Hi Folks! If you've made it here from ICLW, I hope you enjoy your visit. You can discover more about me here and about of TTC journey here. I'll be making the ICLW rounds today, seeing as I am lounging at home sick today (blech!).
I'll begin the story of my sickness with telling you that last Wednesday was my mom's birthday and I had planned a birthday party for her for Saturday (this past one). So Saturday morning about 6am I woke up with my throat on FIRE! It hurt so badly, I thought I would actually cry. But, I got up and got started getting things ready for the party anyway. We had a lovely time, despite me having a fever. On Sunday, my sore throat had developed into a runny nose and a bad cough. Fever continued. I should have gone to the doctor on Monday, but I had to carry my mom back to HER doctor for her follow-up visit from her surgery (she got an excellent report for anyone who's interested). Her doctor was a two hour drive away and she was not allowed to drive, so off we went, fever, cough, runny nose and all.
Finally, yesterday I decided I really had to go see the doctor. I had gone into work, but left to see what was wrong with me. The doctor was in the room for all of about 2 minutes and she said "I think you have bronchitis." Wonderful! That's the second time this year. Anyway, she prescribed 4 medications and gave me a shot of Rocephin in my hip (burns being injected, hip still very sore today).
So, I'm home sick today again. I have no voice, my throat hurts, I still have a runny nose and I'm coughing every two seconds. What a fun day to spend at home! At least I'm not at work.
Anyway, I'm going to rest for a little while because this post has exhausted me (I'm pathetic, really), then I'll start visiting some ICLW blogs!
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Show and Tell - A Busy Week
The wonderful and lovely Suzy at Not a Fertile Myrtle has restarted Show and Tell for those of us who were missing it! Be sure to stop over and join in!
I'm feeling somewhat better now than I was earlier this week. Let me apologize again for my whiney posts. I just felt the need to vent.
Anyway, I thought for this Show and Tell that I would share with you the events of this busy week, which included a visit with my RE, my mom's surgery and my latest ankle swelling.
I'll begin with my RE visit. When we got to the visit, we were carried back pretty much immediately. Dr. O discussed a few things with us and then I explained to him that I had had some cramping pain in the weeks since the surgery while on Megace. He decided that he would do an ultrasound just to see where we were with things. It turns out that my endometrial lining is a little thick (8mm to 10mm), I have a 13mm follicle on my left ovary (with Megace, per Dr. O, there should be no follicles) and I have a tubal cyst. So, Dr. O decided to take me off Megace for a week to bring on AF, then on CD5 I'll start Megace again. I'll suppress my cycle for 6 weeks again, then come off Megace again to start AF, have a cycle and then, after the cycle has finished, Dr. O will do another endometrial biopsy and we'll go from there.
Also, I've been doing home glucose monitoring to be sure we're able to manage my sugar levels. Dr. O was a little disturbed by the fact that my fasting sugar levels which should be averaging under 110 are actually averaging 130 to 140 and my two hour post-meal levels should be under 150 but mine are running around 180 to 250. Dr. O has decided he will be referring me to a medical endocrinologist. So I have that to look forward to. Fun stuff to come soon!
My mom had back surgery the same day as my RE visit. I have to say she's doing very well afterwards. She had degenerative disc disease and her doctor had to put a couple of metal pins in one of the discs to lift it off the nerve in her back. As the only female around, I'm having to play nursemaid. I've been changing dressings and making sure she has what she needs. Considering what life has been like around here lately, it's actually been okay. She's been rather nice which is a change from her usual self. I'm pleased to see the change.
Last but not least, on Tuesday of this week, my left foot decided to swell up. This happens fairly frequently (about once every couple of months). It's been happening for a couple of years and I've seen my regular doctor and an orthopedic surgeon regarding the swelling, but no one can determine what the problem is. It has been suggested it may be gout, but I've tried a steroid pack and Colchecine amongst other medications for gout and it has had no effect whatsoever. Dr. O thinks it may be rheumatoid arthritis and he has stated we will probably do a referral to a rheumatologist before the end of the year. Hopefully, they'll be able to determine what is causing the trouble. In true Show and Tell fashion, I'll share a picture of my swollen ankle with you.
Looks painful, eh? It is.
Ta-ta for now, friends!
Monday, September 6, 2010
A Dream of the Past
I had a dream last night. I was walking through the mall that was in the town where The Hubs and I lived in England, but none of the stores were open. There were no people in the shopping centre either. It was peaceful. I wasn't trying to get into any of the stores, I was just walking around the place. I could feel myself really missing being there.
When I woke up, I found myself thinking about the dream. I still felt that sense of loss that comes with missing something. I was missing England. The place we lived, the stores we shopped in, the home we lived in, the restaurants we ate in, the experiences we had.
But the more I thought about it, the more I felt that it isn't any of those things I really miss, but the life we had there. The freedom from everything that existed there, in that time. Let me explain...
When we lived in England, it's true that I missed my home terribly. It was the first time I had ever been away from home and, even though it lasted 3 1/2 years, it was still very difficult for me. I missed my family and wanted to be closer to them. I thought that the overt childish treatment I had been given by my family all my life would have disappeared. I felt they would have grasped the fact that I had grown up in my time away from them. Sadly, that is not the case. My mother still treats me as though I'm a teenager. She asks about our finances, where we go, what we do....and not in an interested parent way, but in a "you need to ask my permission" way. She tells me what she thinks we should and shouldn't spend our money on, where and when she thinks we should go and what she thinks we should do. And if we say we're going to do something she disagrees with, her response is often "I said you're not" as though she has a right to dictate our every move.
Don't get me wrong, I do love my mother, but I need space from her. The Hubs and I need the freedom to be adults in charge of our own lives. We are 34 (The Hubs) and almost-32 (me) -years-old, if we aren't capable of running our own lives by now, surely we are in a world of trouble!
But that is only part of what I miss of our life in England. I miss that we were financially secure in a way we've never been here. As I explained in my previous post, we're okay money-wise for the area we live in, but it's nothing like the income we had in England. There we were able to put several hundred GBP per month into savings. That's how we were able to move to the States. I can't help but look at the inevitable: had we stayed in England, at this point in time we would be in a house that belongs to us rather than one we're renting from my mother; we'd already be much farther along with our TTC journey than we are now; we'd almost certainly be happier than we are now with our lives.
In England, The Hubs had held his job for 7 years and he loved it! I had a job I really enjoyed working with a Financial Advisor. We were both happy in our careers and they were lucrative. I felt unhappy there because I missed home, but we were able to visit the States at least once every 6 months. Since moving here, we've been back to England only once. It will probably be next Christmas (2011) before we're able to go back again. I hate that I can't give The Hubs the same support he gave me when I was living away from home.
In fairness, I have to say that, had our plan for moving to the USA worked the way we intended it to, I probably wouldn't feel the way I do about life in it's current incarnation. However, we never intended to settle this close to my family (we live right next door) and we never intended to be doing the jobs we're doing now. Our grand plan was to settle in Savannah and find jobs we loved. Naively idealistic to a fault, it never occurred to us that this would be too tall an asking.
It's soul-destroying to dwell on what-could-have-been and I know that. I know I should leave it alone and be happy, or, at a minimum, accepting of, the life I have now. But I'm currently in a self-deprecating and self-pitying frame of mind, so I'll simply apologize once again for feeling sorry for myself and retreat to my own mind with these thoughts. Sorry for laying this all out for you to have to sift through as well.
When I woke up, I found myself thinking about the dream. I still felt that sense of loss that comes with missing something. I was missing England. The place we lived, the stores we shopped in, the home we lived in, the restaurants we ate in, the experiences we had.
But the more I thought about it, the more I felt that it isn't any of those things I really miss, but the life we had there. The freedom from everything that existed there, in that time. Let me explain...
When we lived in England, it's true that I missed my home terribly. It was the first time I had ever been away from home and, even though it lasted 3 1/2 years, it was still very difficult for me. I missed my family and wanted to be closer to them. I thought that the overt childish treatment I had been given by my family all my life would have disappeared. I felt they would have grasped the fact that I had grown up in my time away from them. Sadly, that is not the case. My mother still treats me as though I'm a teenager. She asks about our finances, where we go, what we do....and not in an interested parent way, but in a "you need to ask my permission" way. She tells me what she thinks we should and shouldn't spend our money on, where and when she thinks we should go and what she thinks we should do. And if we say we're going to do something she disagrees with, her response is often "I said you're not" as though she has a right to dictate our every move.
Don't get me wrong, I do love my mother, but I need space from her. The Hubs and I need the freedom to be adults in charge of our own lives. We are 34 (The Hubs) and almost-32 (me) -years-old, if we aren't capable of running our own lives by now, surely we are in a world of trouble!
But that is only part of what I miss of our life in England. I miss that we were financially secure in a way we've never been here. As I explained in my previous post, we're okay money-wise for the area we live in, but it's nothing like the income we had in England. There we were able to put several hundred GBP per month into savings. That's how we were able to move to the States. I can't help but look at the inevitable: had we stayed in England, at this point in time we would be in a house that belongs to us rather than one we're renting from my mother; we'd already be much farther along with our TTC journey than we are now; we'd almost certainly be happier than we are now with our lives.
In England, The Hubs had held his job for 7 years and he loved it! I had a job I really enjoyed working with a Financial Advisor. We were both happy in our careers and they were lucrative. I felt unhappy there because I missed home, but we were able to visit the States at least once every 6 months. Since moving here, we've been back to England only once. It will probably be next Christmas (2011) before we're able to go back again. I hate that I can't give The Hubs the same support he gave me when I was living away from home.
In fairness, I have to say that, had our plan for moving to the USA worked the way we intended it to, I probably wouldn't feel the way I do about life in it's current incarnation. However, we never intended to settle this close to my family (we live right next door) and we never intended to be doing the jobs we're doing now. Our grand plan was to settle in Savannah and find jobs we loved. Naively idealistic to a fault, it never occurred to us that this would be too tall an asking.
It's soul-destroying to dwell on what-could-have-been and I know that. I know I should leave it alone and be happy, or, at a minimum, accepting of, the life I have now. But I'm currently in a self-deprecating and self-pitying frame of mind, so I'll simply apologize once again for feeling sorry for myself and retreat to my own mind with these thoughts. Sorry for laying this all out for you to have to sift through as well.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
What the Future Holds
I failed miserably on the 30-Day Blogging Challenge. Although I do have an explanation, which I will give you later in this post. I also think I will pick the blogging challenge back up tomorrow.
Tonight, though, I'm just feeling contemplative. I've been this way a lot lately. In fact, I'm not so sure I'd call it so much contemplative as melancholy. I've been been extremely tearful and weepy in recent days (okay, weeks). I keep thinking about what my appointment in October will reveal. Or possibly what the appointment I have coming up this week will show. I know it isn't helpful to feel the way I'm feeling, but I honestly feel like the news I will be getting will be negative. Since the surgery I've been having pain off and on as I would normally have AF-like cramps. Of course, the medication I'm taking prevents AF from coming, so that can't be what it is. What this leads me to believe is that my endometrial lining will prove to simply grow hyperplasic. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but that means that, even if I can make my wonky, PCOS-riven ovaries do what the heck they're supposed to do and the egg they produce can find it's way to the one remaining tube I have (and, since there has been no HSG done yet, who even knows if it's clear and working) and that egg manages to get fertilized, it will never, ever implant. That is my fear right now. It is the only reality I can believe in.
I know this shouldn't mean that the dream of being parents would be over for us, but it does feel that way. Right now, the expense of adoption through an agency is not within our grasp. I'm trying to finish school (which I will do in 2 years) and the Hubs is currently (thanks to the pitiful economic situation we have in place at the moment) working in a job well below his earning potential. However, since he was out of work for 16 months and has only been employed again for 6 months and the job market in our area is beyond wretched, the chances of his job situation changing anytime soon is remote. I have a job where I make good money (at least for this part of the state), but it makes me miserable lately. We're feeling the crunch of the economy at my workplace as well and are currently on a hiring freeze, which means the employee in my parent department (the department I supervise is within this parent department) who is leaving at the end of September will not be replaced. In addition to my job, I will be taking over part of her's and another team member I supervise will be taking over another bit of her job. What this means for me is a significant increase in my work load (read: stress level) and no additional pay.
So, for now, adoption is on hold. I'm also aware that two years (or even three or four) isn't that long a time-frame (I'm probably more aware of this than most people), but when we're talking about waiting for our child, it seems forever. It feels like there would be too many other things that could/would go wrong in the meantime. I see our potential parenthood slipping away, like I can feel the wispy fingers of our child sliding out of mine while a thief stands grinning at me and pulling my child away.
My heart feels heavy and my stomach clenches in fear of the unknown future that awaits us. I don't think my heart could handle not being a mother. In my mind and soul, I already am a mother, I just have no child to mother. The Hubs still holds hope and optimism that we will get good news from the doctor or that things will turn around for us somehow, somewhere. I just don't, at the moment, feel these are realistic dreams.
Sorry for such a self-pitying post. Please forgive me for it.
In answer to where I've been, The Hubs and I are involved with our local Arts and Entertainment Council and we've been in the middle of a production for the last couple of weeks; a beach, blues and boogie themed musical and dancing. It's over now for a while, so I will hopefully be back to blogging some. You see what happens when I'm away.....I go all melancholy and self-pitying on you.
Tonight, though, I'm just feeling contemplative. I've been this way a lot lately. In fact, I'm not so sure I'd call it so much contemplative as melancholy. I've been been extremely tearful and weepy in recent days (okay, weeks). I keep thinking about what my appointment in October will reveal. Or possibly what the appointment I have coming up this week will show. I know it isn't helpful to feel the way I'm feeling, but I honestly feel like the news I will be getting will be negative. Since the surgery I've been having pain off and on as I would normally have AF-like cramps. Of course, the medication I'm taking prevents AF from coming, so that can't be what it is. What this leads me to believe is that my endometrial lining will prove to simply grow hyperplasic. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but that means that, even if I can make my wonky, PCOS-riven ovaries do what the heck they're supposed to do and the egg they produce can find it's way to the one remaining tube I have (and, since there has been no HSG done yet, who even knows if it's clear and working) and that egg manages to get fertilized, it will never, ever implant. That is my fear right now. It is the only reality I can believe in.
I know this shouldn't mean that the dream of being parents would be over for us, but it does feel that way. Right now, the expense of adoption through an agency is not within our grasp. I'm trying to finish school (which I will do in 2 years) and the Hubs is currently (thanks to the pitiful economic situation we have in place at the moment) working in a job well below his earning potential. However, since he was out of work for 16 months and has only been employed again for 6 months and the job market in our area is beyond wretched, the chances of his job situation changing anytime soon is remote. I have a job where I make good money (at least for this part of the state), but it makes me miserable lately. We're feeling the crunch of the economy at my workplace as well and are currently on a hiring freeze, which means the employee in my parent department (the department I supervise is within this parent department) who is leaving at the end of September will not be replaced. In addition to my job, I will be taking over part of her's and another team member I supervise will be taking over another bit of her job. What this means for me is a significant increase in my work load (read: stress level) and no additional pay.
So, for now, adoption is on hold. I'm also aware that two years (or even three or four) isn't that long a time-frame (I'm probably more aware of this than most people), but when we're talking about waiting for our child, it seems forever. It feels like there would be too many other things that could/would go wrong in the meantime. I see our potential parenthood slipping away, like I can feel the wispy fingers of our child sliding out of mine while a thief stands grinning at me and pulling my child away.
My heart feels heavy and my stomach clenches in fear of the unknown future that awaits us. I don't think my heart could handle not being a mother. In my mind and soul, I already am a mother, I just have no child to mother. The Hubs still holds hope and optimism that we will get good news from the doctor or that things will turn around for us somehow, somewhere. I just don't, at the moment, feel these are realistic dreams.
Sorry for such a self-pitying post. Please forgive me for it.
In answer to where I've been, The Hubs and I are involved with our local Arts and Entertainment Council and we've been in the middle of a production for the last couple of weeks; a beach, blues and boogie themed musical and dancing. It's over now for a while, so I will hopefully be back to blogging some. You see what happens when I'm away.....I go all melancholy and self-pitying on you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
