BagMomma

Cue Monster

2009-11-06T15:02:00.000-05:00

The post I didn't want to write.

I don't know where to go from here. You see, there's comfort in having a plan. Even if it's the best or worst plan in the world, HAVING a plan gives you something to hold on to when you are trying to keep your head above water. A point of reference, a direction. A lighthouse on a foggy shore.

This is the first time in my life I don't have a plan.

I mean, wasn't donor eggs SUPPOSED to be the magic bullet? It sure has been for practically everyone else I know. You would think, in life, that if you are willing to walk the longest and thinnest tight rope to get what you want that you might be rewarded for having the BALLS, the GUSTO! the blind MADNESS!! and ultimately succeed.

But no.

So where does that leave me?

I don't have a clue.

Truth be told, I had a bit of a hissy fit with the RE today. I put on my big girl pants and went in for the blood draw and had an emotional discussion with one of the lead nurses on staff. I am not letting them off the hook for the poor thaw last week. When they called with the negative results this afternoon (shocking!) I gave an earful again. They are now off to have their own consult (a staff meeting to discuss the DE/IVF flunkies and determine what went wrong). Afterwards, I requested a WTF meeting with the lead doctor and nurse coordinator for the DE program. I may be done, but I won't shrink into the background because of it.

In recent days- I had an epiphany... this isn't just about ME. It's also about my husband. He has always had a stake in this too, and to my surprise his level of investment is exceeding mine at the moment.

A short time ago, I was prepared for this end. As much as I could be anyway. And then, as S. and I discussed this week's events and prepared for the final curtain, he turned to me and said... "We'll find a way, and we'll do it again. We'll figure something out. This can't be IT!"

"That's crazy talk! What the hell are you smoking???" I retorted.

We didn't say much after that. Actually, I think we made a date this weekend to eat fine food until we can't move and drink vast quantities of our favorite microbrew beer, but we settled for an immediate fix of leftover Halloween candy and playing Nerf guns with David.

But I have to admit, I was perplexed. Here I am at the end of my emotional rope, that, admittedly... I drug him along at times over the years (maybe nudged is a better word). And now that we reach the end, and I am maybe ready? to make peace with the universe for giving me a shit sandwich... Husband and I have each swung 180 degrees in a different direction.

He wants to pull ME.

So I did it.

I opened the closet door. Yes, that door. My heart was in my mouth. I felt the monsters hot, nasty breath for a split second...and...

...just as I was about to be pulled in and consumed...

S. pulled me back.

-------
No, we don't have a plan. We may never have another plan.

Yes, my heart is aching and shattered into a million pieces. Yes, it's hard to keep the anger at bay. I don't know if I will ever get over the unfairness of life. There are so many of us that would risk certain danger for this ONE THING that comes so easy to most of the population. It seems, at times, that this has to be a world that has gone mad! How can the highest joy and ultimate sadness coexist on this earth? What is the meaning, the lesson?? So many questions.

I don't know where we're going, but we will hold on to each other in the darkness and walk in circles if we have to.

We will find a path eventually. And almost certainly, it will lead somewhere other than here.

The last chapter...

2009-11-03T11:42:00.000-05:00

For the inquiring minds: I tested this morning. I stared back at nothing. Not even a whisper of a line.

Please, do not tell me it's too early. It's not.

So this is what it feels like to really fail at something. To exhaust every path, to endure every last available technology. To pump myself full of chemicals that have god knows what affect down the road.

Almost five years of misery. Five years of loss. Five years of chasing a dream only to come up empty.

Empty in mind, body, spirit, and finances.

No next step. No back up plan to the back up plan.

Just sadness, regret, and unbearable pain.

A swine Halloween

2009-11-02T08:03:00.000-05:00

Swine flu or no swine flu, we managed to have Halloween here at the BagMomma house after all.

It's been a long week, and I am not lying when I tell you I had almost forgotten I had my FET last Tuesday. David being sick was all the diversion I needed.

Thankfully, the boy started feeling better at the end of the week, and was awake enough to put on his Halloween costume and venture out for a little while with Daddy while I stayed behind to give out candy.

He even stayed in costume when it got dark, and attempted to scare trick-or-treaters by standing still as a statue under the maple tree.

Now that the weekend is over, I guess I can start wondering if the lone embryo made it.

My first guess is a no, and I judge that only from extensive experience in the 2ww. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I know my body quite well (even though I've grown to hate it). There's no way I am pregnant.

Beta is on Friday, but I intend to test very soon just so I can get it over with.

*Sigh*

Yep, I just took the "Happy" out of Halloween. Sorry about that.

I Want Candy

2009-10-28T11:12:00.000-04:00

Day two of bedrest.

So with the incredibily suck-ass news yesterday, I forgot to update you all on the flu situation here at the house.

David, yes, is an H1N1 victim (as is a host of kids in his school). This morning, as I was sipping coffee and eating a peanut butter cup (don't judge me, the coffee was decaf, and the candy, well, wasn't.. it's Halloween week for goodness sakes so what better time to eat candy than 7:30am??)

I digress.

So, David is starting to feel better. He still has a fever, albeit a low-grade one now. He's out of school for the week, which means he misses all the Halloween parties so he's already guilting me into a toy from Target this weekend.

Meanwhile, S. and I have no symptoms. However, I began taking Tamiflu as a precaution (recommended because of my situation). Can I just tell you how EVIL Tamiflu is??? Tamiflu makes you feel like you HAVE the flu (minus the fever). What the hell hair-brained idiot thought that one up? I should have read the damn prescription dossier before I took it.

In any event, my goal is to stay healthy.

I cannot guarantee, however, that I will not consume the entire bag of peanut butter cups. I will attempt to balance it out with a salad or two, don't worry.

Thank you all for you kind comments and e-mails. It is because of you that I have any shred of humor left today.

I've decided to not think about what will happen if this doesn't work. Well, I know, sure.... it's a giant road sign that screams "THE END", but I figure I'll spend the next week pretending it's not there.

The Lone Ranger

2009-10-27T13:54:00.000-04:00

My bad luck follows me like a stray dog.

They had to thaw all 7 remaining embryos, and of those, only ONE made it through the thaw. My clinic has a 70% thaw rate. There I go beating the crappy odds once again.

I'm disappointed, sad, and generally pissed off.

The one that made it is "extremely good quality", so says embryologist. I know it only takes one, but let's face it... the odds are already slim that an FET will work at all, and now I just decreased my odds even further.

My journey... it's so close to the end.

And now I have 48 hours of bedrest to ponder it over and over.

Dammit.

Down with the sickness

2009-10-26T13:03:00.000-04:00

Because, really... could this week even be more drama and suspense filled?

Little D has the flu. His symptoms started last night and evolved into something closely resembling H1N1. They are treating it as that because, well... it's too early to be the seasonal flu, and he did have a regular flu shot a couple weeks ago. Process of elimination I suppose. S. took him to the doctor this morning for official diagnosis.

Half the town was there.

In speaking with the ped office and his school this morning, it seems Jersey went from the fewest cases of swine flu to a zillion in just the last week.

So far, S. and I are well. No symptoms for either of us. The house has been sanitized, and our hands are raw from repeated hand-washing. I am waivering between concern for my son and concern for myself considering this is the WORST week for this to happen. THE WORST.

I just want my baby to feel better. And I want to not feel guilty for trying to keep my distance because of my own situation.

Transfer for my FET is tomorrow at 11am.

God-willing.

Zultan, the Magnificent

2009-10-25T21:50:00.000-04:00

This weekend, we went to a Halloween party hosted by my neighbor, who is the ultimate party hostess. Her house, decorated inside and out is a Halloween showpiece. She spends weeks (yes, I said WEEKS) prepping for the holiday. I wish you could all see it, really I do.

So anyway, she has a ton of rare Halloween items, and one of them is a real fortune telling machine. Are any of you are familiar with Zoltar (from the movie "Big")? Well, she has a tabletop version that is every bit as mystical and cool... meet Zultan.

Zultan was busy that night giving out fortunes. All you had to do was press a button, wait for the curtain to open, and listen. Most of the fortunes were sort of depressing. Aren't these types of games supposed to be rigged to sway towards the positive?? Come on!

I mean, would you keep playing with the Magic 8 Ball if it only said, "better luck next time", "the future is uncertain", "get lost, you're bad luck" (ok, I made that one up).

But I like to live on the edge. Was I going to let Zultan ruin my party mood? Hell no.

So I pressed the button.

And Zultan?

He told me my hearts desire will be mine. My wish will come true.

Zultan, you may be the economy version of Zoltar, but thank you.

For keeping my hope alive.

I needed that.

Breathe In...

2009-10-21T14:37:00.000-04:00

Well, this FET cycle sure snuck up on me.

Lining check today and all is well. Lining is a very cushy 13mm (which is way thicker than last time, I'm not sure if that makes a difference). Bloodwork also came in right on target.

Transfer is Tuesday.

{Breathe Out}

Here we go again.

Me, me, me

2009-10-19T18:07:00.001-04:00

I have a backlog of memes I've been tagged for in the last couple of weeks. My blogging friend Melissa tagged me for this one. It's sort of a photo-centric one about your favorite things. This blog needs a pick-me-up post, so be forewarned... I am stressed, and my comic timing is rusty:

1. Your favorite beverage:
No surpises here... a venti please.

2. Your hometown:

I am a Jersey girl, but my heart belongs to Philadelphia. As a kid we shopped there (at Gimbels and Lits). I lived there when I went to college. I had friends that lived there in my twenties. I worked there for MANY years. S. and I's favorite hangout bar (was) there for many years. And, when I used to travel a lot for work, I lived at PHL (the airport). My EAGLES are there (although they disappointed me tremendously last weekend..argh)! ...and, there's nothing more comforting than a Geno's cheesesteak.

3. Your favorite television show:
Well, duh...!

4. Your occupation:
Chief cook and bottle washer for an IT company. No, you don't wanna know.... and no, that's not me in the photo, but WTF?? Is this like computer geek por.n from the 70's?

5. Your first car:
My 1986 Ford Escort! It was new, blue, and definitely NOT a guy magnet. I was, however very safe and the car was small enough to parallel park in the city. AND since I was one of the few in my circle of friends with a reliable car, I was always the driver. Always. My parents would have been proud of my responsible role in college.

6. Your favorite dish:
mmmmm.... crab cakes.

7. Celebrity you've been told you resemble:
No one. Does that make me unique, or just forgettable?

8. Celebrity on your "to do" list:
I like the versatility of a guy that can bust out a show tune AND rip out someone's neck with claws and still appear totally likeable. And he's hot.

9. Your favorite childhood toy:
I had one of those Barbie heads.. you know the ones in which you style the hair. I couldn't find a picture of the 70's version, but you get the idea. To be truthful, I had everything Barbie- even down to the Barbie Corvette (it was an automatic car I sat in and drove). I had a Barbie Doll cake for my 5th birthday for crying out loud. I was a girly girl for sure.

10. Any random picture:
Since we are approaching Halloween, I wanted to take you back to Halloween 2005. David was 2, and this was a picture of him from a party at his then daycare. Hard to believe how quickly the years have ticked by.

I'm not going to tag anyone, but if you do this on your blog, link back so I can see some of your favorite things and memories!

Compassion

2009-10-15T00:04:00.002-04:00

October 15th is like a ticking time bomb for me. It's a reminder that I am still in the trenches of infertility and loss. I will always be no matter where my journey ends.

I've blogged on this day over the years, and each time I do... I feel emptiness reflecting back on such sorrow. For the first time since the start of my infertility journey in 2005, I did not experience a pregnancy loss in the last year. In fact, I haven't even had a pregnancy since February 2008.

The RPL'er looking for one good egg now can't even get pregnant with a good egg.

How rich in irony that is.

Please take some time today to consider that while some of us are very much "out of the infertility closet" (bloggers, anyway) that many women do not have a place like this to vent, and cry, and commisserate with others.

Show compassion.

Listen.

Sometimes the ugliest scars on a person who has experienced loss are not visible. Sometimes they are hidden very well.

It does not mean they don't exist.

Peace today to all of my sisters-in-loss,

Weeds

2009-10-14T08:53:00.004-04:00

I hate the fact that lately I haven't had much to say lately that was positive. If you all knew me IRL you would know that I am (mostly) a glass half-full kind of girl. Sure, you can beat me down with a stick, but I am like that dandelion that keeps coming back on your almost weed-free lawn. Resilient.

I am requesting another job within the company I work for (it's pretty much a done deal, just waiting for the final word). I've decided that this is not necessarily a bad thing. Part of my problem at work is the company itself (could go on for hours on this topic), and some of the people as well have driven me to the point of insanity. It does not, however, extinguish my personal flame for wanting to succeed in something I am good at. The fact is, I want to work. Work replenishes me when the chips are down (and they have, haven't they?). I need to work. And maybe a change of scenery would be a welcome change. My ultimate goal is to do something I like, and I have a crazy grand plan in my head. I am pondering a complete career shift. Too early to talk about yet- still kicking out the cobwebs and figuring out the financials.

Secondly. You all know I HATE starting drama. I just don't do it as a rule. I have enough infertility drama to span a lifetime, so I am never one to pick a fight.

But I am pissed OFF at a fellow infertilty blogger. It was a few posts that set me off into the deep end. I was offended. Twice. I considered commenting, but then I remembered the golden rule... "If you can't say anything nice about someone, don't say anything at all." No, I am not linking or divulging here in this post. It's childish. But I will tell you I promptly removed this person from my reader.

The thing about blogs... they are so personal. Many of us open our lives to complete strangers in the hope that we find a common bond, a kinship with another who has walked our path. So coming into contact with someone that beats down their own kind? Disrespectful.

The world we live in...

2009-10-12T07:40:00.004-04:00

Yesterday, we bought pumpkins to decorate and put on the front step.

David spent a considerable amount to time drawing a vampire, a skeleton, and a graveyard with markers on one pumpkin.

He proudly put it on the front step last night.

This morning, we woke to smashed pumpkins on our front lawn. Our ghosts in the tree were pulled down and destroyed.

Looking down the street, I see the vandals threw potted mums and destroyed other neighbors yards as well.

This makes me sad.

How do you explain such crap to a six year old?

The Downpour

2009-10-05T09:19:00.000-04:00

Coming off of a stellar week, and when I say "stellar" I say that with the most sarcasm I can muster.

I've been sick since last Friday, with some sort of head cold/sinus infection. I can't even describe the amount of pain I was in over the weekend. I can tell you that I seemed to have passed my cold to S., and David has been acting a little wonky, and wonky=sick is coming. This despite washing our hands until raw, and coating my house in a thin layer of Lysol and disinfectant.

Rule #1: You cannot STOP the germs.

On top of all of this, S. found out his job vanished last week. Poof! It's a veritable Halloween nightmare. It's almost comical, really- that partnered with the news I received recently that my own job is pretty much toast (the job will go by the holidays, along with my sanity) . So we know one job is gone for sure, we are just waiting for the pink slip. Possibly both.

I'm not going to lie. I am steps away from losing my mind. That being said, we are coping. I don't know how, but we are. We have begun preparations for the hurricane of job loss. Around now, I would be starting a Christmas list. Not this year.

I've been diverting my attention with David activities. He has soccer 2x a week, and just started cub scouts (which he LOVES so far). Poor S. had to do both without me this past weekend. I was lounging in bed with a cold ice pack on my head and hyped up on caffeinated hot tea.

I should mention that a sinus infection + Lupron is a bad mix. So for my friends cycling, if you feel a sickness coming on RUN (don't walk) to the doctor for antibiotics. Or suffer the worst headache you've EVER had.

I'm just sayin'...

Proof my life revolves around Infertility and Handbags

2009-09-29T13:32:00.000-04:00

I'm not one for blog statistics, but once in awhile I dig in to see how people have happened upon this blog.

I call it the Keyword Boredom Buster. Last time I posted about this I focused on some of the serious/heartbreaking search terms, so this is the more lighthearted version.

"is a 5 day transfer a good thing?" well, sure, if it works!

"jack sparrow pregnancy" oooh, is this the new twist for the next Pirates of the Caribbean installment? Something tells me this is stretching Johnny Depp's acting range. No- a pregnant male pirate is not an image I want in my head. But thanks for putting it there.

"fortune for getting pregnant" well, I can tell you it hasn't appeared in any of my fortune cookies, but if it does, I'll let you know.

"i'm infertile and I hate celebrities" yeah, me too.

"help, I'm trapped in a zoo" I hope you're not in the lions den. Good luck with that.

"cheap handbag looks expensive" You are KILLING me! This just does not exist. It DOES Not.

"is ringing in my ear sensing danger" Are you on my favorite show, Heroes?? ...either that or you have an ear infection. I'm betting ear infection.

"only infertiles are intelligent" I like you.

"is transfer implantation" I hope you are someone googling this because you are intrigued by the media's apparent lack of intelligence in that they simply CANNOT get the terminology right (especially with regards to recent events in the news). You TRANSFER embryos, not IMPLANT them. Using the word "implant" implies that people that undergo IVF should SUCCEED, and we ALL know how untrue that is. Oh hell, I just stepped onto my soapbox. Stepping down now.

"I love coffee more than husband" Disturbing and truthful.

"I'm stored in the closet" Hopefully, you have some nice handbags to look at. Is it dark in there? Wait, are YOU a handbag?

He did the Monster Mash

2009-09-22T09:46:00.005-04:00

Going to the RE's office has become a death march of sorts. I can hear the music in my head as I walk from the parking lot to the door.

♫Duh, duh, da-duh, duh da duh-duh-duh-duh da-duh...♫

The waiting room has changed over the years. I really now feel like I've morphed into the "Norm" (Cheers, anyone?) of my clinic. I walk in and get the twenty questions game from my favorite staff and nurses. The newbies in the waiting room have that look on their face, as if they are thinking "egads, I hope I'm not here long enough for that kind of entrance..."

For me, the waiting room is always a step away from the worst moments of my life. And the exam room is always a reminder of the failures. I don't remember the zillion follie checks, just the ultrasounds where I got bad news. It is never a good day when you get bad news while you are spread-eagle on an exam table with the hootchie cam in place. It's a worse day when you have to go to the "Consult Room" immediately after an u/s.

That's where the monsters live...

I considered going to the "big-farther-away-office" to escape having to face that dreaded room I've grown to hate. But my new found devil-may-care attitude said, "screw it, let's just get on with it."

Check in hand for one complete FET cycle (ouch), consent forms ready, I went today for my suppression check.

All is well.

Dr. Nerd was present an accounted for. His usual geekiness was bearable when he exclaimed that we are "not done yet". "You put your trust in me to put a baby in your arms, and I am not stopping until I do."

Really doc? Because watch your words unless you plan on throwing a freebie DE cycle my way.

I guess this train has left the station (again). I'm not sure what I am feeling. Except to say the Lupron coursing through my body now gives me additional leverage to freak out and blame it on hormones once more.

No turning back now.

There goes my psychic connection again...

2009-09-17T10:08:00.003-04:00

When I wrote that post on Tuesday? It was immediately before I had the worst conversation with my employer in my life.

In. my. life.

Coincidence? I don't know, but sometimes I scare myself when coincidence is far too repetitive.

I am ready to plan my departure from the corporate chess match. I am done. Maybe I can live on my dream job as a barista at Starbucks.

Man, I wish I could share details, but I won't because there could be eyes here, and damn you Blogger for not having a pw protect option for posts.

It is most sad and maybe, just maybe.... a sign. Bigger and better things (and less stress) are ahead. It's not even the money anymore that matters. I refuse to check my reputation at the door. I will not be insulted.

===========

I am also struggling with blogging. You know it already, and I've been singing a sad tune for a month now, but honestly I am out of words.

I know it's my state of mind. I know I am depressed. I know I need to spend time avoiding a nervous breakdown. I just need to start a plan.

I am mad at myself for not taking care of me. I'm not sleeping, and (surprise) the fat girl (that's me) isn't eating well, if at all. Why is this momentous? Because I am used to stuffing my face to deal with any kind of stress. That is how I operate- until lately. There is no joy in food, and THAT my friends is a sign I need to figure out what the hell is wrong with me.

So please bear with me. I might be here less. I might comment less.

But please don't leave my side. I need you my friends.

The Career Path

2009-09-15T07:54:00.004-04:00

Can you trace back a major life decision to a specific point and time?

When it comes to my career, I can. I like to think that it chose me.

I recently uncovered a crumpled up piece of paper in my desk while I was cleaning last week. It was the original Help Wanted ad from my local newspaper dated Dec 18th, 1992.

"Wanted: Sales assistant for innovative software company in PA/NJ area. Must have some computer knowledge and a strong will to succeed in a fast-paced industry. Call J. @ xxx-xxx-xxxx."

Simple and somewhat intriguing. So I called J., a sweet Southerner from Georgia who agreed to meet me for an interview. We met the week after the New Year, and she offered me the job on the spot. I confessed that my computer knowledge was limited (EVERYONE's was in 1992), but she said she had a good feeling about me.

And so I entered the corporate world on that day. With only my bachelor's degree and a two-years post graduate work history that included retail and a stint at my Dad's construction company. What she saw in me, I have no idea.

My first day, I was assigned a HUGE desktop computer and a cube to sit in. I had never seen the Windows Operating System in my life, in fact, the only time I touched a real computer was in college to print out assignments (and it was JUST a Word Processing machine). And a little bit of dabbling in MS-DOS. That was college in 1986-1990.

In 1992, the Internet was still a foreign concept. Few companies were using e-mail systems, and the company I worked for had only one competitor. But we were good, we were the "Google" of the time. Our competitor hated us because our e-mail and desktop software was infinitely better. And in the early 90's companies were banging down our doors for software and services. Our door.

That translated to profit. A lot. And one of the perks of my job was I also served as the person who set up team meetings and conferences. I had no budget. I traveled everywhere with my team. Exclusive hotels, spas, locations. Dinners at exclusive restaurants. It was an embarrassment of riches, and even though my paycheck was minuscule compared to the sales folks, I got to ride the wave with them. I got Tiffany jewelry and clocks for awards. I met celebrities. I saw and did more in those years than I would ever in my life.

In my twenties, no less... heaven.

Then, in the mid-90's we were acquired by a conservative technology company. We kicked and screamed for years until they finally completed the acquisition. Some of my co-workers jumped ship to start their own companies, some of us hung on. Some failed in their start-ups, some came back. Some retired. Software sales was a dog-eat-dog world, and the mantra was work hard, play hard... 24/7.

It was exciting to be a participant in the revolution of the Internet, Messaging, and Collaboration. I went from a naive young girl with no computer experience to an expert... trained in the trenches with my teammates.

As time went on, the climate changed. The perks went away. The travel went away. I lost my job no less than 3 times, and was lucky enough to find another position within the company each time.

17 years later, I am still hanging on.

And I can't believe that this all started from a 5-line Help Wanted ad.

And J., who saw that light in me and took a chance on a young and inexperienced girl with no career direction.

What decisions have you made that permanently altered your life's path?

First Day Jitters

2009-09-09T09:21:00.007-04:00

I don't know who was anticipating the first day of school more... me or David.

Anticipating, as in... nervous anticipation.

If you remember, last year I made the rookie Mom mistake of hanging around in the school hallway "just to see" how David was in his classroom. I peeked. As you also might remember, I caught him doing a very un-like David thing... silently crying (I call it the under-the-radar-big-boy-cry). Which made me cry.

To. this. day. my heart breaks when I think about it.

This year, my objective was a no-tears day. So we ushered him onto the bus and waved goodbye. Fifteen minutes later I met his bus at the school gym for the annual Parent Paparazzi event (picture a mass of parents with cameras). I distracted him as much as I could to keep his mind occupied and it worked.

The kids lined up by classroom, and 10 minutes later, he walked the same hallway to his NEW first grade room. This time- a wave and a smile.

No tears (well, not that I know of anyway). I did not follow.
------------

Today, first day jitters for me as well... of a different kind. Today is CD1 for my FET cycle. Well, you can call it CD1 just for posterity because there really isn't a first day in an FET, except to say the first day for the meds leading up to it.

Today I start 2 weeks of BCP's soon to add in the Lupron (which I just LOVE as you know). Transfer is set for October 27th. I got to pick the day.

Funny how easy it is to schedule an FET.

Far too easy.

Grumpy mcGrumperson

2009-09-04T14:14:00.004-04:00

Things That Make Me Grumpy (Long Weekend Edition):

1. Waiting all week to get my Chick-fil-A fix, and getting fries that are overdone and unseasoned. Argh! The tragedy!

2. This. Isn't she, like, OLDER than me??? Where's the fairness in that?

3. Making call #967 to medical insurance company only to be told everything in their universe takes 10-14 days to process (even though they told me 10-14 days 20 days ago).

4. Breaking my nail trying to open a can of soda- after I just painted them.

5. Finding out that the SPAM filter on my e-mail account has captured and EATEN 50% of my e-mail in the last two weeks because the upgrade I applied changed a setting. (Sorry if you sent me an e-mail recently and I haven't responded. Resend if it was important and you jumped to the conclusion that I am ignorant).

6. My hair is falling out! WTF? I don't know if it's coming off the meds or stress or both.

7. Missing little D. He's currently with the G-Parents down the shore celebrating his last weekend of summer vacation.

I hope you all have a nice weekend, and remember, do not use your just painted fingernails for leverage. Especially if you don't get around to painting them often!

635

2009-09-03T07:30:00.001-04:00

It's hard to believe I started this blog three years ago.

635 posts later... strangely, not much has changed.

In speaking to a friend yesterday, I mentioned the weirdness of time- how the years are going by so fast, yet in some instances... achingly slow.

When I think back to the first couple of months posting to this blog it makes me a little teary. I had experienced just one miscarriage back then (and a chemical pregnancy that didn't make it to 16dpo), but I still had a never-ending supply of hope and resilience.

Hell, I would give *anything* to have that back.

I guess things have really changed.

Class is in Session

2009-09-02T09:21:00.000-04:00

While my latest blog post is still brewing in my head, I wanted to let you all know where I've been spending my time over the last week.

As I prepare for another school year with my son, I have two timely posts on this theme:

Click over to my review blog to read my latest book review from one of my favorite authors, Phillip Done. Phil is a third-grade teacher, and his newest book was just published, "Close Encounters of the Third Grade Kind- Thoughts on Teacherhood" is required reading for the start of this new school year.

Also check out my latest New Jersey Moms post, "The Lost Art of Handwriting", where I pine over the potential extinction of handwriting in today's cyber-charged world. I may be a blogger and technology geek in my day job, but I often love to abandon my keyboard for a pen and paper. Is handwriting going the way of the dinosaur?

Highs and lows

2009-08-27T15:17:00.003-04:00

David just had his last day at summer camp. He often rambles on to anyone who will listen about his adventures this summer. Swimming, skating, bowling, dancing, and his visits to two zoos, two museums, one theme park, the "theater" to see a real stage production, and numerous trips to the ice cream shop and movie theater. He had a great time.

In two weeks he starts 1st grade. In the meantime, we will be ramping up for school and sharing some serious 1x1 time. I am scheduled to be off for the entire first week of his school so I can sit at home, bite my fingernails, and watch the clock while I wait for bus stop duty.

Next week also starts soccer, and soccer practices. Practice being a new thing this year since he's on the big boy team now that he's 6. Also means more work for me.

When I look at the upcoming calendar for the next few months, it looks overwhelming. I am having one of those moments when I wish I didn't have to work. In fact, I'm back to figuring out if I could swing a leave of absence. The money is not even half the issue (I could survive), it's the fear that I could be laid off in the meantime. Still hanging by a thread as always. S. is also still hanging by a thread at his work too. We try to ban "work talk" because it only depresses us.

Not a time to be part of the "out of sight, out of mind" equation, methinks...

I'm also trying to figure out where to go from here- as in, my mental state.

I am realizing that I have some major issues to deal with that perhaps I cannot solve on my own. I've never visited a therapist in my life (except for the mandatory ones for this past DE cycle). I'm not sure I can even afford one, but I do know that I am not myself anymore. This has been a cumulative effect and really has been building over the years. This last month (failure and scary moments) seems to have accelerated my feeling out of control.

I am sad, a lot of the time. I know that much of my state is temporary (or is SUPPOSED to be), but I am worried that I cannot lift myself out of my funk this time. I'm just not me.

Aaarggh.

... what to do, what to do...
I just don't know.

Watch your step, there's danger afoot...

2009-08-24T08:41:00.008-04:00

The first time I had a panic attack was in February of 1999. I was traveling for work (a week in Austin, TX) and the morning I left home I was to leave Austin and catch a connecting flight in Memphis, TN to get home to Philly.

Unfortunately, when I got to Memphis, I found my connection was cancelled. Seems there was a roving snowstorm covering much of the Northeast. I happened to have a first class seat, which back then gave me the ability to walk the terminal to any airline and get the first available seat on any plane (I doubt the airlines follow this agreement anymore).

Anyway, I got a seat on a flight to Cincinnati that would connect me again to Philly. I got there after a long delay only to be cancelled again and find a new flight that would finally get me home. Well, you get the idea. I flew from airport to airport only to get more bad news. In that time, I ate little, and had about 5 Venti Lattes. I was hyped up on caffeine. I got on the last flight out of the airport (it was nearly midnight) and we sat on the tarmac waiting to take off.

And we waited.

Soon the pilot's voice came overhead, "weellllllll..." (you know it's never good when you get the drawn out 'well') "we are #29 for takeoff... hopefully we will take off before they ground all flights again."

I just about lost it.

In fact, I did.

My face flushed, my hands went clammy, my heart started beating a million miles an hour, and my head started to practically blow off. I couldn't breathe.

It was a panic attack. And the only reason I did not completely lose it was the nice businessman who talked me down and gave me all of his supply of Tic Tacs and bored me with tales of his sales calls as a consultant for a prosthetic supply company.

After that day, I became completely claustrophobic.

I had "almost" panic attacks many times since then. All being when I was in a confined area. The next most memorable one being the time my family and I were trapped in a hot elevator. Remember that?

So much so that I am fearful of elevators now. If I have the option to hoof it on the stairs, I will. I am still "uncomfortable" in planes. Especially the small commuter planes that only are 3 seats wide. I will myself to stay calm, but inside I feel like I could almost pass out.

Why am I telling you this? Well, recently I had another panic attack.

In Targ.et.

In the baby aisle.

You see, we still buy tons of baby wipes and bubble bath. So as much as I would like to avoid that section, I can't.

One Saturday, S., David and I went for our normal trip to stock up. The boys were still in the Toy section. I happened to walk down the aisle to grab a box of wipes and realized I was on the wrong aisle. I was about to course-correct, and a very pregnant woman dropped something on the floor in front of me. It was (I guess) her own registry or maybe someone else's, and I immediately bent down to help pick up the papers on the floor for her. She looked relieved and thanked me. I can't remember exactly what she said but something like "I am overdue." and I smiled. I turned to walk away and ended up on the baby accessories aisle to make my way out and I caught my eye on a teething ring.

David had the same teething ring as a baby. For a moment I thought 'hey, weird! they carry the exact same teething ring as the one I bought (maybe here- even) 6 years ago.'

And then, I felt my face drain, I was hot, my heart started to pound, and I had the faint ringing in my ears. At that point, I saw S. and David with the cart, threw my items in, and made a bee-line to the bathroom.

S. didn't notice my mental state as I walked away. To be truthful, I attempted to hide it. I stood in a bathroom stall for a few minutes until I regained composure.

It was horrifying.

Since that day, I had another close call at a store (that sells high-end baby stuff) when I took David to buy a backpack for school. I knew I had a baby gift to buy as well (and heck I was already THERE), so I literally ran though the infant section expecting it might happen again. I didn't. But the person at the cash register was slow, and I almost just walked out because I was at the verge of overwhelmed (I could have fainted at any moment when I felt my heart pick up speed).

Can I tell you how this is so unlike me? I am a complete wreck.

I am so embarrassed to talk about it. Over this weekend, I just have come to the conclusion that Infertility has pissed on me again in the worst way possible.

I have many years of gifts (birthdays, Christmases, and otherwise) for babies in my future. My friends and family have children, and certainly they will have more.

I will have to walk into these stores many times in my life, for the rest of my life.

And now, I have this completely new, ridiculous phobia.

A blogging friend, Rebeccah, recently wrote about PTSD rearing its ugly head during her latest trip to the GYN. And Cecily wrote about an equally horrifying experience too.

The triggers are like landmines on a minefield. Always one step away from disaster.

You can't expect to live through so much loss and disappointment and be able to escape unscathed. There is no amount of compartmentalizing... no cure. Even beating the crap out of Infertility and experiencing success doesn't give you the ticket out of Hell. There is always that unlikely trigger, just around the corner... waiting.

Nothing guarantees your sanity. Not in a doctor's office, in a Tar.get, or even in the safety of your own home.

Infertility is the gift that keeps on giving.

I am convinced now that this is true.

Summer's End

2009-08-21T11:29:00.004-04:00

Quite possibly the cutest kid on the planet.

Yes, I'm biased. And once in my life... I was really lucky.

How much?

2009-08-18T11:57:00.005-04:00

I just can't seem to get my head together.

I'd blame it on the heat wave, but sitting in my air-conditioned home office I haven't spent much time outside to blame heat exhaustion (although I almost fell over weeding my flower beds yesterday).

I am working. Work is good. It completely removes all thoughts about bills, insurance, failure, and the fact that I am entering year five of infertility hell.

I know it's a sick thought, but if this last DE cycle tanked from end to end (and I had no frozen embryos) I could begin to move on. I would do so with lots of therapy and foot stomping, but I know I would at least.... move.

But the reality is that I spent thousands of dollars and mortgaged my home for this, and I can't just let the frosties sit there. I am afraid if I take a break I might give up.

See? I told you I was sick.

So, I haven't even paid the bills from last month, and now I am embarking on more. The bad news, no more sucky-but-covered-a-little-of-my-bills insurance. Everything is 100% on me from here on out, so I placed a call last week to the billing person at the clinic to send me a quote for an FET. Quickest response I ever got from a billing person. I had it in writing two days later in my mailbox.

Yowza.

Of course, it pales in comparison to the fresh cycle. But honestly, when you add the monitoring (minimal) and drugs (which I *thought* I could get covered, until I realized that I can only get anything paid that doesn't need authorization which is like such a small portion of the total amount) it isn't the cheapest venture in town.

And once again, I am soon to be back on a "calendar". This makes me angry and sad at the same time.

Curiously, I am not excited to start this at all. I am hoping to sleepwalk though this entire FET.

I know...

what the hell is wrong with me???