It Sneaks up on You

Just sitting around waiting to ovulate. It is day 20 of my cycle and still no jump on my temperature. I usually ovulate around day 16-17. All signs are pointing to it happening at any moment. Although I am not surprised that things are a little weird this month since this cycle started from the loss of Emily the Embryo. Emotionally I have been doing good. My tactic of dealing with my emotions by keeping physically busy and not having time to deal with my emotions is working like a charm. Sure, not the best way to deal with things but that is just how I roll. I fully expect to be blindsided and have emotional repercussions for years to come but in the short term, things are fine and that makes me fine. It won't be the first time I have avoided dealing with my uterus issues. The day after I was diagnosed with my UU I started researching adoption. We had planned on adopting at some point, but talk about jumping into DOING something. We signed with an adoption agency less than a month after my UU diagnosis. I wouldn't change the way it worked out for the world, but then 3 years after the diagnosis I suddenly got the itch to get pregnant because I never truly mourned the loss of not having a biological child. And here I am now, dealing with this next chapter since I never dealt with it several years ago.

Anyway, none of that was really what I was going to write about.

Mostly I go through my days not thinking about what I lost or what could have been. I have lost track now of exactly how many weeks I would be, 8 or 9 maybe? Could it be more than that? I know my due date was supposed to be August twenty-something, maybe the twenty second. I can't even remember. Running through life and doing and filling my days with projects has kept me from falling into a complete funk. But there are still signs. Things happen and I suddenly I remember that I was pregnant, that I was supposed to be expecting a baby, that I was excited and scared that our entire little family was going to change. I thought I put everything out of sight. In one of my drawers is the congrats card a friend gave me, the one positive pregnancy test I have ever seen in person in my entire life, and the one lone u/s photo that labeled the gestational sac. I put them there together because I want to remember and be able to revisit, but I want it all tucked away too.

I sat down to read a book a few nights ago. I had been using an old grocery shopping list for a bookmark. I just happened to glance down and written on the list was "parents' surprise". I wrote it like that because I didn't want whoever happened to read my list to know what it really was. But I knew. I still know. That surprise for the parents were the bibs that I bought that say "I love my grandma". Those bibs are still wrapped up in Christmas paper and up in the attic. I put the gifts up there in a spot I would remember so I wouldn't be surprised when I came across them. Instead I got a big surprise when I looked at my bookmark and suddenly I was forced to remember what I don't have, the secret I never got to tell, the excitement on my mom's face when she heard the good news, finally getting to be in the club of people who talk about their pregnancies and births and their children as newborns.

Today I was cleaning out my purse. It has been a long time since I got around to doing that. Along with the loose change and all the matchbox cars I keep in there to entertain the kids in a pinch, there was a folded up piece of paper. I had no clue what that was. Then I unfolded it. It was a list of questions I took with me to my RE that I never got to ask. I had intended on asking him all kinds of questions about my pregnancy and the next steps and things I should and shouldn't do. Instead I was told that Emily the Embryo implanted in the most ridiculous of spots and instead of joy and anticipation, I would be faced with surgery and a healing process that could last a lifetime.

I could have lost it. I could ripped that piece of paper to shreds and ran off for a good cry. Instead I folded that list of questions back up and put it back in my purse. You never know when I might need to ask my RE those questions about what to do when I am pregnant.

A Ton of Bricks

A friend of mine found me on facebook today. We had an odd friendship. We were competitive and catty in high school. Or should I say, I was competitive and catty towards her. Not really sure if it was reciprocated. Somehow we were still friends and became better friends in college. She went to a different college but come summer time, we hung out a lot. We talked a few times post college but eventually lost touch. Then in walks facebook.

She sent me a message that I read about 45 minutes ago. It was just a simple message telling me about her life in the past few years. But now I can't shake it. She has a daughter now who is about the age of DS1. She said prior to her daughter, she had a miscarriage and wallowed in depression and self-destruction (drinking and partying) after that.

At first I just wondered how I should respond. She gave me her phone number. Should I call or message her. But more importantly, what do I say? How much do I tell her? Really, how much do I tell anyone? It is a question I haven't figured out yet. I've been asking myself this question for several years now. Fertile or infertile, we had planned on adopting, just hadn't planned on JUST adopting. So, do I mention the infertiltiy? And now this new chapter of loss (and a completely bizarre lost that can't be just explained away with one word: miscarriage). There are people I keep thinking I should just tell the whole story to, tell them that I lost a pregnancy. Then things happen and I decide not to tell or I don't run into them when I had expected I would. I don't want to lie about what happened, or necessarily hide from it, but I feel at the same time I have to. It is like I either have to tell everyone or no one.

I thought I was doing good. Sure, I had an emotional train wreck not so many days ago but I felt that I was back on track. I felt that I wasn't wallowing in depression and self-destruction. But I am. In my own weird fashion that makes it easy for me to hide. Heck, so easy I was hiding it from myself.

Just feeling oddly bleak about the upcoming however long it takes to move forward with this. And I think I am just digging a deeper hole, like this will just get worse before it gets better. Next cycle we are going to try again. I'm back to my fearful way of thinking that it won't work out and all the emotions of loss and never having a biological child will just come flooding over me. With each failed cycle we are just that much closer to it being a lifetime failure. And there is new loss to be had. What if I do get pregnant? There is a higher than normal chance that that too will just end in loss. I can't even put into words what is on my mind. I don't know what is worse right now: the fact that I just realized that I am on the edge of the hole of depression and ready to jump in or that I know that the only way to get through all this shit is out the other side. Now I am depressed about my fertility history/future and depressed because I know the only way to stop being depressed is to endure it and let it run its course.

And I still have to figure out what to say to my facebook friend. How can I tell anyone what I have been up to for the last couple years without having to explain in some part my reproductive history? I'm really tired of my life revolving around my uterus.

Blood

I got a call from my RE's office today. I had a feeling of dread as soon as I saw the number but then quickly decided they were probably just doing a follow up to see how I was. Not a follow up. My RE was reviewing some blood work of mine. I think it was all the blood work they did two days after I found out I was pregnant, one day before I found out that I shouldn't be happy that I was pregnant because it only meant pain and misery. My glucose level was slightly elevated (normal range goes up to 99 and mine was 109). Diabetes runs in my family. Lovely. Also my white blood cell count was elevated. They are mailing me a prescription to have those two things checked out again.

I had a boss back when I worked who never went to the doctor. He would tell me about all these horrible symptoms he had and when I suggested he go see someone about that, he would tell me that he would just rather suffer than have a doctor tell him bad news. I thought he was crazy. I totally get him now. I'm done with bad news. Just done done done. I still hope for the best, but I expect the worst.

While I was waiting for DS1's preschool class to let out today, I was listening to some moms chatting. The one woman is pregnant and I think she is due in 2 weeks. I started off all excited for her and interested in the conversation. Then, as always happens, each lady started talking about how when she was pregnant and how she looked and how she felt and things about the birth. I looked the other way. I have nothing to add. And right now I don't feel like I will ever have anything to add to that conversation. Most of the time this doesn't bother me. I have my own story about how my kids came into my life and I am willing to bet my story is far more awesome and interesting than theirs. Today not having a pregnancy/birth story made me feel like shit.

Emotionally, I feel like crap right now. Probably the worst I have felt since those couple of hours after surgery. I'm sad. I'm angry. I'm alone with no one to relate to. Physically, not feeling so hot either. I did some laundry today since it has been over a week since that was done. I thought I could handle it. I thought if I just went slow and steady it wouldn't be a big deal. About halfway through getting one load together I didn't think I could finish. I was exhausted. I hurt like hell. My whole self just feels spent right now.