Squashed…

October 28, 2009

That’s how I feel.  I feel squashed.  Hopes, dreams, desires, everything just feels squashed.  I can’t even breathe right now, I’m just so defeated and deflated.  I continue to try and find options for financing for adoption and I think that I’m out of options.  A personal loan is the only thing I can think of that I haven’t tried and no one is giving personal loans.  Hell, Hubby couldn’t even get student loans this year without his mother cosigning for him and they used to hand that money out like it was prostitute advertisements on the Vegas Strip.  My last ditch effort was trying to take a loan against my life insurance policy and I was denied (haven’t had the policy long enough).

I haven’t felt this bad in a while.  When the world around you seems to be moving forward and you feel stuck, it’s hard not to feel bad.  I hate feeling sorry for myself, I hate it.  I’m trying to be proactive and do something to ensure that the boys will have brothers and sisters.  I’m trying but I can’t do anything right.  I can’t make money grow on trees or my fucked up genes split properly and aligned with each other so as to produce a beautiful sibling for A and B. 

Compounding this is that I want to be happy for all of my pregnant friends but the ones that haven’t had losses, it’s hard to get excited for them.  I know that sounds screwed up.  I totally understand that some of you might read that and think, “what a bitch.”  Those women get to be part of a club that I will never belong to…”the blissfully ignorant shiny new baby mommy club.”  Not me, I will never get that again.  Fine, I’m a bitch.   And that’s totally not fair to those women because I would hate for anyone to feel as bad as I do right now.  I wouldn’t wish this on anyone – not my worst enemy…so I’m considerate and sweet and post congratulations and send cards and gifts when all I really want to do it scream, “I’M SO PISSED OFF AT THE UNIVERSE RIGHT NOW I CAN’T STAND IT!!!!”

I think to myself, “I really want to be pregnant again and you know, this will be THE month it happens” and I smile like a jackass.  And then negative me counters with, “get pregnant all you want, honey, you will never make it to 40 weeks – hell, you won’t make it past 8 weeks.”  And there are lots of tears alone in the car.  What do I do with negative me?  She’s right, that’s the thing, she’s right.  All I know is that I fear getting pregnant but I want to be pregnant more than anything but one thing – I just want my boys back.

Spiraling…

October 26, 2009

Yup, that’s me.  I’m spiraling into sadness once again.   This is just another month where I’m plotting and planning when Hubby and I are supposed to do ‘it.”  Yet again, I think “I shouldn’t have to be worrying about this….I should have two little boys to fuss over for Halloween.”

But I don’t.

The unconfirmed loss of last month has left me reeling…again….but why?  Why shouldn’t I be used to these losses?  Realistically, this is going to be our life – our reality –  until we conceive and carrying again past 23 weeks, why am I not used to that fact yet?  These feelings of grief and loss are exacerbated by the fact that I found out we can’t refinance our home to pay for adoption costs.  Apparently home prices have dropped in the area and we don’t have enough equity to take out a loan to cover the costs of adoption.  What a surprise that something didn’t work out for us….I’m shocked (that’s sarcasm in case you are new to my blog – nothing goes the way it’s supposed to for me – the universe hates me). 

Oh and there may be a third thing contributing to my downward spiral….On Friday, I tried to have a conversation with my mother about adoption and for some fucked up reason, she asked me if I was pregnant.  Sidebar: she makes it sound like an accusation when she asks….”Are you preg-a-nant?”  She sounds out the syllables just like that.  It makes me feel like she’s disapproving of me….this is the woman who said, “I don’t know how I feel about that…” when she bullied me into telling her I was pregnant with the boys.  Anywho, why the fuck would I be talking to her about adoption if I was pregnant and then I remembered, I had been pregnant up until Monday.  Just a little bit anyway so prehaps it was a valid question.  Still, she switched the subject after I said no and wanted to discuss her dog.  I try to have a relationship with her but really, I’m just being polite now…I really feel like she doesn’t want to hear anything of substance.  It’s strange, I used to tell her everything…

I want so badly to be pregnant again.  I have a myriad of friends who are pregnant – some getting ready to deliver any day now.  I feel so angry and hurt and left out and why?  This shouldn’t be new to me…this is where I’ve been since April 8th, 2008.  I should be used to standing in the shadows, used to the fact that I envy people who are pregnant, I should be used to disappointment.

I feel like such a disappointment.

is over.  Yup.  Yesterday morning.  I was sort of surprised but not really.  The nausea went away on Saturday and my breasts stopped hurting Sunday morning .  I had one of those moments (I call them “Sidney moments” after our puppy who, upon learning something or seeing something fascinating, cocks his head to the side and perks his ears up…sort of like, “huh.  Oh.  Okay.”).  It was a Sidney moment because I sat in bed Sunday and thought, “Hubby was right, we were pregnant.”  As a result of the BT, I’m guessing the embryo grabbed on (I did have implantation spotting which is why the negative test was so confusing) and then just didn’t have the genetic material necessary to keep growing and therefore, didn’t produce enough HCG to show up on a test.  Classic BT.  Despite what the movies tell you, it is possible to be slightly pregnant.  This is my 4th or 5th time proving that fact…I’ve lost count.  How much does that suck?

But, glass half full me is also happy that I clearly ovulated and got pregnant again.  I was worried since I hadn’t been pregnant since February – the Clomid experiment produced nothing and a 42 day cycle is not normal for me.  Only time I’ve had a cycle that long was when I was pregnant.  Hubby said the same thing, he was ready to call in the RE out of fear that something as wrong.  Good to know we already know what was wrong, it’s “just” the BT. 

Also, anyone else starting to notice a pattern here?  I seem to get pregnant in the Fall.  The boys were conceived in November, 2007.  I had two confirmed pregnancies in November and December 2008 and now this one.  Maybe I’m more like a bear than a panda.  I want to eat, get fat, get pregnant and hibernate until the cub comes.  I really, really want that….Prehaps it’s my love of Halloween…I get happy with the approach of my favorite holiday and I’m sure my mood has something to do with my ability to conceive…

Whatever.  There is always next month, right?  That seems to be the story of my life…next month, and then the next month, and then the next.

And So I Wait…

September 30, 2009

I went to book club last night not realizing that one of our members, who is very pregnant would be there.  I backed out of book club at her house because I just couldn’t deal and then the next month, Hubby was out of town and I couldn’t get there and let the dogs out after work all at the same time.  Plus book club was the week before the boys due date and I just couldn’t do it.  I can only do what I can do, remember?  I have managed to avoid her until last night.  Honestly, I just simply forgot that she would be there.

So I sat at the far end of the table, in the corner, sandwiched between my people.  K on one side, H on the other, R on the other side of K.  I felt stupid that I needed to feel safe and secure – she’s a damn pregnant woman, not an axe murderer.  But I didn’t want to sit next to her and stare at her huge belly, knowing that I am still waiting for mine.  My tummy never got to be that big (despite the repeatedly nasty comments made by my mother – my tummy at 5 months was probably about the size of most women at 7 months but there were two little boys in there).  My tummy might never get to be that big.  I’m waiting for just a chance to get that big.  I feel like that’s all I do, every month…just wait.

There was the inevitable baby talk since R had her baby a month ago but for the most part, we talked about current events, things going on with everyone – particularly a legal situation with H that was, thankfully, finally resolved and hopefully, she finds some peace.

And we laughed.  A lot.  And loudly.  I needed to laugh loudly and a lot.

Neverending Grief

September 25, 2009

So last nights’ “Grey’s Anatomy” was all about grief.  One of the main characters, “George,” ended last season by getting hit by a bus and was unrecognizable until minutes before the finale ended.  The premiere showed “McDreamy” unable to repair the damage to George’s brain and the decision is made to call his mother and find out if he is an organ donor.  The hospital is collectively devastated.

The voice over talks about the 5 stages of grief, which I think all of us lost baby parents can agree, doesn’t occur in stages but waves, each one overlapping the other at various times and intervals.  I’ve accepted and bargained, felt guilty and angry, hell, I’ve even denied it happened (then of course, I wake up).  Each character was supposed to represent the various stages of grief.

But the phrase that resonated most with me was something that the character “Meredith” said.  She said:

“The minute you think you’re over it, it starts all over again.”

That’s where I’m at.  I went to the bathroom at work yesterday and sat in the stall and cried.  I hadn’t done that in months – cried at work.  I’m even out of practice.  Used to be, I could cry looking down, with my head in a horizontal position and not ruin my eye makeup…yesterday, mascara was all smeared.  I’m still so mad, still so sad, still so angry.  I want to scream as loud as I can, “what did I do to deserve the death of my little boys?!!??  What?!!?  Why did this happen to me?!!?”  After 18 months, just when I think I’m okay, the grief starts in again.  Nothing new has happened, it’s still the same loss, I’m still the same me I was after the boys died.  Why am I not getting any better?

The difference between me and the characters of “Grey’s Anatomy” is, the accident wasn’t real, their friend didn’t really die, they get to yell “CUT!” and it’s over.  I don’t.  There is no “CUT!” for me.  This is going to be my life forever.  I’m going to always grieve, the boys will always have died, this is my life.

I’m overwhelmed by that fact.

Weather always effects my mood…cloudy and dark makes me sad and sullen.  It’s the depression, I’m sure.

My insurance coverage changed in August.  I knew my employer had to make some adjustments to continue to be able to afford to cover us but I had no idea that it would effect the mental health coverage in the policy.  That’s right gang, no more therapy unless we want to pay for it and with Hubby being laid off, it’s not in the budget.  We might try and do 2 sessions a month once we get a little more “in the black” but right now, it’s not going to work out.  Nothing I can do about it except hope for health care reform that will include a mental health option.  So I’m sullen and depressed with no outlet…yeah.

We have to give up our boot camp sessions too.  We’ve been going 3 times a week for the last 5 months and it’s been great.  I haven’t really lost weight but I’ve toned up a lot.  I’m feeling confident that I can continue to work out on my own.  I have hand weights, a jump rope and 3 dogs who love to go for long and fast walks….I just need to make myself accountable to get up every other morning and go.  We just can’t afford to spent the money anymore.

Which brings me to a realization I had yesterday.  I think I’ve gone “soft.”  I used to not have the luxury of therapy and trainers and ready-made food and fancy coffee.  Since our income increased several years ago, I’ve gotten accustomed to “the good life” – which, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy but I’ve lost my ability to survive.  Part of that has to do with losing the boys – I’ve lost my will to survive, not just the ability to do so.  I think, at some point, I just decided I would float along until I got pregnant again – maybe in the hopes that would make “it” all okay and give me more of a sense of purpose.  I don’t know.  Until a couple of days ago, I was feeling good.  I felt confident that we would be having another baby soon.  I was hopeful, I was almost cheerful, even slightly happy.  But that happiness, like my pregnancies, seemed to end as quickly as it started.  I’m filled with doubt – have I ovulated yet, did we “do it” enough, is this “our month.”  So much doubt and fear and sadness…almost overwhelming…

Maybe I just need to sack up, stop feeling sorry for myself, stop feeling bad about myself and focus on the good things in life, things I want to accomplish.  It’s so hard to do though.  I know you other lost baby mamas and daddas understand this.  It all comes back to that one phrase…”I’m sorry, I’m not seeing a heartbeat.”  It resonates with me constantly.  It effects everything I do.

Looks like a 90% chance of rain today.

Cost/Benefit Analysis

September 10, 2009

Hubby and I had our weekly session with the therapist last night.  We talked about how I was done with the Clomid and Hubby voiced his concern that because I said I was done with the Clomid that I was giving up on everything all together.  Would I move on to injectables?  Would I see another RE, maybe someone over at Duke?  He was very upset with me when I said I would but I know they can’t do anything for me.  He thinks I’m being negative and giving up.  I’m not, I swear it.

There is nothing that anyone can do for my translocated chromosome that has a better chance of producing a living baby than us trying to conceive naturally.  IVF with PGD has only a 20% success rate.  We do better than that on our own.  There is egg donation but that is $17,000 and I have no idea how much insurance would cover and what if that doesn’t work?  Success rate there is like in the 30s, I think…That would mean REALLY no money for adoption because we put our whole basket in with the eggs…

That being said, I requested an appointment with Duke Fertility Clinic.  I don’t even DARE to hope that someone there would attempt to think outside the box, using that two hundred thousand dollar education to try and come up with another possible solution.  I have a feeling they are going to tell us, “you can’t change genetics.”  That is, if they are even up to speed with what RBT is…I’m tired of educating people who are supposed to be specialists in this field about what the hell is wrong with me….from now on, I direct them to my blog…I’ll go with an open mind for Hubby.

I guess what I am saying is that I’m finally resigned to sit back and just continue to do what we have been doing.  I can’t see running around trying to make something happen with all of this outside medical intervention when that’s not what got us the boys.  Me and Hubby, we made the boys.  No one else.  Just us.  I’ve accepted that no one is going to make this happen but me and Hubby.  No one has the magic pill, no one has the perfect egg, no one has a check for $15,000.  I have great friends who are supportive and understanding and I’m so grateful for them but in the end, no one is going to hand me what I want – a baby with Hubby.

But do not be mistaken, that doesn’t mean I’m giving up.  In fact, it’s the complete opposite of giving up.  I’m doing an emotional cost/benefit analysis.  I can throw my hope behind Hubby and I.  I can’t throw it behind Dr. S, UNC, Clomid, IVF, egg donation, Duke  or anyone else….I’ve got limited amounts of hope and there is just not enough to go around…

I choose me and Hubby.