Inexplicable Anger

Really, I'm not a very angry person...I've always had other pursuits. However, nothing makes me more angry than those stick figure family stickers. I cannot explain it.

I will be driving along, listenin' to my jams, all happy-go-lucky, and then I spot them.

I begin to feel it.  The kind of wrath that makes me understand why it's one of the 7 deadly sins.

My blood boils.  My face reddens.  I have to fight the urge to not flip the person driving the vehicle off all because of stickers. This started before I knew I was infertile, so I can't blame infertility for this...it's totally unjustifiable.

Nobody cares how many children you have, what gender they are, what their hobbies are, and God forbid their names...

It's like you are a mobile advertisement for pedophiles and child-nappers...just sayin'...

The only other thing in my life that makes me this angry is Canada.  Also, inexplicable.  It's like an innate rage.  It is completely unjustified (well, ok, the Opening Ceremonies where they had a beat poet kind of begins to justify it, but other than that I have no justification).  And no, I don't hate Canadians, the country's simple existence just makes me angry...I guess I have issues.

I wish I could be angrier at things that would...I don't know...make a little sense...be channeled into something that could make a difference...But no...

I get asked if I'm angry at women that get pregnant, especially when they aren't necessarily pillars of the community.  "Doesn't it make you angry when crack-whores get pregnant?".  Not particularly...It has no effect on me what-so-ever.  There is no limit on the number of people who can get pregnant in a given month so it's not like I'm competing with anyone but my own broken damn parts.

If I've learned anything, it's that life is messy, complicated, twisted, unfair, but if you fight for it...it's wonderful, too.  Today for instance.  It was 70 degrees, my husband was working in the back-yard, I was plotting out the grocery list and my sweet, golden retriever, Emma Grace, was swimming in our pool, and romping around loving every minute of our attention.  If this is the only family I ever know as a 30-something adult, it's pretty pleasant.  It's not my ideal, it's not perfect, but it's wonderful.  My heart swells when I think of our little family, that may or may not ever grow.

Peace, Love, & Forgiving Canada for Existing,
MK

TMI

So....

Sorry for the lack of updating in March...but I was too attached to heating pads it seemed to type much...and when I wasn't, I wasn't sitting down.

So apparently March Endometriosis Awareness Month was my body's chance to show how aware it really wanted me to be.  For the first time in my life I got to experience that 2 week cycle thing, ok it was actually 17 days, but still....I've heard ladies complain, but I normally live in 31-45 day land give or take another month...and this was friggin' nut-so.  I flat-out find it unpatriotic and unacceptable. AND it would be one thing if it was just "Oh, hello and goodbye" in 2 days of Hellful vengeance like it normally is, but this is still going.

As of tomorrow, this will have lasted 3x longer than any other period in the history of my life.  Ok so that may only be 6 days...but I feel like I'm bleeding to death.  Which I know, I'm just being a baby and there are people who normally bleed for 5-7 days, and things are fine.  At least by days 4 and 5 I can somewhat tolerate life.  Like it only hurts when I stay still for too long.  So sleeping is barely an option and sitting still feels like I'm being stabbed in the uterus.  And if I hold still long enough I'm pretty sure my uterus is trying to turn inside out and fall out of my body faster than Mrs. Duggar's.  At least that's just what it feels like.  So I just keep moving as much as possible.

Oh, yeah...so the even more funner part (yes, I said more funner) of this story is that all this has happened while on the 2nd week of my active pills of my birth control.  Oh and before you say, "Oh that's just breakthrough"...NO, NO....I know what breakthrough is...this was full-out I'm showing you who's boss sending you to the bathroom, breaking you out in cold sweats, cramping so bad you can't get out of bed and do anything for 2 solid days, making you puke, making the curtains close over you eyes when you try to do stuff so you have to sit down or you will fall down, lose 6 lbs in a day from diarrhea, horribleness.  So, unless that's what breakthrough bleeding is like...

I got to see Dr. Donesky for all this and he said, "Huh? And you waited until after a period to start the birth control pills?"

This is like confusing Einstein on the theory of relativity...I've confused Einstein...

He did say that I have lost my period privileges, so I get to skip all the sugar pills from now until I conceive a child, need a special test, or have a hysterectomy!!! YAY!!!!! But we are just in a holding pattern to see what happens before we do anything more.  My estrogen may be low for whatever reason...so I may need a stronger pill if this doesn't stop, soonerish... 

All I know is I want more estrogen like someone wants more sunburn, so hopefully it will stop.  Short of it is...when your pregnancy is "chemically enhanced"...err..."chemically dependent" rather none of this matters because they'll just give me whatever hormone cocktail I need to fix it.  I just want to not bleed to death in the meantime...[I'm exaggerating.]

Honestly, I don't know how the "normal 5-7 days every 28 days" women live.  I mean all these feminine products are expensive...I can buy the big box and that's like almost a year supply for me typically...I spend more money on ibuprofen and heat patches...this is bloody ridiculous...literally...I seriously buy them so infrequently that I'm still embarrassed when I do have to buy them and usually send BJ to do it...Well, that secret is out...

In other more uplifting news...I saw Dr. Donesky on the same day for other reasons and he told me we were in good shape to collect some eggs in June.  YAY!!!  We got to see a social worker who thinks that we are a good fit to be parents...YAY!!!  I almost lost it when she asked if mental illness runs in our family..."Run? No....it just flaunts itself proudly amongst us!"  Fortunately, I was interrupted before that left my mouth...I'll never make it through an adoption work-up... 

So things are getting semi-serious in the old Roberts' Household of Fertility Doom.  BJ's been sticking to his Vitamin Candy regimen.  I'm not gonna lie...someone gave me their gummie prenatals and they are way more fun...He'll have to send his swimmers to the Fertility Trials soon. YAY!!!  I've lost 20lbs since January...wow...that was another Freudian slip...but last June...I've lost 3.5 inches around my boobs to show for that so far...and like a millimeter or 2 on all the other places...but hey...

It's really bizarre to be excited about possibly having kids again.  Literally last week, I was telling BJ this wasn't going to work and he was pretty miffed at me...as he should have been.  I hear that roller coaster of Joy/Grief/Joy/Grief roaring in the distance.  I don't know how to flatten it.  I know we wouldn't be doing this without more than an outside possibility that it would work.  Dr. Donesky would not string us along, and he has the stats to back himself up.  Well, it's not really going to matter too much for a bit because all of our embryos are going straight to the freezer... so I guess there is less pressure...we're good at making eggs, were good at fertilizing... it's touchy with the blastocysts... and we're taking the implantation out the equation, so at this point, I think it's okay to be a little excited.

Peace, Love, and Hopefully Not Exsanguinating,

MK

March Madness and Such

March is Endometriosis Awareness Month, which is very appropriate since this is the month my ovaries decided to rejoin the crazy parade...I think...

Anyway, since you never ask, and blogs are my opportunity to whine [I just misspelled that as wine...Freudian, I think] I'm gonna.

This stuff hurts.  Endometriosis is a wacky disease.  Just as no 2 people have the same pain tolerance, no 2 people have the same effects.  So while there are 5 stages of adhesions that your surgeon can see, that has no bearing at all on whether or not your periods are painful.  And according to this article earlier stages of endo can do more damage to your egg quality than later stages because the endometrial tissues slow down in growth and quit producing so many toxins.  

Well, that would be me.  And yes, my periods are painful.  Honestly, my life is painful.  Everyday something between my bellybutton and thighs hurts no matter if it's my "lady's days" or not.  That may or may not be due to my bladder thing (interstitial cystitis).  It's not like, "Please shoot me, I'd rather be dead." pain, it's more like "Dammit, I'm gonna punch myself in my own ovary if you don't leave me alone, only I don't think that would help."  In other words, most days it's annoying and bothersome with an intermittent stabbing sensation that lasts a couple of seconds thrown in for, you know, fun and giggles.  I used to think those were "ovulation pains" but since they happen almost everyday, and I don't ovulate worth crap on my own...I think they're just "Hi, it's your left ovary just being an ass today," pain.  Or, it could be my bladder....or uterus...or who even knows! 

You know that feeling right after you've been punched in the gut...it kinda stings and feels all bruisy...well that's where my pelvic innards live...or at least that's the best way I can describe it.  Sometimes it's quieter than others...but unless I'm actively thwarting my cycle with lupron or depo provera, which unfortunately interferes with baby-making, I have some level of annoyance/pain. When/if I actually get my period...then it's just weather the storm, lots of ibuprofen, Thermacare patches, and prayers, cold sweats, insomnia, and remembering to sit down before the curtains close so I don't fall out.  

I try really hard to not let any of this interfere with my life, whether it's my lady's days or just an aggravation of normal dysfunction.  Unfortunately, and I've already had 4 days in 2 months, I have days where it's like I have a migraine in my pelvis.  I'm sure I could get up and move on, but the fetal position with a heating pad and sleeping through it feels so much better.  I've never missed work because of endo outside of the surgery I had, but I've definitely missed my life on my off days.  In my opinion, I think my "grin and bear it" gets worn out and has to refresh itself.  Then I feel all guilty for being lazy and lying around all day.  But oh, that sweet, sweet heating pad and my Egyptian cotton sheets...

Despite all this, I try to be joyful, perky, and not drag people down. Sometimes trying is harder than others, and it's more difficult because nobody can see or really understand your pain to appreciate how hard you work at times to achieve this.

So anyway, I took this opportunity to whine to you, because I wanted to remind you endometriosis is just one of many diseases that doesn't make a person look ill, potentially causes a lot of pain, and worst of all, has no cure.  It's a constant reminder to me to not assume anything about other people, and to be thankful for the ways in which I am healthy.

Peace, Love, and Fight Like a Girl

MK

"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest of souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars." ~Khalil Gilbran

Well, this went downhill quickly...

Ah, life with chronic, annoying pain...how I've missed thee...

Honestly, was not expecting it to hit so fast.  Nor do I miss it.  At least I know I'm not crazy this time, or "just thinking about it too much".  Never-the-less, still quite annoyed.

The insomnia...that's the worst part. My cats don't mind it....

Here is Gaius and I blogging at 2:00 am...

It's not that I can't fall asleep I can... I can't stay asleep because I wake up with a cramp, a twinge, or I move wrong during my sleep. This is also how I know I'm not making it up.  I like to sleep.  I LOVE sleep, in fact. It's one of my favorite hobbies, especially with a pet to cozy up with...but it alludes me.  

I can be distracted from it during the day mostly and activity helps.  Unfortunately, as with most humans, I'm not meant to go 24/7 with no sleep.  And some days...like a couple of days ago, crossing the threshold of moving out of the fetal position from under the heated blanket to the cold and waiting for enough activity to loosen everything up again becomes too high.  So then I take a sick day from my other job as a domestic engineer and Emma and I crash on the couch.  When I'm not dozing off, which is the only time I don't hurt, I feel guilty about not doing anything. It's rather fantabulous like that...

It's nights like these that really make me think I deserve a hysterectomy before I'm 36...Hopefully I've used my organs by then.  In the meantime, hopefully I can get in with my OB/Gyn and have my bladder numbed Friday or Monday. Other than that...it's just keep taking my meds and hope for the best.  I guess I could try Benadryl tomorrow night, but it's a little too late for that at this point...grr...

Womanhood...such a a beautiful, mysterious thing, no?  I mean this is it, right? There has to be a special place in Heaven for ladies with endometriosis...that's all I'm saying...

You think God will forgive me if I sucker punch Eve in the face if I meet her in Heaven?

Peace, Love, and Forgiveness even in the event of premeditation,

Mary Katherine 

Here we go again...I guess...I think...maybe?

You know you might be infertile when:

1. You randomly have 3 different brands of pregnancy tests in your bathroom.
2. 2 different types of ovulation predictor kits
3. Baby aspirin with the little hearts that made you cry to dispose of it 2 years ago because that was "giving up."
4. Bromocriptine...I mean I don't have Parkinson's or a pituitary tumor so this is just wasting away...
5. Every time you bring a pocketbook back into rotation you find a bottle of Menopur/needles/syringes.

This is absolute chaos...maybe I recognize this now?  Although that didn't stop me from peeing on an expired ovulation test...I mean, because what the Hell, right? I have one and I had to pee...so, why not?
...btw...I'm not ovulating....SURPRISE!

Any-some-how...I'm trying to clean out all the old..err...consolidate...at least, consolidate, because really that box of 3 tests can hold 8 comfortably...but not 9...why do pregnancy tests come in threes, anyway?  I mean do people that are fertile, but not really wanting children, do they screw up 3 times in rapid succession?  I'm just curious...It's something I'll never know.  I mean if you need 3 positive pregnancy tests to prove to yourself you have a positive pregnancy test...well, that just seems like double line hoarding.  I mean good for you, but really?  You need 6 lines?

The sad thing is, I needed this stuff.  You don't understand I NEEDED this stuff...because every day was a possibility, and every month was a possible dream come true.  And every "next" month was a slap of devastation because the only double lines I ever saw were the streams of tears down my cheeks.

Yet this is the cycle we are jumping...well...inching towards. The end of peace, the return of fear, anguish and physical pain.

It reminds me a lot of the time I tore my left ACL almost exactly 2 years to the date of tearing my right ACL.  I screamed.  The only time I did more than shriek or groan or just yell, "ouch" when I got hurt. I mean yeah...tearing your ACL stings, but a 16 y/o that just got back into her prime after spending 6 months in rehab and the next 12 catching back up with herself gymnastically, the final 6 progressing again...well that scream was for 24 months down the drain. It was for possibly kissing college gymnastics goodbye, it was for knowing that even though the sprain stings, having holes drilled into your femur and tibia, chips of your patella and tibia removed with the middle 3rd of your patellar tendon, fighting for weeks to simply straighten or flex your knee against fast forming scar tissue...well that sting of the original tear was nothing compared to what was to come.

So the tiny twinges I feel as my zombie ovaries re-awaken from their chemically enhanced hibernation do not really feel good, no, but it's not enough to make me do more than wince, yet...However, I want to have a full-out little girl tantrum in my bedroom floor.  It's so unfair.  So many aspects are unfair.  Endometriosis isn't fair, interstitial cystitis isn't fair, poor egg quality isn't fair, chronic pain in a region of the body you aren't supposed to talk about isn't fair.  But I remind myself...

"Guess what buttercup?  This is your life, and it's more fair than most."  Nothing I have is trying to kill me.  [Remind this to me when I actually start my period again, bc I will not believe I ever said that.] In fact my immune system is trying it's damnedest not let things get worse.  We'll just forget about the infertility thing for a second, but my endo, adhesion-wise, could be much worse.  I could have no possibility at all of ever carrying a pregnancy.

The most terrifying thing is not getting burned, but walking back into the fire, again, after you have been burned.  Only this time, it's not up to how diligently I work on my rehabilitation.  It's not up to how compliant I am with my meds. It's not up to how hard I pray and beg for a certain outcome.  It's just taking a shot at something my husband and I have dreamed of, prayed for, and tried...God knows we've tried.

Peace, Love, and Buttercups,
MK

Something New Is Born

Well, at face value, this seems like another empty promise to an infertile.  And to some, it's one of the many reasons we recoil from churches that celebrate life, births, and throw every family-friendly pot-luck event in your face week after week.

I, on the other hand, don't see things quite so literally.  (I'm an Episcopalian after all.)  I've been pained, agonized, broken, yet I'm not who I was in 2010.  I'm the something new.

It takes a while...and I don't think you can rush the process, you simply have to go through it.  I'm happier because I've accepted childlessness as my default.  It's not necessarily what I want, but tough cookies.  I didn't want all those sweaters my grandmother knitted for me, either.  And guess what?  I wore them to school, anyway!

There comes a point in which you just have to accept the way things are.  Much like a victim of a crime cannot depend on the sentence of their perpetrator for their own healing, I cannot depend on having a child to make me better, happier, or content.

This is not to say I'm not unencumbered with moments of grief here or there, but they are simply moments that I accept and don't try to fight off.  I just know that all-in-all, I can exist happily with or without a child.  This person is someone I thought I was incapable of being in 2010.

Patience, while still not one of my finer, purer qualities, in other aspects of my life, I have embraced in this matter.  I may be the oldest mother in my future child's kindergarten class, or I may never be a mother at all.  Either way, I'll find a way to be happy, to enjoy life, and to continue to accept the blessings (especially, kittens, golden doodles, and/or margaritas) thrown my way.

Peace, Love and Acceptance,

Mary Katherine

Hello 2014

So, um...yeah...  My life this year thus far...

NCLEX - Pass
Employed - check
Out of Classroom Orientation - check
Getting BJ on Vitamins - check
Picking out an egg donor - see above...

I really don't know how people pick out the genetic mother of their children...it shouldn't be allowed.  I just want to channel No Doubt's song "Don't Speak", or invoke Miranda Rights on all potential egg donors.  I mean c'mon...if you're going to want me to pay you a donation fee upwards of 3K and some ask for a lot more, would you not think that reading over your profile before posting it might be a good idea?

For example, here is an anonymous quote from a donor under 'Message to Recipients':

"To appreciate what life can provide them, and to be really patient and lovely with each other with was gonna be next, love, respect and patience is basic in a family."

After reading this I went to the bathroom and smiled to make sure I wasn't having a stroke or aneurysm...I wasn't.  

I can't even...

Just no...

I mean a typo, whatever, but this is just one of many that sound like they could care more about Jimmy Choo than actually donating.

Just tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies...that's all I ask. Pretend you like to read things other than the Twilight series. Pretend you like to watch movies other than the Twilight movies...pretend. Pretend Justin Beiber getting arrested is not the worst thing that has happened in the history of forever...Have the sense to think, 'Oh, some crotchety, old 30-something might want to know I have some depth.'

Alas...this has been much harder than we ever imagined and I am pretty discouraged. Usually that means something good is about to come around the corner so I'll just have a margarita and wait for it...

Peace, Love, and With Salt, Please,

Mary Katherine