Not As Strong As I Look

Posted on January 1, 2014 by imfluffyowl

I’ve never been one to make a big deal out of New Years. I tried to last year by hosting a party that no one showed up to. I rang in 2013 crying, upset and completely let down by everyone around me. This seemed to be the general theme of 2013. I lost my push to write. My cat died. The day my cat died was my last day on my casual rotation at work so I left the vet to go directly to work where I simply survived the shift and my exit interview. My husbands health was poor. I watched as most of my husbands friends just forgot about him, had no time for him. I watched my husband give up on his friends because you can only get turned down or not invited to events for so long before you get the hint. It was hard to watch my husband sit here and admit that he has no real friends because the people he trusted the most stopped communicating with him, won’t return his calls or get together to do anything. At one point we were a one income home. I was in and out of depressions all year. Depressed about our infertility, money, my lack of sex life because infertility has killed our sex drive. I’ve had friends snap at me for reasons I don’t quite understand and for their own messed up reasons that had nothing to do with me. I’ve snapped at friends and family. I’ve been ignored. I’ve had family become non existent to me because of shit that has nothing to do with either of us. I’ve cried. A lot. Emotionally, I’ve been lost and the last couple of months, I’ve been coasting through what was left of the year on fumes.

Then to finish off the year, on Sunday my grandfather took a mini stroke. After confirming what it was, they sent him home. There’s nothing they can do for him. He’s 87. His health problems are finally catching up to him. He’s no longer jumping back like he has for the past 2 years. His body is slowly starting to shut down. While at the hospital, we were talking and its clear that hes entering his endgame. We don’t know how long he has, but his moves are starting to run out. I would do anything to make him healthy again, to ease this pain for him. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I hope he passes in his sleep before this drags out anymore than it has and he suffers more.

So it’s no surprise that I’m ready for this year to end. 2013 was not kind to me. It could’ve been worse, but really, you could say that to anyone still living. Anything short of dying and you can use that “it could’ve been worse”. But regardless, I hated 2013.

Of course there were some high points. We got a new cat. We spent our first year in our home. I got my foot in the door with a government job that could lead to further call backs and maybe even a more permanent job with them. My thyroid levels finally went back to normal. I found my true friends and I can say that I know what its like to have absolute complete faith in a friend. I loved. I got another year with my grandparents. I laughed. I finished my first year as a Brownie leader and watched my first group of girls move onto Girl Guides. I attended my first Brownie camp and my first Guider Conference.

It wasn’t all bad. But it hasn’t been enough to end this year on a high point.

I’m not one to make resolutions, or make a “best of” list. I wish people a Happy New Year only when its wished to me first. I don’t put much stock in any gods or higher powers. I put my faith in what’s physically in front of me, in the people who never let me down, who love me, who see past my strong front, my temper and my bad attitude. The ones who know when I need them before I even know. The ones who call me on my shit and in the next breath defend and protect me. In that case, I’m a very lucky girl. And I’ll use that to push me through the start of 2014.

Good riddance 2013. I can’t say that I’ll miss you.

2014, please be kind. I’m not as strong as I look.

Happy Holidays!

Posted on December 25, 2013 by imfluffyowl

First, a Merry Christmas to those celebrating. To those not celebrating on the 25th, I wish you a wonderfully quiet and peaceful Wednesday with your family.

As for us, we started our celebrations tonight. We went over to the inlaws for supper and had our gift exchange. I got some of my favorite gifts: socks, underwear and my yearly Christmas PJ’s. Pjs that I’m all curled up in while I watch Christmas movies and finish a cross stitch for a friend. After supper and gifts, we headed to my parents house where we opened our gifts early. I got some old school games (toss across and rebound) that my parents tracked down in a store on their travels. We got clothes and puzzles, a blu ray player and candy. A beautiful necklace that my parents got for me while in Mexico. But the best part of the evening was skyping with my brother, his girlfriend and her son. We spent the evening relaxing as the snow fell outside. Then we bundled up and headed home to our kitties where they were treated to a lot of boxes of kitty treats from the grandparents. I made a cup of tea for myself, the last of my Santa’s Secret tea from David’s Tea, and watched Christmas movies with my husband.

We didn’t get gifts for each other. We haven’t since we moved in together (joint bank account and all…). But in the new year we plan to treat each other to something we had our eye on, him a chair for gaming and me a shopping spree at David’s Tea.

In the morning, it’s back up to my parents for our Christmas Day big brunch that myself and dad put on. And while we spend the afternoon vegging out and napping, mom makes her big turkey dinner. After dinner, me and Chris will cuddle up to watch the Doctor Who Christmas Special.

Boxing Day will be spent with my inlaws and my hubby’s great big family for yet another turkey dinner. I’m finally going to let loose and drink, bottle of wine in tow. Before I leave for the inlaws, I’m making caramel apple jello shooters for our get together with friends on the 27th, where we will swap gifts and drink and just celebrate the fact that we made it through the holidays relatively unscathed.

So once we survive the next couple of days, we plan on spending the rest of 2013 quiet and peaceful. We even plan for a quiet New Years at home.

So if my absence is noticed around here. It’s with good reasons. I hope all of you enjoy the rest of 2013 and that 2014 brings all of our hopes and dreams to life. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all my fellow bloggers!

A Perfect Moment

Posted on December 10, 2013 by imfluffyowl

It’s 3:30am and I’m just shutting everything down and heading to bed where my husband is already snoring soundly. I’m at the top of my stairs and looking out my octagon window and I can see that’s it’s been snowing pretty regularly since I got home from darts.

I look at my neighbors house across the street and notice that his garbage is out. I look down expecting to see mine because that chore belongs to Chris, but it’s not there. I’m a little peeved. Not only because I now have to bundle up to take the garbage out, but it’s also recycling pick up week and if I’m being forced to separate and put them out every two weeks, I’m not missing the opportunity to have it taken off my hands. I’m also peeved because I’m clumsy on my best day and having me walk in almost 2 inches of snow where I can’t see the ice below, in the dark, with my hands full of garbage bags, the odds are not in my favor. Scenarios run through my head of me falling and unable to get up, Chris sound asleep and unable to hear me holler for help so I’m forced to freeze in the snow until either my neighbors or the garbage collection guys find me. (Did I tell you about my overactive imagination?) So I fire on my sweater coat and my sneakers (because my new winter boots are wrapped under my moms Christmas tree) and take my chances.

I make it through, incident free. (Whew! I saved those garbage collectors a show!)

I make my way back to the house and as I’m about to go back inside, I stop and look at the neighborhood. It isn’t very active on the best of days (other than the guy who fixes cars out of his garage, the Griswold next door who is trying to out decorate the rest of the neighborhood and the guy who revs his motorcycle for a few hours every couple of days but never really drives it anywhere). But at 3:30am, the neighborhood is dead. It’s quiet. There aren’t even any recent tracks in the freshly falling snow to show where the road ends and our driveways begin.

It’s one of those quiet, peaceful snows that fall. There was no breeze or high winds. It was just me and the falling snow. This is the snow you want on Christmas Eve. This is the snow that they try to recreate in the movies to show you winter magic. This is the part of winter I love. I always called it the “It’s A Wonderful Life” snow. That beautiful snowfall that just catches your breath. It triggers long forgotten memories of adventures with friends and making snowmen with my brother and playing with the other kids in the neighborhood, this exact same neighborhood in this exact same house, 20 years earlier.

I was out there a good 10 minutes before I noticed that the snow was starting to numb my toes. Or that my nose was getting red. I had the urge to go wake up Chris, get bundled up and go play in the snow. I felt like a kid again.

But the moment passed and I forced myself back inside to head to bed with promises that next time, I’ll wake Chris and we’ll get bundled up and we’ll go play in the snow like we are kids again. And maybe next time I’ll invite the kids I used to babysit, who still live in the neighborhood too, to join us. Next time…

The Best News I’ve Heard All Day

Posted on December 6, 2013 by imfluffyowl

My clinic just called me with the results of my thyroid levels and for the first time since I really don’t know when, my levels are normal. I spent a year and a half with my clinic trying to regulate my thyroid and at least 7 dosage changes.

My TSH is resting nice and comfy at 1.2.

1.2

The best number.

This may also be the only time I’m happy with being “normal”.

It doesn’t seem like much, but our entire infertility journey and any hope of moving forward was waiting on my thyroid levels to return to normal again.

1.2

A number with so much hope.

1.2 doesn’t mean much to you, but to me it means moving forward…finally.

Thoughts On Turning 31

Posted on November 27, 2013 by imfluffyowl

So I’m a mere 7 days (and 16 minutes- not that I’m counting) to my 31st birthday as of me writing this. I’d like to say that I’m excited for it, but I’d be lying.

Normally, I’m the giddy birthday girl. Excited to have a day where those I care about and love make me feel special. I’m a bit vain. I love celebrating my birthday. I love getting gifts, cake and a chorus (or two) of happy birthday. I don’t want all the attention all of the time, but I want it on days that are clearly important to me…like birthdays. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that though. Some people love it, some are indifferent while others downright can’t stand it. My husband is of the can’t stand it camp so he has a hard time understanding my need for attention on my birthday. Or our anniversary. Or Christmas. Or any other holiday or special date. Seriously.

I’ve never been afraid of aging. My friend turned 30 in September and she had a rough couple of months before she hit 30 and she had a really, really bad couple of days surrounding her 30th birthday. Six month earlier, I welcomed 30 like an old friend. A surprise birthday party a week before we moved into our house. We partied in my half packed up apartment. My party was such a surprise to me that they all came into the apartment to surprise me to find me napping on the couch because to the best of my knowledge, my friend was coming over to give me a mani and pedi. In TV surprise parties, you walk in and they turn on the lights and everyone jumps out to say SURPRISE! My birthday though, everyone walked in with everything needed for the party, said SURPRISE and I didn’t budge so they had to shake me awake and in my still mostly asleep daze as I searched for my glasses they gave me a second chorus of SURPRISE while I processed the 10 or so people there. There was a lopsided cake made with love from my friends, alcohol and music from my teen years. We ate cake, hung over and I nursed a hangover the next morning. It was a great 30th birthday.

This year though, its a completely different story. For the first time in my almost 31 years, I’m absolutely dreading my birthday.

A couple of weeks ago, I hit a bad spell. Like a really bad spell. An emotional mess that left my husband shaking his head. He didn’t know how to help me. He tried every trick he had. I wouldn’t talk to him, and when I did acknowledge him it lead to tears and outbursts. I snapped at the smallest thing. Finally one day I hit my breaking point. I broke down and cried in my porch as I was getting ready to go out. I finally admitted to myself and Chris that I couldn’t stand the standstill that I found myself in. We first visited our fertility clinic when I was 29. They told me that there was no real rush to get everything under control because I still had so much time before I hit that advanced maternal age of 35. I was annoyed but my thyroid levels were resting somewhere up in the stratosphere and I knew it wouldn’t be fixed overnight. But here I am, weeks away from my 31st birthday and we are still fighting with my thyroid levels and I still have no treatment options. I have no direction and each day is harder than the last. I ache for a child of my own, I ache to have direction, to have options, to have someone other than me to take this seriously. I tend to be vocal about our struggles, but this time I felt the need to hide and protect it. Cause who really wants to listen to my sob story anymore? I’ve been told as much from some people. So, feeling particularly vulnerable, I hid it away. It built up. That coupled with the fact that I’m suddenly one year closer to that evil age, that age that I move into a new category of childbearing (or at least attempting childbearing) and I just didn’t know how to process it.

So once I admitted the reason behind my breakdown, I just left and did what I had to do. I went to darts because I couldn’t stay home anymore. What I didn’t know was that my husband called my best friend. He felt helpless, so he called the one other person he knew could help me and really understand it on a level not even he can grasp. She also happened to be heading to darts and walked in after me. The rest of the group knew I was in an off mood so they were understanding and were nice but gave me space, but as soon as she walked in and I saw her face, I knew that she was talking to my husband. I like to sometimes call them It and Dit sometimes. They always seem to know how to fix me and they get along far better than anyone would expect a friend and a spouse would expect. But of course, I couldn’t talk to her without crying so she just sat next to me. Afterwards, her and her husband came down to visit and they just let me be me. The boys played video games while we hung out. She let me process what I needed to and let me finally give everything a name and let it out.

So now, despite feeling better, I’m still sick to my stomach about turning 31. Different groups of friends are asking me what I would like to do for my birthday. They keep making suggestions for supper, a house party, a game night with cake, and one friend (an esthetician) even told me to clear my schedule for the day before my birthday because she wants to treat me to a mani and pedi at the shop she works at. (Did I ever tell you that I have the best friends ever? Cause I do. I really, really do.) My mom plans on taking me shopping and going out for supper. My husband is finally listening to my years of telling him that my birthday is important and wants to do something and needs ideas. I ran into a friend tonight and she’s been asking me for weeks if I want to get together for my birthday and I keep on pushing it off. It’s to the point that people are worried. Yet I can’t even give them ideas. All I want is to freeze time at 30 until I have a child in my arms, maybe two if I’m lucky enough and then move on with time. But none of them can do that, so instead I’m finally getting what I always wanted for my birthday and this year I don’t want any of it. I just want it to be forgotten. Irony? I have it.

I really hate not enjoying my birthday. I hate that infertility has tarnished just one more thing I love despite my best efforts to keep the damage localized.

I don’t want to be damaged goods anymore.

Is that too much to ask?

Why It’s Important To Talk To Kids About Bullying

Posted on October 24, 2013 by imfluffyowl

I’m a Brownie leader with Girl Guides of Canada. This is my second year since I got back into Guiding and I love every single minute of it. I love the age group I get to work with. They are at that perfect age of old enough to work independently on a craft or project and still young enough to enjoy the fun games/songs/crafts without boredom kicking in and little to no pre-teen attitude. For most of our girls, Brownies gives them so many opportunities. For most, Brownie camp is their first night away from home. When the four leaders in our group get together (and the other three happen to be my cousin and two of my friends), we plan the programs for each week to benefit them. We find new crafts, games and activities that benefit them. We go to conference every two years to take seminars to learn how to help them make the most of their time with us. For many of our girls, we are a listening ear that they may not have elsewhere. We might be their first introduction to crafts and singing and really enjoying the moment.

Last year we were really lucky. We had a great group of girls, no glaring problems and no need to get parents involved if issues did arise. Personality wise, everything was as smooth as you can get. But this year I was reminded that even though last year was smooth sailing, it doesn’t mean that all years will be smooth sailing. Each year is a new surprise for us. And we got our first taste of that last week.

Each year, we like to let the girls play around amongst themselves while we wait for everyone to arrive. It gives the girls a chance to blow off some of their energy, but also because it gives us a chance to observe them. We waited almost a month before we separated them into their respective groups. We want to watch for who hangs around with each other and look for possible personality clashes. But we also watch for any other issues as well, primarily, early signs of bullying. So far, the girls have been great. No glaring issues. We try to separate the girls who are glued to each other, just so that they will be encouraged to make new friends and not rely on their best friend. We also look at personality clashes and separate them in order to help things run smoothly. Every decision we make is to help optimize the girls experiences. We want them to have the best experience possible.

Last week, we had a field trip to our local fire department for fire prevention month. But as me and one of the other leaders were making the rounds to help with an activity, we caught two of the girls chanting an unflattering name to one of the other girls over and over again. They were trying to upset her and were taking enjoyment from upsetting her. We watched the girl being taunted and she went from smiling to dropping her head and looking like she was ready to cry. It broke my heart. Myself and the other leader instantly put a stop to it. We got after the two girls and explained why it was mean to do that and that they were to apologize to the other girl or we would call their parents and have them sent home. They apologized. While the other leader checked on the girl being taunted, I sat with the two girls and asked if they knew why they were apologizing and they told me that it was because it was wrong. So I told them that it wasn’t just wrong, but it was mean. I asked them how they would feel if the other girl had chanted those things to them. Or if anyone had chanted something like that to them. They got very quiet and admitted that they wouldn’t like it. So I asked them why they felt it was OK to do that to someone else. The girls remained quiet for the rest of the night and we checked on the other girl to ask how she was feeling. She seemed to bounce back but I still worried about her. The rest of the night went smoothly, incident free.

This is the first real instance of bullying that I’ve had to deal with at this age level. After the girls went home, we filled the other leader in on what happened and agreed that we would have to watch the three girls in the future and bump up our bullying program into the next couple of weeks instead of later in the year like we planned. Girl Guides has a full program for all groups to go over with our girls about bullying and how to handle it.

But as much as we work with the girls not to bully and to be nice to everyone, we are truly limited by how much we can do. We can talk to them, we can address it when we see it happen, we can call parents when other avenues don’t work, but we can’t enforce it at home.

And that’s where the parents come in. If you are a parent, guardian, aunt, uncle or grandparent, please talk to your kids about bullying. Always have open dialogue about it. Practice situations with them where they are bullied, or they see someone else bullied and teach them to speak up about it. Teach them to go to an adult when they see bullying happening. Because even though we caught two girls bullying another, what makes it more sad is that the other girls seen it and didn’t speak up about it. Had we not caught this, not one of those girls who seen it would’ve spoken up about it to myself or the other leaders. And the one being bullied wouldn’t think to tell us how she was treated.

There are three parts to bullying: the one doing the bullying, the one being bullied and the people watching it who let it happen. Our kids need to know how to recognize it, how to approach it and how to handle it. And I’ll do my part as a leader. But no matter how hard I try to prevent it, if you as a parent or guardian are not doing your part as well, then it’s a lost cause. Please help your child’s teachers and sports and group leaders prevent bullying. Continue the education at home. Talk to your children. Please.

For information about talking to your child about bullying please check out the link provided below:

http://www.stopbullying.gov/prevention/talking-about-it/

Sometimes, Hubby Gets It Right

Posted on September 16, 2013 by imfluffyowl

So I had a bit of a break down tonight.

Nothing major, just your average everyone-has-a-kid-but-me-and-my-doctors-won’t-return-my-phone-call-with-my-blood-test-results-and-I’m-out-of-synthroid-and-I’ll-never-be-a-mom type of breakdown.

Coming home from an event today with my mother, she proceeded to tell me all about how much my father likes my brothers “it’s getting serious” girlfriend and her son. She likes to remind me over and over again how much my father is smitten with her son and how they get along so great and have so much fun together. Then mom goes on about planning their Christmas gifts in great detail and asking for my opinion on her ideas. She doesn’t even put this much thought into the rest of our Christmas gifts.

For some reason, this was my tipping point for the day. I went very quiet. So quiet that my mother noticed. So when she finally dragged it out of me that I was upset because I felt like no one cared and it seemed that it didn’t matter to them if I ever get to be a mom. My mother told me not to be so dramatic and told me that we could always adopt. Thanks mom. Thanks for making me feel even more like shit. Your husband lives away for work, maybe you should just divorce him because its not as easy as a relationship where you spouse comes home everyday after work. Same difference? Right? Then she has the nerve to say to me, “I’ve clearly said something to upset you but I don’t know what I said. I’m sorry. Please calm down.” But I’m sorry. I can’t. She told me that she really understands what I’m going through. (Sorry mom, you don’t have a clue.) And then I told her as much. You don’t get it because you never struggled to have me and Mike. You don’t know the emptiness. You don’t know what it’s like to watch your one dream realized by everyone around you while you are questioned by others because of the absence. Well meaning questions enquiring about my lack of children like its any of their fucking business, like there’s not years of dreams shattered and hope lost. You don’t know how to live with this life everyday when the only thing you ever wanted, even as a child, was to be a mom. You don’t know what it’s like to wait for phone calls from doctors and to never actually get the call. You’ve never begged or cried to a secretary out of sheer frustration and emotional burnout. You’ve never wondered where money for treatments was going to come from. You never had to consider living without your children, ever, for even one moment.

So I left in frustration and pain. I ignored her calling from the step. I ignored her calls and texts on my drive home and I called her back long enough to tell her I’m not fine and I may never be fine, especially if I have to live this much longer. Then I called my clinic. Because as much as that secretary rocks, she can’t give me my blood results. Only a doctor or nurse can. And she arranged to have someone call me on Thursday. They didn’t call. I called on Friday and she promised a call by end of day. She called me a half hour before end of day to tell me that the doctor left without calling me and that she arranged to have him come in on a Saturday just to call me with the results because my prescription ran out and I won’t refill it if they are gonna change my dosage anyway. Guess what? He didn’t fucking call, again. I called while upset (I know, bad idea), and left a voicemail clearly letting my wonderful secretary know that I wasn’t called again, I’m out of pills, refilled it at my own cost(all out of pocket) and that if my dosage changes, I’ll have to pay all of it out of pocket…again. She’s gonna be as pissed as I am and she’ll have it resolved within the first 10 minutes of her shift. Too bad the rest of the staff wasn’t as on the ball as she was.

So I went in the house and cried. Really cried. A long messy cry while my husband tried to figure out what was wrong. Once he realized what was wrong, he tried to fix it. When he couldn’t fix it, he did something right. He called my best and oldest friend, my friend who is also dealing with infertility. He put up the proverbial bat signal without my knowledge while I was in the bathroom.

I came out of the bathroom still crying and he hugged me. Then she was there behind me and when I turned around, she took over. She hugged me and cried with me and just held me. I didn’t have to explain it to her, she didn’t require it. No act, no being strong, just release. And then we talked in partial sentences. I’d start a thought and she finished it. I didn’t have to explain how I was feeling, just the details of what happened.

Then we started talking about other things. Then suddenly, we started laughing and it was the first real time I’ve laughed in a long time. I wasn’t better, but she helped me escape for a bit. It was wonderful. After her and her husband went home, I thanked my own husband. He did good.

I’m not better, I’m not back to normal, but it helped. I got to release a bit of the pressure so I could go on. All I want is to get through Monday, and now maybe, I might just be able to do that.

Hubby, you did good today.

Thanks.

When Can I Catch My Breath?

Posted on September 1, 2013 by imfluffyowl

I miss my blog. I miss the feeling of release when I hit publish. I miss the writing. I miss the way it felt like a soothing balm when I published a post. I honestly never really cared if anyone read what I wrote, i don’t write for the attention. I know my writing is mediocre at best and I don’t have it in me to commit to a large readership and I’m ok with that. It’s never been about the success of this blog, at least not that type of success because I measure my success differently. This was always about me finding a release, doing it only for me, to find my happiness again. A place to process and document my thoughts. This blog is like a very public therapy session. Blogging gave me a purpose and helped me come to terms with our infertility. Everything else I consider extra. But now, as much as I love blogging, I can’t find the words anymore.

I guess you could say that I dropped off the blogging map. I don’t comment anymore despite the fact that I read my news feed whenever I can. I lost my push to post. I have at least 20 posts in my draft folder just sitting there. None are long enough to actually post or work into a decent post, many only have a few lines, the start of a thought. But they sit there, unpublished, reminding me that I’ve lost my ability to write again.

And the truth is, I see the difference. I’m a different person when I don’t write. Instead of releasing my thoughts and emotions here, I keep it in, not releasing it anywhere and then I feel this buildup of emotion and frustration and I snap at people. I then realize that I’m not writing and I’m not releasing any of it anymore. No wonder I’m snapping at people. A lot of the feelings that I felt during the early stages of our diagnosis are starting to resurface because I have no words to release the pressure building up inside. As much as I haven’t had the energy to write, I need to write. To survive any of this as unscathed as possible, I need this place, I need the words to come and I need to release.

It’s only after last night that I truly saw how bad it could soon become. When I got home from work, I picked a fight with my husband about him not planning anything for our anniversary that hasn’t happened yet. I fought with him over events that are yet to happen. Then he went to bed and I played on Pinterest where I jumped back and forth between sobbing and laughing at random pictures so often that I was giving my mind whiplash. I stayed up all night and just tried to grasp the fact that none of this is right or ok and I need to find some way to feel normal again.

I opened my wordpress app and looked at my drafts. They all felt incomplete and none of them really felt like I could finish them and they were all half thoughts with no direction. So I opened a new post and stared at the screen, hoping for the words to form and my fingers to move. But it never happened. The sun came up, I sent myself to bed and tried to get some sleep. When I woke up today, I just told myself to write anything, any feelings I had, just to put them to paper (er…tablet?) and get them out there and have faith that eventually the words would come again and the feeling of normalcy would slowly make its way back into my life.

Infertility has taken away all of my feelings of normalcy. It’s tarnished my views on everything. People will tell me to not let infertility live my life for me, but its hard when it invades every aspect of your life. And I try to live my life in the moment. To find happiness and enjoy what I have. Everyday. But infertility is always there, always present. Sometimes its all consuming, while other times its a tiny speck like a dot on the edge of your glasses. It doesn’t stop your sight, but its a slight irritation just on the very edge of your line of vision. And it’s the little things that hit me more so than the big things. I see an older woman with a young child as they pass me in the street, parents with twins, kids who clearly have a large age gap between them, or even sometimes a clearly loving couple with a dog and no children and that little speck suddenly pipes in and puts the thought in my head before I can stop it.

‘I wonder if they dealt with infertility too?’

‘I wonder if twins runs in the family or its because of treatment?’

‘Why don’t they have kids? Are they child free by choice or by lack of choice?’

The questions are there before I can process what I’m seeing, before I can stop the thoughts from going there. These things are the speck just on the outskirts of my line of vision, on the edge of my glasses. And if I didn’t have this diagnosis, I know that I wouldn’t even notice these people and I wouldn’t even question it.

I’m doing everything I can. I’m trying all the tricks and suggestions to feel normal again, or at least the type of normal I was before my life was rudely invaded by infertility, but I still feel like that’s a mountain that I may never conquer. I feel like there are all these mountains and each one is something I’m trying to conquer: feeling ‘normal’ again, resolving our infertility, husband, work, family, friends. Each one is its own mountain and I’m trying to climb them all at once. It’s exhausting, because when I take a break from really making progress on one, I’m playing catch up on all the other mountains. I want to reach a comfortable spot on each mountain, even a temporary plateau to rest and regain my strength, but each mountain has such a steep slope with no resting points so I can’t even catch my breath. I just wanna catch my breath. When can I catch my breath?

A Breakdown At Work

Posted on August 16, 2013 by imfluffyowl

You know what guys and gals? I’ve been having a rough week.

It’s been a rough July and a rough start to August if I’m being truly honest, but it seemed to hit its brink the other night.

I’ve been quite proud of myself lately. I’ve been able to detach myself from our struggles with infertility. I’m in another six week wait while I wait for the time I can go through my blood work again to see if my thyroid has finally gotten its act together and went back to normal. So really there’s not much I can do.

I’ve transitioned out of my bitter, angry infertile stage over the past year. Four years of being constantly angry and bitter was apparently my breaking point and I’ve transitioned into a calmer but still frustrated infertile. I like to think about it by comparing it to waxing. Waxing for the first time is a bitch and you are red raw afterwards. But the more you do it, the more you build up a tolerance for it. I’ve developed a thick skin at this point. Not just with the waxing, but with infertility in general. I’ve let other things keep me busy. I have less bad days. I can handle reading about pregnancies and I can even congratulate people now. I’ve spent a lot of my summer so far doing couples things with another IF couple and its been great to have kid free stuff to do. But when I do have a bad IF day, its BAD. I guess thats the down side to this transition. I passed in all my slightly bad emotional days for a handful of really, really bad breakdown days. One of these days happened at the worst possible time. At work.

Generally work is fun (believe it or not). We have a great group of people who laugh and joke and get along wonderfully. We range in age and lifestyle. Some are moms and grand moms, the lone male in our room is so young he’s fresh out of university and we refer to him as “the puppy” or “Justin Beiber” even though he looks and acts nothing like the crazy Canadian pop star (yeah, as a Canadian, sorry about unleashing that on the world, we didn’t really have a say in it.) A couple of the woman, I’ve grown particularly close to and tomorrow is the last day of their casual cycle and they are off til the new year. Another girl, closer to me in age is staying in her spot while I’m moving over to the other building with the rest of the remaining team. When I say that we’ve gotten close, I mean that we added each other on Facebook, are on the lookout for things we mentioned to each other, and I’ve told them that we are dealing with infertility after they inquired why we don’t have kids yet and they haven’t treated me differently and in some cases, have asked about it.

But yesterday, as I was joking with some of my coworkers over something silly during lunch, I was scrolling through my Facebook news feed to pass he time and all I see is nothing but parents complaining about their children. Earlier that day and earlier this week, I listened to other staff in the building complaining about their children and for some reason, at that moment during lunch, it was like a tidal wave of pain hit me. I had no warning. Tears streaming down my face, trying not to sob or draw attention to myself, I couldn’t get up and go cry in the bathroom because there would be no way to hide my face and if my coworkers saw me in that state, they are the type of people to follow me, concerned, to make sure I was ok. I was embarrassed by the breakdown. I went from giddy and laughing to emotional mess with absolutely no warning. I felt the emotional toll this was having on me along with the financial toll as wave after wave of pain hit me. Ever since, I’ve been somber, depressed and completely scared of what may never happen. It’s been making work…difficult at best. My concentration is absolutely shot and I’m fighting to get through the work that is normally a breeze for me. My mind is suddenly entirely focused on one thing, our infertility.

It’s been 4 years and we are still doing basic testing. I don’t even know my treatment options yet. How much longer do I have to wait for those? Let alone treatment and the possibility of it actually working.

And now? My period is late. Like 15 days late when I know with absolute certainty that I’m not pregnant because 1. According to tests, I haven’t been ovulating for awhile despite getting my period in the past. 2. It’s been a long time since we last had sex. 3. I’ve been so stressed with everything that I’ve lost my sex drive. (If found please return to me directly, thanks.) 4. Did I mention that its been a long time since we last had sex? Cause I actually don’t remember when unless I check my iPeriod app.

I’m just tired of the pain, of all of this. I just want the only thing I ever dreamed of doing in my life: being a mom.

Sick To Death Of Death

Posted on August 2, 2013 by imfluffyowl

I’m just gonna put this out there, I’m sick of death.

I’m so tired of going to wakes and funerals and sending condolences and sudden deaths and slowly watching people die. I need some time where I’m not bombarded by death. Universe, I get it, you hold all the cards and we are mere players in a game we don’t know the rules for. No need for the reminders anymore.

In the past month and a half a friend lost her father, then 2 friends lost their grandmothers within days of each other. Last week another friend lost her father suddenly. Then, the day after I attended the funeral for my friends father, and the day we found a new home for our dog (because of my husbands sudden bad allergic reaction to the dog we loved so much) I walked into work to find out that one of my co-workers was riding her bike and was struck from behind on the highway by a car driven by an 18 year old. Rumors are circulating that the kid was text messaging when they hit her and now her 3 children are without their mom.

The first hour of my shift today was spent with my co-workers in a mandatory group grief counseling session to help process the death of our co-worker. Nightshift at my job is different from the day shift. We are a closer, tight knit group, and even though I’ve only been there since mid-May, I’m incredibly close to those on my team. She was on the upstairs team but all of the nightshift tends to mingle together and you get to know everyone. So its no surprise that my supervisor broke down in tears when she told us, and its no surprise that work has been somber and we are all grieving for her, even after knowing her for such a short time. So its also no surprise that one of the other teams took up a collection and used that to treat both our team and upstairs team to hot tea and coffee and sweets on our first break after our grief counseling. Things like that make you want to go back to work and put extra effort into what you do. It shows you that despite the sadness and death, there are still kind and loving people in this world.

Then to add to that, my grandfathers health is bad. I could say its less than stellar, but lets call a spade a spade. It’s bad, it’s not going to get better and I’ll admit it, I’m scared. Many in the family don’t see him on a day to day basis because they live away, but me and mom see it, dad sees it when he’s home. It’s slowly getting worse. I’m scared that he’s next. He’s sleeping all the time now. If we take him out anywhere, he can’t kept his balance, even with a walker. He doesn’t want to do anything anymore other than sleep all day. When I visit, he asks me if I’m working. When I tell him yes, he asks where. Then I tell him where and he berates himself because he knew that. Then he asks how I’m doing. 5 minutes later, after a lull in the conversation, he looks at me and asks if I’m working again. I don’t have the heart to tell him that he already asked me that so I just answer again. He’s made so many jumps from bad to good, always with the seasons. In the winter months he’s bad and he always jumped back in the spring and summer. But it’s summer and he’s not jumping back like he always did. A year or two ago, the doctors told us that with his heart condition, he would be fine until he’s not. That’s what happens with this condition. They told us that we shouldn’t be surprised if he were to pass in his sleep. And as much as him passing away will break all of us in the family, I hope that he goes peacefully in his sleep. It’s so hard to watch him waste away.

And I guess, that’s my reasoning for my absence as of late. My weekend comes and I want to escape. So that’s what I do. My weekends are spent with my husband who’s been doting on me constantly since Mia left (he fears I hate him because he is the reason why she had to go, even if I don’t and could never hate him), and Saturdays are turning into a weekly ritual with friends where we spent Saturday nights sitting around a campfire. Friends have kept me busy, they invite me to the beach, their pools, out for coffee and sometimes board games. I’m back at the gym full swing, and dare I say it, but I finally attacked that spare bedroom I’ve been talking about for months. It’s half done and I plan on finishing it as soon as my weekends allow it. Other than the push I had to put in for a guest blog spot over at The Infertility Voice about the royal baby (thanks so much for the guest spot, Keiko!!), I really haven’t had much time or energy to put towards a half decent post. I thought about it, glanced through my news feed, but I really didn’t have the time to even comment on posts, let alone write a post. I still have to get around to some congratulations (yes D, I’m talking to you! Keep those beta numbers rising!!) and go through my back log of posts in my reader and try to add those comments I’ve been desperate to find the time to do.

I hope everyone is well. If I missed any big news, leave an update in the comments and I’ll head over to catch up. Love, as always, to everyone!

xoxo