So, today, I thought I was going up into the stirrups and being checked for physical healing, but no. It was the WTF meeting. I'm kind of glad that I'm seeing more of Dr G right now, he's a lot more comforting than Dr Wonderful. Dr W is great getting down to business and making action plans, but Dr G is better at the comforting.
So, Dr G asked about pain and if I could pee etc... and declared me fit to resume normal activity (the hubs will be delighted). He then moved straight to the what happened and where do we go from here. There was an annoying intern in the room who was bouncing his knees like crazy, but whatever. I managed to tune him out. So, I supposed you want to know the verdict...
What Happened: Baby was fine, no apparent structural abnormalities. We did not allow any testing on the baby, so no way to tell if there were chromosomal abnormalities, but probably not. So, because of this and the fact that it looked more like the placenta detached or broke away he's leaning more toward believing it was in fact my body that rejected the baby, and not a problem with the baby. So, which problem with my body? Well... not the auto-immune. He thinks we controlled that as well as possible. To my swollen knuckles, hip and sternum he says (and I quote) "That's normal... about 1/3 of women with RA get better, 1/3 get worse, like you, and the rest don't change. It doesn't really affect the outcome of the pregnancy." But for real?!?! OK, then what happened? Insulin.
Now, before I go further, I do have hyperinsulemia. My blood had like 3x the highest "normal" amount in my last test and I take med's to regulate it. It's like reverse diabetes. Also, my Dr is Jeremy Groll author of the book Fertility Foods which I understand is popular amongst the PCOS* having community, because insulin and PCOS are his specialty and he's really good at getting women with PCOS knocked up. So, I knew he was going to say we have to get a better grip on the insulin. I didn't expect him to name it as the CoD.
Where was I, yes, Insulin (which is the devil). So, he feels that 1) my insulin reducing drugs aren't helping enough. He upped the dose of one and added another and then stated that he hated to just pile on drugs when there were better ways of controlling the insulin, especially when it doesn't look like the drugs are helping much. Huh? Well, despite following his diet plan and exercising (Wii Fit is AWESOME) and walking, I'm not losing weight. He thinks I should be losing weight and the fact that I'm not means dunh, dunh, dunh the insulin is preventing it.
Where do we go from here: We have to further reduce the insulin. For this we have three approaches:
1) More drugs: Not favorable, but doing anyway
2) Sleep Apnea study and wear c-pap: Doing, and glad to be doing, I've been concerned about this for a while
3) Roux en Y bariatric surgery: Have to wait a year before resuming fertility, has the biggest chance of impacting the insulin from the source, G will not approve
So, he says sleep apnea causes an insulin cycle, because every time you suffocate your body produces insulin to be able to fight and more insulin causes more soft tissue, which worsens the apnea which causes more insulin. So, c-pap is job #1. Plus, he thinks it will help with feeling tired all the dang time.
I've looked into Bariatric Surgery before. About 10 years ago. My family doctor told G a horror story about a patient of hers that got BS in the 80's and now lived in a nursing home being feed via IV because her body was unable to process food through her GI tract. Nice... G is 100% ANTI BS, now. I'm a little more apt to give it a try. For one, if the insurance will cover it, it seems like a good way to physically jump start weight loss, which will have the natural effect of reducing insulin. But Dr G says it goes beyond that. He says the surgery itself physically alters the way the body signals the need for insulin, so before the weight loss even begins, the insulin reduction has already started. He is VERY PRO BS. Of course the downside is that is it a MAJOR surgery, it takes months to recover and a year to stabilize. Not only that, things change very quickly and it can be emotionally grueling.
There you have it, insulin = bad. Wait, didn't we already know that?
*PCOS: Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome... aka The Devil
Friday, May 29, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Feeling Title-less and Confused
So, today I'm feeling almost human and I realize the angry rants of the past few days must have been quite boring to anyone other than myself. I'm still angry. I'm still questioning my faith. But, I'm more functional, anyway. I've also realized that ranting about specific people has really been my way of ignoring my deepest pain and just focusing on the surface. At the end of the day, sure I'm pissed about those people, but mostly I'm just pissed about my baby.
I suppose this miscarriage is harder for me because I had time to get attached to the baby, we referred to it by a nickname (Blueberry Bean) and heard the heartbeat. Even though I never saw his (G only referred to BB as "he", "she" wasn't an option) face, or counted his toes, he was my baby. I loved him. I love him still.
But I'm starting to realize that I can't go through the rest of my life so mad that I can't function. I don't see an end to the pain, but I have to believe that it's there.
As I've mentioned before, I feel at a crossroads, I feel torn between scrapping this life and starting a new, and picking up the pieces to move on. I've been trying to get G to move to Alaska, or Florida or Italy. Just pick up and go. He was humoring me for a while. But, last night he decided it was time to be more realistic. Obviously, we can't just pick up and leave. We own a house, two dogs and a very heavy bed that we're unwilling to part with. He also reminded me that we do have more options than just run away or hop back into the stirrups.
So that said, we will probably take the summer to decide a reasonable course of action. At least I can drink :)
I suppose this miscarriage is harder for me because I had time to get attached to the baby, we referred to it by a nickname (Blueberry Bean) and heard the heartbeat. Even though I never saw his (G only referred to BB as "he", "she" wasn't an option) face, or counted his toes, he was my baby. I loved him. I love him still.
But I'm starting to realize that I can't go through the rest of my life so mad that I can't function. I don't see an end to the pain, but I have to believe that it's there.
As I've mentioned before, I feel at a crossroads, I feel torn between scrapping this life and starting a new, and picking up the pieces to move on. I've been trying to get G to move to Alaska, or Florida or Italy. Just pick up and go. He was humoring me for a while. But, last night he decided it was time to be more realistic. Obviously, we can't just pick up and leave. We own a house, two dogs and a very heavy bed that we're unwilling to part with. He also reminded me that we do have more options than just run away or hop back into the stirrups.
So that said, we will probably take the summer to decide a reasonable course of action. At least I can drink :)
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
I want to explode
Yeah, so the pissed, cold and bitter, not really going away. As a matter of fact, they are getting much, much worse. I am seriously having to practice massive amounts of self control to not tear certain people (i.e. MIL and sister) into the millions of pieces that I feel like I've been torn into. I want to hurt them. I want to tell them how terrible they've been, how selfish they are. I want to tell them that I hate them.My sister has informed me that my health and infertility issues are karma's way of punishing me for expressing my views of her lifestyle. I'm pretty sure that SHE is my punishment for everything bad I've ever done or will do in the future. I'm not sure what it is that I plan to do that was bad enough to get strapped with her and G's mom. I must be getting ready to go on a killing spree, or something.Here, I thought when most people were going through the darkest times of their lives, that their families were supposed to be supportive and loving. I think we're going to add a check to the pro column under "run away."
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Back to Work
So, I'm back at work today. I really don't know how I'm going to do this all day everyday. I can't concentrate. I don't care about any of my projects. I'm having a really hard time not breaking down on the phone with clients. The thought of having to do it again tomorrow sending me into even more panic. Needless to say, it's a bad day. At least my boss is being kind and my friend P is in the office today.
So I feel like I'm at a cross road. Like however I proceed from here will set the tone for the next decade. I'm sure that this has a lot to do with the impending 30th birthday, by which I will not be a mother. I'm missing a major life goal I had set for myself. I wanted to be done having children by 30. Now, I won't even have started by 30. Maybe it'll never happen. How much time, energy and money should I devote to this potentially fruitless pursuit?
I'm feeling very torn. Part of me wants to focus on health and finances and immediately start trying again when the RE says it's OK. But another part of me wants to say "fuck it" and run away. Neither side is winning. It's a complete stalemate. I could be reckless and irresponsible and just leave. It's not like G's job is all of that great and if we're running away and not pursuing fertility treatments and security for a future family, I could be just as happy cooking and making 1/2 as much money. Happier, actually...
One the other hand... I can't picture a life without children and family and the way I always pictured it. Giving up just feels wrong, but moving forward feels too hard.
It would be so much easier with a stronger support system, but in a lot of ways it's just me and G.
So I feel like I'm at a cross road. Like however I proceed from here will set the tone for the next decade. I'm sure that this has a lot to do with the impending 30th birthday, by which I will not be a mother. I'm missing a major life goal I had set for myself. I wanted to be done having children by 30. Now, I won't even have started by 30. Maybe it'll never happen. How much time, energy and money should I devote to this potentially fruitless pursuit?
I'm feeling very torn. Part of me wants to focus on health and finances and immediately start trying again when the RE says it's OK. But another part of me wants to say "fuck it" and run away. Neither side is winning. It's a complete stalemate. I could be reckless and irresponsible and just leave. It's not like G's job is all of that great and if we're running away and not pursuing fertility treatments and security for a future family, I could be just as happy cooking and making 1/2 as much money. Happier, actually...
One the other hand... I can't picture a life without children and family and the way I always pictured it. Giving up just feels wrong, but moving forward feels too hard.
It would be so much easier with a stronger support system, but in a lot of ways it's just me and G.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Losing My Religion
Right, so I'm still a mess. Not in the can't stop crying and wish I had died, too, kind of way, but a mess all the same. I'm bitter and cold and pissed. I'm just pissed. How could this happen to us? Again? Seriously. I keep thinking of all the things I could have done differently over my way too short pregnancy and of course there are more than a few, but come on! My sister drank alcohol and smoked cigarettes and pot while she was pregnant and both unplanned boys are here. Yet, my baby is dead.
I guess, I'm pissed at my body, sure. Who wouldn't be. The damn thing's broken and its broken-ness is killing my children, which hurts me, hurts G, hurts everyone. And to top it all off, there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. Of course, I keep hearing all about how people are "praying" for me and how "it will happen in His time" and my all time favorite, for some reason people keep thinking it's appropriate to quote Jer 29:11 to me all the time. For those not in the know, here is the text of Jer 29:11:
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Before I go forward, I should tell you. Until May 15, 2009, I wasn't a very religious person. But I was a person of faith. I do believe that there is a God and I do believe that Jesus Christ is his son and was sent to the world to provide payment for sin and a path to heaven. I still believe that. I also used to believe that God gave a rat's ass about what happened in his people's lives and that he genuinely desired that we be happy etc... Which, I now believe is bullshit. And not just any bullshit, the kind of bullshit hopeless people make up because it helps them feel less hopeless.
I have come to the conclusion that God does not care. At the very least, he does not care about me. If he did, my life would be very different. I wouldn't be in agony every other month thinking I had cancer, or even worse having had another miscarriage. It wouldn't take months and years of temping and drugs and weekly wandings by the dildo cam just to get pregnant, only to have it snatched away when things look the best. I wouldn't be so depressed that just being in the same room with me upsets my husband. I wouldn't be in constant pain, every minute of everyday. I'm not asking for much here. I'm not asking to be thin, or beautiful, or rich, or super smart. I'm not asking for perfect health, or to be blessed into bliss for no reason other than I'm alive. I'm not asking for anything special. Nothing above and beyond the normal human experience. All I want is to not hurt all day everyday and to be able to have children. That's all. I'm not offering nothing in exchange, either. I've been a pray-er and a tither and a volunteer. I've walked the walk. Maybe not as well as some, but I'm not a drug addicted, single, poor pagan/atheist/satanist, either (FYI, I do know a mother who fits the preceding description, which really, really, adds to the bitterness).
I do not believe that God has given these curses to me. I don't believe they are the result of something I've done wrong. I just don't think he cares. I think I got the short end of the genetic stick and God doesn't care. He's not waiting for some magic time to heal me. I am not going to wake up free of pain one day. He doesn't have some plan for my happiness that begins at some predetermined point in the future. I am no more to him than an ant to a human.
He has no plans for me. He does not care if I prosper or am harmed. I have no hope and no future.
I guess, I'm pissed at my body, sure. Who wouldn't be. The damn thing's broken and its broken-ness is killing my children, which hurts me, hurts G, hurts everyone. And to top it all off, there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. Of course, I keep hearing all about how people are "praying" for me and how "it will happen in His time" and my all time favorite, for some reason people keep thinking it's appropriate to quote Jer 29:11 to me all the time. For those not in the know, here is the text of Jer 29:11:
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Before I go forward, I should tell you. Until May 15, 2009, I wasn't a very religious person. But I was a person of faith. I do believe that there is a God and I do believe that Jesus Christ is his son and was sent to the world to provide payment for sin and a path to heaven. I still believe that. I also used to believe that God gave a rat's ass about what happened in his people's lives and that he genuinely desired that we be happy etc... Which, I now believe is bullshit. And not just any bullshit, the kind of bullshit hopeless people make up because it helps them feel less hopeless.
I have come to the conclusion that God does not care. At the very least, he does not care about me. If he did, my life would be very different. I wouldn't be in agony every other month thinking I had cancer, or even worse having had another miscarriage. It wouldn't take months and years of temping and drugs and weekly wandings by the dildo cam just to get pregnant, only to have it snatched away when things look the best. I wouldn't be so depressed that just being in the same room with me upsets my husband. I wouldn't be in constant pain, every minute of everyday. I'm not asking for much here. I'm not asking to be thin, or beautiful, or rich, or super smart. I'm not asking for perfect health, or to be blessed into bliss for no reason other than I'm alive. I'm not asking for anything special. Nothing above and beyond the normal human experience. All I want is to not hurt all day everyday and to be able to have children. That's all. I'm not offering nothing in exchange, either. I've been a pray-er and a tither and a volunteer. I've walked the walk. Maybe not as well as some, but I'm not a drug addicted, single, poor pagan/atheist/satanist, either (FYI, I do know a mother who fits the preceding description, which really, really, adds to the bitterness).
I do not believe that God has given these curses to me. I don't believe they are the result of something I've done wrong. I just don't think he cares. I think I got the short end of the genetic stick and God doesn't care. He's not waiting for some magic time to heal me. I am not going to wake up free of pain one day. He doesn't have some plan for my happiness that begins at some predetermined point in the future. I am no more to him than an ant to a human.
He has no plans for me. He does not care if I prosper or am harmed. I have no hope and no future.
Friday, May 22, 2009
It was a week ago today that we found out the baby was dead. A lot can change in a week. Right now we should be 11 weeks. The baby should be the size of a lime. We should be happy. But instead my baby is dead. It's body is at a lab somewhere so "they" can determine if there's anything to change for "next time."
I don't even know if there's going to be a next time. I can't fathom the thought of going through life empty and alone like this. I can't imagine not being a mother. But, honestly, I don't think I can survive this again. I'm not sure how I'll survive this time. Putting one foot in front of the other takes too much effort right now. Speaking to anyone other than my mom or G is difficult. So, why would I volunteer for this again.
And why the fuck did my team let me get so damn hopeful. I was scared when the baby was small for age, but "it's OK, not all babies measure spot on" or "we just got your ov date off a little, everything looks great" or "perfect heartbeat." If everything was so goddamned perfect why the fuck is my baby dead?!?!? Wouldn't it have been easier to say "Well, I'm a little concerned about the size" if for no other reason than to manage my expectations?
I can't do this. I can't. I'm hyperventilating just thinking about having to go back to work on Tuesday. This is fair, it isn't right and I can't do it.
I don't even know if there's going to be a next time. I can't fathom the thought of going through life empty and alone like this. I can't imagine not being a mother. But, honestly, I don't think I can survive this again. I'm not sure how I'll survive this time. Putting one foot in front of the other takes too much effort right now. Speaking to anyone other than my mom or G is difficult. So, why would I volunteer for this again.
And why the fuck did my team let me get so damn hopeful. I was scared when the baby was small for age, but "it's OK, not all babies measure spot on" or "we just got your ov date off a little, everything looks great" or "perfect heartbeat." If everything was so goddamned perfect why the fuck is my baby dead?!?!? Wouldn't it have been easier to say "Well, I'm a little concerned about the size" if for no other reason than to manage my expectations?
I can't do this. I can't. I'm hyperventilating just thinking about having to go back to work on Tuesday. This is fair, it isn't right and I can't do it.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Random thoughts of the bereaved
This is so unfair. I don't know what I did to make God hate me so badly, but whatever it was this shitstorm of a life is NOT a fair trade. I just wish I could be numb and not have to feel this all of the time. But even vicodin and vodka have no effect on the black whole in my chest.
I can't do it, I'm not strong enough and it's no fucking fair.
Unfortunately, I'm not given a choice. I have to deal with it. At least we were already scheduled for vacation this week, so I'm not having to deal with work, too. Work has been very understanding. My friend P has taken care of letting everyone know and has been very sweet about seeing do I need anything. It is appreciated.
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Big C on the other hand, not too small to care. Too small to careabout my feelings, but big enough to care at least. He wants to know where the baby is, how did it get there, are we sure it's not just sleeping. Why did I tell him? Why should he have to be burdened with this too? He was really looking forward to having another baby. One that wouldn't be an off limits source of competition, but one that would be an equal and available source of love.
OK, I have to stop, I could ramble on this way all day, but seeings how this is already more of a journal entry than blog and long enough to be boring, I'll stop.
I can't do it, I'm not strong enough and it's no fucking fair.
Unfortunately, I'm not given a choice. I have to deal with it. At least we were already scheduled for vacation this week, so I'm not having to deal with work, too. Work has been very understanding. My friend P has taken care of letting everyone know and has been very sweet about seeing do I need anything. It is appreciated.
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Big C on the other hand, not too small to care. Too small to careabout my feelings, but big enough to care at least. He wants to know where the baby is, how did it get there, are we sure it's not just sleeping. Why did I tell him? Why should he have to be burdened with this too? He was really looking forward to having another baby. One that wouldn't be an off limits source of competition, but one that would be an equal and available source of love.
OK, I have to stop, I could ramble on this way all day, but seeings how this is already more of a journal entry than blog and long enough to be boring, I'll stop.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Ugh
OK, so I'm too lazy to think of a title and that's how I feel today, so title it is. Feel free to skip if you don't wish to read a lot of self loathing misery.
I'm just feeling so much and so little and I can't make it an hour without crying. Some of G's family stopped by today (which was a very nice gesture), but it took a lot out of me to put on my happy face for so long. So, now I'm drained. I really just want to down a handful of vicodin and not have to think for a while (not a suicidal level, just a dreamless sleep level.)
I'm stupidly afraid to actually take anything because "what if." You know, what if the doctor was wrong. What if the placenta has magically reattached and the baby's heart magically started beating again. It's ridiculous. I saw the still heart with my own eyes, I saw the separation of the placenta with my own eyes. My baby is dead. But why?
I'll tell you why. My body is fucked up. My body gets even more fucked up when I'm stressed and my fucking MIL likes to cause stress. So, she got what she wanted. Fucking bitch. I really hate her. She hasn't called at all, either. I don't even know if she knows. She isn't the only stress, though, I've got other family issues that take their toll on me, too. Plus, I don't exactly have a low stress job. So, I guess I'm just screwed.
Why do I even keep trying and putting myself through this shit? I don't know. I don't think I can do it again. People keep saying "Well, you can always try again" but holy shit how many babies can you lose before it's too much? I think might be my limit. We'll have to see. G does really want to try again. But, he doesn't have to walk around with a dead baby in his body when it all goes bad, as it always does. I don't know. I need to give myself a couple of months before making any decisions.
Anyway, enough of that, nobody wants to read about someone else's misery. But apparently, they do want to call and ask if your still miserable. Which is really starting to piss me off. I know these people think they're "helping" but short of super-Jesus miracle power, there isn't anything anyone can do to actually help. I do appreciate the e-mails and offers of support, it's over and over again phone calls that are getting to me.
OK, done, rant over.
I'm just feeling so much and so little and I can't make it an hour without crying. Some of G's family stopped by today (which was a very nice gesture), but it took a lot out of me to put on my happy face for so long. So, now I'm drained. I really just want to down a handful of vicodin and not have to think for a while (not a suicidal level, just a dreamless sleep level.)
I'm stupidly afraid to actually take anything because "what if." You know, what if the doctor was wrong. What if the placenta has magically reattached and the baby's heart magically started beating again. It's ridiculous. I saw the still heart with my own eyes, I saw the separation of the placenta with my own eyes. My baby is dead. But why?
I'll tell you why. My body is fucked up. My body gets even more fucked up when I'm stressed and my fucking MIL likes to cause stress. So, she got what she wanted. Fucking bitch. I really hate her. She hasn't called at all, either. I don't even know if she knows. She isn't the only stress, though, I've got other family issues that take their toll on me, too. Plus, I don't exactly have a low stress job. So, I guess I'm just screwed.
Why do I even keep trying and putting myself through this shit? I don't know. I don't think I can do it again. People keep saying "Well, you can always try again" but holy shit how many babies can you lose before it's too much? I think might be my limit. We'll have to see. G does really want to try again. But, he doesn't have to walk around with a dead baby in his body when it all goes bad, as it always does. I don't know. I need to give myself a couple of months before making any decisions.
Anyway, enough of that, nobody wants to read about someone else's misery. But apparently, they do want to call and ask if your still miserable. Which is really starting to piss me off. I know these people think they're "helping" but short of super-Jesus miracle power, there isn't anything anyone can do to actually help. I do appreciate the e-mails and offers of support, it's over and over again phone calls that are getting to me.
OK, done, rant over.
Friday, May 15, 2009
The Even More Unexpected
Well, today's ultrasound did not go well at all. The heartbeat has stopped and it looks like the baby stopped developing around last Monday. So, I have a "confirmation scan" scheduled for Monday and a D&C scheduled for Wednesday.
I should have more to say, but I'm pretty drained.
I should have more to say, but I'm pretty drained.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
The Unexpected
So, I knew things were going to change with pregnancy. I knew things were going to change day by day. I expected some exhaustion, some nausea, some grouchy... all par for the course stuff people tell you about.
Some things have been shocking, though!
#1 The gassy... I'm not just talking a couple toots after chili here. I'm talking burping/farting/gurgling all freaking day. Regardless of what's ingested. The gassy, for realz. maybe it's just me, IDK, but I could power a small town with methane these days.
#2 The crampy... Here I thought something was just wrong, but no. Very normal, I'm hearing. The cramping comes and goes and I feel like AF is coming a couple months late, but no... Doctor says "No blood no worries" I say "But for real with the cramps" and he says "Yes, I know, please notice the MD at the end of my name and the fact that you call me doctor, normal, quit freaking out."
#3 The horny... this is a new one, but for real, the horny. More like adolescent boy crazy/the horny. It's insane, I have had shexy dreams every night about some pretty boy (or man, or chick) every feaking night for like the last two weeks. Normally it's the pretty Robert Pattinson or Ryan Reynolds. Seriously, these men want me, at 3am, from afar, or so says my dreams.
Some things have been shocking, though!
#1 The gassy... I'm not just talking a couple toots after chili here. I'm talking burping/farting/gurgling all freaking day. Regardless of what's ingested. The gassy, for realz. maybe it's just me, IDK, but I could power a small town with methane these days.
#2 The crampy... Here I thought something was just wrong, but no. Very normal, I'm hearing. The cramping comes and goes and I feel like AF is coming a couple months late, but no... Doctor says "No blood no worries" I say "But for real with the cramps" and he says "Yes, I know, please notice the MD at the end of my name and the fact that you call me doctor, normal, quit freaking out."
#3 The horny... this is a new one, but for real, the horny. More like adolescent boy crazy/the horny. It's insane, I have had shexy dreams every night about some pretty boy (or man, or chick) every feaking night for like the last two weeks. Normally it's the pretty Robert Pattinson or Ryan Reynolds. Seriously, these men want me, at 3am, from afar, or so says my dreams.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Change in course, or not...
So, as of late I've realized that my infertility blog has quickly become a mother-in-law rant blog. Which is a change of format. But kind of it isn't. Her behavior, and our reaction, are all directly related to the pregnancy which is related to the infertility.
So I have a question for you dear internets... do you prefer I take the MIL ranting elsewhere, or do you care?
So I have a question for you dear internets... do you prefer I take the MIL ranting elsewhere, or do you care?
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
The good, the bad and the MIL
So, I haven't been posting as much lately. Primarily in an attempt to not be boring. Also in an attempt to not be overly, "I'm pregnant, yay!" when 1) we're not out of the woods, yet and 2) the majority of my readership is still TTC. Not that I'm claiming a huge readership. So, I'm trying to balance the haps, with the pregnancy and not bore you all to death.
So, good stuff first, yeah? We have another ultrasound on Friday. We only get two more with the RE before we have to go to the common folks doctor (this is how I refer to the OB since finding out how much better the RE's office treats their patients). I've been reading books on natural childbirth (the Bradley Methos) and nursing. G stole my copy of What to Expect, and I can't find it... So, I used copius amounts of drugs to get pregnant, but I don't think I want to use drugs to get it out. I'll update you further post u/s.
The bad stuff (ok, medium)... I've given up on dog containment during the day. They thwarted my every attempt to keep them in the kitchen, so they now have total house freedom day and night. And... Emma is retaining her training. They must have been ready. So yay, for no pees on the floor, but boo to more hair on the furniture.
The MIL... Did not receive Mother's Day card or acknowledment from MIL. I did send her a card from G and me and from our Blueberry Bean. I also, very graciously, sent her u/s photos. Which, though G's handwriting was nowhere to be found on any of, she thanked HIM for. Whatever. Also, G and I worded a letter to send to her to establish our boundaries. I'm putting it in the mail tonight. Here's the text for any who care:
Dear Mom,
We have a few things that we need to say to you, but because things have been so strained lately, we don’t feel talking about this face to face is the best way to approach the issue at this time. That is why we are writing this letter. This is from both of us.
Over the past fifteen years, many things have transpired that have been left unaddressed and have festered into a sour relationship between us. The main issue, as we see it, is your blatant rejection of Arminta. You need to understand that because we are married and are a team rejecting one of us is rejecting both of us. This rejection has shown up as you criticizing, insulting and berating Arminta. Sometimes to her face, but usually to Gar. Gar is not willing to be in the middle of this negativity any longer. If you have a specific issue that you would like to discuss calmly with Arminta, please feel free to call her and discuss it directly with her. Neither of us is willing to allow you to insult, criticize, berate or shout at either of us any longer. We are willing to discuss, calmly, any actual occurrence in which you feel you have been wronged, going forward. We are not willing to dwell on past events.
Additionally, we are not willing to pretend that everything is OK when it is not. Things are not OK right now, and they won’t be until some resolution and change happens in our relationship. We have both been hurt by your behavior over the past few months. Gar has been especially hurt by your berating him over the phone in the past two months. We are experiencing some of the biggest joys and biggest stresses in our lives right now, with finally becoming pregnant after months of fertility treatments and years of infertility. We both are excited and happy to be welcoming this baby into our home and to be honest your behavior since we announced our pregnancy has been hurtful and has added stress to our lives. We hoped to be able to share this joyous time with you, rather than to have to endure ill treatment because of it. We are hurt that you would willingly add stress to what is already a high risk pregnancy.
We are willing to accept partial responsibility for the condition of our relationship, if you are willing to accept your share. We feel that you owe us an apology for the berating and stressful phone calls of the past few weeks, and are not willing to pursue further contact until this happens.
We are also not willing to listen to anymore insults, criticisms or berating of Arminta’s family. You do not have a relationship with them and you do know the details of our relationships with them. If a member of Arminta’s family specifically does or says something to you that hurts you in the future, please feel free to discuss this calmly and rationally with Arminta. We are not willing to dwell on the past.
There are people with whom we are not willing to have a relationship. This is a result of our relationship with them, and is not a reflection of anyone’s opinion of anything other than that persons behavior (and its’ effect on our lives) and events that transpired between them and us, ending our relationship. As adults, we expect you to respect our decision, whether or not you agree with it or decide to continue your own relationship with those people. We are willing to understand that you still want a relationship with people who have hurt us or with whom we have chosen not to have a relationship, and are willing to respect that decision.
Arminta is particularly hurt over events that have happened over the years, especially insults about her weight and disparaging comments on her health. She is willing to put a fresh start on this relationship, and to try to build more trust in you as a mother-in-law. Trust will take time to re-build. In the meantime, Arminta is not willing to put herself into situations where she feels uncomfortable or likely to be attacked. This may result in Gar coming to events alone, or it may result in neither of us coming to an event, based on how we feel at the time.
We do hope that things between us can improve and that you will be willing to make changes with us in order to have a better relationship. We would like for you to be able to be a part of the baby’s life. Provided improvement is being made when the baby is born we hope that you will come to see the baby at our home. We would like to state in advance, though, that we are not willing to allow our positions as parents to be disrespected.
We sincerely hope that you see this letter for what it is, an attempt to begin the repair process on our relationship. We also hope that you will consider what we are saying and know that this is very important to us both. If you would like to discuss this further, we would like to have you over for dinner and a conversation. Please let us know when would be a good time for you.
Sincerely,
G & A
So, good stuff first, yeah? We have another ultrasound on Friday. We only get two more with the RE before we have to go to the common folks doctor (this is how I refer to the OB since finding out how much better the RE's office treats their patients). I've been reading books on natural childbirth (the Bradley Methos) and nursing. G stole my copy of What to Expect, and I can't find it... So, I used copius amounts of drugs to get pregnant, but I don't think I want to use drugs to get it out. I'll update you further post u/s.
The bad stuff (ok, medium)... I've given up on dog containment during the day. They thwarted my every attempt to keep them in the kitchen, so they now have total house freedom day and night. And... Emma is retaining her training. They must have been ready. So yay, for no pees on the floor, but boo to more hair on the furniture.
The MIL... Did not receive Mother's Day card or acknowledment from MIL. I did send her a card from G and me and from our Blueberry Bean. I also, very graciously, sent her u/s photos. Which, though G's handwriting was nowhere to be found on any of, she thanked HIM for. Whatever. Also, G and I worded a letter to send to her to establish our boundaries. I'm putting it in the mail tonight. Here's the text for any who care:
Dear Mom,
We have a few things that we need to say to you, but because things have been so strained lately, we don’t feel talking about this face to face is the best way to approach the issue at this time. That is why we are writing this letter. This is from both of us.
Over the past fifteen years, many things have transpired that have been left unaddressed and have festered into a sour relationship between us. The main issue, as we see it, is your blatant rejection of Arminta. You need to understand that because we are married and are a team rejecting one of us is rejecting both of us. This rejection has shown up as you criticizing, insulting and berating Arminta. Sometimes to her face, but usually to Gar. Gar is not willing to be in the middle of this negativity any longer. If you have a specific issue that you would like to discuss calmly with Arminta, please feel free to call her and discuss it directly with her. Neither of us is willing to allow you to insult, criticize, berate or shout at either of us any longer. We are willing to discuss, calmly, any actual occurrence in which you feel you have been wronged, going forward. We are not willing to dwell on past events.
Additionally, we are not willing to pretend that everything is OK when it is not. Things are not OK right now, and they won’t be until some resolution and change happens in our relationship. We have both been hurt by your behavior over the past few months. Gar has been especially hurt by your berating him over the phone in the past two months. We are experiencing some of the biggest joys and biggest stresses in our lives right now, with finally becoming pregnant after months of fertility treatments and years of infertility. We both are excited and happy to be welcoming this baby into our home and to be honest your behavior since we announced our pregnancy has been hurtful and has added stress to our lives. We hoped to be able to share this joyous time with you, rather than to have to endure ill treatment because of it. We are hurt that you would willingly add stress to what is already a high risk pregnancy.
We are willing to accept partial responsibility for the condition of our relationship, if you are willing to accept your share. We feel that you owe us an apology for the berating and stressful phone calls of the past few weeks, and are not willing to pursue further contact until this happens.
We are also not willing to listen to anymore insults, criticisms or berating of Arminta’s family. You do not have a relationship with them and you do know the details of our relationships with them. If a member of Arminta’s family specifically does or says something to you that hurts you in the future, please feel free to discuss this calmly and rationally with Arminta. We are not willing to dwell on the past.
There are people with whom we are not willing to have a relationship. This is a result of our relationship with them, and is not a reflection of anyone’s opinion of anything other than that persons behavior (and its’ effect on our lives) and events that transpired between them and us, ending our relationship. As adults, we expect you to respect our decision, whether or not you agree with it or decide to continue your own relationship with those people. We are willing to understand that you still want a relationship with people who have hurt us or with whom we have chosen not to have a relationship, and are willing to respect that decision.
Arminta is particularly hurt over events that have happened over the years, especially insults about her weight and disparaging comments on her health. She is willing to put a fresh start on this relationship, and to try to build more trust in you as a mother-in-law. Trust will take time to re-build. In the meantime, Arminta is not willing to put herself into situations where she feels uncomfortable or likely to be attacked. This may result in Gar coming to events alone, or it may result in neither of us coming to an event, based on how we feel at the time.
We do hope that things between us can improve and that you will be willing to make changes with us in order to have a better relationship. We would like for you to be able to be a part of the baby’s life. Provided improvement is being made when the baby is born we hope that you will come to see the baby at our home. We would like to state in advance, though, that we are not willing to allow our positions as parents to be disrespected.
We sincerely hope that you see this letter for what it is, an attempt to begin the repair process on our relationship. We also hope that you will consider what we are saying and know that this is very important to us both. If you would like to discuss this further, we would like to have you over for dinner and a conversation. Please let us know when would be a good time for you.
Sincerely,
G & A
Monday, May 11, 2009
Right vs Best
I am in a sticky conumdrum. There is a situation in my life, about which I'm going to be unusually vague, that is really perplexing me. There are the things I know to be true, versus the things I can prove are true. The things I can prove do not warrant action, but the things I know do. There is also the question of what is right and is what's right what's best for all involved. I'm really struggling with how to handle. Sorry for being so cryptic and vague, but until I decide how to proceed it's necessary...
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Gas or Baby
I can't tell. I have fluttering "down there" and I can't tell if it's gas or baby. I'm guessing it's WAY too early to be baby, and must be gas...
Which wouldn't be surprising.
FYI... pregnancy is gassy work.
Oh, the things no one tells us.
Which wouldn't be surprising.
FYI... pregnancy is gassy work.
Oh, the things no one tells us.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Gravity and I are Still Friends
No, I did not in fact fall off of the face of the Earth. Really.
I did have an ultrasound, though. I figured I was getting pretty used to the whole ultrasound routine, and since we heard the heartbeat last time, I thought we should bring the camera to record it. Great idea. I love listening to the 7 seconds of heartbeat we got recorded.
Why only 7 seconds? Seems short and arbitrary, no?
As it turns out, my husband (who was a photography/videography student at our "magnet for the arts" high school) is not the one who should be taking video of important moments. The heartbeat was on for almost 30 seconds before I realized he hadn't even turned on the camera. Gee whiz. Well, we do have other footage, of him joking with the nurse, of my feet poking out of the sheet, of the nurse joking about taking an under the sheet shot, of G's face as jokes with the nurse, oh and a couple of fuzzy passing shots of our child on the monitor. Very frustrating. But, I have 7 seconds to play over and over, so I should be grateful for that!
In other news... I'm having an affair with Robert Pattinson. But only when I'm asleep. I also don't think he's aware of this. At all.
All the same, my dreams have been steamy as of late. Very unusual for me. I normally have dreams that are borderline nightmares, but in the past two weeks that has changed drastically. I think it might have something to do with having watched Twilight like 20 times since the DVD came out. Also, weird for me. I read all four of the books. I liked them fine, but I'd choose Harry Potter any day of the week for reading entertainment. The Twilight movie, on the other hand, I'm hooked on. I can't figure out why, but I'm blaming the Blueberry Bean.
Which is the baby's name until the gender is revealed. The Blueberry Bean is being blamed for more things, too. Like I usually am a homebody on the weekends and now I'm enjoying running around with G. I usually am not overly affectionate, or needy in the "stay home and snuggle" sense of the word, but lately, yeah I've been saying that. Weird. I'm not complaining these are all things that make my hubs happy, so great. Just also, weird. I think the Blueberry Bean is more like G than me and is controlling my mind.
What else has happened in the insane amount of time since the last post... Right, my mother-in-law has lost her damn mind. But for real. Internets, this woman needs psychological help. She is calling and saying hateful things, then calling and telling G to leave her alone then calling and crying about they've never been like to each other and it's all my fault. Then of course comes the tirade on why I'm a terrible person who should not be allowed to exist. Her primary complaints are things like, after she was overbearing on me for HOURS at a picnic at my house with 30 people in 90+ degree heat (where her family members were smoking pot and driving through my lawn) I snapped at her for being to overbearing. I'm a terrible, terrible human being. I also talk trash about her family and have no right to do so. You know, I don't have any reason to not like her sister who illegally registered a car to my address to avoid emissions testing and when G called and asked her to change it, saying we didn't feel comfortable with the situation she went off and told him she hoped he died a painful death with the rest of "his family." Then continued to call and leave nasty messages for several more days. But, according to MIL, this sister has "always been good to me and I have no reason to say I don't want to be around her."
The real kicker, I have stated for actual reasons that involve me or G that I don't want to be around specific people. But, if I were to speak about her family the way she talks about mine, she'd be at my house threatening to kick my ass, pregnant or not. I'm really, really tired of this BS, and yet, it continues.
So, that's it... Just busy battling crazy, but gravity and I still get along.
I did have an ultrasound, though. I figured I was getting pretty used to the whole ultrasound routine, and since we heard the heartbeat last time, I thought we should bring the camera to record it. Great idea. I love listening to the 7 seconds of heartbeat we got recorded.
Why only 7 seconds? Seems short and arbitrary, no?
As it turns out, my husband (who was a photography/videography student at our "magnet for the arts" high school) is not the one who should be taking video of important moments. The heartbeat was on for almost 30 seconds before I realized he hadn't even turned on the camera. Gee whiz. Well, we do have other footage, of him joking with the nurse, of my feet poking out of the sheet, of the nurse joking about taking an under the sheet shot, of G's face as jokes with the nurse, oh and a couple of fuzzy passing shots of our child on the monitor. Very frustrating. But, I have 7 seconds to play over and over, so I should be grateful for that!
In other news... I'm having an affair with Robert Pattinson. But only when I'm asleep. I also don't think he's aware of this. At all.
All the same, my dreams have been steamy as of late. Very unusual for me. I normally have dreams that are borderline nightmares, but in the past two weeks that has changed drastically. I think it might have something to do with having watched Twilight like 20 times since the DVD came out. Also, weird for me. I read all four of the books. I liked them fine, but I'd choose Harry Potter any day of the week for reading entertainment. The Twilight movie, on the other hand, I'm hooked on. I can't figure out why, but I'm blaming the Blueberry Bean.
Which is the baby's name until the gender is revealed. The Blueberry Bean is being blamed for more things, too. Like I usually am a homebody on the weekends and now I'm enjoying running around with G. I usually am not overly affectionate, or needy in the "stay home and snuggle" sense of the word, but lately, yeah I've been saying that. Weird. I'm not complaining these are all things that make my hubs happy, so great. Just also, weird. I think the Blueberry Bean is more like G than me and is controlling my mind.
What else has happened in the insane amount of time since the last post... Right, my mother-in-law has lost her damn mind. But for real. Internets, this woman needs psychological help. She is calling and saying hateful things, then calling and telling G to leave her alone then calling and crying about they've never been like to each other and it's all my fault. Then of course comes the tirade on why I'm a terrible person who should not be allowed to exist. Her primary complaints are things like, after she was overbearing on me for HOURS at a picnic at my house with 30 people in 90+ degree heat (where her family members were smoking pot and driving through my lawn) I snapped at her for being to overbearing. I'm a terrible, terrible human being. I also talk trash about her family and have no right to do so. You know, I don't have any reason to not like her sister who illegally registered a car to my address to avoid emissions testing and when G called and asked her to change it, saying we didn't feel comfortable with the situation she went off and told him she hoped he died a painful death with the rest of "his family." Then continued to call and leave nasty messages for several more days. But, according to MIL, this sister has "always been good to me and I have no reason to say I don't want to be around her."
The real kicker, I have stated for actual reasons that involve me or G that I don't want to be around specific people. But, if I were to speak about her family the way she talks about mine, she'd be at my house threatening to kick my ass, pregnant or not. I'm really, really tired of this BS, and yet, it continues.
So, that's it... Just busy battling crazy, but gravity and I still get along.
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