on my face, I was really going through it. Work became an integral part of my life. I needed to have something to latch on too. Something that felt real.

But it was a farce and continued to be so for many months. Until our anniversary. That night we laughed in an uneasy form, but decided to give our marriage another go. We decided to recommit and focus on us and having a baby.

I was scared as hell. I couldn’t go through this again. The pain. The disappointment. The fear of having no baby.

But, I prayed. I wanted to give my husband a baby more than life itself. The thought of being a mom was one of my deepest fears. I struggled with insecurities about parenthood. What kind of mother would I be? Would my child love me? Would my child like me?

These thoughts were real for me. Parenthood was scary as hell. So, I jumped off that cliff and closed my eyes and flew.

Back through the IVF cycle. The pills, the shots, the bruising, the mood swings. The anger was real bad this time. Those drugs had me saying stuff to my husband that I never thought possible. One day I told him “Will you shut the hell up? The sound of your voice is making my ears bleed?” He didn’t respond.

I was upset. I cried later. He consoled me and said “It’s the medications. I understand.” I didn’t. It was hell on my body. My hair was shedding like a damn cat. I felt as though I was losing it.

The day of my egg retrieval, I woke up and he was right there smiling. I heard a doctor tell the woman next to me that they had retrieved 23 eggs. My husband grabbed my hand. We both wondered would we be so lucky.

A beautiful Indian doctor walked in. She indicated that they had retrieved 11 eggs. I cried. That wasn’t enough. Here we go again.

She asked me “What’s wrong?” I told her “I overheard the woman in the next cot had 23 eggs retrieved. I wasn’t going to ever have a baby and I hated this process.” She looked at me and said “Ms. Thomas, not to give anyone’s medical information away, but the woman in the next room has a medical condition where she is producing more eggs than normal. She said 11 is a good number and it only takes one. I need you to remember that it only takes one to have a healthy baby.”

My husband squeezed my hand and said “See, we did good.” I closed my eyes. I was tired. I couldn’t take another round of defeat.

-To be continued-

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

The Art of Being A Wife Tour

Sorry for the post that wasn’t. I’ve had a busy week and haven’t been able to catch up on a lot of your posts. Please know that I will be doing that over the next few days including this weekend. However, I wanted to tell you about this awesome session that I attended last Saturday. It was called The Art of Being a Wife Tour.

The tour was designed to get women to think of the following questions:

Do I have what it takes to be a great wife?

How do I bring sexy back to my bedroom?

How can I get “me” back after losing her in my marriage?

Am I the only one going through in my marriage?

Can I stay even when the thrill is obviously gone?

As someone who plans to be a wife to Mr. C one day, I wanted to go and check it out. Plus, I knew Tanya Barnett. She wrote the book Being A Wife Just Got Real: Things I Wish I Knew Before I Said “I Do” that I reviewed. I had read the book, but I wanted to know more.

The Women

I had never met Dominique Clarke, but I am glad I did. They were incredible leaders in helping us to really dig dip into things that affect us. Dominique is a matchmaker who has been married for 8 years and she’s only 30. What? How awesome is that?

I couldn’t imagine being married at 22, but she’s making it work. She shares her tips for dating, relationships and marriage with you. She has a book entitled She’s Valuable (But Does She Know It?) that I purchased and started to read. I’ll do a book review on this later.

Tanya Barnett is an entrepreneur, author, mom, wife, radio host and many other titles. She shares her testimony about her relationship struggles in her marriage and what she had to do to fix herself. She tells you how God told her that her marriage was her ministry.

How many of us think of marriage as our ministry? But, it really is. That was an amazing nugget to take away. Her book is amazing and a must read.

What It Wasn’t

It wasn’t a male bashing session. It was a session to help us women figure out what we can work on within ourselves. That in itself was different because we always want to turn it into a male bashing session or point the other finger to our partners when we get around other women.

We aren’t accountable for our own actions. There was none of that. It was all love and respect. It was really getting to what you desire for yourself and your partner so you can strengthen your relationships. I had a ball.

What I Wish

What did I wish they had? A workbook with some excerpts and tips from their own book that they could share. It was a lot of women and we couldn’t get through everything, but have us do the work and talk about what we expect to get out of this. Have us work on ourselves at home.

What I Want You To Know

I learned some things. I learned from the women around me at my table and I was able to share some wisdom as a divorced woman. This was an excellent opportunity for sister bonding and empowerment. Self-improvement always is and will be one of my top priorities in my life.

Highlight

The next stop is in Raleigh, North Carolina. If you are in the area, please go check out this awesome tour. There are only a few tickets remaining. I was also fortunate to give a testimonial. Check it out:

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

My IVF Journey: Great Expectations

It didn’t work. The first attempt at IVF yielded no positive pregnancy test. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted my baby. I wanted our baby.

Our baby wasn’t growing in my womb. The nurse said “I’m sorry”. I said “Its’ okay.” It wasn’t okay. I should’ve been pregnant. I cried.

I cursed God. I was angry. I was in hell.

Why couldn’t God allow me to get pregnant? Didn’t he know that I wanted a baby? I felt barren and unfit. Unfit to carry a baby.

I withdrew from my marriage. I pushed my feelings inside and threw myself into my work. I needed something to take my mind off not having a baby and I needed to see value in this barren life.

The fertility doctor kept calling to talk to me. I wouldn’t do it. I refused to do it. My husband said “Kee, you need to call the doctor back before he recommends therapy.” Hell, he should have. He did. I was hurting.

After a few weeks of feeling like a failure as a woman because I couldn’t conceive I called the doctor back. He wasn’t available. Oh well. I really didn’t want to talk anyway. He called me right back. He apologized for being in with a patient. He said “I’m sorry.” I shrugged my shoulders and said “I know. It’s part of the process. I knew that there was a probability that it wouldn’t work.” He said, “I think you should do it again. I know that I can get you pregnant.”

I sighed. I couldn’t go through this again. My hair was falling out from the drugs. The bruising on my body. The emotional hell of not hearing that I’m pregnant. I wasn’t ready to be disappointed anymore. I needed to breathe.

“Maybe” I replied.

We hung up. I told my husband what he said. He didn’t respond. I asked him what he thought about it. He said “I think you should do it again. He said that he can get us pregnant.” I walked away.

Silence.

Silence loomed in our house because I felt alone. My body had betrayed me and my husband believed that somehow it was us getting pregnant. It wasn’t. It was me. It was me going through the blood draws, egg retrievals, shots and pills. You can’t understand my pain.

My pain was enveloping me like a thick smoke. I was suffocating. Suffocating in my marriage and in my desire to give him something that I couldn’t give. My womb was broken. I was broken. I was cracking the hell up.

-To be continued-

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

My IVF Journey: Fertility Window

We were hurting. I was hurting and probably caused a lot of the pain. I didn’t want to discuss the failure of our first IVF attempt. I was embarrassed. Something must have been wrong on my end. Why couldn’t the eggs latch onto my uterine lining?

I felt alone and frustrated. Feelings of inadequacy constantly flooded my mind. I threw myself into work. I was travelling a lot. Meetings. It was good. The anniversary dinner was a starting point towards talking and acting like a couple. But, a couple of days later I was given the news that no woman in her prime wants to hear. Especially at the age of 32.

I was having my annual check-up and my ob/gyn wanted me to get up and have a talk. She explained that my fertility window was limiting. I had to make a choice if I wanted to have children. My fibroids had returned and I didn’t have as much time as I thought I would to have children. I thought I had more time than 5 months since my first failed attempt at IVF. I told her that we had tried IVF and that it had failed. She asked where did we go for treatment. I told her. She said she knew the practice.

“Who is your doctor?” she asked. “Dr. S” I replied. “I know him” she said. “He’s a great doctor. What did he say?” she inquired. “He told me to try it again. He said that he knows he can get me pregnant” I sighed. I didn’t want to be having this conversation again. Not with someone else. It didn’t work. I get it. I wasn’t meant to have children.

I had begun to accept that fact. “Well, if he said he can do it then he can do it. You should try it again” she said. Just like that. Final. I listened and stuttered “We’re in a bad place. We’ve been married 5 years and I don’t know if we’ll make it.” She listened. “Okay, just know that you can’t wait forever.” I shook my head in understanding and got dressed.

I had never felt so alone.

I headed to the car. On the drive home I kept replaying her conversation in my mind. I never wanted children so why the hell was this stressing me out? Was it our marriage holding on by a thread or was it the fact that at that moment, I knew that I wanted to be a mother?

That was it.

I wanted to be a mother. If not with my husband, then someone else. I wanted a baby. I was going to have a baby. I wasn’t going to stay in this perpetual middle zone relationship wondering if he or I should pull the plug on it. Someone needed to make a decision and it needed to happen now. Definitely before my fertility window closed. No more excuses. It was time to woman up!

-To be continued-

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Burning the Past

I’ve known people that when a relationship ends burn or toss pictures away of their ex. Regardless of whether they had children or not. One of the decisions that I made when I ended my marriage was to not be spiteful and destroy all photos of my ex-husband. Not because I was hoping for a reconciliation, but because it was my life. He was a part of my life. Both good and bad.

We shared Munch and he was young when we separated. He was almost 5. I often thought about life and death and my mortality. I wondered if I died tomorrow would Munch remember me. So, I kept photos of his dad and I together. That was a life that we had and if either one of us died Munch would remember that his parents had loved, laughed and lived prior to him being born. That he was created in love.

The thing is that I know so many people who discarded those photos. They have no memories of their exes to show their children. So, it got me to wonder do you burn or discard pictures of your ex? Whether they were your boyfriend or husband?

giphy

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

My IVF Journey: The 5th Year

We had been married for almost five years. They were both beautiful and brutal years. Our marriage was being tested. He was being tested. We were being tested.

I didn’t know how I felt about having children. We had a lot of problems and I didn’t know if bringing a baby into the situation would be a blessing or a curse. I knew that he wanted kids. He wanted them now. He wanted them the minute we got married. I pushed back. I needed time. I quoted statistics “Most marriages end in divorce and many more end before the five year mark.” I wanted to wait.

He agreed. Reluctantly probably, but he agreed.

July 13, 2007

We were in a bad place. It had been five months since our first failed attempt at IVF. I couldn’t understand why we couldn’t have a baby. I was in a perpetual state of just existing. I felt alone in my marriage. No one could understand the pain I felt knowing that it didn’t work.  I carried the burden of feeling like I was somehow incomplete.

It was my anniversary. I woke up wondering how long before we would be pulling the plug on this farce of a marriage. We were like roommates. Sleeping in the same house in the same bed and not touching. No hugging. No hand holding. No intimacy. I felt more alone than I ever had being single. I was living with a complete stranger.

Pleasantries were exchanged. We were both off today. It was our custom to take off work every time our anniversary fell on a work day. I got up and headed to the shower. I had to go. I got dressed and said good-bye.

There was no mention of anything special occurring on this day. I had made no plans. I just wondered when we were going to end it. Was today the day? I drove to take my mom to the dentist. She was getting her four wisdom teeth pulled and couldn’t drive home. No problem. I’m the oldest. I was already off.

After the dental procedure, I got my mom home and left for home. Not quite sure why I was headed home. It was my anniversary and I felt unloved. This void between us was like a mountain that couldn’t be crossed. I decided to call him from the car. “Hello” he answered. “Hi, are we doing anything special tonight? It’s our anniversary. Trying to figure out my day” I said. “I didn’t think you wanted to do anything. You just got up and left” he said. “I took my mom to the dentist. She got her four wisdom teeth extracted” I responded. “Oh, okay. Yeah, we can go to dinner. I’ll make reservations” he said.

Dinner sucked. The restaurant was in a beautiful location, but the meal was uneventful and not very tasty. We laughed and said that it was the worst meal we’d ever had, but tried to make the best of it. There were glimpses of hope in our strained conversations, hearty laughs, but mainly there was the distinct presence of pain. Too much pain.

To be continued

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Commit

“Today I commit my life to you. For better or worse, I vow to honor you and love you with all that I have and with all that I am.”

I sat there listening to that sentence over and over. We were more than this. I thought there was a deeper level of connection. How could I have been so wrong?

When I met Cameron 10 years ago, I had just committed to living a new life. I was in graduate school working on my MBA at Georgetown University. I had lived a life well beyond my years. I was a survivor.

Our dating life was surreal. Perfect with the right amount of friction and issues to remind us that we are only human. We dated for 3 years. Laughing, dancing and traveling allowed us to grow closer. I never shared much of my past with Cameron.

He knew that I had a traumatic life, but not to the point that I could ever talk about. He said he understood. He didn’t want to pressure me. He just wanted to love.

And he did. Everywhere. I was the envy of all my friends.

I had happiness. I had security. I had love.

What more could I ask for or ever need? Nothing. Which is why I was surprised when Cameron asked me to marry him after 3 years. I mean I said yes, but was shocked because I never imagined getting married. I was happy with the way things were, but being his wife meant that I could enjoy a legal sort of bliss.

Our wedding was perfect. The beautiful island of Capri. The sun, the sand and his family and friends made it perfect. We would honor our commitment with a beautiful destination wedding. I love Cameron.

My dress was perfect. Just enough sex appeal to keep him wanting, but beautiful and feminine to not be embarrassed when we had children. Heaven. I was in heaven.

I was also drunk from the sun and wine. I stumbled to the bathroom at the venue. The women’s had a line. I didn’t care. I pushed the door to the men’s room opened. I was horrified at what I saw.

My eyes wouldn’t register. What is this? I must be dreaming.

The sounds of guttural sex were both familiar and real. I pushed open the stall. I saw the man that I loved and just married screwing my maid of honor.

I began to scream. “Whore! Slut! Asshole!” My blood was boiling as I began swinging at both people. I was going to commit murder.

 

This post was inspired by the Daily Post. The word prompt was commit.

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.