This was a little unexpected. God Bless my darling sister in law who whose waters broke on Tuesday morning and ended up having basically a crash C-section at 32 weeks. She had a little boy - Simon John who weighed in at 3 pounds 11 ounces and was 16 inches long. The little wee thing spent one night on a ventilator, got surfactant and is now breathing on his own with a tiny whiff of oxygen via nasal cannula. Mommy is also doing good. I am so incredibly thrilled - even though there a couple of folks who are convinced I am utterly suicidal about this. To them I say "Get over it!"
You see as anyone who has read this knows I did kinda fall apart when I found out about the pregnancy and it did take me and mommy a while to get comfortable talking about it. She didn't want to upset me, I didn't want to make her feel bad. But as grown women we worked it out. When I got the news on Tuesday my primary concern was mommy and baby - didn't actually consider me and RB and our situation which really is so peripheral to all of this. Sadly convincing that couple of people that I am not about to swallow a handful of pills or hang myself from the nearest beam seems to be impossible. The passive aggressive remarks about not having savings, and stress causing our miscarriage 3 years ago did not endear these people to me either. I miscarried because I miscarried - end of story. I have stopped blaming myself so these folks need to stop trying to blame us too.
We are planning on heading down to MD when the other folks have left - I am more than happy to stay up a couple of nights with the bairn to give mommy and daddy a break - I just want to do it without the critical gaze of our biggest critics. Well I guess the old adage is very true...you can choose your friends, but you cannot choose your family.
My sister in law is hoping we do get pregnant soon so the two bairns will be close in age and can be brought up together - I think this is adorable given that I have grown up with an uncle who is more like a big brother and cousins that I few as siblings - but then I do have a huge family....
So where are we with all of this baby making. Actively trying, feeling my cervix, checking my mucous (all so very gross) timing sex...not pregnant. I have actually stopped being upset when I get my period - I finally reached acceptance that we will need some help with all of this. We saw Dr. Styer on Wednesday (oh the irony) and here is the plan
- clomid challenge in the New Year on our schedule
- if not PG during the challenge then 1 cycle of clomid with IUI
- if no joy then SC injections and IUI for 4 cycles
- if no joy the IVF for however long it takes....
I am so freaking glad I live in Massachusetts so this is covered by insurance. Serendipitous move I think.
But back to Wee Simon (or as hubby and I have christened him the Cartman of the NICU - given that he is way big by NICU standards) - we are just so thrilled that he is doing so well, and we are already spoiling him...and we will always have gum.
Newborn Poppy
Friday, December 19, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Getting to the edge of reason
So it happened. Happy Friday - here comes mother nature. I actually thought I was doing really well until Saturday when Pampers ads and the ad for the Cord Blood banks made me cry, and that has pretty much been the status quo since then. It seems that anything and everything sets me off. Of course none of this is helped by the fact that other people who are blessed to be pregnant are unhappy with their bump and shudder at the thought of any pregnancy pictures, and just generally complain. Well you know what "SUCK IT UP" You have something that so many of us would give anything for, no being pregnant is not easy, it's bloody hard work carrying around a whole new life, but you are having a healthy baby so don't you dare complain that your tummy looks wrong. I would in all seriousness sell my soul for a baby.
See - I am getting pretty close to the edge of reason now. It is all becoming a bit too much. I have never felt more alone in my life, and I have never felt like such a failure. You think that being a mom is a given, at least I always did. I know I made mistakes in the past, and I know that realistically I am not being punished by some higher power for them, but the feeling is still there. But the overwhelming feeling I have is that I know I will be a bloody good mom - I would just like the chance to do it. Just once. I am not greedy, I don't want a brood, just one little person.
I feel bad for Robert because he just doesn't know what to do about how I am feeling, he doesn't know what to say so he gives me all the platitudes I hear from everyone else. Next year, it'll happen, stop worrying, stop obsessing. I can't tell him how upset she is making me because then I am just being mean and bitchy. You know what maybe I am but I don't know how else to feel when the lovely soft teddy bear, the big bumper bag of new baby stuff and cute clothes are not getting put in a dresser here, and then he asks me to make a quilt for her - and I just can't. I have tried. I have talked maternity clothes (none of them were good enough), nursery themes, vaccination schedules - everything a supportive relative should do - and not once has any of them actually said "Hey Jo, how are you doing with all of this?" Is that too much to ask? I actually just told Robert how I feel and he offered to talk to her for me, but of course his rationale is "Well she's probably just saying that so you don't feel bad" Well guess what - it bloody well makes me feel worse because it makes her sound so bloody ungrateful and vain and spoiled.
So I will have my HSG which as I have said previously will undoubtedly be incredibly painful, and my mum and Nessa and a few other good friends will ask me how I am - but some will just ignore it. It almost makes me feel like they are thinking that if they all ignore it it will go away and I won't be there to take the shine off the perfect child.
See - I am getting pretty close to the edge of reason now. It is all becoming a bit too much. I have never felt more alone in my life, and I have never felt like such a failure. You think that being a mom is a given, at least I always did. I know I made mistakes in the past, and I know that realistically I am not being punished by some higher power for them, but the feeling is still there. But the overwhelming feeling I have is that I know I will be a bloody good mom - I would just like the chance to do it. Just once. I am not greedy, I don't want a brood, just one little person.
I feel bad for Robert because he just doesn't know what to do about how I am feeling, he doesn't know what to say so he gives me all the platitudes I hear from everyone else. Next year, it'll happen, stop worrying, stop obsessing. I can't tell him how upset she is making me because then I am just being mean and bitchy. You know what maybe I am but I don't know how else to feel when the lovely soft teddy bear, the big bumper bag of new baby stuff and cute clothes are not getting put in a dresser here, and then he asks me to make a quilt for her - and I just can't. I have tried. I have talked maternity clothes (none of them were good enough), nursery themes, vaccination schedules - everything a supportive relative should do - and not once has any of them actually said "Hey Jo, how are you doing with all of this?" Is that too much to ask? I actually just told Robert how I feel and he offered to talk to her for me, but of course his rationale is "Well she's probably just saying that so you don't feel bad" Well guess what - it bloody well makes me feel worse because it makes her sound so bloody ungrateful and vain and spoiled.
So I will have my HSG which as I have said previously will undoubtedly be incredibly painful, and my mum and Nessa and a few other good friends will ask me how I am - but some will just ignore it. It almost makes me feel like they are thinking that if they all ignore it it will go away and I won't be there to take the shine off the perfect child.
Monday, November 10, 2008
5 days and counting and another bitch slap from reality
Monday
So, I stopped thinking about having a baby and concentrated on just having fun. It's been lots of fun.....But of course now I am 5 days late. I am now actually too scared to pee on a stick. I emailed the amazing Cheryl about maybe doing a blood test. I will see what happens over the next few days. I don't know what to do. It just seems that after all these months of worry it may be too good true to be true. So what's a girl to do? I think it may be time to talk to the mommy pals and see what they say.........
Tuesday
I am exhausted, no matter what I do and my eyes are all kinds of screwy when I am at work - I am thinking a combination of stress and the lighting. I would love more natural light but that's impossible at this time of year - oh, and my office has no windows. So I am still wondering. Finally at lunch time Judy asks me how the baby making is going and so I tell her that I am now 6 days late - so we do a serum HCG. I spend 2 hours feeling sick with butterflies - and there it is <6 as usual. I am not sure why I let myself be so hopeful this time. Maybe I thought that the fates would smile on me this time, and I would find out that I was pregnant almost exactly 3 years since the miscarriage. But the fates are obviously busy elsewhere again. I hate that I am feeling like this - there are so many people in this world with problems that far surpass mine but just for a few days I know I won't be able to get my head around that. So now I get ready for the period that will undoubtedly come and then get ready for another painful feet in stirrups procedure where they say that ibuprofen before hand will make it such a breeze - this is a lie. I get another test just to see how broken I actually am, how far past my sell by date I am. How I blew those 2 chances, how I am being punished for my sins.
The worst thing is I can read this and part of me is thinking "Whoa crazy girl here" but another part of me is "Sod it - this is something I want more than anything in the world I am allowed to have some self pity, I am allowed to acknowledge my feelings, get them out.
This sucks. Basically that's it. It sucks.
So, I stopped thinking about having a baby and concentrated on just having fun. It's been lots of fun.....But of course now I am 5 days late. I am now actually too scared to pee on a stick. I emailed the amazing Cheryl about maybe doing a blood test. I will see what happens over the next few days. I don't know what to do. It just seems that after all these months of worry it may be too good true to be true. So what's a girl to do? I think it may be time to talk to the mommy pals and see what they say.........
Tuesday
I am exhausted, no matter what I do and my eyes are all kinds of screwy when I am at work - I am thinking a combination of stress and the lighting. I would love more natural light but that's impossible at this time of year - oh, and my office has no windows. So I am still wondering. Finally at lunch time Judy asks me how the baby making is going and so I tell her that I am now 6 days late - so we do a serum HCG. I spend 2 hours feeling sick with butterflies - and there it is <6 as usual. I am not sure why I let myself be so hopeful this time. Maybe I thought that the fates would smile on me this time, and I would find out that I was pregnant almost exactly 3 years since the miscarriage. But the fates are obviously busy elsewhere again. I hate that I am feeling like this - there are so many people in this world with problems that far surpass mine but just for a few days I know I won't be able to get my head around that. So now I get ready for the period that will undoubtedly come and then get ready for another painful feet in stirrups procedure where they say that ibuprofen before hand will make it such a breeze - this is a lie. I get another test just to see how broken I actually am, how far past my sell by date I am. How I blew those 2 chances, how I am being punished for my sins.
The worst thing is I can read this and part of me is thinking "Whoa crazy girl here" but another part of me is "Sod it - this is something I want more than anything in the world I am allowed to have some self pity, I am allowed to acknowledge my feelings, get them out.
This sucks. Basically that's it. It sucks.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Learning to adapt
So, after my hospital stay, but before the lap chole I see Dr. Styer. We talk about plans - we will see him again in December and make plans. In the interim with my November cycle I get to have my hyterosalpingogam - oh lovely - stirrups, tubes, speculums and dye! But we kinda have a plan in place and Robert is really on board - the news about his fantastic sperm really helped.
I also have to make a shout out to Sarah, Tony and baby Harper as well as our wonderful neighbors with the seriously cute Diane (2) and Billy (3 mos) - as they all infected him with a baby bug, so I actually finally feel as if we are on the way.
I am thinking the plans will be IUI and if that doesn't work then IVF. So what to do? You know the thing is now there is an end in sight and a hope of a baby I am getting pretty zen about all of this. I bought a book and if anyone actually reads this and are going through or about to go through all of this BUY THIS BOOK!
"A FEW GOOD EGGS - TWO CHICKS DISH ON OVERCOMING THE INSANITY OF INFERTILITY" BY JULIE VARGO AND MAUREEN REGAN
See, the thing is I had originally turned to the Internet and got all freaked out because I read medical journals, papers and even textbooks. I stopped being human and let my utterly clinical brain cope and think for the rest of me. So standing in Borders by State St, I finally allowed myself to browse the pregnancy section and there hidden (as it always seems to be) in plain sight was this little biddy section on infertility. Some of the books seemed like they would get a bit "well you didn't or did do ABC, therefore..." or "eat this, that and the other and..."but in the midst of this I find this book. I bought it.
I ignored it for a month.
Today I finally picked it up, put it in my work bag, ignored on the way to work, but coming home I plucked it out and started to read.
I ignored Part 1, and moved straight to "Finally....unprotected sex" and it is a hoot. I am finally laughing. I am finally realizing that being a nurse doesn't mean I know a thing about reproduction or my own body for that matter. Given that I briefly taught sex ed I am kind of embarrassed at my lack of knowledge. Seriously I have learned things I never expected to know. Who knew the importance of cervical mucous - that stuff I always thought of as "vaginal discharge." Who knew how much your temperature could vary or how inconclusive ovulation predictor tests can be - seems a thermometer and playing with the aforementioned mucous is much more reliable. But apart from the embarrassment at my shocking lack of knowledge I am now calm and so much more relaxed about all of this.
Why this sudden calmness? I don't know. It could be that we have been kinda bunny like recently and I think (without a thermometer or mucous checks) I may have ovulated at some point during this past week of fun and "shenanigans." So - why am I not obsessively doing date checks like I have every other month this year? I know that there are other options so if we don't do this on our own we have help just down the street. So I can finally relax and just enjoy it and not think all of those thoughts like "Will this be the month" ; "Surely this month is the one" ; "Why isn't this month the one?"; "What did I do wrong that this isn't the month?" I truly thank Julie and Maureen for this. I even have the confidence to share parts of the book and what I am learning with Robert. WOW.
I have allowed myself just one day of serious weepies when I saw on my sister-in-law's Facebook page that the baby had kicked for the first time and all her mommy friends were so excited - and as happy as I was I couldn't be excited, just jealous that I wasn't feeling that. It only lasted a day though and now I am so excited and happy for them both and I am totally looking forward to being an aunt to my baby nephew in February.
I also have to make a shout out to Sarah, Tony and baby Harper as well as our wonderful neighbors with the seriously cute Diane (2) and Billy (3 mos) - as they all infected him with a baby bug, so I actually finally feel as if we are on the way.
I am thinking the plans will be IUI and if that doesn't work then IVF. So what to do? You know the thing is now there is an end in sight and a hope of a baby I am getting pretty zen about all of this. I bought a book and if anyone actually reads this and are going through or about to go through all of this BUY THIS BOOK!
"A FEW GOOD EGGS - TWO CHICKS DISH ON OVERCOMING THE INSANITY OF INFERTILITY" BY JULIE VARGO AND MAUREEN REGAN
See, the thing is I had originally turned to the Internet and got all freaked out because I read medical journals, papers and even textbooks. I stopped being human and let my utterly clinical brain cope and think for the rest of me. So standing in Borders by State St, I finally allowed myself to browse the pregnancy section and there hidden (as it always seems to be) in plain sight was this little biddy section on infertility. Some of the books seemed like they would get a bit "well you didn't or did do ABC, therefore..." or "eat this, that and the other and..."but in the midst of this I find this book. I bought it.
I ignored it for a month.
Today I finally picked it up, put it in my work bag, ignored on the way to work, but coming home I plucked it out and started to read.
I ignored Part 1, and moved straight to "Finally....unprotected sex" and it is a hoot. I am finally laughing. I am finally realizing that being a nurse doesn't mean I know a thing about reproduction or my own body for that matter. Given that I briefly taught sex ed I am kind of embarrassed at my lack of knowledge. Seriously I have learned things I never expected to know. Who knew the importance of cervical mucous - that stuff I always thought of as "vaginal discharge." Who knew how much your temperature could vary or how inconclusive ovulation predictor tests can be - seems a thermometer and playing with the aforementioned mucous is much more reliable. But apart from the embarrassment at my shocking lack of knowledge I am now calm and so much more relaxed about all of this.
Why this sudden calmness? I don't know. It could be that we have been kinda bunny like recently and I think (without a thermometer or mucous checks) I may have ovulated at some point during this past week of fun and "shenanigans." So - why am I not obsessively doing date checks like I have every other month this year? I know that there are other options so if we don't do this on our own we have help just down the street. So I can finally relax and just enjoy it and not think all of those thoughts like "Will this be the month" ; "Surely this month is the one" ; "Why isn't this month the one?"; "What did I do wrong that this isn't the month?" I truly thank Julie and Maureen for this. I even have the confidence to share parts of the book and what I am learning with Robert. WOW.
I have allowed myself just one day of serious weepies when I saw on my sister-in-law's Facebook page that the baby had kicked for the first time and all her mommy friends were so excited - and as happy as I was I couldn't be excited, just jealous that I wasn't feeling that. It only lasted a day though and now I am so excited and happy for them both and I am totally looking forward to being an aunt to my baby nephew in February.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Abdominal Issues over....
So the EGD was just fine and dandy, yet I was still not eating, still puking, still looking like death warmed over. I called Erica, the wonderful, fabulous Erica and all of a sudden my surgery is jumped up to Monday September 22nd and I am having my lap chole. It's all gone. The pain is all gone, sadly eating fatty foods still kinda sucks - doesn't hurt, but goes in one end and out the other. So there isn't much fun food, but man have I lost weight! You would think that I would lose weight have more energy and exercise more - nah. I have less energy, and actually that's because I have no appetite. So we are trying to reintroduce foods and I am finding that I like very particular things - I like tuna, I love sushi, I love lean beef and potatoes - I do not like french fries, I do not like grilled cheese sandwiches. I ate pizza today - 1 small slice and I was so stuffed.
I have 4 tiny incisions that are healing just fine, and if I keep off the fatty foods - no pain, no diar-horrors - it's all go good.
Oh - and due to the damn gall bladder I had to rescind my place at BHI for the mind-body medicine program - I was pretty much tied up for the first 3 weeks of the program. So I am having to find other ways to deal with how I am feeling and all of this mess.....
I have 4 tiny incisions that are healing just fine, and if I keep off the fatty foods - no pain, no diar-horrors - it's all go good.
Oh - and due to the damn gall bladder I had to rescind my place at BHI for the mind-body medicine program - I was pretty much tied up for the first 3 weeks of the program. So I am having to find other ways to deal with how I am feeling and all of this mess.....
Saturday, September 13, 2008
I thought this was a post partum issue????
So - something I forgot to mention about when I saw the baby doc at BHI - he palpated my belly and when he pressed on my right upper quadrant I just about left the table. This led to an odd week of discomfort around that area with nausea, pain and just kinda feeling crappy - oh and of course I largely ignored this - it was so bloody busy at work what was I supposed to do?
Well, Dez came into town on Friday and we had a blast until Sunday morning when I got up puking up anything I had the temerity to imbibe....and all I tried was water. The pain was by now "quite spectacular" as I described it to my hubby. So while RB, Dez and Kelly went on my orders to Gloucester I went to the ED. This was at 10.30am. At 1.30pm I got my ultrasound, much much later I got my CT, and finally I got admitted to Ellison 7. Here's the thing - the doctors - oh lord I got so messed around - surgery - no surgery - surgery - no surgery. All this finally reduce me to tears by 1.00am. I got the best medicine finally - hugs from a lovely Haitian nurse called Evie. Oh that did more healing than any pain med, and IV antibiotic. When I got to the floor my nurse was Tiffany - although not like "TG" - this girl was sober (ie had not been drinking) and so sweet and competent. And that was how it went - all my nurses were fab, all the radiology staff were fab - the ER docs were lovely and the surgeons ran the gamut. Some were very nice and I really don't know how given that their chief residents were without a doubt the biggest douche bags EVER. One pounded on my left upper quadrant until it hurt and then said I couldn't possibly have a gall bladder problem - surgery cancelled - no doubt for something way sexier than a simple lap chole. One showed up 2 mornings running after I had about 2 hours of morphine induced slumber, pressed on my belly, made me hurt and left promising to come back. Yeah right - still waiting.
Thing is my scans were negative so although I had a consistent clinical exam my scans didn't agree - so I had a joyful 72 hours NPO while the team changed it's mind every 12 hours and basically ignored me. One chief (the early morning one) actually said he didn't want to do surgery if my gall bladder was okay because I would become a chronic pain patient. Oh bless my nurse for sharing this with me. Chronic pain - me - oh puuhleeze.
So second opinion time - the lovely Dr Berger who doesn't look for zebras when he hears hoof beats - a guy who understands that scans are not infallible - he actually believed me. The plan now is an upper GI to rule out an ulcer (yeah - right - no reflux, no heartburn....) and if /when that is negative I get a lap chole on Oct 17th. But this was seriously supposed to be post-baby not pre-baby.........
Well, Dez came into town on Friday and we had a blast until Sunday morning when I got up puking up anything I had the temerity to imbibe....and all I tried was water. The pain was by now "quite spectacular" as I described it to my hubby. So while RB, Dez and Kelly went on my orders to Gloucester I went to the ED. This was at 10.30am. At 1.30pm I got my ultrasound, much much later I got my CT, and finally I got admitted to Ellison 7. Here's the thing - the doctors - oh lord I got so messed around - surgery - no surgery - surgery - no surgery. All this finally reduce me to tears by 1.00am. I got the best medicine finally - hugs from a lovely Haitian nurse called Evie. Oh that did more healing than any pain med, and IV antibiotic. When I got to the floor my nurse was Tiffany - although not like "TG" - this girl was sober (ie had not been drinking) and so sweet and competent. And that was how it went - all my nurses were fab, all the radiology staff were fab - the ER docs were lovely and the surgeons ran the gamut. Some were very nice and I really don't know how given that their chief residents were without a doubt the biggest douche bags EVER. One pounded on my left upper quadrant until it hurt and then said I couldn't possibly have a gall bladder problem - surgery cancelled - no doubt for something way sexier than a simple lap chole. One showed up 2 mornings running after I had about 2 hours of morphine induced slumber, pressed on my belly, made me hurt and left promising to come back. Yeah right - still waiting.
Thing is my scans were negative so although I had a consistent clinical exam my scans didn't agree - so I had a joyful 72 hours NPO while the team changed it's mind every 12 hours and basically ignored me. One chief (the early morning one) actually said he didn't want to do surgery if my gall bladder was okay because I would become a chronic pain patient. Oh bless my nurse for sharing this with me. Chronic pain - me - oh puuhleeze.
So second opinion time - the lovely Dr Berger who doesn't look for zebras when he hears hoof beats - a guy who understands that scans are not infallible - he actually believed me. The plan now is an upper GI to rule out an ulcer (yeah - right - no reflux, no heartburn....) and if /when that is negative I get a lap chole on Oct 17th. But this was seriously supposed to be post-baby not pre-baby.........
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Mind-body medicine - how did this become stressful
It was supposed to be a busy morning and then I would slope off to the Benson Henry Institute for Mind-Body Medicine at lunch time. Not to be. I left all kinds of frustrated as my pals at a certain drug company would not give me a waiver - puhleeze - Labor Day really is not my fault! Then I get lost - aka the pedestrian GPS tends to throw in that extra quarter mile - I like to think my phone is being proactive in helping me lose weight (10 pounds btw if you happen to keep track of such minutiae).
So I finally make it and have to face something stupid like 30 pages of questions - okay it wasn't really that many but my pager kept going off and I had to deal with so many attending MD egos - all of this when I am trying to get set up in a program that teaches relaxation and awareness and stress reduction so I can achieve the ultimate goal. And seriously I do love my BMT docs and today I do especially love patient CLC - but you were all not my ultimate goal today. My ultimate geoal was get into this program and learn lots of mind-body stuff so I can have a baby.
But what is BHI like? Interesting. The attending was about 12 - seriously either that or I am seriously old. He did a brief physical that did not involve stirrups so Dr. Mehta is my current favorite physician, although when I did lay down I looked for some place to put my feet so my legs were akimbo! Not that kind of office...they are more concerned with how my mind effects my body.
A recap - I work 40-50 hours a week in the office, maybe another 10-15 at home ( I am paid for 40). I worry when I leave, I am dictated to by my email and my pager - I am drowning but I keep finding more projects that absolutely must be done and done perfectly. Add this to 13 years of night shift, and tendency to be a perfectionist and obsessive and OMG I am pretty screwed up. There was a question about time for yourself - I thought about my bubble baths but they are generally shared with a cat or dog so I am not alone.
Oh, and I reinforced my hatred for tabloids and especially Angelina Jolie - although Miss Abstinence Only Education Bristol Palin is up there. So tabloids except for UK Heat are banned, In about 3 months (after Di and and Nate visit) I have to quit drinking (except for hols) until I am knocked up which means until I am knocked up, delivered and done with breast feeding (if the BF Nazi's do get to me - I am planning to strategically avoid them....it will be like playing Age of Empires...)
Part of the program is meditation - so I guess I get to back to obsessing about stains on things while I find the place to focus on. There is yoga which is always good and then there is nutrition - oh bugger - is someone going to please stop by my office at noon each day and remind me that I need to eat, and also remind me the PB on toast is not a good dinner?
The down side to this whole mind and body thing is the group thing - I so haaaatttteeee being in a group. I hope the others are as proactive as me and not too maudlin about their infertility when I am finally at that "Oh let's just deal with it" point.....As for hubster joining in - i think I can persuade him into the whole day yoga for couples retreat (I bought the Wii, am allowing the Wii Fit, have to go through a billion invasive procedures) so it is the least he can do - especially when his sperms swim just fine. BASTARD. Why don't we release more eggs and why do we have a sell by date? So not fair!
But enough - sorry chaps that became an emotional rant. I am seriously hopeful about the Mind-Body Institute - after all the research is there to back this up: relaxation, rest, meditation, nutrition and yoga....so I guess "Fertility Schmertiliy" updates will be Monday or Tueday nights (after each meeting)- although I must point out I am getting a DVR for this so I don't miss Heroes!!! I am still allowed a bit of that Jo selfishness and shallowness....also being that bit cynically selfish does help me cope when "What to do When you are Expecting" sings like a siren song from my desk drawer from one of those months when I got all excited.
And in closing - Sarah Palin did not teach her child appropriate sex ed and given that both she and her hubby hunt I imagine there is a rifle point directly at poor Levi's head. And if she is anti-choice which she chooses to prove by having her child with trisomy 21 then show him off, make him a part of all of this - don't just come onstage with your youngest daughter carrying him. Show us that you mean to care for this special and wonderful baby should you (and the thought does terrify me on so many levels) become our next VP. As for comparisons - 17 year old knocked up daughter, Downs baby - sorry does not compete with the tragedy that Joe Biden faced. Oh and Sarah lose the Tina Fey look- liberals and I assure Tina are a tad miffed....Oh and your first job taking care of 8000 people: over 30,000 work at MGH, there is a condo complex in Manhattan with it's own zip code - oh and you only had your passport for a year - well ain't you just the sweetest darn thing ever. Bless - those damn Aleutian Islands can be so tricky. Oh please. Ladies do not vote for McCain just because of "Miss Sarah" vote for people with real ideas and real ideals and real morals. Go with Obama and Biden. Please....pretty please.....
So I finally make it and have to face something stupid like 30 pages of questions - okay it wasn't really that many but my pager kept going off and I had to deal with so many attending MD egos - all of this when I am trying to get set up in a program that teaches relaxation and awareness and stress reduction so I can achieve the ultimate goal. And seriously I do love my BMT docs and today I do especially love patient CLC - but you were all not my ultimate goal today. My ultimate geoal was get into this program and learn lots of mind-body stuff so I can have a baby.
But what is BHI like? Interesting. The attending was about 12 - seriously either that or I am seriously old. He did a brief physical that did not involve stirrups so Dr. Mehta is my current favorite physician, although when I did lay down I looked for some place to put my feet so my legs were akimbo! Not that kind of office...they are more concerned with how my mind effects my body.
A recap - I work 40-50 hours a week in the office, maybe another 10-15 at home ( I am paid for 40). I worry when I leave, I am dictated to by my email and my pager - I am drowning but I keep finding more projects that absolutely must be done and done perfectly. Add this to 13 years of night shift, and tendency to be a perfectionist and obsessive and OMG I am pretty screwed up. There was a question about time for yourself - I thought about my bubble baths but they are generally shared with a cat or dog so I am not alone.
Oh, and I reinforced my hatred for tabloids and especially Angelina Jolie - although Miss Abstinence Only Education Bristol Palin is up there. So tabloids except for UK Heat are banned, In about 3 months (after Di and and Nate visit) I have to quit drinking (except for hols) until I am knocked up which means until I am knocked up, delivered and done with breast feeding (if the BF Nazi's do get to me - I am planning to strategically avoid them....it will be like playing Age of Empires...)
Part of the program is meditation - so I guess I get to back to obsessing about stains on things while I find the place to focus on. There is yoga which is always good and then there is nutrition - oh bugger - is someone going to please stop by my office at noon each day and remind me that I need to eat, and also remind me the PB on toast is not a good dinner?
The down side to this whole mind and body thing is the group thing - I so haaaatttteeee being in a group. I hope the others are as proactive as me and not too maudlin about their infertility when I am finally at that "Oh let's just deal with it" point.....As for hubster joining in - i think I can persuade him into the whole day yoga for couples retreat (I bought the Wii, am allowing the Wii Fit, have to go through a billion invasive procedures) so it is the least he can do - especially when his sperms swim just fine. BASTARD. Why don't we release more eggs and why do we have a sell by date? So not fair!
But enough - sorry chaps that became an emotional rant. I am seriously hopeful about the Mind-Body Institute - after all the research is there to back this up: relaxation, rest, meditation, nutrition and yoga....so I guess "Fertility Schmertiliy" updates will be Monday or Tueday nights (after each meeting)- although I must point out I am getting a DVR for this so I don't miss Heroes!!! I am still allowed a bit of that Jo selfishness and shallowness....also being that bit cynically selfish does help me cope when "What to do When you are Expecting" sings like a siren song from my desk drawer from one of those months when I got all excited.
And in closing - Sarah Palin did not teach her child appropriate sex ed and given that both she and her hubby hunt I imagine there is a rifle point directly at poor Levi's head. And if she is anti-choice which she chooses to prove by having her child with trisomy 21 then show him off, make him a part of all of this - don't just come onstage with your youngest daughter carrying him. Show us that you mean to care for this special and wonderful baby should you (and the thought does terrify me on so many levels) become our next VP. As for comparisons - 17 year old knocked up daughter, Downs baby - sorry does not compete with the tragedy that Joe Biden faced. Oh and Sarah lose the Tina Fey look- liberals and I assure Tina are a tad miffed....Oh and your first job taking care of 8000 people: over 30,000 work at MGH, there is a condo complex in Manhattan with it's own zip code - oh and you only had your passport for a year - well ain't you just the sweetest darn thing ever. Bless - those damn Aleutian Islands can be so tricky. Oh please. Ladies do not vote for McCain just because of "Miss Sarah" vote for people with real ideas and real ideals and real morals. Go with Obama and Biden. Please....pretty please.....
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Possum Tossing
So as my readers (if I have any except Nessa) know I am not from the USA, and because of that I am not terribly familiar with North American wildlife. I know about coyotes, rattlers, birds, coatis, and even bears and deer - you know stuff that doesn't come in the bloody yard! Now last year when we moved to Boston I discovered opossums and raccoons, and while I have seen them in the neighborhood they have never actually bothered me and raccoons are really, really cute.
So now we move onto my new occupation/skill - please if you are a PETA person stop reading now!
I was sitting on the back porch chatting to my sister in law about maternity clothes and I noticed that the dogs were tossing what I thought was toy between them. It looked like a ducky from Pet Smart. Oh sweet Jesus I suddenly realise that it is not a toy - it is something real! I hang up the phone and dash down to the patio and realize that the "toy" is an opossum. But Jo knows jack about these weird rat/kangaroo creature. I see it looking like it is in full rigor, it seems to gasp a breath - I thought agonal - freaked out - picked it up and tossed it about 30 feet into the parking lot next door. I run inside shaking my hands squealing "We don't have nice dogs, we don't have nice dogs"
Robert comes out - goes over to the "dead possum" - and points out that possums play dead - hence the term "playing possum". He flips the critter into a pet carrier and leaves it on the side porch. Lo and behold 2 hours later there is a very pissed off very much alive opossum sitting in a pet carrier baring it's 50 teeth at us!
The possum has now run away to safer dog and possum tosser free pastures! So I am now officially a "possum tosser"
So now we move onto my new occupation/skill - please if you are a PETA person stop reading now!
I was sitting on the back porch chatting to my sister in law about maternity clothes and I noticed that the dogs were tossing what I thought was toy between them. It looked like a ducky from Pet Smart. Oh sweet Jesus I suddenly realise that it is not a toy - it is something real! I hang up the phone and dash down to the patio and realize that the "toy" is an opossum. But Jo knows jack about these weird rat/kangaroo creature. I see it looking like it is in full rigor, it seems to gasp a breath - I thought agonal - freaked out - picked it up and tossed it about 30 feet into the parking lot next door. I run inside shaking my hands squealing "We don't have nice dogs, we don't have nice dogs"
Robert comes out - goes over to the "dead possum" - and points out that possums play dead - hence the term "playing possum". He flips the critter into a pet carrier and leaves it on the side porch. Lo and behold 2 hours later there is a very pissed off very much alive opossum sitting in a pet carrier baring it's 50 teeth at us!
The possum has now run away to safer dog and possum tosser free pastures! So I am now officially a "possum tosser"
Monday, August 25, 2008
A whole week without drama in the 'hood
So the 17 year old who was shot last week is doing okay, and the 4 year old is apparently doing okay too, off the vent and progressing. A 19 year old known gang banger has been arraigned - apparently he has a very long history of gang violence. Awesome - so why are these kids wandering around unfettered by the norms of a decent society. I must admit I have been raised to be very tolerant of other people, and to respect other people but I have to admit that I am having some issues lately - don't know if it's age or just being surrounded by so much stuff that just seems wrong.
Our next door neighbors are Muslims, now in the grand scheme of things given everything that has happened in the past few years one would expect us to be a little leery. No, we're not - they are the most lovely people we have met. They are friendly, funny. engaging and their children are just the most polite and respectful kids ever.
So when am I nervous? Well now, walking past Bragdon St I get a chill. (Foolishly I decided that I would walk down the back lane after picking up the Sunday papers - still could smell cordite and could easily see the bullet holes.). Groups of young guys in very baggy pants, with tats and their do-rags and baseball hats, especially with cell phones on walky talky settings. Any group of young guys hanging out in yards or on porches in wife beaters and baseball shorts drinking with hip hop blasting. I know I am racially profiling people and there is a part of me that hates myself for it, but at the same time what else can I do? The entire culture is set up around gang culture, and even if many of these kids are not affiliated they are pose in the thug life and walk the walk and talk the talk so what else am I supposed to do?
The events of the past 10 days have really pushed us to think more seriously about buying. So on Saturday we went to look at what we thought was a lovely old 5 bedroom Victorian in Fitchburg. We were so in love with this house - it has a turret! So we drive the 50 miles through some super pretty country, and then came Fitchburg. Okay so we get there and it is kinda tatty, (a bit like that drive into Prescott), but you know it's the outskirts, maybe by the house it'll be different cutesy and arty as it is supposed to be close to the state college. WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. Ugly, ugly, ugly, ugly. We drive up poorly maintained roads that are steep and winding. We see quite a few folk who look like they should live on Bragdon St. Then we find the dream house - not such a dream - peeling paint, higgledy piggledy and money pit screaming from every dusty window. And it is only walking distance to the college and the commuter rail if you have a sled or downhill skis in the winter. Then as we are leaving we go past the homies with their wife beaters and baggy pants, drinking their beer on the front porch with the hip hop blasting from the SUV. Talk about home away from home!
So we are now firmly looking only at places east of 295 - preferably Plymouth, Salem or Gloucester. A year I hope - Christmas next year ideally we will be out new home - our home with no landlords or landladies, no gang bangers, no kids with air pistols, no gang tags on every corner.
Our next door neighbors are Muslims, now in the grand scheme of things given everything that has happened in the past few years one would expect us to be a little leery. No, we're not - they are the most lovely people we have met. They are friendly, funny. engaging and their children are just the most polite and respectful kids ever.
So when am I nervous? Well now, walking past Bragdon St I get a chill. (Foolishly I decided that I would walk down the back lane after picking up the Sunday papers - still could smell cordite and could easily see the bullet holes.). Groups of young guys in very baggy pants, with tats and their do-rags and baseball hats, especially with cell phones on walky talky settings. Any group of young guys hanging out in yards or on porches in wife beaters and baseball shorts drinking with hip hop blasting. I know I am racially profiling people and there is a part of me that hates myself for it, but at the same time what else can I do? The entire culture is set up around gang culture, and even if many of these kids are not affiliated they are pose in the thug life and walk the walk and talk the talk so what else am I supposed to do?
The events of the past 10 days have really pushed us to think more seriously about buying. So on Saturday we went to look at what we thought was a lovely old 5 bedroom Victorian in Fitchburg. We were so in love with this house - it has a turret! So we drive the 50 miles through some super pretty country, and then came Fitchburg. Okay so we get there and it is kinda tatty, (a bit like that drive into Prescott), but you know it's the outskirts, maybe by the house it'll be different cutesy and arty as it is supposed to be close to the state college. WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. Ugly, ugly, ugly, ugly. We drive up poorly maintained roads that are steep and winding. We see quite a few folk who look like they should live on Bragdon St. Then we find the dream house - not such a dream - peeling paint, higgledy piggledy and money pit screaming from every dusty window. And it is only walking distance to the college and the commuter rail if you have a sled or downhill skis in the winter. Then as we are leaving we go past the homies with their wife beaters and baggy pants, drinking their beer on the front porch with the hip hop blasting from the SUV. Talk about home away from home!
So we are now firmly looking only at places east of 295 - preferably Plymouth, Salem or Gloucester. A year I hope - Christmas next year ideally we will be out new home - our home with no landlords or landladies, no gang bangers, no kids with air pistols, no gang tags on every corner.
Monday, August 18, 2008
THE DRAMA JUST NEVER ENDS
So, sitting on the couch in a lovely post-anesthesia, post percocet haze watching Charlie Bartlett (great movie by the way), Robert notices that there is a police car outside, with the lights flashing. Now bearing in mind we had heard no sirens (for those of you who either live her or have visited us you know this is odd), so being totally nosey we go outside to take a peak. Oh my God it is like a cross between Law and Order and CSI. There are cruisers, there are plain clothes officers, there is a dog, and they are combing the parking lot in front of the house and the back lane over that way with flash lights. The out comes the crime scene do not cross tape - now this covers the whole of the parking lot and we look up the hill and it is cordoned off there too. Now given the incident last week I ask the officers if everything is okay - the answer (to my mind at least) a somewhat facetitous "It's fine now we're here". So we just watch, and watch. Finally since I need to buy some post-op accessories we have to go to the Walgreens, and BOOM we find out what is going on.
There has been a shooting at 25 Bragdon St - just round the corner from us - seriously about 1/2 a block away. Now this house has always given me the willies - just too many folks coming and going at odd hours, the kids (about 5 and 6) all up to late, too many folk hanging around outside - just a little off. And to be honest I had started calling it the "crack house".
All we know so far is that the 5 year old little boy and his 17 year old cousin had been shot on the back porch - apparently by another 17 year old. Oh YAY - I am so glad I have the meds on board right now 'cause I would probably be totally freaking out.
We give it a year now then we are out of here - I finally have that real motivation to save seriously. There is no way in hell that I am letting my baby be raised here. Seriously even Rodrigo across the street who was raised here in Roxbury wants out...North Shore or South Shore - I don't care just somewhere a little less diverse and a little less likely to expose us to this much violence.
There has been a shooting at 25 Bragdon St - just round the corner from us - seriously about 1/2 a block away. Now this house has always given me the willies - just too many folks coming and going at odd hours, the kids (about 5 and 6) all up to late, too many folk hanging around outside - just a little off. And to be honest I had started calling it the "crack house".
All we know so far is that the 5 year old little boy and his 17 year old cousin had been shot on the back porch - apparently by another 17 year old. Oh YAY - I am so glad I have the meds on board right now 'cause I would probably be totally freaking out.
We give it a year now then we are out of here - I finally have that real motivation to save seriously. There is no way in hell that I am letting my baby be raised here. Seriously even Rodrigo across the street who was raised here in Roxbury wants out...North Shore or South Shore - I don't care just somewhere a little less diverse and a little less likely to expose us to this much violence.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
What a week
It is easier to just number the things that have happened in the past 7 - 14 days.
1. We saw an MBTA sitting at a red light suddenly decide to just drive through the light
2. Keyspan/National Grid (whatever they are called now) charged us $900 for a month of gas
and are trying to say the bill is accurate. Oh and now their website is down.
3. We had to call the police because 3 kids were firing air pistols at the house
4. My landlady really hates me - and I am blaming #2 for that one
5. Work is out of control
6. I saw a homeless dude laying on the sidewalk outside of Borders with his willy out peeing.
7. We had another power outage with no explaination from NSTAR
8. I am very tired and have to have surgery in the morning
1. We saw an MBTA sitting at a red light suddenly decide to just drive through the light
2. Keyspan/National Grid (whatever they are called now) charged us $900 for a month of gas
and are trying to say the bill is accurate. Oh and now their website is down.
3. We had to call the police because 3 kids were firing air pistols at the house
4. My landlady really hates me - and I am blaming #2 for that one
5. Work is out of control
6. I saw a homeless dude laying on the sidewalk outside of Borders with his willy out peeing.
7. We had another power outage with no explaination from NSTAR
8. I am very tired and have to have surgery in the morning
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Time for genreal anesthesia
So off we got to see Dr. Styer for my pre-op appointment ready for my hysteroscopic myomectomy. Robert actually comes with me as he is finally realizes that I am a total and utter basket case about this. I am wound up leaving the house as we had had to call the police last night because of the teenagers shooting their air pistols/BB guns whatever you want to call them at the house. I wasn't actually that scared until I looked out the kitchen window and one of the little bastards was pointing his pistol at me. I have visions of coming home to at best a severely egged house at worst windows out or the house jusy burned down. Oh God we need to move. All this happens just a day or so after my landlady has been asking if we would ever consider buying the house! Puhleeze.
But enough of our ghetto adventures. We get to yawkey 10, and the adorabel MA takes us back to the exam room. Oh oh - something is wrong here - the ultrasound machine is there. I look at her - I am sure my eyes are like saucers.
"Am I having an scan?" I squeek
"Oh yes, he just wants to do one more pre-op"
Robert beats a hasty retreat to the waiting room, while I once again undress from the waist down, worry because I haven't shaved my legs, lie on the tabel, cover myself with the paper sheet and put my feet inthe stirrups. I don't even have to be directed to the right position anymore - my butt just wiggles into place.
Now I will give Dr. S credit it was far less painful than when the radiologist did a hysterosonogram but all the same to sneak one up on a girl - no fair!
But surgery is scheduled for Monday August 18th. I am truely scared and I don't really know why. I trust him, it is minor compared to other surgeries I have had yet I am nauseous with fear and anxiety. There are so many what ifs circling my brain right now. I know I need to sleep but I am so totally overwhelmed with all of this now.
But enough of our ghetto adventures. We get to yawkey 10, and the adorabel MA takes us back to the exam room. Oh oh - something is wrong here - the ultrasound machine is there. I look at her - I am sure my eyes are like saucers.
"Am I having an scan?" I squeek
"Oh yes, he just wants to do one more pre-op"
Robert beats a hasty retreat to the waiting room, while I once again undress from the waist down, worry because I haven't shaved my legs, lie on the tabel, cover myself with the paper sheet and put my feet inthe stirrups. I don't even have to be directed to the right position anymore - my butt just wiggles into place.
Now I will give Dr. S credit it was far less painful than when the radiologist did a hysterosonogram but all the same to sneak one up on a girl - no fair!
But surgery is scheduled for Monday August 18th. I am truely scared and I don't really know why. I trust him, it is minor compared to other surgeries I have had yet I am nauseous with fear and anxiety. There are so many what ifs circling my brain right now. I know I need to sleep but I am so totally overwhelmed with all of this now.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Holding it together - but barely
So I have spent the past week alternating between ecstatic and utterly miserable. I have also spent some of that miserable time feeling as if I am the most selfish cow on the planet for being miserable? Why all these tangled emotions you ask?
No it had nothing to do with the very public arrival of the Brangelina babies, or the fact that every magazine (barring good old Heat) is obsessed with the latest celebrity baby bump, baby delivery and post-baby amazing body, although I must point out that all of this irritates me beyond all reason. I have even stopped buying them, and retired from my Saturday morning E Television fests.
No the reason for the up and down mood was the absolutely blessed news that my sister-in-law is pregnant. I am genuinely thrilled for her and her hubby, and I know that they will be great parents. However....when she told me I burst into tears, and that of course upset the already hormonally charged mom to be, pissed off my dear hubby (he thought I was being selfish), got my mum out of bed at 0100 (GMT), and generally caused a whole lot of whoo haaa that lasted into the middle of the week.
I was good - I did call my sister-in-law back and tell her I was sorry for crying and that I was genuinely thrilled for her, but it was quite unbelieveably hard. But it was done. Then I spent big chunks of Monday and Tuesday crying on Karen's shoulder.
My mum on the other hand resrted to the "pull yourself together" school of maternal outreach everytime I tried to explain how utterly miserable I was and how no matter how happy I am for the new arrival early next year it really does nothing more than reinforce the fact that it does not seem to be happening for me. I don't think she quite understood. In the end I sent both sets of parents (not the expectant ones - just mine and his) an email explaining how I feel - here it is:
Look
I am doing okay - I am appropriately sad - given the circumstances. Had I known M and S were trying it would have been less of a shock to me as it was it was kind of like being sucker punched. Please don't get me wrong I am absolutely thrilled and delighted for them both and I know they will be awesome parents. I am trying my best to gracious and grown up. I don't want everyone walking on egg shells and being scared that "I'll do something silly". It would be better for me if everyone could just get over those moments of stupidity in my past like I did. No talking about the new baby is not going to be helpful, so please don't avoid talking about it. Last month I was 3 days late - and I allowed myself to foolishly get excited.
Robert is doing his best to be there for me, but with the best will in the world he is a guy and he doesn't quite get it. But please don't think that he isn't being supportive - he is.
This whole situation is very hard work and is a lot to deal with so I am trying to focus my energies on other things - like work, like the book I am playing at writing, like working in the house, and preparing myself psychologically for the surgery - even though it is minor I have to prepare myself. I am also waiting to hear back from the mind-body medicine program here at MGH as they have an infertility program, it involves CBT, yoga, meditation and is a 12 week program. It is something proactive that I can do. Just as I will continue to see Dr. Meminger and Parekh, and Dr. Styer and the nutritionist and everyone else who I have to see. I will continue to try to lose weight and get in shape physically - hey I already lost quite a bit.
I love you all very much, and all I need right now is to hear "It's okay" I don't need to be told how to feel, or what is appropriate or inappropriate for me to feel. I have spent much of this past couple of months feeling very lost and scared and unless you have been facing the thought of never being able to do the one thing in life you always thought you would do (especially with a history like mine) you really can't understand. This is something that is out of my control and I don't like that, I don't like not being able to find a solution and fix it myself. I feel betrayed by own body. I know I am a nurse, but remember I am highly specialized - my knowledge of Ob-gyn is the same as anyone else - it is overwhelming and very scary as I don't quite get it all - Poor Dr. Styer does his best but eventually all I hear is "blah, blah, blah, no clomid, ovarian reserve too low, blah blah blah unlike to happen without help, blah, blah, blah go straight to injectables"
Please don't even begin to try to say to me that maybe children aren't in the plan the fates have me - really that just annoys me and of all the platitudes that is the most hurtful, and I already hate every other platitude - from relax and it will happen to the stories everyone has about their friends sisters cousin...
I see teenagers wrangling their broods and I am so angry I can hardly speak, because they are barely adults themselves. I see famous people popping out babies and adopting all over the place and all I feel is absolute fury at how unfair it is that just because they are rich they are some how more worthy. I resent my career even because I have devoted so much of my life to that and time just flew by and suddenly it seems as if I missed my chance.
So there you have it - that is pretty much how I feel right now. It comes and goes - I was quite jolly and happy this morning, and as the day has worn on my mood has worsened, but it will no doubt improve again.
Love from Jo
That took quite some doing let me tell you. Just rereading it now makes me want to cry and really I am just so sick of crying.
So what have I done about it? I am scheduled to meet with the mind-body medicine folks to see if I can get into their program, I bought a how-to on writing the break out novel, and I bought a really pretty cross stitch that I am doing for my niece/nephew's nursery. It is something.
I talked to my parents on Saturday and they studiously avoided the subject - just offered to fly out after my surgery - I politely declined. I haven't talked to my sister-in-law or mother-in-law since then. I talk to Nessa. And actually Robert and I have started talking about it some more. I think he is going to come to Dr.Styer's with me on Wednesday when I sign the consent forms - more so he can hear it from the horses mouth as it were about the difficulties we are facing. I am trying to get ready psychologically for my surgery but unfortunately all that does is make me worry about complications - what if I bleed out? What if I end up needing an emergent hysterectomy? I have had so much surgery in the past for all the ortho disasters but I have never ever been this terrified in my life.
No it had nothing to do with the very public arrival of the Brangelina babies, or the fact that every magazine (barring good old Heat) is obsessed with the latest celebrity baby bump, baby delivery and post-baby amazing body, although I must point out that all of this irritates me beyond all reason. I have even stopped buying them, and retired from my Saturday morning E Television fests.
No the reason for the up and down mood was the absolutely blessed news that my sister-in-law is pregnant. I am genuinely thrilled for her and her hubby, and I know that they will be great parents. However....when she told me I burst into tears, and that of course upset the already hormonally charged mom to be, pissed off my dear hubby (he thought I was being selfish), got my mum out of bed at 0100 (GMT), and generally caused a whole lot of whoo haaa that lasted into the middle of the week.
I was good - I did call my sister-in-law back and tell her I was sorry for crying and that I was genuinely thrilled for her, but it was quite unbelieveably hard. But it was done. Then I spent big chunks of Monday and Tuesday crying on Karen's shoulder.
My mum on the other hand resrted to the "pull yourself together" school of maternal outreach everytime I tried to explain how utterly miserable I was and how no matter how happy I am for the new arrival early next year it really does nothing more than reinforce the fact that it does not seem to be happening for me. I don't think she quite understood. In the end I sent both sets of parents (not the expectant ones - just mine and his) an email explaining how I feel - here it is:
Look
I am doing okay - I am appropriately sad - given the circumstances. Had I known M and S were trying it would have been less of a shock to me as it was it was kind of like being sucker punched. Please don't get me wrong I am absolutely thrilled and delighted for them both and I know they will be awesome parents. I am trying my best to gracious and grown up. I don't want everyone walking on egg shells and being scared that "I'll do something silly". It would be better for me if everyone could just get over those moments of stupidity in my past like I did. No talking about the new baby is not going to be helpful, so please don't avoid talking about it. Last month I was 3 days late - and I allowed myself to foolishly get excited.
Robert is doing his best to be there for me, but with the best will in the world he is a guy and he doesn't quite get it. But please don't think that he isn't being supportive - he is.
This whole situation is very hard work and is a lot to deal with so I am trying to focus my energies on other things - like work, like the book I am playing at writing, like working in the house, and preparing myself psychologically for the surgery - even though it is minor I have to prepare myself. I am also waiting to hear back from the mind-body medicine program here at MGH as they have an infertility program, it involves CBT, yoga, meditation and is a 12 week program. It is something proactive that I can do. Just as I will continue to see Dr. Meminger and Parekh, and Dr. Styer and the nutritionist and everyone else who I have to see. I will continue to try to lose weight and get in shape physically - hey I already lost quite a bit.
I love you all very much, and all I need right now is to hear "It's okay" I don't need to be told how to feel, or what is appropriate or inappropriate for me to feel. I have spent much of this past couple of months feeling very lost and scared and unless you have been facing the thought of never being able to do the one thing in life you always thought you would do (especially with a history like mine) you really can't understand. This is something that is out of my control and I don't like that, I don't like not being able to find a solution and fix it myself. I feel betrayed by own body. I know I am a nurse, but remember I am highly specialized - my knowledge of Ob-gyn is the same as anyone else - it is overwhelming and very scary as I don't quite get it all - Poor Dr. Styer does his best but eventually all I hear is "blah, blah, blah, no clomid, ovarian reserve too low, blah blah blah unlike to happen without help, blah, blah, blah go straight to injectables"
Please don't even begin to try to say to me that maybe children aren't in the plan the fates have me - really that just annoys me and of all the platitudes that is the most hurtful, and I already hate every other platitude - from relax and it will happen to the stories everyone has about their friends sisters cousin...
I see teenagers wrangling their broods and I am so angry I can hardly speak, because they are barely adults themselves. I see famous people popping out babies and adopting all over the place and all I feel is absolute fury at how unfair it is that just because they are rich they are some how more worthy. I resent my career even because I have devoted so much of my life to that and time just flew by and suddenly it seems as if I missed my chance.
So there you have it - that is pretty much how I feel right now. It comes and goes - I was quite jolly and happy this morning, and as the day has worn on my mood has worsened, but it will no doubt improve again.
Love from Jo
That took quite some doing let me tell you. Just rereading it now makes me want to cry and really I am just so sick of crying.
So what have I done about it? I am scheduled to meet with the mind-body medicine folks to see if I can get into their program, I bought a how-to on writing the break out novel, and I bought a really pretty cross stitch that I am doing for my niece/nephew's nursery. It is something.
I talked to my parents on Saturday and they studiously avoided the subject - just offered to fly out after my surgery - I politely declined. I haven't talked to my sister-in-law or mother-in-law since then. I talk to Nessa. And actually Robert and I have started talking about it some more. I think he is going to come to Dr.Styer's with me on Wednesday when I sign the consent forms - more so he can hear it from the horses mouth as it were about the difficulties we are facing. I am trying to get ready psychologically for my surgery but unfortunately all that does is make me worry about complications - what if I bleed out? What if I end up needing an emergent hysterectomy? I have had so much surgery in the past for all the ortho disasters but I have never ever been this terrified in my life.
Monday, August 4, 2008
So very sad and frustrated
So last night we got such happy and wonderful news. My gorgeous sister-in-law is pregnant. 13 weeks, due in February. I was trying so hard to be gracious and what did I do? I burst into tears. Then because I cried I became the selfish person who upset the pregnant girl. A girl just can't win.
So how am I really feeling? Numb I guess, frustrated, old, tired and really, really lost and alone. I keep hearing all the old caveats and want to scream - scream at everyone who gives me one of those pieces of advice. So here is my advice to everyone who wants to reassure someone who is dealing infertlity:
1, Never say "Your turn will come"
2, We don't want to know about your sister's friend's cousin twice removed who adopted and then fell pregnant on her own
3, We don't want to know about your friend who had accupuncture and drank Chinese herbal teas and got pregnant
4, Please don't tell us "well you can just adopt" - I don't have that kind of financial resources
5, Please don't tell us "oh just relax and it will happen"
What we want is for you hug us when we're sad, not treat us as if we are made of the most brittle china in the world. We want you to ask us how things are going, we don't want you to worry about how to tell us that you are pregnant - that just makes us feel more isolated.
This is very painful. Every month there is another invasive procedure, another blood test, another scan, another reassuring pat on the hand from the reproductive endocrinologist, another feeling of utter despair when you get your period. Another feeling of failure. You see no matter how successful any of us are professionally we cannot recognize those successes right now. Our whole chemical make-up is going haywire right now. Oh we know how successful we are academically, professionally etc, but we still feel like utter failures as women because we cannot do the one thing that every women should be able to do.
So how am I really feeling? Numb I guess, frustrated, old, tired and really, really lost and alone. I keep hearing all the old caveats and want to scream - scream at everyone who gives me one of those pieces of advice. So here is my advice to everyone who wants to reassure someone who is dealing infertlity:
1, Never say "Your turn will come"
2, We don't want to know about your sister's friend's cousin twice removed who adopted and then fell pregnant on her own
3, We don't want to know about your friend who had accupuncture and drank Chinese herbal teas and got pregnant
4, Please don't tell us "well you can just adopt" - I don't have that kind of financial resources
5, Please don't tell us "oh just relax and it will happen"
What we want is for you hug us when we're sad, not treat us as if we are made of the most brittle china in the world. We want you to ask us how things are going, we don't want you to worry about how to tell us that you are pregnant - that just makes us feel more isolated.
This is very painful. Every month there is another invasive procedure, another blood test, another scan, another reassuring pat on the hand from the reproductive endocrinologist, another feeling of utter despair when you get your period. Another feeling of failure. You see no matter how successful any of us are professionally we cannot recognize those successes right now. Our whole chemical make-up is going haywire right now. Oh we know how successful we are academically, professionally etc, but we still feel like utter failures as women because we cannot do the one thing that every women should be able to do.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Oh the things they don't tell you
So I had to have the hysteroscopy - I did what I was told. I took 800mg of ibuprofen and I even threw in a couple of xanax. I was prepared. I was even lotioned and smelling really good. So I get to Yawkey 10 and am greeted by the usual cheery MA. I get taken back to Pod 2 for my vitals and the prerequisite pee in a cup. Seriously guys my serum HCG was just negative in the space of 24 hours it will not have changed. But what are ou going to do?
I am then taken into the "procedure room" and begin the usual process of stripping to the waist and settling in to the stirrups with my terribly trendy paper sheet. I meet (I apologize - I cannot remember any of your names and you were all terribly sweet), a very pretty blonde doc arrives - is she a resident? an intern? a fellow? I don't know, but she was very nice. Then came the attending who kid of resembled Abby's sponsor on ER (Isn't she an OB-GYN too - ah the irony). She is there "to hold my hand" - oh that's not good. If I need a hand holder surely I need something a little more powerful drug wise???? Oh and sweet Jesus I did. I have a pretty high pain threshold - I am the girl who drove across the country with a clavicle in 2 pieces, who went back to work 2 weeks after having that plated. I like to think that I am pretty tough. To say I am now dreading child birth is an understatement. This test (and all for 2 polaroid pictures of my uterine peach - seriously that's what the problematic fibroid looked like) was the most incredibly mind blowingly painful thing ever. I wish I had to the vocabulary to explain this. If anyone reading this needs to have this test please, please ask your doc for the following:
1-2mg of morphine or at least a couple of percocet
1-2 mg of ativan or 0.5mg of xanax
Oh - and warnings of how much it hurts - and how you will probably have cramps for about 3 days and that you will bleed. Little things maybe but not to a patient. I do wonder if some of it is because I am a nurse that people forget to explain things, and maybe I don't ask enough questions so I don't look stupid.
So what's the plan now?
I have to have a hysteroscopic myomectomy (I am assuming this is the correct bname of the procedure - don't ask, don't tell again). I heard the word hysteroscopic and felt my eyes get huge
--- Am I awake? I ask, sure the terror is showing on my face
---Oh no, you have a GA for this, it is day surgery, takes 1-2 hours, you can go back to work the
next day. Dr. Styer tells me, with his usual reassuring charm; We go in and shave off the part
of the fibroid that is pushing into your uterus. Afterwards you will have high dosse hormones
to encourage the uterine wall to come back and you will also have a little pedi foley in your
uterus for 5-6 days, this will stop adhesions - think of it like plastic surgery for your uterus.
We are making it better and ready for a baby.
It is really a good job that he is hot, that's all I can say, especially when he goes straight into what we do next, about actually getting me pregnant. Well we can try on our own of course, but that probably won't work - my ovarian reserve just ain't that good. He tells me that clomid will probably not be an option and after Christmas we will go straight to injections and at that point everything became blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. I have to have help - that is all I hear.
And then Cheryl calls me to tell me I need to go back on the pill with my next cycle ready for the surgery. I am very confused. I am also more scared than I have ever been in my entire life. I am lost - I can turn to the internet but that just scares me more - there are so many things, so many drugs, so many options. I want an A to Z, I want a glossary, I want someone to hold my hand and tell me that I will have baby at some point.
And then to see this tonight - this just pissed me off - I feel that this really is men makeing decisions and a return to patriarchy. yes every woman should not smoke when pregnant and ideally none of us would be heavy but you know what that's life. Is this really any different from a man telling us we have no right to choose?
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/7523172.stm
I am then taken into the "procedure room" and begin the usual process of stripping to the waist and settling in to the stirrups with my terribly trendy paper sheet. I meet (I apologize - I cannot remember any of your names and you were all terribly sweet), a very pretty blonde doc arrives - is she a resident? an intern? a fellow? I don't know, but she was very nice. Then came the attending who kid of resembled Abby's sponsor on ER (Isn't she an OB-GYN too - ah the irony). She is there "to hold my hand" - oh that's not good. If I need a hand holder surely I need something a little more powerful drug wise???? Oh and sweet Jesus I did. I have a pretty high pain threshold - I am the girl who drove across the country with a clavicle in 2 pieces, who went back to work 2 weeks after having that plated. I like to think that I am pretty tough. To say I am now dreading child birth is an understatement. This test (and all for 2 polaroid pictures of my uterine peach - seriously that's what the problematic fibroid looked like) was the most incredibly mind blowingly painful thing ever. I wish I had to the vocabulary to explain this. If anyone reading this needs to have this test please, please ask your doc for the following:
1-2mg of morphine or at least a couple of percocet
1-2 mg of ativan or 0.5mg of xanax
Oh - and warnings of how much it hurts - and how you will probably have cramps for about 3 days and that you will bleed. Little things maybe but not to a patient. I do wonder if some of it is because I am a nurse that people forget to explain things, and maybe I don't ask enough questions so I don't look stupid.
So what's the plan now?
I have to have a hysteroscopic myomectomy (I am assuming this is the correct bname of the procedure - don't ask, don't tell again). I heard the word hysteroscopic and felt my eyes get huge
--- Am I awake? I ask, sure the terror is showing on my face
---Oh no, you have a GA for this, it is day surgery, takes 1-2 hours, you can go back to work the
next day. Dr. Styer tells me, with his usual reassuring charm; We go in and shave off the part
of the fibroid that is pushing into your uterus. Afterwards you will have high dosse hormones
to encourage the uterine wall to come back and you will also have a little pedi foley in your
uterus for 5-6 days, this will stop adhesions - think of it like plastic surgery for your uterus.
We are making it better and ready for a baby.
It is really a good job that he is hot, that's all I can say, especially when he goes straight into what we do next, about actually getting me pregnant. Well we can try on our own of course, but that probably won't work - my ovarian reserve just ain't that good. He tells me that clomid will probably not be an option and after Christmas we will go straight to injections and at that point everything became blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. I have to have help - that is all I hear.
And then Cheryl calls me to tell me I need to go back on the pill with my next cycle ready for the surgery. I am very confused. I am also more scared than I have ever been in my entire life. I am lost - I can turn to the internet but that just scares me more - there are so many things, so many drugs, so many options. I want an A to Z, I want a glossary, I want someone to hold my hand and tell me that I will have baby at some point.
And then to see this tonight - this just pissed me off - I feel that this really is men makeing decisions and a return to patriarchy. yes every woman should not smoke when pregnant and ideally none of us would be heavy but you know what that's life. Is this really any different from a man telling us we have no right to choose?
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/7523172.stm
Thursday, July 10, 2008
And back on the pregnancy roller coaster we go
So I have my labs drawn this morning - as there is still no sign of my "vistitor" as my mum would say. No nausea this morning, slightly sore boobs. So I am technically now 3 days late. We all wait with baited breath - and wouldn't you know it the damn quantitative HCG was <6 - confirmed the pee test from a couple of days ago. Not pregnant again. I was so zen about it at first, made myself think about how it is more important to fix my fibroids and everything else first and then after putting my bid in on the book we have for one of the girls at work I kind of fell apart. it does seem however that in m y little corner of this city where I work I am definately not alone. One of my colleagues is going through it so we did get to vent a bit together. Here are some tips for those of you who have children:
1, If you are seeking fertility treatment for another one please don't bring the 1st , 2nd or which ever other child to clinic with you - it just rubs it in for the rest of us.
2, Little girls in Gloucester - get over yourselves
3, Angelie Jolie - just stop. You have adopted 3, given birth to 1 and now you get to have twins. (don't even get me started onthe fact that you got brad Pitt too)
4, Tabloids - enough of the "bump watches" already. Brtiney is not pregnant again - that's her meds doing that to her - it happens. Paris if she is pregnanct oh God help us there really is no justice in the world.
Maybe I should do the following:
1, Make out with my brother at an awards ceremony
2, Marry a white trash guy in a wife beater (yes Kevin Federline I mean you)
3, Weigh 80 pounds
4, Drink and drive
5, Snort lots of coke and take lots of vicodin
6, Shave my head in public
7, Find L.Ron Hubbards stash of sperm (I assume Tom and katioe know where it is)
Ah. vent over feel a bit better about my rebellious uterus, poor responder, limited egg producing ovaries for now at least. Oh, but I am genuinely pleased for Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban.
1, If you are seeking fertility treatment for another one please don't bring the 1st , 2nd or which ever other child to clinic with you - it just rubs it in for the rest of us.
2, Little girls in Gloucester - get over yourselves
3, Angelie Jolie - just stop. You have adopted 3, given birth to 1 and now you get to have twins. (don't even get me started onthe fact that you got brad Pitt too)
4, Tabloids - enough of the "bump watches" already. Brtiney is not pregnant again - that's her meds doing that to her - it happens. Paris if she is pregnanct oh God help us there really is no justice in the world.
Maybe I should do the following:
1, Make out with my brother at an awards ceremony
2, Marry a white trash guy in a wife beater (yes Kevin Federline I mean you)
3, Weigh 80 pounds
4, Drink and drive
5, Snort lots of coke and take lots of vicodin
6, Shave my head in public
7, Find L.Ron Hubbards stash of sperm (I assume Tom and katioe know where it is)
Ah. vent over feel a bit better about my rebellious uterus, poor responder, limited egg producing ovaries for now at least. Oh, but I am genuinely pleased for Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Email to the amazing Cheryl
Hi Cheryl
So I was getting myself all ready for the hysteroscopy but now I find I am 2 days late as of today. It has been a really stressful week so I don't know if that is contributing. I will be honest OB was not my fave subject when I did it 20 years in nursing school so I didn't pay attention......
After being so frustrated for so many months I am now just baffled - I am thinking stress, I really am pregnant or I am turning into pseudocyesis chick, ether that or menopause.......
My LMP was 6/11/2008. I started getting really nauseous Sunday, it's almost like a motion sickness. I wake up feeling sick and have to lay still for at least 30 minutes before I get up, drink water but can't eat for at least an hour and I am a total breakfast freak. I did a pregnancy test yesterday - it was negative. It was not first thing, and I think I was a little dry so it wasn't that great a sample. Today I am still nauseous - had a favourite for dinner and it didn't taste right (nor did my favourite pizza on Sunday) and have this right lower quadrant pain that is intermittent but really sharp when I get it. I have had no spotting, no PMS type symptoms and I am usually very moody and weepy.
I still have to get my Hep B repeated tomorrow so should I add a HCG just in case?
Sorry if I sound neurotic but I am (after wanting this for so long) a little freaked out and I don't know what to do.....
Can you call me in my office tomorrow?
Thanks and I am so sorry to be a pest
Jo
So I was getting myself all ready for the hysteroscopy but now I find I am 2 days late as of today. It has been a really stressful week so I don't know if that is contributing. I will be honest OB was not my fave subject when I did it 20 years in nursing school so I didn't pay attention......
After being so frustrated for so many months I am now just baffled - I am thinking stress, I really am pregnant or I am turning into pseudocyesis chick, ether that or menopause.......
My LMP was 6/11/2008. I started getting really nauseous Sunday, it's almost like a motion sickness. I wake up feeling sick and have to lay still for at least 30 minutes before I get up, drink water but can't eat for at least an hour and I am a total breakfast freak. I did a pregnancy test yesterday - it was negative. It was not first thing, and I think I was a little dry so it wasn't that great a sample. Today I am still nauseous - had a favourite for dinner and it didn't taste right (nor did my favourite pizza on Sunday) and have this right lower quadrant pain that is intermittent but really sharp when I get it. I have had no spotting, no PMS type symptoms and I am usually very moody and weepy.
I still have to get my Hep B repeated tomorrow so should I add a HCG just in case?
Sorry if I sound neurotic but I am (after wanting this for so long) a little freaked out and I don't know what to do.....
Can you call me in my office tomorrow?
Thanks and I am so sorry to be a pest
Jo
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Unless you have a cervix you don't have an opinion
So off I go to Philadelphia for Congress, and wouldn’t you know it I get my period while I am there so bang goes day 3 and day 6 anything for May. I reschedule my appointment with the doc and try to push it out of my mind. I haven’t had any more months where I have convinced of pregnancy and I am trying not to think about it. I am working on the assumption that if I just relax it will happen.
Vanessa comes to visit, we have a blast. I kind of view her trip as my final fling. She leaves I stop drinking altogether, make an appointment with the nutritionist – I need to get this weight off –and vow to spend six months doing whatever I need to do to get in shape. Losing weight will be good – I’ll feel better, I’ll look better and my fertility will improve. I don’t expect to ever be a size 0 or even a size 8 – but a 12 or a 14 would be lovely. I get my period at a convenient time so I finally get all of the tests done. The blood draw is fine although the volumes were a little shocking. I have a whole new respect for my patients when I take 75 – 100 mL off them. Then there was the hysterosonogram. Oh sweet Jesus. That was the most painful thing ever. I was told to expect some mild cramping. Mild? It felt like my ovary was going to come out of belly. The lovely young Fellow tried to be gentle but seriously with a speculum, a catheter in your cervix, a uterus with saline in it, and a vaginal ultrasound – it hurts! He tries to reassure me
“I’m taking the speculum out now and your cervix will relax and it won’t be so uncomfortable” he says in his soft reassuring voice.
I peer over my knees and reply “How do you know? You don’t have a cervix”
At least I get a laugh.
Then I get the results.
Day 3 Labs
LH – 4.7
FSH -11.7
Estradiol – 45
Free T-4 – 1.3
TSH – 1.75
Day 7 hysterosonogram
My uterus is sagitally 6.5cm
I have a paraovarian cyst measuring 1.9cm x 1.8cm x 2.5cm
I have 2 fibroids. One is 4.0 x 4.6 x 2.8. It is apparently intramural and approximately 25% submucosal and it’s doing something to the endometrial stripe. The other is 2.0 x 1.7 x 1.9. It is also intramural but is < 25% submucosal.
Why didn’t I pay attention in nursing school? I have no idea what any of this means. I make a fatal mistake and turn to the internet. I have a minor breakdown sitting at my desk 2 days running. I throw the results away so I won’t look at them; decide to write this so I fish them out of the trash. Throw them away again. Try to breathe but I think I may have just bought myself some surgery and some assisted reproduction.
Vanessa comes to visit, we have a blast. I kind of view her trip as my final fling. She leaves I stop drinking altogether, make an appointment with the nutritionist – I need to get this weight off –and vow to spend six months doing whatever I need to do to get in shape. Losing weight will be good – I’ll feel better, I’ll look better and my fertility will improve. I don’t expect to ever be a size 0 or even a size 8 – but a 12 or a 14 would be lovely. I get my period at a convenient time so I finally get all of the tests done. The blood draw is fine although the volumes were a little shocking. I have a whole new respect for my patients when I take 75 – 100 mL off them. Then there was the hysterosonogram. Oh sweet Jesus. That was the most painful thing ever. I was told to expect some mild cramping. Mild? It felt like my ovary was going to come out of belly. The lovely young Fellow tried to be gentle but seriously with a speculum, a catheter in your cervix, a uterus with saline in it, and a vaginal ultrasound – it hurts! He tries to reassure me
“I’m taking the speculum out now and your cervix will relax and it won’t be so uncomfortable” he says in his soft reassuring voice.
I peer over my knees and reply “How do you know? You don’t have a cervix”
At least I get a laugh.
Then I get the results.
Day 3 Labs
LH – 4.7
FSH -11.7
Estradiol – 45
Free T-4 – 1.3
TSH – 1.75
Day 7 hysterosonogram
My uterus is sagitally 6.5cm
I have a paraovarian cyst measuring 1.9cm x 1.8cm x 2.5cm
I have 2 fibroids. One is 4.0 x 4.6 x 2.8. It is apparently intramural and approximately 25% submucosal and it’s doing something to the endometrial stripe. The other is 2.0 x 1.7 x 1.9. It is also intramural but is < 25% submucosal.
Why didn’t I pay attention in nursing school? I have no idea what any of this means. I make a fatal mistake and turn to the internet. I have a minor breakdown sitting at my desk 2 days running. I throw the results away so I won’t look at them; decide to write this so I fish them out of the trash. Throw them away again. Try to breathe but I think I may have just bought myself some surgery and some assisted reproduction.
Proactivity and Procreativity
The huge envelope arrives from arrives from Yawkey 10. It has enormous health questionnaires and even a rather spiffy DVD (I don’t watch it). I set about filling in all the forms which is really tricky because now I am forced to talk to my mother-in-law about that side of the DNA. She seems pleased, but cautious, and actually doesn’t lecture me – maybe when we finally have a baby I will let her be involved. The easy part however is Robert’s family is tiny with not too much exciting happening. It takes all of a page and a half to do a family history.
Then there is my huge family full of people who unlike me get pregnant just by sitting on a toilet seat (seriously), and they want history up to third degree relatives. My family history reads like a novel with various weird and wonderfuls like the cousin with AML, the one who was diagnosed with Langerhan’s as an adult, the one with the pituitary thing going on (who is also a bit crazy), the one with Fallot’s and the random craziness that seems to infiltrate certain branches of my family tree.
All of this when all I really want is an idea about what to do with the fibroids? At this point I am still firmly convinced that assisted reproduction is not in my future anytime soon. We’ll get rid of those pesky fibroids and then we’ll have a baby. Simple as that. But as I have already pointed out I am an oncology nurse, I nothing about reproductive medicine. I hated ob-gyn in nursing school and even thought childbirth was quite gruesome.
I decide to leave Robert at home for the first appointment; after all at this point it is all about me and my rebellious uterus. Dr. Styer is a total charmer. I even check out his left hand sizing up dating potential for single friends. Damn – wedding ring. I hand him my health essays – shrug and point out that OCD has some benefits – I keep great records and am a really good historian. Dr. Styer is also very pro-active I get a PAP smear and an ultrasound and an insurance referral for the assisted reproduction that I am still convinced I won’t need. The ultrasound and PAP are a little embarrassing as I had a “panty hose accident” a few days ago resulting in a nice abrasion/bruise on the top of my thigh. He of course asks how that happened. I glance at the medical assistant who I have already told about it and say:
“Nothing glamorous like kinky sex, just a very dull panty hose accident”
I get a laugh, but I also get orders for a whole bunch of labs on Day 3 of my next cycle and for a hysterosonogram on Day 6.
Why the invasive procedure? Seems my uterus is indeed being rebellious – one of the fibroids is making the shape all wrong. If it wasn’t for the fact that I am in stirrups with a vaginal probe insitu I would have hugged him. He actually tells me that this may have caused the miscarriage. After 2 and ½ years of “Don’t worry. These things happen” this is an incredible relief. Someone is actually listening to me.
Needless to say I leave his office feeling comforted and relaxed that everything will be okay.
Then there is my huge family full of people who unlike me get pregnant just by sitting on a toilet seat (seriously), and they want history up to third degree relatives. My family history reads like a novel with various weird and wonderfuls like the cousin with AML, the one who was diagnosed with Langerhan’s as an adult, the one with the pituitary thing going on (who is also a bit crazy), the one with Fallot’s and the random craziness that seems to infiltrate certain branches of my family tree.
All of this when all I really want is an idea about what to do with the fibroids? At this point I am still firmly convinced that assisted reproduction is not in my future anytime soon. We’ll get rid of those pesky fibroids and then we’ll have a baby. Simple as that. But as I have already pointed out I am an oncology nurse, I nothing about reproductive medicine. I hated ob-gyn in nursing school and even thought childbirth was quite gruesome.
I decide to leave Robert at home for the first appointment; after all at this point it is all about me and my rebellious uterus. Dr. Styer is a total charmer. I even check out his left hand sizing up dating potential for single friends. Damn – wedding ring. I hand him my health essays – shrug and point out that OCD has some benefits – I keep great records and am a really good historian. Dr. Styer is also very pro-active I get a PAP smear and an ultrasound and an insurance referral for the assisted reproduction that I am still convinced I won’t need. The ultrasound and PAP are a little embarrassing as I had a “panty hose accident” a few days ago resulting in a nice abrasion/bruise on the top of my thigh. He of course asks how that happened. I glance at the medical assistant who I have already told about it and say:
“Nothing glamorous like kinky sex, just a very dull panty hose accident”
I get a laugh, but I also get orders for a whole bunch of labs on Day 3 of my next cycle and for a hysterosonogram on Day 6.
Why the invasive procedure? Seems my uterus is indeed being rebellious – one of the fibroids is making the shape all wrong. If it wasn’t for the fact that I am in stirrups with a vaginal probe insitu I would have hugged him. He actually tells me that this may have caused the miscarriage. After 2 and ½ years of “Don’t worry. These things happen” this is an incredible relief. Someone is actually listening to me.
Needless to say I leave his office feeling comforted and relaxed that everything will be okay.
Tick tock tick tock
Robert gets his tonsils out in February and being a total dude he really isn’t up for much hanky panky for a few weeks so February was a wash. March however was a different matter. I think I know when I am going to ovulate – seriously my cycle even without the pill is 28 days. I time it perfectly. We actually have pretty mind blowing sex – almost like that we just met and can’t keep our pants on sex. We do this a lot.
I start getting really nauseous, and my boobs start to hurt more than ever and feel huge. So much so that one of my doctors can’t take his eyes off them while I am talking to him. I actually feel pregnant, or rather I feel vaguely like I did 13 years ago. I am actually so convinced I but a copy of “What to Expect When You Are Expecting.” (It lives in my desk drawer in the office). I don’t tell Robert this time – and I’ve given up alcohol for Lent. I wait. Then one day my boobs stop hurting and I get my period. Only thing is I am actually over a week early. What? I always have 28 day cycles. Where did this 18 day cycle come from? This time I fall apart.
It is really hard to get Robert to understand. I am plagued by guilt about the termination I had before I came to the States and by the miscarriage we had in 2005. As pro-choice as I am in the back of my mind there is a little voice telling me that I am being punished first by the miscarriage and now by not getting pregnant. I keep wondering about those two pregnancies being my only chances and that I blew them. It’s not a very nice feeling. I am also frustrated with myself because I don’t want to be that girl. I don’t want to be the one who obsessively counts the days in her cycle, feels her cervical mucous, takes her basal body temperature, forces sex on exactly the right days. But still that bloody alarm clock (it’s now a Mickey Mouse one) is there. Tick tock tick tock.
I finally get proactive about this. I take a deep breath and sick day to sort my head out. What do I know?
I can get pregnant – I’ve managed it twice by accident
I have been on the pill for an awfully long time
I have fibroids and a history of ovarian cysts
What can I do?
Continue the watchful wait on the fibroids?
Get myself a doctor who specializes in fibroids?
Number 2 – come on down.
I start getting really nauseous, and my boobs start to hurt more than ever and feel huge. So much so that one of my doctors can’t take his eyes off them while I am talking to him. I actually feel pregnant, or rather I feel vaguely like I did 13 years ago. I am actually so convinced I but a copy of “What to Expect When You Are Expecting.” (It lives in my desk drawer in the office). I don’t tell Robert this time – and I’ve given up alcohol for Lent. I wait. Then one day my boobs stop hurting and I get my period. Only thing is I am actually over a week early. What? I always have 28 day cycles. Where did this 18 day cycle come from? This time I fall apart.
It is really hard to get Robert to understand. I am plagued by guilt about the termination I had before I came to the States and by the miscarriage we had in 2005. As pro-choice as I am in the back of my mind there is a little voice telling me that I am being punished first by the miscarriage and now by not getting pregnant. I keep wondering about those two pregnancies being my only chances and that I blew them. It’s not a very nice feeling. I am also frustrated with myself because I don’t want to be that girl. I don’t want to be the one who obsessively counts the days in her cycle, feels her cervical mucous, takes her basal body temperature, forces sex on exactly the right days. But still that bloody alarm clock (it’s now a Mickey Mouse one) is there. Tick tock tick tock.
I finally get proactive about this. I take a deep breath and sick day to sort my head out. What do I know?
I can get pregnant – I’ve managed it twice by accident
I have been on the pill for an awfully long time
I have fibroids and a history of ovarian cysts
What can I do?
Continue the watchful wait on the fibroids?
Get myself a doctor who specializes in fibroids?
Number 2 – come on down.
Fertility schmetility - January
The New Year started with a “bang” quite literally and by January 8th I am so nauseous. Seriously I can’t eat, everything tastes bad, and everything smells bad. Surely it’s too early for morning sickness. Surely I’m not pregnant... Nobody over 35 gets pregnant within a month of coming off the pill. Nobody. What to do? Ask a doctor! So while walking around the Stop and Shop I call Lynn, she’ll know.
“So how early can you get morning sickness” I ask her as soon as she picks up
“I take it you think you’re pregnant?” she asks
“Well I don’t know I’m an oncology nurse my patients really don’t have to worry so much about fertility and I hated my maternity rotations so I didn’t pay attention and last time I had no symptoms” I blurted out. And it was one long almost incoherent sentence utterly devoid of punctuation.
“Well are you late?”
“No – I’m not due on ‘til next week” I say, “But I need to pee all the time, I’m nauseous all the time, and I’m dizzy”
“Needing to pee all the time comes later”
“No! The internet said it can happen right away because of the increase in blood flow to the kidneys” I protested, “It was on the internet – the internet knows everything”
“Jo, take a deep breath”
I stop in the middle of frozen deserts and take a deep breath. I’m being crazy, I must be.
“Maybe I’m being crazy” I say, a little ruefully.
“Look you could be, and if you are you are going to end up delivering at my wedding”
Damn Lynn and her ability to do math in her head.
I do finally come clean and tell Robert what I am thinking. His reaction is initially exactly as I expected – he is mortified. I bite my tongue when he asks those two stupid questions
“How? Why”
Well, duh, I am thinking…penis, vagina, sperm, ova, blah, blah, blah, we had sex.
“But you had wine – how could you do that if you thought you were pregnant”
“Well I didn’t think I was pregnant when I drank the wine”
He makes that “harrumph” sound that always irritates me, narrows his eyes as if he has suddenly developed x-ray vision and can see into my uterus.
“Okay, “he says, suddenly becoming the grown up in this little drama, “We need to do a test, and we need to proceed as if you are – no beer”
I smile, for a guy given to tantrums over stupid little things he really does step up when it is something big. We wait patiently for the next week, wondering if the fact that every other commercial is for a pregnancy test is a sign of some sort.
The nausea goes on for another couple of days, until the morning I rush out to work and forget to take my Prozac. No nausea. Surely not. Prozac has never made me sick before. So I miss it another day, no nausea, and another. Damn. It must be the Prozac. I have an appointment with a new psychiatrist the following week so I stop the Prozac altogether.
I meet my new psychiatrist who tisks at me for restarting the Prozac at 50mg after a 3 month self-prescribed holiday and restarts me at 20mg. It seems that the nausea was indeed caused by the drug. I stop at the bathroom on my way out of the hospital and lo and behold – not pregnant.
I was actually surprised at the way my heart sank.
And that was how it all started. It was if that one scare set off a weird uncontrollable cascade in me. I had always scoffed at the idea of a biological clock, viewing it as something invented to force women into pregnancy. Not so much now. I suddenly discovered (what I picture as) a giant old fashioned alarm clock with bells on the top living somewhere inside of me. Tick tock tick tock.
“So how early can you get morning sickness” I ask her as soon as she picks up
“I take it you think you’re pregnant?” she asks
“Well I don’t know I’m an oncology nurse my patients really don’t have to worry so much about fertility and I hated my maternity rotations so I didn’t pay attention and last time I had no symptoms” I blurted out. And it was one long almost incoherent sentence utterly devoid of punctuation.
“Well are you late?”
“No – I’m not due on ‘til next week” I say, “But I need to pee all the time, I’m nauseous all the time, and I’m dizzy”
“Needing to pee all the time comes later”
“No! The internet said it can happen right away because of the increase in blood flow to the kidneys” I protested, “It was on the internet – the internet knows everything”
“Jo, take a deep breath”
I stop in the middle of frozen deserts and take a deep breath. I’m being crazy, I must be.
“Maybe I’m being crazy” I say, a little ruefully.
“Look you could be, and if you are you are going to end up delivering at my wedding”
Damn Lynn and her ability to do math in her head.
I do finally come clean and tell Robert what I am thinking. His reaction is initially exactly as I expected – he is mortified. I bite my tongue when he asks those two stupid questions
“How? Why”
Well, duh, I am thinking…penis, vagina, sperm, ova, blah, blah, blah, we had sex.
“But you had wine – how could you do that if you thought you were pregnant”
“Well I didn’t think I was pregnant when I drank the wine”
He makes that “harrumph” sound that always irritates me, narrows his eyes as if he has suddenly developed x-ray vision and can see into my uterus.
“Okay, “he says, suddenly becoming the grown up in this little drama, “We need to do a test, and we need to proceed as if you are – no beer”
I smile, for a guy given to tantrums over stupid little things he really does step up when it is something big. We wait patiently for the next week, wondering if the fact that every other commercial is for a pregnancy test is a sign of some sort.
The nausea goes on for another couple of days, until the morning I rush out to work and forget to take my Prozac. No nausea. Surely not. Prozac has never made me sick before. So I miss it another day, no nausea, and another. Damn. It must be the Prozac. I have an appointment with a new psychiatrist the following week so I stop the Prozac altogether.
I meet my new psychiatrist who tisks at me for restarting the Prozac at 50mg after a 3 month self-prescribed holiday and restarts me at 20mg. It seems that the nausea was indeed caused by the drug. I stop at the bathroom on my way out of the hospital and lo and behold – not pregnant.
I was actually surprised at the way my heart sank.
And that was how it all started. It was if that one scare set off a weird uncontrollable cascade in me. I had always scoffed at the idea of a biological clock, viewing it as something invented to force women into pregnancy. Not so much now. I suddenly discovered (what I picture as) a giant old fashioned alarm clock with bells on the top living somewhere inside of me. Tick tock tick tock.
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