Everyone in the entire fucking planet is pregnant again. Even every single fucking character on every fucking TV show is mother fucking PREGNANT.
That is all.
--Trish
Monday, October 29, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Speechless
My husband's continued positive attitude still astounds me. David made a comment tonight that started "Just think, someday we'll be bringing our kids over to Grandpa Roberts.." (we were leaving my dad's house) and I actually gaped at him a moment because he said it so assuredly. I wish I felt that certain.
He wasn't really talking about the path to parenthood at all. He was actually making a joke about the road to my dad's house ever being fixed. (It's been under construction & completely closed FOR.EV.ER.) But he just announced it. Pure, unadulterated hope. Just thrown out there like it was common.
I, however, was unable to respond.
I always say "maybe someday we'll.." or "If we're lucky enough to have kids..." always with the recognition that it isn't a given.
I'm actually glad to know he still thinks positively. Even though his optimism sometimes (often) annoys the shit out of me, it's part of who he is, and I'd hate to see IF beat that out of him.
In that same vein, I was actually dumbfounded the other day because I genuinely had no clue how to respond to something said to me. It wasn't rude or anything. As a matter of fact, I probably would have had a better (any?!) response to something rude 'cause I'm so used to that rude now.
The background is that there is a woman at work who we'll call J. Now there is lots of history between J & I, mostly bad, but it's not really pertinent to the story except to say that she's one of those people that I never expect to be supportive AT. ALL. but has actually turned out to be probably one of the most supportive & least stupid-shit-saying people I know.
I'm going to include a little history only so that you realize that this is not a woman who speaks haphazardly.
Several months ago we were all talking about sick time and I casually mentioned that the only time I'd been out sick in the last year was when I was off for my first (at that time - only) miscarriage. It wasn't a discussion about babies, but about being off work so I didn't expect a response. Most people are glad to have a reason to gloss over such a thing. To my surprise, she actually interrupted me to say she was sorry. In that "look you in the eye, I really mean I'm sorry not just trying to make you shut up" way.
Because of my surprise I simply said "thank you" and figured that was the end of it. I don't remember what she specifically said after that but she basically ended up telling me about her DIL's ectopic & subsequent trouble TTC. Her son & DIL now have 3 healthy boys, but she was not giving me the oh-so-hated "So & So had problems and now they have three kids" speech, but simply sharing a story about watching her DIL suffer through it and expressing her sympathy.
After my 2nd miscarriage, she sent her sympathies again. No one at work had known I was pregnant but since I was gone for so long, lots of people contacted me wondering if I was okay. Being the completely out of the closet lunatic that I am, I was honest. And honestly, it didn't bite me the ass. Most people ignored it, but a few were way more supportive than I expected.
One night a few weeks ago, a few of us at work were talking & something got brought up about people saying dumb shit to sick people. I nodded knowingly and mentioned that I get a lot of dumb comments about infertility & miscarriage.
J looked suddenly sad. She went on to tell me about her daughter who passed away a few days after birth. She was born at ~23 weeks and didn't live long. She told me about the box she has at home with her birth certificate & foot prints. We both cried.
She told me her mother always told her that it was a blessing the baby didn't live because there would have been something wrong with her. "She probably would have had a learning disability."
J said that she always responds to her mother, "So what?"
I shook my head in disappointment and replied, "As you though you wouldn't have loved her anyway? What in the hell is so hard about saying you're sorry and just shutting up?"
J agreed whole-heartedly. I could see her get angry about it all over again. More than two decades later & the memories were still clearly painful.
It might sound odd, but it was actually comforting to me to feel her pain all these years later. Not that I want her to be sad, but to know that her daughter is remembered. Somehow it meant something to me. Who knows why.
She then went on to tell me that she'd actually had a miscarriage before her two sons. The daughter that she lost was her last pregnancy. One of her sons was killed in a car accident just a couple of years ago. So much pain. And she'd been willing to open it all up to me.
My point in sharing all of this is simply to illustrate that this is not a woman who says things carelessly.
Cut to Friday evening. I was working intently. (Okay, let's be honest, I was probably playing online, but in any case, I was focused on my computer & not on what was going on around me.) I hear J say "That's what's going to happen to Trish," which gets my attention.
I look up and ask "What is going to happen to Trish?"
She explains that they were talking about a woman's feet getting larger when she gets pregnant. That was what is going to happen to me and they wouldn't get smaller again and none of my shoes would fit.
It was that kind of casual conversation that people who have never faced a possibility of never having children would have. Only, she wasn't one of those people. And she wasn't speaking all that casually.
My reaction: "........."
I think I might have squeaked out "oh." but I don't know that it was actually verbalized.
I wanted to argue that she had no idea if I'd ever have a baby. But it felt.......disrespectful. I was acutely aware that she aware of the meaning of her words. She had spoken them on purpose.
I'm rarely at a loss for words. (You may have noticed how wordy my blogs are. Yes, I'm like this all the time.) But I honestly don't know how to respond to hope.
People often say "Oh I know you'll be a mom someday" but it's almost always in that dismissive way, as though I am stupid for being worried. They don't actually have any idea what the odds are of that happening or how they dwindle continuously. It's essentially false hope.
That is easy to deal with. I dismiss it as quickly as they dismiss my reality.
But real hope? From people who actually DO know, but have hope anyway? From not-insensitive, been-through-it-people like J & my husband? It feels wrong to argue with them considering I know that they know the score. But it still feels just as wrong to accept it as fact.
I guess it goes back to my inability to speak of hope. So for now, I guess I'll remain speechless on hope.
I'll be sure to send some words to heaven to thank Him for surrounding me with it anyway.
--Trish
P.S. Much gratitude is also being sent both to heaven & to all of you who responded to my last post. It was a rough few days and your kind words truly helped.
He wasn't really talking about the path to parenthood at all. He was actually making a joke about the road to my dad's house ever being fixed. (It's been under construction & completely closed FOR.EV.ER.) But he just announced it. Pure, unadulterated hope. Just thrown out there like it was common.
I, however, was unable to respond.
I always say "maybe someday we'll.." or "If we're lucky enough to have kids..." always with the recognition that it isn't a given.
I'm actually glad to know he still thinks positively. Even though his optimism sometimes (often) annoys the shit out of me, it's part of who he is, and I'd hate to see IF beat that out of him.
In that same vein, I was actually dumbfounded the other day because I genuinely had no clue how to respond to something said to me. It wasn't rude or anything. As a matter of fact, I probably would have had a better (any?!) response to something rude 'cause I'm so used to that rude now.
The background is that there is a woman at work who we'll call J. Now there is lots of history between J & I, mostly bad, but it's not really pertinent to the story except to say that she's one of those people that I never expect to be supportive AT. ALL. but has actually turned out to be probably one of the most supportive & least stupid-shit-saying people I know.
I'm going to include a little history only so that you realize that this is not a woman who speaks haphazardly.
Several months ago we were all talking about sick time and I casually mentioned that the only time I'd been out sick in the last year was when I was off for my first (at that time - only) miscarriage. It wasn't a discussion about babies, but about being off work so I didn't expect a response. Most people are glad to have a reason to gloss over such a thing. To my surprise, she actually interrupted me to say she was sorry. In that "look you in the eye, I really mean I'm sorry not just trying to make you shut up" way.
Because of my surprise I simply said "thank you" and figured that was the end of it. I don't remember what she specifically said after that but she basically ended up telling me about her DIL's ectopic & subsequent trouble TTC. Her son & DIL now have 3 healthy boys, but she was not giving me the oh-so-hated "So & So had problems and now they have three kids" speech, but simply sharing a story about watching her DIL suffer through it and expressing her sympathy.
After my 2nd miscarriage, she sent her sympathies again. No one at work had known I was pregnant but since I was gone for so long, lots of people contacted me wondering if I was okay. Being the completely out of the closet lunatic that I am, I was honest. And honestly, it didn't bite me the ass. Most people ignored it, but a few were way more supportive than I expected.
One night a few weeks ago, a few of us at work were talking & something got brought up about people saying dumb shit to sick people. I nodded knowingly and mentioned that I get a lot of dumb comments about infertility & miscarriage.
J looked suddenly sad. She went on to tell me about her daughter who passed away a few days after birth. She was born at ~23 weeks and didn't live long. She told me about the box she has at home with her birth certificate & foot prints. We both cried.
She told me her mother always told her that it was a blessing the baby didn't live because there would have been something wrong with her. "She probably would have had a learning disability."
J said that she always responds to her mother, "So what?"
I shook my head in disappointment and replied, "As you though you wouldn't have loved her anyway? What in the hell is so hard about saying you're sorry and just shutting up?"
J agreed whole-heartedly. I could see her get angry about it all over again. More than two decades later & the memories were still clearly painful.
It might sound odd, but it was actually comforting to me to feel her pain all these years later. Not that I want her to be sad, but to know that her daughter is remembered. Somehow it meant something to me. Who knows why.
She then went on to tell me that she'd actually had a miscarriage before her two sons. The daughter that she lost was her last pregnancy. One of her sons was killed in a car accident just a couple of years ago. So much pain. And she'd been willing to open it all up to me.
My point in sharing all of this is simply to illustrate that this is not a woman who says things carelessly.
Cut to Friday evening. I was working intently. (Okay, let's be honest, I was probably playing online, but in any case, I was focused on my computer & not on what was going on around me.) I hear J say "That's what's going to happen to Trish," which gets my attention.
I look up and ask "What is going to happen to Trish?"
She explains that they were talking about a woman's feet getting larger when she gets pregnant. That was what is going to happen to me and they wouldn't get smaller again and none of my shoes would fit.
It was that kind of casual conversation that people who have never faced a possibility of never having children would have. Only, she wasn't one of those people. And she wasn't speaking all that casually.
My reaction: "........."
I think I might have squeaked out "oh." but I don't know that it was actually verbalized.
I wanted to argue that she had no idea if I'd ever have a baby. But it felt.......disrespectful. I was acutely aware that she aware of the meaning of her words. She had spoken them on purpose.
I'm rarely at a loss for words. (You may have noticed how wordy my blogs are. Yes, I'm like this all the time.) But I honestly don't know how to respond to hope.
People often say "Oh I know you'll be a mom someday" but it's almost always in that dismissive way, as though I am stupid for being worried. They don't actually have any idea what the odds are of that happening or how they dwindle continuously. It's essentially false hope.
That is easy to deal with. I dismiss it as quickly as they dismiss my reality.
But real hope? From people who actually DO know, but have hope anyway? From not-insensitive, been-through-it-people like J & my husband? It feels wrong to argue with them considering I know that they know the score. But it still feels just as wrong to accept it as fact.
I guess it goes back to my inability to speak of hope. So for now, I guess I'll remain speechless on hope.
I'll be sure to send some words to heaven to thank Him for surrounding me with it anyway.
--Trish
P.S. Much gratitude is also being sent both to heaven & to all of you who responded to my last post. It was a rough few days and your kind words truly helped.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Tears
Today has been an tear filled day.
I was officially lapped. I wish I could say I congratulated the lapper. I couldn't. I want so much to be happy, but all I felt was empty. Not even jealous. Just empty.
Another friend is in labor. Last word she was dialated to 7 and well on her way. She's not had an easy time. She took a year to conceive. They're both in the military. He's deployed & she's in a foreign country giving birth by herself. I would say it's not a position I envy, but we all know that's only partly true.
I am happy for her- but again- the emptiness. I can remember commiserating with her own jealousy when it just wasn't happening for her. And she's now giving birth to a baby girl. I'm still here waiting to start trying again.
I feel so disconnected from everything around me. I sat at my desk at work and cried tonight. Not for any specific reason. Just everything. I keep watching life moving on around me and I feel stuck. Same Trish. Different day.
Then tonight on the drive home from work, I found myself behind a stalled car near home. At first I pulled around them. But something told me to check. As they pushed their car to the side of the road, I backed up & asked if they needed a ride. They turned out to be out of gas and a little lost.
They were a nice couple. Probably around 40, newlyweds married only 3 months- Dave & Dorothy. As I drove them to 2 gas stations to find a gas can & then back to their car, they told me about how they'd given a woman a ride to the metro stop coming from the exhibit they'd just left. Funny how Karma found them so quickly.
When their car finally started, he shook my hand & she hugged me. I headed towards home & sobbed. I'd forgotten was it felt like to feel connected. How good it felt to actually feel joy.
All over 15 minute favor. Who knew?
--Trish
I was officially lapped. I wish I could say I congratulated the lapper. I couldn't. I want so much to be happy, but all I felt was empty. Not even jealous. Just empty.
Another friend is in labor. Last word she was dialated to 7 and well on her way. She's not had an easy time. She took a year to conceive. They're both in the military. He's deployed & she's in a foreign country giving birth by herself. I would say it's not a position I envy, but we all know that's only partly true.
I am happy for her- but again- the emptiness. I can remember commiserating with her own jealousy when it just wasn't happening for her. And she's now giving birth to a baby girl. I'm still here waiting to start trying again.
I feel so disconnected from everything around me. I sat at my desk at work and cried tonight. Not for any specific reason. Just everything. I keep watching life moving on around me and I feel stuck. Same Trish. Different day.
Then tonight on the drive home from work, I found myself behind a stalled car near home. At first I pulled around them. But something told me to check. As they pushed their car to the side of the road, I backed up & asked if they needed a ride. They turned out to be out of gas and a little lost.
They were a nice couple. Probably around 40, newlyweds married only 3 months- Dave & Dorothy. As I drove them to 2 gas stations to find a gas can & then back to their car, they told me about how they'd given a woman a ride to the metro stop coming from the exhibit they'd just left. Funny how Karma found them so quickly.
When their car finally started, he shook my hand & she hugged me. I headed towards home & sobbed. I'd forgotten was it felt like to feel connected. How good it felt to actually feel joy.
All over 15 minute favor. Who knew?
--Trish
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Sneak Attack
WHAM!
What was that noise you heard?
That was sorrow sneaking up on me.
Today (Saturday) was my husband's birthday. The day was actually nice. A friend was in from out of town. We had a long lunch & hung out. I got the house cleaned & got a cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory (Chocolate Mousse.. YUM!) and then got dressed up all prettified.
We met David's best friend and his fiance at David's favorite restaurant & had a lovely meal. Then we all headed back to our house to enjoy the cheesecake & good company.
On the drive home, we passed our local hockey arena. It also hosts a lot of concerts. It was brimming with people & well lit in the night, so it drew our attention.
David brought up a friend who paid an exorbitant amount of money for Hannah Montana tickets for the show at the arena. That lead to a conversation about what we'd spend money on for our kids. David mentioned that going to a baseball game would be different.
All of a sudden I could picture in my mind's eye David at a Cardinal's game with his son. I started to smile at the thought when all of a sudden the sadness overwhelmed me. I started to well up with tears before I even realized what had happened.
All I could think was that David may never have a son to take to a game and what a true tragedy that would truly be. I shook it off pretty quickly, but holy shit, did it get me good. Even typing this all out made me cry all over again.
David would be a great father and I'm not sure I'll ever see it come to fruition. That sucks.
--Trish
What was that noise you heard?
That was sorrow sneaking up on me.
Today (Saturday) was my husband's birthday. The day was actually nice. A friend was in from out of town. We had a long lunch & hung out. I got the house cleaned & got a cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory (Chocolate Mousse.. YUM!) and then got dressed up all prettified.
We met David's best friend and his fiance at David's favorite restaurant & had a lovely meal. Then we all headed back to our house to enjoy the cheesecake & good company.
On the drive home, we passed our local hockey arena. It also hosts a lot of concerts. It was brimming with people & well lit in the night, so it drew our attention.
David brought up a friend who paid an exorbitant amount of money for Hannah Montana tickets for the show at the arena. That lead to a conversation about what we'd spend money on for our kids. David mentioned that going to a baseball game would be different.
All of a sudden I could picture in my mind's eye David at a Cardinal's game with his son. I started to smile at the thought when all of a sudden the sadness overwhelmed me. I started to well up with tears before I even realized what had happened.
All I could think was that David may never have a son to take to a game and what a true tragedy that would truly be. I shook it off pretty quickly, but holy shit, did it get me good. Even typing this all out made me cry all over again.
David would be a great father and I'm not sure I'll ever see it come to fruition. That sucks.
--Trish
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Surgery
Well, step 5 is complete.
I had surgery on Wednesday at noon. It turned out not to be a septum after all. Instead, it was what my doctor told my husband was a giant polyp.
I don't have a lot of details because Dr. M talked to David. I love my husband, but he's not so good with the details. All I know is that she told him it was the size of a finger. I don't know if that's width or what. I go back for my follow up appointment in 2 weeks. I'll get more details then.
She did tell him that it was so large that if our embies implanted anywhere near it, they wouldn't have grown correctly. So I'm assuming it was at the top of the uterus where the septum would have been essentially causing the same effect.
Surgery went as well as could be expected. I think I talked with every person in the anesthesia department at the hospital about my trouble waking last time. I was pretty much told they couldn't guarantee it wouldn't happen again, but they would do their best. I didn't have trouble, thankfully.
I had some nausea, but the anti-nausea drugs helped. I managed not to throw up, which was appreciated.
I had a headache & a sore throat afterward. I've managed to kill the headache with ibuprofen. The sore throat will probably last a day or two. Nothing traumatic, though.
I was treated very well. I think the hospital has some special attractive person hiring practice. I've never seen so many gorgeous people in my life. The most attractive was a D.O. who was working in the first recovery room. He came & chatted for a long time.
He and his wife have twins from IVF. I assume someone must have said something to him about why I was there. He seemed to come to talk to me rather intentionally. He didn't read my chart first or anything. It was nice. I got the impression he doesn't get the opportunity to talk about it much. He talked to me for probably 15 minutes. Even mentioned how bitter you get after fighting so hard. He told me about his wife's OHSS and failed 1st IVF. He shared that they're trying some metformin now, hoping to get his wife it ovulate on her own, because they'd like more children.
It was a good talk. At the end he said he mostly came to talk to me to offer some hope. He said it in such a kind way that it nearly made me cry. It was certainly a better experience that the very pregnant woman who was wandering the recovery room after my last miscarriage.
In any case, I got really great treatment- mostly from very attractive men. (Nothing wrong with a little eye candy, right?) Now we just hope it did the trick.
Here's hoping that my next hospital stay is delivering a live, healthy, full term baby.
--Trish
I had surgery on Wednesday at noon. It turned out not to be a septum after all. Instead, it was what my doctor told my husband was a giant polyp.
I don't have a lot of details because Dr. M talked to David. I love my husband, but he's not so good with the details. All I know is that she told him it was the size of a finger. I don't know if that's width or what. I go back for my follow up appointment in 2 weeks. I'll get more details then.
She did tell him that it was so large that if our embies implanted anywhere near it, they wouldn't have grown correctly. So I'm assuming it was at the top of the uterus where the septum would have been essentially causing the same effect.
Surgery went as well as could be expected. I think I talked with every person in the anesthesia department at the hospital about my trouble waking last time. I was pretty much told they couldn't guarantee it wouldn't happen again, but they would do their best. I didn't have trouble, thankfully.
I had some nausea, but the anti-nausea drugs helped. I managed not to throw up, which was appreciated.
I had a headache & a sore throat afterward. I've managed to kill the headache with ibuprofen. The sore throat will probably last a day or two. Nothing traumatic, though.
I was treated very well. I think the hospital has some special attractive person hiring practice. I've never seen so many gorgeous people in my life. The most attractive was a D.O. who was working in the first recovery room. He came & chatted for a long time.
He and his wife have twins from IVF. I assume someone must have said something to him about why I was there. He seemed to come to talk to me rather intentionally. He didn't read my chart first or anything. It was nice. I got the impression he doesn't get the opportunity to talk about it much. He talked to me for probably 15 minutes. Even mentioned how bitter you get after fighting so hard. He told me about his wife's OHSS and failed 1st IVF. He shared that they're trying some metformin now, hoping to get his wife it ovulate on her own, because they'd like more children.
It was a good talk. At the end he said he mostly came to talk to me to offer some hope. He said it in such a kind way that it nearly made me cry. It was certainly a better experience that the very pregnant woman who was wandering the recovery room after my last miscarriage.
In any case, I got really great treatment- mostly from very attractive men. (Nothing wrong with a little eye candy, right?) Now we just hope it did the trick.
Here's hoping that my next hospital stay is delivering a live, healthy, full term baby.
--Trish
Monday, October 15, 2007
Miscarriage & Pregnancy Loss Awareness
Today is Miscarriage & Pregnancy Loss Awareness Day.
Click the graphic for more information.
There isn't much I can say that hasn't been said a hundred times.
I love & miss my angels every day.
My heart goes out to all those who have suffered this tragedy. May we all find some comfort in knowing we're not alone.
--Trish
Mommy To Two Angels. May they rest in peace.
Click the graphic for more information.
There isn't much I can say that hasn't been said a hundred times.
I love & miss my angels every day.
My heart goes out to all those who have suffered this tragedy. May we all find some comfort in knowing we're not alone.
--Trish
Mommy To Two Angels. May they rest in peace.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Pondering hope
Surgery is scheduled.
Wednesday at noon.
I've done some research on the septum. I came across some info that said that women with a septum have about an 18% chance at a successful pregnancy. After it's removed, success rates are close to normal.
I wish that I could take some great comfort in that. But I just keep thinking about all the stuff that statistically shouldn't have happened.
Chance of us experiencing miscarriage? 16%
Chance of both of us having problems? 10% (of the 16%)
Chance of 1 miscarriage? 20%
Chance of 2? 15%
Chance of a Septum? 1%
Everyone is so hopeful that this is "the answer." I want it to be, God knows I do. But all I can think is "what if it's not?"
A close friend who has recently given birth after a battle with IF & miscarriage wrote this week and told me that she knows it's hard to have hope, so she'd hope for me.
I gave a lot of thought to that and you know, hope is such a bittersweet emotion. Obviously I have some hope. We all have some hope- if we didn't, we wouldn't still be trying. But to speak of the hope, to admit it, to say it out loud- it makes me feel so vulnerable. I don't know what it is about saying it out loud that makes it more dangerous- but it does.
People who haven't been through it just don't get it. To have people tell me "But you have to think positive" makes me want to scream. YOU think positive. Me, I need my cynicism. I need to protect myself. After 2 years, 5 rounds of Clomid, 4 IUIs, 3 surgeries, 2 miscarriages, about 100 dildo-cammings, about a billion hoo-ha exams & still no baby- I beg of you, please leave me at least my cynicism.
I know it's probably an argument in semantics, but to hear "I am so hopeful for you" is a world of difference from "You have to have hope." Yeah. Maybe I DO have to hope. But do we have to talk about it?
And it's funny that hope I can have for other people. For friends suffering through the same things, I can feel such unadulterated joy when they win a battle. I can really hope for them. I can even say it out loud.
So the deal is this- you hope for me. I'll hope for you.
Trish
Wednesday at noon.
I've done some research on the septum. I came across some info that said that women with a septum have about an 18% chance at a successful pregnancy. After it's removed, success rates are close to normal.
I wish that I could take some great comfort in that. But I just keep thinking about all the stuff that statistically shouldn't have happened.
Chance of us experiencing miscarriage? 16%
Chance of both of us having problems? 10% (of the 16%)
Chance of 1 miscarriage? 20%
Chance of 2? 15%
Chance of a Septum? 1%
Everyone is so hopeful that this is "the answer." I want it to be, God knows I do. But all I can think is "what if it's not?"
A close friend who has recently given birth after a battle with IF & miscarriage wrote this week and told me that she knows it's hard to have hope, so she'd hope for me.
I gave a lot of thought to that and you know, hope is such a bittersweet emotion. Obviously I have some hope. We all have some hope- if we didn't, we wouldn't still be trying. But to speak of the hope, to admit it, to say it out loud- it makes me feel so vulnerable. I don't know what it is about saying it out loud that makes it more dangerous- but it does.
People who haven't been through it just don't get it. To have people tell me "But you have to think positive" makes me want to scream. YOU think positive. Me, I need my cynicism. I need to protect myself. After 2 years, 5 rounds of Clomid, 4 IUIs, 3 surgeries, 2 miscarriages, about 100 dildo-cammings, about a billion hoo-ha exams & still no baby- I beg of you, please leave me at least my cynicism.
I know it's probably an argument in semantics, but to hear "I am so hopeful for you" is a world of difference from "You have to have hope." Yeah. Maybe I DO have to hope. But do we have to talk about it?
And it's funny that hope I can have for other people. For friends suffering through the same things, I can feel such unadulterated joy when they win a battle. I can really hope for them. I can even say it out loud.
So the deal is this- you hope for me. I'll hope for you.
Trish
Monday, October 8, 2007
WTF
I have three quick things today. All are basically the same. What the fuck?
1. For those of you who are watching "Tell Me You Love Me"- and even for those who aren't. Have you ever heard of a doctor telling you to get on all fours after an IUI.
If you didn't watch- there is a scene where they're having an IUI (BTW- YAY for IUI on TV!) and they're asking how it went. The doctor tells them it went well. She mentions that the character has a tilted uterus & might want to get on all fours for a few minutes now that the insemination is done.
Now, I have a tilted uterus & have had some IUIs. I've *NEVER* heard of this before. Isn't the point of the IUIs so that getting the boys where they need to go isn't a problem? I don't get it. It was definitely a WTF moment for me tonight.
2. What in God's name is going on with my body? The spotting is picking up tonight. Even having a few cramps. It's definitely still not my period, but I don't know what the deal is. Ovusoft thinks I ovulated 2 weeks ago Tuesday based on CM. But temps sort of lend themselves to 2 weeks ago Thursday. It doesn't particularly matter this cycle, but considering I'm either 10 or 12 dpo, WHY am I bleeding? I normally have a 13 day LP, so really, the earliest I expected my period was maybe late Monday. I don't know what to think now. So again- WTF??
3. Does anyone know why I can't just get 7 days worth of posts to show up on the front page of my blog. I've got to my settings, into Formatting and set it to 7 days. I've even tried 3 posts. No matter what, my only two choices seem to be 1 post, or 1 month. And I find it interesting that if I do anything other than 1 post- I get a month's worth since "month" isn't even a choice. WTF?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
edit: After I submitted this blog I went back and tried 3 posts again and that actually worked. Since I usually post 2 or 3 times a week, that's close enough to a week's worth for now. I still find it frustrating that 7 days must actually be 1 month in the programming.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
That's all for me.
Thanks for the encouraging words & prayers from my last post. They must be working because I really do feel a bit better today. I even entertained myself tonight by browsing through crib bedding. And I didn't have the urge to cry once. (Yes, I like to live dangerously.)
--Trish
1. For those of you who are watching "Tell Me You Love Me"- and even for those who aren't. Have you ever heard of a doctor telling you to get on all fours after an IUI.
If you didn't watch- there is a scene where they're having an IUI (BTW- YAY for IUI on TV!) and they're asking how it went. The doctor tells them it went well. She mentions that the character has a tilted uterus & might want to get on all fours for a few minutes now that the insemination is done.
Now, I have a tilted uterus & have had some IUIs. I've *NEVER* heard of this before. Isn't the point of the IUIs so that getting the boys where they need to go isn't a problem? I don't get it. It was definitely a WTF moment for me tonight.
2. What in God's name is going on with my body? The spotting is picking up tonight. Even having a few cramps. It's definitely still not my period, but I don't know what the deal is. Ovusoft thinks I ovulated 2 weeks ago Tuesday based on CM. But temps sort of lend themselves to 2 weeks ago Thursday. It doesn't particularly matter this cycle, but considering I'm either 10 or 12 dpo, WHY am I bleeding? I normally have a 13 day LP, so really, the earliest I expected my period was maybe late Monday. I don't know what to think now. So again- WTF??
3. Does anyone know why I can't just get 7 days worth of posts to show up on the front page of my blog. I've got to my settings, into Formatting and set it to 7 days. I've even tried 3 posts. No matter what, my only two choices seem to be 1 post, or 1 month. And I find it interesting that if I do anything other than 1 post- I get a month's worth since "month" isn't even a choice. WTF?
edit: After I submitted this blog I went back and tried 3 posts again and that actually worked. Since I usually post 2 or 3 times a week, that's close enough to a week's worth for now. I still find it frustrating that 7 days must actually be 1 month in the programming.
That's all for me.
Thanks for the encouraging words & prayers from my last post. They must be working because I really do feel a bit better today. I even entertained myself tonight by browsing through crib bedding. And I didn't have the urge to cry once. (Yes, I like to live dangerously.)
--Trish
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Anxiety
Anxiety is getting the better of me.
This is the first I'm speaking of it to anyone. I hate to even admit it to myself.
I've had panic attacks since I was a kid. I was medicated for generalized anxiety disorder about 5 years ago, for about 18 months. I haven't had an actual anxiety attack since stopping the medication but this week, I feel like I'm on the edge of having them again.
The thing that seems to get me the most is thinking about being pregnant & losing another baby.
Everyone is so hopeful about the septum surgery working and all I can think is "What if doesn't?" I am having a hard time accepting that the septum explains everything. I keep wondering if the septum was the reason for my losses if we'd have gotten as far as we did in both pregnancies. If there wasn't enough blood supply to our babies, would they ever have gotten a heartbeat? No one knows the answer. I know that.
I've been doing so well with accepting things that are beyond my control. I pray. I listen to "I surrender all" and I get by. But this week, I'm still having that churning, sick feeling in my stomach where I can't hardly function. I'm just filled with fear.
Today I went to the spa to use the gift card that my friends sent. My first treatment was a really great massage. Of course, as I lay there I was thinking of the REASON they sent the gift card (my 2nd loss) and that lead my brain down that whole path. So I was literally laying on the massage table with my stomach churning with fear.
I realized how stupid it was and did some breathing exercises & focused on how I was feeling physically rather than on what I was thinking and got through it. So far- no panic attack.
But it's getting to me. I don't know if this means I'm not ready to TTC again or not. I mean, we're still probably 5 weeks from that anyway. It's not like I have to make the decision now. But I don't know if this is really a sign that I'm not ready yet or if it's just one of those things that is never going to change so I need to just keep moving forward.
I was sitting here just now thinking how I wish I were one of those people that didn't believe a fetus was a life. Before I was pregnant, I felt really unsure of when I thought life began. But after having twice seen our babies' beating hearts on an ultrasound screen, I can tell you that I did feel like those were our children's lives. They started & stopped.
If I felt like it was later, maybe it would hurt less. Maybe the notion of going through it again would scare me less. I don't know. Maybe nothing would help.
The way it stands, though, I'm just filled with fear. I know that logically we've gotten through it twice. We'd do it again if we had to. But then what? What if we can never carry to term? Hell, what if I can't get pregnant again?
The idea of adoption is really, really scary to me. First- there is the money issue. We're fortunate to live in a state where infertility coverage is mandatory. Adoption would be 100% us. (Well, my company does offer a $5,000 adoption credit, but that's a drop in the bucket compared to what it costs.)But it's not even just the money. There is the whole process. I don't know where to begin. And the questions & paperwork and the worry about a birth mother changing her mind. I don't know if I can take it all.
So that leaves the idea of staying childless. Yeah. Stomach churning. I don't know how we'd do that, either. I know we'd be happy with each other forever. We love each other, we enjoy each other's company. But this is what we want - What I've always dreamed of. And to give that up- well, I'm not really ready to face that choice yet.
These are the thoughts that have filled my head & my heart the last week or so. I'm not really sure why it's all hitting me now.
Perhaps it's the idea that we might actually HAVE an answer. Maybe I just am too scared to accept that there might actually BE hope. You know that Hope and I have a tenuous relationship, at best. I don't know.
Once again- all together now- Infertility Sucks.
Trish
Oh. And P.S. Having mid-luteal phase spotting again this cycle. It happened last month, too. I assumed it was related to the D&C. But it's back yesterday & today. And Ovusoft decided it might be implantation spotting. Ha. I think I might have actually said "FUCK YOU" out loud when that message came up. (Unless my chart is all kinds of wrong, there is no chance we conceived this month. Nevermind the whole we-can't-conceive-on-our-own thing. Plus that would NOT be good news since we now know about the septum and would probably just mean another miscarriage.)
This is the first I'm speaking of it to anyone. I hate to even admit it to myself.
I've had panic attacks since I was a kid. I was medicated for generalized anxiety disorder about 5 years ago, for about 18 months. I haven't had an actual anxiety attack since stopping the medication but this week, I feel like I'm on the edge of having them again.
The thing that seems to get me the most is thinking about being pregnant & losing another baby.
Everyone is so hopeful about the septum surgery working and all I can think is "What if doesn't?" I am having a hard time accepting that the septum explains everything. I keep wondering if the septum was the reason for my losses if we'd have gotten as far as we did in both pregnancies. If there wasn't enough blood supply to our babies, would they ever have gotten a heartbeat? No one knows the answer. I know that.
I've been doing so well with accepting things that are beyond my control. I pray. I listen to "I surrender all" and I get by. But this week, I'm still having that churning, sick feeling in my stomach where I can't hardly function. I'm just filled with fear.
Today I went to the spa to use the gift card that my friends sent. My first treatment was a really great massage. Of course, as I lay there I was thinking of the REASON they sent the gift card (my 2nd loss) and that lead my brain down that whole path. So I was literally laying on the massage table with my stomach churning with fear.
I realized how stupid it was and did some breathing exercises & focused on how I was feeling physically rather than on what I was thinking and got through it. So far- no panic attack.
But it's getting to me. I don't know if this means I'm not ready to TTC again or not. I mean, we're still probably 5 weeks from that anyway. It's not like I have to make the decision now. But I don't know if this is really a sign that I'm not ready yet or if it's just one of those things that is never going to change so I need to just keep moving forward.
I was sitting here just now thinking how I wish I were one of those people that didn't believe a fetus was a life. Before I was pregnant, I felt really unsure of when I thought life began. But after having twice seen our babies' beating hearts on an ultrasound screen, I can tell you that I did feel like those were our children's lives. They started & stopped.
If I felt like it was later, maybe it would hurt less. Maybe the notion of going through it again would scare me less. I don't know. Maybe nothing would help.
The way it stands, though, I'm just filled with fear. I know that logically we've gotten through it twice. We'd do it again if we had to. But then what? What if we can never carry to term? Hell, what if I can't get pregnant again?
The idea of adoption is really, really scary to me. First- there is the money issue. We're fortunate to live in a state where infertility coverage is mandatory. Adoption would be 100% us. (Well, my company does offer a $5,000 adoption credit, but that's a drop in the bucket compared to what it costs.)But it's not even just the money. There is the whole process. I don't know where to begin. And the questions & paperwork and the worry about a birth mother changing her mind. I don't know if I can take it all.
So that leaves the idea of staying childless. Yeah. Stomach churning. I don't know how we'd do that, either. I know we'd be happy with each other forever. We love each other, we enjoy each other's company. But this is what we want - What I've always dreamed of. And to give that up- well, I'm not really ready to face that choice yet.
These are the thoughts that have filled my head & my heart the last week or so. I'm not really sure why it's all hitting me now.
Perhaps it's the idea that we might actually HAVE an answer. Maybe I just am too scared to accept that there might actually BE hope. You know that Hope and I have a tenuous relationship, at best. I don't know.
Once again- all together now- Infertility Sucks.
Trish
Oh. And P.S. Having mid-luteal phase spotting again this cycle. It happened last month, too. I assumed it was related to the D&C. But it's back yesterday & today. And Ovusoft decided it might be implantation spotting. Ha. I think I might have actually said "FUCK YOU" out loud when that message came up. (Unless my chart is all kinds of wrong, there is no chance we conceived this month. Nevermind the whole we-can't-conceive-on-our-own thing. Plus that would NOT be good news since we now know about the septum and would probably just mean another miscarriage.)
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Happy Birthday to me
Today (well, Monday was, it's technically Tuesday morning now) is my birthday. Thirty-one.
It was a nice day. I took the day off work & slept in. Saw a movie, (The Kingdom- VERY good) met the husband for dinner. He sent me some purple roses. They smell sooo good.
Saturday we had a small party. Well, party is overstating it. We went to a Japanese Steakhouse & then came back to my place for cake.
I had a really great time. I'm clearly old because we did no drinking and just sat around and talked til after 1 am and I had THE BEST time.
I did have an odd moment during dinner. Two of the sets of friends that were with us have experienced infertility or miscarriage. The only person who was with us who has children was MY dad. That's out of the 10 of us.
Now, the infertile friend and I became friends based on our IF (though our friendship is so much more than that now.) So that makes sense. The other had a miscarriage a few months ago (between my first & second) but we were friends before that. The others just aren't at the point in their life to be trying.
And you know what? The night was so nice. No one said anything stupid to me. We were able to laugh & joke & be ourselves w/no pressure. What a fabulous evening.
That being said, it occurred to me that I don't talk to my friends who have children very much these days. Two of my closest friends, whom I have been friends with for at least a decade have children. Neither of them even know about my 2nd pregnancy. I feel so completely withdrawn from them.
Both of them conceived almost immediately after trying for all of their children. No miscarriages, nothing. One of them has in-laws who tried for a baby for about 3 years before conceiving. Infertility isn't foreign to her. But I just find so little to say.
The biggest thing in their lives are their kids. Completely logically, they'll talk about them.
The biggest thing in my life is my lack of kids. So of course, I want to talk about it. But they just don't get it at all. Cervical mucous? Pee sticks? Negative pregnancy tests? Dildo cams? Yeah.. I'm sure I'm a treasure to be around.
They are willing to listen. I'm just not willing to talk. I feel resentful of people who "don't get it." It isn't that they're not sympathetic or good friends to me. I just.. I've isolated myself.
At first it was self-preservation. Now it's just habit. And I'm not quite sure what to do about it.
Anyway.. This is mostly just late night ramblings as usual. Just something that was rolling around in my brain.
Overall, the birthday was good. I'm a *little* bummed about being a year closer to that magic 35, but not so bad.
My birthday wish is no secret. For 32 to see me as a mother..
-- Trish
It was a nice day. I took the day off work & slept in. Saw a movie, (The Kingdom- VERY good) met the husband for dinner. He sent me some purple roses. They smell sooo good.
Saturday we had a small party. Well, party is overstating it. We went to a Japanese Steakhouse & then came back to my place for cake.
I had a really great time. I'm clearly old because we did no drinking and just sat around and talked til after 1 am and I had THE BEST time.
I did have an odd moment during dinner. Two of the sets of friends that were with us have experienced infertility or miscarriage. The only person who was with us who has children was MY dad. That's out of the 10 of us.
Now, the infertile friend and I became friends based on our IF (though our friendship is so much more than that now.) So that makes sense. The other had a miscarriage a few months ago (between my first & second) but we were friends before that. The others just aren't at the point in their life to be trying.
And you know what? The night was so nice. No one said anything stupid to me. We were able to laugh & joke & be ourselves w/no pressure. What a fabulous evening.
That being said, it occurred to me that I don't talk to my friends who have children very much these days. Two of my closest friends, whom I have been friends with for at least a decade have children. Neither of them even know about my 2nd pregnancy. I feel so completely withdrawn from them.
Both of them conceived almost immediately after trying for all of their children. No miscarriages, nothing. One of them has in-laws who tried for a baby for about 3 years before conceiving. Infertility isn't foreign to her. But I just find so little to say.
The biggest thing in their lives are their kids. Completely logically, they'll talk about them.
The biggest thing in my life is my lack of kids. So of course, I want to talk about it. But they just don't get it at all. Cervical mucous? Pee sticks? Negative pregnancy tests? Dildo cams? Yeah.. I'm sure I'm a treasure to be around.
They are willing to listen. I'm just not willing to talk. I feel resentful of people who "don't get it." It isn't that they're not sympathetic or good friends to me. I just.. I've isolated myself.
At first it was self-preservation. Now it's just habit. And I'm not quite sure what to do about it.
Anyway.. This is mostly just late night ramblings as usual. Just something that was rolling around in my brain.
Overall, the birthday was good. I'm a *little* bummed about being a year closer to that magic 35, but not so bad.
My birthday wish is no secret. For 32 to see me as a mother..
-- Trish
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