This head cold/sinus infection has led to brain rot.
I can't really function all that well...or make a burrito for that matter. Sorry if this post makes less than good sense.
Sleep has eluded me for three nights now. I walk around all day like a zombie, but when it comes time for bed, I am wide awake. Not like wide awake and functioning. Mainly just sitting and staring. With wide eyes. Like a deer caught in the headlights. (Except that no 18-wheeler subsequently blasts me into oblivion.)
I tried to help DH make burritos last night. Yes, I said "tried". The first one went so-so, but the second one stopped cooperating (like it had a mind of its own) and I ended up kind of sort of throwing it across the kitchen. Yeah. That happened. The dog was in h-e-a-v-e-n, but DH was not impressed. In fact, he put me in time-out. Yeah. That happened, too.
I just hope the cold/sinus infection and all of its lovely side effects leave me....and soon. I think I've been given a glimpse of what it is like to be a man.
And it is very, very bad.
Showing posts with label Blah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blah. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Isolation Booth **Edited For Clarity**
Things are weird. I feel like all of my friendships are on hold, in limbo, or possibly just damaged beyond repair. It's not unlike the feeling of isolation that I felt when dealing with infertility. I thought that once I got pregnant I would rejoin, reconnect, and slip right back into my niche with the people I hold as dear to me as family. My group has changed, though. I was off at war. Fighting this awful enemy that threatened my hopes and seeped into all aspects of my life. I won that battle or at least, AM winning that battle for now. However, everything has changed. People have changed. I have changed. And relationships that were once wonderful and fulfilling are either gone or empty or have just changed so much without me realizing, that I don't even recognize them or know where to begin to find my way back to them.
When I was fighting IF, I turned to my friends for advice and comfort. They knew of my struggles, as a few were fighting similar battles. It all gets so old, though. "What's going on?" "How are you doing?" "Any news?" These questions became like crosses to bear. "Just waiting." "The same." "No, nothing to report." There was a sense of self-consciousness that overcame me. It seemed that ALL of my conversations in ALL of my friendships centered around what was happening in my life and my fight with infertility, my quest to get pregnant. I hated it. I wanted to run away from it all. Get back to a place where I could have laughter and fun without this cloud hanging over my head, without wondering what the next cycle would bring, worrying if I would ever get where I was desperate to be. I wanted to be me and I just couldn't.
Now, I'm pregnant. A battle has been won. Aside from lost time, a friendship is also lost. Three more friendships are weird. I haven't a clue how to fix any of it. Two of them are weird for reasons I understand. Completely.
One is with a fellow IFer who was pregnant right along side me for about 6 weeks. Sadly, she lost her baby at 9 weeks, has had a D&C and is now waiting for her body to regulate so that she can move forward with an FET. I have been there. I know all about the protective walls we build around ourselves when we feel vulnerable, sad and beat down from IF. When I had my m/c last April, she was there for me and I know there was a period of "downtime" where her support never wavered. But I wasn't up for it. I wanted to shut the world out. Forget about it all. Be a hermit. Stay in my shell. My support for her is there and I know that she knows that. I'm just kind of waiting for the natural progression of these things. She waited for me. I wait for her. Plus, she is super busy with her work. Matters that must be attended to - work demands its demands, people!! Still, feeling disconnected is never a good feeling.
Another friend of mine has received devastating news. She can no longer use her own eggs if she wants to carry a child. I could not imagine what a blow that would be. We've stayed in touch. We're talking less than what we have before, but still talking. She has admitted that she thinks it's the end of the road for her and TTC. I listen and support, but I cannot, CANNOT imagine how she must be feeling. All I can do is tell her I love her and that if she needs me I am here. She has told me she wants to take a step back from all things TTC. See how she feels. I know she is doing what she needs to do for her. But I'm sad for us. I would love to talk to her about the other things she has going on in her life. But I understand her need for space.
The third friend is a bit weirder on the "things are weird" scale. She admitted to me some things that I know she is not proud of. She didn't want to keep secrets from me, so she told me some things. Now she has just kind of disappeared off the radar and I can only imagine that she maybe wishes she hadn't told me to begin with? Like she thought she would feel better, but doesn't? I don't know - all I can do is just continue to try and reach out to her. I love her no matter what.
The friendship that was lost happened before I started stimming for my cycle. I don't really know what to say about it other than maybe, just maybe, had I not been staring down the barrel of our last chance at conceiving, I would have been able to devote more energy into saving it, given it the fight it deserved. I was wrong to let it go the way it did, but she was wrong, too. Now, it's too late. Actions on both of our parts have shown that neither of us are willing to go back and make ammends. I'm still sad over it, though.
Turns out, in pregnancy one can feel just as isolated as on infertility. My friends are changing. I am changing. We're struggling to keep that connection that keeps us changing together.
When I was fighting IF, I turned to my friends for advice and comfort. They knew of my struggles, as a few were fighting similar battles. It all gets so old, though. "What's going on?" "How are you doing?" "Any news?" These questions became like crosses to bear. "Just waiting." "The same." "No, nothing to report." There was a sense of self-consciousness that overcame me. It seemed that ALL of my conversations in ALL of my friendships centered around what was happening in my life and my fight with infertility, my quest to get pregnant. I hated it. I wanted to run away from it all. Get back to a place where I could have laughter and fun without this cloud hanging over my head, without wondering what the next cycle would bring, worrying if I would ever get where I was desperate to be. I wanted to be me and I just couldn't.
Now, I'm pregnant. A battle has been won. Aside from lost time, a friendship is also lost. Three more friendships are weird. I haven't a clue how to fix any of it. Two of them are weird for reasons I understand. Completely.
One is with a fellow IFer who was pregnant right along side me for about 6 weeks. Sadly, she lost her baby at 9 weeks, has had a D&C and is now waiting for her body to regulate so that she can move forward with an FET. I have been there. I know all about the protective walls we build around ourselves when we feel vulnerable, sad and beat down from IF. When I had my m/c last April, she was there for me and I know there was a period of "downtime" where her support never wavered. But I wasn't up for it. I wanted to shut the world out. Forget about it all. Be a hermit. Stay in my shell. My support for her is there and I know that she knows that. I'm just kind of waiting for the natural progression of these things. She waited for me. I wait for her. Plus, she is super busy with her work. Matters that must be attended to - work demands its demands, people!! Still, feeling disconnected is never a good feeling.
Another friend of mine has received devastating news. She can no longer use her own eggs if she wants to carry a child. I could not imagine what a blow that would be. We've stayed in touch. We're talking less than what we have before, but still talking. She has admitted that she thinks it's the end of the road for her and TTC. I listen and support, but I cannot, CANNOT imagine how she must be feeling. All I can do is tell her I love her and that if she needs me I am here. She has told me she wants to take a step back from all things TTC. See how she feels. I know she is doing what she needs to do for her. But I'm sad for us. I would love to talk to her about the other things she has going on in her life. But I understand her need for space.
The third friend is a bit weirder on the "things are weird" scale. She admitted to me some things that I know she is not proud of. She didn't want to keep secrets from me, so she told me some things. Now she has just kind of disappeared off the radar and I can only imagine that she maybe wishes she hadn't told me to begin with? Like she thought she would feel better, but doesn't? I don't know - all I can do is just continue to try and reach out to her. I love her no matter what.
The friendship that was lost happened before I started stimming for my cycle. I don't really know what to say about it other than maybe, just maybe, had I not been staring down the barrel of our last chance at conceiving, I would have been able to devote more energy into saving it, given it the fight it deserved. I was wrong to let it go the way it did, but she was wrong, too. Now, it's too late. Actions on both of our parts have shown that neither of us are willing to go back and make ammends. I'm still sad over it, though.
Turns out, in pregnancy one can feel just as isolated as on infertility. My friends are changing. I am changing. We're struggling to keep that connection that keeps us changing together.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
This is Difficult
Bed rest is hard, yo. I'm going to do what I need to keep these babies baking and myself healthy, but what an adjustment!
Yesterday, my first day on it, did not go so well. Laying in bed, even propped up, gets painful. My lower back hurt, my hips hurt. By 6 pm, I was a mess - crying, with a splitting headache and frustrated that everyone around me was picking up the slack and not really doing a great job adjusting to their new roles, either.
DS2 acted out a lot. He's not used to me being in bed. He wanted to be near me. He wallowed all over me. A couple of times I had to yell for DH to come in and remove him, which made him upset and he would cry and cry. He cried A LOT yesterday. My poor babe.
And my DH. Where to start? I guess by saying his work is being amazing about all of this. We have no family here. Our family lives 1000 miles away. We will need to hire help to come in and allow him to return to some sort of normalcy in his job, but in the meantime, it is just him being me. And yesterday, he wasn't a very good me. I love him, but I need to vent about this, so bear with me.
At 1:00 I asked him for some lunch. I told him exactly what I wanted, beef tips and noodles. Sounds more difficult than it really is, egg noodles cooked in beef broth (about >10 minutes to make) and the Hor.mel beef tips that you just pop in the microwave (3-4 minutes total). By 4:15, all he had brought me in was a chicken tender from So.nic. ONE chicken tender. I had had nothing to drink and each time I asked one of the kids what Daddy was doing, they responded with, "Playing Fa.ble (a video game)". Are you stinking kidding me? At 5:00, I got my food, my lunch. AT 5 PM!!!!!!!
He also barely spoke to me all day. I felt like such an outcast. When I would yell for him, he would yell back, "What?!" like he didn't even want to come in the room. By 6:30, I felt so lonely, all I wanted to do was cry. Fortunately, both my boys and my dog were at my side constantly to keep me company, although managing them around me all the time was kind of stressful.
I know that DH is stressed and he handles it in his own way. He's nicknamed "The Duck" by his family - calm on the surface, paddle like hell underwater. It's true. He internalizes everything. I just can't help but feel like he's inadvertently punishing me in the process.
Ugh, I clearly have too much time to think.
Yesterday, my first day on it, did not go so well. Laying in bed, even propped up, gets painful. My lower back hurt, my hips hurt. By 6 pm, I was a mess - crying, with a splitting headache and frustrated that everyone around me was picking up the slack and not really doing a great job adjusting to their new roles, either.
DS2 acted out a lot. He's not used to me being in bed. He wanted to be near me. He wallowed all over me. A couple of times I had to yell for DH to come in and remove him, which made him upset and he would cry and cry. He cried A LOT yesterday. My poor babe.
And my DH. Where to start? I guess by saying his work is being amazing about all of this. We have no family here. Our family lives 1000 miles away. We will need to hire help to come in and allow him to return to some sort of normalcy in his job, but in the meantime, it is just him being me. And yesterday, he wasn't a very good me. I love him, but I need to vent about this, so bear with me.
At 1:00 I asked him for some lunch. I told him exactly what I wanted, beef tips and noodles. Sounds more difficult than it really is, egg noodles cooked in beef broth (about >10 minutes to make) and the Hor.mel beef tips that you just pop in the microwave (3-4 minutes total). By 4:15, all he had brought me in was a chicken tender from So.nic. ONE chicken tender. I had had nothing to drink and each time I asked one of the kids what Daddy was doing, they responded with, "Playing Fa.ble (a video game)". Are you stinking kidding me? At 5:00, I got my food, my lunch. AT 5 PM!!!!!!!
He also barely spoke to me all day. I felt like such an outcast. When I would yell for him, he would yell back, "What?!" like he didn't even want to come in the room. By 6:30, I felt so lonely, all I wanted to do was cry. Fortunately, both my boys and my dog were at my side constantly to keep me company, although managing them around me all the time was kind of stressful.
I know that DH is stressed and he handles it in his own way. He's nicknamed "The Duck" by his family - calm on the surface, paddle like hell underwater. It's true. He internalizes everything. I just can't help but feel like he's inadvertently punishing me in the process.
Ugh, I clearly have too much time to think.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Gender Disappointment
These words are gross to me. I didn't even know there was such a thing as gender disappointment until I went searching for a place to upload the twins' NT scan pics to get opinions on what sex they might be. The most popular site In.Genderdotcom, has a whole section devoted to being disappointed in the gender of your baby. What. The. Eff.
Apparently, when you are fertile, you get to get pregnant at will and have the audacity to be disappointed if you were trying for a boy and got a girl or trying for a girl and got a boy. I try not to let this kind of stuff get to me - I don't really care what kind of silliness people who have no clue how lucky they are can conjur up for themselves to get upset/disappointed over, but I'll be damned if that type of ridiculous behavior is going to creep into my life.
Let me set the stage for better understanding of why I am even addressing this stupidity here. Since we found out that the twins are boys, the reaction from family has been less than stellar. We've been met with more, "Awws" than "OHMYGOODGODANDGRAVY, Congratulations, you guys!!!" We've even had an, "Oh well, as long as they are healthy" comment (this one really pissed me off). I know that these people love us, want what is best for us and always have our best intentions at heart, but does anybody really think that the genders of these little ones was the goal here?! Especially since these are people who know what we've gone through to get here.
I don't care if these babies are giraffes, as long as I can carry them to a healthy term, deliver them safely and be healthy myself, that's all that matters to me. Why can't others just be happy for us? What's so great about having a daughter that makes these little guys less miraculous? Am I missing something here?
It's not my goal to bash girls, believe me. We would be ecstatic to be having a little girl, but the part that irks me is that obviously our family would be ecstatic, too and THAT'S the part that I don't get. Little boys only get an "Oh well" while little girls would warrant a proper reaction?
How could anyone not be as excited and grateful as we are over our labor of love?
I feel like we should preface telling people with a "Sorry to let you down, but..."
Apparently, when you are fertile, you get to get pregnant at will and have the audacity to be disappointed if you were trying for a boy and got a girl or trying for a girl and got a boy. I try not to let this kind of stuff get to me - I don't really care what kind of silliness people who have no clue how lucky they are can conjur up for themselves to get upset/disappointed over, but I'll be damned if that type of ridiculous behavior is going to creep into my life.
Let me set the stage for better understanding of why I am even addressing this stupidity here. Since we found out that the twins are boys, the reaction from family has been less than stellar. We've been met with more, "Awws" than "OHMYGOODGODANDGRAVY, Congratulations, you guys!!!" We've even had an, "Oh well, as long as they are healthy" comment (this one really pissed me off). I know that these people love us, want what is best for us and always have our best intentions at heart, but does anybody really think that the genders of these little ones was the goal here?! Especially since these are people who know what we've gone through to get here.
I don't care if these babies are giraffes, as long as I can carry them to a healthy term, deliver them safely and be healthy myself, that's all that matters to me. Why can't others just be happy for us? What's so great about having a daughter that makes these little guys less miraculous? Am I missing something here?
It's not my goal to bash girls, believe me. We would be ecstatic to be having a little girl, but the part that irks me is that obviously our family would be ecstatic, too and THAT'S the part that I don't get. Little boys only get an "Oh well" while little girls would warrant a proper reaction?
How could anyone not be as excited and grateful as we are over our labor of love?
I feel like we should preface telling people with a "Sorry to let you down, but..."
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Remembering Baby J
Today is a hard day. It's my due date for the baby that I lost after my first IVF.
I feel more than what I can/will write here, but I just wanted to say that although I am very thankful for the blessings headed my way in the spring, I will never be okay with the loss of Baby J.
So today, I am thinking about my angel baby gone too soon.
I feel more than what I can/will write here, but I just wanted to say that although I am very thankful for the blessings headed my way in the spring, I will never be okay with the loss of Baby J.
So today, I am thinking about my angel baby gone too soon.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
You Gotta Pick and Choose Your Battles
So, I spent most of Monday evening just being generally annoyed that my OB never got back to me about my request for Zo.fran. I went to bed nauseous, woke up nauseous and all morning Tuesday plotting how I would chew the nurses out for not getting back to me. Thankful for common sense, I called the pharmacy just to make sure that there wasn't a prescription waiting for me. Well, there was. Since the day before. Oops.
I rushed off to pick it up and just couldn't wait to gobble it up and start feeling semi-human again. I took my first dose immediately and six hours later, like clockwork, I took my second. I was feeling great. Until I wasn't feeling great. At all.
I woke up at 11:30 Tuesday night with a splitting headache. Like full-on migraine pain. After I rolled back and forth on the bed holding my face in my hands for a good hour, I got up and staggered to the kitchen for a cup of tea. I figured a little caffeine would probably do the trick. Wrong. Three hours later, I was plotting driving myself to the ER. You see, typically, when I have a migraine, at some point I puke. That signals a turning point in the headache. After puking, I always am able to go to sleep and when I wake up, I'm better. Well, there would be no puking this time. You see, I was on Zo.fran and couldn't throw up. I wasn't even nauseated. Just had severe head/neck pain. Anyway, at some point, I fell asleep.
I woke up to my DH saying goodbye as he was heading off to work and wondering why I was sleeping with a "towel on my face" (it was a washcloth). He was completely unawares of the night I had. When he left, I got up and went out to the kitchen, feeling a little better and eager to eat a little something even though my nausea was sneaking up on me again. After I gagged down a piece of toast, I reached for my Zo.fran. Before I could take the pill, I checked out the side of the bottle and there it was. Plain. As. Day.
"May Cause Headaches"
Well, eff that.
I rushed off to pick it up and just couldn't wait to gobble it up and start feeling semi-human again. I took my first dose immediately and six hours later, like clockwork, I took my second. I was feeling great. Until I wasn't feeling great. At all.
I woke up at 11:30 Tuesday night with a splitting headache. Like full-on migraine pain. After I rolled back and forth on the bed holding my face in my hands for a good hour, I got up and staggered to the kitchen for a cup of tea. I figured a little caffeine would probably do the trick. Wrong. Three hours later, I was plotting driving myself to the ER. You see, typically, when I have a migraine, at some point I puke. That signals a turning point in the headache. After puking, I always am able to go to sleep and when I wake up, I'm better. Well, there would be no puking this time. You see, I was on Zo.fran and couldn't throw up. I wasn't even nauseated. Just had severe head/neck pain. Anyway, at some point, I fell asleep.
I woke up to my DH saying goodbye as he was heading off to work and wondering why I was sleeping with a "towel on my face" (it was a washcloth). He was completely unawares of the night I had. When he left, I got up and went out to the kitchen, feeling a little better and eager to eat a little something even though my nausea was sneaking up on me again. After I gagged down a piece of toast, I reached for my Zo.fran. Before I could take the pill, I checked out the side of the bottle and there it was. Plain. As. Day.
"May Cause Headaches"
Well, eff that.
Monday, November 28, 2011
A Cry For Help
Came in the form of me calling my OB's office for a prescription for Zo.fran. I shouldn't have to suffer like this while others tell me that they wouldn't be able to function without their Zo.fran. I throw in the towel. I am reassured beyond what I can describe that this pregnancy is going well, but I cannot.....CANNOT allow the children that I have to endure a deadbeat mom who cannot get off the couch.
It figures that as business hours wind down on the day where morning sickness got the best of me, I have yet to hear from my OB. Please let them call that prescription in tonight.
Please.
It figures that as business hours wind down on the day where morning sickness got the best of me, I have yet to hear from my OB. Please let them call that prescription in tonight.
Please.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Awful Angry Ugly Rant
Disclaimer: I am completely belligerent and irrational today. I'm bitter and hateful and there is no pulling the reigns back on my emotions right now. This is not the me that I enjoy being. This is the me that this journey is making me right now. I could probably fight hard against these feelings, but I don't have the strength today. It is THURSDAY and I will feel how I need to feel.
I am so angry today. It's now been three weeks and this last week has dealt me more bad days than good. Now it's Thursday again and I woke up thinking, "Today, I WOULD'VE been eleven weeks pregnant." Is it going to be like this every Thursday? Will I ever get to just enjoy one without wondering whatcould've should've been?? I just want to go back to bed until tomorrow, but I can't.
I've been so bitter of late. I've completely dropped off of my two week wait forums. I don't comment at all on my IVF forum anymore and the miscarriage forum that I joined with the other December 2011 mamas who lost their babies is moving right along without me which is probably for the best. They are all coping amazingly well with their losses and making plans to move forward and trying to get pregnant again. I am not dealing so well with my loss. I WISH I was. Believe me, it would be so much easier to just handle it and move on. While I feel like I'm handling it, the moving on is the hard part. Certainly DH and I could hope for an au naturale pregnancy, but those odds are not likely. In order to move forward in the TTC department, we would need to make plans, make appointments, make phone calls. So hilarious that making a baby is more about making phone calls than making love. Ha. Ha ha. Ha ha ha. Ha. And what's funnier...I am about as fertile as one could possibly be right now. Ask my good friend unaffected. She was lucky enough to get a picture of my CM yesterday, as it was the stretchiest and most it's ever been. I was completely in awe of myself and my EWCM. Put me in Ripley's Believe It or Not.
Facebook is full of pregnancy/birth announcements this week. Just another website I'll be ignoring for a bit. As if it isn't bad enough that I skip over belly pics, new baby pics, prenatal doctor's appointment updates, etc. I've also found myself raging against certain ALI blogs that I've come across. Yep, you read that right. I've been hating on fellow infertiles, people. A new low, indeed. For example, I found a blog through a blog that I follow and I was reading her "TTC Journey" and was feeling all sympathetic to her plight and everything. She did all the IUIs and the Cl.omids and the Fe.mara cycles and then had to move on to IVF. My heart understands. It sympathizes. It really does. So she does IVF and it works. She gets a baby out of it. So she wants another. I understand. It's an intrinsic desire, wanting to build on your family. So she does IVF again and it works. She's happily trucking through her second trimester. Awesome, right? Totally. I slammed my computer shut and thought to myself, "So you had to do IVF twice and it worked both times. Poor you. It must be soooooooo hard."
Yes, indeed. Who am I and where is the real me?? I hope she comes back soon because I have to go to Walmart in a bit and I'll certainly bust a cap in someone's ass if I have to go feeling like this.
I am so angry today. It's now been three weeks and this last week has dealt me more bad days than good. Now it's Thursday again and I woke up thinking, "Today, I WOULD'VE been eleven weeks pregnant." Is it going to be like this every Thursday? Will I ever get to just enjoy one without wondering what
I've been so bitter of late. I've completely dropped off of my two week wait forums. I don't comment at all on my IVF forum anymore and the miscarriage forum that I joined with the other December 2011 mamas who lost their babies is moving right along without me which is probably for the best. They are all coping amazingly well with their losses and making plans to move forward and trying to get pregnant again. I am not dealing so well with my loss. I WISH I was. Believe me, it would be so much easier to just handle it and move on. While I feel like I'm handling it, the moving on is the hard part. Certainly DH and I could hope for an au naturale pregnancy, but those odds are not likely. In order to move forward in the TTC department, we would need to make plans, make appointments, make phone calls. So hilarious that making a baby is more about making phone calls than making love. Ha. Ha ha. Ha ha ha. Ha. And what's funnier...I am about as fertile as one could possibly be right now. Ask my good friend unaffected. She was lucky enough to get a picture of my CM yesterday, as it was the stretchiest and most it's ever been. I was completely in awe of myself and my EWCM. Put me in Ripley's Believe It or Not.
Facebook is full of pregnancy/birth announcements this week. Just another website I'll be ignoring for a bit. As if it isn't bad enough that I skip over belly pics, new baby pics, prenatal doctor's appointment updates, etc. I've also found myself raging against certain ALI blogs that I've come across. Yep, you read that right. I've been hating on fellow infertiles, people. A new low, indeed. For example, I found a blog through a blog that I follow and I was reading her "TTC Journey" and was feeling all sympathetic to her plight and everything. She did all the IUIs and the Cl.omids and the Fe.mara cycles and then had to move on to IVF. My heart understands. It sympathizes. It really does. So she does IVF and it works. She gets a baby out of it. So she wants another. I understand. It's an intrinsic desire, wanting to build on your family. So she does IVF again and it works. She's happily trucking through her second trimester. Awesome, right? Totally. I slammed my computer shut and thought to myself, "So you had to do IVF twice and it worked both times. Poor you. It must be soooooooo hard."
Yes, indeed. Who am I and where is the real me?? I hope she comes back soon because I have to go to Walmart in a bit and I'll certainly bust a cap in someone's ass if I have to go feeling like this.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Le Sigh
I hate Thursdays.
For the record, I realize it's Wednesday, but I hate Thursdays and Thursday is tomorrow and I probably won't blog tomorrow, so I'll just say it now - I hate Thursdays.
You see, each Thursday I would have turned another week pregnant. This week's Thursday, also known as "tomorrow", I would have been ten weeks pregnant. Two weeks from proclaiming to the world that weare were happily expecting. Now each passing Thursday propels me one week closer to an unfulfilled due date. Figures. Stupid Thursday. Not cool enough to be "hump day" and not fun enough to be celebrated as the day ushering in the weekend.
There is a whole Facebook page dedicated to the hatred of Thursdays. I will most likely be joining it.
For the record, I realize it's Wednesday, but I hate Thursdays and Thursday is tomorrow and I probably won't blog tomorrow, so I'll just say it now - I hate Thursdays.
You see, each Thursday I would have turned another week pregnant. This week's Thursday, also known as "tomorrow", I would have been ten weeks pregnant. Two weeks from proclaiming to the world that we
There is a whole Facebook page dedicated to the hatred of Thursdays. I will most likely be joining it.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Grief
I don't want to let another day pass without at least telling you all that, physically, I am okay. The D&C went as expected and I am no longer pregnant.
I am no longer pregnant.
My baby is dead. Gone. Never going to be born. Never going to be loved and looked after and cared for and cherished.
I am in a pretty fucking dark place right now. There is nothing to satisfy the emptiness I feel.
I just want my baby back.
I am no longer pregnant.
My baby is dead. Gone. Never going to be born. Never going to be loved and looked after and cared for and cherished.
I am in a pretty fucking dark place right now. There is nothing to satisfy the emptiness I feel.
I just want my baby back.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Letting Go
My whole body hurts. From the middle of my back to my knees, I feel my whole body gearing up for what I only imagine is going to be one hell of a period. It's getting ready to let go. And I have been, too.
I want to thank you all for your thoughts and sweet comments. Some of you have been cheering me on since my first post. Others, my first injection. Still others, my first beta. I am so appreciative of all of the support I have received during what had been a crazy, bumpy ride.
Truth be told, I think this is coming to an end. I know there's no way to know for sure until my appointment on Monday. Call it mother's intuition, I think my baby is tired. It's okay to let go. I've been telling her since yesterday that if it would be easier to go, I only want her to know first that I've been dreaming about and wanting her for so long and I want nothing more to be her mom, but that I understood.
I will miss this baby every single day. I know it will be hard to deal with, but I have been told a lot by my DH that he thinks I have been strong and handled everything really well. I hope that I can grieve this loss and find a way to go forward. Although it is not the outcome we had hoped, it is an answer and it is a way to move on and start living again.
Oh, my sweet baby....
I want to thank you all for your thoughts and sweet comments. Some of you have been cheering me on since my first post. Others, my first injection. Still others, my first beta. I am so appreciative of all of the support I have received during what had been a crazy, bumpy ride.
Truth be told, I think this is coming to an end. I know there's no way to know for sure until my appointment on Monday. Call it mother's intuition, I think my baby is tired. It's okay to let go. I've been telling her since yesterday that if it would be easier to go, I only want her to know first that I've been dreaming about and wanting her for so long and I want nothing more to be her mom, but that I understood.
I will miss this baby every single day. I know it will be hard to deal with, but I have been told a lot by my DH that he thinks I have been strong and handled everything really well. I hope that I can grieve this loss and find a way to go forward. Although it is not the outcome we had hoped, it is an answer and it is a way to move on and start living again.
Oh, my sweet baby....
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
If it Weren't for Bad News, There Would be No News
Warning: I curse at the end of this post. Offended? Don't read.
Last night, I ran a fever. Out of concern, I called the RE's office and let them know. Of course, they wanted me to come in so they could take a look. The good news? RE thinks that the fever is viral and that it would pass within a day or two.
Bad news: Fetal heart rate was down to 97. Monday it was 103. RE is "concerned". Says time will tell and we will recheck on Monday. He also marked my check-out sheet "high risk pregnancy" for the first time ever and I found the reason why on Dr. Google.
http://radiology.rsna.org/content/236/2/643.full
Don't feel like reading it? Here is the gist. In 300 pregnancies where a low embryonic heart rate was found at 6-7 weeks (low = 100 bpm or less at 6.3 - 7.0 weeks), 188 or 60.6% ended before the first trimester was over. Many ended within a week. (As in, go back for recheck and find out that fetal cardiac activity had ceased.)
I fall into this category. Yay! Can't wait to go in on Monday and see whether or not my baby died. And the best part? Even if the heart rate recovers, my chances of "first trimester demise" are still 25% higher than most pregnancies.
Fuck you IVF. Fuck the last 3 months of my life and all the hope I had that this bullshit would work, too.
Last night, I ran a fever. Out of concern, I called the RE's office and let them know. Of course, they wanted me to come in so they could take a look. The good news? RE thinks that the fever is viral and that it would pass within a day or two.
Bad news: Fetal heart rate was down to 97. Monday it was 103. RE is "concerned". Says time will tell and we will recheck on Monday. He also marked my check-out sheet "high risk pregnancy" for the first time ever and I found the reason why on Dr. Google.
http://radiology.rsna.org/content/236/2/643.full
Don't feel like reading it? Here is the gist. In 300 pregnancies where a low embryonic heart rate was found at 6-7 weeks (low = 100 bpm or less at 6.3 - 7.0 weeks), 188 or 60.6% ended before the first trimester was over. Many ended within a week. (As in, go back for recheck and find out that fetal cardiac activity had ceased.)
I fall into this category. Yay! Can't wait to go in on Monday and see whether or not my baby died. And the best part? Even if the heart rate recovers, my chances of "first trimester demise" are still 25% higher than most pregnancies.
Fuck you IVF. Fuck the last 3 months of my life and all the hope I had that this bullshit would work, too.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Teetering
My happiness from Tuesday's ultrasound was sweet, but short-lived. Late Tuesday night, I passed several (five or so) clots and went in for another u/s. Baby was fine. Heartbeat was visible to me from where I was laying. I was told that at this point, I have a 50/50 chance of miscarrying. Although I hate those odds, I left feeling relieved. My breathing came easier to me having seen my baby. Now, I am back to the place where everything is distorted. Every positive, good feeling is punctuated by a question mark. Every dark, morbid thought is made darker with uncertainty and fear.
I just went to the bathroom and passed another clot along with some bright red blood. Now I am back to dark brown spotting. I don't know what to do or think. I cannot go rushing in for an u/s every time I see tissue. I feel like I should know by now that a few small clots does not a miscarriage make. At this point, I should feel confident that I've beaten the bleeding before and that everything will be fine. I should be able to coast until Monday and just see then what is going on. It's quite easy to separate my logical thinking when I'm sitting here blogging from how I feel when I go to the bathroom and feel like I'm looking at a crime scene. When I'm there, I just want to rush to the phone and call my doc and go running to his office.
I am tired. I am scared. I am tired of being scared. I feel like I'm teetering on the edge of heartbreak. Just when I think I can take a step back and turn away, I am forced to step even closer to the ledge and stare wide-eyed into what would certainly be one of the most awful experiences in life.
I just went to the bathroom and passed another clot along with some bright red blood. Now I am back to dark brown spotting. I don't know what to do or think. I cannot go rushing in for an u/s every time I see tissue. I feel like I should know by now that a few small clots does not a miscarriage make. At this point, I should feel confident that I've beaten the bleeding before and that everything will be fine. I should be able to coast until Monday and just see then what is going on. It's quite easy to separate my logical thinking when I'm sitting here blogging from how I feel when I go to the bathroom and feel like I'm looking at a crime scene. When I'm there, I just want to rush to the phone and call my doc and go running to his office.
I am tired. I am scared. I am tired of being scared. I feel like I'm teetering on the edge of heartbreak. Just when I think I can take a step back and turn away, I am forced to step even closer to the ledge and stare wide-eyed into what would certainly be one of the most awful experiences in life.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Bad Dreams...
I tend to dream a lot when I'm really tired. It makes sense that in pregnancy I would dream more because by the time my head hits the pillow at night, I'm exhausted. For the last ten or more nights, I've been dreaming a lot.
A few days ago, I realized that my friend Jenn's visit was coiniciding with Cinco de Mayo. I sent her a text and we talked a little about it and she playfully said, "No cocktails for you, mama!" I agreed that this year, I would be DD. Well, last night I dreamed about Cinco de Mayo and I was having margaritas with her...
DH and I are going away for our ten year anniversary in July and the whole trip is a big surprise to me. I know that there is a trip, but I have no clue where we are going and don't plan on knowing until we get on the plane. I dreamed last night that we went to Italy and we were both having wine and eating pizza in Naples.
Not horrible dreams by any means - celebrating with my husband and having some drinks with a grilfriend, but the point was - I wasn't pregnant. By the time, May rolled around (in my dream) I was having a few drinks. My mind is playing horrible tricks on me. Making me even more fearful that this will all end either at my next beta or at my first ultrasound. Why can't there ever be peace of mind? Will there always be something unnecessary to worry about? Obviously, throughout pregnancy there are many worries because so much can go wrong, but DH and I are feeling robbed of the simple joy of being pregnant and looking forward.
I feel like I'm stuck until the 18th. It's very frustrating.
**Asking that everyone please keep my close friend in your thoughts and prayers - she's been struggling to conceive for many years and is taking a few months off from TTC and moving on to IVF in the late summer.**
A few days ago, I realized that my friend Jenn's visit was coiniciding with Cinco de Mayo. I sent her a text and we talked a little about it and she playfully said, "No cocktails for you, mama!" I agreed that this year, I would be DD. Well, last night I dreamed about Cinco de Mayo and I was having margaritas with her...
DH and I are going away for our ten year anniversary in July and the whole trip is a big surprise to me. I know that there is a trip, but I have no clue where we are going and don't plan on knowing until we get on the plane. I dreamed last night that we went to Italy and we were both having wine and eating pizza in Naples.
Not horrible dreams by any means - celebrating with my husband and having some drinks with a grilfriend, but the point was - I wasn't pregnant. By the time, May rolled around (in my dream) I was having a few drinks. My mind is playing horrible tricks on me. Making me even more fearful that this will all end either at my next beta or at my first ultrasound. Why can't there ever be peace of mind? Will there always be something unnecessary to worry about? Obviously, throughout pregnancy there are many worries because so much can go wrong, but DH and I are feeling robbed of the simple joy of being pregnant and looking forward.
I feel like I'm stuck until the 18th. It's very frustrating.
**Asking that everyone please keep my close friend in your thoughts and prayers - she's been struggling to conceive for many years and is taking a few months off from TTC and moving on to IVF in the late summer.**
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Location: Limbo
That's where I am right now. In between. Unable to look forward, unable to cope and heal.
DH and I grieved hard on Tuesday. We cried together, held each other, stared into each others eyes. So full of hurt, both seeing our own eyes looking back at us. We were hardly coming to terms with what was happening but we were coping. We were working through the pain and picking up the pieces in an attempt to heal and move on.
Now we can't even do that. We showered together last night (that's where we have our best conversations) and he said to me, "This is stupid. Your beta doubled, but you're bleeding. If I could get past the bleeding, I still worry about your beta being low." It's true. We haven't a clue how to feel or what to think. We are in the gray area.
I was able to get my beta moved up to Friday (tomorrow). I will be sure to let you know what's going on as soon as I know. In the meantime, I am still bleeding pretty heavily. It's bright red and can be compared to a heavier-ish day of AF. I went ahead and POAS this morning. I wanted to see if there was any progression at all. Up until this point, I have been a proactive patient in my IVF and I plan to be to the end. I didn't POAS Wednesday morning because I was sure my beta would show dropping Hcg levels and it would be over. The first pic is 9DP5DT, the second is 10DP5DT, the last is this morning's 12DP5DT.
Talk about total confusion. Today's test is blazing in comparison. And I had to dip it in a cup of pee that looked like fruit punch - it was so red. Sorry if TMI, but this is what I'm dealing with.
I am afraid. Please pray for my baby.
DH and I grieved hard on Tuesday. We cried together, held each other, stared into each others eyes. So full of hurt, both seeing our own eyes looking back at us. We were hardly coming to terms with what was happening but we were coping. We were working through the pain and picking up the pieces in an attempt to heal and move on.
Now we can't even do that. We showered together last night (that's where we have our best conversations) and he said to me, "This is stupid. Your beta doubled, but you're bleeding. If I could get past the bleeding, I still worry about your beta being low." It's true. We haven't a clue how to feel or what to think. We are in the gray area.
I was able to get my beta moved up to Friday (tomorrow). I will be sure to let you know what's going on as soon as I know. In the meantime, I am still bleeding pretty heavily. It's bright red and can be compared to a heavier-ish day of AF. I went ahead and POAS this morning. I wanted to see if there was any progression at all. Up until this point, I have been a proactive patient in my IVF and I plan to be to the end. I didn't POAS Wednesday morning because I was sure my beta would show dropping Hcg levels and it would be over. The first pic is 9DP5DT, the second is 10DP5DT, the last is this morning's 12DP5DT.
Talk about total confusion. Today's test is blazing in comparison. And I had to dip it in a cup of pee that looked like fruit punch - it was so red. Sorry if TMI, but this is what I'm dealing with.
I am afraid. Please pray for my baby.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
Beta Hell
My beta was 32.
I have to go back in on Wednesday to have my numbers rechecked.
They wanted them to be above 50.
This is what they call beta hell.
I am in it.
I have to go back in on Wednesday to have my numbers rechecked.
They wanted them to be above 50.
This is what they call beta hell.
I am in it.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
I Am Still Alive
After not posting for over a week, I want to let you all know that I am alive and well. I was a terrible ICLWer and am so ashamed of my shoddy performance when it came to commenting and responding back to my commentors blogs. *hangs head in shame*
I went back east this past Saturday through Tuesday and lent some support to my friend whose dad is dying. He is still hanging on and is getting moved to Hospice tomorrow. For his sake, I pray he goes quickly. The man has fought hard for two years. He deserves some peace. The whole trip has left me feeling a little disconnected from my IVF cycle. I am still trucking through my Lupron and my Lupron induced AF showed on Sunday (Yikes! Holy bleed-a-thon!) but I feel so distracted at this point in the game, I find myself thinking about cancer and caskets instead of nursery colors and baby names. Talk about a 180, huh?
Yesterday, I had my suppression check and everything is great. My lining was thin (really doc, I've been bleeding like a stuck hog for days, I kinda knew that already), ovaries are looking good with no cysts, and my estrogen is 38 (anything below 50 is good). I am officially suppressed. Which means only one thing:
Follistim and Menopur, here I come!!!!!!
I went back east this past Saturday through Tuesday and lent some support to my friend whose dad is dying. He is still hanging on and is getting moved to Hospice tomorrow. For his sake, I pray he goes quickly. The man has fought hard for two years. He deserves some peace. The whole trip has left me feeling a little disconnected from my IVF cycle. I am still trucking through my Lupron and my Lupron induced AF showed on Sunday (Yikes! Holy bleed-a-thon!) but I feel so distracted at this point in the game, I find myself thinking about cancer and caskets instead of nursery colors and baby names. Talk about a 180, huh?
Yesterday, I had my suppression check and everything is great. My lining was thin (really doc, I've been bleeding like a stuck hog for days, I kinda knew that already), ovaries are looking good with no cysts, and my estrogen is 38 (anything below 50 is good). I am officially suppressed. Which means only one thing:
Follistim and Menopur, here I come!!!!!!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Frozen In Time
I feel frozen in time. There is nothing going on here. Not as far as TTC is concerned. I am STILL waiting for my meds to get here, if you can believe that. I waited all day Friday for them to arrive and finally called the pharmacy to see what was up and the woman informed me that she did not send them. She did not send the medicine I waited all day to sign for. She did not send them. She did not call to say she did not send them. Nope. So she sent them yesterday. So I wait today. And she sent my Follistim to someone else and now she's out of that. So another day in the upcoming week or so, I'll have to wait for that too.
Although, we are suspended in time over here, we are not without big decisions to make. We need to decide how many of my eggs we are going to fertilize. I know, most people would answer, "As many as you can, crazy!!" but we need to play this IVF very conservatively. DH and I are setting out to complete our family and we are not down with having frozen embies. We keep going back and forth about what to do, but we feel like we (hopefully) have a good plan in place for now. We are going to get as many eggs as possible, but Dr. Awesome RE recommended we only fertilize four at a time. The rest of the eggs, we will freeze and IF our cycle fails, we can thaw out and fertilize more eggs, but if it is a success, we will simply have the eggs destroyed. This decision is hard to make. Lots of personal beliefs and morals come into play and it all comes down to what DH and I feel comfortable with doing.
The only question that remains is wondering if fertilizing four is enough? I worry that maybe that is too few? There are people out there that get twenty plus eggs, fertilize ten of them and still only end up with two to transfer. Ugh.
Why is IF so hard??
Why in the hell do we have to think of stuff like this?
My brain hurts.
Although, we are suspended in time over here, we are not without big decisions to make. We need to decide how many of my eggs we are going to fertilize. I know, most people would answer, "As many as you can, crazy!!" but we need to play this IVF very conservatively. DH and I are setting out to complete our family and we are not down with having frozen embies. We keep going back and forth about what to do, but we feel like we (hopefully) have a good plan in place for now. We are going to get as many eggs as possible, but Dr. Awesome RE recommended we only fertilize four at a time. The rest of the eggs, we will freeze and IF our cycle fails, we can thaw out and fertilize more eggs, but if it is a success, we will simply have the eggs destroyed. This decision is hard to make. Lots of personal beliefs and morals come into play and it all comes down to what DH and I feel comfortable with doing.
The only question that remains is wondering if fertilizing four is enough? I worry that maybe that is too few? There are people out there that get twenty plus eggs, fertilize ten of them and still only end up with two to transfer. Ugh.
Why is IF so hard??
Why in the hell do we have to think of stuff like this?
My brain hurts.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Solitary Confinement and One Woman's Quest for a Shower
This whole snowed in thing has certainly lost its appeal. I'm finding myself sinking lower and lower into a state of self-pity that can only be remedied by a meal OUTSIDE THIS HOUSE. The problem is, I require a shower to go anywhere public. "Just jump in," you suggest? I can't. I'm waiting for Mr. UPS guy to deliver my injectibles. As these things usually go, I get in the shower and DING DONG! So, I wait. DH isn't going to be pleased if I'm not ready to go when he gets here, but what can I do? I'm stuck!
With all this wonderful time inside, I've been reading Pictures of You by Caroline Leavitt and the main character, Isabelle Stein, is...yep....infertile. The issue of her infertility is but a small detail in the whole story, but it looms always. Her want for a child, her need to fulfill her maternal instinct is palpable. A particular passage resonated with me and chilled me to the bone:
Isabelle knew this phenomenon. Be tortured by something and the world was sure to serve it up to you. Since she had moved to New York, she saw mothers and sons everywhere on the street. She could be in an empty movie theater and a parent with a child was sure to sit in the row right in front of her.
Be tortured by something and the world is sure to serve it up to you. Isn't that the truth? I want to be pregnant and since we moved to Oklahoma almost six months ago, I've been stalked by pregnancy from everywhere from the grocery store to the "fertility feed" on facebook. I want my parents, but they are too far away. I see mothers and daughters lunching and it stings like a slap. I want a friend and yet there's no one. I have acquaintances. I want an honest-to-goodness friend. I want to be me and say what I want and for them to know the real me isn't in the frustrations that I vent or the sarcasms that I speak. Every time I go out, I see friends together. They are shopping or lunching or working out together and it tortures me that I haven't a kindred spirit in this time zone.
I am trying to prepare myself for a huge endeavor in this IVF cycle. This is one of those colossal undertakings that typically require a support group the size of your restaurant "large party" table. I have my husband to lean on. And when the hormones kick in I'm probably the last person he'll want to be around, not that he understands the ins and outs of the female brain without the influence of hormonal medicinal rage, but you can't put a price tag on a good girlfriend.
I want to feel settled.
I want to feel home.
I want to feel like I belong.
I guess I'll settle for the dinner out tonight. I still really need that shower, though.
With all this wonderful time inside, I've been reading Pictures of You by Caroline Leavitt and the main character, Isabelle Stein, is...yep....infertile. The issue of her infertility is but a small detail in the whole story, but it looms always. Her want for a child, her need to fulfill her maternal instinct is palpable. A particular passage resonated with me and chilled me to the bone:
Isabelle knew this phenomenon. Be tortured by something and the world was sure to serve it up to you. Since she had moved to New York, she saw mothers and sons everywhere on the street. She could be in an empty movie theater and a parent with a child was sure to sit in the row right in front of her.
Be tortured by something and the world is sure to serve it up to you. Isn't that the truth? I want to be pregnant and since we moved to Oklahoma almost six months ago, I've been stalked by pregnancy from everywhere from the grocery store to the "fertility feed" on facebook. I want my parents, but they are too far away. I see mothers and daughters lunching and it stings like a slap. I want a friend and yet there's no one. I have acquaintances. I want an honest-to-goodness friend. I want to be me and say what I want and for them to know the real me isn't in the frustrations that I vent or the sarcasms that I speak. Every time I go out, I see friends together. They are shopping or lunching or working out together and it tortures me that I haven't a kindred spirit in this time zone.
I am trying to prepare myself for a huge endeavor in this IVF cycle. This is one of those colossal undertakings that typically require a support group the size of your restaurant "large party" table. I have my husband to lean on. And when the hormones kick in I'm probably the last person he'll want to be around, not that he understands the ins and outs of the female brain without the influence of hormonal medicinal rage, but you can't put a price tag on a good girlfriend.
I want to feel settled.
I want to feel home.
I want to feel like I belong.
I guess I'll settle for the dinner out tonight. I still really need that shower, though.
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