First I want to thank each and every one of you for commenting on my previous posts. Unfortunately I have not yet figured out how to reply, even when I'm signed in.
Rosie, I wish you the best of luck, I know you just posted to me a few days ago. It's strange that I just happened to check in at this time after so many months.
I think it's been about 9 months since my last post, (irony) and I have some new life in my home but they meow. I'm very happy to have them, enjoy their love and devotion.
One of our first beautiful boys is very sick, his heart is getting worse and the inevitable was explained to me that I will be lucky to have him for a few more months. He just joined me at the computer, he is so connected to me, it is surreal. He sleeps with me every night. I just came home from a weekend runaway, still up to my running away, and my husband said kitty kept him awake for the 2 nights that I was gone meowing/screaming running around looking for me. Being a furr mommy is a blessing but unfortunately, it promises definite heartbreak with the life expectancy of these incredibly loving creatures. This guy is only 10 years old, had him since he was 7 months, lost his brother to his heart disease in 2009.
Life is full of pain and loss, each one seems to wake up the trauma of my journey through hell (Infertility) which I have never been able to escape, and don't feel too confidant that there is any way I will ever get over the fight, struggle, suffering, loss, suffering, etc. I am forever haunted.
Been to many doctors over the last few months, declining health, diagnosed with Fibromyalgia in addition to my upper extremity nerve damage, hip bursitis, and lower back degeneration. This in addition to my Interstitial Cystitis (torturously painful condition) has really kept me busy, and the clincher is, Fibromyalgia just exacerbates all of the other illnesses.
Irony again: Fibromyalgia is an illness that shoots out pain from the brain into the nerve and muscles and makes every ache and pain magnified by 100 according to my Rheumatologist who knows my infertile hell history. She is sure that I suffer from PTSD, from the years of infertility treatments, and finally the pregnancy, and then, THE DAY THAT CHANGED MY LIFE FOREVER, when my body killed my beautiful babies.
So, a lot has happened since my last post, and yes, I'm feeling very sorry for myself. I have a very dear friend who has 2 children that I am thrilled to share my life with. Only trouble is she says she thinks I like being miserable. She says she has her own losses, being alone raising two young children. She thinks she will be alone forever. This sucks too! Only difference is she's beautiful and younger, and chances are she will find a great guy she truly deserves, she just has to!
But I, will never have a child, be a mother, a member of that very incredible club of "Normal" human beings that talk about their kids. It's a club that I will NEVER belong to, and it hurts like hell.
Why was I dealt this life that sometimes I don't feel like I want to be here anymore. Sometimes it just feels like a waste of time and breath.
Almost 3 years have gone by since I lost the babies, 7 years since I started fighting the infertility ride of horror, never knowing I never had a chance to win. Every one always says, stay optimistic, pray to god, it will happen, but no one ever hears the story about the woman who actually never succeeded.
I wonder, should I write a book about Infertile Hell and how there are a choice few who never get the happy ending? I would really like some feedback on this.
I have a husband, and a mother. I have some great friends and wonderful pussycats. I am very lucky, but, I WILL ALWAYS BE ALONE, NEVER BE A MEMBER OF THE CLUB, AND ALWAYS BE TORTURED BY THAT DAMN COMMERICAL ON TV THAT SAYS:
Surprise, you're having triplets.
Or the commercial from sleepy's furniture that starts off with the happy pregnant woman lying on bed with her hubby,
or be tortured by the headlines of every news show, magazine, newspaper,
BLAH BLAH is pregnant! It's all over the place and there is no safe place to hide!
No one, not even my family cares or bothers to see how I am, they just go on with their happy little lives. No one wants to deal with the miserable one that can't just suck it up and move on.
Am I unrealistic to say that sometimes, YOU JUST DON'T GET OVER IT, SOMETIMES THERE IS NO HAPPY ENDING?
I got myself a mother's day present this year, as I do every year, but this time it wasn't only a present that I bought myself since I was a mother for almost a full trimester. This time I also got a tattoo of three tiny hearts on my foot, at 47 years old. Those precious heartbeats I was able to see and hear back in November 2010. I can see them on my feet now, and they will be with me forever.
Even though, they will never be remembered by any one else in the world, they will always be in my heart. I am so sad.
Please if anyone wants to get in touch you can go to Facebook, just look for Infertile Hell or email me at infertilehell@hotmail.com.
I only hope that no woman who walks in my shoes feels alone. It is a very sad and isolated place. As long as I am here, Reach out!
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
It's been a while..........................
I haven't posted here in a while. Part of me wants to forget about the whole thing, but unfortunately, every day life is a constant reminder and does not allow for healing unless one decides to become a hermit/recluse.
I made it through the holidays of 2011. I was so busy planning to get the hell out of here and getting ready for our big trip right before New Years. DH decided to work on XMAS eve, so I grabbed mom and took a drive to Atlantic city for a 24 hour escape.
Before dinner, we got our hair done at the salon, and to my surprise the girl who does my hair was pregnant, hadn't noticed in the past, but couldn't help but notice this time. And so that was the first of my holiday presents, another knife to the heart. And she was opening up gifts from customers, BABY CLOTHES, HOW NICE!!!!!
We had a wonderful dinner at The Palm. I drank and I gambled. I didn't win. No surprise there. Eat, drink, gamble, be merry, right. It was good to get away. The crowd was unusual at the hotel, not very crowded thankfully, but of course there were still families around, need I say more?
Drove back home on Xmas day, and saw DH for a few hours. I shopped while I was away so that DH had presents to give me when I got back. Makes it easier for him, and keeps me distracted. The only problem with shopping for clothes is that I've never lost the baby/depression weight, and on the road that I'm on of eating/drinking, I probably never will.
Oh well, what's an extra 20lbs anyway? It's not like it will slow me down chasing after my imaginary toddler or anything like that, right? So I'm overweight, who cares? The truth is when you are depressed, it just makes it all worse, yet you can't find the motivation to control it.
I'm very cranky today as I write this post, I just got my period they now come every 5 weeks, that's the newest development in my life. Since stopping fertility treatments, my periods went from every 3 weeks for a couple of months, to every 5 weeks.
.
So this I guess is peri-menopause, another ugly reminder, that my life will be forever empty and that I am aging. Kicker is I can't even find a gynocologist that only does gyn. They all do OB. I refuse to ever have to sit in an office with smiling pregnant woman all over the place to wait for an unpleasant appointment. Another hurdle to try and get past.
I spent the entire month of January in Florida, and I have to admit that most of it was good. We hardly fought, we both were sick, but we were away, and it was warm, and I was happier, at least while I was there. Then we came home, and I am not as happy. I hate the winter, even though this one is mild. I just don't want to be here anymore. I know I can't run away from reality, but it kind of feels like I leave a part of my old miserable life behind when I'm away, and feel more peaceful when I'm away from where the 3 years of hell have taken place. Here, at home, which never really feels like home anymore. Does any of this make sense? All I know is I wanted to stay there, but I had to come back home.
I missed my mom and my kitties. It's nice to see friends too.
So 2 months have gone by since my last post. These days I'm bitter and miserable. Not only do I miss my babies, and the few weeks that I was pregnant, that I will always grieve, but now I have to come to terms with the fact that I will be FOREVER CHILDLESS. GAME OVER!
I am angry, hopeless, helpless, miserable, depressed, in pain both emotionally and physically, and this is home. This is my life. As a woman, I feel defective, abnormal, and broken. Well I am, aren't I?
The doctors appointments never end, but now it is for other medical conditions unrelated to infertile hell.
I made it through the holidays of 2011. I was so busy planning to get the hell out of here and getting ready for our big trip right before New Years. DH decided to work on XMAS eve, so I grabbed mom and took a drive to Atlantic city for a 24 hour escape.
Before dinner, we got our hair done at the salon, and to my surprise the girl who does my hair was pregnant, hadn't noticed in the past, but couldn't help but notice this time. And so that was the first of my holiday presents, another knife to the heart. And she was opening up gifts from customers, BABY CLOTHES, HOW NICE!!!!!
We had a wonderful dinner at The Palm. I drank and I gambled. I didn't win. No surprise there. Eat, drink, gamble, be merry, right. It was good to get away. The crowd was unusual at the hotel, not very crowded thankfully, but of course there were still families around, need I say more?
Drove back home on Xmas day, and saw DH for a few hours. I shopped while I was away so that DH had presents to give me when I got back. Makes it easier for him, and keeps me distracted. The only problem with shopping for clothes is that I've never lost the baby/depression weight, and on the road that I'm on of eating/drinking, I probably never will.
Oh well, what's an extra 20lbs anyway? It's not like it will slow me down chasing after my imaginary toddler or anything like that, right? So I'm overweight, who cares? The truth is when you are depressed, it just makes it all worse, yet you can't find the motivation to control it.
I'm very cranky today as I write this post, I just got my period they now come every 5 weeks, that's the newest development in my life. Since stopping fertility treatments, my periods went from every 3 weeks for a couple of months, to every 5 weeks.
.
So this I guess is peri-menopause, another ugly reminder, that my life will be forever empty and that I am aging. Kicker is I can't even find a gynocologist that only does gyn. They all do OB. I refuse to ever have to sit in an office with smiling pregnant woman all over the place to wait for an unpleasant appointment. Another hurdle to try and get past.
I spent the entire month of January in Florida, and I have to admit that most of it was good. We hardly fought, we both were sick, but we were away, and it was warm, and I was happier, at least while I was there. Then we came home, and I am not as happy. I hate the winter, even though this one is mild. I just don't want to be here anymore. I know I can't run away from reality, but it kind of feels like I leave a part of my old miserable life behind when I'm away, and feel more peaceful when I'm away from where the 3 years of hell have taken place. Here, at home, which never really feels like home anymore. Does any of this make sense? All I know is I wanted to stay there, but I had to come back home.
I missed my mom and my kitties. It's nice to see friends too.
So 2 months have gone by since my last post. These days I'm bitter and miserable. Not only do I miss my babies, and the few weeks that I was pregnant, that I will always grieve, but now I have to come to terms with the fact that I will be FOREVER CHILDLESS. GAME OVER!
I am angry, hopeless, helpless, miserable, depressed, in pain both emotionally and physically, and this is home. This is my life. As a woman, I feel defective, abnormal, and broken. Well I am, aren't I?
The doctors appointments never end, but now it is for other medical conditions unrelated to infertile hell.
A year has gone by since my last post, not much has changed
So here I am, next week is Thanksgiving, 2 years since my pregnancy, and the best month of my life.
I am a year older. Since my last post, I lost one of my beloved cats at 7 years old, who died from, (irony at it's best), auto-immune hemalimic anemia, did I mispell it? I'm sure most people don't know what it means. It means that my poor Sebastian's immune system killed him by eating up all of his red blood cells. The only children I have are felines, and another one was taken from me.
We tried desparately to save him, 8 blood transfusions, and $14,000 later, he died after a 3 week fight.
My baby cat's immune system killed him, just as my immune system killed my 3 babies!
Boy, life sure has a twisted sense of, I don't even know what to call it, TORTURE!!!!
I am a year older, although I feel many years older. I have a very painful condition called Interstitial Cystitis. Here's another kicker, I'm certain it was caused by multiple pelvic trauma from the 11 IVF cycles I did.
What do I have to show for it? Interstitial Cystitis. Anyone who is interested in this horribly painful condition, feel free to look it up. It's too much to explain.
So next week is Thanksgiving and I am running away from home again, without my husband, dragging my mother to try and escape the demons that haunt me by distraction.
Next month I will spend the anniversary of my babies death on the beach in Florida on the day they have the Pearl Harbor Memorial Service, the same day as I found out my babies were dead.
I plan on attending and watching the memorial every year in honor of my beloved ones.
Not much more to share. I have not progressed much in the past year. I have just aged and feel twice as old as I am. My heart still aches constantly for the loss of my babies, my dreams, and my future.
I live my life each day, with no real plans for the future. I just try to distract myself from myself, if that makes any sense.
So a year later, not much to report. No happy story. Not much healing. Just trying to survive and accept what I've been dealt.
I haven't wanted to post anymore because it just brings back the bitterness, but the truth is, the bitterness is tucked deep inside screaming to come out.
I am a year older. Since my last post, I lost one of my beloved cats at 7 years old, who died from, (irony at it's best), auto-immune hemalimic anemia, did I mispell it? I'm sure most people don't know what it means. It means that my poor Sebastian's immune system killed him by eating up all of his red blood cells. The only children I have are felines, and another one was taken from me.
We tried desparately to save him, 8 blood transfusions, and $14,000 later, he died after a 3 week fight.
My baby cat's immune system killed him, just as my immune system killed my 3 babies!
Boy, life sure has a twisted sense of, I don't even know what to call it, TORTURE!!!!
I am a year older, although I feel many years older. I have a very painful condition called Interstitial Cystitis. Here's another kicker, I'm certain it was caused by multiple pelvic trauma from the 11 IVF cycles I did.
What do I have to show for it? Interstitial Cystitis. Anyone who is interested in this horribly painful condition, feel free to look it up. It's too much to explain.
So next week is Thanksgiving and I am running away from home again, without my husband, dragging my mother to try and escape the demons that haunt me by distraction.
Next month I will spend the anniversary of my babies death on the beach in Florida on the day they have the Pearl Harbor Memorial Service, the same day as I found out my babies were dead.
I plan on attending and watching the memorial every year in honor of my beloved ones.
Not much more to share. I have not progressed much in the past year. I have just aged and feel twice as old as I am. My heart still aches constantly for the loss of my babies, my dreams, and my future.
I live my life each day, with no real plans for the future. I just try to distract myself from myself, if that makes any sense.
So a year later, not much to report. No happy story. Not much healing. Just trying to survive and accept what I've been dealt.
I haven't wanted to post anymore because it just brings back the bitterness, but the truth is, the bitterness is tucked deep inside screaming to come out.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
I broke my promise, but finally here's a new post
The last few weeks have been so utterly painful. I have been depressed more than words can say. Alcohol is a wonderful distraction.
Last year, during thanksgiving I was happily pregnant, had seen all of the babies heartbeats, and my joy was beyond euphoria. This year is another story.
If everything had gone as it should have, I would have an infant by my side, and I would be posting to a very different type of blog. But this is my life, one of disappointment, misery, depression, and desperation.
Today I remember that my dreams are over, and my nightmare will never end.
In just a few weeks, it will be the one year anniversary of when I went to the high-risk AMA doctor to see my beautiful babies. I asked if it would be okay if I recorded on my cell phone the babies heart beats. Of course, was the answer with a smile.
That day, as I did every single day, I sang to my babies on the way to the appt. Each day I sang and talked to my babies in the morning on the way to work, and at the end of the day, on the way home. You see, I loved them more than any words could say, they were a part of me, part of my soul and my dreams.
I was deeply attached to the little beans, and I would have died for them if need be.
I had three children in my body, and I would do whatever it would take to protect them for the rest of their lives. Little did I know how short their lives would be!
Finally, they they did an ultrasound on my stomach. The girl was confused as to why she wasn't getting the information she needed. She said go and pee, we will do a vaginal ultrasound instead. I went to pee, still in my glory, awaiting the joy of seeing my babies on that giant screen TV, still amazingly happy and excited.
I came back and she did the vaginal ultrasound, and that's when I knew that my life would never ever be the same again. I saw my three babies. Each floating dead in their individual sacks. There was no noise, no heartbeats, no life. My dream was over, my babies were DEAD.
I was all alone, since a good friend of mine that was supposed to be by my side backed out of the appointment at the last minute due to work.
I was all alone, my babies were dead, and I had to drive myself home in hysterics.
I made it home that day, to my husband's surprise, and my own. We rushed down to the immunological specialist. He wanted to be sure that there was no mistake, and there wasn't, again, dead babies!!!!!!!!
Just a few days after I was weaned off of the medication to suppress my immune system, three strong healthy heartbeats had ceased. I didn't know that a few days earlier when I had a fever and I broke out in a rash on my arm, that all hell had broken loose. I did not know that not one baby would survive the fury of my immune system that treated my babies like cancer, and eliminated them, PERMANENTLY!!!!!
These days are filled with Vicoden, Vodka, tears, and anger. These days are filled will emptiness, loneliness, and the longing for my babies.
This past year I have realized who my TRUE friends are, and how most of my family are cowards, and weak, and pathetic.
This thanksgiving, I am thankful for the very few that have kept me alive, that have given me support and comfort, and made me strong enough to get through each day, as difficult as each day has been.
The truth is that if it wasn't for my mother, and not wanting to hurt her, I would have killed myself last December, because to be honest, life is pretty much a waste.
So here I am, almost a year later. Still alive, still suffering, still wondering why any fool would believe in God?
I hate the holidays, all they are is a reminder of what I have lost, and what I will never have.
To the friends who have stood by me, I will forever treasure you.
To the friends and family who have turned their backs on me, I will be sure to repay the favor.
I used to be the one to turn to for any crisis, for any support, for anything at all.
Those people in my life who have deserted me, I no longer have your back.
This is a bitter, angry post today.
How could anyone except anything better?
Last year, during thanksgiving I was happily pregnant, had seen all of the babies heartbeats, and my joy was beyond euphoria. This year is another story.
If everything had gone as it should have, I would have an infant by my side, and I would be posting to a very different type of blog. But this is my life, one of disappointment, misery, depression, and desperation.
Today I remember that my dreams are over, and my nightmare will never end.
In just a few weeks, it will be the one year anniversary of when I went to the high-risk AMA doctor to see my beautiful babies. I asked if it would be okay if I recorded on my cell phone the babies heart beats. Of course, was the answer with a smile.
That day, as I did every single day, I sang to my babies on the way to the appt. Each day I sang and talked to my babies in the morning on the way to work, and at the end of the day, on the way home. You see, I loved them more than any words could say, they were a part of me, part of my soul and my dreams.
I was deeply attached to the little beans, and I would have died for them if need be.
I had three children in my body, and I would do whatever it would take to protect them for the rest of their lives. Little did I know how short their lives would be!
Finally, they they did an ultrasound on my stomach. The girl was confused as to why she wasn't getting the information she needed. She said go and pee, we will do a vaginal ultrasound instead. I went to pee, still in my glory, awaiting the joy of seeing my babies on that giant screen TV, still amazingly happy and excited.
I came back and she did the vaginal ultrasound, and that's when I knew that my life would never ever be the same again. I saw my three babies. Each floating dead in their individual sacks. There was no noise, no heartbeats, no life. My dream was over, my babies were DEAD.
I was all alone, since a good friend of mine that was supposed to be by my side backed out of the appointment at the last minute due to work.
I was all alone, my babies were dead, and I had to drive myself home in hysterics.
I made it home that day, to my husband's surprise, and my own. We rushed down to the immunological specialist. He wanted to be sure that there was no mistake, and there wasn't, again, dead babies!!!!!!!!
Just a few days after I was weaned off of the medication to suppress my immune system, three strong healthy heartbeats had ceased. I didn't know that a few days earlier when I had a fever and I broke out in a rash on my arm, that all hell had broken loose. I did not know that not one baby would survive the fury of my immune system that treated my babies like cancer, and eliminated them, PERMANENTLY!!!!!
These days are filled with Vicoden, Vodka, tears, and anger. These days are filled will emptiness, loneliness, and the longing for my babies.
This past year I have realized who my TRUE friends are, and how most of my family are cowards, and weak, and pathetic.
This thanksgiving, I am thankful for the very few that have kept me alive, that have given me support and comfort, and made me strong enough to get through each day, as difficult as each day has been.
The truth is that if it wasn't for my mother, and not wanting to hurt her, I would have killed myself last December, because to be honest, life is pretty much a waste.
So here I am, almost a year later. Still alive, still suffering, still wondering why any fool would believe in God?
I hate the holidays, all they are is a reminder of what I have lost, and what I will never have.
To the friends who have stood by me, I will forever treasure you.
To the friends and family who have turned their backs on me, I will be sure to repay the favor.
I used to be the one to turn to for any crisis, for any support, for anything at all.
Those people in my life who have deserted me, I no longer have your back.
This is a bitter, angry post today.
How could anyone except anything better?
Friday, October 14, 2011
The horrible anniversary dates are coming! And so is halloween, boo :(
It's the middle of October and about the time that I started IVF #10 last year, the one that got me pregnant. It had been about 5 months since the last BFN IVF, and I had spent the summer enjoying myself as much as possible. It was a good summer! Until I lost 2 very dear people to me in one week in the month of August. One of the losses was one of my biggest supporters. She dreamed of me having a baby she would someday hold. She herself was battling cancer, yet worried out me and my dream. She was a 2nd mom. Losing this incredible woman absolutely broke my heart.
During the month of October as I was cycling/injecting etc., I lost a favorite aunt. This was about a week before my egg retrieval. In the span of 3 months I lost 3 people that I loved dearly.
I knew this would be my last IVF, I was done putting myself through the anguish and torture, always for nothing. And then, who knows what will be the outcome of using these hormones, so many times, for 3 years, besides gaining weight? The fear of cancer always loomed in the background, but I ignored it, because it would have been worth anything, to have my dream, a baby.
The night before my blood test to check my beta, I put away all of the medications, knowing that I would no longer need them. I was done. It was over! I expected another BFN, and then it would be time to move on to my new childless life. Somehow, I had begun to start accepting that this would be the case, and I planned on starting to try and adjust, and accept my future.
I planned on doing as much as I could. I would travel, party, excercise, and enjoy my life to the fullest as someone who didn't have loads of responsibility (parenting) could do. I'd show the world how much fun I could have!
That was the plan. I would survive. I had no choice, this is how my life would be, and it really sucked, but I was going to try and make the best of a horrible situation.
I had the transfer of my 3 little embryos the last week of October.
I have hated Halloween for the past few years now, you know, the years of anguishing infertility treatments. I just can't stand seeing all of the cute little kids all dressed up to collect their candy.
I try to be away, or make sure I'm not home each year.
It's really a shame because I used to enjoy giving out candy at my front door, and seeing all of the cute costumes. Infertility prevents you from enjoying lots of things, and the holidays are definitely a major issue.
Infertility robs you of your self and your soul. Especially if you are one of the women that is "left behind", that never has success. I used to have a support system of a lot of other infertile women, that suffered right along with me. Most of them have since moved on. No one wants to be around the failure. Not when they are actually living their dream. Each one of them has had success. Who needs a buzz kill or a reminder? Their lives have progressed, and mine has not. Little by little they have drifted away from me. Quite convenient, isn't it?
I was always truly happy for each and every one of them when they finally did conceive. I supported them as much as possible, more than most people would, especially in my situation. That support was hardly ever recipricated. It's amazing how absolutely selfish human beings really are.
I cannot tell you how many of them I have helped achieve their dream. Lucky them. I have learned a lot during this journey through hell. I will save this rant for another post.
Back to the story:
The first week of November, on the anniversary of my father's death, I went in for what I thought was the last blood test. I will never forget that day. I was running late to work and stressing.
I gave very direct instructions to my doctor that day. DO NOT CALL ME before 4pm. I will be at work. I cannot receive the dreaded news while I am at work. I don't want to fall apart at work. Notify me after I leave please, after 4pm.
I remember having some hot flashes that day, I figured because this was really the end. It was over and it was time for me to give in to defeat. I didn't take a home pregnancy test this cycle because I didn't want to upset myself any sooner than I had to. Reality day had finally come and I was ready to hear the bad news, for the 10th time, not including all of the IUI negatives.
Then it happened, an email on my blackberry from the Dr. Why was he emailing me during work hours?
I opened it. I read it. I almost passed out, literally. It said, "Brace yourself, ok, you are pregnant!"
I told my co-worker I had to step out. I ran into the staircase and cried hysterically, tears of joy for the first time. I was shaking. I really thought I would faint. I called the doctor. He was cautiously optimistic and told me that I would get another blood test in a couple of days to check the numbers. He told me that at my age, the end of my 44th year, the chances of miscarrage were at about 50 percent. If we could get past the heartbeat stage, hopefully the pregnancy would last.
All I could think about was that I was really pregnant, for the first time in my life. When I had decided to give up. I must have been dreaming. I walked back to my office after speaking with my friend's daughter, (the one who had passed away, my 2nd mom) and told her the news. We both screamed! It had been exactly 10 weeks since she had passed away, and the anniversary of my dad's death. This was big. There was significance I was sure.
I think that day in the first week of November was clearly the best day of my entire life, but it wouldn't last for long.
I went back to the office, hiding my very big secret, it was not to be shared, not yet.
I have to stop now because I'm starting to get really upset.
I promise to continue the story with another post very soon. Maybe even tonight, after a few drinks.
During the month of October as I was cycling/injecting etc., I lost a favorite aunt. This was about a week before my egg retrieval. In the span of 3 months I lost 3 people that I loved dearly.
I knew this would be my last IVF, I was done putting myself through the anguish and torture, always for nothing. And then, who knows what will be the outcome of using these hormones, so many times, for 3 years, besides gaining weight? The fear of cancer always loomed in the background, but I ignored it, because it would have been worth anything, to have my dream, a baby.
The night before my blood test to check my beta, I put away all of the medications, knowing that I would no longer need them. I was done. It was over! I expected another BFN, and then it would be time to move on to my new childless life. Somehow, I had begun to start accepting that this would be the case, and I planned on starting to try and adjust, and accept my future.
I planned on doing as much as I could. I would travel, party, excercise, and enjoy my life to the fullest as someone who didn't have loads of responsibility (parenting) could do. I'd show the world how much fun I could have!
That was the plan. I would survive. I had no choice, this is how my life would be, and it really sucked, but I was going to try and make the best of a horrible situation.
I had the transfer of my 3 little embryos the last week of October.
I have hated Halloween for the past few years now, you know, the years of anguishing infertility treatments. I just can't stand seeing all of the cute little kids all dressed up to collect their candy.
I try to be away, or make sure I'm not home each year.
It's really a shame because I used to enjoy giving out candy at my front door, and seeing all of the cute costumes. Infertility prevents you from enjoying lots of things, and the holidays are definitely a major issue.
Infertility robs you of your self and your soul. Especially if you are one of the women that is "left behind", that never has success. I used to have a support system of a lot of other infertile women, that suffered right along with me. Most of them have since moved on. No one wants to be around the failure. Not when they are actually living their dream. Each one of them has had success. Who needs a buzz kill or a reminder? Their lives have progressed, and mine has not. Little by little they have drifted away from me. Quite convenient, isn't it?
I was always truly happy for each and every one of them when they finally did conceive. I supported them as much as possible, more than most people would, especially in my situation. That support was hardly ever recipricated. It's amazing how absolutely selfish human beings really are.
I cannot tell you how many of them I have helped achieve their dream. Lucky them. I have learned a lot during this journey through hell. I will save this rant for another post.
Back to the story:
The first week of November, on the anniversary of my father's death, I went in for what I thought was the last blood test. I will never forget that day. I was running late to work and stressing.
I gave very direct instructions to my doctor that day. DO NOT CALL ME before 4pm. I will be at work. I cannot receive the dreaded news while I am at work. I don't want to fall apart at work. Notify me after I leave please, after 4pm.
I remember having some hot flashes that day, I figured because this was really the end. It was over and it was time for me to give in to defeat. I didn't take a home pregnancy test this cycle because I didn't want to upset myself any sooner than I had to. Reality day had finally come and I was ready to hear the bad news, for the 10th time, not including all of the IUI negatives.
Then it happened, an email on my blackberry from the Dr. Why was he emailing me during work hours?
I opened it. I read it. I almost passed out, literally. It said, "Brace yourself, ok, you are pregnant!"
I told my co-worker I had to step out. I ran into the staircase and cried hysterically, tears of joy for the first time. I was shaking. I really thought I would faint. I called the doctor. He was cautiously optimistic and told me that I would get another blood test in a couple of days to check the numbers. He told me that at my age, the end of my 44th year, the chances of miscarrage were at about 50 percent. If we could get past the heartbeat stage, hopefully the pregnancy would last.
All I could think about was that I was really pregnant, for the first time in my life. When I had decided to give up. I must have been dreaming. I walked back to my office after speaking with my friend's daughter, (the one who had passed away, my 2nd mom) and told her the news. We both screamed! It had been exactly 10 weeks since she had passed away, and the anniversary of my dad's death. This was big. There was significance I was sure.
I think that day in the first week of November was clearly the best day of my entire life, but it wouldn't last for long.
I went back to the office, hiding my very big secret, it was not to be shared, not yet.
I have to stop now because I'm starting to get really upset.
I promise to continue the story with another post very soon. Maybe even tonight, after a few drinks.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
After a few weeks off, time for some new rants/complaints/ and more venting.
I'm the type that tries to run away from the pain. I try to stay distracted as often as possible. I took a break for a few weeks from posting, and realized that I was long overdue to vent some more.
I have been planning vacations/escapes as often as possible, to run away from myself and reality.
I just returned home last week from a cruise that was supposed to go to Bermuda. Hurricane Katya was heading towards Bermuda so the ship's destination was changed. Instead we ended up in Florida and the Bahamas. I guess I shouldn't complain. We escaped some bad weather during that week, and we were on vacation. The sky was mostly sunny, except for the day we went to Florida.
The Bahamas was ok. There was an issue which was the main excursion to the Atlantis at Paradise Island. It is a quite mystical place and DH really wanted to go, but I ABSOLUTELY refused. Why?
I bet anyone that knows the resort and infertility knows why.
Because there will be thousands of little kids/babies enjoying the place, therefore torturing/punishing me again.
I have no desire to watch the faces of the little critters enjoying themselves while their smiling parents enjoy the delighted smiles and giggles that their little ones express.
I'M SO JEALOUS IT MIGHT KILL ME!
So NO, I will not go back there. And once again, I have to let DH down and not allow him to enjoy another activity/visit that he desires to do. SORRY.
So we went to Cable Beach. Beautiful, quiet, and NO KIDS :) Can you feel the smile :) It was completely awesome. Very peaceful, great weather, and we actually made some friends which was nice.
Towards the end of my cruise, the last day at sea, after my daily dose of alcoholic beverages, I went to the bathroom one afternoon, (probably about the 10th time of the day, and it was only about 2pm). There was a woman who had just come out of a stall and decided she needed to vent, and I was the only one there.
Let me give you some information about this particular cruise. There were people who flew from Europe, Cananda, California, etc., and most people were very dissappointed with the change in itinerary. We were all dissappointed. We were supposed to be going to Bermuda. We ended up in the Bahamas and Florida. No comparison. Okay, done.
Back to the lady in the bathroom. She definitely picked the wrong lady to vent to.
Her: I can't believe this. I am so bloated. We were supposed to go to Bermuda. All I can do now is eat. I feel so bloated, especially since I just had a baby 9 months ago! Ugh!
Did she really just say that TO ME?
Me: Well, we've had some great weather regardless, and at least you are on vacation. So you just had a baby 9 months ago? What is your baby's name?
Her: Lauren
Me: Do you have any idea how lucky you are?
Her: I know, I have a few friends that have been trying to have kids and haven't been able to.
Me: That's right. Do you see the necklace on my neck? These three hearts are for the triplets that I lost in December after my 10th IVF. You know what? 500 trips to Bermuda would never make up for the baby that I don't have. You are very blessed to have Lauren.
Her: I'm sorry. You are so right. I am lucky.
Me: Be happy you have Lauren to go home to after this vacation.
And then I left the bathroom and felt very smug to have put the bitch in her place. BLOATED! ASSHOLE!
I tell you there was quite a sense of satisfaction on my end. And then I went down the kids waterslide again afterwards, and before another drink.
So now I'm back home and getting ready to pack for another small trip with my mom for a few days. Need to get away again. Always need to get away.
BTW: Heather, thank you for your comment on my last post. Hope your journey is looking up.
I have much more to vent about, but I'm saving it for my next post. I flew off the handle about something else this week and really went off on my mom which of course I feel terrible about. It sucks being a miserable bitch, but unfortunately, it's who I am right now. Maybe someday, it will get better. Maybe not!
I have been planning vacations/escapes as often as possible, to run away from myself and reality.
I just returned home last week from a cruise that was supposed to go to Bermuda. Hurricane Katya was heading towards Bermuda so the ship's destination was changed. Instead we ended up in Florida and the Bahamas. I guess I shouldn't complain. We escaped some bad weather during that week, and we were on vacation. The sky was mostly sunny, except for the day we went to Florida.
The Bahamas was ok. There was an issue which was the main excursion to the Atlantis at Paradise Island. It is a quite mystical place and DH really wanted to go, but I ABSOLUTELY refused. Why?
I bet anyone that knows the resort and infertility knows why.
Because there will be thousands of little kids/babies enjoying the place, therefore torturing/punishing me again.
I have no desire to watch the faces of the little critters enjoying themselves while their smiling parents enjoy the delighted smiles and giggles that their little ones express.
I'M SO JEALOUS IT MIGHT KILL ME!
So NO, I will not go back there. And once again, I have to let DH down and not allow him to enjoy another activity/visit that he desires to do. SORRY.
So we went to Cable Beach. Beautiful, quiet, and NO KIDS :) Can you feel the smile :) It was completely awesome. Very peaceful, great weather, and we actually made some friends which was nice.
Towards the end of my cruise, the last day at sea, after my daily dose of alcoholic beverages, I went to the bathroom one afternoon, (probably about the 10th time of the day, and it was only about 2pm). There was a woman who had just come out of a stall and decided she needed to vent, and I was the only one there.
Let me give you some information about this particular cruise. There were people who flew from Europe, Cananda, California, etc., and most people were very dissappointed with the change in itinerary. We were all dissappointed. We were supposed to be going to Bermuda. We ended up in the Bahamas and Florida. No comparison. Okay, done.
Back to the lady in the bathroom. She definitely picked the wrong lady to vent to.
Her: I can't believe this. I am so bloated. We were supposed to go to Bermuda. All I can do now is eat. I feel so bloated, especially since I just had a baby 9 months ago! Ugh!
Did she really just say that TO ME?
Me: Well, we've had some great weather regardless, and at least you are on vacation. So you just had a baby 9 months ago? What is your baby's name?
Her: Lauren
Me: Do you have any idea how lucky you are?
Her: I know, I have a few friends that have been trying to have kids and haven't been able to.
Me: That's right. Do you see the necklace on my neck? These three hearts are for the triplets that I lost in December after my 10th IVF. You know what? 500 trips to Bermuda would never make up for the baby that I don't have. You are very blessed to have Lauren.
Her: I'm sorry. You are so right. I am lucky.
Me: Be happy you have Lauren to go home to after this vacation.
And then I left the bathroom and felt very smug to have put the bitch in her place. BLOATED! ASSHOLE!
I tell you there was quite a sense of satisfaction on my end. And then I went down the kids waterslide again afterwards, and before another drink.
So now I'm back home and getting ready to pack for another small trip with my mom for a few days. Need to get away again. Always need to get away.
BTW: Heather, thank you for your comment on my last post. Hope your journey is looking up.
I have much more to vent about, but I'm saving it for my next post. I flew off the handle about something else this week and really went off on my mom which of course I feel terrible about. It sucks being a miserable bitch, but unfortunately, it's who I am right now. Maybe someday, it will get better. Maybe not!
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