Thursday, November 1, 2007

Wrung out

This nine months thing is kicking my butt. I am wiped out, wrung out, and sad through and through. Lori the Wise said in her comment on my last post that 3 months intervals in that first year felt to her almost like the trimesters, and I think she is right. When you've been carrying something for that long you expect to birth it at some point, traditionally right around that nine months mark. You expect relief, even if you don't know that you expect it. And for me, it hasn't come. Not yet.

Honestly, I don't know whether this is grief or infertility. Both are unpredictable and exhausting at this point. And they seem to be compounding each other. Contemplating getting to our one year anniversary not just not pregnant, but having not started treatments takes my breath away, makes me feel like the world-class looser, like there is absolutely nothing in life I can actually plan on. It's not like I don't know that to be true, I just could do without daily reminders. It is already clear that I will get to ski for most if not all of this season, and that thought makes me want to cry, to bawl my eyes out, to howl at the moon. I love my skis, high-performance women all-terrain racers that they are, and I love my boots more, the first ones I ever had that are actually comfortable on my short wide feet, the ones that allowed me to tackle much more difficult slopes with confidence. But thinking of putting them on and going out on the mountain? Instead of sucking on lemons to keep that nausea at bay? Profoundly sad.

We went trick or treating last night to the same neighborhood we went last year-- Monkey's best boy friend's house and thereabouts. I was afraid the ghosts of last year when I was waddling around there visibly pregnant would be hard on me, but it was ok. I only saw one dressed up baby, and I flinched, but other than that it was fine. After the kids finished collecting their loot, they played in the basement, and we talked with the parents who are our very close friends. Some wine was imbued, which certainly made things easier. Today five friends who work close by came to my house for lunch. We talked and laughed so much that it hurt. Afterwards, as I was driving to get Monkey from school, I realized that while it was very good to see them and to talk like that, bantering and laughing, with just the right amount of dead-pan and needling, it did exhaust me. Again. What the hell?

Dr.YoungGun called this morning. Apparently the nurse was very upset after talking to me and thought I was rude. Well, shit. I did tell her, made sure to tell her, that I was very upset, but at the situation, not at her. I guess she took it more personally. Fine, whatever. I wonder whether the RE would've called if she wasn't upset. Or maybe he was supposed to have been the one calling me with the ultrasound results in the first place, seeing as he said that he was away at a conference and couldn't call me himself then, and she didn't know exactly how to read the report. Anyway, the radiologist thinks that Immanuel is a hemorrhagic cyst, meaning some blood has leaked into it from a ruptured vessel. Dr.YoungGun gives it a 50-50 chance to resolve itself, and wants to do that repeat ultrasound in close to the six weeks the radiologist recommended. I am far less optimistic, but I agreed to wait out the almost six weeks because he agreed to schedule JD to see the urologist now for after the repeat test, as opposed to waiting for the results of that test to schedule the appointment. Of course tired and sad and unprepared as I was for his phone call, I forgot to ask whether they saw a corpus luteum on that ultrasound, since at CD32 today and with almost no symptoms until now, I suspect it's not there. I could be wrong-- I had some transient pre-ovulation like symptoms about a week ago, but they were more like the ones this past summer that turned out to not have been actual ovulation symptoms. I guess I will know in another week. I also forgot to mention to him that since after I talked to the nurse and told her that Immanuel wasn't causing me much pain, just some discomfort, the pain actually increased. It's still not terrible, and very manageable, and certainly not at the level that the internets describe these suckers causing if they burst, so oh well.

He is also sending us to see genetics counselors because he looked up JD's genetic tests from when I was pregnant with Monkey and realized that the mutation he is a carrier for has been associated with some likelihood of having congenital lack of vas deferens. This is not for JD, obviously, as he doesn't have that problem, but for any boy we might have. I spent some time on PubMed and decided not to worry about it for now. If I tell you why, most people's eyes are likely to glaze over, so I won't for now, but if you want to know, ask, and I will type that part up too.

So all of this is my long way of saying I am wiped out, wrung out, and sad through and through. And I start a new job in about ten days.

12 comments:

niobe said...

Of course, you know that I'd be interested in the mutation thing and why you're not worried about it, but don't bother typing it up if it'll just wring you out more.

I'm sorry that everything is still up in the air and uncertain. Would they speed up the surgery if they knew you were in increasing amounts of pain? Not that I'm suggesting that you, uh, exaggerate your symptoms or anything like that. Not at all. Not even a little bit. It's just idle curiosity on my part.

My Reality said...

Sudden, sharp, constant pain can be a sign of a cyst causing ovarian torsion and usually means really quick surgery to save the ovary. I am only saying this because my second ovarian cyst surgery happened after sudden, sharp, constant pain after suspection there may have been some torsion involved. There wasn't, but it wasn't worth the risk. I only wrote this to satisfy Niobe's curiousity. . .

As for feeling wrung out, I couldn't imagine dealing with grief and infertility at the same time. No wonder you feel wrung out. I think a spa weekend should be in order. Or at least a spa afternoon.

Magpie said...

Of course you're wrung out. And to be starting a new job? Oof. Big hot bath, cup of tea, spa weekend? Something like that should be on your dance card.

Aurelia said...

I'm dittoing Reality here, but I'll be more overt than Niobe.

Fake, lie, cheat, steal, or kill, just get what you want!!!!

Don't risk this problem getting worse. Call your favourite OB. Now.

You don't need this stress. And yes, grief gets worse over holidays and anniversaries. So Thanksgiving, Christmas, and every other event until after your first year after A's death will be hard.

I'm so so sorry honey. I think if you push this a little bit more, it will help you feel a little less helpless and sad.

Lori said...

It IS exhausting, this business of grieving and infertility all at once. I think the only advantage I had was that we had been down the infertility road so many times before, that we pretty much knew what we were in for and how to tackle it (of course, there are always unknowns though...) I hate that you are still in so much limbo, and have so much uncertainty about where to go from here. I just hate it.

And can I say that I am annoyed that the nurse thought you were rude?!? I mean, come on. She knows what you have been through and what you are still going through. Suck it up, lady.

Oh, and I like "Lori the Wise." I am thinking of getting some letterhead with that at the top.

Julia said...

Thanks, guys.

Niobe, I'll type it out. I am trying to do the NaBloPoMo thing, so it will make as good a fodder as anything else, I suppose.

Thanks, Reality and Aurelia. There doesn't seem to be a point to trying to run in traffic just now-- my RE is on IVF duty next week, so he wouldn't do it then anyway. And I start the job the next week. I will, however, definitely call if the pain gets worse. Now that I understand more than my discomfort may be on the line.

And oh, R and Magpie, does that spa thing sound enticing. I just missed the spa week here though-- you know the time when really expensive things like an hour-long facial go for $50. And now I feel stingy to pay full price. Yeah, smart, I know.

Lori, definitely get the letterhead. It will be awesome!

Beruriah said...

This just sucks.

Lori's timeline makes sense. I had a hell of a time at 3,6,9. I wish we could make this go faster.

Maybe you need a name for Dr. YoungGun's nurse? Nurse WhineyHead or something? I only come up with childish names so someone else could do better.

kate said...

Yeah, 9 months was a bitch too. I remember. Thinking of you...

Amelie said...

I'm sorry everything is taking so long, when you're exhausted from grief already. A spa day sounds like a great idea. And making sure that there is no risk in having you wait for that Immanuel surgery. Oh and that nurse.. no really, she should have a bit more understanding for you.

The Oneliner (Christina) said...

i can't imagine that it wouldn't take at least this long or that you wouldn't be wrung out. poor thing. i can't imgagine hopw awful this must be, b/c infertility is awful enough.


i wish you a growing sense of peace.

i hope that the job will allow an escape, if only for moments at a time.

Betty M said...

My little boy has CBAVD - discovered when he had a hernia operation at 12 weeks. The mutation comes via his dad - we had no idea. It so pains me that inevitably he will have to go through IVF like we did but with additional bells and whistles. I comfort myself that in 20 -30 years time things will have moved way on. Anyway long winded way of saying I would be interetsted too.

Sorry you are wrung out - it just doesnt help when silly hospital systems get in the way of getting stuff done.

wannabe mom said...

i hear ya on the wrung out. thinking of you, and i hope that things get straightened out so you can feel like you're on a path to something solid.