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.

Link from Tash.

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.

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.

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’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.

I need to get up and get moving, get stuff done and get to work. Instead I’m laying here fighting a battle against the very strong desire to just lay down and go back to sleep. I’m not even really sleepy… it’s not like I’m falling asleep where I sit. I just… don’t want to get up and leave the bedroom. I don’t want to get up and have to deal with anything at all. I even like my job. But I simply just don’t want to move.

This whole week has been like this. I want to sleep all day and night and pretend that nothing else in the world exists. I wish I could.

I cry.

I feel in some ways that I’ve reverted. I remember a time after Devin’s death that I felt alive, that I discovered a new hobby (gardening) and was sketching out a new life for myself. And I knew a lot of that was thanks to the numbness and it would wear off one day, but I said I would deal with it as it comes.

Well it came. The last few weeks I have felt absolutely motionless. I am lost, I am heartbroken. I am not despondent like I was at first… it is not the choking grief I cried. This is softer, quieter. This just is, like an anchor in my heart, holding me to the ground.

I feel very little. I do not cry much, if at all. I do not get excited, I do not feel thankful. I just… am. Every morning I wake up, look at the ceiling and the wall, roll over, and go back to sleep. I repeat this multiple times. And it’s not my usual “I’m tired,” either. This is me opening my eyes and thinking, why bother? Why the hell should I get out of bed? So I close my eyes and escape from the thoughts for another hour or two. I usually get out of bed when I feel I really ought to… sometime around 2pm.

I just don’t care. My garden has been ignored. My video game hasn’t been opened. I haven’t read any books or designed any websites or done anything at all because I simply don’t care. It means nothing to me.

If this continues I may have to go to my doctor and request my medication level be increased. Maybe 20mg just isn’t doing it anymore. Maybe this is just temporary, something to work through. I don’t know.

::

I have always been an introvert. Which is to say, after a period of time around other people I need some alone time to recharge my batteries. All my life I have been like that… had an unspoken timer in my head that flips off after a while. Being social exhausts me, and I can only take so much.

Especially after losing Devin, I could only handle certain people in small doses – certainly no parties or crowds. It left me feeling alone and alienated, even though nothing happened to make me feel that way. I just felt so far apart from everyone.

But lately it feels that something has changed. Den has been encouraging me to go out with him, be around people, even though I don’t particularly want to. But I find that being around others perks me up just a little bit. A day at work, or with SIL and BabyH watching baseball, or poolside with friends… the time spent with others leaves me feeling a little more alive. These connections help me feel that there is more out there, that there is something worth getting up for. Even if I just hang around and listen.

I wish I knew more people locally, so I had more to do.

::

Yesterday Den and I had a nice dinner out to celebrate our third anniversary (which was actually on the 16th). After dinner we were bored (and broke) so we stopped by BIL and SIL’s house to visit for a little while. Denis holding the baby made me giggle… he looked so unsure of himself, moving slowly in a way that bespoke his fear of breaking the little girl. It doesn’t feel that way for me. Even though I really haven’t been around newborns at all in my life, it just seems right to me. Innate. Like labor, my body knows what to do.

I settled back on the couch for a while with BabyH resting on my chest. I rubbed her back as she stared at things with her developing eyes. There was peace for those moments. There was healing in my heart. I know, without a doubt, that that is what I am meant for, that is why I am here. Even though she’s not mine, to hold her in my arms felt right.

That is why I hold on. That is why I get up in the morning. One day, I have to believe, I will hold my own child in my arms. One day I won’t feel as empty as I do today.

One of the things I am currently struggling with is the fact that, in terms of TTCing, I don’t really fit in either camp.

The TTC forums – even the TTC after loss forums – are full of people excitedly charting and having sex and getting pregnant. I find it hard to read forums like that. I’m sure many of the infertiles reading this remember those forums. It makes my head hurt sometimes. I do not always feel hopeful and excited. Most of the TTC after loss people are dealing with issues regarding loss only… not infertility. I am out of place.

The infertility threads and forums, however, also don’t seem to suit me right now. I am charting, I am having sex. I am a long ways away from doing an IVF cycle. I’m not on any meds. If that were the only issue then I’d still feel okay with it, but it’s not. The thing that goes through my head is what if I DO get pregnant normally? I can’t help thinking about what a blow it would be to those women who are still cycling and doing everything they can for me to join up and get pregnant while having sex.

The problem is simply that I don’t know. I don’t know if this is going to work or if we’re in it for the long haul again. And until I do know I don’t feel right joining either group. In a year I’ll be able to look back and see clearly…. but until I actually get pregnant I’m afraid I’m just… in limbo.

I just don’t see any groups for women dealing with infertility (or possible infertility) after late-term loss. I guess there’s just not enough of us on any one forum. I feel alone. :(

::

I discovered something last night that made me freak out briefly: my boobs still leak. They don’t leak on their own, which is why I never noticed anything out of the ordinary… but when I squeeze my nipples I sure as heck see milk. So I spazzed for a while wondering what the hell was up with this.

I looked it up and apparently it’s quite normal. That’s a relief.

::

I have more I could say but I’m getting a nice headache, so I think I’m going to lay down.