Fuck you universe. Fuck. You.
I think I have dealt admirably with everything life has thrown at me in 31 years. And I have learned to move on, to heal, to make do, and to find the good in truly shitty situations. And I have been so happy ever since M and I committed ourselves to adopting, no matter the pain that came before and which still lingers a little. We are planning, we are saving, we are staying positive.
So why are we being punished with a broken car? Hm? What fucking lesson am I still learning that necessitated this new problem? I have sucked it up and said "okay" to the outrageous idea that just because I can't squeeze out my own offspring, that it is justifiable I be saddled with a $30,000 price tag for having a family (heaven forbid we decide we want 2 kids!). And if that price is 100% necessary, why can’t I fucking catch a break in the rest of my life so that I don’t have to feel like I am choosing between a safe/reliable car for M or having a goddamn family? Not many people are “blessed” with that particular challenge. Lucky. Fucking. Us.
We *were* on track to be done saving after this year. We *were* going to be able to pursue adoption without digging ourselves into bedrock, financially. But no, that's just too good, too kind of God. Clearly we needed this journey to be HARDER, because dammit, it hasn't been enough of a challenge. We were finding *way* too much joy in this pursuit. It should break us. Then we might deserve to reach the other end of the rainbow.
It's not just the addition of a new monthly loan payment that upsets me, though that will drastically restrict our ability to save within our anticipated time-frame. Its that we will have to *take* money already saved and use it for this, instead of for our FUTURE CHILD.
I hate and despise everything today and there are no words to make it better. I will calm down, I have to for M's sake, but right now I get to be as fucking pissed off as I want because this is NOT FAIR.
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
February 11, 2015
November 12, 2014
Agency Visits
I enjoyed the traumatic experience of calling adoption agencies on my lunch break last Friday. All I wanted to do was schedule a sit-down with someone at 3 different agencies to go over some questions I need answered before we can choose an agency to work with. Nope, sorry, doesn't work like that. At City A's agency we *have* to attend a structured orientation session with a bunch of other couples in the evening. At City B's agency, they do everything over the phone because "isn't that so much more convenient than taking a half or whole day off to come down for an appointment?". City C's agency, fortunately, was all “of course we can do that! Would you like to leave a voicemail and she’ll call you back or you can schedule it all through email.” Really? I can have my private, face-to-face appointment? You aren't going to force me into a situation I don’t want to be in and certainly isn't the best way for us to ask/process information? That is so novel…
I have already had to grieve the loss of control over almost every facet of family building, just let me ask my damn questions the way I want to! In person, in private! This is *such* a big decision, possibly the biggest of our lives. I want to meet these people in person, get a feel for their personality etc., if we are going to be working with them and trusting them to help us over the next 2 years - I need to know if I can feel at ease with them. I want to meet them in private because this is so personal. My IF doctor didn't have me come to a group class to learn about IVF and I feel this should be treated the same way. I have very particular questions I want answered. I have already educated myself *A LOT* about adoption and these 3 agencies, I just need to check off a few very specific questions and I can make my decision. I don't want to sit through "Adoption for Dummies" for an hour on a week night after driving 45 minutes home from work and then 30 more minutes to the agency (in rush hour traffic no less :-P) . Plus, even though I know I am in a pretty good place of having dealt with my IF grief, I also know there are some things that can still bring me to tears - particularly in a high stress environment (another reason I wanted control over when the appointment was, so I could be as much at ease as possible). I prefer my privacy to deal with my emotions rather than being in a big group setting.
The group info session in City A is tonight. I'm not really looking forward to it simply because of the logistics to get there on time making me anxious. I would have much preferred scheduling something during the day and taking time off from work to eliminate outside stressors. I would love to be proven wrong about how unhelpful this will be. I would love to be blown away and so happy with their presentation - Mmmm, crow!
We have decided to interview 1 agency a week, so next week we will visit the agency in City C - the one that didn't act like I was crazy for wanting to sit down one on one with someone. Right now, they are my favorite agency based on their website and info packet. Unfortunately, they are also the farthest away. The other 2 agencies are between 30 and 45 minutes from our house. City C is at least an hour if not more :-/ But you know what, if they make us feel the most comfortable and their methods match our concerns, then I will happily burn those miles.
::deep breath:: Here we go...
I have already had to grieve the loss of control over almost every facet of family building, just let me ask my damn questions the way I want to! In person, in private! This is *such* a big decision, possibly the biggest of our lives. I want to meet these people in person, get a feel for their personality etc., if we are going to be working with them and trusting them to help us over the next 2 years - I need to know if I can feel at ease with them. I want to meet them in private because this is so personal. My IF doctor didn't have me come to a group class to learn about IVF and I feel this should be treated the same way. I have very particular questions I want answered. I have already educated myself *A LOT* about adoption and these 3 agencies, I just need to check off a few very specific questions and I can make my decision. I don't want to sit through "Adoption for Dummies" for an hour on a week night after driving 45 minutes home from work and then 30 more minutes to the agency (in rush hour traffic no less :-P) . Plus, even though I know I am in a pretty good place of having dealt with my IF grief, I also know there are some things that can still bring me to tears - particularly in a high stress environment (another reason I wanted control over when the appointment was, so I could be as much at ease as possible). I prefer my privacy to deal with my emotions rather than being in a big group setting.
The group info session in City A is tonight. I'm not really looking forward to it simply because of the logistics to get there on time making me anxious. I would have much preferred scheduling something during the day and taking time off from work to eliminate outside stressors. I would love to be proven wrong about how unhelpful this will be. I would love to be blown away and so happy with their presentation - Mmmm, crow!
We have decided to interview 1 agency a week, so next week we will visit the agency in City C - the one that didn't act like I was crazy for wanting to sit down one on one with someone. Right now, they are my favorite agency based on their website and info packet. Unfortunately, they are also the farthest away. The other 2 agencies are between 30 and 45 minutes from our house. City C is at least an hour if not more :-/ But you know what, if they make us feel the most comfortable and their methods match our concerns, then I will happily burn those miles.
::deep breath:: Here we go...
July 21, 2014
Rug. Pull. Pain.
I don't even know where to start with this rant - I'm so confused and angry. Briefly: for two glorious weeks, M and I were led to believe that he would be receiving a hefty promotion. Something beyond our wildest dreams that would allow us to pay off student loans and save for adoption much faster than we'd hoped. Today, the bottom dropped out of that dream.
The sum up of the situation is that M is getting a promotion. He has greatly increased responsibilities, including supervising 3 employees. And he did get a raise in salary, however it falls short of the original figure M was floated by nearly $20K. That's the rug pull.
The facilities manager at M's work put in his 2 week notice at the end of May and the company decided to cannibalize his job rather than hire in someone for the exact same position. Part of his job, supervision of a specific area of the facility, was passed on to M. He was told about this additional responsibility and started doing the job over a month ago. Without a formal offer. With no knowledge about how they were going to promote him, what his new title would be, or what they would compensate him. But they were "working on it".
Three weeks after M was already doing the job, he finally had a meeting with HR. They still did not have a formal offer prepared for him, but they could tell him some basics: what his new title would be and what pay class their offer was being based on. The minimum salary in the pay class he was told was about $25K more than he was currently earning. We were dumbfounded. We didn't know what to do. We could finally pay off the student loans. Adoption would absolutely be within our reach. It was scary. It was wonderful.
It was a lie.
Two weeks after this meeting, today: the offer was finally in writing. FINALLY. M has been doing this job without formally being offered it for over a month. The promotion doesn't go into effect for another 2 weeks. The pay is nothing like he was told. To me, knowing how hard he works and how much more he is going to have to work now, the pay is a step above a slap in the face. Plus, he qualified for overtime pay in his "old" position and his "new" position is fully salary, so no overtime no matter how many hours he works.
I don't think I would be quite as upset as I am if HR had not told him a figure that was either patently false, or not set in stone. Who does that? Who waves a huge carrot and then snatches it away with no explanation? Yes, the number they told him was above and beyond anything we hoped for, but the truth fell so very short of how much I thought they valued him. I was terrified they would low-ball him and that is exactly what they did - *after* they lied and made it seem like he was getting an *amazing* promotion. Two gut punches, one right after the other. If their "real" offer had been $10K less than what we were told 2 weeks ago, I wouldn't have been upset at all. It was a number I thought was within reach if they really valued M.
I am thankful M has a job. I am thankful there is some upward mobility at his facility. I am thankful that the money we are earning right now is more than sufficient for us to live on. We are not struggling. I recognize that these are each things that many people our age don't have. Even with college degrees. We are extremely fortunate. I just wish we had never been lied to. I wish the "dream salary" had never been told to us. I wish we had been told from the start, *way* back at the beginning of June, just what this promotion would entail and the "value" that his employers placed on that work.
I am going to pray for perspective, and patience, and calm. To be thankful for the small advance that we have made. To let this go and just move forward. But today it is raw and new and I just want to punch someone for messing with us.
The sum up of the situation is that M is getting a promotion. He has greatly increased responsibilities, including supervising 3 employees. And he did get a raise in salary, however it falls short of the original figure M was floated by nearly $20K. That's the rug pull.
The facilities manager at M's work put in his 2 week notice at the end of May and the company decided to cannibalize his job rather than hire in someone for the exact same position. Part of his job, supervision of a specific area of the facility, was passed on to M. He was told about this additional responsibility and started doing the job over a month ago. Without a formal offer. With no knowledge about how they were going to promote him, what his new title would be, or what they would compensate him. But they were "working on it".
Three weeks after M was already doing the job, he finally had a meeting with HR. They still did not have a formal offer prepared for him, but they could tell him some basics: what his new title would be and what pay class their offer was being based on. The minimum salary in the pay class he was told was about $25K more than he was currently earning. We were dumbfounded. We didn't know what to do. We could finally pay off the student loans. Adoption would absolutely be within our reach. It was scary. It was wonderful.
It was a lie.
Two weeks after this meeting, today: the offer was finally in writing. FINALLY. M has been doing this job without formally being offered it for over a month. The promotion doesn't go into effect for another 2 weeks. The pay is nothing like he was told. To me, knowing how hard he works and how much more he is going to have to work now, the pay is a step above a slap in the face. Plus, he qualified for overtime pay in his "old" position and his "new" position is fully salary, so no overtime no matter how many hours he works.
I don't think I would be quite as upset as I am if HR had not told him a figure that was either patently false, or not set in stone. Who does that? Who waves a huge carrot and then snatches it away with no explanation? Yes, the number they told him was above and beyond anything we hoped for, but the truth fell so very short of how much I thought they valued him. I was terrified they would low-ball him and that is exactly what they did - *after* they lied and made it seem like he was getting an *amazing* promotion. Two gut punches, one right after the other. If their "real" offer had been $10K less than what we were told 2 weeks ago, I wouldn't have been upset at all. It was a number I thought was within reach if they really valued M.
I am thankful M has a job. I am thankful there is some upward mobility at his facility. I am thankful that the money we are earning right now is more than sufficient for us to live on. We are not struggling. I recognize that these are each things that many people our age don't have. Even with college degrees. We are extremely fortunate. I just wish we had never been lied to. I wish the "dream salary" had never been told to us. I wish we had been told from the start, *way* back at the beginning of June, just what this promotion would entail and the "value" that his employers placed on that work.
I am going to pray for perspective, and patience, and calm. To be thankful for the small advance that we have made. To let this go and just move forward. But today it is raw and new and I just want to punch someone for messing with us.
May 21, 2014
The Internet is my Best Friend and my Worst Enemy
No problem is unsolvable. No question cannot be answered. You are never the only person in the history of the world to come upon a certain issue. As my favorite fictional FBI agent, Dana Scully, would say "The answers are there, you just have to know where to look."
So of course I am researching adoption *to death*. And the internet makes researching any topic so easy because more information than you could find in a whole library is right at your fingertips - just a quick Google search away.
However, the internet contains a lot of...noise, for lack of a better word. I had no idea how many different communities and schools of thought there are on the topic of adoption. And in some of those groups, emotions run high. Particularly adult adoptees and birth mothers. Now, I am desperate for the knowledge I can gain by reading adoptee narratives. Adoptees are the ones in the "adoption triad" (am I using that right?) most impacted by the adoption process - the early loss, a life of feeling different or "other". I get that, which is why I want to see the process from their eyes.
You might be surprised how hard it is to find adoptee narratives. Way harder than finding the chronicles of adoptive parents. There are many, complicated reasons for why this might be, but regardless, it is a reality that is making my search more difficult. And there is only so much help I can glean from an adoptive parent explaining how they deal with questions about adoption and race. I'm more interested in how the adopted person deals with those questions on their own and how their parents provided the tools to do that in a healthy way. That's something that only an adoptee can explain. But here's another road block: the internet often serves as a safe space for nothing but negative, unproductive talk.
In my desperate search, I reach out and immediately cling to *any* adoptee writing. And there is a lot of negative writing coming from adult adoptees on the internet. Some of what they say resonates with me - validating the lack of the adoptee perspective from the mainstream adoption rhetoric, the suffering related to old, closed adoption practices, the importance of confronting racism and prejudice with transracial adoptees. But there is so much more to these adoptees' writings that scares me. Pointing out every word and action prescribed by other adoption communities and basically ranting "wrong wrong wrong!" "as an adoptee, that offends me!" It is terror inducing because the words and actions they are picking apart are things that sounded perfectly acceptable and appropriately sensitive to me. For example, one of the websites I found tore apart a popular "What not to say to an adoptive family" video. According to a collective of adoptees, everything in the video was wrong and the adoptive father who made it is a terrible, ignorant person. I was shocked!
But who am I to question the adoptees' perspective and opinions? What the hell do I know? I pride myself on my critical thinking and reading skills - always questioning information that is presented as "fact" but doesn't back itself up with objective evidence. You can't really do that when it comes to something as personal as the adoptee perspective. And my initial reaction to the negative views by adoptees is pretty much "Well, that is a valid opinion and I am recoiling from it because it challenges my pre-conceived notions. I cannot reject this information outright or I won't learn anything."
But honestly, what is there to learn? In the whole of the article about the video, no one made useful suggestions for what could have made the video better. At best there were vague, general ideas offered, such as "This video is focused solely on the adoptive parent when really the questions are all about the adoptee. The adoptee should always be considered and involved in dealing with these situations!" Ummm....okay, but how do you meaningfully involve a *3 year old* in the situations that the video discussed?? No help there, the comment did not elaborate. That is beyond frustrating for me. You can't just tear apart something that is done with every good intention, call it ignorant, and then not supply guidance for how it can be corrected or done better. That's just not helpful!
I am so frustrated to know that I am asking the right questions (for example, how do I know that the trans-racial adoption process does not damage the adoptee?), seeking knowledge and information from the appropriate sources (namely, seeking out adoptee narratives rather than adoptive parent reports of how children adapt), and yet still not finding the guidance that I need. There are so many opposing views about adoption and I can't believe how difficult it is to wade through the muck and discover the truth!
I have gotten so fed up with the wild west of the internet that I turned to my university's library for academic, objective resources. I have ten or so peer-reviewed articles to read about various aspects of transracial adoption. At least if there is any negativity in them, they will point back to specific data that provides a "why" or a "how" for the claim. The only other resource I have found that hasn't made me want to scream is the book Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew by Sherrie Eldridge.
If all this frustration and questioning leads me to be a better adoptive parent, I hope I will consider this madness worthwhile.
So of course I am researching adoption *to death*. And the internet makes researching any topic so easy because more information than you could find in a whole library is right at your fingertips - just a quick Google search away.
However, the internet contains a lot of...noise, for lack of a better word. I had no idea how many different communities and schools of thought there are on the topic of adoption. And in some of those groups, emotions run high. Particularly adult adoptees and birth mothers. Now, I am desperate for the knowledge I can gain by reading adoptee narratives. Adoptees are the ones in the "adoption triad" (am I using that right?) most impacted by the adoption process - the early loss, a life of feeling different or "other". I get that, which is why I want to see the process from their eyes.
You might be surprised how hard it is to find adoptee narratives. Way harder than finding the chronicles of adoptive parents. There are many, complicated reasons for why this might be, but regardless, it is a reality that is making my search more difficult. And there is only so much help I can glean from an adoptive parent explaining how they deal with questions about adoption and race. I'm more interested in how the adopted person deals with those questions on their own and how their parents provided the tools to do that in a healthy way. That's something that only an adoptee can explain. But here's another road block: the internet often serves as a safe space for nothing but negative, unproductive talk.
In my desperate search, I reach out and immediately cling to *any* adoptee writing. And there is a lot of negative writing coming from adult adoptees on the internet. Some of what they say resonates with me - validating the lack of the adoptee perspective from the mainstream adoption rhetoric, the suffering related to old, closed adoption practices, the importance of confronting racism and prejudice with transracial adoptees. But there is so much more to these adoptees' writings that scares me. Pointing out every word and action prescribed by other adoption communities and basically ranting "wrong wrong wrong!" "as an adoptee, that offends me!" It is terror inducing because the words and actions they are picking apart are things that sounded perfectly acceptable and appropriately sensitive to me. For example, one of the websites I found tore apart a popular "What not to say to an adoptive family" video. According to a collective of adoptees, everything in the video was wrong and the adoptive father who made it is a terrible, ignorant person. I was shocked!
But who am I to question the adoptees' perspective and opinions? What the hell do I know? I pride myself on my critical thinking and reading skills - always questioning information that is presented as "fact" but doesn't back itself up with objective evidence. You can't really do that when it comes to something as personal as the adoptee perspective. And my initial reaction to the negative views by adoptees is pretty much "Well, that is a valid opinion and I am recoiling from it because it challenges my pre-conceived notions. I cannot reject this information outright or I won't learn anything."
But honestly, what is there to learn? In the whole of the article about the video, no one made useful suggestions for what could have made the video better. At best there were vague, general ideas offered, such as "This video is focused solely on the adoptive parent when really the questions are all about the adoptee. The adoptee should always be considered and involved in dealing with these situations!" Ummm....okay, but how do you meaningfully involve a *3 year old* in the situations that the video discussed?? No help there, the comment did not elaborate. That is beyond frustrating for me. You can't just tear apart something that is done with every good intention, call it ignorant, and then not supply guidance for how it can be corrected or done better. That's just not helpful!
I am so frustrated to know that I am asking the right questions (for example, how do I know that the trans-racial adoption process does not damage the adoptee?), seeking knowledge and information from the appropriate sources (namely, seeking out adoptee narratives rather than adoptive parent reports of how children adapt), and yet still not finding the guidance that I need. There are so many opposing views about adoption and I can't believe how difficult it is to wade through the muck and discover the truth!
I have gotten so fed up with the wild west of the internet that I turned to my university's library for academic, objective resources. I have ten or so peer-reviewed articles to read about various aspects of transracial adoption. At least if there is any negativity in them, they will point back to specific data that provides a "why" or a "how" for the claim. The only other resource I have found that hasn't made me want to scream is the book Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew by Sherrie Eldridge.
If all this frustration and questioning leads me to be a better adoptive parent, I hope I will consider this madness worthwhile.
August 19, 2013
The Long, Dark Tea Time of the Soul
Props to anyone who knows the reference in the title ;-)
This is going to be.... an unholy mess of a post, apologies.
Had my mid-cycle ultrasound today. The front-runner follicle was 14mm. I have no idea what the next closest few were. It doesn't matter. Last cycle at this time a had a 17 and two 16's - as if that did me any good; still not pregnant. They asked that I come in for another ultrasound later in the week. Just in case. They don't want to tell me to trigger and all that when maybe nothing will happen. Oh yeah, cause that would suck - going to *all that trouble* and then nothing happens...
Oh wait - that's every cycle. It doesn't matter if I had gold star follies. Doesn't matter if M's sample had record numbers. NOTHING HAPPENS.
I'm frustrated. To say the least. I find it interesting that I am, and have been, ovulating ever since my surgery, but no dice. And yet, no further testing is suggested. No one has even mentioned male factor since our initial appointment. There are a million different, little things that could be wrong with M's sperm and we would never know because we've just had a basic semen analysis done. But nobody mentions it. The closest thing to a novel idea I have heard was the Guru's revelation to me of other "options" besides IVF.
I'm done, y'all. I'm not saying modern medicine has failed me, but I certainly feel like my doctors are failing me. And they are the best in the area according to "everyone". I'm sick and tired of crying, and blaming myself, and blaming God, and hating my reproductive organs. This is no way to live a life and certainly no way to try to bring new life in. I don't even want to hear their schpeal about modified protocols. It can't possibly raise my chances to a percentage that would make it worth while to me.
I came home from the hospital and cried, like I always do. Because I can lie to myself all I want about how little I care if this works. The truth will out in the ultrasound room. I looked for hope, I scraped about for something happy. I've got nothing left but frustration and heartache towards infertility treatments.
At home, my Portals of Prayer book that has been gathering dust on the hall table fell to the floor when I set my purse down. I flipped through it, looking for guidance. I keep asking God to tell me what He wants me to do - I don't care what it is anymore, just tell me!! I mulled over things for a while, asking myself various questions, reading, thinking. I think - in matters of one's mission in life - sorrow, trials, and soldiering on are expected (from a Christian perspective). But, who ever said that biological procreation was anyone's mission in life - their purpose for being here? "Be fruitful and multiply, sure - but I tried! I tried and tried! I don't think God means for me to be heavy-hearted and sometimes miserable in my pursuit of a family. He has clearly provided other options, which I am not opposed to. I thought on this, and a quiet peacefulness laid on me. I stopped crying.
I've got another post percolating.... I want to write about how much I'm looking forward to being a mom and introducing my kid to all things geek. We're big time geeks, I'm proud to say. I'm a book nerd, M is a gamer geek, and we both enjoy sci-fi and fantasy movies and tv shows (unfortunately we don't often agree on *what* shows and movies). I need to think on it some more though...
Cheers
This is going to be.... an unholy mess of a post, apologies.
Had my mid-cycle ultrasound today. The front-runner follicle was 14mm. I have no idea what the next closest few were. It doesn't matter. Last cycle at this time a had a 17 and two 16's - as if that did me any good; still not pregnant. They asked that I come in for another ultrasound later in the week. Just in case. They don't want to tell me to trigger and all that when maybe nothing will happen. Oh yeah, cause that would suck - going to *all that trouble* and then nothing happens...
Oh wait - that's every cycle. It doesn't matter if I had gold star follies. Doesn't matter if M's sample had record numbers. NOTHING HAPPENS.
I'm frustrated. To say the least. I find it interesting that I am, and have been, ovulating ever since my surgery, but no dice. And yet, no further testing is suggested. No one has even mentioned male factor since our initial appointment. There are a million different, little things that could be wrong with M's sperm and we would never know because we've just had a basic semen analysis done. But nobody mentions it. The closest thing to a novel idea I have heard was the Guru's revelation to me of other "options" besides IVF.
I'm done, y'all. I'm not saying modern medicine has failed me, but I certainly feel like my doctors are failing me. And they are the best in the area according to "everyone". I'm sick and tired of crying, and blaming myself, and blaming God, and hating my reproductive organs. This is no way to live a life and certainly no way to try to bring new life in. I don't even want to hear their schpeal about modified protocols. It can't possibly raise my chances to a percentage that would make it worth while to me.
I came home from the hospital and cried, like I always do. Because I can lie to myself all I want about how little I care if this works. The truth will out in the ultrasound room. I looked for hope, I scraped about for something happy. I've got nothing left but frustration and heartache towards infertility treatments.
At home, my Portals of Prayer book that has been gathering dust on the hall table fell to the floor when I set my purse down. I flipped through it, looking for guidance. I keep asking God to tell me what He wants me to do - I don't care what it is anymore, just tell me!! I mulled over things for a while, asking myself various questions, reading, thinking. I think - in matters of one's mission in life - sorrow, trials, and soldiering on are expected (from a Christian perspective). But, who ever said that biological procreation was anyone's mission in life - their purpose for being here? "Be fruitful and multiply, sure - but I tried! I tried and tried! I don't think God means for me to be heavy-hearted and sometimes miserable in my pursuit of a family. He has clearly provided other options, which I am not opposed to. I thought on this, and a quiet peacefulness laid on me. I stopped crying.
I've got another post percolating.... I want to write about how much I'm looking forward to being a mom and introducing my kid to all things geek. We're big time geeks, I'm proud to say. I'm a book nerd, M is a gamer geek, and we both enjoy sci-fi and fantasy movies and tv shows (unfortunately we don't often agree on *what* shows and movies). I need to think on it some more though...
Cheers
July 10, 2013
Thoughts on Living Child Free (Not By Choice)
I don't even know where to start with this one.
Obviously living Child-Free is an option and its one I have brought up a could of times here. I'm grateful, I guess, that M and I are the sort of people who *can* see ourselves living a future without children and being okay, even though that's not the way we had envisioned our lives going.
It is an attractive end to this miserable IF road because I know that when I'm not in the thick of pursuing that one thing that I simply cannot have, I'm generally a very happy person. I am able to recognize and be thankful for that which I *can* and do have. I have an amazing husband who loves me for some crazy reason even through the times when *I* don't love me. I have an insane, but loving family who I am close to, including two nephews who are the lights of my life. And I live close enough to them to be a permanent part of their lives. M and I have jobs that pay well, with good benefits, and without children we would be able to afford to travel and engage more fully in charitable endeavors and tons of other cool things.
I have no doe-eyed fantasy about how perfect and delightful parenting is. I know that having children means sleepless nights, fights with your spouse, innumerable compromises, putting other plans and goals on the back burner for several years, etc. And we are all willing to make those sacrifices for the honor of raising up decent little human beings. I also realize that a childless life frees you up from many of those stresses and leaves open many other opportunities for you to pursue. See, look at that - I'm being all "glass half full" and shit.
And then this weird guilty feeling swoops around me and cloaks me in its negativity. I feel like...if I see positive things about living child-free, if the thought of that life doesn't make me sob with loss...there must be something wrong with me. I'm really *not* supposed to be a mother because a woman who is supposed to be a mother would doggedly pursue that goal until she reached it. Not lamely give up because "boo hoo, this is *hard* and if I stop now, I can still afford to visit Europe someday."
Its like that terrible conversation we have all been trapped up in at least once where some "helpful" acquaintance tries to make you feel better about your broken lady-parts by cheerfully encouraging "well, think of it this way: you get to sleep in on weekends and go out alone with your husband whenever you want, or take a last minute trip without having to consider any children!" And you're all like "...yaaay...that totally makes up for all my hopes and dreams being cruelly crushed under the heel of reality month after month...". Aren't I just spouting those same platitudes to myself? Shouldn't it make me angry, not hopeful, about the future? I mean, I can't actually be *that* well adjusted, please! A quick glance at the history of this blog proves I'm relatively unstable. So I judge myself for being comforted by these same ideas that, given by an outsider, would enrage me.
I tell myself I must unfit to be a parent because I can see life another way. And that's kind of sick and twisted to. Its beyond stupid to say "I don't deserve to be a mother because I won't move heaven and earth to achieve it" because MOST WOMEN DON'T HAVE TO. They have the luxury of it just "happening" for them, they didn't make any kind of extraordinary pursuit - it *fell* into their fertile. fucking. uterus. And all of these feelings are cobbled together inside of me, battling it out. Its rather nerve wracking, really.
Also, what if we *do* decide to live child-free and then in ten years I find myself regretting that decision so much that I just want to die?? What if my husband is taken from me by illness or accident and I have *nothing* left for the rest of my life because I don't have kids? Or what if we do live to be old but then there is no one to take care of us? Who takes care of the elderly that don't have children? Is it super depressing? And its not like you can ask someone that - "Hey Aunt Mary, I'm very sorry about Uncle Jim's death. Now that you're all alone, do you wish you had had children who could take care of you?" Oh yeah, that's *real* tactful and sensitive...
You might think, since I have so many worries and concerns, that this is not the right path for me - that it sounds like we should keep trying. Because at least then, if it doesn't work, we would definitively know that not having children was not within our power to change, no matter what. Unfortunately, short of some test coming back and saying "CurlySue, you have no eggs" or "M, you have no sperm and you never will", there will ALWAYS be a *chance*, however small, that we could have a baby. And I'm not going to live the next 8-10 years of my life that way, until advanced maternal age reduces my already small chance into basically nothing. I will NOT do that to myself or my husband. Which leaves me no choice but to create my own cut off point.
Cue continued self-judgement, now about the criteria used to choose the cut off point. I can't win.
Obviously living Child-Free is an option and its one I have brought up a could of times here. I'm grateful, I guess, that M and I are the sort of people who *can* see ourselves living a future without children and being okay, even though that's not the way we had envisioned our lives going.
It is an attractive end to this miserable IF road because I know that when I'm not in the thick of pursuing that one thing that I simply cannot have, I'm generally a very happy person. I am able to recognize and be thankful for that which I *can* and do have. I have an amazing husband who loves me for some crazy reason even through the times when *I* don't love me. I have an insane, but loving family who I am close to, including two nephews who are the lights of my life. And I live close enough to them to be a permanent part of their lives. M and I have jobs that pay well, with good benefits, and without children we would be able to afford to travel and engage more fully in charitable endeavors and tons of other cool things.
I have no doe-eyed fantasy about how perfect and delightful parenting is. I know that having children means sleepless nights, fights with your spouse, innumerable compromises, putting other plans and goals on the back burner for several years, etc. And we are all willing to make those sacrifices for the honor of raising up decent little human beings. I also realize that a childless life frees you up from many of those stresses and leaves open many other opportunities for you to pursue. See, look at that - I'm being all "glass half full" and shit.
And then this weird guilty feeling swoops around me and cloaks me in its negativity. I feel like...if I see positive things about living child-free, if the thought of that life doesn't make me sob with loss...there must be something wrong with me. I'm really *not* supposed to be a mother because a woman who is supposed to be a mother would doggedly pursue that goal until she reached it. Not lamely give up because "boo hoo, this is *hard* and if I stop now, I can still afford to visit Europe someday."
Its like that terrible conversation we have all been trapped up in at least once where some "helpful" acquaintance tries to make you feel better about your broken lady-parts by cheerfully encouraging "well, think of it this way: you get to sleep in on weekends and go out alone with your husband whenever you want, or take a last minute trip without having to consider any children!" And you're all like "...yaaay...that totally makes up for all my hopes and dreams being cruelly crushed under the heel of reality month after month...". Aren't I just spouting those same platitudes to myself? Shouldn't it make me angry, not hopeful, about the future? I mean, I can't actually be *that* well adjusted, please! A quick glance at the history of this blog proves I'm relatively unstable. So I judge myself for being comforted by these same ideas that, given by an outsider, would enrage me.
I tell myself I must unfit to be a parent because I can see life another way. And that's kind of sick and twisted to. Its beyond stupid to say "I don't deserve to be a mother because I won't move heaven and earth to achieve it" because MOST WOMEN DON'T HAVE TO. They have the luxury of it just "happening" for them, they didn't make any kind of extraordinary pursuit - it *fell* into their fertile. fucking. uterus. And all of these feelings are cobbled together inside of me, battling it out. Its rather nerve wracking, really.
Also, what if we *do* decide to live child-free and then in ten years I find myself regretting that decision so much that I just want to die?? What if my husband is taken from me by illness or accident and I have *nothing* left for the rest of my life because I don't have kids? Or what if we do live to be old but then there is no one to take care of us? Who takes care of the elderly that don't have children? Is it super depressing? And its not like you can ask someone that - "Hey Aunt Mary, I'm very sorry about Uncle Jim's death. Now that you're all alone, do you wish you had had children who could take care of you?" Oh yeah, that's *real* tactful and sensitive...
You might think, since I have so many worries and concerns, that this is not the right path for me - that it sounds like we should keep trying. Because at least then, if it doesn't work, we would definitively know that not having children was not within our power to change, no matter what. Unfortunately, short of some test coming back and saying "CurlySue, you have no eggs" or "M, you have no sperm and you never will", there will ALWAYS be a *chance*, however small, that we could have a baby. And I'm not going to live the next 8-10 years of my life that way, until advanced maternal age reduces my already small chance into basically nothing. I will NOT do that to myself or my husband. Which leaves me no choice but to create my own cut off point.
Cue continued self-judgement, now about the criteria used to choose the cut off point. I can't win.
January 08, 2013
Overwhelmed
I think I've been trying to do too much for a while now. Life was very different 6 months ago when M and I lived 5 minutes from work, 10 minutes from church and family, and we had no money to go out and do things most of the time. I spent a lot of time at home doing chores, cooking, crafting, that sort of thing. We went to bed at 10, sometimes 11 at night. We almost never woke up before 7am. We had exactly 800 square feet of living space to take care of and general maintenance was not our problem. We had zero outdoor space to take care of.
Now, we live a minimum of 30 minutes from work and family (and its usually more like 45 minutes). We can afford to go out and be social. It feels like we are *never* home except to sleep. We go to bed at 9, sometimes earlier if it has been a hard day. We wake up by 6am. We have exactly 2200 square feet of living space to take care of and all maintenance issues are our problem. We have almost a full acre of outdoor space to take care of.
Something's got to give. There are not enough hours in a day or days in a week for me to accomplish even the minimum of what needs to be done. I can't spend my entire weekend away from my house where the chores have been piling up for weeks. I can't spend 2 work day evenings a week away from home, not getting in until a half an hour after M has fallen asleep. It is impossible to eat a low carb diet when I don't have enough time to cook and prepare foods for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks. And I can't even *think* about doing an IUI cycle when I am already feeling this much stress and pressure.
I laid in bed last night crying and thinking to myself, "what if I can't handle a baby? I don't feel like I can at all! If I can't manage to keep this house clean, how can I take care of a baby?? Why do I have to make this decision *now* when other women can easily wait into their 30's?" I'm overwhelmed with the burden of so many responsibilities, real and imagined. It would be selfish to stop helping my mom and sister with volunteering at church. It would be rude to not visit with my family as much as I can. I am a bad Christian if I don't prioritize attending bible study. I am killing myself if I don't go back on my strict low-carb diet. If don't get back into fertility treatments ASAP, then it means I'm not trying hard enough and I don't want it enough. I am not a mature adult if I can't manage to keep my house in order and the chores in check.
I know that sounds ridiculous and I am clearly catastrophizing, but in my head these are very real, very *crushing* demands that must be lived up to or I am a failure. Or I will be a disappointment to people. And I can't handle either label, even if I would be the only person actually labeling me.
So before I go any more coo-coo bananas than I already am, I've decided I need to take a step back from a lot of "extra-curricular activities" and focus on getting the basics in order again now that I have a whole house to manage and less time in which to do the managing. When my physical space is a mess, my brain is a mess - does anyone else ever feel like that? Like at work, I can't think straight if my desk is a disaster area. Doesn't mean I keep it perfectly tidy all the time, but it does mean there are days I have to stop what I'm doing and take a moment to clean up before I can move forward.
I don't want to go back to treatments right now. The second half of winter is always a little difficult for me and I am clearly not in a good place to pile on extra stress, drama, and hormones. Maybe by March, maybe April. It will give us time to save up the funds in our Health Savings Account anyway. I'm going to try to stop being so demanding with myself, but I'm pretty sure its a hard-wired personality trait.
Now, we live a minimum of 30 minutes from work and family (and its usually more like 45 minutes). We can afford to go out and be social. It feels like we are *never* home except to sleep. We go to bed at 9, sometimes earlier if it has been a hard day. We wake up by 6am. We have exactly 2200 square feet of living space to take care of and all maintenance issues are our problem. We have almost a full acre of outdoor space to take care of.
Something's got to give. There are not enough hours in a day or days in a week for me to accomplish even the minimum of what needs to be done. I can't spend my entire weekend away from my house where the chores have been piling up for weeks. I can't spend 2 work day evenings a week away from home, not getting in until a half an hour after M has fallen asleep. It is impossible to eat a low carb diet when I don't have enough time to cook and prepare foods for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks. And I can't even *think* about doing an IUI cycle when I am already feeling this much stress and pressure.
I laid in bed last night crying and thinking to myself, "what if I can't handle a baby? I don't feel like I can at all! If I can't manage to keep this house clean, how can I take care of a baby?? Why do I have to make this decision *now* when other women can easily wait into their 30's?" I'm overwhelmed with the burden of so many responsibilities, real and imagined. It would be selfish to stop helping my mom and sister with volunteering at church. It would be rude to not visit with my family as much as I can. I am a bad Christian if I don't prioritize attending bible study. I am killing myself if I don't go back on my strict low-carb diet. If don't get back into fertility treatments ASAP, then it means I'm not trying hard enough and I don't want it enough. I am not a mature adult if I can't manage to keep my house in order and the chores in check.
I know that sounds ridiculous and I am clearly catastrophizing, but in my head these are very real, very *crushing* demands that must be lived up to or I am a failure. Or I will be a disappointment to people. And I can't handle either label, even if I would be the only person actually labeling me.
So before I go any more coo-coo bananas than I already am, I've decided I need to take a step back from a lot of "extra-curricular activities" and focus on getting the basics in order again now that I have a whole house to manage and less time in which to do the managing. When my physical space is a mess, my brain is a mess - does anyone else ever feel like that? Like at work, I can't think straight if my desk is a disaster area. Doesn't mean I keep it perfectly tidy all the time, but it does mean there are days I have to stop what I'm doing and take a moment to clean up before I can move forward.
I don't want to go back to treatments right now. The second half of winter is always a little difficult for me and I am clearly not in a good place to pile on extra stress, drama, and hormones. Maybe by March, maybe April. It will give us time to save up the funds in our Health Savings Account anyway. I'm going to try to stop being so demanding with myself, but I'm pretty sure its a hard-wired personality trait.
October 16, 2012
Word Vomit
I have a lot of thoughts swirling in my head today, so this is probably all going to be a bit scattered. My apologies.
A few Sundays ago, my pastor did an entire sermon about growing the church through marriage and children. Can I tell you that was my *least* favorite sermon since he preached about the necessity for private confessions? He stuck a little blurb in near the end about how those of us who have tried and failed are basically off the hook, but that actually made me feel worse, not better. My mantra for the rest of the day was "I guess I'll just live out my childless, useless life." My sister even got up and walked out until the sermon was over, it upset her that much. The fact that the rest of the world can hurt an infertile so deeply without even knowing what they did is...well, its maddening.
I am trying so hard to get to and stay in a place mentally and emotionally where I will be okay without kids, but one wrong utterance from one of "them" can send me into a bitter, spiteful tirade. That's not how I want to live out my life. How do I temper my own disappointment in how my life is turning out *and* gracefully and forgivingly handle the random barbs from people who don't know any better? Will it ever get easier? I feel safe within our online community and am able to be even keeled and speak hopefully about the future regardless of whether I have children or not. But out in the real world, I struggle. And I don't want to wear a banner all my life that announces to everyone "I'm scarred from years of unresolved infertility, please think before you speak to me". This issue even scares me off from opening up about my struggles to people because once you open that door, its hard to close it again when the person you confided in starts spewing all those cliche platitudes we all hate so much. I *want* to believe in "normal" people's ability to be understanding and supportive. I want to be able to trust the greater Christian community to support me and pray for me, but in an effort to be "helpful" they can do so much damage.
How can I open up to my bible study group about my experiences when one girl just announced her pregnancy? She's 8 weeks. I was aghast that she would confide in people outside her closest circle that early. I for one wouldn't utter a word until forced to. But if I open up about my infertility, then I risk weekly requests for updates that I have no interest in giving. I suppose I could out myself by spouting some infertility manifesto that explains my situation but also provides a lengthy "Do and Don't" list for them to follow. That sounds very militant and unfriendly though, doesn't it?
On a completely separate note, my sister will be delivering her baby on Thursday. They settled on being induced because the baby simply refuses to stay engaged in the birth canal or whatever. I am so excited and so thankful for this blessing and I just hope I'm not a big emotional mess that day. This may be the closest I ever get to the childbirth experience.
I'm hoping that settling into the new house, helping with my nephew, and the upcoming holiday season will keep me nicely distracted from any lingering negativity as I enter yet another TTC break. In January we will have been trying for 2 years. I never once thought it would take this long or that I'd be this close to giving up. Three IUI cycles and I'm tapping out, throwing in the towel, washing my hands of my responsibility to raise Good and Godly Children, until such time as I am ready to start researching adoption. I still don't know for sure if it is the right path for us, but I will prayerfully consider it.
Hmm, I promised this post would be happier than the last one, didn't I? Hmmmmm........
Please enjoy this oldie, but goldie funny animation: Ebaum's End of the World
A few Sundays ago, my pastor did an entire sermon about growing the church through marriage and children. Can I tell you that was my *least* favorite sermon since he preached about the necessity for private confessions? He stuck a little blurb in near the end about how those of us who have tried and failed are basically off the hook, but that actually made me feel worse, not better. My mantra for the rest of the day was "I guess I'll just live out my childless, useless life." My sister even got up and walked out until the sermon was over, it upset her that much. The fact that the rest of the world can hurt an infertile so deeply without even knowing what they did is...well, its maddening.
I am trying so hard to get to and stay in a place mentally and emotionally where I will be okay without kids, but one wrong utterance from one of "them" can send me into a bitter, spiteful tirade. That's not how I want to live out my life. How do I temper my own disappointment in how my life is turning out *and* gracefully and forgivingly handle the random barbs from people who don't know any better? Will it ever get easier? I feel safe within our online community and am able to be even keeled and speak hopefully about the future regardless of whether I have children or not. But out in the real world, I struggle. And I don't want to wear a banner all my life that announces to everyone "I'm scarred from years of unresolved infertility, please think before you speak to me". This issue even scares me off from opening up about my struggles to people because once you open that door, its hard to close it again when the person you confided in starts spewing all those cliche platitudes we all hate so much. I *want* to believe in "normal" people's ability to be understanding and supportive. I want to be able to trust the greater Christian community to support me and pray for me, but in an effort to be "helpful" they can do so much damage.
How can I open up to my bible study group about my experiences when one girl just announced her pregnancy? She's 8 weeks. I was aghast that she would confide in people outside her closest circle that early. I for one wouldn't utter a word until forced to. But if I open up about my infertility, then I risk weekly requests for updates that I have no interest in giving. I suppose I could out myself by spouting some infertility manifesto that explains my situation but also provides a lengthy "Do and Don't" list for them to follow. That sounds very militant and unfriendly though, doesn't it?
On a completely separate note, my sister will be delivering her baby on Thursday. They settled on being induced because the baby simply refuses to stay engaged in the birth canal or whatever. I am so excited and so thankful for this blessing and I just hope I'm not a big emotional mess that day. This may be the closest I ever get to the childbirth experience.
I'm hoping that settling into the new house, helping with my nephew, and the upcoming holiday season will keep me nicely distracted from any lingering negativity as I enter yet another TTC break. In January we will have been trying for 2 years. I never once thought it would take this long or that I'd be this close to giving up. Three IUI cycles and I'm tapping out, throwing in the towel, washing my hands of my responsibility to raise Good and Godly Children, until such time as I am ready to start researching adoption. I still don't know for sure if it is the right path for us, but I will prayerfully consider it.
Hmm, I promised this post would be happier than the last one, didn't I? Hmmmmm........
Please enjoy this oldie, but goldie funny animation: Ebaum's End of the World
July 26, 2012
Torture
Update: This evening I have learned of two dear blogging friends going through miscarriages right now. Suddenly my petty little complaints seem so insignificant. There is much to be thankful for and I'm so glad there is a community of women who can keep me grounded when I start to spiral into overdramatic thought trains. But I'm so devastated and heartbroken for my friends... No one deserves to go through this, especially not *multiple* times and *especially* not when you are already battling IF. We do not live in a fair and balanced world, my friends. We live in a sinful, hopelessly unbalanced, and completely jacked up world. All I can do is pray that eventually we will all get the think we most long for...
Sleep deprivation would be a very effective method of torture on me, if I were ever so unlucky as to be in that situation.
I'm having a crappy week and I blame sleep deprivation for my bad attitude. Sleep deprivation thanks to the incessant hot flashes that plague me hourly throughout the night - never permitting a sufficient amount of REM sleep. Hot flashes thanks to my little "miracle" drug, clomid. The clomid which appears to be failing me spectacularly.
I went out and bought a box of OPKs like I promised Dr. B. I didn't get the digital ones because HOLY CRAP EXPENSIVE! Especially considering its something I'm going to pee on and then throw away! So I went with the traditional ones, being that I have no idea if this will even work. I dutifully peed when I got home from work. Decidedly negative. I've been keeping an eye on my CM and cervix and all that and I'm concerned. I have the tiniest bit of EWCM only sometimes during the day and I swear my cervix is changing position and firmness multiple times a day. This is nothing like last cycle where I had *gobs* of EWCM for days and my cervix very clearly changed position and softened right when my temp rose.
So now, thanks to my bad mood courtesy of no sleep, I'm convinced this isn't going to work. In fact it is never going to work (except in a month where I've completely given up and we have no sex, *then* I will magically ovulate). Because... I don't know, because God enjoys screwing with me? Because this is his way of saying "No, I'm not going to let you have children, that's never going to happen"?
It doesn't actually bother me that much that this cycle might not work. I knew it might not. Its just one more thing not going my way heaped up on the pile of other things that are definitely *not* going my way - that's what gets to me.
M still hasn't heard about that job this week. With only 3 candidates, you would think by now they'd have made their decision, offered the job, and be contacting the losers to say "thanks, but no thanks". Instead we get more silence. I hate the job hunt. I hate how rude and inconsiderate 95% of the places we apply to are. Is it so hard to send out a form letter in a timely fashion to let people know they can stop holding onto that shred of hope that an offer is coming? Every time M has interviewed somewhere, we never hear another word from the company. No call, no letter, no email - nothing. I thought it was standard business etiquette that if you have an interview, you at least deserve a form rejection letter. Silence is just cruel.
I'm sorry this post is lacking in puppies and rainbows and glitter farts. I'm just not feeling very resilient and hopeful today. I am feeling resentful and pessimistic, instead. If I could just get some damn sleep I *know* I wouldn't feel this bad.
Sleep deprivation would be a very effective method of torture on me, if I were ever so unlucky as to be in that situation.
I'm having a crappy week and I blame sleep deprivation for my bad attitude. Sleep deprivation thanks to the incessant hot flashes that plague me hourly throughout the night - never permitting a sufficient amount of REM sleep. Hot flashes thanks to my little "miracle" drug, clomid. The clomid which appears to be failing me spectacularly.
I went out and bought a box of OPKs like I promised Dr. B. I didn't get the digital ones because HOLY CRAP EXPENSIVE! Especially considering its something I'm going to pee on and then throw away! So I went with the traditional ones, being that I have no idea if this will even work. I dutifully peed when I got home from work. Decidedly negative. I've been keeping an eye on my CM and cervix and all that and I'm concerned. I have the tiniest bit of EWCM only sometimes during the day and I swear my cervix is changing position and firmness multiple times a day. This is nothing like last cycle where I had *gobs* of EWCM for days and my cervix very clearly changed position and softened right when my temp rose.
So now, thanks to my bad mood courtesy of no sleep, I'm convinced this isn't going to work. In fact it is never going to work (except in a month where I've completely given up and we have no sex, *then* I will magically ovulate). Because... I don't know, because God enjoys screwing with me? Because this is his way of saying "No, I'm not going to let you have children, that's never going to happen"?
It doesn't actually bother me that much that this cycle might not work. I knew it might not. Its just one more thing not going my way heaped up on the pile of other things that are definitely *not* going my way - that's what gets to me.
M still hasn't heard about that job this week. With only 3 candidates, you would think by now they'd have made their decision, offered the job, and be contacting the losers to say "thanks, but no thanks". Instead we get more silence. I hate the job hunt. I hate how rude and inconsiderate 95% of the places we apply to are. Is it so hard to send out a form letter in a timely fashion to let people know they can stop holding onto that shred of hope that an offer is coming? Every time M has interviewed somewhere, we never hear another word from the company. No call, no letter, no email - nothing. I thought it was standard business etiquette that if you have an interview, you at least deserve a form rejection letter. Silence is just cruel.
I'm sorry this post is lacking in puppies and rainbows and glitter farts. I'm just not feeling very resilient and hopeful today. I am feeling resentful and pessimistic, instead. If I could just get some damn sleep I *know* I wouldn't feel this bad.
July 16, 2012
The Good, The Bad, And The Confusing
When will I learn that my RE appointments never go the way I think they will?
Let's get all the good news out there first: My ovaries look good! roughly 12 tiny follicles on each (which is amazing for me). The Guru was very happy to see such a strong response so soon after the surgery. Apparently, it can take up to 6 months to feel the full effects.
Also, M's interview went great this morning *happy dance* They are interviewing 3 people total for the job and will make their decision in 2 weeks. Another 2ww, go figure. Well, I've gotten pretty good at those, I guess.
The Bad: Me and 6am are not good friends. Me and any time before 7am are barely on speaking terms, really. But that's what time I had to be up to get to my appointment. As such, even after draining my coffee mug in 20 minutes, my brain was still 90% non-functioning during my appointment. This is bad because things happen very fast at my RE's office. They come in, Wanda goes up the vag, they talk for a minute, and then they're gone! So if you've got questions or concerns, you have to jump right in and demand they stop for two seconds.
I am not capable of doing that when my brain is 90% non-functioning. I knew that Dr. B had already noted in my chart I should be prescribed 100mg clomid this cycle. And I've already mentioned how I was willing to go even lower and slower with getting back on the clomid-crazy-train. But since it was the Guru at this appointment, I decided it wasn't that big of a deal. You know what *is* a big deal? Finding out from the nurse that they expect me to do a trigger shot this cycle. Excuse me, what??? Cue....
The Confusing: So, I just had surgery and took a 3 month TTC hiatus to come back and do the same damn protocol as before??? Because that makes ZERO sense. At my post-op appointment with Dr. B, we discussed scaling back on treatment because we need to see what my body is doing now that there's less toxic levels of testosterone floating around. So how will doing the SAME THING show us anything at all? I have proof that I just ovulated on my own, without drugs! It was my understanding that we'd do 100mg of clomid and see what happens. If that doesn't work, then of course we would up the dose or include a trigger. But to do that as the very first intervention seems completely unnecessary. I am finally in a good head space where I am willing to slow down and try to keep my sanity while we go through this and they are stepping on the gas.
What I should have said to the nurse was "I'm sorry, Dr. B never mentioned this to me. I think there may be some confusion. Can we please make sure that this is correct information before proceeding. I don't want to use a trigger shot on my first cycle back on meds if I don't have to."
Instead, I looked bewildered at her and said "What...? But...I had surgery...I thought I wouldn't have to do that..." To which I got a mostly brush off response of "Oh, its fine, we do this so you know exactly when you ovulate for IUI or even for Timed Intercourse. Ok, let's go draw some blood!"
Okay, that's very nice and all, but I don't. want. the. shot. I will have to have another expensive ultrasound in order to use the shot. I am draining my savings account as is, I don't need help. But none of these words came to me this morning. Instead I stood there feeling stupid and confused.
Then, just to solidify that they think I'm a moron, the nurse tried sticking me in the vein I told her NOT to use, so I got stuck twice for my useless pregnancy test. And they scheduled my next ultrasound (the one to check for follicles to time the trigger shot that I don't even want) for CD11. Only because I said with CD12 we might miss the boat.
All in all, a frustrating visit. I don't understand why they rush and talk about my treatment assuming I'm already aware of what's going on. How would I know what we were doing before now? I *thought* I knew, but clearly that isn't happening. And I wish to God I'd had the mental faculties to just say "Stop! Wait! I am confused and we need to talk about this!" I've tried various strategies to help me keep track of my questions, concerns, and comments during appointments, but none of them have worked. I always let myself get plowed over while I sit there lost and confused and they rush around me.
My sister told me to write an email to the generic nurse address for the office. She was at my post-op appointment and agrees it isn't right that they have me doing a trigger because we never discussed that. She told me to ask them to have Dr. B review my chart and ask if I can forgo the trigger so we can see if clomid alone is enough.
Am I crazy? I mean, I know they are used to doing more serious drug protocols at this office, but that doesn't mean I *have* to do it that way, does it? I don't like the way clomid makes me feel and that stupid trigger gives me pregnancy symptoms - so if I can minimize their use, I really want to! Nevermind the financial aspect of it all.
Let's get all the good news out there first: My ovaries look good! roughly 12 tiny follicles on each (which is amazing for me). The Guru was very happy to see such a strong response so soon after the surgery. Apparently, it can take up to 6 months to feel the full effects.
Also, M's interview went great this morning *happy dance* They are interviewing 3 people total for the job and will make their decision in 2 weeks. Another 2ww, go figure. Well, I've gotten pretty good at those, I guess.
The Bad: Me and 6am are not good friends. Me and any time before 7am are barely on speaking terms, really. But that's what time I had to be up to get to my appointment. As such, even after draining my coffee mug in 20 minutes, my brain was still 90% non-functioning during my appointment. This is bad because things happen very fast at my RE's office. They come in, Wanda goes up the vag, they talk for a minute, and then they're gone! So if you've got questions or concerns, you have to jump right in and demand they stop for two seconds.
I am not capable of doing that when my brain is 90% non-functioning. I knew that Dr. B had already noted in my chart I should be prescribed 100mg clomid this cycle. And I've already mentioned how I was willing to go even lower and slower with getting back on the clomid-crazy-train. But since it was the Guru at this appointment, I decided it wasn't that big of a deal. You know what *is* a big deal? Finding out from the nurse that they expect me to do a trigger shot this cycle. Excuse me, what??? Cue....
The Confusing: So, I just had surgery and took a 3 month TTC hiatus to come back and do the same damn protocol as before??? Because that makes ZERO sense. At my post-op appointment with Dr. B, we discussed scaling back on treatment because we need to see what my body is doing now that there's less toxic levels of testosterone floating around. So how will doing the SAME THING show us anything at all? I have proof that I just ovulated on my own, without drugs! It was my understanding that we'd do 100mg of clomid and see what happens. If that doesn't work, then of course we would up the dose or include a trigger. But to do that as the very first intervention seems completely unnecessary. I am finally in a good head space where I am willing to slow down and try to keep my sanity while we go through this and they are stepping on the gas.
What I should have said to the nurse was "I'm sorry, Dr. B never mentioned this to me. I think there may be some confusion. Can we please make sure that this is correct information before proceeding. I don't want to use a trigger shot on my first cycle back on meds if I don't have to."
Instead, I looked bewildered at her and said "What...? But...I had surgery...I thought I wouldn't have to do that..." To which I got a mostly brush off response of "Oh, its fine, we do this so you know exactly when you ovulate for IUI or even for Timed Intercourse. Ok, let's go draw some blood!"
Okay, that's very nice and all, but I don't. want. the. shot. I will have to have another expensive ultrasound in order to use the shot. I am draining my savings account as is, I don't need help. But none of these words came to me this morning. Instead I stood there feeling stupid and confused.
Then, just to solidify that they think I'm a moron, the nurse tried sticking me in the vein I told her NOT to use, so I got stuck twice for my useless pregnancy test. And they scheduled my next ultrasound (the one to check for follicles to time the trigger shot that I don't even want) for CD11. Only because I said with CD12 we might miss the boat.
All in all, a frustrating visit. I don't understand why they rush and talk about my treatment assuming I'm already aware of what's going on. How would I know what we were doing before now? I *thought* I knew, but clearly that isn't happening. And I wish to God I'd had the mental faculties to just say "Stop! Wait! I am confused and we need to talk about this!" I've tried various strategies to help me keep track of my questions, concerns, and comments during appointments, but none of them have worked. I always let myself get plowed over while I sit there lost and confused and they rush around me.
My sister told me to write an email to the generic nurse address for the office. She was at my post-op appointment and agrees it isn't right that they have me doing a trigger because we never discussed that. She told me to ask them to have Dr. B review my chart and ask if I can forgo the trigger so we can see if clomid alone is enough.
Am I crazy? I mean, I know they are used to doing more serious drug protocols at this office, but that doesn't mean I *have* to do it that way, does it? I don't like the way clomid makes me feel and that stupid trigger gives me pregnancy symptoms - so if I can minimize their use, I really want to! Nevermind the financial aspect of it all.
May 30, 2012
The War on Curly Hair
Another Fertility-Free post, sorry if they are less interesting. I promise to write a big, long post after my appointment tomorrow and then get back to my regularly scheduled, fertility related, crazy-pants self ::wink::
So, who are my curly haired sisters out there? Any wavy girls (cause you count, too!)? My curly hair is one of my best loved features (and I have so few: my eyes, my collar bones...that's about it). But I didn't always love it and it wasn't always curly. When I was a kid, I had bone straight hair, not a hint of curl. Around age 12/13 my hair rather suddenly got a rougher and bushier texture - it was horrible trying to deal with it through Jr. High! My mom finally got fed up with my weird hair and took me to her stylist who announced "Well no wonder, she's got curly hair!" I was so confused, but apparently hormones can make your hair curl.
From the time I learned my hair was curly until about a year ago I had a serious love/hate relationship with my hair. When it was good it was very, very good and when it was bad it was *awful*! And I could never tell when bad hair days would strike, they seemed so random. I could spend a half an hour on my hair in the morning and it might look like I just rolled out of bed. Frizz was impossible to tame through all known means. And remember, this was back in the rather early days of the internet. No youtube to find videos on how to manage curly hair, naturally curly dot com didn't even exist, so I was very much on my own. I lived with my hair this way for 14 years before finally *finally* figuring out what I was doing wrong.
At Barnes and Noble one day last year, I found The Curly Girl Guidebook on clearance. I leafed through it and knew I had to buy it. I went home, read the book cover to cover, watched the videos on the DVD and knew my hair's life would never be the same. It turns out that 90% of commercial hair products are formulated with straight hair in mind (even products that claim they are for curly hair). Straight hair and curly hair are structurally *very* different and therefore have very different washing and care needs. Who knew!? Not me, that's for sure. To combat frizz, companies load up their conditioners and styling products with silicones which coat the hair shaft and force it to behave. The hair has no access to air and water, which is what creates frizz. However, silicone is not water soluble, so you can't just rinse it out of your hair - it takes a strong surfactant to wash out the silicone or it will build up on your hair and make it dull and very unhealthy. Most shampoos contain sulfates to be able to wash out tricky chemicals like silicone from the hair - sounds like a simple enough solution, right? Except that sulfates are incredibly *harsh* cleansers which strip the hair shaft of everything including its own natural and necessary oils. This is not a terribly bad thing for people with straight hair because they have more oily hair to begin with. Curly people on the other hand have more dry hair because the oil originates at the scalp and our kinky texture keeps the oils from sliding down the hair shaft. So we strangle our hair with silicones and then strip them of nutrients with harsh sulfates and this creates very sad, unhealthy, and unlovely looking curly hair. Not to mention all the damage you can do to it by flat ironing it! I was so guilty of this, especially in the summer when humidity made my hair a frizz-ball unless I ironed it. I have permanently retired my once beloved flat iron.
I had to throw away all my shampoos and conditioners, as well as some of my styling products. I pitched my brushes and combs. At first I was very afraid that the only products on the market without dangerous chemicals would be *super* expensive, but I have been happily surprised to find many "drug store" quality brands that will not harm my hair. I have been sulfates and silicone free for almost a year now.
Until earlier this week when I had to buy more conditioner. I'd found a popular, reasonably priced brand at the grocery store which had none of the chemicals I avoid and was very good for my hair, so I had used it for some time. When I went to use it in the shower, the texture came out *very* different that I was used to. I ran it throughout my hair and knew something was wrong. I quickly checked the ingredients on the bottle and found they had added SILICONE! Without saying anything! No, "new and improved formula!" or any bullshit like that. I was horrified. I had to use a clarifying shampoo (hello harsh sulfates) to get it out and then do a protein treatment. I was SO MAD at the company for changing the formula! Fortunately, I was able to return the offending item to the store and pick up a different conditioner with a label pronouncing "no silicones!". Damn straight, no silicones...
For the first time in my life, I love my hair. I love the way it looks, I love caring for it and I love knowing that it will look beautiful almost every day. And when I do have a rare bad hair day, I know what to do about it. And I've gotten good at noticing the subtle ways that the media and popular public perception try to make curly hair sound like a bad thing. I watched a segment on a Saturday morning talk show that promised to help women with frizz issues. Every single one of the women they showed obviously had some degree of curly hair (whether wavy, or truly curly) that simply wasn't being managed well. The "expert's" solution to their hair woes was to dump a bunch of chemicals on them and flat iron the shit out of it. I got so mad (silly, I know) because it was clear to me they were implying "curly hair ugly, straight hair pretty!". I guess you could say I'm a militant curly girl, and there's just no going back. Why would I *want* to go back when finally love my hair? I wish I could spread the good word to every frizzy haired woman who can't understand why her hair won't behave. Curly hair is *beautiful*, don't believe a word the "experts" say!
So, who are my curly haired sisters out there? Any wavy girls (cause you count, too!)? My curly hair is one of my best loved features (and I have so few: my eyes, my collar bones...that's about it). But I didn't always love it and it wasn't always curly. When I was a kid, I had bone straight hair, not a hint of curl. Around age 12/13 my hair rather suddenly got a rougher and bushier texture - it was horrible trying to deal with it through Jr. High! My mom finally got fed up with my weird hair and took me to her stylist who announced "Well no wonder, she's got curly hair!" I was so confused, but apparently hormones can make your hair curl.
From the time I learned my hair was curly until about a year ago I had a serious love/hate relationship with my hair. When it was good it was very, very good and when it was bad it was *awful*! And I could never tell when bad hair days would strike, they seemed so random. I could spend a half an hour on my hair in the morning and it might look like I just rolled out of bed. Frizz was impossible to tame through all known means. And remember, this was back in the rather early days of the internet. No youtube to find videos on how to manage curly hair, naturally curly dot com didn't even exist, so I was very much on my own. I lived with my hair this way for 14 years before finally *finally* figuring out what I was doing wrong.
At Barnes and Noble one day last year, I found The Curly Girl Guidebook on clearance. I leafed through it and knew I had to buy it. I went home, read the book cover to cover, watched the videos on the DVD and knew my hair's life would never be the same. It turns out that 90% of commercial hair products are formulated with straight hair in mind (even products that claim they are for curly hair). Straight hair and curly hair are structurally *very* different and therefore have very different washing and care needs. Who knew!? Not me, that's for sure. To combat frizz, companies load up their conditioners and styling products with silicones which coat the hair shaft and force it to behave. The hair has no access to air and water, which is what creates frizz. However, silicone is not water soluble, so you can't just rinse it out of your hair - it takes a strong surfactant to wash out the silicone or it will build up on your hair and make it dull and very unhealthy. Most shampoos contain sulfates to be able to wash out tricky chemicals like silicone from the hair - sounds like a simple enough solution, right? Except that sulfates are incredibly *harsh* cleansers which strip the hair shaft of everything including its own natural and necessary oils. This is not a terribly bad thing for people with straight hair because they have more oily hair to begin with. Curly people on the other hand have more dry hair because the oil originates at the scalp and our kinky texture keeps the oils from sliding down the hair shaft. So we strangle our hair with silicones and then strip them of nutrients with harsh sulfates and this creates very sad, unhealthy, and unlovely looking curly hair. Not to mention all the damage you can do to it by flat ironing it! I was so guilty of this, especially in the summer when humidity made my hair a frizz-ball unless I ironed it. I have permanently retired my once beloved flat iron.
I had to throw away all my shampoos and conditioners, as well as some of my styling products. I pitched my brushes and combs. At first I was very afraid that the only products on the market without dangerous chemicals would be *super* expensive, but I have been happily surprised to find many "drug store" quality brands that will not harm my hair. I have been sulfates and silicone free for almost a year now.
Until earlier this week when I had to buy more conditioner. I'd found a popular, reasonably priced brand at the grocery store which had none of the chemicals I avoid and was very good for my hair, so I had used it for some time. When I went to use it in the shower, the texture came out *very* different that I was used to. I ran it throughout my hair and knew something was wrong. I quickly checked the ingredients on the bottle and found they had added SILICONE! Without saying anything! No, "new and improved formula!" or any bullshit like that. I was horrified. I had to use a clarifying shampoo (hello harsh sulfates) to get it out and then do a protein treatment. I was SO MAD at the company for changing the formula! Fortunately, I was able to return the offending item to the store and pick up a different conditioner with a label pronouncing "no silicones!". Damn straight, no silicones...
For the first time in my life, I love my hair. I love the way it looks, I love caring for it and I love knowing that it will look beautiful almost every day. And when I do have a rare bad hair day, I know what to do about it. And I've gotten good at noticing the subtle ways that the media and popular public perception try to make curly hair sound like a bad thing. I watched a segment on a Saturday morning talk show that promised to help women with frizz issues. Every single one of the women they showed obviously had some degree of curly hair (whether wavy, or truly curly) that simply wasn't being managed well. The "expert's" solution to their hair woes was to dump a bunch of chemicals on them and flat iron the shit out of it. I got so mad (silly, I know) because it was clear to me they were implying "curly hair ugly, straight hair pretty!". I guess you could say I'm a militant curly girl, and there's just no going back. Why would I *want* to go back when finally love my hair? I wish I could spread the good word to every frizzy haired woman who can't understand why her hair won't behave. Curly hair is *beautiful*, don't believe a word the "experts" say!
May 10, 2012
It Hits the Fan
The proverbial shit, that is.
My cat is sick. One vet appointment and $250 later, we still have no idea what's wrong with him, as his blood and urine came back totally healthy and normal. So why isn't he eating, why isn't he drinking, and why hasn't he used his pan? I feel like he'll be dead in a week and I'll never know why.
I don't know if it was the worry over the cat, or just a combination of *everything* that has sucked lately, but I started crying at the doctor's office yesterday and didn't stop for several hours. For the first time, Dr. B was not remotely reassuring to me. We were supposed to just go over the surgery and answer any questions I had. Somehow we got to talking about how out of control my PCOS symptoms feel and basically what he said was, if I haven't cut every scrap of carbs out of my diet, I'm not trying hard enough and I have nothing to complain about. He then followed up that helpful tidbit by telling me that for some women, they can be on the best med combinations, exercise, and never touch carbs, and *maybe* their symptoms won't get any worse - they won't improve any, but at least they won't get worse. Cue noose tying...
I honestly don't know why everything Dr. B said was about the worst thing anyone could say to me, but it kept going. He's got diabetes and you don't see him crying - sure he misses carbs. And wouldn't I feel worse if I had, say, cancer? See, its not so bad when you compare it to something that is really bad. I wanted to scream at him that I'm not interested in playing the pain olympics. Instead I just cried. Cried out of frustration, cried out of pure exhaustion. Cried because I get the distinct feeling that God doesn't like me very much. That everything I am doing is wrong, and that's why I'm failing miserably. And you know what? There is a good chance the PCOS will kill me eventually. It increases my risks for developing all kinds of serious health problems. And it only gets worse as I get older. And there is no cure. So his cancer comparison is pretty fucking stupid, if you ask me.
I don't feel hopeful at all and anyone suggesting I should be, I just want to punch in the face. I'm not going to get pregnant, I'm never going to lose a shred of weight no matter how hard I try, and as Dr. B so kindly pointed out to me, every gram of carbs I eat is poisoning me. So now every meal is fraught with guilt. Like I don't have enough of that right now. I can't beat something that has complete control over my body, with a viscous cycle that feeds back into itself making things worse and worse. No matter what anyone says, we never "beat" PCOS, we just sometimes get very lucky and can work around it. I don't at all feel like I'm going to be one of those lucky people.
I cried harder yesterday than I have in a long time, probably since my sister lost the triplets. Deep body wracking sobs that made my hyperventilate. I don't feel any better today. I had hoped that with sleep, peace would come. I feel...empty, desolate, devoid of anything positive. I think we are going to blow through our savings waiting for M to find a job. I think my cat is going to die. I think I'm going to spend the next ten years getting fatter, hairier, and more barren if that's even possible.
I really need *something* good to happen. But I just can't bring myself to believe that is possible anymore.
My cat is sick. One vet appointment and $250 later, we still have no idea what's wrong with him, as his blood and urine came back totally healthy and normal. So why isn't he eating, why isn't he drinking, and why hasn't he used his pan? I feel like he'll be dead in a week and I'll never know why.
I don't know if it was the worry over the cat, or just a combination of *everything* that has sucked lately, but I started crying at the doctor's office yesterday and didn't stop for several hours. For the first time, Dr. B was not remotely reassuring to me. We were supposed to just go over the surgery and answer any questions I had. Somehow we got to talking about how out of control my PCOS symptoms feel and basically what he said was, if I haven't cut every scrap of carbs out of my diet, I'm not trying hard enough and I have nothing to complain about. He then followed up that helpful tidbit by telling me that for some women, they can be on the best med combinations, exercise, and never touch carbs, and *maybe* their symptoms won't get any worse - they won't improve any, but at least they won't get worse. Cue noose tying...
I honestly don't know why everything Dr. B said was about the worst thing anyone could say to me, but it kept going. He's got diabetes and you don't see him crying - sure he misses carbs. And wouldn't I feel worse if I had, say, cancer? See, its not so bad when you compare it to something that is really bad. I wanted to scream at him that I'm not interested in playing the pain olympics. Instead I just cried. Cried out of frustration, cried out of pure exhaustion. Cried because I get the distinct feeling that God doesn't like me very much. That everything I am doing is wrong, and that's why I'm failing miserably. And you know what? There is a good chance the PCOS will kill me eventually. It increases my risks for developing all kinds of serious health problems. And it only gets worse as I get older. And there is no cure. So his cancer comparison is pretty fucking stupid, if you ask me.
I don't feel hopeful at all and anyone suggesting I should be, I just want to punch in the face. I'm not going to get pregnant, I'm never going to lose a shred of weight no matter how hard I try, and as Dr. B so kindly pointed out to me, every gram of carbs I eat is poisoning me. So now every meal is fraught with guilt. Like I don't have enough of that right now. I can't beat something that has complete control over my body, with a viscous cycle that feeds back into itself making things worse and worse. No matter what anyone says, we never "beat" PCOS, we just sometimes get very lucky and can work around it. I don't at all feel like I'm going to be one of those lucky people.
I cried harder yesterday than I have in a long time, probably since my sister lost the triplets. Deep body wracking sobs that made my hyperventilate. I don't feel any better today. I had hoped that with sleep, peace would come. I feel...empty, desolate, devoid of anything positive. I think we are going to blow through our savings waiting for M to find a job. I think my cat is going to die. I think I'm going to spend the next ten years getting fatter, hairier, and more barren if that's even possible.
I really need *something* good to happen. But I just can't bring myself to believe that is possible anymore.
May 01, 2012
My New Hobby
My new hobby is apparently taking months long hiatuses (hiati?) from TTC and doing nothing but wasting time.
Dr. B's office called. Finally. While I was in the shower. Of course. And the message left said that, while *their* schedule was open for me to have surgery on the 10th, the main house surgery unit had a conflict. So we have to re-schedule. And its lunch time in their office, so the phone line won't accept any messages. No, I have to wait until 1pm to leave a message because no one ever answers the nurse line. And then wait for a call back which may or may not happen today. Or tomorrow. Or the next day. To *hopefully* schedule the surgery for 17th. Which means TTC in July is most likely not an option anymore.
Okay God, I am so done with you teaching me patience. Fuck your patience. Why can't something go right for me?? Why is this taking so damn long? My friend is pregnant with her SECOND CHILD. At this rate I will be very, very lucky to have ONE child in my entire child-bearing years.
I have noticed, in the past month, that my emotions vacillate wildly these days. My frustration is on a hair-pin trigger anymore. I jump right to the most negative conclusion possible until it is proven otherwise. I still bounce back from these downer trips quickly, if the occasion calls for it. Like yesterday with the insurance mix up and phone call. I was nearly in tears one minute and laughing and smiling 10 minutes later.
I'm glad I can still bounce back quickly, but I don't know how to control my immediate drop into despair at the slightest set back. I'm just so. tire. of WAITING! Tell me yes, you'll have children, or tell me no, its not possible so I can MOVE ON WITH MY LIFE! Instead of living with my head in the guillotine, wondering if or when the blade will fall.
After months and months of negative tests, zero progress, and my body proving time and again it is more jacked up than I ever thought, its hard to not assume the worst. Why *would* something good happen now? The past year and some has taught me to expect nothing good - only more challenge, more heartache, more disappointment. I don't really see an end to this battle...just more failure, more wasted time, cycle after cycle. I almost don't know what I'm doing. What? I'm trying to get pregnant? Because it seems like all the doctors appointments, blood draws, pills, and ultrasounds are just about learning how effed up my body is. How bad will it be this month? What new, unexpected setback will we find this cycle? Its a fun game and it ends when I am emotionally and physically exhausted and have decided, okay I think I know now how broken I am.
This isn't "TTC", it's just self-abuse.
Dr. B's office called. Finally. While I was in the shower. Of course. And the message left said that, while *their* schedule was open for me to have surgery on the 10th, the main house surgery unit had a conflict. So we have to re-schedule. And its lunch time in their office, so the phone line won't accept any messages. No, I have to wait until 1pm to leave a message because no one ever answers the nurse line. And then wait for a call back which may or may not happen today. Or tomorrow. Or the next day. To *hopefully* schedule the surgery for 17th. Which means TTC in July is most likely not an option anymore.
Okay God, I am so done with you teaching me patience. Fuck your patience. Why can't something go right for me?? Why is this taking so damn long? My friend is pregnant with her SECOND CHILD. At this rate I will be very, very lucky to have ONE child in my entire child-bearing years.
I have noticed, in the past month, that my emotions vacillate wildly these days. My frustration is on a hair-pin trigger anymore. I jump right to the most negative conclusion possible until it is proven otherwise. I still bounce back from these downer trips quickly, if the occasion calls for it. Like yesterday with the insurance mix up and phone call. I was nearly in tears one minute and laughing and smiling 10 minutes later.
I'm glad I can still bounce back quickly, but I don't know how to control my immediate drop into despair at the slightest set back. I'm just so. tire. of WAITING! Tell me yes, you'll have children, or tell me no, its not possible so I can MOVE ON WITH MY LIFE! Instead of living with my head in the guillotine, wondering if or when the blade will fall.
After months and months of negative tests, zero progress, and my body proving time and again it is more jacked up than I ever thought, its hard to not assume the worst. Why *would* something good happen now? The past year and some has taught me to expect nothing good - only more challenge, more heartache, more disappointment. I don't really see an end to this battle...just more failure, more wasted time, cycle after cycle. I almost don't know what I'm doing. What? I'm trying to get pregnant? Because it seems like all the doctors appointments, blood draws, pills, and ultrasounds are just about learning how effed up my body is. How bad will it be this month? What new, unexpected setback will we find this cycle? Its a fun game and it ends when I am emotionally and physically exhausted and have decided, okay I think I know now how broken I am.
This isn't "TTC", it's just self-abuse.
April 17, 2012
Hard Questions
I've learned of two pregnancies today. One from a Fertile, one from an Infertile. I'm proud of myself for reacting coolly to both, but still so disappointed in myself and my situation. I think bitter thoughts, I compose Face Book status updates that I would never post, I quietly lick my wounds while simultaneously beating myself up.
My fertile friend was very nice about telling me of her pregnancy. Much better than with her first pregnancy. Oh yes, this is her second child. Her first born is 7 months old. She conceived again when he wasn't even 6 months old. Yep, she's breastfeeding too, which I always heard was a natural fertility suppressor, though not 100% *obviously*.
See, I feel so guilty for that whole paragraph. I'm not spewing vitriol or swearing up a storm - I am handling this on the outside in a rather zen fashion. But that paragraph only scratches the tip of the iceberg of rotten thoughts that run unbidden through my mind. When I first read her announcement, my knee jerk reaction was: "Jeez, *already*? Save some babies for the rest of us, huh?" And I immediately felt ashamed and stupid. She could have a litter of children and it wouldn't impact my chances of getting pregnant the tiniest bit. So why do I have these thoughts?
She's a fabulous mother, she was practically born prepared to handle children. Its not like she's the crack whore down the street having her fifth welfare baby. I think, belonging to this community, though, I don't just feel things for myself, I feel them on behalf of IFs everywhere. I feel protective of everyone I know (and those I don't know) who is battling this same war with me. Yes, my fertile friend is a wonderful mother and strongly feels the call to be a parent, but what about us? What about all the strong, intelligent, awesome women I know, who feel the call to be a mother in their *bones*, and can't seem to get their take-home baby? Why is my fertile friend allowed to realize her dreams while others aren't?
I believe that everyone in life has their own cross to bear. Just because you don't know what another person's burden is, doesn't mean its not there. Clearly we have all been given the cross of infertility, but I imagine you all have other burdens, much like I do, that seem to heap up on top of the already painful and emotional struggle with IF. So when my beautiful friend, with the wonderful husband who has a *fabulous* and very well paying job, conceives her second child in just over a year from the conception of the first child, I am left wondering what cross she's bearing. And then I judge myself harshly for thinking that, for wondering whether the baby will be healthy, will someone get sick, will her husband die - what cross is she or will she bear that will somehow make me feel like good and ill were meted out equally to us both???
And then I judge myself some more because it sounds like I *want* bad things to happen to her. Which I definitely do not, she is my friend after all. Life isn't fair, so maybe she will have a fabulous, easy life, while I deal with IF, money issues, and all the many and varied increased risks for serious health problems throughout my life that are just part and parcel with PCOS. And if that's the case, I have to learn how to deal with it. Because thinking mean thoughts and hating Fertiles isn't going to change anything (I don't *hate* Fertiles, but you see what I mean). And it doesn't make me feel better, it makes things worse because then I feel guilty.
Some people contract deadly forms of cancer and somehow remain serene about their lot. They don't bitterly remind people they are dying all the time, they allow others to simply be. And then, some people contract the same cancer and become bitter towards everyone and everything, and I don't blame them. But how does one become the serene person, accepting their fate and not the bitter person that everyone pities, but also avoids. And don't those cancer patients have it way worse than me, so what the hell am I complaining about? I think this is why Mel says no one wins when you play the Pain Olympics...
Am I too hard on myself? I'm just trying not to become some horrible, demoralized, bitter, rotten human being that nobody wants to be around. Its bad enough that I basically *am* that person one day every month, when I get my negative pregnancy test.
There's not much to distract me from my dissatisfaction right now. With no money, no job prospects for M, and a lack of hope for baby making, there's just lots and lots of time to think about how badly I want to move forward in life. Just a small breeze in the sails is all I'm asking for, a *tiny* bit of forward momentum so that I can get my energy and my purpose back. Because what am I working towards day after day if the budget keeps increasing and our income stays the same? And though the newspaper claims our state is in need of college educated workers, no one calls M for an interview? And with no children or money, why even hope for a house someday? Does my Fertile friend have the right dream and I have the wrong one?
I feel adrift on the sea of life and when I look up for guidance, there's no clear answer.
My fertile friend was very nice about telling me of her pregnancy. Much better than with her first pregnancy. Oh yes, this is her second child. Her first born is 7 months old. She conceived again when he wasn't even 6 months old. Yep, she's breastfeeding too, which I always heard was a natural fertility suppressor, though not 100% *obviously*.
See, I feel so guilty for that whole paragraph. I'm not spewing vitriol or swearing up a storm - I am handling this on the outside in a rather zen fashion. But that paragraph only scratches the tip of the iceberg of rotten thoughts that run unbidden through my mind. When I first read her announcement, my knee jerk reaction was: "Jeez, *already*? Save some babies for the rest of us, huh?" And I immediately felt ashamed and stupid. She could have a litter of children and it wouldn't impact my chances of getting pregnant the tiniest bit. So why do I have these thoughts?
She's a fabulous mother, she was practically born prepared to handle children. Its not like she's the crack whore down the street having her fifth welfare baby. I think, belonging to this community, though, I don't just feel things for myself, I feel them on behalf of IFs everywhere. I feel protective of everyone I know (and those I don't know) who is battling this same war with me. Yes, my fertile friend is a wonderful mother and strongly feels the call to be a parent, but what about us? What about all the strong, intelligent, awesome women I know, who feel the call to be a mother in their *bones*, and can't seem to get their take-home baby? Why is my fertile friend allowed to realize her dreams while others aren't?
I believe that everyone in life has their own cross to bear. Just because you don't know what another person's burden is, doesn't mean its not there. Clearly we have all been given the cross of infertility, but I imagine you all have other burdens, much like I do, that seem to heap up on top of the already painful and emotional struggle with IF. So when my beautiful friend, with the wonderful husband who has a *fabulous* and very well paying job, conceives her second child in just over a year from the conception of the first child, I am left wondering what cross she's bearing. And then I judge myself harshly for thinking that, for wondering whether the baby will be healthy, will someone get sick, will her husband die - what cross is she or will she bear that will somehow make me feel like good and ill were meted out equally to us both???
And then I judge myself some more because it sounds like I *want* bad things to happen to her. Which I definitely do not, she is my friend after all. Life isn't fair, so maybe she will have a fabulous, easy life, while I deal with IF, money issues, and all the many and varied increased risks for serious health problems throughout my life that are just part and parcel with PCOS. And if that's the case, I have to learn how to deal with it. Because thinking mean thoughts and hating Fertiles isn't going to change anything (I don't *hate* Fertiles, but you see what I mean). And it doesn't make me feel better, it makes things worse because then I feel guilty.
Some people contract deadly forms of cancer and somehow remain serene about their lot. They don't bitterly remind people they are dying all the time, they allow others to simply be. And then, some people contract the same cancer and become bitter towards everyone and everything, and I don't blame them. But how does one become the serene person, accepting their fate and not the bitter person that everyone pities, but also avoids. And don't those cancer patients have it way worse than me, so what the hell am I complaining about? I think this is why Mel says no one wins when you play the Pain Olympics...
Am I too hard on myself? I'm just trying not to become some horrible, demoralized, bitter, rotten human being that nobody wants to be around. Its bad enough that I basically *am* that person one day every month, when I get my negative pregnancy test.
There's not much to distract me from my dissatisfaction right now. With no money, no job prospects for M, and a lack of hope for baby making, there's just lots and lots of time to think about how badly I want to move forward in life. Just a small breeze in the sails is all I'm asking for, a *tiny* bit of forward momentum so that I can get my energy and my purpose back. Because what am I working towards day after day if the budget keeps increasing and our income stays the same? And though the newspaper claims our state is in need of college educated workers, no one calls M for an interview? And with no children or money, why even hope for a house someday? Does my Fertile friend have the right dream and I have the wrong one?
I feel adrift on the sea of life and when I look up for guidance, there's no clear answer.
April 03, 2012
Better Luck Next Time
I don't feel a whole lot better. I assumed that I was in such a pissy mood yesterday afternoon because I was stressing about Dr. B's office not calling me. I assumed I was still pissy after they called because it was rather annoying that they waited until the very end of the day. Also because someone I work with is inadvertently driving me CRAZY with how high maintenance he is. But this morning, everything is aggravating me. I went to my weight lifting class, happy to expend all my angry energy on the different machines.
I didn't feel a whole lot better. I just felt like crying instead of wringing someone's neck. I know this is hormonal, I know this isn't really how I feel. But I'm so, so sad and angry because this is how I get before AF rears her ugly head. And my boobs aren't sore anymore. At all.
I lost, the PCOS won. I even saw my one dark chin hair trying to grow back yesterday. ::sarcastically:: Thank you testosterone! Not only do you make it impossible for me to get pregnant, but you're also trying to turn me into Danny DeVito! Gosh, you're talented!
I know that women with PCOS have good odds of eventually getting and staying pregnant. Most of the PCOS blogs on Mel's Blogroll have become parenting after infertility. That should make me happy. But for some reason, I just can't believe it will happen for me. I can see myself living childless. Not happy, exactly, but not really *unhappy* either. I've lived a fulfilling life without children up to this point, I guess. I could keep doing that with only occasional bouts of depression.
I'm not saying I'm giving up, I'm just....not in a good place in my head thanks to all these rotten hormones. I don't even want to test Friday. But if I don't, I can't drink until AF shows and how will I get through Easter dinner without alcohol? (since I'm not expecting the Witch until Monday). I was hoping that promising myself alcohol if this didn't work would soften the blow. But then, I also thought I could protect myself from getting my hopes up too much. I never assumed I *was* pregnant, but it was nice to not have any proof to the contrary.
February 23, 2012
Feeling....Ranty?
Good news, everyone! J's ultrasound showed one healthy little embryo and a flickering heartbeat (still to early to hear it, I guess) - awesome! So excited for her. She's gone through enough heartache and deserves some happiness now.
I'm so glad her uterus is being a gracious hostess to that precious little package. My uterus, on the other hand, is earning a permanent membership on my shit list. The fertile signs continue... now a very high, very soft, and very open cervix, and a tiny bit of spotting. These are in addition to the EWCM which is, of course, continuing to mock me.
I'm sure you're wondering why I'm pissed rather than overjoyed that my body *appears* to want to spontaneously ovulate. I suppose it could be a good sign. Or maybe its just months of clomid *finally* kicking in. But the thing is, WE'RE ON A BREAK! (a la Ross and Rachel).
Last month, when I decided I couldn't take the disappointment anymore, I thought "Well, at least I know that I can rest and be sure *nothing* will happen. No period, no fertile symptoms, nothing. Because if clomid can't help, then my body is more broken than I thought". Every time I think I know something "for sure", I turn out to be wrong. I feel like a dog pulling on its leash and each time I lunge forward, the man walking me does a 180 and yanks me the other way. I'm sick of it! Can't I have anything the way I want it? EVER? I just wanted a fucking break from all the wondering and worrying and obsessing and LOOK AT WHAT I'M DOING!
::sigh:: I'm trying to roll with it. I'm *trying* to be all Doris Day "Que sera sera"... What I feel like is Lewis Black, *freaking* out over something stupid! I don't want to squander this possible opportunity to get pregnant, but I also don't want to fall flat on my face and make an ass of myself! I don't want to force M and I to have sex even if we don't feel like it - we did that for far too long! And there's something sick and twisted about the fact that any time I "give up", my body decides *that's* the time to work!
...I am not amused....
I'm so glad her uterus is being a gracious hostess to that precious little package. My uterus, on the other hand, is earning a permanent membership on my shit list. The fertile signs continue... now a very high, very soft, and very open cervix, and a tiny bit of spotting. These are in addition to the EWCM which is, of course, continuing to mock me.
I'm sure you're wondering why I'm pissed rather than overjoyed that my body *appears* to want to spontaneously ovulate. I suppose it could be a good sign. Or maybe its just months of clomid *finally* kicking in. But the thing is, WE'RE ON A BREAK! (a la Ross and Rachel).
Last month, when I decided I couldn't take the disappointment anymore, I thought "Well, at least I know that I can rest and be sure *nothing* will happen. No period, no fertile symptoms, nothing. Because if clomid can't help, then my body is more broken than I thought". Every time I think I know something "for sure", I turn out to be wrong. I feel like a dog pulling on its leash and each time I lunge forward, the man walking me does a 180 and yanks me the other way. I'm sick of it! Can't I have anything the way I want it? EVER? I just wanted a fucking break from all the wondering and worrying and obsessing and LOOK AT WHAT I'M DOING!
::sigh:: I'm trying to roll with it. I'm *trying* to be all Doris Day "Que sera sera"... What I feel like is Lewis Black, *freaking* out over something stupid! I don't want to squander this possible opportunity to get pregnant, but I also don't want to fall flat on my face and make an ass of myself! I don't want to force M and I to have sex even if we don't feel like it - we did that for far too long! And there's something sick and twisted about the fact that any time I "give up", my body decides *that's* the time to work!
...I am not amused....
February 21, 2012
ICLW Welcome
Hello!
Welcome to International Comment Leaving Week, or IComLeavWe, or ICLW.
I am Curly Sue and this is my second month of participation in ICLW. A little background for any visitors: I'm married to M. My sister is J. J and I both have PCOS. J is very recently pregnant, so sometimes I will be talking about that (in case that's a painful subject for you at the moment). M and I are on a TTC break until I get back from a trip at the end of March. Somehow, I still find plenty of IF and PCOS things to whine about on a daily basis. Lucky you ::wink::.
So, the latest drama with my ovaries is this: EWCM last night and this morning. I'd like to take a page out of the Saturday Night Live book and say, "Really?!?!!" Really, body, *really*? We're gonna do this? Now? That's really cute and spiteful of you, but I'm not falling for it. I know this game, remember? We played this game for four fucking months while I suffered through hotflashes trying to get your stupid ass to work right. I know how this goes - you gear up to O, showing off all these signs and symptoms, and after I've made a fool of myself temping, and having sex til I'm sick of it, you fail to follow through! You drop the ball! You cease to work! *You* are an Ex-Parrot! Ok, I feel a little better... I suppose it wouldn't hurt to go along with it and schedule some extra sexy time... But I am *not* temping or doing anything else! I'll know in a few weeks if it was something or nothing. Stupid body...
Sometimes I like to engage the viewer with some questions. Such as, Does it weird you out when people share everything including the state of their cervical mucus and when they will have sexy time? Do you think there is a way to blog about IF and *not* over-share? All my modesty has long since gone out the window, but I often wonder if others in the ALI community are uncomfortable with excess sharing.
Welcome to International Comment Leaving Week, or IComLeavWe, or ICLW.
I am Curly Sue and this is my second month of participation in ICLW. A little background for any visitors: I'm married to M. My sister is J. J and I both have PCOS. J is very recently pregnant, so sometimes I will be talking about that (in case that's a painful subject for you at the moment). M and I are on a TTC break until I get back from a trip at the end of March. Somehow, I still find plenty of IF and PCOS things to whine about on a daily basis. Lucky you ::wink::.
So, the latest drama with my ovaries is this: EWCM last night and this morning. I'd like to take a page out of the Saturday Night Live book and say, "Really?!?!!" Really, body, *really*? We're gonna do this? Now? That's really cute and spiteful of you, but I'm not falling for it. I know this game, remember? We played this game for four fucking months while I suffered through hotflashes trying to get your stupid ass to work right. I know how this goes - you gear up to O, showing off all these signs and symptoms, and after I've made a fool of myself temping, and having sex til I'm sick of it, you fail to follow through! You drop the ball! You cease to work! *You* are an Ex-Parrot! Ok, I feel a little better... I suppose it wouldn't hurt to go along with it and schedule some extra sexy time... But I am *not* temping or doing anything else! I'll know in a few weeks if it was something or nothing. Stupid body...
Sometimes I like to engage the viewer with some questions. Such as, Does it weird you out when people share everything including the state of their cervical mucus and when they will have sexy time? Do you think there is a way to blog about IF and *not* over-share? All my modesty has long since gone out the window, but I often wonder if others in the ALI community are uncomfortable with excess sharing.
February 08, 2012
Waiting
I am not a patient person. I *hate* waiting. I especially hate waiting when the duration of the wait is unknown. Like waiting for my appointment at my GYN's. Sure my appointment time might be 9:30, but that's not when I'll get called back. And no one knows when it will be. I can wait for an anticipated movie to come out, because it has a release date. I *know* how long I have to wait, and I *know* that wait gets shorter the more time passes.
Infertility affords one with many intangible things to wait for. Wait for your period. Wait to ovulate. Wait to see your doctor. Wait to stop spotting. Wait to take a test. Wait for cycle after cycle after cycle to get pregnant. The waiting wouldn't be so hard if you *knew* these things would happen, or *when* they would happen. But you might not ovulate. You might not get your period. And all but one special cycle will fail to give you a take home baby (if you get one at all).
If I only knew how long the wait would be.
I know I've read that same sentiment from so many other IF bloggers, but it really is the crux of all our pain. If I only knew whether it will eventually, or will never, work. If I only knew how long it would take. Then I could get through this with a smile. Then I wouldn't cry at every pregnancy announcement, every failed cycle. Then I'd *know* the wait gets shorter the more time passes - instead of wondering if I'm wasting my time, my money, and my emotional energy.
Dr. B's office finally got back to me and told me to, get this: wait. Let's just wait and see and if in 2 weeks I have what looks like another period or if the spotting continues, then they'll bring me in for an ultrasound and blood work. Sure, let's just wait and see. The spotting has gotten much more under control, but its definitely still going. For now, I've calmed down and I don't feel like ripping my hair out. But I imagine that will return before the 2 weeks is up. God, I'm impatient.
Infertility affords one with many intangible things to wait for. Wait for your period. Wait to ovulate. Wait to see your doctor. Wait to stop spotting. Wait to take a test. Wait for cycle after cycle after cycle to get pregnant. The waiting wouldn't be so hard if you *knew* these things would happen, or *when* they would happen. But you might not ovulate. You might not get your period. And all but one special cycle will fail to give you a take home baby (if you get one at all).
If I only knew how long the wait would be.
I know I've read that same sentiment from so many other IF bloggers, but it really is the crux of all our pain. If I only knew whether it will eventually, or will never, work. If I only knew how long it would take. Then I could get through this with a smile. Then I wouldn't cry at every pregnancy announcement, every failed cycle. Then I'd *know* the wait gets shorter the more time passes - instead of wondering if I'm wasting my time, my money, and my emotional energy.
Dr. B's office finally got back to me and told me to, get this: wait. Let's just wait and see and if in 2 weeks I have what looks like another period or if the spotting continues, then they'll bring me in for an ultrasound and blood work. Sure, let's just wait and see. The spotting has gotten much more under control, but its definitely still going. For now, I've calmed down and I don't feel like ripping my hair out. But I imagine that will return before the 2 weeks is up. God, I'm impatient.
February 03, 2012
See Spot
See Spot spotting. See Spot still spotting even 2 weeks after my period. See Curly Sue getting ticked off that Spot won't go the hell away!
I'm supposed to be relaxing and enjoying my time off the infertility roller coaster. I wasn't upset when Dr. B didn't offer me birth control pills for during the break. I thought, hey, it will be more interesting to see if the increased metformin regulates my cycles. I'm pretty much over that thought right now.
Now I'm worried about low estrogen because I can't think of any other reason that I would be spotting red for so. freaking. long. It shows no sign of letting up and its really putting a damper on things in the bedroom with M. Not cool. ::sigh:: I hate my body. Google isn't really helping me out because constant spotting can signal anything from hormone fluctuation to cervical cancer. And I don't know how long I should wait before calling Dr. B's office. I *want* to call right now, if only because the inconvenience of it is stressing me out. I *think* I should wait another week and see if it stops, or even slows. If it hasn't then I will definitely call. But what do I say? Can I ask for BCPs? I'd like to demand them, honestly... Is it worth it to ask for testing? I have a history of bleeding until near death, so does that warrant a closer look?
Honestly, I just want it to stop so I can go back to relaxing. Stupid, f'ing body, it never gives me a break.
Update: Thank you all for your advice. I talked to my mom and decided to call Dr. B's office. I left a message on the nurses' line before noon and even though their voicemail assures the caller they will call back, they didn't. I guess they had a busy afternoon :-\ The spotting got much worse throughout the day, then the cramps started and now (TMI) I'm passing small clots. I give up, I just fucking give up.
I'm supposed to be relaxing and enjoying my time off the infertility roller coaster. I wasn't upset when Dr. B didn't offer me birth control pills for during the break. I thought, hey, it will be more interesting to see if the increased metformin regulates my cycles. I'm pretty much over that thought right now.
Now I'm worried about low estrogen because I can't think of any other reason that I would be spotting red for so. freaking. long. It shows no sign of letting up and its really putting a damper on things in the bedroom with M. Not cool. ::sigh:: I hate my body. Google isn't really helping me out because constant spotting can signal anything from hormone fluctuation to cervical cancer. And I don't know how long I should wait before calling Dr. B's office. I *want* to call right now, if only because the inconvenience of it is stressing me out. I *think* I should wait another week and see if it stops, or even slows. If it hasn't then I will definitely call. But what do I say? Can I ask for BCPs? I'd like to demand them, honestly... Is it worth it to ask for testing? I have a history of bleeding until near death, so does that warrant a closer look?
Honestly, I just want it to stop so I can go back to relaxing. Stupid, f'ing body, it never gives me a break.
Update: Thank you all for your advice. I talked to my mom and decided to call Dr. B's office. I left a message on the nurses' line before noon and even though their voicemail assures the caller they will call back, they didn't. I guess they had a busy afternoon :-\ The spotting got much worse throughout the day, then the cramps started and now (TMI) I'm passing small clots. I give up, I just fucking give up.
January 23, 2012
Mildly Sub-Fertile?
I don't know if its because I was raised by two nurses, or if its a control thing, or maybe an infertile thing, but it irritates the crap out of me when doctors' offices give you answers like "mildly sub-fertile" "not consistent with ovulation" and other equally ambiguous statements masquerading as useful information. Dude, just give me the NUMBERS. I'll use my google-fu and figure out the answers, thank you.
I didn't expect to hear anything about M's SA until we met with Dr. B tomorrow. Well, the results were also sent to Dr. P's office and they decided to give me a call. The results show, in Dr. P's opinion, we are working with "mildly sub-fertile" sperm. O-kaaaay... What am I supposed to do with this information? What was it? Motility? Morphology? Total quantity?? Liquification?? YOU HAVE TOLD ME NOTHING.
::deep breath:: Honestly, I'm handling the (lack of) information very well. I expected I might cry, or get grumpy or moody. But I have continued about my day in much the same way I expect I would have if the office had not called. And I haven't told anyone either, which is strange for me. I'm one of those people for whom something isn't real until I share it with another person. Although, I guess I am sharing it here with whoever (whomever?) is reading... Nah, you guys don't count ;-)
We have our big consult with Dr. B tomorrow and I can pry the specific numbers out of him, so I don't want to worry about it until then. This does give me about 24 hours to worry about how M will react to the news. I've suspected I would have fertility issues since my body tried to kill me in the 8th grade. Then my sister was diagnosed PCOS a year or two ahead of me, so I had time to get used to the idea that this might be my world. It came on gradually over time, coalescing into a diagnosis in 2006. I don't know what it would be like to have no idea something was wrong and then be slapped in the face with "mildly sub-fertile", whatever the fuck that means...
Dr. P recommended IUI, that's about $1400 per cycle. I don't know how I feel about that. Thank God we are taking a break right now. It gives us time to digest all the new information and come up with an informed decision and plan. And money. It gives us a little more time to come up with all. the. MONEY. Fucking infertility.
On a related note, if you are the praying sort, please keep M in your prayers. He has been looking for a job since November and the *perfect* job just came open at the university I work for. If he got this job...God, I'm afraid to even dream about the amazing possibilities. We'd certainly be able to afford a few IUI cycles, that's for sure. So, yeah, prayers are welcome and appreciated. How's everyone's ICLW going? I'm loving it! ;-)
I didn't expect to hear anything about M's SA until we met with Dr. B tomorrow. Well, the results were also sent to Dr. P's office and they decided to give me a call. The results show, in Dr. P's opinion, we are working with "mildly sub-fertile" sperm. O-kaaaay... What am I supposed to do with this information? What was it? Motility? Morphology? Total quantity?? Liquification?? YOU HAVE TOLD ME NOTHING.
::deep breath:: Honestly, I'm handling the (lack of) information very well. I expected I might cry, or get grumpy or moody. But I have continued about my day in much the same way I expect I would have if the office had not called. And I haven't told anyone either, which is strange for me. I'm one of those people for whom something isn't real until I share it with another person. Although, I guess I am sharing it here with whoever (whomever?) is reading... Nah, you guys don't count ;-)
We have our big consult with Dr. B tomorrow and I can pry the specific numbers out of him, so I don't want to worry about it until then. This does give me about 24 hours to worry about how M will react to the news. I've suspected I would have fertility issues since my body tried to kill me in the 8th grade. Then my sister was diagnosed PCOS a year or two ahead of me, so I had time to get used to the idea that this might be my world. It came on gradually over time, coalescing into a diagnosis in 2006. I don't know what it would be like to have no idea something was wrong and then be slapped in the face with "mildly sub-fertile", whatever the fuck that means...
Dr. P recommended IUI, that's about $1400 per cycle. I don't know how I feel about that. Thank God we are taking a break right now. It gives us time to digest all the new information and come up with an informed decision and plan. And money. It gives us a little more time to come up with all. the. MONEY. Fucking infertility.
On a related note, if you are the praying sort, please keep M in your prayers. He has been looking for a job since November and the *perfect* job just came open at the university I work for. If he got this job...God, I'm afraid to even dream about the amazing possibilities. We'd certainly be able to afford a few IUI cycles, that's for sure. So, yeah, prayers are welcome and appreciated. How's everyone's ICLW going? I'm loving it! ;-)
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