It has been said a thousand times, but you spend your youth trying NOT to get pregnant. Before you know it, you're ready to be a mom and you CAN'T get pregnant.
This isn't something I've ever really talked about. I don't know why really--- it's not that I am ashamed of it but I guess it's, well, painful. Recently, I've talked about it more because I have a few friends trying to get get pregnant and are experiencing some difficulty. Some for the first time, some for their second child. No matter when you are trying to get pregnant, there is nothing more stressful or heartbreaking. I have a handful of friends who needed reproductive assistance. When I was going through it, I realized that this was the dirty little secret that no one talked about. There are millions of couples struggling to get pregnant but no matter what, when you try month after month, you feel as though you are the only one.
My story isn't unique. My husband and i went through a series of tests but we ultimately fell under the "unexplained" category. We tried for nearly a year. I invested hundreds of dollars in pregnancy tests, ovulation predictor kits, books on fertility... You name it. I thought each of these items would be like finding the miracle diet pill. That boom, we would have sex and I'd get pregnant. I mean, that's how it's suppose to happen right?
Nothing made me feel less of a woman than not being able to get pregnant. Wow. That's a tough sentence to write but at least for me, it's the truth. As a woman, your body was made for this purpose and to not be able to get pregnant, made me feel useless. I did blame myself, which I know now is foolish. But, follow my train of thought... my husband had one test, just one which he passed with flying colors. There was absolutely nothing wrong with his sperm, so then if it's not him, it's got to be... me? Yeah.
Being an anxious person didn't help the process either. Please don't misunderstand, anxiety didn't cause me not to get pregnant, it just made it harder to deal with. Anxiety does not have anything to do with getting pregnant. If you are trying to get pregnant, repeat that to yourself as though it were a personal mantra. By the way, there are a number of things you don't say to someone trying to get pregnant:
1. Relax, it will just happen
2. You don't miss what you don't have
3. Not everyone is suppose to have kids
4. Can't you just adopt?
5. Do you really want to put your body through all this?
Those were my favorites. People don't mean to be insensitive, they are just trying to help. Most of these lines came from close friends and family so I know at the time they were being comforting-- it just didn't work. Chalk infertility up to one of those topics where you never know what the right thing to say is.
My husband was my rock. He was the only one I could turn to during all of the this. Some of the fertility tests were very painful but he was by my side. After much discussion with our reproductive endocrinologist, I chose to skip the option to take another pill and get right into the action. Our first attempt was to be an IUI (intrauterine insemination). This was going to require shots, frequent blood work and almost daily internal ultrasounds-- over a two week period.
I didn't complain-- not once. I knew what I was doing was important, but looking back now, I felt horrible all the time. The hormones made me sick and very tired. Our first attempt was fortunately our only attempt because I became pregnant with our daughter. I would do this all over again just to have her and I never doubt the decisions we made. Pregnancy was awesome. I didn't want to just become a mom, I wanted to be pregnant. I wanted to experience all the excitement. I remember it all like it was yesterday. My first trimester was difficult and I almost lost her a few weeks in, but it was first time that my maternal instinct kicked in and I knew she was going to be just fine.... even though at the time I was convinced she was a he.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Recovery in 3 Acts: Act 1 Hope
I have avoided this blog for weeks--- and it hasn't gone unnoticed. At first, I kept telling myself I was very busy but that was my usual denial. I didn't want to face my fears and discuss all the emotion and noise in my head. When you begin to write it, you really feel it and I've spent the better part of my life (or at least the last 13 years) trying not to feel anything. I numb myself in anyway I know how.
November 15. It came, we saw, she conquered. My mom bravely fought what will hopefully be her last battle with Cancer. She had a successful surgery in which Dr. N declared her to be Cancer-free. CANCER FREE. We heard that term once before from Dr. S the oncologist but his came with the disclaimer that we won't know for sure until they open her up. When they did, there was nothing there and most importantly her lymph nodes looked good. We still patiently await the biopsy results but Dr. N and Dr. S are confident about her health and her long future.
Where was I on November 15? Home in bed. The Italian guilt did kick in.... as usual but not much could have been done.By an act of what I believe was divine intervention, I contracted some mutant alien version of strep throat which had me on anti-biotics, steroids and percocet. I slept through the surgery-- and mostly the day for that matter. I was completely knocked out by the pain killers which was good because looking back, I don't know who I was fooling but I wouldn't have been strong enough to survive the day. Even though I wasn't there, I was scared. I was scared for days leading up to the surgery. No longer in fear of the Cancer but in fear of the unknown. Surgery is risky and this was big. My psychosis is my worst enemy...
I didn't get to see my mom for nearly 8 days because I was sick. The last think I wanted to do was be responsible for spreading germs. Let's face it-- hospitals are the breeding grounds for disease as it is, no need to make it worse. She couldn't talk to me either which was hard. She was heavily medicated and in a great deal of pain. Two weeks later and she still is in a great deal of pain.
Trying to take care of her is an odd feeling-- not bad or good, just odd. I can't really verbalize all that I am going through right now. Being an only child she did(and still does to an extent) take care of me. I am happy to do it, but it gives me anxiety. I wonder if she is ever going to be the same after this surgery. Will she ever be the same mom she was. These are my real concerns.
I miss my mom. I am beyond words thankful that she is still here and fought this battle as hard as she did. Yet, at the same time, she's not here. I suppose all of this could be normal-- but nothing I feel is ever normal so who knows. One day at a time is all I can do. It's all we can do.
November 15. It came, we saw, she conquered. My mom bravely fought what will hopefully be her last battle with Cancer. She had a successful surgery in which Dr. N declared her to be Cancer-free. CANCER FREE. We heard that term once before from Dr. S the oncologist but his came with the disclaimer that we won't know for sure until they open her up. When they did, there was nothing there and most importantly her lymph nodes looked good. We still patiently await the biopsy results but Dr. N and Dr. S are confident about her health and her long future.
Where was I on November 15? Home in bed. The Italian guilt did kick in.... as usual but not much could have been done.By an act of what I believe was divine intervention, I contracted some mutant alien version of strep throat which had me on anti-biotics, steroids and percocet. I slept through the surgery-- and mostly the day for that matter. I was completely knocked out by the pain killers which was good because looking back, I don't know who I was fooling but I wouldn't have been strong enough to survive the day. Even though I wasn't there, I was scared. I was scared for days leading up to the surgery. No longer in fear of the Cancer but in fear of the unknown. Surgery is risky and this was big. My psychosis is my worst enemy...
I didn't get to see my mom for nearly 8 days because I was sick. The last think I wanted to do was be responsible for spreading germs. Let's face it-- hospitals are the breeding grounds for disease as it is, no need to make it worse. She couldn't talk to me either which was hard. She was heavily medicated and in a great deal of pain. Two weeks later and she still is in a great deal of pain.
Trying to take care of her is an odd feeling-- not bad or good, just odd. I can't really verbalize all that I am going through right now. Being an only child she did(and still does to an extent) take care of me. I am happy to do it, but it gives me anxiety. I wonder if she is ever going to be the same after this surgery. Will she ever be the same mom she was. These are my real concerns.
I miss my mom. I am beyond words thankful that she is still here and fought this battle as hard as she did. Yet, at the same time, she's not here. I suppose all of this could be normal-- but nothing I feel is ever normal so who knows. One day at a time is all I can do. It's all we can do.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Unexplained
My favorite part about being a neurotic mess is the "unexplained" anxiety that I seem to have. Usually, I can pinpoint the reasons for every panic attack, every stomach knot and every sleepless night however, there is a small percentage of anxiety filled days which fall into one of those "unexplained" categories. I woke up this morning with slight anxiety and then by 10 am, I was so filled to the brim with anxiety that I couldn't breathe. It's unnerving and disrupts my production level for the day. When I can determine where my anxiety is stemming from, it's easier for me to control my mood but in these situations, EVERYTHING bothers me.
If you aren't an anxious person, it's a difficult feeling to describe but it feels as though I am about to jump out of my skin. It's hard to be around myself--- which is tragic considering how much I enjoy alone time. If possible, I try to take a nap when this happens. Unfortunately, I don't always have that option (side note-- someone is on the phone around me and I want to scream because they are too loud-- this is all the anxiety. If I wasn't so anxious, I really wouldn't give a shit). I do have medication prescribed to me for such occasions, but given that I have to pick my daughter up in 2 hours, I need to be alert and have to pass....
My mind is always racing at a million miles an hour. I suspect part of this anxiety is a result of my mom's surgery on November 15. I am dreading this surgery almost as much as my mom is. It scares me to death actually but I would think it's too soon for my anxiety to start it's mind warp over the surgery but maybe it is. I have irrational fears with connected superstitions to all the "bad events" in my life (for example, I refuse to fly on the anniversary of my father's death because I think the plane will crash. Yeah, completely fucking insane. I know). In typical neurotic fashion, I fear my mom having surgery so close to the holiday because my husband's mom died a few days before Thanksgiving. This thought is starting to consume me--- and not in a good way.
Do you know what only perpetrates these irrational thoughts? Oprah. That's right, the Queen of Daytime TV should also be called the Queen of the Damned. She continues to put on the saddest, most gut wrenching, stories I've ever heard and I think, "OMG, if someone's life can be this tragic, then how will I avoid such tragedy?" Of course, the solution here is obvious-- stop watching Oprah. ...but that's like giving up chocolate. Impossible.
I sit here, barely breathing, wondering when the anxiety is going to disappear but also wonder if this is going to continue for the next two weeks in anticipation of my mom's surgery. I hope this anxiety falls into the unexplained category because honestly, I can't take the next two weeks of this. When my anxiety gets this bad, it is almost too painful to deal with the day.
There isn't much for me to do to take my mind off of it. Working doesn't help. I'm not sure what it's like to be normal and not have all this noise in my head. I envy people who are laid back.... Clearly, anyone would be concerned about surgery, I just don't know of it's normal to start worrying about it two weeks out. Then again, maybe the surgery isn't what's causing all my anxiety. Maybe there is another trigger.... My subconscious is a scary place and i try to avoid any deep searching of my thoughts. It only ends up in doubling my dose of xanax. Sometimes it's just best to leave it alone.
If you aren't an anxious person, it's a difficult feeling to describe but it feels as though I am about to jump out of my skin. It's hard to be around myself--- which is tragic considering how much I enjoy alone time. If possible, I try to take a nap when this happens. Unfortunately, I don't always have that option (side note-- someone is on the phone around me and I want to scream because they are too loud-- this is all the anxiety. If I wasn't so anxious, I really wouldn't give a shit). I do have medication prescribed to me for such occasions, but given that I have to pick my daughter up in 2 hours, I need to be alert and have to pass....
My mind is always racing at a million miles an hour. I suspect part of this anxiety is a result of my mom's surgery on November 15. I am dreading this surgery almost as much as my mom is. It scares me to death actually but I would think it's too soon for my anxiety to start it's mind warp over the surgery but maybe it is. I have irrational fears with connected superstitions to all the "bad events" in my life (for example, I refuse to fly on the anniversary of my father's death because I think the plane will crash. Yeah, completely fucking insane. I know). In typical neurotic fashion, I fear my mom having surgery so close to the holiday because my husband's mom died a few days before Thanksgiving. This thought is starting to consume me--- and not in a good way.
Do you know what only perpetrates these irrational thoughts? Oprah. That's right, the Queen of Daytime TV should also be called the Queen of the Damned. She continues to put on the saddest, most gut wrenching, stories I've ever heard and I think, "OMG, if someone's life can be this tragic, then how will I avoid such tragedy?" Of course, the solution here is obvious-- stop watching Oprah. ...but that's like giving up chocolate. Impossible.
I sit here, barely breathing, wondering when the anxiety is going to disappear but also wonder if this is going to continue for the next two weeks in anticipation of my mom's surgery. I hope this anxiety falls into the unexplained category because honestly, I can't take the next two weeks of this. When my anxiety gets this bad, it is almost too painful to deal with the day.
There isn't much for me to do to take my mind off of it. Working doesn't help. I'm not sure what it's like to be normal and not have all this noise in my head. I envy people who are laid back.... Clearly, anyone would be concerned about surgery, I just don't know of it's normal to start worrying about it two weeks out. Then again, maybe the surgery isn't what's causing all my anxiety. Maybe there is another trigger.... My subconscious is a scary place and i try to avoid any deep searching of my thoughts. It only ends up in doubling my dose of xanax. Sometimes it's just best to leave it alone.
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