Saturday, March 31, 2007

it happened in t.arget

When I came across the first ultrasound picture a few days ago, in the back of a drawer in the kitchen, I asked D what he wanted to do with it. "Throw it away?", I said, to which he replied without hesitation, "Yes." And so I did, without much thought or contemplation.

When I realized on Monday I would've been through the uncertainty of the first trimester, and into the safety of the second (hey, I can still be optomistic right?), I wasn't really sad or upset, just . . . .nothing. It was weird.

When earlier this week, when I realized a close friend, who is due in June, invited us out to her new house that will be finished in November, I thought that I would'nt have a baby with me too, and we couldn't talk about lack of sleep or chapped nipples (not that I would talk about that anyway, at least not until I'd had some drinks), or onesies, or boppies, or Baby Einstein videos. Actually, we would never talk about all of that anyway, because neither one of us, despite loving them, are all baby people. We would probably talk about work and our crazy families. Not there is anything WRONG with that, mind you, just saying what we would do.

I was in T.arget yesterday, returning some stuff and buying more stuff, which is what I tend to do whenever I go there. And I walked by a display of baby girl Easter dresses. There was one. It was pink and green gingham, with the big white collar, and with little bunnies hopping sweetly along the hem. With matching bloomers.

And I stood there and stared at it. And it was then that I realized, realized emotionally, that our sweet baby girl was dead. And she would never wear that dress.

And, I STILL did not cry. I got a sick feeling in my stomach, I got a fuzzy feeling in my brain. But STILL I didn't cry.

I went and looked at shoes. But I didn't buy any.

I thought about going back and buying the dress. But I didn't.

When I was telling D about it, as we were lying in bed last night, and he was looking at me in the way he does when he wants to make the pain go away, I started to cry. And I cried and cried. It was an ugly, all out snotty cry.

And it felt good to know I miss her, really miss her. Miss who she was going to be, the tantrums she was going to throw, showing her how to plant flowers and vegetables, which birds eat the finch food in the backyard, what ants are good and which are bad, how to pet the cat, how not to pull the dogs ears, where worms live and how to make brownies. And watch her learn everything for the first time, with all the complete fascination and wonderment children have.

"Really, mama, worms live in the dirt? What do they eat? Do worms have a mama and a daddy and brothers and sisters too? When do they sleep? Where do they go to the bathroom?"

I can say now that I am finally dealing with it, and that it is ok to miss her.

Bye sweet girl.

Thursday, March 29, 2007

well, what did you do today, tipsymarie?

A whole bunch of of nothing, thanks for asking. Not really nothing, just nothing productive. Which is wholly inexcusable, since I've been up since 6:45 and it is now 8:00. Yep.

I did obsessively google "weird period after D&C", "period stopping and then starting after miscarriage", "first menstruation after D&C", and on and on. My period is playing a fun game of peek-a-boo. It started Saturday night with some super weird dark brown discharge, which has happened before, then turned our girl red and was steady going until Monday when it just stopped inexplicably and from then until today, barely some staining here and there. Then today, Ms. Red reappeared for like, 5 minutes or something. Actually, before Saturday, I'd been spotting off and on for about a week. All normal probably, but I am tired of leaking. Enough already.


Hey, do you think I should ask my Dr. what's going on? Let's take a brief moment to look into that possibility:

Me: Well, I'm not sure if this is normal or not but . . . (insert above paragraph detailing the leakage).
Him: Uh-huh. Yes, that could be normal for someone who's menstrual cycle was irregular before her pregnancy.
Me: Ok. When you say could, as in the "Could be normal", could it also NOT be normal, and in the event that it is, in fact, not normal, what can be done about it? Also, when should I expect this to stop so I can get back to my sexin' ways? Because this is putting a major damper on that.
Him: There is no way to tell when and if it will change.
Me: So, if YOU were leaking blood from your penis, and YOU had to walk around wondering about this all the time, wondering if it was normal, keeping you from feeling like yourself because it was a constant and continual reminder of your dysfunctional reproductive system and the baby you just lost, THAT'S what you would say?
Him: I have to go speak at a conference on the effects of bedside manner and the psychoemotional state of chronically infertile women. Can I use you as a case study?

I think that is why many of us google like little google freak heads. Just saying.

yes, pictures can be quite helpful to express the obvious

Seriously. After reading this and getting all pissed off, I did have quite the chuckle at the picture towards the end of the article. That really says it all, doesn't it?

Maybe they also need easy to understand diagrams that can:
1. show condom application
2. daily ingestion of birth control pills
3. not having sex

My conscience just put in its two cents as I was typing. And I thought she could be a victim of something horrible, like incest or another form of rape. In that case, I am sorry, girl/woman who abandoned your babies. Maybe you really didn't have any other choice. Maybe you are ridiculously young and scared and didn't know what else to do.

But in case that's NOT what happened to you, the above (#1-3) still apply.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

code red

I was a complete and total raging freak last week. It was really out of control.
Between yelling, sulking, whining and complaining, I cried at the following:
1. traffic
2. the lack of matching/coordinating plants I wanted to purchase for the yard at Low.e's
3. the empty peanut butter jar
4. wrinkles in my clothes
5. the pet food disaster that's been on the news
6. various commericals
7. nothing at all.

I really thought I was experiencing some kind of post trauma from the miscarriage or something. It was exactly 4 weeks ago last Wednesday, so that made sense. And then, I was like no, everyone else in my life lives to irritate me. And that seemed just a little irrational. So maybe that was wrong too. Basically, I was about ready to go to the doctor and beg for some X.anax.

And then . . .

My period started. It had been so long since I'd had PMS mood issues like that I'd literally *forgotten* how bad and uncontrollable my moods are. It is really, really bad. I spent all day Sunday apologizing to my husband. He was as always kind and took it as in stride as much as someone who has never had PMS can.

I was thinking of all the nicknames we use for our periods. Aunt Flo, the monthly visitor, surfing the crimson tide, you know the others. But I bet you didn't know just how MANY names it has. What's that? You would like a link to the website that has all of them? You have time to spend reading about this? Because well, I did. Yep. Sure did. I will warn you, some of them are quite bizarre.

Friday, March 23, 2007

does anyone . . .

know jess's email address at the problem with hope? I read her blog regularly and now it's pwp.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

what the friggin frick??

Hi, and welcome to this week's installment of "What the Friggin' Frick". Enjoy, and as always thanks for playing!

1. My husband (I still have not come up with a cute bloggy name yet, maybe soon) and I had a argument this weekend. I should say we argue a lot, but we love each other more. It makes for quite the conundrum. If anyone wanted to make a reality show of our marriage, it would be called any variations of the following:
a. When Total Opposites Marry Each Other: A Case Study in Insanity
b. Why Do You Make Me Constantly Bang My Head Against the Wall, both Literally and Figuratively?
c. Understanding your Partner Through Ill Understood Body Cues: How to Avoid Using Actual Words in a Converstation
d. Wait! I Love You! Wait! You Drive Me Completely Crazy!

Anyway, I think you get the picture. We are totally different, and I wonder how it will work once we have kids. Actually, I can't even think that far ahead.

Let me set the stage: He went and spent close to $200 on himself last weekend, running gear. He's an avid runner. I said not a word about this, because it's none of my business. We're adults, both gainfully employed, and I just don't think I should tell him how to spend our money. This is not a two way street. I mentioned that I MIGHT go and buy myself either this C.oach bag I've been wanting, OR (and that or is important) a pair of jeans roughly the same cost. And then, the comments began. "You know, Tipsymarie, we have credit card debt, and don't you think we should pay that off first?" (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) UM, OK, SUUUURRRRREEEEE.

I stewed about this all day, and it eventually erupted into not exactly an argument as much as me saying "We've been married for 4 years, together for 7. Please respect my judgment an understand since I'm IN MY 30s, work VERY hard, that when I want to OCCASIONALLY buy myself something nice, keep your comments to yourself please." Ok, I didn't say please. And it was an argument, complete with looking at past credit card statements at 2 in the morning to see just WHO spent WHAT.

Guess what? We both spend a lot of money on random stuff. Glad we got that one cleared up.

2. Cat pee. Turns out my cat, my sweet sweet baby, has been urinating not on the carpet, but on the inside of the desk my husband built from scratch. So, we had to get rid of it. I felt terrible for him - he spent forever on that desk, and it was really nice. But, my cat has always resented him from the moment he moved in with me. My cat would drag my husband's boxers and socks into his litter box and pee all over them in the beginning. So, I guess all these years later, he's still holding that grudge.

3. Why the hell am I spotting 4 weeks after my d&c? And actually exactly a week ago for two days too. And as of this tuesday, my beta was 7.

Dear horomones and associated dysfuntional parts, oh what the hell, my whole endocrine system:
Please stop being little bitches and do what you are supposed to. Stop making me call the nurse and ask her these questions, having to take her calls at work when I can't really talk anyway. Also, she is tired of me calling. So knock it the fuck off.
Oh, and, hey. One last thing. Making a DECENT FUCKING EGG. Yeah. I'm not asking nicely anymore. Because your performace thus far has sucked hard.
Thank you,

How cool would that be if it worked, right?

4. Man, work is pissing me off. But not the kids. Sure, they are frustrating, but they are kids so they have an excuse. No, it's the adults who act like kids with their stupid petty pettiness. Please people. Enough.

5. We have a consulation appointment with our RE next week. If his normal bedside manner is what he's bringing to the table, after all the crap we've gone through there the last 2 years, then we are taking my inches thick file elsewhere. This was not an easy decision to reach, you see, because he's written many books on my condition and actually answers questions on internet forums, which is how I found him in the first place. So, if HE can't help us, who can, right? But then I realized maybe he's not really what we need. Just because he's Dr. Expert doesn't mean he will be my expert. Know what I mean?


Blogger is being a bitch. I was going to post the weekly "what the . . . . " last night, but it was supremely unsuccessful. I just KNOW some of you are dying with the suspense. I will get with it after work.

Please go visit Nicole and Serenity. They need you now.

Saturday, March 17, 2007

so, work out or blog?

So obviously I chose to blog. I hate going into my dark, icky basement to get on the treadmill. I call it Cat Pee Cave. This is for two reasons:

1. the litter box is down there
2. my cat does not regularly use the litter box, instead deciding to pee under the desk which is directly behind the treadmill. Yes, I know this is really gross. There's not much I can do, although I've thought of spreading dog hair under the desk. You know, because cats hate dogs? That's pretty nasty too. So I don't know. Whatever.

I worry that I'm doing some kind of permanent damage to my lungs inhaling the fumes.

But really, it's not that bad. I just use it more of an excuse to not go down there and run, I much prefer to go outside, but right now, due to lovely metformin, not so much an option. I'm not much of a woods squatter. Eeew.

The Metformin induced sprinting has subsided a little bit. I stopped taking anything else (like prenatals and calcium supplements) yesterday thinking maybe it was all just a little too much for Mr. Tummy. I don't know why, but I always think of my stomach and associated parts in the system as male.

I fantasize about the day when I can stop taking it AND have a healthy baby. I honestly cannot imagine what it must be like to just get pregnant because you want to, without having to endure metformin, miscarriages, belly shots, butt shots, dildocams, disconnected Drs. (what? maybe my RE? oh? did I just say that out loud? darn.), thousands of $$ gone, early ass morning appointments that you rush to because you don't want to be late for work, every other FREAKING day for weeks on end, blood draws and the associated bruising, (i LIKE wearing short sleeves in July, thank you very much), yes, you could say I'm at the end of my rope, two years in to this mess. And, if one more well intentioned person asks me "Now, WHY don't you want to do IVF? That seems like your best shot." Right, because it's a guaranteed healthy baby at the end.

Wow! I guess I'm a little more frustrated than I realized. And to think I woke up in a fine mood this morning. But, I do feel better. Now down to Cat Pee Cave.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

urgh, metformin

Well, I am not pregnant, nor about to ovulate. There is still hcg floating around, the number was 25 on Tuesday, 3 weeks after the D&C. Really. Any day now, hcg. Hey. I am talking to you. Get out of my body please, pretty please. I'm kind of over this already.

In other news, I've been on 1000 mg of Metformin for, well, forever. And as I read other blogs I notice most are on 1500 or 1700 a day. So I asked my nurse, and she was shocked I wasn't on the 1700 a day. What? No one, in ALL of my countless trips to the dr, has ANYONE said ANYTHING about this. This might have to be part of next week's What the Friggin' Frick.

So, I started this increase day before yesterday, and OH MY GOD. The gastrointestinal upset has been, erm, totally disguisting and most unwarranted. I don't remember this at all when I first started on the 1000 mg, but my husband said he remembered me going on and on about it. I probably did. I am like 80 years old talking to my husband about my bowel habits, but it is reciprocated. We're cool like that, if you can call that cool.

So I am going to brave this for a little while longer, and if it doesn't improve, then I am not going ot torture myself any further. And, it doesn't seem to matter what I eat, because it's a lot of rice and bread and such right now. I haven't been able to eat quite a few things high in fat since I started on this completely ineffective drugs a couple of years ago. But, maybe the 1700 a day will make a difference - right? Yes, right.

Monday, March 12, 2007

what the friggin' frick?

I hope to make the "what the friggin' frick" a weekly installment. A list of incomprehensible things both from my personal life, other people's business and the news.

1. I've been craving tuna fish salad like crazy. Which I normally hate. With extra onions. Which as I type this sounds just nasty, but I did just eat a whole mess of it.
So, I've figured out the possible reasons for this, due to ALL the extra time I have on my hands lately. Not really, but it is hard to get sarcasm across on the interweb. Maybe I should use more italics, bolding, and other such techniques.
Possibility A: I am pregnant roughly 3 weeks after my D&C, without a detectable ovulation, not that much sex, but we all know that you are SO much more fertile after a D&C. I mean, the sperm practically dance up your hooha, knock on your ovaries, take out the egg for a whirl in a shiny new red convertible, and viola! make a nest in your newly vacuumed and shampooed ute. It says so on all those infertility blogs. Maybe it's boy/girl twins. But I guess they are done for since I am slowly killing them with mercury.
Possiblity B: I am about to ovulate. I read a study linking increased estrogen to increased craving of tuna fish. Hey now, I bet if you asked the google oracle in just the right way, that study exists somewhere on the internet.
Possibilty C: Erm, I am crazy? Yes, this is certainly the most likely of the three. Tuna fish with extra onion? Yep, something weird is going on somewhere in my brain.**

2. In the news, a baby was found in a gym bag in the parking lot of a townhome complex. Up near a fence. It was no longer alive. This bothered me more than I thought it would. I just thought about the baby we just lost, and here was a healthy baby boy literally thrown away. I guess he could've been stillborn, and the mother could be a superyoung, superscared teenager. That's about the only way it's forgivable, and even then I'm not sure.

3. It is 80 degrees here today and will be again tomorrow. 14 years ago here, we were about to have a monster blizzard in the atl. That's the south for you.

4. I am thinking of going to a tanning bed. I know, I know. It is totally bad for you. Like, TOTALLY, Mrs. Tipsymarie, as I was informed today by a girl whom I'm quite sure goes year round, with her mother. So she should know. But, I am tired of my translucent paleness. It's like a roadmap of veins on my chest and legs and such. I still can't help but think I'm slowly being cooked, but hey, I will at least have the glow of good health.

5. I am thinking about getting breast implants. Yes, I am quite sure I am crazy. We can't afford it, the thought of two bags of silicone sitting atop my major organs is just plan scary, no matter what Dr. R.obert R.ey says (um, can you really trust any man with super fakey highlights and shiny, brightly colored suits that look cheap but probably cost more than my mortgage? I am going to say no) and for the sheer fact they are fake. But from time to time, I do fantasize about buxom volouptiousness, and it makes implants almost seem like the best idea ever. I do wonder what any plastic surgery wizard could do with my measley 34 barely A's. Thanks Playtex bras, for your nearly A's. It was awesome buying one the other day right after a prepubescent 13 year old picked one up. Yep, totally awesome.

6. I think my recent foray into abject vanity is to reinvent my femininity. Because, we all know fertile women are really, really tan, with really, really, perky full boobs.

Friday, March 9, 2007

the results are in

The Dr. himself called me yesterday to explain the chromosome analysis - it was abnormal, very much so, and it was a girl.

I don't think I'm dealing with this in a "normal" way - whatever normal means, anyway. I was not attached to this baby, a self protective measure I'm sure. I spent so much time analyzing pregnancy symptoms and obsessing over every twinge I left no time to feel. I'm sure this was no accident. I don't WANT to miss something that was never going to be.

What I'm most upset about is my lost sense of optomism and innocence. If I ever get pregnant again, I do not think I will be able to enjoy it, to feel an instant kinship with my little life at the first hint of a second line. I will count every day as one day closer to when he or she arrives, missing the sweet details of each day of a pregnancy. I will count every kick, hiccup, and feel tense before every ultrasound instead of heady anticipation.

And when the big day finally arrives, I will not relax and know everything will be fine, because everything has not been fine, and I am the exception rather than the rule.

When will it end? Will I stay awake staring, making sure he or she is breathing rhythmically when they're a tiny baby? Will I let them play outside, even when I can't see them every minute, assuming the worst when I can't find them after 45 seconds of hysterical name calling?

I just want to relax, and let it happen, and enjoy the greatest gift we can get. But I can't.

To me, this is the biggest injustice of infertility.

Saturday, March 3, 2007

a little numbness? why thank you!

This week has been pretty good. Loads of workplace drama to keep me more than occupied. That is addictive, for sure. Oh yeah, and then actually working in between gossipping. And I went out and got drunk last night, I forgot how much fun that can be. And since I haven't had a drink in awhile and take metformin, I was paying for it at 3 this morning. But it was worth it.

Yesterday, I went in for a blood draw to make sure my hcg is dropping adequately. I guess it is? I don't know. Those of you who have experience with this can help me out - it was close to 400 a little over a week since my D&C. When the nurse called she said it was kind of high, and to come back in next Friday. So I guess we will see then. I will probably google myself silly later.

Someone who normally never draws blood did it yesterday. And that is not good. I have very small, thin veins that roll. When someone new does it, they are all "My, your veins are NOT good!" or "In all my years, I've NEVER had such trouble!" Yeah, thanks. I get it. I am a walking dysfunctional bag of DNA who is not bothered at all by your crude, albeit true, remarks.

I digress.

They took it from the vein I have that pops up on the top of my wrist. It happens to sit directly on top of a large bone. And they used a monster needle. It was freaking HUGE. And it hurt like the bejeezus. But at least it was done.

So after I got to work, I was typing and noticed my thumb was numb . . . . ?? And the weirdest part was I did not even care, in fact, I was amused by this. And I thought, hey, I will blog about this tomorrow.

And do you know what else? It was fine a few hours later. No freak out needed.