Posts Tagged ‘Internal Dialogue’

A Look Into the Insanity Inside My Brain

It seems like the last week or two has been a war of two thoughts.
And it goes a little something like this:
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Stress Mess: Ohmagosh!!! You’re job ends at the end of this month. Ends! This month! AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Calmly Content: Stop stressing. Just take this one day at a time.  Apply for jobs, do a little job hunting every day so it doesn’t get overwhelming.

SM: How can you be so naive? You are coming up on 5 months pregnant, and the job market blows. Everything either doesn’t pay enough to live off of, is too physically demanding for you, or you never get a call back.  How are you going to do this, how are you going to survive?! This isn’t just about you, or Hubster, there is a little baby to take care of and provide for!!!

CC: Come on, we have X amount of money in saving, in the trust. You can more than survive for several months without a job if you have to.  If you really tightened the belt, you could survive for more than a year.

SM: Ok, but that money is only going to last so long, and you can’t rely on it! Even if the job market was hot, how realistic is it that you could land a job this far along in your pregnancy? If I was being really honest… I feel that it’s unfair that the pregnant lady has all the responsibility to bring in the income. Seriously, I feel resentful that Hubster isn’t trying to find a full time job.

CC: WHAT?  How can you say that?! He supported you through 8 years of college! He finally has found a career path, something that could become a great career, that could support this family for decades to come! Something that he wouldn’t hate! Remember all the jobs he has hated??? Look, you know plenty of single moms, who had to sustain themselves through pregnancy and beyond. You just need to get your ass in gear and stop whining!  Figure out what you need to do to provide for your family.

SM: Look, I don’t enjoy being resentful. I’m just trying to be honest. I’m so overly emotional with pregnancy hormones. I just need to feel like we are both providing for this family. And yes, Hubster does all kinds of amazing-wonderful-fabulous things… but not only am I supposed to bring in all the moola, but I’m still pulling the majority of the weight in the housekeeping department!  And don’t even get me started that as I’m job hunting, I’m also having to consider whether or not I could bring the baby with me to work, and if not, the idea of trying to research (and pay for!) a childcare option!!! I’m just so exhausted, emotionally and physically. I’ve been crying at the drop of a hat. *crying as I’m typing this* I really just don’t feel like I can do all of this.  I can feel the depression circling in the shadows.  I’ve been off antidepressants for so long, and I can’t go back to it, I just CAN’T! I’m just not strong enough.

CC: Ok, look. At the end of the day, you know this is true: sometimes we have difficulties in life. And you can make a choice to either bear this with joy and humility, or you can be self centered, selfish and give into negative feelings towards your husband – and father of the child inside of you! You just wrote an entire post about Embracing Trials and Tribulations, remember?!?! Stop wasting time and energy on this, and know that God has this all figured out. And ya, it might be really hard, and times may get really lean, but you will survive this.  You know other families with more children and tighter finances, and God is sustaining them.  God will sustain you as well.

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And round and round it goes. I don’t want to be resentful of Hubster, I want to support him.  I want to be strong enough. But I can feel the symptoms of anxiety and depression rising. I’m sure everyone would say “you can do this!” but what if I can’t? What if I’m really not strong enough? Why can’t a woman every just say “I cannot do it all?!?!” without being attacked by well-intentioned-but-ultimately-unhelpful-and-unrealistic-feminism?!?!?! But I also can’t ignore that my conscience is reminding me of my faith and my religious beliefs.

I just need to get to bed, because tomorrow is another busy, emotional day!

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These storm clouds don’t have a silver lining.

Yesterday, I inadvertently hurt two very wonderful people in my life.

One was a fellow blogger.  The other was my dear aunt.  The incidents were completely unrelated, but it was a heartbreaking way to begin the day.  I have sent private apologies to both of these two women, and done everything I can to make amends.

My post, that I wrote in a highly-emotionally-charged state, has been removed.  While my intentions were to encourage support for another blogger, my writing did not portray what I meant it to.

I overlooked the fact that I betrayed her trust and I seriously crossed a line.

My aunt had initiated a conversation about my pregnancy.  My attempts at explaining to my aunt some of our pregnancy/parenting plans was taken as a personal attack.  It was absolutely not meant to come across that way.

I have been literally sick to my stomach, nauseous all day as I have run the conversations over and over in my head, trying to decide on the best courses of action.  I am not a perfect person, I take full responsibility for my gross oversights. For my full-on FUCK-UPS.

My previous post had very few views, and by removing the post it will never be seen again.  I wish with all my might that I had never published it.

I wish I had not alienated my aunt.

I wish there was something more that I could do.

Cycles. And I don’t mean bicycles.

I woke up this morning and glanced at the calendar.  And then I looked again.  Why?  Because I’m on cycle day 26.  For most women, this would be well within the realm of normalcy.  But I tend to have cycles lasting 21-24 days.  Not the “average” of 26 to 28.  At first there is that spark in the back of my brain “Maybe I’m pregnant!”  … but then I remember that would be basically impossible, since the only sex we’ve had has been with protection, as we have still yet to get Hubster in for his HIV test.  And as far as I can imagine, a broken condom would have been fairly obvious.  But I can’t help but run down the “pregnancy checklist”…. which is pretty close to the “PMS checklist”.  Moody and craving chocolate?  Yes. (But not as moody as I usually am before my period either)  Frequent urination, breast tenderness, excessive tiredness? Nope.

And let’s not forget that the irony behind a woman getting pregnant “on accident” after over 2 years of unsuccessful attempts/fertility assistance is so grossly large, I don’t know what I would do with myself except feel like a total loser, imposter, fake and fraud of infertility.

So no, I won’t POAS.  I’m sure I have some HPTs, in the back of the cabinet under the sink, but I’m not wasting my time, emotions or sanity on them.

All that it comes down to is that now, my body (while within the length of the average woman’s normal cycle, but NOT mine) is a week late.  My body is up to new shenanigans.  I’m not sure if it’s doing this to screw with me; if I should take it that by lasting longer it’s a good sign that maybe my body is becoming magically fertile, or if I should take it as a bad sign that my body is getting more messed up then ever and that my biological clock is in it’s final wind-down death-throes stage.

Please, Hubster get your booty into that stupid office so you can take the stupid blood test so we can get back into stupid fertility treatments so I can figure out what’s going on with my stupid body!

Or maybe my period can just start later today making this entire post and insanity-filled-inner-dialogue moot.

At the intersection of Rock Rd. and Hard Pl.

I have to figure out how to balance the emotions of my job.

I think that it goes without saying that working in veterinary medicine is an emotional field.  Besides the obvious stress of “customer service” (dealing with owners in a variety of emotions themselves from happiness, to anger to depression) it is also straining to see animals suffering, attempt to control fractious critters, and make sure all the medical documentation is correct.  And that’s just in an average clinic.  We are a large, multi-doctor  practice.  So I have a lot of bosses.  Bosses with a variety of opinions on exactly what the medical protocols are, how they like animals to be restrained, what items are to be prioritized… the list goes on and on.  And then  on top of that, is my fellow co-workers, and then my real boss, the hospital administrator (aka manager).  She has her own expectations, priorities etc etc ad nauseum.

And really, truly, I try my best that when I leave work, I leave my work at work.  I love my job.  Really and truly.  But I go through a lot of highs and lows in each shift, and I can’t come home, second guessing everything.  Saturday was a particularly high-emotion day, we had several emergency/walk-in situations and so one of the vet’s got a bit short with me.  I tried my best to keep doing what I needed to do but I was frustrated with myself for not having anticipated what he would have wanted and so I was crying.  When my administrator walked up to me and basically told me that I did a great job, and that the vet was basically overreacting.  She even went on to pull me aside at the end of the day to tell me what a great job I did that day, and that when I went home to not think twice about the incident.

(I cannot believe how lucky I am to have such a wonderful boss.  One who stands up to an angry veterinarian, and goes out of her way to boost her employees instead of waiting until there is a problem and just reprimanding me.)

But the plain fact is, is that I came home.  Dragged myself up the stairs.  Crawled into bed.  And cried.

Not because it was a terrible-awful-no-good-day, but because I was just that tired.

I keep waiting to not be so worn out at the end of a shift.  And in some ways I am a lot less tired.  But, at the same time, I don’t know how much longer I can do a job I care about so much.  But I also don’t know how to not care.  I can’t imagine doing this and being pregnant, or doing this and parenting a small child.

So, how do I care, without caring too much?  If you don’t care enough, you become a crappy technician.  But if you care too much, you become a zombie (aka bitchy wife – just ask my poor husband)

Rock.  Hard place.  Me.

Getting Back in the Game

Today is Cycle Day 1.

I was caught totally unprepared at work.  Thank goodness most of my coworkers are women, and were able to find a stash of items to help me out.

It’s strange to think that somehow over the last several months I have completely lost track of my cycle.

A part of me wonders what has become of me.  “Who are you, and what have you done with the fertility obsessed Bleeding Tulip?”

We in ALI blogs often talk about the importance of “keeping busy” in order to handle the depression, obsession, and paranoia that accompany our experiences.  I think I realized that it is more than ubiquitous “busyness” that is needed to reclaim our mental health.  It is a pursuit of of the things worth living for.  (Yes, yes, imagine I said that like Miracle Max.  Ahhhhhh… Princess Bride…)  The things that will be important even after a child comes into the picture, and are important if a child never does come into the picture.  The things that define who we are; what our life means.

I have felt so guilty, abandoning the blogosphere.  But as much as I thought about, and hoped everyone was doing well, I just couldn’t motivate myself to sit down and read about infertility and babies.  Because there was a point where that was ALL I thought about.  No matter what else was going on, no matter how important or meaningful my surrounding tangible events were.  I was losing who I was to this disease.  Even as I had a smile on my face, and carried on normal conversations, my brain was constantly returning to ALI topics.  And it hurt.  I was basically becoming a masochist.  I hated the pain, depression, obsession… but I couldn’t let it go either. I thought “If I let this go for a month, 1 month will turn into 6 months; and 6 months will turn into 1 year; and 1 year will turn int 5 or 10 or 20 and I can not live with never having children!”

I didn’t let it go contentiously.  It was more just a product of throwing myself into the important things.  The things worth living for.  I dug deep into my faith, pushed myself to excel in my career field, and got back to a sense of normalcy in my marriage.  In many ways I even had some distance from important friends and family members, and I pursued my sense of self.  (Not that I was thinking “I am pursuing my sense of self!” in the midst of it all.  I basically was thinking “I’m focusing on what is important right now in order to be healthy.”)

I had a really great (albeit busy!) holiday season.  Two Thanksgivings (One with my mom, one with my dad), 3 Christmas’s (Mom and cousins, Hubster, and Dad), and a negligable New Year (The Dark Knight watched at home, in bed before midnight, worked the next day).  But all the events were laid back, without a lot of fanfare or formality, and that fit in just fine with what I needed.

So much of this has been about pursuing all around health.  Body, Mind, Soul.  Lowering certain expectations so that my stress level could become more manageable.

So back to the beginning of my post.  Cycle Day 1.  In a lot of respects, getting my period completely unexpected made me realize how far I have come.  It was a gory red mess of a symbol that I am in a much better head-space.  Next month my insurance will start (along with other great benefits of my job!) and we will begin the process of trying again.  I’ll make an appointment with a general practitioner, find out what will be covered (if anything), and start the insurance-hoop-jumping-game.  But I am going to do it so differently that I did the last time.  I will do it so much healthier than last time.  And I will do it with a real sense of what is important.  Of who I am, and how important it is I don’t lose that along the way.

Because the fact is, there is a chance that this wont work.  And that, for some unknown reason, adoption wont work.  And Hubster and I will need to be able to be able to survive that.

New Year.  New Head-Space.  I’m coming back in the game, and will be getting back to reading blogs, but I know I wont be doing it to the degree I once did.  I want to support you guys, and I know I will need support too.  I just know I also need to play with the dogs, watch movies with my husband, pray in church, study up on the newest medicine in my field.  I finally feel balanced.

Please know I have thought of you all, and I dearly sincerely hope nobody felt hurt or abandoned.

The Drinking Infertile (An Insomniac Rant)

I had a number of comments on my previous post, from wistful women wishing they had a beer.  So I figured I would take a moment to explain why I drink. (Insert witty joke here….  I know you wanna)

When I first started TTC, I seem to recall I did everything “correct”.  I stopped drinking, stopped smoking (I was only an occasional purveyor of cloves and shisha in a hooka, so it wasn’t that big of a deal) and ate right blah blah blah.  6 months down the road my charts were flat-lined, I went to a fertility doctor, ran a lot of blood-work and inter-vaginal ultrasounds (Goodbye personal bubble!) and determined I. Don’t.  Ovulate.

I have a medical condition that inhibits my ability to get pregnant.

No amount of teetotalling will change this.

I just do not believe that one night of beers with friends will impact my pregnancy chances 2 months down the line.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I, as a general rule, am someone who is a worrier.  Paranoid.  Second-Guesser.  I remember having my first panic attack in 5th grade.  And they continued through High School and into College before I finally saught the help I needed to get it under control.

I still occasionally have panic attacks.

BUT – Because I tend to be strung-so-tight, I have come to a place where for the sake of MY sanity (not to mention Hubster’s) I just have to let some things go and think logically.  *Do not attempt this on your own, I am a trained professional.-I know many of you readers out there are thinking you want to try this at home ;)*  Admittedly, this has taken a long time.  Several people (A licensed Psychologist, Psychiatrist and numerous Counselors) were involved in me coming to this place.  There are certain things that I will do to try and feel “in control”, but the fact is, that there is really nothing I can do that will 100% guarantee me a pregnancy, let alone a successful full term pregnancy, let alone a child who is healthy, smart, well behaved, well adjusted, and eventually a successful adult.  Sure, some things will help my chances, but I do not enjoy being stressed out, paranoid and anxious.  So occasionally I’m going to have a beer with my friends (as long as I know I am not pregnant), and occasionally (when I can fork over $12 a gallon) I am going to have super-tasty, super-nutritious raw milk.  And I’m going to hang out with friends that are sick, and friends’ kids that are sick.  And expose my immune system to all sorts of junk so that it can build itself up – I’m working on being the healthiest old lady ever.

I refuse to live in a bubble.  (Unless I suddenly find I have some kind of auto-immune disorder.  And for my readers who do have that, I absolutely understand that you have to live a certain way.)  By freaking out over every decision “Can I have a drink with my friends?  Should I only have a sip?  No, I’m going to hold out in the event that this one drink could ruin my chances of fertility forever more…” it just makes me one insane stress-case.  I remind myself of all the women in history who drank alcohol (because water wasn’t always safe) and all the women who regularly consumed non-pasteurized (aka Raw) milk and milk products.  All the women who smoked and wore corsets during their pregnancy and did hard drugs and still got pregnant and stayed pregnant.  Women who were a lot harder on their bodies then I am on mine.

Now, I say all this while I am still not trying to conceive.  With Hubster currently working 12 hour days, 7 days a week, there has not been time to go get the HIV test, let alone any energy for sex.  (I hate the term “baby dancing” BTW… since it means SEX, it just sounds really immature.  We’re all adults, lets use the “grown up” words!)  So I am just focusing on losing weight, being all-around healthy (body, mind, and soul) and he will take the test in January, and start trying in February when my insurance kicks in.  Perhaps at that time I will start stressing out and decide to isolate myself.  This is when I wish I had started blogging when I first started TTC, so I could look back and really see what I had done back then….

I hope that by getting this out of my brain I can now go to sleep, stupid insomnia came on suddenly which made me get out of bed and come over to the laptop… but now that I have written when I’ve been stupidly thinking about, I’m hoping I can fall asleep because it is 1am and my alarm goes off at 5:30…. Joy.

First day on the job

Hey ladies.

Well, first day on the job was GREAT.  I fit right in, was laughing and joking with everyone on the staff (including the head vet!), it felt like I had worked there forever, not just one day!  I really have a good feeling about this job.  Surprisingly, for a “day practice”, it wasn’t just a bunch of boring vaccine appointments, we had all sorts of interesting and even emergency cases come in today, which tells me that I wont be getting bored anytime soon!

As promised, here is a (crappy) picture of me this morning in my new scrubs (sadly Hubster was already gone for his job, so it’s just me a la the bathroom mirror)

I was having SUCH  a great day I even had this thought.  And yes, I know I know, it’s blaspheme, but it was just a fleeting thought.  I swear.

In 90 days my insurance kicks in. So when insurance kicks in, we get back to trying for a baby.  Assuming it happens right away (I know, I can hear y’all laughing, but run with me here) that means that after 9 months of pregnancy, I will only be at this job for 1 year before I will leave for maternity leave.  And… well… this job is so cool… I don’t know that I want to be out of there in one year!

I know, I KNOW, totally blasphemous.

But then I checked my email tonight, and in there was some pictures of my new niece.  And while normally I get all gooey at baby pictures, this time though… I felt all snarky and bitter.  Which tells me I’m probably feeling a bit jealous of my SIL.  Which means I really DO want a baby.

The problem is I WANT a lot of things.  I want a happy, fulfilling job.  And as far as I can tell, I can finally check that off my list.  I want a horse… Where I work is a much more rural area, and some of my co-workers ride.  A shot of someone riding on horseback on TV or in a movie can cause me to well up.  I basically do my best to close my eyes and cover my ears and sing LALALALA when horses pop up because it’s such an emotional connection for me.  But I also really want a baby, a family.  And I guess I just don’t see how I can really pursue both horses and kids at the same time.  Like I said, I’ve done a really good job the last couple years keeping focused on babies and ignoring horses, but it’s kind of more in my face now and I’m having to really face what I will really have to sacrifice to have a family, which includes time away from a really fabulous job.

It’s a weird head-space to be in.

I’m going to go wash my face, finish my Slee.pytime Vanilla tea (I’ve been hunting for this tea for several weeks and FINALLY found it tonight!  Yay!) and try to just go to bed without overthinking everything to the point of tears… but I also can’t deny the possibility.

There is this voice in my head that wants to smack me and tell me to just be happy.

What is wrong with me???????????????????????????????????