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.
