Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Biggest Loser

I had the appointment with our RE. I grilled her on any other possible thing I could do to. The answer was firmly no. The discussion went from how my eggs were still at fault, running down to the donor egg discussion.

The only good thing that came from my visit was the the RE was able to get the endocrinologist appointment moved up one full month. I see her next Thursday. She said at some point that we were becoming less successful with time, to which I had to reply that we have yet to BE successful, and that I'm failing just as well as I did at 34. Tick. Tock.

I am afloat in a sea of ambivalence. Staring at the same damm oars that get us nowhere, eyeing the motorboat of IVF. Throw into the mix a solid fear that the Mr.'s job might uproot us to Philly from sunny CA or he may lose his job with $25k IVF coverage. That motorboat looks ripe for a spin, even if it's not our answer.

Discussions have been grim on the home front. I won't lie. The post title came from one discussion we had that is particularly fresh. It's not feeling like this will ever happen. It's a hard place, indeed.

Work is sucking the creative soul out of me. I apologize. My work is tied to back to school season, which is nigh. My aim for the next six weeks is to not work on Saturdays. I will do my best to pop in and comment/post. It's not you, it's me. Really.

I have been 5 weeks now without my period. Yeah! Woohoo! Right. Which, for those who have been here, is a special limbo of it's own. Like a stuck reset button. It took 6 last time and 4 after the first D&C. I prayed in some desperate ways to keep this waiting short. Alas, my hotline has always been disconnected. At least on this front.

Hope has been a pillow and a dagger on this journey. I have thought many times that hope was the most cruel feeling. Years I've spent dodging it in my thoughts and in my heart. But, here it has fled and left kindling for despair. So if you all won't mind putting up my flyers about town, I'd like hope to come back again. I missed it more than I knew I could.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Putting the Ass in Passive (Aggressive)

I love my mother, but she's a person who doesn't speak up when things bother her, and she is never straightforward in her opinions. I have spent a lifetime working on my relationship to bring her into adult emotionland, where we say what's on our mind, and we deal with our feelings. It's been a rough process and worth it. And yet, for all that work, I am here to train yet another mother, my husband's.

Generous, loving, and self centered, my mother-in-law has an incredible mix of wonderful and awful qualities. And I count myself fortunate that my worst problem with her is just that she never feels like we appreciate her enough. We never, ever take her up on help, we try very hard to not let her put herself out of her way to aid us in any fashion, because it's her thing. She needs. She needs to know that you know how lucky you are. It's the tale of a thousand thank you's. Or a million, wherever we end up on that scale, I'm sure that it will never be enough in the end. Our original sin will be ungratitude. The state of being ungrateful.

Operation have baby growing and avoiding MIL for entire summer is out, but I was bent on trying to keep that last bit. But, the mother-in-law has been a bit crazy all of late. We saw her two weekends in a row at different family events, where she cornered us and conversations would go like this (as they usually do).

MIL: So how's work going son Misfit?
MM: It's been stressful, I was at a conference in Denver...
MIL: I went to Denver, we went to that place with the burgers...what was it. Oh! And we did that bus tour, it was good. Did you get to see the somethingorother while you were there?
MM: I was at a conference, it's not real easy to go sightseeing at those.
MIL: Oh, well Denver. I enjoyed Denver. Did I tell you about our new...

I call it the "let's talk about me" game. She nods her head and hears the first few words and then launches into a tangent about her. Listening would not be a strong suit, clearly. So add up a few weeks of her leaving messages about never seeing us anymore and missing us (I see my own mother once or twice a year), we finally agreed to have her over.

In the middle of the week last week, one of our cousins sent a nice email about planning a big family vacation to Italy or Brazil in two years. A note about how fun it would be to spend time together and how much he looked forward to a family adventure. Well, MIL really couldn't wait to piss in those ripe Cheerios. Her note back was about how they should think about how grandma is too old and depressed can't travel and we can't leave her alone and they really ought to remember that darling baby Clueless (the BIL baby) would be too young to travel for a long time.

We've had a running bet that she's been wound up about her brother moving an hour and a half away and not seeing his mom and that THX-MIL was having to drive her 92-year-old mother to appointments, listen to her bitch and help her pay her bills. Things that keep her from golfing. Grandma is walking and has bad pain in her shoulders, but able to get downstairs to her retirement group, play cards at night, and pretty much take care of herself other than drive herself to appointments and pick up prescriptions. So in my mind, I could see her being annoyed as the sole chauffeur and wanting to bitch about how her brother not pitching in.

Imagine a nice afternoon with a glass of wine, the THX-MIL asking a question she cares nothing for the answer about only to have her segue into, "that's just like me right now."  Huh?

MIL: Did you see that note I sent your cousin?
MM's: Yeah, that was a bit weird.
MIL: I made it pretty clear that I was upset.
MM's: (Puzzled.)
MIL: Do they ever think to thank me for taking care of grandma? Do you ever think to THANK me for taking care of her?
MM's: That was clear in the email about vacations? (Very confused.)

We were like, um, wow. Hi? Strange. Unexpected. I, of course, went on to ask how often she'd asked other family members for help. How many times she'd been turned down, etc. Swords to cut through passive aggressive sludge. But, wow. Who would have thought that she was feeling unappreciated for doing something you do for parents? I had to stifle a giggle at some point, just because it was that petty. Really.

I flew every weekend to San Diego to see my mom in the hospital in March and in recovery, I sent money, I called, I did what I did for my parent, because she's my parent. I did tell my sister that she needed to kick in and call every day (something she does most of the time anyway), but she was in charge of keeping mom's spirit's high. It never occurred to me that anyone needed to thank me. Sharp contrast to my reality, I suppose.

After guests were gone and dishes put away, the Mr. reflected on this THANK you crisis and came to the conclusion that we just need to start planning an award ceremony every three months. A big dress up ordeal seems fitting. We all get together and give one award the THX-MIL, with a general wording saying "this is for all you do for us, thank you."

Monday, July 11, 2011

Grass is not greener

I had my first panel done today for allergies. I was going to have them skip the seasonal and environmental tests, but they did my trouble foods along with the full panel. I suspected I was allergic to olive trees, as walking near one will send me into a sneezing fit, and my MIL's nouveau faux tuscan retirement villa is filled with these trees. One hoped that I was allergic to the MIL, but it appears that they neither test for family or work, both of which can make my skin itch.

On trees, I am as fit as a monkey could be, with the caveat that neither olive or mesquite are in my jungle. I had fat reactions to both. Molds, dust mites, and weeds were flaming negatives, with the exception of two weeds I've never seen. The kicker was grass, and all of it seems to light my skin on fire.

I go back next week for food tests. They did indulge a few superstitions: soy, beef, pork, peanuts (only a recent fear), and milk. Milk and dairy are big ones for me to avoid with terrible sadness. There is too much good stuff out there even if the thought of drinking a full glass of milk makes me want to vomit. The good news is that my peanut crusted Kobe beef burger with soy sauce soaked bacon is okay to eat (not that one should eat that, but one could is all I'm saying). The milkshake is off limits alsost as much as enjoying that meal on the lawn in springtime. I thought I was allergic to meat and milk, but milk is the only real allergy.

I will need to forgo inspection of hypothetical greener grass. Maybe I'll sneeze less mentally in the meantime by adapting that sentiment to the thought that the waves are always breaking at any beach but this one.

Friday, July 8, 2011

Waiting Room

I am getting my allergies tested. It's long overdue. I am almost certain that I will be allergic to things that give me rashes like soy and certain meats. I just want science to prove this to me.

One artifact of these few years of struggle to build a family is going to doctors. OB/Gyn, Dermatologist, and RE have been in regular rotation with visits averaging in the more than once a month over three years time. And, I've developed a huge problem with the waiting room (<-- link to favorite fugazi song).

Along with the usual children and pregnant people, I have a very old and yet new gripe...the waiting.

My allergist lady was running about 45 minutes behind during my initial appointment. And since my RE and dermatologist are both prompt offices, I'd forgotten how low my tolerance is for freaking waiting for a freaking doctor. I get that their time is valuable, but I make money by working. That working is based on time I work, and me sitting waiting for someone costs ME money when you think of it this way.

I remember that my first miscarriage OB/Gyn was a doctor in demand. She always ran between 30-40 minutes behind. I'd book as early in the day as I could, knowing that it was slammed and sort of accepted that wait. No more. If your office is running behind once, I give you a pass. If I show up for a follow up appointment, wait for an hour in your lobby, I'm pretty much done with you and your practice. That said, I can't fire this particular doctor until my tests are completed. Double boogers.

Notes to Doctors:
1. If you are more than 30 minutes behind in your appointments, instruct your staff to call all remaining appointments to arrive at least 20 minutes later. While your lobby is the epitome of greige hotness with all the People magazines one can absorb, I'm pretty sure that most everyone can find something else they'd rather do.
2. Get wifi for your patients. I know, distractions and cranky people yelling that the interweb is down, but seriously, your patients probably have jobs with laptops. You can get a few bonus points in when people can respond to work matters.

I'll also note that at the moment I don't have a primary care physician. I know. Can you believe that? Part of the reason is that my old OB/Gyn (see waiting note above) was also my PCP. After three miscarriages and two methotrexate shots in my ass, I wasn't going back there again. Plus, she was so busy that when I did need an emergency visit, for a UTI or say strep throat, it would be a minimum of 3 to 4 days to book an emergency appointment. Why bother?

This is leading up to the referral I got from Dr. C to see an endocrinologist for weight issues. She said, GO NOW. I called, we played phone tag, I booked the earliest appointment they had. Say hello to September 2nd, my pretties. By then, I expect to be in full swing with injections and whatnot, so seeing a weight loss expert in two months seems awesome indeed. And, if my current exercise & eating hold, I will be down at least 15-20 lbs. by that date, which will disqualify me from her expert fatty help.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

What Matters

The Mr. returned from a week long trip on the heels of our flaming week of rottenness. I had to deliver the "normal" news over the phone, during work. And with the 3 hour time difference, it's been hard for us to catch up emotionally. I spent almost all of last Sunday floating in a sea of tears. And, without him around, it was a very lonely week.

I booked us a room in SF for the weekend. Knowing that we weren't going to get a mini-vacation out of this loss, but wanting to reconnect and spend time together. We ate, drank, and talked, with all three of those things in great abundance.

He met with the therapist Saturday and things went well. She knows our story and is part of our practice. He said it was one of the best things he's done so far, to just talk to someone else about us and our situation. Turns our both of our biggest fears are how bad this will be for our long term relationship health. He doesn't want to lose me anymore than I want to lose him after all. And that is a good place to be right now. None of this other stuff matters if we are wrecked as a result.

On the not so good side, I started to bleed again yesterday. It looks a lot like the iodine-y stuff they use during the procedure (I do remember what this is, but don't feel like googling it from work at the moment), so yet another phone call to the doctor is in order. If this is my actual period returning, then things might be looking up. Let's just hope that's what's in order here.

I've not been feeling much like writing. There's been a lot on my mind, but the words aren't there to describe it. Unfortunately, there are still more questions than answers. But, having the Mr. home, by my side, working through it together, matters more than anything else.