The Bitch is Back!

or more appropriately titled:

Why the road to hell really is paved with good intentions.

So my dear friends it has been a while hasn't it? I do apologize for the lengthy absence. Things have been interesting (read: effing nuts) around here in bitter land. Let's just jump right in shall we?

About 5 months ago I decided that it would be a good idea (do you see where this is going?) to wean myself off of zoloft. My intentions were for the best, I didn't want to be on it when we finally got pregnant. I wanted to be as natural as I could be etc. My heart was in the right place and for several months my body seemed to agree.

Let's jump to January, when all of a sudden several things happened in rapid succession. A promotion we were counting on heavily for career advancement aka (huge raise with tons of benefits) falls through. Baby dreams start falling apart, cause I don't know if you are aware, but this infertility shit aint no joke financially.

I find out my dad who is one of the most healthy people I know, has to have a procedure done on his heart, cue me freaking out.

Then one day I wake up to red whelps on my right side. 48 hours later I have whelps on my right side, left side, up and down my spine, my neck, around my hips and breasts, and starting on my face and OMG the ITCHING people!! I make an emergency appointment with the Dermatologist, and after 50 questions "have you changed detergent?" "have you bought any new clothing?" and answering no to everything they asked, it was determined that I had a full on flare of hives all over my body and severe dry skin. BTW, this was after I had to tell the 3 doctors crowded around me examining and touching all the whelps, all about our infertility, because they had to know if there was ANY way I could be pregnant and "when did you ovulate?" and omg make it stop!
::deep breath::
No, I responded, we have severe infertility issues, my husband has azoospermia/I do not ovulate properly etc.
I'll give you 3 guesses what the head doctor told me.
I bet you only needed one guess... With a smile on her face she so graciously bestowed upon me the famous "Miracles Happen!" line followed by a story of someone she knew who's husband had azoo and they got pregnant because he had 1 sperm.

So, I graciously bestowed upon her the fact that it wouldn't matter if he had 16 million because he's still missing the tubes to get them to where they need to go, but thanks for ruining my day, I bet you got three kids at home, all accidents.
Ok, ok so I didn't really say that last part, at least not out loud.

Well, this is starting to look like a small novel so I think I should probably break it into 2 parts.

Stay tuned for Part 2: The day the shit hit the fan, and the recovery that followed.