Random Thoughts

The appointment with the new (temporary) doctor is this morning, and there is so much going on in my noggin that I am currently incapable of writing a coherent post. So I give you, bullet points:

• I almost pulled out my favorite cardigan to wear this morning, and then had a flash of my sad and lonely plum colored, ruffle shirt. I wore my (then) favorite ruffled shirt as well as a necklace that used to belong to my husband's grandmother when we went to have that fateful ultrasound last November. I've never worn it since. So instead of my favorite cardigan I am wearing a sweater I might not even really like. If it's bad news today and that sweater hits the Goodwill bag, I won't miss it.
• The bitchy ultrasound tech who told me we had lost our baby last year? She was pregnant. I don't know why I focus on that.
• I am wavering between paralyzing fear and some very zen moments. I have a feeling that either way I am going to need a long nap this afternoon after all that wavering.
• My very smart therapist taught me that, when I am in the grips of an extremely frightening "what if" scenario in my head, I should just walk all the way through it. As in - if I have fibroids, I probably won't even get the news today, there will be testing, there will be options, I'll have some sort of procedure to remove them, and then maybe all the muck will be gone so we can actually get pregnant. So really, most of the news the doctor can deliver today, I've already heard!
• Because of my aforementioned amazingly awful health insurance, I can't so much as look in the direction of a doctor that has anything to do with fertility (or rather, lack thereof). So I am trying to be grateful that I have something to go to a doctor for that isn't directly linked to infertility. So maybe, maybe (can you feel the zen?) this is a blessing in disguise.
• The woman who called me to remind me of my appointment yesterday had the same name as my Grandma. I am taking that as a good sign.

And with that, my crazy thoughts and I are off. Hopefully I haven't eaten all my fingernails by the time I get there.

In Which I Freak Out

So the first cycle that we're off the bench and back from the self-imposed break, of course something happens. Of course it does. I had horrible cramping and just general discomfort in addition to all the loveliness that happens at the beginning of a new cycle. But I kept thinking - okay, bring it on, this could be the start of a great cycle. And then the cramping just kept going, and going, and going. I am now on CD11 and even though the "other stuff" has stopped, I am still feeling crampy and just general pressure in the center of my lower abdomen.

Since we just moved we're staying at my parents vacation house in the middle of nowhere, and so of course I don't have a doctor here. I didn't intend to find one until we found a house and settled down in a much larger city. I had been avoiding google like the plague, because I know looking up my symptoms will do nothing but add to my panic. But a glass of wine of Friday night meant that I went for it, and of course found nothing but horribly scary stuff. The diagnosis that matched my symptoms most accurately was uterine fibroids.

My Mom is a nurse so I bring this up with her the next day, and she says "that is what I had." Now - I knew that she had a hysterectomy after having me, but I thought that was some complication from childbirth and I knew she was done having kids at that point. I didn't know it was because of fibroids and I certainly didn't know she was 32 (ugh, 32!!!!) when it happened. I'll be 31 in three months. Cue deafcon five freak out...

So I was left with the decision, does it bother me enough to find a doctor here, knowing that I will only see this person for a month or two at most? Or do I just try and convince myself I am fine, not scared to death and not in pain for the next two months so I can find one doctor when we move and stick with her? Ultimately my reasons were dumb (I will have to forward more records, etc) and after a long talk with my incredibly understanding husband, I called today to make an appointment. They can't get me in until Monday the 8th, which seems like an eternity from where I am standing.

I am also wearing the OvWatch this cycle because peeing on those ovulation sticks makes me a little nuts, and usually on CD11 I am met with the happy "Fertile Day 1" message. Today? Nothing. If anyone is looking for me, I'll be the one muttering to myself and rocking back and forth in the corner.

A Break From the Break

I alluded to this awhile ago, but now it's actually true - we've left the Midwest behind and are firmly (or really, not so firmly) planted in the Carolinas! We actually closed on our condo, packed up a UHaul, and got out of dodge...still seems completely surreal. It was insanely stressful and exhausting. So stressful, actually, that I think it was the cause of my anovulation in July and August. In the end we sold our condo twice and when the sale fell apart the first time and we had to unpack all our things without moving an inch, I...shall we say...lost my shit a little. Both my acupuncturist and my therapist told me separately that they thought we should take a little break until I got my mental state in order, which was essentially a nice way of saying "put down the thermometer and back away very, very slowly." I really wavered about what to do, as taking a break translated to the panic ridden side of my brain as "you are LOSING TIME!" But in the end, it was really a matter of distraction. There were so many logistics to figure out and so much to do, that I packed up all my baby makin' things into one bag and just toted it along with me like a sidekick. So this month will be the first that we've actually timed things and "tried" since July.

I never would have guessed I would be typing these words but, I think the break was a good idea. It gave me a little time to take a breath and think about approaching all of this in a new way. Mainly, the idea of getting pregnant as something that I allow, something that happens through me, and not something I can white knuckle and bully into existence. That has definitely been one of the most painful parts of all this for me - the idea that even if I do A, B & C, it will not necessarily equal D, no matter how hard I try. That's not to say that I won't still have my white knuckle moments (oh how I love to be in control) but admitting all the ways I was actually manipulating my life to try and wield some control over my fertility was eye opening. And that's really just the bitch of all this, isn't it? When you want something so badly you can actually feel an emptiness in your body, you will gladly do anything at all that might give you one more iota of hope.

So anyway, a little breathing room and a change of scenery and we're ready to give it another go. The plan is to try naturally until the end of the year and then we'll begin the process of finding doctors out here and navigating an absolutely painful health insurance plan. Cheers to being back in the game...

It's Not You, It's Me

There are some big changes looming in our life right now - mainly, a cross country move out East. It's something we have both wanted for quite awhile and while we're both really excited, the logistics of the move are going to be a little outrageous (to say the least). Logistics like putting our stuff into storage twice, living at my parent's lake house until we find a place of our own, etc. I mean, why do things the simple way when you can complicate the hell out of it, right?

And of course, this means that I am leaving behind my circle of doctors and ((tear)) my acupuncturist. While we're living in limbo for a few months until we settle in the city where we want to be, I am going to be sans any kind of medical professional. Part of me thinks this sounds like a little piece of heaven...I just get to live my life for a few months! And then the other part of me is currently sitting in a corner, wringing her hands and rocking back and forth, muttering about losing precious time.

As we all know, stress is cryptonite to a reproductive system. And one of the top three stressful events in life? Moving. When it looked like we were going to move in June, a move that ultimately fell apart and we had to unpack all our things without setting foot out the door (which, really, could be a means of torture better than most I've heard of) my ovulation cycle basically just shut down. So I am already preparing myself for the havoc this could wreak on our hopes of having a baby anytime soon. Because you know, why live in the present when I can thoroughly stress myself out about things that haven't even happened yet? Ugh.

All of this led to a long conversation with my acupuncturist last week, where she suggested that instead of stressing myself out more over the next few months, we just stop actively trying for a little while. And instead, I focus on making myself as healthy as possible - eating really well, exercising, etc. for no other reason that to achieve a higher level of health and to treat myself kindly. Translation: back away from the BBT chart, loony tunes.

So again, part of me thinks this sounds like freedom. Breaking up with my basal body thermometer? No peeing on sticks? No wearing watches to bed? Not hounding down our "optimal" time each month like the reproductive Sherlock Holmes? Ahhh. But here is the thing - I know myself well enough to know that the feeling of freedom will only last so long. Eventually my frightened, panicky self will take over and convince me that we're wasting time, this is crazy, and I am already looking down the barrel at 40! (I am 30)

I've already gone back and forth a hundred times and have yet to reach a conclusion about what feels "right" for me. After a long talk with my husband, who was in total agreement that I release my death grip on my thermometer, he asked if I wanted him to just go take it off my bedside table and put it "somewhere safe for the time being." My reaction? I imagine it equates to someone taking away the last fix from an addict. In my defense, he does lose things a lot...

Houston, We Have a Problem.

As of this month, we've officially been trying to have a baby for one calendar year. It most definitely hasn't been twelve consistent months (the first pregnancy and miscarriage in themselves meant four solid months of no trying) but it is a painful milestone nonetheless. And on top of this loveliest of anniversaries, I haven't ovulated since May. It seems my ovaries, after 29 years of doing their job, have picked this time in my life to take a little hiatus. An ovarian siesta, if you will.

So of course I have researched and googled and pulled out my own personal library of books that now take up an embarrassing amount of space in our house. (Speaking of the books - I wonder at what point some of us could actually be given an honorary obstetrics degree? Because seriously, I know more about this crap than I ever cared to know. I am pretty sure I could draw an outline of the basic female anatomy and give a list of the hormones involved in a reproductive cycle in five minutes flat. That has to count for something).

Anyway. The "answers" I found to my current lack of ovulation, much like the answer to the majority of fertility problems, is that it could be a lot of different things. And the best part? I haven't even missed my normal ovulation window yet. I am just not seeing the symptoms that I am gearing up to ovulate (and naturally, my friend the smiley face is alluding me once again) so I've already jumped ahead at least five days and proceeded to torture myself into tears. The answer I keep coming up with the most is that stress can lead to annovulation, which is such good news. Because not ovulating doesn't stress me out at ALL...I'll just remain calm and take a few deep breaths, and all will be well with the world. RIGHT.