Sunday, December 27, 2009

Option B

When reading over that last post, I realize it is crazy-long. So, I present option B: A recap of the recap:

This year sucked.

The end.

12

With New Year's quickly approaching, I have been reflecting on the past year and wondering, "what did this year mean to me and what did I learn?" Because, y'know... that's why everything happens, right? To learn? Although it turns out that there are actually 12 months in the year, my year seems to have consisted squarely of 2. When I think of 2009, I am thrown into a deep saddness. I feel incredibly guilty that although many wonderful things happened too, I am so focused on the negative that I feel that that is all that occured. I am positive that 2009 was the worst year I have ever experienced. Let's recap:

January:
We went to Disneyland on a family vacation. We were having the time of our lives until I succumbed to my addiction and peed on a stick. Uber faint line. Happy? or Sad? Hmmm, guess we'll find out.
When we got back, I entered beta hell within hours of getting off the plane. Depressing numbers all around.
February:
Miscarriage #2 within only 10 months of my first. It was a great way to start the year.
March:
Celebrate my 9th anniversary with DH.
April:
Perfect ovulation. Day 14. Too bad I was still in my 2 month "probation." My RE won't let us try until 2 complete cycles have passed after a miscarriage.
May:
LJ turns 7. We celebrate by getting her the cuttest birthday present ever. A rex rabbit. Actually, I celebrated a bit much and got one for myself too. I couldn't resist. They are just too adorable!
June:
No ovulation for me. My car is "out of commission" until we can save what seems like a million dollars to repair it. So glad I'll be couped up all summer for lack of transportation.
July:
Still not ovulating. I have now slipped into the seventh circle of hell and begin fighting a depression to put all others to shame. I am no longer sleeping, I have no energy, and I am feeling like a worthless individual, in addition to the world's worst mother and wife.
August:
Still super depressed. 3 pregnancy announcements in 1 week. 2 of which were my SILs. LJ goes back to school (I miss her.)
September:
I have a miraculous ovulation... FINALLY! We go forward with IUI #7. This makes me much happier than I have been for months. Happy enough to not really be too bothered with another pregnancy announcement by a SIL.
OCTOBER:
May very well be the worst month of my life. Beta hell ensues. A total of 9 draws (beginning at 13, ending at 790) and 3 ultrasounds. Progesterone injections everyday, 3 discussions with REs/OBs all ending with "you are going to miscarry." Morning sickness from hell, all knowing that it probably was all for not. The ending of the month was spectacular. A ruptured fallopian tube with severe hemorrhaging, and me being forced to allow a doctor that I had never met before to end my baby's life. I know... he wouldn't have survived anyway, but now I feel like I LET it happen. I am just now starting to remember things from that night that I am sure my subconcience was trying to hide forever. My pleading with God to let it all be a dream, to please let me have my baby, and apologizing profusely to the child I would never meet. Good times.
NOVEMBER:
Recovery is not easy for me. I am in a lot of pain although the Dr. insists that I "shouldn't be." More ultrasounds with the stranger Dr. and his reassurance that everything is fine. My beta dropped to 55 after surgery, so I should be back to normal in "no time." Then normal shatters. My beta begins to rise again, and that night I am back in the ER with a severely distended abdomen, and a small amount of pain. 6 hours later, I am in an ambulance being taken to a better hospital for another laparoscopy to repair my right tube, AGAIN. Diagnosis: Persistent Ectopic Pregnancy. I leave the hospital after a double dose of Methotrexate. Lucky me.
December:
Medical bills eat Santa's budget, and family parties steal my Christmas joy. I am astonished at how insensitive family can be. I really thought "I don't want to talk about it" was a pretty clear declaration. Apparently inquiring minds want to know, and will not settle for a teary plea to leave me alone. 3 SILs all happily sporting a pregnancy glow, while I feel like the black hole of the family. My RE put me on birth control that steals what sanity I have left and leaves me going through maxi pads like crazy. All the begging in the world will not convince my RE that I can do another IUI my next cycle, or that I can do without the birth control. The medical cloud is lifting and I am starting to remember more and more that not only was this horribly traumatic for my body, but that I LOST ANOTHER BABY. One that I am told again and again "would probably have been a healthy pregnancy if it had implanted in the right place." I know that those words are meant to be encouraging and give me hope that the "next time" I can do it. But instead, it leaves me incredibly sad. Another failure. This time my body murdered my baby. This was not my baby being "genetically abnormal", or that "something just went wrong with the embryo's development." This was caused by MY body.

Last week I met with my RE again. We discussed our plan for the new year which consists of an HSG sometime around the 10th, followed (hopefully) by an IUI in late January or early February. I will again be on the progesterone injections, and if God be willing and I manage to get pregnant, heparin injections twice a day.

I am so ready to move on. I can't bear the thought of another year like 2009. I don't think I would survive it. There was just too much heartache, so much of which I will keep to myself. I have so much more bottled up inside that I want to let out, but know that it will just come out as more rambling that makes no sense to anyone but me and make me sound even more unappreciative of the things that I DO have. I can't handle anymore. I feel so guilty for being so focused on the negative things in my life, when I have so much to be grateful for. My daughter and husband are the only things I have to live for. They are the only light I have left.

I guess some good did come out of December. I was finally able to get a referral to a counselor that specializes in infertility. Let's hope she can handle me. I am really looking forward to meeting with her.

On to 2010. May it be a year full of all the wondeful things that I thought I'd never get a chance to experience again, and to all of you who deserve your Happily Ever After's even more than me. I owe so much to all of you that have been here for me through everything. You know who you are. I am eternally grateful for your comments and emails. They mean soooo much to me.

Best wishes to you all.


Sunday, December 13, 2009

Booooring

I just wanted to let you all know that yes, I am alive. I just don't have anything to write about. My RE put me on birth control pills (because it's SO likely I'll get pregnant on my own *rolls eyes*) for this cycle and at least 1 more. I then have to go in for another HSG before we can get back on the TTC bandwagon. So, in short... I'm in limbo. Sleepless, frustrating, hormone induced limbo.

I can't wait for 2009 to be over. So long, worst year EVER!

Oh yeah, and if you were wanting to see the surgical pics from my ectopic, here is a link:
http://picasaweb.google.com/ItsJustMeim/Ectopic?feat=directlink
They are not for those with sensitive tummies. You've been warned.