A few days ago I read an article that was shared via Facebook. Infertility: 16 Things You Should Never Say To A Woman Who Is Childless But Not By Choice. I thought it was pretty true to life. There are so many out there that can say hurtful things simply because they just didn't think it through. Or they haven't really known someone who is dealing with this particular problem and so don't understand the deep hurt that comes with the territory. I could go on, but that's not the point today.
A friend posted on this asking what she actually could say to someone dealing with infertility. To tell you the truth, I hadn't really thought of that before. What can someone actually say that would be good. That wouldn't be a reminder of the pain, the loss, the trauma.
Infertility is shaky ground. There are different levels of infertility and different phases in dealing with it. There was a time in my life where I couldn't deal with anything baby related. It just hurt too much. As time has progressed and David and I have dealt with this for years now, we've grown. This last move we found ourselves giving people a quick rundown of why we didn't have children yet in a very public place and with no reservations. We found that it was just easier to put it out on the table and get all the questions taken care of right at the beginning. We saved ourselves the questioning glances and were able to put other at ease with where we were in our lives. It also gave us a huge cheering squad while we went through the IUI and IVF processes. But until we hit that point... well... it was just hard.
So. A few things to keep in mind about infertility. It hurts. Hormones are involved (and we all know how fun and completely unreliable that can be). Some days are better than others. Some are worse, much much worse. But there are things that you can say to someone dealing with infertility and be completely safe! I hope.
1. You look great today.
2. Have you lost weight?
3. How's work going for you?
4. How was your week?
5. Got any fun plans for the Summer (spring, fall, winter, weekend, etc.)
6. You two sure do look happy together.
7. Let's do lunch.
8. I love your outfit.
9. Let's get together for dinner and games.
10. What do you think about (insert topic from politics to sports, just not fertility)?
etc. etc. etc.
Notice a trend?
Please remember that regardless of whatever child-bearing state someone is in, they are still a person. A person with hopes, dreams, pet peeves, opinions, humor, and individuality. Our entire being is not defined by our ability to have or not have children. We are all much more than that. And if your infertile friend is up to talking about it, then they will. When they are ready. Some will be ready in .5 seconds, others longer, and still others never will be. It's up to them.
Me? I'll talk about it anytime. It's how I've learned to deal with it, by sharing it.
I know, easy to say as I sit here typing away listening to my son coo and suck on his hands. He is our miracle. Our thank the good Lord above for modern medicine and inspired physicians miracle! He may be our only one. Not by choice. It's just how it might be. Which means we are still dealing with it. Dealing with the fact that we can't seem to produce a child on our own. Dealing with the unknown, the hurt, the loss, the pain.
However, I have lost weight, my week is full, I'd love to do lunch, and we are happy thank you very much for noticing.
Have a lovely day!
Showing posts with label fertility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fertility. Show all posts
Monday, April 30, 2012
Monday, April 23, 2012
You'll know it's time to turn the page when...
...you hear the chimes.
Did you ever have those books that went along with the records when you were little? You know, the Disney books that told the story and you could play the record and follow along in the book? And the way you knew to turn the page was by hearing Tinkerbell's bell, or the chimes, or the dog barking.
I've been thinking a lot about our story lately. The story of David and I and now Ben. They way it took so long to hear those chimes. So long to get to turn to the next page. To move on. To progress.
Last Sunday (April 15th) we had Benjamin blessed. It made me cry just a little. I think I would have cried a lot more but I still had to lead the singing in church. It was a special day. A day that not too long ago I didn't think would come. Those of you who have been with me for awhile know the struggle that we have had to get this little guy. To start our family and turn the page.
It was nice to have a say in a few things that day. Like the music. As Music Chairman for the ward I got to pick out the hymns. For the rest hymn I did a Primary song, "My Heavenly Father Loves Me". I love this song. It's simple message. The imagery that "whenever I hear the song of a bird or look at the blue blue sky" brings. I can almost feel the "velvet rose" and the "rain on my face". "I'm glad that I live in this beautiful world, Heavenly Father created for me." I love it because it reminds me of my Dad.
He probably doesn't remember but years and years ago, during a family home evening in the Hubbard household, my dad proclaimed "My Heavenly Father Loves Me" as his favorite song. I'm pretty sure that's when I started liking it. It speaks of my father and my Father. It brings fond memories and warm feelings. And now I sing it to Ben when he's fussy. When I'm putting him to bed. When I think I need to hear it as well.
David did the blessing. He blessed Ben with health and the ability and knowledge to take care of his body. He blessed him with a kind heart and the ability to have empathy and charity to all around him. He was blessed with courage, to stand up for the gospel among his peers and to be honest when it is not convenient. He blessed him with a sensitivity to the Spirit, a strong testimony, and the ability to know of God's love for him. He was blessed to know the consequences of his actions and to learn from them. To give service and follow the gospel.
There were more, but those are the ones that stood out to me. I have spent many an afternoon wondering what kind of man my little boy will be. I find myself excited to find out. Curious about how he'll look. The adorable little face that I look at now... what will teenagehood bring! Will he try growing a beard? Will I still be able to recognize "my little boy" in a growing man? Mostly I want to know what he'll have to say. What his thoughts will be on politics, on scouts, on girls. What kind of music will he listen to? Will I like it or will it drive me nuts? Will he be well-grounded or will his head perpetually be in the clouds? Class clown or class protector? Perhaps I should be more worried, but I can't bring myself to that just yet. I'm too excited. (However, I may need someone to remind me about this in say 13 years.)
It was a beautiful day. Spent with wonderful family and wonderful friends. And me feeling more and more blessed.
But sometimes our joys can inadvertently bring sadness to others. I remember all too well what it was like to sit in the audience while someone else was having their baby blessed. I was never not happy for them, it was just an overwhelmingly painful reminder of what we didn't have. What we weren't sure if we could ever have, and what we wanted so desperately. A reminder that my body wasn't working. That for some reason, we couldn't turn to the next page.
I have dear friends who are still struggling with infertility. Who always will be. It doesn't go away. Even if you have a baby through modern medicine or adoption... it doesn't go away. We don't know if we'll be able to have another child. We want one. But we just don't know. What we do know, what I know, is that the Lord has had his hand in our lives the entire time. He has placed people and jobs and homes in our path. He has blessed us in so many more ways than we ever imagined.
He knows.
He knows our struggles and he knows who we need to become. He will send the silver linings to our dark clouds to help us make it through. And when we start to recognize his hand, we can see it everywhere.
Thank you all for your well wishes and prayers on our behalf. For your friendship. For celebrating this time with us whether in person or in spirit. I'm glad that I live in this beautiful world Heavenly Father created for me.
Did you ever have those books that went along with the records when you were little? You know, the Disney books that told the story and you could play the record and follow along in the book? And the way you knew to turn the page was by hearing Tinkerbell's bell, or the chimes, or the dog barking.
I've been thinking a lot about our story lately. The story of David and I and now Ben. They way it took so long to hear those chimes. So long to get to turn to the next page. To move on. To progress.
Last Sunday (April 15th) we had Benjamin blessed. It made me cry just a little. I think I would have cried a lot more but I still had to lead the singing in church. It was a special day. A day that not too long ago I didn't think would come. Those of you who have been with me for awhile know the struggle that we have had to get this little guy. To start our family and turn the page.
It was nice to have a say in a few things that day. Like the music. As Music Chairman for the ward I got to pick out the hymns. For the rest hymn I did a Primary song, "My Heavenly Father Loves Me". I love this song. It's simple message. The imagery that "whenever I hear the song of a bird or look at the blue blue sky" brings. I can almost feel the "velvet rose" and the "rain on my face". "I'm glad that I live in this beautiful world, Heavenly Father created for me." I love it because it reminds me of my Dad.
He probably doesn't remember but years and years ago, during a family home evening in the Hubbard household, my dad proclaimed "My Heavenly Father Loves Me" as his favorite song. I'm pretty sure that's when I started liking it. It speaks of my father and my Father. It brings fond memories and warm feelings. And now I sing it to Ben when he's fussy. When I'm putting him to bed. When I think I need to hear it as well.
David did the blessing. He blessed Ben with health and the ability and knowledge to take care of his body. He blessed him with a kind heart and the ability to have empathy and charity to all around him. He was blessed with courage, to stand up for the gospel among his peers and to be honest when it is not convenient. He blessed him with a sensitivity to the Spirit, a strong testimony, and the ability to know of God's love for him. He was blessed to know the consequences of his actions and to learn from them. To give service and follow the gospel.
There were more, but those are the ones that stood out to me. I have spent many an afternoon wondering what kind of man my little boy will be. I find myself excited to find out. Curious about how he'll look. The adorable little face that I look at now... what will teenagehood bring! Will he try growing a beard? Will I still be able to recognize "my little boy" in a growing man? Mostly I want to know what he'll have to say. What his thoughts will be on politics, on scouts, on girls. What kind of music will he listen to? Will I like it or will it drive me nuts? Will he be well-grounded or will his head perpetually be in the clouds? Class clown or class protector? Perhaps I should be more worried, but I can't bring myself to that just yet. I'm too excited. (However, I may need someone to remind me about this in say 13 years.)
It was a beautiful day. Spent with wonderful family and wonderful friends. And me feeling more and more blessed.
But sometimes our joys can inadvertently bring sadness to others. I remember all too well what it was like to sit in the audience while someone else was having their baby blessed. I was never not happy for them, it was just an overwhelmingly painful reminder of what we didn't have. What we weren't sure if we could ever have, and what we wanted so desperately. A reminder that my body wasn't working. That for some reason, we couldn't turn to the next page.
I have dear friends who are still struggling with infertility. Who always will be. It doesn't go away. Even if you have a baby through modern medicine or adoption... it doesn't go away. We don't know if we'll be able to have another child. We want one. But we just don't know. What we do know, what I know, is that the Lord has had his hand in our lives the entire time. He has placed people and jobs and homes in our path. He has blessed us in so many more ways than we ever imagined.
He knows.
He knows our struggles and he knows who we need to become. He will send the silver linings to our dark clouds to help us make it through. And when we start to recognize his hand, we can see it everywhere.
Thank you all for your well wishes and prayers on our behalf. For your friendship. For celebrating this time with us whether in person or in spirit. I'm glad that I live in this beautiful world Heavenly Father created for me.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Meet Oscar and Other News
Oscar Wilde? Oscar de la Hoya? Oscar the Grouch? So many options. Might even change. I have been calling him Snickelfritz. Who knows, maybe it will stick.
Fun facts/discoveries:
1. He sometimes meows while he's drinking so it sounds all underwater-like and that just makes both David and I laugh.
2. Despite his sometimes incessant meowing/bawling, he might just be alright. (he's no good at our stairs yet, or at least hasn't been brave enough so I can "trap" him on another level when it's too much. He stops after awhile so it works out.)
3. So far he only uses the litter box! Yeah!
4. David's job is to change the litter box! Yeah!
5. He's not cuddly, he's frisky. And that's fine with me too. He's just a little guy so it makes sense.
6. This may very well be the last full post on Oscar because I like to think I have more of a life than that, and right now I really do feel a little pathetic. So if you're thinking it, so am I. Sigh.
In other news:
David and I did the embryo transfer on Sunday! Woo-hoo! So we're moving forward like rock stars and hoping that all the needles, mood swings, trips to SLC, and partial loss of sanity work out for us. Meanwhile we have lots of things to look forward to this Summer. Like:
Air conditioning!!
New bathtub and toilet in main bathroom.
Completed window sills!
Def Leppard concert with friends! Double woo-hoo there.
A stay at the cabin at Mt Kolob (Hurricane way)
Family Reunions (yes we actually look forward to some of them.)
Garden fresh produce from OUR garden!
Hiking in the outdoors
Plays at the Old Lyric Theatre
Bear Lake Shakes
Long Summer nights
Lunch/breakfast on the deck
Outdoor BBQ
Thank you all for tuning in today, and most of all thank you for your support. We have felt your prayers and well wishes for us and no matter what happens, it will be what is supposed to happen. Who knows, maybe twins! (oooh, eeeee, aaaaah... ugh? hmm.)
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Too Much Information?
Sometimes I wonder if I divulge to much information on here. You know, of the sort that makes people uncomfortable. When I say things like "fertility" and "eggs" and "injections" and stuff. I have actually been thinking about this for awhile. I know there are some people close to me that would feel extremely uncomfortable reading about such things and get all awkward and stuff. Sometimes I find myself in a situation when I get told something that is a little out there and I find myself having trouble finding a place to rest my eyes. (that hasn't happened in absolute ages by the way.)
And then I thought to myself "Why am I so comfortable with this?" because let's face it, I didn't used to be comfortable talking about infertility. That was something private. It was going to be a short struggle until David and I got things figured out. And then things just stretched out. And there were "procedures" and "operations" and drugs and general craziness. The months turned in to a year, the year turned into 5 and now I'm an open book. And I'm glad for it (the open book thing, not the 5 years).
I am comfortable talking about it because right now it is my life. Not all of it of course. I am perfectly capable of having conversations that have nothing to do with children. In fact sometimes I want to have a discussion that has absolutely nothing to do with fertility. Not because it's too hard, but because I'm plum warn out on that topic of conversation! There's a lot more to life right now than our "trial". And in just a few days, it should be less consuming. Because in a few days this IVF process will come to it's conclusion.
Thursday I go in for egg retrieval, Sunday or Tuesday we go in for the transfer depending on how "petri dish love" goes. And then we wait. Just like normal people do. We wait for evidence of success or failure. There's a test, a blood draw, and then we know whether we get our own biological kids or if our family really will be adopted. I am not in any way shape or form opposed to adoption, but we had to see this route through. Knowing that there are options out there that hadn't been explored... well, it would have continued to eat me up. I would have always wondered. And now we'll know.
As a side note but really related. I once wrote a post about socks. Someone anonymously commented with "too much info". They had no idea did they!
Enjoy the sunshine my friends. It's a glorious reprieve and I'm certain the rain will come again. Just not today.
And then I thought to myself "Why am I so comfortable with this?" because let's face it, I didn't used to be comfortable talking about infertility. That was something private. It was going to be a short struggle until David and I got things figured out. And then things just stretched out. And there were "procedures" and "operations" and drugs and general craziness. The months turned in to a year, the year turned into 5 and now I'm an open book. And I'm glad for it (the open book thing, not the 5 years).
I am comfortable talking about it because right now it is my life. Not all of it of course. I am perfectly capable of having conversations that have nothing to do with children. In fact sometimes I want to have a discussion that has absolutely nothing to do with fertility. Not because it's too hard, but because I'm plum warn out on that topic of conversation! There's a lot more to life right now than our "trial". And in just a few days, it should be less consuming. Because in a few days this IVF process will come to it's conclusion.
Thursday I go in for egg retrieval, Sunday or Tuesday we go in for the transfer depending on how "petri dish love" goes. And then we wait. Just like normal people do. We wait for evidence of success or failure. There's a test, a blood draw, and then we know whether we get our own biological kids or if our family really will be adopted. I am not in any way shape or form opposed to adoption, but we had to see this route through. Knowing that there are options out there that hadn't been explored... well, it would have continued to eat me up. I would have always wondered. And now we'll know.
As a side note but really related. I once wrote a post about socks. Someone anonymously commented with "too much info". They had no idea did they!
Enjoy the sunshine my friends. It's a glorious reprieve and I'm certain the rain will come again. Just not today.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Progression... kind of
This week:
1. I have been to Salt Lake and back twice. Each time for a doctor's appointment. Each time to know we are right on track except for...
2. Remember "Bob" and his nasty little brother "George". Turns out George is still there, which we knew. Which doesn't surprise me. A. Bit. But he has hindered my right side, so it's up to my left ovary to make good on deal. To respond with wit and charm and productivity to my nightly drug cocktail. So that we can...
3. Spend Sunday and Monday and probably Tuesday and Wednesday and next Saturday in Salt Lake again. Yep, moving right along keeps us moving right along! Can someone please invent a safe auto-pilot for our car that can be installed tomorrow? Thanks.
4. Last Saturday we pulled a lot of trees out of the yard. And by "we" I mean David did all the work and I drove the truck. 4 loads to the green waste pile at the Logan Landfill. 4 large loads. So much more to go. Feels good to be moving forward though so we can...
5. Put in a raised garden in our front yard. We don't play in our front yard. Seems a shame to waste good sun on grass that we hate to mow. So a raised garden it will be. If it ever stops raining that is.
I know there's more my friends. So much more. Laughing, sharing, crying. But right now I'm tired. So very tired. My doctor says that it's one of the side effects of Lupron but it doesn't usually effect too many people. We've always known I'm not one of the "many" though. And that's okay.
Have a lovely weekend my friends.
1. I have been to Salt Lake and back twice. Each time for a doctor's appointment. Each time to know we are right on track except for...
2. Remember "Bob" and his nasty little brother "George". Turns out George is still there, which we knew. Which doesn't surprise me. A. Bit. But he has hindered my right side, so it's up to my left ovary to make good on deal. To respond with wit and charm and productivity to my nightly drug cocktail. So that we can...
3. Spend Sunday and Monday and probably Tuesday and Wednesday and next Saturday in Salt Lake again. Yep, moving right along keeps us moving right along! Can someone please invent a safe auto-pilot for our car that can be installed tomorrow? Thanks.
4. Last Saturday we pulled a lot of trees out of the yard. And by "we" I mean David did all the work and I drove the truck. 4 loads to the green waste pile at the Logan Landfill. 4 large loads. So much more to go. Feels good to be moving forward though so we can...
5. Put in a raised garden in our front yard. We don't play in our front yard. Seems a shame to waste good sun on grass that we hate to mow. So a raised garden it will be. If it ever stops raining that is.
I know there's more my friends. So much more. Laughing, sharing, crying. But right now I'm tired. So very tired. My doctor says that it's one of the side effects of Lupron but it doesn't usually effect too many people. We've always known I'm not one of the "many" though. And that's okay.
Have a lovely weekend my friends.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Guess what came in the mail...
It's kind of a big box huh. Does not bode well.
I call these the "Big Damn Needles". It's alright if it's in quotes right? That's all I have to say about that.
Something to look forward too....
Starting some of this on Friday. Perhaps I'll just hide under the covers.
Sometimes ignorance really is bliss.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Hi Honey, It's 7 o'clock, am I safe? or My Life on Drugs
Friday April 29th:
Am able to proceed with Lupron injections. Find myself very nervous. Close to breaking out in a cold sweat but manage to stick myself with the needle. Is not that bad. In fact barely felt it. Relieved and a little shaky I go to bed wondering how I'll be in the morning.
Saturday April 30th:
Find myself semi nauseous in the morning. More sensitive to stupid things. Strange desire to arm-wrestle my husband into submission for the offense of waking up in the morning. Have family coming to spend the day. Sense a pattern developing. Nightly injection hurt this time. And itched.
Sunday May 1st:
Definite pattern developing. Am able to see a trend. No time to write, have to arm-wrestle husband and find something with chocolate in it. 3rd dose didn't hurt. Is this some kind of joke?
Monday May 2nd:
Feel it necessary to outline pattern for those who may follow in my footsteps or have an urge to visit un-announced.
6-7 am: wake up and feel a bit nauseous but still okay
7:30 am: doing okay until husband talks to me then have sudden urge to rip head off
7:31 am: suppress urge, put up a hand, and ask if that question/comment is really necessary
7:32 am: husband backs away slowly with soothing voice and takes question/comment back
8:00 am: husband attempts to go to work, I ignore him till he does
8:30 am: overwhelmed by hunger pangs and eat anything I can find for breakfast (or second breakfast as the case may be)
8:45 am: day proceeds normally as long as there are no unforeseen interruptions
12:00-3:00 pm: have uncontrollable urge to cry at everything including commercials on the radio, songs that have anything to do with sentimentality or violence or that have words or instruments in them
4:00 pm: doing pretty good. Waterworks have stopped and smile is on the face
7:00 pm: nausea returns and irritation at everything comes in full force. Husband walks on egg shells, sometimes ignoring me for his own safety. But then again ignoring me causes further irritation and irrational thinking and might not be that safe either
7:30 pm: large dose of chocolate is consumed
7:32 pm: feeling better but watch your step
9:00 pm: life is good and rational conversation is possible
9:30 pm: another dose of chocolate for own safety
10:00 pm: take another shot and go to bed
Okay, seriously though. It's kind of interesting how it follows a pattern, and I'm not really crazy all the time. But it is a little freaky how out-of-control and irritated that I feel sometimes. I know it's the drugs that are causing it but just see if I can do anything about it! Man may as well put forth his arm to stop the mighty Mississippi from flowing! It really does follow a schedule though. So much that when 7 pm approaches I start getting out the chocolate.
I don't think this affects everyone the same way either. I happen to be uber-sensitive to drugs. Half the dose of Dayquil does me in. So birth control and injections... yeah. Can't wait till they add more! I'm gonna have to buy chocolate in bulk!
ps. I just realized that I didn't officially say that we're okay to go forward with all of this! David, who gets uber-brownie points in heaven, did many a phone call between doctors office and insurance and was finally able to get things straightened out. We found out late Friday afternoon that we could go forward. So yeah... nothing like a late update!
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Becoming
Today I struggle.
I struggle to know what feelings are mine, which are the drugs messing with my hormones, my head, and my heart. Which feelings are those that I really can handle and which are things that are just beyond me. When is it time to call it a day and sink into a haze of nothingness?
Yesterday I got a phone call from the pharmacy that our IVF cycle drugs are being ordered through. My first set of injections are scheduled to start this Friday. I can't say that I'm wholeheartedly looking forward to the actual injections, but I can say that I really am ready to get things going. To move forward once again. Not just to put it to rest and say "now we've done all we can do to have a child of our own". I really do have hope this time. Solid, real, almost tangible hope.
The phone call was a courtesy call to make sure that information was correct and to get payment information taken care of. We are one of the incredibly lucky and blessed people who actually have insurance that will cover IVF procedures with the accompanying medication. For those of you who know, that is a major thing to have happen. I don't know of any other insurance that actually covers it. So I promptly informed the woman on the line that our insurance should cover the $125 for the medicines. She said that they didn't. I said that they should and she said they don't and I'm welcome to find another pharmacy to order the medication through and have it there by Friday.
I ended up paying for it because at this point it wasn't worth the hassle. This particular medication was not the expensive stuff and we would have time to get it all sorted out before the expensive stuff needs to be ordered.
Long story short, it turns out that our insurance is a bit of a mess. Of the sort that you can call the same number three different times and get three different answers as to what needs to be done in order to get approved for the insurance to actually pay for IVF. All things that we thought we had done. All things that we had followed up on. All things that no one seems to have record of. That means time. It also means delays. It means that unless things get straightened out by tomorrow we probably won't be going forward with IVF this month. It means another month, maybe two before we really get to start.
Perhaps it's a little extreme, but I'm tired of monthly delays. I've spent the last 3-4 years living by the month. Planning by the month. Being disappointed by the month. We haven't obsessed about it, and truthfully we've gotten used to letting things go. It slips into the background quite nicely, still noticeable but not quite as painful as it used to be.
It's just a delay. It's not that bad. It just seems like there's always another delay.
So here I am. Today. Wondering who I am. Wondering who I am to become. Wondering what I am to learn from all of this. Where do I fit. What is the purpose of all this delay? What am I missing? Is this one of the bumps along the path to help wear down a particularly rough spot? These are all things that I have wondered about before and I dare say I will wonder about it again before this is all said and done.
I struggle to know what feelings are mine, which are the drugs messing with my hormones, my head, and my heart. Which feelings are those that I really can handle and which are things that are just beyond me. When is it time to call it a day and sink into a haze of nothingness?
Yesterday I got a phone call from the pharmacy that our IVF cycle drugs are being ordered through. My first set of injections are scheduled to start this Friday. I can't say that I'm wholeheartedly looking forward to the actual injections, but I can say that I really am ready to get things going. To move forward once again. Not just to put it to rest and say "now we've done all we can do to have a child of our own". I really do have hope this time. Solid, real, almost tangible hope.
The phone call was a courtesy call to make sure that information was correct and to get payment information taken care of. We are one of the incredibly lucky and blessed people who actually have insurance that will cover IVF procedures with the accompanying medication. For those of you who know, that is a major thing to have happen. I don't know of any other insurance that actually covers it. So I promptly informed the woman on the line that our insurance should cover the $125 for the medicines. She said that they didn't. I said that they should and she said they don't and I'm welcome to find another pharmacy to order the medication through and have it there by Friday.
I ended up paying for it because at this point it wasn't worth the hassle. This particular medication was not the expensive stuff and we would have time to get it all sorted out before the expensive stuff needs to be ordered.
Long story short, it turns out that our insurance is a bit of a mess. Of the sort that you can call the same number three different times and get three different answers as to what needs to be done in order to get approved for the insurance to actually pay for IVF. All things that we thought we had done. All things that we had followed up on. All things that no one seems to have record of. That means time. It also means delays. It means that unless things get straightened out by tomorrow we probably won't be going forward with IVF this month. It means another month, maybe two before we really get to start.
Perhaps it's a little extreme, but I'm tired of monthly delays. I've spent the last 3-4 years living by the month. Planning by the month. Being disappointed by the month. We haven't obsessed about it, and truthfully we've gotten used to letting things go. It slips into the background quite nicely, still noticeable but not quite as painful as it used to be.
It's just a delay. It's not that bad. It just seems like there's always another delay.
So here I am. Today. Wondering who I am. Wondering who I am to become. Wondering what I am to learn from all of this. Where do I fit. What is the purpose of all this delay? What am I missing? Is this one of the bumps along the path to help wear down a particularly rough spot? These are all things that I have wondered about before and I dare say I will wonder about it again before this is all said and done.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
An Update of Sorts
There are a few significant factors that have come into play today that I feel are worthy of mention.
1. Today is the official 1 month mark for having shaken off the shackles of the regular desk job and joined the realms of part-time at home workers. I do spend enough time in the office on Wednesdays though to still keep in touch with things while enjoying the freedom of doing laundry on a whim.
2. We are officially in the first stages of IVF. That being said we are on birth control. What a crazy life huh! Fertility that starts out on birth control. As a humorous side note, the nurse asked me if I had a preference on which birth control to use. I said "what is this birth control you speak of." She laughed and said "yeah, we get that a lot." Injections of drugs scheduled to start April 29th and full cycle completed before Memorial Day. Phew!
3. While enjoying the luxuries such as free lunch at the office yesterday, a co-worker came in and said "now that you are at home... insert ominous pause... I have a kitten that has your name on it!" So for all of you cat owners out there, give me the scoop. I haven't officially said yes to this, but am considering it. Talk to me about litter boxes and cat hair. Pros and cons. How do you deal? As a child I used to sneak kittens into my room all the time, as the person who has to clean the house... 'nother story. As a person in the house alone most of the day (who doesn't really have a problem with that but...) Talk to me.
That's it for now, though on a side note I did the aerobics class again today and I'm now having trouble going up or down the stairs! Should be a fun weekend recovering from this one!
Have a fabulous Thursday!
1. Today is the official 1 month mark for having shaken off the shackles of the regular desk job and joined the realms of part-time at home workers. I do spend enough time in the office on Wednesdays though to still keep in touch with things while enjoying the freedom of doing laundry on a whim.
2. We are officially in the first stages of IVF. That being said we are on birth control. What a crazy life huh! Fertility that starts out on birth control. As a humorous side note, the nurse asked me if I had a preference on which birth control to use. I said "what is this birth control you speak of." She laughed and said "yeah, we get that a lot." Injections of drugs scheduled to start April 29th and full cycle completed before Memorial Day. Phew!
3. While enjoying the luxuries such as free lunch at the office yesterday, a co-worker came in and said "now that you are at home... insert ominous pause... I have a kitten that has your name on it!" So for all of you cat owners out there, give me the scoop. I haven't officially said yes to this, but am considering it. Talk to me about litter boxes and cat hair. Pros and cons. How do you deal? As a child I used to sneak kittens into my room all the time, as the person who has to clean the house... 'nother story. As a person in the house alone most of the day (who doesn't really have a problem with that but...) Talk to me.
That's it for now, though on a side note I did the aerobics class again today and I'm now having trouble going up or down the stairs! Should be a fun weekend recovering from this one!
Have a fabulous Thursday!
Friday, March 18, 2011
The Now
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| Image clearly borrowed from shutterstock. |
I can't enjoy life that way.
I have been woefully absent from the blogosphere of late. I have had a few things to figure out. Some discoveries to make.
1. I need a schedule. No matter how much I would like to throw caution to the wind and live for the here and now, I need a plan for the day, even for the week sometimes. When I have an idea of when things are going to get done, then I can relax and enjoy the present.
2. Making my own lunch has really thrown off my groove. For the last 4.5 years I could go to the Hub, Marketplace, Skyroom, Quadside, or Junction and get whatever it is my taste buds felt like that day. Now I have one more thing to plan and winging it is not working so well.
3. The non-separation of the work computer from the home computer strangely limits my natural desire to blog, or really do anything "personal" on the computer. I still have several topics waiting in the wings, I just haven't felt like actually writing. I am kind of disturbed by this revelation. It goes against my commitment to moderation as well as taking care of that need to express myself.
4. Despite the fact that I work from home now and have "more time on my hands" I have learned that I can't say yes to everything that is asked. I still have to take charge of my life and not be tossed about with every whim or request.
5. Moving forward with our infertility options is scaring me right now. I've never been good with needles and there will be a lot with IVF. A lot that I have to give myself. I'm scared of the effects of the hormones and exceptionally strong fertility drugs and all that things that could go wrong with it. I'm scared of the fact that it might not work either. So I'm taking a bit longer than I thought to "dive in" to it. I want to enjoy my sanity a little while before I lose it completely.
Now, there's a lot in there that needs a "Toughen up there cupcake!" and that's okay. I'm working on it. But for the last 4 years or so these are things that I have not had time in the day to deal with. They have haunted me at night, or in the wee small hours of the morning. Now I have a little more time on my hands and things that have been buried by busyness are now coming to the front lines. And that's okay. Sometimes it really is the little things that do the most damage, and now is the time to deal with them.
So like my dessert yesterday, I plan on enjoying this time. Figuring things out and savoring the moments both good and bad. The good because they give me something to hold on to during the bad. The bad because that's usually when I learn the most about the changes I need to make. Both help me move forward.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Blessed are they that mourn
"Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted."
No one likes to see themselves as ugly. Especially when we are presenting ourselves to the world. We put on our best face. We smile. We tell about the good things. We look for silver linings and cling to them no matter how fleeting. But then life catches up. The silver linings, while still there, are difficult to see for the reality that looms so impossibly large before our eyes, demanding to be dealt with. Looked at, embraced, picked apart. Reality demands, and needs, attention.
I'm pretty good at fooling myself. Preparing for the worst so that when it comes I can take it all in stride. It never really works though. Oh it does for awhile, and most importantly it works in public. When people ask how I'm doing I can readily look them in the eye and say "Just fine, and how are you?"
Now, I want you to know that I am fine. Really and truly, because mourning and crying and dealing are all things that make sure that I'm fine.
Our last round of IUI did not work. This was in no way, shape, or form a surprise. Completely expected. We found out about two weeks ago and it was taken in stride. There is a plan in place to continue moving forward and there didn't seem to be reason to mourn an all too familiar loss. In fact, it almost didn't effect me at all. I felt like I had grown. Like I had finally gotten a hold of these emotions of mine and could "soldier on".
Until today that is. Or really yesterday.
I have so very much enjoyed this week. Things have been moving along quite nicely at work. My husband is wonderful and we've been able to support each other in so many different ways this week. My stress has lessened and life is looking brighter. I've been feeling really good about everything.
And then someone asked a question. About children. About whether or not we've considered going to a doctor since we didn't have kids yet. I about fell over. It made me wonder what kind of conclusions had been drawn about me. It made me want to give a dry sarcastic laugh and set the record straight, end the conversation, and exit as quickly as possible. Instead I said "yes, many times, many doctors, no explanation just more money, and yes we are approved for adoption as well", the quick in a nut shell explanation.
I was asked again, later in the day if I had children and an even briefer explanation was given. I felt pretty blue the rest of the day. Blue enough to settle for left over macaroni and cheese for dinner.
And then there was this morning. I got up to exercise and get those endorphins going because "endorphins make you happy and happy people just don't kill their husbands." (name that movie) I exercised, I sweat, I worked out my frustrations, and then I sat on the couch and cried. Cried for the loss that I didn't feel two weeks ago. Cried at the unexplainedness of it all. Cried because I feel old and I'm worried that if I ever do get children that I won't know what to do. That I'll be out of patience, that my mother instincts have been so buried by the last 15 years that they may not surface. Worried by how dead I feel inside sometimes.
My New Year's Resolution this year is moderation. Well, you can't have the good without the bad. Dark times make you appreciate the sunshine even more. Spring will really come eventually. Those silver linings really are out there. But for a few moments, I need to deal with my reality. Ask the questions, formulate the answers, get a better grip of what I'm dealing with so I can go forward.
I know that mine is not the worst situation. I know it. There are so many wonderful people out there that I am connected with that have their own little private "hell" that has inserted itself into their lives. Things that don't have easy answers and sometimes make for awkward conversation.
Mourning is a necessary part of this life. We can only receive the needed comfort if we truly allow ourselves to mourn, to feel, to accept. That is when God can step in and lighten our path. There is hope, there is always hope. Perhaps it will be easier to see tomorrow. But for today I might just wallow in my misery, swim in it till I get all pruny (name that movie!) and then move on tomorrow, better for having done so.
No one likes to see themselves as ugly. Especially when we are presenting ourselves to the world. We put on our best face. We smile. We tell about the good things. We look for silver linings and cling to them no matter how fleeting. But then life catches up. The silver linings, while still there, are difficult to see for the reality that looms so impossibly large before our eyes, demanding to be dealt with. Looked at, embraced, picked apart. Reality demands, and needs, attention.
I'm pretty good at fooling myself. Preparing for the worst so that when it comes I can take it all in stride. It never really works though. Oh it does for awhile, and most importantly it works in public. When people ask how I'm doing I can readily look them in the eye and say "Just fine, and how are you?"
Now, I want you to know that I am fine. Really and truly, because mourning and crying and dealing are all things that make sure that I'm fine.
Our last round of IUI did not work. This was in no way, shape, or form a surprise. Completely expected. We found out about two weeks ago and it was taken in stride. There is a plan in place to continue moving forward and there didn't seem to be reason to mourn an all too familiar loss. In fact, it almost didn't effect me at all. I felt like I had grown. Like I had finally gotten a hold of these emotions of mine and could "soldier on".
Until today that is. Or really yesterday.
I have so very much enjoyed this week. Things have been moving along quite nicely at work. My husband is wonderful and we've been able to support each other in so many different ways this week. My stress has lessened and life is looking brighter. I've been feeling really good about everything.
And then someone asked a question. About children. About whether or not we've considered going to a doctor since we didn't have kids yet. I about fell over. It made me wonder what kind of conclusions had been drawn about me. It made me want to give a dry sarcastic laugh and set the record straight, end the conversation, and exit as quickly as possible. Instead I said "yes, many times, many doctors, no explanation just more money, and yes we are approved for adoption as well", the quick in a nut shell explanation.
I was asked again, later in the day if I had children and an even briefer explanation was given. I felt pretty blue the rest of the day. Blue enough to settle for left over macaroni and cheese for dinner.
And then there was this morning. I got up to exercise and get those endorphins going because "endorphins make you happy and happy people just don't kill their husbands." (name that movie) I exercised, I sweat, I worked out my frustrations, and then I sat on the couch and cried. Cried for the loss that I didn't feel two weeks ago. Cried at the unexplainedness of it all. Cried because I feel old and I'm worried that if I ever do get children that I won't know what to do. That I'll be out of patience, that my mother instincts have been so buried by the last 15 years that they may not surface. Worried by how dead I feel inside sometimes.
My New Year's Resolution this year is moderation. Well, you can't have the good without the bad. Dark times make you appreciate the sunshine even more. Spring will really come eventually. Those silver linings really are out there. But for a few moments, I need to deal with my reality. Ask the questions, formulate the answers, get a better grip of what I'm dealing with so I can go forward.
I know that mine is not the worst situation. I know it. There are so many wonderful people out there that I am connected with that have their own little private "hell" that has inserted itself into their lives. Things that don't have easy answers and sometimes make for awkward conversation.
Mourning is a necessary part of this life. We can only receive the needed comfort if we truly allow ourselves to mourn, to feel, to accept. That is when God can step in and lighten our path. There is hope, there is always hope. Perhaps it will be easier to see tomorrow. But for today I might just wallow in my misery, swim in it till I get all pruny (name that movie!) and then move on tomorrow, better for having done so.
I feel a little like this today. Spiky with a few blossoms. This was taken at the greenhouse shoot.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
"And remember, this is for posterity so please be honest"
I thought it fitting to start out with a movie quote. Fitting that it should be from the torture chamber scene. Fitting that some mention of torture should be involved.
Okay, it's a bit extreme, let me 'splain. No there is too much. Let me sum up.
On November 9th David and I headed down to Salt Lake for our first round of IUI. It was simpler than I thought, and not quite as invasive as I thought. Still not the most comfortable thing in the world, but we have a wonderful doctor with more than wonderful staff. I've said this before, but it is so good to have a doctor's office where you are the priority. As we left everyone wished us luck. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. Nurses from two stations over chimed in with "let us know how it turns out!" We were well-wished all the way out the door.
Next step was to wait for that monthly visitor to make other arrangements and skip town for awhile. It looked promising. Very promising. In fact, I was 4 days late! 4 days people! It needs to be known that I have never been 4 days late. The most I have every gotten was 1 day late. So 4 was confusing, hopeful, trying, and wonderful at the same time. I took many a pregnancy test with obviously negative results, but no signs of that monthly visitor, not even a hint!
Look, are you just fiddling around with me or what?
I just want you to feel you are doing well.
After the second skipped day, we actually allowed ourselves to enjoy it. The thoughts of a little one being able to join our family were just too exciting. (Not to mention finally being able to try on that stay-at-home mom hat.) We told ourselves not to get too excited, after all there was no definite "yes" yet. But it was the closest we have ever been. We talked about how wouldn't it be crazy if all we needed was 1 round of IUI this whole time. Years I tell you, years we've been trying! 1 Round! Just crazy. We've been fairly certain this whole time that we are headed for IVF and that the rounds of IUI were just pieces on the path. So much hope.
Do you hear that Fezzik? That is the sound of ultimate suffering.
2 days later it came crashing down. Right before Thanksgiving in fact. I had that Wednesday off and instead of using it for good (cleaning the house, packing, baking, general getting readiness so we could join the family that evening) I spent it in the basement in front of the TV watching episode after episode of 'Psych'. Shockingly appropriate huh! I was having a well deserved pity party and the world was better for it. Had I allowed myself to mingle with family I might have done something awkward like break down in tears for no apparent reason. Or perhaps even bitten someone's head off. That's always a bit awkward even if there is a good reason.
When the job went wrong he went back to the beginning. Well, this is where we got the job, so it's the beginning.
There's still hope though, or at least steps to take. I just finished another round of Femara and am waiting for that magic stick peeing moment to get another doctor appointment for the second round of IUI. There is comfort in a plan. Steps to be taken, not too much time to sit around and feel sorry for one's self.
Don't rush me, sonny. You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles.
And in the meantime, while waiting for that little miracle to take place in our lives, at least there's one more guaranteed trip to IKEA before all this is through. I feel another piece of our bedroom set will be joining us soon.
**10 points to the first namer of the movie. Hey, you never know when you are gonna need an extra 10 points! Thanks for reading.**
Okay, it's a bit extreme, let me 'splain. No there is too much. Let me sum up.
On November 9th David and I headed down to Salt Lake for our first round of IUI. It was simpler than I thought, and not quite as invasive as I thought. Still not the most comfortable thing in the world, but we have a wonderful doctor with more than wonderful staff. I've said this before, but it is so good to have a doctor's office where you are the priority. As we left everyone wished us luck. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. Nurses from two stations over chimed in with "let us know how it turns out!" We were well-wished all the way out the door.
Next step was to wait for that monthly visitor to make other arrangements and skip town for awhile. It looked promising. Very promising. In fact, I was 4 days late! 4 days people! It needs to be known that I have never been 4 days late. The most I have every gotten was 1 day late. So 4 was confusing, hopeful, trying, and wonderful at the same time. I took many a pregnancy test with obviously negative results, but no signs of that monthly visitor, not even a hint!
Look, are you just fiddling around with me or what?
I just want you to feel you are doing well.
After the second skipped day, we actually allowed ourselves to enjoy it. The thoughts of a little one being able to join our family were just too exciting. (Not to mention finally being able to try on that stay-at-home mom hat.) We told ourselves not to get too excited, after all there was no definite "yes" yet. But it was the closest we have ever been. We talked about how wouldn't it be crazy if all we needed was 1 round of IUI this whole time. Years I tell you, years we've been trying! 1 Round! Just crazy. We've been fairly certain this whole time that we are headed for IVF and that the rounds of IUI were just pieces on the path. So much hope.
Do you hear that Fezzik? That is the sound of ultimate suffering.
2 days later it came crashing down. Right before Thanksgiving in fact. I had that Wednesday off and instead of using it for good (cleaning the house, packing, baking, general getting readiness so we could join the family that evening) I spent it in the basement in front of the TV watching episode after episode of 'Psych'. Shockingly appropriate huh! I was having a well deserved pity party and the world was better for it. Had I allowed myself to mingle with family I might have done something awkward like break down in tears for no apparent reason. Or perhaps even bitten someone's head off. That's always a bit awkward even if there is a good reason.
When the job went wrong he went back to the beginning. Well, this is where we got the job, so it's the beginning.
There's still hope though, or at least steps to take. I just finished another round of Femara and am waiting for that magic stick peeing moment to get another doctor appointment for the second round of IUI. There is comfort in a plan. Steps to be taken, not too much time to sit around and feel sorry for one's self.
Don't rush me, sonny. You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles.
And in the meantime, while waiting for that little miracle to take place in our lives, at least there's one more guaranteed trip to IKEA before all this is through. I feel another piece of our bedroom set will be joining us soon.
**10 points to the first namer of the movie. Hey, you never know when you are gonna need an extra 10 points! Thanks for reading.**
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
One Step at a Time
Lora has hinted several times that she would be very interested to see what I would have to say about our Journey so far with trying to have children. So... here is trying to put into words what it is like for me. It may turn out to be a book, so trudge through at your own risk.
I don't think anyone ever expects to wait so long for some things in there life. I knew I didn't want to get married young and always thought it would be sometime after I turned 25. I guess be careful what you wish for because I had no idea it would take me until almost 33. Earlier on, I didn't put it off, but I didn't pursue it nearly as much as I could have. Through all of that waiting, I always knew somehow that I would find someone wonderful, and lo and behold I found her, and she was definitely worth the wait.
When we were married, I wasn't sure if I wanted to have children right away either. Selfishly or not, in spite of getting married later in life (at least around these parts) I wanted to have at least a year with Lora to myself. Yet again, a wish for a little time turned into a surprisingly long wait, because here we are, 5 years and still waiting and we still don't know when children will come.
For me, it is easy to see some similarities between waiting to find the one to marry and trying to have children. I enjoyed life. I was basically pretty happy as I am tremendously so now with Lora, but I started to feel and now feel even more so the missing part of what else I want in my life: then marriage, and now children. Although I say it's a wait, really it is more a pursuit. You have to take steps and go after what you want. To get married, you have to meet people and date. For us to have children we have registered to adopt at an agency and we are also going to a fertility clinic. For each, you took the step, hoping it will turn out with what you wish, but many times you had to keep going even after there were times when the signs pointed to it being the time had finally come when it actually was not; a canceled engagement here, a you think your are pregnant there. Those close calls can be hard.
Trying to have children is also different. Even though it is much better to go through the hard times together, it seems you feel the pain for both of you. I feel much more urgent this time. A part of that is simply that the clock is ticking. How old will I be when it finally happens? When they Graduate? When they get Married and have there own kids? Will I be around long as a Grandpa? But the bigger part is that, even though I feel we are really happy now and enjoying life with just the two of us, it's just knowing that there is this other aspect to life that will be much more difficult, but oh so much more rewarding with children, and I want that.
One of the biggest frustrations is I want to go faster than we are able. Either it costs so much so we have to save for it, or it just takes so much time and energy, or life just simply gets in the way. For fertility, it was minor complications slowing the doctor down and him being cautious. Now that we are going to a good fertility clinic, I feel like we are moving a lot faster. Or it was getting signed up for adoption which is quite the involved process and it just takes a long time. Even when we decided to buy a house and we just couldn't focus on much else, adoption or doctors. Some things just take too much focus to do much else.
Adoption brings its own interesting thoughts and feelings. I'd always been open to the idea since my cousin, whose family I am very close to, was adopted. Her older sister also adopted her first son. I also have several other family and friends who have adopted. From them I knew that adopted children are not second class kids who the parents had to settle for, but are as much a part of the family as any other child, loved as much as any other; and that is how it would be with us. But I have heard and seen how adoption brings its own challenges. Adopted kids basically have both a heritage from the family they are adopted into as well as a biological heritage from their birth parents. A part of them will be from other than you. This is even more so now that adoptions are much more open and not closed like they used to be. Depending on how involved the birth parents will want to be, there will be other people in the lives of your adopted child. I've seen some where they are like extended family. That isn't bad for me, but something else to juggle and consider as you raise your child.
We've had one birth mother interested in us so far that we know of. We were told she was still considering us for a while. We never met her and she finally choose another family. It was exciting to know that we were being looked at. But when it didn't happen, it was disappointing, but maybe not as much as it could have been since we had not yet met her or felt like it was going to happen
When we first went in and talked with our case worker, we had such a good experience with how we felt about it. I think it will be an option we keep open even the fertility stops getting in the way; so for me, not so much if, but most likely when. However, much can happen, so we will have to see.
Going to the doctors has been its own adventure. You get to open up what is usually the most private process of your lives to other people. That can be hard and awkward, and much more so for Lora than me. We have been classified into the "unexplained infertility" category. From all of the tests, there is no good reason why we can't get pregnant. There is one thing going on that may be impeding things, but not necessarily. That in itself is frustrating because you really don't have any good answers. In some ways it would be easier to know why, even if it meant that the option was closed.
Even though we have been going to the doctors for months both times we pursued this, but the other frustrating thing is how far we have gone. Not very. The first time, the furthest we got was Lora taking a round of Clomid. That is as far as we got after months of monitoring and even a laparoscopy. Now that we are going to a specialist at a fertility clinic, we are at least moving. We have taken the battery of tests and got those out of the way. We are now in the the step of several rounds of IUI (artificial insemination), and if that doesn't get us there, we have a plan in place to try In vitro fertilization. It feels so much better to be doing things now and have a much more concrete plan in place.
But, depending on how things go, we are vulnerable again to things not happening. I kind of got used to another month and nothing. Now we will have a reason to hope for something during some of the months ahead and if it turns out that not that month; well, it will be difficult to be disappointed again. Still, I'd rather be doing something. You won't get anywhere doing nothing.
I know we will eventually have children of our own. I know it because I've got this feeling inside like I did that I would find someone wonderful to marry. Not having children just isn't an option. It gives me a lot of peace, which helps so much through the setbacks and dashed moments of hope and not understanding why it isn't happening until later. So, here we are. We just plug along, truly enjoying what we have now and for the most part being really happy, but desiring something so much more.
From whichever method the child arrives, I do feel one thing very strongly. Children are brought to a family by divine guidance. When we finally get there, the children will be meant for us. And we are going to be AWESOME parents too!
I don't think anyone ever expects to wait so long for some things in there life. I knew I didn't want to get married young and always thought it would be sometime after I turned 25. I guess be careful what you wish for because I had no idea it would take me until almost 33. Earlier on, I didn't put it off, but I didn't pursue it nearly as much as I could have. Through all of that waiting, I always knew somehow that I would find someone wonderful, and lo and behold I found her, and she was definitely worth the wait.
When we were married, I wasn't sure if I wanted to have children right away either. Selfishly or not, in spite of getting married later in life (at least around these parts) I wanted to have at least a year with Lora to myself. Yet again, a wish for a little time turned into a surprisingly long wait, because here we are, 5 years and still waiting and we still don't know when children will come.
For me, it is easy to see some similarities between waiting to find the one to marry and trying to have children. I enjoyed life. I was basically pretty happy as I am tremendously so now with Lora, but I started to feel and now feel even more so the missing part of what else I want in my life: then marriage, and now children. Although I say it's a wait, really it is more a pursuit. You have to take steps and go after what you want. To get married, you have to meet people and date. For us to have children we have registered to adopt at an agency and we are also going to a fertility clinic. For each, you took the step, hoping it will turn out with what you wish, but many times you had to keep going even after there were times when the signs pointed to it being the time had finally come when it actually was not; a canceled engagement here, a you think your are pregnant there. Those close calls can be hard.
Trying to have children is also different. Even though it is much better to go through the hard times together, it seems you feel the pain for both of you. I feel much more urgent this time. A part of that is simply that the clock is ticking. How old will I be when it finally happens? When they Graduate? When they get Married and have there own kids? Will I be around long as a Grandpa? But the bigger part is that, even though I feel we are really happy now and enjoying life with just the two of us, it's just knowing that there is this other aspect to life that will be much more difficult, but oh so much more rewarding with children, and I want that.
One of the biggest frustrations is I want to go faster than we are able. Either it costs so much so we have to save for it, or it just takes so much time and energy, or life just simply gets in the way. For fertility, it was minor complications slowing the doctor down and him being cautious. Now that we are going to a good fertility clinic, I feel like we are moving a lot faster. Or it was getting signed up for adoption which is quite the involved process and it just takes a long time. Even when we decided to buy a house and we just couldn't focus on much else, adoption or doctors. Some things just take too much focus to do much else.
Adoption brings its own interesting thoughts and feelings. I'd always been open to the idea since my cousin, whose family I am very close to, was adopted. Her older sister also adopted her first son. I also have several other family and friends who have adopted. From them I knew that adopted children are not second class kids who the parents had to settle for, but are as much a part of the family as any other child, loved as much as any other; and that is how it would be with us. But I have heard and seen how adoption brings its own challenges. Adopted kids basically have both a heritage from the family they are adopted into as well as a biological heritage from their birth parents. A part of them will be from other than you. This is even more so now that adoptions are much more open and not closed like they used to be. Depending on how involved the birth parents will want to be, there will be other people in the lives of your adopted child. I've seen some where they are like extended family. That isn't bad for me, but something else to juggle and consider as you raise your child.
We've had one birth mother interested in us so far that we know of. We were told she was still considering us for a while. We never met her and she finally choose another family. It was exciting to know that we were being looked at. But when it didn't happen, it was disappointing, but maybe not as much as it could have been since we had not yet met her or felt like it was going to happen
When we first went in and talked with our case worker, we had such a good experience with how we felt about it. I think it will be an option we keep open even the fertility stops getting in the way; so for me, not so much if, but most likely when. However, much can happen, so we will have to see.
Going to the doctors has been its own adventure. You get to open up what is usually the most private process of your lives to other people. That can be hard and awkward, and much more so for Lora than me. We have been classified into the "unexplained infertility" category. From all of the tests, there is no good reason why we can't get pregnant. There is one thing going on that may be impeding things, but not necessarily. That in itself is frustrating because you really don't have any good answers. In some ways it would be easier to know why, even if it meant that the option was closed.
Even though we have been going to the doctors for months both times we pursued this, but the other frustrating thing is how far we have gone. Not very. The first time, the furthest we got was Lora taking a round of Clomid. That is as far as we got after months of monitoring and even a laparoscopy. Now that we are going to a specialist at a fertility clinic, we are at least moving. We have taken the battery of tests and got those out of the way. We are now in the the step of several rounds of IUI (artificial insemination), and if that doesn't get us there, we have a plan in place to try In vitro fertilization. It feels so much better to be doing things now and have a much more concrete plan in place.
But, depending on how things go, we are vulnerable again to things not happening. I kind of got used to another month and nothing. Now we will have a reason to hope for something during some of the months ahead and if it turns out that not that month; well, it will be difficult to be disappointed again. Still, I'd rather be doing something. You won't get anywhere doing nothing.
I know we will eventually have children of our own. I know it because I've got this feeling inside like I did that I would find someone wonderful to marry. Not having children just isn't an option. It gives me a lot of peace, which helps so much through the setbacks and dashed moments of hope and not understanding why it isn't happening until later. So, here we are. We just plug along, truly enjoying what we have now and for the most part being really happy, but desiring something so much more.
From whichever method the child arrives, I do feel one thing very strongly. Children are brought to a family by divine guidance. When we finally get there, the children will be meant for us. And we are going to be AWESOME parents too!
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Back in the Saddle Again
So a quick update on the child and the getting thereof.
Most of you know we're working with the doctor again, this time a specialist. Last update was 4 rounds of IUI and see what happens, unless there's a cyst. So of course there's a cyst. Why wouldn't there be a cyst?!? Did they not realize who they are dealing with. I have cysts and that's just how it goes. So the last three months have been the months of monitoring.
Good news is that after three months of monitoring said cyst (I shan't even give this one a name) we're moving forward anyways. Dr. Hatasaka is a little more aggressive with these things and I for one am quite happy about that.
So on Friday I started taking Femara which is a non-FDA approved drug that does similar things as Clomid but with fewer side effects. He feels confident with it and I have no reason to doubt so here we are. Next step is the ever loverly stick-peeing game (sorry I don't know how to word that differently and still leave no doubt about how I feel) and when the appropriate spike happens, we give the doctor a call, go in the next day and do the first round of IUI. I know, we're living on the edge here.
I mostly wanted you all to know that we're still pursuing. Still headed down the road of children one way or another. As stated before I really don't care how our children come into our family just so long as they come!
The end... for now.
Most of you know we're working with the doctor again, this time a specialist. Last update was 4 rounds of IUI and see what happens, unless there's a cyst. So of course there's a cyst. Why wouldn't there be a cyst?!? Did they not realize who they are dealing with. I have cysts and that's just how it goes. So the last three months have been the months of monitoring.
Good news is that after three months of monitoring said cyst (I shan't even give this one a name) we're moving forward anyways. Dr. Hatasaka is a little more aggressive with these things and I for one am quite happy about that.
So on Friday I started taking Femara which is a non-FDA approved drug that does similar things as Clomid but with fewer side effects. He feels confident with it and I have no reason to doubt so here we are. Next step is the ever loverly stick-peeing game (sorry I don't know how to word that differently and still leave no doubt about how I feel) and when the appropriate spike happens, we give the doctor a call, go in the next day and do the first round of IUI. I know, we're living on the edge here.
I mostly wanted you all to know that we're still pursuing. Still headed down the road of children one way or another. As stated before I really don't care how our children come into our family just so long as they come!
The end... for now.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Survey says...
There's nothing wrong!
Yep, you heard me correctly. We met with Dr. Hatasaka today to review the test results of blood, timing, and every other little thing, and well, it seems we're just fine. Which does nothing to explain the whole no child, no pregnancy, no person to feel guilty about putting us in the rest home when we finally lose it.
Sigh.
Some would call this good news. Others, myself really, would call it bad. Although it's good in a way cause... well we know there's nothing wrong... k, so at least we can move on to... Nope. Still bad for me. I was hoping that these tests would say "Hey Lora, here's the problem! It's been here all along you just needed to do this." Or "Oh, now I see it. Clearly there's nothing to do now but this."
Verdict: Unexplained Infertility
Plan from here: 4 rounds of Clomid and IUI (in utero insemination) If that doesn't work they bring out the big guns.
Foreseeable complications: If I have a cyst... deal off. New plan: get rid of cyst. (stupid cyst)
I confess it took me a bit to get comfortable with this idea. I really was hoping to forgo the Clomid thing and jump right into IVF. It's probably just me but I think that's where we are headed anyways, so why not just skip the preliminaries?
But then again, maybe I'll be surprised. Perhaps this is just where we need to be. Perhaps this was part of the plan always. Perhaps...
Yep, you heard me correctly. We met with Dr. Hatasaka today to review the test results of blood, timing, and every other little thing, and well, it seems we're just fine. Which does nothing to explain the whole no child, no pregnancy, no person to feel guilty about putting us in the rest home when we finally lose it.
Sigh.
Some would call this good news. Others, myself really, would call it bad. Although it's good in a way cause... well we know there's nothing wrong... k, so at least we can move on to... Nope. Still bad for me. I was hoping that these tests would say "Hey Lora, here's the problem! It's been here all along you just needed to do this." Or "Oh, now I see it. Clearly there's nothing to do now but this."
Verdict: Unexplained Infertility
Plan from here: 4 rounds of Clomid and IUI (in utero insemination) If that doesn't work they bring out the big guns.
Foreseeable complications: If I have a cyst... deal off. New plan: get rid of cyst. (stupid cyst)
I confess it took me a bit to get comfortable with this idea. I really was hoping to forgo the Clomid thing and jump right into IVF. It's probably just me but I think that's where we are headed anyways, so why not just skip the preliminaries?
But then again, maybe I'll be surprised. Perhaps this is just where we need to be. Perhaps this was part of the plan always. Perhaps...
On a brighter note, I have an amazing find for book lovers everywhere. It's called Jenson Books and it's by the S.E.I. factory outlet here in Logan. I got these:
For $7.00! Not $7.00 each, $7.00 for the whole shebang! Seriously, where has this been all my life! I like to just sit and stare at it. It makes me happy.
Every day really does have a silver lining if you look hard enough.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Fertility and Horror Movies
It's me, David again.
On Friday the 13th, we are heading down to the Fertility clinic again to get one of the tests out of the way. It is called the Kruger test (as in the Kruger Strict Morphology test).
Our fertility endeavors have turned into an 80's horror movie!
On Friday the 13th, we are heading down to the Fertility clinic again to get one of the tests out of the way. It is called the Kruger test (as in the Kruger Strict Morphology test).
Our fertility endeavors have turned into an 80's horror movie!
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Bow to the fertility gods!
As many of you know, yesterday was our first appointment with a fertility specialist in Sandy. His name: Dr. Hatasaka. David and I went through the entire appointment not sure of his name because we just didn't pay that close attention. Felt a little silly when the nurse later asked what doctor we were seeing today and we said "Dr. Ha....?" "Hatasaka?" she replied. "Yes, that's it" we said sheepishly. Then immediately committed it to memory by thinking "Dr. Hot Socks!" Perfect. As a result, you'll never forget either!
K, that was a lot of nothingness but I had fun.
***Warning*** this post will contain things that may make you uncomfortable if you are unable to handle the topic of reproduction or the inability to.
Verdict: There are six tests to be done that are actually conclusive.
1. Ovulation testers: Home kits, lots of stick peeing. Chart the results
2 and 3. This is for David. He gets to have another sperm count but not just to see if he's shooting blanks, he also gets the shape of his little swimmers tested. That's right, the shape. Apparenlty not all sperm are created equal.
4. Ultrasound on my parts to see if they are shaped properly as well as lacking in scar tissue etc.
5 and 6. More blood tests to see if my "ovarian gas tank" is full or not. Hate to be wasting all that effort if I'm empty.
After these tests are complete, then the doctor will have an idea of where to go from there and what track to take. Overall David and I were pleased. He's a very easy to talk to man with a sense of humor and comfortable manner. And most of all he knows what he is talking about.
I also liked the fact that since it was in fact an appointment for infertility I was spared the trip to the scale along with the blood pressure test. It was just par for the course at the Women's Center and it wasn't until today that I realized they really only needed such vital information with each subsequent visit if you were in fact with child and therefore had a reason to be concerned about weight gain or the lack thereof. It only made me feel fat for no reason. Just one more reason to go to a specialist!
Info to pass along to others that may be walking in my shoes: if you decide to go to a specialist, start tracking your ovulation now. First day of the monthly visitor followed by the day the ovulation test shows the go ahead and then again with the period. Dr. Hot Socks would like a couple of months worth just to see where I am.
So that's it for now. Thank you all for your kind words of support. Truly appreciated.
K, that was a lot of nothingness but I had fun.
***Warning*** this post will contain things that may make you uncomfortable if you are unable to handle the topic of reproduction or the inability to.
Verdict: There are six tests to be done that are actually conclusive.
1. Ovulation testers: Home kits, lots of stick peeing. Chart the results
2 and 3. This is for David. He gets to have another sperm count but not just to see if he's shooting blanks, he also gets the shape of his little swimmers tested. That's right, the shape. Apparenlty not all sperm are created equal.
4. Ultrasound on my parts to see if they are shaped properly as well as lacking in scar tissue etc.
5 and 6. More blood tests to see if my "ovarian gas tank" is full or not. Hate to be wasting all that effort if I'm empty.
After these tests are complete, then the doctor will have an idea of where to go from there and what track to take. Overall David and I were pleased. He's a very easy to talk to man with a sense of humor and comfortable manner. And most of all he knows what he is talking about.
I also liked the fact that since it was in fact an appointment for infertility I was spared the trip to the scale along with the blood pressure test. It was just par for the course at the Women's Center and it wasn't until today that I realized they really only needed such vital information with each subsequent visit if you were in fact with child and therefore had a reason to be concerned about weight gain or the lack thereof. It only made me feel fat for no reason. Just one more reason to go to a specialist!
Info to pass along to others that may be walking in my shoes: if you decide to go to a specialist, start tracking your ovulation now. First day of the monthly visitor followed by the day the ovulation test shows the go ahead and then again with the period. Dr. Hot Socks would like a couple of months worth just to see where I am.
So that's it for now. Thank you all for your kind words of support. Truly appreciated.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Confession Time
So here's where I need your support. Here is were I tell you my woes and no matter how non-sensical they are, like the wonderful people you are, you come to my aid and say: It's okay Lora, it will be alright.
For some time now my good friend and past roommate Brenda has been asking about our story. The story that led us to want to adopt. I've put it off because it just didn't seem like there was much to tell. So many people have gone through so much more than we that it just didn't feel worthy. We hadn't exhausted our resources in the medical field because we just didn't think it was the right time for us. Or more accurately, I honestly don't think I could have handled it emotionally.
When we started trying for children a whole 5 months after we got married back in September of 2005, we weren't that serious. We didn't want to wait too long because we weren't getting any younger. But we weren't entirely sure we were ready for parenthood either. We were conflicted. I needed to finish my schooling and David was contemplating going back to school. We didn't really have our path decided on. We just weren't sure where we were headed in the next little while. So though we didn't stop anything, we didn't worry too much as the months kept passing by.
And then the months kept passing by... and passing... and passing. I had graduated, got a job. David was back in school. We were older. We wanted children. Sure it wasn't the ideal time with tuition on the horizon, but we didn't care about that. We knew that the Lord would provide should He decide to bless us with a little one. So we started counting days, making use of ovulation kits, paying attention to temperature etc. Nothing. Next step was the doctor.
End of 2007 we went to a doctor that we both hated. Took blood tests and couldn't quite bring myself to go back. Got busy with life and left it for awhile. In 2008 the passing months got too much again. So we went to the Women's Center to a recommended doctor and had a better experience. He actually explained a few things, like what the tests were for and how it all worked. We did the tests, got the blood drawn, went through lovely exploratory procedures to rule out the usual suspects, and went on Clomid. What a lovely little drug so full of disappointment. Fortunately one of my other good friends, Ginny, informed me that the drug actually gives you all the signs of being pregnant. Hot flashes, brain leakage, mood swings, the works. Which is why it's so disappointing to have that monthly unwanted visitor still come and visit. And visit it did.
Back to the doctor. "Oh my, you have a cyst! I don't feel comfortable putting you on other drugs until the cyst is taken care of." Ummm. okay? "Let's wait a month and see if it goes away all by itself. Besides we don't know if it was there before the drug or if the drug actually caused it." Ummmm. Okay. So we waited until that lovely visitor came around once again, back to the doctor, cyst still there. "How about we wait another month?" Ummm, not so okay but okay. Another month rolls by with same results. At least they are prepared somewhat for my tears of frustration by this time.
Only frustration doesn't really sum it up. How about living day to day knowing how badly you and your spouse want a family and realizing that it's your body that is failing. Your body that is providing this monthly let down. And still more months go by. Finally surgery is the option of choice to take this cyst away since it's clearly in for the long haul. Oh and did I mention that in the meantime I got to be on another lovely drug that was supposed to balance some kind of hormone level with the thrilling side effect of depression? Yeah, those were good times.
Surgery successful. The surgery to remove "Bob" (yes, by this time the hated thing had a name) did the job and he was gone. More drugs? Not yet, let's give the body time to sufficiently heal.
I took myself off of the drug with the depression side effects and David rejoiced that he has his wife back and she smiles! Voluntarily! He was overjoyed.
A few more months pass and back to the doctor we go. And guess what?! Wait for it, wait for it... Bob had a brother! Took up residence once he left. Tears. Another month passes and the brother-of-Bob stays. That's when I couldn't take it anymore. At this point my doctor is giving me that "oh, it's you again" look. Very encouraging. Like I wasn't feeling bad enough already. So I quit. I took myself out of the biological baby-making game and threw myself into adoption.
We had been thinking about it for awhile but had never felt it was the right time. July of 2009 we felt like it was the right time as well as the only option that would keep me sane. It was wonderful to be doing something that didn't involve my dysfunctional body! This was paperwork, and pictures, and interviews. It was heavenly and hopeful. Our hearts were lifted and hope for a family returned. We cried as birth mothers told their stories. We cried as adoptive parents shared their joy at a prayer answered by a birth mother angel. I day dreamed about the day we would be chosen. How we would tell our families. What we needed to prepare for it. What our little one would look like. I still think about it, just not as much.
When we started the adoption process David wanted to keep both doors open, adoption and biological, and I was amenable to that as long as it was on my terms. I have trouble dividing where my energies and hopes go. My body had disappointed me for so long that I couldn't put any trust in it anymore... at least not till now.
On Memorial day at the annual Robbin's family celebratory grave hopping ritual, we were bombarded out of the blue with stories of IVF and what it entailed. Ok, bombarded might be extreme, but two very separate and hard to run into people were run into and brought up their story all by themselves. It got us thinking. It got me thinking. Perhaps it's time to open up that biological door and let in a little air.
So we've decided to go travel the biological route again. Or at least look a little farther down that road. Best part is that I'm also feeling okay with both doors being opened. I don't care where our family comes from, I just want a family. I want to join the ranks of sleepless nights and diaper brigades. I want to capture those half smiles in the sleep and the discovery of toes. Our family is just a couple. It's not complete.
So, on Monday July 19th we will be meeting with a specialist in the Salt Lake area. He's been involved in the field since the first IVF pregnancy was done in the 80s and was actually at the hospital where it was performed. It gives me hope. We hadn't thought much about this route before because it's just so expensive. However we just found out that David's insurance, that sometimes we curse, is actually phenomenal when it comes to fertility. We pay $500 and they pay 100% of the rest. We seriously had no idea. So at this point we have nothing to lose. Hope is alive once more.
Then I filled out the online questionnaire and had a bit of a reality check. It asks all sorts of questions about how old your mom was with the first and last child. Is there a history of infertility in the family? Do my sisters have trouble getting pregnant? Any weird drugs? Any health problems? I can't tell you how completely discouraging it was to answer no to all of those questions! No, there are no problems with any other member of my family for generations with infertility. I am the anomaly. I am the exception. What's wrong with me?
I have two purposes for this route. Well, I guess it's all the same. Can I have children or can't I? Up to this point it has not been clearly defined. No one knows why my body is misbehaving. No one's been willing to take it that far. Heaven knows I am but I need some help getting there. I need a professional to outline my routine so all of the diagnostic steps can be taken and an answer achieved.
I honestly am okay with finding out I can't have children. I just want to know. It's the not knowing that is so difficult. No answers. Just guesses. Dark alleys of wondering. If I know why this is happening to me, or rather not happening, then I really can go on. No more divided loyalties.
So, there you have it Brenda and all who have ventured this far into an incredibly long post. That's where our story is right now. Here's where we venture into that one dark and unexplored alley to see what's really there. And here's to hoping for a happy ending.
For some time now my good friend and past roommate Brenda has been asking about our story. The story that led us to want to adopt. I've put it off because it just didn't seem like there was much to tell. So many people have gone through so much more than we that it just didn't feel worthy. We hadn't exhausted our resources in the medical field because we just didn't think it was the right time for us. Or more accurately, I honestly don't think I could have handled it emotionally.
When we started trying for children a whole 5 months after we got married back in September of 2005, we weren't that serious. We didn't want to wait too long because we weren't getting any younger. But we weren't entirely sure we were ready for parenthood either. We were conflicted. I needed to finish my schooling and David was contemplating going back to school. We didn't really have our path decided on. We just weren't sure where we were headed in the next little while. So though we didn't stop anything, we didn't worry too much as the months kept passing by.
And then the months kept passing by... and passing... and passing. I had graduated, got a job. David was back in school. We were older. We wanted children. Sure it wasn't the ideal time with tuition on the horizon, but we didn't care about that. We knew that the Lord would provide should He decide to bless us with a little one. So we started counting days, making use of ovulation kits, paying attention to temperature etc. Nothing. Next step was the doctor.
End of 2007 we went to a doctor that we both hated. Took blood tests and couldn't quite bring myself to go back. Got busy with life and left it for awhile. In 2008 the passing months got too much again. So we went to the Women's Center to a recommended doctor and had a better experience. He actually explained a few things, like what the tests were for and how it all worked. We did the tests, got the blood drawn, went through lovely exploratory procedures to rule out the usual suspects, and went on Clomid. What a lovely little drug so full of disappointment. Fortunately one of my other good friends, Ginny, informed me that the drug actually gives you all the signs of being pregnant. Hot flashes, brain leakage, mood swings, the works. Which is why it's so disappointing to have that monthly unwanted visitor still come and visit. And visit it did.
Back to the doctor. "Oh my, you have a cyst! I don't feel comfortable putting you on other drugs until the cyst is taken care of." Ummm. okay? "Let's wait a month and see if it goes away all by itself. Besides we don't know if it was there before the drug or if the drug actually caused it." Ummmm. Okay. So we waited until that lovely visitor came around once again, back to the doctor, cyst still there. "How about we wait another month?" Ummm, not so okay but okay. Another month rolls by with same results. At least they are prepared somewhat for my tears of frustration by this time.
Only frustration doesn't really sum it up. How about living day to day knowing how badly you and your spouse want a family and realizing that it's your body that is failing. Your body that is providing this monthly let down. And still more months go by. Finally surgery is the option of choice to take this cyst away since it's clearly in for the long haul. Oh and did I mention that in the meantime I got to be on another lovely drug that was supposed to balance some kind of hormone level with the thrilling side effect of depression? Yeah, those were good times.
Surgery successful. The surgery to remove "Bob" (yes, by this time the hated thing had a name) did the job and he was gone. More drugs? Not yet, let's give the body time to sufficiently heal.
I took myself off of the drug with the depression side effects and David rejoiced that he has his wife back and she smiles! Voluntarily! He was overjoyed.
A few more months pass and back to the doctor we go. And guess what?! Wait for it, wait for it... Bob had a brother! Took up residence once he left. Tears. Another month passes and the brother-of-Bob stays. That's when I couldn't take it anymore. At this point my doctor is giving me that "oh, it's you again" look. Very encouraging. Like I wasn't feeling bad enough already. So I quit. I took myself out of the biological baby-making game and threw myself into adoption.
We had been thinking about it for awhile but had never felt it was the right time. July of 2009 we felt like it was the right time as well as the only option that would keep me sane. It was wonderful to be doing something that didn't involve my dysfunctional body! This was paperwork, and pictures, and interviews. It was heavenly and hopeful. Our hearts were lifted and hope for a family returned. We cried as birth mothers told their stories. We cried as adoptive parents shared their joy at a prayer answered by a birth mother angel. I day dreamed about the day we would be chosen. How we would tell our families. What we needed to prepare for it. What our little one would look like. I still think about it, just not as much.
When we started the adoption process David wanted to keep both doors open, adoption and biological, and I was amenable to that as long as it was on my terms. I have trouble dividing where my energies and hopes go. My body had disappointed me for so long that I couldn't put any trust in it anymore... at least not till now.
On Memorial day at the annual Robbin's family celebratory grave hopping ritual, we were bombarded out of the blue with stories of IVF and what it entailed. Ok, bombarded might be extreme, but two very separate and hard to run into people were run into and brought up their story all by themselves. It got us thinking. It got me thinking. Perhaps it's time to open up that biological door and let in a little air.
So we've decided to go travel the biological route again. Or at least look a little farther down that road. Best part is that I'm also feeling okay with both doors being opened. I don't care where our family comes from, I just want a family. I want to join the ranks of sleepless nights and diaper brigades. I want to capture those half smiles in the sleep and the discovery of toes. Our family is just a couple. It's not complete.
So, on Monday July 19th we will be meeting with a specialist in the Salt Lake area. He's been involved in the field since the first IVF pregnancy was done in the 80s and was actually at the hospital where it was performed. It gives me hope. We hadn't thought much about this route before because it's just so expensive. However we just found out that David's insurance, that sometimes we curse, is actually phenomenal when it comes to fertility. We pay $500 and they pay 100% of the rest. We seriously had no idea. So at this point we have nothing to lose. Hope is alive once more.
Then I filled out the online questionnaire and had a bit of a reality check. It asks all sorts of questions about how old your mom was with the first and last child. Is there a history of infertility in the family? Do my sisters have trouble getting pregnant? Any weird drugs? Any health problems? I can't tell you how completely discouraging it was to answer no to all of those questions! No, there are no problems with any other member of my family for generations with infertility. I am the anomaly. I am the exception. What's wrong with me?
I have two purposes for this route. Well, I guess it's all the same. Can I have children or can't I? Up to this point it has not been clearly defined. No one knows why my body is misbehaving. No one's been willing to take it that far. Heaven knows I am but I need some help getting there. I need a professional to outline my routine so all of the diagnostic steps can be taken and an answer achieved.
I honestly am okay with finding out I can't have children. I just want to know. It's the not knowing that is so difficult. No answers. Just guesses. Dark alleys of wondering. If I know why this is happening to me, or rather not happening, then I really can go on. No more divided loyalties.
So, there you have it Brenda and all who have ventured this far into an incredibly long post. That's where our story is right now. Here's where we venture into that one dark and unexplored alley to see what's really there. And here's to hoping for a happy ending.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Wondering...
... A List
1. Do you think it's really going to snow anytime soon?
2. Will I ever get the energy up to clean the bathroom?
3. What are we going to have for dinner?
4. Do doctors really know what they are talking about or is it a cruel hoax?
5. How long will my filing pile up before I do it?
6. How does David Letterman come up with ten things for each list?
7. What to get David for Christmas and why that one is so hard.
8. How long the rest of my house will stay clean?
9. Does the Christmas tree need water?
10. How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie pop?
11. Why are the things you want the most the ones you don't get to have?
Number 11 would be the main cause of my wondering. I hate to go into overkill about things, but all you women out there who have had difficult times becoming moms... what to you do to keep your sanity while waiting for the biological miracle to take place? When the world around you is filled with expectant mothers who can't keep their breakfast down, how do you "cowboy-up" and get through the day to day? It's my sad little cry for help. Any suggestions?
Just wondering.
1. Do you think it's really going to snow anytime soon?
2. Will I ever get the energy up to clean the bathroom?
3. What are we going to have for dinner?
4. Do doctors really know what they are talking about or is it a cruel hoax?
5. How long will my filing pile up before I do it?
6. How does David Letterman come up with ten things for each list?
7. What to get David for Christmas and why that one is so hard.
8. How long the rest of my house will stay clean?
9. Does the Christmas tree need water?
10. How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie pop?
11. Why are the things you want the most the ones you don't get to have?
Number 11 would be the main cause of my wondering. I hate to go into overkill about things, but all you women out there who have had difficult times becoming moms... what to you do to keep your sanity while waiting for the biological miracle to take place? When the world around you is filled with expectant mothers who can't keep their breakfast down, how do you "cowboy-up" and get through the day to day? It's my sad little cry for help. Any suggestions?
Just wondering.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Speaking of taking your breath away
Okay, so I think I have figured out why David and I haven't been blessed with children yet. I think it's me. I think that deep down inside, my body knows that should I become "with child", that means I would be required to have my blood drawn periodically. "Big deal" you say! And I return with a hearty, "You bet your booty it's a big deal!" And here's why.
K, so I had to go into the women's center to have my blood sugar levels tested among other things. Having my blood drawn is quite the ordeal for me. It's not that I'm queasy about getting poked and watching that tube fill up with my blood, it's the number of times that I get poked. Here's how it goes.
First they try the right arm, the vein disappears and they say "that's odd" and then try the left arm. Same thing happens and they go for the vein on the backside of my right hand, followed by my left hand. And it's not as if they are gentle with me either. David actually came with me for moral support (and as it turns out physical support as well) and he said it looked like they were having a mini sword fight with something underneath my skin as they tried to find and keep a hold of my vein.
Really it was the 5th time that got me. They asked if I was okay, I told them before we started the ordeal that when I start to sweat that means I would pass out. I started to sweat with the 3rd poke but they kept on going. (I now have 3 nurses surrounding me considering whether or not to tackle me from both sides at once, perhaps they can sneak up on the vein and suck the blood out before it gets away). At the 5th poke I went out like a light (that's where David came in for physical support).
"Tragic!" you say, not really, when I pass out the pain stops. I really find it quite pleasant and relaxing... until they wake me up. I really hate it when they do that, it just makes me upset. The real tragedy is that they don't know if they were able to get enough blood to run the test!
That's the end of my story. As a reward for survival, I got a Jamba Juice... Raspberry.
Really it was the 5th time that got me. They asked if I was okay, I told them before we started the ordeal that when I start to sweat that means I would pass out. I started to sweat with the 3rd poke but they kept on going. (I now have 3 nurses surrounding me considering whether or not to tackle me from both sides at once, perhaps they can sneak up on the vein and suck the blood out before it gets away). At the 5th poke I went out like a light (that's where David came in for physical support).
"Tragic!" you say, not really, when I pass out the pain stops. I really find it quite pleasant and relaxing... until they wake me up. I really hate it when they do that, it just makes me upset. The real tragedy is that they don't know if they were able to get enough blood to run the test!
That's the end of my story. As a reward for survival, I got a Jamba Juice... Raspberry.
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