The journey hasn't ended ...

I'm not giving up. But this will be my last post to THIS blog. Our journey hasn't ended, but I have put it on the back burner for now - life is calling and I need to respond.

I realized while driving home that a year ago today I saw my mother for the last time. As they closed her casket that day - I felt a part of my heart go with her. Over the last year a lot has changed. Days following her funeral there were times I felt like I couldn't get out of bed, I'd go to work and barely function and amidst my heartache, I thought it would be a good idea to try for a baby again. This time things were different. Mom wasn't there to hear me talk about the shots, test results and doctors visits - having a baby meant a lot, but coping with mom's absence meant more.

It's been one whole year already. Our second Thanksgiving without mom came and went. As I looked out the kitchen window that day listening to family and friends talk and laugh, I missed her so much. It was seeing my father sit there without mom at his side that I realized I've been given a responsibility - one I didn't choose, it chose me.

While I was on Facebook today, a friend posed this very question: do you choose your kuleana or does kuleana choose you? I said kuleana chooses you.

My dad, family and work are my kuleana - having a baby right now isn't. Perhaps that's why it hasn't happened for us - deep in my heart I know I've been given a responsibility greater than I could've imagined. Alone and having a mind that diminishes a little each day, I need to make sure dad enjoys the years he has left - I need to be there for him now, spending time with him while he still knows who I am.

While trying again some time next year isn't out of the question - it isn't a priority any longer and as I've said in blogs past - I have a life to live and I can't do it pining for a baby. I'm needed elsewhere and so that's where I'll be. Enjoying my family, friends and the work I do.

My need for recording my life in writing is still intact, so look for a new blog detailing my life as a daughter, sister, wife and friend who loves a good laugh and detailing life's candid moments.

Baby or not ...

Something's changed. I'll be the first to admit it - I'm not who I was six months ago, or six weeks ago for that matter. After all was said and done, I still wasn't pregnant - and for the first time in the 10 years we've been trying, I was okay with that.

Mind you, it hurt initially. That phone call from the doctor took the breath out of me for a few minutes and I struggled knowing Kauhi wouldn't be a dad anytime soon. But as the days and nights passed it got easier, the hurt went away - not entirely, but most of it. Something else replaced it. Call it what you want, but something was definitely different.

It's 3:15 a.m., Kauhi's in Lake Tahoe playing golf and I'm home enjoying some time with friends and for the first time in a long time I'm excited for our future - pregnant or not.

I have a great new job - while stressful, it's fulfilling and challenging, we'll finally get the backyard of our dreams, I'm spending quality time with my dad - getting to know the man I feared for most of my teenage and young adult life. I think it was in mom's plan all along - she needed me to see the man she met on the dance floor in that pub in Germany so many years ago.

But there's something in my heart that's changed - getting pregnant is no longer my priority - living life is. I've spent so many nights wishing and praying that we'd get our miracle. I've seen the unfriendly side of a needle way too many times to count and if I had a nickel for every doctor's visit, I'd have a pretty nice nest egg. I won't lie, my heart still skips a beat when I see a baby or I hear someone I know is pregnant - but I'm no longer devastated.

It's times like this, when it's quiet, when I can only hear the whisper of the ceiling fan above me, or the humming of the fridge that I think about how thankful I am for what I do have. A friend once told me that I have passion - I'd have to agree, when I commit to something I mean it, when I say something, it's truly how I feel and when I love, I love hard. Here's to a new found appreciation and enthusiasm for life - it's the only one I have. Baby or not, here I come!

What is meant to be ...

I had a feeling my blood test would come back negative, but I held out for the slightest chance that fate would be on my side this time - no such luck.

This would be the fourth artificial insemination I would do - by fertility treatment standards, that's not a high number, but by my sanity's standards - it's plenty.

After introducing the usual suspects of oral medications and ones I had to inject, it's only natural to think that I would conceive - high expectations for our first try in over four years.

Then there's the part of me that wonders why mom couldn't help this along. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I remember her telling me that would be her first order of business - to send our little one home. Don't get me wrong, mom's done plenty since she's been gone, including the wonderful opportunity I have at work now, giving Kauhi the patience to deal with me and giving me only what I can handle - perhaps that is why I sit here thinking about when we'll try again.

I was sad, more so for Kauhi than for me, but I can't dwell on it, I can't let my infertility define who I am, it's a part of me, and in the large scheme of things, I have to tell myself it's not the end of the world. Simply put, what is meant to be, will be - in it's own time.

A moment of weakness

I need to get something off my chest. It'll sound bad at first, but hear me out okay?

Am I making the right decision? Is this whole baby thing really going to be worth it? The last five days have been interesting to say the least. The Clomid did a real number on my emotions. Although I think I've been okay for the most part, it's had a knack for taking a little of my "happy" away. Oh and the "need" for "doing it" has been crazy ... and just the talk of "it" has me reeling! It's amazing what a tiny pill can do to your pituitary gland - the epicenter to all your hormones. Honestly, if my mind were a movie, it would be rated X! It's really rather distracting. Any warm-blooded human being would say this is a good thing, but the pressure of "doing it" can really hamper the excitement and the pure carnage of it all - if you know what I mean?

And to what end? I was told today that the follicles on my ovaries (where the eggs mature) aren't large enough. So fast forward 20 minutes and I'm walking out of the doctor's office with syringes, sharps container and Follistim ... a medication I need to shoot into my stomach once a day for 5 days to help those eggs mature. This should be old hat for me, including the side effects of Follistim which include boobs that have the potential to bust (no pun intended) right out of my blouse because of the synthetic hormones, that feeling you've had too much to eat that never goes away, confusion, dizziness and difficulty breathing. Even with these possible complications, I know I was 100 times more excited last time, so I don't know what it is. Perhaps it's all the work I have to do, the yard that needs tending to, the bills and my dad who needs my help to remember what day it is and what medications to take. I have a lot more on my mind these days ...

I can't explain it - perhaps overwhelmed is a good word? I'm sure I felt this way when we tried the last time, but I was 5 years younger and thought I had a lot of time ahead of me. Now I'm at an age where the risks are higher, our chances are lower and I'm ashamed to say, I was sort of getting used to our childless lifestyle.

Am I a bad person for thinking this way? I hope not. I'm sure any woman who has to inject herself with hormones on a daily basis to achieve a fraction of a chance to conceive goes through moments of weakness ... I guess this was mine.

Give me a C L O M I D!

And so it begins. Our journey is officially underway. For the next five days, I'll be taking the drug Clomid. As my doctor indicated at the start of our journey, we're starting back at square one. With it's harmless and unassuming appearance, Clomid apparently packs a punch. Let me remind you the last time I took Clomid I was 25 years old and never really noticed any major side effects - although Kauhi may have a different recolection. Of course a lot has changed since 2000 and my addiction to Google and Web MD has me well informed of potential situations I may find myself in.

Just for grins here's some of the fun I could be looking forward to:

- Mood swings (poor Kauhi)
- Weight gain (really? Like I needed an alternative to food to
pack on the pounds?)
- Depression (impossible ... I have the greatest husband, friends and family to keep me laughing ... most of the time)
- Insomnia (I like staying up late anyway!)

There are others but I thought those were the ones worth mentioning.

Pardon me for a brief TMI moment but we're all adults right? In addition to it's wide variety of side effects, it also comes with some strict rules. I must be sure to take it on days 5-9 of my cycle and then depending how my eggs respond, I may need a
shot to trigger ovulation. That's when the hubby and I "do the deed" - ON DEMAND and we hope for the best!

Who said infertility couldn't be any fun?!

Life goes on

Six, eight, five, four, five ... wait, what am I doing? I can't tell you how many times in the last few months this has happened to me, good or bad news to share, I always called mom. The realization hit me again today, I wouldn't get an answer. Here's what I would've shared with her ...

I entered the doctor's office feeling a little apprehensive, after all two weeks ago I was laid up in a hospital bed, hooked up to i.v. antibiotics and pain medication after another bout with diverticulitis. Another part of our journey I didn't count on. Now some of you may know what this condition is, but many of you don't, and believe me, you don't want to. Chalk it up to bad genes passed down from generations before, bad eating habits for most of my childhood and young adult life - no matter what the cause, it's a pain in the neck - well stomach to have. Diverticuli are little pockets that form in your large intestine over time. When one eats nuts, deep fried foods, stalky vegetables, seeds or anything hard to digest (and tasty j/k) these pockets act as safe havens for food particles to breed bacteria ... hence the infection! Altering your eating habits, plenty of water and exercise is said to be the remedy to keep attacks at bay - it's true, but I'm human and I might've turned a blind eye to a seed or two.

Fast forward two weeks and I'm feeling pretty darn good. I'm eating a normal diet again, almost done with the antibiotics and no more pain. Life's looking pretty awesome and now it was my turn to see the doctor.

I sat down and she proceeded to show me actual photos of polyps they pulled out of me in June. Not pretty and there were so many of them. Time is of the essence she said. These things grow back and until I don't have a uterus anymore, I'll have to keep dealing with them. "Well, call us next week when your cycle starts and we'll officially begin," were her last words to me as she held the door open. That's it? So the process commences almost immediately? I forgot how exciting it could be, the anticipation was a little intoxicating and my "woe is me, I'm a diverticulitis sufferer" went right out the window - life's moving on and I'm going with it. However, for some odd reason, the first thing that popped into my head was "I need to call mom and let her know." I'm not crazy, well at least I don't think so - but it felt real. As I bid the office staff an enthusiastic "aloha, see you folks next week," I began dialing mom's number on my cell phone ... and then it hit me as I hit the down button on the elevator - "Liz, you won't get an answer, girl get a grip!"

I could feel the tears well up, but I held back - I was on my way to meet Kauhi for lunch and I didn't want him to see me cry. When the elevator opened, I entered and stared at my phone thinking how I could be so detached from reality. I've had friends and family say it's happened to them - but it's different when it's you ... somehow we all think we're immune to episodes like this, but now I see I'm no superwoman, no one special, just a girl who misses her mother more than words could ever say.

So mom, even though you can't pick up the phone, I know you're listening, watching - I hope you'll get to see some amazing things happen over the next few months. As you would say, "C'mon, life goes on my girl, you can't watch it pass you by."

You may say I'm a dreamer

Dreams. Some nights it scares me how real they are. I swear I can smell, taste and feel everything. I've felt the water I was swimming in, my mother's hand that I was holding and the scent of my favorite flower - Pikake. Lately, the dreams I've had are vivid and intense, some worth repeating, others I beg to forget.

It seemed so real. I found myself on the sidewalk in front of the house I grew up in. I could feel the sun and the fragrance of newly cut grass and the gasoline from my father's lawnmower wafted through the air. I looked down and under the gray blouse I was wearing was my pregnant belly. I could feel the excitement, you know that beat your heart skips when you see a policeman on the highway at the last minute or when you're waiting for that phone call from "the one." I couldn't believe it. I looked up and my mother was standing in the garage with a smile on her face, but I couldn't move and when I did, she got farther away. I turned to see two children, about 3 years old, a boy with brown hair, fair skin and green eyes ... the little girl had a ponytail wore a red sweater and had a backpack on that was way too big for her, but I never saw her face. I followed them as they walked down the steep road leading away from my house. I hurried to catch up. The little girl turned a corner and disappeared ... the little boy kept turning back and gesturing for me to hurry. As we both turned the corner there was a sea of children on a playground and Kauhi sitting in the middle of them all. I turned for just a second, and when I looked for the little boy, I caught a glimpse of him joining the other children - and then he was gone. As I went to Kauhi who sat solemnly on a bench - my pregnant belly was no more, as if it was never there. We cried together.

Gasping for air I woke up to find my pillow wet from my tears. While many of my dreams are happy ones, memories with friends and family - it's the ones that show me what could be that hurt the most. Part of this journey is being able to dream - to think that what's been impossible, could be possible. I think about what that dream meant, why would I be given a glimpse of something I want so much just to have it taken away? Do I take it as a sign, or a desperate attempt of my sleeping self to experience amazing things ... reuniting with my mother, talking on the phone with my Hawaiian grandmother and parenthood.

What ever the reason may be, I'm never afraid to close my eyes. While there's a chance a dream like the one I shared could invade my dreams again - it's the ones that will make me laugh, shed tears of happiness and experience amazing things that give me comfort - what ever happens in my waking life will be, dreams or no dreams, I've accepted that.