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.
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
So Now What?
I had my doctor's appointment today. It was SO hard being there while not being pregnant, especially since it was the first time since the follow up appointments after the surgery. I was crying in the waiting room, although I was able to distract myself with my book and my silly Game of Thrones FB game.
It was better once my doctor came in. He greeted me with a hug and immediately understood how hard it was for me to be there. He said he had been rereading his notes from my case last year and that the hair on the back of his neck had risen again at how close a call it had been. One thing that I have appreciated with him has been that he has been very human through this. It would have been harder if he had been more of the "I'm always right, even when I'm not" type of doctor.
I told my doctor what has been going on, what symptoms I have been having that make me think the endo is back. He confirmed that there was endo tissue that he hadn't gotten on the left because there hadn't been time while keeping me alive. However, he also said that the symptoms I've been having may be more consistent with polyps than with endo. He did say the pattern I have been having with my cycle falls into the realm of "normal" but could also make sense with the endo still being a problem. I did forget to ask what stage the endo had been, so I'm going to call the nurse tomorrow and ask.
The key thing that he said, though, is that now that I have been diagnosed with endo, I can get things covered by insurance because it's testing and treating the adhesions from the endo, a diagnosed medical condition, rather than treating "unexplained infertility." The first things he wants to check are the possibilities of polyps, a luteal phase defect, or another blocked tube. He wants to do a kind of ultrasound to look for polyps, and he wants to do an HSG to see if adhesions are blocking my remaining tube. I'll be calling around for prices on the HSG since that isn't in his office and even though insurance would cover it, I still have to be price-conscious because of having a deductible. To check out the possibility of luteal phase defect, he wants me to start doing OPKs again so that he can then test my progesterone level a week after ovulation. I wonder if I should start doing BBT again to go with it.
Depending on what we find out, we may be looking at anything from oral progesterone to Clomid to IUI. Whether it falls into what insurance will cover or not, I can do anything short of IVF with him instead of with a fertility clinic. I feel good about that, at least. I know that, after what happened last year, he will pull and work anything he can to help us. He thanked me for coming back to him after what happened, but it's what felt the most right, both because of how committed he is to us and because of the midwives there, who kept my son from being a c-section.
We will see what happens, but it's nice to be able to do something other than wonder and then despair every month.
It was better once my doctor came in. He greeted me with a hug and immediately understood how hard it was for me to be there. He said he had been rereading his notes from my case last year and that the hair on the back of his neck had risen again at how close a call it had been. One thing that I have appreciated with him has been that he has been very human through this. It would have been harder if he had been more of the "I'm always right, even when I'm not" type of doctor.
I told my doctor what has been going on, what symptoms I have been having that make me think the endo is back. He confirmed that there was endo tissue that he hadn't gotten on the left because there hadn't been time while keeping me alive. However, he also said that the symptoms I've been having may be more consistent with polyps than with endo. He did say the pattern I have been having with my cycle falls into the realm of "normal" but could also make sense with the endo still being a problem. I did forget to ask what stage the endo had been, so I'm going to call the nurse tomorrow and ask.
The key thing that he said, though, is that now that I have been diagnosed with endo, I can get things covered by insurance because it's testing and treating the adhesions from the endo, a diagnosed medical condition, rather than treating "unexplained infertility." The first things he wants to check are the possibilities of polyps, a luteal phase defect, or another blocked tube. He wants to do a kind of ultrasound to look for polyps, and he wants to do an HSG to see if adhesions are blocking my remaining tube. I'll be calling around for prices on the HSG since that isn't in his office and even though insurance would cover it, I still have to be price-conscious because of having a deductible. To check out the possibility of luteal phase defect, he wants me to start doing OPKs again so that he can then test my progesterone level a week after ovulation. I wonder if I should start doing BBT again to go with it.
Depending on what we find out, we may be looking at anything from oral progesterone to Clomid to IUI. Whether it falls into what insurance will cover or not, I can do anything short of IVF with him instead of with a fertility clinic. I feel good about that, at least. I know that, after what happened last year, he will pull and work anything he can to help us. He thanked me for coming back to him after what happened, but it's what felt the most right, both because of how committed he is to us and because of the midwives there, who kept my son from being a c-section.
We will see what happens, but it's nice to be able to do something other than wonder and then despair every month.
Monday, April 25, 2016
Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the News
Tomorrow morning I go back to the doctor who had done my D&C and, in the process, found my endo. It's time for my yearly fun appointment, with all the fun since my mom died of a gynecologic cancer. I need to talk to him about it seeming like the endo is back and discuss what we should do about it. And then I most likely get to consider the finances and whether to pay for more surgery if it's recommended or whether to keep masking it with NSAIDs. Fun timing, especially since this Sunday will be a year since we found out I was pregnant with Otter.
#MicroblogMondays: What's in a Name?
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My son's first word, at almost 6 months old, was "Mama." He didn't say it again for a while, and then it was all "Dada, dada, dada" for another while before "Mama" came back into play, but anytime he did refer to me as anything, it was "Mama" and then "Mommy." Over the past month or two, though, he's started calling me "Jessie." I try to teach him to say and sign "Mommy," and sometimes it works, but other times I spend what feels like forever repeating "Mommy" while he responds with "Jessie." As a stepparent, I would never ask the older kids to refer to me by a name they don't feel comfortable with, and I would never try to supplant their mother. At the same time, this side effect of that really hurts. I worked so hard and went through so much to be able to actually be Mommy to someone, and even while I know how and why it's happening, it still feels like that is being diluted.
(I am really glad that my husband understands how I feel and why and does what he can to reinforce "Mommy" with my son)
My son's first word, at almost 6 months old, was "Mama." He didn't say it again for a while, and then it was all "Dada, dada, dada" for another while before "Mama" came back into play, but anytime he did refer to me as anything, it was "Mama" and then "Mommy." Over the past month or two, though, he's started calling me "Jessie." I try to teach him to say and sign "Mommy," and sometimes it works, but other times I spend what feels like forever repeating "Mommy" while he responds with "Jessie." As a stepparent, I would never ask the older kids to refer to me by a name they don't feel comfortable with, and I would never try to supplant their mother. At the same time, this side effect of that really hurts. I worked so hard and went through so much to be able to actually be Mommy to someone, and even while I know how and why it's happening, it still feels like that is being diluted.
(I am really glad that my husband understands how I feel and why and does what he can to reinforce "Mommy" with my son)
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Don't Step on a Crack...
The 23-month-old is in the phase where he wants to be held ALL. THE. TIME. (except when he wants to run in the street, of course) Which sounds cute and adorable (while still mildly frustrating) right up until this weekend, when Papa Bear and I have both thrown out our backs in the past week lifting and carrying him. Papa Bear threw his out on Tuesday when carrying the toddler reactivated an injury from a month ago, and I threw mine out for the first time ever yesterday when I took the toddler with me to WalMart to get an oil change so Papa Bear could take some medicine and rest his back.
It seemed like a great idea at the time, getting something I needed to done and helping Papa Bear get better. And then an hour into the 3 1/2 hour wait (the last two hours of which went across all of his normal naptime), I threw my back out from the combination of the toddler wanting to be carried and wanting to throw everything out of the cart. And then the last 45 minutes or so he was squirming on my lap screaming in the waiting area. I had figured it would be ok because he can start his nap an hour late without problems, and I thought I'd be out of there in the two hours before it got to that point. But then not only was he past that window, I couldn't hold him to shush him down to sleep in my arms because I was on the verge of crying (and sometimes past that verge) from the pain in my back. And I couldn't call Papa Bear because he had taken his medicine like he was supposed to, and so he was very deeply asleep.
And of course this has to happen when I've got a lot of clients scheduled every day. I'm thrilled to have so many clients, but it doesn't give me any opportunity to rest my back in between people or take medicine that will make me sleepy.
The best laid plans, I swear.
It seemed like a great idea at the time, getting something I needed to done and helping Papa Bear get better. And then an hour into the 3 1/2 hour wait (the last two hours of which went across all of his normal naptime), I threw my back out from the combination of the toddler wanting to be carried and wanting to throw everything out of the cart. And then the last 45 minutes or so he was squirming on my lap screaming in the waiting area. I had figured it would be ok because he can start his nap an hour late without problems, and I thought I'd be out of there in the two hours before it got to that point. But then not only was he past that window, I couldn't hold him to shush him down to sleep in my arms because I was on the verge of crying (and sometimes past that verge) from the pain in my back. And I couldn't call Papa Bear because he had taken his medicine like he was supposed to, and so he was very deeply asleep.
And of course this has to happen when I've got a lot of clients scheduled every day. I'm thrilled to have so many clients, but it doesn't give me any opportunity to rest my back in between people or take medicine that will make me sleepy.
The best laid plans, I swear.
Monday, April 18, 2016
#MicroblogMondays: Hope Doesn't Float
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Hope is a cinder block. If there is mortar and the plans are good and the ground is even and the foundation is strong, you can really build something. If you don't have those things, hope becomes nothing more than the weight tied around your ankles, pulling you down as you try to swim and then as you try to just tread water.
Monday, April 04, 2016
#MicroblogMondays: Pools and Pools
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I started the day in a swimming pool in Ft. Myers, FL, enjoying swimming with Patrick and soaking in the hot tub. I'm finishing the day in my uncle and aunt's home in Sarasota, waiting to see what will happen to my husband's basketball pools. Villanova and UNC are tied, and the result determines whether he takes first or second in each of two pools worth several hundred dollars. And Nova's buzzer-beater costs us around $400. One the one hand, bite me Nova. On the other hand, second is still worth some much-appreciated money. And that was one hell of a game.
I started the day in a swimming pool in Ft. Myers, FL, enjoying swimming with Patrick and soaking in the hot tub. I'm finishing the day in my uncle and aunt's home in Sarasota, waiting to see what will happen to my husband's basketball pools. Villanova and UNC are tied, and the result determines whether he takes first or second in each of two pools worth several hundred dollars. And Nova's buzzer-beater costs us around $400. One the one hand, bite me Nova. On the other hand, second is still worth some much-appreciated money. And that was one hell of a game.
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
#MicroblogMondays: April Fools
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Ah, April Fools Day. the day when I feel like the biggest killjoy in the world. And yet, I refuse to stop. Every year, I will post something highlighting that the "I'm pregnant" prank is NOT FUNNY. Even when I was pregnant, it wasn't funny. Even when I had a baby and had not yet had my miscarriage, it wasn't funny. Now that I've lost a baby and a tube and an ovary and haven't been able to conceive again, it sure as hell isn't funny. Now that two of my closest friends lost their daughter at a day old and haven't conceived again, it sure as hell isn't funny. I'm not saying people can't have fun on April Fools Day, but show some damned creativity!!! And anyone who says I'm too sensitive is hereby invited to walk in my shoes or my husband's shoes or those of my friends T and D and then see how they feel.
Ah, April Fools Day. the day when I feel like the biggest killjoy in the world. And yet, I refuse to stop. Every year, I will post something highlighting that the "I'm pregnant" prank is NOT FUNNY. Even when I was pregnant, it wasn't funny. Even when I had a baby and had not yet had my miscarriage, it wasn't funny. Now that I've lost a baby and a tube and an ovary and haven't been able to conceive again, it sure as hell isn't funny. Now that two of my closest friends lost their daughter at a day old and haven't conceived again, it sure as hell isn't funny. I'm not saying people can't have fun on April Fools Day, but show some damned creativity!!! And anyone who says I'm too sensitive is hereby invited to walk in my shoes or my husband's shoes or those of my friends T and D and then see how they feel.
Sunday, March 27, 2016
Ugh
I'm pretty sure the endo is back full force. I've got an appointment at the end of April with the doctor who did my surgery last summer, and I have quite a few questions for him. I'm not going to give all the gross details here, but I wish I had other people who had it that I knew well enough to ask the gross questions.
Basically, at this point I hate being a woman. Not because of sexism or anything like that, but because there's nothing good for me physically about being a woman. I have boobs big enough that I can't wear button-down shirts or bras with underwires, they hurt when I run, and I have sweat issues in the summer. And I have other parts that spend a quarter of my life making a huge mess and leaving me in pain and reuse to do what they were designed to do.
Is anyone out there who has endo willing to talk frankly about their symptoms?
Basically, at this point I hate being a woman. Not because of sexism or anything like that, but because there's nothing good for me physically about being a woman. I have boobs big enough that I can't wear button-down shirts or bras with underwires, they hurt when I run, and I have sweat issues in the summer. And I have other parts that spend a quarter of my life making a huge mess and leaving me in pain and reuse to do what they were designed to do.
Is anyone out there who has endo willing to talk frankly about their symptoms?
Tuesday, March 22, 2016
#MicroblogMondays: The Finances of Miscarriage
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I'm on several Facebook groups related to miscarriage, and this article just showed up in my feed from one of them. I hadn't thought about how much miscarriage would cost for other people. When I thought mine was a "normal" miscarriage, I was thinking about how this baby that we had wanted was gone, dead inside me. I wasn't thinking about the cost to us for appointments or the surgery. I get reminders of the economic impact of my surgery frequently, as we are still working on paying the bills ($4000 or so?), but blood transfusions and an ICU stay will do that. I didn't think about what other people would pay or what I would have been paying if mine had been a "normal" D&C.
Food for thought, especially in this age where "everyone has insurance" means "we act like we'll take away your tax money, but we know you don't pay taxes because you have no income and we won't actually give you Medicaid until you're already dying of cancer and unable to be saved instead of 2 years earlier when it could have helped." No, I'm not bitter.
I'm on several Facebook groups related to miscarriage, and this article just showed up in my feed from one of them. I hadn't thought about how much miscarriage would cost for other people. When I thought mine was a "normal" miscarriage, I was thinking about how this baby that we had wanted was gone, dead inside me. I wasn't thinking about the cost to us for appointments or the surgery. I get reminders of the economic impact of my surgery frequently, as we are still working on paying the bills ($4000 or so?), but blood transfusions and an ICU stay will do that. I didn't think about what other people would pay or what I would have been paying if mine had been a "normal" D&C.
Food for thought, especially in this age where "everyone has insurance" means "we act like we'll take away your tax money, but we know you don't pay taxes because you have no income and we won't actually give you Medicaid until you're already dying of cancer and unable to be saved instead of 2 years earlier when it could have helped." No, I'm not bitter.
Monday, March 14, 2016
#MicroblogMondays: Don't Should on Me
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"Don't should on me." That's something a boss I used to have liked to say, addressing the "shoulds" that we put on ourselves and that others put on us? But what about the "shoulds" that "should" be there? That's the question that was raised by one of my clients today, who had had a miscarriage at the same time I did. She and I both SHOULD be able to be holding our babies now. Our babies SHOULD be able to live. We SHOULD be able to see what our babies will do with life. I didn't have an answer for her, because I'm still trying to answer that for myself. She's single now, but I SHOULD be able to conceive again. I SHOULD be able to have a rainbow baby, but I don't think I ever will.
How do you cope with what "should" be and isn't?
Thursday, March 10, 2016
The Death of Hope
I haven't been blogging lately because I've been having a lot of feelings, but they haven't really been coalescing into words and sentences very well. It's just been pain, unarticulated. Tears without words.
I really just need to give up hope of becoming pregnant again and being able to keep a pregnancy. Maybe then it will hurt less. Every month I'm trying to not expect anything, but then my body screws around with me, is off one day or another, and I start to wonder. And that's what kills me, because it makes the "no" more crushing. If I don't wonder, it won't hurt as much.
It's simple math. Endometriosis reduces the chances each month from 20-25% to 2-4%. I was 33 when I was last pregnant. At 2% per month, that's as long as 50 months before I would get pregnant again. By then, I'll be 38, almost 39, and having age affecting my ability to get pregnant. So by the time the endometriosis would let me get pregnant, age won't.
I have a toddler, and I love him, and I'm lucky and privileged to have him. I have a husband who adores me, and who I love deeply. I have stepchildren who I love. That's going to have to be enough.
I really just need to give up hope of becoming pregnant again and being able to keep a pregnancy. Maybe then it will hurt less. Every month I'm trying to not expect anything, but then my body screws around with me, is off one day or another, and I start to wonder. And that's what kills me, because it makes the "no" more crushing. If I don't wonder, it won't hurt as much.
It's simple math. Endometriosis reduces the chances each month from 20-25% to 2-4%. I was 33 when I was last pregnant. At 2% per month, that's as long as 50 months before I would get pregnant again. By then, I'll be 38, almost 39, and having age affecting my ability to get pregnant. So by the time the endometriosis would let me get pregnant, age won't.
I have a toddler, and I love him, and I'm lucky and privileged to have him. I have a husband who adores me, and who I love deeply. I have stepchildren who I love. That's going to have to be enough.
Monday, February 22, 2016
#MicroblogMondays: Tear Soup
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One of my clients handed this book to me to borrow a couple of weeks ago. A family friend had suggested it to her after she recently lost her husband. She said I would cry when reading it, and she was right, but it was the good kind of cry, the "yes, that's what it's like" kind of cry. It's written to fit for children and adults both, and it does a really good job of breaking down how grief changes and how it gets shared with others.
The main author has written several other short books and pamphlets, mainly about losing a child. She has a book for the older sibling of a lost baby and one for the rainbow baby. She has a pamphlet for parents after a miscarriage. I don't know if that would help or not at the stage that I'm at right now, but I've been thinking about getting it.
Right now, I feel so alone, like we're the only ones who can't have a rainbow baby. I know that's not true, I know there are so many people out there who haven't been able to have theirs. But it feels like it's just us. I still get a lot of comfort from having my son, and I know that's comfort and joy that I wouldn't have if Otter had come before him. But it's still lonely, and I'm still making my tear soup.
One of my clients handed this book to me to borrow a couple of weeks ago. A family friend had suggested it to her after she recently lost her husband. She said I would cry when reading it, and she was right, but it was the good kind of cry, the "yes, that's what it's like" kind of cry. It's written to fit for children and adults both, and it does a really good job of breaking down how grief changes and how it gets shared with others.
The main author has written several other short books and pamphlets, mainly about losing a child. She has a book for the older sibling of a lost baby and one for the rainbow baby. She has a pamphlet for parents after a miscarriage. I don't know if that would help or not at the stage that I'm at right now, but I've been thinking about getting it.
Right now, I feel so alone, like we're the only ones who can't have a rainbow baby. I know that's not true, I know there are so many people out there who haven't been able to have theirs. But it feels like it's just us. I still get a lot of comfort from having my son, and I know that's comfort and joy that I wouldn't have if Otter had come before him. But it's still lonely, and I'm still making my tear soup.
Monday, February 15, 2016
#MicroblogMondays: 20/20 Hindsight
Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is?Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.
I was going through more of my mom's belongings yesterday as I try to clear things out and see what can be used and what should be thrown out. Because this is my mom, I found a file of clippings/shopping bags/fliers from every year she went to Groundhog Day in Punxsutawney. Including 2005, the year she married my now-former stepdad. Among the things I found was the article in the Punxsutawney Spirit about them and the letter that she had written about how she would never leave or forsake him. Um, yeah, that was 5 years before she had to flee with her mom and 5 cats in the night and put him in prison. What fun memories to find on Valentine's Day!
I was going through more of my mom's belongings yesterday as I try to clear things out and see what can be used and what should be thrown out. Because this is my mom, I found a file of clippings/shopping bags/fliers from every year she went to Groundhog Day in Punxsutawney. Including 2005, the year she married my now-former stepdad. Among the things I found was the article in the Punxsutawney Spirit about them and the letter that she had written about how she would never leave or forsake him. Um, yeah, that was 5 years before she had to flee with her mom and 5 cats in the night and put him in prison. What fun memories to find on Valentine's Day!
Tuesday, February 09, 2016
#MicroblogMondays: Recurring Dreams
Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is?Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too
A lot of my recurring dreams relate to anxiety. I used to have the naked-in-public dream a lot, though that one hasn't come in a long time. What I get more frequently is either that it's the end of the semester and I haven't been to class or studied or (FAR more often before pregnancy) that I'm supposed to be taking care of a baby human or animal and I end up forgetting about it and leaving it for days or weeks until it is either almost or completely dead. I've eventually figured out that these dreams relate to my anxiety about dropping the ball on one thing or another. I try to do so much, and I have so little confidence in myself that I'm always sure I'm going to be screwing something up. I was running a tournament this past weekend, and I am waiting for the results of whether I passed my second attempt to become a full presenter for a workshop (after technology issues have forced late starts). My mind conflated those two, and I had a dream towards the end of last week where the tournament (which was supposed to start at 9 and go all day) wasn't ready to begin round 1 until about 2 in the afternoon. OK, brain, enough!
So what kind of recurring dreams do you have?
A lot of my recurring dreams relate to anxiety. I used to have the naked-in-public dream a lot, though that one hasn't come in a long time. What I get more frequently is either that it's the end of the semester and I haven't been to class or studied or (FAR more often before pregnancy) that I'm supposed to be taking care of a baby human or animal and I end up forgetting about it and leaving it for days or weeks until it is either almost or completely dead. I've eventually figured out that these dreams relate to my anxiety about dropping the ball on one thing or another. I try to do so much, and I have so little confidence in myself that I'm always sure I'm going to be screwing something up. I was running a tournament this past weekend, and I am waiting for the results of whether I passed my second attempt to become a full presenter for a workshop (after technology issues have forced late starts). My mind conflated those two, and I had a dream towards the end of last week where the tournament (which was supposed to start at 9 and go all day) wasn't ready to begin round 1 until about 2 in the afternoon. OK, brain, enough!
So what kind of recurring dreams do you have?
Saturday, February 06, 2016
A Different Kind of Self-Hate
I hate my body.
I don't mean that I hate my appearance. I mean, I do hate it plenty of times, I hate the shape of my body, I hate how fat I've always been. But what I mean is that I hate my body on the inside.
I hate the way my body fails me. I hate what my body does to me. When I work with clients on not hating their bodies, one thing I work on is changing the focus from how their body looks to the ways their body is powerful and what their body can do for them.
But what my body can do for me is pain. What my body can do for me is fail. Fail to be a real woman. Fail to carry my baby. Fail to even put my baby in the right place in my body.
I found myself this week focusing on trying to "get ahead of the pain" with how I timed taking my medicine, and it felt mentally like trying to get ahead of the pain as I recovered from the surgery. There's something wrong with that. I find myself rationing my medicine because of how expensive it is. And that's a generic, it's just a rare one. There's something wrong with that. It's my body, failing me like it does every month.
What's there to love about that?
I don't mean that I hate my appearance. I mean, I do hate it plenty of times, I hate the shape of my body, I hate how fat I've always been. But what I mean is that I hate my body on the inside.
I hate the way my body fails me. I hate what my body does to me. When I work with clients on not hating their bodies, one thing I work on is changing the focus from how their body looks to the ways their body is powerful and what their body can do for them.
But what my body can do for me is pain. What my body can do for me is fail. Fail to be a real woman. Fail to carry my baby. Fail to even put my baby in the right place in my body.
I found myself this week focusing on trying to "get ahead of the pain" with how I timed taking my medicine, and it felt mentally like trying to get ahead of the pain as I recovered from the surgery. There's something wrong with that. I find myself rationing my medicine because of how expensive it is. And that's a generic, it's just a rare one. There's something wrong with that. It's my body, failing me like it does every month.
What's there to love about that?
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