IF and RPL throw different curve balls for us to deal with. The end is still the same...we both don't have babies that we so desperately want in our arms. What we're dealing with though is often so different. After multiple failed pregnancies, RPL takes the joy and elation of seeing a BFP away. The only real feeling that comes with it is that "oh, shit" feeling. The anxiety. The paralyzing fear. The feeling that every moment of every day is a lifetime.
Someone who is struggling to get pregnant and is pursuing fertility treatments would give anything to see that BFP. The treatments and the cycle after cycle of stark white spaces on pregnancy tests hurt a little more each time one is staring you in the face.
I've struggled with posting this for a few days, because of my last two posts about our decision to stop trying and my fears. I've also struggled with this post because I can't believe we're in this place. Yet, I don't know how to not post this.
So, here it is. I'm pregnant. Pregnancy number five. We are so scared shitless that we can't even allow ourselves to think about it. I got a positive at 12DPO (on Friday) and my first set of betas were yesterday and those were good. The only reason I tested at all was that I didn't have any signs at all that AF was arriving and I woke up that morning, looking forward to getting my hair highlighted that night. When I realized that AF didn't feel like she was coming, I thought that as much as I didn't think that I was pregnant, I should test to just be sure. I can honestly say though that taking that test, I thought the chances of me seeing a positive were about as high as me winning the lottery. Hell, I even was on my way out the door for school and decided to take the damn test with me to school for when I had to go again.
I'm already thinking that when I start spotting, I hope it's at week six, just like it was every other time, since I will be off of school. I'm already thinking that when I miscarry again, that I hope it's a missed miscarriage like before, so that I can deal with the physical aspect over winter break, so I don't have to miss any more school.
So, there it is.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Fears
Since Mr SC and I had our talk and reached our decision on Thursday, I've felt the most conflicting emotions.
Relief. Sadness. Fear.
Why relief? Although I have talked to my therapist about it extensively and blogged about it, I was fearful in the back of my mind that I would never be ready for trying again. Give it time, I heard. I was reassured that my feelings were normal. The weird part is that I never felt any closer to being ready. If anything, I felt more disconnected from it. I'm relieved that we reached this decision, that I was able to be honest with myself and help make this decision.
Sadness...this one is obvious, but it's a different kind of sadness. It's not a paralyzing, gut-wrenching sadness. It's more a kind of pain for what could have been, not with my losses that already happened, but what could have been had we tried again. I'm also sad about what the person that I was and am disgusted with myself that I wasn't able to cope with things better.
In the back of my mind, I'm afraid. I'm afraid that I'm weak. Others have endured so much more than we have, yet we decided that this was the end of the road. I don't want to be perceived as a quitter. We also have a diagnosis with my elevated NK cells, which is more than many couples get to have. Although it's controversial, there is treatment. What's wrong with us that we aren't willing to try it? I'm afraid that I'll buy into society's stereotype that the only "family" is one with a couple and a child. I'm afraid that we'll be considered less of a couple because we don't have the "bond" of a child. I'm afraid that people who know what we've been through (many do, to varying degrees) will realize that we aren't having a child and will always look at us with pity. I'm afraid that Mr SC made this decision because he wants to make me happy and isn't thinking about himself and will resent me.
Writing it all down, most of what I'm afraid of involves how others will perceive us. This isn't even logical, since no one knows (aside from my bloggy friends, our parents and my dear friend, Kelly) about our NK cells and it's not like we're going to make our decision a topic of conversation over dinner. I told my mom and Mr SC will tell his mom and, well, Kelly will find out when if she reads my blog. Still, something that consumes so much of you, well, if it's all that's racing around in your head it's so strange to know that on the outside, people have no idea. I'm always fearful that people will look at me, know, and judge.
I guess I'm afraid that those fears will become how I feel and instead of struggling with them, they're take over in my head.
I've been thinking of a way to memorialize our losses and what could have been and I think I've decided on getting a pinky ring. It will be a symbol of the four lives that we lost, the end of that chapter of our lives and our commitment to each other for the future. I haven't picked it out yet, because I know that I'll know it when I see it.
Thanks so much everyone for your kindness and support and I hope when I do blog, that you'll keep stopping by.
Relief. Sadness. Fear.
Why relief? Although I have talked to my therapist about it extensively and blogged about it, I was fearful in the back of my mind that I would never be ready for trying again. Give it time, I heard. I was reassured that my feelings were normal. The weird part is that I never felt any closer to being ready. If anything, I felt more disconnected from it. I'm relieved that we reached this decision, that I was able to be honest with myself and help make this decision.
Sadness...this one is obvious, but it's a different kind of sadness. It's not a paralyzing, gut-wrenching sadness. It's more a kind of pain for what could have been, not with my losses that already happened, but what could have been had we tried again. I'm also sad about what the person that I was and am disgusted with myself that I wasn't able to cope with things better.
In the back of my mind, I'm afraid. I'm afraid that I'm weak. Others have endured so much more than we have, yet we decided that this was the end of the road. I don't want to be perceived as a quitter. We also have a diagnosis with my elevated NK cells, which is more than many couples get to have. Although it's controversial, there is treatment. What's wrong with us that we aren't willing to try it? I'm afraid that I'll buy into society's stereotype that the only "family" is one with a couple and a child. I'm afraid that we'll be considered less of a couple because we don't have the "bond" of a child. I'm afraid that people who know what we've been through (many do, to varying degrees) will realize that we aren't having a child and will always look at us with pity. I'm afraid that Mr SC made this decision because he wants to make me happy and isn't thinking about himself and will resent me.
Writing it all down, most of what I'm afraid of involves how others will perceive us. This isn't even logical, since no one knows (aside from my bloggy friends, our parents and my dear friend, Kelly) about our NK cells and it's not like we're going to make our decision a topic of conversation over dinner. I told my mom and Mr SC will tell his mom and, well, Kelly will find out when if she reads my blog. Still, something that consumes so much of you, well, if it's all that's racing around in your head it's so strange to know that on the outside, people have no idea. I'm always fearful that people will look at me, know, and judge.
I guess I'm afraid that those fears will become how I feel and instead of struggling with them, they're take over in my head.
I've been thinking of a way to memorialize our losses and what could have been and I think I've decided on getting a pinky ring. It will be a symbol of the four lives that we lost, the end of that chapter of our lives and our commitment to each other for the future. I haven't picked it out yet, because I know that I'll know it when I see it.
Thanks so much everyone for your kindness and support and I hope when I do blog, that you'll keep stopping by.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
The End...For Now
This may turn into a long post. My apologies if it does.
I've been at home the last few days, sick. Blech I've felt like crap. I kept the TV off and have been reading. Yesterday I finished a book and today I started The Rea.ding Group. It's a book about women who participate in a book club and about their lives. That makes it sound so bland but it's been great.
That is, until the author introduced the character, "Clare".
Clare and her husband both share their stories about their lives, their marriage, etc. They both are always sad and never feel like they're living. Clare's husband reveals that they've endured five miscarriages (or maybe more because he feels like he's lost count) and, it goes into great lengths about how their marriage and also, they themselves, have died a little bit more inside every time Clare lost a baby.
I still can't believe I kept reading the book. A month ago, I wouldn't have. I cry, but it's ok. Clare talks about how the calendar is filled with "unbirthdays" and riddled with other dates that are horrible reminders of what should have been.
God, her name should have just been Kelly. I can identify with her so much.
I just really allowed myself to think today, all warm and toasty with my two dogs in bed. Although I may blog when I'm upset, I'm feeling stronger and more like myself every day. Mr SC and I are getting back to our old selves, more and more, every day.
When I called the doc at SIRM last week for my consultation, I truly had a breakdown before I talked to the doctor. I could barely pull myself together. I just kept saying, "I don't want to do this again."
We will never, ever be over what happened and what we lost. Never. But, Mr SC and I ended up having a long talk that he initiated. Maybe he's practicing for therapy. :) I don't know. But I look at it like this. Mr SC has had several knee surgeries. His knee will never be the same and, well, it will always hurt a little bit. Some days, it's a dull ache. Other days it hurts more. It's not excruciating pain though like it was when he got injured or how it felt right after surgery.
We don't want to lose ourselves. We don't want to lose our marriage. Mr SC doesn't want to go skiing, because hell, his knee will get torn up again and why do something that he knows will only cause him incredible pain?
We're on an indefinite break. Now, you may think that that's what we're doing now. True, but we were looking at December, with daily shots of Loven.ox and the intralipid infusions. Now, it's indefinitely put off.
And we both feel like an incredible weight has been lifted from our shoulders.
If we were younger and had more time, perhaps things would be different. Perhaps after a few years, we could journey down that road again. The reality is though that Mr SC and I met when we were 33 and time isn't on our side.
But it is. We're choosing to take our lives back and live our lives. Life's too short. We're tired of being caught in the roller coaster of trying and, well, for now...we've decided to get out of line for the ride and walk, hand-in-hand around the park for a while.
I've been at home the last few days, sick. Blech I've felt like crap. I kept the TV off and have been reading. Yesterday I finished a book and today I started The Rea.ding Group. It's a book about women who participate in a book club and about their lives. That makes it sound so bland but it's been great.
That is, until the author introduced the character, "Clare".
Clare and her husband both share their stories about their lives, their marriage, etc. They both are always sad and never feel like they're living. Clare's husband reveals that they've endured five miscarriages (or maybe more because he feels like he's lost count) and, it goes into great lengths about how their marriage and also, they themselves, have died a little bit more inside every time Clare lost a baby.
I still can't believe I kept reading the book. A month ago, I wouldn't have. I cry, but it's ok. Clare talks about how the calendar is filled with "unbirthdays" and riddled with other dates that are horrible reminders of what should have been.
God, her name should have just been Kelly. I can identify with her so much.
I just really allowed myself to think today, all warm and toasty with my two dogs in bed. Although I may blog when I'm upset, I'm feeling stronger and more like myself every day. Mr SC and I are getting back to our old selves, more and more, every day.
When I called the doc at SIRM last week for my consultation, I truly had a breakdown before I talked to the doctor. I could barely pull myself together. I just kept saying, "I don't want to do this again."
We will never, ever be over what happened and what we lost. Never. But, Mr SC and I ended up having a long talk that he initiated. Maybe he's practicing for therapy. :) I don't know. But I look at it like this. Mr SC has had several knee surgeries. His knee will never be the same and, well, it will always hurt a little bit. Some days, it's a dull ache. Other days it hurts more. It's not excruciating pain though like it was when he got injured or how it felt right after surgery.
We don't want to lose ourselves. We don't want to lose our marriage. Mr SC doesn't want to go skiing, because hell, his knee will get torn up again and why do something that he knows will only cause him incredible pain?
We're on an indefinite break. Now, you may think that that's what we're doing now. True, but we were looking at December, with daily shots of Loven.ox and the intralipid infusions. Now, it's indefinitely put off.
And we both feel like an incredible weight has been lifted from our shoulders.
If we were younger and had more time, perhaps things would be different. Perhaps after a few years, we could journey down that road again. The reality is though that Mr SC and I met when we were 33 and time isn't on our side.
But it is. We're choosing to take our lives back and live our lives. Life's too short. We're tired of being caught in the roller coaster of trying and, well, for now...we've decided to get out of line for the ride and walk, hand-in-hand around the park for a while.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Life Goes On (Even Though it Doesn't Feel That Way)
I'm amazed at just how much living is going on, all while I feel like my life is at a standstill. I feel trapped and stalled.
Yet, I read blogs of women and think, wow! They're 36 weeks already?
Or I see FB profile pics being updated, which include adorable photos of an almost one year old. How has an entire year gone by already?
I would have been celebrating Halloween this year with an eleven month old, if it weren't for my first miscarriage.
It's just so strange. I'm not upset...it just is what it is. My life could be over tomorrow and I feel like the last year and a half have been defined solely by grief. Not how I want to remember my life at all.
Yet, I read blogs of women and think, wow! They're 36 weeks already?
Or I see FB profile pics being updated, which include adorable photos of an almost one year old. How has an entire year gone by already?
I would have been celebrating Halloween this year with an eleven month old, if it weren't for my first miscarriage.
It's just so strange. I'm not upset...it just is what it is. My life could be over tomorrow and I feel like the last year and a half have been defined solely by grief. Not how I want to remember my life at all.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Mixed Messages from Doc...Help!
I just had my phone consult with my doc from SIRM. I tell him my cycles are irregular and they always had been regular (spotting 7 or 8DPO through my period, blah blah and mid cycle spotting).
He says he wants to run CD3 b/w. I said oh, I just had that done in July and all was fine.
Oh, he says. Let's retest to compare.
Oh, I say. Ok. What about a LPD with spotting so early? Can we test progesterone?
He says yes, but progesterone can fluctuate (I know) and a low number may not mean anything.
Then he says if all hormones are regular, then he will do a scan to double check everything (even though I had one in August and this has been going on since then).
If all is normal, he says he'd like me to go on Clom.id and that Clom.id will regulate my cycles.
I said what? I already ovulate on my own.
He says no, Clomi.d, in effect "takes over" your cycle and will take care of the LPD.
WTF?????? Has anyone ever heard this? I immediately chatted with a good friend and she had the same thoughts I did, but I thought I'd see if anyone else did too. I get that Clomi.d can "regulate cycles" in getting ovulation to occur, but I already do O and this doesn't make sense to me at all.
Add this to the breakdown I had before the phone call and it's been a glorious Friday!
He says he wants to run CD3 b/w. I said oh, I just had that done in July and all was fine.
Oh, he says. Let's retest to compare.
Oh, I say. Ok. What about a LPD with spotting so early? Can we test progesterone?
He says yes, but progesterone can fluctuate (I know) and a low number may not mean anything.
Then he says if all hormones are regular, then he will do a scan to double check everything (even though I had one in August and this has been going on since then).
If all is normal, he says he'd like me to go on Clom.id and that Clom.id will regulate my cycles.
I said what? I already ovulate on my own.
He says no, Clomi.d, in effect "takes over" your cycle and will take care of the LPD.
WTF?????? Has anyone ever heard this? I immediately chatted with a good friend and she had the same thoughts I did, but I thought I'd see if anyone else did too. I get that Clomi.d can "regulate cycles" in getting ovulation to occur, but I already do O and this doesn't make sense to me at all.
Add this to the breakdown I had before the phone call and it's been a glorious Friday!
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Steps
I wanted to share with you what's been going on with me, and, well, with us also.
First, even though I feel numb, we are looking at starting to try again in December. That will mean monthly infusions (out of pocket) until I get pregnant 7-10 days before I O, which would put us at the end of December, if it works.
By "if" it works, well, I've been having problems with my cycle. I mentioned it at She.r back in August and my doc told me it could take up to six cycles for things to get adjusted. I just finished cycle five and nothing has changed. I have a phone consultation with him tomorrow. I'm thinking it's just hormonal, but, until I have testing that covers all aspects of my cycle (and then subsequent testing after treatment), it may push us back to January. That's fine. Whatever.
The one thing that I told Mr SC was that I wanted us both to see a therapist, together, if we started trying again. He said ok. I still can't believe that he agreed, but he did. I've been putting off making the phone call and finally did. My therapist recommended someone and we're going to try to coordinate a time for us to go in the next couple of weeks. She sounds great on the phone and we chatted a bit about why we are going to therapy. When I told her about our miscarriages, I swear I heard her jaw drop. But anyway...
That's where we are. Just an update.
First, even though I feel numb, we are looking at starting to try again in December. That will mean monthly infusions (out of pocket) until I get pregnant 7-10 days before I O, which would put us at the end of December, if it works.
By "if" it works, well, I've been having problems with my cycle. I mentioned it at She.r back in August and my doc told me it could take up to six cycles for things to get adjusted. I just finished cycle five and nothing has changed. I have a phone consultation with him tomorrow. I'm thinking it's just hormonal, but, until I have testing that covers all aspects of my cycle (and then subsequent testing after treatment), it may push us back to January. That's fine. Whatever.
The one thing that I told Mr SC was that I wanted us both to see a therapist, together, if we started trying again. He said ok. I still can't believe that he agreed, but he did. I've been putting off making the phone call and finally did. My therapist recommended someone and we're going to try to coordinate a time for us to go in the next couple of weeks. She sounds great on the phone and we chatted a bit about why we are going to therapy. When I told her about our miscarriages, I swear I heard her jaw drop. But anyway...
That's where we are. Just an update.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Life in a Blur
This is something that I've been so afraid of in dealing with everything...our losses, my diagnosis. taking a break, etc. I've talked about my concerns with Mr SC, my mom, my therapist and all of them, in a kind way, dismissed my concerns.
I should have listened to my gut.
I've been living in pretty two much states...either feeling like a whirling dervish with work, travel, etc or feeling so completely that I completely crash. If it makes sense though, unless I'm in one of my ultra-lows (which you so often get to share with me, lucky you!) I've been fearful that I haven't really been living at all.
Turns out I was right.
The story that I'm about to tell may seem insignificant to you, but to me, it struck a chord. My ultimate fear as a teacher is to look like an ass in front of my students, whether that means coming across as unintelligent, coming across as incompetent because I can't engage them in my lesson or, simply, making a fool of myself. It appears that I did make a complete fool of myself and I don't even remember.
My colleague/friend and I were chatting after school Friday. I don't know how it came up, but she "reminded" me of an incident last spring that I don't remember at all. When I asked her when this occurred she told me that it was at the end of last year. Translation: after I returned to work from my month off after our fourth loss.
Apparently I had on my favorite sandals (a cute pair of high, black wedge slingbacks). I lost my balance, twisted my ankle, fell and cracked my head on a student desk and fell to the ground. All of this while kids were in the room. Kids looked after me while my friend went to the nurse and got ice for me. I ended up going home early that day.
I was convinced that this didn't happen to me and that my friend had me confused with someone else. That is, until I told Mr SC. He looked at me like something was really, really wrong with me and asked, "how don't you remember that?"
I wasn't heavily medicated either. I was on Lex.apro (same dose as I am now) and take Ati.van when I need it.
I'm finished. I'm tired of being a bystander in life. It's too short. I have much to blog about on the TTC front, but I'm tired of not feeling and not truly living. It appears that I'm quite good at it.
I should have listened to my gut.
I've been living in pretty two much states...either feeling like a whirling dervish with work, travel, etc or feeling so completely that I completely crash. If it makes sense though, unless I'm in one of my ultra-lows (which you so often get to share with me, lucky you!) I've been fearful that I haven't really been living at all.
Turns out I was right.
The story that I'm about to tell may seem insignificant to you, but to me, it struck a chord. My ultimate fear as a teacher is to look like an ass in front of my students, whether that means coming across as unintelligent, coming across as incompetent because I can't engage them in my lesson or, simply, making a fool of myself. It appears that I did make a complete fool of myself and I don't even remember.
My colleague/friend and I were chatting after school Friday. I don't know how it came up, but she "reminded" me of an incident last spring that I don't remember at all. When I asked her when this occurred she told me that it was at the end of last year. Translation: after I returned to work from my month off after our fourth loss.
Apparently I had on my favorite sandals (a cute pair of high, black wedge slingbacks). I lost my balance, twisted my ankle, fell and cracked my head on a student desk and fell to the ground. All of this while kids were in the room. Kids looked after me while my friend went to the nurse and got ice for me. I ended up going home early that day.
I was convinced that this didn't happen to me and that my friend had me confused with someone else. That is, until I told Mr SC. He looked at me like something was really, really wrong with me and asked, "how don't you remember that?"
I wasn't heavily medicated either. I was on Lex.apro (same dose as I am now) and take Ati.van when I need it.
I'm finished. I'm tired of being a bystander in life. It's too short. I have much to blog about on the TTC front, but I'm tired of not feeling and not truly living. It appears that I'm quite good at it.
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