Not Enough Answers

I'm a planner. I've always been a planner. I love sitting down and planning our my life for the next six months, year, 50 years. I'll admit that my plans usually never turn out how I plan. But simply having a plan helps me function, because I have goals and I spend each day visualizing those goals and working toward achieving those goals. My plans are my security blanket and I need my security blanket.

I think one thing that has be so down in the dumps here lately is that I've hit a wall as far as my ability to make plans are concerned. I can't make plans for six months or a year down the road because all the plans I have all depend on wether or not I'm pregnant six months or a year from now. And I certainly can't make plans concerning our TTC efforts because I can't see past tomorrow.

I take my Met.formin faithfully, but is it enough? Is just trying to shed some weight and get my testosterone levels down going to be enough to get me pregnant? How long do I give it before I seek out fertility treatments? Do I give it 6 months to work? A year?

What about the C.lomid? I know that is our next step, but how long do I give it to work? Four months? Six months? Nine months? What if it doesn't work? Do I try different drugs such as F.emara? How far am I willing to go to get pregnant? How much money am I willing to spend? When is enough enough?

What about adoption? Do we try everything to get pregnant first, or do we pursue adoption while seeking fertility treatments? What type of adoption is right for us? Domestic Infant? International? Foster Care? How long do we wait before we start the adoption process?

So very many questions, and none of which I have answers for. I can't make plans for the future because the future is so blurry and uncertain. I can only see to next Friday when the Mr. is scheduled to see a urologist to try and get a referral for a Semen Analysis. (Hey, I'm not going to put my body through the wringer with fertility meds and what-not if their is something wrong with the Mr. Plus, it'll either give me peace of mind or put more pressure on me if his SA is normal).

So I'm at a place right now where I am forced to live one day at a time, and nothing stresses me out more than that.

I Cried Last Night

This post contains a lot of negativity and TMI. You've been warned.

I'm depressed. I admit it. I feel awful, physically and emotionally, and I'm depressed about every aspect of my life right now. And I'm ok with that. This is the way I seem to be dealing with things and I'm fine with that because at least I know I'm dealing. 


Last night I had a breakdown. I'm usually on the verge of a breakdown two or three times a day, but I can usually take a couple of minutes to pull myself together and get on with my so-called life. Last night I couldn't pull myself together, I didn't even try. I just opened the floodgates and let everything I was feeling come pouring out. The only thing that bothers me about this breakdown was when it happened. It happened last night when the Mr. and I were having sex. Yep, I became an emotional basket case right in the middle of our sexy, fun, baby-making time. We were in the bedroom, all hot and heavy, when suddenly I was filled with such disgust and hatred for my body. It was like all at once I could literally feel every one of the forty pounds I've gained this past year and a half (thank you PCOS)! I could feel the bulge in my boobs, in my belly, in my butt and hips. And suddenly it was like I didn't want the Mr. to look at me, or touch me. I was so ashamed of the fat slob I had become. It didn't matter that the weight gain wasn't my fault, that my body and hormone levels had decided to screw me over and no matter how much I tried to diet and exercise I never saw results.

Along with these familiar feelings of loathing and disgust came an unfamiliar feeling. Anger. Suddenly I was mad. And I'm the type of person who can handle loathing and disgust, but when I get mad I cry. And then I get mad because I'm crying, which makes me cry harder. (See the never-ending cycle here?) So during sex last night I just started sobbing, and scared the Mr. I'm sure he probably thought he'd hurt me somehow. But then I explained to him why I was crying and he just curled up next to me and held me, and stroked my hair, and listened as I vented about all the things I was mad about.

I'm mad about the weight gain (obviously) and how I seem to have no control over it, or my body.

I'm mad about the fact I have PCOS.

I'm mad at how my "friends" can get pregnant the first time they have sex without using prevention.

I'm mad about how above "friends" can actually feel disappointment at the fact their baby doesn't have a penis. (At least you have a baby)

I'm mad that I have to take medicine, and will probably have to take a lot more than I'm taking now, to try and get my body to do what it's supposed to do.

But mostly I'm mad about the way people are judging me.

I've been judged about my weight gain and told how I need to "get it under control" and how that "If I'm not careful I'm just going to BALLOON when I get pregnant."

I've confided in some people about how if the Met.formin doesn't work the next step for us is C.lo.mid, and I've been judged on even considering taking any type of fertility medicine. After all, "I definitely don't want to do that" and "deal with all those nasty side effects and birth defects" and "your taking the situation out of God's hands" and I "sure don't want to have 5 or 6 babies at one time." (Because the chance of multiples is so high with the lowest dose of C.lo.mid). I've decided that if it comes to that I'm not even going to tell anyone that I'm taking it.

But I believe the thing that gets me the most is the way people are judging me based on how I feel. I am so sick of being told to "just cheer up" and how I'm "not having faith and trust in God and His plans for my life," and how people "hate seeing me so down and wish I'd just snap out of it."

These types of attitudes just add to my frustration and they make me feel even worse. If I could "get control" of my weight I would, I would've done it a long time ago. I'd like to see how these people would handle it if they dieted and exercised and only saw an increase in their weight. I bet some of them would be a little frustrated and depressed. As for the Cl.om.id, all the people who have told me this had a  child, or several, by the time they were my age. Most of them while they were still in their teens. I admit I'm a control freak, but I know God holds the world in His hands, and if taking a couple rounds of Cl.om.id makes me feel better because it makes me feel like I'm doing something, what business is it of anyone else's. And as for the way I feel, I flat out refuse to feel guilty over my depression. I've got a lot going on right now and I don't feel like plastering a fake smile on my face and pretending like everything is right with the world just because seeing me depressed makes you uncomfortable. For the first time in a very long time my main concern is me and I could care less about your comfort or what bothers you. If you want to help just let me feel what I'm feeling and be there if/when I need somebody to talk to. I'm sure I'll "snap out of this" eventually, but for right now, I just don't want to.

A New Drug

So I had an appointment with Dr. Lady Parts today. It was time for my yearly "violation"and I wanted to discuss with her my very disappointing lack of a period. (Seriously, I've had 3 periods this year and they've all been brought on my some type of pill). My appointment was at 1:30 and I finally get put in a room around 2:45. I was already frustrated/upset because of the super long wait (hello, people, I have better things to do than waste my life in your waiting room), but then I finally get ushered into a room to change and there sitting next to the table where I'm supposed to lay down and spread my legs is the ultra sound machine thing. And on this ultra sound machine thing is a...wait for it...picture of a baby!!! So apparently my Dr.'s office was so busy they didn't even have time to clean the gel off the wand or clear the picture of the baby off the screen.

I seriously almost puked.

So, when Dr. Lady Parts walked in and asked how things were going I nearly lost it emotionally. Thankfully, I didn't crumble into a ball on the floor and start whimpering like the wounded animal I felt like. (But I wanted to).

Anyway, we had a nice long chat and she decided to put me on M.et.formin. It's a diabetic drug that's supposed to help lower insulin; and even though my insulin levels are fine, she said that putting me on this should help lower my testosterone levels. She also told me not to beat myself up because even with all my efforts (exercise, changing my eating habits) I've only managed to gain weight. She said that my difficulty to lose weight is due to my PCOS, which she is convinced I have, and that my weight wasn't my fault. She said the M.et.formin should help me lose weight too and hopefully the lower testosterone levels and weight loss will help regulate my menstrual cycles.

I was surprised that she didn't give me another round of P.rovera, but she said with me trying to get pregnant  she was apprehensive to give me another round quite so soon. However, she did mention that a next possible step for us would be a round of P.rovera followed my a light round of C.lo.mid.

Ever since I left her office I feel good and hopeful. I'm hoping with lower testosterone levels and weight loss I can start ovulating. (I'm excited just for the help with the weight loss. I'm tired of feeling like a fat cow!)

 When I started my TTC journey in January I knew I wouldn't get pregnant right away. However, I sincerely believed I would be pregnant by Christmas. Now I'm thinking that may not be the case, and I'm having a hard time accepting that possibility.

Bad Night

I'm so emotional tonight. For some reason I just want to sit down and have myself a good, long, soul-cleansing cry. I've been on this emotional roller coaster the past couple of days, one minute I'm fine, completely happy and content with life; the next I'm fighting back tears, convinced nothing will ever change.

On top of being weepy, I'm having lower abdominal cramps and my face has broken out worse than when I was fourteen. I hate this feeling. If I had even a resemblance of a normal cycle I'd say the Red Lady is on the verge of making her appearance, but I  haven't had a period on my own in two years so I don't think that's likely. It doesn't help that I'm having the "urge." You know the one, the one that involves a stick and a lot of crying. But I'm fighting it. I'm tired of wasting my money on negatives. It just makes me sick that my mind keeps whispering "maybe?" "just maybe." "After all, you haven't had a period in two months."  Whatever. If my body would do what it's supposed to I wouldn't be in this predicament every month. I guess I could handle it better if I didn't have this incredible fear that I'm going to end up on the horrid show I D.idn't K.now I Was P.reg.nant.

I've got my yearly with Dr. Lady Parts next week and they always make me pee in a cup. I'm determined not to POAS and just let them tell me I'm NOT pregnant. At least maybe that'll kill my urge to take a HPT.

Usually I can cuddle up to the Mr. and let him console me through the rough moments, but the poor guy has been in bed asleep since 8:00. He's been working so much the last couple of weeks, 10 and 12 hour shifts weekdays and then 8 hours on Saturday and Sunday. He's not had a day off since we got back from our vacation. I want desperately to have him hold me right now and tell me that everything is going to be ok, but I feel guilty at even the thought of waking him up when he's so tired.

So I turn to my blog. I'm not sure if anyone reads this, but it still helps to vent and confide in my imaginary readers.

It's A Miracle

What is a miracle? you may ask. A miracle is an extraordinary/divine event, and life is a miracle. I think sometimes we forget how much of a miracle life is. After all, it's all around us; plants, animals, people, lots of life everywhere. Life has been around since the beginning of time, it doesn't seem to be that big a deal. 

When you think of miracles, you don't think of ordinary, everyday things, like life. After all millions of babies, miracles, are born each year. Some people are able to have multiple miracles, like 19, in their lifetime. Others are not in a good place and make the brave decision to bless someone else with their miracle. Still others terminate their miracle because it was unexpected and unwanted. Life doesn't seem like much of a miracle, until your unable to produce it. 

Only when a baby eludes you can you fully appreciate how much of a miracle a baby, life, is. Weeks turn into months and months turn into years and still that miracle of life, that you desperately want, eludes you. What do you do? You watch friends, family, acquaintances (basically everyone around you) get pregnant. You get to hear all their complaints about how miserable their miracle is making them and how they just want it to be over. You go to baby showers to bless and give gifts to their miracles, while you endure your own pain silently, with a smile forced on your face. You force a congratulations past your lips when someone announces a pregnancy announcement then dissolve into tears when you're alone because after all she "wasn't even trying." And you wonder why a miracle doesn't seem to be happening for you. 

Then occasionally you remember that you are a miracle. That's why I titled my post A Daily Miracle, because each day I wake up, and get to live on this earth, is a miracle. I'm surrounded by life, I may not have it growing in me, but I can look around and appreciate what God has blessed me with. And I can be thankful for the life I'm living. I try to remind myself that each day I have is a miracle, a daily miracle, and when our children come into our lives that will be even more miracles for me to appreciate and be thankful for. 

Life is CRAZY

...crazy busy. Here is a glimpse of what's been going on:

Finished the summer semester. (All A's...go me!)
Had a second interview with a different district.
Finally broke town and POAS (negative, of course).
Went on vacation with our best friends.
Got dog #3.
Had to make an unexpected trip to my parents to deal with some family drama.
Picked up my sister so she could stay a few days with us, and been trying to find ways to keep her entertained.

Like I said, it's been crazy busy around here and I still haven't finished unpacking from our trip.

I called Dr. Lady Parts and made an appointment for the 20th of this month. I've determined that the Red Lady isn't going to make an appearance without some help. I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever have a period on my own again. I am so not looking forward to the nasty side effects P.rovera dishes out, but I guess I have no choice but to live with it. A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.