Saying Goodbye to the Circus

I’ve seen a lot of posts lately, about people’s successes, and truly I am so happy for each of you who has toiled and suffered and worked so hard for the shimmering happiness that comes with getting a longed for positive, with each week that passes that brings you closer and closer to the safety zone. I do not begrudge your obsessive pee sticks, your burgeoning belly shots and your tentative steps toward a cautious joy. I  happily root for you. I sincerely hope that each of you finds that. I hope I find that.

But the posts about resentments have always made me wonder if I was a good fit for this community. How different my belief systems are, how much older I am,  how different my experiences have been, and all the ways those experiences have shaped me.  I don’t understand how you can wish like crazy for a baby and resent someone who has been on their own path through hell, a positive pee stick or a belly shot. Even in my current state of grief, I can’t grasp this thinking. I can’t wrap my head around it. I understand it. I’ve felt those twinges as well, but I have never given in to them. I never will allow myself to.

To be completely clear, I do not judge you if these are your feelings, they are yours. But I do not understand them in the grand scheme of things.

“Coming out” on Facebook has been nice, sort of. But embarrassing and kind of humiliating. The truth is I don’t think most of my “friends” really want to read about the misery I am currently experiencing. To be honest, I’m not sure I want to continue to share it. If I am brutally honest, I think it was kind of pathetic on my part, to call attention to it. Clearly it was me reaching out into the void, looking for support. I’ve said all  along I don’t have a support system. That has never been clearer and more “in my face” than since my embryo died. I call it an embryo because by medical definition, it wasn’t a fetus yet, and I can’t handle calling it a baby.

Yesterday, someone I respect said to me, “You are right. You really don’t have anyone in your life, like a best friend or a spouse that supports you, so you can’t afford to fall apart. You’re going to have to be stronger.”

This statement made me really angry, because after all I’ve been through, I feel entitled to be weak for a minute. I feel like I deserve to be allowed to fall apart. The truth is, he was right. I have no one that will pick me up again so I AM going to have to be stronger. I am going to have to keep putting one foot in front of the other because there is no one else to do it for me. No one to share my burden.

This most recent series of posts that I’ve read and posted, has made me wonder if I have lost the purpose of this blog. When a Circus becomes a Horror Story perhaps its time for the Circus to close down.

That’s what I’m going to do.

I will not be taking the blog down. I will be reading and responding to comments, but I no longer think this is a positive means to express my feelings about my journey. I have decided I will try IVF again, but I have a lot of ugly to get through first. I think its best sorted out in private, so this will be my last post here.

I have found I really love writing, though I’m not terribly good at it,  and you will now be able to find me at The Luncheonette.

It’s still under construction, but I think it will be a more complete representation of who I am. I will be sharing a menu of my travels, photography, food, my husband and stepdaughter, things I think are funny or inspiring, books, music, movies, my observations of the world, and my immature shenanigans.

I want to thank the IF community for being kind to me, for supporting me and tolerating my sometimes controversial posts. For reading even when I’ve been a bitch or my posts have sucked. I know in my heart that the day will come for each of you when you hold your baby(s) in your arms and feel happier and more complete as women, and as part of families.  My email address is jlko@att.net if you want to stay in touch.

I hope it’s not goodbye, I hope it’s just so long, and I hope to see you at the lunch counter!

Jeanette

An American Horror Story

I can’t get warm. I live in Southern California,  and even though just about everywhere is colder than here, I can’t get warm.

I’ve spent the weekend waiting. Waiting to bleed, waiting to stop crying, waiting for something to feel normal or logical. I haven’t, started bleeding, I still cry easily though for shorter durations and thank god, usually in private. I’ve been waiting for the pregnancy symptoms to subside, they haven’t either. What has happened is that everything has begun to feel really surreal. Like it’s happening to someone else.

Saturday my husband spent the day with a client so I wandered around trying to do errands I wasn’t able to get to during the last few weeks when I’ve felt so ill, and tired. At some point I started to feel like I was so desperate and crazy that I couldn’t stand the idea of having a dead embryo inside me anymore. It was like some sort of surreal anxiety attack that just went on and on and felt bigger and bigger. I texted my acupuncturist on Saturday afternoon, to see if he could help me get the miscarriage started. He was shocked. He thought I was accusing him of hurting me. I wasn’t. I said “No, I want you to help me start bleeding”. He kept asking me over and over if it was true that there wasn’t any more hope, said there really wasn’t much he could do, got kind of annoyed with me that I haven’t seen him in 3 weeks (due to work, and just being overwhelmed with adjusting to being pregnant and the expectations my husband and family have of me) so I agreed to see him this afternoon. He says the best he can do is help calm me. I am not sure how well this appointment is going to go because I’m not sure anything except strong drugs will help calm me at this point.

I’ve dreamed about dead babies. The box the Dr gave me to collect a “sample” of the tissue has very graphic pictures of what is the right tissue to send and what is not the right tissue to send. Its like something about of a sick science experiment. It will need to be “collected” thoroughly washed, and placed into the sterile jar. A vial of the miscarriage blood must also be collected. once collected they are both to be wrapped in a “bio-hazard” bag, placed back into the box and sent to the lab. The box also says that while it can be used by a patient, it’s created specifically for the use of medial staff after conducting a d&c. No gloves come with it. So let me get this straight, I’m supposed to collect the sample from the toilet, wash it, identify it, and place it in a sterile jar? I’ve done a lot of things to become pregnant. I’ve gone through a lot but I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think I am brave enough to do this.

I woke up from a nightmare about doing this last night drenched in sweat, heart racing and shaking at 1:30am last night. I didn’t go back to sleep for a long time.

There is only a 50% chance that I will miscarry naturally. On Friday if I still haven’t started then I am to call the Dr who will give some vaginal suppositories that should bring it on. There is a possibility that also wont work so the Friday after that if I still haven’t miscarried, then he will tell me to get a d&c from my own Ob. I honestly don’t know if I can wait another 3 weeks for this to be over.

Overwhelmingly, sharing my story on Facebook has been amazing. Except for a few comments like ” You know if you really want something it will happen, so you must not have wanted it enough” and a “God is punishing you, I never really thought you were cut out to be a mother”.

Why is it that I can get 50 amazing, caring, supportive comments, and the 2 that aren’t just bring me to my knees?

So where am I now? I’m about to get ready to go to work, dizzy, light-headed, shaky, anxious and with tremendous back pain that started on Saturday. I’m about to step back into my life, feeling more disconnected then I’ve maybe ever felt, and wondering if this was my last chance at my own biological child.

I know I need to thank everyone for their wonderful comments and support, but please be patient with me, I am still in the thick of this and just putting on foot in front of the other is proving to be as much as I can do.

Conversations with a Crazy Person

It’s Tuesday night. 6dpt. I started getting anxious to test today. Really anxious and I had to go to Target so that made it worse. I had to get some cleaning supplies, and some vinegar, and some other stuff for my friend’s birthday party that I am helping her with. I wandered by the pregnancy test kit aisle. Put a box of 3 in my cart and then proceeded to have the stupidest conversation with myself for the next 20 minutes while meandering around Target.

“You promised you were not going to test early”

I know but I can’t help it, I’m getting really anxious today.

“You PROMISED! Look at how crappy it’s turned out for you the other 2 times?”

I know but this feels different.

“It could just be the progesterone. It’s probably just the progesterone”

Yes. Possibly. Fine. God you’re an ass.

I remove the tests from my cart somewhere around kids toys. I then wander over to the baby section. The section of Target I always have avoided. I think for a minute, what it would be like to actually BE pregnant and be able to justifiably buy these items. I move on to another aisle.

The conversation continues:

“No you are not buying those! I’m not kidding. NO!”

Ok but the results aren’t going to change if I test early or not.

“No but you will wreck this peaceful happiness bubble of insulation you’ve worked so hard to create around yourself if you test early. Look how well you did at acupuncture yesterday. You didn’t whine or cry or act like a maniac. For Once.”

“You’re 11 days into all the meds, you are doing well. Don’t ruin it”

Always fighting between the logical and possibly insane me.

Transfer #3

I realized something today. I wasn’t blogging yet, when I did my first transfer. I didn’t blog about my second transfer until after it failed, I’m not sure why really, the support would have been nice, but I didn’t. Today was FET #3. The miracle Molly gave me, a 6AA fully hatched blast. It was unfrozen, fully expanded and transferred without incident.

I was running late to my pre-transfer acupuncture appointment, and in my rush to get there, I got the first speeding ticket I’ve ever had in my life. Which I guess I can do to traffic school for, but whatever. Transfer went well, while I was in the recover, Molly came to talk to me a little said my uterine lining was great, no stripes, completely white which I guess is what they wanted to see. My P4 from yesterday is a little on the low side at 26.87, she said that a level of about 40 usually indicates a higher than average chance of pregnancy, hence the increase dosage of my PIO shots, and that my E2 was perfect.

I went to the post transfer acupuncture appointment and that went well too, I lay there just trying to keep my mind blank and focus on feeling the needles.

I just walked in the door about 20 minutes ago, so its been a long day for me.

The Beta is next Friday at 11am. Between now and then I hope to do a lot of meditating, catching up on some TV, doing homework for my classes, working on some projects I’m in the middle of, and generally taking things sort of easy. Not too much stress, not too much worry, just focusing on resting my godforsaken noisy mind.

The outcomes at this point are out of my hands. All I can do is wait, try not to be anxious and promise myself not to pee on any sticks. This time, I’m going to wait for the Beta, I’m going enjoy not knowing, and if I cry in front of the Dr so be it.

Snuggle in little bean, snuggle in tight and thrive in your new, less frosty environment.

Today

I went to my clinic to get a final blood draw, and ultrasound this morning to see what my levels are and what my Endometrium (lining) is. Dr Yelian did it himself.

Results: Endometrium 12.4, E2 185+, P4 26.87. My PIO dose has been increased to 1.5ccs. Ow! The transfer is tomorrow at 2:15pm. I will need to be there 30 minutes early, and I will be having acupuncture both before and after the transfer.

I stopped by the Temple today to light candles, meditate, pray, I asked a monk for a blessing, I asked for strength and grace, for this blessing to become a reality, and for happiness good health and harmony for my family. I also asked for forgiveness because I’m a tremendously flawed person. But I am becoming someone I like.

Then I went and got my hair done, because you know what? I don’t want to spend the next few weeks looking at my dark roots. I’m such a girl (I don’t know where this vanity comes from, I’m not even a big makeup wearing person). On the way home, I stopped Costco and bought a big fragrant pineapple, some milk, and some nuts.

You know what I didn’t do today? I didn’t hide me knickers at the ultrasound. In fact I took a picture to prove it.

I even wore hot pink ones just to give my otherwise boring underpants choices a pop of color. I’m starting a knicker revolution. Not really but my blue skirt and hot pink underwear made me laugh and Dr. came into the room before I could shove them out-of-the-way. So here you are. My knickers. It’s not the full shot but its them all the same. Also notice I was not tidy and didn’t fold anything. Its been about 100 degrees lately so knit skirt, t-shirt sandals, I’m golden.

Meditations tonight, some happy thoughts, my first butternut squash soup of the season. A nice peaceful, quiet, evening.

Thank you to everyone that responded to my earlier post, What ever happens is out of my hands now. But I will be praying my little Jinyu snuggles in tight.

Lastly, I’m going to post my IVF song. Don’t look at the video just listen to the music and lyrics. It’s by Ian Britt, an incredible artist and a friend. It’s what I’d say to my imaginary baby. (Shameless plug) You can buy Ian Britts amazing work on iTunes.

Wish me luck. Thank you so much!

The Shape of Us

 

The Best Laid Plans, Never get Laid

This is actually the title of a song by “The Bears”  from a CD called  Rise and Shine who are mostly member of King Crimson from the 80’s. Admit it, none of you have any idea who I’m talking about….

My plan has worked well this last few weeks. I’ve felt genuinely peaceful and content for at least 10 days in a row.

Until last night when the husband lost his shit over me getting him a new iPhone 5. Everyone Anyone else would be like… “YAY!” but he was all “OMG I hate technology, I hate this thing, nothing is where I left it and its all your fault”

Whut? Normal husbands would be like..”OMG you are the best wife ever, you ever transferred everything over and set it up for me how can I be a better spouse to you?” Also, I didn’t get one for me. I just got one for him because he hasn’t had an upgrade to his phone in 3 years.

Nope! None of that here. Instead he texted me, and then called me and yelled at me for an hour until I solved his problem and then he was all…”Whoa you are like the iPhone whisperer”

SERIOUSLY? seriously?

Please visualize those two words being said with 2 HUGE eyes, A pale blue face, racing heartbeat,  high blood pressure and a look of complete disbelief. Assuming you know what my face looks like.

I don’t respond to stress like a maniac! Also I may or may not have mentioned he’s not technology er… savvy. Which is the nice way of saying he’s a moron when it comes to every single thing that makes sense to me in this world. I *might* have just projected a lil anger onto him, but come ON! Most people would pee on themselves to get the newest best model Apple product.

Plus I stayed up until 2am to order it for him so he’d better step off! Lastly, he asked for it. He denied it last night, but he asked for the new one because of its larger screen. Aside from perfection, nice paintings, old expensive architectural books and perfect grades from both me and stepdaughter this man doesn’t ask for anything for himself. So when he does. I listen.

I also know his limitations and his tolerances so I (wrongly) thought that me transferring everything over, and handing a new phone completely synched and working with all his favorite apps in the right order would be enough.

Next time, I will just buy one for myself and call it a day.
I had meetings this morning, acupuncture this afternoon and the radio show Facebook thingy I host tonight.

Then I will meditate on my single follicle and tell it to behave itself and to do its job. Tonight, my weird retrieval cleaning and routine. I admit it, I’m slightly OCD about the retrieval thing.

Tomorrow, If I haven’t ovulated the little effer early, the first dominant follicle from my sad little left ovary ever.

The Bears Http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iLtWj4S3Vy8

Underachiever

CD10 Monitoring
I’ve had this really uncomfortable pain that’s been radiating from my back to front on the left side. Last Friday I thought it was related to my  car accident, neck and back injury. Now a few days later, and after some exploratory poking around my stomach/uterus/left ovary area I realized that its my withered little almond-shaped ovary stretching to fit what feels like an angry little gnome. It’s weird how one little shift can cause my mid-back to spasm and me to feel like the hunchback of Orange County. I am very familiar with this pain, but not on my left side. Normally its on my right. My last retrieval was in early July, so its been more than 2 months since I had one. And since my left ovary is such a underachiever, it didn’t occur to me that it was “Excuse me, I’m trying to grow an egg in here” pain.

Lets see what the blood results and ultrasound show. My appointment its at 11am this morning.

Results:

1 follicle still on the left side, now 15mm, E2 180, up from 72, 4 days ago, which is perfect for retrieval. Generally you want an E2 of 200 or more for 1 follicle. P4 .31, LH 16.8. Follow up visit tomorrow, trigger either tomorrow or Thursday which would mean a retrieval on Friday or Saturday. I’m hoping Friday.

I have plans on Thursday morning with a friend for breakfast, which makes me incredibly happy,  I’ve been asked to give a cooking lesson for my other friends twins 8th birthday party for 14 little 8 year olds, and I have midterms coming for my classes. 2 of these things I’m really looking forward to. It’s amazing how much having something to look forward to can shift your perspective. My “pretty pink positive thoughts” plan is really working well.

I’m getting excited for Halloween! We get a million kids here and everyone in the neighborhood decks out their houses. I am trying to decide if I want to dress my dogs up like crayons, or the Travelocity gnome. (you might begin to notice a pattern. I like gnomes.) Don’t ask me why I don’t know.

Lets put it to a vote: Crayons or Gnomes?

What I do know is,  there’s a life lesson in the phrase “Never Roam Alone”

 

Regularly Scheduled Programming

Its been a few weeks since my FET failed, where I felt like a huge failure.  That my life was one huge fail, and that it seemed like I would never do anything but fail. Not exactly a confidence booster. Not great for people like me, who don’t sleep on a good day, and don’t bother eating much when its a bad day.

I spun off into more feelings of failure, a very quick weight drop, a brief stint at the Urgent Care for extremely erratic and low heart rate, *34bpm* at its lowest, my baseline is between 70 and 74. Low blood ox, low blood pressure, a visit to my GP, more blood work, my retrieval cycle being cancelled, my first visit ever to a cardiologist, and the temporary installation of a heart monitor. Which I wore for 4 days and promptly took off, because it was itchy, sticky, giving me a rash, annoying and was ruining my clothes. Yes. I am a shitty patient. You could see it through my clothes. I looked like the first stage of becoming a borg. I’m not sure what that means. It’s what my friends husband said. He’s one of those Star Trek people.

I once dated a writer from Star Trek the Next Generation, but I kept pointing and laughing at him so we didn’t last long. Maybe it was because I didn’t really consider that to be a job. Or maybe I didn’t respect him enough. Whatever. I digress and that’s a story for another day.

Its Monday, my Endometrial Biopsy is on Wednesday afternoon, and I feel better. Not so dark and dismal as say 2 weeks ago. Not great really but better. I am functioning, eating, so you can stop yelling at me, and you know who you are. I’m taking my vitamins, trying to be healthier in my choices, which in my case means eating at mealtimes, and choosing fruits, vegetables and either chicken or fish.

Am I scared about the biopsy? No. I feel sort of wary, even though I’ve never had one before, and I don’t know anyone that’s ever had one before, I’ve faced enough “new stuff” each month of my IVF journey that I’ve survived, and I will survive this too.

Here’s my “take away” from the last 2 to 3 weeks. Note to self: Stop saying you’re not going to react badly when something bad happens to you. Because you can’t cure normal. Feeling shitty after the August I had, was not only normal it was a rational response to a series of really bad things happening.

As far as advice for people who try to support the person going through the bad things? Stop saying things like “get over it” and “just move forward”. It’s unfair, it’s unkind and frankly as a society we spend too much time trying to invalidate or medicate our way out of our feelings. Give me some time to breathe, give me some time to grieve. These feelings are hard, and piled up, they are overwhelming.

I’m not saying this to anyone in particular. I’m just saying it. *To be 100% clear, Paul, I’m not saying it to you*

I also had a couple of people who said “So are you going to quit now? I think its time you quit”. To you, I quote Theresa from “A Journey to the Finish Line” I don’t quit when I’m tired. I will quit when I’m done. I will decide when I’m done.

The things that helped me the most were hugs, listening when I was overwhelmed and crying. My husband reaching for my hand in the car. Touch, I think helped the most. There is a saying in Arabic that “you must hold on to the person who is grieving to remind them to stay with this world”

Arabic is general is very poetic and dramatic, so yes its an overstatement, but touch was what helped remind me of my responsibilities to the people who love me, and who I love back. To those of you that reached out and touched me, Thank you.

Now to abruptly switch subjects because I’ve reached my mush quota for the month, and because for all my talk about feelings, I’m still uncomfortable with a lot of mine. I’m happy summer crap tv is over. Because the sheer volume of it I’ve watched is mortifying. I can’t wait for the smart shows I usually watch to come back over the next few weeks.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming

Saturday in the Park

 

Last Saturday was my CD2 monitoring for the first time after what appears to have been a chemical pregnancy. It was crampy, uncomfortable, really messy and emotional. I don’t know why. It’s like limbo. It’s not far along enough to even register but all the same, to know my second FET failed was disappointing and sad. It’s also the longest shark week I’ve had in years. 6 days.

I made it through the ultrasound ok, 1 follicle on each ovary, 5mm each, until the tech left the room. At which point I stood up and looked down at the floor at a small thick puddle of blood, and burst into tears. I cleaned myself, put my clothes back on and crawled around on the floor trying to clean up the mess, crying all the while. Mortified.

My blood work was drawn, my E2 was less than 25, my FSH was 17.5 and it will be a natural cycle, with another check on day 9, this Saturday. I’m guessing I might have a retrieval later in the month, and at some point after that an endometrial biopsy. Last Friday I was tested for a vitamin D deficiency, and a bunch of auto-immune issues. I should get the results by Saturday.

I have not had a lot of good things to say about anything so I’ve done my best not to talk. I’ve avoided my husband and stepdaughter, avoided my friends, let calls go to voice mail and just keep trying to put one foot in front of the other. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to say, I need support. I don’t know how to say, I need love or care or kindness. So I’ve said nothing.

I finally went out to lunch with the husband and stepdaughter today, it almost felt normal, except I no longer finish meals, and I am not hungry 95% of the time.

I guess that’s how you get back to normal, you keep putting one foot in front of the other.

 

 

 

 

Symbolism

Lately I’ve been all about calming my mind, understanding what I can and cannot control, trying to take it easy, and not sleeping very well because it’s the 9th circle of hell here. I’ve been up since 4am. I’ve listened to some meditations and tried to go back to sleep and can’t so here I sit. Blogging for the first time in more than a week.

Looking at my IVF journey so far, there is a tremendous amount of it that’s been out of my control. Yes, I’ve been doing what I can to better my outcomes, I eat properly *most of the time* sleep as much as my body allows me to, I get acupuncture and now chiropractic therapy for my whiplash. I’ve had cycles I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy and I’ve had 2 cycles that I wouldn’t trade for anything.

In the last 10 months, Ive had 9 egg retrieval’s, 1 failed transfer, created 2 blastocysts, my mother has been diagnosed with pancreatic and liver cancer. I’ve been in a car accident, my cat of 13 years died, I’ve fought (pointlessly) with my idiot sister, my dog has had a surgery so expensive, we had to cancel our vacation plans entirely. I’ve struggled with faith, trust, hope, believing in myself and wondered if I am doing the right thing for my husband and stepdaughter by pursuing this dream of mine. Its his dream too, but this is my blog. I’ve made some friends for the first time since..forever. Among our/my smaller accomplishments, I’ve taken another Mandarin class, re-landscaped the backyard with the hubs, learned how to bake the perfect croissant (yes it is in fact, the water) and made enough jam to provide every child in Orange County with toast and jam on their first day of school. I’ve made “fertility bracelets” from semi-precious stones and am about to open an Etsy store to sell them. Next month, I intend to learn to knit, and will undertake a complete redesign and architecture of my husband’s business website. If all goes according to plan, my fertility treatments will continue.

I’m a big believer in occupied hands lead to a more peaceful mind. The last 10 months have been anything but boring.

I’ve talked a lot about Chinese symbolism, I suppose that since I am Irish and Scottish I should be taking about Celtic symbolism. Symbolism has always been fascinating to me. It began when I was learning about my background and history, continued when I was learning Arabic, because to understand classical and colloquial Arabic you have to find the roots, to understand the roots, you need to understand the history, to understand the history you need to understand the evolution of language and sociology. All of which leads back to symbolism. In symbolism you can usually find more human similarities than differences. Understanding symbolism to me is like deciphering a message. Learning what the symbol is, what it means, why it means that, and its overall intent.

The symbols of my IVF journey are a few bracelets where each bead has a meaning, each charm symbolizes something, a necklace, my intentions, this blog, my hopes; and the things I’ve learned about myself. The necklace and bracelets are tangible reminders of what I lack, what I need to focus on and no matter the outcome, the person I hope to be.

I’ve learned that some words are very powerful when you need hope or faith or to believe. That offering those words to the person suffering is like offering water to a thirsty person. I’ve also learned to try to quiet my incredibly noisy mind, focus on my dreams and live there for a little while every day. Some days are harder than others but ultimately, I am getting the hang of it.

I wonder, when I reach the end of this journey, what my little symbols and talismans will mean to me then.