And this could be why I am single....

I had left the dating scene a long time ago. It was absolutely too much to take. I tried all the online dating sites and it proved to be a case of "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly" with it mostly being the latter. As a matter a fact I met very few "almost" good.

I went on dates where the guy would show up in sweat pants looking like he just mowed his lawn. Or talking on his cell phone the whole time. Or looking about 10 years older or 5 inches shorter than what was on his profile. Or trying to get "some action" on the first date (really fellas that needs to stop! Show some respect!). Or an ex convict who went to jail for 7 (no you are not reading that wrong), yes 7 years for armed robbery. I think once I was done lifting my chin off the ground my exact response was: "You're not planning on doing that tonight are you?".

And on and on and on...The Bad and the Ugly.

So I gave up. Closed my profile never to return.

And it's a good thing because I am pretty sure trying to have a baby would scare away any potential "Good" that might come my way and put a damper on any blossoming romance.

So I decided to pull out (ha! there might be a pun intended there!)

I decided early on in this journey that I was done with dating even though I still dream about the guy I would someday hopefully find. I even sat down and wrote on a piece of paper all of the qualities I am looking for in a man and sent it off into the universe. A ritual I know many women have done. S.I.F. and her friends did it on New Year's Eve over a year ago and some had some success. And my mother did it and she has been living with her boyfriend now for over a year.

I would write on my list things like: Just the right height for me, just the right age, handsome, funny, politically neutral (I need someone who sees both sides), loyal, faithful, active, open, honest, not allergic to cats (NYPD was allergic to cats and I chose the cats!), my best friend, loves me warts and all, and many other wonderful qualities I was looking for in a man.

And I would also put "walks through my front door" somewhat as a joke because I have no idea how I am ever going to meet a man unless he walks through my front door!

But alas... I have now used alas in a sentence on three posts! I think I need to work on the word "hence" next!...anyway...

But alas I have been writing about my ideal guy for over 2 years now and he's still a no show!

To be honest my exit from the dating world really hasn't been that bad. I mean after all for quite some time, I did have FB (aka the Itch Scratcher) and we let's just say having your itch scratched on a regular basis does take the edge off!

But as my journey progressed, the Itch Scratcher and I went our separate ways. I felt that if I was going to be with someone it should be something more. And now well, it's been quite some time since then and I am feeling well, let's say, a little more "itchy" than I anticipated. Definitely craving some male attention and a relationship. But I can't bring myself to subject myself to the online Freak Show.

So how is a gal supposed to meet someone.

Well, as I have said, I have no idea.

But I do know how not to meet someone and I do that with perfection...

About a year ago there was a gentleman doing a workshop at a school on retirement savings. I happen to be at that school that day on business. I overheard some of what he was presenting and afterwards I asked for his business card. I really didn't think much about it or take much notice of him. I just wanted information on retirement savings and what not. After all I was trying to have a baby and this was something I should have in place.

So I had contacted him via email but then never pursued it.

I ended up dumping my life saving into fertility treatments so focusing on IRAs went out the window.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago, I contacted him again to set up a meeting to go over some financial planning. I'm trying to get my head back above water.

I certainly couldn't take off of work for this meeting especially since I used to have all those fertility RE appointments that had me coming in late or leaving early. I figured now that I have given up my $50 + a week ultrasound habit and my $200 + a month meds habit that I could start saving and definitely wanted a meeting but taking off work was out.

He said he did meet with people after work at their homes so, I was meeting him Thursday at 5:00pm at my condo.

Now the day before I straightened up a little bit but I really could have done more. And in hindsight I really should have.

The day of the meeting I left work right on time so I could get home a little early but instead of rushing home to make sure my condo didn't look a mess, I decided to stop at the store and pick up a bottle of wine. You know, priorities!

So I was home maybe 2 minutes before the door bell rang and he was here.

Right away I noticed that he was cute and I thought "Wow, I don't remember Finance Guy being cute. He's probably married anyway."

I welcomed him in.

He was also greeted by these two:

Meet Calvin

Meet Runt

Calvin had decided to go off and hide like he does every time company arrives but Runt...no Runt has to be noticed.

The first thing Runt did was jump up on the chair that Finance Guy was going to sit in and sprawled out!

Laughing I said: "He likes to be the center of attention. I hope you're not allergic."

Finance Guy said he wasn't and sat down after I vacated Runt.

It was then that I noticed that one of two kitty culprits had kicked a ton of cat litter out of the box. It was driving me crazy sitting there looking at it. To the point that I got up and grabbed a broom and dust pan.

I said: "I'm sorry I just have to do something real quick." And I went over and swept up the litter sprinkled all over the floor and admitted to my embarrassment.

Now I was pretty sure I looked like the crazy cat lady who talks about her cats like they are people and doesn't clean their box. For the record I had cleaned their box the night before but somehow this day of all days one of them decided to do a jig inside the box!

But as I said I was pretty sure this guy was married (even though no ring) so I was really just concerned about looking "unclean".

As the meeting progressed Runt decide to come over and lay on the Finance Guy's feet and lick his shoe.

I have no idea why! To make me look even worse.

Finance Guy says: "Ummm your cat is licking my shoe."

I just shook my head, laughed and said: "He must really like you". Which in fact is a lie. Runt pretty much cozies up to anyone he thinks might feed him. I mean look at the size of this cat. Food is his only motive.

This is Runt's "Woes is me...I'm hungry!" pose

And then the Finance Guy reached down and started petting Runt and I thought that was nice and awkward.

So the meeting continued.

He was going over 401Ks, IRAs, Life Insurance and the difference between Term and Permanent.

He mentioned that for Life Insurance they would be going over all my medical records which prompted me to announce my infertility treatments.

Really? Why? Why would I mention such a thing. But I did.

And that wasn't all.

I talked about wanting a baby and on the counter was a basket of baby things I left out.

I think at one point there was a small mention of politics and I even mentioned Stockbroker boy who I dated many moons ago when the topic of stocks came up.

Once again WHY? I guess I was just trying to be funny or looking for something to say! Something stupid and embarrassing? I don't know but I couldn't stop.

He asked to use my bathroom. I should have run in there first to make sure there wasn't anything "unmentionable" just hanging out and to check the toilet for any undesirable marks (oh come on you know what I mean!) because once again I chose wine over a quick clean up. And there was of course unmentionables out on display! And I should have made sure Runt wasn't in the sink and he was!

So Finance Guy walks into this:

Runt's in the sink!

He's like: "Ummm...your cat is in here."

Now he was gracious when my cat was licking his shoe but I am pretty sure he didn't want my cat watching him pee!

So I go in there and try to hide shit as I am "oh so conspicuously" shoving the box of tampons under my sink and getting my cat out of the sink.

I'm like: "Oh, he likes water"

Which Runt does but there I go again talking about my cat like he's a person.

Finance Guy pees and then the meeting commences....

At one point the conversation turned to taxes and I said that because I am single I get completely raped with how much I pay in taxes. I have no deductibles. I was going on about how it would be nice for the government to give singles a tax break. A "Thank you for not clogging up the divorce courts" tax break.

Finance Guy was laughing and then said: "I know what you mean. I'm single too."

What What What!!

It was then that I noticed how cute Finance Guy really is and how not cute I was looking. No make-up (which I rarely have on but still)! I have gained what I call my undesirable "non baby" weight and since going through this journey due to non-stop meds that alter your shape and your appearance well, I have been feeling like I've lost my pretty . And in this moment of realization I knew I was not sporting my pretty.

It was then that I also realized all of the stupid things I said that I would have never said if I had known he was single....And it was then that I realized that he is pretty much everything I wrote down on my little list of what I was looking for in a man including "Walking through my front door".

But I am pretty sure that even if let's say for one second Finance Guy did find me attractive (which I highly doubt)...I rapidly put the kabosh on that as soon as he walked in the door with the antics of my cat, the litter, the tampons and then made sure of it throughout the rest of the conversation about babies, politics, guys I've dated, fertility, the money I've spent on it...I think at one point my comment was: "If you knew how much I'd spent you'd jump out that window".

So let's go over what you shouldn't do when a single man does magically walk through your front door.

Don't:

1. Assume they are married.
2. Not clean up! Litter and bathroom!
3. Stop for wine - Okay that's just crazy! Make sure you are stocked up ahead of time!
4. Clean up in front of them.
5. Look like the crazy cat lady.
6. Talk politics.
7. Talk about men you've dated.
8. Talk about your infertility.
9. Talk about babies.

I will say this though, when Finance Guy was walking out, he said goodbye to Runt and then said: "A friendly cat that likes water. Interesting."

And he was gone and I was so glad I had that bottle of wine!

So we know this much...Runt knows how to make a good impression. I only wish I did.

Notice Runt's Heart Shaped Marking

Me trying to be silly at Thanksgiving

A better place...

When I walked into Saint Clair's Hospital at 6am on November 17th 2011, I was not in a good place.

As I sat there being registered for my Out Patient surgery, I was not in a good place.

Each question the staff member asked I answered without thought, without emotion, without truly being present. I was not there. I was somewhere else and it was not a good place.

And then he asked me "Religion?".

I think for the first time I looked up. I looked at him. I really didn't want to look at anyone. I thought if I looked at someone, if I caught their eye, then they would know. They would know that I lost my baby and I was there for a D&C.

When my sister drove me there and dropped me off, I know for the whole car ride I didn't look at her.

I walked the halls with my head down and I didn't look up as sat there answering this man's questions:

"Name?"

"Address?"

"Birth date?"

Until...until he said: "Religion?"

Then I looked up. I looked at him and I said: "What?"

He said: "Religion?"

"Oh"

Pause...

"Yeah"

Pause... as if I was really thinking about it. Or as if he asked me that question in a foreign language and I was still somehow trying to translate it.

Looking away. Looking down again. Then looking up.

I said as almost an afterthought: "None."

Even though I knew it was a lie. Even though I knew that just a week and a half ago I sat in church beaming, smiling from ear to ear and thanking God for the wonderful gift growing inside of me. Even though only 4 days ago I sat in church praying to God to be able to keep my baby. And even though I knew I would be back in church the following Sunday trying to come to terms with this.

At that moment, in that place, I didn't feel any of it. I felt strangely numb. I felt nothing so I said:

"None."

And I watched him type it in.

I walked down the hall to the elevator. Went to the 2nd floor, proceeded left towards the nurse's station for Out Patient surgery the whole time clinging to my piece of paper that declared "Religion: None".

I even stopped and took a picture of it on my phone. I don't know why. As a reminder? In case I forgot or in case I wanted proof that at that moment, in that place, in that bad place, I declared "None".

Because I had nothing left inside. My baby had stopped growing and I was walking down the hall to be admitted for a surgery that was going to remove what was left.

I was in a bad place and I wanted God to know that in this bad place I said: "None".

The rest of the day was as if I was in a dream.

I was in some faraway place when they put my IV in. Some far off place when they wheeled me to the "holding area" where I waited for Dr. O to come in and take me to the OR.

I was trying not to look at anyone. Trying not to cry and trying to pretend I wasn't in that place.

And then Dr. O came in and walked up to me.

That's when I looked at him. I looked at him with the tears starting to fill my eyes and I begged him to perform every test he could think of because I never wanted to be in that place again.

He took his thumb and wiped away that one tear that somehow got away and rolled down my cheek as he promised to do the tests.

Then everything went back into this dream like state as Dr. O wheeled me into the OR...as they moved me to the operating table and started "plugging me in"...as they placed my legs in the stirrups and strapped them down...as the anesthesiologist was getting ready to put me to sleep and as one overly sympathetic and somewhat annoying nurse kept rubbing my arm and trying to look directly into my eyes.

I kept trying to look away from her and all I kept thinking was "Okay, I get it. Your compassionate!"

"Damn I wish this anesthesia would kick in!"

And it did. And I was off to another place. A place of forgetting. Even if it was only for a little while.

The very next day I went back to work. I had to be in a place where I wasn't thinking about it. Where things were I guess you could say "normal". I need to be in a normal place.

But as the day progressed I could feel the pain of the surgery I had less than 24 hours ago. It was a constant reminder of the place I was really in.

I went through the holidays in a very emotional place but trying to show the world I was in a strong place.

And I tried to avoid any place where there was talk of babies or pregnancy.

I couldn't take it. It hurt too much.

But it didn't matter because the news of babies and pregnancies followed me everywhere like a ghost.

A ghost of my pregnancies past that never ended with a baby where everyone else's did.

And I wasn't even in a place to say "Congratulations" or support friends who were finally in the place I so longed to be.

I was angry and hurt and shocked. I was in disbelief and in constant emotional and spiritual pain.

I was not in a good place and I knew it.

But I didn't care.

I pushed forward in an attempt to move on.

I pushed forward in an attempt to ignore the pain.

I pushed forward because I didn't know what else to do.

And I just so desperately wanted to get back to a better place. Back to the place where I was beaming in church.

So I pushed to do my FET right away.

I had 3 frozen embryos from my IVF cycle.

I also have 5 frozen donor embryos which became available just days after my miscarriage. I was so afraid (and so certain) that my FET with my 3 frozen embryos wasn't going to work that I panicked and grabbed the 5 right away. I had to make sure I was in a place to cycle again when my FET would inevitably fail.

I put myself in a place of contempt for my FET.

I was so down that I had convinced myself there was no way my FET could work.

I am a numbers gal and sided on the law of averages and statistics. I figured there was no way I could "hit it out of the park" after just getting pregnant on my last cycle. I figured I was bound to strike out.

I kept telling myself that when the FET doesn't work I can always try again with the 5 frozen donor embryos.

I was just going through the motions. I wanted to get it over with.

I wasn't in a place of excitement and possibility as I had been just 3 months earlier.

But what I really wanted more than anything was for it work and put me back in the place where I was going to be mom.

But just like I predicted my FET did not work. I transferred 3 beautiful embryos and I am not pregnant.

And then I found myself in a place I never thought I would be in...a place of giving up. A place where I can't imagine cycling again and putting myself through it all again.

It could be because I'm not ready. It could be because I am still in a place of mourning.

I need to be in a better place in order to move forward. I know that. But I'm not sure how to get there.

And then out of a place where friendships and camaraderie are born from struggle something amazing happened...

Some absolutely, beyond incredible women contacted me offering to donate their remaining embryos to me.

Their offer has touched a very deep place in my heart and in my soul.

Knowing that there are people in this world that are so willing to open themselves up to help another already puts me in a better place.

It puts me in their world and I am honored.

And suddenly, I'm feeling my fight coming back. I slowly feel myself moving into a place a hope.

I feel myself finding a better place.

Mother fffer....

Around the time of my first miscarriage, a dear friend of my Chi Chi also had a miscarriage. We were both devastated and took solace in each other. We knew we could express all of the hurt to someone who understood. I mean completely understood.

Although it was her first miscarriage Chi Chi insisted on getting as much testing done as she could.

My miscarriage was automatically written off as a "bad" eggs due to Advanced Maternal Age. It never occurred to anyone, myself included, that it could be anything else but...

Meanwhile Chi Chi (who is 8 years younger than me) found out she had the MTHFR gene mutation.

MTHFR

Now I don't know what y'all (and yes I have to use a y'all here)...Now I don't know what y'all see when you look at MTHFR but I but you can guess what I see...

Mother Fucker.

And if it's a gene mutation that causes miscarriages then it really is a Mother Fucker!

So Chi Chi and I started referring to it as the Mother Fucker gene.

Chi Chi has the Mother Fucker gene.

Now I am sure that most of you will know where I am going with this but I have to give you some background first...

The clinic I went to for my last cycle is in NY about a 3 1/2 hour drive north from me. Actually a beautiful, scenic drive that I had the pleasure of seeing in all its autumn glory when I went for my ET in October.

But due to the distance of my new clinic, during this last cycle, I would go to Dr. Wow for my monitoring. And since I have such high affections for Dr. Wow, even though he did not get me pregnant (hmm does that sentence seem odd to you?), I was happy that he was doing my monitoring.

After my positive pregnancy test, I contacted Dr. Wow's office requesting a prenatal ultrasound. The office manager said that they could not perform my prenatal ultrasound because I wasn't technically their patient.

I thought it was weird and I was a little upset because I always envisioned that it would be Dr. Wow who would the doctor in my dream, the one I had right before my first miscarriage, that turned the ultrasound machine towards me so I could see my baby's heartbeat.

But alas (I've always wanted to use alas in sentence)...but alas it was not meant to be. I ended up going to my OB for that fateful ultrasound that did not yield a heartbeat and ultimately resulted in my 2nd miscarriage.

2 days later I started bleeding and they scheduled a D&C.

While my OB was wheeling me into the operating room to perform my D&C, I tearfully asked him to please run an RPL (Reoccurring Pregnancy Loss) panel on me and to test the fetal tissue. He respectfully obliged.

The results of my RPL panel....MTHFR...Mother Fucker...I have the Mother Fucker gene. Plus my Thyroid levels were high and my C-Reactive Protein levels were also high.

The meaning: clotting and immune issues which can cause repeated early pregnancy losses.

The results of the chromosome testing on the fetal tissue...a perfectly healthy baby girl...

The meaning: Mother Fucker!