Our sleep was cut from an hour and a half between feedings to about forty minutes.

Chatm to horny peps for free no regester-48

Having gotten pregnant easily twice, we were optimistic about our chances for a third try. My husband, ever the optimist, was sure that if we just kept having lots of sex we’d be successful. I realized I was no longer in the driver’s seat – these babies were coming into my life in the next half-hour, and for the first time I seemed to understand what that was really going to mean.

Ten months later, after three failed intrauterine inseminations, one failed injectable cycle, and one failed IVF, we were on our last try, using the three frozen embryos we had leftover from our IVF cycle. We had reached the end of our financial rope, as well as my husband’s willingness to go through any more shots and tests. Before I could ask the doctor if we could reschedule the operation, the epidural was in and I was being laid down on the table.

From that day on, getting pregnant was all I thought about. * * * I have suffered from depression for most of my life and have been on medication since I was twenty-one. I couldn’t see myself being depressed after they were born. I had my C-section a week earlier than expected on a cold Wednesday night.

We tried again immediately, got pregnant again, and then lost that baby after a week. When we found out we were having a boy and a girl, I felt like I had won the jackpot. After I met my husband, I was so happy and stable that together we made the decision that I would go off of them. The gentle haze of expectant motherhood abruptly cleared when I sat on the edge of the operating table, waiting for the anesthesiologist to administer my epidural.

In the produce section, while my eyes jump around looking for the bananas, a woman with sagging pantyhose walks up to me.

As soon as she asks me if they are twins, I bolt down the aisle.

I cannot bear to look at her grinning face or summon the energy for a smile of my own.

I didn’t take the time to look in a mirror before I left the house, but I know that the circles under my eyes are purple, I am wearing my husband’s college sweatshirt and track pants and every time my breasts shift, the shooting pain from mastitis makes my eyes fill with tears.

I ran to Target and bought my husband a bib with the words “I Love Daddy.” I called my mom.

Then, at twelve weeks I had an ultrasound and learned that our baby was dead.

After two years of trying and almost 20,000 borrowed dollars, I finally had a successful pregnancy on my second cycle of IVF.