different story, same story

Almost another year has come and gone and some things are different and some have stayed the same.

I’m in a much better place both mentally and physically. I am just 7lbs shy from the weight I was when we first began this process almost 6 years ago. I’ve lost the 55lbs that I had gained somewhere between multiple miscarriages and depression over the years. I feel better in a hundred different ways! I mean, I’m still technically overweight and I’d like to continue this weight loss but now some things are changing slightly in my life, so we’ll see if i’ll be able to mentally handle the pressure.

We are still childless, and while the thought of that is upsetting and frustrating to me, I feel like I’ve come a ways out of my grieving dark hole since our losses. While we haven’t guarded against it, we haven’t been pregnant in a couple years, or experienced a loss. I think that has helped given me some space and distance to fully feel them, and begin to put myself back together. I haven’t felt so much like myself in five years. I’ve been enjoying life, and experiences and I needed this break.

I was reluctant to rejoin the child seeking masses and schedule an appointment at a specialty center at the beginning of the year. I was afraid of the procedures, medicines, diagnostics, and insanity of it weighing on my mind incessantly. We started the process early this spring and it was slow going at first. A lot of weeks in between appointments and follow ups. Suffice it to say, everything about me and my partner is normal, and working perfectly … I mean, except for the part about why the heck we cant get pregnant or stay pregnant. No one has answers for that, yet. I’m wondering if mentally or physically my body has had enough with losses and let down and has built a little wall inside my body. “None shall pass.”

Now comes the not so fun parts.  We’ve started the process to have an IUI this month. First, this feels like it’s happening fast because all of our previous appointments were weeks apart and we just decided this last week, and tonight I will be starting meds. I honestly hate taking any medicine. The plan is to do a few cycles, try to get pregnant again, and see if I can keep it this time. Because it’s been so long since our last pregnancy/loss I think the new clinic wants to see if anything has changed as far as, hey, maybe I can actually sustain life now, or maybe they can figure out what’s going on if I lose this one. Either way, it seems like no big deal to everyone there. Like, “Hey, just do a little IUI, get pregnant and see what happens.” Like it’s really so easy to 1. take meds and deal with side effects. 2. get pregnant. 3. stay pregnant. 4. have a miscarriage 5. deal with said miscarriage with Rhogam/DNC/grief whatever.  Oh yeah, and update all kinds of doctors and nurses on that process as I go. Yeah, totally easy. Nope.  BUT, I’m pulling out the big girl panties again and going for it, and trying not dwell on what I cant control, which is pretty much everything.

I have felt an old familiar anger and frustration and self pity bubble up recently. I thought I had dealt with these emotions, but apparently they were just out of sight, out of mind. I’m frustrated that I have to let everyone and their sister know about my period, my cycle, my losses, make phone calls and appointments, deal with insurance, and payments and schedules for me and my husband. And, it doesn’t help that the doctor is almost an hour away from my home, and about an hour and a half from my husband’s work. Not the simplest task to coordinate. It’s all completely inconvenient and it sucks. It really sucks. I think about how awful it must be to be ill, and to feel ill and to have to go to treatments and make appointments and how terrible that must feel. That would be an actual nightmare.  Then I feel even more awful about having these feelings. But truth is, this does suck, and it is inconvenient, and I do feel like I’m living in a nightmare sometimes.

This was the rabbit hole I was trying to avoid, but there is no way out but down. I’ve got to go down.

 

Honestly if it were up to just me I probably would have tried to foster or adopt by now. I just want a child and genetic connection doesn’t feel as important to me as the pain and drain of the past 5 years and a potential childless future. BUT marriages and partnerships are about compromise, so here we are.

it’s been a long time.

I don’t necessarily think that ignoring or dismissing something is the best coping strategy, especially when healing and growth need to occur.  I can say that for nearly a year now i’ve avoided this place (too many familiar sad stories), and i’ve stopped living by “What-ifs”. I’ve stopped thinking about wanting to be pregnant and our losses. I’ve stopped planning and arranging my life by pee sticks and days of the month. I’ve started to push myself to feel happy for friends and family with children (though not quite fully there).  I’ve liked their photos on Facebook and even smiled at a few diaper commercials.  I’m not in denial.  if I give pause and remind myself I’m easily flooded with painful emotion.  For the past almost year I’ve work to push these feelings aside … I’m not saying that’s the healthiest thing to do, because maybe it’s not, but my day-to-days have gotten easier. Maybe a little bit of denial is helpful in healing.  Maybe my mind needed/still needs a break. Maybe the constant reminders and sadness were keeping me stuck. I had to release some of that.

We haven’t been really trying to get pregnant for … I cant really even remember. Maybe a year and a half, maybe two.  I’ve stopped pre-natals, I’ve stopped testing and counting days. We haven’t prevented it from happening either.  Of course, nothing has happened, which is both good and bad.  Bad in the sense that, hey, it’s not totally normal to NOT get pregnant after having unprotected sex for a year and a half.  Good because that means I haven’t had to face the heartache of another miscarriage for a while now.  Actually, it’s been so long that i’ve started considering throwing my hat back into the ring.  Maybe we should start trying hard, charting days, and taking vitamins. My biggest and most real fear is that I will tailspin back into a pit of despair that i’ve worked really hard to scratch, claw and climb my way out of. It’s such a slippery slope. One ounce of hope or heartache could unravel any progress I’ve made … If I’ve made any true progress at all, I guess.

It’s just hard to think about going back down that rabbit hole. In this past year I’ve made some real positive changes in both my physical health and mental well being. I had gained all this weight because of the depression caused by 5 consecutive miscarriages and 4 years of trying for a live baby.  In this last year i’ve lost 20 of the 55 lbs I had gained (still have a ways to go!) I’ve slowly started working out and doing yoga. I’ve got a job that I really enjoy where I’m learning new things everyday. I’ve opened up more with my family about our struggles with recurrent pregnancy loss, and I find that sometimes a day or two can go by without sadness and thinking about my painful desire to have children. I have actual goals that aren’t centered around conceiving and maintaining pregnancy. I have interests and hobbies. I’ve been gentle and kind to myself. I’ve started to feel like me again.  Like, really me and not someone who’s trapped in a constant state of sorrow and cant see past the next five minutes. Not someone who’s trapped in a world of blocked friends on Facebook because she cant stand to see another birth announcement. Not someone who’s too scared to have an iced chai because of the caffeine or doesn’t want to plan a distant vacation for fear of flying pregnant. Not someone who can’t toast with champagne at a friend’s wedding. Not someone who gets jealous of people starting families much younger than she tried. Not someone who’s angry all the time. I’d really like to not be her again and I’m really worried that if we start trying harder then I might disappear into that abyss.

I have an appointment for my yearly with my GYN next week.  Truthfully, I haven’t been to see any doctor in over a year and a half  and I haven’t seen her in much longer.  I’m sure we will talk about things and maybe she will have some advice, maybe not.

I think we’re just kind of waiting for something good to happen to us. I know that’s unlikely, it doesn’t really work like that. People work hard for the good things they have in life and sometimes that includes children.  I think we’re just tired and waiting for lightning to strike.

Off the Hook: Avoiding Babies

The Universe was gentle on me yesterday.  Well, as gentle as she can be considering this 3-4 year journey that hasn’t been the easiest.

Not only do we struggle with Recurrent Pregnancy Loss, having had 4 miscarriages and another chemical pregnancy  (or 2, its hard to tell/keep track over the years) But we also struggle with the getting pregnant part.  Thankfully I don’t mean struggle in the sense that we’ve never been pregnant, that’s clear that we have…but unlike some couples with live babies and others who also struggle with RPL, we don’t get pregnant easily.  On average it takes us 8-12 months to conceive (which is near the later end of average for a normal couple- but average enough I suppose). The heart ache comes from monthly tiresome ovulation tests and the ever unwelcomed appearance of AF each month (the real heart ache comes when I miscarry after all that effort and time).  For the near 4 years of trying, we have only been pregnant “enough” 4 times.  Every month is a heart break and a let down.  I’ve become tuned into my bodies signs and signals and usually know ahead of time what is happening (be that pregnancy, or AF)…but it doesn’t stop me from hoping each month that its implantation bleeding etc.

I was asked earlier last month to watch a friends baby while she had an appointment.  I haven’t spent much time with this friend or her baby for numerous reasons….actually I didn’t meet the baby until he was 6mos old simply because I didn’t think I could handle it.  They had gotten pregnant accidentally and I found out not long after my  miscarriage, so I was a bit jealous and resentful and I wasn’t sure of how my reaction would be. Of course, when I met their baby for the first time I was pleasant, and held back any negative emotions. (Like my family, none of our friends know our struggle).  But it hurt.  I’ve been trying to work through this, and we have since seen the child a few more times.

So when she asked me to watch him for an hour or 2 I obliged.  I thought it was something I needed to work on…a hump to get over, something to overcome.  I contacted her yesterday to double check the time, and she told me that another friend there and was willing to stick around and watch the kid.

*phew*

AF had arrived earlier that morning and I was a bit relieved that I wasn’t going to have to test my resolve.  I was my usual emotional self, sad that the work we had put in last month was yet another disappointment, and I really did not want to be around all those baby toys and baby smells, and baby laughs.

I was thankful to the powers that be for letting me off the hook on that one.

 

(I worked in a preschool in a previous life…5 years ago…it would be a nice job to fall back on if I didn’t have so many hang ups.  I just don’t think I could stand to be around parents that don’t truly appreciate the gifts they have been given.)