Archive of ‘Hissues’ category

It’s So Loud Inside My Head

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So, we’re stiiiiiiill waiting.

Since learning about our male factor issues, we’ve kind of been on hold.  The preliminary moves in the urology department have basically just included a repeat of all the tests that were required from the original visits to the fertility center.  The fertility center can’t move forward until we have clear answers from urology on the issues they determine, and the urologist can’t move forward until our insurance approves everything.  There is a lot of back and forth, (and copays), between primary care doctors, specialists, and test centers.

And I’m annoyed.  For a few reasons.

An Ass Out of U & ME

I’m irked that we fell for the okey doke and relied soo heavily on the issues we knew I had, rather than looking into the male factor issues sooner.  The sheer intensity of my PCOS and thyroid complications led us all, (doctors included), to assume that it just had to be only me at the root of this crap.  I’m annoyed at myself for not “going wit my first mind”, and being thorough.

My Timeline is Askew

I’m irritated that there really is nothing I can do right now but wait.  Again.  I’m non-essential personnel at the urologist.  If I want to know what step we’re on, I have to pry the information out of the spouse’s one-word answers.  LOL  Not that he’s being a jerk about anything, but I’ve been the captain of this ship for oh, about six, seven years now…so to not know our itinerary, is eating me alive.  Like for real, can I at LEAST be in charge of the drinks on the lido deck or something?

No, Really. My Timeline is Jacked Up.

It’s March, people.  MARCH.  aka Third month of the year.  aka, even if I do get pregnant this year, I still might don’t have a kid until 2015.  So in my mind, it’s March, and I’ve lost yet another year.  Go me.  Cue the band.

It’s Exhausting.

It is extremely tiring to go to work every day, or do assignments, or just “be”, when you really want to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket, grab a trashy novel and a glass of wine, and just stop being an adult for like 45 minutes.  I’m kind of over adulthood lately.  It is NOT keeping up its end of the bargain.  Or at least not from what I saw when I was watching television and reading books as a young girl.  I mean, we should be living in a hip urban brownstone, working freelance jobs at swanky companies, hosting dinner parties, and on our second “accidental” pregnancy right now, right?  I mean, at least that’s what Thursday night lineups of years gone by said.  It’s literally exhausting trying to keep the thoughts of your real mind, from seeping out.  I don’t want people to know how much of my day is in this mental place, but should the opportunity to speak my truth come about in everyday conversation, I can’t really lie and say I’d know how to stop myself.

So as usual, I’ve just decided to stay busy, busy, busy. All this noise and thought running rampant in my head, has to come out sometime, and hopefully it may benefit you. Stay tuned for more info, including some very special events/blog posts for National Infertility Awareness Week 2014!

In the meantime, check out this month’s Sister2Sister Magazine for an article on Egg Freezing, The Egg has a brief mention.  Thank you Shahida Muhammad for thinking of me!

March 2014 Sister 2 Sister

 

Featured image courtesy of stockimages/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Out My Mind, Just in Time…

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The great Erykah Badu has a song called “Out My Mind, Just In Time”, where she laments, for close to eleven minutes about losing herself in a man she thought she loved, and how she gave more of herself to him, than she even gave to herself.  It’s a beautiful song, really, that drifts in and out of changes that reflect the growth and depth of this over-thought and overwrought relationship.

And while she is clearly talking about a man who wasn’t worth the stress, this is a feeling I had about my own damn self recently.  That I had been in a relationship with myself and my feelings about infertility for some time now, at the expense of my husband’s feelings.  A relationship that it was clearly time to move on from.

There are things that you get to be selfish about in this journey.

You get to be frustrated when the medicines don’t work.

You get to be annoyed when you have to have a painful procedure that no one else could possibly understand.

You get to be angry when you’ve spent six months losing weight to prepare for IVF, only for the hormones to put the weight back on.

You get that.

But,…

You don’t get to be so wrapped up in those feelings, that you forget to think about your actual wellbeing and progress, OR that you forget to think about any person who is on the journey with you.

It is very easy to assume, after going through so very much, that you are the only one who gets this. You and the other women who have had the pleasure of enduring shots, and invasive procedures, are the ONLY ones who can truly understand your particular pain.  Your loving, but clueless partner has no idea what you really feel like.

He is not hurting in the way that you are.  How could he be?  The most he had to do was get friendly with himself.

And can he rattle off the names, addresses, and phone numbers of the doctors, nurses, and phlebotomists?
I didn’t think so.
That means he doesn’t give a damn about it.

Can he quote you the appointment dates for the next three appointments?
I knew it.
He’s practically not even in the game.

But, as we start to think those thoughts, here’s the thing though…

Did we ASK?

Did we ASK him how he felt about everything?

Have you ever really thought about how it feels to him that he can’t make you know how sufficient you are to him, when you’re basing every piece of your worth on this?

Or how hard it must be for him to not know what to say when you’re gushing the details of how you feel, out of fear that you’ll only tell him he doesn’t understand, or that you won’t listen when he tells his own feelings?

Or how terribly, terribly embarrassing and uncomfortable it is to do something so private and intimate, and know that everyone in that clinic/office knows what you’re doing?

Granted, most of what we do as women in this area, is invasive and humiliating.  Just getting through the preliminary workups, our pocketbook, as my grandmother would call it, is known from here to West Leviticus, and has made happy times with many an ultrasound wand or speculum.  But to be honest, as women, we are somewhat familiar with the stirrups.  For a man, so much of this has to be new and fast, and terrifying.

The more I started to think about that, the worse I felt.

I had made this entire thing, about me. I want this so badly, and I am so very tired of waiting, that I have become incredibly sad but ridiculously headstrong.  I will not waiver, because I feel like I cannot, even if it is just to stop and acknowledge that he’s lost his footing.  I will drag us both over the finish line before I stop at this point.

And worse still, I’ve been so very tight-lipped about my feelings with everyone else, that he was catching ALL of it.  All the frustration, and the angst, and the polarizing aggression.  I was pouring everything onto him and leaving absolutely no room for him to feel anything of his own.

I was ashamed.

And as usual these days, that emotion led right back to anger.

I was angry that this stupid, stupid thing had once again made me a monster.  It had made me cold, and irrational, and impatient, and…

Wait.

I was doing it again.

I was back in my head, making everything about me.  Making every emotion I was feeling, the fault of something or someone else.  It was my pity party, and I wanted to just cry and cry.

I couldn’t let myself off that easy.  I was wrong.  Point blank and the period.

I was wrong for being in my head.  I was wrong for internalizing everything to the point of insanity.  I was wrong for stealing his voice and swallowing it into my own.

So I apologized.

So why am I telling you this?  You’re a perfectly respectable infertile, right?  You handle your stresses far better than I do, and would never dream of making your partner feel isolated and forgotten. Right?

I know.

But just in case you ever find yourself being the raging lunatic I discovered I was capable of being, remember these words I said to myself:

GET OUT OF YOUR HEAD

The worst battles we will ever fight, take place in our minds.  We play the hero and the villain.  We project words and actions and even thoughts onto those around us, based on our own insecurities and fears.  We lose sight of reality, and sometimes our partners pay the price.

This path is exhausting, and scary, and rough, and a whole heap of other adjectives I could throw in.  I am grateful that I don’t have to move down it by myself.  I have to remember to appreciate and acknowledge that, before I ostracize the person who is walking beside me.

Get out of your head.  Quickly.  See things for what they actually are.

If he honestly isn’t doing everything in his power to really be on the journey with you, then say so. Don’t yell it or accuse it.  Address it.

If you discover, however, that you just weren’t seeing the full picture, because you were too busy writing a new script in your head, then address that too.  Apologize, and move on.

I know, I know.

This is just me.  You are perfectly clear-headed, and in control of your thoughts and emotions these days, right?  You would absolutely, positively just never, ever, be this person.  I know.

Right?

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Featured image courtesy of David Castillo Dominici, / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

The Best of Times…The Worst of Times

I warn you, not to watch this.
And yet I have to share it.
A father breaks down while explaining one of the hardest points in his life. Attending to the very real pain of grief during the day, and wading through a career as a comedian at night.
It is a heart-wrenching story.
But I have to share it.
Because this is the EXACT feeling I have been trying to convey for months now.  This feeling that everything is going swell, and yet going horribly all at once.
The feeling of knowing that although something is dying in our lives, we still have to go to work.
Even as something is passing away in us, we still have to communicate.
All the while something is breaking us down,  we have to express joy in the “good” things that have come our way in the meantime.
And nobody knows what is really happening underneath.
When this video ended, I was in tears.
Not just for HIS pain.
But because he understood mine.

For the past 9 months, EVERY DAY has been an up and down roller-coaster of feelings.
I go into the doctor’s office in the morning and hear no good news, I get to work in the afternoon and get praised for something.
I excel in my social obligations on the weekends, I spend the weeknights curled in my bed.
I am kicking life’s ass personally and professionally, and it is kicking mine emotionally and physically.

And no one gets it!  You can write it out,  talk until you’re blue, draw a diagram, and people will still want you at work in the morning, at church on Sunday, and at their party/babyshower/ladies night on Saturday.  They placate you with soft “Oh, you poor thing”‘s and emoticon you with (((hugs))), but they don’t actually get it.

All they know is that you’re in a pissy mood.  All they see is that you didn’t show up to that thingamajig.  All they know is that you aren’t yourself.

There is an INCREDIBLE isolation felt.  A dynamic feeling that life is interfering with life.  That you can’t be YOU.  That life will NOT slow down and let you get your breath because you aren’t entitled to that.  You just keep riding downhill in this car, even-though you know the brakes are out, and you can only pray that there is a gentle tree to stop the incline.

I finally reached a break in my menorrhagia last week.  I had my body to myself for about four days and then promptly got food poisoning.  LOL  Because that’s how fly I am.   But overall, I’m in somewhat of a better place.  I’m a little less snarky this week.  I feel a tiny piece of joy returning to my workday.   I don’t want to retreat from human contact nearly as much.

And I’m grateful for that.

But I know that it’s only a matter of time before things start rolling down that hill again.  And I’m going to have to get up and come to work, and make teenagers happy (oh, the horror), and care about eating food during the day, and make myself respond to phone calls and text messages, and make myself smile at photos, and encourage myself to listen when people talk to me.

Only this time, this video will be in my head.  And I’ll be trying to make myself also remember that while I’m dying, so is the person in front of me.  The cashier at the grocery store.  The attendant at the gas station.  That friend of mine.  And yes, even the comedian on my television screen.

You NEVER know what someone is going through.

So treat EVERYONE with the same care and compassion that YOU need.

Private Parts

Back when I was still engaged, a fellow bride shared some wisdom from one of her elder family members.   It was a list of things every new wife should do to keep house.   There, nestled alongside gems like “Never go to bed angry”, was this little nugget,

“Your husband should never know when you are having your feminine time.  Keep those things private!”

Oh really?  Well whoopdee freakin do.  What stellar advice.  With tips like these, who needs Dear Abby? (more…)

Transparent

I’m in an awkward, awkward state of affairs at the moment.

While most bloggers and writers suffer from writer’s block and the feeling of having “nothing to say”, I’m feeling quite the opposite, but with similar results.  Not only do I have things to say, but I have too many things to say.  There are tons of tales and stories of the epic battle between my feelings and my progress, as well as a few scandalous rants that I just want to unleash.  Yet, I spend the wee hours of the morning writing to you about what I want to write, rather than just writing it.  Odd, huh?

You're Still Talking?

It is often hard for me to find clarity when my thoughts overlap and interfere with each other, and I’d rather not subject you to that.  Truthfully, I’m becoming a bit unnerved by the amount of things that I’m subjecting mySELF to. LOL  The transparency for which this blog has gained its momentum is not as easy a feat to uphold as some may think.  It is dreadfully hard for me to decide what to share boldly, and what to let fester in the corners of my mind for fear that I’ll run you guys all away.

For instance, (more…)

Musical Therapy: You Are My Man

Okay…this one threw me for a loop.  First of all, the melody is intoxicating and Tamar Davis sings her FACE OFF.  As usual, I’m looking at something that has nothing to do with infertility when something drives itself home.  This time, it was Tyler Perry’s newest play “Madea’s Big Happy Family”.

As I listened to the words, I started to seriously think on how our attitudes begin to clash as we go through fertility issues.  Many times our spouses and partners fall directly in the line of our fire as we battle disappointment, despair and utter frustration.  This song, sung to a spouse who has been just that kind of victim, was powerful.

I’m sharing it as today’s musical therapy because I think that listening to it can truly make one realize where they may be not giving their partner the respect and admiration they deserve.  As a final dose of Kujichagulia, I’m taking it as my cue to watch my tone and my actions.  Take it and learn from it,…and after that, listen to it again because as I said Ms.Davis is singing her entire hair off.

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Lyrics:

Why is it so hard to get over your past? Why am I still hurting?

Why does this anger last?  If you would help me, I will try to help me too. Just dont leave me, I wont make it without you.

I-I-I-I-I get so mad. I take it out on you. I know you wanna help me with all the wrong I’ve done to you! All you wanna do is love me! But I keep pushing you away. All you ever done is cared for me and I say no please go, away. I-I-I don’t know why, why you love-ove-ove me.

But I’m so glad you do, you do-o-o-o-o Thank you for putting up with me And all the things I put you through, ohhhh.

I get so sad and mean towards you. But just hold me until the moment is through.

Oh You are my man, My real Good Man. So strong for me. My one true friend. You are my man. My lover man. Don’t give up on me.

Please understand!

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