March 9, 2010

5. some of the crazy

Posted in drivel at 3:52 am by M

In my experience, it’s harder to blog when things aren’t ok.  When life is good, there’s plenty of blog fodder around – but when life isn’t so good it’s hard to think of anything else.  Just another casualty of the crazy.

I’m displaying physical symptoms of PTSD.  Dramatic, I know.  And I haven’t officially been diagnosed, but my Dr thinks it likely that I am suffering from it.  And just typing that makes me feel guilty, guilty for wasting her time when really I’m fine, when there are other people that need access to services, when I have nothing to complain about.

It’s exhausting.

I have constant fears for B’s safety.  I have graphic images of things that could happen to him, graphic and gruesome and frightening in their detail.  Both awake and asleep.  And not within the realms of ‘normal’ fears a mother has for her child.  Hideous pictures in my head assault me any time of the day or night.  I can’t concentrate, usually I have a pretty one track mind and find it easy to complete a task – right now not a chance.  I have ringing in my ears.  I’m forgetting everything, even the most basic bloody words…  All the things I normally DO NOT DO.

It’s embarrassing.

Yes, embarrassing.  I am NOT THAT KIND OF PERSON.  I feel like shouting it from the rooftops, but realise that it is futile.  I don’t want to admit that I’m not ok.  I hadn’t even told A the extent to which I’m suffering until we went out for breakfast on Sunday.  He is shocked.  Ha ha his wife is crazy!

I go back to my GP on Thursday for a referral to a psychologist.  I have one last appointment with my therapist and then am moving on from her – mainly because she is so bloody expensive and isn’t covered by my private health insurance, which the psychologist will be.  I am not going to take medication for 2 reasons: a) I’m breastfeeding and b) I really don’t want to.  Over the years I have taken anti-depressants, and really would like to avoid this at all costs.

I am going to resign from my job.  I HATE IT.  I hate it SO MUCH.  I hate the people I deal with, and for someone in my (management) position I am treated badly, both by my employer and by my clients.  It is a source of anxiety for me, I need to be rid of it.  Obviously, the money is welcomed, but I just cannot do it any more.  I’ll give it a couple of months before I resign, then I’ll do nothing for a bit before finding a nice job, maybe in retail, that I can do and then go home and forget about.

A is freaking out about money, or rather the lack of it.  I am too, but I need some time.  The only joy I am feeling in my life right now is from my son, and I want to make the most of it whilst I can.  He may well be the only child we have, and I need to soak up every single second of his babyhood.  If that means we live frugally, well then so be it.  We can do that.

See?  Now I’m feeling all guilty for being dramatic and over the top and I can’t even finish my post detailing all my symptoms.  Is that a symptom?  It’s exhausting…

We’ve committed to doing another IVF cycle.  I’ll wean B when he’s one and we’ll take it from there.  I just want all this other stuff out of my head by then – past that we’ve no plan.  Either it will or it won’t work (obviously) and we’ve got no plans either way.  It’s nice to not be so obsessed with plans for a change – years ago I’d have to know exactly what we had planned beyond that cycle.  Now, I don’t feel so desperate.

As I trudged through the soul-sucking experiences of infertility and recurrent loss, I couldn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel.  I’d get frustrated when I read a blogger had achieved their dream of a baby, then still didn’t seem happy.

I am that person.  And for that, I am so so so sorry.


February 27, 2010

4. healed?

Posted in drivel at 11:07 am by M

Today, my best best best best best friend in the world told me that she is 10 weeks pregnant.  And for the first time in a very long long time, I felt unadulterated joy.  My heart sang.  I didn’t feel that familiar, dark, twisty feeling in the pit of my gut.  I am so happy. Truly, truly happy…

February 25, 2010

3. the return

Posted in drivel at 10:49 am by M


Once again, no excuses.  Mum left yesterday after a 3 week stay, so I’ve lost all contact with the real world.  It’s funny, now that she’s gone back I feel more homesick and alone than ever, yet when she’s here she annoys me SO MUCH.

At my last therapy session we talked a lot about how isolated I am, I have no family in this state and whilst I do have friends here, they’re not old friends, the friends that know all the ugly.  And my in laws are in the same state  yet a long way away, and to be honest I feel so disconnected from them.  We have nothing in common, and now that the Boy is here they show little to no interest in me.  Which is ok I suppose, but I suppose having ‘my’ people around would pick up the slack.

Cue mid-life crisis.  A few weeks ago I turned 39 years old.  How the fuck did that happen?  Seriously?  This time next year I will be 40?  I cannot wrap my head around that fact.  I feel exactly the same now as I did 10 years ago, ok a little battered and beaten and definitely many kilograms heavier, but essentially the same.

So, it’s time.  That time.  Time to talk about whether or not we try for more children.  Or pursue the adoption path.  And we have a plan.

Firstly, adoption is off the table until the Boy is at least 2 years old.  Unfortunately, that is the law here in Australia, so by the time he is 2 I’m essentially out of the biological race.  I’ll be going on 41 by then, and that’s the starting point.  For some reason, we aren’t allowed start adoption proceedings until such time as the youngest child is 2.  Stupid stupid stupid stupid.

Last Tuesday I had 2 appointments, one with my RE and one with my obstetrician.  Essentially, I needed for them to tell me  yes or no.  Yes they think I should cycle again, yes I could carry another pregnancy, or no I’m too old and crusty and should count my blessings and saunter off into the sunset.

The vote was unanimous.  They both are encouraging us to try again.

What the FUCK am I thinking?

Stay tuned….

January 30, 2010

2. expression

Posted in drivel at 4:33 am by M

Today I tried to tell my husband that I’m not fine – it was so so so hard.  My throat hurt.  It’s not used to expressing myself, setting myself up for disappointment.

I was disappointed.

He wants to make it better, he wants us to be ok.  But he doesn’t know how to fix it.  Or to fix me.  Am I broken?  I’m battered that’s for sure, but not broken. He becomes resentful and goes on the offence, whilst I’m trying to tread gently so as not to hurt him.

I need lessons on how to express myself, how to expose my vulnerabilities.  How not to piss my husband off.

It’s tough.

How do you tell your significant other your feelings?  Do you at all?

January 28, 2010

1. welcome to my crazy heart

Posted in drivel at 10:59 am by M

Welcome to my new space.  I’m still me, still the same old M, still the same email address – just a new look.  No passwords.  Well, maybe a password for photos?  What do you think?  All I ask is if you do know me in real life, if you stumble upon this space, please please please let me know.

Would you believe I’ve been a week worrying about what to call this blog?  Seriously, that’s been the hardest part.  I’ve composed a gazillion posts in my head but had nowhere to put them, so in the end I just decided to write from the heart, hence the name of the blog.

This is my third blog.  I’ve been blogging for 4 years now.  I’ve made some truly amazing, incredible connections with some wonderful women.  Now, for some inexplicable reason, I’ve  jeopardised those connections, fallen off the face of the earth – not maintained my side of the relationships.  I hate myself for it.  Why?  I don’t know.  All I do know is that I regret falling away and I miss the support, the laughs, the cries, the friendships.  I will now whittle down the frazillion unread posts in my reader, and start commenting and rejoining the world again.

It’s good to be back.

So for those I haven’t met – here is the condensed version, a timeline of our ivf/infertility/loss history.  It’s ugly, but it’s my ugly.  Ugly punctuated by astounding, incredible beauty – a beauty I still can’t believe I have in my life.

A wise woman once told me to see someone, to talk to someone.  A counsellor.

(I really do need to thank this wise woman.  She knows who she is.)

So I did.  Today was my second appointment.  It’s hard.  All kinds of hard.

My therapist is tough.  Unforgiving.  I cried when I saw the diagram on the whiteboard, a diagram that showed plainly that little girl M had to grow up fast and missed out on so many childhood things.  I mourned for her.

I don’t know how to show vulnerability.  I don’t know how to say “I’m not fine.”  I don’t know how to admit that I’m not ok.  I don’t know how to articulate what I want, what I need.  I don’t know how to not be in control, to be poised and present the facade I want the world to see.

It’s exhausting.

My son is AMAZING.  He’s incredible.  Bright.  Funny.  HUGE.  7 months old with a cheeky personality that is emerging every single day, sparkly blue eyes and a ready, gummy smile that you can’t help but grin back at.

I pinch myself every day that he is here and he is mine.

I am surrounded by breathtaking beauty.

{photos removed}

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