Mea Culpa

Last month (it seems like forever ago at this point), when I landed myself back in Horsham, I was upset about my sister's pregnancy (straw, really, that broke the camel's back in that area) as well as my mother's insistence that I be gracious...as though I would be a bitch.  But not just that...

Sister has always done it "right".  And I, well, I am the family fuck up.  Falling well below my "potential" lalala.  So it wasn't just the pregnancy.  It's just my year, the feeling that I have been a huge disappointment to so much of my family.  It's a huge issue for me.  Huge.  And the roots go way back.

At the surface was the pregnancy announcement.  But that was just the tip of the iceberg, really.  Like I said, it's an issue for me.  And it's one I'm working on.

When I found out I was pregnant, I immediately felt terrible for putting my husband, son, family through yet another scare - considering that at the time I had just conceived.  I felt guilty.  Still do, to some extent.  Guilt, failure...yeah, yeah.  So there is more than one issue.

But the thing is...there is NO WAY I could have known that.  There is no way I would ever have considered the possibility.  Hell, I was at the doctor 2 days before I tested, CD36, and they didn't even consider a pregnancy test themselves given our history.  How could I have known?  I couldn't have.

My reaction was based on what I KNEW to be true about my IF, my life, my situation.  And I had already apologized to my family, my husband, my friends, for putting them through that again.

I'm not perfect.  Who is?  I am what I am.  And I am fighting like hell to keep myself on an even keel for this baby.

And let me tell you - while I am able to be on most of my meds for now, I had to stop Klonopin.  Which means I've had to learn very quickly how to control my anxiety.  How to change my focus or drop a subject or whatever in order to be okay.  I stopped caffeine because while it's wake-me-up powers are awesome, even the 1 cup a day I am allowed didn't help the anxiety.  I let Hubby deal with things that would normally drive me crazy.  And I am forcing myself to remember that most of the things that are making me edgy can wait.  They can be handled over time.  The urge to cut?  Still there.  Still VERY MUCH there.  Like I said, I am fighting like hell.

I can't take away the things I've done, the sickness that causes me to react so violently to situations, or a pregnancy that is so incredibly treasured despite its not so great timing in terms of our finances/living situation.  What time is good?  For us?  Ha.

So, no, I can't make the past go away.  But I also can't live in regret.  I can only move forward.  And hope that others do so with me.

Grasshopper - 7w0d

WEEKLY UPDATE

How far along: 7w0d - Grasshopper is the size of a blueberry -Baby's brain - both hemisperes! - is growing fast, generating about 100 new cells every minute.  Arms and legs are emerging as joints start to form, and a permanent set of kidney's (baby's third!) is now in place.

Total Weight Gain: No idea. I refuse to get on the scale.

Maternity clothes: Not yet, but due to bloating I am wearing more stretchy clothes than not.

Sleep: I have good meds for now, so I sleep fairly well, but the vivid pregnancy dreams have hit.

Movement: I don't expect that for 8 more weeks at least.

Cravings/Aversions: It is ALL about the bland food right now.  And if I crave something, I guarantee that obtaining said food is basically not possible.  And coffee doesn't settle very well at all.

Sex: I refuse to do the deed until we get the go ahead from the OB.  Paranoid, here.

Symptoms: ., bloating, constipation, gas, fatigue, boobs sore and growing.

What I miss: Nothing :-)

What I look forward to: OB visit and u/s for reassurance.  Movement.

Moods: Happy overall.  Having to really focus on staying calm as had to drop one of my meds right away.

Milestones: Coming out to the family and all friends!

Medical Concerns: On 3 meds, 2 of which are contraindicated for breastfeeding - those are the bipolar specific meds, and in order to breastfeed we will have to wean me off of them and hope all is well.  Not looking forward to that.

Weekly Wisdom: Gingerale and orange juice = yum.

Best moment this week: All the love from our friends upon our announcement!

It's odd...I felt nothing resembling pregnant until I tried to go off my meds.  That seemed to kick my pregnancy symptoms into high gear, so now I feel pregnant.  All the same, I will feel much better in a month or so when I hit 2nd trimester.

No belly pic.  No thank you.  I am nearly the weight I was when I had P, so starting out 40lbs heavier than last time.  No urge to show fat tummy until it's an actual bump.

Grasshopper

Recently the universe bitch-slapped me upside the head, Gibbs-style.  It said, "Woman, don't you ever doubt my power again.  Don't stop believing.  I am an uncontrollable force with which to be reckoned.  Bow to me."  

But let me back up a little.

What was it that set me over the edge?  Pregnancy announcement after pregnancy announcement?  Yup.  Facing up to the raw facts of IF again at a time when ALL I wanted was the ability to have a sibling for P, when everything in the world seemed to be against us.  Sadly, friends who I had been pregnant with last time,  even my IF sisters for whom I am so happy, even their announcements were difficult because I ... well, I was fragile and not remotely able to see any of this logically.

IF will always be a bitch.  I hate that bitch.  And I was desperately hating my other silent illness (mental illness) which was putting a rather large monkey wrench in our ability to move forward with Miracle #2.  But at least that was something I could do something to fight.  Some days I lose that battle, but more and more, I am winning.  

But it seems I am winning the other battle as well...because we are in need of this shirt for P (big thanks to my forner cycle buddy Nichole and her Hubby for the shirt!!!):

Yup.  Yeah.  Not kidding.  Grasshopper will be arriving no later than early June 2013.  I am 6w5d today.

The story:  Friday Oct 12 I was starting to wonder if AF was going to arrive this month, and was rather pissed that she was absent, just because it was becoming so hard to know whether to pack tampons or not! I did a little quick research that morning and found that one of my meds could cause dysmenorrhea, so I figured that was it.  But given my inability to give up that sliver of hope, I stopped by the $Store for a couple cheapies on my way to Group.

I even joked in group that I was going to take the tests ha ha.

So, between Group and our walk, I went into the bathroom and peed on one.  And it IMMEDIATELY came up with a very dark second line.  And I said, to myself, "Ummm."  So, I breathlessly told a couple of people on the walk because I was flabbergasted, though mostly what I said was , "What??!"  Yeah, denial.  So I went back to the clinic and peed on the 2nd one.  Same result.  Okay, maybe this is right.  And then drove to RiteAid, bought a double pack of FRERs, and used the bathroom.  And, those both immediately came up with that unmistakeable 2nd line.

Maybe this was real?  Apparently I thought so, because I went off my meds cold turkey that day.

That night was when the sweats and chills started.  And continued.  Along with diarrhea and nausea, but no fever.  Withdrawal it turns out was not going to just happen.  We ended up in the ER Sunday morning, got some fluids in me, a stern admonition to never try that again and go back on the meds for now...and an ultrasound :-)  The doctor practically handed it to us on a plate, having heard our story.  And I was *just* far enough along for the tech to detect a heartbeat.  Yay!  

You know the crazy thing?  My friend over at A Little Bit Of Life tested positive a few weeks ago after almost filling her brand new script of Clomid for their first attempt at #2.  And the same Friday I got a BFP surprise, so did my friend at Venting Vagina - who has twin boys from numerous IVF/FET treatments.  AND a friend on Twitter tested positive as well at our prompting.  LOL.  Something is in the air this fall my dears!!!

I am paranoid this time around. I have seen too much bad.  So this time, we are doing the 12 week bloodwork and NT scan.  Same as last time, not finding out sex, so DON'T ASK!  1st OB appointment is November 5th.  15 days...not that I'm counting or anything o_O.  

Welcome to my uterus, Grasshopper.

Eureka!

I figured it out!  Why I'm not all Chatty Cathy on here these days.

I pay people to listen to me be chatty and let it all hang out.  I am easily the most verbose of the people in  my group.  Plus I get an hour of individual every week.   Why would I want to spend hours and hours every week baring my soul and then come home and type it up?  I don't.

It's the same reason I despise talking on the phone.  I spent years working at jobs that had me on the phone ALL. DAY. LONG.  Thus, I have no urge to use a phone for its intended purpose.

Speaking of intended purpose...

Toddler.  Right?  OMG - I am out of tupperware because I can't find any that matches because P has, shall we say, reorganized the kitchen.  I think he's stashed silverware around the apartment.  With the tupperware.    The crib mobile?  In pieces.  He turns many things into phones (speaking of phones!) - usually none of those things are actually phones.  My favorite thing today was that he has started answering the "phone" like an adult...but in toddler-speak..."Aaah-oooh?"  That means "Hello?"  Yeah.  Stupid adorable.

He said "hug" today, too, followed by an actual hug!  I sense a word influx right around the corner.  But then, he never has been predictable, so who the hell knows.  Certainly not I.

Discipline...y'know what?  Nevermind.  I think that needs a whole post.

Anyway, point of post having been covered, I am off to take meds and pass out.  With perhaps bisquits with butter and honey in the middle....Nomnomnom

Bad Blogger

I'm still here, I promise.

I had a really difficult time transitioning home this time, I think I may have mentioned that last time.  I'm not sure.  Anyway, what it means is that my anxiety was through the roof for a couple of weeks and I was a useless lump of flesh.

And just as I'm starting to get my mojo back, P has started boycotting bedtime.  He will scream for an hour without giving up.  He has decided 10 pm is bedtime.  This is no bueno.  But try telling him that.  We are completely at a loss.  Not a fan of the phase, but oh, well!  He is making so many other leaps!

Real words are sooooo coming.  So close.  He has several regular phrases, but I haven't the foggiest idea what they mean.  He sings along with "Cat In The Hat".  He has added "Naaa" (Nana) to his list of names.  When he is excited about what he is playing with he sings "whoa whoa whoa whoa" over and over again.  It's this sing-song sort of thing.  Also does "Go! Go!"  Among other things.  Nothing super solid, like I said, but soooo close.

My therapy is going well.  And I'm awaiting my case manager assignment.  I really am looking forward to that.  It's like free help to get our shit together.  Kinda.  We sure as hell need it.

Also adjusting to Hubby being home still a bit, but now working.

Really, it's been constant change since I got home, which is part of what has made the transition difficult.

I've been brain dead.  This post isn't even remotely interesting.  I just needed to get something up to try to get myself back into it.

Going to try to get myself back up and blogging really soon!

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Friday, September 21, 2012

Mom: I heard through the FB grapevine that your breakdown last week was due to a pregnancy announcement.
Me: Well, multiple, but yes.
Mom:  Well, your sister is pregnant.  You can choose to handle it gratiously...

And that's one of the last things I remember.

I remember taking extra pills.  I remember carving into my arm.  I remember downing 2 tumblers of wine. I remember manically cleaning the bathroom.  My best friend had just arrived.  I was banging around.  I got on FB and started deleting all family members of any sort from my friend list since one of them had obviously blabbed.  My husband panicked and called my mother over.  I told Hubby he might as well just take me to Horsham after he said something...no recollection of what it might have been.

My mom tailed me around the apartment.  I told her off repeatedly.  She wouldn't leave me alone.

I packed a bag and insisted I be taken to the hospital.  We went into the crisis center but once they found out I had OD'd again I was moved to the ER.  The next 8 hours or so in the ER are a total blur.  Horsham wouldn't take me until I was coherent.  Apparently I was a horrid patient.  Not entirely surprising.  I was heavily self-medicated, angry, upset...I am a mean, mean drunk when I drink to self-medicate.

I made it 3 weeks exactly.  21 days.  21 days in normal life.  I spent a week "on the inside" this time.  I suppose I have more stories to tell.  Though I'm finding it a more difficult transition this time.  Today was my 3rd full day home.  It took me this long to get on here and post at least this much.  I promise - I PROMISE - that I will tell you more.

Until then, hug the ones you love.  Count your blessings.