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Monday, October 17, 2016
#Microblog Mondays: The Quest for Invisibility
Monday, October 03, 2016
#Microblog Mondays: Fear and Trembling
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I keep swinging back and forth between being glad we have a chance to try and being certain that nothing good is going to happen because my only remaining ovary is too broken. I think I've been reading too much on the internet/FB (I know, irony, right?) and seeing people told that Clomid won't help them and maybe they should try egg donation. Papa Bear feels like that would defeat the purpose of having a baby that was the two of us. I want to be pregnant and carry a baby, I think even if it weren't my eggs, but I can't justify that much of an expense for a possibility when we have three kids to provide for both now and in the future. But I still want a second child that is MINE, that calls ME Mommy and Papa Bear Daddy.
I keep swinging back and forth between being glad we have a chance to try and being certain that nothing good is going to happen because my only remaining ovary is too broken. I think I've been reading too much on the internet/FB (I know, irony, right?) and seeing people told that Clomid won't help them and maybe they should try egg donation. Papa Bear feels like that would defeat the purpose of having a baby that was the two of us. I want to be pregnant and carry a baby, I think even if it weren't my eggs, but I can't justify that much of an expense for a possibility when we have three kids to provide for both now and in the future. But I still want a second child that is MINE, that calls ME Mommy and Papa Bear Daddy.
Thursday, September 22, 2016
One Small Step
This is a really weird post to write. I thought about writing it last night, but I didn't have the emotional energy to be able to. I still can't believe I'm here.
I took my first pill of Clomid yesterday. That puts me farther in some ways on the fertility journey than I've ever been before. My ex and I had prepared to do IVF, but one thing after another kept getting in the way right before we could start the first shot. So I have never actually taken a fertility medication before yesterday. I've had a box of medications and syringes on my dining table for months on end before, but until yesterday I had never gotten to take a dose.
I almost didn't get this far. I almost got stopped again right before I was going to be able to TRY something instead of sitting on the sidelines waiting for my turn. My AMH level came back over the weekend and, because the doctor was in surgery on Monday, did not get read until late in the day Tuesday (my day 2, when I was to start Clomid on day 3). The nurse had called me, but I wasn't able to call back before 5 because I was with a client. She left the message that she needed to talk to me. So of course I was panicking all night Tuesday night, and I was right to. Yesterday morning, the nurse called to tell me that my AMH was 0.87. According to the website I had been looking at, "low normal" is 0.7-0.9 and "normal" is 1.0 and above, although it said there was disagreement about where the borders between categories really should be.
Through the nurse, the doctor first said that he was not going to prescribe the Clomid and that I should see an RE. I completely broke down sobbing on the phone with the nurse because I was pretty damn sure that there was no way we could see an RE this calendar year, between leave for Papa Bear (especially with his boss about to go out on paternity leave) and the question of whether appointments would even be covered, even with an endometriosis diagnosis. And all the while that we can't get in, months and cycles are ticking away. We had to wait months to be able to afford the HSG before having a chance to try, months of eggs dropping away unused, and now it was going to be even longer, making my ovarian reserve worse!
I was lucky that the client I was on my way to see canceled, so I went to church to talk to one of the pastors. Just before the pastor prayed over me, my phone rang, but I let it go to voicemail. As I left church, I checked my voicemail, and it was the nurse. She said that she talked to the doctor again and reminded him that we really couldn't go see the RE, and he decided to write the Clomid anyway. He said that he did not think our chances were good, so he would rather we work through the RE for their expertise. But since we can't, he's at least going to let us try. We also have estrogen for days 8-12 and progesterone pills for after day 18.
Papa Bear asked me how I felt after taking the first pill yesterday. I didn't really know what to say. I didn't feel bad, but I was afraid to feel good. The best description we could come up with between us for how I felt was "guarded."
We're trying to get information on what is and is not covered (after our massive deductible, of course) if we can see an RE. The first answers we have on that raise some questions for us, and especially Papa Bear to address. It turns out that IVF is covered at 80% (which a lifetime max benefit of $2000, so it's like they pretend to cover IVF and really don't give a fuck), but IUI is not covered at all. Papa Bear is Catholic. IVF isn't allowed by the Catholic church. Amusingly, IUI is, but only if the sperm is gathered from a condom after sex. That could make getting samples in the little room at the clinic interesting, since even if we can't do IUI, there's still the testing for him that the clinic will want.
So yeah, it's been a weird couple of days.
I took my first pill of Clomid yesterday. That puts me farther in some ways on the fertility journey than I've ever been before. My ex and I had prepared to do IVF, but one thing after another kept getting in the way right before we could start the first shot. So I have never actually taken a fertility medication before yesterday. I've had a box of medications and syringes on my dining table for months on end before, but until yesterday I had never gotten to take a dose.
I almost didn't get this far. I almost got stopped again right before I was going to be able to TRY something instead of sitting on the sidelines waiting for my turn. My AMH level came back over the weekend and, because the doctor was in surgery on Monday, did not get read until late in the day Tuesday (my day 2, when I was to start Clomid on day 3). The nurse had called me, but I wasn't able to call back before 5 because I was with a client. She left the message that she needed to talk to me. So of course I was panicking all night Tuesday night, and I was right to. Yesterday morning, the nurse called to tell me that my AMH was 0.87. According to the website I had been looking at, "low normal" is 0.7-0.9 and "normal" is 1.0 and above, although it said there was disagreement about where the borders between categories really should be.
Through the nurse, the doctor first said that he was not going to prescribe the Clomid and that I should see an RE. I completely broke down sobbing on the phone with the nurse because I was pretty damn sure that there was no way we could see an RE this calendar year, between leave for Papa Bear (especially with his boss about to go out on paternity leave) and the question of whether appointments would even be covered, even with an endometriosis diagnosis. And all the while that we can't get in, months and cycles are ticking away. We had to wait months to be able to afford the HSG before having a chance to try, months of eggs dropping away unused, and now it was going to be even longer, making my ovarian reserve worse!
I was lucky that the client I was on my way to see canceled, so I went to church to talk to one of the pastors. Just before the pastor prayed over me, my phone rang, but I let it go to voicemail. As I left church, I checked my voicemail, and it was the nurse. She said that she talked to the doctor again and reminded him that we really couldn't go see the RE, and he decided to write the Clomid anyway. He said that he did not think our chances were good, so he would rather we work through the RE for their expertise. But since we can't, he's at least going to let us try. We also have estrogen for days 8-12 and progesterone pills for after day 18.
Papa Bear asked me how I felt after taking the first pill yesterday. I didn't really know what to say. I didn't feel bad, but I was afraid to feel good. The best description we could come up with between us for how I felt was "guarded."
We're trying to get information on what is and is not covered (after our massive deductible, of course) if we can see an RE. The first answers we have on that raise some questions for us, and especially Papa Bear to address. It turns out that IVF is covered at 80% (which a lifetime max benefit of $2000, so it's like they pretend to cover IVF and really don't give a fuck), but IUI is not covered at all. Papa Bear is Catholic. IVF isn't allowed by the Catholic church. Amusingly, IUI is, but only if the sperm is gathered from a condom after sex. That could make getting samples in the little room at the clinic interesting, since even if we can't do IUI, there's still the testing for him that the clinic will want.
So yeah, it's been a weird couple of days.
Tuesday, August 30, 2016
Sped-Up Alphabet Soup
Turns out that with my CD1 being on a Thursday and the clinic only doing HSGs on Wednesdays, they want to do it tomorrow instead of next Wednesday. So it has been a mad rush trying to get the right form sent in by my doctor and get the antibiotic called in and picked up and the insurance information in. And now I find out that I have to pay for it tomorrow rather than being able to have a little spare time while they ran it through insurance, since there's still thousands of dollars left on our deductible. I was hoping to be paying it AFTER rent was paid; I just felt more comfortable that way. So much for that.
And now I'm scared. Scared that the pain will be worse than I remember. Scared that it will be bad enough that I won't feel up to orchestra rehearsal that night. Scared of even getting there on time because I had to put in a client appointment at noon when I have to be there at 1:45 and the clinic is an hour away from my office. And scared of what they will find. Scared that my other tube is broken too. Scared that I'm going to need more surgery to "fix" the endometriosis. Scared that even with more surgery my tube won't be salvageable. Just, scared. I found myself crying as I was driving today. I don't remember being scared before my last one, but before that one I was so desperate for answers. Now I have enough answers to know that having more answers may hurt more than it helps.
And now I'm scared. Scared that the pain will be worse than I remember. Scared that it will be bad enough that I won't feel up to orchestra rehearsal that night. Scared of even getting there on time because I had to put in a client appointment at noon when I have to be there at 1:45 and the clinic is an hour away from my office. And scared of what they will find. Scared that my other tube is broken too. Scared that I'm going to need more surgery to "fix" the endometriosis. Scared that even with more surgery my tube won't be salvageable. Just, scared. I found myself crying as I was driving today. I don't remember being scared before my last one, but before that one I was so desperate for answers. Now I have enough answers to know that having more answers may hurt more than it helps.
Thursday, August 25, 2016
Alphabet Soup
Today is essentially day 1, since it started late in the evening yesterday. Last night was pretty miserable. I kinda just sat there like a lump after the kids were in bed with random tears rolling down my face at random times. And today I had a random weird cramp that I've never had before, where the pain radiated down to my big toe.
But the one good thing about day 1 is that it meant I could call GRS (the big local fertility clinic) to schedule my HSG. I got voice mail on the scheduling line and they never called back, so I need to call again tomorrow, but at least we're in the cycle where I can get it done. It looks like it will be on September 7, since that clinic only does them on Wednesdays.
One thing that I'm scared of now, though, is the possibility of the dye flinging endometrial cells around my abdomen in the process of finding out whether my remaining tube is plugged. I have no idea whether that's a reasonable fear or not.
But the one good thing about day 1 is that it meant I could call GRS (the big local fertility clinic) to schedule my HSG. I got voice mail on the scheduling line and they never called back, so I need to call again tomorrow, but at least we're in the cycle where I can get it done. It looks like it will be on September 7, since that clinic only does them on Wednesdays.
One thing that I'm scared of now, though, is the possibility of the dye flinging endometrial cells around my abdomen in the process of finding out whether my remaining tube is plugged. I have no idea whether that's a reasonable fear or not.
Monday, August 08, 2016
#MicroblogMondays: Christmas
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Don't worry, I haven't seen decorations in the stores yet!!! My husband and I are watching an episode of Cake Wars so old that it's Christmas-themed, and all the commercials are Christmassy as well. Last year, Papa Bear and I basically went through the minimal motions on Christmas for the kids and punted the rest of the effort to my parents, since we went there for the day. The baby we lost had been due right at the beginning of January, and so we had been expecting to spend Christmas getting ready for a birth. We also had the tree fall twice and break a lot of my deceased mom's ornaments on the first year we had them to put on the tree. So we were just DONE with Christmas. I was afraid that Christmas would be forever ruined, which would really suck because of how much I loved Christmas before. But seeing the commercials tonight, I'm actually kinda excited about Christmas for this year. I don't know how I'll feel when we get closer to it, but for now, it's a good sign.
Don't worry, I haven't seen decorations in the stores yet!!! My husband and I are watching an episode of Cake Wars so old that it's Christmas-themed, and all the commercials are Christmassy as well. Last year, Papa Bear and I basically went through the minimal motions on Christmas for the kids and punted the rest of the effort to my parents, since we went there for the day. The baby we lost had been due right at the beginning of January, and so we had been expecting to spend Christmas getting ready for a birth. We also had the tree fall twice and break a lot of my deceased mom's ornaments on the first year we had them to put on the tree. So we were just DONE with Christmas. I was afraid that Christmas would be forever ruined, which would really suck because of how much I loved Christmas before. But seeing the commercials tonight, I'm actually kinda excited about Christmas for this year. I don't know how I'll feel when we get closer to it, but for now, it's a good sign.
Monday, August 01, 2016
#MicroblogMondays: Wading Into New Waters
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I've been seeing an ad on my Facebook for MyEndometriosisTeam, a social network for women with endo. I've been thinking about joining and just not having the time, but from when I first saw it until my computer had to restart, the tab was open in Chrome waiting for me. Tonight, I clicked to join, and now my anxiety is in full swing. I'm sitting here typing and playing a silly Facebook game and not saying anything out loud to my family while my skin feels too tight for my body and my muscles are rigid. I don't know why I'm reacting this strongly. Maybe it's my social anxiety and the fear of putting myself out there to meet new people and people not being interested in connecting with me. Here, most of my connections are people I've known for years on here, even if I was gone for a long time. And here feels safe. It could also be fear of what I'll find out, or of not learning and gaining anything useful. I don't know. But here goes, I guess.
I've been seeing an ad on my Facebook for MyEndometriosisTeam, a social network for women with endo. I've been thinking about joining and just not having the time, but from when I first saw it until my computer had to restart, the tab was open in Chrome waiting for me. Tonight, I clicked to join, and now my anxiety is in full swing. I'm sitting here typing and playing a silly Facebook game and not saying anything out loud to my family while my skin feels too tight for my body and my muscles are rigid. I don't know why I'm reacting this strongly. Maybe it's my social anxiety and the fear of putting myself out there to meet new people and people not being interested in connecting with me. Here, most of my connections are people I've known for years on here, even if I was gone for a long time. And here feels safe. It could also be fear of what I'll find out, or of not learning and gaining anything useful. I don't know. But here goes, I guess.
Monday, July 18, 2016
#MicroblogMondays: Vacation Hangover
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We made it back. Left Delaware at 9:45 Saturday morning and went to Baltimore for the Scout shop and a crab house before heading to North Carolina. Got to hotel in High Point at 2 AM, thanks to the hell that is I-95 between DC and Richmond. I should've gone with my instincts and taken 301. Made it home at 10:45 last night after dropping the oldest at Scout camp in NC and getting semi-lost in the Pisgah National Forest. Happy to have gotten crabs and happy to have found a random swimming hole in the middle of the forest.
We made it back. Left Delaware at 9:45 Saturday morning and went to Baltimore for the Scout shop and a crab house before heading to North Carolina. Got to hotel in High Point at 2 AM, thanks to the hell that is I-95 between DC and Richmond. I should've gone with my instincts and taken 301. Made it home at 10:45 last night after dropping the oldest at Scout camp in NC and getting semi-lost in the Pisgah National Forest. Happy to have gotten crabs and happy to have found a random swimming hole in the middle of the forest.
Monday, July 11, 2016
#Microblog Mondays: At The Beach
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At the beach with my stepfamily, the best week of every year! The water was warm today (considering that it's Delaware) and Papa Bear got one of the kids over a massive fear of the ocean. I'm also loving seeing my son getting to meet and play with two other cousins his age. He sure looks like them, for someone who shares no genes! The only hard part has been the knowledge that my second baby should have been here being passed around and trying to catch up with the youngest cousin, who is crawling.
The other baby in the top picture has the same first name as my son and is one month older. The one in the bottom pic is 5 months younger. My aunt got my son and the other one in the bottom pic mixed up last night!
At the beach with my stepfamily, the best week of every year! The water was warm today (considering that it's Delaware) and Papa Bear got one of the kids over a massive fear of the ocean. I'm also loving seeing my son getting to meet and play with two other cousins his age. He sure looks like them, for someone who shares no genes! The only hard part has been the knowledge that my second baby should have been here being passed around and trying to catch up with the youngest cousin, who is crawling.
The other baby in the top picture has the same first name as my son and is one month older. The one in the bottom pic is 5 months younger. My aunt got my son and the other one in the bottom pic mixed up last night!
Thursday, July 07, 2016
Answers and Questions
Well, I don't have fibroids, at least. I hadn't been sure how to feel at first, because at least it would have been an answer, but Papa Bear had pointed out the possible complications from fibroids and I felt better about not having them. That still leaves no real answers about the extent of my current...experience, though, because it's symptoms beyond what is expected with endo. Best guess is hormone changes, but apparently there's not really much of any research on hormones in people who lose an ovary.
The answer about the fibroids was mostly washed away by the whole nightmare experience of the ultrasound, though. The last time I was lying on that table, I was being told that my baby no longer had a heartbeat. To make it worse, it was the same tech, and she didn't remember that fact until Papa Bear reminded her. She didn't even see in my chart about what happened last year, so she was asking me about why I didn't have a right ovary. At least the doctor said they have 2 ultrasound techs at this point, so if I get that far, I can ask for the other one.
Since I don't have fibroids, getting that far now looks to rest on Clomid. The doctor still wants me to get an HSG to make sure my remaining tube is clear, and it looks like we'll be doing that in September. Provided it's clear (or gets clear from the dye going through), we'll start Clomid after that. One thing we're not sure of is how much of a real LH surge I'm having to even trigger ovulation, since last month I had the line on the OPK get darker than it had been but not darker than the control line. But the doctor said if that's what's wrong, Clomid will help.
He did also say that Clomid tends to make people feel cranky and have less energy. For those who have tried it, what has your experience been?
The answer about the fibroids was mostly washed away by the whole nightmare experience of the ultrasound, though. The last time I was lying on that table, I was being told that my baby no longer had a heartbeat. To make it worse, it was the same tech, and she didn't remember that fact until Papa Bear reminded her. She didn't even see in my chart about what happened last year, so she was asking me about why I didn't have a right ovary. At least the doctor said they have 2 ultrasound techs at this point, so if I get that far, I can ask for the other one.
Since I don't have fibroids, getting that far now looks to rest on Clomid. The doctor still wants me to get an HSG to make sure my remaining tube is clear, and it looks like we'll be doing that in September. Provided it's clear (or gets clear from the dye going through), we'll start Clomid after that. One thing we're not sure of is how much of a real LH surge I'm having to even trigger ovulation, since last month I had the line on the OPK get darker than it had been but not darker than the control line. But the doctor said if that's what's wrong, Clomid will help.
He did also say that Clomid tends to make people feel cranky and have less energy. For those who have tried it, what has your experience been?
Wednesday, July 06, 2016
Now What?
I was stupid. I thought maybe I was having symptoms of implantation. I should have known better. Instead, today I got CD1, a good 5 days early. I guess the one thing I can do right is not have it interfere with being at the beach next week?
The complicating factor aside from hating myself for letting myself hope is that tomorrow is my ultrasound to see if there are any fibroids causing problems. Supposedly the ultrasound can be done at any time during the cycle, but when I called the office today, they said that it would be better if it wasn't a heavy flow. She also said that if I had to reschedule, it would be several weeks before there would be another opening (because of the need for the doctor and the ultrasound tech to be there on the same day). Hopefully it will be light enough by then? I want to get some damned answers finally!!!
Monday, June 27, 2016
#MicroblogMondays: HSG Expenses
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Today, I called around to find out how much we need to budget for an HSG. The good news is that because we have a diagnosis that can be tested and treated by an HSG, it is covered by insurance; the bad news is that we have a high enough deductible that we still have to pay for it out of pocket. I first called the hospital system that was close to me and got a quote of $900 (though they later called back and said it was actually $1200). I was starting to panic, thinking we would have to wait till next year, when I got a call back from the main fertility clinic on this side of town, which does them in house. Self-pay cost of $621 and cost for my insurance plan of about $350. MUCH BETTER!!!!! I told Papa Bear, and he told me that he had been looking at forums about costs but hadn't told me because he was seeing multiple posts about costs over $3000. I'm glad he didn't tell me that until I had an actual answer, but I'm also very glad to be married to someone who wants this enough for himself as well as for me that he goes on infertility forums to do his own research. (Heck, it still amazes me that he figured out I probably had endometriosis multiple years before doctors took the concern seriously or diagnosed me)
Today, I called around to find out how much we need to budget for an HSG. The good news is that because we have a diagnosis that can be tested and treated by an HSG, it is covered by insurance; the bad news is that we have a high enough deductible that we still have to pay for it out of pocket. I first called the hospital system that was close to me and got a quote of $900 (though they later called back and said it was actually $1200). I was starting to panic, thinking we would have to wait till next year, when I got a call back from the main fertility clinic on this side of town, which does them in house. Self-pay cost of $621 and cost for my insurance plan of about $350. MUCH BETTER!!!!! I told Papa Bear, and he told me that he had been looking at forums about costs but hadn't told me because he was seeing multiple posts about costs over $3000. I'm glad he didn't tell me that until I had an actual answer, but I'm also very glad to be married to someone who wants this enough for himself as well as for me that he goes on infertility forums to do his own research. (Heck, it still amazes me that he figured out I probably had endometriosis multiple years before doctors took the concern seriously or diagnosed me)
Saturday, June 18, 2016
Friday, June 17, 2016
Triggered
This post basically is one big trigger warning, so do with that as you will.
Wednesday was a weird day because it was the anniversary of the surgery and it was the last day of me seeing clients at one agency, so I was saying goodbye to them. I mostly spent the day running around like a headless chicken trying to get everything done. On the way home after my last client, though, I started falling apart in the car.
I texted one of my cousins who has also experienced loss, and that helped. I was physically feeling like crap, but I also had a meeting that evening that I needed to drag myself to, and that was another distraction. When I got home from the meeting, though, I was still feeling awful and I lay down with a book. I love fantasy, and I love being able to escape into another world. My husband suggested going to bed after all the kids did, but I wanted to read for a few more minutes.
Then I picked up my phone and flipped through Facebook. Big mistake. Wednesday was the day that alligator took that little boy in Orlando. That little boy that's the same age as my son. There's a post going around by Melissa Fenton or something like that that one of my friends had posted. DON'T READ IT!!! Not unless you can handle your heart breaking into a million pieces.
When it was talking about cases from the past, it was okay. When it started talking about the boy in Orlando, in graphic detail of that family's experience of the loss, that's when it got to be too much to take. I started shaking and crying. I wanted to blog about it, but I couldn't. I was up for another hour because I couldn't face the thought of going to bed and I needed to escape into another world again. I'm tearing up again now just writing this.
I'm sure part of it was the timing and the day I read it, but it would have still ripped me apart at any time because the baby was the age my son is and that'll be the case any day of the year. Any time I look at Facebook on my phone or the computer, I'm actually scared and tentative now, looking to make sure that I'm not seeing the beginning of that article again, clicking away fast if I do.
I don't feel like everyone needs to be protected from everything that could possibly be thought provoking or challenge their beliefs or anything like that. And I'm not saying that it was the author's responsibility or the reposters' responsibility to put a trigger warning in place. But for me, I needed one, so this is that warning for others.
Wednesday was a weird day because it was the anniversary of the surgery and it was the last day of me seeing clients at one agency, so I was saying goodbye to them. I mostly spent the day running around like a headless chicken trying to get everything done. On the way home after my last client, though, I started falling apart in the car.
I texted one of my cousins who has also experienced loss, and that helped. I was physically feeling like crap, but I also had a meeting that evening that I needed to drag myself to, and that was another distraction. When I got home from the meeting, though, I was still feeling awful and I lay down with a book. I love fantasy, and I love being able to escape into another world. My husband suggested going to bed after all the kids did, but I wanted to read for a few more minutes.
Then I picked up my phone and flipped through Facebook. Big mistake. Wednesday was the day that alligator took that little boy in Orlando. That little boy that's the same age as my son. There's a post going around by Melissa Fenton or something like that that one of my friends had posted. DON'T READ IT!!! Not unless you can handle your heart breaking into a million pieces.
When it was talking about cases from the past, it was okay. When it started talking about the boy in Orlando, in graphic detail of that family's experience of the loss, that's when it got to be too much to take. I started shaking and crying. I wanted to blog about it, but I couldn't. I was up for another hour because I couldn't face the thought of going to bed and I needed to escape into another world again. I'm tearing up again now just writing this.
I'm sure part of it was the timing and the day I read it, but it would have still ripped me apart at any time because the baby was the age my son is and that'll be the case any day of the year. Any time I look at Facebook on my phone or the computer, I'm actually scared and tentative now, looking to make sure that I'm not seeing the beginning of that article again, clicking away fast if I do.
I don't feel like everyone needs to be protected from everything that could possibly be thought provoking or challenge their beliefs or anything like that. And I'm not saying that it was the author's responsibility or the reposters' responsibility to put a trigger warning in place. But for me, I needed one, so this is that warning for others.
Monday, June 13, 2016
#MicroblogMondays: Surviving
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I don't really know what to say. This is a bad week. I hadn't been blogging for a while both because of being crazy busy and because I didn't really know what to say because of how much I was dreading this week. This past Friday was the anniversary of when I found out that Otter was gone. This Wednesday is the anniversary of the surgery when so much changed. Friday sucked hard. I was really glad to have an excuse not to be seeing clients that day, and during the day was okay, but the evening brought up all my feelings of hopelessness and rejection.
Talking about it later with a friend of mine helped, as she pointed out that with having my son's birthday party on Friday, it became a dual celebration between celebrating his life and the fact that I lived through the surgery.
I'm still scared about Wednesday. It's a major transition point for me career-wise as well, as I stop seeing one set of clients and say goodbye to the last of them. Then I have a meeting along with the older kids that night and we go shopping for Father's Day presents. I hope that will be enough to shut my heart down until after the kids are in bed that night, but I'm so scared that it won't be.
I don't really know what to say. This is a bad week. I hadn't been blogging for a while both because of being crazy busy and because I didn't really know what to say because of how much I was dreading this week. This past Friday was the anniversary of when I found out that Otter was gone. This Wednesday is the anniversary of the surgery when so much changed. Friday sucked hard. I was really glad to have an excuse not to be seeing clients that day, and during the day was okay, but the evening brought up all my feelings of hopelessness and rejection.
Talking about it later with a friend of mine helped, as she pointed out that with having my son's birthday party on Friday, it became a dual celebration between celebrating his life and the fact that I lived through the surgery.
I'm still scared about Wednesday. It's a major transition point for me career-wise as well, as I stop seeing one set of clients and say goodbye to the last of them. Then I have a meeting along with the older kids that night and we go shopping for Father's Day presents. I hope that will be enough to shut my heart down until after the kids are in bed that night, but I'm so scared that it won't be.
Thursday, May 19, 2016
Healing
I'm finally reaching the point where it doesn't hurt to see babies or pregnant women. And I'm still not upset about not being pregnant this month. I don't know how I'm going to manage next month with the anniversaries, but right now, I think I'm finally healing, and it feels good.
Friday, May 13, 2016
Progress
I am proud of myself. I got my BFN for the month on Wednesday, and instead of feeling hopeless and despondent, my only reaction was irritation that it hadn't waited until after the Girl Scout sleepover this weekend because of the inconvenience.
Monday, May 09, 2016
#MicroblogMondays: Mother's Day in Multiple Ways
Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is?Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.
On Thursday night, I celebrated Mother's Day for the first time as a stepmother, though it's the third May since I became a stepmother. Papa Bear gave the kids the option of whether they wanted to buy me something while they were buying their mom gifts, and they each chose to get a gift for me, along with a card that made me tear up.
On Sunday, I spent most of the day helping other people's kids along with my toddler, working at a quizbowl tournament. Papa Bear got my friends in on helping distract me while he had the baby "sign" the card in crayon, and he picked out a present that I needed but wouldn't have thought of buying for myself. I don't care much about brands of purses or anything like that, but I love POCKETS in my purses because I have trouble staying organized, and he got me one with lots of pockets.
What did the most to make me cry, though, was the text my Dad sent, "Happy Mother's Day x4." My son, both stepkids, and my lost Otter.
On Thursday night, I celebrated Mother's Day for the first time as a stepmother, though it's the third May since I became a stepmother. Papa Bear gave the kids the option of whether they wanted to buy me something while they were buying their mom gifts, and they each chose to get a gift for me, along with a card that made me tear up.
On Sunday, I spent most of the day helping other people's kids along with my toddler, working at a quizbowl tournament. Papa Bear got my friends in on helping distract me while he had the baby "sign" the card in crayon, and he picked out a present that I needed but wouldn't have thought of buying for myself. I don't care much about brands of purses or anything like that, but I love POCKETS in my purses because I have trouble staying organized, and he got me one with lots of pockets.
What did the most to make me cry, though, was the text my Dad sent, "Happy Mother's Day x4." My son, both stepkids, and my lost Otter.
Thursday, May 05, 2016
Deep Breath
I just cut the last safety line career-wise. I gave notice at the agency that I had been contracting with one day a week. It's just me and the private practice now, or will be within the next couple of months (I gave long notice to be fair to them and my clients).
I know it's the right thing to do, because I make half as much per hour to drive twice as far, and there's a lot I need to do with building the practice that I don't have time to do while I'm working there. So working there had been holding me back. But it was also a feeling of security, a constant flow (even if not steady in attendance) of clients, and so I have anxiety about taking this step.
I know it's the right thing to do, because I make half as much per hour to drive twice as far, and there's a lot I need to do with building the practice that I don't have time to do while I'm working there. So working there had been holding me back. But it was also a feeling of security, a constant flow (even if not steady in attendance) of clients, and so I have anxiety about taking this step.
Sunday, May 01, 2016
National Infertility Awareness Week: #StartAsking about Endometriosis
This year, for National Infertility Awareness Week, I would like for people to #StartAsking about endometriosis. I don't mean asking in a casual way, mentioning to your doctor, "Gee, I wonder if I could have this." I did that, and it almost killed me because I did not push the issue and get an answer until I was bleeding out on an operating table.
Looking back, it appears that I had symptoms of endometriosis from the beginning of my reproductive life. In high school, I took Advil by the handful for 10+ days a month because it was the only way I could get through the school day and function. I saw a doctor my senior year and she gave me a low dose Pill, but the word endometriosis was never mentioned. My freshman year of college the symptoms got far worse, and I was put on the highest dose Pill that's still made, along with iron pills for the amount of blood I had lost, but still the word endometriosis was never mentioned. At that point I hadn't heard of endometriosis, but I expected that my doctors would tell me if they suspected something was wrong. My mom had been on the same strong Pill for most of her life, and so I just figured I was like her.
When I was married the first time and we weren't successful with trying to conceive, we went through test after test, but nothing was ever found, so we had the fun diagnosis of "unexplained infertility." We looked at hormone levels and whether I could have a blocked tube, but never at endometriosis. At that point, I obviously wasn't using the Pill to control the pain anymore, but I had a doctor who prescribed a strong NSAID to help. He never mentioned endometriosis as a possibility even with that, simply helped me manage the pain.
When I started dating my current husband, he wondered whether the infertility could be the result of endometriosis, given my history, but then we conceived my son and the question was put aside until I had a cycle again. I finally asked the doctor that I saw for follow ups after my son was born, and she just said that the answer to that question probably didn't matter and wasn't worth pursing because pregnancy tends to improve endometriosis and because it couldn't be answered without laproscopic surgery. I just kept getting and taking the same strong NSAID that the doctor back in Maryland had given me, now prescribed by my Georgia doctors.
And that's where we left it until I learned that I had miscarried my second pregnancy and needed a D&C. The ultrasound had looked abnormal, but they thought it was a different kind of abnormal, a molar pregnancy with a bicornate uterus. What I actually had was an ectopic pregnancy, implanted on my ovary because my tube was too blocked by endometriosis for the egg to get through, even with how small an egg is. The doctors did not learn this until I was bleeding out because they had perforated my uterus in getting to where the baby actually was.
Obviously, I survived, and I still may be able to conceive in the future. Maybe. But the question that haunts me is, what if the endometriosis had been diagnosed earlier? What if I had pushed the question? What if my doctors had raised it, any of the doctors that I had seen over the years?
So please, #StartAsking about endometriosis. Women, #StartAsking your doctors, and start pushing the question if you are blown off. Doctors, #StartAsking if a patient exhibits symptoms. Your patients may or may not choose to have the surgery to find out, but they may not know they have a decision to make unless you raise the question.
Looking back, it appears that I had symptoms of endometriosis from the beginning of my reproductive life. In high school, I took Advil by the handful for 10+ days a month because it was the only way I could get through the school day and function. I saw a doctor my senior year and she gave me a low dose Pill, but the word endometriosis was never mentioned. My freshman year of college the symptoms got far worse, and I was put on the highest dose Pill that's still made, along with iron pills for the amount of blood I had lost, but still the word endometriosis was never mentioned. At that point I hadn't heard of endometriosis, but I expected that my doctors would tell me if they suspected something was wrong. My mom had been on the same strong Pill for most of her life, and so I just figured I was like her.
When I was married the first time and we weren't successful with trying to conceive, we went through test after test, but nothing was ever found, so we had the fun diagnosis of "unexplained infertility." We looked at hormone levels and whether I could have a blocked tube, but never at endometriosis. At that point, I obviously wasn't using the Pill to control the pain anymore, but I had a doctor who prescribed a strong NSAID to help. He never mentioned endometriosis as a possibility even with that, simply helped me manage the pain.
When I started dating my current husband, he wondered whether the infertility could be the result of endometriosis, given my history, but then we conceived my son and the question was put aside until I had a cycle again. I finally asked the doctor that I saw for follow ups after my son was born, and she just said that the answer to that question probably didn't matter and wasn't worth pursing because pregnancy tends to improve endometriosis and because it couldn't be answered without laproscopic surgery. I just kept getting and taking the same strong NSAID that the doctor back in Maryland had given me, now prescribed by my Georgia doctors.
And that's where we left it until I learned that I had miscarried my second pregnancy and needed a D&C. The ultrasound had looked abnormal, but they thought it was a different kind of abnormal, a molar pregnancy with a bicornate uterus. What I actually had was an ectopic pregnancy, implanted on my ovary because my tube was too blocked by endometriosis for the egg to get through, even with how small an egg is. The doctors did not learn this until I was bleeding out because they had perforated my uterus in getting to where the baby actually was.
Obviously, I survived, and I still may be able to conceive in the future. Maybe. But the question that haunts me is, what if the endometriosis had been diagnosed earlier? What if I had pushed the question? What if my doctors had raised it, any of the doctors that I had seen over the years?
So please, #StartAsking about endometriosis. Women, #StartAsking your doctors, and start pushing the question if you are blown off. Doctors, #StartAsking if a patient exhibits symptoms. Your patients may or may not choose to have the surgery to find out, but they may not know they have a decision to make unless you raise the question.
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