due mesi

8 weeks. Eight weeks was all I got.
 And I really thought this was it, ya know?

I was trying not to get excited, but even at last week's ultrasound I was happy to see the heartbeat. And even though it was slow I was hoping things would pick up.

Dr. K asked me if I wanted to look at the monitor while he looked and I said no. But I peeked and could see that he was trying too hard to find the little pulse that was so easy to find last week.

I've been trying to keep my mind off things, but I find myself getting sad if left alone too long with my thoughts.

I'm taking a break after this. I need to focus on me for a little bit. If I were happier with myself would I have better luck?

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un giorno da dimenticare

So this is what it feels like to lose someone you love.
Wow.
Today, it feels like my world slipped away.
I know I shouldn't care or wonder where and how you are.
But I can't hide the hurt inside my broken heart.
But I know I'm not supposed to love you anymore.

"I'll find so many things to do that I won't have the time to think of her.
And then if she's still on my mind I'll try to drink enough to drown the hurt.
And if that don't work...

I'll think of something."

You know the funny thing is I still can't bring myself to bite my nails!  That's stupid, right? And all this because you made that remark.

I can't give you what you want right now.

I don't know why I thought I could?

I tried to plan things out, when what I should have done was jumped.  

A leap of faith.

It's true, though, you're better off without me. 

You can focus on school. Fall in love. Work in something you love! Have babies. 

You deserve that more than anyone else I know.

Today you said "there's no one day."  I read that as we were closing up the office in Killeen and my heart dropped.  Yet another reason to add to the "Killeen cons" list.  Nothing good ever comes out of Killeen.

But I don't believe it.  

"I didn't find a perfect moment, because I think that today was just about just having today. And I think that we are one of those couples with a long story, when people ask how they found each other. 

I will see her every now and then, and... 

Maybe one year she'll be with somebody, and the next year, I'll be with somebody, 

and it's gonna take a long time... 

And then it's perfect. 

I'm in no rush."

The love that I have for you isn't something that will fade.  If anything, it's allowed me to see the changes I need to make. To be happier with myself. To be happier with life, eventhough it feels impossible right now. 

I feel sad, lost, angry. At one point I was trying to rationalize things and thought, "He doesn't mean it.  It's like pushing someone away when you don't want to. Tough Love." But as I sit here writing, my heart is aching becos I know that's not the truth, is it?

One day, I hope to see you.  

I hope to see you smiling back at me.  

I hope to look into your kind eyes and see my good friend. 

But until then, I'll wait. 

Even if it takes another lifetime. 

abbracci

Tuesday was a short day at the office.  I still needed to schedule my follow up to surgery, but managed to put it off the past week.  I figured I would have to wait till the following week, but luckily, Dr. K had an opening. His mom fit me in to the afternoon schedule and it was a great visit!

I've mentioned in a previous post that Dr. K is my cheerleader.  His attitude and disposition is something that gives me hope.  When he walked in to the exam room he greeted me with a friendly "HI!" and a bear hug.  I like hugs.  It made me feel more like a friend/family as opposed to a regular patient.  

Earlier, when I was waiting in the lobby I had sent Maund a text: 

"Don't be mad, but I got out early today and Dr. K had an opening. Sorry." 

I know he wanted to be there for this appointment, but deep down I really feel it's becos he's more interested in skipping work than the issue at hand.  

"I'll take good notes. I promise :)"

First, Dr. K reviewed my questions and symptoms following the procedure.  Since everything seemed fine, I was released from restrictions which included no blood thinners, no vaginal activity, and no exercising/strenuous activity.  Second, we reviewed the findings of the procedure.  The results were just as expected, a benign polyp. Finally, we reviewed a new plan of action.

1. Continue prenatal vitamins

2. Call on the first day - full flow of my next menstrual cycle

3. Start a baby aspirin regimen (81mg/day)

4. Start Clomid to prime my follicles

5. Ovidrel injection to release egg(s)

6. Start Progesterone supplement

7. Weekly ultrasound to check development until Week 10

8. Transfer to my regular Ob/Gyn **Fingers Crossed**

I'm good with this plan.  I feel revitalized and ready to take on the world!  This is a completely different story from Monday.

Monday morning, my in-laws had joined Ang at her ultrasound to determine the sex of the baby.  All weekend long we took bets and the consensus was that she was having a girl.  So when my mother-in-law phoned me Monday morning, I was surprised when she said, "Well, it's a boy!"  I asked her to congratulate Ang and went about my day off.  I didn't have anything planned, but I decided to go shopping for things I don't need but have wanted and put off for awhile.  I found 1 thing on my list and the rest of my trip was pretty much a bust.  I was disappointed.

Back at home, I started over analyzing everything.  I started getting really angry and cried a little.  I was jealous and felt like the world was conspiring against me. Why is Ang pregnant? Why does Ang get to have the February/March/April baby? Why does Ang get a boy? In all honesty, I've always wanted a baby boy.  I have nothing but boy names picked out. I have 1....ONE girl name.  I sound crazy, I know.  I sound like a whiny, self-centered bitch. I know! I told myself I would just swallow these horrible thoughts and leave it alone, but I can't.  It's killing me not to be able to speak my mind.  I feel now like I can't be choosey or express what I want, like I have to settle for what's given to me.  It just makes me angry! 

This is how it was supposed to happen: 

Maund is the first born and we were supposed to have the first grandchild.  It really didn't matter what we had as long as we were first.  IF we didn't have the first grandchild then the only way to redeem ourselves was to have a boy to carry on his last name.  Now since the first grandchild is gonna be a boy coming from their only daughter, that means if we want our kid to be loved and showered with gifts equally then we have to have a girl.  And that's probably what's gonna happen.  I'll have a girl and give her a boy's name becos I hate female names.  I don't want a girl.  I've always wanted a boy.  I can work with a girl. 

I know it will be different once I'm pregnant and bonding with the baby, but ugh, I'm so mad!!!! Just thinking about this is frustrating.  Maybe I should give up and adopt.  

Yep, that's what I'll do.  Male Asian baby, it is!

desideri e domande

Here I am.  The eve of my 30th birthday and I feel like a failure.

I'm having a 3/4 of a mid-life crisis, which is funny becos nowadays people go through mid mid-life crisis. I guess mine just didn't hit me till now.  

I went to bed last night overthinking, overanalyzing my birthday.  At Thanksgiving, I had made it clear that for my 30th birthday I wanted a dinner with my closest friends and family.  My birthday would also have to...HAVE TO...include mariachis in a charismatically lit backyard serenading the guests and myself.   I even wanted my husband's family there.  Come Christmastime, I had reiterated my desire for a dinner and mariachis.  At Maund's cousin's wedding there were mariachis who went from table to table taking requests and AGAIN I expressed my birthday plan.  

So imagine my surprise when my husband approached me Monday, August 1, 2011, asking what I wanted to do for my birthday.  Three days before my birthday!  I hate to admit it, but I'm pretty sure that a tiny piece of my heart died at that moment.  That's an intense thing to say, right? I know, but I've noticed that this year has caused that to happen in me.  I do my best not to let things get to me, but I feel that I try so hard to please other people that I expect the same from them.  I have such high expectations and when they don't follow through I take it personally.  It hurts.  This experience felt like cramming for a test.  You've had all this time to thoroughly prepare for the SATs, but instead you procrastinate until the week of the exam and say, "Well, we could hav a BBQ and invite some people." What does that do? A BBQ is not a 1400 test score.  A BBQ is the credit you get for bubbling in your name on the score sheet. I plan all of my birthdays.  I plan events for other friends.  I help in the orchestration of other events.  I cook Thanksgiving meals.  I cook Christmas meals.  I plan Easter holidays. I bake birthday cakes and attempt to decorate them with other than frosting to coat them.  I wanted someone to care for me.  I wanted someone to say, "I know you've had possibly the worst year of your life, so far.  From Aug 2010 to now, not only have you experienced change, but you've had to endure many losses.  Neither loss is greater than the other, but each loss equally as painful. Let's celebrate you and start a new year with hope and joy."  I want to have a happy event.  I didn't want a consolation prize.  I wanted a well thought out plan.

I look back and think about what I've written and it sounds selfish.  I'm a Leo.  It's in my nature to want to be the center of attention, but that's not really me.  I have a tendency to want to take care of other people.  I have a tendency to protect others.  So maybe this is the selfish, self-centered side coming out in this entry.

This was the kind of toy I got for my birthday.

I started thinking about my childhood and realized that I never had a birthday party.  You're probably wondering, "how is that possible?" or "c'mon, everyone has parties!" Nope.  I have a picture of my 3rd or 4th birthday.  My mom had bought me a new shirt and had baked a cake.  In the picture, there is a Cabbage Patch Kids Talking Phone next to me and my cake as I'm about to blow out the candles.  I remember that day becos I got chocolate frosting all over my shirt and got upset.

I'm guessing that my other birthdays were like that, but I can't remember any of them.  There was never a planned party at McDonald's, Pizza Hut, or Chuck E. Cheese.  There were never house parties with nifty party favors or cartoon themed plates, cups, napkin.  It wasn't until my 18th birthday that a couple of people took notice of the lack of celebration. Barbara, my hometown bestfriend, knew that my family wasn't as well off as hers, but she never ceased to surprise me.  She never missed a birthday or grand event.  For my 18th birthday, she showed up at my door and presented me with a little gift.  She then kidnapped me and said that becos I was now 'legal' it was my mission to buy a pack of cigarettes and porn.  Those were the rights bestowed upon me as an American and that's what we did.  Later that day, I called over to the Garcia's house to see who wanted to hang out.  Wilbur and Bern were brothers and the sons of my Spanish teacher.  We had gotten close and hung out just about every single day that summer.  We played guitars, they taught me chords, they schooled me on classic rock and singer/songwriters from the 60s and 70s, how to exercise, play sports, run, tried to teach me how to cook.  They were only 4 and 6 years older than I was, but we connected on so many levels and I learned a lot from those two.  Bern picked up and mentioned he had just gotten out of work.  Since we were "new" friends, the brothers didn't know when my birthday was, nor did I know theirs. We chatted for awhile and he asked me what I did that day.  I mentioned that Barbara had taken me to go buy cigarettes and porn and he laughed.  He got quiet for a moment and then asked if it was my birthday.  I acknowledge that today was indeed my 18th and he asked what I was doing to celebrate.  Bern wasn't satisfied with my response and said, "I'd like to take you out. Get dressed! Get ready! We're going to the Riverwalk!"  That was the thing to do, go celebrate in San Anto' which is an hour away.  I had so much fun that night.  I got wined and dined and treated important.  Well, not exactly, maybe soda'd and dined would be a better term.  It was a great night and a nice ending to what would have otherwise been a disastrous birthday.

Since then, I try to plan events for my birthdays. Dinner with friends, drinks, maybe go to a club.  Maybe that's why I was hoping that this one would be different.  That someone would want to take care of me.

I thought about all of this as I was trying to go to sleep.  I started crying silently in the dark and it was a little difficult to stop, but through all of that, I never once woke up my husband.  This got me thinking about other things. The night before I had finished reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and I wondered if I had given up on my own Personal Legend?  When I was younger I had many dreams that I thought I would fulfill.  I never had a time frame, but these were things that I wanted to do.  Now that I'm 3/4 of the way to the halfway mark of my lifespan, it scares me.  What do I have to show for this?  I graduated high school.  I graduated from university.  I lived in Italy. I worked for a non-profit. I'm married.  I have a house and mortgage.  We own 2 cars and will be done paying off a 3rd soon.  We have a cat and 2 dogs.  That seems like a lot, but I want more.  And I felt like the shittiest person in the world becos when I think about my dreams and fantasies, I'm always alone.  I never see my husband in these visions.  I had toyed with the idea of skydiving for our wedding anniversary and found out before booking that Maund is scared of heights.  How did I not know that?  In all the time that I've known him, I just found this out last year.  One dream I have is hiking through the Dolomites and when I close my eyes to envision it, he's not there.  When I was younger, I wanted to be an epidemiologist, but that would require more schooling.  In honing my skills, I realized that I wanted to become a Foreign Services Officer, but to really be considered for a position I would need my masters degree.  And really, that's probably the minimum requirement.  So I definitely need to go back to school and practice my languages more.  Maybe even learn 2 or 3 more.  But even in this dream, I'm by myself. 

Is he holding me back? Or better yet, do I want an excuse so that I don't have to take credit for not fulfilling my Personal Legend?  I would have no one to blame but myself.  Do I still have time to fulfill my Personal Legend or is it too late? I assume I need to do this on my own.  It's a personal journey, but how do I realize my dream when I'm attached to someone else?  And not just someone else, but a complete life which includes hundreds of possessions, a mortgage, and furry friends.  

I would love to find a genie in a lamp.  I could make a couple of changes.

Or better yet, turn back time to one significant moment and change it.  I thought about this last night and I know what that moment would be.  I would go back to the 6th grade and forget about my crush on Colin.  I think that would have changed things dramatically.  It would have saved me a lot of grief growing up in a small town.

I feel awful for having these thoughts.  I feel disgusted for asking these questions.  Honestly, this is the only forum where I can get these thoughts out.  But my biggest fear is that now that I've asked these questions, do I need to answer them or do I continue with life as I know it, ignoring the desires of my heart?  Am I too afraid of answering these questions?

nervosa e più arrabbiata

I was nervous going to see Dr. K Wednesday morning.  I had a 09:00 appointment to consult on our plan of action.  Dr. K mentioned that most consider one miscarriage a fluke, but when you have 2 in a row, you need to consider all your causes. 

1. Hormonal imbalance - if I was lacking the necessary hormones, I would be put on vaginal medication supplemented with a baby aspirin to help blood flow. 

2. Poor cell division - plain and simple...shit happens.

3. Environment/Lifestyle - hazardous environment, crazy heroin-chic lifestyle...not the case

4. Uterine abnormalities - fibroid, cysts, polyp, septum...surgical removal increases chances of fertility.

Last time we spoke, he mentioned performing a Hysterosalpingogram (HSG) or Saline Infusion Sonogram (SIS).  The HSG is performed at a radiology center by injecting a contrast dye into the uterus.  It's supposed to give a good view not only of the uterus, but also the fallopian tubes.  The SIS is performed in the office by injecting sterile saline into the uterus and, at the same time, performing an ultrasound. The saline shows up as a black area in the sonogram and allows the doctor to view any abnormalities through that contrast.  And yesterday Dr. K made a good argument.  He said, "I would hate to start the process again and have another miscarriage knowing that it could have been prevented."

I went into this consult not knowing what to expect.  I thought he would sit me down and warn me about  another miscarriage and then prescribe Clomid again. That didn't happen.  I was antsy and blurted out, "Do you have time to do the SIS today? I have the day off and I don't mind waiting all day or leaving and coming back. My only concern is cost becos I now have a high deductible plan and I'm pretty sure they won't cover infertility."  I could see that he was speechless.  He asked if I needed to think about things and he didn't want to pressure me into any procedure. I told him I was eager to get started and that if this test would help me, us, go into this next pregnancy with a clear mind, then it was necessary.

He stepped out of the room and his mom came in to discuss finances.  Just as I suspected, my insurance didn't offer any coverage and I would have to pay the private pay fee of $450.  I was ready to pay it, but my first thought was, "I could have a first trimester abortion with IV sedation for the same cost as this ultrasound!" Once I laughed it off (in my mind) his mom discussed that since our doctors were good friends and since a close friend of theirs referred me that I would be getting a discount.  I was ever so grateful and hugged her and by now it was 10:00.  I waited in the lobby for 30 mins, but I could see that more and more patients were showing up for their appointments.  The receptionist asked if I could come back at 13:30 for the SIS.  I said sure and went home to eat some lunch.  

This whole time, Maund had called in sick to work and was nice enough to take my car in for it's inspection...2 months overdue, hehehe. At home I briefed him on the consult and told him about the ultrasound at 13:30.  He offered to come with and I declined.  I was told I could drive myself home.  I decided to take 800mg of Ibuprofen at 12:45 and hoped for the best.  

I arrived 10 mins early, just to be on the safe side and was put into an exam room to undress from the waist down.  I waited a little until Dr. K and his assistant came in.  I lied down on the exam table and had to sit my bottom near the edge.  He inserted the speculum, which was surprisingly uncomfortable, and that discomfort was unusual for me.  I never have any issues, but that day I guess I did.  Once the speculum was in and open he placed some betadine at the cervix along with a tiny balloon slash catheter.   After that was in place he removed the speculum and then inserted the ultrasound probe.  That's when the real fun began.  He started to inject the saline into my uterus and I felt some mild cramping.  It took all of 5 mins, but towards the end the cramping became moderate.  The whole time I kept on visualizing someone filling up a water balloon.  My uterus was a balloon getting inflated with water, except this balloon had nerves and a mind of its own and didn't want to inflate.  When it was all over, I sat up and had a waterfall coming out of my vagina.  Even before we began I asked, "So you're putting water in my uterus.  Are you gonna take it out?"  He chuckled and mentioned that some of the saline would absorb into the body if it escaped through the fallopian tubes, but the rest would drain afterwards and residual saline would also leak for the next day or two.  

Dr. K and the assistant stepped out for a moment to let me get dressed and he came back to discuss the findings.  What he showed me was not what I was expecting.  I assumed my issues stemmed from some kind of hormone deficiency, not a mass in my uterus.  He showed me 3 uterine/endometrial polyps. Two were small and barely noticeable, then he showed me the one prominent polyp.  He explained that most polyps were benign and rarely cancerous, but if removed we would send a sample out for testing.  I wasn't too familiar with polyps so I asked what it was.  Was it a mass of tissue or more like a cyst filled with liquid? How do we get rid of them? Medications? Surgery? Once removed, will they grow back?  Have there been women who successfully carry a pregnancy with polyps? 

Yes, it's a mass. If cancerous, a hysterectomy is performed. To remove polyps he suggests surgery, not a  D&C, but an outpatient day surgery under general anesthesia.  From what I understood, he would lasso the polyp and slice it off.  I pictured a tiny lasso made of piano wire.  I would be completely under and return to work the following day.  My restrictions would include nothing inserted vaginally for 2 weeks, then we could start medications and attempt conceiving once again.  Dr. K mentioned that the removal would increase my chances of a successful pregnancy.  He said, "I don't worry you won't get pregnant, we just need to keep you pregnant."

All this was just the consult and test.  I cried a little during the consult.  I cried a little during the results.  I now had to think about Dr. K's fees, facility fees, anesthesiologist fees.  What ball park am I looking at? $2,700 or more like $22,000? The ambulatory/surgical center gave me an estimate of ~$3,300, Dr. K said ~$1,400 but his mom said she would give me a discount, now I have to check with the anesthesiologist. 

The other option is to take Clomid anyway and hope that I don't miscarry again.  But even with the surgery there's no guarantee that I won't miscarry.  There's no guarantee that I won't have to do the surgery again.  Most women who experience polyps are in their 40s and 50s.  I know I joke that I'm an old woman, but this really takes the cake! 

I sobbed all the way home.  I sobbed when I saw my husband.  I sobbed for a good part of the afternoon until I cried myself to sleep.  I woke up shortly and watched TV and started feeling not so defeated and then dozed off again.  I woke up to Maund's phone ringing and all I heard was, "nothing, just watching TV...*silence*...tabrik," and he got up and walked out the back door.  I picked my head up and stared at the back door.  I waited awhile for him to come in and when he did he refused to look at me.  I asked, "what's up?" He said Ang, his sister, had called.  He hesitated badly and said, "I guess she's 8 weeks pregnant." I held it together as long as I could, but it was no use.  I cried and cried.  I was so angry! I saw red and other crazy colors. I eventually calmed down and called her back to tell her congrats, but she didn't pick up.

After awhile of over-thinking I got mad becos I just partied with her on Friday and she didn't say a goddamn thing!  If she had told me any other day prior to Wed, I would have been fine.  Why did she wait for the one day when I find out that my struggle to have a baby that began in 2008 still has no end in sight?!?!?! And why does she get to have the Feb/Mar/Apr baby I have been dying to have?  She knew very well that May/Jun/Jul were my target conception months!  

I'M JUST SO ANGRY! Am I such a shitty person that this keeps on happening? Why? What did I do? What lesson am I supposed to learn?  Is this survival of the fittest? Are my genes not supposed to live on? I don't get it!!! What's the point? I told Maund I wanted a divorce.  I told him it would be best.  He could find someone with better genes and continue his legacy.  I told him it would probably be cheaper in the long run to adopt or be okay with the idea of being the spinster aunt and uncle.  I told him I didn't want a baby anymore.

He smiled and hugged me and said divorce was outta the question.  He said he wanted a baby with me and knew that so did I. He said adoption was way too expensive and didn't care if he had to apply for more credit cards or a loan or borrow against the house in order to have this surgery.  He said, "MAN UP! We're gonna have a baby, you just have to be optimistic!"

I just hate to be dependent on credit.  I wanted to pay down my debt and get a new car and then help my husband pay down his card. I don't want to delay things any more and it feels like a gigantic clock is ticking away the seconds.  Going along with Maund's advice and the macho theme, I guess if we're gonna do this, we're going balls out. There's no other way.