Have/Have nots

There are moments of peace where I come to terms with my body, accept it's brokeness for what it is and move on.

This is not one of those moments.

I spent the last 1/2 hour on the phone pricing the progesterone I am suppose to take post IUI only to find I can't afford it. I'd like to know who dictated that only the rich or better off - the "haves" can afford to be parents? You know, if you can't manage it on your own? Who decides that Femara should be $200 and Crinone should be $244 and an IUI should be another $250 never mind the ultrasounds, and blood work and office visits.

At $25,000, I used to think adopting was expensive (it took us about 5 years to pay off that loan) but at the current rate, trying for a new biological baby can be just as bad if not worse. At least with the adoption loan, we could take a couple of years to pay, and the government chipped in a healthy chunk.

Are you listening President Obama? Congress? How 'bout it? How about giving a helping hand to those of us that are the "have nots"? Why do we have to pay such a penalty to be parents? Insurance covers things like viagra, but not fertility treatments... What's wrong with this picture? It's about a $1000 now per cycle, but that's with the "cheap" inexpensive oral drugs. Add a couple grand to that if you go up to injectibles....PER CYCLE. Crazy.

So I will not be taking the prescribed progesterone, you just can't squeeze blood out of a stone. I can't help but think of the hundreds of dollars we spent this month on "good will toward men...." providing Christmas presents for a family who has little, donating food to those with none, sending bags of new toys to shelters.... Looking back, does that buy me any good karma? I dunno. Maybe, I mean, if you had told me at the beginning of the month, you can spend the money helping others or buy the progesterone you need what would I have done? I'd still spend the money on charity. I mean that's something to feel good about, right?

But I don't feel good about that. It's hard to feel good about anything when I faced with this month after month. It all comes back to being angry that I was made this way. You ask yourself, why me? and then realize how dumb that is. I mean, it's essentially asking, why not someone else, right? And I would never wish this on someone else.

And really, the whole thing is moot anyway. We can't go on spending $200+ plus $200+ plus $200+ in an effort to get pregnant. I wonder how going without will hurt my chances. I have to just tell myself that if it's a good egg, my body will make the right amount of progesterone and just hope for the best.

I am trying to focus on the positives very badly, despite the anger that bubbles in me. I have three children, that's three more than I ever thought I'd have. I have a home and food and Christmas presents to give my family - that's more than a lot of people have. and while I pray desperately "please let this finally be the month" I have to remember there are those that can't pray openly in their country without fear of retribution - I have that freedom, many do not.

So while we aren't a "have" in the wealth department, I need to be thankful we are not a "have not" in so many other ways.

Laying blame...or taking responsibility?

Today is one my soapbox days. This is has been on my mind since I saw it.....

I recently watched a news clip about fast food chains not honoring the letter of the law. It seems San Francisco passed a law last year banning free toys from kids meals.



On the surface, it seems like a good idea, right? Let's protect our kids from lures to products that could hurt them. I mean, it's not too different from the laws they passed banning tobacco companies from using cartoon characters in their ads.

But news reporters are calling foul play as companies like McDonald's and Burger King are getting around the law by offering the toy as an add on for 10 cents. Oh my gosh, how could they? Those big bad corporate fiends!

This bothers me on a couple of different levels. Really, does McDonald's really advertise or lure kids's to their products using those toys? I mean really? Are there giant 20 foot posters outside posting the current toy? Are they blaring all over the tv sets what the current toy is? And is that really what drives kids to want their products.

I really don't think so. My kids sees the giant 20 foot golden arches and ask, "Can we go to McDonald's? Not "can we go get a happy meal toy?" In fact, in an effort to ban extra calories, extra non bio-degradable waste and to save money, I've stopped purchasing the happy meals, and order individual hamburgers (I draw the line at nuggets) and then one small order of fries is ordered to share amongst two people. Since I usually have water pouches in the car, I pay half as much and I am not throwing away useless toys in a week.

Does that deter my kids from wanting McDonald's? Absolutely not. They no I will not buy the toys now and yet still it's still a "treat" for them. (blecccckkkk!) So offering a toy for 10 cents more would do nothing to change my kids minds about wanting the stuff. I bet if they did a survey before and after that law was passes, they would find consumption didn't change. I mean, I don't know, but I would be willing to money on that bet. It's just a law in letter only.


Which leads me to my second point...why pass a useless law about toys? Why not pass a law that works with parents? How about restricting the number of calories or what type of food can be marketed to kids? Because in the end, the government, no matter how they may or may not try, cannot control what goes in our kid's bodies.

That responsibility lays solely with us parents.

Did you hear that? It lays with us. It's not the fault or responsibility of any fast food chain or restaurant. We can choose to give or not give our kids that stuff, or the "food" (I use that term loosely here) they serve at most school cafeteria's (cheese substitute anyone?) It's our choice.

Look, I'd be lying if I said I never let my kids eat that stuff, or that sometimes it just easier. Yes, and yes to both of those. Yesterday I overslept and didn't have time to pack a lunch, so I had J buy. None of us parents are perfect, we have our off days and of course life crap happens.

And that's OK. You can't shoot yourself because you let your kid have a french fry. The problem is if we let them have it once a week, or let's face it for some parents, once a day. I read an article in a parenting magazine when I was pregnant with J that said for 90% of toddlers, the number 1 vegetable they consumed was french fries. (Read another interesting article here)

Huh? (scratching head.....)



French fries aren't even a vegetable, it's really a starch. 90%?! Oh my gosh, that's insane, isn't it? I made up my mind then, that my kids would be in the 10% and I happy to report that today all three of my children are still in that same 10%.

Some people ask me how I do it. Really, you will laugh when you hear the simple answer. No, I don't grind up broccoli and hide it in brownies (oh my gosh, yes that is a real recipe by a celebrity mom and please don't get me started on that....) Here's my secret: I put it on their plates.

Yup, that's my secret. I serve them fresh vegetables and that's what's available to eat. If they choose not to eat? That's OK. After a couple of skipped meals, they get hungry and eat. No one ever starved in the presence of food. Just make sure the veggies are always available and nothing else. An old friend of mine once told me that her pediatrician said if a toddler gets one good meal in two days, they will be just fine. Just make sure they stay hydrated.

Am I saying starve your children or that I do mine? Absolutely not. I'm saying don't give them fast food and french fries, or potato chips or granola bars or mac n cheese.....whatever else they will "only eat." Look you are not doing them any favors by allowing them to eat only 3 or 4 foods. If you are being honest with yourself, it makes life easier for you. You have to be some place, you have to get them some place, it's been a long day etc etc.

But here's the thing, get them to eat all kinds of food, particularly fresh healthy food and life will actually get easier. Battles to eat go away, snacks are easy - I mean grab some apples, string cheese or handful of baby carrots and you are good to go.

You may ask yourself, but I ate this stuff as a kid and I turned out fine. Remember when I talked about food verses medication? The food we eat today is NOT the same food we ate 30 years ago. Want to pass a law? How about banning HFCS, not subsiding it's core ingredient....but I digress.

Kids are resilient...they learn to adapt to whatever is around them. Give it a try...you will see a difference, in their attitude, personalities even sleep patterns. They will have extra energy in the morning, be more alert in school after lunch and have stronger immune systems. As parents it's once of the best gifts we can give them - many many years of birthdays free from disease.

And that's just icing on the cake.

Getting through the holidays

Well, let's face it. Getting through the holidays weight intact can be a challenge. I am facing that now.

It all started with the trip to Disney of course, for the wedding. I *could* be a stinker and blame it on my sister's wedding...yep, it's all her fault. Ha ha ha She was beautiful though, wasn't she? Despite being a "saboteur" and all ...




Just joking. It's not her fault. We go once or twice a year as we own Disney Vacation Club, a very flexible kind of time share. We love it, the kids love it.....my waist line? mmm, not so much.

As many of you know, I worked hard and my goal was to get to 175 for the wedding. Despite many plateaus and hurdles, I got really close, within half a pound. I still looked chunky, but much better than if I had been 208, right?!


As I mentioned, I did not splurge anywhere near as much as I thought I would. I went fully prepared to give myself the entire week off. But my cravings and desires for the rich, sugary carbs were simply not there. I did have several indulgences, but they were not what I expected. My big splurge? All you can eat seafood buffet at the Cape May Cafe. But binging on crab legs simply does not affect you the same way cupcakes and cookies do.

But it's a dangerous time of the year to fall off the wagon, even if at the time it was just a gentle drop. We come home only to face Halloween and aisles upon aisles of Halloween candy. Add to that my spiral into depression and as I mentioned in previous posts, I ate my way through all the chocolate in the house with the delusional idea that it would numb the pain.

I did pull it together, only to be faced with Thanksgiving. We have two options every year. We either travel half way across PA where *all* of Rob's family gathers or we go to my parents. This year, with the arrival of deal SIL's darling son, I was just not up to traveling away. The ooh's and ah's over darling little M.A. would have just been too painful, too much a reminder of what I was missing and wanting. Despite missing it last year, I requested we stay local and thankfully, no pun intended, Rob did not mind. My mom is doing so badly these days, it's just as well the kids get to spend time with their grammy while they can. I can't imagine she can continue much longer in the shape she's in.

It was somewhat challenging to get through our first completely gluten free Thanksgiving. It really was not too too terribly paleo, but we did not do badly. I did figure out how to make GF stuffing with smaller amounts of GF bread and more heavy on the root vegetables and sausage. And we found GF mushroom soup at Whole Foods and made our own fried onions for the green bean casserole. We opted for mashed sweet potatoes instead of white... and I made spiced apples and my own cranberry sauce with orange peel and apples and spices. It was yummy and we ate the leftovers for days. Left over turkey? Very paleo....I loved having that much cooked meat in the house! Again, easier to get back on the wagon, as it were... Eating regular paleo meals cut the cravings at least somewhat.

I didn't, however, go near the scale. I simply lived in a world of denial. I did *NOT* want to know. Life was tough enough emotionally....i did not think I could handle one more thing in the negative side of the column these days...

That changed this week, wether I was ready or not. I've been plagued with some illnesses this last month and was finally forced to go to the dr, which unfortunately means I was forced to weigh myself. I closed my eyes, held my breath and then slowly opened them.

179.

Now, some people would be crushed at a 4 pound weight gain, I on the other hand was estatic! For me, I could go Hershey Park for the day and come home 6 pounds heavier... a vacation could easily pack on 10 - 12 pounds in a weeks time. So here I am, with 2 months of the slippery slope under my belt and I've only gained 4 pounds? Yeah, I'll take it!

Now I really have pulled it together, so perhaps I gained more and have already started losing it. Who knows, don't care. As long as I can get back to 175 and then continue my quest.

So back to the original question - How am I going to get through the holidays? By asking myself three simple questions....

First, how does it feel to be wearing the clothes I am wearing? I hate trying to find pretty holiday clothes in my closet when I am fat. Who wants to put a basic black dress on with lumps and bumps showing through? How can you enjoy a dinner *you* didn't have to cook when you can't breathe through your girdle type undergarments? Not fun. It will be nice this year, to wear my clothes so much more comfortably and better yet, no confining undergarments!

Secondly, and this worked for me last night. Rob was out and I had to put the kids to bed myself. As I am getting everyone through brushing teeth and all those night time rituals, I realized my three year old, having already been tucked in, had taken the contents of the humidifier and dumped it all over the hard wood floor, his carpet, bed, himself etc... Add to this two misbehaving older kids, and I was a crazy woman. I went right downstairs and for the hidden Christmas candy stash.

I sat down on my bed, fully prepared to eat the whole bag and a voice went off in my head.... what will this do to your insulin resistance? And when you mess up your IR so badly your body works even worse than it has been, what will that do to make you pregnant, or really prevent you from getting pregnant? The time is running out. My eggs are getting older by the second. Eating that chocolate would make me feel better for the 3 minutes it would take me to eat it. I will have added all that sugar to my already taxed body and then what? I would still feel stressed. Only now I would feel guilty and self loathing to boot. So I put it back without eating a single piece, and then went up to the kitchen to get something healthy. (I skipped dinner because I of the nausea, more on that later). You know what? Making the right choice actually made me not only feel better, but eased some of the stress I had been feeling.

well whatdoyaknow.....

Anyway, finally, I always have to keep that number one motivation right there in front, the reason I am doing all this. As I saw my mom's quickly dwindling health up front and personal last week, watched her not even be able to get through dinner without having to stop and nap, watch as my dad tears up at the thought of losing his lifetime lover and friend.... I have to ask myself. What do I want for myself, and for these beautiful kids and husband of mine?


Diabetes may be lurking in the shadows like the ghosts of Christmas future, but like Scrooge, I have choices. Death will get me in the end, but not without me kicking and fighting before I go down.

So I challenge those of you out there who are facing the same thing. You may not eat because you are stressed (and if not what planet do you come from?), you may eat because you don't want to be rude to your hostess, or simply because it's there. Maybe it's not even eating that causes your ill health, but some other behavior or choice...

Whatever it is, sit down now, before the parties start this weekend and find your motivators...Are you trying to get pregnant? be more healthy? get rid of your insulin resistance or keep your pcos in check? Or simply beat the genetics you were born with? Whatever it is, what will help you stay in control?

It's food for thought anyway.

Je suis perdu

It's the only phrase of french I really remember from my traveling corporate days of working out of Quebec. Je suis perdu. "I am lost." The last few weeks have been hard ones. I definitely spiraled out of control again. I guess I should back up a bit and explain.

Rob and I came to a tentative peace. We would continue to try to get pregnant, and he would be OK with that as long as they were NOT medicated. We could even possibly try a medicated cycle or two. But more so, I was glad to have some semblance of my marriage back. My husband and I were not just talking but I feel communicating and that was desperately needed, both for the sake of our family and my mental health.

But the reality of our decision has been sinking in and it leaves me back where I started. It was a compromise and much better than not trying to have a baby at all. I was something to grab at, something to give me hope that it was not all over, but it was a small victory. My chances of conceiving without medical intervention are slim to none. I can't imagine getting pregnant with a "thb" ...that's take home baby for you not in the TTC lingo, without assistance.

Which is more sad, that miscarriages are so prevalent for women in my condition that there's a new term for it, or that I am willing to put myself through miscarriage after miscarriage just to have a shot at that elusive, but ever so precious "thb"? Was it really a victory in any way? Or I am just putting off facing the inevitable...not facing the truth that I will never hold that baby, prolonging my pain and anguish. I dunno.

As I mentioned, I tried a soy cycle which was pretty useless. I think I had an ovulation, but you can tell it was pretty weak (yes, you can have weak ovulation which means there is no chance of successful pregnancy, but chance of miscarriage), which is typical of my non medicated cycles. I didn't even bother going in for a p4. I am avoiding the dr.'s because if they know I am trying soy, they will just confirm to me that I will never get pregnant without their intervention. I simply cannot bear to hear that, even if I know it's true. I think that's what really started to bring me down again. One more failure, one more cycle that shows me unlikely to ever get successfully pregnant.

I once again turned to food for comfort, but not just any food, gluten type food. Bread and butter, (LOTS of bread and butter), leftover halloween candy, ice cream...anything that might dull the pain if for but a few minutes. Of course when the snack is gone, the pain was still there and I just continued to snowball. I couldn't seem to control myself, I felt like a robot moving through the motions, trying to shut out any emotion I was feeling because it was just too hard.

I know I had to pull it together. Sabotaging myself just makes my chances of getting pregnant worse and also makes me a hypocrite.... and a lousy mom. I swore I would do this for my family, I would do all I could to beat off diabetes for as long as possible and not inherit my mother's failing health.... So when Rob went away for a business trip, I decided to take action. I would use the extra money I didn't spend on family dinners (kids were very content with smaller easy meals like home made chicken soup or chili) on some splurges of healthy paleo but tasty food...something to entice me back to Paleo and eating healthy again...scallops, shrimp. Things easy to prepare, good for me, and purely paleo.

It worked to a degree.... I had to still make myself stop and cook healthy meals, not just grab some leftover halloween candy. But I cleared not only the gluten from my system but even non gluten grains altogether. I had control again. I knew where I was going.

And then I got hit wham, right in the head, or maybe heart?

I didn't bother with all the crazy POAS (again, for you non TTC'ers, that's pee on a stick every day in hopes of seeing that ever elusive pink line) I knew the cycle was a bust. But that doesn't make the arrival of my monthly AF any easier....it's a constant reminder of the continued presence of absence. But even that wasn't the toughest to take...

No, this week was my MOPS meeting - Mothers of Preschoolers, an international moms group that has literally saved me from myself this past year, forcing me to not hole up and become an agoraphobic. Normally, I enjoy it immensely. I love every minute of it except the announcements of pregnancies...that's like a stab in the heart. But that's about 10 seconds worth and then it's over. I look forward to it each month and am sorry when it's over. Last year the group mostly had kids toddler age to kindergarten, with a handful of babies. But not this year,...we've had three births so far and it's only November. They are all in one group (we are divided into small groups to form closer bonds) and they all a the table right next to me this time.

If I were to be polite and look up to the speaker, I had to sit looking at a baby not 2 feet away. and another, and another. It was all I could do to keep it together and not plop down on the floor and bawl. Those sweet new babies... how I longed to hold my own. I looked at those tiny little heads with that soft down like hair, the little cries and I swear, my breasts ached like when I used to nurse. It was like my body was crying out for it's own.

I was trying my best to get through and avoid the women right next to me, but that was not to be. The "mentor mom", an older experience mom who offers her life experience to the group was entranced. She kept talking about the babies, and how everyone just loved the babies, and how everyone wanted to hold them an wasn't it just so wonderful.... I wanted to say to her "stop! just stop! I can't take much more of this!" but I couldn't be rude. She didn't know,and if I wasn't at this place in my life, I would be saying the same things. I wasn't angry, just desperate to escape.

I left in full blown melancholy and have been there ever since. I have not used food as comfort. No, I need to keep that under control. I feel bad enough as it is, I don't need self loathing for not being able to control what I put in my mouth heaped on as well. But any sadness the celexa took away albeit briefly has returned with a vengeance. I feel like a part of my heart is so broken and grief stricken, it will never heal and that scares me. There's a part of me that wants to go back to the celexa so I can just sleep through the pain. (I won't, but there is a part of me that wants to and that's really scary).

That part of me wants to stay home and avoid people forever so I can "deal" with my sadness on my own. (I use the word deal loosely as I am not dealing with it well at all) It's hard emotionally hiding it from those around me, but I have too. Why should they bear my pain? It's my problem ,something that just is and can't be helped. The other part fights with me.... be there for your kids, your family, don't miss what's right in front of you. I really blew it last week.

My youngest child turned three on Tuesday, the day I got AF. I was so caught up in my own misery I didn't remember until noon that it was his birthday when his preschool asked me if I was bringing a birthday snack that day.

Well let's heap on some more of that self loathing on, shall we?

I forgot my own child's birthday. No wonder I can't get pregnant again - I don't deserve it. I managed to save the day anyway....I picked him up from school with a car full of balloons (kismet really...on the way out to the car, N was telling me that a real birthday needs balloons...wheh, at least I *know* my kids, right?!) and made him a cake and did candles and singing that night (his family party complete with daddy and presents was actually yesterday). His face lighting up when I lit the candles brought me such joy and love for him.

That child is my lighthouse. There is something about a small body that wraps himself around you that can bring comfort like no other. I love all my children dearly and equally but there is something about N that brings me comfort like no other. But even with my lighthouse, I am still lost. And I don't know how to find my way back.

My Paleo Progress

Well, I'd like to be really definitive and say "Oh my gosh, Paleo has cured my PCOS and changed my life." Unfortunately, it either hasn't had a chance to really work yet, or it's not going to cure my PCOS.

First, let's look at the positives. To date, I have lost 34 pounds and kept it off. That's good news. I can't remember the last time I was 174 (although I am pounds away from my wedding weight). It's so nice to not have to limit myself to the two pairs of fat jeans I have. Rather, I have a closet full of clothes that fit easily and are comfortable.

I feel better. I simply do not have the aches and pains that have crept up the more into my 40's I get. It's clearly the paleo because when I cheat (i.e. shore trips, Disney World etc...) the pain comes back. To that measure when I go clean again, the pain disappears.

When I am "eating clean", food does not control me, I control it. The constant hunger associated with traditional dieting simply does not exist. I can eat until I am full and I stay full. What's more, I actually recognize that I am full and not hungry ( a big problem with insulin resistance).

I may or may not be ovulating (I need a couple of more months on non-medicated cycles to see), and ovulating at the proper time. In the past, regardless of how much clomid the RE's have prescribed, I never O'ed earlier than cd 23. That's not good really. It's harder to get *and stay* pregnant. Miscarriage rates are much higher with a late ovulation. Since going Paleo, my O date has moved from cd 23 to cd 17 to Cd 14. This month, being on a lesser dosage of soy instead of clomid ( I took 80 mg soy cd 3-7 which is the equivalent of 100 mg clomid instead of the 150 for 8 days which is what I've been taking).....I may have ovulated on cd 16 which would be amazing. I'll know my Sat if my temperature stays sustained.

All really good points in the positive column for Paleo. So what's in the negative side?

Well, I'm not pregnant. But I did appear to have a chemical pregnancy on a non-medicated cycle...kinda. The clomid really can stay in your system so it *might* have been that. But really, I've always needed a truck load to have a strong enough ovulation to conceive. That month was just left overs, yet my 7 dpo progesterone was a strong healthy 20. That's just a huge success despite a bfn in the end.

The other disappointing news was that while all bloodwork came back healthy (A1C of 5, TSH of 1.2, blood pressure, 120/80) my high triglycerides remained just that - very high at 358. This is where I go AAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!

In the past, usually when I walk regulary, it seems to control the triglycerides. Well, I've been walking, very regularly and it didn't seem to matter. Should the Paleo have nixed this? I dunno. But's it frustrating. My "good" cholesterol was 47 - I touch low, and my "bad" cholesterol was fine - around 148 I think. So the dr prescribed 4000 mg of fish oil a day and a repeat of bloodowrk in 3 months to see if it's helping.

So what do I think? I really don't know, but my gut tells me to give the Paleo longer to work. If it's one thing that *is* predictable about my body it's that it doesn't work the way it should, and a lifetime of insulin resistance has wreaked havoc with it. It was a mess when I started and the more I think of it, the more I think it was a miracle I was ever able to get pregnant successfully once, let alone twice.

I wish I could have a more definitive answer for you PCOS'ers out there searching for answers. But that is the kicker behind PCOS, isn't it, there are no clear cut answers. What it does to one of us, it does something completely different to the next gal. And what wonder drug might be a miracle for one, doesn't work at all on the next.

So the end result is, my goal to get to 160 remains and I will continue on paleo for at least 3 more months *but I suspect longer).

Hello again

Wow, had it really been a month since I've written? I guess I should really just write an update.

When last I wrote, It was the week before the wedding in Disney World and I was waiting to test from my last medicated cycle, hoping it was finally positive since I didn't know if I would have the chance to take clomid again. I knew it would be negative though because all my cervical mucous had clearly dried up (thank you clomid).

Sure enough, the hot was negative and so I was faced with a week of trying to be happy in "the happiest place on earth" knowing I had failed once again. I think I did a fairly good job of not being a "debbie downer" the whole time and being there actually did distract me a bit from the disappointment.

Until it was time to leave...

I wanted to stay longer just so as to avoid the realization that my last medicated cycle had failed and I now faced a future of not being able to get pregnant. It was depressing and sad and I decided it was time to seek help.

I had run my blood work the week before I left and had my check up the day after we got back (that's tomorrow's post where I will talk more about paleo and the results). I asked for medicinal help with my depression.

You see, I've sought counseling help in the past and the recommendation was to get on a script. I always resisted - until now. Now, I didn't want to go and dwell over the fact that I was not going to get pregnant ever again, that I wouldn't get to hold that baby I longed for...I didn't want to drag it out over the next year. I have found that while initially the counseling helped, now it just makes me sad as I rake over and analyze the sad and sorry details. I just wanted to stop feeling sad and focus on the good things I had in my life, namely my husband and kids.

But it was a huge mistake. I explained that while we weren't actively trying with fertility drugs any longer, we weren't preventing either, and I didn't want something that could potentially harm a baby. So Celexa was prescribed.

I actually sat on the filled script for two days before actually starting. I still wasn't sure I wanted to try medication. There is no stigma these days for taking medication for depression, and it's proven very helpful for many many people. Still, I didn't want that for myself.

Also, I had doubts. In the past, I knew I was sad but didn't have a reason for it. When Rob would ask me "Why are you sad?" I couldn't give him a reason. But that's not the case now, I know why I am sad. I am sad because I want to be pregnant so very badly and it's not going to happen. And I just know that if I *were* able to get pregnant with a take home baby, all that sadness would go away. It sounds crazy I know.

So was that really reason to take Celexa? And would it even work since the depression was less chemical and more "situational" as it were.

But I did take it and just 4 days later I was a zombie. No, I was worse than a zombie as I was able to do nothing. I had to cancel all plans out because I couldn't stay awake long enough to do anything. I walked out the bus stop and made the barest minimum of meals for the kids. I couldn't drive to gymnastics or karate....even if I could stay awake, I was dizzy enough that it wouldn't have been safe. My youngest spent the days in front of the television with me napping on the couch. And after sleeping all day, I still couldn't wait to go to bed that night. By the 5th day, I was sleeping 20 out of 24 hours.

Clearly I stopped and I am not completely gun shy to try anything new.

So now I am left in limbo kind of. Rob and I, while I still think we have work to do, have come a long way these past 4 weeks and are communication so much better. We may try one or two more clomid cycles (not back to back though) and he's agreed he's OK with me taking natural remedies like soy (you can take soy like you would clomid, not every day...every day is actually bad for fertility).

So on one hand, I am dealing with the sadness that I have so very little hope of getting pregnant now. Without clomid AND an IUI (because of the mucous issues) I just don't see it happening... But it's that tiny little 1 or 2% chance that I can't let go of. I can't pass on my maternity clothes, I can't pass on my baby gear, and I can't let go of the clothes Noah is continually growing out of. But looking at it all over the house is also a constant reminder.

Yup that's me...stuck right in between that rock and hard place.....again.

So that's where I am emotionally. Tomorrow I will catch you up on my physical state....bloodwork,my weight, the pcos and of course, my paleo journey (especially while in Disney World).

The continuous presence of absence

So I am trying to cope with the idea that my quest to have a child is over. I *did* speak to my husband, and have come to a better place in our marriage. And I also learned a little more about what was really in his heart. This brought me great peace and the ability to forgive. I realized that I needed to forgive him, as much or more for me, than for our marriage. I need him in my life. He is my anchor in life, my guiding star. Despite all he has done, I consider myself damn lucky to have him as my life's partner.

But really, in the grand scheme of things, it changes little. He still does not want to try anymore and I must deal with that decision. Not just agree to it, but *accept* it.

I don't know how to do that.

I was thinking earlier today when I commented about adoption to someone else's blog. Wanting another child is like deciding to adopt. When you're ready for adoption, you just know. You can't explain why it's right for you or even why you decided to go that route. With my daughter, I just instantly knew in what seemed like a moment (while were were knee deep in our second round of fertility treatments). It was like a switch went off for me. It was just something I felt was right, meant to be even.

That's how I feel about having another child. I *just know* it's meant to be, that's it right. But life does not work that way. God does not always answer prayers in the way we want Him to. While it's right for me, my husband doesn't agree, and so I must get on with things.

I don't know how to do that. And I don't want to do that. But the choice is not mine.

So I started poking around the internet. I am certain I am not alone in this predicament I find myself in. Most searches were unhelpful as failure to conceive topics almost always led to adoption. That's not in the cards for us, nor do I want it again.

But then I stumbled on this, and I wanted to shout "Yes!" Someone finally put into words what I was feeling. From the Yeah, write! blog:

I learned that infertility can be grouped in with miscarraige and even the loss birthmoms feel in something called "disenfranchised grief" or "ambiguous loss" or "the continuous presence of an absence." That last phrase was from Anna Quindlen, and it's the perfect description. You're not mourning for a loved one you had grown to love over years and years. You're mourning the loss of the dream you had of someone. And it's still real grief, although it's not publicly acknowledged or widely understood.

So I am not alone. Or crazy. It's real grief, even if no one understands it. But what's scary is that word "continuous." Already when I look at my children I feel like someone is missing. Will I always feel this? Will I ever just get over this? It's going to be an uphill battle, because at the root of everything is, I don't want to get over it. I want my way, I want my dream.

I recently wrote about life being full of dreams for a wedding toast I will give next week. It was bittersweet because I remember that time of innocence in my life, when I believed all you wanted in life was possible, I believed in dreams. I didn't know then how life was sometimes unfair.

But nobody said life was fair, did they?

How?

I'm not sure what to write about. I have so many feelings that I have been holding in for months, but not sure I want them out there in cyber space. I don't even advertise this blog to "friends' , because as usual, I close myself off from people I know. I guess, I've had enough "friends" let me down over the years, I am just not up to going through the same again. My faith in girlfriends is gone.

I know a lot of what I am about to write is completely irrational. I know this. But I need to start working this out, and I need to tackle these things in my mind one by one.

I am going to break a promise to my husband. When I asked him to stop reading my blog, I promised I wouldn't talk about him. But everything I am feeling all relates 100% back to him. Like I said in previous posts, the more I bottle the emotions, the more they seem to multiply and boil over to the surface. I am not sure if I will hit publish, but I at least need to express some of what I am feeling. I feel like it's so awful, I can't admit it to anyone. I am afraid of what my husband would think of me if he knew what I was really feeling. Would he hate me? leave me? Resent me even more? *shudders*

My greatest fear has come to pass. My husband does not want to continue trying to have another child and I am devastated. I feel like all the hope and joy I had in life has been sucked right out of me, and I feel like I'm in a panic, like I don't know what to do next. The denial of "this can't be happening" has got it's hold and I feel desperate. But just like when you suffer any loss, there is nothing you can do. You just have to let it happen to you, and fight off the helplessness as best you can.

I am so angry at him. For months, ever since my last loss, he has been stringing me along, giving my false hope. Maybe not intentionally, but it's true none the less. Right after the loss, I felt totally abandoned by him. On paper, I blame it on the gluten issues he was having, and how they caused his brain fog as he put it. But in my heart I know. What I was feeling wasn't important enough to him. I cried myself to sleep night after night while he avoided me, watching television in the family room. I remembered being amazed at how uninvolved he was, when my world was falling apart. I felt like I was living with a stranger. I needed him to mourn the loss, to understand my pain, to show me he was there for me. But I knew deep in my heart, if I was honest, that he was relieved, and that mades me even more angry. Hpw could he be relieved when I was in such agony? I feel like if I were important to him, he would care just because it was important to me. I am beginning to feel that what I want in life is really only important to me, and therefore important to no one. They might was well not exist.

Since the miscarriage, he has flip flopped back and forth sending me complete mixed signals. He agrees to TTC, then changes his mind, then agrees again. I feel like I've been mourning for years instead of months. Each month would bring a new hope and then, a new let down - I'd have to start the grieving all over again. But not completely because I wasn't pregnant. But because I felt abandoned all over again, left in out in the wind to dry as it were. Then we would be back to trying and I'd have hope again...until the next time I was ovulating... then the cycle (no pun intended) would start all over again. I (very slowly unfortunately) learned not to say anything at all about my cycles, or he would completely shut down and avoid me more, sometimes for a day or two.

He doesn't seem to understand that I am no longer grieving the miscarriage, I am grieving/not grieving/grieving/not grieving not being able to try for that 4th one. It's like any progress I make is completely undone every time he changes his mind. My nerves and emotions are so raw and on edge now, I feel on the verge of break down. And I am on my own. I have felt so alone now, for so many months, that I am actually wondering about my future. Will it get worse? Once the kids are grown and gone, am I destined to live my life this way, alone with my own thoughts?

I know in my head that this is irrational thinking. My husband loves me and I love him. In fact, this morning in a women's discussion group I took part in, I heard several women complain about their husbands and their short comings, and amazingly, having to spend time with them, when they'd rather have alone time or time to do chores that need to get done. I thought to myself, are you people nuts? I can't wait til my husband comes home, and I love just being with him. I can't imagine ever not wanting to be around my husband, or being frustrated with him for wanting to spend time as a family. I felt sorry for those women.

But my heart feels something different. I used to feel rock solid in my marriage and my place in this lovely little family. There is now that doubt as to what I think he feels for me. Maybe we aren't rock strong like we used to be. Our marriage has changed. Month after month, I took that awful medication. I've punished myself in so many ways, and he let me. And when the crucial time of the month came up, something else would too. A cold, or a sore back...or whatever.

The fury I felt at those moments...and the hurt. I was sacrificing every thing, putting myself through hell and he let me. He let me. How could he let me go through with all this when he had no intention of holding up his end of the bargain? He not only let me down, teased me with a dream I could never have, he let me go through all that for nothing, made me beg. Instead of letting the wound heal, it's been like ripping out your stitches and resewing them over and over again. For months. How can I *not* question my value to him?

My sister is getting married in a couple of weeks and I am so jealous I could spit. I look at her and the innocence of her fledging little marriage-to-be. I want to go back to that place in our relationship where I felt like my husband adored me, like he would never hurt me, when he loved being with me. I know I adore him, and would do anything for him. But more and more I am feeling like I am just a burden to him. My role in his life is no longer lover and best friend, but rather, mother to his children,

Man that hurts.

I've been holding back on this question in my mind because I didn't want to deal with the truth behind it. But I knew, eventually, it would all boil down to this; would *he* will resent me for wanting to have that 4th child or would *I* resent him for taking it away from me?

Talk about a rock and a hard place...

So it ends with I resent him, AND he probably resents me....and the death of my dream, and a limping marriage. There it is, the truth I have been tucking away and tucking away trying to avoid. I always said I didn't want to look back and have regrets, but that is what I have now. I had at least three more opportunities to try before it was time to give up and accept God's will. There was a part of me that I really thought one of these cycles would work. Now, I will always look back and wonder, what if? or maybe if only...

I resent him because he doesn't love me enough to do this for me. And it shakes me to my core. My security is this world is now gone. It's not just losing this unborn child, it's knowing that once again, I am alone in this world, just like when I was single.

I know, I know, it's irrational. He can't help what he feels, if he doesn't want another child, he doesn't. He can't help feeling what he feels anymore than I can help how I feel. I am no better than he. He's angry at me for feeling all this, for not letting go, but I am just as angry at him for his lack of compassion, or what I am perceiving of his lack of regard for how I feel.

So now I am faced with two dilemmas....first I have to figure out how to let go of wanting this other child (if you are a praying person, please please please pray that God takes this desire from me) and then I have to figure out how to forgive my husband for hurting me.

I do love him, and I want to have a long long life with him. I want to fix our marriage. I don't want to live with bitterness and resentment. I have to figure out how to get from point A to point B though and I honestly don't have a clue on how to do that. Right now, I am in such pain, all I can focus on is putting one foot in front of the other. I don't want to talk to anyone, I don't want to go out, I don't want to talk to anyone who knows we were trying because I don't want to have to tell them it's over. I don't even want to hear the words come out of my mouth. I just want to escape someplace where I don't have to feel this and I can avoid all semblance of this place where I have found myself.

But that's not how it works is it?

The only way through grief and pain is through it. I am holding onto it with such a death grip because if I let go, then my dream is really over. How does one actually let go of such a precious dream? I honest to God don't want to let go, - it just hurts like hell.

As for the other question, it just so happens that my husband will not be home for the next 4 nights so I have plenty of "alone time." to think about it how I can forgive him. Can I just will it to happen? I am afraid my inclination is to just stuff down everything I am feeling and just provide for my family.

Like I said, I'm a slow learner sometimes.

Turning the corner

So I am making baby steps, and this is good.

Yesterday, was a huge relief for me. I felt like sending off the letter lifted a weight that has been on my shoulders for months. As the day went on, I felt better and better. more optimistic than I have been in a long time.

I immediately tried to think more positively about my well being. I thought more about what I wrote yesterday, that being happy is not a betrayal. I need to embrace that sentiment. Part of that is taking care of myself, both physically and mentally.

Physically, I am trying to eat better. I don't mean more clean, I've been staying paleo....when I did actually eat. I just had been slowing reducing my food intake lower and lower. Not healthy physically or emotionally, and one of the ways I realized I had been punishing myself. It's one of the things I set out to fix in my "moving on" process.

I did well with breakfast and lunch, allowing myself to eat healthy portions, and not cutting it short. But my mind went several times to just skipping dinner, to do without.

It's ironic really. One of our big things in parent discipline is to not use food any any way - no lollypops to stop crying, no mm's to go "in the potty" instead of the diaper, no treats for good behavior. Food should not be a part of our emotional well being. I didn't want my kids falling into the same trap as I.

So how did I go from being an emotional eater to NOT eating? It took conscious effort, but despite needing to be two places last night, I made myself stop, sit down and at least eat with my family. It was a small meal, probably not as much as it should have been, but I didn't skip. And that's a good start.

Mentally, I have as much work to do, but am taking some good steps there as well. I talked about the way I looked, and how I let it beat me down. No more. I need to be proud of the weight I lost and the process I am making toward my goal weight. Both last night and this morning, I received some kind compliments about the way I look. For awhile now, I've been blowing off these comments or poo-pooing them.... I didn't this time. I forced myself to stop, smile and try to really appreciate the sentiment behind it. It's OK to be happy I have a flatter stomach. It's not a betrayal.

It all started with a decision. For me, it was enough. But I know in years past that I could not shake the depression that settled on me from time to time. I think it was easier this time because I knew what was causing my depression. I had reason to be sad. But I know there are women out there who don't know why they are depressed, and that can be very confusing and scary.

If you are in one of those spots where you know you're depressed, but you don't know why, please know you are not alone. There us help out there. Please do not be afraid to seek medical help or counseling.

You don't have to feel like this. Sometimes, all it takes is just one little step to turn the corner.

moving on

Yesterday was a hard day for me. I struggled with my emotions most of the day, and yesterday only posted a fraction of what I've actually been feeling and thinking.

I've been willing myself to move on. My favorites lists on my iPhone includes that song by Rascal flats, and I play it over and over again, like a mantra, telling myself "you can do this, it's time to move on". But I resist.

Why? Who in their right mind wants to wallow in self pity? It's hard to let go of the pain, the mourning, the grief. After awhile, it becomes a part of who you are, and that much harder to shed. But really, the biggest obstacle of letting go is simple; if I move on, let go of that emotion, then no one will be there to remember the little child that wasn't. As a mother, how can I do that? How can I justify being happy when these horrible things happened?

I've dealt with my ghosts and I've faced all my demons
Finally content with a past I regret
I've found you find strength in your moments of weakness
For once I'm at peace with myself
I've been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long
I'm movin' on

That second line scares me. I don't *want* to be content with a past I regret. I have too much of that in my life. In my 30's, I learned to forgive myself for the mistakes I had made. I don't want to go back there. But that's what I'm doing isn't it? I'm not moving forward. It's a double edged sword. If I stay in this stagnant place, I regret the life that was never meant to be. But the thing is, if I don't let go and move forward, I'll still have regrets anyway, won't it?

I'm movin' on
At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me
And I know there's no guarantees, but I'm not alone
There comes a time in everyone's life
When all you can see are the years passing by
And I have made up my mind that those days are gone

If I trap myself in the here and now, "burdened with the blame" I heap on myself, I will miss the life that my family continues to live. Life will not be patiently waiting, it will indeed, pass me by. My children are oblivious to all that happened, all that I am feeling. They are living their lives, going to gymnastics, playing out side at recess, playing on Wii, building legos.... life continually moves forward for them, and if I stay here, I will miss it.

I sold what I could and packed what I couldn't
Stopped to fill up on my way out of town
I've loved like I should but lived like I shouldn't
I had to lose everything to find out
Maybe forgiveness will find me somewhere down this road
I'm movin' on

I love all my kids, those born and unborn, but I can't let that love become a barrier. I need to let go of those that are already with their Heavenly Father, and live for those that still need me here on earth. And I need to remember to live for me too, teach myself that I am not to blame, and yes, I deserve to be happy. I need to learn and accept, that being happy is not a betrayal to those unborn children.

I've always been of the belief that when faced with an obstacle, if you throw your head over the wall, the neck and body have no choice but to follow. I spent the better part of last night awake and thinking. I do not want to be this person anymore. I want to heal my heart, forgive myself or better yet, not blame myself for something I can't control. It's time to pack up this old baggage and let it go....It's time to move on.

So I'm sending out a little love letter into the heavens to those children I've lost:

dear little ones,

I love you more than you could possibly know. But you are in the presence of the Alpha and Omega, your Heavenly Father and He will care for you until I come to join you. But for right now, your brothers and sister and daddy need me. I need to stay here for them, but I will love you just the same. I have to say goodbye now, but I will always carry your memories locked in my heart. You will always be with me. I look forward to the day when I can finally hold you in my arms.

love, mommy

Food relationships

One of the side effects if you will, of changing to a Paleo lifestyle is that it changed my relationship with food. I mentioned weeks back that I was (successfully) battling my tendency to be an emotional eater. I guess that's to be expected, but did it all change for the better?

I recently read a blog (that I read often) about a women who faces steeper infertility challenges than I do; she is unable to conceive at all and has no children. She is a powerful writer and expresses herself so well, I often feel like she is writing what is in my heart. I found that when I read her thoughts, I feel less alone in the world for a few minutes.

Recently she wrote about "the sugar coating" we women put on things. You know how it goes, people ask us how we are and we say "fine" instead of really telling them how we are. This happened to me just yesterday. Someone asked me how the fertility treatments were going, a woman who has been there done that herself and would be totally sympathetic. What do I do? Tell her how I'm really feeling? Nope. I give a flippant remark, plaster a smile on my face and quickly change the subject.

The blogger commented that this practice comes back to bite us in the derriere and often "big time." Underneath that sugar coating is often not pretty, festering and toxic. I am coming to realize she is not only an amazing writer but also very wise.

I'm down to 177 - the lowest weight I have been in 10 years. People are starting to comment...you've lost weight, you look good, you look pretty today. How do these compliments make me feel? Like crap....total and utter garbage.

Bottling up all my emotions and grief has come back to bite me. I realized, I am punishing myself for losing the babies and not being able to "get over" all this. I realized that the flatter my stomach gets, the more grief and emotion I feel because I should be large and round right now, getting ready to deliver my child in the weeks to come.

Yet I feel I am trapped. I thought if I could push down the grief and bury it, I could control it somehow. I don't feel there is anyone in my life who could understand me... I have three children, this happens all the time and people recover. Why can't I? There is something wrong with me and I just need to move on...

But the more I bottle it, the more it seems to snowball and grow. Saturday I had to go to my SIL's baby shower. It was the epitome of bitter sweet. I remembered how I felt when I found out she was pregnant. What fun! To be pregnant with your sIL, right? I looked forward to sharing belly shots, clothes and advice to this first time mom. I didn't have that and loved the idea of helping someone else. I also looked forward to sharing a bond with someone. AS much as I wanted it, I was never close to my immediate family.

After I lost the baby, that all changed. She became a physical and tangible reminder of what I had lost. Every time I saw her, I would look at my shrinking stomach and compare it to her growing one. And when her child grows, I will see how old my child would have been.

But the thing is, she's not an acquaintance or colleague, she's family, and so I had to find a way to deal. So I bottled things down more deeply and got to work on making baby quilts and blankets and a scrapbook. With every page, every cut, every stitch, I thought of my baby and it tore my heart out. It's the best quality quilt I have ever made, using an entire spool of thread for the quilting alone. But it was painful for me.

I think I thought that maybe I could make up somehow, apologize for the way I've been feeling. It's not that I don't want her to be unhappy or not pregnant....and I truly believe each mom should have some heirloom quality special mementos for their baby, especially their first. So I really did want her to have those things, and they are exactly what I would have made even if I had never been pregnant. But a part of me wonders if somehow I thought making those items would heal a part of me, let me forgive myself for how I was feeling yadda yadda yadda..... talk about sugar coating over the whole mess.

It didn't.

That morning before the shower, I woke with dread and was physically ill. The tears came which I quickly washed away. I realized that throughout the morning, my hands would shake on and off. I would start to feel my heart race and the panic set into my chest. I haven't had to deal with panic attacks in years, but it was amazing how quickly it came upon me. I forgot about the roaring in my head that accompanies these attacks. I pulled it together, and once at the shower, I 'm happy to say I did very well. For my SIL's sake, no, let's be honest, I didn't want my husband to be even madder at me that he already is, so for his sake, I held my control and did the best I could. I often escaped to "check on the kids" which helped a lot. I only cried once. OK twice, but the second one doesn't really count.

So as not to paint myself as a total monster, please understand. I love and care about my SIL, I would never want to hurt her. But my emotions are so full to flood stage level, I am finding I can no longer control them. I keep putting up sandbags, and they keep leaking through and under and over that wall. And my husband is not a monster either, it's just that all this fertility stuff makes him crazy. He doesn't want to talk about it, or hear about it. I love him, but there's this wall up between us in this issue and trying to take it down, just drives a wedge between us, so I have (finally) learned to keep my mouth shut.

Finally, I worked up the courage and was able to talk with C and made the offer that had been stuck in my throat for the last 7 months - to call me any time day or night if she needed help, breast-feeding advice etc. It was the right thing to do, and the one time on that awful day that I was actually, if just for a moment, proud of myself.

But I am not.

I am still here, stuck in this spot hating the way I look. I no longer brag about my weight loss, I no longer care that my clothes are starting to fall off a bit. In some facade of normalcy, I do tell my husband because he is so into this (paleo, nutrition, weight loss etc) But food has no flavor or joy, I eat enough to maintain my health, and drink lots of tea to settle my constantly moving stomach. I am still losing. It's becoming a struggle to remember I am important to my family, and I have value if only for that.

Crazy, isn't it? because I can't have another child? And what happens if we do get that miracle and this all goes away like it did when I had Josh? Just makes me sound even more crazy, doesn't it? Hence me not talking to anyone about it,

I don't have a happy ending to the story. Not yet anyway. I made the mistake of helping pack up the gifts at the end of the shower. Touching those soft clothes and miniature booties and such...big mistake. When I close my eyes to go to sleep at night, I see that perfect white infant gown, can feel it against my skin. I hate when night comes and I must try to sleep. My dreams are also coming back to "bite me" as city girl says.

I don't know what I am going to do yet, other than start to be truly honest in the blog and pour my heart out here. I didn't want this to be a whiny depressing place - I wanted it to be helpful to other ladies like myself. But maybe I need to help myself first so I can be a help to other, if just for a short while. Maybe once I am honest and start to scrape off that sugar coating, and expose the ugly wounds underneath, that will be the flood gate I will need to heal, and let the tide regress.

City girl talks about her lighthouse...when she is at her lowest, she has this lighthouse - adoption. When I first read that, I thought, but I don't have a lighthouse...I probably won't get pregnant successfully. But then it dawned on me - my lighthouse is my family...Rob, the kids...they are my light. They will guide me home.

I dunno, but I am hopeful - how can I not be when I look in my children's faces? They need me - I have a family to take care of and I like all good moms, i will find a way to pull it together.

Medication...or food?

I'm not sure what's more amazing to me; the amount of medication prescribed and taken to millions of Americans today, or that at one time I thought that was normal.

I was raised in a home where if you were sick, you went to the dr and if need be, got your medicine. I remember that awful cough syrup with that nasty taste that would make me gag and shiver... Um, no thanks. I hated that stuff so much that even as an adult, I will suffer through the coughing rather than take that bit of nastiness...There isn't enough sugar gonna make that one go down!

Still, we are a "drugs will fix it all society." The interest in this topic was sparked by two things.... a story on a 16 year getting gastric bypass surgery, and me back to taking my fertility drugs again. The child's surgery is a whole other post, but I'd like to talk about my medication. This time, they are truly making me miserable. I am sick to my stomach all the time now to the point where the thought of eating anything makes me sick. All I want is calming tea (decaf of course!). I even woke up this morning with my stomach rolling, just as it is now. And the migraine like headaches that accompany them make it hard for me to function during the day sometimes, and to fall asleep at night. The pain is blinding. (I'm really grateful they tend to come at night though, so I can still take care of my kids).

But I really don't have a choice. I've got a couple months left til I turn 43 at which point I think my TTC journey will be over forever. I need to ovulate every month I possible can to get the most chances. Soon, medication will be a thing of the past.

But do people realize they do have a choice? We've all heard about the obesity epidemic and the correlation to diabetes. But many don't realize that Type II diabetes is reversible in many many cases. One just has to choose to make the changes in their lives. I hear on the news, and news shows all the time about the record number of people taking statin drugs, those cholesterol lowering "wonders". I can't speak intelligently yet about long term, do they really help (I think no), but the question that needs asking is, why so many people now need it?

The quote I hear around Paleo all the time is "let thy food be thy medicine." I just wonder over and over why more people don't think about that....the correlation between what (processed) food we are putting in our mouthes, and the over all increase in major health problems we see today.

Food has changed. With my kid's allergies, I spend A LOT of time reading labels. It's amazing what you will find in what. I ask myself at the store, why add artificial colors to fruit? Why is there a need for wheat in beef broth, and why is there sugar in everything?

My mom says to me, "you ate this stuff as a kid, and you grew up fine, what's the big deal?" The thing is, the food our kids eating today is NOT the same food I ate as a kid. HFCS (high fructose corn syrup) was invented in the late 60's and made it's way into the mainstream food market by the mid 80's. And it made it's way into everything.

I've said it before, we may spend a little more now on food, but we will save in the end in healthcare costs...and something that can't be measured in dollars: my family's good health. I watched my children get their wellness exams as few weeks ago. As the nurse took their blood pressure, I thought about all the young kids today that are now starting to show signs of hypertension.

I mean kids? with high blood pressure? I mean, come on!

It was both a reminder and reward, seeing their quick exams that pronounced them healthy, that I am making the right choices for my family. While we spend a lot on food today, I am hoping that means we won't be spending $800 a month of medications needed later.

The changes you can make might be daunting at first, but you don't have to do it all at once. I started by taking out just foods with preservatives after learning it caused my then 3 year old, now almost 8, to get hives. We ruled out all the other ingredients until it came down to just the non"food" in the food. So anything with preservatives was out.

After that, high fructose corn syrup was the next to go.That's kind of a no brainer, right? Who needs all that extra sugar. Once I realized it was in everything (from reading all those labels) It was clear it had to go too.

Finally, artificial flavors and colors were the last to go. This was a test of sorts, to see if it helped with my children's hyperactivity. J didn't have adhd, (the school insisted on testing him) but yet was still way too active during times he needed to be still, like school. So we tried taking out the colors and what a difference. He is a different child now, and much more successful in school.

Don't think you have to shop at those expensive "natural" markets. Rob and I call them hippie-granola types. Ironically, I think my parents call me a hippy granola type, but I digress. Anyway, You'd be surprised at how many brand names you can find right on your supermarket shelf that are all natural. Some of our favorites"

Bullseye barbecue sauce - they use molasses instead of HFCS
Smucker's Natural peanut butter with honey - you stir it at the beginning, then can just leave in your pantry. No need to refrigerate which I love
Degrosso pasta sauces and pizza sauce - again, no HFCS, but rather they use sugar (and it's way down on the ingredient list

Just take some time the next time you shop. Pick up two bottles of catsup. Which starts with HFC and which starts with, say, I dunno....tomatoes?

Let they food be thy medication.

PS - never stop taking medication without making a plan with a healthcare professional first. You can do it, but do it safely.

Bittersweet

Well, there's no other way to say this. I got pregnant, but it was bittersweet. I say was because I am no longer pregnant.

*sigh*

That's not how this was suppose to work, was it? The idea was to get pregnant and stay that way. The mixed emotions are just a whole lot of crazy ups and downs, and not a just a little hard to sort through.

I mean, I did not take fertility drugs this cycle (major downer), yet I had a strong ovulation (measured with bloodwork - major hooray moment). Then, a fertilized egg with implantation long enough to create enough HCG (another major hooray moment) to make a stick turn pink when I peed on it. The fact that it didn't stick shouldn't bother me, right? (yeah right...another downer).

Theoretically, this is good news and an answer to my questions...Or was it? I think it lead me to new questions rather than some answers. Was it the leftover clomid in my system the RE said might make me ovulate this month anyway? Was it the almost 30 pounds that I have lost? Or was it the paleo?

There is simple way, again theoretically to find out, isn't there? I can *not* take clomid this month and see if it happens again. But I'm not sure if I have the faith or courage to find out...or the strength.

Faith...while it seems like I have been on Paleo forever (that Sept 1 deadline has come and passed, hasn't it?) the fact of the matter is, I still haven't yet been on it 3 months yet. I know every Paleo blog out there is so very gung ho, but I am not that person. Yes, I believe I am healthier and slimmer and have much MUCH less inflammation in my body...no, I have no evidence yet (running bloodwork this month) that it will help my insulin resistance, PCOS and/or annovulatory cycles.

Courage - I've said it before...all the protein and veggies in the world can't help old eggs. Nothing can change that I am 42 and I will - when I do manage to ovulate - put out as many or more "bad" eggs as good. Bad eggs = miscarriages or chemical pregnancies, good eggs fertilized means a shot at a "sticky bean. " And every single month I get older, my odds get worse. Do I want to risk a precious month to experiment? No, I really don't. When I've exhausted all resources I feel like is the time to experiment.

Strength - I was kinda down all weekend. What did this chemical mean? I didn't have the same sense of loss as with a normal miscarriage. Rather, what really bothered me was the idea that I had "two losses" in 7 months, that has to be bad right? But I was online on a TTC in our forties board, and asked them what they thought...What was this pointing to, that it was all over? WasI really too old? On the contrary. Everyone there, who had a lot more experience with TTC in their 40's than I, thought it was really a positive sign...more that I just had to wait for that good egg.

Uh uh - does that mean I might have another chemical? Am I strong enough for that? You would think that would freak me out, but no. Instead of making me feel worse, it made me feel better. I felt encouraged, and for some reason, normal. I did not wake up sad this morning, and felt re-focused on what I had to do: take care of my family, and leave all this other stuff on the back burner....

So tomorrow is my cd 3 baseline scan. They may have me take clomid, they may have me sit it out again. Who knows. But what I am going to focus on is the positives...that I have a couple more weeks to take some more weight off (I really want to be down to 175 before the Disney wedding trip), getting back into the swing of school starting (kid 1 and 2 went off today, kid 3 starts preschool Thursday) and getting ready to enjoy a fun week in Disney. I am so looking forward to the gluten free bakery in Downtown Disney again, and the seafood buffet we are going to try at Cape May Cafe...I've been wanting to try that for years!

Oh yes, and of course my sister's wedding! LOL Yes, I finally have a bridesmaid dress I look halfway decent in, and I am thin enough now to wear it!

It Budged!

Hooray! the scale has budged! After a month of plateau, the scale seems to have finally moved. I am into the 170's and it's not a fluke. It's been like this for a week, so I will take it as a good number.

I can't begin to tell you how relieved I am. It also was yet another lesson for me. For years, I yo-yo'ed between 185 - 195. I would get motivated, slowly lose weight...and never really make it lower than 185 or so. I was at a nice healthy weight for my height and bone structure at my wedding: 165. I felt good and my clothes fit. I was happy there. It was nice there. I want to go back there!!!

But platueas can get to the best of intentions. I have probably made my husband crazy with my crankiness and frustration with the scale., And no, I was not "building muscle" instead...All my measurements have pretty much halted too. And it was beating me down.

I wrote last of being strong. This challenge was another test of my strength. Was I going to give up, or keep fighting? I very nearly gave up. Whenever the kids requested pizza for lunch, it would tempt me. When they ask for dessert at night, it tempts me. But there comes a time in life when you must make a choice and hold yourself accountable. Yes, for some it can be really hard, but in the end, it all comes down to making a choice. "I couldn't help it" is just an excuse.

The weight is coming off at a snail's pace...roughly about 4 pounds a month or so. I will continue to be tested (insert my grumpy face here) But also, it can be an opportunity. One where I can look in the mirror, be proud of what I see, and find peace with myself. I am creating a healthy life for me and my family.

That's worth the challenge, isn't it?

By the way, I think the problem ultimately is I wasn't eating enough. Paleo makes you much less hungry...there are no sugar or carb cravings, and meals keep you pretty full. I often have to force myself to eat something at meal times. I am trying harder to hit my calorie count of about 1500 calories a day. Often times, I only hit 1000, but I am working on it.

Strong

I've always been told I was strong.

Throughout my life, I've had to deal with a lot of issues that require strength so I suppose it's true, but a part of me always found a way to negate it. I was the younger of two kids most of my childhood, my older brother being retarded. Not the "Oh my gosh he is such a re-tard" kind retarded, but the he was born premature being the sole survivor of a set of twins retarded. I learned early on that kids teased kids like my brother and that I had to protect him. It wasn't something I thought about a lot, it was just was I was suppose to do. I never thought of it as being strong or noble...for me, it was part of the norm.

When I was 12 I was shocked to learned my mother was going to have a baby. My whole life I had begged for an older sister - hey, I was a *kid*...how was I suppose to know how it really worked?!. I was thrilled, until that faithful morning when my grandfather woke me up to take a call from my parents who had gone to the hospital in the middle of the night. I was breathless as I asked my dad "Is it a boy or a girl?" I had so wanted a sister! I was then shocked again at the quiet weeping I heard at the other end. And then I knew. Melissa had died.

I don't see myself as strong because all I really remember from that time is my desperate sobbing down the isle of that long church as they carried that little white coffin. I remembered thinking, I should be strong for my mom - she's the one that need comforting. But I was over come, I wasn't strong. And I couldn't let go of the three white roses I couldn't drop on her little white coffin. I held onto those roses for years until one day, I drove to the cemetery and finally left her roses by her grave. To this day, white roses make me think of my sister and who she might have been.

Fast forward to H.S. I've made no secret that my mother was always ill. For me, H.S. was all about wondering when the next ambulance would pull up to the house for my mom. I remember once waking to the commotion - my mom was delirious, throwing up all over herself and incredibly week. (In addition to diabetes, my mother had developed Chrohn's disease - this was before the heart issues and RA) i remember my dad shouting "take your mother while I call 911!" No sooner did he leave than over she went. I had no choice but to catch her, then try and clean the vomit off her before the paramedics arrive. I mean, what else was I supposed to do? I stayed with the baby (yes, my mom was able to go on and have another when I was almost 14) and take care of my big brother.

That became the norm. I remember often getting up in the night to change diapers when my parents didn't hear A. crying. I would cook what simple meals I could, and take care of the house during my mom's "episodes." By the time I was 16, I had a steady boyfriend that was sweet enough to take me on dates....with my 4 year sister tagging along. He's still one of the best people I know, and one of my biggest advocate that I was strong. I always told him he was crazy. I was just doing what needed doing. Really, I didn't have a choice.

In college, life presented more challenges. My parents paid the first year and half, and then I was on my own. I worked many jobs to pay my rent, food, tuition and books. I taught after school private lessons, worked retail, worked in the school admissions office...Anything I could find that was paying, and took out student loans. I remember times when I was hungry and I did without. But I knew to make a life for myself, I needed that degree, so I plugged on. In 5 years, I had my degree and a new fiancé.

Speaking of which, said fiance became ex-husband 5 years later. It was a foolish choice on my part. It shows how badly I felt about myself to choose the kind of man that I did. Who marries a man that screams at you that you are worthless? Strong people? If I was strong, why did I do that? But I was strong enough to get out, even if it meant giving up all rights to our house in exchange for my freedom. So I paid off any debt we had with out savings, and walked out with a suitcase, my car and whatever money was in my purse.

So "strongly", I started out on my own. I met two girls who had a 4 bedroom apartment...They would gladly let me share. I was happy to move in after staying with my parents for a few months. I did have a decent job and was starting to build up some bank account. That first week, I slept on the floor, with borrowed pillow from one of my new roomies. I soon went to IKEA, bought a bedroom set, and started to buy other necessities like towels and linens. It was a hard climb, mostly because I did not want to be a 27 year old divorcee. I knew I had to leave, but I was still sad and depressed. Who would want to marry me when I was divorced? Who does that? But I had made my IKEA bed, now it was time to lay in it.

I learned a lot about myself in those years though, and maybe found out I am tougher, and smarter than I thought. I knew to leave a life that was becoming dangerous for me. I knew that while my heart was broken for awhile, I could survive. And the most important lesson I learned was that I had worth simply because I was God's child. I did not need another person (man) to complete me, I was able and OK being just me. And I healed.

Meeting my husband almost 5 years later (yes, it took me that long to heal) was one of the best things to ever happen to me. I learned that real married life meant not being afraid, and that every little argument would not end in him threatening to divorce me. While we have taken some hits over the years, I am still grateful for what I think is wonderful life (cue the Jimmy stewart music....)



But those hits have taken their toll. Sure losing some jobs and having to move, and coming up with $25K to adopt our daughter was tough, but still very doable. And the adoption process - well, you need to have nerves of steel to go through that, but we did it together. Dealing with the loss of our unborn children and my fertility has been.....challenging. Once again, those old demons come out to haunt me. I picture that little white coffin from all those years ago and realize I have lost *my* children this time, and it batters my soul, like a hurricane batters a small ship on the ocean. I wonder what my children are like in heaven. Will they be children when I eventually meet them, or the adults they were meant to be? Time does dull the pain, but I beg to differ. Contrary to popular belief, time does not heal all wounds. Some wounds will always be tender when poked at.

I never knew how much one person could love another until I had my first child. His being born opened up an entirely new world for me. I would literally do anything to protect my children, even if it meant giving up my own life. I've had to fight for them in so many ways, and I never thought twice about it. Fight for Josh at his school, fight for insurance and equal medical care for adopted Katelyn, fight Noah's life threatening allergies that we keep finding the hard way... But all worth the fight, and never something I ever think twice about.

I don't ask myself in those situations if I am strong, I just do it, because that's what needs to be done. When Noah was a newborn in the hospital, and attached to halter monitor with wires hanging off him, I never ever considered not nursing him. I wondered how to do it for a split second then went to work. It wasn't even a consideration to give up. It's not even a consideration to not protect them. That's my job in life, and I do it better than anyone else can, because I love them more than anyone else can (save my husband of course).



I think we are all stronger than we know. In college, I remember crying because I was so hungry...but I survived (after some really bad cheap cans of tomato soup) and I am here today. After my divorce, I thought my life was over, but I am here with a better life than I could have imagined. I did that. In the hospital with Noah, sure I called my husband crying every 6 hours when they changed the prognosis from heart failure, to twisted intestines and so on and so on... But I spent every moment with I'm in the special care nursery, nursed him, fought for him side by side with my strong husband.

I. did. that.

I almost deleted this whole blog last week. I wanted to write the entry "I was a fool for even thinking I could make this work" and then delete it all. Just give up. The sad and alone part of me just wants to write of my grief and pain....but I can't. You see, there's this little part of me that has the slightest foothold, like a crack of light shining into a dark room. The "what if" in me that just can't make me let go, the part that pushes me out of bed in the morning to go feed my kids. A part of me that says "you are strong, you can *do* this."

Maybe, just maybe, that old friend was right.

Holding on

Oh. My. Gosh.

This is just crazy now. I was so sure it was the medication. Now, I have no idea what the heck is going on with my body. No wonder women with PCOS want to just regularly tear their hair out. Granted, my body has been through a lot with the medications, and the OHSS, but really? Seriously?!

Why I am so crazed?! Yep you guessed it, I am back to 184. I gained 2 pounds two days ago, and despite "tightening up" and pounding water since then, I've gained now a third pound leading me right back to this damn plateau again.

It seems I always get stuck, right here in the 180's.... I never get past it. I am sick of being heavy! I know I will never be that tiny little six...that's just not how my body was ever meant to be. But would an 8 or a 10 be so bad? I am wearing so many of my 12's, but I hate going dress shopping and picking up those 14's and 16's for more "room in the middle." (PCOS often causes weight gain in the stomach)

What more am I suppose to do? I am not eating more than 1400 calories a day. I am exercising. Following Paleo....And I have been stuck here at this weight for a month. Granted, I had that bad time over vacation, but is less than one week of cheating so bad? Is this really just cause for my crimes?

I am beginning to feel like food is my enemy. For a long time, I've felt betrayed by my own body, but now I am feeling like food is just as much my enemy as my body. What do they call that.. "frienemies?" That's food and my body..frienmies. They appear to be my allies, but really, they are just out to frustrate me and get me down. I've had little sympathy for those that say they've tried, but they just can't lose the weight. I simply didn't believe it.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe there are just some of us who can't do it. For days, I've looked at the leftover snacks from vacation, and wonder...what's the point? Why not just have that pop tart or Joe Joe cookie I'm craving? Not having them is Not helping my cause.

But what really is my cause? As beat down and frustrated as I feel, I also know deep inside me heart, I just can't just give up. Comforting my sadness with food is not the answer. I need to keep feeling this pain and not bury it under a pile of cookies. I need to remember there are other reasons besides not wanting to look like a potato sack in my bridesmaids dress. Granted, I am not thin, and I am not pregnant. But am I healthier? I truly believe yes, I am.

As I did my workout yesterday, I felt something I don't ever feel anymore...strong, powerful and in control. I felt like I could finally make my body, the one that always betrays me, do exactly what I wanted it to do. For that one hour, I wasn't sad and I didn't feel the hole in my soul. I could concentrate on what was right about me, what was strong. Whereas running sprints before would take my breath away, make my heart pound and leave my muscles sore for weeks...now those sprints just get my heart pumping a bit, and leaves some soreness in my legs for just a day or so.

And for just that one hour, I set aside that ever present pain in my heart when I think of my lost babies, both those already lost, and those I can't seem to conceive. The sadness that weighs me down so many hours of my day, is lifted.

My kids. My family. They mean everything and I will not be a physical and/or financial disabled burden to them. I have to just hold on to that. I don't want them to turn to food for comfort when they are adults. I don't want them to resent me because I can't crawl on the floor with their kids, or play at the park with them or go to Disney World. Or because I am just not around for them because I am dead, or constantly on the brink of dying. I want better for them, I want normal.

So I am holding on by a thread...but love for my family can make me hold on to that one thread pretty damn hard.

Making my way

So I was really right. It had to have been the medication that was causing the plateau/weight gain. I am not only back down to the 182 I was so proud of, I've lost another pound getting me down to 181 and a 27 pound lost.

I am still feeling the pain of my over-stimmed ovary. This makes exercise hard. I have not done any weight resistance this week, which is frustrating. But the cramping and pulling I am feeling makes it clear I would be foolish to try it. But I am eating clean and after a week of vacation, the scale is showing it's appreciation via good numbers.

I am just dying to know if I am going to ovulate on my own. I want to kick myself for going off program last week... will it have messed up my chances to ovulate on my own this month? Can 4 days un-do everything I have done over the past 2 1/2 months?

And who's to say going Paleo will even help me ovulate on my own after a lifetime of annovulatory cycles...

So like so many other TTC's out there, I am waiting....But in the mean time, I am losing, and that's a real win.

Bouncing Back

So I kind of made a bit of a fib yesterday....a lie of omission if you will. I mentioned I was afraid of getting on the scale. That's true - but only because I had weighed myself the Friday I came home for my scan...and I had gained 5 pounds.

How depressing. Way to kick me when I'm already down.

But I was determined to start fresh after vacation and start fresh I did. I ate mostly clean on Sunday upon our return, and completely clean yesterday. It felt good, and while just a little hungry (or perhaps in sugar withdrawal?) was not tempted to eat grains, sugar or dairy at all.

So this morning, I decided it was time to face the music and see exactly what I was up against. I mean, I lost it once, I can lose it again, right? Sometimes that big number on the scale is the motivator you need to play it smart, right?

I was down 6 pounds, less than what I started vacation with, and almost back to my 182 I was so proud of. What a shock, and very telling. I didn't lose 6 pounds over night. The fertility meds were clearly at work as I suspected. Again, I think a huge credit goes to Paleo that I only gained a bit, and lost right away. And now that I am not allowed to take them this month, my body is having a chance to bounce back.

I fully hope and intend to take fertility drugs next cycle, so the goal this month is to hunker down, exercise correctly, eat smart and get as much weight off as I can. Go me.

Still standing

The thing about blogging is, once you "take a break" it's sometimes hard to start again. So I put it off, and put it off, and well, I wasn't sure where to start again.

But I am here and still standing.

Barely.

There's so much to tell that it may take a while... So sit back, grab a cup of coffee, or hell, splurge and get a bag of popcorn and and take your time....

The last few weeks have been stressful, to put it mildly. Dh went to Vietnam on business, and to say I missed him would be an understatement. I felt like a part of me was empty and it was very difficult emotionally, much more than I expected. But that's good news, right? To miss your spouse so deeply after 10 years of marriage, just shows how much we still love each other.

During all this time, I have been responsible for lots of little things, that have just taken up every inch of my time...things like centerpieces and a year's worth of crafts for my MOPS group (I am one of the craft coordinators on the steering team), invitations for my sister's bridal shower, centerpieces and favors for above mentioned shower, summer dressy clothing for my entire family for the destination wedding this fall (I mean, where am I going to find short sleeved boy's dress shirts or white patent leather shoes for K in October?!)

And did I mentioned the sadness and stress of announcing the closing of my scrapbooking store? That's a whole other story...

Then of course *dramatic sigh* has been Paleo and Pcos (and of course, TTC). I hit a major plateau....I went down to 182 for a whopping 26 pound weight loss, then gained two pounds and stayed there....for weeks. I now know that I am probably one of the few whom clomid causes weight gain. I think it's to Paleo's credit that I did not gain the 10 - 15 pounds I have read others gained (and I now realized I have gained in the past).

But I didn't know it then, and man, was it frustrating! I was doing everything right...eating clean, exercising almost daily (not too much, just lots of daily walking with weight resistance and some sprints thrown in a couple of times a week). When you are losing, the sacrifice is worth it, but when you gain two pounds, and then sit there for a long time you think, what the hell am I doing this for? Because believe me, you all would know if I managed to get pregnant - I'd be shouting that from the roof tops! But nothing but negative for this pcos chick...and still feeling chubby, makes you just want to give up.

So then I go on vacation. It should have been relaxing, but it was really just lots of stress for me. More laundry and packing than I ever care to see, and worrying about paying for all the expensive things the kids want to do, then all the extra driving. I have to drive the kids down to the shore the week before because my in-laws like to take them by themselves for a few days. (they had the house the two weeks prior to our week) So pack clothes for them for 2 weeks, drive down to the Jersey shore, then drive back with my youngest. Then 4 days later drive down again while DH, youngest and I go down to join them.

BUT....there's a glitch. I am scheduled to get AF (that's aunt flo or my period for you non TTC's)....while I am down there. Which means I need a cd 3 baseline scan (ultrasound) if we are going to do another clomid cycle this month. So I get to tell DH that I need to leave one night and come back the next day or skip the cycle. I think, he's going to go ballistic, but he doesn't....he's a good sport about it thankfully. But the night before we even leave involves a race around town trying to find a pharmacy that has all my clomid in stock, because I am scheduled to take another truck load of it again - 24 pills...150 for 8 days...enough for a horse I believe, starting the day of my scan.

So sure enough mid week, AF starts and I schedule the scan. We had taken the kids to the boardwalk for rides and all the junk (cotton candy, ice cream, Johnson's caramel corn, fudge, corn dogs, french fries....) their little bodies can handle and then we head back to the house so I can head back home. We get the kids settled and I start driving (again...) home arriving around midnight.

I get up at 6:30 for my 8:00 appt and am on time. I think this will be quick and easy...like I've done a million times before with Josh and Noah in the past. Blood work, quick scan and I start on the clomid that night.. WRONG! One of my ovaries is enlarged, over stimmed from last month's meds. This means I can't stim it this cycle without serious repercussions. In some cases, OHSS can be fatal.

I feel crushed and the desperation starts to sink in even more. Once again, I feel like it's just so unfair. Why do I have to go through this? Why couldn't my baby have lived? My belly should be round and full and getting ready to deliver... Now, after months of treatments and heartbreaking negative tests and starting a whole new life style and more vitamins I could ever count, I can't even TRY?! I mean that's just so unfair. I cry all the way back to the shore. Driving back had been a total waste, and I will lose yet another month (possible two because we have a destination wedding Oct 4th)

And I give up. Another little piece of my heart dies and I give up.I let the hurt course though me and think my dreams are not meant to be. And I eat. The truth is, with the last negative test, I had already given up a bit. One again I tear down myself and accuse my body of being broken and worthless. Why was I born this way? Why do I have to deal with this?

A women in my MOPS group just has her 7th child and I've been asked to bring her a meal. How do I face her? Next month I have to go to my SIL's baby shower...who is due the same time I would have been. I will look at her perfect round belly and compare it to my flat broken belly and it just hurts. Why can't that be me? Why can't I just get pregnant when I want to? There are times when i come to peace with the way I am and other times, like now, it taunts me like a school yard bully.

So I eat very bad things... cinnamon roll with lot of sugary cream cheese frosting, ice cream, caramel corn, pizza, cookies, smores...all kinds of things. I even start up with dairy again. Not all at once, mind you, but over the 10 days I am there. And the pain starts.

Not the kind in my heart, I think I've established my emotional pain...No, I am talking about the physical pain. It starts with my shoulder, then moves to my neck and by the trip home, I am popping tylenol and/or excedrine migraine pills just to keep the pain in my head at bay. My hair starts falling out again too and I am fatigued beyond comprehension.

Well shoot. That means they are right. Crud, I was kind of hoping they weren't. I *like* great big cinnamon rolls with lots of cream cheese frosting. But I really don't like the way I feel, and I've got enough pain in my heart right now - I don't need the pain in my body as well.

So I am still standing, but barely. But really...barely is all you need to put one foot in front of the other and start again. I have been too afraid to step on the scale, but I will not be afraid to step in the kitchen. I began eating clean again today, and I have no desire to "cheat." I want to feel good again. I under estimated how much my body had been healing over the last few months...how well I was actually feeling. I resented not having the burst of energy other's reported. I didn 't realize not being tired all the time was the burst of energy they were talking about! Health had snuck up on me, and I didn't even know it.

It stops. I am, regrettably, a true believer now. I may not really like paleo, but pregnant or not, I truly believe it's the right choice for me. And maybe, just maybe, once I heal my body again physically, I can start to put my heart back together again.