Another rough week. It's interesting... I find the desire to write during/after particularly shitty points in my life.
I think the stress of turning 29 this week has thrown everything out of whack. Sure... I'll put the blame on that. Another year, "another trip around the sun" says Facebook. When I look back, I'm not met with any real major milestones to be brutally honest. The insignificant portion of my consciousness that exercises optimism searches for the positive points, but it is significantly outnumbered by the negative. Everything is kind of at a standstill life-wise. Hopefully I'll look back at this entry later and be able to argue from a different frame of mind, but right now this is what you get...
The past week has dealt some blows - crippling back pain like I have never felt before, the inability to exercise when I clearly need it the most, approaching holidays without my nephew or a chance to see my sick dad, questions about my current workplace/profession/career, and a birthday steadily approaching that signifies yet another year I was unable to become a mother.
The last point hits hard. It has been a long 6.5 years to wait for something that might never arrive. Bryan has developed a new strategy to deal with the prying public when asked about kids. Luckily anyone close enough to be comfortable with asking me knows my struggle and anyone who doesn't gets a swift "I can't have kids" to end the conversation. Bryan, on the other hand, argues the purpose of children and questions the individual about why he just has to have them. I know he just does that to make me feel less like I'm single handedly ruining his life, and it works.
I have begged him not to "surprise" me with some awkward social gathering for my birthday. Turning another year older is hard enough for me, but faking a smile and laughter for hours on top of that when I just want to be alone in bed is mentally excruciating. It has already been done multiple times in the past (much to my dismay), and I don't regret it after the fact, but this has been a rough year and I can't think of a single reason I would want to celebrate turning 30-1 ---> I have a brutally low paying job with no chance of advancement or pay raise, not to mention I'm grossly underappreciated, overlooked, and stuck there thanks to living in a tiny town, almost 7 years of attempts at a family have failed, my body is slowly breaking down, I probably won't see my dad again before he dies, I haven't seen my nephew in two years, and I'm holding my husband back from a happy life with someone else who doesn't make his life harder every single day.
Here's hoping 2017 will bring some excitement our way. Anything would be nice.
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Friday, November 11, 2016
VEGAN Pumpkin Shakeology Bites
I'll admit it... Vanilla Shakeology is not my favorite.
I bought a bag thinking that I would like the variety involved with having a more neutral shake base, but the vanilla flavor has a punchy taste that doesn't sit well with me. I have tried some pretty promising recipes in attempt to find one that would make the experience tolerable, but in the end it seemed that the $140 bag was going to sit in my cupboard indefinitely....
.... until I had a fantastic idea. I can make some of those shakeology balls with it!! Surely using it as an ingredient would be enough to mask the after taste. I found some recipes and got a basic idea of what to do, but I knew I wanted to change ingredients to vegan versions to fit my current eating plan.
So here it is!
Vegan Pumpkin Shakeology Bites
Ingredients:
1/4 cup Pumpkin Puree
3/4 cup 100% Natural Crunchy Peanut Butter
1/4 cup Maple Syrup
3/4 cup Quick Oats
1 tsp Pumpkin Spice
3 scoops of Vanilla Shakeology
Directions:
1. Combine ingredients in a bowl and roll out into 12(large)-24(small) balls depending on preferred size.
2. Chill in refrigerator, serve cold.
21 Day Fix container counts: 1 Yellow, 1/2 Blue, 1 tsp (per 2 small balls or 1 large ball)
Sunday, October 23, 2016
Living with the guilt that I am the only thing standing between my husband and fatherhood....
Guilt and grief.
Those were the two topics covered at length in my multiple therapy sessions after I was diagnosed with depression caused by my infertility.
Ambiguous grief is a deep and complicated topic that I will eventually dive into, but given recent events (another failed treatment), I'm going to cover guilt today.
My husband is an amazing man. For whatever reason, he continues to hold his position by my side through sickness, health, and all the bullshit in between. We have our differences, as described in previous posts, but I like to think that our understanding of one another is what allows our marriage to continue. That being said, the stress of trying to conceive is like no other and the guilt associated with the struggle can be overwhelming.
Over a decade ago, just before meeting Bryan, I left a pretty serious relationship and was avoiding the potential of any others. I had decided that I was only ever getting involved with a man who I planned to marry and had the ability to be an amazing father. Five years later, I married that man. We were two years into our struggle at that point, but still had hope that it was just taking a little longer for us. Part of me will always wonder that if Bryan could have predicted my infertility when we met, would he have stuck around? Would he have gone looking for someone with a better knack for procreation? We'll never know, but right now he swears that he just wants me and anything more than that is bonus (see... I told you he was amazing).
That doesn't keep me from wanting to scream bloody murder and put my fist through every single wall of our house after failing to conceive with our second IUI. It doesn't keep me from bursting into random sobbing fits in public. It doesn't keep me from trying to drain every bottle of wine in my cupboard completely dry. It doesn't keep me from wanting to tell him I'm leaving so that he can find someone capable of performing the most basic, primal, singular purpose of human existence - procreation.
Knowing that I am the only thing standing between my husband and his ability to father children is a crippling burden that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Watching him interact with children so naturally, seeing how much he loves his niece and nephew, and knowing that his heart aches as much as mine for a son or daughter makes it impossible to feel anything other than agonizing guilt. Every time I flip out over some menial thing or ride his ass about the most ridiculous annoyance, I feel like a psycho because I'm just projecting my anger and frustration from infertility onto him, which isn't fair. It's just one more thing he has to work through thanks to me, which adds to the issue.
I would love to think that I am enough and that we can happily live the DINK (double income, no kids) life, but as long as there is a possibility that one day our unexplained infertility will give us a break and allow a pregnancy, we will always struggle. Time isn't on our side and we don't have another six years to hang out in limbo. If there was some way to know whether or not kids are in our future, things might be easier. Unfortunately we don't have that option.
Luckily we are surrounded by incredibly supportive people who remind me that we are more than our struggle. Infertility isn't what defines me. I have no control over our situation and I need to stay grateful for my husband and the life we have built together, regardless of whether we are Mr & Mrs or Mom & Dad.
Those were the two topics covered at length in my multiple therapy sessions after I was diagnosed with depression caused by my infertility.
Ambiguous grief is a deep and complicated topic that I will eventually dive into, but given recent events (another failed treatment), I'm going to cover guilt today.
My husband is an amazing man. For whatever reason, he continues to hold his position by my side through sickness, health, and all the bullshit in between. We have our differences, as described in previous posts, but I like to think that our understanding of one another is what allows our marriage to continue. That being said, the stress of trying to conceive is like no other and the guilt associated with the struggle can be overwhelming.
Over a decade ago, just before meeting Bryan, I left a pretty serious relationship and was avoiding the potential of any others. I had decided that I was only ever getting involved with a man who I planned to marry and had the ability to be an amazing father. Five years later, I married that man. We were two years into our struggle at that point, but still had hope that it was just taking a little longer for us. Part of me will always wonder that if Bryan could have predicted my infertility when we met, would he have stuck around? Would he have gone looking for someone with a better knack for procreation? We'll never know, but right now he swears that he just wants me and anything more than that is bonus (see... I told you he was amazing).
That doesn't keep me from wanting to scream bloody murder and put my fist through every single wall of our house after failing to conceive with our second IUI. It doesn't keep me from bursting into random sobbing fits in public. It doesn't keep me from trying to drain every bottle of wine in my cupboard completely dry. It doesn't keep me from wanting to tell him I'm leaving so that he can find someone capable of performing the most basic, primal, singular purpose of human existence - procreation.
Knowing that I am the only thing standing between my husband and his ability to father children is a crippling burden that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Watching him interact with children so naturally, seeing how much he loves his niece and nephew, and knowing that his heart aches as much as mine for a son or daughter makes it impossible to feel anything other than agonizing guilt. Every time I flip out over some menial thing or ride his ass about the most ridiculous annoyance, I feel like a psycho because I'm just projecting my anger and frustration from infertility onto him, which isn't fair. It's just one more thing he has to work through thanks to me, which adds to the issue.
I would love to think that I am enough and that we can happily live the DINK (double income, no kids) life, but as long as there is a possibility that one day our unexplained infertility will give us a break and allow a pregnancy, we will always struggle. Time isn't on our side and we don't have another six years to hang out in limbo. If there was some way to know whether or not kids are in our future, things might be easier. Unfortunately we don't have that option.
Luckily we are surrounded by incredibly supportive people who remind me that we are more than our struggle. Infertility isn't what defines me. I have no control over our situation and I need to stay grateful for my husband and the life we have built together, regardless of whether we are Mr & Mrs or Mom & Dad.
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Waiting Game
We're almost half-way through the big "two-week-wait." I think it has been less of a roller coaster than last time. I have kept the google searches to a minimum... mostly focusing on this elevated progesterone anomaly of mine. The more I read about the symptoms of high progesterone, the more I'm convinced that it has been an ongoing issue for a while. Could this have been the cause of our six year battle with unexplained infertility?? Could this finally be our WHY? Of course, I have tried to blame at least half-a-dozen other possible causes for our struggle in the past. It's maddening.
Mentally I have kept myself in check by staying busy and distracted. Physically I'm a little worse for wear. The toll that these treatments take on my body is impressive. A couple of days after the transfer I still had sharp pains in my sides from my giant angry ovaries, which makes everything from walking to laying flat an uncomfortable ordeal. My pelvis/lower abdomen/upper thighs became increasingly painful on Thursday to the point where I was sure I had pelvic inflammation due to an infection from the IUI. Luckily on Friday morning I woke up feeling better. Now I'm fighting through a six-day headache that was triggered by an alarm system at work and has since decided to hang around regardless of what baby-safe methods I try to rid myself of the agony. Nothing a cup of coffee and some aspirin wouldn't fix, of course....
Now is the time I usually tell myself that I' going to wait until the blood test to check for pregnancy and NOT TEST EARLY. There are multiple reasons for this, but the main one is because the trigger shot that I took to ovulate causes false pregnancy results on home tests. Another reason is because it is unbelievably stressful to test at home when the stakes are so high - squinting, taking pictures to convert into negatives, searching the stats about home pregnancy tests in relation to the day of your cycle, posting pictures on facebook groups to see what the group consensus is (yes, I have done that...) --- and that is just if the test is negative. A positive test would send all kinds of mixed emotions and a flurry of questions and possibilities circulating for consideration. Is it real? Is it a false positive? Is it too faint? Could it be a chemical pregnancy? **searches baby announcements on Pinterest** Then you have to wait until the blood draw anyway for a quantitative look at your maybe-pregnancy.
At least if I wait, I get to hang out in the blissfully ignorant "maybe-it-worked-maybe-it-didn't" stage for a while and fantasize about motherhood for an extra week before my world explodes with joy or crumbles beneath me.
Mentally I have kept myself in check by staying busy and distracted. Physically I'm a little worse for wear. The toll that these treatments take on my body is impressive. A couple of days after the transfer I still had sharp pains in my sides from my giant angry ovaries, which makes everything from walking to laying flat an uncomfortable ordeal. My pelvis/lower abdomen/upper thighs became increasingly painful on Thursday to the point where I was sure I had pelvic inflammation due to an infection from the IUI. Luckily on Friday morning I woke up feeling better. Now I'm fighting through a six-day headache that was triggered by an alarm system at work and has since decided to hang around regardless of what baby-safe methods I try to rid myself of the agony. Nothing a cup of coffee and some aspirin wouldn't fix, of course....
Now is the time I usually tell myself that I' going to wait until the blood test to check for pregnancy and NOT TEST EARLY. There are multiple reasons for this, but the main one is because the trigger shot that I took to ovulate causes false pregnancy results on home tests. Another reason is because it is unbelievably stressful to test at home when the stakes are so high - squinting, taking pictures to convert into negatives, searching the stats about home pregnancy tests in relation to the day of your cycle, posting pictures on facebook groups to see what the group consensus is (yes, I have done that...) --- and that is just if the test is negative. A positive test would send all kinds of mixed emotions and a flurry of questions and possibilities circulating for consideration. Is it real? Is it a false positive? Is it too faint? Could it be a chemical pregnancy? **searches baby announcements on Pinterest** Then you have to wait until the blood draw anyway for a quantitative look at your maybe-pregnancy.
At least if I wait, I get to hang out in the blissfully ignorant "maybe-it-worked-maybe-it-didn't" stage for a while and fantasize about motherhood for an extra week before my world explodes with joy or crumbles beneath me.
Sunday, October 9, 2016
.... and so begins the longest two weeks of my life.
Today is the day that I finally start emotionally investing in our latest fertility treatment.
Until this point, there is a looming possibility of cancelling everything due to a variety factors. Now that we are half-way through the cycle and one day from the insemination, we can relax a bit and start to dream again.
We have done one other intra-uterine insemination before, just last year through Conceptia. After trying to conceive since June of 2010, we were referred to them in 2013 for further testing. The diagnosis was "unexplained infertility" which means that everything works normally, doctors just can't find a reason for our inability to conceive. This was frustrating to say the least. After having tried for years with no luck, we needed a reason... something that could be fixed. No such luck unfortunately. Each month that passes brings new waves of hope and excitement only to be followed by heartbreak when we aren't successful. Not having a reason or cause makes things so much harder.
Last year everything about the IUI was perfect. Four mature follicles formed, which is the maximum they allow due to the risk of multiples. The semen sample numbers were fantastic, insemination went smoothly. With four little half-babies hanging out in my ovaries and a good amount of suitors waiting to meet up with them, how could we NOT get pregnant?
The two weeks that follow the insemination are the longest two weeks... ever. Right off the start, the odds aren't in your favor (6-20% chance of success) but there is still the hope that it works. Emotions run high. Stress is everywhere. Endless "what ifs" run through your head. Everyone gives advice about staying relaxed and calm, but that's impossible with what is at stake. I hang onto the phrase "cautious optimism" if I have to answer any questions about the future outcome of our treatment.
During the first treatment I told the people who needed to know... which seemed like too many even though it was only those who would be directly affected by a future pregnancy. This time around I decided to make it public, announcing our upcoming IUI on Facebook after the initial ultrasound. I'm tired of going through this struggle in the shadows and we need all of the support we can get.
Last time I set up a crib. I had four names picked out as strong contenders. I cut out coffee completely and didn't lift anything heavy. My due date was calculated. Baby clothes were purchased. I looked up places for baby registries. I was so sure that it was going to work and I made myself stay positive for those two weeks in case my mood would have any affect on achieving a pregnancy. In my mind, I was already pregnant. The call came that the IUI failed and everything collapsed around me. I tore down the crib, shoved baby items back into the closet, told myself I was stupid to think I would ever actually become a mom, and sucked back a bottle of wine in between sobs.
This kind of emotional investment makes you incredibly vulnerable, which is hard to live through. It feels like no one gets it, and the ones who do get it know better than to offer false hope. Fear of the unknown plagues your life, especially within these two weeks. Will it work? What if it doesn't? Will we try again? Where will we find the money? Will I be able to carry a baby to term? Will he/she be healthy? What if there are multiples? Could my body handle a high risk pregnancy?
Currently, my state of mind is "just enjoy the ride" while I sip my delicious caffeinated beverage in my PJs at 9:13am. However, I was already up at 5am searching "success stories IUI #2 with three follicles" and created a mental timeline of my estimated ovulation time with the average lifespan of a mature egg washed sperm in order to ensure the clinics treatment timeline is the most effective technique (Guess what? It is!). When you go through something so potentially life-changing, it's hard to keep your mind from constantly seeking out reassurance for the desired outcome.
Time for some yoga and brainstorming about how to distract myself from google for the next two weeks...
Until this point, there is a looming possibility of cancelling everything due to a variety factors. Now that we are half-way through the cycle and one day from the insemination, we can relax a bit and start to dream again.
We have done one other intra-uterine insemination before, just last year through Conceptia. After trying to conceive since June of 2010, we were referred to them in 2013 for further testing. The diagnosis was "unexplained infertility" which means that everything works normally, doctors just can't find a reason for our inability to conceive. This was frustrating to say the least. After having tried for years with no luck, we needed a reason... something that could be fixed. No such luck unfortunately. Each month that passes brings new waves of hope and excitement only to be followed by heartbreak when we aren't successful. Not having a reason or cause makes things so much harder.
Last year everything about the IUI was perfect. Four mature follicles formed, which is the maximum they allow due to the risk of multiples. The semen sample numbers were fantastic, insemination went smoothly. With four little half-babies hanging out in my ovaries and a good amount of suitors waiting to meet up with them, how could we NOT get pregnant?
The two weeks that follow the insemination are the longest two weeks... ever. Right off the start, the odds aren't in your favor (6-20% chance of success) but there is still the hope that it works. Emotions run high. Stress is everywhere. Endless "what ifs" run through your head. Everyone gives advice about staying relaxed and calm, but that's impossible with what is at stake. I hang onto the phrase "cautious optimism" if I have to answer any questions about the future outcome of our treatment.
During the first treatment I told the people who needed to know... which seemed like too many even though it was only those who would be directly affected by a future pregnancy. This time around I decided to make it public, announcing our upcoming IUI on Facebook after the initial ultrasound. I'm tired of going through this struggle in the shadows and we need all of the support we can get.
Last time I set up a crib. I had four names picked out as strong contenders. I cut out coffee completely and didn't lift anything heavy. My due date was calculated. Baby clothes were purchased. I looked up places for baby registries. I was so sure that it was going to work and I made myself stay positive for those two weeks in case my mood would have any affect on achieving a pregnancy. In my mind, I was already pregnant. The call came that the IUI failed and everything collapsed around me. I tore down the crib, shoved baby items back into the closet, told myself I was stupid to think I would ever actually become a mom, and sucked back a bottle of wine in between sobs.
This kind of emotional investment makes you incredibly vulnerable, which is hard to live through. It feels like no one gets it, and the ones who do get it know better than to offer false hope. Fear of the unknown plagues your life, especially within these two weeks. Will it work? What if it doesn't? Will we try again? Where will we find the money? Will I be able to carry a baby to term? Will he/she be healthy? What if there are multiples? Could my body handle a high risk pregnancy?
Currently, my state of mind is "just enjoy the ride" while I sip my delicious caffeinated beverage in my PJs at 9:13am. However, I was already up at 5am searching "success stories IUI #2 with three follicles" and created a mental timeline of my estimated ovulation time with the average lifespan of a mature egg washed sperm in order to ensure the clinics treatment timeline is the most effective technique (Guess what? It is!). When you go through something so potentially life-changing, it's hard to keep your mind from constantly seeking out reassurance for the desired outcome.
Time for some yoga and brainstorming about how to distract myself from google for the next two weeks...
Sunday, September 18, 2016
Crate Project
I have had a crate sitting in my bathroom for months. I had many plans for it when I bought it, but it just ended up being my toilet paper holder (I like to buy the big packs of TP and then I have nowhere to store them....).
Last week I finally decided to buy some sandpaper and figure out what I was going to transform it into. I had a can of stain that had been sitting in my garage for three years and some stencils in a box of old wedding supplies from a year ago, so that was a solid start.
The whole crate was sanded down carefully with a medium grit sandpaper. After that, I applied the Mahogany stain with a brush and let it dry completely overnight.
The next day. I mixed up some green acrylic paint and tried to use a brush to apply it over the stencil. That was an epic fail. The paint kept pooling under the edges of the pattern and created a smudged mess no matter how little I applied, so I needed a Plan B.
Luckily, I had bought some paint pens the day earlier with a different purpose in mind, but I needed something a little easier to control. I traced the edge of the stencil and filled it in, then lifted the stencil and evened out the lines.
Last week I finally decided to buy some sandpaper and figure out what I was going to transform it into. I had a can of stain that had been sitting in my garage for three years and some stencils in a box of old wedding supplies from a year ago, so that was a solid start.
The whole crate was sanded down carefully with a medium grit sandpaper. After that, I applied the Mahogany stain with a brush and let it dry completely overnight.
The next day. I mixed up some green acrylic paint and tried to use a brush to apply it over the stencil. That was an epic fail. The paint kept pooling under the edges of the pattern and created a smudged mess no matter how little I applied, so I needed a Plan B.
Luckily, I had bought some paint pens the day earlier with a different purpose in mind, but I needed something a little easier to control. I traced the edge of the stencil and filled it in, then lifted the stencil and evened out the lines.
After a quick spray with a high gloss sealer, it was complete!! It still sits in my bathroom full of toilet paper, but it looks a lot less sad now that it's all prettied up :)
Monday, September 5, 2016
My First Pallet Project
I told Bryan to start saving pallets at work about two years ago. Once we accumulated a few, he told me he wasn't bringing home any more until I did something with the ones I had!
It took me a while to find the desire to make something out of them. I had lots of ideas, it was deciding what one to follow through with and where to put the piece that delayed everything.
To be honest, this was supposed to be a blue pallet with white perching birds. My mind changed every hour with what I wanted the finished product to look like and I really should have just stayed away from Pinterest.
I'm pretty happy with the final product though.
I sanded the entire thing, front and back. Not sure if that was necessary but I didn't want to finish everything and regret not having done it in the first place. I used a hand sander, only because that was all I had.
Make sure you wear your good pants and get them SUPER dirty. Clearly I wasn't as prepared for this project as I thought I was.
2-in-1 spray paint primer. I sprayed a couple of coats and wiped them down to even out the coverage and make some wipe marks around the edges. Then it sat to dry overnight.
I found some acrylic paint and sketched the heart out in pencil before painting it.
This step has been what has prevented me from doing these signs in the past. I didn't have any fancy equipment to print my letters out on, so painting them neatly by hand seemed impossible (especially for a lefty). The tracing method looked like my best bet and I was pleasantly surprised with how easy it was to see the imprint in the wood and follow it with my paint pen.
Look closely!!
Another mention of my ill-preparedness... I forgot paint brushes. For real. Luckily a paint pen from an old bag of wedding supplies saved the day and I think I'll be using them from now on.
After some light sanding of the heart, painting was complete!
Added some twine to the top, fixed some of the lettering, and it was done. Can't wait to finish the new master bedroom and find a spot for it!
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