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The Long Wait

November 22, 2019

Hello, guys. Long time no see! What a crazy time it’s been.

I’m committed to writing about my journey, but since it’s been too long, let’s skip to the end of the story: it worked. I’ve been a mother for the last nearly-thirteen months, and it’s…

Jaina Esme Sanchez

Jaina Esme Sanchez – Dare you not to smile when she smiles.

For now, I’d like to take an interlude to talk about infertility. About waiting. About hoping. And about all the tests that came up negative before I finally got my big fat positive.

Going into this journey, I was ambivalent about the endgame. I thought motherhood was probably something I wanted. Clearly, I wanted it enough that I’d taken all the steps and started to put some serious money down. I balk and having to spend $60 for a pair of shoes. What the hell was I doing shelling out thousands to try to create a human being if I wasn’t sure?

My desire to have a baby was never a given. I thought I wanted it, but it was never the end all, be all of my life. I never daydreamed of motherhood. I never longed for it. I never ached when I passed a stroller or the baby section in any store. I could easily picture my life without children. I have ambition and drive—plenty of things to do and accomplish.

I went into the experience with logic and rationality on my side. Now was the time to try; I knew that. I wasn’t getting any younger. Adoption had been my first choice, but that was out of reach at the time. Biology wasn’t always going to be an option so it was time to start.

I knew the odds. There is a relatively small fertile window in every reproductive cycle. At best, there’s a thirty percent chance of pregnancy each month if egg and sperm were introduced on the right dates. My first few tries were natural cycle. After that, even with medical assistance, the odds were still less than fifty/fifty. I was committed to trying more than once, but I knew I couldn’t try forever. I’m not a woman of means. I live paycheck to paycheck, and I was already using my credit card to fund my journey.

I’ve read countless stories about the journey through infertility. I’ve read about the emotional turmoil, the despair. That, I thought, would never be me. I knew the numbers and, if it never happened, I would be okay with that. It wasn’t going to hurt. Except for the battering to my wallet, the journey of trying to get pregnant wasn’t going to hurt.

At first, the whole process was matter-of-fact. I went to my appointments. I reported my cycle dutifully. I took the trigger shot. I was curious during the two week wait before I was supposed to test, but I wasn’t overly hopeful or eager.

I was sitting in the hospital, writing the blog post explaining how I chose the Cryobank where I purchased the sperm that eventually became my daughter when I realized how damn tired I was. It was the morning of my third attempt. I’d dropped off the tank of sperm and was waiting for my insemination. I’d finished but posting seemed like too much.

When had my shoulders begun to slump? When had this sadness become a part of me? When had honest curiosity become trepidation, waiting for this try to become another failure?

When had my empty arms begun to feel so heavy with loss and want?

Back then, I found I couldn’t continue telling my story—not until I knew how it ended. While I was still trying, I couldn’t deal with the idea of talking about the preparation, the steps, the cycles while wondering if all of it was for nothing. Was my final blog post going to talk about bitter loss—letting go of all the things my life could have been to embrace a childless existence? Or would my journey end with a new beginning?

The answer to that question is almost thirteen months old.

I’m ready to tell the rest of my story. I’m ready…but fair warning. I can’t write the way I used to. My hands are usually too busy.

Dear Baby,

Somebody once told me that they truly believed people only had the children that were meant for them. The ones that suited them perfectly. I told her I thought that was ridiculous as someone who wanted to be a parent would enjoy any child they had. But now, while I still know I’m right—I would have loved the children you aren’t as much as I love you—I understand what she meant.

I think sometimes about the babies that didn’t spark. I think about the DNA written into each and every sperm and egg that washed away, the possibilities that never were. Who would they have been? What would they be like?

And then, I think of you. I think of the four eggs I started with that cycle, and I can’t be anything but glad you were the one who took hold. You’re perfect. All the things that make up the person that is you are just right, and I couldn’t imagine anything else, anyone else.

As you grow, you continue to show me more of who you are, and I couldn’t be more enthralled.

I ask you sometimes why you chose me when you were just a spark. I love you, Jaina.

Go back to: Episode 4 – It Takes A Village

So, Hi?

June 26, 2018

Long time no see, friends, neighbors, random-blog passers-by.

So. Not going to lie—2017 was a bad year for me. It was a bad year for a lot of people and for my whole country, but personally? Yeah, it was an all around suck fest.

I’ve had the next post in my series, Turkey Basting, queued for well over a year and a half—probably closer to two at this point. I remember writing it. I’d dropped off the tank that stored my donor’s sperm, and I was sitting in the hospital’s cafeteria, waiting for my insemination appointment. I think it was my third attempt.

I was beginning to really come to terms with the fact motherhood might not happen for me. Logically, I always knew this, and I was mostly sanguine with it. I’m a woman of limited means, and I knew I couldn’t try forever. I’ve always prized myself on being a realist. I haven’t ever pinned my every hope and dream on being a mother—in fact, there are many things I want more than motherhood—but I was surprised at just how draining the cycle of overcoming infertility was on my psyche.

On top of coming to terms with that, 2017 held a lot of change for me. A lot of upheaval. I’m a homeowner now. It wasn’t my first choice, as my financial situation was already tight where I was and got exponentially tighter with a mortgage. The situations that led to the change were fraught with varying levels of bad juju.

In other words, fun to be had on all fronts—emotional, economical, etc.

I’m happy to report that 2018 is, in so many ways, treating me better. I finished another book. It’s with an editor for first round edits, so you’ll be hearing about it soon. My other books will be put on sale in the next few days.

Oh, and I’m currently five months pregnant. My alien unit with two healthy X chromosomes is due in late October. I’ll save that story for my Turkey Basting adventures, though.

See you guys really soon.

Spaces Between Notes is Live!

October 27, 2016

ebookcoversbnbyks2Spaces Between Notes is live and available for purchase on Amazon. Pick up your copy today.

Spaces Between Notes on Amazon.

Read what others are saying about Spaces Between Notes on GooodReads.

Also, to celebrate my new book, remember that my other three books are available for free through tomorrow.

Finding Purgatory on Amazon

Duplicity on Amazon

One to Tell the Grandkids on Amazon

 

Buy One, Get Three Free!

October 24, 2016

Actually, you don’t have to buy anything to get free books.To celebrate my new book, my three previous books are available absolutely free for the next five days.

Check out my books, Duplicity, One to Tell the Grandkids, and Finding Purgatory free here on Amazon.

Pre-order Spaces Between Notes here.

Spaces Between Notes Release Date and Pre-Order Link

October 21, 2016

My fourth book, Spaces Between Notes, finally has a release date. Pre-Order Spaces Between Notes here, and it will be delivered to your Kindle on 10/27.

On release day, my other three books, Duplicity, One to Tell The Grandkids, and Finding Purgatory, will be available at discounted rates.

You can read reviews for Spaces Between Notes on Goodreads.

Spaces Between Notes Cover Reveal and ARC Request

October 3, 2016

First, if you’re interested in an ARC (advanced reader’s copy) in exchange for an honest review, fill out the Spaces Between Notes ARC request form here.

Now, my gorgeous cover. Are you ready? Mina is a true artist.

ebookcoversbnbyks2

More news including release information will be up soon. I’m so excited for this.Please fill out the form if you’re interested in an advance copy.

Book News

October 2, 2016

It’s that time again. I’m getting ready to release my fourth book. This book will be called Spaces Between Notes. I’ll be doing the cover reveal later today (or tomorrow for those of us on the West coast) along with an ARC sign up.

For now, I’ll leave you with the summary:

Nikolai Amorosa is one of those men’s men. You know the type—allergic to feelings, couldn’t have a heartfelt discussion if he tried, which he never did. Then, he lost his voice, and any chance of communication went out the window.

Unable to speak or otherwise interact with anyone, Niko’s anger was off the charts. It could’ve been worse; he could’ve been in jail. Instead, he found himself doing construction on Carys Harper’s house. Carys talked—a lot—both with her voice and her hands. She was also at the beck and call of her deaf little brother, Benny, which drove Niko nine kinds of crazy. Not that he would’ve said anything, even if he could.

Something else that drove him crazy? Carys was stubborn. She wouldn’t let him wallow.More than that, she seemed to hear all the things he couldn’t say. She understood him like she understood music. She heard what existed in the spaces between notes. She knew that sometimes silence screams the loudest.