Over 5 weeks
I have been blogging on my French blog a lot, but didn't take the time to translate it. So, even if I am past 5 weeks now, here's the update...
My body
My boobs hurt like hell, even more so at night. They are bigger and heavier and very hard on the side. I am almost always hungry, but as soon as I eat, I feel full. I go to the bathroom more often. I had a little pain somewhere around my right ovary, but it's all gone now. I have heartburn and am constipated (must be the pre-natals vitamins). I am very tired. My belly is the same. Maybe a little bloated at night. Overall, I feel good.
My heart
I cry a lot, for nothing. Mostly tears of joy or emotion or fatigue. My heart is beating very strong, so full of the love I have been pilling up for this little kiwi seed, still so small. I am happy, no doubt about it. And I know this happiness could grow if this baby does too.
My head
I feel good, I am starting to grasp a little what is happening to me, or should I say, in me. I still feel scared and anxious, but I am controlling these fears and can manage to come to reason. I made such a habit of over-analysing every little detail of my whole life while TTC, calculating, writing every symptom, twinge and pain, that finding myself surrounded by the unknown is pretty unsettling right now. It feels like I just jumped off a cliff and don't know what's awaiting me at the bottom. I am doing my best to let nature do her job and not interfere. But it's hard to trust her. The symbolic stage of 5 weeks, which is when I lost the first baby, is now past and it feels better, even if it still garantees nothing.
My kiwi seed
I speak to it all the time. I rub my belly, telling it to stay with me. I promise it a confortable, warm and loving house in my belly. I beg of it to stay with me till the end, to stick around so it can meet its wonderful daddy. And I promise it lots of ice cream if it stays inside me until January.
My honey
He is my ancre, he keeps my feet on the ground when I let my imagination run wild or when I let my fears get the best of me. He is happy, I know he is. I also know he is affraid too. He touches my belly with the tip of his fingers, ever so lightly, to let kiwi seed know he is here too, and he is waitig too.
Our world
We did not tell anyone yet. We have decided to wait until at least the first appointment. When we get there, if we get there, we'll decide what we're going to do. We are cautiously happy for the moment and living this fragile happiness between the 2 1/2 of us (oh and my internet friends!).
My kiwi seed
It's time for a little update... I have done several other tests, being the stubborn unbeliever that I am, and they all came out positive. So alright, alright, I get it! Can't blame me for wanting to make sure! I have not been feeling anything bad in the last few days. I am very tired and my boobs hurt like hell, heartburn, constipation and pulling feelings, nothing bothers me at this point. Bring it on! I waited so long for this little seed inside of me, I am willing to take anything, as long as it means a healthy baby at the end.
I am still anxious and scared. I try to see the positive side of things and I try my best to live in the moment. But I can't forget how devastated I was last December when I miscarried. I can live another miscarriage, physically. But emotionnally, I'm not so sure. It took a long time for me to get back on my feet after that loss. I lost many things that day. And I don't want to live that ever ever again. I will try and carpe diem, but give me some time.
It feels weird, having to change how I've been thinking for years. I no longer have to think about any ttc stuff, like is this treatment going to work? What if it doesn't, what are we going to try next? How long are we willing to go on like this? Oh shoot, I took my temp too late this morning. Ooooh! oooh! eggwhite! Honeeeeeey!!!!! It feels weird having to change all my old habits. I still have to remind myself once in a while that I am pregnant now, that I am now a mom-to-be, not a mom-wanna-be. It's hard, really. It feels strange, it's not me. It's kinda like changing the color of your eyes suddenly. You never really noticed your brown eyes before. But now that they're blue, you jump a little when you see yourself in the mirror and think "oh... right!" When I find myself in some old infertile habits, I have to stop and tell myself that it's going to have to change sometime soon.
I will never consider myself being a ex-infertile. I will always be an infertile, it's what I am, what we are as a couple. It's part of us now. Like the borg, it assimilated us (wow! how geek am I!). The conclusion of the journey does not erase the journey itself. The pain may become less and less sharp in time, but the scar will always remain. I know a lot of infertile women don't like reading about pregnancy and stuff. I totally understand, I've been there for a long time. I still have difficulties hearing (reading) about oops babies and first-month-ttc-babies. I still feel frustrated when crack-heads give birth to twins while wonderful women struggle just to have one. My heart will always go out to these women, whatever the path they take to reach their goal. But as becoming a mom has been my goal and the reason why we went through all that shit, I can't just ignore it. I want to talk about it, from my perspective. I'm sorry if I lose some readers by doing so, but I want to write about my kiwi seed and how I feel about it. I want to share my fears and my doubts, as I have always done. But I also want to share my hopes and my joys, which will be new to me.
We may have won one battle, but until I hold my baby in my arms, I won't consider this war over.
A battle inside of me
I did another test this morning. I think I need lots of confirmation and reassurance this time around. It was positive, beautiful, full of hope.
I am so happy, so extatic and bursting with joy. Lalala! But still, I feel very afraid, very "I'm gonna wake up and know it's just a dream", very disappointed at the same time that we are not jumping up and down and dancing to the sound of birds singing. I know it's normal for us to be afraid. I am happy, I trully am. But I just can't seem to let myself completely believe in this. Not yet. I don't take it for granted anymore. I know the odds, I know the possibilities, I know I should stay positive and enjoy every second I have with this little kiwi seed. But there's this demon inside of me telling me "wha-ah-ah! (evil laugh) You know you're not worthy and I will take this one from you as I did the one before!" How can I make it shut the hell up? How can I be happy about this pregnancy and enjoy it without expecting the worse? Am I really protecting myself when I'm thinking I could lose it? Will I be less devastated if it happens if I think about it before? I don't think so. The pain will be the same. So come on Kiwi, be happy! Keep thinking positive, it got you so far!
Do you see what I see?
My hairdresser's sister...
A friend of mine, let's call her N, is vaguely aware of what we are going through. She doesn't know the details (like the miscarriage, IUI, the state of my ovaries), but she knows I am infertile. She usually is quite sensitive, but she sometimes can be a jerk. She called me last week to tell me about a friend of hers, let's call her M. M went to the dr because she has no period at all. The dr told her "well mam, you're sterile." Ok, now, wth? What kind of a dr is that? What, he knew she was sterile just by looking at her? Lucky her, she did not have to go through bloodwork, HSG, lap, and what more to know that! I would have told M to get a second opinion, but hey, that's me. Anyway, M decided to go to the accupunctor. And oh miracle! She is now regular. N told me, after that deliteful story: "you should go see an accupunctor." Yeah. Ok. Whatever.
Everybody knows, up close or not, someone who has had some ordeal with infertility. Everybody can tell you about the cousin who was declared sterile and who got pregnant naturally two years later or the friend of a friend who got pregnant while trying to adopt. Everybody has a story to try and bring some infertile's spirit up. But infertiles like me hate these stories! I am so sick of listening to stories about the mailman's sister-in-law who had 4 miscarriages and now has 3 healthy children, or the hairdresser's sister who waited 3 years before (oh dear god!) giving up and getting pregnant. I KNOW the intentions are good. I am perfectly aware that people telling me these stories aren't thinking to themselves "eheheh! I'm gonna tell this bitter infertile about my former-infertile-friend-now-ubber-fertile and watch her get mad!" I know most of the time these stories come to mind because people want to be nice, but don't know what to say to encourage me. I know they want to help, but it does not help at all.
I have tried to explain why it bugs me to hear those stories many times. I have tried to find something that would make it clear that I don't want to know about any of those people I don't even know anyway. It's not easy to understand from the outside that these stories do not give me anything. No encouragment, no hope, no help. Ok, I am happy for the person in question. Lucky her. Good thing it worked for her. But in what does it change my own situation? Meds don't work the same way on everybody. Infertility comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes, most of them still ill-known. As one of my drs once told me, there are as much fertility-treatment recipes as there are infertile couples. Meaning, it if worked for one, there's no garantee it's gonna work for another.
I finaly found a way to explain this to outsider. A little vague comparison, but I think it's clear enough. Let's say I play the lotery every week, hoping to become a millionnaire. I never win. Then, someone comes to me and tells me "you know, my secretary's uncle just won the jackpot with these numbers. You should take these numbers, you would win, since it worked for him." This is silly, right? That's not the way things work, right?
This said, I trully appreciate every word of encouragement I get, no matter where they come from. I know how to see the good intentions behind a story. And I thank every one of you, from the bottom of my heart.
Still here
One week without posting is a long time. Maybe I had nothing interesting to say. Or maybe I didn't really need to talk. When I decided to see the positive side of things, I felt a huge weight lift from my shoulders. I am more optimistic now. Well ok, I am still realistic. I can't fight my nature. But the future does not seem so dark anymore.
Go Team Infertile!
So, Uchenna and Joyce won the Amazing Race! P and I were crying like idiots when Uchenna yelled "We're going for a baby! In vitro, here we come!" I am so happy for them, they deserve the million dollars and I hope it helps them fulfill their dream of becoming parents.
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Some time ago, I used to be a positive person. I always tried to find the silverlining in every situation. Of course I was disappointed and I cried everytime I got my period or a treatment failed. But I would pick myself up quickly and get on with trying. I had a good attitude and I was enjoying life. Up until the miscarriage. My positivity and optimism got hit hard. I had a really hard time picking up the pieces, putting them back together and getting back on my feet. I know something inside me is forever broken. I know I will never be able to be as positive and hopeful as I was in the beginning. Things have changed. I have changed.
But is it a good enough reason to let myself see everything darker than it really is? I have come to realise lately that I have become rather negative in many aspects of my life. I want that to change. I don't want to get my hopes up and imagine things and fall from high, that's why I am always expecting the worse. It's self-defense. But, come to think of it, even if I tell myself a thousand times it's not gonna work, nothing will shut the little voice up inside my head that's telling me "but you know it could also work! It only takes one time!" After all, if I did not have a tinsy tiny bit of hope left, why would I still be doing this? Why would we keep on trying if we did not believe in it at all anymore? So, instead of trying to shush it, I am going to try and listen to this little hope-filled voice. I am not gonna imagine any symptom or make myself believe I am pregnant when I am not. But I can still stay positive and keep hoping. It doesn't have to be all black or all white. I can find some balance between reality and false hopes.
I will not be less disappointed if I hope, I know that now. Being negative has never made the deception hurt less or the injustice taste less bitter, at least for me. If I hope or not, the result is the same and the pain feels the same. So why deprive myself of what positivity I have left? I have had a battle between my down-to-earth side and my positive and hopeful side for a long time now. So, without ever forgetting reality, I have decided to listen to my positive side, for the moment. I still want to believe. I still want to believe we will one day become parents.
So the good side of this cycle, no matter how it ends? I have ovulated on CD20 for the second cycle in a row, taking Metformin and Femara only. For the first time in almost 3 years, I have ovulated twice, under the same circumstances. I have some kind of regularity for the first time in my life. For me, it's a big deal. What does it mean? Maybe I don't need injects as much as we thought. If the ovarian drilling does not give us the results we're hoping for, (back off, evil eye!) and we decide not to continue the injects and IUI cycles, at least we now have some kind of backup plan. It may not be as efficient as the other treatments, but the fact that it would not require as much monitoring and dildocam sessions as the more invasive cycles, that scores big points with me.
So, here I am, cheering for my team, hoping for the best while still expecting the worse, but not focusing on it anymore.
Why do I even bother?
So last night was as much fun as I anticipated. Well, the dinner was very good. I made some chicken breasts stuffed with prociutto, basil, sun dried tomatos and ricotta cheese. De-li-scious, even for the lousy vergetarian I am! Everybody liked it and said so. That was nice. People were in a good mood, my brothers did not argue at all, quite a miracle in itself.
But of course, my Mom managed to criticize every little thing. Things are even worse when it has something to do with my father (they have been divorced for about 7 years). I get along fine with my dad and his girlfriend. They took us into their home for 3 months last year when our landlore decided to destroy our appartment (that's a whole other post subject). My dad has the most gorgeous garden, with lots of flowers and vegetables and herbs. My mom was the one taking care of it when they were together, but for the last 8 years or so, he took care of it by himself and has done a remarkable job. So, all this to say he gave me some pointers to start my own garden this year. He told me what kind of soil to buy, how to prepare the soil, etc. I did everything he told me to and when he came over last Friday, he told me everything looked great. See, it's not that complicated to compliment your child! My Mom took one look at our yard and told me all sorts of things I did not do right. I am sure she would have told me bad things too if I had asked her advice instead of my dad, but it seemed to push her even more to criticize since HE was the one that helped me. For goodness sake mom, you cheated on the man, you left him, you have no right to be mad at me for still listening to my dad's good advice and nice words. I find it so immature of her and I hate it when she puts us between them. I sound like a little child, but that's how she makes me feel.
On the other hand, my grandma was ok. She did not tell me anything mean. There was just this little comment about my belly... I have gained some weight since being on all these fertility drugs. I train a lot, eat right, but just can't seem to be able to lose those extra pounds. I am not ashamed of my love handles. I don't really care. My mom and brothers all are overweight and I consider myself lucky not to be like them, knowing how hard they struggle with it. My grandma always places a remark on the weight of one or another, you know, since she's so perfect and all. And last night it was my turn. She looked at my belly (which is not that round I swear!) and said "oh! you've got a belly!! Are you finally pregnant?" I aswered "nope, I'm just getting fat."
I don't know why I bother being nice to them and keep having them over for dinner. I am too kind I think. That makes me think of a story about my grandma.
My grandma has a very sensitive tongue. You put one drop of Tobasco sauce in the whole recipe and she turns red and screams "hot! hot! hoooot!!!" As I said, she likes to tell overweight people how fat they are. P is tall and heavy, but only because he has always done LOTS of sports. It's not fat, it's muscle. Anyway... he hates it when my grandma tells someone to lose weight or to eat less. One time, I was having them over for dinner and I was cooking some chicken with salsa. I asked P to go to the grocery store and buy some salsa. He knew perfectly well my grandma could not eat anything spicy. So he took 2 jars of hot salsa on purpose. He had this big grin on his face the whole meal. My grandma was all red and sweating and drinking glas after glass of water. So he had a small revenge. Come to think of it, me too.
Mother's Day
I don't want to insult the moms or moms-to-be. In no way do I want to take away what they are, do and give daily. I know Mother's Day is there to highlight the work these women do, without pay, everyday. I know it's there for lots of extraordinary women all around the world. I know it's there so I can say thanks to my mom and I love you to my grandma. The problem is, I don't feel like saying those things.
I never had a good relationship with my mother. Right now, it's average. We get along, nothing more. I really am not close to her but I can talk to her in a civilized manner, even, sometimes, with a little warmth. My grandma did not raise me, but found a way to criticize me all my life (and not just me, she treats everybody with condescendance and jealousy). She is now doing better though, she now thinks a little before judging. I don't feel accepted and welcome to be myself when I'm around them. If I wanted their inconditionnal love, I would have to be someone else, someone better. I stopped that a couple of years ago, I was getting sick of being someone I am not. Now I just listen to their mean comments, smile and nod and go on with MY life.
They're all coming for dinner tonight. I can already hear my mother's comments on everything I do (I told you to add compost to your garden! You paid too much for your car. Are you STILL not pregnant??!) She can't help it. If what she said was true, I would never do anything right. But I know better. I know I do a lot of things right and that, at my age, I don't need her approval and her pride. Would be nice, but I can live without it.
I'm not sure if Mother's Day is to celebrate her whole life as a mother, or the mother she was when I was a child, or the one she is now. I can't say she's been a bad mother. But I can't say she's been a good one either. She made a lot of mistakes, she treated me like crap, she always made fun of me and criticized everything I did. She always thought she was better than me. A bad mother? Maybe, but... There was always food on the table, she came to every ballet recital, every hockey game and graduations. She was mean, but she was also nice, when it counted. But then again, what do I know? After all, I don't know what it is to be a mother.
I hate Mother's Day, more and more each year. For weeks, we see pictures of babies, of glorified motherhood and cheesy Hallmark phrases everywhere. For weeks, all the infertile women struggling to make their dream come true are reminded, once again, that they are not in the click, that they don't KNOW what it is.
I'm not sure what to celebrate tonight. Is it the non-existent relationship with my mother? The one with my grandma? Is it the fact that I inherited their stupid critism? Is it the fact that I am not a mother? Or that I believe less and less that I will one day becomre one? Is it the fact that everything around me seems to remind me, all the time, that I am infertile? Is it the way that I become more and more distant from my friends with children because I just don't know what to say to them? I don't feel like celebrating at all. I don't feel like highlighting the greatness and magnifiscence of motherhood.
When is Infertile's Day anyway?
A friend
When we first started TTC, all of our friends knew nothing about infertility. I had nobody “like me” to talk to. So I turned to the internet. I found a forum where some girls were struggling with different kinds of infertility. I found support and friendship where I never thought would be possible. That forum not being only about IF, I also met many women with no IF problems at all. I made some real friends, whom I met in person at gatherings. Some girls I even saw many times after that, on our own, as friends, not only as forum members. One of them, I grew very close to and we used to talk to each other everyday on MSN. She is very supportive, very sensitive to what we are dealing with. She does not really understand it, because she has had 2 kids while we were TTC. But she respects me and is interested in what I have to say. I do not talk a lot about all this. The morning I got my positive hpt, I called my good friend M and then I called this friend, L. They are the 2 persons I know who would be there for me anytime.
L gave birth to her second child 2 weeks ago. I swallowed my infertile bitterness and went to see her at the hospital. She had a rough labor and her baby boy was in bad shape when we saw him. My heart went out to her and her family. She is having a hard time still. I don’t talk to her as often now. She’s very busy with the 2 children, her boyfriend not being able to take much time off from work and trying to get better after a hard c-section. I don’t expect any support from her now, I know she has a lot on her mind. I don’t ask anything of her. I know she thinks about me and wishes me all the best. I miss her, but I understand and won’t hold it against her. But I can't just call her and talk to her. If I talk about me, I would be selfish. If I talk about her, this would mean talking about labor, babies and breastfeeding and I am not strong enough to do that. I also have nothing to say about that, since I am such a dummy when it comes to babies.
What makes me sad is I have the feeling I just lost a good friend. Not that I think she will not still be my friend when everything comes back to normal. But things will never be the same. When she had only one kid, she would still have time to talk, to do stuff, to go out to lunch. But now, with 2 kids, she won’t be able to take as much time for herself as she used to. There won’t be any place for me and my infertility rants. I don’t blame her, I’m just sad about it... I will miss her and I don’t think I’ll be able to find someone as supportive and as sensitive as her for the wreck I sometimes am.
Maybe I am just paranoiac. Maybe I’m seeing things darker than they really are. Maybe it’s the Femara demon finally kicking in. Maybe I am jealous (oh dear god! not me!). Maybe I just can’t stand the thought of being friends with an ubber-fertile. I don’t know what it is exactly that’s making me feel so sad and uneasy. I don’t know why today, I can’t stop thinking about that. I feel stupid and childish.
Stupid hormones playing with my head again!
My furbabies
Obviously, I still have not much to talk about... So I thought it was the time to show you my two furbabies, as it seems to be a classic in blogland.
This is Patchouli, my 6 years-old tortie-point siamese. She has the most beautiful blue eyes. She takes after P for her eyes, and after me for her big butt.
And this is Tao, lynx-point siamese male. He died last year at only 14 months. He was the funniest cat I have ever known. He was talking and purring so loud all the time and he was SO cuddly and loving. I really miss my litlle peanut.
Reality dummies
I do not watch a lot of tv. We usually record the shows we want to watch and watch them all on Friday night or during the weekend, fastforwarding the ads. But we are big fans of Burnett's reality shows. So we watch Survivor, The Apprentice and The Contender, but we also watch The Amazing Race. I was surprised this week of how dumb everybody seemed to have become.
The Amazing Race
Let me just say for starters, I LOVE Uchenna and Joyce. They are very strong people and I wish that they win so they can reach their goal of becomming parents. I also love Rob and Amber, being the huge Survivor fan I am. I never liked Lynn and Alex, although Alex was ok, just following his bitchy boyfriend. Anyway. The dumb part: Rob thinking he's so much smarter than everybody else (he even said so!) and NOT getting on the earlier flight after all. Ok, Meredith and Gretchen are not always that bright. They often miss clues that are right there in front of them. Just think of the metal boxes Roadblock where Gretchen was just standing there, looking at the boxes instead of looking inside them and whining "this is impossible! I've looked through them all!" Oh and let's not forget this week's stupidest comment from Kelly, telling Ron he got out of the army by being a POW. Oh. My. God.
Survivor
I can't believe how dumb everybody was this week. I'm so frustrated these lazy persons stayed on the game just because of Tom and Ian, while the other team was working so hard and just couldn't win imunity. I loved Stephenie, I was rooting all the way for her. But stupid, stupid Helen had to go open her stupid mouth to Tom (oh please Tom, carry me to the end with you! I have done nothing since we arrived here but sit out on challenges and lay in the sun, but please keep me on!) and tell him the girls were against him. I can't believe she is stupid enough to actually think she's going to make it to the final 2...
The Apprentice
Alright, these are not dumb people, obviously. But let me just tell you this: I hate Craig! he is so condescending and arrongant, I can't stand him! He has no respect whatsoever for Kendra, he treats her like a little girl and pouts when she puts her foot down and makes a decision he did not agree with. Plus, he makes stupid decisions himself! I take this to heart because I am young like Kendra and I am self-employed and I constantly have to prove myself to older people. Being twice my age doesn't mean being twice as intelligent. I have been in this business for 8 years now, forgive me for finishing school when I was so young! I have been self-employed and self-sufficient for 5 years. I think I can be worth some respect. I am frustrated Craig is still standing only because he was lucky enough to be in the same team as Tana and Kendra. Anyway, we'll see next week when they'll all be on their own. He's gonna have nobody else to yell at but himself.
The Contender
I have nothing to say really about last week's show... I never loved boxing, but this show got me hooked!
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Wow, a totally TTC-free post! That's what happens when nothing happens in my TTC world! Still waiting to ovulate, will be starting to use OPKs tomorrow.
