no one ever said life was fair...

but I'll be damned if it's not been downright cruel today.

Life has not been the least bit fair to Laura and Justin today, and there's no good reason.

If the copy of When Bad Things Happen to Good People that's sitting in front of me on the desk didn't belong to the moderator of the support group, I'd throw it, or stomp on it, or do something else to vent the way I'm feeling.

I'm so sorry guys.

Mise en place

mise en place [MEEZ ahn plahs] - French cooking term meaning "everything in its place" i.e. the organization and preparation of a meal making efforts more efficient.

Today I've been thinking a lot about the expression "everything in its place." I enjoy cooking, and tend to practice this method when making meals because it makes good sense. But today I'm thinking about it in the context of MY place, and whether I'm in the right one.

One of my very first blog entries was about my current job and the fact that I've only really wanted to do one thing with my life (be a mom) but have not been able to do that thus far. There's more to it than just that, though; I've been a "career gypsy" so to speak, going from place to place, trying to find the right fit and eventually realizing I'd failed, once again.

To explain my career path is to venture down a confusing road with many twists and sharp turns. (Occasionally there was no guardrail.) I went off to college in 1988 with the intent of majoring in communications, but switched my major after the first year to music, following the thing that has been the big joy of my life. I thought I wanted to be a high-school choral director, and nothing else -- despite the fact that I am excellent with younger children, I somehow couldn't see that an elementary ed position might be my best fit. I graduated at 23, ready to face the world -- or so I thought. For some strange reason I dragged my feet on submitting job applications. I applied for the few that were close to home but never made it past the research stage when the thought of an out-of-state job came up.

To pay the bills while I tried to figure out what I was doing with my life, I began temping. I devoted the same level of attention to being a receptionist or secretarial temp that I did with any other job, and so the clients I worked for liked me. One liked me enough to offer me a full-time position, and since I hadn't gotten up the nerve to apply for those jobs in Maryland, I took it.

I would continue to search the classifieds, hoping for a teaching position to open up locally, but none did. So, after about nine months, I thought that maybe I needed to do something else -- and just like that an opportunity presented itself: a secretarial job at a local prestigious university. "Perfect," I thought, "maybe I can get a graduate degree part-time while I work!" So I interviewed for, and got, my first job that I came to despise. I worked there for three years, and it was during this time, working for a micromanager of a department head, that I developed my first episode of major depression.

But I was going to grad school at night, which seemed to be my way out. Suddenly, I had the idea that I'd apply full-time to a program closer to my background -- and so I applied for and got accepted to a full time program in arts management. I completed the remaining degree requirements in a year.

Since graduating in 1998, I've been a PR/development associate for a dance presenter, an alumni giving staffer (ugh!), a operations manager for a semi-professional choir, a software trainer and now a systems analyst. I've had my share of dissatisfaction with every job I've held, and one even was bad enough to cause panic attacks.

I've never read The Purpose-Driven Life but have wondered whether it would be a good read for me. I need to check out the reviews on that one, I guess. I have read books like The Career Guide for Creative and Unconventional People and Do What You Are... I've done the Myers-Briggs test on a number of occasions (although I can't recall exactly which type I am) but still keep choosing things that eventually end up to be the wrong choice.

My husband often says to me that he wonders if I'd *ever* be happy working; that maybe the reason I have so many problems being satisified with my jobs is that I don't want to be doing any of them. Today has been a day at my current job where I am questioning my ability to stay here, and I have to wonder if perhaps he's right.

23rd post

Jill (not Aussie Jill, but rather Midwestern US Jill!) tagged me to do this one, and since I've never been tagged for anything before, thought I'd give it a go!

1. Go into your archives.

2. Find your 23rd post.

3. Find the fifth sentence.

4. Post the text of the sentence along with these instructions.

5. Tag five people to do the same.

My 23rd post was entitled "The rest of my day..." and was a random collection of thoughts and things that actually happened. Out of context, the fifth sentence doesn't make much sense: "Every now and again it would try to brush some of the pollen off its legs, or body, and there would be this little clump of pollen left in a pile afterwards." I could suggest that it was a theoretical discussion where I draw parallels between the bees gathering pollen and my fertility, but alas, it wasn't really anything nearly that interesting. But it did make for a funny sight.

I will tag Lauralu, Katie, Julie, Lorem, and Jill (the other one!) Of course, only if you're game...

the long journey back to normal

Today I saw the new counselor, M. She's more astute than a lot of counselors I've seen, and asked questions rather than just letting me talk the whole time. And apparently she did her job just right for the first session, because after my talk with her, I did a lot of thinking about the way I'm framing life right now. And I think that part of my big problem is that I no longer expect anything good to happen.

I'm not a regular church attendee, and have had serious faith issues this past six months. However, I just finished reading "When Bad Things Happen to Good People," and there are two parts that resonated with me. The first is the author's discussion of the kinds of prayer that God answers - not those that ask for a life free of problems or illness or bad things, but rather those that ask for courage, strength, and hope. He writes:

[t]he conventional explanation, that God sends us the burden because he knows that we are strong enough to handle it, has it all wrong. Fate, not God, sends us the burden. When we try to deal with it, we find out that we are not strong. We are weak, we get tired, we get angry, overwhelmed. We begin to wonder how we will ever make it through all the years. But when we reach the limits of our own strength and courage, something unexpected happens. We find reinforcement coming from a source outside of ourselves. And in the knowledge that we are not alone, that God is on our side, we manage to go on.

The second speaks directly to the problem I'm having:

...God has created a world in which many more good things than bad things happen. We find life's disasters upsetting not only because they are painful but because they are exceptional.... [w]hen you have been hurt by life, it may be hard to keep that in mind.

I'm not totally out the woods yet; but realizing this is the core of my problem right now made me feel empowered somehow. I hope to continue empowering myself.

---

My 3D ultrasound was also this morning. I got good news, if you can call it that - the test confirmed the septum that the RE saw on my HSG results. I did have a frightening moment when I got the preliminary report after reading "the left ovary is not visualized" (???) but have read that they can "hide" behind other organs and I'm not going to think anything else until I'm told otherwise.

Next steps: get through this cycle, get new cd3 bloodwork done, go back for my followup appointment with the RE 10/28. Don't think about surgery or results or anything further in the future than just that.

Wish me luck.

fragile, part II

This is just the week for bad news... I just found out that an online friend of mine has lost her mother. I'm terribly saddened by this news, as she is only 29 years old and is expecting her first child in November. It's hard to imagine losing a parent at any time, but this hit me especially hard.

I know she reads my blog (although I wouldn't expect her to be reading now, obviously)... but S, if you do come here, I am so sorry for what's happened and wish there were more that I could do from afar. Thinking of you.

you keep using that word... I do not think it means what you think it means...

(Yeah, I'm a total Princess Bride geek. Heh.)

Had this big long rant ready to post about how much I disliked "Inc0nceivable" (which I taped and watched this morning) but suffice it to say I wouldn't want to offend anyone since I'm not personally affected by IF in that way... but long story short, I totally thought it was the train wreck I was expecting it to be. Sad.

Sadder still that lots of people will probably believe the crap they say.

how fragile we are

Well, my date night plans have changed drastically. We're going to the funeral home as one of G's best friends from high school has lost his father.

I'm disappointed, but it also has me thinking about the fragility of life.

This friend of G's is the same age. His dad was younger than my father-in-law, by more than a few years. My best friend, J, lost both of her parents in the past four months. She's six months older than I am. Never mind the fact that I haven't had my first child yet at age 35; the thought of losing our parents is becoming a reality that we cannot avoid. I don't feel old enough for that to happen, and yet it could.

We get to witness the first time ever in our history that two catastrophic storms have hit the same region of the country in the same year. I'm still struck by the way nature has proven to us that it can take back the land, any time it wants, without warning. We only think we're in control.

If we I spent less time worrying about the bad things that might happen and more time enjoying the fact that I'm living, it wouldn't keep the bad things from happening, I know that. But perhaps I might have learned to live with them better had I followed that practice all this time.

Food for thought.

Sage advice...

I got Chinese food for lunch. My fortune cookie revealed the following words of wisdom:

"Progress always involves risk."

Soon after, I got an e-mail from a work friend... we'd been discussing a work function and I was telling her I wasn't sure if I was going to go. Part of her reply said this:

"Sounds like you have layer upon layer of reasons why you shouldn't be doing something. Try to get away from that and find just ONE reason why you SHOULD."

It seems as though the universe is telling me the same thing that everyone else has been trying to for weeks. Hopefully soon I will be better at the follow-through.

just don't call me Martha

here are some non-baby-related Good Things that I can say right now:

• the CSI season premiere is tonight! woohoo!
  
• One more night with the pager... and it's been relatively a five-letter word that we don't say lest we jinx ourselves but I'm oh-so-thankful for my sleep
  
• We're going to have dinner at Rock Bottom Brewery and go see Corpse Bride tomorrow night. Date nights are always good.

Ok, see, even typing about the pager causes it to go off. Damn. Well, at least I wasn't asleep.

A depressed blogger is a boring blogger.

A seemingly quiet day in the blogisphere. I can hear crickets. And I've probably chased away most of my vast amount of readers (ha-ha) because I've been so down in the dumps lately.

I did have some thoughts this morning while pumping gas that may have been good blog topics, but they're gone now. Sometimes I think it would be nice to have an interface directly from my brain to the computer -- I'd forget less, perhaps -- but the government could probably do too much with something like that so it's not a good idea. So I just put up with forgetting things. A consequence of being depressed, or of having fibromyalgia (I never mentioned this but I was diagnosed in 1998), or just plain mental overload perhaps? At one point a few months back I was convinced I had ADD, but since I didn't have these problems with focus and concentration in childhood it's probably just from depression.

I also tried recently to type up the "what to blog about when you've got nothing to blog about" standard, "100 things about me" but couldn't think of more than three. I thought of a few more a week or so later, right before falling asleep one night, but of course, they're gone now. Ha.

One step at a time...

Scheduled my 3D ultrasound for next Tuesday, an hour after my counseling appointment (both in the women's hospital near me).

So after that's done, all I'll have to wait for is cd3 so I can get my next series of bloodwork. Ironically, that should come in about two weeks. My very own version of the "two week wait" -- will it be more or less stressful than they were when we were trying?

That depends on me, I guess.

No kid has that much hair...

So here's that doll...


It doesn't look as realistic in the picture as it did in real life. That's probably a good thing.

Weekend update

Had the weekend from hell -- the pager went off every night during the wee hours. I got very little sleep and am dragging today. Ugh.

---

Did manage to go out with two of my friends this weekend. We went to a new mall that just opened about 45 minutes away from me. Did some "retail therapy" (i.e., bought some new clothes for fall).

And then my friends did an intervention. H and J told me that they didn't like what they saw in my eyes, that I had to get help, that I couldn't just keep withdrawing until there was little of my formerly strong, go-getter-self left.

They hit the nail on the head with that one, really. I broke down in the parking lot where we were standing and they both hugged me; told me I "had to get healthy" (i.e., mentally) and that they were just looking out for me. I said I didn't know what to do. They told me at minimum to increase my Zoloft like I'd been talking about doing; and to find someone to talk to. ASAP.

I called this morning and have an appointment with a counselor next Tuesday.

---

Oh, BTW... new mall had a rather interesting store, where if I wanted, I could get my very-own "lifelike" baby doll. Some of them were displayed in cribs, or in plastic bins that were tilted in the window to look like bassinettes in a nursery. It was eerily realistic. I was making jokes with my friends that "I should just take one of these home! wouldn't G be surprised??" but it bothered me more than a little... I took a picture of one of them but will need to upload it later.

Progress...

Dr. W, my new RE, is also my new favorite person.

First of all, I have to share this bizarre story about my "RE waiting room experience" after having read others' on the various IF blogs. A guy came in, apparently to do an SA.... with his father. Ok, apparently they came from a long distance and dad drove. So then, they start talking... mind you they're the only ones talking, as everyone else is stone silent... and the dad has an artificial voicebox-thingy, so he's not whispering by any means. They're talking about golf, lawncare, blah blah blah. Then all of a sudden the dad touches his throat and says "couldn't you have just brought it in a jar?"

Ummm, ok.

Anyway. Once I get called back I get interviewed for past history by the nurse practitioner, C. She's EXTREMELY nice. Then I go back into Dr. W's office, and he asks me some questions. Apparently the old doctor's office *didn't* get my request to send over the results, or didn't feel like sending them, because Dr. W didn't have them. (Remind me to do some arse-kicking of them later.)

Dr. W pulled up the HSG film on the computer, and said "well, kid, *I* see a septum." Told me that he wants to schedule me for a 3-D ultrasound to confirm it. Also looked at my bloodwork and agreed with me that the FSH is concerning. He wants to repeat it, along with an estradiol, LH, prolactin, repeat TSH and T4. Oh, and he wants G and I to get karyotyping done.

Afterwards, C. did an exam, and aside from my blood pressure being elevated (stress, maybe??) said that looked fine. I get to do all these tests, and then come back for a followup in six weeks.

Oh, and of course, no trying to conceive until all this is done, of course.

Not that I'd have it any other way. I think.

"um, what was that, hon??"

Ok, it's finally here, and I didn't completely and totally obsess.

Much. (HA!)

My appointment with the RE is tomorrow morning, 8am. I have to be there bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 7:30! I thought they were joking when they confirmed my appointment, but they weren't. Better go program the coffee maker now.

Double-checked my insurance plan's website before leaving work today: no coverage once a diagnosis of infertility is discovered; no coverage of any fertility treatment; no coverage of fertility medications. Great, all my bases are totally un-covered. There's a very narrow ledge here dead ahead, and I feel like I'm already too clumsy to safely cross.

G was filling out his portion of the medical questionnaire while I was making dinner. He kept calling out things, like "should I say I had delayed puberty?" or "how about HPV?" I told him not to get me in any trouble. (I still double-checked his answers, just in case. He can be a practical joker at times, and I didn't want to find out he's in a funny mood tomorrow when I'm still half-asleep.)

And here we go...

so...

do you think Ms. Thing timed the release of her new fragrance around her c-section, or her c-section around the release of her new fragrance?

just asking.

Odd

I dreamed I was going into labor last night.

No wonder I didn't want to wake up this morning.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes...

In case anyone wonders where my picture went, I have taken it down temporarily so that hopefully I can find another one. I love that picture, but think that it doesn't fit here. Plus my hair's shorter. :) Another soon to follow.

I'm also giving Blogrolling a try, rather than editing my own link list.

That's it, for now.
------------------------------
edited to add: I haven't figured out the Blogrolling settings for the "Updated" stuff, and so it's not accurate. Guess I'm not as much of a web geek computer savvy person as I thought I was.

Finding my joy...

I went to the loss support group again last night. Once again, it was a small group, even smaller than last time (actually, it was just the founder, the facilitator and me -- it was more like a counseling session than a support group. Whatever.) It helped to talk about this in some place other than my head, or with G.

One of the things that the facilitator told me is that I need to take steps to do normal things. It's what G's been telling me, but without it feeling like "nagging". I hate that I can recognize good advice when it comes from a different source than my husband, but unfortunately that's what is happening.

So, anyway, I have to try to come up with some things to do, and then actually do them. This is harder than I would have expected. I told the facilitator last night that I can't seem to remember what I liked to do "before"... and I know that has to sound crazy, but it's true. It's as if my mind has gone completely blank when it comes to thinking about what my life involves besides trying to get pregnant, being pregnant, trying to stay pregnant or agonizing about not being pregnant. Sad, huh??

But ok, I have to come up with something. So, I'm thinking:

1) Take a walk after work.
2) Go to a craft store and get a project of some sort I want to do that doesn't involve babies (i.e., no scrapbooking right now)
3) Investigate the fall "personal development" classes at our local community college.

That's all I can come up with right now. But it's a start, I guess.

tough love

G and I got into another argument yesterday. (He and I are good at it, unfortunately). Again, it stems from me forecasting my/our fertility future so far out that I'm depressing myself, and from him a) not wanting to see me go there, emotionally, before we know we really need to, and b) not being sure he wants to go there, period. Meaning he's not 100% positive that he wants to "have a child at any cost."

I can't say I'm surprised. We struggled to get to the point where he was okay with having kids anyway, so to say "yes, I will do whatever it takes to make this happen" is a hard step for him to contemplate, let alone agree to. I can't say for sure that I would do so, either, but I'm obviously more emotionally attached to the idea, having been the one who's wanted a child for most of my adult life.

G also doesn't know exactly what it is I'm doing when I'm on the computer, but doesn't think "it particularly serves me." I can't explain blogging to him well; he thinks it's stressing me out more to read stories of other people in similar (or more extreme, in some cases) situations, and while he may be right, I can't stop myself. From thinking these thoughts or from wanting to get all this information.

I'm wondering if my current Zoloft dose is enough. It may be time to increase it. *sigh*

YAY!

Nothing to blog about, indeed: I get to see my brother tonight!

Said brother (same name as my husband, BTW; does that make him G2??) is nine years my junior, and is on tour as a lighting/stage technician for the Chinese Golden Dragon Acrobats. He got his start doing theater by tagging along to run spotlights or work backstage when I was doing shows in and after college, and majored in technical theater as a result. (I was -- and am -- so proud.)

Anyway, I've missed him terribly since he hardly ever gets to come home, and we lucked out in that he's passing through on his way to Connecticut. So I'm going out to my mom's to visit with him tonight.

Yesterday I had utterly nothing worth blogging about. (Brain cramp! Thought about using the Imagination Prompt Generator I found through another blog, but even that left me speechless. Ha.)

Today, I am thinking that there are a lot of people who deserve my attention more than myself. Laura, for example: here's to no more bleeding. Eve: I'm hoping the HSG was no big deal, and that they found everything clear and normal. Also, I'll be thinking about you on Sunday. Catherine, your posts have inspired me so much of late, and yet I didn't know exactly what to say. I'm sorry. Cat: I'm hoping that all this ass-jabbing is OVER this month, because "yinz did it" (as we'd say here in 'da Burgh). Oh and Jill, did you test yet?? haha.

For the new folks I've found (Lola, for example, or Kath), or those that found me (Em) it seems as though we are all in some sort of limbo: waiting for something to happen, or for the other shoe to drop.

For ALL of my blogging friends, and those I haven't actually met yet but greatly admire -- a wish for peace, answers, and a good laugh or two. God knows we all need it.

Sideshow freaks...

"Yessir, ladies and gents, step right up to see the 'crazy-lady-obsessed-with-having-a-baby' - one of a kind! Watch her obsess right in front of your eyes!!"

Last night, G and I got into a "discussion" about all of this. I wanted to talk about my fears about seeing the RE and what it could mean for us, and he started talking money, and that got me upset, and that got him frustrated, and it basically ended with him saying he's never seen me so obsessed with anything in my whole life, and that "there's no joy for you... you work, you watch TV, you research this on the computer, and you sleep."

He's right. I'm not doing a whole lot else lately.

The point he makes, though, makes me wonder if that's unusual. If I didn't want this so badly, would I be happier even though it's so elusive?

this is why time to think is not a good thing:

Based on my normal stats, I will probably ovulate right after my appointment with the RE.

Which means I won't be able to have a hysteroscopy until October at the earliest.

Which means *if* they actually do the operative kind then, and I am able to heal in the minimum amount of time post-surgery that I've seen online (two months, and I don't know if that's two actual months or two cycles), I won't be able to start TTC again until December at the earliest.

Which means even if we get extremely lucky again, I won't have a baby before I'm 36.

(I was already past that anyway; I would've had to have gotten pregnant right after my second miscarriage for that to happen, but it didn't occur to me then.)

Yeah, I'm whining, I know. Just not in the mood to shut up and deal, today. (When am I ever??)

Silly me!

There's nothing like yesterday's purely speculative thought ("could I be??) to send out a fancy invite to Aunt Flo to pay a visit.

What was I thinking??

And here is where I speak of feminine things...

And I'm not talking about women's lib or fancy clothes.

These past few days I've been in a near-panic.

The source of my panic was simple: light spotting at 9 and 10dpo. There have only been two other times that I've had spotting like that before getting my period. (Or, rather, NOT getting it.)

I spent most of Saturday afternoon convincing myself that it wasn't possible. We only did the deed once, five days before I ovulated. While not outside the realm of possibility, the myth that sperm can live for five days in fertile CM just hasn't proven itself, that I know of. (Why can't I find *this* urban legend on Snopes.com?? Damn.) I ovulated late, also, so the last miscarriage or the HSG probably just changed my cycle. Things are different now; predictability is not a word that should be in my dictionary, right??

I spent most of Saturday evening scared out of my mind.

Luckily, Sunday was spent at my in-laws; I had something else to occupy my thoughts (for the most part). Never mind that when I got home, the spotting was nowhere to be seen.

This morning's temp plummeted, so I was probably worried for nothing.

I still haven't gotten my period yet, though.

We'll see what happens. I reserve the right to remain utterly terrified.

The one-two punch.

When I think it's over, it's not.

I learned last night that I can still cry about not being a mom. It was just a scene in a stupid movie with a man leaning over a pregnant woman's belly, listening to the baby, but it reminded me of everything and it all came out.

(Well, it's also that I got an information packet from my RE... that included *price lists and financing option brochures* -- holy CRAP, what am I getting myself into here??)

I also know that I am obsessing over this too much. I know that. I am finding out all this information, storing it away in my brain and then when my mind gets going, the inevitable conclusions I come to are not what I need to be thinking right now.

There's part of this situation with me that I haven't talked about here; for years, G was not sure he wanted kids. I always knew I did. I've know this about him since we met in 1996 and after we got married in 2000 we've discussed it, ignored it, fought about it... all the things you probably shouldn't do in a relationship, but we did because it's our nature. I kept trying to find a way that he would be comfortable with the situation because I just knew that he would be a good father, and that he was just scared.

When he finally said that he was ready to try, I realized what a big step that was for him.

We got pregnant fairly quickly, both times. Yeah, I know I'm lucky; I've read what a lot of the infertile bloggers have been through and know that I could have it much, much worse -- years of infertility, followed by expensive procedures ending with multiple losses. I don't know how some of those women persisted through what they did, but I admire their tenacity.

But the problem is that when I look at what we've gone through as a couple just to get to the point of starting to try, and imagine going through even tougher things -- Clomid, IUI, IVF, adoption -- I don't know that I have it in me. I don't know that WE have it in us. And I KNOW it's been too short of a journey for me to be thinking about that, already. But it's in my nature to worry and obsess, even though I know it doesn't serve any good purpose.

Why does something that comes so EASILY for some people have to be so complicated for others?

And why can't I stop that train of thought in my mind from running off its track?

I do know it's not all about me.

Honestly, I do. I *know* that the Katrina crisis is more important than what's going on in my little corner of the world, particularly the corner that holds my uterus.

Part of my problem is that I've always been timid -- no, make that scared shitless -- to enter into political or social commentary for fear that it will be shown that I have NO CLUE what I'm talking about. I am not as politically-versed as many of my friends in the blogisphere, and tend to run from any sort of debate for fear of being smashed by my competition. (Case in point: when I said to a Republican colleague of mine that "Kerry had only lost by a small percentage" and she LOUDLY told me exactly how many votes more W had received. I backed down as quickly as I could.)

But I do know that this is an awful situation, and I wish there were more that I could do.

I am seeing some injustices, though.

Close to home: my employer matched employee donations to the tsunami relief effort, but have not yet extended the same offer for Katrina donations. A colleage of mine sent an e-mail to our CIO, asking about whether there were plans to do so. She's not heard back from him.

Even worse: I just read that FEMA under secretary Michael Brown said that "those New Orleans residents who chose not to heed warnings to evacuate... bear some responsibility for their fates." Is he not aware that those who stayed behind did so in most cases not by choice, but because of a lack of resources to leave?? The fact that he does not acknowledge this, or worse, is not aware of it, is incredible to me.

I hope that the government somehow makes up for the lack of response thus far, and learns a lesson in preparedness. It's a shame that they had to learn it through such loss and suffering.

Be careful what you wish for.

Having answers isn't all it's cracked up to be.

I had barely opened the envelope and scanned the numbers when one popped out at me:

"International Normalized Ratio (INR): L 1.0
Reference Range: 2.0 to 4.0
Key for flags: L-Low"

Hmmm, this one might not be a problem... maybe. It says something about oral anticoagulant therapy, and I'm not on that.

Next page:

"ANA Titer: 1:40
Reference range: Less than 1:40"

Ok, try not to read too much into that one, Lisa. The RE will probably just suggest baby aspirin on that one. No big deal.

Next page:

"FSH 11.9 mIU/mL";

then, further down the page within the reference ranges:

"Ovarian Failure: 11.5-91.1 mIU/mL"

I'm trying very hard not to let my mind get ahead of me with that one. Talked to G about it and he said "don't worry about it until you've talked to the doctor; what's normal at one age may be abnormal at another."

Let's just hope that he's right and I'm wrong.