Category: Infertile Me

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Not Stirred or Shaken … Just Chilled

This morning I’m taking a little time for myself. I woke up just a tad later than I usually do for work. And I’m doing it because it’s officially my scheduled day off from work. Not one of those days I had to call my boss in the morning and let her know that I wasn’t coming in because of my Dad or because I was waiting for a service man to repair our furnace.

Nope. Today was a day that I officially scheduled off because of a previously arranged doctor’s appointment. And for once, that appointment had nothing to do with the “nether regions” of my body.

So today, before I make an appearance at the hospital, I’ve decided to stop by my local cafe and chill. Catch up on some blogs. Do a little knitting. Do more research on finding that new OB-Gyn I need. And hey … maybe read the paper and catch up on some local (damn Kwame … ) and national (and now the ex-NY governor?!) news.

Because to tell you the truth … I’m feeling just a little anxious. And exhausted. And I want to take a moment to sip my Leprechaun Latte and enjoy the sounds and smells of my favorite cafe.

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When it Rains …

Last night after coming home from the hospital, Hubby & I climbed into bed and quickly fell asleep. I had strange dreams of kitty cats attacking me (they’ve been “banished” from the bedroom from Hubby for “bad behavior.” And they’ve been meowing incessantly to get into the comfy bed with me) and of waking up late and missing my Dad’s pacemaker procedure in the morning. (Can we say I’m just a little stressed?!)

At around 3 am, Hubby woke me up from a pretty deep slumber asking me for some assistance. “Huh?!,” I said groggily. What kind of help would he need at 3-frickin’ o’clock in the morning?!

“The heater’s not working,” Hubby informed me. “And I need some help looking at our furnace.” And sure enough, it was colder than Joe Louis Arena during a Red Wings game. 52 degrees, in fact (which, considering it was in the 20’s outside, is quite a bit chilly).

So after clanking around in the basement for a bit, we ended up looking up our local heating & cooling company and calling them to make a service call first thing in the morning.

Except they didn’t come until close to 10:30 am. And by then, my poor kitties and”puppy” were chilled. And Hubby & I were downright frozen to the bone … despite the fact we were bundled in as much clothing as possible.

Geesh. When it rains … it certainly pours.

On a happier note, my nephew Tyler turned twelve today. This, of course, also means that I will have been married 12 years ago this coming August. Which means it will be oh … approximately 11.5 years since we’ve been TTC. Sigh …

Regardless, I wish Tyler a HAPPY 12th BIRTHDAY!

Your Uncle & Auntie Em love you “To Infinity and Beyond …. “
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Blogiversary

Thanks AGAIN for everyone’s well wishes for my Dad’s speedy recovery. I am so incredibly grateful for all the blove (blog love) I’ve received. I will update you on my Dad’s condition in another post, but today I figured I’d blog about something else.

I just got done reading BabyBound‘s latest post, and it reminded me that a year ago this month is when I started blogging. Okay, so officially it’s not until March 17th but … whatever.

Anyhoo … the reason BabyBound’s post reminded me of my blogiversary was because she was talking about the reason why she started her blog. And what has transpired (or hasn’t transpired) since taking a break from fertility treatments.

For me, the reason I started this blog was to find an outlet to express how frustrated I was with my infertility. At this time last year, I was going through quite a bit of angst and frustration. Shall we recap? Yeah, why not.

  1. Mid-March would be the 3rd anniversary of my one (and only) failed attempt at IVF. Since then, I had not done anything active to pursue further infertility treatments. Nor was I moving forward in any direction towards adoption. It terrified me to move forward (and in some ways, it still does today).
  2. My SIL, who had just gotten remarried less than a year ago at that time, was already 5 months pregnant. And, of course, after trying for well-over 10 years to start our own family, I fell into a deep dark abyss of feeling like shit.
  3. Same SIL found out just two weeks prior that her baby was showing signs of abnormalities (US was indicative of a cleft lip and omphalocele) and of course, I was feeling guilty that I probably caused it by all my horrible feelings of jealousy and anger.
  4. The slimmest of slim possibilities of a quick and painless Philippine adoption was quickly and ceremoniously stripped away. (Come to think of it, I don’t think I even blogged about that. Hmmm … maybe a post for another time.)

So yeah … I think I had enough to vent about and just had to find an outlet for it all. And hence, Apron Strings for Emily was born.

A year later, I’m still writing. And I’ve enjoyed writing. It’s given me an opportunity to share and exchange information and emotions with people that I’ve never met IRL (in real life). And even those IRL people that do read my blog, it’s an opportunity for them to read exactly what I’m going through. Because in my real life, I’m not good at showing my real emotions.

And a year later, this is what’s going on in relation to the above-mentioned recaps:

  1. Yep; it will be the 4th anniversary of our IVF attempt. I’m still saddened by it, but the grief has lessened considerably since last year. I still have no desire to pursue any further IF treatments, but instead am now dealing with the return of some unfriendly and unwanted GYN issues.
  2. My SIL remained pregnant and in May (at 31 weeks), prematurely delivered Liam. In his short life (he lived only 4 months), he touched all of our lives with his beautiful eyes and incredible strength.
  3. Same SIL announced this past January that she is once again pregnant (and due in August). Yes, it still hurts. No I didn’t fall into that abyss again. I’m dealing with it the best I can , which is to accept it for what it is. I do have to add that this time around, SIL has been wonderfully conscious about how her pregnancy affects me … and for that I am grateful.
  4. Adoption. Yes, this is our next step and I’m actively taking baby steps to get there. I’m still quite overwhelmed, but taking even just these little steps is more than I have taken in the four years since our failed IVF.

So, if you’ve kept reading to the end of this post … I applaud you. And I thank you. Thanks for being the ears (or in this case, the eyes) that I’ve needed to get past the most difficult times in my life this past year. I’ve learned that I am not alone in feeling the way I do. I’ve learned that others also share the same warmth, compassion and empathy that I have. I’ve learned that I am a much stronger person that I give myself credit for. I’ve learned that my husband continues to be and will always be my best friend in the world. And I’ve learned that blogging is therapeutic for my soul.

Happy Blogiversary to me!!

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Caring for the Heart

So it’s a go. Cardiac cath is scheduled at noon for my Dad today. I’m just hoping that everything will go smoothly and all the docs and nurses and anyone that takes care of him today do the best job that they can.

Ugh. I’m feeling so frustrated right now. Mostly because there is only so much I can do for my Dad at this moment other than just be there for him. The nurse in me wants to do more to help him but yet I don’t want to overstep my boundaries. Because believe me, when working the floors I absolutely HATED when visiting family members pulled out the “I’m a doctor”- or “I’m a nurse”- card, thinking that was going to scare me into making “triple”-sure I was doing the absolute correct thing.

But other than unrealistically flying Dad out to the best cardiology center in the US, I do have faith and confidence that he is getting the best treatment possible at this hospital at this exact time. The best I can do as a nurse is be there to explain to my Dad and Mom exactly what is going on and what to expect … basically be there to translate medical jargon into plain old-fashion English. That, and advocate for them exactly what their fears and concerns and needs are as a patient and his wife.

At the same time, poor Hubby has also been sick with a nasty cold. Which, if there was only more hours in the day, I would be babying him like he does for me when I’m sick. Unfortunately with yesterday being spent at the hospital, I’ve had no time to make him soup or hot tea and just generally be there for him. And I feel like such a horrible wife for that.

I bet y’all are saying … “WTF, Em? You advocate and care for your parents and Hubby, but you don’t advocate for yourself.” The past week (and previous posts) being prime example of not thinking of what’s the best thing for my own health.

Well, I have to tell you … and if you don’t know this by now … Nurses are notorious for not taking care of their own health. I think it’s in any person who chooses Nursing as a profession to care for others before caring for themselves. For me it’s not meant to be a self-sacrifice type of thing; it’s more that I feel that others needs appear to be more important and more urgent than my own. Then throw in the whole Catholic and Asian-American thing and it’s a golden opportunity for feeling the guilt.

Yes, I know it’s not always healthy. And I know that I do need to take care for myself before I can take care of anyone else. Every nurse gives that same schpiel to any of their co-workers (how’s that for the pot calling the kettle black?). But we’re a stubborn lot. We’re definitely a “Do as I say, not as I do” group.

I’m working on it though. This past year has been an exercise of learning to take care of myself. And think of my needs as a priority to others. I’m learning to say NO when I can’t take on anymore than I physically or emotional can. And I’m trying my darndest NOT to feel so damn guilty for doing so.

Right now? All my energy is focused on taking care of my Dad. Because that takes priority. Thanks for all your warm thoughts and prayers.

And if you can, say a quick one for Hubby, too. Because, he too, deserves the best.

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When is the Best Time … ?

When is it time to look for a new OB-Gyn? My current one has seen me through quite a bit of my medical history. It was with his direction that I experienced my first of many pelvic ultrasounds (and oh, what an eye-opening experience that was). He was the one that started the initial infertility work-up. He was the one that started me on the “Evil Clomid.” And he was the one to tell me when it was time to seek an RE. Not only that, but after so many years of “cheating” on him with specialist after specialist, he’s the one that took me back in when my attempt to successfully reproduce on my own failed.

So why am I questioning why I should change doctors?

As I mentioned in previous posts, I’ve been experiencing increased pain with my periods. I had an US two weeks ago, mid-cycle, that apparently looked picture-perfect. And the plan was to restart me on Lupron to help treat my endometriosis. And then Aunt Flo visited me with a vengeance.

And as an update to my last post where my doc basically gave me the “Take two of these and call me in the morning” speech … I called this morning to let the office know that yes, I was still having this intense pain. And no, the Darvocet I took (two tabs at a time, by the way) did not help the pain. So I was directed to go into the office for another exam, but this time it would be one of his partners since he was working out of his “other” office, all the way on the other side of town.

Well, let me tell you … Dr. Partner seemed to be much more attentive. He asked more questions, he seemed more interested in my symptoms. He seemed to want to figure out what was causing my pain. Unlike Dr. OldyShmoldy, who seemed to chalk up my symptoms to my endometriosis and that the Lupron injection should just “take care of it all.” So when Dr. Partner ordered another US thinking that something must have definitely changed from two weeks prior, I was more at ease knowing that something was being done. And when that US came back showing a 3.5 cm ovarian cyst (which, Thank God, was not ruptured), I just finally felt some justice that I wasn’t going crazy.

So what’s next? Other than the Lupron, which is supposed to help reabsorb the cyst … nothing. That is, unless the pain gets even worse. Which means that there’s still the possibility of a rupture. But not very likely.

Anyway, after this experience I’m seriously thinking that I need to change doctors. And change practices as well. I just don’t know how to go about doing this. I suppose I should wait until I finish my Lupron therapy. Or should I?

Argh. Any advice would help. And if anybody knows of a good OB-Gyn in the Detroit-Oakland Co. area …