Errrm…. sorry for the crickets over here. Life has been crazy busy and I keep meaning to blog, but then I think my “updates” are kind of lame and non-updatey, so it never really happens.
Work/business has been crazy, plus we relocated our office to the ‘burbs, and I’m frantically working on creating our website, so—whew! Then, just when I planned to post an update, all the election insanity hijacked the blogosphere. I wanted to wait for that to calm down in my feed before posting. This is a (in)fertility blog and I intend to keep it that way, so have no fear of interposing political views here! There’s plenty of other places to get your politix fix. All I will say on the matter is that I continue to pray for the ever-widening gulf which is so bitterly dividing our great country to be repaired. *end of non-fertility talk*
In the meantime, I have been following everyone else’s blogs on my feed. Please know that I grieve with those of you who’ve recently experienced losses. I celebrate with those of you who’ve gotten your miracle babies or that long-awaited BFP. And I completely identify a million percent with those still of you (well, “us”) still stuck in the trenches. It’s a tough, tough place to live.
The most exciting thing fertility-wise that I have to report is that I finally—after 4 months—had/am having an honest-to-God regular cycle! Sounds like kind of ho-hum news, right? But so far 2016 is going down in history as The Year of Stupid Cycles. I’ve had three (possibly four) bona fide, full cycles complete with ovulation this year. Miscarriage #2 really threw my body for a loop. This was after it took so.many.years to even have regular cycles to begin with. So having my body back on track feels pretty fantastic.
As the holidays draw near, I’m feeling just a tad desperate to end this year on a high note (read: pregnant) and time is a-tickin’. AF is due next week, and I’m praying and doing all the right things. Yep, it’s all pineapple core and brazil nuts and 24/7 sock-wearing around Marixsa’s crib these days. Even though I’m more than five years into this thing and I should know better by now, here I am on cycle day 26 symptom-spotting and chock full of hope. Or maybe naiveté. Or insanity.
Oh yeah. And that whole surgery thing? I never did have my surgical consult back in October that I was so excited about, though not for lack of trying. See, this past year my long-buried anxiety disorder has made a full-out reappearance. This dramatically affects my ability to drive—even though I take medication—without having a panic attack. More on that another post. The solution was to take an Uber to my consult, but it didn’t quite work out. For no particular reason the day of my consult, traffic was backed up 20X more than usual. I spent an hour in the backseat of some Uber driver’s car in dismay staring at a sea of brake lights. In that time, we managed to go four whole miles. There was no way I was making it to the appointment on time. Unfortunately, that surgeon’s office is unrealistically far for me. I never rescheduled the appointment.
Never one to easily give in to defeat, I found a new surgeon! This new doctor is also an hour away, but in an area that is all back roads and near the town I grew up in. Okay: doable. Well, doable with an extra dose of anxiety meds. He uses the Da Vinci robotic method, which I’ve had in a prior surgery and am a fan of. My surgical consult is scheduled for December 9. Surgery #5 will hopefully be in the early part of 2017.
Finally, I am hosting Thanksgiving this year! I typically usually do host it, except for last year when I boycotted the holiday. Since then, it’s taken me a very long time to return to feeling like I want to do anything at all. Most of this past year I’ve been a complete homebody. Isolation and avoiding people were my specialties. Lately that cloud has been slowly lifting, and I am tentatively taking baby steps back into actual living. I have to admit, it’s nice to be back participating in my own life again, although I don’t feel like the same person anymore. In some ways, ongoing infertility and multiple miscarriages have changed and shaped me into a new person: a person who I’m slowly learning to live with. Thirteen family members, including the infamous Baby, will be descending upon my house in three days’ time. Living cautiously in case of pregnancy means I’ll be doing Thanksgiving sans wine, so, please, pray for me.