Women, you are amazing. You encourage me, put up with my whining, and wipe my tears. The comments you left me on my last post (or the emails) lifted my spirits greatly. I'm not sure what dark pit of utter despair I would reside in without your constant, loving presence in my life.
My funk turned shortly after I wrote my last post. First because it helped me tremendously to write about it. Second, because your amazing comments made me feel much better. Third, because I tried to eat my lunch and had to stop partway and put it away. I thought I might hurl. IF has given me such drawn-out, from here-to-forever time periods in hell, that it's kind of surprising to snap back from a downward spiral (an intense one at that) in such a short time.
I am cautious in interpreting it, but in all honesty, I have been feeling reliably nauseous and queasy everyday since Friday. I doubt myself and keep wondering if I'm making it up. I know that my brain could create this: I've seen a few patients with conversion disorder and I know that symptoms can be experienced as real even though they are not organic (although one would need a sort of blindness of their internal/emotional world to have that, and this doesn't fit me very well). I am feeling encouraged by these symptoms, reassured even, but I won't know for sure until I know.
While I don't want to make too much out of it, it seems that my nausea/queasiness has helped me let hope back into my heart. It really has, and I think that's ok. Preventing hope is not going to make the blow any softer if it didn't work. But for the days until then, allowing hope will make me feel lighter.
On the subject of POAS, here's where I stand, respectfully acknowledging that mine isn't the best approach, just the one that feels most comfortable to me. I know that I could have started testing last Friday, but I was afraid of getting an equivocal answer. It felt easier for me to wait than to get a maybe yes/maybe no. Last time, we tested on beta day. Our reasoning was that we didn't want to first hear the news from the nurse. Positive or negative, I was pretty sure I would be loosing my shit either way, so why torture myself by adding the need to remain socially appropriate on the phone.
So for those who've asked, yes, I will start to pee on things this week. Given the logic above, it would be Friday morning, beta day, but there is a small hitch to that. I have to be at work that morning for a family therapy session, and it's already been rescheduled once because of my absence. If I test on Friday morning and it's no go, then I might be wallowing. So testing has been moved to Thursday, either am or pm. Please register your vote in the comment section for your preferred time.
Showing posts with label 2ww agony. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2ww agony. Show all posts
Monday, July 2, 2012
Friday, June 29, 2012
not feeling it
Labels:
2ww agony,
DE IVF#2
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comments
Ugh. Yesterday, I experienced the steep downhill of the IF rollercoaster.
One more time, with feeling.
I am comparing what my current experience is to how I felt in the last DE cycle. Like I said, I felt an unequivocal bout of nausea at 5dp3dt, and some queasiness on the days after. This time, I have not felt a full fledge bout of nausea and I'm at 6dp5dt. I should say that there are a few moments each day when I'm feeling a slightly queasy (maybe). Like after lunch yesterday, I had about 3 minutes when I felt quite unsettled with the food in my tummy, which isn't typical for me. Still, that's not much to go on, compared to my memory of what it was last year (and yes, I see a problem with comparing a memory of what happened 1 year ago and what is happening right now - memory is not that accurate).
I came home last night and felt like this cycle was a bust. I got myself convinced of that and felt very crappy.
So, I did what usually helps, if only a little: I went out for a walk.
On my walk, I ran into this woman I know. I wasn't wearing my glasses and had I been, I would have run the other way. She is fundamentally a good and kind person, but there are layers and layers of stuff on top of that. And she is also a very, VERY successful clinical psychologist, with a beautiful house and 2 beautiful kids. Cue the upward social comparrissons and the feelings of sheer inadequacy that come along with that. She called me out when she saw me, and of course, I kicked into my socially gracious mode and started walking and talking with her. What else was I going to do? Fake a bout of nausea?
Anyway, mid-conversation, when I'm trying to steer that talk to all of her successful endeavours and her beautiful children (and get the spotlight off of me), she cuts in and asks where we are at in our family building.
Fuck.
Who the hell asks that.
And then she felt that the question might not have been appropriate so she starts damage control and I just mutter that there have been challenges, already saying more than I ever intended to this person with whom I am not close. She chimes in that it was a challenge to conceive her second one. I didn't know what to say to that and I certainly wasn't going to take that as an invitation to talk.
Thus, the downward spiral I was already on got a whole lot steeper after I came back home. This was one time when going for a walk didn't help at all, and in fact made things worse. There are so many ways in which I am disappointed with my life. All the hope and promise I've been feeling in the last weeks was sucked away in a cerebral stormcloud of 'where did I go wrong', 'when is it going to be our turn', 'how could I end up so far from where I wanted', and 'where is it that i even want to go at this point?' There was intense sobbing that went along with that, and lots of staring into a bleak future.
It's interesting how going into this cycle, I was really working the mindset of this being just the first try of many, and really preparing to be back in DC later in the summer for a FET. Despair management, I suppose. But of course, once that blastocyst is in, one starts seeing things much differently. You want it to LIVE, damn it. You want it to be your child, at long last. Seriously women, I will be crushed if this try doesn't work. There is really no way around it. I was a fool to think that there was. Perhaps that's just what I needed to tell myself to take this big leap of faith once more.
One more time, with feeling.
I am comparing what my current experience is to how I felt in the last DE cycle. Like I said, I felt an unequivocal bout of nausea at 5dp3dt, and some queasiness on the days after. This time, I have not felt a full fledge bout of nausea and I'm at 6dp5dt. I should say that there are a few moments each day when I'm feeling a slightly queasy (maybe). Like after lunch yesterday, I had about 3 minutes when I felt quite unsettled with the food in my tummy, which isn't typical for me. Still, that's not much to go on, compared to my memory of what it was last year (and yes, I see a problem with comparing a memory of what happened 1 year ago and what is happening right now - memory is not that accurate).
I came home last night and felt like this cycle was a bust. I got myself convinced of that and felt very crappy.
So, I did what usually helps, if only a little: I went out for a walk.
On my walk, I ran into this woman I know. I wasn't wearing my glasses and had I been, I would have run the other way. She is fundamentally a good and kind person, but there are layers and layers of stuff on top of that. And she is also a very, VERY successful clinical psychologist, with a beautiful house and 2 beautiful kids. Cue the upward social comparrissons and the feelings of sheer inadequacy that come along with that. She called me out when she saw me, and of course, I kicked into my socially gracious mode and started walking and talking with her. What else was I going to do? Fake a bout of nausea?
Anyway, mid-conversation, when I'm trying to steer that talk to all of her successful endeavours and her beautiful children (and get the spotlight off of me), she cuts in and asks where we are at in our family building.
Fuck.
Who the hell asks that.
And then she felt that the question might not have been appropriate so she starts damage control and I just mutter that there have been challenges, already saying more than I ever intended to this person with whom I am not close. She chimes in that it was a challenge to conceive her second one. I didn't know what to say to that and I certainly wasn't going to take that as an invitation to talk.
Thus, the downward spiral I was already on got a whole lot steeper after I came back home. This was one time when going for a walk didn't help at all, and in fact made things worse. There are so many ways in which I am disappointed with my life. All the hope and promise I've been feeling in the last weeks was sucked away in a cerebral stormcloud of 'where did I go wrong', 'when is it going to be our turn', 'how could I end up so far from where I wanted', and 'where is it that i even want to go at this point?' There was intense sobbing that went along with that, and lots of staring into a bleak future.
It's interesting how going into this cycle, I was really working the mindset of this being just the first try of many, and really preparing to be back in DC later in the summer for a FET. Despair management, I suppose. But of course, once that blastocyst is in, one starts seeing things much differently. You want it to LIVE, damn it. You want it to be your child, at long last. Seriously women, I will be crushed if this try doesn't work. There is really no way around it. I was a fool to think that there was. Perhaps that's just what I needed to tell myself to take this big leap of faith once more.
 |
| From Katie Evans |
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
let the waiting begin
Labels:
2ww agony,
symptoms
0
comments
I have made it back home, and you will be able to tell since once again, I will be wordy. You can't grow up French and not be wordy. Think of Proust and his 2-page sentences. You'd think that 3 degrees at English-language universities would have whipped it out of me. No. Pour mes lectrices françaises, je ne faisais qu'expliquer que je suis finalement de retour à la maison et que je n'avais même pas besoin de le déclarer puisque de constater que je suis redevenue volubile serait assez pour s'en rendre compte (mon iphone me l'empechais lorsque je voyageais). J'ai également fait référence à Proust parce que j'suis snob.
The train rides were epic. We particularly liked the DC to Pittsburgh train going through the Appalachians. Except the part where I had to do my PIO shot while the train was moving. But I managed to do it in a train change room. I've never seen a change room on a train before, but certainly was glad to find it there on this particular train. The bathrooms are visibly germy, and I was loathe to stab myself in the ass amidst such an ensemble of microscopic friends.
It hit me this morning that I will drive myself crazy for the next 2 weeks. Scanning for symptoms and trying to determine what they mean is what I'll be doing, under the pretense of going to work and you know, working. There is nothing I can really do about it. I decided to take CGD's words to live by and apply them to my situation: lean into it. Let this be my declaration that I will stop resisting driving myself crazy and will just give into it.
Beta is on July 6.
Monday morning upon waking up in Pittsburgh, I felt a bit off. Something was a little weird with my digestion, nothing major. I chalked it up to train fatigue and had breakfast. Moving on. This morning, I was slightly queasy. Not nauseous, but slightly queasy. Oh boy, did my mind chew on that one like a fresh bone.
And I had to throw some math in, of course. Last time embryos entered my uterus (3dt), I felt a strong bout of nausea 5 days later. I wondered to myself whether this time, if I were to be pregnant, I would feel nauseous 3 days after the 5-day transfer. That would be this morning, so no, not nauseous, but slightly queasy.
Do you see how I will be fit to be tied by July 6?
I got word from the clinic today that out of all those embryos, only 1 is good enough to freeze. I was disappointed and pleased at the same time, if that's even possible. I thought there would be more to freeze, given that there were 11 growing. I lowered my expectations when the doctor mentioned that that some were sluggish and they were hoping for 1 or 2 to freeze. I'm glad there is at least 1 to freeze. And because this is shared risk, we can go through this 5 more times if we need to. I'm hoping not though. But I'm not the one who decides.
It was great to read all your comments along the way. I felt like I had a whole big section of the bleachers calling out our name loudly and with pep. Thank you to all of you readers, commenters, cheerleaders and witnesses.
The train rides were epic. We particularly liked the DC to Pittsburgh train going through the Appalachians. Except the part where I had to do my PIO shot while the train was moving. But I managed to do it in a train change room. I've never seen a change room on a train before, but certainly was glad to find it there on this particular train. The bathrooms are visibly germy, and I was loathe to stab myself in the ass amidst such an ensemble of microscopic friends.
It hit me this morning that I will drive myself crazy for the next 2 weeks. Scanning for symptoms and trying to determine what they mean is what I'll be doing, under the pretense of going to work and you know, working. There is nothing I can really do about it. I decided to take CGD's words to live by and apply them to my situation: lean into it. Let this be my declaration that I will stop resisting driving myself crazy and will just give into it.
Beta is on July 6.
Monday morning upon waking up in Pittsburgh, I felt a bit off. Something was a little weird with my digestion, nothing major. I chalked it up to train fatigue and had breakfast. Moving on. This morning, I was slightly queasy. Not nauseous, but slightly queasy. Oh boy, did my mind chew on that one like a fresh bone.
And I had to throw some math in, of course. Last time embryos entered my uterus (3dt), I felt a strong bout of nausea 5 days later. I wondered to myself whether this time, if I were to be pregnant, I would feel nauseous 3 days after the 5-day transfer. That would be this morning, so no, not nauseous, but slightly queasy.
Do you see how I will be fit to be tied by July 6?
I got word from the clinic today that out of all those embryos, only 1 is good enough to freeze. I was disappointed and pleased at the same time, if that's even possible. I thought there would be more to freeze, given that there were 11 growing. I lowered my expectations when the doctor mentioned that that some were sluggish and they were hoping for 1 or 2 to freeze. I'm glad there is at least 1 to freeze. And because this is shared risk, we can go through this 5 more times if we need to. I'm hoping not though. But I'm not the one who decides.
It was great to read all your comments along the way. I felt like I had a whole big section of the bleachers calling out our name loudly and with pep. Thank you to all of you readers, commenters, cheerleaders and witnesses.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
the 2 Week Wilderness
Labels:
2ww agony
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comments
On the Appalachian trail, there is a section in Maine called the 100 mile wilderness. It's the most remote stretch of the trail. Like its nickname suggests, it consists of a section of trail without any access to civilization. I was always looking forward to Maine, when I hiked the AT. Unfortunately, an injury stopped me early in my thru hike. It was one of my life's big disappointments.
What will come at the end of the 2 Week Wilderness? Blissful joy or one of my life's big disappointments? It seems all so black and white at this moment.
Ok, women, is this suppose to feel like anything? I'm not feeling anything yet. Except, maybe a bit grouchy.
I miss my daily workouts. I went for a gentle walk this morning. No sweating. No attendance at the gym. Just a little walk around the neighborhood. I find it very tough not to go to the gym. It's my surefire way to cope with stress. It works 98.97 times out of 100.
I wish I knew what was going on in there. It is very hard not to know, not to feel like it's one way or another. What to think? My rational mind is trying SO BLOODY HARD to think its way around this question. What a waste. I should be reading articles. But I'm still completely distracted and now I'm also grouchy.
Maybe the grouchiness is a good sign. When Sattva was pregnant with Anne, she thought she was depressed for the first 10 weeks or so. She felt awful about life and her career prospects and everything. She tells this very funny story of telling her husband that she must be depressed. Maybe her eggs give off the grouchy, depressed kind of hcg.
I'm back at work, chickadees. My heart's not in it this week. I've just mostly been writing reports and feeling behind the 8-ball because I missed most of last week and I'm not going to be there most of next week. I am not letting myself stay until my usual 7pm, but instead coming home early to work on my, ahum, defense (or blogging).
I received the feedback from the external examiner for my dissertation. It was a pretty good report, as as externals' reports go I hear. Only very minor "fine tuning" changes are what she suggested. She used words like "excellent" and "may well lead to publication in a scientific journal". I can't believe how much relief I derived from her evaluation. I had obviously been catastrophizing catastrophically.
A little update on Mr. A. Sadly, he is still ill. His parents came over to take him to his chest x-ray on Monday and then decided to take him to their house. So he packed up Chicken and her scratching post, and off they went. The chest x-ray was inconclusive for pneumonia, but his white blood cell count was very high. He is taking the week off and resting some more, much to his dismay. Mr A is a keep busy kinda of a guy, and sitting around doing nothing is pretty much agony in a jar.
Thinking of you, women. I'm loving the good news lately. It's helping me keep positive.
What will come at the end of the 2 Week Wilderness? Blissful joy or one of my life's big disappointments? It seems all so black and white at this moment.
Ok, women, is this suppose to feel like anything? I'm not feeling anything yet. Except, maybe a bit grouchy.
I miss my daily workouts. I went for a gentle walk this morning. No sweating. No attendance at the gym. Just a little walk around the neighborhood. I find it very tough not to go to the gym. It's my surefire way to cope with stress. It works 98.97 times out of 100.
I wish I knew what was going on in there. It is very hard not to know, not to feel like it's one way or another. What to think? My rational mind is trying SO BLOODY HARD to think its way around this question. What a waste. I should be reading articles. But I'm still completely distracted and now I'm also grouchy.
Maybe the grouchiness is a good sign. When Sattva was pregnant with Anne, she thought she was depressed for the first 10 weeks or so. She felt awful about life and her career prospects and everything. She tells this very funny story of telling her husband that she must be depressed. Maybe her eggs give off the grouchy, depressed kind of hcg.
I'm back at work, chickadees. My heart's not in it this week. I've just mostly been writing reports and feeling behind the 8-ball because I missed most of last week and I'm not going to be there most of next week. I am not letting myself stay until my usual 7pm, but instead coming home early to work on my, ahum, defense (or blogging).
I received the feedback from the external examiner for my dissertation. It was a pretty good report, as as externals' reports go I hear. Only very minor "fine tuning" changes are what she suggested. She used words like "excellent" and "may well lead to publication in a scientific journal". I can't believe how much relief I derived from her evaluation. I had obviously been catastrophizing catastrophically.
A little update on Mr. A. Sadly, he is still ill. His parents came over to take him to his chest x-ray on Monday and then decided to take him to their house. So he packed up Chicken and her scratching post, and off they went. The chest x-ray was inconclusive for pneumonia, but his white blood cell count was very high. He is taking the week off and resting some more, much to his dismay. Mr A is a keep busy kinda of a guy, and sitting around doing nothing is pretty much agony in a jar.
Thinking of you, women. I'm loving the good news lately. It's helping me keep positive.
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