I just don't...

.... Know where to start, really. It's just an update post because its been so long, and its Christmas, and its the beginning of a New Year and all.

2012 was really a follow on from 2011. The highs and blessings versus the smash down lows. 2011 ended with Shane losing his job, which in turn meant our house, as we live in employer provided housing. It meant that even when he found a new job, we had to spend thousands moving house, for the second time in six months. Talk about putting us on the back foot before we'd even put a foot forward?

Everything is working out ok here. The pay is low, but they pay overtime which most places don't, so that helps prop it up. It'd be nice to get ahead a little, but its not going to happen. I'm still spending. Slowly. We have no cupboards in this house, and its a long, expensive, slow project of buying suitable furniture, cupboards that work in THIS house, and storage solutions. The location has benefits and pitfalls. We are halfway between three towns, but we are 40 minutes drive from anywhere. Shane is happy enough, and the boss is happy with him. I can relax a little there.

I'm feeling more settled, and I'm very gradually sorting through the unorganised tumble that had become our life. It will take a long time, but most days I see progress and I'm not so often overwhelmed. It's tough though, with the blessing that is a rambunctious little boy who is a handful. God bless him.

But then there's been the whole IVF stuff. Trying to start in April when Toby turned one. But delay after delay. My thyroid issues meant being referred to an endo, which took months to get into. Then waiting for the meds to start to kick in.

And then we finally started and joy of joys, fell pregnant with number four straight away.

A little girl.. Did I tell you that? Thank you universe, for the tease. Not that I want a girl any more than a boy, but how sweet to know what could have been.

I opted for a D & C. It never sat well - I am one to believe that my body knows best. It went well, but I'm still paying the price. After two births and a previous miscarriage my body snaps back 6 weeks post partum. This time it's all over the shop. Never mind, it was the best decision at the time, and I would probably do it again.

The genetic testing results came back via our FS, and I was very upset. She writes a shocking letter, and she apologised for it. Her letter read that the tissue tested may have been mine (as it was XX) and what the chromosome issues were (balanced translocations) but that they could make up a "normal" person. For twenty four hours I cried because I thought I had just been told I was a freak. Seriously. I didn't tell Shane for hours, because I was so embarrassed. And shattered because it felt like our child(rens) deaths were my fault. We already know that what happened with Ciaran came from my side, but this was too much.

The next morning I rang the geneticist at the big city hospital who has the family case. She shrugged it off, but eased my mind by saying it sounded like a straightforward "incompatible with life" translocation.

We had subsequent genetic testing and we are both "perfect" in the genetic sense!

But the thing is.... That "tease" of a pregnancy has put me in a worse place. It's three months since the procedure, but in so many ways I feel worse than I have in years. It's different to losing Ciaran, obviously. But it has brought a lot of bitterness to the surface. I'm angry about it, but I'm not sure who or what at, so it's hard to "get out". I struggle more with depression now than I did then, and I think I'm moving forward closer to ADs. Not that there is anything wrong with them, but so far they haven't been for me. I still need to be sure we have completed our family though for my own peace if mind.

So there's the million dollar question. I'm not ready to accept that Toby won't have a sibling. He needs someone to play (and fight!) with! It doesn't sit well for me. But then I'm at the stage of not knowing when to stop. It will most probably not be a choice. Suddenly with the burden of our latest loss, and the delays along the way, I'm feeling my age. I'm weary of loss. I'm weary of grief. But there is no rest from the burden.

I'm 42 in 6 weeks or so. It's suddenly starting to hit me, the extra challenges that come with having babies (or trying) at this age. It adds more weight to what I carry.

And speaking of weight, tanks to the extra dollop of depression, along with a side of prednisone (to fight off the natural killer cells while I'm cycling under IVF), I've stacked it on. Seriously. And rather tan being spurred on to do something about it, it depresses me even more.

We used our last embaby before Christmas but to no avail. My body went all out of whack, and I didn't hold much hope for it anyway as it was from our first stim cycle, rather than Toby's. i didnt talk about it, not to anyone IRL or on my blog. I'm past the public stage on that. i need to deal with the disappointments (or even excitements) myself now before i cone clean. and its just not something that needs to be discussed anyway. I had my ovarian reserve tested and the number came back as fair to good for my age. We will meet with the FS to discuss what she thinks. We are so much older than our last stim cycle.

But the big question is money. We're all but out. It will be scratching and scrimping to try again, and possibly not even a choice. But we will see what the FS says, before I stress about finding the dollars or not.

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Christmas was ok. Enjoyable. I'm a bit precious, as I said, and need some space, but not too much. It's a fine line. Toby was spoiled rotten, and we got a lot of enjoyment from his enjoyment. He was one of the three wise men at the Carols By Candlelight, and melted my heart in his get up!

Santa was way too good. Again. But I can't help but think tat there is another little boy who I can't buy for, and that makes me angry.

New Year was quiet. Sleeping actually! What happened and when did I get old?