15 Minutes

You never know it’s going to be your last day…until it is.  That’s what many people in Hawaii thought when we received an emergency alert that a nuclear ballistic missile was inbound and on its way to annihilate our islands.  We were notified previously, that upon receiving this message, you have 15 minutes to get to a safe place.  15 minutes.  15 fucking minutes.  That’s only enough time for a good shit.  What the fuck are we supposed to do in 15 minutes??  It’s a pretty indescribable feeling when you think you only have 15 minutes left to live.  A thousand emotions and thoughts run through your brain and you either stay calm….or freak the fuck out.

Another huge problem is, we live on an island and there are no real safe places.  We do not have nuclear fallout shelters and barely any homes here have basements.  Basically…we have 15 minutes until we die a horrible death.  Prepare yourselves.  That’s the message we got that morning.

So what the fuck happened?

At approximately 8:05am, Saturday, January 13, 2018:  A routine internal test during a shift change at the Hawaii Emergency Management Agency was initiated.  This employee apparently PUSHED THE WRONG BUTTON.

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A devastating and unfortunate mistake.  At 8:07am:  A warning test is triggered and everyone with a smartphone received this message:


The words “THIS IS NOT A DRILL” was legit the most terrifying thing I have ever read. And immediately, people started reacting.

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Alerts continued over the television and radio.  Panic ensued.

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People quickly jumped on social media, the news stations, the radio…but received no information whatsoever.  We didn’t have a clue as to what the fuck was happening.

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Then the running started.

I heard people were driving like they were racing Vin Diesel in The Fast and the Furious, driving at speeds of 100 miles per hour and barreling through red lights, just to get somewhere safe.  I can imagine some accidents may have been caused.

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Parents had to hold it together and explain to their children what the the hell was happening.

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People at home, like me, barricaded themselves in a bedroom or bathroom.

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Some folks outside even got into sewers.

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Some stayed where they were and prayed.

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And others, like my parents, didn’t really care.  My parents were at a restaurant when the alert sounded.  The restaurant closed down and people left…while my parents just sat there and finished their breakfast.

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While there were police who took to the streets with bullhorns and politicians posting on social media, it actually took 38 minutes for an official false alarm alert to notify the people of Hawaii.

Now I don’t know about you, but 38 minutes is a really long time to be thinking that you could die at any minute.  I thank the cellphone gods that texting and the internet worked while this was all happening.  Because while social media can wreck havoc….in this case…it was a savior.

This was a major wake up call to the state of Hawaii, and how ill prepared we all are in a catastrophic situation.  My emergency kit was literally a plastic bag with bottled water in it.


We would have definitely died.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Costco and Sams Club sold out of their emergency kits, bottled water, and toilet paper.  Mass hysteria = mass toilet paper outage.

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Don’t mistake these gifs as an attempt to make fun of what happened to Hawaii.  This was a terrifyingly real situation and most of us were scared out of our minds.  Many of us communicated with our loved ones and said our last goodbyes.  Parents had to abandon their children at soccer games and dance classes, as there was no time to go back and get them.  We truly believed this could have been our last 15 minutes on Earth and we did as much as we knew how to.  This just goes to show that our emergency system needs to improve and that everyone, not only in Hawaii, but the rest of the United States, needs to be more prepared for situations likes these.  This incident just reinforces the fact that it’s really easy for some asshole to push a button.

As we speak, I have an emergency food supply kit, a 100 gallon water bag, and a crank radio awaiting delivery.  We are going to be more prepared next time, you best believe that.

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Life, as explained by Michael Scott

Christmas is usually my favorite time of the year.  I love holidays and family gatherings and of course, getting presents.  But not this year.  This year was fucking shitty.  Like the, don’t talk to me, don’t touch me type of shitty.  I was miserable the entire time.


My uterus had murdered two more babies and I was literally, dead inside.  With two floating dead embryo babies being flushed out on Christmas day.


As I said in my previous post, meeting with the doctor did not help at all.





I was pissed off, confused, and just over the fucking bullshit.


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I tried to be okay…forced myself to appear “normal” because this was the holiday season.  But I wasn’t okay.  Not in the least.


I thought I was downward spiraling into depression…as I couldn’t feel happiness anymore.  I felt as if a heavy presence was pushing down on my body.


This was the worst Christmas I ever had.



But now it’s the new year.  As as all the new year bullshit goes…it’s time to move forward and look towards a better future.  One that possibly will be childless.  And we are in the process of coming to terms with that.


I continue to research voodoo methods of getting pregnant, using essential oils and touching ancient rocks and all that…but the underlying thought about trying to get pregnant is…


It’s all bullshit.

I’ve drunk pomegranate juice and herbal tea, eaten pineapple, wore crystal beads, purchased golden fertility charms, placed rice under my bed, gotten blessed, did acupuncture, and suffered from resonant healing.  Other than sacrifice the blood of a baby unicorn underneath a full blue moon, I don’t know what else to do.


As of right now, I will be doing nothing.  We’re just going to try and enjoy being a family of three (including our fur-daughter Sophie) and get on with our lives.  The end.



After you have a failed IVF, you do a follow-up appointment with your doctor.  There’s a reason why the IVF world calls this appointment, The WTF Appointment.  First of all, you’re feeling like, what the fuck, why didn’t it work?  We did every fucking thing right, we paid all that fucking money….aaaaand we got nothing.  And then after the doctor responds and goes over your options, you’re like, WHAT. THE. FUCK.

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I had my WTF appointment with my doctor this week.  And believe me, I wanted to rip some heads off.  The doctor laid out my three options:

  1. Use a surrogate. what2Okay, so we’re already at this point then??  Fuck me.  Does anyone want to volunteer to be my surrogate for FREE???  Because I can’t afford to pay you.  No takers??  Yeah, okay, no.
  2. Do a myomectomy. Which is a somewhat major uterine surgery where they slice open your stomach and uterus to remove uterine fibroids.  You must stay in the hospital for several days and you have a long recovery time.  Not to mention, it may cost $10,000 and you will have abdominal pain for awhile.  I currently have two uterine fibroids, but they are small, 2 centimeters large and they are not in my uterine cavity.  They are kind of half embedded in my uterine wall, and half hanging off the outside.  So my doctor doesn’t THINK it’s causing my infertility, but he can’t rule it out either.  Basically, I could do this surgery, but it might be unnecessary.  Plus, a myomectomy can cause scar tissue in the uterus, which could also interfere with implantation and increase the risk of miscarriage.  Uhhh…giphy (2)
  3. Do a two-week, intensive round of antibiotics on my third IVF transfer. During a normal round of IVF, I take about 5 days worth of antibiotics before the transfer day.  With this new protocol, the antibiotics would be more intense and for a longer period of time.  But you might feel sick and nauseous with the stronger antibiotics.  The doctor says around 50% of women have bacteria in their uterus which could inhibit pregnancy…the antibiotics would help counter it.  Okay…if 50% of women have this issue, why wasn’t I given the stronger antibiotics in the first place??!  Why are we only talking about this now, after I’ve done this TWICE?!

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At this point, my doctor is just grasping at straws. giphy (1)

He said it’s unlikely for 3 normal, healthy embryos to have recurrent implantation failure.  Usually, in a healthy, normal person like me, it would have worked.  And he says again, it could be that the embryos just have something wrong with them…even though chromosomally they are good.  Or there’s an issue with the uterus.  Or the universe just wants to fuck me in the asshole once again.


Seriously.  I always feel worse after talking to the doctor.  Yet…he has this way of hanging that fucking carrot in front of your face.  Will it work if I take more antibiotics??  Would it work if I do the surgery??  Who fucking knows anymore.

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Life is not a fairy tale

There are no such things as Christmas miracles.  The magic of Christmas does not exist.  And there is no Santa Claus.  Actually, Santa can go eat a big fat dick.

I have no words left to say about this.  I really thought this Christmas season would bring some good news.  But no…the universe has, once again, given me the middle finger.  So I have no hope left.  And there is really nothing anyone can say to make this any better.  I have zero fucks to give and I don’t need to hear it.  I know very well that life isn’t fair.  But does it always have to be a fucking bitch?

Unless you’ve experienced infertility, I doubt you could comprehend the chaotic and tumultuous emotions that you go through.  As an IVF newbie…you’re blissfully naive and ignorant to the fact that this only has a 30% chance of working.  Still…you believe.  The initial excitement, the feelings of HOPE, anticipation, and the positivity that THIS WILL WORK.

What. A. Fucking. Lie.

That dreaded phone call, that fucking phone call that I’ve experienced twice now.  Where the sadness is so palpable that you know what the news is without her even saying a word.  In a second your hopes and dreams shatter into a million pieces.  And your entire body feels numb, you’re in utter disbelief that this is happening to you, and then you just crumble to the floor.

In the end, when everything fails, all there is left is anger, frustration, and sadness. The future you took for granted, the one that almost everyone has…planning out the names of the two children you were going to have, what clothes you would buy, what schools they would attend, have now become one giant fucking question mark and you start to envision a different future.  One that you never planned, one that feels dark, empty, and pointless.

I’m not saying a childless life is not worth living.  I’m sure it is.  Well I hope it is because that is the path I’m currently on.  But I wonder…will there always be a piece of my soul missing…a constant void in my bitter heart?  Will I miss all those life changing experiences only a parent knows?  Will I be alone on my deathbed, with no one to take care of me?  I don’t know.  Maybe it’ll be different…but maybe it will be exactly that.

I spent today curled in the fetal position.  That was my day.  I thought it was going to be easier, being that this is my second time around.  No…it’s even harder.  This whole experience has been one shitty nightmare and I just need it to end.  I’m thankful for my husband and my Sophie…without them I would have slit my wrists a long time ago.  But for now…I’m done with babies.

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For those of you clueless to the IVF world, 4dp5dt means, 4 days past 5 day transfer…meaning…that I implanted a 5 day old embryo blastocyst and it’s been 4 days since my implantation.

Picture of my two embryos:


It’s actually a boy and a girl.  Bet you can guess which one is the boy…the one emerging LAST out of the cocoon while the girl is busy forming herself into a 5 month old fetus that talks already.

I’m currently in that two week wait for the second time in my life.  Which kind of feels like….you went ALL IN with your shitty poker hand and you’re waiting to see if you win…or you lose your $5000 bet.  For those of you that don’t know, the two week wait is the period after implantation where you wait until you take a blood test that either confirms a pregnancy OR confirms the fact that your uterus remains a nuclear wasteland.


A lot of people have been asking how I feel.  Well…I don’t feel all that great right now.  Because going through the dreaded two week wait is one long mindfuck.  Every symptom you experience, you feverishly google to see if it’s an “early pregnancy symptom.”  Which of course it is….or cancer.  Good old webmd tells me I’m about to die a horrible death every time I google a symptom.


Anyway…I’ve been feeling crampy twinges in my uterus.  It’s not painful, but I feel something.  And women who go through this always hope it’s the embryo attaching to the uterus.  But it could also be a symptom of progesterone shots.  So you really have no fucking clue what it is.  But your brain is constantly on red alert, analyzing every little thing you feel.


This is what’s been going on so far in my two week wait period:

Transfer day.  Spent the day resting at home, and coloring my IVF WTF coloring book!  You can buy it from Amazon here:  IVF WTF book.  Dick pics FTW.

1dp5dt.  Felt mostly normal.  Slight abdominal cramps.  Nothing out of the ordinary.

2dp5dt.  Tired with some crampy twinges in my uterus.

3dp5dt.  Lower back pain and crampy twinges in my uterus…along with a mini anxiety attack.  As I was falling asleep for the night, I woke up suddenly with what felt like a panic attack.  But just a minor one.  Then I experienced a hot flush all over my body.  I actually had to switch sides on the bed with my husband so that I could be directly in front of the AC.


4dp5dt.  A little upset stomach, not very hungry.  A bit restless.  Mid back pain now (which I know is no way related to pregnancy…I just have a shit back).  My skin feels a little tingly.  And my head feels weird…like fuzzy and on the verge of having a headache.  And I’m googling symptoms of course.  Which resulted in the internet telling me that I’m currently going through menopause.  Okay.

So…I don’t know what the hell is happening.  But it’s not fun.  I guess I just have to wait and see if I do hit that royal flush and win this fucking shit.  Or lose….again.


Stay updated with my Instagram page @IVFisabitch

Life is not about the destination…it’s about the journey to get there

I’ve never experienced a miscarriage before.  I’ve never had a D&C – dilation and curettage surgery before (where the cervix is dilated and they go into your uterus to scrape everything out).  I don’t know what it’s like to give birth to a stillborn child.  But I have experienced the loss of a [potential] baby.  And you ask anyone who has suffered from a failed IVF transfer…it’s the same thing.

Pregnancy loss is just that…the loss of a baby.  And even if your 5 day embryo blastocyst had no heartbeat and never physically attached to your uterus, that doesn’t mean we don’t experience the same level of hurt and grief.  And let me remind you, we just lost out on $12,000.  For some, it can be very financially heartbreaking as well.


For a lot of us, motherhood begins from the very first time you start taking hormone drugs.  Because this is the moment you start doing things for the life of someone else.  Do you think we WANT to shoot up hormones like acid crack cocaine?  No.  We do it in order to support the life of a child.  We literally sacrifice our asses for the benefit of keeping another human being alive.  Which is what parenting is all about, right?  Yes, I don’t know what it’s like to wake up every hour on the hour to feed a baby.  Or change a million diapers at 2:00 in the morning.  But I do know what it’s like to surrender your body and mind to do downright shitty things, just for the sake of a having a child.

So for everyone who already had their nipples fall off due to breastfeeding, just remember that I too, have had physically discomforting and emotionally exhausting things happen as well.  We all share the same pain.  Let’s not compare each other, and instead, support everyone going through the same thing.

Basically, stop being sensitive catty assholes and start being more supportive towards everyone who is just trying to be a parent.

We’re on the same fucking journey.


The House Always Wins

Last night we watched a documentary on Netflix, called Vegas Baby.  It’s about a fertility clinic in Las Vegas that used to hold a contest to offer one couple/individual a free round of IVF.  It shows the lives and stories of various contestants who suffer from infertility and who are trying to win a free round of IVF.  Basically, it’s depressing sob stories where barely anyone comes out a winner.


And that is the beauty of in vitro fertilization.

When I go to Las Vegas for vacation, and believe me, I go a lot, I don’t gamble that much.  I don’t play on the tables or pull $5 slots.  I sit on my 25 cent machines and play video poker.  My money lasts for a little while and I have a few small wins here and there.  But every time I go, I always put in my $21 and play the Megabucks.  Why?  Because I want the one in a billion trillion chance that I hit the winning pull and win $25 million.  But the odds are stacked against me, yet I still do it anyway.  Well…all it takes is one pull.


And that, essentially, is what doing IVF is like.  It’s high stakes gambling baby.  Throwing $12,000, $25,000, or $125,000 at a machine, betting on the 30% chance that you’ll win on the first pull.  30%….30.  That’s all it is.  And with every pull you take, you have the exact same odds at winning….or losing.  There are no small wins here or there.  When you play the game of IVF thrones, you either win, or you lose.


And as you get older, your odds of winning decrease drastically.  For women between the ages of 35-37, it might be 33-36%, but for women over the age of 40, it’s 13%.


This is the reality of it.  And it fucking sucks.

Would you put $20,000 in a machine, for the chance at ONE pull, when you have a 30% chance of winning???


Three is better than none

Today I told my doctor that I want to implant TWO eggs for my next IVF transfer.  This was his EXACT REACTION:

I’m not kidding you.  And I was totally silent after his, “WHYYYYY?” comment.  Why?  WHY???!  Because my fucking uterus remains a barren wasteland you a-hole!!

He then proceeded to tell me, again, the health risks of having multiples and how they probably will be premature and my chances of having twins are 50% and like 3-5% of having triplets and blahblahblahblahblah.  And then he goes, well you know you have uterine fibroids and you have higher chances of miscarriage and not being able to keep a pregnancy.  Say what?  Come again?

This is news to me.  I was not told this before.  I am pretty damn certain that I was told my fibroid tumors would NOT be a factor in my ability to get pregnant.  Due to the location of them and the fact that my fibroids are small, they wouldn’t be much of an issue in getting pregnant.  And now that I express interest in implanting two embryos, NOW he says they’re an issue?!?!?!


Just put the damn things in.


The devil made me do it

This might be a sensitive subject to some…so if you do get offended due to your religious beliefs…then I’m sorry you stumbled across my highly opinionated blog, but please keep your opinions to yourself and let me express mine.  This is my blog beeyotch.  Go write your own.  Or you know what, just don’t read this.



So my husband and I recently have been watching documentaries about serial killers.  Yup, we love that light-hearted comedy.  Anyway, we watched a documentary about Jeffrey Dahmer, the American serial killer that murdered, dismembered, and ATE 17 men/boys between 1978-1991.  He received like 15 life sentences [I don’t know why people are given more than one life sentence…it’s a LIFE SENTENCE which means TILL YOU DIE] for the crimes committed, and was beaten to death in prison.  Jeffrey Dahmer’s compulsion of keeping things close to him and his fascination with dead bodies and attractive men was what led him to his killing spree.  Yes, he was fucked up royally and pure evil.  But his family was very religious and at the end of his life (in prison), he became a God-fearing man.



In conclusion, his family believes that because Jeffrey Dahmer, the man who raped, murdered, and motherfucking ate 17 people for no reason at all, became Christian at the end of his life, he is now living/existing in heaven.


Nope.  Nope.  No no no nononono.  Hell no.



I’m sorry, but I find it hard to believe that a man who liked killing and eating people now resides in the heavenly skies above us for all of eternity.  JUST BECAUSE he “became” a Christian.  Now this is why I don’t understand religion at all.  Motherfucking common sense tells you that you do not reward someone for going on a murder spree!!  Even though you are sorry about it afterwards.  And yes, Jeffrey Dahmer did apologize for his actions, but he said even Christianity would not have stopped him from murdering again.  He would have continued to kill people till the day he died if he was not forcefully IMPRISONED in jail.  And you tell me, this man is in heaven???  Bull fucking shit.  Not in MY heaven.


And I know some of you believe that I, a generally wholesome good person who has not murdered or eaten a human being, will go to Hell when I die, because I don’t identify myself as a Christian and go to church.  Well you know what, when I get there, I will personally form an alliance with Lucifer and drag Jeffrey Dahmer and the rest of um down to Hell with me.  So there.


GIF you, you giffing bastard

Facebook tells me it’s been a year since I started fertility treatments.  A year.  A whole year of shooting up hormones like crystal meth.  And where has it got me…no where really.

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This is my last hurrah.  If my next embryo transfer fails, I. AM. DONE.

My ERA biopsy results didn’t tell me anything…because my uterus is normal.  As is everything else with me.  Normal.  Healthy.  Fine.  No explanation as to why I can’t get pregnant.  “Unexplained infertility” is what they call it.  Okay.

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Resonant healing was a disaster.


After my third session of “healing”, I contracted a severely itchy rash all over my hands.  My dermatologist thought it was scabies at first…and tested me for it.  Motherfucking bitch, do you know what scabies is???!  It’s when mites bury into your skin and lay eggs….IN YOUR FUCKING SKIN.  And it’s highly contagious.  You can just touch someone, and they will contract scabies as well.  And it goes into your clothes, bedding, carpet, etc.  Basically, you need to set your house AND YOURSELF on fire to get rid of it.

Thank god I tested negative for it.  It’s just a rash.  From what, I don’t know.  Maybe I’m just allergic to BULLSHIT.

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Other ladies have been trying to help me…talking about reproductive immunology and being tested for other immunological disorders and doing the “antihistamine protocol” for my next IVF cycle.  I’ll ask my doctor about it, but I’m pretty sure he’ll think it’s voodoo nonsense.  And I’m just tired of being tested, tired of doing procedures, just tired of all the shit that infertility brings.  I feel like my uterus, my cervix, and my vagina has been ripped apart in every direction, bruised, beaten, and broken.  My uterus is OVER IT.

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It’s actually kinda funny.  Two doctors have already commented about my cervix locking down like a military base on code red.  It actually refuses to open because my uterus is like, nope, no way in fucking hell you are getting through.

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So yep.  I’m tired.  I’m done.  Not trying anything new from here on out.  Not worth it.  Goodbye.

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