Kim's Journey To Motherhood

A Start

Last night I was the self-appointed Halloween candy czar at The House.  Mr. CVD came over and we ordered pizza and he made fun of me and others and played with Siri on my phone.  It was nice and relaxing, even though it wasn’t the typical veg out in front of the TV relaxation I could use right about now. 

When he left, there were still a few kids coming by, so I continued to sit outside. Soon thereafter, the neighbors from across the street came over to chat.  We don’t often get to talk for any length of time and it was nice to catch up with them.  I really want to have neighbors that we can do things with and enjoy and they expressed the same thing, so it was all cool.

I noticed it fairly quickly and it confirmed an odd feeling I had for the past couple of months.  She is pregnant.  She says she is due December 17th (my mother’s birthday), but she honestly looks way smaller than that, so it’s a surprise I even noticed it from across the street before. I ended up mentioning the miscarriage during part of the conversation and even though I know it makes people uncomfortable, I didn’t allow myself to censor too much because it’s my truth and my life to share. 

But the odd thing was that even while we were talking to them and after they left, I didn’t have that usual “I’m so jealous I cannot see straight” type moment.  I was genuinely happy for them.  In fact, the first and only thing  I told The Mister about it afterwards was that it was sad that we weren’t having the twins for another reason—they’d have a friend across the street a month apart from them.  It wasn’t like a very sad moment, it was just a realization that things had happened that way and there was no changing it. Like when you order something off the menu and realize there was something way better as a special that you didn’t order. 

And that’s when I realized I think I’m in a much different place of hurt and healing than I have been before.  I think this was the first time I was able to think about the twins, let alone talk about them (however brief), without tearing up.  It’s not that I’m not sad about it and it’s not that I don’t wish we were in their place…it’s just I don’t feel so damn angry. 

I finally get to go back to the doctor on Friday to see if we can get this cycle started.  Just having a game plan is going to impact my life in so many good ways.  But at least I know that I’ve let go of some of the anger now.  Or at least I’m able to control it better. 

No matter what the case may be, it’s a start. 

Another day…

The number of people on Facebook that have gotten knocked up and had their kids in the time we’ve been trying is just insanity.  Some days I can shrug it off.  Other days I want to cry in a corner.

Not fair, Universe.  Not fair. 

I really do wish…

…that I’d stop being jealous of people with babies

…that I’d stop cringing at every Facebook pregnancy announcement

…that I’d stop looking at baby bumps with envy

…that I could imagine my life without infertility treatments

…that I would stop being so bitter when I encounter people who have had no trouble getting pregnant

…that I could erase my irrational animosity for those who have gone through infertility, but haven’t had to deal with IVF, miscarriage, Male Factor Infertility or the like

…that I could get back all of the time I’ve spent searching Google for answers

…that I could stop checking to see where I’d be in my pregnancies if I hadn’t miscarried

…that I could put into words how this whole experience has changed me

But most of all I wish that even if I can’t do any of this, that one day I can be content with wherever the journey takes me…whether it’s the destination I chose or not. 

Boats Against The Current

I’ve been better lately with those feelings of jealousy.  There are days when the sight of a pregnant woman will drive me nuts.  But those days aren’t everyday.  I am generally starting to loosen my death-grip on that kind of emotion. 

As much as possible.

There are some people that I know, mostly from the internet but some in real life, that got pregnant around the time I did (within a month or so).  And as I see their pregnancies progress, I can’t hold back on those feelings.  It seems like those pregnancies in particular sting the worst.  I’ll see posts online on Facebook or Twitter or their blogs and I’ll just get this heartbroken feeling.  That’s what I was supposed to be doing…posting about where I was in my pregnancy, not mourning the girls that never were.  Three months ago I found out I was pregnant.  Two months ago I found out I was having twins.  Seven weeks ago I found out the twins had stopped developing and their hearts had stopped beating.  That’s how I measure my time…not in trimesters, but in remembrances. 

But too much time can be spent on what could have been and never was.  Too much emotion.  Too much concern. 

Today is officially CD1.  After the progesterone shot on Friday, I actually started my period on Saturday.  But then it stopped.  It was there in spirit, though, with cramps and exhaustion and moodiness. (Word to the wise, having a period after not having one for five months is NOT fun.)  It wasn’t until this morning that it started again in earnest.  After a phone consultation with the nurse, we decided today should be CD1.  (Well, she did.) 

This means that today is the first day of the rest of my life.  And all that crap. 

Wednesday morning I will go in, get my blood drawn, get prodded with an ultrasound wand and start this whole crazy thing back up again. 

There is no emotion that aptly captures what I am feeling.  There is no Hallmark card to send me that really gets at these mixed emotions.  There is nothing that I can even think of to tell myself to make it easier. 

But if I had to try, this is what I would say:  it’s a mixture of trying hard to let go of my grief and being excited to move forward, but feeling slightly guilty over this excitement and completely anxious.  It’s like dreading the final exams, but being excited to graduate.  It’s like knowing exactly how hard it is to run a marathon, but craving that finish line feeling. 

I have to keep reminding myself that moving forward is doing no disrespect to the twin girls that never were.  It’s just opening myself up to the love they want to send forth with their fellow embryos.  I think if anyone is pushing me to move forward, it is them. 

One of my favorite books, The Great Gatsby, has the best ending lines of any book ever written and, in many ways, it really sums things up better than any words I could put forth…

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

So…blech.

I know this blech feeling is probably due in large part to the weather sucking big time lately, but I can’t seem to shake it.  I have moments of feeling decent and then it turns into this frustrated and gray feeling that I can’t shake.  I want to punch someone, but I’m sure that it wouldn’t help.  I’d probably just end up injuring myself.

So….there is this work conference at the end of June.  It’s not a big deal at all.  Except here’s the thing:  originally, my co-worker and I were supposed to be going together.  Then, abruptly, my boss decided that we don’t have money for two of us to go so one of us “has” to go and report back.  Since my co-worker just had a baby and has two kids, guess who is getting volunteered to go?  Well, that’s all fine and dandy, but my issue is this:  how is that going to affect the FET.  So I put a call into the nurse today and of course she’s not in again until tomorrow or Thursday.  And Thursday is the day I’m supposed to start back on the prometrium to get this whole mess started. 

Here are my thoughts:

• First of all, I’m not doing jack squat until we get those karotyping results in.  That means that unless she calls me on Thursday and says that here are the results and everything is good to try again, I’m not starting the prometrium. 
• Secondly, I’m kind of irritated that my co-worker’s baby is now the focal point of our work issue.  I thought it would be better in terms of this jealousy I can’t control when the baby was born, but when shit like this happens it just makes it that much worse.  (It also doesn’t help that my boss has made a big deal about co-worker coming back, thus making me feel like I didn’t pull my own weight when I totally did.) 
• Thirdly, I have half a mind to postpone the FET anyhow, which is probably what will have to be done to accommodate this damn conference.  But in all other aspects, I’m not ready.  I haven’t started eating properly in earnest (though I am doing much better than I was) and that’s a big thing.  And while part of me is ready, I think part of me needs just a couple more weeks. Things were much better in my mind when we were starting this process in June, not in May. 
• Fourthly, I’d really like to have another job (which was a suggestion by Ms. MM when this work stuff just started getting more and more ridiculous), but unless I find another position at my current employer, I lose my FMLA eligibility and then if I do get pregnant, I get screwed on my leave.  So that’s not an option.  I’m not miserable here like I used to be, but I agree with her that this stuff is unacceptable.  
• Fifthly, I’m kind of scared to ask The Mister his feelings on the timing.  I don’t know why; it’s irrational.  I know he was very interested in doing the FET, but I also know that he didn’t want to do a thing until the karotyping…which is a very logical and rational standpoint to take (one which I ascribe to myself earlier) but the part of me that’s gung-ho wants to leave it at that. 

So I don’t know.  Maybe my gloom is part of the confusion that I feel right now.  That and this gray sky.