Archive for Baby talk

um…..

the wingless one / June 4, 2012 / One comment

I’m freaking out in a major way right now.

I started feeling really down about our chances over the weekend because I wasn’t feeling anything out of the ordinary.  No sore bo.obies, no out of the ordinary sensations, just normal normal normal.  I knew it was early but for some reason I just started feeling like this is not going to happen this month.

However, at work today, I started thinking, maybe I should just go ahead and test since I’m seeing my nephro today anyway and on the very slight chance I saw anything I could ask to have a blood test done.

I held my pee all day for the last four hours of work and as soon as I got in the house I ran upstairs, peed into a cup and dipped the test in.  I really, truly expected to see what I’ve always seen in the past – the test line and stark white nothingness.  Especially since I’m only 9dpo, I figured the chances were slim of seeing anything even if I do get pregnant this cycle.

I waited about four minutes and looked at the test.  At first glance, I was like meh, negative as expected.  But then I looked a little harder and took my glasses off and put it almost up to my face.  I thought there was something really faint there.  I ran out of the restroom to the window and stared at it under the sunlight.  A line so faint that I really couldn’t tell if it was just that I’d been staring so hard at the test line that I was seeing a line where there wasn’t one.

Commence massive sweating and freak out.  I called my doctors office to see if they’d let me come in early to take a blood test but they said just to come in at the appt time and if it makes sense they will order one for me then.

I took a picture of it for my friend EndoJourney to inspect (she confirmed that at least the line is not in my head, but now I’m like wait I took that pic after ten minutes, what if it’s an evap line?!?) and couldn’t figure out why the picture was so blurry until I realized I didn’t have my glasses on.  As you can tell by this incredibly disjointed post.  I am freaking the fuck out right now.  Please, please, please don’t be a ghost line or any other kind of messing with my head line.

Leaving for doc now.  Hopefully will have something better to post later.

Category: Baby talk /

procrastinating

the wingless one / May 31, 2012 / No comments

Look at me posting two days in a row!

I am supposed to go get some labs done but for some reason I’m really dreading it today.  Maybe it’s because the draws at this lab almost always hurt.  Or maybe I just enjoyed the past few weeks of not having my veins molested.  All I know is I really, really don’t feel like being poked right now.

Unfortunately for me, at last check my liver enzymes were stable but still higher than normal so that needs to be monitored.  And even though my rheumy did not seem concerned that my complement levels were low (low C3 and C4 are a sign of active lupus), I know from looking at my past labs that they were on the low side even given my always low numbers.  So for my own peace of mind I’d kind of like to see them again before we have to really start factoring pregnancy into the equation.  I’m assuming that since I’m only 5dpo right now that even if there is something fertilized and swimming around in there it shouldn’t be affecting my numbers yet.  Or if it is…well…that would be a really bad sign wouldn’t it?

Speaking of 5dpo, I tried so hard today to just forget about the “two week wait” (2ww), but then came lunch time and the suggestion of Japanese food just reminded me, wait a minute I can’t eat raw fish (my favorite)!  And then I grabbed some chocolates from the box where our admin keeps snacks and had to think twice about whether or not I should eat it (I did).  How am I supposed to forget when I’m also supposed to be vigilant about what I’m eating/drinking?

Hoping that the next six days fly by…

Category: Baby talk, The wolf /

(im)patient

the wingless one / May 30, 2012 / 2 comments

Another post, another month plus in the history books.

Time is flying by and once again I can’t quite figure out how to capture what has gone by in the interim.

First, I think it’s important to note that during my previous blogging break, I was distracted and my life was focused away from desperately wishing to be pregnant.  Not going to go into what those things were right now, but well, for one, let’s just say our house had full blown Linsanity pretty much until he got injured.  And we are pretty hardcore NBA fans to begin with.  So…yeah…

There were also bridal showers, weddings and a various assortment of other time/thought-consuming events.

For the most part, things have slowed down (and basketball playoffs are in conference finals now so only one game per day).  Of course the lack of distractions has coincided with being cleared by the rheumy to go forth and attempt to procreate.

So I’m four days into our first two week wait and I’m praying that somehow we are one of those disgusting couples that hits the lotto on the first try because I honestly don’t know how I’m going to survive this month after month otherwise.

I might have mentioned this once or twice (or ten thousand times) before but I’m terrible at waiting.  I’m an incredibly impatient person.  Waiting three years to TTC clearly almost drove me off the deep end earlier this year.

The nature of my job doesn’t help with this at all, in fact it has definitely made things worse in this department.  Working in an extremely fast-paced market, sometimes waiting for a minute can mean losing hundreds of thousands of dollars in the blink of an eye.  Thus people in my industry do not like to wait.  Ever.  Almost everything is a fire-drill.

I don’t want to approach baby-making with the same attitude I approach work but I’ve pretty much already totally failed in that department.  (By the way, lil sis if you are reading this you probably want to stop now because there is mucho TMI ahead).

We’re one cycle in and the hubs is already kind of over TTC s.ex because we get up so early in the morning that during the week we normally only get busy here and there when the mood strikes. But of course, this month I was like, You MUST do me every night this week.  And he’s like, But I’m sleeeepy.  And I’m like, NO, we have to get pregnant NOW.  Thanks to client dinners though we still missed two out of the three days before ovulation 🙁

Also, he has an appointment with a urologist in a few weeks (first available) to get checked out and have a SA done.  When I brought it up to my rheumy he was very supportive of the idea since my doctors are now of the mind that if I’m going to charge forward with this whole “getting pregnant” ridiculousness that we might as well get it over ASAP so they can get me back on their preferred meds.

I’m not feeling super hopeful about this cycle because, who really gets pregnant on the first try?  Plus we missed those two days and I didn’t have much fertile cm this month.  I did get a very strong positive on my OPK though so who knows, maybe…

My question now is, how do I get through the next seven days without losing my mind?  And should I test at 11dpo (days past ovulation) like I’m planning?  Will that cause more or less stress?  I’m not really sure.

All I really know is I’m driving myself crazy analyzing all these symptoms that I don’t even realistically think can be there yet.  I mean, at this point if there was fertilization the embryo is still meandering it’s way down the tube right?  The problem is it is totally normal for me to feel randomly crampy or nauseated or super tired or get headaches or congestion.  But now, everytime I feel one of those things I start to wonder, does it mean something?  Even though it is really not very different at all from my “normal.”

Anyway, I really am going to make an effort to write more and I would like to write more about my lupus now that I am less paranoid about people in real life finding this place.  After spending so much time google-ing and looking for blogs with insight into the aspects of lupus I’ve struggled with I realized I am doing a huge disservice to others with lupus by not documenting my own experiences.  We have such an understudied disease that at this point the best we can do is to pool together our collective experiences.  I’ve noticed that there are more people with lupus popping up in the blogosphere and you know, the more awareness about this disease the better.

I’m just going to hit publish now so I don’t end up flushing this post down the drain with all the other drafts.

He said, I won’t give you more
More than you can take
And I might let you bend
But I won’t let you break
And no
I’ll never, ever let you go
Don’t you forget what He said

Category: Baby talk /

breaking the seal

the wingless one / April 24, 2012 / 2 comments

Given the utter lack of posts for the past 2+ months I suppose it goes without saying that I’ve been a terrible blogger.

Or maybe I was just on a break?  Yes, that sounds better doesn’t it?

Since it’s actually been strangely stressful trying to figure out what to post after so much silence, I’m just going to dive straight into the deep end.  I’ll figure out how to do this again.

I’m not having a good day today.  I threw up last night before bed and again after I woke up this morning, hence the staying home from work and posting in the middle of the day.  Before anyone gets any crazy ideas, I’m definitely not pregnant.  I know this because like the pee-stick addict that I am, I did test right before I got my last period a couple weeks ago (it was negative, obviously) and my OPK today was positive after having been negative the past few days.

So yeah, we are not TTC yet but I already have a problem with peeing-on-things, so next month when we are (hopefully) actually allowed to TTC should be really interesting.  Obsessive might actually be the word I’m looking for here.

Anyway, outside of feeling like garbage today, for the most part I’ve been doing pretty well physically.  I am now completely off the Cellcept and solely on Imuran as of the end of February.  Initially my labs were showing an increase in my AST/ALT numbers (liver enzymes) which could have been bad, but then they started to decrease and now seem to be holding steady at just a touch above normal (which both doctors agree is fine as long as there is no trend upward, right now they are at 44 and 97 respectively).

I think my body is actually tolerating the Imuran better than it did the Cellcept because a lot of gastrointestinal issues I had before have suddenly disappeared.  It never really occurred to me that they were being caused by the Cellcept because I’d had them for so long but, I did take Cellcept for nearly eight straight years, so my guess is that it started happening slowly over the years and I didn’t make the connection.  When they put me on the really high dose after my last flare, I did have terrible stomach issues so it makes a lot of sense now that I have the Imuran to compare to.

I’ve also been closely monitored (as the vein in my right arm can attest to) and am showing no signs of the rare blood disorder that Imuran can cause.  I am mildly anemic, but that’s kind of always the case and it’s not getting worse (again it’s the trend that my doctors seem to care about).  Actually, I guess my anemia is so “meh” compared to when I’ve flared in the past that neither of my doctors have even mentioned it to me (another reason I always request to be cc-ed on my lab results).

I am trying really, really hard to be all care-free and lackadaisical and actually do what I always say I want to do, which is leave this in God’s hands.

I am, as usual, mostly failing.

The impatient, control-freak in me has been obsessively studying my period tracker notes and google-ing things like “fertility foods” and “how to conceive quickly.”

I know none of this is actually helpful.  None of the google searches have come up with anything I don’t already know from years of reading infertility blogs.  I suppose if it was as simple as doing a google search, there would be no IF blogs at all.

And while it is somewhat comforting knowing that I have pretty clear signs of ovulation each month, I know (also from reading IF blogs) that this doesn’t really guarantee anything.

(But yes, it is a small source of pride for me in looking back on all those notes, that wow, my body is actually probably doing one thing right!  Yay!  Where’s my cookie?)

The truth is, I’m pretty disappointed in my inability to just let go.  I feel like the lesson God has been trying to teach me over the past three years – that things happen in HIS time and not mine – hasn’t sunk in.  And I’m kind of afraid of what that means.

As I mentioned above, we’re one month away from being cleared to TTC.

Four short (endless) weeks away.

I vacillate between hope and joy, and fear and anxiety.  Every time I start to feel those first two feelings, I can’t help but think about the fact that two years ago, I was also so close and then everything fell to pieces.  It’s almost like I have PTSD about being back in this same (emotional) place and I can’t help but feel like it’s all going to slip away again.

And it occurred to me the other day that in my mind, I’ve consistently viewed being allowed to TTC as the finish line, when in reality that’s like the one mile marker of a marathon.  I’m so far from the finish line it’s not even funny.

If this read like a spectacular ramble, that’s because it was.  It felt really good to get some of this off my chest, I’ve been wanting to write but the task just seemed so gargantuan for some reason.  I do have a lot of things I want to write about so hopefully now that I’ve broken the seal, it’ll be easier to come back. 

Category: Baby talk, Well, that hurt /

cause all the dreams you never thought you’d lose, get tossed along the way

the wingless one / February 2, 2012 / 4 comments

When I started writing on the internet twelve years ago (twelve years ago this month actually), I didn’t know.

I didn’t know what the future would be like. I didn’t know the things I would experience.  I honestly couldn’t imagine what anything beyond the next few weeks of my life would look like.

And so, for years, I shared my place on the internet with far too many people.  I shared without discretion.  Hell, I had the damn link posted on my AIM profile for God knows how long.

Now I wonder what this blog would have looked like if I hadn’t done that.  And you know what? I’ll never know.

I don’t know how many people from my “real” life have kept the link somewhere.  How many people have forgotten about it but still have it saved in a favorites list they scan through at random.  How many people still check in from time to time when they are bored and see me in their list of FB friends.  I don’t have a clue.

And the truth is, I hate that.  I’ve thought so many times about shutting this place down.  Every year I struggle with the idea of not renewing this domain.  Running away from my little home here on the internet, the one I’ve lived at for over a decade.

But I don’t have the balls to do it.  I don’t know if I ever will.  You see, after writing here for so long this has become as much a part of my identity as anything else in my life that means anything.

Maybe that’s weird, but, well, so am I.  Clearly.

So the way I see it, I have two choices.  I can start being honest here again and have this continue to mean something.  Or I can post pictures of my cat and talk about the weather and have this place fade to the point where it means nothing to me anymore and the only option left will be to start over.

For now, I’m going to give option one a try.

You know this quote?

Work like you don’t need money. Love like you’ve never been hurt. And dance like no one’s watching.

Here is my best attempt at blogging like no one’s reading.

I’m starting here and now.  And with any luck this won’t end up like so many “real” posts I’ve started over the past who knows how long – in the drafts folder, or more likely, in the trash folder.

So the truth is, I’m a fucking mess.  A hot, disgusting, messed up mess.

I feel more broken than I have in a long time.

I spent the last five days in my room, mostly in bed.  I have withdrawn from everything.  From my friends, from thinking about the future, from the ability to hope for anything good to happen.

I broke down completely on Sunday and spent most of the day crying.  Over what exactly?  I don’t know.

I think about things and then I hate myself for them.  I’m going to be in two of my best friends’ weddings this year and all I can really think is how it’s going to feel when they get pregnant before I do.  And then I hate myself even more for thinking that.

Because I wish I knew how to just be happy for them, but I can’t think about them moving forward in their lives without feeling like I’m going backwards.

I hate this vicious cycle of sadness, bitterness, guilt, self-hatred, more sadness, etc.

I hate that I can’t even really bring myself to open Facebook anymore because I don’t want to see it.  I don’t want to see other people living their lives because I feel like I don’t know how to live mine anymore.

I hate that I’m being fake every day when I congratulate people over their pregnancies, over new babies, over second or third babies.  When I patiently listen to people complain about how hard it is to be a parent.

It makes me want to die when I hear things like that.

I hate how scared I am of the future now.  I feel like I’ve stopped knowing how to imagine good things happening.

Yes, I’ve always had my struggles with depression, but I think no matter how bad it got before, there was always a little part of me that had hope that something better was coming.

I feel like that part of me is gone now.

All I can see is how things can go wrong.  And all I can feel is scared.

Terrified, even.

Broken, lost, hopeless, helpless.

I was talking to a good friend the other day, really the only person “in real life” that I’ve been able to talk about this honestly with at all, about how as wonderful as Paul has been, sometimes it’s hard because I don’t feel like we’re totally on the same page.

He is so fucking hopeful.  And optimistic.  That somehow this is going to all work out.  That I will be able to get pregnant, that the baby will make it to viability, that we will have a baby in our home at the end of this long road we’ve been walking.

I don’t know.  Maybe it is better that one of us feels that way.  Maybe someone needs to?

I know this is not the right way for me to be approaching all of this.  Especially right now in the middle of transitioning meds and preparing my body to be a hospitable place to house a fragile life that will be 100% dependent on it for nine months.

But I think that’s also why I feel this way.  Because I’m so close and I feel so far away.  I have no confidence in this broken down, beat up body.

And I feel like I’ve already failed by not being able to get completely off the meds for this.  I feel guilty that if I do get pregnant, my baby is going to be at risk just for the fact that it’s in this POS body.  That I’ll be exposing it to all these unknowns because I have to keep taking meds for the duration of any pregnancy.  And then I feel selfish because I still want so badly to be pregnant.

In my really low moments, I think that this must be why God doesn’t want me to have a baby.  Because I’m a horrible person and I don’t deserve one. 

And I know this is ridiculous, because if anyone, my friend I mentioned above, my cousin who has now had two miscarriages, anyone going through all this BS ever said they felt that way about themselves, I would tell them how ridiculous they were being, that God doesn’t pick and choose who to give babies to by who “deserves” them (I used to watch Teen Mom, after all).  But this is the thought I torture myself with anyway.  Because it feels true.

I’m trying to keep moving forward.  Get up out of bed.  Put one foot in front of the other.  Swallow the tears that come randomly throughout the day.

Trying to figure out how to get the hope back.

But I don’t know.

Category: Baby talk, Navel gazing, Well, that hurt /

a sports analogy

the wingless one / January 23, 2012 / No comments

Devastating.

That is the only way to describe yesterday.  I nearly lost my voice from all the screaming and went to bed sad and disappointed.

Yes, I’m talking about the Niners.  I think other than my fellow fans in red and gold, only those in Baltimore can feel my pain today.

Sigh.

This is why following sports can be so hard.  Your emotions rise and fall on the performance of others, people you have no control over (I’m looking at you Kyle Williams!) despite wearing your lucky shirt or following a pre-game routine or avoiding certain behaviors that could be seen as “jinxing” them.

It’s weird how similar it feels sometimes to my journey towards pregnancy.  How often I’ve felt like an observer on the sidelines, breath held, lucky hat on my head, fingers crossed, just hoping, wishing, praying for the ball to cross that line.

I know I have much more control over my health than I do a football game, but sometimes the lupus does make me feel just as powerless.  In my lowest moments I can’t help but feel like despite my best efforts, I can’t win.  Right now, I’m fighting a cold that I’m terrified will send me into a flare – I’m sure my doctors would attribute a flare right now to me switching meds and not simply the stress getting sick puts on my body, particularly when my work schedule is such that I can’t take time off to properly rest.

(And in case you’re wondering, what happens if I get sick during pregnancy?  I plan to tell my boss VERY early on despite common practice because I do plan on doing whatever I need to, including missing as much work as necessary, to maintain a healthy pregnancy.  But it’s hard to tell your company this BEFORE you even get pregnant).

I guess all I can do is keep doing what I can to stay healthy and at the end of the day, keep hoping for victory.

Category: Baby talk, Game time, Navel gazing, Well, that hurt /

hodge podge

the wingless one / January 20, 2012 / 2 comments

I had a really angry, bitter moment today.  Okay, clearly I have a lot of those every day, but this was one of those where I found myself suddenly typing in all caps and wanting to rage at anyone who would listen.  I was at work so luckily I managed to keep my audience down to the hubs and our other buddy who is in a Bloomberg chat with us.

Let’s reach into the archives for a moment and revisit this post from October 2010 when I found out that Paul’s douchey childhood best friend had a child out of wedlock.  I don’t know if I ever mentioned this here, but I was right about her being young (I think she had just turned twenty when the baby was born).  I had met some of his girlfriends when he was living here in the states and started calling all of them Bambi because he liked girls who were young and naive and he switched them out often enough (and they were similar enough) that I didn’t even bother trying to remember their names.

Anyway, he came up today in conversation because he had sent Paul some pictures of a copper mine they just found on his land in the Philippines and bragging about how he now (literally) has a private army to protect him (because kidnappings of rich folks are common in the PI).  I remarked casually that he better also have someone guarding his gf and their kid and Paul casually mentioned back, “Oh he has a new gf now.”  Um, of course he does.  And she’s probably twelve and he will probably knock her up too because he is a scumbag douchehole and I officially hate his guts.  He lives such a fucking charmed life it makes me sick.  I don’t know why I have such a visceral reaction to him in particular, but I do.  It probably has something to do with the fact that Paul always has an excuse for him and it doesn’t even make sense to me how they are still friends because they are so different and have such completely opposite moral codes (they have been best friends since they were six years old and maintain their friendship now even though they live on different sides of the world).

It’s just NOT FAIR.  And I know that all this “infertility stuff” is one giant lesson in how fucking unfair life is, but still – IT’S SO FUCKING UNFAIR that this cradle-robbing prick has managed to spread his seed.  Ugh.

***

As I mentioned briefly in my last post rant, I switched meds last weekend.  I did finally hear back from the doctor last week and was told that based on the test they ran I didn’t seem to be at risk for my WBC crapping out.  So, yay.  He did throw in the caveat once again, “if this is still what you want to do….” before he went on to ask me where they should send the prescription.  I also have to go get my blood drawn again next week and probably every two weeks or so for the next eight weeks.  I want to be excited about this, but I also don’t want to get my hopes up.  I am supposed to be in a wedding in August and I actually let myself think the thought, “What if I get a bridesmaid dress and then can’t fit into it because I’m big and pregnant?”  Then I quickly smashed the thought of my head because there are still so many things that could go wrong between now and me being pregnant and carrying to full term.  Is it bad for me to think this way?  Am I dooming myself to failure?  Or just acting out of self-preservation?  I wish I knew the answer.

***

Now that I’m officially on some sort of path towards fixing up the ol’ body in order to gestate another person, I really need to figure out how to kick my Am.bien habit.  It’s on the backburner right now while I take care of some other stuff and adjust to the new meds.  Lack of sleep always causes me to flare so I figure it’s probably not ideal to go cold turkey.  I need to figure out some sort of regimen to taper down over the next few months while I’m still on the Cell.cept anyway.

I think Paul will be glad when I quit because I’ve had some weird nights lately in my hazy Amb.ien induced fog.  On Tuesday, for some reason I decided it would be a good idea to go up the stairs, in the dark, with a bowl of pears in one hand and a plate of rice in the other.  Of course, I tripped and fell on the way up and broke the plate and Paul found me standing, confused in the stairwell.  He sent me up to the room and cleaned up the mess.

The next night I think I had some sort of meltdown where I spewed all my secret fears about, “What if I flare after the baby is born and I die?” and told him that I wanted him to find a nice woman to get remarried to and raise our imaginary child with.  I also vaguely remember repeating over and over again that he is too good for me and asking him why he was even with me.  The only reason this even came back to me at all is because I woke up with incredibly red, puffy eyes.  The sad thing is, it was all true.  It’s all stuff I’ve thought so many times in my head, especially recently as we move towards pregnancy being a real possibility.  I have a lot of fears and worries.  I also, clearly, have low self-esteem.

***

Completely switching gears now, I’m an SF gal, so you know I had to mention this at some point – GO NINERS!  I was a little too young for the Joe Montana glory days, but I did get really into football during the tail-end of the Steve Young years.  I do get quite passionate about teams that I follow so I kind of had to distance myself from football the past nine years because the 9ers were just so awful and disappointing.  I love being able to watch games again without being in a foul mood afterwards!  One win away from another Superbowl and I actually feel like we have a shot!  The game against the Saints last weekend was amazing, I couldn’t stop screaming at the TV during the last four minutes (YES! NO! YES! NOOO! YESSSSSSSSSSS!) and I’m hoping this Sunday will be equally as exciting with another win for the home team!  A good game has always been the one thing that can take my mind off anything else I’m struggling with so this is just what I need.

***

Also, football related, I was really pulling for Tim Tebow and the Broncos last week and was sad to see them lose, though it was expected.  If I don’t have a horse in the race, I typically cheer for the underdog regardless (so I NEVER cheer for the Pats – yuck) but after watching the Steelers game, I couldn’t help but want the Broncos Cinderella run to continue (although they would have eventually lost to the Niners in the Superbowl anyway ^^).

I honestly only watched the Niners this season so I hadn’t actually even seen the Broncos play up until the game against the Steelers and had only heard about “Tebowing” – and mostly all negative things about it.  Before seeing it with my own eyes, I thought, “Eh, it does sound kind of like he’s being a little too flamboyant about it and could be doing more harm than good,” but after I actually saw what he does, it really didn’t seem that bad to me.  It kind of just seems like he loves God and praises God in everything he does and isn’t ashamed of what he believes.  Which I respect.  Before the Broncos-Patriots game I watched some special they had on him with a lot of candid video of him on the field during games and that only cemented my belief that he is a genuinely good guy who is just being a genuine Christian and not apologizing for it (lots of footage of him encouraging/consoling his teammates, singing gospels to himself and saying little prayers).

I don’t really get why people hate on him, although it did remind me of something that Michael Chang (the tennis player) spoke about when he said that the media was not at all comfortable when he talked about his faith as he was having success in his tennis career.  He said he was shocked by the fact that he was openly mocked by the press for it, so I guess it is probably a similar situation here.

Like all that hubbub over the Tebow Superbowl commercial a couple years ago that turned out to be a positive commercial celebrating life without even mentioning abortion.  I didn’t know much about Tebow at the time but still remember being confused about what the big deal was when I actually saw the commercial vs all the stuff I had heard about it.  I remember all the press coming out about it before the commercial had even aired and people saying it was “offensive” or “holier than thou.”  It turned out to be his mom saying he was her miracle baby and how she had almost lost him many times (I think this article does a pretty good job of summing up the “controversy” – you can see the video here).  If someone can give me an actual explanation as to why that ad was so “offensive” I’d love to hear it.  It’s weird to me how people can be so upset about Christians talking about their beliefs – are Christians now the only Americans that no longer have their first amendment rights?

***

I do have Project 366 pictures to post as soon as I gather up enough energy to upload them.  To be honest, some of them are half-assed iPhone pictures, but I’m still proud of myself for taking at least one picture every day!

Category: Baby talk, Game time, Navel gazing /

One step forward (maybe)

the wingless one / December 27, 2011 / 2 comments

I wanted to write something poignant, witty, perhaps even a bit deep.

Instead, I’ll just settle for…something.

I finally heard back from Dr. K last Tuesday (a mere three weeks after we were scheduled to speak, but who’s counting). The conversation started off by making it clear to me that my doctors are not really on board and only going along with this if I remain “adamant” about it.

In fact he would not even tell me The Plan he and Dr. R (what I’ll call my rheumatologist from now on) had concocted until I verbally confirmed that I was indeed absolutely sure this is what I want.

So I said, “Yes?”

And I said it just like that with the question mark at the end and everything because I’m not sure-sure. I’m really not. Hearing ominous words of warning from a small army of physicians has not made me any more sure – which I guess is their point – but I said yes anyway because all I really want, at this point, is to be able to make the choice for myself. To take back whatever small kernel of normalcy that can still be salvaged from all of this. To make a decision between me and my husband about what is best for our future without three men my father’s age, relative strangers, hovering about.

Of course, that ship has probably long sailed (it is, after all, for their opinions that I see them) but I just want to at least be able to pretend that having a baby involves actual love and feelings and such, and not just endless instances of me being poked with needles and perfecting the art of the clean-catch urine specimen. I want to be able to imagine for a moment what it’s like to discuss this with just the man I’m trying to build a family with and figure out for the two of us if this makes sense for us. And yes, it will largely be an illusion of control, but I’ll take what I can get.

So I said yes because I had to, to take that next step.

True to form, the next step is not so easy to take. The plan itself sounds simple enough, some labwork followed by a transition period of six to eight weeks where I will have labs drawn every two weeks. After that, there will be some discussion of how long I’ll be exclusively on the new medication before, I suppose, everyone will huddle up again and decide whether or not we get to pass Go. Sure, it doesn’t sound so bad, but I am not some noob at this, I know how these things go (for me anyway) and I see all the hidden minefields embedded in this plan.

For starters, getting the initial bloodwork done felt abnormally hard due to the holiday weekend. This was exactly why I had really been hoping to speak to the doctor in early December, but such is life right? I had taken Thursday off (ahead of our annual trip to the in-laws) so I figured that would be a perfect opportunity to pick up the lab slip from the doctor’s office and get drawn at the hospital lab. This is my fault, but I wasn’t overly concerned about getting there early since Christmas was still three days away and it didn’t occur to me that there would be any issue with holiday hours yet.

I knew I was doomed when the receptionist told me the phlebotomist was just on the phone confirming some of the requirements for one of the tests and would be with me shortly. Then the phlebotomist came out and told me that the lab they outsource some of my tests to was operating on holiday hours already and so the cut-off for those tests was at noon. I could either get drawn now and come back Tuesday or just get everything drawn at once. I don’t like subjecting myself to more needle pokes than absolutely necessary so I opted for the second choice. Particularly since the tests that really mattered were the ones that couldn’t be done.

But I had already sort of gotten my hopes up that I might still be able to have a new prescription in my hot little hand before NYE so I went back to the doctor’s office and asked if I could have a slip for a third-party lab, thinking that maybe they would somehow be able to do this test. Wishful thinking, I know. I did a quick search on my phone and found they had a collection center on my way home so I headed over. Another hour later, after parking, walking to the filthiest looking lab collection office I have ever seen, the receptionist/phlebotomist (I have never seen this combo before) having no idea what the tests were that the doctor had ordered, calling everyone he could think of, including Dr. K (who sounded none too pleased) trying to figure out what test he was supposed to be collecting for, I eventually walked back out of the office after finally learning their cutoff was also noon due to Christmas holiday hours.

I was honestly pretty relieved since I had wanted to leave after watching the phlebotoreceptionist cough into his hands repeatedly, but I didn’t have the guts.

Anyway, I went back yesterday to the hospital lab, still with the faint hope results could come back by Friday in time for my imaginary NYE deadline. The phlebotomist quickly crushed that dream when she informed me it wouldn’t be back for 7-10 days. She also used a larger-than-necessary needle which irritated my vein but shit happens I guess.

So, three lab visits, five days and six vials of blood later, Step 0.5? Check.

Why do I not consider it Step 1? Because Step 1 requires my bloodwork to come back within the “normal” range for something (specifically some enzyme that is a good predictor of whether or not my body will have a catastrophic meltdown when it comes in contact with an ingredient in the new medication) and I don’t really take that for granted anymore. I have no reason to believe that I won’t fall inside the normal range, but the problem is I also don’t have any reason to believe I will.

I’m trying really, really hard not to get my hopes up about this until I get these results back. Which has been really good for me emotionally but also feels sad in its own way. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how no matter what I will never know what it’s like to experience a “normal” pregnancy. One that isn’t wrought with fear and anxiety and the burden of knowing every little thing that can go wrong. When I was younger the thing that scared me most about having a baby was the actual birth itself. Today that is the least of my worries. Whether I get sliced open or have to push a melon out of my hoo-ha, I really don’t care. As long as they pull a healthy, fully baked baby out of me I will be fine with however that happens.

Category: Baby talk /

can’t hardly wait

the wingless one / December 2, 2011 / No comments

Bah. Still waiting for the doctor to call back. His nurse called to say I might not hear back until Monday.

Category: Baby talk /

“The universe is laughing behind your back.”

the wingless one / November 30, 2011 / No comments

If I had balls, the universe would have totally kicked me in them today.

1)  First thing in the morning, one of the senior people I work with told me he has to leave early tomorrow because he “has to do something with his wife.”  I didn’t really think much of it until later when I heard him on the phone with HR asking about his FSA account and whether or not it would cover any of his dependents like his “wife or…if we have kids…”  As horrible as this sounds, my stomach just completel sank.  Maybe I’m reading too much into these two conversations, but I am bracing myself for a pregnancy announcement two months from now.  I hate the feeling of dread that washed over me when I realized (made up?) what was going on.  And I’m dreading the inevitable uptick in pregnancy-birth-baby talk with one more new/expectant dad in the row.  It just makes it that much harder for me to take a step back from the selfish little brat inside of me screaming “I want a baby now, now, NOW!” and seriously think about whether getting pregnant is the right thing for us given the risks.

2)  Overheard a conversation the other senior guy I work with was having with a client.  A client who’s wife is apparently at the stage of pregnancy now where you can start announcing it to people.  Super happy for him (he is one of my favorite clients and seems like a great dad) but yet another pregnancy that’s not mine which I will get to follow and hear all about the miracle of.  I know that sounded really bitter, but the sad thing is, I’m honestly not.  I’m just, well, sad.  (for me).

3) I am a little bit bitter, though, about the random pregnant lady standing in front of the door to my building when I got home today.  Just loitering there, chatting on her cell phone, and in the way just enough that I had to wait for her to move so I could open the door.  Really universe?  Really?  That was overkill don’t you think?

Oh and also today, scheduled a dinner in a couple weeks with the two “expectant” clients and my senior guy that already has kids (including baby twins) so anyone want to take a stab at what the hot topic is going to be?  Sigh.

 

Category: Baby talk /
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