Babe, do you want me to help???

  

     This is a question I never thought that I would have to ask my husband.  Not when it came to us getting pregnant anyway....

Oh what a journey it was; trying to start a family... tests, turkey basters, adoptions falling through, and countless broken hearts!



     I remember the morning like it was yesterday.  It was "the day"!  The sun was shining, the birds were singing and I was OVULATING!!!  It was our  first try at artificial insemination and my sweet husband (oh he is going to kill me for this one!) had to "do his part".  I'm sure a lot of men would love having to do this, but not my modest man...he wont even say words like "fart, diarrhea, or gas" so for him "collecting sperm" was not at the top of his to do list that day!  I offered to help, but it was either out of embarrassment, or the fact that he got to act like a teenager again (tmi?) that he hung his head and went into the other room to do his business by himself.  I wont go into much more detail here, but lets just say he darted out the door with a glass jar full of his little swimmers, in a triple wrapped paper bag with masking tape locking it shut, tucked under his armpit to keep them warm.  I'm not sure if all the extra wrapping was out of embarrassment or because he thought they might try to escape?  Anyway...

  

     Apparently, the embarrassment only got worse when he entered the lab and was greeted by a very attractive lab tech, who asked if she could help him.  According to him, he said no thanks, and sat down to wait around for a slightly homelier tech that he wouldn't mind handing the glass jar of his goods to!  Oh how I would have liked to have been there for that one!

  

     I ceased to feel sorry for him though when a couple hours later it was my turn.  I guess in the lab, they do some fancy schmancy separating of the sperm and get the good ones...the nurse was especially excited about the one with the 2 tails or something crazy like that!  She was pretty sure, as I laid there spread eagle with a turkey baster up my Hoo Hoo that that one was going to be the one make it to the prize!  Guess she was wrong...



     After 3 tries, I had had enough.  Every month before and after the Dr. trying to "help", it was the same thing.  I'd start "my special girl time" (thats what we call it around here) the tears would break loose, and my heart would do the same.  I would cry to God, or more accurately, to my shame yell at him at the total unfairness that a 16 year old drug user could conceive, but me this perfect person (um ya right) could not!  Honestly, there were a good many times, I am surprised lightening didn't blast down onto my head as I sat there on my toilet cursing God!  Oh man how I wish I didn't have to admit to this!



     My journey is one that I could tell an entirely too long of a story about, this is just a tiny fraction of it, and if you have been there, you know words could never fully capture the true struggle.



     I am more excited to tell you about the two children that we did end up with through adoption.  Their stories are ones of miracles and blessings, pain and tears.  I will tell them as best as I can someday...but today I just wanted to throw this part out there to all of you who have struggled with infertility, or do currently.  It is hard. One of the hardest things I have ever been through.  I will not be giving advice, or trying to make it all better; I don't think thats even possible.  I just want you all to know that there are a bunch of us out there and we need each other.  I wish that I could have had someone who truly understood what I was going through!  If you know someone on this journey, just listen.  Don't try to give great advice...it doesn't work.  If you are going through it, I send you a hug that would maybe be tight enough to squeeze out a bit of your hurt!



We would love for you to share us with anyone you think needs a good dose of mommy reality!  Thanks for your support!



We are excited to announce that we will now gift wrap and direct ship your Earth Monkey treasures to your favorite mama to be (or mama is)!!!  To celebrate, this week we are offering free gift wrapping!!!  One week only, so don't wait!

 "Autism is our forth child" has been our mantra since our third son Crew was born. With two special needs kids we knew the dream of having 4 kids would have to die as we poured our life, love and energy into therapy for Sawyer and Thatcher and learn how to live with three very high maintenance boys. But now that they are getting older and doing phenomenally well... that sneaky little yearning for another baby has popped up and slapped me across the face.



Some of you probably know (because I plastered it all over facebook) that I got pregnant this past September. It was an accident, but I was so incredibly excited. Family and friends who heard the news... not so much. They knew my plate was full, and I think some were even a little frustrated with us for being "irresponsible". I didn't care though, even knowing how miserable my pregnancies are, knowing that bed rest and big blistery grossness could take over my body at any time (seriously that's how bad my pregnancies are) knowing I was prolonging the years of lack of sleep and sure to pack on another 60 pounds (cause that's how I roll) I was still so excited.  I had geared up for the crazy and was ready for another big eyed, chubby poop factory!! I lost the pregnancy in October and while I had to pretend to be fine and relieved (because it really wasn't an ideal situation), I was pretty heartbroken. It wasn't my first miscarriage, and the last one was a lot farther along and about 100 x's more complicated... so I felt like I had to just shrug it off... we'd been though this before, it was no big deal... only it kind of was to me.



Since then I haven't been able to shake the baby bug. I was ooing and ahhing over something cute and baby the other day and Gena said, "Shut-up, I'm going to punch you in the face." I should share Gena is smack dab in the middle of terrible two's with her little guys and has absolutely no desire for another one at this point. AND she's right ... she knows first hand the drama and all out pandemonium that goes on around here!! Anyway, everywhere I turn I see cute baby clothes... or someone is about to pop pregnant and I feel a tinge of jealousy...



A lot of you may be screaming at your computer right now wanting to remind me of past posts talking about the craziness and mayhem of my life and not even being able to go to the bathroom by myself. It's weird, even as I type my kids are going nuts and fighting and hitting... and I still want another one. My mom said she wanted another baby another my older sister got pregnant the first time, I don't know if I can't wait that long for these feelings to go away.

from joyfolie.com

The bottom line is, my husband doesn't even remotely feel the same way... so I'm pretty sure there is no hope of owning these spectacular little girl's boots. (you can stop hyperventilating now mom:) 





I'm just wondering why I feel this way and when these feeling will go away. Am I just being stubborn like usual and want one because no one in the world thinks I should continue to procreate??? Do I just really love little girls clothing and want to play dress up??? Or would a fourth child really complete our little family???



Are you done having kids??? If so how did you know AND if you are done do you ever question your decision... mama needs help.. or there may be a fourth baby picture to add to this set...