And so... it begins.

I'm eating cake.  Why is a woman hell bent on losing shit-tons of weight eating cake you ask... because it has chocolate on it.  Why is that relevant... because Aunt Flo arrived today and not only am I aware that my body metabolizes faster while I'm knee deep in menstrual cycle but also because Flo demands chocolate and what she demands, she gets.  That being said, welcome to the first of many blogs bound to contain a whole lotta TMI (and quite possibly foul language).

I mention this because I'm quite happy Aunt Flo showed up bright and early this morning.  It means that this is Day 1.  Cycle day 1 (CD1) to be exact and this will be the first day of what will hopefully be the successful stint of my TTC (trying to conceive) journey.  You see, I've been at this a while already... over a decade to generalize it.  It began when I was about a year into my first marriage.  As a teenager, I had always vowed to never have kids but somewhere after walking the long mile, I lost all track of my good senses and caught baby fever.  We tried, obviously unsuccessfully, for the latter 4 of our 5-year marriage.  Considering that marriage ended in divorce, the fact that we were unable to conceive ended up being a good thing.  I also don't generally think of this period as part of my TTC journey.  I didn't know what I was doing back then and, knowing what I know now, I didn't try nearly as hard as I should have.  Regardless, as most divorcees do, I spent a few years after that picking up the emotional pieces, as well as what was left of my self-esteem, and scotch taping it all back together until I felt comfortable with the "me" I had left to work with.  Then I started dating. 

Eventually, I suppose we'll call it after I met my husband and realized that it was not my lot to live pining and alone forever, my biological clock woke back up.  And when it did, it was thoroughly pissed off that I had ignored it for so long.  It felt like someone grabbed my Grandma's huge brass bell alarm clock and started beating my upper extremities with it.  I had an itch that would not be ignored under any circumstances.  Since then, the itch has turned into a longing that, most of the time, just makes me sad.  Eighteen cycles came and went without so much as an implantation tickle.  I suppose there was the one chemical pregnancy I'm fairly certain I had, but I try not to think about that one.  Needless to say, I was devastated when my doctors (yes doctorS, I'll get into that later) strongly suggested that I go back on birth control for a while.  I won't go into the medical stuff now other than to say they mentioned something about lymph nodes, arterial constriction and death and thought it was best that I try to avoid those things.  I agreed, though not without serious consideration, and proceeded to take a break from TTC to enjoy the worst drug ever created by man or beast.

So, after the shrinking of various organs, countless fevers, intense screaming fits of rage, mania, four prednisone tapers, fatigue and 40 or so unavoidable pounds later... here we are.  My doctors (one of them at least) has given me the AokieDokie to start trying again for our dream!  Well... my dream his "starting to really want".  And today, Day 1, is the first day of my cycle off birth control.  I'll likely be getting back into the swing of things on this cycle (frankly if it's effective I'll fall off the fucking throne I swear it) and letting my body rid of the birth control but at least they've given me hope.  Hope and a whole lotta renewed obsession.  So, please feel free to stop by on occasion and walk with me for a while on my journey.  As the blog title states, it's gonna be a barefoot sprint up a mountain but damn I can't wait to see the view!