I have a ton of things to do today, really, I am swamped. It's kind of crazy
I am suppose to leave for a women's retreat in less than three hours, I have two loads of laundry to do, I need to cook meatballs for an early dinner, to clean the house(kitchen, bathroom family room etc) before my MIL comes to babysit tomorrow and I needed to run an errand that takes me almost an hour round trip. Oh, and I need to pack for the afore mentioned retreat and get the kids to the babysitting co-op by 6:00 in rush hour traffic.
So I'm in the car running my errand, N. whining a bit in the background about how he really wants ice cream, and my dad calls on my cell. Can I come over to sit with my mom for a few hours? Today? My breath just kind of catches - my dad almost NEVER asks me for help. How bad was it this time? Did something happen? He's asking for help, it must be really bad. Are we going back into the hospital for the 3rd time in 5 weeks time?
I don't have time, it's the worse timing and it's just one more thing to add on to my very stressful life. But I hesitate for about a half second, rearrange my schedule in my head and say, "Of course."
And really, I'm happy to do it. Maybe not happy, per se, but relieved that in this un-winnable situation my parents find themselves in, I can in some way help. Does it really matter in the grand scheme of things if my MIL sees my house messy....again? Or that I don't go to a retreat I was anxious about attending in the first place? It seems silly when faced with the chance to have compassion for someone else.
But wait, haven't I written adnauseum about how I am angry at my mom for what she has done (or rather hasn't done) to her body? to our family? How I've emotionally removed myself from her? Yes, I wrote many times about that.
I mean, it seems she is always getting worse. Every time this happens, I ask myself how it is that continually manages to hold on yet again. I've had more than one Christmas where I have thought "this is the last one." I've said goodbye in my heart over andover again. It's really no wonder I've removed myself emotionally.... how many times can you prepare yourself for the worse only to start over again (hmmm, where have I heard that theme before?)
But one night a few weeks ago, as I sat with her in the hospital (she won't allow anyone but me or my dad to sit with her), I came to some realizations. I was holding her hand and telling her it was OK to cry, that it was a good way to let the stress and sadness leave your body. This was something I knew all too well
Somewhere in that process, the child became the parent and the parent became the child and I found not only forgiveness in my heart, but compassion as well. And something changed in me. Maybe it's because I am so emotionally vulnerable (weak?) right now. Maybe because this time it really could be the end, maybe it's because I'm getting older, my kids are getting older or it's a chance to do some good in what is becoming a bleaker and bleaker world for me.
But I think the main reason is because I realized my mom *got* me. Back up a sec here... I've always regretted not having a close relationship with her. I wanted one, but I didn't seem to be the kind of person she needed me to be, and she wasn't the person I needed her to be. t resented her for that. For not being there when I needed her. The thing is, in the grand scheme of things, I survived. So I didn't have a shopping buddy, or a grandmother who could buddy around with my kids. But in the end I got something so much more important.
In the quiet of those nights at the hospital, despite the terrible physical pain she was in, she asked me how the last IUI went. It's so raw and festering right now, I couldn't help but tear up and confess I just couldn't manage to get pregnant, and how I couldn't' get away from the desire much as I wanted to. I don't know why, because she's never gotten me before, but this she seemed to get. With few words expressed between us, she seemed to sense the depth of my pain and she not only understood it, she validated it and she mourned with me. We just sat there, the two us and for the first time in many years, understanding each other, and I felt at peace with my mom.
I could feel the forgiveness wash over me like a waterfall, and a part of me felt like a weight had been lifted.
It totally sucks to be in the position she's in, and there is nothing she can do to change it. She has to sit there and let the various diseases take her body, her dignity, her life, inch by inch. Will she ever realize her own role in that process, I don't know, but what's done is done. Did I have a right to be angry? Maybe. But I've learned that you can't explain feelings away, or sort them into bins....these feelings are OK to have, these feelings are not OK to have, these feelings, I shouldn't be feeling, these feelings are justified etc etc etc
You feel what you feel. And despite what I thought, forgiveness is always possible, even when you think it will never happen.
So I am going to make the meatballs so my family can eat tonight, and hopefully clean my kitchen, then head over to my moms to sit with her. The retreat can wait. The laundry can wait, and my MIL can see my messy family room and bathroom.
I'm going to go sit with my mom.
Friday, 27 January 2012
Wednesday, 25 January 2012
Stuff/Hope....same thing
Today might possibly be the worst day of my life.
We've decided it's time to move. To make it short and simple, we need to get into a different school district, one that actually takes allergies seriously (see this story, while not our school district in the story, it might as well be), and we need to be closer to a hospital as another precaution to keep N. safe.
But if we are going to sell this house, we need to clear the clutter and we are out of storage space. Why no space? Because it's been too painful to let go of my baby gear and hand me downs. Rob' had wanted to give it to my SIL, but I couldn't and I know he thinks I am nuts or at the very least one of those hoarder people. But I couldn't find a way to explain it to him. How could I explain that I wouldn't see little M. getting use out of those things, I would see the presence of absence....I would see what I didn't have. I know, it's a lousy excuse to be selfish, but there it is.
But the time has come when I can't hold onto it any longer. We need to do this to keep N. safe. So away goes the high chair, away goes the baby bath, away goes the grocery cart cover, baby carrier and so much more I can't bear to think of. As I sorted though each article of clothing deciding what would go to charity and what could be so sold, I felt like I was sorting through both pieces of memories and lost dreams.
I fingered the pink sleepers - they were so soft! Some never even used, because K., my adopted little one came to us 6 months later than she was expected. She couldn't' very well wear fleece in July. I remember tucking them away, knowing I was meant to have more children, maybe another girl.
And the boys clothes -such memories! Now they had two little boys that had worn these precious things, and hard! They played, slept, rolled in the mud and sand, played in the sink and went down many a slide in all those things. But they still had so much life left in them! Surely I could keep them for just one more child?
I loaded the first load into the van with a heavy heart. My legs felt like lead and my heart was in my throat. Even now as I write this, the things gone a receipt in my van, my whole body feels kind of numb, like it's trying to protect itself from any more possible pain,
They thanked me at the charity for my donation, like I was a good person or something for doing this, like I wanted to be there. I avoided watching them loading onto the waiting truck. I couldn't bare it. It seems they asked me at least three times, "It's all children's stuff, right?"
OMG. Why does this have to be so hard? In the spanse of few seconds I think, yes, these are children's things, things I will never get to use again. Things I don't want to give you, but I have no choice. Unlike other women, I can't just choose to have another child. Only a miracle can give me a child, and it seems I am fresh out. Don't thank me, I don't want to give you these things.
But I don't say that. I just say, yes, it's all children's things. I can't help but glance in the truck as the conversation goes on. They ask me again, it's all children's stuff, right? Each time I repeat back my answer calmly and politely, even though all I want to do is climb on that truck, grab my stuff back and peel out of the drive like a scene from a bad movie.
I always say, stuff is just stuff, it's not what's important in life. And I truly believe it. But in this case, it's different. Each piece taken away represented my hope and belief that life can be good. With each piece I give away, another piece of my hope dies, and takes with it a part of my heart, a part of my joy.
With each month that goes by, I wonder why we are here on this cruddy earth, when it's filled with so much pain? What's the point? It's harder and harder to take comfort in my children because I think, what kind of pain will they face? Will they go through this same nightmare, or something worse? I don't want to know, because I simply can't take anymore heart break.
So I tell my children life isn't fair, and no one promised it would be. But somewhere along the line, I guess I thought there were certain promises in life. I was a fool, and now I am paying the price for having that hope.
I recently saw on Facebook one of those graphics that's so popular right now... You know, everyone is posting some picture wrought with deep meaning, political statements or silly jokes. This one simple said "HOPE" Hang On, Pain Ends.
Yeah right... Hope simply garnishes more pain. It should really say, Hold on, Pain Endures. And so it will for me over the next few weeks as I battle my heart with my mind. I will have to force myself to let go of these things I hold dear, to give them away to strangers, to let the last of my hope drift away, un-noticed by anyone but me.
I turn 43 in 9 days, the year has past, and I have nothing but more lost pregnancies to show for it. And if life isn't hard enough, I started spotting today too. I'm telling ya, Someone somewhere must really hate me.
We've decided it's time to move. To make it short and simple, we need to get into a different school district, one that actually takes allergies seriously (see this story, while not our school district in the story, it might as well be), and we need to be closer to a hospital as another precaution to keep N. safe.
But if we are going to sell this house, we need to clear the clutter and we are out of storage space. Why no space? Because it's been too painful to let go of my baby gear and hand me downs. Rob' had wanted to give it to my SIL, but I couldn't and I know he thinks I am nuts or at the very least one of those hoarder people. But I couldn't find a way to explain it to him. How could I explain that I wouldn't see little M. getting use out of those things, I would see the presence of absence....I would see what I didn't have. I know, it's a lousy excuse to be selfish, but there it is.
But the time has come when I can't hold onto it any longer. We need to do this to keep N. safe. So away goes the high chair, away goes the baby bath, away goes the grocery cart cover, baby carrier and so much more I can't bear to think of. As I sorted though each article of clothing deciding what would go to charity and what could be so sold, I felt like I was sorting through both pieces of memories and lost dreams.
I fingered the pink sleepers - they were so soft! Some never even used, because K., my adopted little one came to us 6 months later than she was expected. She couldn't' very well wear fleece in July. I remember tucking them away, knowing I was meant to have more children, maybe another girl.
And the boys clothes -such memories! Now they had two little boys that had worn these precious things, and hard! They played, slept, rolled in the mud and sand, played in the sink and went down many a slide in all those things. But they still had so much life left in them! Surely I could keep them for just one more child?
I loaded the first load into the van with a heavy heart. My legs felt like lead and my heart was in my throat. Even now as I write this, the things gone a receipt in my van, my whole body feels kind of numb, like it's trying to protect itself from any more possible pain,
They thanked me at the charity for my donation, like I was a good person or something for doing this, like I wanted to be there. I avoided watching them loading onto the waiting truck. I couldn't bare it. It seems they asked me at least three times, "It's all children's stuff, right?"
OMG. Why does this have to be so hard? In the spanse of few seconds I think, yes, these are children's things, things I will never get to use again. Things I don't want to give you, but I have no choice. Unlike other women, I can't just choose to have another child. Only a miracle can give me a child, and it seems I am fresh out. Don't thank me, I don't want to give you these things.
But I don't say that. I just say, yes, it's all children's things. I can't help but glance in the truck as the conversation goes on. They ask me again, it's all children's stuff, right? Each time I repeat back my answer calmly and politely, even though all I want to do is climb on that truck, grab my stuff back and peel out of the drive like a scene from a bad movie.
I always say, stuff is just stuff, it's not what's important in life. And I truly believe it. But in this case, it's different. Each piece taken away represented my hope and belief that life can be good. With each piece I give away, another piece of my hope dies, and takes with it a part of my heart, a part of my joy.
With each month that goes by, I wonder why we are here on this cruddy earth, when it's filled with so much pain? What's the point? It's harder and harder to take comfort in my children because I think, what kind of pain will they face? Will they go through this same nightmare, or something worse? I don't want to know, because I simply can't take anymore heart break.
So I tell my children life isn't fair, and no one promised it would be. But somewhere along the line, I guess I thought there were certain promises in life. I was a fool, and now I am paying the price for having that hope.
I recently saw on Facebook one of those graphics that's so popular right now... You know, everyone is posting some picture wrought with deep meaning, political statements or silly jokes. This one simple said "HOPE" Hang On, Pain Ends.
Yeah right... Hope simply garnishes more pain. It should really say, Hold on, Pain Endures. And so it will for me over the next few weeks as I battle my heart with my mind. I will have to force myself to let go of these things I hold dear, to give them away to strangers, to let the last of my hope drift away, un-noticed by anyone but me.
I turn 43 in 9 days, the year has past, and I have nothing but more lost pregnancies to show for it. And if life isn't hard enough, I started spotting today too. I'm telling ya, Someone somewhere must really hate me.
Friday, 6 January 2012
Confused Emotions
I haven't written in a while, because I've been confused about my emotions.
I expected it to get easier....I've been waiting for that old adage, "time heals all wounds" to kick in. Yet it hasn't. I find life getting more difficult and the sadness just presses in on me.
I used to be involved in soulcysters or boards like it. I would take comfort from those on the same path, and rejoice in their successes, waiting, sometimes patiently, sometimes not, for my own.
But it's different this time. I find regular interaction with other infertiles to be too difficult. Instead of rejoicing in their pregnancy announcements, I get sad or jealous. I can't be around pregnant women or babies without the reality of my own circumstances tugging at my emotions. I still dream at night about babies, either losing them or them being taken away, and now a new one, watching only other women have them.
At the heart of it all is how to get through it. I don't want to simply exist in this sadness, I want to find a way to come to peace. That's where the confused emotions come into play. Many many years ago I became " saved", a born again Christian, a believer...pick your term. In the simplest explanation, it means I formed a personal relationship with God made possible by the sacrifice Jesus made on the cross.
I came to that state after my divorce as a young woman. That relationship saved me not just my eternal soul, but who I was. It made me a better person, it gave me compassion, comfort and simple joy in the knowledge I was loved, I had value simply because I was God's.
Since then, I've always turned to God when I was lost. I turned to him when I was so lonely before I met Rob, I turned to him when I had my first pregnancy loss and those following, when the adoption looked so bleak and so many other times in my life. I always accepted that God had a plan for me, and though I may not understand it, it had purpose, meaning... At our wedding, I had the vocalist sing about how God causes all things to come to gather for our good. It meant something to me. I had learned that while life was sometimes rough, there was a greater purpose at work. I thought God knew best and simply accepted it for what it was.
As this terrible year, the worst of my life has progressed, I've gotten progressively angrier. Why was He doing this to me? Intellectually, I knew God wasn't doing anything, that's just the fallen world we live in. But in my heart I felt like it was being done *to* me. Why let me get pregnant if I wasn't going to be able to keep it? Why not protect me from that? Especially after coming to peace that I wouldn't get pregnant again. It seemed so cruel to me.
But most of all, why make me this way, so very broken, both in body and mind? The more broken my body becomes, the more my mind and spirit seem to break. I feel so very fragile now, like it would take so very little to just shatter what's left of me.
In the weeks leading up to Christmas, I felt some peace. It's impossible not to think of God and be drawn to him with so many messages sent your way, the constant reminder of the birth of Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us. Surely God would be with me again? But about a week before Christmas it came to me. God has abandoned me. My broken body surely can't be worth his attention. Perhaps he made me like this because I simply didn't deserve better? I remember the moment... God must not only not love me, He must hate me... Why else would I be suffering this way? I couldn't' wait for Christmas to be over so I didn't have to think about it. It hurt too much.
I feel like a hypocrite going to church now, playing on the worship band. But I'm too embarrassed to back out. How do you explain that God has abandoned you? And surely he still loves my kids? They need God. I can't possibly take that from them.
So I continue to be at a crossroads, not sure how to heal myself, where to go. I've always prayed in the past. I know that God doesn't always answer our prayers the way we want. But I don't know what to do when He is completely silent. I feel like I've tried to be fair, I've prayed to either get pregnant or that the desire be removed from my heart. Surely, I was being open to God's will? But that wasn't good enough for Him, and so I am faced with this alone.
I try to find comfort where I can. My husband has turned over a new leaf, willing to lend an ear or a shoulder to cry on. His compassion gives me strength. But I hate to burden him too much. Whiny people annoy me, I can only imagine how bad I have been and continue to be. (It's one of the reasons I don't write here more.) Having a little son who needs me so much helps too. He gives the best hugs. When his little arms wrap around me, I feel alive again and the pain is gone if just for an instant.
I just keep putting one foot in front of the other, hoping, but no longer praying, that the adage has some basis. Please time, do your thing, and soon?
I expected it to get easier....I've been waiting for that old adage, "time heals all wounds" to kick in. Yet it hasn't. I find life getting more difficult and the sadness just presses in on me.
I used to be involved in soulcysters or boards like it. I would take comfort from those on the same path, and rejoice in their successes, waiting, sometimes patiently, sometimes not, for my own.
But it's different this time. I find regular interaction with other infertiles to be too difficult. Instead of rejoicing in their pregnancy announcements, I get sad or jealous. I can't be around pregnant women or babies without the reality of my own circumstances tugging at my emotions. I still dream at night about babies, either losing them or them being taken away, and now a new one, watching only other women have them.
At the heart of it all is how to get through it. I don't want to simply exist in this sadness, I want to find a way to come to peace. That's where the confused emotions come into play. Many many years ago I became " saved", a born again Christian, a believer...pick your term. In the simplest explanation, it means I formed a personal relationship with God made possible by the sacrifice Jesus made on the cross.
I came to that state after my divorce as a young woman. That relationship saved me not just my eternal soul, but who I was. It made me a better person, it gave me compassion, comfort and simple joy in the knowledge I was loved, I had value simply because I was God's.
Since then, I've always turned to God when I was lost. I turned to him when I was so lonely before I met Rob, I turned to him when I had my first pregnancy loss and those following, when the adoption looked so bleak and so many other times in my life. I always accepted that God had a plan for me, and though I may not understand it, it had purpose, meaning... At our wedding, I had the vocalist sing about how God causes all things to come to gather for our good. It meant something to me. I had learned that while life was sometimes rough, there was a greater purpose at work. I thought God knew best and simply accepted it for what it was.
As this terrible year, the worst of my life has progressed, I've gotten progressively angrier. Why was He doing this to me? Intellectually, I knew God wasn't doing anything, that's just the fallen world we live in. But in my heart I felt like it was being done *to* me. Why let me get pregnant if I wasn't going to be able to keep it? Why not protect me from that? Especially after coming to peace that I wouldn't get pregnant again. It seemed so cruel to me.
But most of all, why make me this way, so very broken, both in body and mind? The more broken my body becomes, the more my mind and spirit seem to break. I feel so very fragile now, like it would take so very little to just shatter what's left of me.
In the weeks leading up to Christmas, I felt some peace. It's impossible not to think of God and be drawn to him with so many messages sent your way, the constant reminder of the birth of Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us. Surely God would be with me again? But about a week before Christmas it came to me. God has abandoned me. My broken body surely can't be worth his attention. Perhaps he made me like this because I simply didn't deserve better? I remember the moment... God must not only not love me, He must hate me... Why else would I be suffering this way? I couldn't' wait for Christmas to be over so I didn't have to think about it. It hurt too much.
I feel like a hypocrite going to church now, playing on the worship band. But I'm too embarrassed to back out. How do you explain that God has abandoned you? And surely he still loves my kids? They need God. I can't possibly take that from them.
So I continue to be at a crossroads, not sure how to heal myself, where to go. I've always prayed in the past. I know that God doesn't always answer our prayers the way we want. But I don't know what to do when He is completely silent. I feel like I've tried to be fair, I've prayed to either get pregnant or that the desire be removed from my heart. Surely, I was being open to God's will? But that wasn't good enough for Him, and so I am faced with this alone.
I try to find comfort where I can. My husband has turned over a new leaf, willing to lend an ear or a shoulder to cry on. His compassion gives me strength. But I hate to burden him too much. Whiny people annoy me, I can only imagine how bad I have been and continue to be. (It's one of the reasons I don't write here more.) Having a little son who needs me so much helps too. He gives the best hugs. When his little arms wrap around me, I feel alive again and the pain is gone if just for an instant.
I just keep putting one foot in front of the other, hoping, but no longer praying, that the adage has some basis. Please time, do your thing, and soon?
Thursday, 15 December 2011
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.
Wednesday, 7 December 2011
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.
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.
Thursday, 1 December 2011
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.
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.
Monday, 14 November 2011
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.
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.
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