I’ve spent the last two evenings with SIL and BabyH at our husbands’ baseball games and for the most part it’s been good. I love my neice, and it appears that I do have that mommy instinct in knowing just how to hold her, rock her, talk to her to get her to stop crying. It just feels so natural.

Like I said, most of it is good. There are moments, however, when I look over at SIL giving her baby a kiss on the cheek and settling BabyH into her arms that I feel a million miles away. Something so simple and honest, seems so easy for them… and here I am, here we are, still so far from it. How much longer are we going to have to wait for our turn? How much more do we have to go through?

::

I brought Zoe (the little dog) both days. Zoe isn’t good with strangers. Or strange things. Or strange noises. She is extremely skittish, hides from people, cowers in the corner, etc. But honestly I felt like I needed to bring her for me… I feel so alone without a baby in my arms, so at least bringing her gives me something – someone – to take care of. She’s not so thrilled with this however… she’d much rather stay home. But she did really well… I’m quite pleased with her progress in general.

It was also Zoe’s first introduction to a baby. She’s met little kids before, but never a baby. I was curious how she’d react. And she…. didn’t. I mean, she knew the baby was there. She sniffed BabyH’s feet and took about .2 seconds to decide that babies aren’t a threat so they’re not on her radar. Baby screaming? Whatever. It’s cool. Actually, when someone strange (and thus, scary) walked too close to our blanket Zoe actually crammed herself between me and SIL, right next to BabyH. When I was holding BabyH I said, “Hey Zoe, come look at the baby,” and turned to show Zoe. Zoe basically responded with, “Thanks, but I’m cool mom,” and stayed laying behind us. (Hiding out of sight from all the baseball players.) She just doesn’t care. Not scared of it, not interested in it either.

Do I think thinks would change in our house? Maybe. A little. A baby would be more interesting to her if she wasn’t so concerned about everything else around her. But it’s obvious that she feels that a baby is totally non-threatening and she’s not at all concerned about baby cries or even screams. I think she’ll be an excellent dog to have around a baby… she’s the kind of dog to nap at my feet all day or just occupy herself with a chew toy. I think when the baby starts crawling it might change, but we’ll just have to see.

We have yet to see how Zeeke (big-dog) would react. Quite frankly no one wants Zeeke around their baby. He’s a bit… exuberant.

Sometimes – it doesn’t happen often, but once in a rare while – I will find myself daydreaming, thinking, We can do that with Dev-… And then searing pain pierces my chest as I am slammed back to the present, choked with the reality that we will never do anything with Devin ever again.

The memories are precious; the broken dreams are hell.

::

I look at the calendar with a sense of relief. Only two more weeks to wait. Two weeks seems so close, I can handle that. Sometimes during the day I glance at the countdown. When I see “15 days left” I feel something relax in my head, in my body… something I didn’t even know I was tensing. It is relief, it is hope. It is a date, a promise.

I am worried, a little, about this month. I would not have thought this is what I would have wanted, but suddenly now that we are here, the month when we conceived a year ago, I realize that I really want to be pregnant this month. I want to follow Devin’s footsteps. And maybe it would be better for me if I didn’t… if my next pregnancy is on a different time schedule. But right now there’s nothing I’d like more than to be due in April. Maybe next time I will get my April baby… on time and healthy.

I feel selfish. I retreat into my little hole. I am scared, uncertain.

I am angry. Not the usual anger, either; I am angry at myself. Not just at not being able to figure things out, but angry that I am so upset by this that I am frozen. I have been jittery, anxious. I watched TV shows all day in an attempt to numb myself, hoping that by the time I was tired I’d forget about everything else. It didn’t work. Every time the show stopped I returned to this. This unease. This disappointment.

I don’t like feeling like this. I hate feeling like this. I’ve spent most of my life wishing I could make it go away. Thankfully, with the meds, I can make a lot of it go away. It used to be impossible to turn off my brain, and now it only happens once in a while. I feel lucky for that. It was near to impossible to function with that buzzing in my ear, wearing me down. But days like this I still feel the same. I feel like that same lost, frightened girl I used to be, looking for something to hold on to. I am, but I’m not. I can’t decide.

I tell myself, over and over again, that it’s all okay. That it’s fine – even if things don’t work out the way I thought they would that it’s okay. Even if the plans change. Even if I’m adrift for the moment. That, somehow, things will find a new path and I’ll be okay again. I always am. But damnit, I get scared. I get so scared thinking that this is the reality and the other is just made-up. That I am not in control, I am not strong, I am not happy. That instead I am really this: small, scared, just along for the ride.

Losing Devin is supposed to be so important. Losing Devin is so important. So why am I so upset over something small and stupid? What does it matter what else happens? Why do I care so much what others think of me? I don’t want it to matter. I don’t want to care.

When did life creep back up on me? When did the normal fears and worries and frustrations become a part of my thought processes? Sometimes, times like this, I want to go back to when I hurt so badly I didn’t care at all about anything else in the world. At least then I had only one thing to worry about. At least then it felt understandable.

I’ll figure it out. Or at least, I’ll get on top of this emotional snag. Just give me a day or two… maybe I’ll wake up feeling fine. But damn do I hate feeling like this.

Everyone knows how a huge blow like losing a child can knock you down. You think of course I’m not functioning right now. It’s obvious. You give yourself leeway and understanding.

But no one talks about how the little blows can be just as devastating to one’s sense of self… one’s sense of worth. You think Well shit, I can’t even handle this? What am I good for? There is no leeway, no understanding. There is frustration and anger. I think those can be harder to get up from.

I just don’t know who I am anymore. I feel like a failure in so many ways. I gave myself leeway when I was pregnant, I gave myself leeway when Devin died, but now I’m left wondering, what if I just can’t do this? What if I, as intelligent as I am, am just not strong enough to handle this? How can I, will all my skills and knowledge, be so incapable of completeing anything? I am famous for starting projects and never finishing them. I always feel like I am two steps behind, struggling to catch up, struggling to keep on top of things. I am worn down. I am tired. And I just can’t find it in me to keep trying to pick myself back up.

I am glad I am looking to return to college because that seems to be the one thing I am good at. I completed my Bachelor’s Degree after 4 years of full-time classes, and graduated with a 3.85 GPA. I cling to that far more than I should, but some days it feels like the only thing I’ve ever excelled at, ever followed through on.

I’ve felt for years now that I just don’t know what direction my life was supposed to take. I completed that whole degree and then realized I don’t think I’m cut out for that kind of career – I don’t enjoy it enough. So I dabble here and dabble there. I know I’m only 25, but I feel like the world expects me to know what I want to do with my life by now. I’m supposed to have a job, have a career… I’m supposed to be on the road to making lots of money and repaying society for the education I received. At least when I was 18 I had opportunities, I had choices. Now I’ve travelled down some of the paths and find that I don’t like them. I’ve turned around, I’ve changed direction. Now I am more lost than ever. Hitting those dead-ends really makes me question myself and wonder if I’ll ever find a path, or maybe I’m just not strong enough to get through the obstacles in my way.

Link from Tash.

End result of the medications: feeling lots better! However, will likely NOT be taking anything with codeine in it again. At first I thought it was just coincidental… I took the Tussionex before bed on Thursday. I got a full night’s sleep. That right there was worth it! I actually didn’t get sleepy like the doctor said I would, but 2 hours later I did get tired on my own and was able to sleep. I slept way in the next day, went to work… and dragged my ass. I was nodding off all day, even though I had slept a long time. Regardless, I thought I’d try it again, see what happened. Guess what happened? Slept all night! And… most of the day. And then was fighting to stay awake the rest of the day. It’s now 10pm and I’m finally feeling clear-headed. Hrmph. That’s irritating. That’s why I wasn’t posting… I couldn’t wade through my thoughts enough to write something.

I am feeling much better though. I know the medication wasn’t to help it heal, but rather to let me sleep… and it did that part really well. I think the virus was on its way out already. It’s nice that I’m starting to feel human again!

::

With being sick all week I didn’t exercise at all; there were some days that rolling out of bed seemed like far too much effort. But I guess I hadn’t really been eating as much either, as my weight continues its trend downward. And you know what today marks? My first week at lower than pre-pregnancy weight! Actually today I weighed in at exactly 140lbs. Holy crap! I know it’s going to jump up a little bit now that I’m not sick, but that’s still totally cool. When the numbers hit the one 130s I’m going to start shrieking with joy.

::

I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching this week, feeling miserable and trying to figure out what I need to do to make this better. And I decided I need to go back to school. I need to immerse myself in something interesting, something worthwhile… I need to challenge my mind.

I’m also going to be pursuing my doula education, going to workshops and whatever I can. I also will be attending either the AFA Infertility Conference in October in NYC or the Resolve of the Bay State conference, also in October, Marlborough MA. I doubt I can afford both, but I am absolutely going to one of them.

That’s what got me started thinking about school. I realize I love these conferences, I love workshops… why? Knowledge! Learning, growing, taking things in on a topic that interests me. And eventually the thought came around to, well, let’s find somethinig else I want to learn. The non-credit courses are a crock (how to get out of debt?), but the credit courses sound fascinating. That’s when I realized I want to go back to college!

I have a Bachelor’s Degree in Computer Information Systems. I could do a lot with that, if I wanted to. But one thing I regret, and something that Den feels I missed out on, was a general education. My degree is completely technical. I had all my program required courses – computers with some communications and math – and some electives. No college core courses. And I feel I could really benefit from a broadened education on many different topics.

I have always been interested in Philosophy and Psychology, and that hasn’t changed. But now I’m also reading the course descriptions for some Biology courses with great interest. Topics such as Human Reproduction and Embryology sound really, really cool. I’m a bit nervous about taking Biology, yes I am… it’s something I’ve always steered far away from. But I feel it all matters, especially after learning as much as I have on my own about infertility. I like that kind of stuff, believe it or not.

So on Monday hubby and I are heading over to the local college to find out what I need to do to get registered and figure out how much of my previous education (which was completed in Canada) will transfer. I don’t have a lot outside of computers, but I do have some Philosophy and Mathematics courses that I hope I don’t have to repeat.

I’ve always known I wanted to go back to school at some point, but I figured it was “in the future.” After raising kids and all, when I got a chance to. But, well, the kids part is taking a lot longer than I ever expected, and I realized I can’t just putting things off waiting for “when I have kids.” I have tons of exciting, great plans for when we HAVE a baby… ways to keep occupied, things to do. I’ll have something wonderful to focus on. But right now I don’t have that and I’m going a little crazy. It can’t be my whole world.

Doctor appointment today to make sure nothing worse has developed, since my voice is STILL not back and it’s been a week since I first got sick. Result: nothing worse. It’s my sinuses, probably viral, and I have laryngitis from it. Fantastic. (I asked him what exactly laryngitis was, he said “irritation of the vocal chords.” Well duh, I could have told him I had that!) He gave me a script for a cough suppressant with codeine, so I could sleep, and some antibiotics just in case it’s not viral. Whatever, at this point… just whatever. I’ll take anything if it helps it go away.

I have discovered a pretty major problem, however: the “will make you drowsy, don’t take in the morning if you have to go to work” codeine stuff? DIDDLY-SQUAT. Oh for heaven’s sake, not again! Every medicine I’ve taken, over the counter or prescription, that was warned would make me drowsy has NOT done so. Sudafed? Cough medicine? Freakin’ codeine? Nada. Zip. Still awake. Apparently my body does not take hints very well. I do remember percocet made me drowsy… and very very loopy. I liked that stuff. (Had a couple pills after my laparoscopy.)

I also picked up my anti-depressant refill today, but didn’t get to take one until after work. End result: was starting to go into withdrawal. That’s always fun. My hands were trembling and I felt really… twitchy. Brain running a little fast. Thankfully it was mild and only lasted a couple hours until my dose kicked in. But the rest of my day before then? Giant disaster. It was one of those really annoying moods where I KNOW I’m being completely irrational, and yet I can’t help myself. It’s like I just can’t quite get in control of it, my moods just run off the cliff without me. I felt my head pounding in a minor freak-out when I couldn’t get a stuck door open. I came across a bush that was wilting because of weeds overtaking it and nearly burst into tears. I had many moments today where I would just see or think of something and set off the water works. That is NOT like me. I am a very emotional, passionate person, but I do not normally have a temper and weepiness like that. It was taxing.

That’s the thing with me and my meds. I’ve heard people talk about how they feel “numb” while taking SSRIs, and that’s totally not how it affects me at all. As you have all seen, I am still a very emotional person… I feel things very very deeply, good or bad. My pregnancy was so full of joy, my grief so full of sorrow. All of that while on the SSRIs. But when I’m off them it’s like something gets flicked past “normal” to “crazy.” Instead of having normal highs and lows it’s like I get a little manic-depressive with how hard I can crash. I just can’t explain it unless you’ve felt it, but it’s nasty. And that’s how I felt ALL the time before I got on the meds. I am just really thankful that they let me have normal emotions, let me stay in control. I would not be in a good spot without them.

Appointment with RE has been made. August 1… 3 weeks away. I’m hoping that gives us enough time to start next cycle with whatever it is we come up with.

I also chose to make the appointment with a different doctor than who handled our treatment last year. I have a lot of questions about our IVF cycles and why things went the way they did.

It feels good to at least have this on my calendar. I can start aiming for treatment instead of freaking out about this cycle.

I have been checking my cervix for days now for some sort of sign. The last few days, after the negative tests, I’ve just been looking desperately for AF. If I’m not pregnant, fine… just give me AF! Let me get it over with! Stop stringing me along like some two-bit boyfriend who doesn’t have any balls!

After my large freak-out this evening I just layed there for a few hours, watching Lost and thinking about my life, thinking about this cycle. Coming to terms with this. I guess I sort of had it in my head that I’d get pregnant on my second cycle. I’m not sure why exactly – I knew the first would be too much to ask, but the second now, that seemed still within the window of possibility… before my body went back to my infertile self, but not too easy either. So it’s a lot harder than I anticipated to move on to cycle 3.

I think I may be revising my original plan of four natural cycles before moving on to medicated ones. Only two cycles down and I’m already done with it, already at my emotional breaking point. In many ways it feels like we never stopped, and unmedicated cycles seem like such a step backwards. Like Den said to me tonight, we know IVF works. And that’s great, but we can’t do IVF just yet. So let’s do something else. I don’t want to sit on my hands wishing and hoping and prancing around the fire praying for a miracle. I’m ready to do something about it.

Today I would have made the call to the RE – would have, had I been able to speak. I didn’t think calling up and saying, “Aagggghhhhhh crrooaaakkkk” would really have done much good. So Den said he’d call tomorrow and make an appointment for us. Hopefully it’ll be soon. Hopefully we can get started next cycle. We have a month to try again.

I tried sleeping after making my plans, but that only ended up in a huge coughing fit. I had to get up. While I was up I checked my cervix one more time to see if anything had changed. Cervix lower, but firm. And… wait, what is that? Blood! Yes indeed, it is the flag runner for AF: she is on her way.

I feel relieved, now. Just relieved. I guess I did ovulate when I thought I did. Yet again I feel foolish for doubting my body. Things are a little off still, but it’s still functioning, apparently. Now I can stop obsessing and wondering and get on with the next cycle, get on with the appointments and the plans. Stepping out of limbo feels like a weight lifted off of my shoulders.

Oh and my first three post-partum cycles? Start dates are 5/10, 6/10, 7/10. Make of that what you will. I think I’m pretty done with signs from mother nature. She can go shove ’em.

Yesterday my husband looked at me while I was ranting about something-or-another and said, “Don’t crash on me.” I assured him I was not.

NOW I am.

I have run out of medication. My anti-depressants. I noticed I was running low last week, but with being sick as hell it slipped by mind. So today I pick it up and realize it is empty. And, in fact, I’m not even sure I took any yesterday. I can’t remember much of anything right now. So this is not helping with the day in general, but it is by far not the only factor.

My MIL has cancer. Did I mention that? No? Apparently this is the next shoe that life has chucked in our general direction. It is turning heel over toe directly for our foreheads, and I’m not entirely sure we have enough energy in us to duck. So far the prognosis is unknown, all we know is that it is indeed cancer. Biopsy on her lymph nodes in 2 weeks (2 weeks!!) will tell the doctors what they are dealing with and what she is facing. What we are all facing. And I would like to point out, in a giant “FUCK YOU” to the universe, that I happen to like my MIL a lot. I hear so many horror stories about mothers-in-law and all I can say is that I got very very lucky. She threw my baby shower for us. She showed up on our doorstep the day we got home from the hospital, crying. She’s putting a stone in her grandmother’s ring for Devin, because he’s their grandchild. There is so much more I could say about this woman. She raised Denis and his brother by herself for the most part, until getting re-married when they were older. I am just stunned – STUNNED – that four months after losing his son my husband is now hit with this.

So yeah, anger? I have a lot of it. And no one to direct it towards.

I have basically been restricted to bed for the past four days, and it’s getting rather draining. I’m feeling a little better but it’s so hot and humid out that I can’t even leave the bedroom without sweating to death. I’m starting to feel like the world doesn’t exist outside my bedroom and my laptop. I’m watching Lost episodes and posting on forums (which seem so very quiet, is that just me?). I’m on AF watch, which is making me break down a little more each hour.

At this point I have no clue if I even ovulated when I thought I did. (And if I did ovulate late it means we have no chance at pregnancy, because I got sick and no sex has been happening.) I keep reminding myself that if I did ovulate it still might not show up until Friday. But the wait just… sucks. In so many ways. Just waiting for the timer to run out. It makes me feel so goddamn frustrated.

I feel like I have no life. Waiting for our next chance, our next appointment, for insurance so we can start IVF. When we lost Devin I lost every sense of self that I had. I was regaining it, I was building a new me, but just now… being sick and slightly delirious… I feel like I have none. Like I don’t care. Like every good damn thing in the world is being taken away from me and I just don’t give a fuck anymore. Or I do, and I don’t want to. I want to stop feeling, I want to stop wishing and hoping, I want to stop waiting.

I hurt, in body, mind and soul. I just want to stop hurting.