Wednesday, November 24, 2010

A bunch of little things

The biopsy was "normal" whatever that means. Nothing glaring to explain why I just won't stop bleeding so the next step is to try Lupron, provided my insurance can be convinced that it is necessary. If all else fails I will donate blood and then get a blood panel done - being severely anemic should get them to do something.

I find myself feeling horribly guilty for reporting the guy at work. I feel guilty that I never confronted him myself and guilty for stirring up trouble. Even though I know I HAD to do this, even though he has gotten away with his behavior for far too long, I still feel like I did something wrong. I hate that about myself. I'm so much the people pleaser that everything is always my fault. I wish I could change that about myself but at least this time I was able to ignore that little voice long enough to protect myself. Now if I could just be brave enough to not hide in my office.

I keep hurting myself. First my back and now my knee. I think I may have torn the meniscus. It was hurting constantly but not intensely for the last two months. I finally went back to the doctor and started physical therapy and now it hurts much worse, but not as often. If I keep this up I'm going to have 3 different surgeries to choose from next year, and no sick leave at work.

Speaking of sick leave. I have decided (for now) to apply for a job in my agency that will be a significant raise and full state benefits. It's a job I am pretty sure I won't enjoy but I'm thinking in the long run I will be happier. More money is the only possible way of growing our family and that is what I want most of all. I think I can take a job that I don't love for a couple of years for that. I hope I can, anyway. I'm really putting the cart before the horse worrying about this because the competition will be fierce, but I can't help it. I'm good at worrying.

So - all this and we're coming up to the one year anniversary of the worst month of my entire life. I'm finding it hard to think happy thoughts right now. I think I need to go back to counseling, at least until after the New Year. Yea. More appointments. Super.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

A little wine and a little whine

I had a shitty day. Feeling a little better now, buzzed on wine.

My 62 year old co-worker, who is a dirty old man, finally pushed me too far today. I went to our supervisor and complained about his harassment. My supervisor (who is also male) asked if I wanted to file a formal sexual harassment complaint and I said no. I told him I would if this guy continues his behavior after our supervisor speaks to him. I am absolutely furious that I had to deal with this shit today. I shouldn't have to stand up for myself. This man has been working there for 30 years and everyone knows damn good and well how he treats women, especially young women. He should have been fired years ago. What he did today wasn't anything especially bad - it was his typical commenting on my clothes and my body and then touching me (on the shoulder - but still),for some reason today I had just had enough. It helped that several of my other male co-workers witnessed the incident and were appalled that he would behave that way.

I was so angry I was shaking and on the verge of tears. I'm mad at myself that I've never been able to tell him to leave me alone and not touch me, but my past with men has taught me not to fight back. Even today I didn't say anything directly to him; I doubt he even knows I'm mad at him. I'm hoping this doesn't cause huge problems at work. I don't think my job is at risk since I have so many witnesses, but it says a lot about how this country and this field works that the thought has crossed my mind. I should not have to fight to be treated like a human being and not a walking pair of huge tits. I HATE THAT DIRTY OLD MAN!!

I am really too buzzed for coherent typing right now (thank god for spell check) so I will fill everyone in on the fallout as it happens. Also - I should get my biopsy results tomorrow. I REALLY did not need this shit today.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

tiny feet

When I had the 20 week ultrasound with my daughter I was only excited to see the little being I had been feeling for weeks. In the waiting room I joked that she thought my full bladder made a great trampoline. It never once occurred to me that something could be wrong. The worst I was thinking was that she would be stubborn and we wouldn't see the sex. The most magical part of the ultrasound, and the best picture, was when she pressed both tiny feet against my stomach, as if she wanted to show me how perfect and tiny and cute they were. I literally gasped in wonder and cried. I still have that picture and treasure it.

This experience made it especially painful when my second 20 week ultrasound was so drastically and tragically different. By the time I had my follow up scan just prior to the amnio, the baby was partially paralyzed. I remember laughing at the ultrasound tech trying to get a view of his feet. They were not easy to see and he couldn't move them so the tech pushed in with the device and jiggled my stomach hard, trying to knock them into another position. My whole stomach jiggled in a really unattractive way, and even in the midst of the worst thing to ever happen to me, I laughed. I don't know why they needed to see his feet when there was so much else wrong with him. They said they thought he had rocker-bottom feet, which can be another indication of chromosomal damage. It hardly mattered with all his other problems, but I was very disappointed that I couldn't see his feet. I think I was more upset because I was thinking they were deformed and I couldn't have even that little piece of wonder in all the horribleness.

*** Warning - really graphic description of a dead baby - skip this paragraph if you need to ****

When Aiden was born I wanted badly to hold him, but at the same time I was very afraid to see him. I will be forever grateful to the nurse who helped deliver him. As soon as the doctor removed the placenta the nurse told me that I had a beautiful baby. I knew it wasn't true, not in the traditional sense, but it helped that she didn't think he was a monster. When they finally brought him to me I did the same thing I did with my daughter - I immediately undressed him. I couldn't take off his hat because his head was mostly fluid and I was afraid it would just come apart. I remember in my nightmares the way his overly large head flopped on his tiny little neck. For one horrified minute I thought I was going to break his neck. I tried to uncurl his poor little fingers but I couldn't. They were clenched tight to his palms, but they weren't grown into the skin like I had imagined. He had an adorable little pot belly, which I couldn't figure out, because they said he had no stomach. When I made my way down to his feet I just stopped breathing.

There in my palm, like a gift from a God I don't believe in, were two tiny, beautiful, perfectly formed feet. I felt guilty that this made me so happy. Would I have still loved him if he had deformed feet? Silly question, but I still felt like being happy about that made the rest of his body, in it's pitiful brokenness, somehow less. But I've held on to that image of those perfect feet. It's what I see when I think of my son and the only picture I can look at.

All of this was brought back tonight by my stupid idea to read "My sister's keeper" If I had known what a horrible ending that book had, I never would have read it. But the end got me thinking about my Aiden, and how long it's been since I looked at his pictures. I wondered if I could still remember what he looked like. I can, mostly. But still all I really see are his perfect feet.

The thing I can't remember, the thing that hurts right now, is how small those feet were in my hand. I wish I had gotten a picture of his feet resting in my palm. I have prints, but somehow it just isn't the same. Maybe one day I will try to make a cast from the prints I have.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Some things are just not funny

This is a post by Princess Jo that I think everyone should read. This subject is very, very important and I think we should all be aware of how our words can wound. Please stop by and read it.

Ironically, I had an experience with another type of thoughtless joke today - not nearly as bad, but still painful.

I think even without the dead baby hovering just over my heart, today would have been hard. I'd like to say up front that I'm not angry or upset with anyone. Maybe the universe, because I am angry and upset. The guy in this story didn't mean anything; he just thought he was being funny. Unfortunately he picked a very bad joke with exactly the wrong person.

I had to go to an occupational health clinic today to get my knee checked. I twisted it falling into a damn gofer hole out in the field and am now dealing with worker's comp. The doctor was funny and indignant that I hadn't been treated 2 months ago. He kept joking around and was very upbeat. The problem came after he looked at my x-ray. He said I already have arthritis in that knee (at 34 - fantastic), then he said this:

"There are no fractures, but you're pregnant."

For one tenth of a second I had this physical feeling that shot from my chest through my whole body. I think it was an even mix of wild hope and terror. Then before I could say "WHAT!" I realized it was a joke. He took a picture of my damn knee. There was no way he could tell if I was pregnant, which was the point of the joke. It was all I could do not break down right then. He quickly realized he had said something wrong. He stopped smiling and said it was a joke. Then he said "you're not laughing." I only said no and looked away so I wouldn't cry. He kept talking about my knee and I tried to hold it together. A little while later he asked if I was mad at him. I told him no without any other explanation. I thought about telling him why that was such a bad joke but I found I didn't want him to feel like crap for upsetting me. He was a really nice guy that said a really dumb thing. That didn't stop me from calling my mom and sobbing to her on the phone all the way to work.

God. I hate that I can't handle stupid jokes anymore. I hate that the most innocent comment or picture will ruin my whole day. I cannot imagine how my friends that have no living children can make it through even one day. I think I would have dug a deep, deep hole and never come out.

I just hope this shit gets better. I still feel like crying.

Friday, November 12, 2010

No polyps or fibroids

So no reason for the sudden onset of constant bleeding and horrible cramps. Crap.

I don't get the biopsy results until next week but I'm already working on part B of my plan. Since there is nothing obvious to fix I am going to try rebooting. I'm going to ask my doc to do a round of Lupron, which the damn insurance should cover because I have endo, and hope it resets everything. Unfortunately I can't get in to see her until December. Damn holidays!

Enough about my pity party, someone really needs some support -
Please stop by and give my friend B some hugs. She is in a really scary spot right now.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

The deck is not stacked against me . . .

because the universe never gave me any cards to begin with.

I'm sad and angry. I want the whole world to go away today.

My biopsy went better than expected. It hurt a lot, but not nearly as bad as I feared. I wasn't really told anything because my doctor wants to look through the pictures first. The sonographer did say it looked like I had a mildly bicornate uterus. How that was missed during two pregnancies, I'm not sure, but I'll ask about it at my follow up. There's my seventh(?) risk factor for infertility. Yay.

The bad part of the day was the other appointment. I had a really bad night on Tuesday because my sciatic pain flared up on the way home. I could barely hold the gas pedal down and by the time I got home I was in AGONY. I decided to try the neurosurgeon my doctor tried to refer me to after my MRI. I don't want to see him because I don't think it will do any good, but my doctor is not willing to treat my pain. That PISSES ME OFF. It costs twice as much to see a specialist and they are also not willing to treat chronic pain without a shit load of useless tests and procedures. I don't have many options because I cannot handle that level of pain. I don't need pain meds every day, but at least once a week it gets unbearable. So I went to my regular doc in hopes of getting a small pain med prescription before I see the surgeon and to ask him about getting a breast reduction. He immediately said that wouldn't help my lower back (I think that's bullshit, my lower back is connected to my upper back) and definitely didn't give me the impression that he would fight the insurance if I really wanted one. He told me twice that he wouldn't do pain management (I know that, asshole) and ignored my objections about taking muscle relaxers all the time.

I'm tired of hurting. I'm tired of getting the runaround from doctors and being prescribed things I can't afford, and then being treated as a drug seeker when I don't do what they told me because IT WONT HELP AND I CAN'T PAY FOR IT!!!

God - I'm so angry. I hate my body. I just don't want to be in this useless broken shell anymore. I want to play with daughter without having to lie down. I want to come home without a headache, enjoy the two hours I have with my daughter, and be able to stay up long enough to spend some time with my husband. I wish I could find a doctor that would listen to me, and work with me, and not pawn me off on someone else. Or - as long as I'm wishing for the impossible - I wish I had a pool and the ability to get a massage every week and go to yoga classes, since that would probably be much more effective.

Whoever said that money can't buy happiness never had to live with infertility and chronic pain with this country's broken health care system.

Bleh. Today is a good day for wine. Lots and lots of wine. And chocolate.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

It's nice to have a doctor in the house

I called my sister because I've been getting more and more freaked out about this test on Thursday. She is OB but not GYN (weird, right?) so she didn't have a lot of details, but she was able to tell me exactly how much it would hurt and how long. She also reassured me that polyps and fibroids are not as scary as I thought. I think I can handle a D&C and who knows, maybe that will fix things long enough to get pregnant. If nothing else, I'll have lots of information to give the fertility specialist.

So that brings me to my current dilemma: breast reduction or fertility treatment or both? I just can't decide. I would hate to give a baby formula(after my friend's baby died I REALLY don't trust food manufacturers) but many babies do just fine on it and it would be SO NICE to not be in constant pain. Then there is the recovery - does anyone know how painful it is to go from a 34 L to a 34 C? I'm betting very.

If anyone has advice about breast reductions, please chime in. I am very torn.

I'll update on Thursday or whenever I get the biopsy results back.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

very worried

I have my saline ultrasound and endometrial biopsy on Thursday. I am getting really, really worried. There is obviously something very wrong. For the last two months I've been bleeding more often than not, frequently heavily, and accompanied by bad cramps that last several days. Even the progesterone only stopped the bleeding for a few days. After running this morning - which went great, by the way - I started cramping badly again and spotting.

I've never experienced anything like this. I'm hoping it is fibroids but not severe fibroids, so they can be removed and I'll get better. My husband asked me how I would feel if they tell me to get a hysterectomy. How can I answer that? I certainly won't be okay with it. Even if I was prepared to give up on ever having another baby, which I'm not, how can we manage me being out of work that long?

I have this habit of thinking the very worst thing will happen - that attitude of expecting the worst and hoping for the best, without the hoping part. I'd like to say I'm just a worrier but life has proved to me that expecting the worst is often the best way to go. Then I'm not so surprised when things go badly.

Damn, I am tired of having something to worry about. I'm tired of this stupid body not working. I'm so, so sick of being in pain every day and sick of complaining about it. Please universe - just give me this. Don't take my uterus too.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Wish me luck

The March of Dimes 5K is tomorrow and I am in awe of how much my family and friends donated. I really wasn't expecting much, everyone is having such a hard time right now. I was really, really touched that so many people contributed.

Hopefully I will do everyone proud and survive the race. I won't be running most of it. My brilliant self decided to make Kira laugh by standing on my head, and oh good god my neck hurts! Idiot! A three mile walk/run sounds like the perfect thing for a stupidity induced migraine. I think it will be well worth it though. I'll post a summary some time this weekend.

In other news - have you seen what Jenni is doing? It is such a wonderful idea and the perfect balm for what I'm sure will be the worst holiday season ever. Check out the link on my sidebar and participate if you can.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

A thank you and some really cute pictures

I can't express how touched I am that people I have never met in person have sponsored my walk for Aiden this Saturday. I wish I had something eloquent to say so that you know what it means to me. I know your donation will save someone's baby, and that you did that with my baby in mind gives his life some meaning. As a mother with not much to hold onto of her son, that is a great gift.

With that - here is the cutest baby jaguar ever -

In the first one we told her to smile. In the second one she wanted a picture of her curled up to "sleep". She loved the tail and was so excited, jumping around and growling at everyone. It was so freaking cute.