My Secondary Infertile Tale...

Once upon a time I married Moonpie (after a long 3 month courtship). After 18 months I threw my birth control pills out of the window (not really). We didn't have to wait long. We had steamy sex alot and 2 months later the stick had 2 lines. Enter Calie. Cute. FUNNY.

"Let's wait til she is potty trained--then have another!" Then, "Let's wait til she starts school--then have another!" Then, without really trying, I got pregnate. We were thrilled. The day I told my parents--I started bleeding. I was so sad. It still haunts me.

That started the "Hunt for 2 Lines". I started writing down every time we had sex. Every time my period started. How long it lasted. Took several (waaay more than several) home pregnancy tests. Went to the doctor. Started taking my temperature every day. Charting my cycles. Reading "Taking Charge of Your Fertility". Joined online groups of other desperate, hopeful, Mommy wanna bes. Shared **baby dust**. Checked my cervical mucous (umm, yuck). Made Moonpie perform on demand. Don't worry, he enjoyed it all. For once *I* was begging for sex. Made him "shoot a load" into a cup (we were in a parking lot of a Mexican resturaunt) so I could have him tested (He had "Super Sperm") at a local lab. Peed on Ovulation sticks. Took MORE home pregnancy test (that I failed). Went *back* to the doctor. Cried. Alot.

Three years after I started hunting... I had my pipes cleaned out (my tubes were a little slow and they flushed them out). Three days after that--I got pregnate. I thought our world was perfect. We were moved into our new house. Moonpie had a good job at the hospital--in the medical field. I had a good job for someone eho had never finished college. I was a supervisor. Salary. We were bringing home about $5,000 per month. Then I was downsized (that company is in the toliet now hee hee). Depressed. Hospitalized (pregnancy complication). Had to sell our house (MY dream house). Enter Claudia. Precious. 2 girls--10 years apart! Moved. Then I found out I was pregnate again. What the fuck!? I hadn't even had a period yet! Claudia was 6 month old for Jims sake! Then I lost my mind. Zoloft was prescribed. I was put on suicide watch by Moonpie. Enter Carson. Momma's Boy. And when he was 5 weeks old, we moved 5 hours away to be close to family who could watch me while Moonpie was at work. Finally, the post partum/ptsd lifted...

Three years later, we were looking to buy another house. We were back in East Texas. Both of us working. Moonpie at the local hospital. Me in a local doctor's office. I was enjoying working. Our finances were becoming stable again. We found Moonpie's dream home. Out in the boon docks. A barn. 4 acres, COUNTRY living. I was on "that patch" that is supposed to work like the pill. One week before closing on the house, I found out I was pregnate again. WHAT!? HOW!? WHY!?

I quit my job (I puke ALOT while pregante). Jumped back on Zoloft. Cried alot. Was in shock. HATED my life. Had a few scares (and an amnio). Enter Caden. Awwww. perfect.

Now, I have 4 beautiful kids that I love more than life. Every single one of them are my most prized possesions (even tho a suspect 2 of them are possessed by Satan). I don't regret them at all. I treasure them. They make our family perfect. Moonpie and I are in love with them. He worships and spoils them all.

I know how hard it is to want kids and feel denied. And I know how it is to have those "OH MY GAWD" 2 lines. I wouldn't trade any of it. Or change any of it. It's made me who I am. Mom to four.