July 30, 2010
Last night S and I were visiting my parents and I did what I always do when I’m there…I weighed myself. S and I have a scale but we don’t keep it out, and so my parents’ scale right next to the toilet in the bathroom is always too tempting to resist.
I should have resisted.
I officially weigh more than I ever have – and that’s including when I was living in Ireland eating potatoes and chocolate like it was my job. I had already known that I was getting up there, but this was a real wake up call. I have been taking Bailey on some extra long walks and trying to watch what I eat lately – which usually is enough to help me drop at least a pound or two – but clearly that’s not going to be enough this time around.
I somehow have to find the energy to consistently work out, which also means fighting through my depression and my general feeling of not caring. I did manage to do some pilates and ab exercises this afternoon and am planning to take Bailey for a long walk once it cools off tonight, but the question is really whether I can stick with it long enough to regain the habit. I used to love working out, but it has been so long that it feels impossible.
This from someone who has two best friends currently at a work out weekend – 8 (or 9?) workouts in three days! J and J, will you dedicate a few of those to me? 😉
But seriously, if we’re going to have even the slightest shot at getting pregnant, I HAVE to get back in shape.
July 29, 2010
The past two nights (early mornings really) I have had the STRANGEST dreams. I never remember my dreams so I’m always surprised when I do, and these were extra surprising because they were very SENSUAL dreams. I’m not even going to get into the details because they were too WEIRD, but seriously, what a waste! Why couldn’t I have saved those moods for my waking hours? 😉
I wonder if it’s the BC pills…?
July 28, 2010
Before I get into the details of what was an epic meltdown yesterday (and apologies in advance, this is a doozy of a post), I should say that I have been feeling extra raw lately…like at any moment I might break into hysterical laughter, or hysterical tears. Last Friday was a very down day that culminated in a mini-meltdown Friday night. The weekend was saved by lots of busyness and some time with friends, and I really did feel better by Monday.
Then yesterday arrived – along with a scheduled appointment at the RE’s – and everything went downhill in a handbasket.
Yesterday’s appointment was for a Pap smear and other regular cultures, along with a hysteroscopy (camera in the ‘ole uterus). I had done all of these tests last September, but since our next IVF won’t be complete by the time we reach the year anniversary, I had to get everything re-done (required by insurance). The hysteroscopy is one of the few tests that really are not pleasant and I just was NOT looking forward to it.
Fast forward to my arrival at the office where the nurse tells me, “hold on and let me give you a cup to take to the bathroom with you. we need to do a pregnancy test before the procedure.” I almost lost it right there in the hallway. I mean, I’ve had to do this before, but for some reason, it really bothered me this time. I guess the thoughts that I’ve been increasingly having that I might NEVER be pregnant, and the futility of it all just smacked me upside the face. So I did my business and after waiting another 15 minutes for them to reset the room they wanted me in, I was suited up and ready to face the music.
A new (to me) doctor walked in, introduced himself and asked how I was doing. I said “I’ve been better, but thank you for asking.” He asked what was wrong and I said “I just feel like this is a farce.” He misunderstood me, thinking that I just didn’t like the amount of tests they had to do and all of the setup required (when really I was talking about IF treatments in general), and started talking through the process.
After going over the plans and reading through the potential consequences of the procedure (which I had to sign off on), he looked up at me and said “you really don’t want to be here, do you?” I said to him “this is my fourth (really fifth) IVF and I’m just DONE” and promptly teared up. This to a nice young doctor who I had never even met before! I have to give him credit, he was actually super nice…gave me a really sympathetic look and rubbed my knee.
So we moved on from there, he distracted me with a very nice conversation and things seemed to be going fine…until he literally could NOT get past my cervix into my uterus. I mean, I have been through a lot of pain over the past several years, but this was probably the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced without pain medication at the ready. Then, right in the middle of him fighting with my cervix, another doctor walks in (I seriously hate their team approach!) and tells him he’s just going to have to push through and tells me “this might be a little crampy.” Are you F-ING kidding me?!?!? I guess they don’t know me from a hole in the wall, but I have a pretty high pain tolerance, so for me to be closing my eyes, biting my lip, and holding my forehead means that WE’RE ALREADY PAST CRAMPY BITCH!
They finally got in and told me that my uterus looked “great,” which I could have told them (fat lot of good that has ever done me), and ended the torture. I managed to get dressed, paid for parking and got into my car before I literally LOST IT. Called S but was crying so hard that I was afraid to be driving, so I hung up with him. Then I decided that I really did want to talk to somebody, so I called one of my good friends and choked out the whole story to her. I know that it probably doesn’t seem like this should have set off such a nuclear reaction, but I guess it was something about the first procedure post realization that this might really not work.
I just feel like I have been through so much – so much pain, so much discomfort, so much just not feeling like myself – and the thought of doing it all again and having it not work, knowing that it probably won’t work, just feels like torture. After IVF #2, when I ended up in the hospital with internal bleeding, I told S that I would do anything to get pregnant. And I still would. If someone told me that I had to do this ten more times, but that at the end of it I would be pregnant, I’d do it. But the thought that this is all in vain is almost more than I can take.
I never thought that I would be this person – this depressed, this hopeless, this stuck between a rock and a hard place – and I just don’t know how to get past it. I’m sorry if that sounds melodramatic…I know that my experiences don’t come close to those that others have faced (we have a dear friend facing cancer at 30 and I just can’t even fathom), but I’m really starting to feel like I’ve reached the end of my rope.
I don’t want to do another cycle, but I equally don’t want to NOT. I don’t even want to take a break! And I know that makes no sense…
I’m sick of feeling fat (okay, I know I’m not fat, but just think how you would feel if you had been permanently bloated for four years) and having no $ex drive, and I’m sick of being sad. I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.
But more than anything, I’m sick of wanting something that I can’t have.
July 26, 2010
I just spent the last 2 hours looking for crib bedding to match this wall color.
- no animals (jungle or otherwise)
- gender neutral
- integrating bright green (NOT sage green)
The closest I’ve found is this one, currently not in stock ANYWHERE!
Let’s set aside the fact that I am not pregnant, and may not ever be. For some reason, I am now OBSESSED with finding the perfect bedding set.
There’s actually a separate story behind the paint color but I’ll save that for another day… I’ve got to go try and get some work done today!
July 21, 2010
Last night I started BC pills for our upcoming (and last?) IVF cycle. I have to be on the pills for 6 weeks (to regulate my hormone levels) before even starting the Lupron, so right now we’re targeting mid-September for retrieval and transfer.
Exhibit A why I can’t just forget and “relax” – two months of varying and increasing meds before we even have a chance at being pregnant.
I’m glad that I won’t be dealing with shots or fake drinking at my company’s sales meeting in August, but I just wish I didn’t have to go through all of this again.
I’m in this weird place right now where I don’t really feel hopeful, but I’m not ready to move on. Hopefully I’ll be able to get excited at some point over the next two months…
July 20, 2010
Last night, an emergency alert came across the television announcing a TORNADO warning in Massachusetts, that was headed for OUR TOWN in approximately 17 minutes.
In case you missed that the first time…yes, I said a TORNADO…in MASSACHUSETTS. What?!?!?
Although it wasn’t even raining at that point, it was clear that some sort of storm was coming through (very dark and ominous), so S and I made a big production out of battening (sp?) down the hatches, turned off the ACs, lit a few candles and then sat down on the couch to watch the news and our front windows.
The best part of the whole thing? That as the newscasters counted down the minutes ’til the storm moved into town, S and I jokingly gave each other a smooch and then toasted with big double margaritas. 😛 We may as well go out in style, right?
And after all that, nothing happened (thank goodness!) except for the period of five minutes where the thunder and lightening was RIGHT OVER OUR HOUSE. Seriously. I even screamed and jumped at one point and I LOVE a good lightening storm.
At least it was a good distraction for the evening, right? 😉
July 19, 2010
Wow, a lot has happened since my last real post. I’ve been trying to keep myself insanely busy so that I don’t have the time or energy to think or feel…but it’s not really working. The minute I stop GOING, I feel sad and anxious again. I’m constantly surprised – and not in a good way – by the depth of the emotion I’m feeling this time around.
I’m really not enjoying how I’m feeling right now, so I’ve been trying to do everything I can think of to get myself in a better place. Last Monday I had my first in-person meeting with the infertility therapist, and then on Saturday I went to meet with the priest that married us. Both were extremely helpful and wonderful conversations, although I still have a long ways to go on both fronts.
Some of the key takeaways, from Ellen:
- I need to allow myself to grieve…not only the potential loss of biological children but the loss of how I’ve always seen myself and what I thought my life would be. I told Ellen that I’m having a hard time dealing with how sad I’m feeling – I literally NEVER used to cry (which is a whole post in and of itself) – and now I cry all the time. She explained that there has been research done that shows the only thing more devastating than infertility is the loss of an existing child, and I need to cut myself some slack.
- I have to protect myself. Apparently infertility has a lot in common with post-traumatic stress disorder in that sometimes you can be perfectly fine, and other times the sadness can come crashing down out of nowhere. I need to be able to say no if I don’t feel comfortable and shouldn’t feel guilty about not being able to do what I used to/would like to do.
- Since I’ve been relatively open about what we’re going through, I have a responsibility to tell people what I want them to do/say/etc. I’ve been upset lately by some people (not my closest friends, but more than acquaintances) mentioning adoption in conjunction with taking a break from treatments and just “relaxing”…and getting pregnant. Ellen pointed out that the underlying message there is that I’ve been doing something wrong throughout this process…as she said, stress doesn’t cause infertility, but infertility certainly causes stress. One thing that she said that I really liked is to ask people not to try and find a solution but just to “join me in my sadness.” If there is a solution that can be found, that is between S and I, our doctors, and God…but for now, I just need people to tell me how much this all sucks. (P.S. All of my IRL friends who read this blog already have the right idea. ;-))
My former priest, Fr. Chris, also had some valuable words of wisdom:
- It’s understandable, and okay, not to want to pray. That maybe the best I can do right now is to say “God, help me want to want to pray”
- It’s okay to be angry, and okay to pass that anger on to God. He can handle it.
- God doesn’t keep score. I told Fr. Chris that sometimes I feel like I’ve used up all of my luck by meeting Shane and getting married so early, and he literally LAUGHED at me. 😛
- That at the end of the day, God’s will will be done, so I need to work towards accepting that. It sounds harsh, but he didn’t mean it that way…it’s just the truth. Fr. Chris talked a lot about adoption (after acknowledging that if he were me, he’d be sad and angry as well) and about families who “can’t” get pregnant but have 2, 3, 4+ kids post-adoption. He approached the conversation in such a way that I really didn’t take offense, and made a cute comment about how he sometimes thinks that pregnancy post-adoption is God’s way of saying “thank you for taking care of one of my children who needed you.” He also reminded me that (even though I hate this phrase) I’m still young, and who’s to say that God’s plan doesn’t include biological children in 5, 10, 15 years.
All in all, I have a long way to go towards resolving my emotions, but I think I’ve made a few important steps forward. As crazy as it sounds, I don’t really want to stop feeling sad, because that feels like I will have officially given up the hope of ever having biological children…but somehow, I have to find a middle ground that brings me back to myself a bit…
July 14, 2010
Wow, I’m a terrible blogger. Not only is my content depressing, but I can’t even manage to post on a regular basis!
I have been trying to keep up with my blog reading, but the little self-preservation bubble that I’m currently living in unfortunately precludes commenting…I’m sorry friends. 😦
I’m also in the middle of an insane work project with a Friday deadline, so just bear with me for a few more days and I’ll try to come back with something interesting over the weekend.