kapachino

Tag: pcos

  • a new attitude (hopefully)

    Last Tuesday an ultrasound showed that I had two lovely little follicles growing, they just weren’t big enough to do anything with yet. So I went back Friday, fully expecting them to have grown, only to be told that they were gone. The nurse didn’t know why, so I’m going to see my doctor on Wednesday to see what she thinks and to make a new plan for my next cycle.

    I was crushed, but I didn’t have time to process it properly because I had to go straight to work. I worked until past 11 p.m. that night, and had to be back at 7 a.m. on Saturday. When I came home on Friday I went straight to bed hoping for at least a few hours of sleep, but instead I tossed and turned, and inevitably I started to cry. I prayed and wept and soaked in my disappointment until sometime in the early hours of the morning I fell asleep.

    Come Saturday morning I was back at work, exhausted but alive. That day I found solace in my job, taking care of people in much worse situations that I’m in. I began to see the need for a different attitude, because this infertility isn’t just going to go away and I fully realize that it could be a struggle that we deal with for years and years. I can’t bear the thought of feeling the way I feel for that long.

    When I finally had some time on Sunday I was searching around online for a Bible study geared toward infertile couples, and I came upon this blog post titled “What does the Bible teach us about infertility?” It hit me hard, and here are some quotes that stood out to me:

    Be committed to fervent prayer concerning issues with infertility. It is God, not human technology that opens the womb.

    I don’t know why, but I haven’t really been praying for this. I freely ask others to pray for me, and depend on those prayers, but when it comes down to it why don’t I have faith that God can do this for me?

    While struggling with infertility, pride and jealousy are especially bothersome sins. I am not more worthy of conceiving than a teenager, welfare mom, or a mom that already has a lot of children. In God’s economy, our worth is identical.

    I have spent way too much time lately feeling sorry for myself and being envious of other people. There are situations popping up all the time that have fostered the bitterness in my heart, and it’s not a pleasant way to live.

    Don’t complain to others (not even your husband) about your lost dreams and sorrows. I am not talking about being dishonest with others. But there is a huge difference between stating, “We are praying for a baby,” and complaining. Complaining is grumbling and insinuating that God has not been fair. It makes others uncomfortable and, more importantly, misrepresents God. God is sufficient to carry your burdens; leave them at the cross.

    It is all too easy for me to sink into depression when I feel my dream of having lots of kids slipping away. That’s where I was headed on Friday night. I believe in being transparent with others regarding my struggles, but I want to be clear that God is enough for me. He has already blessed me with so much, and I want to be a witness to the joy that hope in God gives despite difficulty. I don’t think I’ve done a good job with this lately.

    Even as I write this I am praying and willing my attitude to change because I’m still feeling very sad. When it comes down to it, though, I don’t want to be sad. My husband told me the other day when I was depressed, “Kathleen, I love you, and we are going to live a happy life together.” Right now the only thing preventing me from being happy is me. Having a baby won’t fulfill me; only God can do that. All the joy I could ever want or need is found in Him, and He needs to be my priority.

    And who knows but that He is preparing us for something special, beyond our wildest dreams.

  • an important week: some thoughts

    In about thirty minutes I’m going to make my epic return to work, and I wanted to take a second to get a few thoughts down before I go.

    ***

    One. After not working for awhile I’m wondering, will I remember how to do this? Will I remember how to manage my time, how to do all my skills, will I remember to do all the little pieces of charting that we’re required to do? I’m also wondering, how will people react to me today? After my two weeks off not only did I get a chemical peel that is still in the stages of healing (I know there will be some funny looks), but I’ve also decided to start wearing a lot less makeup.

    Two. Tomorrow I go in for an ultrasound to determine whether my follicles are ready, whatever that means. I have resisted the urge to Google the hell out of IUI’s because I don’t want to obsess over it, but it’s still hard to keep calm and think about other things. If all goes well I’ll be inseminated by the end of the week and in two weeks I could know for sure that I’m pregnant. That’s a weird thought. In two weeks the whole thing could have failed and I’ll have to deal with that disappointment. That’s a sad thought.

    Three. Somewhere in between working, doctor’s visits, and taking care of my husband and dogs, I intend to keep running despite the heat. I’ve decided to keep playing soccer this fall, and I’m tired of being out of shape. I also miss yoga, so I’d like to start back up with that this week. (See, I have to make decisions regardless of what happens with the IUI. I can’t not play soccer because I think I’ll be pregnant by then; that’s just asking for failure.)

    ***

    My thirty minutes are nearly up. Here’s hoping my first day of work goes well, and that I can stay awake till the end of my shift.

  • friday things: odds & ends

    I started watching Glee from the beginning tonight. My brother had told me that there was zero chance that I wouldn’t like it, and he was right. In fact, I teared up in the first episode because of how happy it made me. My husband watched it with me and commented on all the stereotypes and how it’s basically just a cheesy high school movie. I looked him in the eye and said, “I like that.”

    ***

    My in-laws have been keeping Oliver for us since before David’s surgery, but since they’re going on vacation in the morning we got him back tonight. Even though we’re a little nervous about how it’ll work out with the big guy around, I have to say that I’ve missed him.

    It wasn’t two seconds after I sat down that his whole body was in my lap!

    ***

    Here’s a little TMI for you: today was day one of my feminine cycle. I can honestly say that I’ve never looked forward to it so much, because after almost 20 months of trying & waiting for one reason or another we are finally proceeding with fertility treatment: ovulation induction with intrauterine insemination. I debated on whether or not to share this, but I figured I already went through one miscarriage with you and it turned out okay. So today, despite dealing with my usual horrendous cramps and accompanying nausea, I was actually excited. I got a baseline ultrasound and a prescription for Clomid, which I start on Sunday. For anyone who has taken it before, what can I expect?

    ***

    On my way home from the doctor’s office I dug around in my wallet and discovered a long-forgotten gift card to Smoothie King with $7 left on it! Total score. It’s the little things. Then I stopped by a store I had a Groupon for called One Green Street and picked up a few new organic products.

    One of my goals is to transition to all-natural personal care products, so I’m trying out some different kinds to see what I like best. I’ll be sure to let you know how I like these.

    ***

    Today was a success! What about you?

  • this is what it’s really like (on miscarriage)

    I confess that before this week I lived in complete and utter ignorance when it came to miscarriages. I was under the naïve impression that if it happened fairly early on, that everything just came out in a rush, all at once, and then it was over with. I pictured it kind of like when a woman’s water breaks before she goes into labor – messy, but very little physical pain.

    Ha. Hahahahaha.

    When I first began bleeding this week, and I knew what was happening, I called my doctor’s office and also spoke with several friends who had had miscarriages in the past. They all told me the same thing: it’s like a heavy period. And since I’ve had some pretty bad periods in my life, I thought I’d be able to handle it just fine. I thought I’d be back at work on Thursday, or at the latest Friday. Well, maybe for some people it is like that. But for me, it wasn’t even comparable.

    When this all started on Tuesday, my body didn’t hurt too badly. I spent most of the day in bed just because I didn’t feel up for anything else. On Wednesday morning I was still planning on going back to work the next day, so I got up, took a shower, and got dressed. Almost right afterward some pretty bad cramps hit, so I changed out of my jeans and into some PJ pants and crawled back into bed. It was at this point that the heating pad (which is now practically attached to me) made its first appearance and I began popping ibuprofen like candy. I spent that day sleeping, reading, and watching HGTV with my mom. Between her and my husband I didn’t have to leave my bed for anything other than to go to the bathroom.

    Since Wednesday had been harder than I expected, I went ahead and called in sick to work on Thursday. I still thought that the worst had passed, but at 1 a.m. on Thursday I was woken up by the most terrible pain I’ve ever experienced in my life. It steadily increased for two hours until I was crying, writhing, and wailing. The only sentence I could get out was, “God, you have to help me,” which I cried over and over. I felt like my insides were being ripped out of my body. We considered going to the ER, but I had a feeling the pain would pass, and it eventually did. I slept for a couple of hours before more cramps woke me up, although these were bearable in comparison.

    Thursday morning was spent bedbound, and although I felt better, I was eventually persuaded to call my doctor. She called in a prescription for Vicodin, but at this point I didn’t think I’d need it. I thought that surely, this time, the worst was over.

    David had been home with me this whole time, but he happened to have a doctor’s appointment himself that afternoon that he couldn’t miss. He wanted to pick up my prescription for me before he left, but it wasn’t ready yet. I was feeling good, so I let him go. The next hour was one that I wish I could blot out of my life, but I know it will be seared on my mind forever.

    The pain came back suddenly, even worse than before. I don’t know how I did it, but somehow I managed to drive myself to the pharmacy, pick up my prescription, and drive home. I am proud that I did this without fainting, getting in a wreck, or vomiting all over my car. It was by far the hardest task I have ever had to do, because I felt like I was going to explode. I thought I was living the last moments of my life.

    I barely made it in my door and to the bathroom before my body accomplished what it had been trying to do: push my baby out of my body. I will never forget the plop it made in the water, or the way it felt sliding out of me. I didn’t realize it would be so big. I thought it had already gone, and I wasn’t prepared. I cried and cried. I said goodbye again.

    After that, the worst of the physical pain really was over, although I was not free of significant cramping. I made a conscious decision that I wasn’t going to throw up, took a Vicodin, got into bed, and called my sister-in-law because I couldn’t be alone. She came over as soon as she could and spent some time crying with me and praying for me. After I had grieved myself dry, we lay there together and relaxed. I knew that I had just lived through the worst day of my life so far, and it could only get better from there.

    Today I’m recovering. I have very little pain now. I was able to shower, dress, and do a few chores already today, and plan to make a trip to Target with my sister-in-law later which I am really looking forward to. I don’t have to go back to work until Monday, and even then my manager told me to only come if I’m really ready. I’m still quite weak and have very little appetite, but I’ve turned a corner.

    So that’s the ugly story of my miscarriage. I didn’t realize I could live through such pain. Before this, I thought I wanted to have a natural childbirth. I still like that idea, but if it is anything like what I went through this week, I don’t know if I can do it. I want to get pregnant again as soon as I can, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, because the possibility of this happening again is always there.

    Before I go get back on my feet, get back into life outside my bed, and start writing about more normal subjects, I just want to thank everyone for being there for me. I can’t count the number of comments, e-mails, texts, and phone calls I’ve received, from family, close friends, acquaintances, and people I’ve never even met. Some just to say I’m sorry and offer whatever words of encouragement they can, and others to share their own stories with me. I want you to know that I treasure every single word, and anytime I hear from someone it lifts my spirits.

    With God’s help and with all of you, I know I can do this. I’ll be okay.

  • goodbye, gumball

    When I found out that I was pregnant, I was surprised, overjoyed, excited, and afraid. It didn’t feel real to me, and I kept worrying that something was wrong. The only real symptom I had was that I seemed to be a little more hungry, but food was distasteful. People kept telling me how lucky I was, and went on to tell me their pregnancy horror stories of vomiting for 7 months straight. I thought to myself how great it would be if I continued to feel this well – as long as everything was okay with the baby. I tried to convince myself over and over that this was really happening, and that I shouldn’t worry and just be happy. But I couldn’t shake the anxiety.

    For two weeks I simultaneously anticipated and dreaded my follow-up appointment with the reproductive endocrinologist (RE). I wanted to see the baby again with my own eyes, and know that it had grown since before. If everything looked okay, I think I could have relaxed.

    I brought David along with me this time. My doctor came breezing in and asked me several questions about my symptoms. I told her that I had mild cramping almost every single day, but she assured me that this was completely normal. I mentioned that I had started having a little spotting that morning.

    We did the ultrasound next, and the baby was definitely there and it had grown. I was measuring at 6 weeks, 3 days – but wait, shouldn’t I be more like 7 weeks by now? But then we saw a flicker of a heartbeat, and my spirits lifted. It was a beautiful sight, and David squeezed my hand. The doctor turned the sound on, and I heard a regular heartbeat. Sort of like I hear every day on my patients. Hmm.

    “Is that the fetal heartbeat?” I asked.

    “Yes…” the doctor replied.

    “Is that not slow?”

    “It’s a little slow. I’m going to try it again.”

    But no matter what, the heart rate was only in the upper 90’s. The slow heartbeat combined with my spotting and the fact that the baby hadn’t developed quite as much as it should have put me at an increased risk for miscarriage. I was given instructions to stop exercising, eat more (I had actually lost a pound), cut back on coffee and return in one week for another ultrasound.

    I didn’t get anything else accomplished the rest of that day. It was hard not to let my mind take me to bad places, but I still hoped that if I just took it easy for the next week then everything would turn out fine.

    The next morning, however, proved that nothing was fine. Instead of spotting I had outright bleeding. I called in sick to work, got back in bed, and waited for the doctor’s office to open – it was 5:30 a.m. When it did, the nurse had me come in to get my progesterone level tested, which is a hormone that helps maintain the pregnancy. She gave me some supplements, and when she called me later it turned out that my levels were low. I took a supplement, but by that time it was too late. Throughout the day, despite bedrest, my cramping and bleeding had only increased. I was – am – in the middle of a miscarriage.

    Like the pregnancy itself, I had thought about miscarriage so many times but never actually thought it would happen to me. I had just started forming an attachment to little Gumball after hearing his heart beat for the first time, and the next day – he’s gone. I’m glad we got that experience, though. No one can take it away from us.

    Physically I’m feeling extremely crampy, nauseous, and weak, but that’s nothing compared to the emotional distress I’m in. David gets mad at me anytime I start to blame myself, and I know he’s right. Still, it’s hard not to think of things I possibly did wrong, like drinking coffee and exercising too much. But what really happened is just that there was some kind of abnormality with the pregnancy, and it wasn’t safe to continue. I get that. But now we have to start all over, and that means fertility treatment. It’s devastating and overwhelming.

    I’m trying to see the positive. Like the fact that I know it’s possible for us to conceive, so we do have options. Also that one day I’ll be able to support someone else who is going through this and be able to tell them, “I’ve been there.” I really, really like my reproductive endocrinologist, so I feel safe that I get to continue in her care. And of course, knowing that God has a perfect plan for me helps immensely, even if it has become a cliche.

    But the truth is that this is hard – harder than I expected and I’m not really sure how to live a normal life right now.