Karma Chameleon

Sharah at Outlandish Notions recently wrote a reflective post about motherhood, which prompted me to do a little reflecting of my own. I am definitely not one of those women who has always known that she wanted to be mother. I didn’t really play with baby dolls as a child….I played with Barbies, who I gave careers as doctors and lawyers. In my vast collection of Barbies, there was only a single Ken to be found and most certainly no Baby Barbies because Lawyer Barbie and Doctor Barbie certainly had no time for that.

On top of my apparent natural disinclination towards motherhood, I have two half-sisters who are seven and nine years younger than I am. Due to family circumstances, I ended up with a lot of responsibility for taking care of my sisters at a pretty young age. When I was fifteen, most of my friends babysat, but other than taking care of my sisters, I flat out refused to spend time with children.

For a long time, I wasn’t sure that I ever wanted children. I imagined myself with a fabulous career, lots of world travel, and exciting adventures. I thought I probably wouldn’t even get married until it was too late to have kids. Maybe I would have step-children, so someone else could deal with all the baby stuff. And then…

And then I met my husband. And then I knew what it was like to want to have children with another person. Not only because you think that person would be a great father, but because you know that the two of you would be good parents together.

And now that I want this so much, it turns out to be much more difficult to achieve than I ever imagined. I briefly tried to convince myself that maybe I didn’t really need to have kids, but this tactic failed miserably. Then I began to question….I am somehow less deserving because I wasn’t one of those girls who played with dolls and dreamed of having a baby before they even knew where babies came from? I don’t think so, but it is tempting to seek some kind of rationalization for everything that is happening. Part of me wants to find some thing that I did to make this happen, but of course, it’s not there.

And so, I am left with giving what I can to this process, which is what I think we are all doing in our own way, and (of course) trying to be a good person….just in case karma plays more of role than I would like to give it credit for

I Will Survive

OK, so I was feeling a little down yesterday. I didn’t even give Cyndi Lauper her due credit for yesterday’s blog title. “A little down” might be an understatement, but in any case, I am doing better today. I signed up for a 5-week yoga basics course that starts next week, so at least I am doing something. I actually use to do yoga pretty regularly, but it has been a while, so I figured I could benefit from a refresher course.

On the advice of the Atlanta Doctor, I have made an appointment for a consult with Super Surgeon and a follow-up with Atlanta Doctor in early August. This was the soonest date that I could see them both on the same day, which is pretty necessary since I am going to have to travel to Atlanta for this.

I am a little worried that I am going to have to go see my RE here (who I have decided to call Dr. Soap – he is tan, well-coiffed, and has a manicure – basically he looks like he should be on a soap opera) before August though. Bovary and Novary feel like they are regrowing some nice cysts for me and if today’s level of discomfort is any indication of their size, I won’t make it until August.

I really don’t want to have to go back to Dr. Soap at this point….I might be tempted to tell him that Atlanta Doctor says that Dr. Soap is providing sub-standard care and was totally irresponsible not to remove the cysts during my laparoscopy (he only drained them – yeah, thanks for the 95% chance of recurrence).  Plus, what is he going to do about the cysts if they have come back? I am certainly not letting him do another surgery at this point and if he tells me to take advil for the pain, I might have to kick him in the balls.

In other news, my SIL finally sent pictures of my new nephew….I am sure that I am biased, but he is a seriously cute baby.  DH and I are planning a trip to NY to see them in August….I hope that I am going to be okay and not totally lose it emotionally.  Given the vast difference between today’s mood and yesterday’s mood, I have a feeling it could go either way.

Thanks to Gloria Gaynor for today’s title. This song was released in 1978, but it was No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1979 and received a Grammy for Best Disco Recording in 1980.  So, it is not technically an ’80s song, but I love it anyway and I needed a little boost today.

Time after Time

A few weeks ago, DH and I decided to put fertility treatments (IVF) on hold for about six months.  The idea was that I would take that time to lose some weight, get in better shape, and generally prepare myself mentally and physically for a process that is bound to be stressful.

At this point, I am pretty sure that the only thing that is going to be different in six months is that I will be six months older.

I am frustrated and angry that I have put off IVF and now I do not seem to be able to make any of the changes that were supposed to justify the wait.

Part of that frustration is directed at myself….I feel like I am using work as an excuse not to do the things that I know I need to do (e.g., make time to exercise).  On the other hand, I am frustrated with the people around me who promised to support me and have totally let me down.

Don’t Stop Believin’

It’s amazingly hard for me to be in a bad mood when I have a Journey song stuck in my head and I am pretty sure that “Don’t Stop Believin’” is my all-time favorite Journey song.

It’s been more than a week since I last posted since DH and I were on vacation last week.  A lot has happened in that time and my emotions have definitely run the gamut from being totally depressed to being (cautiously) optimistic. In summary….

• I got a second opinion from an RE in Birmingham who basically agreed with my RE here…IVF is my best option due to PCOS and Stage IV endometriosis.
• I got a third opinion from an RE in Atlanta (via phone consult) who suggested that the care I have received from my RE here borders on malpractice and that I need to have surgery for my endometriosis before proceeding with any other fertility treatments.
• My sister-in-law gave birth to a baby boy.

I think those are the major things….hearing from the RE in Atlanta that he thinks I am receiving substandard care was horrible. It made me angry at my doctor here and angry at myself because I generally consider myself a well-informed patient.  How did I miss that my RE here was not doing what he should have been doing?  After having a week to reflect on this, I think the main issue is that I wanted so badly for things to go smoothly, for nothing else to be wrong with me, and most of all, to not lose hope that all of this is going to work, that I didn’t ask enough questions and I didn’t press my doctor, even when I thought he might not being doing enough.

So, a new plan is in the works….get a consult with a doctor who specializes in endometriosis surgery in Atlanta and go from there.  Between the serenity prayer and a good dose of Journey, I am hanging in there.

As far as the new nephew goes, I think I am doing okay with that one too.  Granted, I did spend most of yesterday in bed with the covers pulled over my head, but that is not a totally atypical way for me to spend a Sunday.