She finally showed up. After months and months of anticipation. She finally came. Of course she showed up on the day Mr. Clinger and I were leaving for Christmas vacation...but at least she came. It has been 229 days since she has come for a visit. Most people Trying To Conceive HATE it when she shows up...but me...at least this time...I was almost brought to tears with happiness.
...I know...I'm a kook :-)
So...my last blog I said that I wanted to talk about friendships and TTC. Boy is it complicated. This entire situation has really made me realize who my REAL friends are. I have gained some friends (many of them on my MSN board) and I have lost some friends. In fact just recently, I lost the woman I thought was my best friend. I suppose in the long run it is for the better, but it hurts the same. It hurts me the most to know that someone that I cared about so deeply could hurt me so bad.
I guess only the ones we care about are able to hurt us. It has been such a long time since I have felt a pain like this. I stood by this woman through so many things, divorce, pregnancy, new relationships, I was there for her when all of her friends abandoned her, I guess no good deed goes unpunished.
On one hand I feel empty and alone, I never knew how she really felt about my infertility. At the same time I am saddened and full of anger.
Mr. Clinger understands, he lost a friend because of this too. Guys are different though I think. I don't think they take things as personally. It still hurts just the same.
I just wish that people would take a step back and think about how we must be feeling. There is a very good chance that Mr. Clinger will never be able to put his hands over my swelling belly in hopes of feeling our child kick back. I might never be able to suprise him at the door with a positive home pregnancy test. I may never be able to wake him in the middle of the night and tell him that "It's time" I might never be able to see the look on Mr. Clingers face the first time he sees his child. I might never be able to take our child shopping to get "Daddy" something for Father's Day, birthday, Christmas. I might never be able to hear the words "I love you mommy" coming from my child's mouth.
I have wanted to be a mommy since I was like 4 years old. I would always play dolls, I would even stuff my shirt with towels so that I looked pregnant. When my nieces and nephews were born, I would pack them around on my hip all day long, feed them, change them, put them down for naps. They were my life. I wanted to be around them all of the time. In high school I took a child development class and one of our assignmetns was to wear an empathy belly (the bellies that make you look and feel 8 months pg) I didn't want to take it off. I could have worn it 24/7 if my teacher would have let me.
Being a mom has always been my "calling" so now that I am married, old enough, mature enough, financially stable, ready and willing...I am told that it might never happen. And this is supposed to have no effect on me whatsoever. It is not supposed to hurt when my friends are "accidentally" getting pg. When my friends are getting pg and they are not even married? It is not supposed to hurt when my friend gets pg and I had been trying for almost a year when she got pg and she was NOT EVEN TRYING????
No one knows how it feels to have the dream of parenthood shit on unless you have been there. You don't know what it is like to break down in the middle of the store because you saw a pregnant 16 year old. Or you saw a mother driving down the road with a small child that is not in a car seat. Or you saw a pg woman smoking/drinking or doing drugs while pg. You don't know what it is like to turn on the news and hear of a mother who killed her baby by putting it in the microwave!! These women are allowed to have children, but I can't (at least not yet) YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW THAT CUTS TO THE CORE...
So I say this to the people that call themselves my friends but make me feel guilty for showing my pain...F.U. you have no right to judge me until you know my pain. And I sincerely hope none of you have to know my pain. But...if you do...at least you know that I will be there and I will not judge your feelings, your reactions or your breakdowns.
And I say this to those of you who call me your friend that have been there with open ears and soft shoulders GOD BLESS YOU! Thank you for being supportive even though you may not know what to say...thank you for just being there and not making me feel guilty, unworthy, or damaged. I LOVE YOU ALL FOR THAT!
I thought that as we got older...friendships were supposed to be easier. Maybe in my 40's they will be Huh???
We'll see
Friday, December 29, 2006
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Alot can happen in a month
OK, so it has been a month since I have blogged. I am not sure exactly why. I had updates I could have included, I had stuff to say, I THOUGHT about blogging, but I didn't. So...today is the day I suppose. I will catch you up on events.
I had an HSG this month which is where they detect if your fallopian tubes are blocked or not. In order to do this, they have to pry you wide open (down there) stick a needle looking thing into the cervix and shoot you full of this blue dye. Then you lie there for a minute, make sure the blue dye flows through both fallopian tubes with ease and then you are done.
Well...the blue dye conquered my tubes like the North conquered the South. No blockages in these babies! That is great news.
So...Good sperm, good tubes, good uterus..just NO EGGS!!!! Well, I am sure I have eggs...I ASSUME I have eggs anyway, they just don't like to crawl their lazy asses out of my ovary. Oh...I am sure it is nice and comfy in there, warm, plenty of food and drinks, good music but HONESTLY... you all can't stay in there FOREVER. Sooner or later at least one of you have to come out...and when you do....your gonna get it!
So after the HSG I got to get stabbed with a needle (by the way...since this whole infertility thing, I have completely conquered my fear of needles. Now I almost get some sick enjoyment out of it!) to check my progesterone count (once again) and then...here comes the fun part, but first, let me give you some background info to set the mood.
My old endocronologist was sure I had PolyCystic Ovarian Syndrome.
I wasn't.
I mean, ok, I have some of the symptoms, but you would think that (given the name) I would have cysts on my ovaries. Which, I don't. So I am not really sure the diagnosis fits, however I did not go to school for a zillion years to become a dr. either, but that is all beside the point. So my new Reproductive Endocronologist (Dr. R) is testing me for Cushings Syndrome, which has similar symptoms as PCOS, but a very different cause. It is caused by an overproduction of the adrenal glands which cause weight gain, facial hair, darkening and thickening of the skin etc. BUT... Cushings Syndrome is TREATABLE...more so than PCOS. (So everyone root for me Cushing's...Cushing's...Cushing's) OK...the BAD part is how the actually TEST for Cushing's syndrome. They have to check your cortisol (some hormone) levels over a 24 hour period. They use urine instead of blood to test. So...for the last 24 hours, I have had to pee in something that looks like this:
OK...so keep in mind a couple of things. 1. I am a woman, I do not have a penis. 2. I am a woman, I do not have a penis 3. I DO NOT HAVE A PENIS.
(Are you seeing a pattern?) OK, whose idea was this little container anyway? I can understand for a man because he has the anatomy and ability to aim into a small hole like this (although if you look at the toilet seats at work, most men don't use that ability) but I do not have the anatomy or ability. This leaves me straddling the toilet holding this plastic bucket under me, doing some sort of balancing -trying-not-to-pee-on-myself-or-the-toilet-or-the-sink act. Once I finally manage to get some urine in the container (and only a little on the wall) I realize that I could not get any toilet paper off the roll. One hand was holding the pee bucket which now had pee dripping down the side and the other (which happens to be my left and I am right handed) is not coordinated enough to tear off a piece without the trusting help of the right hand....And so this debacle continued for a whole 24 hours.
As if peeing in a hole the size of a pin head wasn't bad enough...the pee bucket had to be stored in the refrigerator between urinations!!! Um...excuse me...I have to do this when I am at work...isn't there a law against putting bodily fluids in the refrigerator at work??? If there isn't...there should be!
But I did it, I bravely concealed my pee bucket in 3 plastic grocery bags and placed it gingerly in the refrigerator.
As if this routine had not been embarassing enough...after the 24 hour period was up...I had to take my pee bucket back to the lab. So there I go...walking through the doors where all 25 people in the waiting room look at me and then their stares moved down to the brown plastic Basha's bag I was carrying. I saw their eyes shift...not wanting to make eye contact...I heard the whispers..."what do you think it is? Do you think she is carrying her own pee in that bag?" "Probably...she looks pretty weird."
OK, maybe that was just my own insecurities talking but what unfolded next was humiliating.
I was not sure if I had to sign in and wait the hour like normal to be called to the desk or if I could just drop the pee and run, so I walked up to the receptionist who did not at all look happy to be alive and said in a very low, quiet tone:
ME: excuse me, I just need to drop off my urine collection (There is a new line coming out in the Spring, it is great for the collector in everyone)
R:What?
ME: (the slightest bit louder) I just need to drop off my urine collection, do I still need to sign in and wait?
R: (very loudly) Yes...even if you are just dropping off your urine, you need to sign in, I still have to verify your orders"
**The whispering started up again, and I embarrased as all hell signed in with as much dignity as I could muster and took my seat next to an 80 year old woman who immediately got up and moved across the room from me. (I am NOT kidding this totally happened)
ME: "Hey lady, I might be carrying my pee, but at least it is in a plastic bucket and not in a diaper" - OK, I didn't say that, but I REALLY wanted to.
So...there is the update so far. I am sure there is more, but I have friends coming over tonight and I should get home. Oh....friends...that is the other thing I wanted to talk about...I will try to post on that one soon.
By the way...I go back to the Dr. on Jan. 3 to get my results. Please pray for Cushing's syndrome!!!!
I had an HSG this month which is where they detect if your fallopian tubes are blocked or not. In order to do this, they have to pry you wide open (down there) stick a needle looking thing into the cervix and shoot you full of this blue dye. Then you lie there for a minute, make sure the blue dye flows through both fallopian tubes with ease and then you are done.
Well...the blue dye conquered my tubes like the North conquered the South. No blockages in these babies! That is great news.
So...Good sperm, good tubes, good uterus..just NO EGGS!!!! Well, I am sure I have eggs...I ASSUME I have eggs anyway, they just don't like to crawl their lazy asses out of my ovary. Oh...I am sure it is nice and comfy in there, warm, plenty of food and drinks, good music but HONESTLY... you all can't stay in there FOREVER. Sooner or later at least one of you have to come out...and when you do....your gonna get it!
So after the HSG I got to get stabbed with a needle (by the way...since this whole infertility thing, I have completely conquered my fear of needles. Now I almost get some sick enjoyment out of it!) to check my progesterone count (once again) and then...here comes the fun part, but first, let me give you some background info to set the mood.
My old endocronologist was sure I had PolyCystic Ovarian Syndrome.
I wasn't.
I mean, ok, I have some of the symptoms, but you would think that (given the name) I would have cysts on my ovaries. Which, I don't. So I am not really sure the diagnosis fits, however I did not go to school for a zillion years to become a dr. either, but that is all beside the point. So my new Reproductive Endocronologist (Dr. R) is testing me for Cushings Syndrome, which has similar symptoms as PCOS, but a very different cause. It is caused by an overproduction of the adrenal glands which cause weight gain, facial hair, darkening and thickening of the skin etc. BUT... Cushings Syndrome is TREATABLE...more so than PCOS. (So everyone root for me Cushing's...Cushing's...Cushing's) OK...the BAD part is how the actually TEST for Cushing's syndrome. They have to check your cortisol (some hormone) levels over a 24 hour period. They use urine instead of blood to test. So...for the last 24 hours, I have had to pee in something that looks like this:
OK...so keep in mind a couple of things. 1. I am a woman, I do not have a penis. 2. I am a woman, I do not have a penis 3. I DO NOT HAVE A PENIS.
(Are you seeing a pattern?) OK, whose idea was this little container anyway? I can understand for a man because he has the anatomy and ability to aim into a small hole like this (although if you look at the toilet seats at work, most men don't use that ability) but I do not have the anatomy or ability. This leaves me straddling the toilet holding this plastic bucket under me, doing some sort of balancing -trying-not-to-pee-on-myself-or-the-toilet-or-the-sink act. Once I finally manage to get some urine in the container (and only a little on the wall) I realize that I could not get any toilet paper off the roll. One hand was holding the pee bucket which now had pee dripping down the side and the other (which happens to be my left and I am right handed) is not coordinated enough to tear off a piece without the trusting help of the right hand....And so this debacle continued for a whole 24 hours.
As if peeing in a hole the size of a pin head wasn't bad enough...the pee bucket had to be stored in the refrigerator between urinations!!! Um...excuse me...I have to do this when I am at work...isn't there a law against putting bodily fluids in the refrigerator at work??? If there isn't...there should be!
But I did it, I bravely concealed my pee bucket in 3 plastic grocery bags and placed it gingerly in the refrigerator.
As if this routine had not been embarassing enough...after the 24 hour period was up...I had to take my pee bucket back to the lab. So there I go...walking through the doors where all 25 people in the waiting room look at me and then their stares moved down to the brown plastic Basha's bag I was carrying. I saw their eyes shift...not wanting to make eye contact...I heard the whispers..."what do you think it is? Do you think she is carrying her own pee in that bag?" "Probably...she looks pretty weird."
OK, maybe that was just my own insecurities talking but what unfolded next was humiliating.
I was not sure if I had to sign in and wait the hour like normal to be called to the desk or if I could just drop the pee and run, so I walked up to the receptionist who did not at all look happy to be alive and said in a very low, quiet tone:
ME: excuse me, I just need to drop off my urine collection (There is a new line coming out in the Spring, it is great for the collector in everyone)
R:What?
ME: (the slightest bit louder) I just need to drop off my urine collection, do I still need to sign in and wait?
R: (very loudly) Yes...even if you are just dropping off your urine, you need to sign in, I still have to verify your orders"
**The whispering started up again, and I embarrased as all hell signed in with as much dignity as I could muster and took my seat next to an 80 year old woman who immediately got up and moved across the room from me. (I am NOT kidding this totally happened)
ME: "Hey lady, I might be carrying my pee, but at least it is in a plastic bucket and not in a diaper" - OK, I didn't say that, but I REALLY wanted to.
So...there is the update so far. I am sure there is more, but I have friends coming over tonight and I should get home. Oh....friends...that is the other thing I wanted to talk about...I will try to post on that one soon.
By the way...I go back to the Dr. on Jan. 3 to get my results. Please pray for Cushing's syndrome!!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)