As I laid awake last night anticipating our ultrasound today, my heart would not stop racing. I’m nervous. Nervous for myself, for Shelby and for our little one. I’ll cut the bullshit. I am downright, flat out scared and was reading into everything. I’m not a superstitious person, but I was looking for ANY sign. Either way, I just wanted to know how our appointment would turn out. The only signs I felt was my pounding heart beating from fear. Fear of loss, fear of being destroyed, fear for Shelby.

The only thing I could think about was when I imagined myself sitting down in front of a blinking cursor, ready to write a blog post telling you how our appointment went. The only thing I could actually visualize writing was news off loss, pain, and sadness. This freaked me out. I could FEEL my fingers type the painful words “It’s over. Fuck you fate!” I tried everything to block that vision from my mind, but I just couldn’t visualize anything else. My fear simply did not allow me to ever consider writing “Thank God, everything is perfect.”

Surely this was a bad omen?

As I mentioned in the past, we’re just going on 12 weeks of being pregnant. It’s a major milestone and it seemed like it would never get here. I felt every passing second that lead up to this appointment. We had about 3 weeks between ultrasounds and during this time, we hit our previous loss milestone.

I couldn’t comprehend waiting 21 days until our next appointment. That’s 504 hours, people! Eventually I found a trick to help pass the time; that was to simply view time differently. I made everything relative and it really helped pass the

There wasn’t a concept of weeks, days or hours. It became 2 more new episodes of Deadliest Catch until our ultrasound; 1 more episodes of new Family guy; 3 more breakfasts; and before I knew it, it was 1 more kiss goodnight until our appointment.

Finally, the day arrived, and as the hour of our ultrasound ticked closer, my perception of time was: 1 more kiss hello, 15 more foot steps to the ultrasound room, 1 Shelby laying down, 2 hands gripping each other in support, 10 pounding beats of my heart, 1 deep and final breath until we knew our fate.

All of this is the build up to the moment that I laid awake fearing. What will my blog post say? Was my omen of dread realized?

Time has passed, and is not longer relative. Finally, the moment I envisioned is here.

I’m staring at the blinking cursor of my blog post.

There’s only one thing to say:

Thank God, everything is absolutely perfect.

A few weeks ago, Shelby bolted upright from her near-permanent resting position on our sectional and to my surprise declared that she “WANTS INDIAN FOOD SO BAD.” This surprised me on 2 levels. The first, Shelby was actually able to dig herself out of the Shelby shaped indentation on the couch. The second, she actually wanted something that wasn’t a popsicle, cereal, or nacho cheese Doritos. We’re making progress here, people!

Immediately, I launch myself out of my seat, grab the car keys and race to the garage. Understand, my panic and speed are out of one very important reason, I love Indian food. I know that any change in speed, wind direction, or even a butterfly flapping its wings in Japan will change Shelby’s mind and she’ll fall back into her couch shaped indentation and make me get her the 100th popsicle of the day.

We’re out the door before she could even pick up her purse.

I hold my breath the entire way there praying she doesn’t change her mind, and finally we arrive. Shelby’s looking a little green at this point. Maybe it was my driving? Maybe it’s her sense of DOG LIKE SMELL. I’m beginning to sweat now. I don’t want my Indian food ripped from my hands when we’re SO close. Taste buds are already set to spicy, and they aren’t turning back.

We walk into the restaurant and I scream “Naan, and Chicken Vindaloo, STAT!” before the poor waiter even asks us “how many?” As the realization that we’re finally sitting down and that we are actually ordering food sinks in, I let myself calm down. Shelby and I make small talk and try and avoid the elephant in the middle of the room, or in her belly for that matter, but eventually our conversation drifts that direction. As our waiter pours my 10th glass of water, and Shelby’s 2nd lemonade (never mind the fact that I begged her not to order it. Lemonade and Indian food? Gross) we start to talk about family trees.

I come from a very small family. I may be a triplet, but that about covers it. My Dad has two brothers. One of which adopted a son, and conceived a daughter and the other decided to not have kids (ALS runs in the family and they didn’t want to tempt fate). We were born almost 3 months premature, weighed 2 pounds each. Our birth was less than perfect and the doctors predicted certain demise. We made it, however it was not scott free. One of my brothers was born with severe brain damage and will never experience many of the life events we all have the opportunity to enjoy. He’ll never date, marry, or try to conceive a child, nor does he have any concept of those things. The other, as I mentioned in a previous post, is about to get married and start a family.

As I break off a piece of Naan, Shelby and I take stock of my family tree with those that share my last name.

• My female cousin is basically a non-member of the family by choice (crazy lady with 10 cats and a few kids who, when explored adoption, got denied because she didn’t want to turn the “cat room” into a bedroom for the potential kid.)
• My male cousin, who was adopted, just had a daughter. Don’t know their long term family plans.
• My brother and his bride-to-be, well, your guess is as good as mine.

That’s it. That’s the family tree.

As we finish dinner, something that has never even occurred to me hit me like a ton of bricks. Is my family tree about to have a broken branch? Up to this moment, I had little preference on wanting a boy or girl. I just want baby, but does this change things? I’ve only just come to grips on my own infertility, and now I’m contemplating the end of my line.

Shelby and I wrap up dinner, and as I drive us and our full bellies home, I’m unsure how to process this.

Am I just placing unnecessary pressure on myself?

I’m just… unsure.

This is a new emotion for me to process, and I haven’t figured it out yet. Is it something I *really* care about? Is it society’s added pressure on us men? Does my line really end? Have I found the core reason of why we procreate?

How do I deal with these questions and where do I go to find those answers?

Have any of you thought about these things? What’s your take?

I feel like my blog is official now! This is my first entry into Mel’s Show and Tell and I’m excited to share this with you.

For my first show and tell, I think I’m just going to make it a generic post about my favorite things. There’s so much to share that I don’t want to focus on one area just yet! These items are very special to me. No matter what is going on with regards to infertility, life, or just being a worry wort, I can close my eyes, reflect on what I was doing at the time these pictures were taken and for just a few moments be transported back to that event.

1.) Napa, California

As I eluded to in a previous post, going to Napa, CA is one of my very favorite things to do. There’s something about the smell of grapes in the air, rolling fields of the vines, and, well the wine, that makes everything seem “okay.” A trip up to Napa is something that Shelby and I do often. We’ve been known to go once a week for a month at a time, that is until our pocket book becomes empty. This is a picture Shelby snapped of some grapes that I think is a beautiful representation of Napa. The second is some old stairs at one of our favorite wineries.

2.) Hawaiian & Cows

A few summers ago, Shelby and I took a 14 day cruise to Hawaii. She has never been, and the last time I was there was many years ago (I think I was 10). The only thing I remembered about it was learning how to do the Hula amidst a “couple’s only invitation.” All I knew was that a bunch of people were going up on stage, and dammit, I wanted to be one of them. Anyway, this trip was amazing. We snorkeled, roamed the shops of Honolulu, was introduced to afagato gellato (the best thing ever, a scoop of gellato with a short of espresso poured on it), scooter-ing around Kauai, and stumbled apon a local watering hole/waterfall that was featured in playboy in the 80′s. Alas, there were no naked, hairy arm pit laides when we went there, but it was perfect none-the-less. We found a few cows on the side of the road when and had to pull over and take a picture. This guy is my favorite Hawaiian cow, followed by a picture of the hidden water hole.

3.) Oak Trees

I love oak trees. There is something old, wise, and majestic about them. This is a mighty tree on the hill just past my parents backyard. As a kid, I’d run up the hill and spend hours sitting by this tree. It was my place, special to only me. To me, this tree represents a safe place, my childhood, and tells my story.

4.) Shelby

I’ve saved the best for last. I do not have the words to describe what this woman means to me, except that she is my world and I love her more than any words I could think to say. They simply cannot do justice to a woman that has made me whole.

Related to my previous post about the weight of the wait, there’s another topic that been heavy on my mind. Our little gummy is doing great, but I can’t help think about all the things that are riding on this little one. As you can imagine, another loss this late in the game would be, obviously, devastating for us. I simply refuse to fathom what that would be like, but still, I can’t help but go over the coming months and how that loss would impact it.

After losing our last bean, my world came crashing down on top of me. I found myself unable and unwilling to take part in family events. I couldn’t even bring myself to see my cousin’s new baby. It was a harsh reminder of something that came so easily to them, and was quite the opposite for me. Our bean would have been born early January, and their baby was born in September. We would talk about how awesome it would be to see our kids grow up together. Now, to me, their baby is just a physical reminder of what we lost.

I hate that I feel that way about it. Part of me feels petty and selfish, the other part is just protecting myself. It sucks. I miss my cousin and I’m sure, he misses me, but this isn’t something I can easily share with someone who may not “get it.”

I feel that there is so much riding on our little gummy. There’s some huge life events coming up, and Shelby’s pregnant belly plays a huge part in them. To me, it completes these life events. Makes them whole. Makes them even more special. Things are TOO perfect right now, and it scares me.

• One of my close friend’s wife is due in September. I want to be happy for them, but I can’t help but feel bitter. This blow is lightened by the fact that Shelby is due in November. I’m afraid a loss would cause me to break off all ties for a long time, and I’d be angry at myself about that. We’re still dreading the baby shower, but at least it will be tolerable since it gives us “our” shower to look forward to.
• I will be the best man for my brothers wedding in September. Shelby will be a bridesmaid. Ever since they asked us to be in the wedding party, I’ve fantasized about Shelby’s pregnant belly, in her beautiful (hopefully!) bridesmaid dress as she walks down the isle. There is something spiritual, and beautiful about her being pregnant as another family member ties the knot. It’s the growth of our small family and a beautiful representation of love.
• In related to the above, engagement parties, bachelor(ette) parties, bridal parties will all be joyous occasions in the coming months. I want to be a part of it.
• This may sound selfish, but we’ve been trying to have a baby for so long, and I want to be the first in my family do so. I know that my brother and his fiance will try right away, and it will kill me to be robbed of being the first. This also brings fears of what it will be like to be an uncle after loss. I can’t fathom it.
• If we experience loss, I’m afraid that I will withdraw from everything. I’ll become a grumpy old man who wants to get the damn kids off my lawn. I won’t want to go anywhere, do anything, or see anyone and I am afraid at how long that will last. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years will all be canceled. I won’t want to see friends or family at that time. I know it will kill my parents to see that, but it will have to be done.

This list weighs heavily on my shoulders, but none of it could compare to the agony of a second loss. The timing of this pregnancy couldn’t be more perfect and I long to experience these events while our baby is baking in Shelby’s oven.

Okay, we paid $15,000 more than we needed to by doing a shared risk program, but we were lucky to be given so much medication for this cycle for free it softens the blow. Even spending that 15k more than we needed to seems fitting to me. The infertility gods wouldn’t give up the opportunity to stick it to us one last time, but surely this is where it stops, right?

Fate, I’m on my hands and knees, begging you to let me experience this year of happy times.

Let Shelby be a mom, let me be a father to this little gummy.

You’re not cruel to rob us of these happy times, and of parenthood.

Are you?

Keeping with the theme of kissing Murdgan’s ass over at Conceive This!, and copying her blogging genius, I’m stealing her Keyword Salad idea. My blog is still less than a month old, but I’ve been wanting to do this ever since day 1.Now, I can’t claim that I’ll be as funny as her, but I will try to give it shot.

(Murdgan, keep the blogs coming, I’m running out of things to say! Hmm, I’ve said Murdgan too many times lately, I wonder if next Keyword Salad will have that in it…)

“Gifted Male”

Naturally, this comes as no surprise to me (or Shelby). After all, I do have a certified letter from my HMO already informing me of my “special” condition. Too bad they can’t say the same for my sperm count.

“how the hell did you find this blog”

You’re reading this, you tell me!? Why would someone would search for this? Reminds me of one of my Dad’s favorite T-Shirts, a quote by Firesign Theater (totally ’60′s hippy comedy) that says “How can you be in two places at once, when you’re not anywhere at all.”

“sperm on her face”

Um… This is an infertility blog. If there is sperm going anywhere, it’s in a cup, catheter, a vagina. Regardless, it’s definitly not going to end up on her face.

“we started to wait for our uncle an hour ago and are still waiting”

You’ve been waiting for your uncle for an hour, and you’re asking Google where he is? Maybe you should pick up the phone and call him?  Were you the same person that searched for “dead spermicide” and found my blog? Now, if you were waiting for Aunt Flow and she’s the one who is late, that’s a different story.

“unordinary shelby”

Shit! You didn’t need Google for that, I could have told you that! Hell, we’ve kept the same roll of paper towels on our bedroom floor for weeks and now it’s just the cardboard tube part.

“my mind is a mind that i have grown to know and my eyes can’t conceive a world that can not grow”

There is some serious emo shit going on in this search query.

“wife doctor hate fuck”

Well, Shelby has spread eagle in from of many doctors, some of which we were less than fond of. However, there wasn’t too much hate going on there. In fact, one of them even knocked her up. So I’ll wrap this up with a quote from P.aris H.ilton in this situation: “That’s hot.”