Another Chemical Pregnancy

Okay so after reading the title you should have a fair idea what this blog will be about; a Chemical Pregnancy. You may be thinking, “But you already talked about those in another blog?” well my friends, I have experienced yet another one. I can imagine that a few of you may be confused if you read my blog “The bitch is here” regarding AF arriving so if you read on I will explain what happened, in a fair amount of detail so be warned, it may be a bit TMI so don’t read on if you don’t want to know! My husband and I only discussed this with my parents and a few very close friends so this is news to most of you. We weren’t sure whether we were going to share this experience with everyone as it was a very stressful and difficult time for us, but I figured this is the reason why I write these blogs, to share everything. So here it goes…

On Thursday 12^th December, AF (Aunt Flow – Menstrual Period) arrived. It was painful, I was cramping and had a very sore back but the flow was only medium. AF lasted only 5 days, with the last day only spotting and in that whole time I never had one clot (sorry I know very TMI but I did warn you!). So seeing as I’d had my period, there’s no reason to test right? Wrong.

On Wednesday 18^th December I woke up with a huge urge to test. Which is unusual because I don’t normally test after AF arrives, so I honestly feel like there was a bit of intervention going on here (I will go more into this a bit later, so you can save your eye rolling for then). Anyway, I had one Pregnosis brand pregnancy test left and thought “Why not use it?” I figured if I used it up now, I wouldn’t be tempted to test at the end of my next cycle as I wouldn’t have any pregnancy tests left. So I took the test going by its instructions and left it sit in the urine for 3-5 minutes, had my breakfast and came back to look at it and what do you know, there’s a faint line. I decided not to rush out and buy another test because, as most of you know, I tend to get a bit of line eye. I waited until Jamie got home and I had him look at the test and he said “Wow there really is a line there, but it’s really really faint.” So I asked him to race out and grab me another test but make sure it’s a different brand just in case this brand was dodgy (as I had only used this brand once before, ironically when I had my last chemical pregnancy). He came back with a First Response in Stream test which I took straight away and yep you guessed it, a second faint line came up, however Jamie struggled to see it so I removed the test from its case and showed him and he then was able to see the line clearly.

Fast forward to Friday 20^th December, I had taken 2 tests a day since Wednesday, so another 4 tests all up which all came up with a faint second line AND the line was getting darker with every test I took. I phoned my doctor who wanted to do some blood tests to see what was going on, but unfortunately I wasn’t able to get any tests done until Monday as the Lab had closed already for the weekend. On Saturday 21^st December I took another test (also a First Response in stream) and it came up with the darkest second line I have ever had. Granted it was still faint, but it was definitely there. Jamie and I were 90% convinced that we were pregnant and we were beside ourselves with excitement. After doing a whole bunch of research online I learnt that bleeding during early pregnancy is, while definitely not normal, a common occurrence and 50% of the time it ends up being a healthy pregnancy, so we felt like this was definitely it for us. We decided to tell my parents (who already had a good idea of what was going on as I am very close with my Mum) and also my sister-in-law and brother, (who also already had an idea as Serena was the first person I told on Wednesday after Jamie of course) as well as 2 of our very close friends, but I also told them all that we had a high chance of it possibly being a miscarriage that has just shown up late on the tests, but that we felt like we were definitely pregnant seeing as the tests were getting darker rather than lighter and also because with my last chemical pregnancies, I only ever got 2 positive tests and the rest were negative & by now I had 8 positive tests (I took a second First response test on Saturday morning, a dip in one, just to be sure). We decided on Sunday that I shouldn’t bother testing as it was a waste of money, but on Monday morning I felt the need to test as I was feeling very anxious. I took another First Response test and it came back Negative. I was feeling very confused but thought maybe I did it wrong and went and got my blood test done. I decided to take another 2 tests that night (both different brands) and both also came back negative, but I put it down to having diluted urine, but I guess I should have known better.

 

This is my faint positive test, bit hard to see on camera.

On Tuesday 24^th December, I phoned my doctor’s office for results and they told me that my bloods had come back at a 2!!! Anything under 5 is classed as NEGATIVE. I got off the phone and immediately posted on baby centre (an online forum for women who are trying to conceive or are already pregnant) what had happened, and that I was confused and needed advice. How could I have so many positive tests, even if they were faint, if I was never pregnant? Every single person that commented (about 11 people) said that I had experienced a chemical pregnancy. My mother rang shortly after I got off the phone and I explained to her what had happened, and we agreed that I will NEVER take another at home pregnancy test again as it is not worth the stress. Next time I will wait until I miss a period and then I will go and get bloods done. I then sent a message to my sister-in-law and also to my friend to let them know that I wasn’t pregnant, and I actually just told them both that I must have just had dodgy tests. I didn’t want to have to explain the whole situation and what a Chemical Pregnancy is at the time as I was trying my best not to get upset. Jamie then came out of the bedroom after having a sleep in and I told him what happened and he straight away said “WTF? Really? You’re never going to take another one of those tests again hey, it’s not worth it.” We both were feeling extremely frustrated and disappointed. I felt really horrible for having gotten Jamie’s hopes up, for the first time since we’ve been trying; he was really excited that we were pregnant without having to use medication. In the few days that we’d had thinking we were going to be parents soon, we had discussed a lot about how amazing it is that we won’t have to have medication. We literally had moments where one of us would look at the other and say “This is so exciting!” and we would both act like giddy kids on Christmas Eve.

I decided to message a nurse who’s videos I’d seen on YouTube and ask her what could have happened and whether I could have just had a whole bunch of dodgy tests and today she finally messaged me back and said the only reason you get a second line on a test is if you are or recently were pregnant. After doing lots and lots more research I realised that this is definitely what has happened as there really is no other explanation for it. What also confirmed it for me is the fact that every other time I have had a blood test done, it had ALWAYS come back at LESS THAN 2, so the fact that it came back at a 2 tells me something must have happened. I am going to discuss this with my Doctor at my appointment in January and ask what causes it and why it happens but I don’t know what difference it will make.

We are coping fairly well with the whole thing considering. I am yet to shed a tear over what has happened this time round, but I have also kept myself extremely busy since Christmas Eve. Now that I am getting to the end of this blog I am beginning to feel a bit teary and will most likely not finish it without shedding a tear or two but I won’t allow myself to be miserable about this. Even though I am feeling hurt and confused, crying about it isn’t going to help the situation. I am trying to think of the positive side of this happening, at least we know the sperm is meeting the egg, which is a very good sign. So far we have just had 3 embryos that haven’t been strong enough to make it yet. Getting back to what I mentioned earlier, I think there must have been a reason why I felt so badly that I needed to test that morning. I feel like God was trying to say to me to relax and stop worrying, that there isn’t anything wrong and that we will fall pregnant if I stop stressing about it, that what we are doing IS working, it just hasn’t been the right timing yet. I think He was also trying to give me a message that testing isn’t helping and that it is only adding to my stress. Somehow, I believe He knew that I would need a pretty huge sign for me to stop testing and I feel like this was it. Not the Chemical Pregnancy itself, but the tests to show it. If I hadn’t tested I wouldn’t have known about it. So in a way, me knowing about it is a good thing, even though it really hurts and it has been really hard to put on a brave face for everyone (especially during Christmas), at least now I will not spend day after day towards the end of my cycle, peeing on sticks and staring at them until I go cross-eyed hoping for a line to appear. I am now going into the Fertility treatment knowing that I’m not going to drive myself crazy over it, and for that I am thankful.

I was right too, I did shed a few tears before I got through writing this blog, and I will probably shed a few more now that I am done, but I will pick myself up and we will try again. At the end of the day, when it is meant to happen, it will.

I would also like to add how grateful I am for my amazing Husband and my beautiful family and friends (you know who you are). Their support has really helped through this and I feel very blessed to have such amazing people in my life, I love you all to the stars and back.

Much Love & Rainbows,

Kimberly Xoxox

Christmas 2013

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you all had a wonderful day spent with family and friends, filled with love, laughter and lots of food.

Our Christmas was very different this year, well for me anyway. My family always does a huge Christmas and ever since I was born I’ve only ever had Christmas with my family. It has always consisted of breakfast with the whole family at Mum & Dad’s (or my Grandparents house) then we open presents, have morning tea, then a big roast lunch with Bon Bons and the telling of stupid jokes (Why did the man get fired from the orange juice factory? Because he couldn’t concentrate.) and a Christmas pudding dessert. The afternoons have varied over the years, some would consist of having a nap or playing with presents and some (the most recent ones) have seen us go back to our own houses and have a rest or go to my brother & sister-in-law’s place. This year was different because this is the only Christmas (except one year where my brother threw a tantrum and decided to have Christmas by himself playing Xbox, he was 18 or 19, it was a short lived phase) where my brother hasn’t been there. This year is also different because we now have a baby in the family. Slater (or fondly known as Buddha Man) was born in April this year and this was his first Christmas. Now because Scott and Serena spent Christmas with us last year, it was only fair for them to spend Christmas with Serena’s family this year. It’s safe to say we definitely missed them and Jamie and I really didn’t know what to do with ourselves, nor did Dad. Normally all the “grown-ups” spend time together talking while us “kids” and Dad play card games or do stupid things or tell silly stories. This year Jamie and I found ourselves playing with the giant bubble-blower we bought from Woolworths for $1, on the veranda for 20 minutes before Dad came out and joined us (he sat there, watched and told us how sad we were for being amused by bubbles at our age, funnily enough he seemed to be entertained by it for 15 minutes or so before it got too hot). Don’t get me wrong, we had a lovely Christmas morning, but it was definitely a big change from the usual for us.

The other thing that is different this year is that Grandad isn’t as well as he used to be. He has Parkinson’s disease which unfortunately has gotten much worse recently to the point where he is a bit hunched over to one side and can’t really move around much. He is still the same Grandad we all know and love but just not as active. It’s extremely difficult to watch someone you love struggling. I think the fact that he has been the only Grandad I’ve ever known, and has always been such a wonderful Grandparent to Scott and I and also now Jamie and Serena, it makes it that extra bit harder. My grandparents live about 4 hours away from us in a remote town so we don’t see them very often (usually twice a year on average) and its becoming clear to me that we need to make the effort to go and visit them more, seeing as they can’t come down and see us whenever they like (neither of them can drive long distance anymore). I am going to make it one of my new year’s resolutions to go and see them more. I suppose the reason we don’t go and visit is because it can be a bit boring as there isn’t much to do where they live. I think if we can organise for Scott, Serena & Buddha to come with us it will be better and also a far less tiring drive.

We decided to go out to the farm today to see my Grandparents again before they leave tomorrow and I got to have a chat with just my grandparents, no one else. This is something that is of rare occurrence as there are always so many people around, the last time I sat down with just my grandparents and chatted would have been when I was 18 and visited them on my way through to Blackwater.

One of the reasons I love my Grandad is because he always seems to have some advice that no one has told me before. We were discussing the fact that Jamie and I are going to be doing fertility treatment in January and all of the options we have. I was saying that I’m nervous about taking new medication after what I have heard from others and also read online about the side effects of a drug called Clomid and that I am hoping to go onto Femara as it seems to be easier to take. After telling my grandparents about how Clomid increases your chances of uterine cancer as well as increases your risk for miscarriage and that it can also cause OHSS (Ovarian Hyper Stimulation Syndrome) which can make you very sick or even kill you, a side effect that can also come from Femara, my Grandad piped up and said “One thing you have to remember with new medication is that they wouldn’t keep giving it to people if it was going to kill you.” This piece of advice may seem very small and obvious but it honestly wasn’t something that I had thought about before. It really made me think about everything and about how right he is. Regardless of all of the side effects, so many women still use Clomid and lots of those women go onto have healthy babies, as do those using Femara. It may not be a very nice process, having to use fertility medication, and it definitely still doesn’t feel “fair” that we have to use medication to get pregnant; however we are lucky that we have options. Back in my Grandparents’ day, they didn’t have all of the options that we do now. Back then, if you were “barren” then that was it, tough, no babies for you. That one comment has given me a whole new perspective on the process and I am feeling far less frightened about going onto medication now. My grandfather is on a cocktail of medication, I assume some for his Parkinson’s, some for his diabetes and some for his blood pressure and he never complains. He is one of the most relaxed people I know when it comes to the medical side of things. Today we were also discussing my fear (and also my grandmother’s) of going to the dentist and Grandad reminded me that he actually falls asleep while getting a tooth pulled or getting a filling. He falls asleep!! How crazy is that! Something that frightens the sh*t out of me, puts my Grandad to sleep.

Today I am feeling extremely grateful to have been lucky enough to spend another Christmas with my grandparents. They are honestly the best Grandparents anyone could ever ask for.

I also learned how similar I am to my Grannie over the past few days. As most of you now know, I have pretty bad anxiety and I learnt that my grandmother also suffers with it too. I always knew she was a worrier and she has to take something similar to Valium to go the dentist, but I never realised that she also suffers panic attacks. While we were talking about how one of our good friends mentioned to me recently that I am the worst he’s ever seen me (anxiety wise) Grannie mentioned that she also gets nervous from the same things that I do and I asked how she deals with it and she said “You just have to grit your teeth and get through it don’t you” which is so true. I absolutely adore my Grannie, and so does everyone else that meets her. She would do absolutely anything for the people she loves, and she would do almost anything for a stranger in need too. My Grannie has the most energy I have ever seen in such a little person, she is a bit shorter than me and weighs about the same as I do and she is so active. We were comparing our biceps (as you do) and hers are literally almost double the size of mine!! That’s just from doing everyday things around the house and in the garden. My Grandmother is honestly one of the most amazing and inspiring people I have ever known and she does so much for Grandad and never ever complains. She is the most beautiful woman I know (aside from my mother of course) inside and out. If I end up being half as amazing as she is by the time I’m her age I’ll be happy, I want to grow up and be just like her.

 

Anyway, we spent Breakfast and Lunch at my parents place and then went to Jamie’s Mum’s house afterwards. We opened presents and then everyone (except me because I was being a sook) got out water guns and drenched each other, even inside the house!! Very different to my family, definitely not something they would do, even outside. We spent a few hours there and then came home and crashed. It’s safe to say we were both absolutely exhausted.

All in all we had a wonderful Christmas, even if it was very different to what I am used to.

I have to say though, I did have the thought cross my mind that if those chemical pregnancies last year hadn’t been “chemical” and had turned into a healthy pregnancy, that we would have had a baby this Christmas, so it was a little bitter sweet for me. But the idea that (hopefully) we might actually have a baby and be parents next Christmas is amazing! Just the thought of it makes both Jamie and I giddy with excitement. After the advice I have received from my very wise Grandparents, I am going to do my best to try and look at the journey we are planning to go on next year as a positive one, and to be grateful that we even have the options for Fertility treatment. I am now looking forward to my appointment in January and looking at the whole thing with a brand new (positive) perspective.

 

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and got a well deserved break! Merry Christmas!

 

As always,

Much Love & Rainbows,

Kimberly Xxox

 

Anxiety: Part 1

Tonight I have decided to write about something else that very few people know about me. Now this will probably have to be written in parts as it is quite a long story and it won’t really make sense unless you know the background story. Now as you can tell from the title, this is going to be about my battle with Anxiety and Depression. However, I have a feeling this blog may turn into more about my eating disorders so feel free to skip this one if you like. It will be based on my battle with anxiety and depression during my school years and I will (hopefully) get to where I am at now in Part 2. Please also understand that while I am sharing this with the whole online world, it is still something very personal to me and I do realise I am sharing a weakness of mine so please remember to be kind! I understand that I am completely opening myself up for judgement (if not welcoming it) but my aim with these blogs is to try and help others going through what I’ve been through (and am still going through) and to let those of you dealing with the same issues that you are not at all alone. Anyway with all that said, let’s get started. (I will try to keep it short, I promise).

Where do I begin? I guess I should start with the fact that I do have a family of worriers, some who also have suffered with anxiety and some who are just generally highly strung. Therefor I suppose some might say I was “destined to be a “highly strung” (as my mother calls me) person’. However, I seemed to cope pretty well until (what I assume is part of the reason) I hit the early stages of puberty and my hormones started playing a large part in my life. At the time we had no idea I had PCOS, but I do personally believe (and this hasn’t been linked to PCOS officially, however after joining several PCOS support groups I have found that this is the case for A LOT of women with PCOS) that it is a big part of the reason why I developed anxiety. Having PCOS means your hormones are completely out of whack (Hormonal imbalance is a key symptom of PCOS), which in turn plays on your emotions and I believe then affects your mental strength and coping mechanisms. In my eyes, how is someone expected to cope when the hormones that affect your emotional state are completely warped? The reason why I believe my hormones have a big part to play in my struggle with anxiety is because I didn’t start to see any signs of anxiety until I was the ripe age of  11 years old (Grade 6, funnily enough also when everyone else was starting to get their period, except for me). On my first day of Grade 6, I was put into a composite 6/7 class which meant that we would be sharing a class with a few Grade 7s. I had been in composite classes before but it never really worried me. I was seated with a few Grade 7 boys as well as a friend from my grade, but as soon as I sat down I couldn’t breathe and felt very nervous and just sick. I went up to my teacher and told her I felt unwell and she sent me to sick bay and I went home. I had just experienced my second ever panic attack. My first one I experienced while sitting on the couch watching the news. I can’t remember how old I was, but I remember just sitting there and feeling extremely frightened all of a sudden for absolutely no reason. I ended up crying and saying to mum I felt sick and she put me to bed and I didn’t have another one again until Grade 6. To be honest, I don’t really remember how my eating disorder began, but I assume it was from anxiety about going to school. I couldn’t work out why I was so nervous about going but no matter what I did I couldn’t shake it. Then one night while I was eating dinner I got a bit of food stuck in my throat, it didn’t choke me but it felt extremely uncomfortable and made me very nervous. All I can recall after that is being too frightened to eat for fear of choking. I wouldn’t even eat my favourite foods, not even donuts! (for those of you who know me well, I very rarely turn down donuts, I am a real life Homer Simpson, drool and everything, just not as fat, but probably just as stupid). As the year went on, I lost a lot of weight and the only thing I would eat was liquid based foods. Anything pureed or milkshakes, and Sustagen became mine (and my mother’s) best friend. At 11 years old, I weighed about 32kgs. My parents took me to a paediatrician who explained to them that if they ignored the problem it would eventually go away, and it did at the end of the school year. Over the school holidays I managed to eat fairly normally and get back to my “usual” self. Then I started Grade 7. I can’t really remember how it happened this time as I am pretty sure my first day of school was fine. I was nervous, but I adored my new teacher. She was a lot of fun and ended up being extremely supportive. However, I somehow managed to develop yet another eating disorder, except this one was far worse. I refused to eat anything for a fear of vomiting. I have always been one of those people that cannot stand throwing up and my father is the exact same except he doesn’t seem to have a fear of it. Anyway, I ended up getting down to 28kgs, my Mother had to have a meeting with the Principal and teachers at school as they had never had to deal with a child with Anorexia Nervosa, well not in this form anyway. The reason most people have Anorexia is because they are unhappy with the way they look and are afraid of becoming fat, however I was just scared of getting sick, which was extremely difficult for anyone to comprehend. My parents (understandably) became very frustrated. They tried everything, letting me eat what I want, trying to force me to eat, trying to explain to me that if I didn’t eat I would die (which was true but I didn’t believe there was anything wrong with me) but nothing worked. They took me back to the same paediatrician as the year before and she reassured them that if they once again ignored the problem and let me prepare my own meals (I’m a bit of a hygiene freak) it should go away, and it did. I missed A LOT of school but still managed to be in the top 5 in my grade and received an Academic award upon Graduation (which completely shocked everyone, including my parents who nearly fell off their chairs). I didn’t begin to get better until after school had finished but over the school holidays I managed to get back up to about 35kg.

On the first day of Grade 8 (highschool), I didn’t know it at the time, but my parents were very nervous. They were worried that the transition of a new school would cause me to relapse. To everyone’s surprise I was completely fine. I still missed a lot of school because of anxiety and bullying, but I managed to complete the Year with mostly A’s and B’s in all classes (I think I may have gotten a C here and there too). In 2006, we moved and I started Grade 9 at a brand new school, in a brand new town knowing absolutely nobody. I even had to take the school bus for the first time ever, and yet this still didn’t trigger my anxiety. At the end of Grade 9 (TMI Warning) I finally got my period! I was at school and went to the bathroom between classes and realised it had shown up. I immediately texted my Mum (I’m so rebellious I know) to come and pick me up. I ended up being one of the unlucky ones who had horrible periods and unfortunately that meant that once every month or so (I had irregular periods) I would have to have about a week off school because of it. I still managed to do okay even though I was really badly bullied towards the end of Grade 9 and all through Grade 10. By Grade 11 I had found my feet and had a fantastic group of friends that I adored and that were very supportive. I was doing really well in all of my classes (except legal studies and maths, it bored me so much and I just didn’t understand it) and was managing to go to school like a normal kid (not missing too many days). That was until about September when I went on the contraceptive pill to (hopefully) help ease my periods and make them a bit more regular. This ended up making me extremely nauseous, but at the time we didn’t realise this was the cause, so I started missing school again. I then started to get really sick and could barely eat, it wasn’t an anxiety thing, I was always in pain in my lower stomach but it wasn’t appendicitis so the doctors couldn’t diagnose what it was. I went on a number of different antibiotics that never helped. Then finally they sent me for an ultrasound where they found I’d had an ovarian cyst rupture. I ended up missing almost a whole semester of school, but luckily enough my grades were good enough to be transferred over to the next year so I didn’t have to repeat the grade.

I was feeling anxious over school holidays about returning to school because I had begun to associate it with feeling unwell, so I decided to see a psychologist to hopefully gain some techniques on how to cope with nerves and anxiety. Unfortunately, she managed to make things far worse and tried to diagnose me with a whole bunch of things that I did not have (including OCD, which if you know me, I am far too lazy to have) and the only solution she offered was medication. I had to start school regardless, so we were just hoping once I was around my friends again that I would be fine. Unfortunately this was not the case at all. I started having panic attacks as soon as I got to school and just was constantly nervous. I managed to get through the whole term right up until exams. I went to school the week before exams and got extremely nervous once I got to class. I walked in and said to the teacher that I was having chest pains and couldn’t breathe properly. I then went up to sick bay and one of the admins there happened to be a former nurse and explained to me that I was having a panic attack (however I had never experienced one like this before my normal panic attacks consisted of feeling extremely nervous and hyperventilating but I never had the chest pains or shortness of breath before, let alone the hysterical crying). I stayed in sick bay crying for most of the day and begged them not to ring my Mum (she had an important meeting on that day and had told me not to call her) but they must have been at their wits end and called her without telling me as my mother was all of a sudden standing at the door of the sick bay looking furious. At the time she thought I was just being silly and thought I was just nervous but the school nurse came to have a meeting with us in the sick bay told us that her personal opinion was that I had severe anxiety and advised us that there was a tablet I could get from the health food shop that should help ease my panic attacks. My mother took me down to the doctor’s office straight away to see a nurse as the doctors were all busy. Seeing as I was still balling my eyes out and couldn’t work out why, the nurse advised that I needed to see a doctor, but that they couldn’t fit me in until after school. I went back to work with Mum and then after having lunch felt much better and wanted to go back to school for sport, so I did. (This is where I really believe PCOS plays a HUGE role in my anxiety, because those with anxiety can’t just switch it on and off like that) I went to the doctor that afternoon and he told my mother and I that he felt I had moderate depression and severe anxiety, to which my mother replied “well cant she just get over it” (at the time she was frustrated, I assume because she didn’t know how to fix it seeing as the psychologist made it worse, and she didn’t want to put me on medication) and the doctor explained to her that unfortunately it didn’t work like that and prescribed me some anti-depressants. As soon as we walked out of the Doctors surgery my mother and I both agreed this would be a last resort. So we went and got the herbal tablets the nurse was talking about and they seemed to work. I went back to school for a week while taking those and was feeling much better. That is until the first day of exams came around. My mum came into my room to wake me up for school but I was already awake and had been for hours, nervous about exams, unfortunately none of us had realised that missing a whole semester meant that I wouldn’t understand 90% of the work in Grade 12, and at the time I was too embarrassed to admit that I didn’t understand a single thing I was being taught, which was why I was so nervous. I didn’t want to fail the exams and look stupid in front of everyone. I explained to her I wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to go to school. She was annoyed but understood and asked if I actually wanted to finish school (as she felt that was part of the problem with my anxiety, I was being bullied once again but this time I wasn’t able to cope with it even though it wasn’t as severe as the previous years). I hadn’t realised it was an option to drop out of school, but Mum explained that Dad would have to agree to it first (which I knew was pretty slim chances as he didn’t like it when I gave up on things, I have a habit of saying things are “too hard”, people mostly think that I’m lazy but it is actually because of a fear of failing, so I figure I may as well give up before people get their hopes up, another little secret I’m pretty sure no one knows, aren’t you lucky you read this far!). After much frustration from Dad and him saying “You must have a job and you must stick to it, there will be no doll bludgers in my house” (luckily I already had a part time job) and many tears from me, he agreed that there really wasn’t any other option if I wanted to stay sane without needing medication. So the very next morning Mum took me up to the Office at school and I dropped out of Grade 12 (conveniently after getting my Grade 12 jersey). I started seeing someone who performed Reike (a form of healing massage, a bit airy fairy) who was extremely helpful and I continued to take my herbal tablets when I needed them and they really helped. I even got a second job at a pub and absolutely loved it.  I managed to deal with my anxiety and was coping quite well with only a few panic attacks here and there (usually only when I was tired or sick). I was doing really well until last year. But I will save that for Part 2!

 Great job if you read through this whole thing!! Sorry it is so long but thought I’d better include everything! I’m not sure when I will get to Part 2 (hopefully soon) but I may do a separate blog about what it’s like to live with anxiety and I may include what it’s like for your partner/family to deal with someone who is living with anxiety. I can’t make any promises about that though as my family will need to be willing to participate in that but we’ll see.

Anyway thank you so much if you read this whole thing! If you are suffering anxiety, feel free to contact me, I am always happy to talk (as you can probably tell by now) but I am also a great listener (or so I’ve been told). Even if you know someone who is going through anxiety and/or depression and you aren’t sure how to support them, I am more than happy to offer some advice. Also, if you have any questions, ask away! As I have said before, I am an open book!

 

Much love and Rainbows,

Kimberly Xoxox

The Bitch Has Arrived...

As you may have guessed from the title, AF (Aunt Flow) has arrived. It arrived on Thursday, 12^th December. I wanted to write this the day it showed but I was too upset and luckily distracted by my amazing hubby, but I’ll get to that later.

Going by my first positive OPK (ovulation test) AF was due on Tuesday 10^th December, so when it didn’t show I was sure I was pregnant. I was feeling a little crampy for a few days but figured maybe it was the “pulling pains” that many women describe during early pregnancy. On Thursday morning I was feeling stronger cramps but tried my best to ignore them and when I got out of bed and saw that AF still wasn’t here I decided to go and purchase a “proper” pregnancy test (as opposed to the internet cheapies I normally use). I rushed home and took the test and sat there analizing it until the maximum time was reached, but of course it was a BFN (Big Fat Negative). I still had some hope as I know quite a few women that don’t get a positive urine test until 1 or even 2 weeks after their missed period. By lunch time I couldn’t ignore the cramps anymore as they became quite severe so I decided to go to the bathroom and sure enough AF had arrived, and without even thinking I literally yelled out “F**k!”. I got myself organised and went outside and told Jamie and then proceeded to have a little teary but I wasn’t as upset as I expected to be (well not yet anyway). I was more frustrated than anything. An hour or so later Hubby decided to try and cheer me up so he suggested we set up the Christmas lights outside (something I had really been looking forward to as I had never done it before, I lived out of town for my whole childhood), and I literally burst into tears and I wasn’t just crying normally, I was doing the whole can’t catch your breath, howling sort of crying, on our front porch (attractive I know). So once I got my sh*t together my amazing, caring and loving husband took me downtown and we bought a ridiuckous amount of Christmas decorations and we spent the whole afternoon as well as most of the night setting them up. Needless to say the house looks amazing and I felt much better.

 

 

 

We have made the decision (amidst my blubbering on the front porch) that this cycle we are taking a break from “actively” trying. What this means is we will not be using any OPKs nor will I be noting my symptoms down on Fertility Friend. We will not be “timing” sex and having it because we “have to” regardless of how tired we are. We won’t be preventing at all, but basically this month is going to be all about us rather than trying to make a mini us. I don’t want to end up feeling like sex is a chore for either of us, which is why we are just going to go with the flow and hopefully RELAX!! To be honest, I feel less stressed and far happier already knowing I’m not going to have to track my CM and remember what cycle day I’m on, and what days we “have” to have sex so we don’t miss our “fertile window”. Another reason why we have decided to calm the F down as my Husband would call it, is because I really don’t want to be stressed out about baby making during Christmas and New Years. As you would know if you’ve read my previous blogs, the whole TTC thing tends to absorb us and its all I think about and I don’t want to be wondering whether I’m going to fall pregnant this cycle or not during Christmas day or telling Jamie he can’t drink too much on New Years because it might affect his swimmers. We want to start the New Year completely fresh and be emotionally and physically ready for the infertility journey that is ahead of us.

Next week I plan on going to the Doctor and organising to have my 21 day bloods done (which tests your hormone levels and can determine whether you’re ovulating or not) as well as getting a referral to my gynaecologist. We are planning to start a fertility drug called Femara (letrozole) in January, so we will be receiving fertility treatment in 2014. I honestly never thought that at 21 years old I would be starting fertility treatment just to have a baby, something that most people do naturally. But that is just the way things have to be and being negative about it won’t help anyone. So I am trying my best to have a positive outlook about the whole thing and not focus on the fact that I feel less of a woman because I can’t conceive a baby naturally and have to have fertility treatment at 21 years old, and focus on the fact that this may give us the baby we so desperately want.

 

Thanks for all of your support!

 

Much love & Rainbows,

Kimberly Xoxox

Advice

Now this is going to be a bit of a whingey blog. So feel free to skip reading it. After I posted my last blog, I received a number of comments and messages from people who (im sure mean well) are telling me why I am yet to fall pregnant. Now, I know they are just trying to give advice (and this isn’t aimed at one specific person but also for future reference for those who read these) but I am aware of the fact that being stressed will not help me fall pregnant. I know that I should just relax and not think about it. However, I challenge you all to not think about something that you really want. For example, if you are wanting to buy your first home and you’ve found the perfect one, all you need now is the home loan. I bet you that this will be on your mind at least 60% of the time because its something you really badly want, and I bet you do the figures over and over again while you’re waiting to see if you’re approved for the loan to see what your chances are of getting the loan, even though it will make no difference to the outcome. That’s what the 2WW is like for me. I think about it a lot of the time, I test early because the earlier I know the happier I will be and shockingly, less stressed!!

While PCOS affects 1 in 10 women, so you are bound to know AT LEAST one person that has it, it also affects everyone differently. While the symptoms are similar, no single person will have the exact same experiences/symptoms as the next person with PCOS. This goes the same for fertility and PCOS. Just because you know someone who has fallen pregnant straight away after being told they wouldn’t (like most of us with PCOS are told) doesn’t mean it will happen for the next person with PCOS. I know someone who fell pregnant her first month trying with PCOS and had a very healthy pregnancy and delivered a beautiful little girl. I also know someone else who tried for a very long time and had to go on medication for quite a few cycles to fall pregnant, she also now has a beautiful baby. Two very different cases from women who both have PCOS. We are into our 4^th month trying and I know that this is nothing compared to what a lot of women go through but this is how I am coping with it. In writing these blogs I am sharing my personal experiences with TTC with PCOS and how I deal with it. I am in no way saying “poor me look how hard my life is, feel sorry for me because I have fertility issues” even though it may come across to some of you in that way. If I could just relax and stop testing then I absolutely would, and admittedly I am not normally this bad during my 2WW, I normally only test every couple of days and don’t really worry about it. But the longer it takes, the more frustrated I get and the more I want a baby. I have done so much research into TTC its not funny. I know all the ins and outs of it (mind the pun ;) ) and I know everything that is required to make a baby. Turns out knowledge means nothing when luck is involved, and that is exactly what it comes down to. Luck and chance. This is what frustrates me the most because I have no control over it. I can do absolutely everything by the book, even be relaxed (like I was the first couple months) and it still may not work (as it hasn’t so far).

The reason why I started writing these blogs is because I wanted to share my experience of TTC with PCOS with others. I wanted to do this to help people who are also TTC (with or without PCOS) and to show people that it is not always rose petals and romance when trying to make a baby. I am in no way trying to say that EVERYONE with PCOS struggles to have babies, and I am also not saying that everyone who is trying feels the same way I do. The idea of this is to give me a place to vent and maybe gain support. I know that I will receive negative comments, that is bound to happen and I know there are people out there who will think they know better than I do about my own body and how it works, but please just think before you say anything, think of how it comes across. If you have to reassure someone in a comment that you’re writing, that its not meant to be personal, or “no offense” or anything similar, maybe rethink whether it will help or not and whether it will upset the person you are writing it to.

I really enjoy writing these and took a big leap when I chose to share them with those around me, so please go easy on me. I really am not looking for pity and I am not saying I am the only one going through a hard time with this process, I am just trying to find a way to relieve my stress and to get out what is going through my mind constantly in my 2WW. That is why I write these blogs. Not for anyone else, but for me. If people stop reading them, I will still write them, because so far they are helping.

 

Much Love & Rainbows,

Kimberly

Xoxox

The Dreaded 2 Week Wait

Warning: This blog may be a bit TMI (Too much info) so if you don’t want to read about my cycles then this isn’t the blog for you!

As you guessed from the title, I am currently in my 2 week wait. For those of you who are unsure what this means, the 2 week wait or “2WW” as it is commonly known amongst those TTC (Trying to Conceive), is the time between ovulation, and the next expected period, which is usually anywhere between 12 and 14 days. This part of a woman’s cycle is called the luteal phase. And it is horrible. It consists of symptom spotting, line eye, becoming a POASA for some (Pee on a stick addict as we call it in the ttc world) and intense mood swings. If you have no idea what I am talking about, don’t worry I will get into that, but first I’ll give you a bit of history as to why I am so stressed out in a time where everyone claims to be so relaxed. Now this next bit will be a bit intense (not so much gross, but more so a lot to digest) so please bear with me. This will probably be a long blog so if you don’t have time to read the whole thing you are best to come back later, but I will try and shorten it. I will also add that some of this may come as a surprise to some of you and keep in mind a lot of this I haven’t told many people before (if anyone) and I am still a bit sensitive about parts so please also keep this in mind.

I guess I will start at the beginning. I started dating my now husband, Jamie, just after I had turned 18. I was on the pill when I first met him and had recently had a cycle that was 2 weeks late, but didn’t think anything of it. After about a month of dating Jamie, I noticed I had missed a cycle, so I decided to stop taking the pill until it came. I decided to go to the doctor to make sure nothing was wrong and he told me to come back in a few months if I still didn’t get a period as sometimes engaging in an “actively sexual relationship” can throw things off (for those of you who are wondering, yes Jamie was my official “first”. Cue girly teenage giggles). In January I indeed went back to see the doctor who did yet another pregnancy test, when it came back negative, he informed me that there was definitely something wrong and gave me a referral to a gynaecologist in Toowoomba. I did a bit of research before going to see the DR and thought I may have PCOS, but that it seemed highly unlikely considering I only had 1 symptom at the time (irregular or absent periods) and was the complete opposite of overweight (and still am), which is a key PCOS symptom. I went to the gynaecologist in February 2011, where I explained to him I thought I might have PCOS and he said it could be a possibility but that it was unlikely. He asked to do an internal ultrasound (which is on about the same level of comfortable as a pap smear).  Within literally 30 seconds of beginning the ultrasound the Dr looked at me and said “Well your left ovary appears to be polycystic, but maybe its only one” he then moved over to the right ovary which in fact looked worse than the left and he said “Nope, looks like theyre both polycystic, see all the little bubbles, they are all cysts. Normal ovaries don’t have those.” We finished the ultrasound and went back into his office. The first question my mother asked him was “will she be able to have children?” and his response was “It is possible, but highly unlikely it will happen naturally. You will more than likely need to be on medication or IVF, and if you would like children you will really need to get a wriggle on if you want more than one. After you turn 26 years old it will become far more difficult to fall pregnant.” He then reassured me that maybe I just had Polycystic Ovaries and not the syndrome, as there is a difference. I got a blood test done which indeed confirmed that I have PCOS. I then went onto a drug called Provera which is a progesterone based drug used to help kickstart a period and then I went back onto the pill. He also wanted to check for Endometriosis which can also hinder fertility, and the only way he could do that was via Laproscopy (day surgery in where they cut a small incision in the belly button and one along where your underwear sit and place a camera down the hole to have a look around) so in May 2011 I had my first ever surgery. No Endometriosis was found but they did discover I have a tilted uterus and burnt off some nerves due to some pain I was having. But everything else look fine and it was fixed, for now.

Fast forward to July 2012, I decided to come off the pill because we thought it was causing my depression and anxiety (I will explain all about that in another blog). I was lucky enough to get my period 32 days later which is pretty good for me. I continued to have fairly regular cycles (only out by a day or 2) until September 2012 where we decided we would stop preventing having children. We weren’t “trying” but thought we should see what happens. In late October, after 36 days and no period I decided to do an at home pregnancy test in the afternoon. I left it on the counter and completely forgot I had taken it until Jamie had come home. We were in the middle of an argument (which funnily enough was caused by my hormones) and I yelled to him that I was packing my sh*t and going to stay with Mum. He yelled back “yeah righto, there’s two lines on this stick on the sink by the way”. I replied with “Whatever you d*ckhead” (I can see you thinking, what a wonderful term of endearment, who wouldn't want to be with her!) as I thought he was kidding, then I walked into the bathroom and in fact saw 2 pink lines. I immediately freaked out, raced down to the store and bought 3 more tests. I took one that night which also came out positive and 2 more the next morning (different brands to be sure) and sure enough they were both positive too. I was pregnant, or so we thought. Granted, the lines were faint but very clearly visible on all tests. I called Mum and told her I thought I was pregnant and she said to leave it a few days and test again and it should be darker. So that’s what I did. I left it for 3 days and tested again, except this time there was no second line. I was so confused. Still no period but negative test after 4 positives? I did a lot of research and discovered something called a “Chemical Pregnancy” in whereby, the egg is fertilised, implants, produces HCG (which is what shows a second line on a pregnancy test) but doesn’t grow. Basically a very early miscarriage. But I’m not bleeding so I haven’t miscarried? Well on day 42 my period started, and I was very upset, but relieved at the same time that at least I was getting a period. We went on with our lives and continued the whole not preventing idea. In December 2012 (the week before Christmas), I decided to test around day 38 after not getting my period. I knew this time that it was better to use FMU (First Morning Urine) as the HCG is stronger in the morning. Sure enough 2 pink little lines came up. I was once again pregnant, and beyond excited! The next day I did another test, which was also positive. Again very faint lines. I decided to leave it a few days and would test on Christmas morning. Christmas morning came and I could barely sleep the night before, I was so excited to test. But you guessed it, BFN (Big Fat Negative). I was pretty upset but had a little bit of hope that maybe the test was faulty. Later on that day I said to Jamie I thought I’d noticed the tiniest amount of spotting when I wiped. He said not to worry about “Since when do you spot before your period” (yes I have a very good listener for a husband and apparently one that remembers what my cycles are like). Boxing Day morning I woke up with cramping but didn’t think anything of it. I was so excited to do another test and WARNING WAY TMI, as I held the cup in my urine stream I felt a gush, I looked down and noticed blood and dropped the cup straight into the toilet, I was so shocked. I got up, took the cup out of the toilet and put it in the bin, put a pad on and burst into tears. I went and told Jamie and then laid in bed. He came and cuddled me as I sobbed for the next 2 hours or so. Even while typing this I am still emotional, no one really understands how hard it is to miscarry, even when it is so early on. We decided to go to the doctor on 1^st January to find out if maybe I just had multiple faulty tests and never was pregnant. We went in and told him what happened and he said I could still be pregnant regardless of my period and did an ultrasound, but there was nothing. He agreed that it was more than likely I had experienced 2 very early miscarriages or “Chemical Pregnancies”. Needless to say I was absolutely devastated, but wanted to properly try for kids more than ever. So I went onto ebay and ordered a whole bunch of OPKs (ovulation predictor kits). I started doing those in January and finally got a positive on around day 21, turns out previously having chemical pregnancies mucks about with your cycle. I was so excited and told Jamie when he came home that we HAD to have sex right now and try for a baby because I was ovulating. Well he refused (the trying part, not the sex part, typical bloke) because he wanted to get married first. I was beyond furious. We ended up having a huge argument, and if you read my intro, this is where he tells me he was planning to propose on Valentines Day. Anyway, we agreed no more trying until after we get married. Well luckily, because I never got a normal period again after that. About 2 weeks later I had a very very light period for about a week and then 22 days after that I was spotting for a few days and then they stopped all together.

So in June this year (2013) we went to see a new gynaecologist who did some blood tests and put me on provera again. My blood tests actually came back to show that my hormone levels were really good and only slightly elevated so my PCOS was really only very mild and had toned itself down quite a bit, which was really shocking. I took the provera in June and July, and decided not to take it in August as we agreed to start trying for our first baby. I was so excited when Jamie agreed, I honestly thought it would happen right away. I thought wrong. I didn’t get a period in August, or September like I thought I would (I was hoping the Provera may have jump started everything) and I definitely wasn’t pregnant. We were married on the 21^st September and went on our honeymoon on 7^th October and guess what, I got my period the very next day. Yep 2 days into our honeymoon I got my period. I was thrilled to be having a period on my own! Jamie wasn’t so much. That was when we realised that the Chemical pregnancies and the stress of planning the wedding was more than I thought, I didn’t feel overly stressed but apparently I was. So that brings us to November. I was 110% sure I was pregnant. I had ALL the symptoms. Exhaustion, nausea, metallic taste, and this was the clencher and how I “knew” I was pregnant, extremely sore breasts!! I had only ever experienced sore breasts before a period once before while I was on Provera, but apparently that was a side effect of the medication. So I started testing like a crazy person (this is where I refer to being a POASA), once every day from 10dpo (10 days past ovulation) which is apparently the soonest you can expect a positive. I quickly developed line eye (where you are sure you can see a second line but no one else can) and was sure there was the faintest of faint lines on my internet cheapy tests. After 32 days since my last period, I woke up and thought, I might put a pad on just in case. I went to work that morning (a Saturday) and thought nothing more of it. I kept complaining to my sister in law that I was really crampy which was weird because I didn’t have my period. We closed up shop at lunch time (the usual for a Saturday) and as I was driving home I thought, “Sh*t these cramps are really starting to hurt, how weird.” I got home and said to Jamie, I have the weirdest cramps, feels like I have my period. He gave me a typical bloke answer “Well go check” so I did and yep, there AF was (Aunt Flo or AF is what we use to describe a period in a nicer way, could have used that earlier, woops). I was so excited that AF was here on time, as it was exactly 2 weeks since ovulation, but of course disappointed I wasn’t pregnant. However, I was glad to know that sore boobs meant AF coming not pregnancy, so at least I’ll know when its coming next time. That will help me keep sane next month, I thought. Oh how wrong was I.

So all of that brings me to now. I am currently in my 2 week wait and it is absolutely 100% the hardest 2 week wait I have had so far. I am so miserable. I ovulated on day 18, we are now on day 26/8dpo and guess what, I have very sore boobs. I HATE that I get sore boobs before my period now. At least when my period showed up last month I was able to be hopeful the whole time until it showed up and then only have that day to be a bit sad about it. This month I have a WHOLE WEEK to be miserable. The feeling of not being pregnant after 4 months is hard to explain to those who aren’t TTC, everyone always says “Oh its fine it will happen eventually, normal couples take up to a year.” Yeah NORMAL couples, how about those of us with PCOS?! Admittedly, I have started testing already, I started at 6dpo because I read somewhere that someone got a positive at 6dpo so maybe I could too. I already have serious line eye, I’m tilting the tests in the light to see a line that most likely isn’t there. However, I am not symptom spotting this month, as I am pretty sure I’m out (an expression used to say AF is coming, pregnancy is highly unlikely). I know it has only been 4 months and some couples take years but sh*t I don’t want to be one of those couples. I want to be pregnant NOW!!! I am seriously struggling emotionally and just want AF to hurry up so I can stop feeling sorry for myself and try again. I know, I know, it will happen when it happens. “The more you stress, the less likely it is to happen.” Logically this is true, but it is so hard to be relaxed about something you want so badly. The amount of disappointment and defeat you feel when you yet again get another BFN when you know you are doing EVERYTHING right to get pregnant is incomprehensible for those who aren’t trying. AF is due this weekend, and Hubby will be away, and I honestly don’t know how I will cope if I’m really not pregnant. We have agreed to go to the doctor next month and have a referral for the gynaecologist and request to go on Femara, which is an ovulation inducing fertility drug commonly used for women with PCOS. The side effects are minimal (or so ive been told) and it greatly increases our chances of conceiving. We are hoping to start that in January.

Unfortunately this is the reality of Trying to Conceive. It isn't all exciting and spontaneous sex like everyone thinks it is and it doesn't always happen straight away. Turns out even when a man loves a woman and they make the decision to make a baby, you don't just have sex and wullah! Instantly pregnant, like they taught us at school. It is a very trying and emotional time, well at least it is for me.

So that is where I am at. So sorry for the novel today but I don’t think anyone will come close to understanding the struggle I am dealing with now unless they know what I’ve been through. If you made it the whole way through reading this, you deserve a medal and you might know a lot more about me than you did before. Hopefully this will help you if you are currently also going through the process of baby making. Feel free to ask me questions, I am now clearly an open book so ask away!

Until my next blog,

Much Love & Rainbows,

Kimberly

Xoxox

A "Kimmy Day".

3^rd December 2013

Oh hey! How are you? Good you say? That’s fantastic. How am I you ask? I have had a F***ing sh*thouse day!!! I can see you going, oh this looks like its going to be depressing to read..well you’re probably right! Not really, its more of just one of those stress relief blogs, you know something you’d write in your diary at the end of the day to get it off your chest. So please feel free to skip reading this blog.

 Today was definitely a “Kimmy Day” (see my previous blog titled “Kimmy Moments” to understand this expression). I have had barely any sleep due to acid reflux, I’m tired, cranky and just over it. But, I did attempt to be positive today and be happy. So what better way to do that than to bake. I absolutely LOVE baking. Its one of my passions and I don’t think I’m completely useless at it. I baked mixed berry muffins, which I intended on icing with homemade cream cheese frosting. Sounds delicious? Well I bet they would have been if while they were cooling, the blow flies didn’t decide to crawl all over them!!! I literally cried, and then threw them all in the bin. So then I had a massive mess to clean up in the kitchen with no reward!!! On top of this I managed to have a disagreement with a former friend (long story), which was stressful. It was just all around an emotional day and the past few days have been the same due to the fact I’m in my “2 week wait” or “2WW” as us TTC’ers  (people trying to conceive) call it, but I will get to that in another blog.

Anyway, so I bought my Husband and I new bean bags for Christmas (they were supposed to be a surprise until Christmas but I am so useless at keeping anything a secret from Jamie) so we decided to fill them with the beans. We got through that fairly easily, apart from spilling a lot on the floor. So I decided to test it out. For those of you who haven’t been in our house, we have an open plan kitchen/lounge/dining room. We had the bean bag sitting next to the kitchen bench in between the lounge and kitchen. I was laying on it and saying how cool it is and Hubby said “here I’ll help you up and we can fill the other one.” Sounds harmless right? Wrong! Jamie gave me his hand, and as usual proceeded to reef me up with all his strength, neither of us realising how close the corner of the kitchen bench was, until my very boney hip came into contact with it in full force. I collapsed onto the bean bag and immediately burst into tears (yep, at 21 I am still a sook). Jamie came out with his usual response when he accidentally is the cause of my pain which goes something like “Sh*t, sorry. Ice?”. So I layed there with a lunchbox brick on my hip (yes because a brick of ice is going to mould around my hip? Nice choice honey, you are such a bloke) while Jamie stroked my hair and said something along the lines of “You really are having a shit time aren’t you.” Which made me cry even more. I had been on the brink of crying all day but told myself to keep it together, I guess this was the world’s way of saying, “Dude, just cry. You will feel better, and if you don’t want to cry on your own, I’ll make you cry.” Well it worked! I still felt pretty crappy (and very very sore) but its amazing what a big teary can do.

Sorry this is a bit of a pathetic blog, but this is the reality of my life and it is certainly not all fun and games. Everyone has “those days”, but while you are having one, you feel like the only person in the entire world that is having a day where things arent going how they should be and it feels like the end of the world. Granted, a lot of the way I was feeling was because of the whole baby making thing (see my next blog) and I normally shrug days like this off. But I’m glad I didn’t. Because this is what made me want to start writing blogs. You can either feel grateful for that, my wonderful blog readers, or incredibly annoyed at seeing my links to my blogs posted on my Facebook page every day. Take it or leave it. I will write them regardless of whether people read them or not. Why? Because this is the one thing I am doing just for me, nobody else.

 

Until my next blog,

Much love & Rainbows,

Kimberly

Xoxox

Typical Kimmy Moments

Well that escalated quickly…This was going to be one of those stress release blogs, (I may write a few of these so beware) however I expanded way too much on the following so I thought I’d better do this as a separate blog. So this one will tie in with my next one when I refer to my rough day or a basic “Kimmy Day”, as my family would call it. Yep, my family name things after me. You might be thinking “oh that’s so sweet.” Uh-uh. Nope. There is an expression in my family called “doing a Kimmy” whereby, if you do something stupid or ditzy, or you forget to do something, you’re doing a Kimmy or even if you say something stupid its also classed as doing a Kimmy. I usually get at least one call a week from my beautiful mother telling me “I did a Kimmy today, I left my handbag in the shopping trolley and drove away.” This stems from my teenage years, where as a young girl I had never been on a farm and used to refer to mustering as “cattling” (seems like a good fit) and then there was that time where it rained cats and dogs and our newly built dam was filling so we Dad, Scott and I decided to get in it at 10 o’clock at night while Mum supervised. Needless to say it was very cold (even if it was in January) and while walking through the water I said “We better get out, I don’t want to get amnesia.” Turns out I already had amnesia seeing as the word I was searching for was indeed “hypothermia.” Yep that’s a Kimmy. Even still today I am basically useless as tits on a bull. I have quite a few moments throughout my day where I just do flat out stupid things. For instance, I’ll be looking for my phone absolutely everywhere and say to Mum “I’ve gotta go Mum, I can’t find my phone anywhere!” and she will reply with “ahh that’s because you’re talking to me on it you dill.” Yep that’s me in a nutshell, and before you ask, yes I am naturally blonde, but apparently no amount of brown hair dye will change the stereotype that fits me so well. This brings me to what a  “Kimmy Day” is. The reason why it is called this is because I have incredibly bad luck and always have. Not to the point where I’m homeless or anything ridiculous like that, I just seem to have a lot go wrong, so a typical Kimmy day is where I try my best to be positive and no matter how hard I try, stupid little things go wrong. Here are just a few occasions where you will think “yep that would only happen to Kimmy.”   For instance, I used to run our local Animal Rescue organisation and I was a foster carer. We saved and rehomed A LOT of animals.” Here are two of my more memorable moments fostering animals..First, I fostered a pregnant cat that came from a workers camp from down the road that was formerly abused by workers at said camp and also (we suspect) by previous owners, as it seems her tail has been cut off half way. Anyway, she was due to go into labour any day and quickly the day finally came. I did endless amounts of googling, which reassured me that very rarely did cats have complications during labour. Boy were they wrong! Yep, you guessed it, she required a caesarean, this would cost $750 (money I didn’t exactly have) and being the sook and animal lover I am, I couldn’t put her down. So I worked out a payment plan and she had the caesarean. She had 3 kittens all up, but unfortunately 2 had passed away, but one survived. Jaida stayed at the vets for the weekend and I came to pick her up on Sunday afternoon. We had her in a cardboard box, and as the vet was carrying her out to the car she decided to jump out and run into the bushes, leaving her 2 day old kitten to fend for herself. After half an hour of yelling out “here kitty kitty”, the vet went and got her kelpie to chase her out of the waist high grass, which was successful. Until she got a fright, as I grabbed her she bit me on the hand as hard as she could. Needless to say a hospital visit was required and I still have a scar on my hand that looks like a snake bite. Some grateful cat hey! Funnily enough, we have now adopted her (she is a beautiful cat, but apparently doesn’t like being chased by dogs, well not that dog anyway). So that’s the first scenario. The second is where the pound man (whom I worked with in rescuing animals, luckily for the town he is a huge animal lover too) decided to drop off a litter of 5 kittens that were abandoned by their mother at only 3 weeks old, which meant they needed to be bottle fed every 4 hours and stimulated to go to the toilet (talk about dedication!). He knew I would be happy to help the poor little things, they were all so loving and so tiny, how could I say no? But they came absolutely riddled with fleas and worms, so we bathed them and wormed them and they were all doing wonderfully and we were lucky enough that none of them passed away. After about 2-3 weeks, I noticed some scabs on one of the kittens bellies, and thought it must be a reaction to the fleas (yep the fleas were THAT bad) and even asked the vets what they thought and they warned me that it may be ringworm but just see how it goes. Well what do you know, about 2-3 days later I get a ring on my shoulder, and another on my arm. So I went to the chemist and got some cream and started applying it, and found out that the kittens couldn’t have any treatment as they were far too young. We had to wait 2 weeks and order in some special tablets for them. Funnily enough, ringworm is highly contagious, and not much kills it either, other than a bucket load of Glen 20 and some very hot mop water with Ajax floor cleaner, but until you treat everyone who has it, it will keep cycling. All in all I ended up with 32 ring worms on me. Now before you get extremely disgusted if you don’t know what a ringworm is, I will explain. Ringworms are not worms at all, in fact they are a fungal infection of the skin, very similar to tinea (which is also known as Athletes foot). They present themselves as ring shaped sores on the body, and they are F***ing itchy!!! The beauty of ringworm is that if you scratch one and then touch another part of your body or somebody else, the ringworm will transfer (something I didn’t learn until I was up to about 20 of the bloody things). So finally after a few weeks of treatment (and of hubby having them also, just not as bad) the ringworm was gone. Or so we thought. Turns out animals are carriers of ringworm even after they have been treated. They wont get it again themselves, but can pass it onto other animals and of course humans. We rehomed all of the kittens not knowing this. One to my brother & his pregnant fiancé at the time (who also took Jaida’s miracle kitten), one to our good friends and one to my Husband’s sister. The rest found loving homes with people we didn’t know as closely. Yes, they all got ringworm too, nowhere near as severely as I did, but they all got at least 1 or 2. After that, we decided we could no longer foster animals (also due to a few other reasons, the main one being I had spent over $5000 on rescuing and rehoming animals and just simply couldn’t afford it anymore and no one was willing to foster or help out with costs). So they are a few Kimmy Moments. My next blog will have what is know as a typical “Kimmy Day” so stay tuned for that!

 

Until then,

Much Love & Rainbows,

Kimberly

Xoxox

Introduction!

Okay so I wasn't sure how much I should include in this intro. Maybe I should keep it short and sweet, because really no one wants to read a novel on my life. I think I'll stick with short and sweet and then you can read all about particular parts in my life that you are interested in and skip the ones you aren't. Sound alright? Good, I'm glad you agree.

My name is Kimberly, I am 21 years old and I live in rural Queensland, Australia. I moved here from Central Queensland when I was 13years old, or more like I was dragged here. I wasn't too keen on moving as I had grown up in the one spot, I was lucky. We lived on 2 acres on the edge of town and while I didnt think it was the most fabulous place to live, it was what I knew and moving meant change, I didn't like change (and still dont, funnily enough). However, my father always dreamt of being a farmer. When my parents broke the news that they were selling the house and we would be moving somewhere else, my brother and I were less than impressed. A few tantrums may have been thrown, turns out you can still chuck a pretty big tantrum when you're a 16 year old boy in love (yes I am talking about my brother, I can see a lot of you thinking I'd suddenly had a sex change and aged quite quickly, sorry to disappoint). Anyway, so my Great Aunt and Uncle had just recently moved to a (what was) small quiet town about 4 hours west of Brisbane, and my Father wanted to go visit and check out the real estate there after hearing wonderful things. "Don't worry, we won't be moving there." my mother reassured me, as it was 7 hours from where we were currently living and an extra 2 hours away from my grandparents (whom I adored and still do). Well wasn't my mother wrong! So we went on a little vacation to this small town and looked at some real estate while we were there. The real estate agent took us to quite a few different properties, but none suited what my parents were looking for. The house was too small, not enough land, overpriced etc. Then all of a sudden, the real estate agent remembers a place that just recently came on the market that was just 20km out of town, so he took us there and yep you guessed it, my parents fell in love with the place. Granted the house needed a lot of work, a dam and fences needed to be built but all in all it was a nice place on 600acres at a decent price, and more importantly, it was in my parents price range. They made an offer, contracts were signed and my parents hauled my brother and I to our new home on 10th January 2006, and luckily they did because little did I know that some 4 1/2 years down the track I would meet the love of my life and my future husband.

This is where Jamie comes in. I always knew who Jamie was, through people at school etc but had never met him, until September 2010. We met through mutual friends at a party and instantly hit it off. After a few Facebook messages were exchanged, he asked for my number. I told him that if he really wanted it, he would find it, which he did. We texted for a few weeks and agreed to meet up for a date for my 18th birthday, but unfortunately this fell through and I spent the night helping my brother (or watching and laughing histerically as he gagged) unclog our septic (ahh the joys of living on a farm!). So we rescheduled for the following Friday. We met up at our local RSL (at which I used to bar tend) and had drinks together with friends, it was a great first date (mind you it was the first "real date" I had ever been on so maybe it wasnt that amazing? I'm kidding darling it was amazing) and we started "going out" the next day. We dated for 2 and a half years, the latter year I spent nagging him to either propose or make me a mother. Finally on Valentines Day, Jamie got down on one knee at a restaurant and proposed, and yes I was totally shocked even though he told me during an argument a month before-hand that this was his plan, but I figured considering he'd told me, he wasn't going to go ahead with it, I was so wrong. We decided to have a short engagement (only just over 7months), as our best friends were getting married in August, and our other good friends, in October. We chose 21st September 2013 as our wedding date, 2 days before my 21st birthday, and I'm so glad we did, I could not handle the stress of waiting for my wedding day for a whole year like we had originally planned. Unfortunately, weddings bring out people's true colours, and not all of them are the colours of the rainbow. We had a few family members make things difficult for us, but that is a story for another day (maybe, if my hubby agrees for me to share that on the internet). All in all, we had a wonderful Wedding day (even if I did freeze halfway down the aisle and Jamie had to come and rescue me, proving that he really is my prince charming) and it was everything I had ever dreamed of (except for the freezing part, obviously). I was lucky enough to have my hero walk me down the aisle, my wonderful Dad (whom everyone says I am a mini me of) and my beautiful mother keeping me calm as well as my wonderful (and very understanding) bridesmaids. And my awesome brother as one of the groomsmen (who managed to shed a tear or two even if he claims to have no feelings, sorry bro, everyone saw it). I am also very blessed to have had all of my Grandparents there on the day, and in good health. Speaking of blessed, I can't forget Lee, our minister. He is AWESOME! We literally wouldn't be married without him, but he deserves his own write up so that will be coming soon.

Anyway, all of that leads us to here. We are currently trying to conceive our first baby! Wow that's really exciting you say? You have no idea. Keep an eye out for my next blog post and I will go into detail about my PCOS and where we are at with our TTC journey.

Until then,
Much Love & Rainbows,
Kimberly
Xoxo

See now that wasn't a novel..more of a short story (;