��

"In this tempestuous, havoc-ridden world of ours, all real communication comes from the heart."

- Etty Hillesum

March 06, 2006

Basket-casey.

I did not show my journal entry to Blue. I tried to engage him in conversation, which he tried really hard to avoid. So then I told him about writing the long journal entry, and told him I was too scared to actually show it to him.

He softened immediately, responded like the amazing man I knew he is; he said, �Hey, if you don�t want to show it to me, tell me what�s in it.�

So I did. I covered everything that had been on my mind, the worries that I had. I told him I needed for us to get some counseling � whether it�s with our priest or with a therapist. And he told me all the worries he had, and he agreed to go to counseling with me.

The reason I won�t go into details here is that some of my friends read this journal. And this problem that we�re having is something that is deeply personal, and I don�t want knowledge of that to taint anyone�s impression of me, or Blue, or our marriage. What I do want to emphasize is that I am deeply, deeply grateful that the man I married is as wonderful and caring as he is. That when I said, �I�m scared, I want to get help,� he responded.

Thanks for your emails of concern. Know that we will fix our problems.

----------

I have had some wicked insomnia over the past several months. (Hello! It�s 2:30am as I type!)

Some of it is emotional � I woke up an hour ago after having had nightmares about the �problem� that Blue and I are dealing with.

Some of it is physical � my personal trainer is doing a good enough job on me that I walk around feeling like I�ve recently been hit by a bus. Sore muscles everywhere and physically exhausted.

Some of it is our damned bed � we bought it about a year ago and it was heavenly. Now it is an uncomfortable hell. Fortunately, it�s covered under warranty and we finally got our act together sufficiently to get it exchanged. Our new mattress comes later this week and I can�t wait for a good night�s sleep in my bed.

----------

I am ambivalent about this Frozen Embryo Cycle that we are about to enter. For those of you who don�t know, a frozen cycle is much different from a �fresh,� or full cycle. In a full cycle, you have to stimulate the growth of eggs, harvest them at the right time, fertilize them, and then transfer them into the uterus. With a frozen cycle, you�ve already got everything through the fertilization part � the embryos (ok, technically I think they�re not �embryos� at this stage, we�ve got blastocysts, but most people know what an embryo is so I go with it) are frozen and waiting to be thawed and put into my uterus at the right time.

So where a fresh cycle is full of exciting shots and blood tests and monitoring via the fabulous transvaginal ultrasound probe, a frozen cycle is � take some pills, then wait, and then take some more pills, then get a few shots, one ultrasound, one blood test, and then transfer the embryos at the right time.

Fresh = discomfort, craziness, strict schedule. Frozen = are we actually doing anything, here?

So I have been reading one of the main IVF discussion boards a lot, just to keep my toe in the water � you know, just to feel like I�m in the game.

I don�t know why I did this � but the other day I read the �Beta Board.� This is the place where women who may or may not have viable pregnancies talk about their levels of hCG � the pregnancy hormone. Is it too little? Is it rising rapidly enough? Here are my crappy numbers, has anyone had a successful pregnancy from these? (The placenta, or what will turn into the placenta, is what cranks out the hCG. The numbers rise rapidly at the beginning of pregnancy and then level off and drop sometime around the end of the first trimester, once everything is firmly established and ticking along.)

I hung out there a while when I was pregnant, because I had shitty numbers. And when you�re pregnant but have shitty numbers, you cling to whatever hope you can find. You pee on multiple home pregnancy test sticks to see if the �positive� lines get darker. You scour the web for success stories from women who had worse numbers than you. You scrutinize your pregnancy symptoms � are your breasts getting larger and more tender? Was that a little nausea you just felt?

God. What a nightmare. And what an idiot I am for going and reading some of that stuff the other day. After reading what some of these women are currently going through, I started feeling sick to my stomach and really awful. All of the bad, �Oh crap, this pregnancy is not right� feelings came rushing back to me.

I don�t want to go through that again.

But here I am, gearing up to go through that again.

I honestly feel like banging my head against the keyboard right now. The only thing that�s stopping me is that it�s now 2:47am and I�d probably wake up Blue � who deserves a good sleep.

----------

Before I moved to Austin, I lived in the Washington D.C. area. I spent my formative years there, growing up in the DC subculture. One of my influences was a set of radio DJ�s named Don and Mike.

These two guys were on the air when I was in grade school � they were the �morning zoo� guys at the top 40 station who did all the wacky antics on the air. The kind of stuff grade school kids eat up.

As I grew up, they changed. They changed time slots to afternoons, and then they changed radio stations. They stopped playing music, and concentrated on being the entertainment. I guess by now they�ve been on the air together in DC for more than 20 years.

If I hadn�t listened to them while I was growing up, I don�t know that I�d want to listen to them now. But they were always a source of amusement for me, and I got the in-jokes, and I enjoyed them. I felt like I got to know them, and that I got to know their families a bit. Don would tell stories of his home life and he�d often call his wife, Frieda, to back up his story. More often than not she�d correct him and contradict him � but you could tell that they had a decent marriage and that they loved each other, and it was fun to listen to the back-and-forth between them.

Don and Mike are syndicated, so they�re on in various parts of the country. When I moved to Austin nearly a decade ago, they were on the air here. The day after I moved here, the Austin station dropped them and they haven�t been around since.

About every six months or so, I�ve had a habit of checking their website to see if they�re on locally, or to see if they stream the audio, or to see if they�ve gone off the air.

This weekend I surfed to their site and found that not only are they streaming their show now, but they�ve also got downloads and podcasts.

Excited, I downloaded several of their recent shows and started listening. It was so neat to be right back with them again. I don�t know if it�s because they�re a connection to my happy childhood, or because their sense of humor really appeals to me, but I was absolutely delighted to have found a way to listen to them again.

As they were talking, Don said something to the effect of, �I swear on my wife�s grave.� But something in his voice sounded wrong. So I zipped to Google and searched on her name � and found out that she had died last year in a car wreck.

I would think my reaction was totally weird, except for the fact that Blue and I have been on an emotional rollercoaster lately and I�m not entirely stable.

I burst into tears when I read the story of her death.

I don�t usually cry when I learn about my many cancer patients� deaths, for heaven�s sake.

Yet here I was, bawling because someone I had never met before had died.

I guess I felt like I knew her. I guess the impression that I had of the two of them � that they really were in love with each other over 25+ years � was stronger than I thought. I guess my emotions about Blue lately made me hypersensitive about the loss of a spouse. I guess my hormones are still messed up.

Don�t worry. I�m not wearing black and sending flowers. It�s one of those things that just caught me wrong � like the lyrics of a song, or the look in Blue�s eyes, or the thought of another failed cycle.

I love love. And I hate to see it taken away. I know it doesn�t last forever � because we don�t last forever. But the randomness of her accident hit me right between the eyes. I want to cling to Blue. Not let him out of my sight. Take care of him and never let him be in harm�s way. It�s too fleeting.

----------

We were supposed to get our second dog yesterday, but the breeder was unable to meet us. She had something come up, so we�ve scheduled for next weekend.

I joked in a previous entry about how we�re getting our IVF doorprize � our miscarriage dog.

But you know something? I�m not sure I�m laughing right now. Because my feelings have been crazy over the past week � ever since we thought we were bringing her home yesterday.

I was worried � will they get along? How will #1 adjust to a new buddy? How will they adjust to a new schedule? What if she doesn�t adjust quickly to life here? What if they�re up all night, playing and roughhousing? What if she�s not as trained as she�s supposed to be and she eats my new couch?

I swear, I�ve been way more worried about bringing a dog home than I was about getting pregnant.

Am I projecting? Am I transferring some of the anxiety and emotion to the new dog?

I betcha!

----------


You know, reading this entry has made me think I�m a basket case. Interestingly enough, I�m not. I�m walking and talking. I�m eating healthy and working out. I�m seeing my therapist every other week (been seeing her since before my divorce several years ago from Bozo the Ex-Husband � she�s been a great asset through this IVF stuff!). I�m meditating daily (except yesterday, when I forgot to make the time � whoops). I�m going to work on the days I�m scheduled. I�m going to school. I�m getting my clinical stuff done. I�m getting my schoolwork done, and my grades are stellar. I�ve got time to read a book on the side. I�m not moping around the house, but I�m not making myself so busy I don�t have time to think.

I�m really not a basket case. But I have been going through a lot lately and I�ve got to give myself credit for that � and some permission to be a little basket-casey, if that�s what I need. In general, I think I�m ok, though. Perhaps what I am reading as �basket-casey� in this entry is really just my regular batty self.

Previous - Next

Last Few Entries

Back? - November 10, 2007
Just a break. - June 19, 2007
Caddy day in the pool. - June 05, 2007
Sleep! And sleep, and sleep! - June 01, 2007
Happy days are here again ... - May 30, 2007

� More about Etty Hillesum, the woman in the photo.�