On her ovaries. At least, that's what the sonogram picture looked like. Sparkly and round shiny cysts. That'll bring anyone down from a high. I thought that maybe I had ovulated or would ovulate or was maybe in the same neighborhood of ovulation. No, not even close. The sonogram yesterday was a heartbreaker, and yet, it may have provided some hope. A baseline has been established where there previously was none. I go back next week for a cycle day 20 sonogram. Gotta see how the follicles are moving along, if at all. They want to start me on Clomid. I was warned that most girls with PCOS do not respond to 50mg of Clomid at all. Then they up the dose to 100mg, then 150mg. After that I don't know what they do. I may turn into Attila the Hun, according to a friend of mine. Who knows. We'll see. I've a feeling I'm in for a lot of heartache before the final payoff gets here. I'm bracing for it as best I can while trying to remain optimistic about the whole ordeal. Tim and I are starting out on a very long and arduous, not to mention expensive, journey. Thoughts and prayers from anyone reading this will be appreciated more than you will ever know.
The HSG dye test is a must for me because of some idiotic malpractice of a surgeon years ago. There is scarring, and I have no idea if it's inside the tube or not. I'm praying it isn't. I can't run the risk of an ectopic pregnancy, nor does my doctor want to run that risk either. It's a very sticky and precarious situation I'm in, and one that sometimes fills me with despair. I am struggling to bring myself out of that pit and have faith and courage through all of this.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
Asphyxiation
Today has been rough. Today has been an emotional roller-coaster. I want babies. I called to pre-register for my dye x-ray on Monday, only to be told that I would have to have a bare minimum of $675 before they would do the test. I have no insurance, my husband is on disability, and my only source of income right now is whatever happens to be left over from my financial aid for school. I was told that we make too much money for financial assistance. Too much money at $700/month from disability. Now, I knew this wouldn't be an easy journey. I know I only have a short amount of time in which to bear children. I had hoped that we would have more income to pay for the tests and medicines and whatnot. I know that should I have a child we need more income. I KNOW all of this. Maybe I was holding out hope and faith that something would happen. Some miracle would take place. I'm in limbo right now. I feel as if my babies are being taken from me before I even have a chance to conceive them. I'm being robbed. Tomorrow when the nurse calls back to talk to me about sonograms and everything, I'm going to just have to tell her to call it off. To wait and see what's going on. I'm due for my annual exam next month. Can we just let it rest until then? Can we wait and see if the new year brings more hope and fortitude? I'm floundering around in an abyss of emotions. Hurt. Anxiety. Fear. Depression. Sadness. Anger. These are all rife within me, yet I still feel the need to fight, though I am unsure how.
Affording the sonograms, the tests, the medicines, the injections, the everything is out of the question right now. We barely have enough money to feed ourselves. What was wrong with me to think that maybe I could take care of a baby or two? The desire to have children and to love them and care for them is all encompassing. It surpasses my basic survival instincts, or at least, it seems to. I feel like I'm drowning in a never ending cycle of misery and despair and all because of money. People who say money can't buy everything never had to live without it. It can't buy joy, but it can buy food and shelter and clothing. It can buy doctors and medicine and health care. It can buy a car that won't break down if you look at it wrong. It can alleviate some stress. The stress of basic living and functioning. Without worry of where your next meal is coming from or whether or not your shoes will hold out the rest of the year, one can concentrate on other things. I'm so sick of this. This cycle of poverty and desperation. Of being told that there are programs to help, but they won't help. I've tried. I've tried them all. I'm sick of not being able to help myself. I'm going to school so that hopefully I can help myself in the future. But what happens to the present? I can't work and get a job with insurance while I'm in school. I did that before and wound up in the hospital from exhaustion and stress. I'm walking a razor thin line of dilemmas. "Go to school part time and work," was a suggestion. I lose a great chunk of my financial aid when I do that. Tried it last semester. I lost a lot of scholarship money because of it. The loans alone aren't enough to cover everything, even for part time.
All of this ties into my "What do I do now?" questions. Finish school to have a better future and be able to support the babies, but at the cost of possibly not being able to have them. I'm on a very tight timeline. I don't know. I can't even think coherently right now. All of the thoughts in my brain are jumping at me at once. I need to breathe and I can't. I need to sleep and I can't. Each thought is shouting at mee, "what are you going to do?! You have to pick one thing or the other and neither is guaranteed to help your situation any!" They taunt me and mock me. None of them offering any hope or suggestions of a way out. I've hit the very bottom. And I'm curled up crying.
Add to that, today my father-in-law was in a very nasty car wreck. He's okay. The car isn't. I went to pick him up and it was a mess. Traffic. The cars. Ambulances. Fire trucks. He was pretty shaken up, and got a ticket, but I'm so glad he's okay. I also think I somehow managed to kill all the fish in his fish tank while he's been gone at the hospital with the mother-in-law who had back surgery. I just tossed out a very large, very dead plecostomus. I don't know if I overfed them, underfed, them or what happened. I can't do anything right, it seems.
Affording the sonograms, the tests, the medicines, the injections, the everything is out of the question right now. We barely have enough money to feed ourselves. What was wrong with me to think that maybe I could take care of a baby or two? The desire to have children and to love them and care for them is all encompassing. It surpasses my basic survival instincts, or at least, it seems to. I feel like I'm drowning in a never ending cycle of misery and despair and all because of money. People who say money can't buy everything never had to live without it. It can't buy joy, but it can buy food and shelter and clothing. It can buy doctors and medicine and health care. It can buy a car that won't break down if you look at it wrong. It can alleviate some stress. The stress of basic living and functioning. Without worry of where your next meal is coming from or whether or not your shoes will hold out the rest of the year, one can concentrate on other things. I'm so sick of this. This cycle of poverty and desperation. Of being told that there are programs to help, but they won't help. I've tried. I've tried them all. I'm sick of not being able to help myself. I'm going to school so that hopefully I can help myself in the future. But what happens to the present? I can't work and get a job with insurance while I'm in school. I did that before and wound up in the hospital from exhaustion and stress. I'm walking a razor thin line of dilemmas. "Go to school part time and work," was a suggestion. I lose a great chunk of my financial aid when I do that. Tried it last semester. I lost a lot of scholarship money because of it. The loans alone aren't enough to cover everything, even for part time.
All of this ties into my "What do I do now?" questions. Finish school to have a better future and be able to support the babies, but at the cost of possibly not being able to have them. I'm on a very tight timeline. I don't know. I can't even think coherently right now. All of the thoughts in my brain are jumping at me at once. I need to breathe and I can't. I need to sleep and I can't. Each thought is shouting at mee, "what are you going to do?! You have to pick one thing or the other and neither is guaranteed to help your situation any!" They taunt me and mock me. None of them offering any hope or suggestions of a way out. I've hit the very bottom. And I'm curled up crying.
Add to that, today my father-in-law was in a very nasty car wreck. He's okay. The car isn't. I went to pick him up and it was a mess. Traffic. The cars. Ambulances. Fire trucks. He was pretty shaken up, and got a ticket, but I'm so glad he's okay. I also think I somehow managed to kill all the fish in his fish tank while he's been gone at the hospital with the mother-in-law who had back surgery. I just tossed out a very large, very dead plecostomus. I don't know if I overfed them, underfed, them or what happened. I can't do anything right, it seems.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
I don't feel so good.
On almost all fronts. I'm nauseated and crampy from the progesterone. I can't control my moods very much. I've found myself sticking my foot in my mouth more often than not. This morning, I feel I hurt the feelings of my dad's fiancee something fierce. And what I said was not meant as offensive. In my mind and in my heart, I really and truly meant it as a compliment. See, she's pretty rockin'. But I was working on about an hour and a half of hormonal manic sleep in which I cried myself to the slumber. I had gotten up early to go with my parents-in-law to the hospital. MIL was having back surgery. So, coupled with the stress of that, the hormonal crappy sleep, the fact that I have mouth diarrhea sometimes, it was not a good morning. I've apologized profusely, especially when I sit and think about what I said. My rational side just screams at me, "You are such a bitch! How could you say something like that to the nice woman who makes your daddy so damn happy?" My emotional/hormonal side just sits in the corner rocking back and forth and muttering to herself, "I'm sorry. It was a nice thing to say. I meant it nice. I meant it to mean she was really awesome." Then the rocking turns into wracking sobs. And this dialogue goes back and forth in my brain so much that I've worried myself sick over it.
Okay, so even at 27, I'm new to this weird crappy hormonal thing. Sorta. It's never constant, the effects. I haven't ovulated in 14 years. I've had 6 years of birth control induced periods and the wanky PMS symptoms those give. I've been diagnosed and treated for severe Pre-menstrual Dysphoric Disorder. I was told to quit taking the Prozac that helps that immensely. I haven't taken it in nearly 6 months. With my hormones being stuck in a semi-constant PMS state, I question the wisdom of the doctor on that decision. So, right now, I'm on my own in a weird hormonal wonderland of guilt, shame, misunderstandings and overall malfunction of, well, everything. In full-blown, actually-gonna-ovulate PMDD PMS. And I have final exams over the course of the next two days. The inability to focus on that is an incredible thorn in my side. I'm doing my best, but wish there were something that could help. I know, I know: "This, too, shall pass." Doesn't make it any easier.
The onset of increased hormone activity also increases my sensory perceptions. I hear everything. I smell everything. Couple that with the synesthetic goodness of tasting and seeing what I hear, well, I'm having a blast. A regular LSD-tripping blast. I've never done drugs of any kind, except the kind that are prescribed to me. A bad experience with hydrocodone right before my last surgery has left me scarred for narcotics for a long while. Regardless, the effects of the acid trip will often induce synesthesia in the individuals being affected. So, think of living with most forms of synesthesia as living with an acid trip. ALL. THE. DAMN. TIME. Normally it's not so bad, and I actually just go with the flow of things as they pass in and out of my psyche. Not when my hormones are significantly and exponentially (redundancy for the win) increased. At this point it's a wonder I'm not committed temporarily.
Okay, so even at 27, I'm new to this weird crappy hormonal thing. Sorta. It's never constant, the effects. I haven't ovulated in 14 years. I've had 6 years of birth control induced periods and the wanky PMS symptoms those give. I've been diagnosed and treated for severe Pre-menstrual Dysphoric Disorder. I was told to quit taking the Prozac that helps that immensely. I haven't taken it in nearly 6 months. With my hormones being stuck in a semi-constant PMS state, I question the wisdom of the doctor on that decision. So, right now, I'm on my own in a weird hormonal wonderland of guilt, shame, misunderstandings and overall malfunction of, well, everything. In full-blown, actually-gonna-ovulate PMDD PMS. And I have final exams over the course of the next two days. The inability to focus on that is an incredible thorn in my side. I'm doing my best, but wish there were something that could help. I know, I know: "This, too, shall pass." Doesn't make it any easier.
The onset of increased hormone activity also increases my sensory perceptions. I hear everything. I smell everything. Couple that with the synesthetic goodness of tasting and seeing what I hear, well, I'm having a blast. A regular LSD-tripping blast. I've never done drugs of any kind, except the kind that are prescribed to me. A bad experience with hydrocodone right before my last surgery has left me scarred for narcotics for a long while. Regardless, the effects of the acid trip will often induce synesthesia in the individuals being affected. So, think of living with most forms of synesthesia as living with an acid trip. ALL. THE. DAMN. TIME. Normally it's not so bad, and I actually just go with the flow of things as they pass in and out of my psyche. Not when my hormones are significantly and exponentially (redundancy for the win) increased. At this point it's a wonder I'm not committed temporarily.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Things I Love
I never really understood why that song from The Sound of Music is a Christmas song now. You know the one..."raindrops on roses, and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles, and warm woolen mittens...yadda yadda." Nevertheless, I've been thinking about how down I've been and all the hormonal mess my body is going through right now. My poor husband. I've decided that, like everyone else in the world, since the "Holidays"--that ambiguous word that describes everything from Thanksgiving through New Year's--I should write about the things I love. At the very least, make a list. It helps to get me out of the funk I'm in. So, without further ado, here is a list of things that I love or like or am thankful for, and not in any particular order--just how the spring up in my mind:
1. Cello music
2. Oboe music
3. Tim
4. Daddy
5. Ma and Pa in-law
6. Disney movies
7. Cu Sidhe
8. Rydia
9. Tetris
10. Chinese food
11. Brownies with walnuts
12. Soft blankets
13. Cinnamon
14. Clean bathrooms
15. Spicy candles
16. Spicy food
17. Cloudy days
18. Rain
19. Footie pajamas
20. Cryptozoology
21. Jenn
22. Sara
23. Sarah
24. Tricia
25. Red
26. Synesthesia
27. Corn-free ketchup
28. Cottontails
29. Santa
30. Being able to go to school
31. The smell of crayons and scotch tape
32. Beethoven
33. Jazz music
34. Swing and Big Band music
35. Music in general
36. Astronomy
37. Apples
38. Baking for my loved ones
39. Hot bubble baths
40. Granny!
41. Judy
42. The Beatles
43. Ice cream sundaes
44. Freshly laundered towels
45. Good doctors
46. Cartoons
47. Funny hats
48. Sock puppets
49. Musicals
50. Sharp scissors
I will stop at 50, but even the little things count. To the friends I listed, you guys are pretty awesome and I'm thankful for each and everyone of you, even if I never see y'all in person any more. Yay for the distance-spanning internet.
1. Cello music
2. Oboe music
3. Tim
4. Daddy
5. Ma and Pa in-law
6. Disney movies
7. Cu Sidhe
8. Rydia
9. Tetris
10. Chinese food
11. Brownies with walnuts
12. Soft blankets
13. Cinnamon
14. Clean bathrooms
15. Spicy candles
16. Spicy food
17. Cloudy days
18. Rain
19. Footie pajamas
20. Cryptozoology
21. Jenn
22. Sara
23. Sarah
24. Tricia
25. Red
26. Synesthesia
27. Corn-free ketchup
28. Cottontails
29. Santa
30. Being able to go to school
31. The smell of crayons and scotch tape
32. Beethoven
33. Jazz music
34. Swing and Big Band music
35. Music in general
36. Astronomy
37. Apples
38. Baking for my loved ones
39. Hot bubble baths
40. Granny!
41. Judy
42. The Beatles
43. Ice cream sundaes
44. Freshly laundered towels
45. Good doctors
46. Cartoons
47. Funny hats
48. Sock puppets
49. Musicals
50. Sharp scissors
I will stop at 50, but even the little things count. To the friends I listed, you guys are pretty awesome and I'm thankful for each and everyone of you, even if I never see y'all in person any more. Yay for the distance-spanning internet.
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