At 7pm I will be lighting a candle for my three lost ones, as well as my niece who was stillborn, and all the other children we've lost. My heart goes out to all of you who have lost.
Our children are always remembered, and forever loved.
Friday, October 15, 2010
National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day
It's October 15th again, you know what that means- It's National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. I invite you to join me, and spread the word.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Coincidences-
I get little things every now and then, things that remind me of my lost ones. Like my pendants, my tattoo, the tree and two bushes in the backyard, the sleeping angel, the three little birds statues... I've always associated the first one with birds, hence my tattoo for that one being a sparrow. And ever since then, it's just been a thing... birds make me think of my babies. So those three little birds were just so perfect, on sale, three different colors, unique, adorable. They watch us from the mantle, and I adore them.
I've had a tattoo design in mind for all three since the last one. It incorporates all three of my losses, intertwined. The colors I chose to use are the birthstones for the months I lost them, as opposed to when they would have been due. I have since painted that design, and am just waiting until we take a break from treatments or move on altogether. It looked better than I imagined, and I can't wait to get it done.
I didn't realize it until just now though, but those colors are the same as my three little birds. It was quite unintentional. I bought the birds on a whim, and there were three colors- so I got one of each. This was after the last loss, during the winter still. I wasn't even thinking of the new tattoo design quite yet, or about what colors it would be. I didn't mean to buy birds in corresponding colors to the months I lost my little ones, but I did.
When I looked up there just now, it made me smile as I realized this. Something so small, purely coincidental, but so right.
I've had a tattoo design in mind for all three since the last one. It incorporates all three of my losses, intertwined. The colors I chose to use are the birthstones for the months I lost them, as opposed to when they would have been due. I have since painted that design, and am just waiting until we take a break from treatments or move on altogether. It looked better than I imagined, and I can't wait to get it done.
I didn't realize it until just now though, but those colors are the same as my three little birds. It was quite unintentional. I bought the birds on a whim, and there were three colors- so I got one of each. This was after the last loss, during the winter still. I wasn't even thinking of the new tattoo design quite yet, or about what colors it would be. I didn't mean to buy birds in corresponding colors to the months I lost my little ones, but I did.
When I looked up there just now, it made me smile as I realized this. Something so small, purely coincidental, but so right.
Monday, October 11, 2010
What would make the week complete?
Two pregnancy announcements- of course.
Recently married co-worker (which was no big shocker, she had a pregnancy book a few months ago- I knew it was coming). But A-s boss also announced that they're expecting their 5th. Lovely. That I did not expect... I kind of thought they were done.
It's good that some people's reproductive ability is still intact, but geesh. Was there something in the water that I missed out on?
Self pity is ugly on me... so, back to my Femara and adoption books! I will be a mother, one way or another... at least, that's what I keep telling myself.
I just really wish I knew when. I'm so tired of waiting... always waiting.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
So yeah-
I am very frustrated, but we'll be fine. Money is just flying out the door this week. Plumbing was all backed up, toilet yuckiness was coming up in the basement. Ewwwwwwww! Tree roots were growing into the pipes, making everything get all backed up. Lovely, right? There went a pretty large lump of money.
And then medicine (which insurance didn't cover), ATM errors (still waiting on them to clear that crap up, my deposit money sits in limbo until then), major insurance run around, and other shit... it's just been a crazy week.
I made the best of things last night and had fun with my friends, so that was good.
I think I have two days left of Femara, and I go back in a week to see what's kicking (or what's not). Tick-tock goes the clock.
And then medicine (which insurance didn't cover), ATM errors (still waiting on them to clear that crap up, my deposit money sits in limbo until then), major insurance run around, and other shit... it's just been a crazy week.
I made the best of things last night and had fun with my friends, so that was good.
I think I have two days left of Femara, and I go back in a week to see what's kicking (or what's not). Tick-tock goes the clock.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
No offense-
My doctor walked into our room this morning and said something like, "No offense, but I'm ready to never see you guys again."
The feeling is mutual, although I will miss her. She is one awesome doctor.
No cysts, and we're doing 7.5mg Femara this cycle. We'll see how that goes.
She said she might have enough Bravelle saved up for me next month to do an injectable cycle... if she does, we plan to take her up on that. If not... we have all month to figure out what we're going to do instead, so I'm trying not to worry too much about it right now. Thinking about things, but not letting it get too consuming.
The feeling is mutual, although I will miss her. She is one awesome doctor.
No cysts, and we're doing 7.5mg Femara this cycle. We'll see how that goes.
She said she might have enough Bravelle saved up for me next month to do an injectable cycle... if she does, we plan to take her up on that. If not... we have all month to figure out what we're going to do instead, so I'm trying not to worry too much about it right now. Thinking about things, but not letting it get too consuming.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Passing of time-
Well, as you already know- the cycle was a bust. I've been feeling pretty down, and took two days to whine my heart out and type out some aggressions about last cycle. I did some paintings, and just processed. I feel much better now. Going in for a baseline this morning and we'll be talking to our doctor. More on that below, and more of that to come.
I've been thinking a lot about how much time has passed, and it always catches me off guard, like I can't believe it. It doesn't feel like that much time has passed, or that it was us who went through such awful things... but it was. It always catches in my throat, like a cry that never quite leaves me. Time and it's passing, or lack of progression. Sometimes it feels like time stopped, like we were moving along as everyone else does and we got sidetracked along the way. We never made it to the final destination, we just kept wandering in circles. But it's not that time stopped, it's that we stopped somewhere along the way and chose to ignore it's passing. Or to try, at least.
Three and a half years is a long time. I don't always think about it, but when I actually take the time to reflect... damn. That's a long time, and we've been through a lot in that time. It's different when you say it, than when you actually take the time to let it sink in... really notice it.
Three and a half years is a long time. I don't always think about it, but when I actually take the time to reflect... damn. That's a long time, and we've been through a lot in that time. It's different when you say it, than when you actually take the time to let it sink in... really notice it.
It's one thing when I say it's been three and a half years, but another when I say it's been three and a half years with three different doctors, two and a half years with fertility treatments, three miscarriages, four IUIs, three cycles of injectables, over 10 of Clomid, 3 Femara; and not to mention the surgeries, procedures, and countless blood tests, and well over $20k spent between our medical insurance and ourselves. We started trying when I was barely 22, and I will be turning 26 in January... ungh. Obviously being young did me no good.
I had a good cry last night with my husband, A-. I said to him, "I never thought we'd still be here." I've been reflecting on that statement. I realized, or remembered now, that I really thought we'd have a living child by now, or have moved on to adoption. I never planned on continuing fertility treatments for so long. Heck, after the first miscarriage I told myself that if we had three miscarriages in total, I would be done.
I had a good cry last night with my husband, A-. I said to him, "I never thought we'd still be here." I've been reflecting on that statement. I realized, or remembered now, that I really thought we'd have a living child by now, or have moved on to adoption. I never planned on continuing fertility treatments for so long. Heck, after the first miscarriage I told myself that if we had three miscarriages in total, I would be done.
Yet here we are, still in the depths of fertility treatments. Yes we know more about what's wrong, and knowledge is power, but I still don't always respond to treatments- even knowing all we do now. And we still don't know if I'll ever be able to carry to term. My doctor is optimistic... we're, umm, not so much.
But we've kept going. It's so easy to say, "Yeah, let's do another month." Or "let's try this." When you look at things in the span of weeks instead of years. It's easy to just keep going along when you don't step back and look at the broader picture. When you do that it can get overwhelming, but sometimes you have to do it so you know where you're going.
A lot has happened in these three and a half years. I was going through some old papers last night, and I found my wall calendar from 2008. I leafed through it, and saw my notes on my positive pregnancy test. The date, the excited hand writing, the exclamation point. A week later, I saw the sad writing, "m/c confirmed". A few months later, my first fertility appointment with my ob/gyn, first failed round of Clomid, and so on. Later in the calendar, I saw where I had boxed off the week I was supposed to be due. Happy new year.
The next wall calendar, for 2009, marked my accident and subsequent whip lash, then Clomid, and surprise birthday ovulation. Pregnancy. A following of betas, reaching up into the 2,000's and in the end 5,000's. Then a month later, I marked the end of it. Then the calendar was filled with make-up assignments for school, because my professors let me finish the quarter with incompletes. I had three courses to make up, I still remember the courses; fiction writing, literary publishing, and medieval British history and literature. Time crept by the estimated due date, and I saw the frown and circled date. A month after the estimated due date, I was pregnant again. I could see the weak betas, the hopelessness, and the eventual m/c... the week of Thanksgiving. All of it pristinely kept in time within that calendar. The rest of the year was mostly unmarked.
I didn't keep a wall calendar this year. I'm glad I don't have it to reflect on as well. I keep forgetting what day it is, because I've graduated college and only work a few days a week. Time feels like it's creeping by, but in reality it's flying by without me really noticing. It's already October... and I don't know how it got this far already. Where did the year go?
We haven't completely decided how we're going to end treatments. We talked some last night, and all we know for sure is that we are going to do another Femara cycle. Well, if the beast hasn't left a giant cyst which might force the cycle to get grounded... we'll find out if that's the case of not tomorrow morning. We'll also talk to our doctor then, and try to figure out what we want to do.
But we've kept going. It's so easy to say, "Yeah, let's do another month." Or "let's try this." When you look at things in the span of weeks instead of years. It's easy to just keep going along when you don't step back and look at the broader picture. When you do that it can get overwhelming, but sometimes you have to do it so you know where you're going.
A lot has happened in these three and a half years. I was going through some old papers last night, and I found my wall calendar from 2008. I leafed through it, and saw my notes on my positive pregnancy test. The date, the excited hand writing, the exclamation point. A week later, I saw the sad writing, "m/c confirmed". A few months later, my first fertility appointment with my ob/gyn, first failed round of Clomid, and so on. Later in the calendar, I saw where I had boxed off the week I was supposed to be due. Happy new year.
The next wall calendar, for 2009, marked my accident and subsequent whip lash, then Clomid, and surprise birthday ovulation. Pregnancy. A following of betas, reaching up into the 2,000's and in the end 5,000's. Then a month later, I marked the end of it. Then the calendar was filled with make-up assignments for school, because my professors let me finish the quarter with incompletes. I had three courses to make up, I still remember the courses; fiction writing, literary publishing, and medieval British history and literature. Time crept by the estimated due date, and I saw the frown and circled date. A month after the estimated due date, I was pregnant again. I could see the weak betas, the hopelessness, and the eventual m/c... the week of Thanksgiving. All of it pristinely kept in time within that calendar. The rest of the year was mostly unmarked.
I didn't keep a wall calendar this year. I'm glad I don't have it to reflect on as well. I keep forgetting what day it is, because I've graduated college and only work a few days a week. Time feels like it's creeping by, but in reality it's flying by without me really noticing. It's already October... and I don't know how it got this far already. Where did the year go?
We haven't completely decided how we're going to end treatments. We talked some last night, and all we know for sure is that we are going to do another Femara cycle. Well, if the beast hasn't left a giant cyst which might force the cycle to get grounded... we'll find out if that's the case of not tomorrow morning. We'll also talk to our doctor then, and try to figure out what we want to do.
I honestly don't think I want to take a break now, and I especially don't know if I want to return to treatments in the spring after said break. Part of me still wants to just push through and quit in April, the four year mark. And in spring maybe attend the counties fostering classes- they only offer them in the spring and autumn here. But part of me wants to keep going until I stop responding completely again, which may be soon since I'm getting more and more resistant. And another part of me wants to just walk away now. The only thing I'm positive about, is that I can't keep doing this for much longer, I want an exit date. I don't want a break, I want an exit date. But at the same time, sweet word, I don't want to stop. I want to keep pushing... I mean I'm ovulating, why am I suddenly not getting pregnant? I'm responding to treatments, so there's always that last chance at pregnancy, that last shot... but it hasn't happened yet, and the longer it keeps not happening, the more I'm convinced it won't happen.
I think part of me not wanting to stop, is because I know that once we stop it really is the end. I don't know if we'll ever revisit treatments, and I don't ovulate on my own. ever. like, for serious. never ever. I will have to take either progesterone or birth control pills the rest of my life to bring on new cycles, and it will be nearly impossible for me to get pregnant (unless I ovulate when I go off birth control, which does sometimes happen) But, seriously, my own body is the best birth control ever. We should bottle up my infertility and sell it the all the fertiles who never want to get pregnant. I might as well be freakin' sterile. When we stop treatments, it will be the end. All she wrote. Not a sliver of a chance at pregnancy. I know anything is possible, so I won't say it's impossible. But it's highly unlikely. And in any case, I won't be holding my breath on that one.
I think part of me not wanting to stop, is because I know that once we stop it really is the end. I don't know if we'll ever revisit treatments, and I don't ovulate on my own. ever. like, for serious. never ever. I will have to take either progesterone or birth control pills the rest of my life to bring on new cycles, and it will be nearly impossible for me to get pregnant (unless I ovulate when I go off birth control, which does sometimes happen) But, seriously, my own body is the best birth control ever. We should bottle up my infertility and sell it the all the fertiles who never want to get pregnant. I might as well be freakin' sterile. When we stop treatments, it will be the end. All she wrote. Not a sliver of a chance at pregnancy. I know anything is possible, so I won't say it's impossible. But it's highly unlikely. And in any case, I won't be holding my breath on that one.
So where are we going... hmm, that's a good question. I wish I knew. My husband and I seem to be in slightly different places about what we want to do. He wants to continue with treatments for now because I'm responding. And I, for the first time in all this, really don't know what I want to do. I know I want to end treatments sometime next year, definitely. I can't keep doing this. But what do we do until then, and when do we stop... I don't know.
We're certainly not making any major decisions right now, spur of the moment as it would be. We'll think about it more this month, talk to the doctor in the morning, and go from there I guess. We'll just keep reflecting and thinking about the future until we reach a decision we're happy with for us.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Ungh-
Infertility is worse than a school bully- it degrades you and makes you feel like you're totally inept and worthless, incapable of the simplest tasks. Then it steals hundreds of dollars, sometimes THOUSANDS. So you're left there, humiliated in front of the world, and penniless.
In short... I wasted $500 last month. And for what? Another fucking negative test.
I've wasted more than that in the past, I have. But this month it has just really pissed me off. I'm feeling very BITTER. I'm feeling angry. I feel defeated.
I think most of it's because I would rather have put that money towards our savings. Instead, it was a total waste. The money has done nothing positive, I have nothing to show for it at all... except another negative test.
I know, I wanted to do a few more cycles so that I have no regrets. We wanted to give it our best shot. But I can't help but wonder if I'm going to end up with more regrets about pressing on. I could be $500 closer to pursuing adoption right now... instead my savings account balance is the same as it was the month before last, and it's not going anywhere, and I'm never going to see that $500 again.
I just feel pissy right now... I'll be less pissy in a few days, I'm sure. I always am. But right now... ungh.
In short... I wasted $500 last month. And for what? Another fucking negative test.
I've wasted more than that in the past, I have. But this month it has just really pissed me off. I'm feeling very BITTER. I'm feeling angry. I feel defeated.
I think most of it's because I would rather have put that money towards our savings. Instead, it was a total waste. The money has done nothing positive, I have nothing to show for it at all... except another negative test.
I know, I wanted to do a few more cycles so that I have no regrets. We wanted to give it our best shot. But I can't help but wonder if I'm going to end up with more regrets about pressing on. I could be $500 closer to pursuing adoption right now... instead my savings account balance is the same as it was the month before last, and it's not going anywhere, and I'm never going to see that $500 again.
I just feel pissy right now... I'll be less pissy in a few days, I'm sure. I always am. But right now... ungh.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)