Grief

 I have found that my recent doctors visits are causing a wake. I am spun for a couple days after the visit or test. It seems to be more obvious to me now. Maybe it was always like that, but I wasn't as tuned into myself before...but it is like a neon sign to me now.

I can mask fairly well during the visit, but afterwards, it is like a crash. I want to cry and hide and be taken care of. None of which are realistic anymore.

Having to receive monthly infusions now has challenged my sense of self and belief in my strength.

Am I really a strong woman or have I just made myself into a character in my mind? A woman that can handle anything thrown at her. A woman that can balance all the dishes and dance steps. A woman that can smile no matter what is being said about her. A woman that can walk into any room with confidence and poise and carry on a conversation with anyone there regardless of the topic.

Now I feel like a shell, I feel broken and covered in duct tape to hold it together and no one seems to notice because I have enchanted them for so long, they can't see me any other way.

When I saw my doctor last I broke down on the exam table telling her I was overwhelmed and she told me to be thankful of all I have. It felt like a slap in the face.

When I started getting my infusions over a year ago, and all the tests prior to that, I had drawn a line in the sand, that I don't want needles in my hands. I had a horrible experience many years ago from an ER hospital visit where I got a series of small hard lumps in my left arm that took months to resolve. I was in so much pain from them that I told The Barren that I NEVER want an IV in my hand ever again. My line was upheld with one exception, my endo surgery back in 2012.

Yesterday I had to cross it again at my infusion with a new nurse.*

Tuesday (the day before) I went for an MR enterography. For mine, you have to drink two and half bottles of thick fluid that lights up your gut, and then they give you medicine to slow your gut down, and then inject you with contrast, and take a bunch of photos face down in a MRI machine. The nurse tried multiple times to get a line started in my arm, before declaring it done, all the while my left arm, was left sore, swollen, bruised and an unviable option for my infusion the next day. 

*Hence the need to seek new veins.

When the infusion nurse said she'd be gentle and not leave a mark, I had to fold...I had to get my long fought for medicine. My self advocacy tank was empty, what choice did I have?

I quickly set into play a weighing of the options in my mind and thought, 

Ideally this decision will not land me in the ER again. 

A phrase I use far more often these days.

After she placed the IV she stepped away to attend to other matters and I shed a couple tears...I told myself to hold it together until we were somewhere else. Somewhere softer than an artificially lit room, with artificial plants devoid of images, and filled with the scent of rubbing alcohol. I think I was able to wipe the teardrops without being seen. The Barren sent me a text message shortly after that promised I could cry it all away that night when he got home. That idea gave me some extra bravery and I sat a little taller.

Two hours later I was back in my car, and driving to the hardware store to pick up some plants to put into the soil on my patio before the wave of fatigue hit. I went home, ate some rice and tofu and sat in silence. Then around 5pm, The Barren called and said he could not make any more choices for the day and so I called in an order to the local Vietnamese restaurant and The Barren picked it up on the way home. He then told me about how horrible his day was and I listened and told him I was sorry he had a rough day, ideally things will be less stressful now that he was home. My arm was itching and aching from the day before and I think I hid that from him too.

I ended up falling asleep on the couch while he watched something on YouTube and then crawled into bed, asking him before falling back to sleep if he thought I was strong.

He said: you are a warrior, you have had to fight for so much.

This made me sadder than I thought it would. 

Infertility has taught me a lot about grief, and sadness appearing in new and unexpected places. It has taught me how to speak up in medical spaces and ask questions, but also fortify myself for the answers as they are often ones you don't want. It has marked me in ways seen and unseen.

The new infusion nurse told me that I had such a calm serene energy about me. I thanked her and realized that my outward self was on display and that my inner dialog of tears, duct tape and sadness was hidden from sight, thankfully.

Memory of loss, and a little growth

**trigger warning: miscarriage** 

Today marks the anniversary of my final miscarriage.

I wrote about it HERE when it was happening.

I was alone, and one of my old-man cats sat on me or sat with me the whole time. It was unlike him, and now I am thankful he sensed that I was very alone, and losing my final attempt of motherhood. He is woven into the memory of the days.

Since then, when this day arrives I remember that final loss as the end of the pavement. A path I was familiar with that was now suddenly, unpaved and new and unknown. I took a self portrait that day, strangely I had a slight smirk. Maybe it was reflex to smile, and then at the same moment, I realized it was not happy or sad...but just was. That is the lingering feeling now.

It just was

I think of my star child often; sometimes they come to me in visions or dreams....other times I suddenly feel like I have forgotten to pick someone up or that the person I want to turn to has walked away, and I am left standing alone, staring into the ether.

They never got big enough to ever know completely. 

Now several years later, it is a day like others, except there are pauses along the way that I take to reflect and send love out. Much like days of loss for my grandparents and friends and companions that have left this plane of existence.

I think that is growth...I have learned how to carry the sorrow in a manageable way. Does that mean I have forgotten it or moved on....not really. The Barren has been pointing out and gazing at small humans much more often these days and I think that has been a revisited heartbreak for me and him. We are emotional and empathic people, so this is natural for us...but with a bitter twist of our own loss folded in.

So I send extra gentle hugs out to you all, as you remember your losses after reading this.

We are the broken but not lost

Bound

 

You have got to be kidding me...

I went for an MRI this morning, the doctor is wanting to knock something else of the horrible list.

I have had MRIs before, more times than I'd like, but all seemingly necessary.

Today though, today I had a problem.

I arrived ahead of time, got in right away...and in a great shift, was not required to drink strange "juices" or volunteer a vein for glowing fluids.

Instead it was a strait "let the magnets take the photos" kind of MRI.

I went in, relaxed and un-phased and was in my double gown situation (one put on forward and one backwards to avoid any peep show) and sat on the MRI bench and was then told that I'd be heading into the machine head first and backwards....I was strapped in, arms bound at my side and elevated and inserted into the machine....one of the techs said..." are you okay" and I said "NO, No I am NOT okay...."

to which I was pulled out of the machine, and had to catch my breath.

I was having a FULL BLOWN PANIC attack

I asked to look back at the machine, so I could "confirm I was not going into a sarcophagus" 

I did a quick scan of what was triggering me and asked....

"Can I release my arms?"...it was allowed and one of the techs asked if maybe a towel over my eyes would help, I agreed to that.

I was very thankful for the kindness and I apologized a million times, to which they said all was fine.

I was asked if it was better, I said yes and back into the machine I went to complete the test.

It was a half hour of booming an clanking noises...breathing exercises and then I was done.

I thanked them again...got dressed and left. 

Shuffled off to my car and cried.

I was mortified, embarrassed and suddenly understood why horses are given blinders.

The less I could see, the safer I felt.

Counter intuitive to my years of meditation, I needed to massively disassociate.

Ostrich myself to not feel bound and threatened.

I had my second infusion this week, I had a breakthrough pain episode this week, I had a massive deadline this week and then this MRI.

Maybe I really needed to just hide, maybe all of this is overwhelming...

maybe I do need to escape.

My 20th wedding anniversary is Tuesday

We have a night at a local boutique hotel booked, but we are both at a loss.

We can't travel right now, we can't break away just yet, it is all in the air.

BUT, we are gonna have time together and in a different bed.

It is also the anniversary of our first miscarriage and a death anniversary of a beloved pet.

We were social yesterday, going to a family event to carve pumpkins, and then follow it with a Halloween adults only party...but everyone was talking about their kids and how it is having teenagers or younger kiddos.

The Barren and I just exchanged looks most of the time and 

nodded and said "oh my, yeah that sounds difficult"

These days have me mentally bound too.

I reminisce on the days that we had hoped for, the times that were supposed to happen.

Our G-daughter is the age of our star child, she is a physical reminder of passing time.

I adore this time of year, the wind down with joyful punctuations of celebration. 

Building our memory space for Dia De Los Muertos today, I placed a doll amongst the photos of family long gone. Marigolds line the edge of the space, a figurine of a black dog to guide the spirits, candles to light the way. Joyful calaveras to help with the celebration. I made a space to remember our beloved animal companions who are no longer with us.

After everything is in place...

Something magical happens in the quiet of the house, after we put out drinks and food for the spirits...the house feels full, a place of calm and filled with love.

There is no sadness, our minds fill with happy memories of those visiting.

Maybe I'll hide (stick my head in the clouds) for a few days with my sweetie, forget all that is required of me, forget all the doctors appointments, the state of the world, the general malaise and 

simply float in those unbound moments of what if.

Wishing you all an unbound hallows eve

celebrate your personal magic

because you ARE magical

The other side

The freeway is open again after it being closed for 2 weeks.

21 of the 23 missing are accounted for and deceased.

The final two are children, a 2 year old and a 16 year old

The search dogs are still seeking and are still hoping to find them.

It has been a surreal experience to say the least. 

Even as someone on the outer edges of the actual event.

Our towns are small and friendly and everyone knows someone.

I mean EVERYONE knows someone.

I was away from my yoga community for two weeks and it felt like an eternity.

I got a couple emails checking on me and seeing how I was on the other side of the mud

I took the train into work once, as it was allowed through the slide area, but not automobiles.

It was a 12 hour process from start to finish for a 40 mile commute and 6.5 hour workday

I spent most of my time think and hoping that search and rescue would continue to find people.

I also finished some artwork that is opening in a museum show next weekend.

That time was a gift, as I was able to work on it almost uninterrupted and without concern.

A local yoga studio opened last week, and I had purchased around Xmas a pre-opening special pass for a month of unlimited classes. So I was thankful to get into a studio to practice and work my kinks out. My whole body ached, my mind went to dark places way to quickly and I was not sleeping much at all. I was glad to get into the first class this last Friday and then again on Sunday.

I was able to drive to work on Monday and did yoga at my normal studio and it was strange 

(I can not find the right word to describe the new reality).

A lot of the people in class are still evacuated from their homes, and I heard more stories of loss and lives gone and last moments.

It was like having a javelin thrown into my chest over and over again.

My job was to simply listen and hug and listen some more.

I was glad to be among my community, and even though I could feel the pain and sadness it was still nice to be able to be there for people and with people.

A comfort of sorts for my bruised heart.

It has been quite a whirlwind of stress these last couple of months!

Fire and rains and mudslides.

I do feel like as the little sprouts of green start to appear on the hillsides across the street, that things are beginning again, regardless if we are all ready. 

I am thankful for that reminder from Mother Nature, as bittersweet as it is.

I remember when my bruises and puncture wounds began to heal on my body; I was sad that there were no longer external signs of the suffering from infertility. 

Instead it was reminding me to be thankful that my body is still powerful and capable of healing.

 In the same way, our hillsides are starting that same process, of healing themselves again. 

That is to be applauded and admired.

Cycles

The proceeds from this t-shirt help provide menstrual hygiene kits to people experiencing homelessness

I only get my period four times a year now.

It is part of the agreed plan to control my endometriosis, fibroids and cysts. 

It has been working well, and retarding growth on the current fibroids and any creation of new ones.

It has also allowed me to keep my uterus instead of having the suggested hysterectomy.

At first I thought it was like being neutered; taking away something so sacred as a monthly cycle.  The monthly pain left me unable to stand upright, or eat or sleep, so the idea became a welcome retreat from pain and in many ways a space to grieve my lost fertility.

I had to walk away from my efforts twice in 8 years of trying to make a family. 

When I first went off the monthly pill to dive into the pool of trying, I was almost immediately faced with a wall of pain and only after half a year was I able to advocate for further testing which first revealed my fibroids and the sudden growth had me at an oncologist. 

Back on the pill to shrink them and try to give me a window to try to get pregnant again.

The second dive into the pool had me in the ER and multiple trips to the doctor to find answers to the miscarriages. Suddenly 8 years passed and it was too much loss and too much pain to live.

I went back onto the pill after my removal of a large chocolate cyst, and an ovarian cancer scare;

that confirmed my stage 4 endo that had head-locked my ovary behind my uterus, a septum in my uterus and calcified fibroids.

The road was shut.

I grieved and celebrated this information at the same time.

I did nothing wrong in my efforts to get pregnant, but my body that I had lovingly cared, for had decided that no child shall survive in me.

Now 5 years later, I am facing a new kind of knowledge.

My periods which only come quarterly,  will eventually stop coming all together.

I am prepared to grieve that as well.

a bitter sweet party

I have my period now, I have always been a full moon bleeder.

I guess I am a druid that way, an earthy girl, a wolf woman.

I can now not have to decide if the pain is bad enough to need to go to the ER, 

instead I can sit on the couch or sleep away the mood and aches.

Still honoring the need to take care of this body.

My period arrived later than normal this cycle, and for the first time in a LONG time, 

my mind did not go to the "maybe I'm pregnant" thought...

in fact it never even entered my mind.

Instead I thought, soon there will be no more.

I was that girl

"A 23-year-old American college student who was killed in the Paris attacks was described as a “gifted student” by her teachers and beloved by her friends.

Nohemi Gonzalez was killed Friday night at the bistro La Belle Equipe in Paris. She was spending time with friends when a gunman opened fire on the scene and fatally wounded her."

When I heard about the attacks in Paris I froze, I literally could not process anything at all.
                                                                         *******

Many years ago, when I was in my early 20's I was a student studying in Paris, living out my dream of being an artist in the epicenter of my creative forefathers and foremothers. Eating bread and canned peas. Going to the museum everyday, drawing and dreaming and learning who I was and what I wanted from life and for myself. Kissing boys and crying and laughing. 

I was that girl who went to a concert in Paris, and got caught in a mosh pit and thrown to the ground, tossed from the chaos yet, alive fwith fear and desire for excitement. 

I was that girl who ate in a cafe and ordered an omelette in her best version of French.

I was that girl who smelt the night air and felt the magic of the city

I was that girl

And I am that very same girl, shaken to my very core when I heard what happened.

I cried a lot and wondered if that magic had been taken away

I felt as though something had blown up my memories of the sweet, 

nostalgia of the city of light

Someone had taken a dreamer away, pulled her from this earth before she could finish her dreams

I felt

I could imagine

I mourned a stranger

I mourned all the dreamers and strangers who were simply

living that night. Living and dreaming and hoping for more wonderful.

I am those girls

I am those boys

I am those children

Today, tomorrow and many years ago

Today is the 11th of September

it is a big number here in the states.

It leaves me a little unsettled.

I was working at a company that distributed maps when the actual events unfolded 

and for the next year and a half my life was totally changed.

First we got calls from the military 

asking what we were selling and who could buy it.

Then we got calls from the news agencies from all over the world.

Then calls from military families often crying on the phone line asking, 

where these countries

 were that their loved ones were going to.

There were times when we had to call the FBI 

as some calls were requesting very specific kinds of details on maps.

Those were hard and scary.

I know it was best that I walked away from that job when I did.

I was scattered and emotionally spent.

Then in 2006, on this same day
before sunrise, 

and with heavy labored inhales I watched the final breath

 of my beloved grandmother.

She was in her bed, surrounded by family, completely on her own terms.

I had visited and spoken to her two days before.

We just told each other over and over that we loved each other.

It is a beautiful memory above the heartbreak.

This morning, before the sun rose

I got up and shimmed myself into my yoga clothes.

I drove into town for class and watched the sun rise as I 

took deep purposeful breaths with her in my heart.

She died from her lungs filling up...so every time I think of her last moments 

I try and send full complete breathe to her.

I always imagine that would have been the most compassionate thing to give.

A deep breath.

Tomorrow is my nephews birthday, he was born a year later

Life goes on

and on

Side Swiped

So it appears to be baby shower season...at least that is what it feels like.

When I got word of the first one, 

I put on my big girl pants, superhero cape and lasso of power 

and quickly said: 

" I can't go"

It felt powerful and right!

I was quite proud of myself.

What was ever cooler was that my SIL 

(who was throwing the party for her sister)

looked at me and said, OK 

and left it at that.

I was super happy that there was no drama

I made time one day and made the baby shower gifts, 

and packed them up way ahead of the event and laid that to rest.

The second shower invite is coming soon, 

I am not going to that one either.

The baby gifts are made and packed away too.

I have told The Barren so that he is well aware that I will be somewhere else,

doing something else.

Hopefully the mother to be will be distracted by her dozens of guests and not 

fixate on me not attending

(like I am that important)

The two mothers to be are very different, 

one got pregnant quickly and with no assistance

the other one, My SIL's sister, spent years trying and 

eventually got pregnant and was on bed rest the whole pregnancy.

When my SIL told me she was pregnant I was so happy fro her, when she said her sister was suffering from morning sickness I said that is great...I was happy for her, she was finally pregnant!

Her shower was to be tomorrow, she was driving my SIL crazy with her vision

of how everything should be. 

(on a side-note, I spoke with my mother and said that I TOTALLY understood this side of the coin. She has sacrificed her body, her finances, her relationship... everything to become a mother

...and now that she is one, she wants everything to be as she imagined it to be. It is her vision of the dream...she is wanting to be the pretty princess from the fairy tale, the happily ever after)

BUT... her water broke today and she is currently in labor.

Shower canceled.

I am finding that thinking about her becoming a mother has side swiped me with a lot of emotions

I thought I was past...or OK with but,

I was crying earlier...hearing in my head

That was suppose to be you

You will never be that woman in labor

you failed

I know that these are The Barreness creeping in with her spells and intoxicating words

I know that some of those things might be true,

but

I did not fail

The idea of this woman becoming a mother is bittersweet.

In my sorrow I texted her other sister, 

who is also infertile from secondary infertility

Just telling her that I was thinking of her, 

as I am sure today is a mixed bag of emotions for her as well

She thanked me for understanding the pain and emotion of the day.

Meanwhile,

The other mother to be is a rockstar, still doing crossfit at 7+month pregnant

feeling great and happy and dealing with everything like well, it is no big deal

She makes it look so easy

aside from her mentioning in conversations that well " because I am pregnant..."

I can even hang out with her and not want to punch myself in the face.

but today...today it might be harder

I know it will pass

and that a good sweat in class will clear this all out of my pores,

but today, today I just want to be 

free enough to feel my independence from these feelings again

Self Preservation

** warning, melancholy posting **

some of the 15 nuns that packed the local frozen-yogurt shop

I went and had my annual ultrasounds and mammogram. 

I have had mammos since I was 34, as I found a lump then (it was nothing)

 and have just never stopped getting annual ones.

I look at it as a mark of pride, I am taking care of myself.

This year was different, as I requested an ultrasound of my breasts as well. The read from last year said that my dense breast tissue was hard to read and an ultrasound was recommended for a better view.

I booked my pelvic ultrasound that same day...I spent two hours having wands in my vagina, having my breasts compressed and then pressed and pushed on with copious amounts of warmed jelly.

While this was happening, a friend from high school passed away after a 5 year fight with breast cancer.

I am still shaken by her death, I saw her just before my surgery almost two years ago. She brought her daughters to a shared art studio so I could explain an art-making process to them. 

She was vibrant, her daughters glowed from all the love she showered on them. I followed and spoke to her via social media and then, she was not commenting on things. I started thinking about her more and more and then the messages started to appear on her page, and I asked if something had happened. Her mother posted that she was in hospice care and that it would not be long, as she was ready to go.

She passed two days later.

I was not close with her in high school, and I lost all contact with her afterwards..and something made us find each other many years later, maybe a reunion or something silly.

Our high school was a small one and in many ways everyone pretty much knew everyone.

The loss of a classmate, even one you are not close with seems big and close.

The memorial is at the end of this month, and although it is an open invite to all who knew her, 

I feel it is too intimate and I am choosing to not attend.

Instead I am making a donation to a charity she held dear.

Call it self preservation, I can not bear another heartbreak right now. 

I am grieving in many ways for her, she is the fourth woman I know in this last year to have breast cancer. 

It is a lot to witness.

clearly nothing like having to live with, but right now witnessing it is almost too much.

I feel conflicted about my decision, but guilt should not be a motivator to attend a memorial.

I have been reflecting a lot about what is important to me; 

this latest loss has only highlighted again who and what is important in my life.

I spent last weekend with my bestest-bossum-buddy.

She was in town visiting family and to my surprise she worked a WHOLE day away from her people 

and we just spent it talking, uninterrupted and openly and unabridged.

It was a treat for us both and when I came home I found myself in deep withdrawal.

I get to see her again in a month and a half or so...

we live many hours away from one another

All of this made me reflect, deeply and clearly into myself.

it has me feeling raw and open and melancholy as well...but,

I started to think of the superhero, the one I am making of myself.

If I remember correctly, most comic book heroes have:

 extreme heartbreak (check)

isolation (check)

determination to change themselves (check)

a bumpy road of learning (check)

revelations in unexpected places (check)

I guess I am on the right course.

plus my pants finally arrived:

Autumn reflections

It is October... already!

I received a note on my social media page that was sending well wishes to me,

as October is pregnancy loss month.

It was a loving gesture that was totally unexpected

and in all frankness shook me a little first thing in the morning.

 

This is indeed the month when we had the first of our miscarriages.

I will carry that with me forever; I just wasn't expecting someone else to remember it too.

As I was in class this morning, I started to reflect on where I am now, at present, in my life.

 

I think that I am another step back, further from the center of it all. 

I started reading where I was a few years ago and how saturated in sorrow I lived, daily, alone.

Now I seem to be grieving for that person, the person so lost in sorrow it is hard to breathe.

The girl lost in daydreams of a baby.

 I feel so deeply for her,

and want to make her feel better.

Then I remember that I am her/that was me. 

Is that growth, recovery, coming to terms?

I am not sure

I am not living there anymore, I am simply living.
For real; my eyes are open, I am present.
I think that as this year since surgery arrives I realize that I have been freed from guilt.
I was left feeling this was never my doing, I hadn't left a stone unexplored.
So I was allowed to walk again.
Now it is me against a disease; not me against will or desire or drive.
That places a lot of power back into my hands.
So is it growth, or recovery or coming to terms I am still not sure but I am exploring it all.
As I see that girl who was, I embrace her and whisper in her ear...
you did not do this to yourself.
this was never your fault
you were never meant to carry that weight
 

Doing it...

Making sex fun again...yeah it is work!

Inspired by Stirrups Queens post today I thought I would chime in.

I have to work to have sex.
Not because I have an unwilling partner, but I have found that the pill is a serious libido killer.
Anyone else find that?

I felt strangely empowered when I was facing the loss of my ovary, and wanted to have sex a lot!
Then after surgery, I sort of coiled into myself.
Which is understandable...but I kept asking my doctor when is it safe to have sex again.
She seemed puzzled by my eagerness to want to jump right back into the game, but I stressed to her pre/post surgery that my sexual health was very important to me and I was concerned about it.

Now, as I create my new future, I am faced with a new challenge.
I have to really focus and put into the agenda of the week,
have sex with my love.

When I was little my parents were very open with how babies were made, and when I got older how to respect myself and others. I was a good girl with a serious sexually flirtatious streak.
I came of age at a time when sex was scary, AIDS was killing people left and right and I remember telling my high school boyfriend: "if we ever have sex, we are using condoms, spermicide, dental dams and I will also be on the pill" poor thing; he was a wonderful bashful puppy and agreed to whatever would make me comfortable.
College I was sexual, and content and had great partners who were interested in making me happy.
I enjoyed that A LOT
The Barren and I met then and we have been "doing it" a lot since then.
We have weathered a lot of issues, growing up together tends to introduce growing pains and we have had them. He is still an eager college boy in the sheets, ready at the drop of a hat.
 I on the other hand, find as of late, that I am simply trying to keep up or in the same room as him.
He being the sweet wonderful man he is, has thought up some libido experiments:
encouraging me to try and think about sex more,
act out, be crass
daydream, think up fantasies...go hog wild
 as an experiment.

We are both wanting my libido to fire up, re-wire the mechanics of the synthetic hormones that are surging thru my body, killing or whipping my endo into submission.
I mean I got a little peek at what my sex drive could be in my early 40's before I went back on the pill and it was AWESOME.
Now I am due to be on the pill again until menopause, I am stunted sexually
and have to really swim upstream to get my rocks off.
It sucks!
Sex after infertility is WORK; first disconnecting the baby making mindset and then trying to recapture your self identity, and finally summoning your inner sex goddess!



Fork in the road

image via etsy

 

I am finding that I am slowly remembering a long list of things that will never be.

Like I am in a way saying another goodbye to them.

I am working hard at not being bitter as that is one of my fears.

to create a bitter leftover version of myself

 

I think this latest cycle has been a reminder that I will not carry a child.

Like all the words and years are rushing up on me.

My period use to be a couple days: no biggie, no major shift in my life.

Then I tried to get pregnant and they became these HUGE productions; painful and pointed.

Then 6months ago the surgery, and now they are strange performance art pieces; I never really know what is going on, and what to expect next.

I am still bleeding, even though I have been back on the pill for three days.

I am really along for the ride.

When I was expressing this disappointment to The Barren the the other night,

 telling him I was done bleeding, I wanted to get on with my next 90days,

I had a wave of sympathy for my uterus.

Maybe it is not done doing it's thing, I mean clearly it is...but maybe it is mourning too?!

I said aloud to him, " I know one day sooner then I want it, I will not be bleeding anymore and then I will be sad about that too"

He giggled and said he understood what I meant.

 

I am realizing that I am turning the corner and beyond child-making.

It really isn't gonna magically happen.

 

This made me reflect on all the "positive affirmations" that I have been repeating year after year.

What happens emotionally when you are not gonna get what you wanted.

Not like a toy, or jewelery or cars or houses, or jobs....but a vision of family.

I wonder what those

 feel good, be nice to yourself, believe in miracles, expect the impossibles?

I still collect them, I read them, I try really hard to believe them, wanting to live the words.

I try to not be cynical when I read about others starting their IF journey, knowing that my story doesn't have to be everyones outcome.

What do I do now? How do I start re-building my self identity I mean time is ticking away.

Life is short and have I already spent too much of it hoping against hope?

Waiting and crying and wondering what I could do to make something that would never be happen.

 

My SIL is 6months pregnant with their third child, and as she posts belly growing pics online, and fetus updates, and updates us all on her cravings and aches and pains...

I wonder what does it feel like?

Something so natural, became so unnatural for us...the hippie kids couldn't make a baby?

The teenager could, the IV drug user could, the fighting couple could.

 

I feel that strange sense of numb again, the numb I felt (or didn't feel) when I was slipping into depression, but I am not terribly sad this time. I am not terribly happy either.

I am present, here and now.

Wondering

seeking a new path

a new identity

Not wanting to re-invent myself...but wondering who I really am.

The Phonecall

I miss these phones,
you could slam them against things and make dents

 

I was reaching out to a couple people I know in an effort to help a fellow friend make a couple connections for possible job opportunities.

It is WAY out of my nature to ask or refer to myself as a bridge for someone to get something.

I guess I don't feel like I hold that level of importance or something.

you know like, I know someone, and they work at this place and a third person I know wants to work at said place and so I introduce them so they can chat or make that connection.

I just wanted to do whatever I could to help this awesome friend, so I got over it for the morning.

 

Well, one of the calls back, with a more then happy to help person, came from someone I have only really casually spoken to over the years. She is CRAZY smart, you know, speaks 5 languages fluently and has 245thousand extra letters after her name from degrees she has collected over time.

She is about to be 35yrs old, and is very involved in her career.

She got married a couple of years ago to a friend of The Barren.

 

When we were chatting about the easiest and best way to get my friend and her to contact one another she got kind of quiet.

I asked if she had more travel plans in line for the year.

She said those heartbreaking words

" I don't know if this is the right time to say this but...."

She then told me that she threw out her BCP when she got engaged and after three years found out that she has PCOS.

I was bathed in a calm, a heartbreaking calm

 

I told her I was so sorry, and how heartbreaking it is.

She then began to talk about everything; and I began to listen with a heavy heart.

She told me how people are relentlessly asking her when she is going to start a family and that it kills her a little each time.

"it is in gods hands" is her normal response,

she said for her it gets them to stop asking and that it conveys that she is wanting children and is not a child hater or shunning the idea/hope.

(seriously, isn't it amazing that people jump to the idea that we don't like kids because we don't have them....ughhhhh)

She mentioned how she feels like she is letting her family down, her brother is gay and she is the families only hope for grandchildren and that she is letting them down.

I said the words that I work to believe everyday:

" This is not your fault, you didn't do this"

I then tried to assure her that she would find the right choices for herself.

I told her that she and her hubby would find their path, and that maybe she could mention it to her family too, that she was struggling...and needed some extra love and compassion.

She mentioned that her husband said to her

"that if she took better care of herself this wouldn't have happened."

He told her "you should call The Barreness and The Barren, they know about what you are going through"

(notice the lack of engagement from hubby, it is all her, not him)

I felt like my friends did, wanting to find a cast iron pan and lop him upside his head.

instead...

I repeated the mantra:

This is not your fault, you did not do this

I told her that it was important to remember it when things got dark

 

She said she was offered a job out of the US and was considering it. She said she needed to find a new path, a new purpose, a new reason for being who she was.

It broke my heart a little more

but I completely understood.

I mentioned that this process is a lifelong one, some days are good and some are bad.

I gave her an exercise my therapist gave me and she said she would try it.

When the call was over she thanked me and I told her I believed in her and her choices that were right for her, she needed to make those paramount.

 

After hanging up the phone, The Barren who overheard the whole call said:

" are you OK, that was a lot for you"

I said: " We are the infertility hotline, we can answer all questions.

Our phones are open 24/7"

 

I got up, pulled two sticks of butter out of the fridge and made cookies.

It was a lot



Bumpy, frumpy

I think I have hit a bump...I am feeling a little blue.

Like something is missing or I have forgotten something.

I have chosen to not wash my hair daily...my body yes, but not my hair...which means

I get to create new and exciting hairstyles to hide the shiny look.

Why? because I just don't seem to have it in me.

*sigh*

 

I went to my women's business meeting last week, only to find that only one other woman could make it. What is normally a night of professional conversations about work and goals and business objectives; ended up being an hour and a half of me listening to this dear woman, spill her heart out all over the table and onto the floor.

She is no longer happy with her long term relationship, she maybe wants to have a baby, she turns 30 this year. She told me about her childhood, the death of her parents, the journey to where she is now. The journey she hopes to take to find an old flame and see if there is something still there.

She wants to change the course of things...and amongst these gems, she also told where to find and how to ask for the town gigolo's services.

A fountain of information! I came home with half the salad I had ordered and exhausted!
When The Barren asked how the night was, I just said, I am still processing it.
It was intense, but a wonderful reminder that no matter how together someone looks, we are all dealing with demons and decisions and heartbreak daily.
 

In an effort to and shake up my blues,

I went to the farmers market, something I use to do religiously and got great joy from. I know exactly when to go so the place is not filled with strollers or toddlers with fruit juice running down their arms grabbing for any hand that looks like mom or dad's.
I talk with the farmers, I buy fresh local food...I smell the greens and sometimes get a new plant for the patio. I hadn't been in a LONG time and it was sweet that the farmers still recognized me and asked where I had been. I took far too much cash, as I spent it all !
Not bad on a scale of bad things...but still no control and maybe a little compensation for sadness.

Once home I upended my studio AGAIN and have now made great strides in organizing it, I tore up piles of images that were bad (not a critique of the work, but literally, had ink smudges on them or bad printing or some other technical problem that makes them un-showable or sellable)
It was liberating and freed up some much needed space!
But I am still procrastinating and finding time ticking faster and faster.

I need to make new work...I am stuck and distracted.

 I also know that a little someone is laughing at me, knowing that something is around the corner....

I have my first cycle since the surgery next week and I don't know what to expect.

 The unexpected looms large...Fear and Pain are sitting and waiting for their name to be called.

 

Also almost like a trinity, this week is also the birthday of my goddaughter.

She was born two days before Valentines day, and after I spent 26hours at the hospital with her mother watching her come into the world, while hiding my INCREDIBLE period pain from all there...pain that got me into the ER days later and sedated into a pain free state. Only to realize that my ovary was about to explode. Her mother and I had been trying to get pregnant at the same time...except she was and I wasn't, again.
Sadly this beautiful child's birth reminds me of all that too!

*sigh*

I have to figure out how to get my feet free and tap dancing these bumps away.

Today is the Day

 

Who knows what she will see when she opens me up

Who knows what she will take and keep

I am balancing on a high cliff, just holding the hands of my friends and family



Come and Gone

photo via: cc-lovesblog.blogspot

 

 

It passed, almost silently.

No fanfare, no candles, no tears.

Yesterday marked the anniversary of the first of our three losses.

 

I felt it, but quieter this year.

Maybe it is the upcoming surgery that has garnered all my energy

I have been meditating, and focusing on talking about it, to dissipate my fears.

But yesterday, while driving home from work and the car was quiet

I turned to The Barren and said " today is our anniversary"

He looked at me and said there are many anniversaries around now.

 

Our cousin has just passed this last weekend, after fighting multiple years

with a rare form of lung cancer.

She never smoked or lived in a house with smokers.

I was 5 years older than me.

 

The Barren didn't have to have a second biopsy for his skin cancer.

Instead they removed another layer of skin and bandaged him up.

Celebration ensued, after we left the office

I kissed him many times over again and again.

We have a 6 month check to monitor its healing.

 

I visited my grandparents.

They are in a cemetery about an hour and a half away.

I don't usually visit the grave, as I really don't think they are there.

or I hope they are not stuck there.

I knocked on the stone that covers them (like knocking on a door, my dad does that)

and then placed a stone on the marker.

I sat down in front of it and settled in and said "hello".

At that, the stone "fell" off and I said, well hello there.

I texted my brother and said:

 if you want to tell gma and gpa anything,

now would be a good time as I think they are here right now.

The visit was quiet and mostly me crying and asking questions to the warm wind.

 

Today is Halloween, the house is not decorated,

 my Dia De Los Muertos altar is not built

 I normally do these things with great joy and lightness.

but I seem to be falling behind, my mind easily distracted.

I am trying to be gentle with myself, let it all happen organically, and naturally.

but, I feel sad that I am not together, on top of it or motivated.

Time passes too quickly

I hope to work on the altar tonight



Pounding Heart



image via Vintage Printable

The weekend was filled with panic attacks and believe it or not a pregnancy test as AF was super late, from all the stress it turns out.

 

So The Barren and I went to see Special Lady Doctor yesterday.

I took my LONG list of questions and my 2 inch thick binder of years of results and scans.
 I thought I was having a heart attack at least three times on the drive there.

We got to the appointment a half hour early and waited in silence...The Barren held my hand and commented how he could feel my heart beat in it. I thought it was visible to all at this point.

The half hour wait helped settle it a bit, while I watched HGTV on the lobby TV.
The couple that was having their house redone was an infertile couple that had stopped the renovations when they realized their family was not going to grow as they had thought.
The Barren looked at me and we just said "seriously, this is what we were in time for?!"
 

They called my name and we walked into the exam room...my heart exploding again.
Thank goodness they didn't take my pulse, as they probably would have called the crash cart out!
We waited in the room for another 20 minutes.
In that time The Barren looked at the stirrups and questioned if they were comfortable. I told him that it was nice that they had covers on them, so they were not cold.
I assured him that I was not going to have an exam.
He was sitting in a tiny recess in the room that served as an in-room changing area.
They had stocked it with cloth gowns, padded hangers and basket full of pads and tampons.
I watched his eyes go back to the basket over and over...I asked him what he was most fascinated by, he said the names of the products seemed strange and spelt weird.
It made me chuckle and recall how these companies tend to find the most obnoxious colors for their packaging. How as a younger version of myself was always mortified to stand in a line with a bright pink package or a bright blue box, or in the really early days a pack of maxi pads that would now double for a bag of diapers!

He then picked up a magazine and happened on an article about Naomi Wolf and her Vaginia book 

it mentions vaginal massage and yoni tapping and he looked at me and said in my next life I want to be a master vaginal massage therapist.
 At this we both laughed and I was left feeling intense and serene love for this man.
 

The doctor came in and I asked her to go over the results again as the phone call was a hard way to process it all. She saw my list of questions and was happy that I had written them all down. She spent a good chunk of time answering all my questions, telling me what her concerns were and why and laying out a plan. The Barren asked all his questions and addressed his concerns and we in the end decided that it was best to have this surgery.

 

The lowdown:

I have a mildly elevated CA125, it is 29 (nothing going on is 3, full blown cancer is 100) with this number and a history of endo, she is concerned. She explained how she will try to save my ovary but must also assess the risks of it and she understands my desire to keep as much of me as possible. She also will be removing as much endo as she sees, explaining that it too can become additional endometriomas and we want to avoid that from happening. I will be back on the BCP post surgery.

She told me that my barnacle is the size of a lime, it has grown since it was measured last.

 

November 16th is the day

the day after tomorrow my beloved is having his second biopsy for his skin cancer...and all my energy is focusing on him and his health.
I love him so deeply.

On the drive home The Barren mentioned that he felt defensive at the end of the appointment as the doctor mentioned all the options while under:
she could put a camera in my uterus and see what is happening in there
She could tie my tubes
She could also remove my septum, which would probably
 "fix my infertility and my history of miscarriages"
it was this comment that made him sad, as it reminded him of how long this journey has been and how we chose not to have surgery to get pregnant. He said it felt like a slap after the fact.
I understand what he is saying...we might never feel comfortable with our choices.
I had a teacher in high school who wasn't able to have kids because of the RH factor, by the time they had it all figured out it was too late for them to have kids.
Although the situation is different, I feel similarly.
We are 9 years older, tackling the personal and emotional challenges of a life without children.
When a simple sentence like "this could fix all your problems" is said the whole house of carefully laid cards falls and we have to slowly start building it again.
My heart is pounding, my heart is aching

The Barreness is laughing

Doing things different...

 

I am having a REALLY hard time focusing on much of anything right now.

I tried to work in the studio all weekend, but ended up looking like a crazy lady starting something here and walking away to stare at the sky and then come back and focus for another ten minutes and then decide to do laundry or wash dishes.

I know my brain is overwhelmed.

 

BUT

 I know that all those years of therapy have done something, as I realized that the first time I fucked stuff up and that it is not how I want to do it things time.

 

I am doing things different then when we got our Infertility diagnosis.

Then we told no one for a long time. We suffered together and pushed many friends away not knowing how to ask for help or support.

 

This new struggle we are facing things differently.

The Barren and I seem to be tag teaming out emotional breaks, so that we can be there for the other. He has shared his recent news with friends and parents.

I have shared my news with just a couple close friends, but I am so glad that I have

...I am too unprepared to share it yet with my parents.

and scared

 

It feels different to have told these selected few, better I guess.

I know that I can text a grumpy face to a friend and they will totally get it.

 

I am still having panic attacks, mostly at night when things are quiet and

I am alone with my thoughts.

The Barren and I are a good team, we have walked through hell before,

and still have legs.

I know we can walk through hell again and still have each others hand to hold.

 

It doesn't feel good to have this sitting over our heads

I don't have to like any of this or be OK with it

I am afraid for my love

I am afraid for myself

I am still very afraid.

Deeply Felt

When I saw this photo in the news this morning, my heart sank.

 

 

"Zoo officials said in a press release that the cub was found dead Sunday morning after panda keepers heard sounds of distress from its mother, Mei Xiang."
*Mei Xiang, the cub's mother, appears to still have a maternal instinct. "Sadly, we have witnessed her cradling an object for most of the night," Zoo Director Dennis Kelly said. "

 

I felt it so deeply, this loss for me is universally felt.

I don't see a defining line between animal and people, we are all sensitive beings.

My thoughts and prayers go out to this grieving mother.

Information Gathering

Today I went to an appointment that I have been working on not thinking about for weeks.

I did pretty well until Friday when the paperwork arrived in the mail.

 

I had a consult with a specialist about my cyst (Quasimodo) the one that has been camped out for years and refuses to change or go away. My doc, as a precautionary measure wanted me to get a second opinion that my " hell no you can not go for a scenic drive around my pelvis and pluck whatever you damn well please" watch and wait method was still safe. I understood and quite frankly with all the health issues with family and friends as of late, I needed to step up to the plate.

It was a 6 week wait to see this doctor, and after my visit I see why.

 

I awoke early and as I sat in bed trying to figure out what time it was The Barren said so what are you going to say? I said I was going to ask if I was in mortal danger with my current modus operandi. He said " she is going to tell you, you need surgery...what will you say then? " Sweet man, playing devils advocate so I could prepare my speech. I told him that I would say " that is not an option for me, what is plan B, C,D, E or F?" He kissed me and said " good luck"

 

I arrived with my folder of past test results from 2004 to current and sat and waited. The office filled with mid-pregnant women and the door between the reception desk and back exam rooms was constantly swinging open as that same group of women were in a parade circle to the bathroom.

 

Free samples for the pregnant gals, sadly no drinks were offered to the rest of us.
Is there a suggestion card around....

 

I was called in and I could feel my heart beating so fast, and hard, I was terrified that I would not have the conviction in my voice to speak up in the face of this newest doctor. I was told on the phone that it didn't matter where I was in cycle that as it was only a consult, I was not going to be examined. Well she was wrong, large paper napkin in place, I did the modesty wiggle to unfold that paper as far as possible and then wrap the ends around my hips so my arse was not blowing in the wind...cross my legs up under me and resume some sense of dignity while I sat and waited some more.

 

I heard my chart removed from the outside of the door and she sat with it for a fair bit of time, in fact I was taken aback how long she read it....then she entered the room.

We said hellos and then I told her why I was there...careful around the word " get another set of eyes on it" as I was not opening the sightseeing tour just yet. She asked how my quality of life was, daily. Asked what my periods were like, then she asked another question:

 

Doctor Lady: " so you have stopped trying"

 

I sat there thinking about Nicole's post, feeling like my heart suddenly got a lot heavier

and in my next breath I said:

 

The Barreness: " it just didn't happen for us the way we wanted." 

 

Doctor Lady: " so you have come to terms with that "

 

I took a deep breath, and said

 

" as much as I can, it is something I work with everyday"

 

Doctor Lady: " What I mean is, you are not here to ask me to help you try and get pregnant"

 

The Barreness: " No, it can not happen the way we had hoped. I am here to make sure that my quality of life is maintained and that I am not putting myself at jeopardy"

 

Doctor Lady: "That is very brave of you, that is something very hard....do you have someone to talk with about it?  like a therapist or friends...you should not try to handle it alone"

 

The Barreness: " that is the most compassionate thing any doctor has said to me about my infertility, thank you. That was very kind of you"

 

Lady Doctor: " I am really sorry to hear that, really, that is sad"

 

She mentioned what she thinks I have is an Endometrioma and that it can be removed, if I ever want it to be...but if I am comfortable and only in hell a few days a month, and I am OK with that we can forget it. She then mentioned my lovely heart shaped uterus and mentioned that that is the most likely culprit for my losses. She mentioned that that could be removed too.
I told her I understood but now that I am over 40, I have changed paths...realizing that those were options (that were never mentioned to me by the way) for me at 34 when I started trying to stay pregnant. Reality is my eggs are older, and most likely pissed off at me and so I didn't need to invite Pandora into my life. I have had enough heartbreak and pain and loss.

She said she understood.

Scary shit you can be tested for...

 

In an effort to remove yet another scary option off my checklist, I gave a vial of blood for CA125,

she said that endometriosis can show it as an elevated number but she felt confident that she could tell the difference between endo and a cancer. So I did that too...not thinking about that either.

 

She gave me a feel, furrowed her brow while I tried to relax and told her I would add her to my list of people who have felt my uterus.

She ordered I get new ultrasounds, one as soon as my next period is over and then a followup 6 weeks later. it was important to start the plotting of the cyst and make sure it was not changing at all. My every four months was not close enough together...ugh

So I have those transvag days to look forward too into the holiday season....HOHOHO

 

Today is also the anniversary of my Nana's death. She left 6 years ago.

I mention this because what I did next is directly related.

When I was in the middle of finding all this sadness out, and being a medical guinea pig

I had to tell my Nana that I could not have kids.

She was not an emotional woman, in the sense that she didn't cry or hug.

Not a babushka kinda grandmother.

My Nana, liked men, drinks and sex.

But...

When I told her, she looked heartbroken and so concerned...

it made it almost unbearable.

She reached out and simply hugged me.

It was the best gift from her, knowing she loved me so completely.

About a week later, she sent me a card, in it was some cash.

The card said:

" Go get yourself something pretty, it will help you"

Classic 50's gal, pretty yourself up on the outside and it will start helping the inside

So today, after the appointment, I bought myself a couple new blouses.

I even got one for a friend that I know needs a little pick me up too.

thanks Nana