Thursday, February 26, 2009

So my dad is on FB now.

Yippe for me, right?

The thing is, I love my dad. I do. We had some rough spots but we get along fairly well. I can't say I'm sorry to live 3+ hours away and only see him in small doses. There is more friction when we butt heads in larger doses. But he complains I don't answer my cell phone (which I frequently leave in my purse and consequently don't hear) or email him (because he only sends forwards. seriously.). So he's thrilled to have mastered this technology that allows him to be in more contact with me.

I actually groaned aloud when I saw the friend request. Because I like him a lot, but ugh. That means censoring myself more than I have in the past. And it meant I immediately deleted any references I could find to this blog (maybe I'll be encouraged to actually go on ahead and get the family blog up and running). I don't mind this being open - it's fairly anonymous. I don't mind my friends or family reading if they come via FB - there is a giant warning posted to the side that clarifies what this is primarily about. But my dad? Squicky. As far as I am concerned, I do not need to know he has a sex life and he doesn't need to know I have one. I mean, I am living proof he once had a sex life (with my mother. EW.) and I presume he does with his current wife. And babies will pretty well present him with the same conclusion about me and Jason (which I assume is an ew on his part). But we don't need to be getting all explicit, if you dig. Let alone put out discussions of my vaginal fluids for him to read.

But the bigger issue was that I never actually told him that I had an ectopic pregnancy. Really, of our families, I told my mom and my sister. And my cousins on FB might have seen it. That's it. I sort of was under the impression that either my mom or sister told my dad, but apparently not (it's so random what makes the rounds). We didn't tell anyone at first because we didn't know what was going on and Dh really wanted to wait until we heard a h/b if we were going to hear one. More time passed and we didn't what the fuck was happening and finally we knew but it seemed awfully bizarre to call and say 'Uh, so I was pregnant, but it wasn't viable, and soon I won't be anymore!' so we didn't.

But I wasn't thinking about that when I changed my status, and I referred to being tired of being poked and prodded and driving across town for tests. Whoops.

The chat conversation that ensued was something like this (this is paraphrased):
"Tests??? What tests?"
"Oh nothing important. Just some levels the doctors are monitoring, no big deal."
"What's wrong? What are they looking for?"
"Just checking to see if the hcg is down."
"What is hcg?
"Uhm, the hormone that is present during pregnancy."
"So you're pregnant again??"
"No. Well, I was, and I guess I clinically am, but not really. There is no baby growing, anyway."
"So you had another m/c?"
"Well, not exactly. It was ectopic."
"When the embryo implants and tries to grow somewhere other than the uterus? In my case, in the cervix."
"So it can't grow properly or survive and it can damage stuff and is sort of dangerous. If they didn't stop it, I could have started hemorrhaging and might have needed a hysterectomy."
"And you had one of these ectopics?"
"But now you don't?"
"No, I had treatment. They gave me a shot of a chemo drug to stop everything growing and we're just waiting for hcg to get back down to 0."
"Oh. Maybe you should lose some weight. It might help with the babies."


Sure thing, Dad. I'll get on that.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Update on the ole ute.

Or, really, to be accurate, I should say cervix.

Last beta was 73. Down from 343 two weeks prior.

Down is good. Yay for down.

Slow is bad. Boo for slow.

But the OB isn't strictly concerned - but does want me to repeat in a week to see how much lower it gets. At this rate, I'm looking at least 2 more draws, as he has to follow me down to under 5.

The bright spot in this (with my temps all over the place) is that another week or two before 0 pushes the next ovulation back a week or two. So it makes it more likely that I will be 8 weeks post shot (or more) before I ovulate again, which means that I may be in time to ttc on the next ovulation, which would be great.

Might not work, of course, but I do hate waiting to try and have been hoping I don't miss the next chance or be faced with breaking down on the principles of waiting at least 2 months post shot. So, there is that! That would be good.

Still think the greatly increased bleeding was period, and likewise still spotting. It is definitely lighter and brown only, so that is a good sign. Let's cross fingers that it continues to get lighter and lighter and actually goes away before we hit the 3 months without sex mark, shall we?

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Giving up and letting go.

It's Fat Tuesday! I celebrated by wishing for a fish sandwich from Wendy's. I'm rather obsessed with them. I learned my wish was granted when the microwave at work stopped working and heating up my soup was no longer possible. YAY! To stay in points, though, I am nixing tonight's hamburger in favor of something lower in points and adding extra broccoli to dinner.

But really, the more important thing that comes up on Mardi Gras and the point of this post - everyone asks 'What are you giving up for Lent?' Well, first it is important to note that I am not actually Catholic. Dh was raised in the church, and when we dated I intended to convert, but the more I learned the more I realized I couldn't do it. There is much I admire about the Catholic faith, but I simply don't agree with large chunks of the theology/dogma and I felt it hypocritical to join if I was lying when I said I believed certain things. But of course, other Christian sects 'celebrate' the rites of the Lenten season too. I don't actually belong to those either. I don't actually attend any church. I have planned to, but after bad experiences, I tend to shy away from organized religion and only attend services during the high points (and then they tend to be at Episcopalian or Catholic churches).

But I do believe in God, and I believe in Christ and I do observe many Lenten rights. I will attend Ash Wednesday services tomorrow and I will participate in giving something up for Lent. Now for me, and I mean no offense, I always thought it was sort of dumb to give up something like candy or soda for Lent. I mean, self-sacrifice is good and it has it's place, but I was always taught that Lent was a time for real, raw, honest reflection on the state of your relationship with God and that sacrifices during Lent were to be about removing that which separated you from God so that you could approach the Easter season with a fresh heart and rededication to God. I've also been thinking about what to add. A very spiritual friend shared a few years ago that she tries to sacrifice something, but often she sacrificed convenience or time to extra services, to extra volunteering, to more prayer or reading Scripture or extra tithing and from that she decided to focus on one thing each Lent that she wished to add to increase her spiritual life. I've always found that a wonderful idea.

And that's the approach I take. I try to honestly examine my life and find what is most blocking my relationship with God and work on getting rid of that. At the same time, I try to add something good back in to fill that void. If it is done right, it becomes habit and ultimately binds you closer to the Lord.

I used to not share what I gave up, because it is so personal and it seems so much like posturing and show. Again, I apologize if I sound judgemental at all, but I think back to college to people who were not religious and who didn't believe in God giving up cursing or drinking for Lent, only to find ways to slip it in. What was the point?

Anyway, I've done a lot of thinking about my relationship with God. I've pushed it away in anger and I've questioned it in bitterness. I have wallowed in both, even against my will. t has only made me loathe myself and be disappointed in myself, it has only hurt or strained relationships as people have had to tiptoe around me or feared upsetting me. I do think much of it is natural and I do not think I have consciously encouraged it, but I have allowed it. And it has not benefitted me.

And I do think that I want to renew a relationship with God. I think my life has been lacking without it. I feel less together, less centered, less purposeful and less happy. I do apologize now if you are reading this and rolling your eyes because this sounds so much like an infomercial for God and Religion and all that jazz. I'm not generally fan of uber-Christianity or in your face spirituality, so I hate to sound that way myself. But I can see where there is a difference and I liked things better when I felt on more sure footing and wasn't carrying around a good deal of unhealthy emotion.

So . . . I'm letting it go. I am giving up my anger over my losses and my bitterness over my losses for Lent. Hopefully forever. Now, this is going to be a little different than your traditional Lenten sacrifice. For one, the Easter bunny better not fucking bring me a basket of it for consumption on Easter morn. But also - I expect to slip and I expect to struggle and I expect that it will not be a smooth course. But I am going to try because I think it will let me have a relationship with God again - after all, I am the one pushing it away because I am angry and hurt. But also, I think I will be a better and happier person and that I will have better and happier relationships for actively working to rid myself of this negativity.

I don't know how this is going to go. I don't know if this will work. But I know I have to try. The past cannot be changed. I cannot undo the ectopic pregnancy and I cannot have my Chickadee back. But I can have happiness for others, I can rejoice with them in their healthy pregnancies. I can look forward to the future with hope and not let my life be ruled by fear. I can love and be loved and that is worth any effort on my part.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Gorgeous Day.

Today was totally lovely.

It looks like I perhaps did not ovulate after all. Meh.

I am getting negatives on alllll the opk brands now and the faintest positives you ever saw in your life. Fun times. I have learned that the newer digitals are extremely sensitive after all, as I got a 'Pregnant' with one. So, that's good to know for future reference.

I lose 5 pounds last week. Another 20 to go! I need to get back to the gym. That is the goal for tomorrow when dinner just needs to be reheated. Sigh. I hate the gym, but I want to meet my goal of losing at least 2 pounds. I would love to hit 3-4, but I really want to lose at least 2. I can do that if I work out this week. So I will!

Still bleeding, but it seems like it's slowing down. I hope that's not just wishful thinking. I'll reserve judgement for now though.

And that's it for the moment. A quick update, and nothing else, lol. I don't feel particularly verbose today. So, yeah. Cheers, all!

Wait - one thing. Eating an apple as well as Fiber One bar = major, major gas. Fan-tas-tic.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

So, uh, about that . . .

Um, I've had a lot more spotting lately. It went from almost non-existent tinted cm to tan, to brown, to darker brown and a lot more of it to red-brown to heavy spotting and culminated, as I mentioned, in ruined underwear. So fed up, Thursday night, I retrieved the diva cup and put it back in. It was more full that it had been previously with the spotting when I emptied it (yes, this is one of those tmi things I warned you about, feel free to skip ahead) in the morning, but not drastic or anything. When I emptied it yesterday evening, it was very full, like startingly so. At least a half-ounce in there if not more. I sighed in resignation that the bleeding had returned. Frustrating, but not outside the bounds or something to be concerned about yet.

Same thing this morning - over half an ounce in there, but a slightly longer time. And it's totally red. I'm feeling hugely disgruntled and annoyed that I am suddenly and unexpectedly experiencing so much damn bleeding when it occurs to me that, uhm, it's very much like a period. Similar amounts, similar build-up . . . and I have completely broken out and have crazy oily skin, despite the fact I've washed my face twice a day the last couple of days. Which, right, yeah, that happens during a period.

Oh, and my temper tantrums yesterday - and crazy mood swings? Er, yeah, that's 100% normal for me during a period. As is the weird achiness I've had and the kind of random cravings, and the fact that mid-week I was down 3 pounds, only to have them gone again . . . totally normal.

To be fair to me, I haven't had a normal period as part of a normal cycle since July so I think I can be forgiven for not recognizing this more quickly. I had anovulatory bleeding in August, then got pregnant, then miscarried, then got pregnant and had a period, but it wasn't normal, then all the spotting/bleeding and this isn't exactly normal either, though it is almost 5 weeks post shot. This would technically be anovulatory bleeding, not a real menstruation - so what is with the mood swings and other shit?

Well, the totally random and funny thing? I've been getting very faint tests that are clearly positive, but light, and very dark positive opk's (which is different than my other experience with using opk's as hpt's . . . I didn't get a + opk until my hcg was quite high, over 35 at any rate). I didn't think too much about it until I took my temperature this morning and it shot way up. 97.1 . . . not normally post-ovulatory range, but my temps have been far lower recently because we've turned the heating off and the ambient temperature is cool. Everything's averaging 2-3 tenths lower . . . and if this is a clear thermal shift. Too early on one temp to say it's ovulation . . . but it's possible. Oh, and those things - the mood swings, break outs, etc - also happen briefly around ovulation. Rock on, body!

Ovulation and a return to cycling are possible with small trace amounts of hcg still present. And an lh surge with hcg present could very well give you a clearly positive opk and a faintly positive hpt. I will take both again tonight and see what I get. How utterly and completely random would that be? Both ovulate and get my period at the same time? And how fun for me, eh? Another possible period in a week and a half or so. UGH.

And it brings the timeline question back into play. DH and I have discussed it, and we were both 100% ok with 10 weeks post shot. And he's totally ok with 8 weeks post shot, though I'm nervous. So . . . we'll just wait and see what happens next, shall we? This is so bizarre.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Today has become a bitter, bitter day.

I'm not feeling good and happy for others today, not without a pep talk that I don't feel much like giving myself.

I realized that I am not going to have a 2009 baby. The earliest I can have a baby is 2010 (unless I get miraculously pregnant next cycle in a way that would allow me to deliver a full term baby early in late December -if you follow).

And that is 1 cycle away from the year mark. One year ttc. We started in May 2008, in time for a mid-February baby. As much as I wanted to be one of those lucky cycle 1 pregnant ladies, I was secretly sort of relieved that I would have a spring baby, which is what I really wanted. I am laughing out loud at that, but it's a pretty grim sound. Back when I thought things like that mattered.

Now obviously, the year mark for me is different than the year mark for someone else - after all, the next cycle will only be cycle 6. I've had 2 pregnancies during this time, not bad for 4 ovulatory cycles, I suppose.

It's just grimly amusing - dare I say ironic? I can never remember what is really ironic since Alanis Morrisette screwed me up with her stupid song - that the annoyance I felt with having a baby in an odd-numbered year is no longer an issue. I was supposed to be ttc #2 now, in our original Life Plan. #1 in 2008, #2 in 2010, #3 between 2012 and 2014 and if we wanted, #4 by 2016. Done by 36. It was perfect. Allll planned out.

Then I took a hard, realistic look at our finances and we both agreed - it wasn't the time. It was a bitter pill to swallow, pushing off our plans for a full year. But it was for the best, we were agreed and I tried hard to remind myself of that whenever I felt a wave of jealousy over someone else's happiness. How awful of me, I chided myself, how selfish - especially when we made the responsible decision on our own.

I was desparate for summer of 2008 to arrive. It had been nearly 2 years since we first decided we wanted kids soon and I was already chafing under being so near 30 for the first child. Again, I find myself laughing humorlessly at my old self.

It came, we tried and I was disappointed. We tried again, and I was disappointed. We tried again and I was frustrated by an anovulatory cycle and our intensity, as if it was some sort of competition was making us both unhappy and frustrated with the whole process. Then . . . we got it right. And Chickadee came along. And went away. And then this . . . and 'this . . .' is still going on.

2010. An even year. Better luck next time.

I feel brittle, depressed, a little manic right now. I am desparately craving a shot of something alcoholic and choking and hard to match my brittle mood. I do not know how my friends who have had losses and have had IF do this. They move through with optimism and hope and only the minor occassional freak out and they are so graceful and strong and I am a hot fucking mess.

I am in a fucking BAD mood.

Five gazillion little things going wrong.

Tiny little mistakes that fuck up everything (like leaving my lunch at home. I am a FAIL at WW today. I know that the program is designed to accomodate things like this, and you can use all your weekly allowance points, but if I'm just going to eat crap and whatever, why am I doing this. FAIL.).

Feel exhausted. Muscles hurt, house is not clean.

STILL SPOTTING. For fuck's sake. It's been over 2 months, with three long actual bleeding episodes. And I had to wear PADS for most of it. I'm still 'pregnant' and I'm still bleeding. If this had been normal I would be in the fucking SECOND TRIMESTER right now. This fucking sucks. I ruined another pair of new underwear - all but the remaining 4 new pair are stained now. I feel awful and I am so goddamned tired of it. Fine, it's not a real pregnancy, whatever. But why do I have to be punished on top of that? It's been almost a month. I think I should have stopped bleeding/spotting by now, especially when one considers that I bled for 6 weeks before treatment.

I am just feeling utterly drained and totally exhausted right now.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Some good, some not so good.

The not so good:

1. Still getting clearly positive tests. Annoying.

2. Fighting with the cable company and lying contractors who claim they came and called and no one answered or was home to let them in. We've been fighting for 6 months with Comcast to get our cable buried. The necessity of this action became urgent when the HOA told us we'd be fined. They missed 2 more appointments (burning DH on a vacation day and ruining our Valentine's Day plans) before not showing when I burned a vacation day yesterday. But this time, we had a corporate manager coordinating everything and proof the contractor lied - so now my cable is buried and I have a lovely service credit. Thanks, Daniel N! Still, it made for a long sucky day.

3. Not having a whole lot of food in the house, making it difficult to eat well or meal plan effectively.

4. Some stuff at work. I screwed up. My fault. Nothing major - just things slipping through the cracks or me falling behind, miscommunications or misunderstandings . . . it's frustrating. I want to be as close to perfect as possible and today I felt like I let my coworkers down when someone called me on the carpet for screwing up. I take that hard. I know I'm not perfect. I know no one is. I know that we all screw up things and nothing tragic happened. But I also know I wasn't doing my best for awhile there. All I can do now is do try harder to be more organized and more diligent in follow through so I know that I'm doing my best.

The good stuff:

1. I've done pretty well so far on WW, despite the limitations of groceries. I have gone over my daily total only twice, and then deliberately. Switching it up a little each day is good to keep the metabolism guessing. I still have 29 weekly allowance points to use by Monday (if I want). I've met my health checks every single day. I already feel loads better, and I'm pleased with myself. Hope it shows on the scale.

2. I got some good stuff done in the house. Slowly (painfully slowly) but surely, we are moving towards a clean house. Things have been less cluttered and the bathroom is finally, beautifully clean (apart from the floor - all the floors are happening this weekend). DH has been keeping the kitchen clean and I so appreciate that!

3. I have written over 100 pages and over 50,000 words on my story. I am feeling the direction coming and can begin to see how the individual pieces thus far will meld and form the basis for the rest of the story.

4. When I had my chocolate tonight (I try to eat some every day, but only a little, and I'm rocking that), I got an orange cream. I love orange cream. What a great end to a fabulous meal.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Waiting and Dilemmas.

So my pregnancy test last night was very light, faint, even. Tonight or tomorrow night, I expect a negative test.

Which means the mandatory wait cycle will have finally, officially have begun.

Most people who miscarry are told to wait a cycle (ie, until after their next period) to begin trying again. There are exceptions to this, of course - I was specifically told I did not need to wait after Chickadee as I had not had surgery. Some people are told to wait longer, because of infections or retained tissue or to let the lining build up enough. There are a lot of reasons for this. People who are treated for ectopics with methotrexate are told to wait too, but it's a bit more serious.

There are two reasons for this. One, the drug metabolizes quickly, but can potentially be stored for awhile longer in your kidneys or liver. The drug itself is contraindicated for pregnancy, as it can stop a pregnancy from developing and has been linked to birth defects. It is a teratogen, and as such, you really, really shouldn't try to conceive too near having received the drug as treatment for anything. Two, it inhibits folic acid and strips the body of folic acid reserves. And of course, most of us who are trying to conceive know how important folic acid is in the prevention of (and lessening the severity of) neural tube defects. So the prenatal vitamin may not be enough folic acid on its own (which also increases the risk of miscarriage, btw).

Two very good reasons to wait until you are cleared to begin trying to conceive another child, right?

Absolutely. For what I'm about to say next - remember that.

The problem I'm encountering is when I am actually cleared to ttc again. The OB said I was fine after 1 cycle, except for wanting me to wait a full year and drop 100 pounds. A fair number of others have been told the same thing - a full cycle and then you can try again. However, a larger number of women are told to wait 3 months before trying again. And conventional wisdom and the majority on the internet seem to agree with that (though again - there is plenty of talk about just 1 cycle).

So . . . 1 cycle or 3 months? And what is the difference? Well, it's already taken over 3 weeks for my hcg to drop to levels where my reproductive cycle could start functioning again. Next week will be 1 month post-treatment, so one down before my wait cycle is anywhere near over. Assuming I resume normal-for-me ovulatory function (which - that is an assumption. anytime after a miscarriage, ectopic or otherwise, your body can go wonky for awhile. it can take awhile to start functioning again, it can have an anovulatory cycle or two, it can have strange-for-you cycles), I would ovulate around 14-20 days after my period ended. Let's take that as when my hcg hits 0 for grins and say that happens around 2/18 for an example date- that would put ovulation between 3/4 and 3/10 - we'll split the difference and say it happens around 3/7. My next period would come about 12 days later, around 3/19. I would then expect to ovulate around cd 23 or April 15. That is a little under 2 weeks shy of the 3 months post-shot mark. And that is assuming things go normally. If it was later than that - that would be ok. I would be near enough to 3 months not to care.

But what if it happens earlier? What if I ovulate on, say, Feb 25? Then I can expect to ovulate again at the end of March. Which . . . is just over 2 months post treatment.

And that leads me to where I am right now. More than 10 weeks post treatment (or a mid-April ovulation), I am pretty comfortable with that. I've read enough to believe the drug is in fact gone from your system pretty darn quickly. And that anything retained in the kidneys or liver is gone too. After all, we are given very low doses to treat ectopics. One woman consulted a geneticist because she had to do another round of IVF two months post treatment or it would be entirely out of pocket. The geneticist said she was fine - the geneticist herself said that 1 month was more than enough to be out of any danger zone when it came to potential birth defects.

So where does the 3 month wait come from? Apparently, methotrexate isn't FDA approved for use in stopping pregnancies (though it is the standard and recommended course of action, recognized by ACOG and AMA and other sorts of pretentious initials). The point is that because of that - there haven't actually been a lot of studies about when it would be safe to try again. The studies that have been done have focused on women who received continuous, high dose treatment (like chemotherapy or treatment for arthritis). They are recommended to wait 6 months to ttc, but some don't or end up pregnant anyhow, and those that were 3 months post treatment seem to be just fine. So . . . that's why it's recommended that a woman wait 3 months, far as I can tell from my research. Even though the scenarios are completely different, given that a single low dose is metabolized within days, if not hours.

But since there are proven risks, and there are some studies saying 3 months is fine, general wisdom and ever-present threat of malpractice have combined to make that the standard.

So it's not clear at all - 1 cycle or 3 months.

Normally, I'm all about trusting your caregiver. They are the people with the education, the folks with the most complete picture of your health and who are the best qualified to make a judgement. But . . . obviously, I have some trust issues with my treating physician, and I certainly am disregarding his advice to wait until I've lost 100 lbs to ttc. As someone pointed out to me earlier when I posed this dilemma to friends and sought their opinions in a WWYD scenario - it is possible the doc didn't proscribe ttc for 3 months because he assumed I'd do it anyway while I lost weight.

And speaking of - every.single.person I asked said they personally would wait to ttc until 3 months had passed. My mother agrees. All because of that very slight possibility of birth defects. The what-ifs and the fear of the crushing guilt were something to happen. And believe me - it's on my mind. Hence - why I asked.

I worry about that too. I worry about another miscarriage and it being my fault, I worry about repeat loss testing being delayed or undermined by that. I worry about birth defects caught too late to consider termination. I worry about lots of things.

But I also know that the thought of not trying to conceive chokes me. The thought of voluntarily waiting another cycle to be safe - even though the doc said it was ok and even though there is research to support that pronouncement- it makes me panicky. I have been doing not so hot with this waiting business. Do I want to put a potential child at risk because I am impatient? Absolutely not.

But I'm not convinced that I am merely impatient or that it would irresponsible to go ahead after a full cycle. It's so muddy right now, and I'm not sure what the best options are. It's easy for someone who has not been told to wait (or has not gone through the hell have trying to get my baby - the one who sticks and grows and is born) to say it's just another month or so, what's the big deal? One of my friends who has had trouble ttc summed it up really well when she said - "In this situation, I'd wait. But if my doc told me to wait 3 months, I'd have to go on meds. I would go insane. I wouldn't deal well with it." She understands where I'm coming from.

It was odd - nearly everyone who expressed an opinion apologized for it, because they knew it wasn't what I wanted to hear - which is funny, because I didn't want to hear any particular thing, just get an outside perspective. I'm not seeking permission or validation, just trying to sort through it all. I thank my friends for being honest and giving me more to consider and for hearing me out as I work through this. And I trust they know we won't do anything that we are not 100% comfortable with and that we will only go ahead if we believe the risks of doing so are very minimal.

Dh and I have talked about it and we agreed that we'd wait to make any sort of decision until after my period comes. We know we won't be trying before then, so may as well see when I ovulate and what happens after that. If it's late enough - as in the first scenario - I ovulate in early to mid March and my period comes in late March or early April - well, that puts me past the 10 week post-shot mark that I am comfortable trying in. If not, well, we have hard decisions ahead of us.

Monday, February 16, 2009

That time again - or - I did it.

I finally reopened my Weight Watchers (herein referred to as WW) account. This is a big first step back in the right direction for me. I finally decided that losing 20 pounds before my next possible bfp was more important than confirming all the worst opinions of that asshole doctor about fat people.

Now, granted, eating isn't my biggest obstacle. In fact, I don't lose weight unless I am regularly exercising. So getting to the gym is going to be the bigger step, and I will take that later this week. But a guideline for getting eating back on a tight leash and making healthy eating second nature once again is necessary. WW worked pretty well last year and so I need to go back again. A strict diet doesn't work. Learning to indulge in sometimes foods (thanks new lame Cookie Monster) and getting down to appropriate portion sizes and doing the other things WW forces me to do (track my eating honestly, meal plan in advance and keep up with nutritious, balanced eating all day, every day) - well, that helped me a lot last year. It won't lose the weight for me, but it will make my gym time more profitable and will make me feel much better on a daily basis, both about myself and my body.

I found that after a couple of months last year, I could name the point values in much of my food and I could easily see what I needed to add or subtract. I expect that will be the same this year. I've already remembered that I have to drink a lot more water in the morning (before my latte!) and it will be entertaining to see how this increase in water intake affects my opks when I get there again . . .

But working out really is the main thing I need to do. DH wants to start hitting the gym again regularly - ie, at least 3 times a week. I think that's good if we actually do it. I'm also contemplating buying a membership here at work - they now will give us up to 3 hours per week of work release time to use the company gym if you have a membership. I would think that between 3 hours here and 3 hours there (though it's really more like half an hour at most right now, and will never much more at work, since I'd have to shower and get back to work again on time), if I also add in a 15-20 yoga practice a couple of times a week, I will quickly get back to being a much healthier person.

I know, I know how much better I feel overall and how well I sleep when I do these things (even if it's just 3x a week total at a gym). And I think they will serve me well beyond losing weight - I think they will help me to ensure a healthy pregnancy if I ever get there again, and that will give me the homebirth I want. I am a fan, in other words. But I am also lazy as can be. This is hard work. It's hard to make a habit in the first place and it's easy to get derailed. That happened last year, and I can't guarantee it won't happen again this time when we get active in trying to conceive again.

But I have to try - there are too many reasons not to do it and give it an effort. I've been procrastinating because of not wanting to give that effort - but I'm running out of excuses. So . . . here I go again. I am dreading it. I'm not happy about it, I'm not looking forward to it, and so far, I'm not enjoying it. But I am doing it and that is the key thing, right?

I hope so.

My goal? Lose 20 pounds (or be under 300 lbs) by the time I could expect to/hope to see another bfp. That gives me maybe 6-8 weeks. I can do it if I try hard.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Hard to take an interest.

So one of my big interests (though that seems like the wrong word for it) has long been natural childbirth. I'm a huge advocate of unmedicated birth and out of hospital birth (responsibly done on both counts). It's something that I have spent a long time studying and researching and something I believe strongly and firmly in. I have planned on having a homebirth and that is the primary factor in my seeking midwifery care over obstetric physician care.

In fact, if I had my dream job - it would be childbirth educator/doula. Seriously. If I win the lottery tonight, I will be a SAHM (stay at home mom) part time, especially for the first few months, and then I would do every certification and training I need to in order to be an effective educator. I would love that.

I used to be on the spot whenever a question arose about natural birth or whenever an argument was brewing. If someone wondered about different methods of pain control, I was there to give them advice and if I the wondered about finding a midwife or choosing out of hospital birth, I was all over it.

It's truly something I feel passionate about. Not in a 'everyone must do this' way, but I do believe that if more women were really educated about how childbirth is supposed to work and were offered really informed consent, they would demand changes in our maternity care systems. This is near and dear to my heart.

Only . . . I can't do it right now. I don't know if I can do it anymore. I have seen a few questions in the past couple of days about these topics. There was quite a heated exchange earlier this afternoon over an article published in Consumer Reports about the overuse of technology in maternity services (which was entirely accurate). As inevitably happens, someone came in and ranted about how she and her baby wouldn't be alive if her doctors have saved them with an emergency c-section when her induced labor failed. That may very well be 100% true, but it was irrelevant to the article. But someone got snarky with her, she was snarky back . . . normally I'd be right there, facts in hand to discuss and diffuse the situation (because snark truly doesn't help and only reinforces the unfortunate stereotype that natural birth enthusiasts are a bunch of judgmental bitches).

But I couldn't muster more than a passing interest. Because honestly? It seems pretty much a giant waste of time equivalent to intellectual masturbation to continue jumping in when I don't know that these will ever be options for me. And not in the usual I hope the baby isn't breech and I am not high risk way. In the dear lord, I don't know if I will ever get to have a normal pregnancy that approaches term way. It's really, really depressing. I fear that life is trying to make an irony of me and my enthusiasm by taking away my opportunity to experience these things.

I think it's one of the things that most angers me about this situation. These are my life dreams. Be a mother. Have children. Raise children, enjoy pregnancy. Have a homebirth and a wonderful natural birth experience using Hypnobirthing. Learn all about childbirth and coping methods and teach them and/or be a doula. These are things that I have held most dear and they are all pushed away, all denied to me.

How do you cope with that? How do you move on away from that? Is my bitterness, my anger more understandable? It's giant chunks of my life and my hope ripped away from me with the remains of my children. And it's left me very empty.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

The Diva Cup

Love. Lovelovelovelovelove.

I cannot rave enough about the diva cup. I think everyone should try them.

By this point, you are already nodding in agreement, shuddering in disgust or wondering what the fuck I'm talking about. The Diva Cup is a small silicone cup that is used to catch menstrual fluid in the vagina during menstruation. It is different than the Instead Cups - those are inserted much higher up, near the cervix and are not reusable. The Diva Cups are reusable (for years) and sit low in the vagina.

They are fantastic because they hold up to an ounce of fluid (for reference - an average period will contain 3-4 oz of fluid total) and can be worn for up to 12 hours before they need to be emptied and washed. They can be immediately reinserted. They can be worn at the beginning and end of the period as well, and because they are not absorbent like tampons, they don't create that awful dryness (and can decrease risks of TSS*). I have never had a leak with my cup, ever. If you have a heavier flow, you simply empty the cup oftener than every 12 hours. Cleaning them is easy - they are emptied into the toilet, washed with soap, reinserted and then boiled for 20 minutes after the last use at the end of the period. They can be rubbed down with alcohol as well for additional sterilization. They are extremely comfortable - even better than tampons. I cannot feel it at ALL. Since I started using it, my cramps have lessened in severity as well.

There is a bit of a learning curve to inserting them and removing them, especially if you've never used applicatorless tampons or alternatives to tampons (like sea sponges). But it's not hard and once you figure it out, it takes seconds. They are reusable, and because they are reusable, they are far less costly than pads and tampons (and new underwear). They are also green, because outside of the initial packaging - there is no packaging to dispose of and no waste product to dispose of.

It's funny because every single person I've ever talked to who has used them LOVES them. I'm sure there are dissatisfied customers out there, but I haven't met any yet.

Likewise, nearly everyone who learns of it and isn't already into eco-friendly things like cloth diapers or soap flakes and homemade vinegar based cleansers freaks out. They think it sounds messy, disgusting and gross. I think that's funny. I mean, I get it. Sticking fingers in your vag and putting in a cup and taking out a bloody cup must seem pretty gross. But the reality is that for me, it's been far less messy than tampons. First, no leaks. No drips. The outside of the cup is clean and it's easy to take out and simply dump into the toilet. Inserting it can potentially be a little messy, but again - no messier than inserting a tampon on a heavy flow day (applicator or no applicator). I don't get my fingers and hands all bloody like I did before. It's especially helpful if you have clots, imo, because the cup catches them rather than the clots leaking around the tampon, or worse - coming out with the tampon and getting all over everything because they don't really 'stick' to the tampon. Or any gushing when the tampon is removed - ick.

But then, I also know that I'm abnormal with a lot of this sort of stuff in that I am perfectly comfortable checking my cervix regularly and I'm the type to be interested in vaginal childbirth rather than disgusted and I want a mirror to watch my own deliveries when that time comes. I get genuinely puzzled by people who are grossed out by this stuff. It's just really foreign to me.

I mean, no judgements. Everyone is grossed out by different things and everyone finds a menstrual product they are loyal to - but this is mine. If you've never heard of it, I encourage you to check it out further at - if you have and shudder - well, lol, that's ok too. But I promise it's not as icky as it sounds! It's made me a much happier person when it comes to periods. Far less to dread without mess and hassle.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Time for a happy post!

Not that I'm feeling particularly happy (even though I wore my Yellow Shirt), but I'm feeling far less emotional than yesterday.

So - happy thoughts.

I don't know when it happened (and I'm vaguely disturbed it happened at all) but I fell in love with fish sandwiches. I can't seem to get enough of them (problematic since they are fried, slathered in mayonnaise/relish and cheese). YUM.

I am going tomorrow to have lunch with an old colleague and friend who has come back into town. I'm really looking forward to that. He was always great to make me laugh, so it should be good times.

I have two new suspense/mystery books by two of my favorite authors at home waiting for me. So very excited by that.

I booked a 2 hour massage for Sunday (yes, Mandi, FINALLY!) and am very much looking forward to it. I may just laze around all day - go have a nice brunch, read my book, then head over to the massage place for my meeting with Raul.

That's about all I got for now. But it's a start!

Monday, February 9, 2009

This is not how it was supposed to be.

That's what is killing me right now.

I waited. I waited until we were more financially stable and had things figured out and DH and I were in a good place. It wasn't perfect - we still had debt and the floors are still ugly and our window treatments suck and we would like a new car - but what in life is perfect? I didn't jump the gun when DH said he wanted to have a baby about 3 months after we got married and I sucked it up when I realized we weren't going to be able to afford it all on my old-job's salary and pushed it off. And I lost weight like they said I should.

I started ttc in 2008. I was supposed to have a 2009 baby. I was supposed to get pregnant relatively quickly (well, I guess, technically that happened), and it was supposed to be a relatively easy pregnancy (not perfect, but no major complications). I wasn't supposed to lose Chickadee, but I did. And I think I did a really decent job of not losing my f*cking mind when it happened.

And so we picked ourselves up and we started over and this is the result. Another failure, another m/c only this is extra special. It's f*cking ectopic. And not just ectopic - a special ectopic that only happens in 1% of all ectopic pregnancies. And it takes weeks upon weeks to diagnose and I get lucky - I get the assiest possible OB and his staff.

And it wasn't supposed to be like this.

Only it is like this and I hate it. I hate how angry I feel and how bitter and jealous I feel and how it sneaks up on me (because it's not there all the time) and how much of a burden I feel, because I don't want to be MC girl or THAT friend who is just too much drama wrapped up in self-pity. I want to scream and shout that it's not fair - but it isn't fair. Life never promised fairness. It's just all so much crap and I hate feeling like I must have done something to deserve this, because why else would this happen?

And I am so envious of people who are together and gentle and kind and loving even with all their burdens and all the crap that life has thrown them. I feel so ashamed of myself for not being that way and for being such a failure to begin with.

I am so fucking angry right now I could scream.

I just called the asshole OB's office again. Because they still had not contacted me about my labwork from last Monday - the one that was supposed to tell us whether or not HCG was dropping appropriately for the methotrexate treatment or whether I'd need another shot. The levels were down very slightly at the 4 day draw, but the 7 day draw is the one that really explains things.

They were supposed to call Tuesday and let me know. I called early Wednesday afternoon when I hadn't heard anything and was told that my liver panel and blood count was fine, but the beta wasn't in. When it came in the asshole OB (I may be paraphrasing here slightly) would call me and tell me where things stood.

Understand that they need to do these draws on a timetable and give another dose for treatment if necessary. Cervical pregnancies are scary things. Mine seemed to be pretty minor by all accounts - but there is a serious risk of hemorrhage and if there is hemorrhage from an cervical pregnancy, there is often a hysterectomy. Because of how the embryo implants - it compromises blood supply in a weird way - that is why d&c's aren't recommended for cervical ectopics and why the advent of methotrexate is so wonderful in treating them.

Now, I've suspected, based on unscientific methods like spotting going away and pregnancy tests getting lighter (though still definitively positive) that levels were going down - but the bloodwork numbers are what you need.

So, I don't get a call Thursday and I get wrapped up in work Friday and forget to call (although, I was told Tuesday, and now it's Friday - wth? they suck). So I called this morning. Got a run around. Have to explain for 15 minutes what I was asking for (the beta hcg level from my last draw and my monitoring schedule), before the nurse finally realizes that the hcg wasn't run Monday, only a cbc and liver function panel. Ok, but uh, the important thing was the hcg level.

The nurse finally says that I didn't follow up with the appropriate blood draw so the doctor can't diagnose the status of treatment until I have another blood draw. I cut her off and said that was not accurate - that I was there last week and had 2 vials of blood drawn. Nobody called to inform me that the hcg wasn't run and that they needed me to come back. In fact, they didn't figure that out until I called and insisted on what I was supposed to have had already.

So I have to go in, a full week late, to have blood drawn again to determine whether levels are dropping appropriately. I am furious. I think they are going down and that treatment was successful - but my PHYSICIAN and his office are really the ones responsible for ensuring that - since I did my part by showing up on time and donating my blood for the cause. It shouldn't have to come down to ME insisting on everything for them to realize that there was a major fuck-up. I could have HEMORRHAGED and LOST MY UTERUS because of their fuck up and they want to say I didn't follow through correctly?

FUCK THEM. Fuck them and their fucking donkeys and their fucking judgmental asshole OB.

I could scream I am so furious right now.

Friday, February 6, 2009

My happy place.

I was talking about escapist fantasies with some friends a few minutes ago and now I'm going to lovingly describe my own fantasy for awhile, whenever I need a break from the work I HAVE to get done today.

It started with the question - If you could be anywhere other than where you are, for the next 48 hours, where would you be?

Me? I'm in bed. Not my bed, though I love it so. But around the bed are the piles of laundry to be sorted and ironed and folded and put away or washed (and all the other things). And the bathrooms need cleaning and the floors need sweeping and everything needs to be dusted and we need to go grocery shopping and in short - as lovely as my bed is, it's not restful right now, and I am longing for restful.

So I'm in another comfortable bed - it's huge and luxurious and I am alone. Apologies to DH, whom I love, but I am realizing that my alone time has been pushed aside recently and he snores, so alone it is. It's a lovely bed and breakfast - very similar to the one we stayed in last time. A lovely huge bed with soft sheets and cozy blankets and piles of pillows around me. I can see the television if I want to, but I don't. At the moment, I am just lying in bed, resting, relaxing and being. I don't have any place to be or anything that demands my attention. I feel no guilt for the things left undone, I am just snuggling into my warm cocoon of a bed.

Breakfast will be here soon. I have apparently asked that it be brought to my room, and I can hear them distantly stirring and soon, the smell of coffee will drift under my door. I go ahead and stretch, and leave my cocoon with regret. But better that than be half dressed, with wild tangled hair and morning breath. So I brush my teeth and put on lounging clothes and find my book and settle back into my nest to read.

I'm re-reading Pride and Prejudice, because I love it so. Darcy has just spilled his heart to Elizabeth and been shot down. It is one of my favorite parts of the book, because yes, here it is - the letter! They are going to fall in love once the misunderstandings are cleared up. And it requires self-reflection and recognition of personal mistakes. It's not just a rom com, you know?

Aha! And there is the door, and breakfast. Mmmmmm. Mimosa, with a cherry floating in it, and a pot of strong, delicious coffee and real cream and sugar for it. There is a lovely slice of quiche florentine, a croissant with honey and strawberry jam on the side. A delicious bowl of perfectly ripe strawberries, cantaloupe and honeydew melon on the side. And how nice! Peanut butter cookies with chocolate kisses pressed in for later. There is a menu option for lunch, which I'll look at in awhile. For now, I've propped myself up with the pillows, tucked my legs under and my attention is refocused on my book and I'm lost in the world of Darcy and Elizabeth once more.

The whole, lovely day spreads before me, open with possibilities and with pleasure. There is an enormous bathtub waiting for me this afternoon, and oodles of lavender bubble bath to soak in. I'll pile my hair on my hair and read my new book - a murder mystery of course - and enjoy a glass of sweet white wine. Other than that . . . there is nothing. Simply resting, and loving the peace and solitude. At some point, I may be inspired to write or to leave the room, but for now, I am full with good food, have a wonderful comfortable bed and a good book urging me to lay down and snuggle in and simply enjoy my old friends until sleep with pleasant dreams claims me.

There is something . . .

Something is coming.

I can feel it. A light pressure surrounding me, or a gentle touch just on my shoulder. It's almost like the change in air pressure before the weather shifts, something you are aware of at a subconcious level, but that you can't quite feel.

Only, it's more concious. If I focus, I can feel a charge around me. It's neutral though, I can't quite pick up whether it is positive or negative. I just feel the difference. It's like I am being told to be still, be alert and to wait for now.

I don't believe much in psychics; I think they are largely frauds out to fleece you. I do believe in empaths and I do believe in angels and demons. I don't believe anyone can know the future, but sometimes . . . if you stop, you can read the signs and you can feel things.

This is presentiment, and it's very strong and very odd. It's not quite 'something wicked this way comes . . . ' or 'buy a lottery ticket tonight' - it's just . . . there. A feeling, an urge, a something that makes me cock my head to the side and listen.

I wonder what it all means.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Right between the eyes.

I don't want to get into all the details, it's too much to try and explain. I was feeling a bit morose in the car, and was singing the songs from my list below. I couldn't remember how one started without the music in the background, so I tried to find it in the car. Only I grabbed the wrong tape (yeah, tape. I know. bite me anyway or buy me a new car) and discovered a tape I haven't listened to in years. YEARS.

And I was excited because a song I have loved for a long time was there. It's one that people either love or hate, I think. I love the imagery of the song, it's always struck me as very powerful. At different times, I have loved different parts, but I've always loved the last bit about the moon, because I have this thing about the moon.

This is the song - Jacob and 2 women (The World As Best As I Can Remember It) by Rich Mullins.

Jacob, he loved Rachel and Rachel, she loved him
And Leah was just there for dramatic effect
Well it's right there in the Bible, so it must not be a sin
But it sure does seem like an awful dirty trick
And her sky is just a petal pressed in a book of a memory
Of the time he thought he loved her and they kissed
And her friends say, "Ah, he's a devil"
But she says, "No, he is a dream"
This is the world as best as I can remember it

Now Jacob got two women and a whole house full of kids
And he schemed his way back to the promised land
And he finds it's one thing to win 'em
And it's another to keep 'em content
When he knows that he is only just one man
And his sky's an empty bottle and when he's drunk the ocean dry
Well he sails off three sheets to some reckless wind
And his friends say, "Ain't it awful"
And he says, "No, I think it's fine"
And this is the world as best as I can remember it

Now Rachel's weeping for the children
That she thought she could not bear
And she bears a sorrow that she cannot hide
And she wishes she was with them
But she just looks and they're not there
Seems that love comes for just a moment
And then it passes on by

And her sky is just a bandit
Swinging at the end of a hangman's noose
'Cause he stole the moon and must be made to pay for it
And her friends say, "My, that's tragic"
She says, "Especially for the moon"
And this is the world as best as I can remember it
And this is the world as best as I can remember it

I'm singing along and get to section about Rachel, and dear God, it hit me so hard that I literally was breathless for about 10 seconds and then I was weeping. Full on gasping for breath between sobs, tears streaming down my face shuddering weeping.

I feel ok now, though I get teary thinking about that song even now. It just hit me powerfully and I understand in a way I wish I didn't.

But I get that so well. And her friends say, "My, that's tragic." And she says, "Especially for the moon."

Especially for the moon.

Top 5 songs in the playlist right now:

1. Mad World - Gary Jules
2. Life Ain't Always Beautiful - Gary Allen
3. When I Fall - Barenaked Ladies
4. Long Trip Alone - Dierks Bentley
5. What a Wonderful World - Louis Armstrong

Gee, I wonder if I'm feeling at all pensive and/or contemplative?

(Sidebar! "Which one do you like better?" "The black one." "Yeah, it's more . . ." "Pensive?" "Damn, I was going for thoughtful." - God, I love that movie.)

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Cranky as an ice-maker in hell.

Which has to be pretty cranky, right?

I don't even know what to post. I have about three or four posts I started and discarded. One ranty, venty, judgey one. One sappy silver-lining crappy one. Etc.

The fact of the matter is simply that I am in a judgemental, bitter place right now. I see people getting bfp's and I feel personally insulted. I see people making decisions in pregnancy or with newborns and feel judgemental and angry. I don't want to feel this way, becuase it's awful. It makes me an awful person, and it makes me rude and it makes me judgemental and I know it. I know how hateful I sound and how stupid it is.

I recognize that the universe/God doesn't quite work the way it feels right now. I know that the octo-mom didn't steal my babies. I know that her complete mess of a situation has not a single fucking thing to do with me, but goddamned if I don't want to shriek with incoherent rage and fury that she has 14 kids she cannot possibly care for and I have two failed pregnancies. I know that someone I don't like getting a bfp is not God laughing at me. I know that feeling as angry as I do is neither productive nor appropriate.

It doesn't matter, it just is. I can't seem to shut it off. I'm sure it's just a red herring for fear of the future and anger at the situation and at the fucking douchebag doctor that I still have. Nevertheless, I find myself welling up with anger and bitterness and the whole fucking situation makes me cranky and tired.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

What is your wish?

I have no news, since fucking douchebag doc didn't call with my lab results like he said he would. Asshole. I'm feeling fine, bleeding is nearly gone, so meh. Still definitely 'pregnant' though.

So instead of that, I started thinking about things I wish for or wish would happen.

I would like to wish for world peace and enough food for everyone and that everyone could find their love in life. I think those are good things to wish for and to work towards, but I just don't know how likely they are. So my thoughts turned more whimsical (since the lottery is unlikely to happen). Here are the 5 things I whimsically wish for right now:

- That magic were real and that we could learn it. I can think of all sorts of cool things I'd do with magic, but lamely, I am most excited about cleaning my house and redecorating with magic. Yeah. Lamesauce.

- That I could grow money by planting it in the ground. I would enjoy seeing how that one would grow. But I wouldn't tell anyone else how to do it. Mostly, when people said "Money doesn't grow on trees." I'd just laugh to myself and think "True, it's more of a viney plant . . ." Heh.

- That there was a giant playground (indoor and outdoor) for adults. Just like the kind for kids with swingsets and slides and climbing thingies and zip lines and monkey bars. And indoors - trampolines, rope swings, foamy things, mats, etc. I would get so much fucking exercise if I could play on that stuff like I did when I was a kid.

- That my dog could talk so I could see if the monologue I give to Jason when Jonah is doing something amusing is at all accurate. I bet it is. It often consists of something like this: "Um, Daddy, um, Daddy! Hi! Oh, is that for me? Cause, um Daddy, sometimes you open packages and they are for me. And I like things that are for me. I really like peanut butter. Um, Daddy, is that for me? Please Daddy, can I have some? Please? It smells really good. See, I'm sitting here really nicely and I'll stand up if you want and I'll shake. Do you want me to shake? Cause I will, because I would really like some, and see, Daddy, I'm sitting really good, and OH MY GOD IT"S FOR ME! YAY!"

- That I could choose the weather for a month or two. I think that would be a lot of fun. But I wouldn't want to do it long-term, because that would get boring and if you wanted a rainstorm and people didn't like it, they'd hate you even more than the weathermen. That would suck.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Something worth noting

You know what?

I spent some time looking through and commenting on some old photos from high school and the theatre group (I know you are shocked to learn that a drama queen like me was a theatre chick!) (I am so annoyed that spell check is arguing with me over the spelling of theatre - RE, idiot spellcheck, not ER) - someone thoughtfully put up.

What a trip. It made me dig out the few photos I have laying around and go over them. I generally look at them with a lot of regret. I was a pretty girl with a great figure, only I thought I was a cow. I missed my friends and was sad I'd let things fade with one and was full of recrimination and guilt about the way another relationship ended. I knew that there was so much unhappiness there, but there was also a lot of carefree times - all my bills paid, a little pocket money and a bit of freedom . . . looking through those pics made me miss it all. Made me wish I could go back again.

But you know what? My life is pretty good now. Despite everything I'm dealing with/going through that makes me sad and unhappy and fearful - I am basically happy. I have a husband who loves me for who I am, as I am. I have a home that is sound, if ugly. I have a car that is paid off, if inconvenient. I have enough money to feed myself as I like and to do many of the things I wish and own many of the things I need and want. I have a job, that if not quite what I pictured and not quite what I want, is secure and challenging and apparently something I'm not terrible at doing. I have wonderful friends, a good family and a lot of love in my life.

I'm in touch with not just one, but several old friends again, and I've mended fences and shaken hands (so to speak) with that other friend. Years of sorrow, self-doubt and guilt - gone, and restored memories and happiness and a feeling of warmth and friendship reside there instead.

I may not have a lot of money. I do not have the body I had or one I much want right now. Life isn't easy or always fun - but by God, I am a wealthy woman in all the important ways. Health, happiness, love.

And I am humbled and grateful for these gifts.

Betwixt and between

Well, the weekend was fine. Nothing was accomplished, though I'm very ok with that right now. It was relaxing and fun. Yes, we watched the Super Bowl. No, I didn't much care about the outcome either way. Yes, I'm ready to focus on basketball again -Spurs are looking good! This is the annual Rodeo Road Trip, in which the Spurs have a very long stretch of games away from home as the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo takes place in their arena. It is traditionally a time when the team really comes together and really starts meshing the disparate pieces into place and become cohesive. There is a saying on my Spurs board - SPAM. Spurs Peak After March. This is the gear up to that. They've been playing pretty well - for the regular season - but there is work to be done if they really want to compete for the championship. Now is when that is honed - the defense needs work and they need to learn how to maintain a lead. We get to see how things really stand for the team after the RRT. I was pleased with their last two wins though, fo sho.

Other than that, I'm back to feeling as I did after the last miscarriage (well, in a more sane way). I feel sort of lost. I don't know quite where to post or what to say. I am having a little difficulty being around newbs who are just starting out and around pregnant women - in general, but especially those (the vast majority) who have never suffered a loss or the panic or the fear that I've suffered. Equally, I find it difficult to post on loss boards (too sad or too . . . stuck) and feel guilty for posting on boards for women who've been trying awhile, as I haven't really been - and getting pregnant doesn't seem to be our issue so much as staying pregnant. I feel like a ghost, with no where to go and nothing solid to hang on to.

The one place I feel most comfortable finds me feeling awkard, as babies are about to be born (yay!) and new pregnancies are underway (yay - but how odd to feel . . . not jealous . . . but left behind? we began our last pregnancies together and ended them near each other. I felt left behind when I lost Chickadee, and feel that way again and fear offending or hurting, even though I'm dying to know everything and ask a million questions). Likewise, fertility treatments haven't worked and my heart aches. I don't know what to say though - comfort feels foreign to me right now.

I don't quite know how I feel about things. Again, lost betwixt and between the reason and the light. I wonder where that is from? It feels like a quotation I've just mangled, lol. It's appropriate. I wouldn't call how I feel a mood swing, per se - just . . . shifting. Like the ground beneath me is sand rather than something stable. One moment, resigned, looking forward. The next angry and hollow. The following, scared and listless. I've learned a lot about this and continue to repeat to myself what I know . . . but. Yes, but. I'm not sure what any of it means or what is next to come. I feel like a failure and in the next breath, I'm reciting off the reasons it's all a fluke and I shouldn't worry.

It's a bit of a blur, this constant shifting between faces and feelings. And feeling cut off, adrift . . . it doesn't help much. I tried to write this weekend - there was a moment of clarity about my story, what was coming and where it would go and an important scene and I I could not find the words. This kept flowing around me, whipping around me like a hard wind and I couldn't focus. It is frustrating. My dreams have been realistic, colorful, fast-paced. And I wake to find myself confused and not well rested, but the dreams are vivid in my mind.

It is tiresome, all wearying.