I cried a lot yesterday. Where did it come from? It wasn't that really intense sobbing, just so many tears, the lump in the throat kind of crying. Then, I was in a terrible mood. But in a weird way, it was kind of cleansing. I feel okay today.
I want to have a baby. I want a child or two to raise to be good people. When I used to apply and interview for jobs in special education, I would often talk about one student in particular, and what was so satisfying was helping him navigate the world. Helping him to make connections himself. Watching him grow, incrementally, over the course of the year, knowing how much effort it took him. And me. It was exhausting, and frustrating, but in the end, it was extremely satisfying.
I just want to start from scratch. With one of my own. My therapist asked me what would happen if was sick again. Miserable physically, again. Well, I know now how to advocate for myself. I can begin with a doctor who is responsive and communicates and takes my concerns seriously. Who is educated in my high risk conditions.
Shortly before we lost the boys, I realized I would probably be puking the whole pregnancy. I resigned myself, but I knew it was worth it. I also started asking my doctor to step things up. Too little, too late.
I won't say I didn't have moments where I wondered what the hell I was doing. Or just wanted it all to be over so I could just feel better. I won't say I don't feel just the teeniest bit guilty. More than the teeniest bit.
I spent some time yesterday thinking about what our life might look like if we had no children. It would be okay, but all I could feel was this hole. I fully recognize that at this point, there is a very good chance that we won't get pregnant again. That we won't be able to have children. And really, we would be okay. We would just build our lives in a different way.
I think my bad mood yesterday had a lot to do with resentment toward the idea that I didn't want it, when I do want it.
I have said that I didn't know if I could survive if we lost another baby. To be honest, I don't know how I'd get through. And I don't want to do that to C. We are still working out the grief (both his and mine) from losing the boys. I'm afraid of getting sick again. I'm afraid of all the work, that I'll be a sad mom, that I'll make (the inevitable) mistakes. I'm afraid I'll want another one and that I'm too old. That my eggs will be too old.
And I don't want to be one of those women who focuses on the pregnancy and doesn't look at the implications of bringing a child into the world, and being responsible for that child. I worry that I can't do it. That we can't do it. That a baby will arrive and I'll think "oh my god I don't want this." I think that's where my questions come from. Is it worth all the aggravation and stress? Is the love enough? Is the joy enough?
C and I have a lot to talk about. A lot of work to do. Figuring out how we've changed, who we still are after the last year and a half.
Maybe six months will be enough time to figure some of this out.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Self-Indulgent Spewing
I had a writing teacher who told me that if I had a sentence or paragraph or chapter that just didn't seem to improve, no matter how much you tried, maybe it's not supposed to be there. Or will come out some other way.
I just spent an hour and a half writing and re-writing stuff. And crying.
*****
My chest kind of hurts. I'm sad, still. I'm worried about what kind of parent I'd make. I'm disappointed myself, because it still hurts to observe others' joy. Especially when that joy is baby-related. I'm worried that I'll never get that joy again. That even if we do have kids, I'll be a sad mom. I'm worried about how people see me: oversensitive, too sad for too long. I hate that sometimes I think bitter thoughts, or say them out loud.
I hate that there are awkward pauses when I talk to family members about my sister. Because they don't want to be insensitive. Or rather, I hate the reason for those pauses.
I hate that I cry when I think of her having her baby. And not with joy. But with selfish sadness, self-pity, and envy.
*****
I was thinking about the joy (earlier when I was trying for an hour and a half to write) and I remembered this:
When I was alone in the car, I sang mushy songs to my boys.
I just spent an hour and a half writing and re-writing stuff. And crying.
*****
My chest kind of hurts. I'm sad, still. I'm worried about what kind of parent I'd make. I'm disappointed myself, because it still hurts to observe others' joy. Especially when that joy is baby-related. I'm worried that I'll never get that joy again. That even if we do have kids, I'll be a sad mom. I'm worried about how people see me: oversensitive, too sad for too long. I hate that sometimes I think bitter thoughts, or say them out loud.
I hate that there are awkward pauses when I talk to family members about my sister. Because they don't want to be insensitive. Or rather, I hate the reason for those pauses.
I hate that I cry when I think of her having her baby. And not with joy. But with selfish sadness, self-pity, and envy.
*****
I was thinking about the joy (earlier when I was trying for an hour and a half to write) and I remembered this:
When I was alone in the car, I sang mushy songs to my boys.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Another Worcester Day
Gray, rainy, chilly.
I'm doing better, but not consistently. The Cym/Well combo seems be working, and reducing the Klon.opin. But if I"m late for a dose, by a few hours, I can feel it. And it ripples for hours.
Holding off on the cer.clage, probably until I'm pregnant, but, as C notes, my mental health is most important. The only problem with that is my 39th birthday looming in July, and the school year starting in August. Getting the TAC requires at least 2 weeks recovery, potentially 3. I will likely be teaching next semester, so I can't just take time off in the middle of things. Which means we wait to try until October-ish**, so I would be at 9 or 10 weeks during winter break, and would use the break to recover. (Of course, if we were more ready, we could get the TAC over the summer so I don't have to worry about timing recovery.)
Six months seems so far away. And my eggs are aging rapidly. But my head is not together. I've talked to Dr. Shrink, and he is beginning to consider options I could take when I'm pregnant. And of course I'm the poster child for potential PPD.
C is also depressed. We are going for couples counseling this week to try to improve our communication and functioning. Our house is a mess. MESS.
My sister is somewhere in her early third trimester. 28 weeks? I don't know. She will likely have a section a week or two early, in early July. Happy birthday. It's becoming harder and harder to talk to her about it, to talk about it at all. At first I thought I'd cry with joy, or bittersweet joy. Now I think I'll just cry. Sadness. Bitterness for what I lost, even though I am so very, very glad she will have finally reached her goal. I hate I can't just be happy for her, can't go visit her. She understands. But I hate it.
My cousin's wife, you remember, the one who announced her pg before the pee stick was dry? Yeah, well, she's due in about a week with their third child, their third boy. Aside from morning sickness, a nice healthy pregnancy. Aside from random complaints about being tired or feeling huge in her status on facebo.ok.
My cousin's younger sister, L, is getting married in early August (two years ago, it was her older sister, and I was exactly 4 wks pg with the boys). I don't think I can go. My sister will be recovering from her c-section and dealing with her newborn. My cousin will have a 3 or 4 month old baby. What a happy occasion the wedding will be. New life. New lives beginning. Isn't it wonderful A had her baby? Oh, and this one, too.
And really, I am happy for them.
I'm sorry this is a big jumbled mess: I'm not going to be able to deal with all the joy. Isn't that rich? All the oohing over my cousin's child, all the talk about my sister's. A beautiful wedding. Beautiful family.
And I am just now getting back on my feet. I am more stable. I am starting to be able to look forward, professionally and personally. We are not ready for a baby right now. I want to be. I feel so thwarted and out of control, with my body, with my mood. And I can't believe how much I want a child. I don't even know why. I just do.
*****
Wow. This is such a depressing post. I guess I needed to get it out. I've been wanting to post, but the words just rattle around my brain. Need to get them in order for school, too. Just need to write, I guess.
*Assuming I'm successful in getting viably pregnant on our first or second try.
I'm doing better, but not consistently. The Cym/Well combo seems be working, and reducing the Klon.opin. But if I"m late for a dose, by a few hours, I can feel it. And it ripples for hours.
Holding off on the cer.clage, probably until I'm pregnant, but, as C notes, my mental health is most important. The only problem with that is my 39th birthday looming in July, and the school year starting in August. Getting the TAC requires at least 2 weeks recovery, potentially 3. I will likely be teaching next semester, so I can't just take time off in the middle of things. Which means we wait to try until October-ish**, so I would be at 9 or 10 weeks during winter break, and would use the break to recover. (Of course, if we were more ready, we could get the TAC over the summer so I don't have to worry about timing recovery.)
Six months seems so far away. And my eggs are aging rapidly. But my head is not together. I've talked to Dr. Shrink, and he is beginning to consider options I could take when I'm pregnant. And of course I'm the poster child for potential PPD.
C is also depressed. We are going for couples counseling this week to try to improve our communication and functioning. Our house is a mess. MESS.
My sister is somewhere in her early third trimester. 28 weeks? I don't know. She will likely have a section a week or two early, in early July. Happy birthday. It's becoming harder and harder to talk to her about it, to talk about it at all. At first I thought I'd cry with joy, or bittersweet joy. Now I think I'll just cry. Sadness. Bitterness for what I lost, even though I am so very, very glad she will have finally reached her goal. I hate I can't just be happy for her, can't go visit her. She understands. But I hate it.
My cousin's wife, you remember, the one who announced her pg before the pee stick was dry? Yeah, well, she's due in about a week with their third child, their third boy. Aside from morning sickness, a nice healthy pregnancy. Aside from random complaints about being tired or feeling huge in her status on facebo.ok.
My cousin's younger sister, L, is getting married in early August (two years ago, it was her older sister, and I was exactly 4 wks pg with the boys). I don't think I can go. My sister will be recovering from her c-section and dealing with her newborn. My cousin will have a 3 or 4 month old baby. What a happy occasion the wedding will be. New life. New lives beginning. Isn't it wonderful A had her baby? Oh, and this one, too.
And really, I am happy for them.
I'm sorry this is a big jumbled mess: I'm not going to be able to deal with all the joy. Isn't that rich? All the oohing over my cousin's child, all the talk about my sister's. A beautiful wedding. Beautiful family.
And I am just now getting back on my feet. I am more stable. I am starting to be able to look forward, professionally and personally. We are not ready for a baby right now. I want to be. I feel so thwarted and out of control, with my body, with my mood. And I can't believe how much I want a child. I don't even know why. I just do.
*****
Wow. This is such a depressing post. I guess I needed to get it out. I've been wanting to post, but the words just rattle around my brain. Need to get them in order for school, too. Just need to write, I guess.
*Assuming I'm successful in getting viably pregnant on our first or second try.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Surfacing
Sorry to disappear like that. I've been pretty up and down, trying to get my head together (hah) and figure out when that might happen so I can try to make my body behave. Dose changes don't help.
And I can't blog on C's computer. It's weird, you know, it's just not mine.
So thanks for hanging in there with me. I'm hanging in there, too, and reading.
S
p.s. thanks to all who left info on Dr. H and on computers -- your input is much appreciated!
And I can't blog on C's computer. It's weird, you know, it's just not mine.
So thanks for hanging in there with me. I'm hanging in there, too, and reading.
S
p.s. thanks to all who left info on Dr. H and on computers -- your input is much appreciated!
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