Normally, I enjoy reading New York Times "Social Qs" column, but today it left me furious. A lady who'd apparently been struggling with infertility and finally got pregnant is asking how to break her good news. (I wonder who on earth, after going through the ordeal of infertility, does not know how NOT to handle this, but whatever). The advice Philip Galanes gives her? Priceless. "Share your intimate news intimately. Tell pals one on one, especially those you suspect may be struggling with fertility issues." So basically, the poor unsuspecting victim of the good news has nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, and has to put on a brave face and offer heartfelt congratulations? I don't think so. Give another person a space to process the news, give her a chance to cry in private, and then to congratulate you. Via email, again. Please. Don't do it face to face, ever. And if Mr. Galanes took time to look up hundreds of infertility blogs, he wouldn't have given such a cruel advice.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
Monday, March 16, 2015
Silence
We used to be friends. Then I moved far away, but we kept occasionally emailing and generally keeping in touch. She was the first one of my friends whom I told about my second miscarriage. And the first. All in the same email, in a bleak December 2013 - and it was also about the deaths of my grandparents the very same year. Sort of "end of the year" report. I've never heard back from her. Soon, through a social media, I learned she was expecting her third child. Okay, I thought. Pregnant and preoccupied and having no time for my dark pit, I get it, totally. I decided to let it go and not to show how much her lack of reaction bothered me.
Recently, she reached out again, after one of my sad musings online. Just a general "hey, thinking of you" stuff. Life, apparently, failed to teach me anything, so I dutifully explained that hey, third and fourth miscarriages, and then a surgery, what a charmed life I live.
She replied. She never ever acknowledged my losses. Like I never even mentioned them. This silence, this total ignoring of my pain - it hurts so freaking much.
Two strikes, you are out.
Friday, March 13, 2015
Just another day
In June 2013, we went to a 2-year-old birthday party. Later, the birthday girl's mom posted pictures of the event, and even now, I cannot look at them. Because this was the day my first miscarriage started. I was half-expecting it - the ultrasound scan did not show anything but the fetal pole on my 7th week - but still the spotting came as a horrible blow.
On this party, the birthday girl's mom asked the ladies present if they are planning to have a second child. Well, it's been almost two years. Every single fucking woman from that party is either pregnant of have had a second baby recently. Every fucking one.
Except me.
And I seriously need to go offline. Hate is not healthy and not productive, but sometimes it's the only thing I feel. And yes, I hate myself for being like this, too.
On this party, the birthday girl's mom asked the ladies present if they are planning to have a second child. Well, it's been almost two years. Every single fucking woman from that party is either pregnant of have had a second baby recently. Every fucking one.
Except me.
And I seriously need to go offline. Hate is not healthy and not productive, but sometimes it's the only thing I feel. And yes, I hate myself for being like this, too.
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Hypochondria
Somewhere around this time three years ago I experienced my first anxiety attacks. First, I didn't realize what it was. I thought this was somehow a breastfeeding-related issue - I was drastically cutting down on breastfeeding, my breasts were sore, and I remember trying to explain a startled lactation coordinator this horrible feeling of a black cloud suffocating me. Few factors collided to become a trigger for my anxiety - my own health history, my friend's horrible diagnosis, and probably the partial weaning and the following hormonal shitstorm did not help matters as well. Since then, I've became a hypochondriac. I regularly feel symptoms, get scared, go to the doctor, receive simple explanation, breath out, symptoms vanish. I get a few weeks break. And then it starts again. And of course this next time I am completely sure that something is terribly wrong with me.
The recurrent pregnancy loss does not help matters. After three miscarriages, it became obvious that the idea of trying anew creates a new trigger for me. In September, before we were given a go-ahead, I had all kinds of psychosomatic issues - suddenly, my neck hurt, I'd have trouble emptying my bladder, my breasts hurt, etc. It felt like my body was protesting against whatever torture was ahead. In some way, my body was right - I did end up with another chemical pregnancy in October.
So now I started a new cycle and will be trying again soon, and of course my hypochondria is out, surprisingly not in full force, but still it's here and it's loud. Somehow successful pregnancy seems like a cure from it, but I know this is not the case. Rather, it would probably give my anxieties a new focus. Oh well.
The recurrent pregnancy loss does not help matters. After three miscarriages, it became obvious that the idea of trying anew creates a new trigger for me. In September, before we were given a go-ahead, I had all kinds of psychosomatic issues - suddenly, my neck hurt, I'd have trouble emptying my bladder, my breasts hurt, etc. It felt like my body was protesting against whatever torture was ahead. In some way, my body was right - I did end up with another chemical pregnancy in October.
So now I started a new cycle and will be trying again soon, and of course my hypochondria is out, surprisingly not in full force, but still it's here and it's loud. Somehow successful pregnancy seems like a cure from it, but I know this is not the case. Rather, it would probably give my anxieties a new focus. Oh well.
Friday, February 20, 2015
Breathe
Today was one of those days... everything was seemingly fine, but I had to remind myself to breathe. Breathe, breathe, just try to get through it. No miracles, just you and your body. Please breathe.
Other random stuff:
1. Somewhere on the net there was a discussion of how do women announce their pregnancies, and it just broke my heart again. Just imagine the innocence of all these people, who assume their two lines would eventually lead to an actual baby. I so wish I still had it.
2. Another friend, whom I haven't seen in a loooong time, turned out to be expecting, due in a month. I must be developing a sixth sense where the pregnancies are concerned: I've seen her husband on a party in the beginning of October, and when I asked about her, he said that she was home sick. His smirk was somewhat incongruous, so I suspected she was not sick as in sick, but sick as in morning sickness sick. And it turns out I was right. Oh well.
3. We are a backup childcare support for another friend in case she has to have her baby earlier. The irony of it.
4. I am just not good in waiting. Now I wait until I recover from surgery completely, get my period, and start peeing on sticks and have baby-dance. Just doing something, anything, to get another chance.
5. I emailed the Dr. of a "crappy uterus" theory to update him on the surgery results. I asked him if any changes in my supplement protocol are in order. He never emailed me back. I realize he is busy but I cannot help but think he is just not interested, not having received any support for his original theory. And this is so disappointing - two of my friends recommended him as the best doctor they'd ever had. Guess I wasn't so lucky. Again.
Meanwhile, I am slowly reintroducing some of the supplements back again. However, I am not that keen anymore. Yesterday, I took konjak root (fiber), and now I finally know which one of my medications gave me the horrible gassiness all the way. This is one supplement I do not really want to take anymore.
I also Googled "supplements to improve egg quality". Some of these sound downright nasty, so I have to think which ones I am willing to tolerate, especially since there is no medical professional to guide me through the process.
Other random stuff:
1. Somewhere on the net there was a discussion of how do women announce their pregnancies, and it just broke my heart again. Just imagine the innocence of all these people, who assume their two lines would eventually lead to an actual baby. I so wish I still had it.
2. Another friend, whom I haven't seen in a loooong time, turned out to be expecting, due in a month. I must be developing a sixth sense where the pregnancies are concerned: I've seen her husband on a party in the beginning of October, and when I asked about her, he said that she was home sick. His smirk was somewhat incongruous, so I suspected she was not sick as in sick, but sick as in morning sickness sick. And it turns out I was right. Oh well.
3. We are a backup childcare support for another friend in case she has to have her baby earlier. The irony of it.
4. I am just not good in waiting. Now I wait until I recover from surgery completely, get my period, and start peeing on sticks and have baby-dance. Just doing something, anything, to get another chance.
5. I emailed the Dr. of a "crappy uterus" theory to update him on the surgery results. I asked him if any changes in my supplement protocol are in order. He never emailed me back. I realize he is busy but I cannot help but think he is just not interested, not having received any support for his original theory. And this is so disappointing - two of my friends recommended him as the best doctor they'd ever had. Guess I wasn't so lucky. Again.
Meanwhile, I am slowly reintroducing some of the supplements back again. However, I am not that keen anymore. Yesterday, I took konjak root (fiber), and now I finally know which one of my medications gave me the horrible gassiness all the way. This is one supplement I do not really want to take anymore.
I also Googled "supplements to improve egg quality". Some of these sound downright nasty, so I have to think which ones I am willing to tolerate, especially since there is no medical professional to guide me through the process.
Thursday, February 12, 2015
Today
So the results are back, and they're good. My uterus is completely healthy and there's no indication of any problems whatsoever. So, does this mean I just have crappy eggs? That my luck just ran out? Yes, we did buy a Powerball ticket yesterday, and we did not get a single number right.
Oh, and our friends are expecting a baby. Their fourth. Two boys, two girls. I wish them luck, they are a wonderful family. But I am still in tears.
Saturday, February 7, 2015
Surgery
So, my surgery was yesterday. It was a stressful week: what with a sick kid at home, me listening intently to every little nerve in my body and with us trying to sanitize the hell out of everything so I wouldn't end up sick too - which would have had cancelled the surgery, and frankly the thought of waiting another two months was unbearable.
Still, the day came, and there I was. I started crying when they started poking needles and inserting IV's and such - just out of sheer helplessness and the sad familiarity of this situation. In 2008, I've been in the same hospital, having to do pretty much the same surgery instead of getting pregnant and having a baby, as we planned. That fall was one of the darkest moments of my life, but then we got lucky. We got our baby, and now we want to give her a sibling - and look where I am, again.
The doctor didn't come to talk to me after I came out of anesthesia - the nurses told me she's going to call me today, but she did not, it being Saturday. She did call my husband after my surgery ended, though. Basically she told him that everything went smoothly, that there was nothing unexpected to be found, that she found "a bit of" endometriosis, but not much, and treated it, and that my tubes are clear. She took out the endometrioma, and "also something from the left side". The latter makes me uneasy. We did not discuss what to do if there is some other cyst on my other ovary. My ovaries tend to form cysts, most of them disappear within one or two cycles. Why would she take away some harmless cyst and thereby decrease my precious ovarian tissue even more? Why would she do that, especially since we did talk in detail about how worried I am about the ovarian reserve?! Was it something else, or is it just a reflection on how surgeons think - "let's cut out everything extra" - as opposed to normal people? I need to talk to her about it, but I feel quite aggravated now, when I think about it.
I am also childishly disappointed in this whole lack of answers. For some reason, I thought that she would find a lot of endometriosis there, which would have explained fertility issues, spotting between periods, weird sensations and basically all the symptoms in this particular area. Since it wasn't the case, and since nothing she found there looks like it could be the culprit, we are back to square one. Try, try again.
Once the results of all tests come back, I am going to start on the vitamins, supplements, and Doxycycline again, and if everything goes well, we will start trying next cycle. Hitting the same wall again, expecting different results - now this is what passes for sanity in our household...
Still, the day came, and there I was. I started crying when they started poking needles and inserting IV's and such - just out of sheer helplessness and the sad familiarity of this situation. In 2008, I've been in the same hospital, having to do pretty much the same surgery instead of getting pregnant and having a baby, as we planned. That fall was one of the darkest moments of my life, but then we got lucky. We got our baby, and now we want to give her a sibling - and look where I am, again.
The doctor didn't come to talk to me after I came out of anesthesia - the nurses told me she's going to call me today, but she did not, it being Saturday. She did call my husband after my surgery ended, though. Basically she told him that everything went smoothly, that there was nothing unexpected to be found, that she found "a bit of" endometriosis, but not much, and treated it, and that my tubes are clear. She took out the endometrioma, and "also something from the left side". The latter makes me uneasy. We did not discuss what to do if there is some other cyst on my other ovary. My ovaries tend to form cysts, most of them disappear within one or two cycles. Why would she take away some harmless cyst and thereby decrease my precious ovarian tissue even more? Why would she do that, especially since we did talk in detail about how worried I am about the ovarian reserve?! Was it something else, or is it just a reflection on how surgeons think - "let's cut out everything extra" - as opposed to normal people? I need to talk to her about it, but I feel quite aggravated now, when I think about it.
I am also childishly disappointed in this whole lack of answers. For some reason, I thought that she would find a lot of endometriosis there, which would have explained fertility issues, spotting between periods, weird sensations and basically all the symptoms in this particular area. Since it wasn't the case, and since nothing she found there looks like it could be the culprit, we are back to square one. Try, try again.
Once the results of all tests come back, I am going to start on the vitamins, supplements, and Doxycycline again, and if everything goes well, we will start trying next cycle. Hitting the same wall again, expecting different results - now this is what passes for sanity in our household...
Monday, January 26, 2015
Thumbelina
In the shower today, for some reason I thought about Thumbelina, a tiny girl from a fairytale. It occurred to me that this is sort of a miscarriage parable: there was a woman who wanted kids and couldn't have them. And then she got this little seed, and the girl who was born as a result was ever so tiny... So basically, in my warped mind, it goes like this: a miscarriage happened, and the baby was carried away by water, and the whole story is just a dream... that's why Thumbelina never returned to her mom.
Sunday, January 25, 2015
Surgery consultation
So last week, we went for a consultation with a Dr. who's going to do my surgery in two weeks. Surprisingly, she talked mostly about things she would be doing to enhance my fertility: endometriosis removed, hysteroscopy done, tubes checked and flashed out (they did not get to tubes during HSG, since I freaked them out by freaking out basically), etc. She told us that she has 5 kids - and had 8 miscarriages ("and maybe more", she added, since there were probably some undetected chemical pregnancies). She was competent and reassuring, and I almost started to hope that maybe, maybe this would help. Then I remember my crappy AMH - and it was a year ago - and my age and all that - and also the fact that I still have to get through the actual surgery. I had two cystectomies before, and this is not much fun... and I don't even want to think about the whole "bowel preparation" protocol beforehand. And now we just have one bathroom. Oh joy.
I am also scared about having my kid here, witnessing the painful recovery process. We don't have family close by, and while the daytimes are covered with her preschool, she would still be home for the weekend right after the surgery, the hardest time.
I am also scared about having my kid here, witnessing the painful recovery process. We don't have family close by, and while the daytimes are covered with her preschool, she would still be home for the weekend right after the surgery, the hardest time.
Monday, January 19, 2015
A year
Today marks a year since the due date for a - what word should I use here? baby? embryo? product of conception? - which became my first miscarriage. Last year my cousin gave birth to her kid on this very day, too, and I was crying and thought my heart was breaking again. Little did I know. I went on to have more miscarriages, and now it's all on hold; I em expecting my surgery, and I am not sure I would be able to even get pregnant anymore after that. Sometimes I feel like a freaking Ancient Mariner with all this history piling up on my chest, and with this overwhelming urge to come to every FB entry of moms of two and more who complain about their hectic schedule and sleepless nights, and tell them how lucky they are. I have managed to keep myself from doing it, so far. I certainly need to get a life. Some other kind of life that doesn't involve online... or babies, or playgrounds, or baby stuff in our garage. An adult, post-fertile kind of life. I typed this, and then I remembered a 7-months pregnant woman sitting down next to me in sushi bar. Of all places.
I just need to somehow let it go, let go of all these - babies? embryos? products of conception? - and my dreams for them. Let it go, there's life to live and a kid to love and take care of, and a husband to love, and parents to email and call and Skype with, and all kinds of relatives I need to keep in the loop of my and my kid's life if I want her to have relationships with them. I just feel so painfully unable to reach out. Sometimes I feel I have nothing to say to any of them.
I just need to somehow let it go, let go of all these - babies? embryos? products of conception? - and my dreams for them. Let it go, there's life to live and a kid to love and take care of, and a husband to love, and parents to email and call and Skype with, and all kinds of relatives I need to keep in the loop of my and my kid's life if I want her to have relationships with them. I just feel so painfully unable to reach out. Sometimes I feel I have nothing to say to any of them.
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