Our adoption website went live last week and it's rather terrifying. TOTALLY did not expect to be so emotional. I confess that when I heard of the adoption wait as being difficult, I pshawed. How could it possibly compare to the torture of waiting, cycle after cycle, to see if a period arrived?
It's not really the same beast. My body isn't involved at all, thank God. I usually have no idea what cycle day I'm on. I don't obsessively examine every twinge in my abdomen and hint of nausea. No need to worry about having sex on certain days. No more RE visits.
The wait still sucks, though. Truly. Since we're doing domestic newborn adoption, we have to wait for a birthmom to choose us. And day to day, when I go to bed, I feel a sense of rejection that we have not been chosen that day. Not even been interviewed by phone. Not been emailed.
I realize I am being slightly ridiculous because our profile has only been up for one week at this point. And....we have already received one call. She was perfect and wonderful and I immediately fell for her. For some reason, I had expected to keep some sort of distance from birthmothers when they called, some kind of protective barrier to keep from being hurt. The barrier was promptly smashed and I don't think I can possibly hope for distance anymore.
The birthmother called on Friday night and hasn't called again. I don't have her contact info for various reasons, so I just have to wait. It feels like waiting on a guy to call times 1000. Miserable.
Even if she doesn't call back, I know I learned a lot from the call and am better prepared for others. When she called, we spent most of the time chatting and getting to know one another, and I didn't ask a few critical questions. Like, will the birthfather sign the consent forms? Huge question.
So there was that call on Fri, and a hint of a call on Sat night. Someone from a nearby area code where a lot of birthmoms live called but didn't respond when my husband picked up. I was gone at book club. We're realizing that I'm the key player here, not my husband. We knew the focus would be more on me, we just hadn't realized how much that would be the case. Which makes rejection even more personal. UGH.
One reason I hadn't been adequately prepared for the wait is that my sample size of people using this website is very small, and some friends of ours got several calls very quickly. They're young and awesome and in demand, obviously, and had a baby ONE MONTH after posting their profile. Yeah. So it's hard not to feel some bizarre sense of competition, and feeling like we're failing.
Ok, pity party over. Called my psychiatrist yesterday and we have a plan to deal with my heightened mood lability (ie, crying a lot). I'm 100% confident that I'll feel a bit better soon.
*****
My heart is with Boston. This atrocity is so hard to comprehend. I used to run a lot of races, including half marathons, and made a lot of runner friends. This is hitting so close to home for them, as many of them have run Boston or aspired to. I just can't believe this happened.
*****
We posted our adoption website on Facebook and it's so uncomfortable. It feels like a big declaration of my uterus being faulty (no, have not resolved my anger towards my body), and like we're asking people to endorse us as parents. Other people get to have sex and then announce a pregnancy a few months later, and I have to ask people to vote for me as a parent. Great.
Ok then! Could not stay our of pity territory for long, oops. :P
Part of my plan to get through the waiting it to stay busy. My policy is not to turn down any social opportunities, plan lots of weekend activities, etc. And relish finishing up the nursery. It is getting close--apparently painting a mural is easier said than done--and I want to enjoy the last of our decorating time. We WILL have a baby to occupy it, and it will hopefully not be too long from now.
birds
Showing posts with label adoption. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adoption. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Friday, March 8, 2013
Of a Nursery, Recovery, and Anniversary
Much activity is taking place around the Detour household: we are pursuing adoption!
I'm shocked that this is actually happening. Since I last posted in early January, Mr. Detour abruptly announced one morning that he was ready. The previous day, we'd met with a couple who successfully adopted through a popular website (plus an attorney), rather than an agency. (They were so successful that they matched within 2 days of posting their profile. The birthmom was 8 months along, so our friends were parents within 1 month of going live.) The idea of independent adoption sat better with Mr. Detour than using an agency, and that led to his proclamation of being ready, I guess. Whatever it was, Thank You, universe. As you know, I've been ready!
We had our two home study visits in February and are now just waiting for our social worker to write up our biography. We'll be approved by the end of this month. So I'm obsessing about getting our profile written. While I worry about time-critical concerns like that, Mr. Detour obsesses about the nursery. Yes, we are decorating it now. It is absolutely beautiful so far. I will post pics when we're further along.
I'm firmly convinced that we will have our baby by the end of this year. I refuse to allow thoughts of waiting beyond that. That strategy—being recklessly optimistic— got me through infertility, so I'm going to continue with it. We have several friends who have adopted within a few months, so who's to say it won't happen for us? I won't think too much of our neighbors who waited 3 years.
*****
Now for the pain update. Not a whole lot to report, but things are definitely on the upswing. It's about half and half: around my period, for around 2 weeks, I feel really bad. But not as bad as 6 months ago—the pain isn't constant. I don't always wake up and go to sleep in pain. The other 2 weeks of my cycle, not around my period, I feel...pretty good. The pain reminds me that it's still around, waiting to strike, but it's not too bad.
So you'd expect my pain, originating from whacked-out pelvic floor muscles, to be in my pelvis, right? The worst pain now is actually in my head. Crazy. I don't fully understand it, but it has to do with pelvic nerves telling other nerves to freak out and before you know it, every nerve in my body is on fire. So my head hurting—it's not like any headache I've ever experienced, and comes from the center of my body, like my core, right under my solar plexus. It's almost like I can feel the pain coming up from the pelvic nerves to my brain. And the pain isn't the burning type of neuropathic pain I'm used to, and I have no good words to describe it. Definitely not aching. Maybe dull but with a burning component. There's just something about it that so different from non-neuropathic pain.
I can't remember if I've posted this before, but I'm allergic to TENS now. The little sticky things that attach the electrodes make me break out in a rash. Not good at all. I have a history of problems with adhesives and thought I'd snuck around it, but sneaking only worked for so long. So TENS is currently not part of my pain strategy. It really sucks and increases my reliance on meds, but I have to focus on the good: I'm getting better.
I'm no longer held hostage by pain. I can run errands without hesitation, and I take walks three times a week. About a mile or two each time!! Shocking. I've come really far.
*****
That's where I am now. Oh, and I have a big anniversary tomorrow. The day of my surgery last year, THE surgery that started this whole mess. I've felt really emotional about it, similar to other crappy anniversaries like miscarriages or due dates. What if I hadn't had the surgery? Well, duh. I wouldn't be in pain now. But there's no way I could have known. Trying to come to terms with that decision.
So, Crappy Anniversary to me. To celebrate, hubby and I are going to the beach for 5 days, leaving tomorrow morning. Hopefully it will not be gloomy and cold there and we'll actually be able to get out some. And if not, we'll have even more time to work on our profile and get it in decent shape. It's hard to sell yourself...where do you start? How do you sound sincere and not completely cheeseball?
I'm trying to keep up with the blogosphere but admit I've been a little lacking on that front. Sorry for my absence and hope you're doing well!
I'm shocked that this is actually happening. Since I last posted in early January, Mr. Detour abruptly announced one morning that he was ready. The previous day, we'd met with a couple who successfully adopted through a popular website (plus an attorney), rather than an agency. (They were so successful that they matched within 2 days of posting their profile. The birthmom was 8 months along, so our friends were parents within 1 month of going live.) The idea of independent adoption sat better with Mr. Detour than using an agency, and that led to his proclamation of being ready, I guess. Whatever it was, Thank You, universe. As you know, I've been ready!
We had our two home study visits in February and are now just waiting for our social worker to write up our biography. We'll be approved by the end of this month. So I'm obsessing about getting our profile written. While I worry about time-critical concerns like that, Mr. Detour obsesses about the nursery. Yes, we are decorating it now. It is absolutely beautiful so far. I will post pics when we're further along.
I'm firmly convinced that we will have our baby by the end of this year. I refuse to allow thoughts of waiting beyond that. That strategy—being recklessly optimistic— got me through infertility, so I'm going to continue with it. We have several friends who have adopted within a few months, so who's to say it won't happen for us? I won't think too much of our neighbors who waited 3 years.
*****
Now for the pain update. Not a whole lot to report, but things are definitely on the upswing. It's about half and half: around my period, for around 2 weeks, I feel really bad. But not as bad as 6 months ago—the pain isn't constant. I don't always wake up and go to sleep in pain. The other 2 weeks of my cycle, not around my period, I feel...pretty good. The pain reminds me that it's still around, waiting to strike, but it's not too bad.
So you'd expect my pain, originating from whacked-out pelvic floor muscles, to be in my pelvis, right? The worst pain now is actually in my head. Crazy. I don't fully understand it, but it has to do with pelvic nerves telling other nerves to freak out and before you know it, every nerve in my body is on fire. So my head hurting—it's not like any headache I've ever experienced, and comes from the center of my body, like my core, right under my solar plexus. It's almost like I can feel the pain coming up from the pelvic nerves to my brain. And the pain isn't the burning type of neuropathic pain I'm used to, and I have no good words to describe it. Definitely not aching. Maybe dull but with a burning component. There's just something about it that so different from non-neuropathic pain.
I can't remember if I've posted this before, but I'm allergic to TENS now. The little sticky things that attach the electrodes make me break out in a rash. Not good at all. I have a history of problems with adhesives and thought I'd snuck around it, but sneaking only worked for so long. So TENS is currently not part of my pain strategy. It really sucks and increases my reliance on meds, but I have to focus on the good: I'm getting better.
I'm no longer held hostage by pain. I can run errands without hesitation, and I take walks three times a week. About a mile or two each time!! Shocking. I've come really far.
*****
That's where I am now. Oh, and I have a big anniversary tomorrow. The day of my surgery last year, THE surgery that started this whole mess. I've felt really emotional about it, similar to other crappy anniversaries like miscarriages or due dates. What if I hadn't had the surgery? Well, duh. I wouldn't be in pain now. But there's no way I could have known. Trying to come to terms with that decision.
So, Crappy Anniversary to me. To celebrate, hubby and I are going to the beach for 5 days, leaving tomorrow morning. Hopefully it will not be gloomy and cold there and we'll actually be able to get out some. And if not, we'll have even more time to work on our profile and get it in decent shape. It's hard to sell yourself...where do you start? How do you sound sincere and not completely cheeseball?
I'm trying to keep up with the blogosphere but admit I've been a little lacking on that front. Sorry for my absence and hope you're doing well!
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Much-needed Update
Hi guys. Happy new year to you all and I am trying to catch up on your blogs. My absence was due to a very boring reason: work. For the past several months, I have worked like crazy and collapsed in front of the TV at night. It's been a crappy, unhealthy cycle, and blogging has had to take a backseat. The especially bummy part is that I'm not sure when work will slow down.
In addition to feeling blahsville about work, my Get a Baby plan is completely stalled. I am 100% ready to begin adoption proceedings and my husband is not. I can't make him be ready, and trying to talk to him about it more and more is veering into coercion territory. I hate that we're in this position; it's a huge strain and I've never felt more at odds with him. There is so much more to the story that I won't get into here, including his denial that I'm finished with trying for a bio baby. Please tell me we aren't the only couple who goes through this when deciding to adopt. I have heard that many couples go through this, but I can't rid myself of this feeling that we're the oddballs. And that this will never happen for us.
The holidays have really stalled any progress we were making in the adoption direction because we've had so many trips and family visits. A week with my parents at Thanksgiving, and now we're in the middle of 2.5 weeks of solid family time. I KNOW. It's a looong time.
This month, I'm hoping to meet with three different adoptive couples (with the hubster present, of course, since he needs this more than I do), one of which used ParentProfiles.com instead of an agency. We're really intrigued by that and want to learn more.
The good news with me is that my pain is getting MUCH better. I cannot believe the progress I've made in the past few months. I'm actually getting teary just thinking about it. I still have good weeks and bad weeks; I'm in the middle of a good one and I've practically been Mary Poppins singing and dancing my way around the house as I entertain my little nieces and nephews. It's like I'm another person. I don't really know who this person is, but I like her.
I feel like I have so much more to say, but can't quite put it into words. I hope to be back here soon and better in touch with you guys. I've been thinking of you often!
In addition to feeling blahsville about work, my Get a Baby plan is completely stalled. I am 100% ready to begin adoption proceedings and my husband is not. I can't make him be ready, and trying to talk to him about it more and more is veering into coercion territory. I hate that we're in this position; it's a huge strain and I've never felt more at odds with him. There is so much more to the story that I won't get into here, including his denial that I'm finished with trying for a bio baby. Please tell me we aren't the only couple who goes through this when deciding to adopt. I have heard that many couples go through this, but I can't rid myself of this feeling that we're the oddballs. And that this will never happen for us.
The holidays have really stalled any progress we were making in the adoption direction because we've had so many trips and family visits. A week with my parents at Thanksgiving, and now we're in the middle of 2.5 weeks of solid family time. I KNOW. It's a looong time.
This month, I'm hoping to meet with three different adoptive couples (with the hubster present, of course, since he needs this more than I do), one of which used ParentProfiles.com instead of an agency. We're really intrigued by that and want to learn more.
The good news with me is that my pain is getting MUCH better. I cannot believe the progress I've made in the past few months. I'm actually getting teary just thinking about it. I still have good weeks and bad weeks; I'm in the middle of a good one and I've practically been Mary Poppins singing and dancing my way around the house as I entertain my little nieces and nephews. It's like I'm another person. I don't really know who this person is, but I like her.
I feel like I have so much more to say, but can't quite put it into words. I hope to be back here soon and better in touch with you guys. I've been thinking of you often!
Saturday, October 20, 2012
I Never Want to Be Pregnant
Under no circumstances do I want to be pregnant. I do not want to have an oopsie baby after I adopt. I do not want to have a surprise pregnancy at age 43. I do not want to do another letrozole cycle.
This does not mean I don't wish things were different with my body. That I don't wish I had another body without a pain syndrome and uterine issues. I still long to grow a round belly, feel kicks and punches from a little one inside me. The desire, the longing, is still there. But it's like wishing you hadn't broken your arm; it's broken and you have to deal with it. Maybe you have to stop playing tennis forever. Maybe the break is so bad it will affect you the rest of your life. You can spend your time wishing you weren't limited physically or you can adjust your expectations.
My decision to forever stop TTC didn't happen overnight. A few weeks after my surgery in March, even though I was still in extreme pain, I was scheduling a 3D sonogram appointment to prepare for my next letrozole cycle. I was optimistic. I didn't know this kind of pain syndrome even existed. Who has heard about pelvic floor muscles unless you've given birth or are 80 years old? I hadn't been aware of mine.
Needless to say, I had to cancel the 3D sono appointment, which was just one of the many things that has given me pause since March. If I couldn't schedule it at that point, then when? The next month? Three months from now? (Correct answer is none of the above.)
My thinking shifted gradually. I'd felt unsure about trying for pregnancy #3, anyway. Pregnancy #2 ended around 7 weeks last fall. The chromosomal testing came back normal, and my doctor thought the miscarriage was related to a structural problem with my uterus. Supposedly the structural issue was fixed by my last (catastrophic) surgery, but who really knows? Why tempt fate? Why put myself in the position to lose another baby when my heart has been shattered twice already?
As the months ticked by after the surgery, I stopped planning for my next RE appointment. I had a brand new, all-consuming shitstorm with that wasn't TTC-related: chronic pain. But in spite of that, I started living again. I ate what I wanted: suddenly, soy is ok again! Dairy is not evil! No need to go gluten/nut/coffee/sugar-free for fostering the ideal environment for baby to stick around! I didn't know what cycle day I was on. I didn't cry in the bathroom when my period arrived and then fill my grief with baked goods. Not TTCing has been one of the most freeing things in the world.
Before The Surgery to End All Surgeries, I'd had difficulty conceiving and two miscarriages, and I hated TTCing. The IF blogosphere is filled with people like me who keep trying, understandably, for their take-home baby. Chronic pain is what did me in.
I'm kind of an old pro with intermittent pelvic pain. I've had horribly painful periods since I was a teenager, which turned out to be endometriosis that was probably contributing to my infertility (huge surprise—not). But the painful periods were only for a few days a month.
The pain I have now is all the time.
I've never experienced any kind of chronic, day-to-day pain other than run-of-the mill tendinitis or other exercise-related aches. This is completely new. If I hadn't gone through infertility and loss, I'd say this is the hardest thing I've ever gone through. So it's a close third. The pain tries to shatter me. Not one aspect of my life is untouched: my relationships, my job, my sleep. My sanity.
I've used about 130 hours of sick leave for the pain since March. I missed my nephew's first birthday party and my niece's summer ballet recital. My demeanor has been irritable and prickly for the most part, even if at first I appear pleasant. A smile or pleasant conversation does not mean I'm not in pain or will not suddenly lash out at something. Or just lose track of what you're saying as I plot my next attempt at pain relief. My pain level is usually pretty high but I'm trying, trying ever so hard to pretend it doesn't exist. The irritability is usually unleashed on my husband, and when I immediately apologize and explain that my pain level is really high, he is understanding. But he doesn't deserve this.
I go to PT weekly and usually have one other doctor's appointment during the week; it's a big time-suck. At these appointments, I've asked about my prognosis, of course. My healthcare providers don't like this question because they don't know the answer. They hem and haw a bit, and say we'll have to wait and see, "ask me again in a few weeks." The two physicians I've asked are both pelvic pain specialists, and both have predicted that I would "probably" be fine with a pregnancy. That pregnancy hormones tend to have a calming influence on my syndrome.
Fine. But what about the ENTIRE REST OF MY LIFE AFTER THE PREGNANCY? Will the changes wrought by pregnancy and childbirth wreak havoc on my already fucked-up body?
The physicians haven't given me a real answer for that. My PT has given it to me straight, though. She says she's seen it both ways: some people with my issues have a pregnancy that goes ok and they feel fine afterwards, and some do not. I didn't ask her to elaborate much because I don't even want to hear about patients who have it worse afterwards; I cannot imagine their pain.
I'm not a risk-taker. Not that anyone knows statistics for outcomes of women with uterine abnormalities who have undergone surgeries and go on to develop chronic pelvic pain and then go on to have pregnancies, but I've thought a little about what kind of odds I would bet on: at what odds of worsened pain in the future would I consider getting pregnant again? What if 50% of women like me felt ok during the pregnancy and then, postpartum and beyond, felt even better than before the pregnancy? 50/50 odds. No way in hell I'd do it. What if 90% felt great afterward? Nope, still wouldn't do it.
I cannot conceive (pun intended) of a future filled with this kind of pain. It's been going on for 7 months already and I don't know how I've done it. People comment on how strong I am to have dealt with this for so long, but I don't feel strong. I just feel like myself....in severe pain. It's day-to-day living now. I try not to plan too far in advance.
If I can't find a way to decrease my pain level before I have a child, I cannot be the kind of mom I want to be. I physically could not handle the sleep deprivation that comes with a newborn; less sleep = more pain. I would be glued to the couch, not on the floor playing with my baby or walking around to soothe her at night. I couldn't take her for walks in the stroller or teach her to ride a bike. I would have trouble attending her soccer games; sitting up for a couple of hours hurts too much. Worst of all, I could not be the emotionally supportive, stable, fun type of mom I want to be. It would not be possible.
The decision not to TTC is easier knowing that adoption is a possibility. But even if adoption wasn't on the table and our remaining option was childfree living, I would have to choose childfree living over TTC. Why in the world would I choose *possibly* having severe pain the rest of my life? My (hopefully) future children would be worse off for it, my family and husband would struggle with me, and I would constantly fight the pain demon.
When I started this post, I'd intended to write even more, tell you about how in my previous incarnation, I ran a half marathon at an 8:10 min/mile pace. Now I can hardly walk a mile once a week. I'd wanted to tell you that I do still grieve for the loss of my husband's and my biological child, the little blonde boy who looks like his dad. Also, I could write for days about how you don't know until you've been there what kind of decisions you'd make when you've had pain that reaches an 8 every day, sometimes staying there for hours at a time. And it goes on for months and months, possibly years. But I've written enough for now.
For all of these reasons, I will never pursue pregnancy again. I love myself too much and won't knowingly put myself in harm's way. I want more out of life than appointments, pills, and this seemingly endless gnawing, burning pain that is trying to eat me alive.
This does not mean I don't wish things were different with my body. That I don't wish I had another body without a pain syndrome and uterine issues. I still long to grow a round belly, feel kicks and punches from a little one inside me. The desire, the longing, is still there. But it's like wishing you hadn't broken your arm; it's broken and you have to deal with it. Maybe you have to stop playing tennis forever. Maybe the break is so bad it will affect you the rest of your life. You can spend your time wishing you weren't limited physically or you can adjust your expectations.
My decision to forever stop TTC didn't happen overnight. A few weeks after my surgery in March, even though I was still in extreme pain, I was scheduling a 3D sonogram appointment to prepare for my next letrozole cycle. I was optimistic. I didn't know this kind of pain syndrome even existed. Who has heard about pelvic floor muscles unless you've given birth or are 80 years old? I hadn't been aware of mine.
Needless to say, I had to cancel the 3D sono appointment, which was just one of the many things that has given me pause since March. If I couldn't schedule it at that point, then when? The next month? Three months from now? (Correct answer is none of the above.)
My thinking shifted gradually. I'd felt unsure about trying for pregnancy #3, anyway. Pregnancy #2 ended around 7 weeks last fall. The chromosomal testing came back normal, and my doctor thought the miscarriage was related to a structural problem with my uterus. Supposedly the structural issue was fixed by my last (catastrophic) surgery, but who really knows? Why tempt fate? Why put myself in the position to lose another baby when my heart has been shattered twice already?
As the months ticked by after the surgery, I stopped planning for my next RE appointment. I had a brand new, all-consuming shitstorm with that wasn't TTC-related: chronic pain. But in spite of that, I started living again. I ate what I wanted: suddenly, soy is ok again! Dairy is not evil! No need to go gluten/nut/coffee/sugar-free for fostering the ideal environment for baby to stick around! I didn't know what cycle day I was on. I didn't cry in the bathroom when my period arrived and then fill my grief with baked goods. Not TTCing has been one of the most freeing things in the world.
Before The Surgery to End All Surgeries, I'd had difficulty conceiving and two miscarriages, and I hated TTCing. The IF blogosphere is filled with people like me who keep trying, understandably, for their take-home baby. Chronic pain is what did me in.
I'm kind of an old pro with intermittent pelvic pain. I've had horribly painful periods since I was a teenager, which turned out to be endometriosis that was probably contributing to my infertility (huge surprise—not). But the painful periods were only for a few days a month.
The pain I have now is all the time.
I've never experienced any kind of chronic, day-to-day pain other than run-of-the mill tendinitis or other exercise-related aches. This is completely new. If I hadn't gone through infertility and loss, I'd say this is the hardest thing I've ever gone through. So it's a close third. The pain tries to shatter me. Not one aspect of my life is untouched: my relationships, my job, my sleep. My sanity.
I've used about 130 hours of sick leave for the pain since March. I missed my nephew's first birthday party and my niece's summer ballet recital. My demeanor has been irritable and prickly for the most part, even if at first I appear pleasant. A smile or pleasant conversation does not mean I'm not in pain or will not suddenly lash out at something. Or just lose track of what you're saying as I plot my next attempt at pain relief. My pain level is usually pretty high but I'm trying, trying ever so hard to pretend it doesn't exist. The irritability is usually unleashed on my husband, and when I immediately apologize and explain that my pain level is really high, he is understanding. But he doesn't deserve this.
I go to PT weekly and usually have one other doctor's appointment during the week; it's a big time-suck. At these appointments, I've asked about my prognosis, of course. My healthcare providers don't like this question because they don't know the answer. They hem and haw a bit, and say we'll have to wait and see, "ask me again in a few weeks." The two physicians I've asked are both pelvic pain specialists, and both have predicted that I would "probably" be fine with a pregnancy. That pregnancy hormones tend to have a calming influence on my syndrome.
Fine. But what about the ENTIRE REST OF MY LIFE AFTER THE PREGNANCY? Will the changes wrought by pregnancy and childbirth wreak havoc on my already fucked-up body?
The physicians haven't given me a real answer for that. My PT has given it to me straight, though. She says she's seen it both ways: some people with my issues have a pregnancy that goes ok and they feel fine afterwards, and some do not. I didn't ask her to elaborate much because I don't even want to hear about patients who have it worse afterwards; I cannot imagine their pain.
I'm not a risk-taker. Not that anyone knows statistics for outcomes of women with uterine abnormalities who have undergone surgeries and go on to develop chronic pelvic pain and then go on to have pregnancies, but I've thought a little about what kind of odds I would bet on: at what odds of worsened pain in the future would I consider getting pregnant again? What if 50% of women like me felt ok during the pregnancy and then, postpartum and beyond, felt even better than before the pregnancy? 50/50 odds. No way in hell I'd do it. What if 90% felt great afterward? Nope, still wouldn't do it.
I cannot conceive (pun intended) of a future filled with this kind of pain. It's been going on for 7 months already and I don't know how I've done it. People comment on how strong I am to have dealt with this for so long, but I don't feel strong. I just feel like myself....in severe pain. It's day-to-day living now. I try not to plan too far in advance.
If I can't find a way to decrease my pain level before I have a child, I cannot be the kind of mom I want to be. I physically could not handle the sleep deprivation that comes with a newborn; less sleep = more pain. I would be glued to the couch, not on the floor playing with my baby or walking around to soothe her at night. I couldn't take her for walks in the stroller or teach her to ride a bike. I would have trouble attending her soccer games; sitting up for a couple of hours hurts too much. Worst of all, I could not be the emotionally supportive, stable, fun type of mom I want to be. It would not be possible.
The decision not to TTC is easier knowing that adoption is a possibility. But even if adoption wasn't on the table and our remaining option was childfree living, I would have to choose childfree living over TTC. Why in the world would I choose *possibly* having severe pain the rest of my life? My (hopefully) future children would be worse off for it, my family and husband would struggle with me, and I would constantly fight the pain demon.
When I started this post, I'd intended to write even more, tell you about how in my previous incarnation, I ran a half marathon at an 8:10 min/mile pace. Now I can hardly walk a mile once a week. I'd wanted to tell you that I do still grieve for the loss of my husband's and my biological child, the little blonde boy who looks like his dad. Also, I could write for days about how you don't know until you've been there what kind of decisions you'd make when you've had pain that reaches an 8 every day, sometimes staying there for hours at a time. And it goes on for months and months, possibly years. But I've written enough for now.
For all of these reasons, I will never pursue pregnancy again. I love myself too much and won't knowingly put myself in harm's way. I want more out of life than appointments, pills, and this seemingly endless gnawing, burning pain that is trying to eat me alive.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Singing, Cooking, and...Adopting?
Yesterday I heard something weird: my voice, singing in the car with the radio. It happened again today.
It's little things like this, realizing that I haven't sung in the car for months, that make me appreciate how shitty the past few months have been. But this week has been different. I think I've turned a corner, guys.
Last week was the worst one, emotionally speaking, in quite a while. Cried to my pelvic pain doc for 20 minutes on the phone. Sent tearful emails to my psychiatrist. Insomnia.
I was still in a really bad place this past Monday, but everything shifted slightly on Monday evening. I made myself cook dinner and realized the pain had decreased. Tuesday was even better and I cooked dinner again—shocking. The relief has continued, which is the longest stretch I've felt better in many months.
For the record, it still sucks. My TENS unit is keeping me sane; we're going steady again since I overcame some trust issues. I'm still not doing any physical activity to speak of, but I've at least rejoined my coworkers' lunchtime walking group for a few minutes before I have to turn around.
Not surprisingly, my mood has improved significantly. Fewer problems sleeping, etc.
Oh, and I almost forgot to explain what I think is responsible for my improvement: my physical therapist. After our initial sessions, I was afraid she was killing me because I felt worse. Then we figured out it was probably because our initial sessions coincided with my Pill trial (epic fail), so PT was probably not to blame. I stuck with it, seeing my therapist weekly, and her treatment last week (internal pressure points, if that's not TMI) was a revelation. My pain was worse for a couple of days, which is to be expected, but then it was better than it'd been in months.
Please cross your fingers with me that this improvement lasts. I feel like I'm starting to get my life back again and am desperately clinging to it.
*****
In the midst of last week's depression, my husband and I met again with our local adoption resource. I can't say much more about the resource without divulging my location, but if you want more info, feel free to email me (see my "Contact" tab).
The meeting restored my hope that we can do this, that this can really happen for us. The couple, who are adoptive parents themselves, gave us tons of information about the adoption process, from first steps to the legal paperwork after the baby is born. The information on initial steps was key because I've been flailing, not researching anything at all because I've felt too overwhelmed (and, well, consumed by pain).
So, first up is getting fingerprinted. The couple told us where to go to have it done...we can do this. I have to keep repeating that to myself.
The hubster is not 100% on the adoption train yet but is game to start the process. If (or, as I'm telling myself, "once") we commit to adopting, it will help if some of the initial time-consuming steps are out of the way.
I've been telling more people what we've been going through, from infertility to chronic pain to possibly adoption. Nothing like a TENS unit stuck to my hip to shred any last bit of secrecy. I've been happy to share more, though.
I am getting a lot of people telling me that adoption is wonderful and, well, you know what's coming: "Who knows, you might get pregnant in the meantime!" Or that adopting doesn't mean that we can't pursue a bio baby later, since I'm "only" 35 (in my head, it's "35 is so close to death, and maybe I'll grow old and die before I can raise a child!" and that type of hysteria). I tell people that I'm pretty convinced that a bio baby is out of the question, though, and that we'll be actively preventing pregnancy. This usually leads to looks of confusion.
I need to write a whole post about why I don't want to pursue getting pregnant ever again, starting with seven months (217 days) of severe pain. Post will include 2 miscarriages and my desire never to go through that again. I'm not saying I'm incapable of changing my mind, but with each passing day of pain, and time off from TTC and all the BS that accompanies it, I'm more and more certain.
It's little things like this, realizing that I haven't sung in the car for months, that make me appreciate how shitty the past few months have been. But this week has been different. I think I've turned a corner, guys.
Last week was the worst one, emotionally speaking, in quite a while. Cried to my pelvic pain doc for 20 minutes on the phone. Sent tearful emails to my psychiatrist. Insomnia.
I was still in a really bad place this past Monday, but everything shifted slightly on Monday evening. I made myself cook dinner and realized the pain had decreased. Tuesday was even better and I cooked dinner again—shocking. The relief has continued, which is the longest stretch I've felt better in many months.
For the record, it still sucks. My TENS unit is keeping me sane; we're going steady again since I overcame some trust issues. I'm still not doing any physical activity to speak of, but I've at least rejoined my coworkers' lunchtime walking group for a few minutes before I have to turn around.
Not surprisingly, my mood has improved significantly. Fewer problems sleeping, etc.
Oh, and I almost forgot to explain what I think is responsible for my improvement: my physical therapist. After our initial sessions, I was afraid she was killing me because I felt worse. Then we figured out it was probably because our initial sessions coincided with my Pill trial (epic fail), so PT was probably not to blame. I stuck with it, seeing my therapist weekly, and her treatment last week (internal pressure points, if that's not TMI) was a revelation. My pain was worse for a couple of days, which is to be expected, but then it was better than it'd been in months.
Please cross your fingers with me that this improvement lasts. I feel like I'm starting to get my life back again and am desperately clinging to it.
*****
In the midst of last week's depression, my husband and I met again with our local adoption resource. I can't say much more about the resource without divulging my location, but if you want more info, feel free to email me (see my "Contact" tab).
The meeting restored my hope that we can do this, that this can really happen for us. The couple, who are adoptive parents themselves, gave us tons of information about the adoption process, from first steps to the legal paperwork after the baby is born. The information on initial steps was key because I've been flailing, not researching anything at all because I've felt too overwhelmed (and, well, consumed by pain).
So, first up is getting fingerprinted. The couple told us where to go to have it done...we can do this. I have to keep repeating that to myself.
The hubster is not 100% on the adoption train yet but is game to start the process. If (or, as I'm telling myself, "once") we commit to adopting, it will help if some of the initial time-consuming steps are out of the way.
I've been telling more people what we've been going through, from infertility to chronic pain to possibly adoption. Nothing like a TENS unit stuck to my hip to shred any last bit of secrecy. I've been happy to share more, though.
I am getting a lot of people telling me that adoption is wonderful and, well, you know what's coming: "Who knows, you might get pregnant in the meantime!" Or that adopting doesn't mean that we can't pursue a bio baby later, since I'm "only" 35 (in my head, it's "35 is so close to death, and maybe I'll grow old and die before I can raise a child!" and that type of hysteria). I tell people that I'm pretty convinced that a bio baby is out of the question, though, and that we'll be actively preventing pregnancy. This usually leads to looks of confusion.
I need to write a whole post about why I don't want to pursue getting pregnant ever again, starting with seven months (217 days) of severe pain. Post will include 2 miscarriages and my desire never to go through that again. I'm not saying I'm incapable of changing my mind, but with each passing day of pain, and time off from TTC and all the BS that accompanies it, I'm more and more certain.
Monday, October 1, 2012
TENS Love Gone Bad
Let's complain about treatments, shall we? I'm so tired of them—the endless medications, PT appointments that take a large chunk out of my working day, and my new less-than-awesome TENS unit.
TENS is weird. At first I raved about it, profusely thanking my dad for sending me his unit and believing it would be life-changing. Now I'm not so sure. I think it does have some effect, but I think the initial high from it was actually a result of a good myofascial releasing PT session. Not that my dad still doesn't deserve thanks.
There are four sticky pads with electrodes that I put on my lower abdomen. Wires connect these to the unit. Long wires; part of what makes it unwieldy. The unit itself can clip to your belt and looks kinda like a pager circa 1995, if pagers then were huge and tan-colored. It's quite a bit larger than a cell phone.
I can use the unit at work or when I'm out and about at other places, but people definitely see it. At first I wore long cardigans that kinda covered it, but made me look like my right hip had a box-shaped tumor. Now I'm saying "screw it" and not bothering to cover it up, but it feels awkward. I'm not really sure yet how I'll answer questions about it.
TENS feels like an almost pleasant buzzy sensation. There are various settings, and my sweet spot is between an amplitude of 2 or 3 (out of 8). If I accidentally hit 3, I feel like my pelvis is being electrocuted and I think I've seen the muscles actually jump. Not keen on repeating this for fun. If it's at 2, I seem to get no therapeutic benefit. Has to be riiiiight at 3.78 or whatever and my OCDness makes me constantly adjust it. Doesn't help that the muscles get used to a setting and then require a higher one.
In addition to looking like I'm a 90's era drug dealer who's checking pages constantly, I sometimes flash people my electrodes. I'm pretty sure the cashier at the grocery store today saw a sticky pad in the process of falling off. The damn things will not stay on unless I tape them with medical tape. The adhesive on the medical tape makes me welt up and itch; as of 5 years ago, I'm allergic to anything resembling a Band-Aid.
Moving on to meds. I sooo wish I could stop taking all of them, just taper off and not look back. Go to acupuncture and massage and hot stone treatments once a day (each) and meditate the rest of the day. Unfortunately, that's not my life. I have a desk job and sitting compresses some key nerves, make my nerve issues worse. I'm finding ways to work around it, but avoiding sitting entirely hasn't cured me, either. If I could find SOMETHING, some magic fix that did not involve 4 hours of PT/day, I would do it.
In the meantime, I take meds. I've decided I'm really tired of Lyrica. We increased my dose recently because I think it does help the pain, but I'm so sleepy now. All. the. time. With my doctor's blessing, I tried going back down to my previous dose over the weekend, but my pain flared and I decided I'd have to cope with sleepiness on the higher dose.
I've been having horrible headaches lately. I've never been a headachey kind of person; never had a migraine (knock on wood—I know I'm very lucky), really only have headaches when I'm coming off caffeine. My theory about the recent headaches is that the neuropathic pain has made its way to my brain and is eating it from the inside out. Or possibly something less dramatic. I've been having less neuropathic pelvic pain, but the neuropathic stuff has been making its way up my torso for some time now, giving me an aching burning sensation in the middle of my body. And after the core pain started, my headaches started. So the pelvic disease is spreading.
It is indeed really weird how pelvic pain can leech out and invade YOUR ENTIRE BODY. I'm capping because it is really freaking dramatic how horrible it can make your life. And when I treat the pelvic pain by putting TENS electrodes on my abdomen, I can often make my headache go away. So freaky.
I've written a lot of posts in my head lately that haven't made it here, and one is about body image. Of course, mine took a big hit with having the low-functioning ovaries of someone 5 years older than I, a ute with multiple issues, and endo that invaded my abdomen. Now I also have to hate my pelvic floor muscles, which were body parts I'd never thought about before this. Yay.
*****
As I read back over this post, written earlier in the afternoon, I'm amazed I was able to have any kind of sense of humor in it. It's been a rough day. I'm gonna have my husband drive me to work for a couple of days because driving is hard. It's hard to concentrate when you're in pain, when Lyrica is making you tired, and sitting up is an issue. At least I tilt my seat back if my husband drives me.
I think what's scaring me so much right now is the prospect of another flare. It's reminiscent of my fear in the years following my first episode of severe depression. Every sad mood, every PMS moment, every break-up, was cause for alarm that another severe depressive episode was starting. These days, a few bad pain days in a row freaks me out. I can't do the flare thing anymore. What if it starts, how will I cope with more missed work, how long will it last, how much will it put everything else in my life on hold, like adoption...
I've started meditating daily again. I'm proud that I found room for it in my schedule; it's nice to be back to it. Also, the guilt from not doing it was intense. I'm putting a lot of pressure on myself to meditate the pain away, or do enough of some alternative treatment that will make everything ok. I feel addicted to TENS (which in itself isn't a huge problem, as long as you take breaks periodically), I feel slightly panicked that I don't see my PT again until Friday...everything is worse now, too, because I haven't been sleeping well. Working with my psychiatrist to get that worked out.
Another thing to feel guilty about: we still haven't finished the DVD from the adoption agency we're interested in. I just haven't had the energy, or I've had too much energy; when I've felt good since my last flare, I just wanted to be doing fun or immediately productive things. Adoption is daunting. I think my goal for this week, knowing that we're meeting with our adoption resource couple this Sat, is to let myself off the hook for watching this DVD. I just need to make it through the week and it will be fine if we don't watch the DVD.
In less depressing news, Homeland is amazing and highly addictive. Will temporarily take the place of Breaking Bad until the new BB season comes out on DVD. Saw The Hunger Games for the third time on Friday, which was maybe two viewings more than I needed to see this year. Love it but not three times/year love it. Our DVR hates us and has not been recording Project Runway recently. Dislike.
Ok, signing off!
TENS is weird. At first I raved about it, profusely thanking my dad for sending me his unit and believing it would be life-changing. Now I'm not so sure. I think it does have some effect, but I think the initial high from it was actually a result of a good myofascial releasing PT session. Not that my dad still doesn't deserve thanks.
There are four sticky pads with electrodes that I put on my lower abdomen. Wires connect these to the unit. Long wires; part of what makes it unwieldy. The unit itself can clip to your belt and looks kinda like a pager circa 1995, if pagers then were huge and tan-colored. It's quite a bit larger than a cell phone.
I can use the unit at work or when I'm out and about at other places, but people definitely see it. At first I wore long cardigans that kinda covered it, but made me look like my right hip had a box-shaped tumor. Now I'm saying "screw it" and not bothering to cover it up, but it feels awkward. I'm not really sure yet how I'll answer questions about it.
TENS feels like an almost pleasant buzzy sensation. There are various settings, and my sweet spot is between an amplitude of 2 or 3 (out of 8). If I accidentally hit 3, I feel like my pelvis is being electrocuted and I think I've seen the muscles actually jump. Not keen on repeating this for fun. If it's at 2, I seem to get no therapeutic benefit. Has to be riiiiight at 3.78 or whatever and my OCDness makes me constantly adjust it. Doesn't help that the muscles get used to a setting and then require a higher one.
In addition to looking like I'm a 90's era drug dealer who's checking pages constantly, I sometimes flash people my electrodes. I'm pretty sure the cashier at the grocery store today saw a sticky pad in the process of falling off. The damn things will not stay on unless I tape them with medical tape. The adhesive on the medical tape makes me welt up and itch; as of 5 years ago, I'm allergic to anything resembling a Band-Aid.
Moving on to meds. I sooo wish I could stop taking all of them, just taper off and not look back. Go to acupuncture and massage and hot stone treatments once a day (each) and meditate the rest of the day. Unfortunately, that's not my life. I have a desk job and sitting compresses some key nerves, make my nerve issues worse. I'm finding ways to work around it, but avoiding sitting entirely hasn't cured me, either. If I could find SOMETHING, some magic fix that did not involve 4 hours of PT/day, I would do it.
In the meantime, I take meds. I've decided I'm really tired of Lyrica. We increased my dose recently because I think it does help the pain, but I'm so sleepy now. All. the. time. With my doctor's blessing, I tried going back down to my previous dose over the weekend, but my pain flared and I decided I'd have to cope with sleepiness on the higher dose.
I've been having horrible headaches lately. I've never been a headachey kind of person; never had a migraine (knock on wood—I know I'm very lucky), really only have headaches when I'm coming off caffeine. My theory about the recent headaches is that the neuropathic pain has made its way to my brain and is eating it from the inside out. Or possibly something less dramatic. I've been having less neuropathic pelvic pain, but the neuropathic stuff has been making its way up my torso for some time now, giving me an aching burning sensation in the middle of my body. And after the core pain started, my headaches started. So the pelvic disease is spreading.
It is indeed really weird how pelvic pain can leech out and invade YOUR ENTIRE BODY. I'm capping because it is really freaking dramatic how horrible it can make your life. And when I treat the pelvic pain by putting TENS electrodes on my abdomen, I can often make my headache go away. So freaky.
I've written a lot of posts in my head lately that haven't made it here, and one is about body image. Of course, mine took a big hit with having the low-functioning ovaries of someone 5 years older than I, a ute with multiple issues, and endo that invaded my abdomen. Now I also have to hate my pelvic floor muscles, which were body parts I'd never thought about before this. Yay.
*****
As I read back over this post, written earlier in the afternoon, I'm amazed I was able to have any kind of sense of humor in it. It's been a rough day. I'm gonna have my husband drive me to work for a couple of days because driving is hard. It's hard to concentrate when you're in pain, when Lyrica is making you tired, and sitting up is an issue. At least I tilt my seat back if my husband drives me.
I think what's scaring me so much right now is the prospect of another flare. It's reminiscent of my fear in the years following my first episode of severe depression. Every sad mood, every PMS moment, every break-up, was cause for alarm that another severe depressive episode was starting. These days, a few bad pain days in a row freaks me out. I can't do the flare thing anymore. What if it starts, how will I cope with more missed work, how long will it last, how much will it put everything else in my life on hold, like adoption...
I've started meditating daily again. I'm proud that I found room for it in my schedule; it's nice to be back to it. Also, the guilt from not doing it was intense. I'm putting a lot of pressure on myself to meditate the pain away, or do enough of some alternative treatment that will make everything ok. I feel addicted to TENS (which in itself isn't a huge problem, as long as you take breaks periodically), I feel slightly panicked that I don't see my PT again until Friday...everything is worse now, too, because I haven't been sleeping well. Working with my psychiatrist to get that worked out.
Another thing to feel guilty about: we still haven't finished the DVD from the adoption agency we're interested in. I just haven't had the energy, or I've had too much energy; when I've felt good since my last flare, I just wanted to be doing fun or immediately productive things. Adoption is daunting. I think my goal for this week, knowing that we're meeting with our adoption resource couple this Sat, is to let myself off the hook for watching this DVD. I just need to make it through the week and it will be fine if we don't watch the DVD.
In less depressing news, Homeland is amazing and highly addictive. Will temporarily take the place of Breaking Bad until the new BB season comes out on DVD. Saw The Hunger Games for the third time on Friday, which was maybe two viewings more than I needed to see this year. Love it but not three times/year love it. Our DVR hates us and has not been recording Project Runway recently. Dislike.
Ok, signing off!
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Good-bye, Pregnancy Clothes!
I got rid of them. You know, the clothes that aren't maternity per se, but have been a little too big for you for the past 5 years? The ones you know will be great for the first tri? They're gone.
Feels great to be free of them. I've been in a weird space lately: inspired by our adoption research to start nesting, which sometimes means buying stuff, and also wanting to give a ton of away. Make room for the stuff we're really gonna use.
For the record, the friend I gave my clothes to is only a size larger than I. I think being on the Pill brings me to that size, but seeing as me and Pill do not mix (HATE), I felt good about freeing those clothes to a better home. It reminds me of how Tom & Lorenzo (fashion blog) frequently say "Girl, that's not your dress. Let it be free for some other girl to buy." The 9 pairs of pants I gave away looked so awesome on my friend.
To go with the nesting and hence spending money trend, we're getting a housecleaning service. This is huge. I'd been fantasizing about having one after we had a kid or two. We'll both be working outside the home then, and it seemed like a good place to put some money for the sake of my sanity. But then this illness started ("illness" sounds more interesting than "pain episode"...and I'm just sick of writing "pain") and the house has gotten grungier and grungier. I physically can't do the cleaning, and the hubster has very different standards (read: no standards), and I don't want to get into a nagging, resentful cycle with him when I ask him to do something.
The initial cleaning is next week, just in time for a house guest who's coming in for one night, and also in time for our second meeting with our local adoption resource. They adoptive couple is coming over and giving us more info about how to get started. I have to admit, I'm having a really hard time doing anything about adoption lately and I'm hoping this meeting jump-starts me. My husband and I are halfway through a video we received from an adoption broker, but the last time we watched any of it was weeks ago. I blame the illness (pain, whatev).
I'm going to PT every week now and I think it's helping. Learned how to use a TENS unit today; it's a little device with electrodes that stick on you and stimulate your muscles. So that by stimulating them, they somehow relearn how to relax. I don't get it but it does seem to be helping. Luckily, my dad had a TENS he sent to me, so I don't have to worry about insurance covering a personal unit or not.
I started taking unsanctioned turmeric. Usually, I'm wary of supplements unless my doctor and I are both very comfortable with them, but I just up and started taking this. Turmeric is a spice often used in curried dishes, and it's thought to have anti-inflammatory (and maybe antioxidant?) properties. The amount I'm taking daily could easily be equivalent to how much I ingested daily if I ate as much Indian food as I wish I was eating, so I'm just not worried. My internet research yielded nothing alarming. My mom swears by turmeric for her arthritis, which was a huge burden before she started taking it.
I'm in a pretty good place emotionally. It's CD1, which is a blessing in my current circumstances, as weird as it is to say as a long-time TTCer. It now means that all the PMSy, crampy horribleness will be over in a few days and I *should* have a couple of weeks of relief after that, even if relief these days means only slightly less pain.
I'm optimistic, though. PT will help; it has to. And my need to hold my adopted baby is getting stronger and stronger as my pain gets more manageable, so I see us making some progress there. Hold me accountable! :)
Feels great to be free of them. I've been in a weird space lately: inspired by our adoption research to start nesting, which sometimes means buying stuff, and also wanting to give a ton of away. Make room for the stuff we're really gonna use.
For the record, the friend I gave my clothes to is only a size larger than I. I think being on the Pill brings me to that size, but seeing as me and Pill do not mix (HATE), I felt good about freeing those clothes to a better home. It reminds me of how Tom & Lorenzo (fashion blog) frequently say "Girl, that's not your dress. Let it be free for some other girl to buy." The 9 pairs of pants I gave away looked so awesome on my friend.
To go with the nesting and hence spending money trend, we're getting a housecleaning service. This is huge. I'd been fantasizing about having one after we had a kid or two. We'll both be working outside the home then, and it seemed like a good place to put some money for the sake of my sanity. But then this illness started ("illness" sounds more interesting than "pain episode"...and I'm just sick of writing "pain") and the house has gotten grungier and grungier. I physically can't do the cleaning, and the hubster has very different standards (read: no standards), and I don't want to get into a nagging, resentful cycle with him when I ask him to do something.
The initial cleaning is next week, just in time for a house guest who's coming in for one night, and also in time for our second meeting with our local adoption resource. They adoptive couple is coming over and giving us more info about how to get started. I have to admit, I'm having a really hard time doing anything about adoption lately and I'm hoping this meeting jump-starts me. My husband and I are halfway through a video we received from an adoption broker, but the last time we watched any of it was weeks ago. I blame the illness (pain, whatev).
I'm going to PT every week now and I think it's helping. Learned how to use a TENS unit today; it's a little device with electrodes that stick on you and stimulate your muscles. So that by stimulating them, they somehow relearn how to relax. I don't get it but it does seem to be helping. Luckily, my dad had a TENS he sent to me, so I don't have to worry about insurance covering a personal unit or not.
I started taking unsanctioned turmeric. Usually, I'm wary of supplements unless my doctor and I are both very comfortable with them, but I just up and started taking this. Turmeric is a spice often used in curried dishes, and it's thought to have anti-inflammatory (and maybe antioxidant?) properties. The amount I'm taking daily could easily be equivalent to how much I ingested daily if I ate as much Indian food as I wish I was eating, so I'm just not worried. My internet research yielded nothing alarming. My mom swears by turmeric for her arthritis, which was a huge burden before she started taking it.
I'm in a pretty good place emotionally. It's CD1, which is a blessing in my current circumstances, as weird as it is to say as a long-time TTCer. It now means that all the PMSy, crampy horribleness will be over in a few days and I *should* have a couple of weeks of relief after that, even if relief these days means only slightly less pain.
I'm optimistic, though. PT will help; it has to. And my need to hold my adopted baby is getting stronger and stronger as my pain gets more manageable, so I see us making some progress there. Hold me accountable! :)
Monday, September 10, 2012
Wherein Dr. Fourth Opinion Tells Me to Spaz Down
Had my long-awaited appointment today with Dr. Fourth Opinion today, the appointment I probably pinned way too many hopes and dreams to. I just want him to fix me; that's not too much to ask, right?
He redeemed himself from his status on my shit list and I once again think he's a good doctor. We talked a lot, a lot about long-range goals, short-range goals, what to do when I'm having a flare. His answer to that last one surprised me. He doesn't want to call him if I'm flaring. Wha?? He says these flares are normal and that I need to learn how to cope with them on my own, throwing in another reminder about anxiety management.
I wonder if he talks as much to his other patients about anxiety reduction or if he's decided I'm a stressball. I totally have a chip on my shoulder; I feel like as soon as physicians see that I'm taking Prozac and Ambien, they decide to give me The Talk, the one where they tell me (as if I've never heard of these things) that I need to be using other alternative modalities, ie, meditation. And I do practice meditation and I think I'm doing a bunch of other things to reduce my stress level, although there's room for improvement.
During my appointment today, we got into a circular discussion where he'd tell me to make sure I keep my psychiatrist in the loop and keep up those alternate therapies, and I'd somewhat miss the point and throw in a "but, how do I not freak out during a flare?" "By keeping up with these other therapies." "But what about when the flare is really bad?" Etc. And I felt a little ridiculous, but this has been my life lately. I've missed a ton of work, can barely function, and am just getting back to the point where I can reliably drive myself to and from work. I guess the point is that my case isn't that unusual. Dr. FO has seen tons of us, some of us for really long periods of time, it seems. I'm not going to die from this, even though I swear, I thought I would at some points during the last few weeks.
Oh, and as predicted, Dr. FO held his position that the Pill did not cause my flare. Interesting that he's so convinced and I'm so convinced the other way. Oh, well. It does suck that I'll have to deal with painful periods every month, instead of once every 10 weeks, but I'll take a few days of cramps over the incapacitating flares.
I wish we did still have the Pill as our means of birth control, though. Apparently I'm not a candidate for anything—my RE says that absolutely, under no circumstances should I ever get an IUD. (I concur). I don't want to do any other pills with estrogen, and Dr. FO doesn't recommend the progestin options. I guess there's always vasectomy (I'm sure as hell not going to have more surgery), but that seems so...final. A little too final for now.
So, the pain plan for now is focused on PT. My PT wants to try TENS this week, which is some kind of electrical stimulation. If it reduces my pain, I might get a unit for home use. Dr. FO also increased my Lyrica dose, so we'll see if that does anything. He tweaked some of my other meds and I'm happy with how we left things.
So. Lots more appointments in my future. PT, biweekly sessions or possibly weekly if my body can handle it. Psychiatrist for spazzing down lessons (which I had plenty of in my Alice Domar-modeled IF group therapy last year...I am schooled already). Follow-up with Dr. FO in 6 weeks. Fun-ish appointments with adoptive couples to help us make some progress in that direction.
I just remembered that I think I wrote a post a while back about a doc telling me to spaz down. I feel the need to add the disclaimer that the docs aren't using those words; Dr. FO is genuinely trying to help and exploring lots of options with me. I'm just touchy about them saying meditation etc will heal all ills. It's in the "just relax" category for me, even though I know there's truth to it in the case of my pain. I've come SO FAR in reducing my anxiety in the past year and I need lots of credit for that. Shout out to Prozac, meditating, and friends.
Whew. So that was that. Onwards with kicking pain's butt!
He redeemed himself from his status on my shit list and I once again think he's a good doctor. We talked a lot, a lot about long-range goals, short-range goals, what to do when I'm having a flare. His answer to that last one surprised me. He doesn't want to call him if I'm flaring. Wha?? He says these flares are normal and that I need to learn how to cope with them on my own, throwing in another reminder about anxiety management.
I wonder if he talks as much to his other patients about anxiety reduction or if he's decided I'm a stressball. I totally have a chip on my shoulder; I feel like as soon as physicians see that I'm taking Prozac and Ambien, they decide to give me The Talk, the one where they tell me (as if I've never heard of these things) that I need to be using other alternative modalities, ie, meditation. And I do practice meditation and I think I'm doing a bunch of other things to reduce my stress level, although there's room for improvement.
During my appointment today, we got into a circular discussion where he'd tell me to make sure I keep my psychiatrist in the loop and keep up those alternate therapies, and I'd somewhat miss the point and throw in a "but, how do I not freak out during a flare?" "By keeping up with these other therapies." "But what about when the flare is really bad?" Etc. And I felt a little ridiculous, but this has been my life lately. I've missed a ton of work, can barely function, and am just getting back to the point where I can reliably drive myself to and from work. I guess the point is that my case isn't that unusual. Dr. FO has seen tons of us, some of us for really long periods of time, it seems. I'm not going to die from this, even though I swear, I thought I would at some points during the last few weeks.
Oh, and as predicted, Dr. FO held his position that the Pill did not cause my flare. Interesting that he's so convinced and I'm so convinced the other way. Oh, well. It does suck that I'll have to deal with painful periods every month, instead of once every 10 weeks, but I'll take a few days of cramps over the incapacitating flares.
I wish we did still have the Pill as our means of birth control, though. Apparently I'm not a candidate for anything—my RE says that absolutely, under no circumstances should I ever get an IUD. (I concur). I don't want to do any other pills with estrogen, and Dr. FO doesn't recommend the progestin options. I guess there's always vasectomy (I'm sure as hell not going to have more surgery), but that seems so...final. A little too final for now.
So, the pain plan for now is focused on PT. My PT wants to try TENS this week, which is some kind of electrical stimulation. If it reduces my pain, I might get a unit for home use. Dr. FO also increased my Lyrica dose, so we'll see if that does anything. He tweaked some of my other meds and I'm happy with how we left things.
So. Lots more appointments in my future. PT, biweekly sessions or possibly weekly if my body can handle it. Psychiatrist for spazzing down lessons (which I had plenty of in my Alice Domar-modeled IF group therapy last year...I am schooled already). Follow-up with Dr. FO in 6 weeks. Fun-ish appointments with adoptive couples to help us make some progress in that direction.
I just remembered that I think I wrote a post a while back about a doc telling me to spaz down. I feel the need to add the disclaimer that the docs aren't using those words; Dr. FO is genuinely trying to help and exploring lots of options with me. I'm just touchy about them saying meditation etc will heal all ills. It's in the "just relax" category for me, even though I know there's truth to it in the case of my pain. I've come SO FAR in reducing my anxiety in the past year and I need lots of credit for that. Shout out to Prozac, meditating, and friends.
Whew. So that was that. Onwards with kicking pain's butt!
Friday, August 24, 2012
Somnolence, A Break-up, and Books
Y'all, I'm sleepy.
Side note: I consciously made myself write "y'all" instead of "you guys" or some other y'all alternative. My non-Southern college friends cultivated the "y'all" out of me (I'm Southern) but I'm trying to get it back. I just like the way it sounds.
Back to being sleepy. The amitriptyline (trycyclic antidepressant) is kicking my butt. I am SO, so drowsy all the time, but not actually tired. I don't yawn and can't fall asleep before my normal bedtime. But when my alarm goes off in the morning, the struggle to stay alert begins. And it is a fight.
I'm trying to get in touch with my doctor to see if there's a different med I can try. I don't know if the amitriptyline is even helping, so maybe he'll just wean me off of it.
*****
My therapist is dumping me. She tried to soften the blow by saying we'd slowly see each other less over time, that she wasn't making a clean break. And all the usual "it's not you, it's me" stuff. Since she specializes in patients seeking infertility treatment, I'm no longer in her wheelhouse. I think she's required to primarily see infertility patients. It makes me a little sadder than I expected. She's really helped me through all of this.
However, my psychiatrist will not be dumping me. She specializes in pregnancy and women who are nursing, but she has room in her practice for a two-time pregnancy FAIL survivor. I've been seeing her for medication management, and maybe I'll transition to seeing her for talk therapy, too.
*****
In the past year, I've read several books that are memoirs of infertiles or novels with strong infertility/loss/adoption currents throughout, and some stand out as my favorites. I'm not too coherent now and am never literary enough to write a proper review, so I'll just list 'em.
It turns out that you need to be awake to do almost anything. Work, drive, blog. I'm up to three or four cups of coffee a day and it barely touches my sleepiness. Ugh. I am reading your blogs and would comment if I could formulate thoughts. I promise to be a better bloggie friend.
Have a nice weekend!
Side note: I consciously made myself write "y'all" instead of "you guys" or some other y'all alternative. My non-Southern college friends cultivated the "y'all" out of me (I'm Southern) but I'm trying to get it back. I just like the way it sounds.
Back to being sleepy. The amitriptyline (trycyclic antidepressant) is kicking my butt. I am SO, so drowsy all the time, but not actually tired. I don't yawn and can't fall asleep before my normal bedtime. But when my alarm goes off in the morning, the struggle to stay alert begins. And it is a fight.
I'm trying to get in touch with my doctor to see if there's a different med I can try. I don't know if the amitriptyline is even helping, so maybe he'll just wean me off of it.
*****
My therapist is dumping me. She tried to soften the blow by saying we'd slowly see each other less over time, that she wasn't making a clean break. And all the usual "it's not you, it's me" stuff. Since she specializes in patients seeking infertility treatment, I'm no longer in her wheelhouse. I think she's required to primarily see infertility patients. It makes me a little sadder than I expected. She's really helped me through all of this.
However, my psychiatrist will not be dumping me. She specializes in pregnancy and women who are nursing, but she has room in her practice for a two-time pregnancy FAIL survivor. I've been seeing her for medication management, and maybe I'll transition to seeing her for talk therapy, too.
*****
In the past year, I've read several books that are memoirs of infertiles or novels with strong infertility/loss/adoption currents throughout, and some stand out as my favorites. I'm not too coherent now and am never literary enough to write a proper review, so I'll just list 'em.
- Life from Scratch by Melissa Ford. Ok, this is not a book about infertility, but Melissa Ford is the web hostess of the largest network of infertiles around: Stirrup Queens. Her novel is excellent and many passages are simply beautiful, ones I would have highlighted if I'd known how to on my Kindle.
- The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards. I strongly recommend this to women feeling like no one can relate to their loss. Edwards explores loss so thoughtfully and she really, truly gets it.
- State of Wonder by Ann Patchett. Patchett is one of my faves. She wrote Bel Canto, and while I couldn't decide what I thought about that one, her others have knocked my socks off. Like Bel Canto, State of Wonder has slowly building suspense. The settings are so vivid that I felt them, saw them, and smelled them. The infertility theme in this is subtle at first, but keep reading and you won't regret it.
- Run by Ann Patchett. Two brothers in this novel are adopted, which is an important aspect of the book. I love Ann Patchett for passages like this: The ache in his ankle was like an angry conversation coming from another room, something persistent, irritated, abstracted, something you should get up and take care of but for whatever reason you don't. I connected strongly with that.
- The Patron Saint of Liars by Ann Patchett. I'm on an Ann Patchett kick, can you tell? This novel is about a woman who goes to a home for unwed mothers in the 1960's.
- Good Eggs: A Memoir by Phoebe Potts. I picked this up for a couple of bucks at Border's when they were going out of business (sad). When I got home with it and opened it for the first time, I realized it wasn't a book in the conventional sense. Instead of text, Potts uses cartoons to tell her infertility story. She drew me in right away and her personality, wit, and ability to convey emotions. Loved it.
- Waiting for Daisy by Peggy Orenstein. Another infertility memoir and her story is beautifully told. Loved it, too.
It turns out that you need to be awake to do almost anything. Work, drive, blog. I'm up to three or four cups of coffee a day and it barely touches my sleepiness. Ugh. I am reading your blogs and would comment if I could formulate thoughts. I promise to be a better bloggie friend.
Have a nice weekend!
Monday, July 23, 2012
Dr. Fourth Opinion Throws a Curve
Hi there, those of you who are ICLWers new to my blog! I'm a 35-year-old infertile, TTC #1 with two miscarriages and an inhospitable uterus. My focus lately is severe pelvic pain that's been around since a surgery 4 months ago. My husband and I are starting to think seriously about adoption.
Today was the big day. My appointment with Dr. Fourth Opinion, the man who has all my hopes and dreams riding on his shoulders. Poor guy.
He was really great. Spent a ton of time with me, really listened, had an excellent bedside manner, and seemed very competent. Also young. No offense to any young'uns around here, but this guy was probably born in the '80's and it makes me feel old to be at the age where my doctors are younger than I am.
He agreed with everything my previous doctors have said about the causes of this pain. I don't know if I'm really describing it accurately, but it has to do with pelvic floor muscle spasms. The spasms cause trigger points in my upper abdomen, giving me horrible burning pain below my ribs. The pain migrates around and is now worst in my lower pelvis, where the pain is both dull and burning. Burning is symptommatic of neuropathic pain, which I admit I don't entirely understand. Isn't all pain related to nerves firing?
Anyway, I asked Dr. Fourth Opinion The Big Question, namely what is his prognosis, particularly around a possible pregnancy. Am I foolish for considering pregnancy after all of my body's freak-outs? His answer terrified me. He said my prognosis was great, that he expects a full recovery, and a pregnancy would probably not make anything worse. Shit.
Just when I think I've got it all figured out, Dr. F.O. throws a curveball. Part of me really wants to be done with this chapter, as you all know. But on the two days a month that I'm feeling reasonably good, I think about pregnancy. I want it. I wasn't expecting the desire to grow a baby to switch off entirely, at least during my childbearing years, but when a physician tells me that it might be possible....I pretty much ovulate on the spot.
So, that's about it. Dealing with lots of mixed feelings. My big family-building decisions need to be put on hold for now until I really start getting better. I'll continue to research adoption as much as possible, also keeping in mind that the biological route is not out of the question. Grr. Back to in-betweenness where the main thing I have to do is wait. Wait and heal.
Dr. F.O. added a tricyclic antidepressant to my medication cocktail. He said his clinic likes to use tricylics and Cymbalta to treat the types of pain I'm having. I can stay on Prozac, which is very good because withdrawing from it would give me a 3-month hangover.
I will also be seeing a new physical therapist whom Dr. F.O. highly recommends. I was feeling wishy-washy about mine, anyway, so I'll look forward to seeing someone else. I mean, as much as you can look forward to the eleventieth medical appointment you've had since the beginning of the year.
I imagine some people reading this are like, "Just freakin adopt and be done with it." I'm even telling myself to just adopt. I KNOW. I know and also don't know from lack of experience how difficult the adoption process can be, but there is something very attractive about starting a different difficult process. One that doesn't involve my body. And yet, it is so expensive. Depressingly expensive. And difficult. I can't even begin to express all my thoughts about adoption vs TTC right here, right now.
Phew. This felt really good to write. Your comments about my last few posts have been so helpful. Some of you have said that choosing to adopt is not necessarily closing the door on a biological child, and I appreciate that reminder. Starting to research adoption is bringing me so much hope, so many daydreams about nurseries, and I'm so lucky to have your support along the way.
Today was the big day. My appointment with Dr. Fourth Opinion, the man who has all my hopes and dreams riding on his shoulders. Poor guy.
He was really great. Spent a ton of time with me, really listened, had an excellent bedside manner, and seemed very competent. Also young. No offense to any young'uns around here, but this guy was probably born in the '80's and it makes me feel old to be at the age where my doctors are younger than I am.
He agreed with everything my previous doctors have said about the causes of this pain. I don't know if I'm really describing it accurately, but it has to do with pelvic floor muscle spasms. The spasms cause trigger points in my upper abdomen, giving me horrible burning pain below my ribs. The pain migrates around and is now worst in my lower pelvis, where the pain is both dull and burning. Burning is symptommatic of neuropathic pain, which I admit I don't entirely understand. Isn't all pain related to nerves firing?
Anyway, I asked Dr. Fourth Opinion The Big Question, namely what is his prognosis, particularly around a possible pregnancy. Am I foolish for considering pregnancy after all of my body's freak-outs? His answer terrified me. He said my prognosis was great, that he expects a full recovery, and a pregnancy would probably not make anything worse. Shit.
Just when I think I've got it all figured out, Dr. F.O. throws a curveball. Part of me really wants to be done with this chapter, as you all know. But on the two days a month that I'm feeling reasonably good, I think about pregnancy. I want it. I wasn't expecting the desire to grow a baby to switch off entirely, at least during my childbearing years, but when a physician tells me that it might be possible....I pretty much ovulate on the spot.
So, that's about it. Dealing with lots of mixed feelings. My big family-building decisions need to be put on hold for now until I really start getting better. I'll continue to research adoption as much as possible, also keeping in mind that the biological route is not out of the question. Grr. Back to in-betweenness where the main thing I have to do is wait. Wait and heal.
Dr. F.O. added a tricyclic antidepressant to my medication cocktail. He said his clinic likes to use tricylics and Cymbalta to treat the types of pain I'm having. I can stay on Prozac, which is very good because withdrawing from it would give me a 3-month hangover.
I will also be seeing a new physical therapist whom Dr. F.O. highly recommends. I was feeling wishy-washy about mine, anyway, so I'll look forward to seeing someone else. I mean, as much as you can look forward to the eleventieth medical appointment you've had since the beginning of the year.
I imagine some people reading this are like, "Just freakin adopt and be done with it." I'm even telling myself to just adopt. I KNOW. I know and also don't know from lack of experience how difficult the adoption process can be, but there is something very attractive about starting a different difficult process. One that doesn't involve my body. And yet, it is so expensive. Depressingly expensive. And difficult. I can't even begin to express all my thoughts about adoption vs TTC right here, right now.
Phew. This felt really good to write. Your comments about my last few posts have been so helpful. Some of you have said that choosing to adopt is not necessarily closing the door on a biological child, and I appreciate that reminder. Starting to research adoption is bringing me so much hope, so many daydreams about nurseries, and I'm so lucky to have your support along the way.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
NURSERY, Newborns, and Annoyances
You can't talk about domestic adoption for long without someone bringing up The Photobook. This is what an adoption agency shows a birthmom when she's choosing an adoptive family, so it needs to be exceptional. I'm totally overwhelmed by it, but a friend in the know emailed me some great tips. Lots of happiness, love, and uniqueness need to be projected or you won't get chosen for many years. No pressure or anything. (Those weren't her exact words...I might be exaggerating.)
Somewhere along the way, amidst tips about showing how awesome you are as a couple, my friend mentioned that it wouldn't hurt to show a photo of the nursery if we have one. The NURSERY. OMG. The email was chock full of serious, helpful advice, and NURSERY is what I can't get out of my head. Must. Decorate. Nursery.
Of course, we haven't even decided for sure that we're doing adoption. We have NO idea what agency we'd use, or how to start a home study. But now is a good time to be thinking about nursery paint colors, right? Because I can decorate. I can paint a wall, hang a picture, and make a bed. Finding the right agency to connect me with my child is a whole other ballgame and slightly terrifying.
In the vein of avoiding huge decisions like choosing an agency, I took a first step in decorating the nursery. I dug a couple of huge teddy bears out of the closet and set them on a rocking chair with a cute baby-appropriate quilt. They're sitting where I can see them as I walk by and I've been noticing my feelings about them. They aren't freaking me out too much in a "wow, you're overconfident that you're going to have a baby" way, so they're staying there for now.
*****
My new baby niece is so precious. We were over at my brother-in-law's house for a total of 5 hours visiting on Sunday, and I held the baby for approximately 4 of those hours. I generously let the mom hold her some, and even let my husband hold her for a tiny bit. I was hoping that my husband's holding her would speed up his manological clock. It's about time he felt some urgency, right?
After I'd gotten my fill of 2-week-old baby adorableness (NOT—give me more babies to hold, STAT), we returned home to news that our neighbors had adopted a newborn baby girl. It was a surprise to us, although not entirely unexpected; we'd speculated for years that they were fellow infertiles.
On Monday night, we inflicted ourselves on the new parents to see the baby and share infertility war stories. Baby was gorgeous and they filled us in on their adoption journey. WOW. I do not know how they persevered because they really went through hell trying to adopt, and that was after several years of infertility.
We've been neighbors with these people for 4 years, had them over for beers numerous times, and didn't realize they going through infertility (beyond our private speculations). It makes me sad. Someone really needs to come up with an infertile handshake that we'd use to identify one another.
So, yeah. Two newborns in 2 days and I've got baby fever BAD.
*****
I am totally seeking validation in my decision to stop TTC. People (not you guys) keep reacting as if I'm making a rash decision based on inadequate data. I get what they're saying to a point, but People, have you not been around the past 4.5 months when I had severe pain every single day? Have you not heard about the five different pain medications I'm taking because none are effective enough on their own? Have you not seen my body morph from fairly athletic to soft and rounded? Have you somehow missed seeing me shuffle around painfully?
I'm irritated because this morning, my PT refused to offer an opinion about my prognosis in terms of pregnancy. She said we wouldn't know anything until I got better from this, just wait and see how it goes, ask your physician, blah blah blah.
Ok, totally not helpful. You are the person probably most intimately aware about my condition, so give me an opinion! Yes or no! Don't tell me I'm a crazy person for thinking that biological kids are out of the question at this point.
Obviously, I'm struggling with being in limbo. I want decisions to be made, action to be taken, and a baby to land in our laps. I'm sick of this waiting crap.
Update (I wrote the PT stuff yesterday): my sister reminded me that my PT doesn't know (or has forgotten) about all the TTC hardships we've experienced, which partly explains her not understanding why we'd stop now. She seems to see my case as being based around my last hysteroscopy, which is only part of the picture.
Most of my stress can probably be attributed to dread about my upcoming doctor's appointment with Dr. Fourth Opinion. If you count the urgent care doctor who tried to troubleshoot with me, this next appointment is the fifth doctor's opinion, but who's counting. Anyway, totally dreading this next appointment. Dreading the unknown; will he give me new information about my condition or just reiterate everything I've already heard, making this a waste of a $40 copay and my morning? Will he agree to take on the pain management aspect of my case? And, most importantly, what does he think carrying a child in my irritable abdomen would do to me?
Maybe I'm most afraid of not getting any answers. I hate limbo. Appointment is Monday.
****
And now, a baby birdie photo. These are house finches who grew up on my front porch. They're huge and I expect most of them to fledge (leave the nest) today. I am not kidding, our yard is an aviary. This year, on our 0.5-acre lot, we've had visible nests of house finches, bluebirds, cardinals, wrens, and mockingbirds. So cool.
Somewhere along the way, amidst tips about showing how awesome you are as a couple, my friend mentioned that it wouldn't hurt to show a photo of the nursery if we have one. The NURSERY. OMG. The email was chock full of serious, helpful advice, and NURSERY is what I can't get out of my head. Must. Decorate. Nursery.
Of course, we haven't even decided for sure that we're doing adoption. We have NO idea what agency we'd use, or how to start a home study. But now is a good time to be thinking about nursery paint colors, right? Because I can decorate. I can paint a wall, hang a picture, and make a bed. Finding the right agency to connect me with my child is a whole other ballgame and slightly terrifying.
In the vein of avoiding huge decisions like choosing an agency, I took a first step in decorating the nursery. I dug a couple of huge teddy bears out of the closet and set them on a rocking chair with a cute baby-appropriate quilt. They're sitting where I can see them as I walk by and I've been noticing my feelings about them. They aren't freaking me out too much in a "wow, you're overconfident that you're going to have a baby" way, so they're staying there for now.
 |
| Will we be part of a nursery? |
*****
My new baby niece is so precious. We were over at my brother-in-law's house for a total of 5 hours visiting on Sunday, and I held the baby for approximately 4 of those hours. I generously let the mom hold her some, and even let my husband hold her for a tiny bit. I was hoping that my husband's holding her would speed up his manological clock. It's about time he felt some urgency, right?
After I'd gotten my fill of 2-week-old baby adorableness (NOT—give me more babies to hold, STAT), we returned home to news that our neighbors had adopted a newborn baby girl. It was a surprise to us, although not entirely unexpected; we'd speculated for years that they were fellow infertiles.
On Monday night, we inflicted ourselves on the new parents to see the baby and share infertility war stories. Baby was gorgeous and they filled us in on their adoption journey. WOW. I do not know how they persevered because they really went through hell trying to adopt, and that was after several years of infertility.
We've been neighbors with these people for 4 years, had them over for beers numerous times, and didn't realize they going through infertility (beyond our private speculations). It makes me sad. Someone really needs to come up with an infertile handshake that we'd use to identify one another.
So, yeah. Two newborns in 2 days and I've got baby fever BAD.
*****
I am totally seeking validation in my decision to stop TTC. People (not you guys) keep reacting as if I'm making a rash decision based on inadequate data. I get what they're saying to a point, but People, have you not been around the past 4.5 months when I had severe pain every single day? Have you not heard about the five different pain medications I'm taking because none are effective enough on their own? Have you not seen my body morph from fairly athletic to soft and rounded? Have you somehow missed seeing me shuffle around painfully?
I'm irritated because this morning, my PT refused to offer an opinion about my prognosis in terms of pregnancy. She said we wouldn't know anything until I got better from this, just wait and see how it goes, ask your physician, blah blah blah.
Ok, totally not helpful. You are the person probably most intimately aware about my condition, so give me an opinion! Yes or no! Don't tell me I'm a crazy person for thinking that biological kids are out of the question at this point.
Obviously, I'm struggling with being in limbo. I want decisions to be made, action to be taken, and a baby to land in our laps. I'm sick of this waiting crap.
Update (I wrote the PT stuff yesterday): my sister reminded me that my PT doesn't know (or has forgotten) about all the TTC hardships we've experienced, which partly explains her not understanding why we'd stop now. She seems to see my case as being based around my last hysteroscopy, which is only part of the picture.
Most of my stress can probably be attributed to dread about my upcoming doctor's appointment with Dr. Fourth Opinion. If you count the urgent care doctor who tried to troubleshoot with me, this next appointment is the fifth doctor's opinion, but who's counting. Anyway, totally dreading this next appointment. Dreading the unknown; will he give me new information about my condition or just reiterate everything I've already heard, making this a waste of a $40 copay and my morning? Will he agree to take on the pain management aspect of my case? And, most importantly, what does he think carrying a child in my irritable abdomen would do to me?
Maybe I'm most afraid of not getting any answers. I hate limbo. Appointment is Monday.
****
And now, a baby birdie photo. These are house finches who grew up on my front porch. They're huge and I expect most of them to fledge (leave the nest) today. I am not kidding, our yard is an aviary. This year, on our 0.5-acre lot, we've had visible nests of house finches, bluebirds, cardinals, wrens, and mockingbirds. So cool.
 |
| They tend to sit with their beaks open when it's really hot. |
Monday, July 9, 2012
Where I'm Supposed to Be
"You are exactly where you're supposed to be."
My Dove chocolate wrapper just told me that. Whoa. After announcing to you guys, some family and friends, and myself that I'm done with trying, I appreciated the reassurance from Dove. :)
So, yeah. Last week was a little crazy. I can't remember what tipped me from "maybe I'll try again" to "no way in hell," and it felt weird putting it all out there. But it also felt like a great release. I've found that all kinds of good stuff happens when you open up. Like finding people to talk about adoption with. After telling my sister, she met an adoptive parent this week who is super pumped about adoption and would love to talk with me about it. Yay!
The person who was probably most surprised about my decision is my husband. Maybe before this week, I hadn't communicated clearly enough that this was coming. That the pain has made me realize I'm really not cut out to grow a child. He's reluctant to accept defeat and wants a doctor's opinion about adding a gestation to my pelvic woes. He also thinks I'm just saying this because I'm miserable right now, and I'll change my mind once my body calms down. It's possible but I doubt it. I'm pretty close with my body, and it's told me in no uncertain terms that it doesn't want a uterine occupant.
Like I said before, it's not all about the 4 months of hellish abdominal pain, either. I kinda wanted to stop trying after my second miscarriage last fall. I don't want to ever go through that hell again. I'm not convinced that my uterus is any more inhabitable than it was when it kicked that baby out. Also, although one miscarriage doesn't increase your odds of another, two miscarriages start making you more likely than the average woman to miscarry. Avoiding pregnancy started sounding very appealing at last fall.
I had some bad moments last week after my announcement, though. Moments where I doubted that we'd ever have a child, that we'd never agree on an agency/birthmother/child. But I think we'll get there.
In general, I feel happier than I've felt in a long time. I keep thinking my body will reward me for the happy hormones I'm allowing it to produce, all the "I'M RELAXED SO YOU'D BETTER RELAX, DAMN IT" vibes coming its way. But the pain is still bad. I played hooky from PT for a while because I felt like it was making the pain worse, but I've started back up again. I'm going into it a little tougher than before, more Jillian Michaels than Rodney Yee (yoga guru). I'm due to call my pain doctor again this week and can't wait to interact with the oh-so-helpful triage nurse again. Fun times.
I feel like I've taken back my body and it feels amazing.
It's also nice to have a goal again. I'm happiest when I have something to work toward, and there's much work to be done on the adoption front. We know that if we chose to adopt, we'd do domestic, but we don't know a lot beyond that. I went to a couple of adoption seminars last year so I'm hip to the lingo, but know we wouldn't use either of those agencies.
Hope you guys had a nice weekend!
My Dove chocolate wrapper just told me that. Whoa. After announcing to you guys, some family and friends, and myself that I'm done with trying, I appreciated the reassurance from Dove. :)
So, yeah. Last week was a little crazy. I can't remember what tipped me from "maybe I'll try again" to "no way in hell," and it felt weird putting it all out there. But it also felt like a great release. I've found that all kinds of good stuff happens when you open up. Like finding people to talk about adoption with. After telling my sister, she met an adoptive parent this week who is super pumped about adoption and would love to talk with me about it. Yay!
The person who was probably most surprised about my decision is my husband. Maybe before this week, I hadn't communicated clearly enough that this was coming. That the pain has made me realize I'm really not cut out to grow a child. He's reluctant to accept defeat and wants a doctor's opinion about adding a gestation to my pelvic woes. He also thinks I'm just saying this because I'm miserable right now, and I'll change my mind once my body calms down. It's possible but I doubt it. I'm pretty close with my body, and it's told me in no uncertain terms that it doesn't want a uterine occupant.
Like I said before, it's not all about the 4 months of hellish abdominal pain, either. I kinda wanted to stop trying after my second miscarriage last fall. I don't want to ever go through that hell again. I'm not convinced that my uterus is any more inhabitable than it was when it kicked that baby out. Also, although one miscarriage doesn't increase your odds of another, two miscarriages start making you more likely than the average woman to miscarry. Avoiding pregnancy started sounding very appealing at last fall.
I had some bad moments last week after my announcement, though. Moments where I doubted that we'd ever have a child, that we'd never agree on an agency/birthmother/child. But I think we'll get there.
In general, I feel happier than I've felt in a long time. I keep thinking my body will reward me for the happy hormones I'm allowing it to produce, all the "I'M RELAXED SO YOU'D BETTER RELAX, DAMN IT" vibes coming its way. But the pain is still bad. I played hooky from PT for a while because I felt like it was making the pain worse, but I've started back up again. I'm going into it a little tougher than before, more Jillian Michaels than Rodney Yee (yoga guru). I'm due to call my pain doctor again this week and can't wait to interact with the oh-so-helpful triage nurse again. Fun times.
I feel like I've taken back my body and it feels amazing.
It's also nice to have a goal again. I'm happiest when I have something to work toward, and there's much work to be done on the adoption front. We know that if we chose to adopt, we'd do domestic, but we don't know a lot beyond that. I went to a couple of adoption seminars last year so I'm hip to the lingo, but know we wouldn't use either of those agencies.
Hope you guys had a nice weekend!
Monday, July 2, 2012
Endings and Beginnings
I've started and deleted this post three or four times because I'm not sure how to say this, but I think I've reached the end of the road with trying to conceive.
Instead of feeling bereaved, I feel light. My husband and I are talking about adoption and I'm excited to see what it holds for us.
Oddly enough, I'm not grieving. I think it's because I've already grieved this loss for a very long time. Most recently, miscarriage #2 felt like our last chance slipping away. After that, my heart really wasn't in TTC, but I thought I'd try for at least one more pregnancy. If I miscarried again, that would be it.
Then the chronic pain started and changed everything. I kept thinking the pain would be gone tomorrow, or after my period ended, or at least by the time of my 3D sonogram. But 4 months later, I don't feel much closer to getting better.
Several month ago, sometime around miscarriage #2, a post by a childfree blogger (forgive me for forgetting whom) resonated with me. She said that at one point, she would have given her right arm for a baby. I found myself nodding my head because that was me. Up until around the time of my second miscarriage, I would have given my right arm for a child. And like that blogger, I wouldn't anymore.
I never imagined myself saying this, but in some ways, the pain has been a gift. It's reminded me to value my health, to cherish my ability to do yoga and take walks. Not knowing when I will get better is terrifying, but once I do, I'll do everything in my power to stay that way.
I never would have predicted that this is what the end of this phase looks like. I always thought it would involve several IUIs, a couple of IVFs, or more miscarriages. But my pain, the little minx, brought an entirely different way to find the end.
I reserve the right to change my mind about all of this, but I'm pretty sure this is it. I can see my husband and me being happy together in a number of situations, and I really see how lucky we are to have each other.
I feel like a different person lately—one who doesn't scowl at pregnant women. Yesterday, we went to the hospital to see my new niece and I was fine. I can't wait to see her again, actually. Who am I? Last year at this time when the niece's older brother was born, I wanted nothing to do with him. I would ask my therapist how to avoid holding him.
I'm sure we have a tough road ahead of us, but I refuse to make it any tougher on my body. I feel empowered knowing that my body will not be my RE's experiment anymore. No more drugs, surgeries, or miscarriages. No more months of mourning my period's arrival. I will be healthy for my child(ren).
Instead of feeling bereaved, I feel light. My husband and I are talking about adoption and I'm excited to see what it holds for us.
Oddly enough, I'm not grieving. I think it's because I've already grieved this loss for a very long time. Most recently, miscarriage #2 felt like our last chance slipping away. After that, my heart really wasn't in TTC, but I thought I'd try for at least one more pregnancy. If I miscarried again, that would be it.
Then the chronic pain started and changed everything. I kept thinking the pain would be gone tomorrow, or after my period ended, or at least by the time of my 3D sonogram. But 4 months later, I don't feel much closer to getting better.
Several month ago, sometime around miscarriage #2, a post by a childfree blogger (forgive me for forgetting whom) resonated with me. She said that at one point, she would have given her right arm for a baby. I found myself nodding my head because that was me. Up until around the time of my second miscarriage, I would have given my right arm for a child. And like that blogger, I wouldn't anymore.
I never imagined myself saying this, but in some ways, the pain has been a gift. It's reminded me to value my health, to cherish my ability to do yoga and take walks. Not knowing when I will get better is terrifying, but once I do, I'll do everything in my power to stay that way.
I never would have predicted that this is what the end of this phase looks like. I always thought it would involve several IUIs, a couple of IVFs, or more miscarriages. But my pain, the little minx, brought an entirely different way to find the end.
I reserve the right to change my mind about all of this, but I'm pretty sure this is it. I can see my husband and me being happy together in a number of situations, and I really see how lucky we are to have each other.
I feel like a different person lately—one who doesn't scowl at pregnant women. Yesterday, we went to the hospital to see my new niece and I was fine. I can't wait to see her again, actually. Who am I? Last year at this time when the niece's older brother was born, I wanted nothing to do with him. I would ask my therapist how to avoid holding him.
I'm sure we have a tough road ahead of us, but I refuse to make it any tougher on my body. I feel empowered knowing that my body will not be my RE's experiment anymore. No more drugs, surgeries, or miscarriages. No more months of mourning my period's arrival. I will be healthy for my child(ren).
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