Possible trigger. You have been warned.

There are any number of reasons I haven't written a lot.
Some are personal; some logistical. But at any rate, I haven't so there you have it.

But we'll try to make up for that a little in this post.

Overall, pregnancy has been good to me. Headed into my third trimester and aside from expected issues, this has been going fairly well. Not necessarily smoothly and certainly not easily (making a human Bean is really hard work. I mean... REALLY hard), but overall no major issues.

I had my biggest scare this past Friday. I woke up with a sudden very sharp chest pain. Now, for those who know me, you probably also know this is not unfamiliar territory for me given my GI history. But, good baby-maker I currently am trying to be, I called my doctor's office from work and explained what happened and did they want to see me or was this another case of "normal but scary."

I was told to go to Labor & Delivery (L&D) as soon as possible.

Not quite what I wanted to hear, but given my esophageal spasms sometimes mimic a heart attack, I understood the concern.

L&D checked me and Bean out. She was fine (though a smidge ornery). I was starting to have my heart race and overall not feeling well. L&D doctor opted to send me to regular ER since this was obviously a medical, not OB issue.

I still wasn't too concerned. Chest spasms are scary, hospitals can make my pulse race and, well... I'm 27 weeks pregnant. Breathing issues are not uncommon.

But ER started to become concerned when I had to tell them a few years ago my mother had clots in her legs and they could not determine what caused them.

I painful IV stick, blood work, pee sample, EKG, ultrasound of both legs, check of all vitals and a chest X-ray later, docs were almost ready to rule out everything serious and chalk it up to GI (as I suspected and send me home). But one more consult and suddenly we were having conversations about the merits of a CT scan vs risks to check my lungs for a clot there.

I admit... I started to get a little panicky. This pregnancy was so hard to get to this point, I didn't want to take any chances. But... I couldn't very well walk out of there if *my* life was at risk either. Bean wouldn't fare too well at all without her life support system.

After a very lengthy conversation with the doc where I shared my concerns, my feelings on my GI history and overall opinion of the matter, he did agree that, while they couldn't rule out a clot 100% without a CT scan, he didn't think I LOOKED like someone experiencing a pulmonary embolism, he would agree with my assessment that it was GI.

So... home I went. Confident that I had done the right thing, and agreeing that if anything changed, I'd come right back to the ER.

Had dinner. Tried to rest. Heart started racing. Took BP and pulse. BP normal... but pulse was 101 resting. Continued to try to rest. Took again. 108. Took 20 min later. 121. In tears, had WB take me back to L&D.

Bean checked out fine again, but they opted to register me and get me a room.

Bean SERIOUSLY unhappy with being strapped to a bunch of monitors (ow the kicks).

OB doc went through the whole series of questions again and examined me. WB asked questions about the risks of the CT scan. OB explained and I started to feel better that this might be a better choice to just do it. OB went out to find my chart from earlier in the day to compare numbers.

WB looked at me, looked at what the monitors were doing and asked a very simple question: "What are you thinking right now?"

I started to explain that maybe I should just do the scan, though I didn't want to, I still thought it was GI, I felt dumb for being there again... then I started to cry. And backed up - No... I was lying... I was scared. All I could think about was Erik. And how I didn't want Bean to end up in jeopardy or with no Mommy because I was being stubborn.

This is the sort of things that start to go through your head when suddenly there's another little person very much dependent on you for everything.

And this is why I'm culling the herd, removing the drama and going back to a thought process of "who really needs to be in my life right now and for what reasons?"

The OB doc returned. She couldn't find my earlier chart (it wasn't uploaded into the main computer yet), so she couldn't compare numbers.

My pulse rate was back down under 100. Another discussion on couldn't rule out 100%, but I didn't LOOK like someone who was having a lung clot issue. I opted once again to pass on the CT scan and just go home.

I had 4 contractions while I was there, so she wanted to do an internal exam just to make sure everything was still good and I wasn't actually in pre-term labor. Also... ow. That was not a fun exam by any means. But it wasn't labor, everything was right where it was supposed to be. Go Bean - You're much better at handling this than your mom.

Follow-up with my regular doc tomorrow could result in them wanting to rule out the clot anyway. I'm ok if that's what they opt to do. After two days of resting, (and a horrid night of nothing but heartburn) I'm even more convinced this was a GI and probably anxiety attack series of episodes and not my lungs.

It's a chance to take, I realize. But I'm just taking things as they come and trying to reign in my anxieties.

It's funny (or maybe not) how you don't realize the underlying thoughts which you process at times. I did not realize how much Erik's death still weighs on me; affecting everything I do or think when it comes to health things. How much I let it run my life with fear, rather than being rational about things and working through them. I guess I will never fully be able to process that. I just have to learn how to keep fear and anxiety from getting the better of me...

One Year - Control & Hope

One year – and what a year it’s been since last I wrote of you.

It sometimes seems my heartaches could fill oceans. And years like this, I know my tears surely could. Yet one year, year upon year, all I can think is that I got beyond the heartache of losing you, I can get through all the rest.

It hurts sometimes to think about that call that night. The surreal feeling of it all; the numbness; the anger taken out on others (and the never saying “I’m sorry” for that... so I’ll say it now. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I yelled; I’m sorry I wasn’t more comforting for you. I’m sorry…). But like all pains, it does fade. It does move into a place of memory where it doesn’t hurt quite so much.

One year – this year – has seen me through a lot of tough times, a lot of anger, a lot of heartache, a lot of loss. Some I had no control over; some my control only goes so far and then I have to realize that it needs to be given over to others to remedy… and I have to learn to let it go and be at peace with a lack of control. 

This year’s “theme” is two parts – Control being the first.

 I control me. I control my feelings. I control my actions. I control my words. I own them, for better or for worse. But I cannot control those things in others. Though I can control how I choose to deal with feelings of being wronged, I cannot control the act in others. So, I accept that lack of control and move one for what is best for allowing me to control myself. Even if that means walking away. I own walking away… I control and accept that.

Last summer, right around this time, as a matter of fact, I was headed to my second IVF treatment. I remember thinking the timing was not lost on me. I took it as an omen… you were watching over me and mine and if we were going to succeed, this was the time. 

And succeed we did. I was certain you had “intervened” on this one. And before I knew it, we’d be welcoming our little blessing into the world. And two weeks later those feelings were replaced with another heartache as we lost that little blessing. Three little blessings, if truth be told. I have never really written much publically about that time – and won’t really go into it now either – but that heartache was piled upon day after day and week after week for a variety of reasons and I was certain the downward spiral would never end.

And that brings us to the second part of my theme – Hope.

Somehow, I found that strength within me again. I owned my feelings and pushed through them to try again… and again… and headed down the road that I needed to go in order to have that family I have so long dreamed about. Maybe you were still walking by my side as you have often done these last seven years (and well before that)… or maybe you pushed me to find that strength within myself. But I did it. And I held onto Hope, where Hope was rapidly looking to abandon me. 

And these last few weeks, I’ve looked at that picture on my desk of you and thought how I wish you were here to see where that Hope has gotten me. I still falter in the “control”… but Hope… Hope has pushed me this far, and though I fear a great deal that things continue to go well, Hope has brought me to believing I will welcome that little blessing before the year is out. Though I wish Uncle Erik could be around to share this joy with us… I know he will be in spirit there to comfort and guide and love as much as he has been these last seven years.

I’ve started to learn a very important thing about “family” – real family. They aren’t afraid to speak up and speak out. They aren’t afraid to show you their love; their support. They will cry with you and hold you and see you through. They will ask after you, when they know times are particularly tough, even if you don’t want to talk about it, they will still show you they’re thinking of you – every day, day after day; One Year… year after year after year after year…

Even Death cannot stop the loving arms of Family around you. I see it in the sunrise, I see it in the children around me, I see it in the smile of my sister-and-more-than-my-sister, I see it in a simple texted word from our Beautiful Love of the Woman. But most of all, I see it in the man who has stuck by me the way a friend must. 

(I almost made it through this missive without tears… almost).

But, Erik, I still see it from you… in all these things and people and more. 

I always knew this writing was more a reflection for me than necessarily a “memorial” for you… but, without your Life and your Death, I may never have grown past where I was to where I am headed. And that is why I continue to write, year after year… to remind myself of what I’ve lost… but also what I’ve gained these seven years past. And year upon year, I continue to see all the signs you leave for me, letting me know you’re thinking of me…

Well I know they say all good things
Must come to some kinda of ending
We were so damn good, I guess we never stood a chance
Go on find what you’ve been missin'
When that highway's tired of listenin'
You’ll see I’m not that easy to forget...

When a new moon shines through your window,
Or you hear a sad song on the radio,
And you don’t know why, but you just start to cry...
Or your driving round on a sunny day
And outta nowhere comes a pourin' rain,
And a memory hits you right out of the blue...
That's just me
Thinking of you

I’m not gonna try to stop you,
Doesn’t mean that I don’t want too;
If I know you, you’ve already made up your mind.
So go on and go if you're really leavin'
Put a million miles between us,
But you still feel me like I’m right there at your side

And when a new moon shines through your window,
Or you hear a sad song on the radio,
And you don’t know why, but you just start to cry...
Or you're driving round on a sunny day
And outta nowhere comes a pourin' rain,
And a memory hits you right out of the blue...
That's just me
Thinking of you

And I’m thinkin' about the road your on,
I’m thinkin' about you comin' home,
I’m wondering if you've got your radio on...

And when you find your way to another town,
And someone tries to lay you down
And a feelin' hits you right out of the blue...
It's me
Thinking of you

That's just me
Thinking of you.

(- Thinking of You, Christian Kane)

Where We Are and Where We're Going

There's something to be said for achieving something great after an incredible struggle. Sometimes, all you can think is "wow... we did it." And other times you are sort of overcome with genuine fear for that proverbial "other shoe."

It's a hard way to live - especially with so many other changes going on inside and outside your body. All my grand plans for how idealistic I wanted things to be... how "natural" and "perfect" and, well... we all know, it never happens as planned.

And... that's ok. It's ok because life is and always has been mutable and this should not be any different. And as tough as some days have been and as anxious as each pain, each appointment, each conversation has made me... nothing compares to where I'm going to be in another 7 months or so.

For those who know my history, you know what struggles I've put up with, even beyond the infertility. The struggle of being poked and prodded and dealing with any number of physical and emotional pains. This struggle has been no different... with one exception. At the end I will have an incredible blessing to show for it. That makes it all worth it - that makes it so much easier to push through the tough days.

The Post I Never Saw Coming...

A little over a month ago, I was getting ready for my next (and final) IVF procedures to find out what is wrong with me and try one last time to get pregnant through the Miracle of Science. It was then I realized that I was late... even for me. So, on a whim, (and given I was on a medication which is not pregnancy safe for long term use) I bought a home pregnancy test (HPT).

I woke up the next morning and proceeded to use said HPT. And it instantly changed. I mean... no 2 minutes, no waiting whatsoever. Instant. I sat there staring at it, convinced the test was bad. I texted Wes... who was convinced the test was bad. So... I finished getting ready and headed down to the doctor's office, sans appointment to instruct them that they needed to do a blood test.

I showed up first thing that morning, knocked on the receptionist window, and when the receptionist looked at me confused (remember... sans appointment) stated, "I need a blood test. I think I'm pregnant." They ushered me inside, drew my blood and sent me on my way.

Around lunchtime my cell phone rang. The IVF coordinator stated "So... I hear you took a HPT and it was positive." "Yes," I replied, expecting the answer to come back, "It was wrong." Instead she said "Well... you're VERY pregnant. Uh... wow."

It has been a whirlwind of weeks since that call. We don't have any idea why suddenly it worked for us, on our own. Drugs reset my system; stress reduced from finally coming to a decision about our future; dumb luck?

Whatever it was... I can honestly say the term "miracle" fits here.

For all intents and purposes, the pregnancy is proceeding healthy - fingers and toes and heartbeat and all. Symptoms make it no denying my body is preparing for this great process and busy working on growing a tiny human who Wes and I have waited six very long years for.

And all the nerves and anxieties and fears that accompany being an older mother, with previous issues and a (albeit VERY early) miscarriage under her proverbial belt.

But I'm happy. So unbelievably happy. We were ready to give up. To move on. To find a way to accept that it just wasn't possible. My last appointment prior to this had been full of discussion of "host uterus" and "donor eggs". We had been looking into adoption. Or letting going of a dream of family entirely.

And yet here I am... inundating myself with information on pregnancy and motherhood.

If you've gone through infertility... if you've faced or are facing this seemingly insurmountable problem....

Remember this... it CAN happen. Sometimes with no rhyme or reason or understanding of WHY.

Six years, three doctors... and no answers to that question.

And yet here I am....

Dine In for Charity

I know I haven't posted in a while and I promise... I will soon. Very soon. Things have just been super-duper hectic the last couple weeks.

In the meantime, I was at my doctor's this morning and saw a poster for an event Union City Grille was doing in Wilmington, DE.

http://www.unioncitygrille.com/community.html

Dine In for Charity.

April 25th their charity is Resolve: National Infertility Association. If you happen to want to get out and eat (and who DOESN'T like to eat?), I would like to recommend support for this organization that night. Unfortunately their website doesn't give much detail, but I think the flyer in my docs office mentioned something like 20 or 25% of the bill will be donated to that night's charity.

So... if you can... go.

Straight Talk or Why some words scare the crap out of us...

A few years ago, I sat in an exam room at the Helen F. Graham Cancer Center at Christiana Care terrified. I had an unusual reaction to Penicillin which resulted in lots of blood tests. Some of which came back with abnormal levels of red and white blood cells and platelets. It was determined at that time that I should be referred to a hemotologist / oncologist to figure out the problem.


The doctor walked in and I had enough time to think "she's my age" when she looked at me and stated "First of all - you don't have cancer."


I was always quite grateful to her for that simple statement. That acknowledgement that there is TYPICALLY only one reason someone is in her office and it's a tough battle to fight. It never really was determined what was causing my abnormal counts, but in subsequent tests the numbers went back to normal and it was chalked up to a very rare and unusual inflammatory reaction to the penicillin.


Four years later and I'm fighting multiple odd symptoms once again. But, I'm going through fertility treatments, I'm under a lot of stress from a variety of things and my body is pretty much all out of whack. So when I went into my primary's office the last thing I expected to hear was "carcinoid syndrome." It was almost the exactly opposite feeling from being in that oncologists office. I sad there dumbly, not sure what to do think or what those words meant. But it sure didn't sound good. 


First of all, before I continue my story, let me put your fears to rest... by all accounts it appears I DO NOT have carcinoids. But look it up. And look it up in it's more advanced phases and you may begin to understand the new emotional roller coaster I've been traveling. 


All fertility efforts were put on hold. The last month or so has been running between doctor's offices and the hospital for tests. My fertility specialist would not proceed until we had an answer. And answers have not been forthcoming. I'm currently wearing a heart monitor, though, for all purposes, it does not appear to be my heart.


This has been my life for 20 years. This will be my life for 20 and more. You'd think I'd be used to it by now.


But it's hard to not be comfortable in your own body. It's hard to carry on life day-to-day in pain or frustration. It's hard to get past the problems of others when your life is consumed by this. This is what I fight against every day.


To end on a happier note: I did see the fertility doctor on Friday. We have decided to proceed finally because the big scary diagnoses seem to be out of the way. Because of the cyclical nature of my current symptoms, we're going to proceed with "hormone" or "auto-immune." He recognizes I'm not "normal" by any stretch of the imagination and require some "outside the box" thinking to reach a conclusion. He's placed other options at my feet, which are under consideration. But I'm taking it one day at a time. Trying to find an answer, so that I can determine my path forward. Trying to reach acceptance of my own life; so pardon me if I'm sometimes seem unconcerned with the lives of others.

Tests, Tests and more ... you got it... tests

For every test that comes back "normal" one would think I'd be happier. But I'm not. It makes me more frustrated. It makes me want to shake the doctors and say "What the hell is wrong with you that you don't know what is wrong with me???"

My primary is baffled. My abdominal ultrasound (which I was sure was going to come back with "OMG... what the HELL is THAT??) was "normal." The blood work, the physical exam, my BP, my heart my lungs...

If I didn't know that my body does such wacky things sometimes, I would almost be ready to believe the hype "it's all in your head." Except it's not. I could almost believe the "flutters" are anxiety or stress or "in my head." But the sudden flush, so bad my cheek hurts? SOMETHING is going on.

Now that we've almost completely eliminated a lot of the "absolute worst" case scenarios, determining (at least as far as my GI is concerned) there are no strange and rare tumors growing in my major abdominal systems, we're back to square one. I guess, in a way it is a relief to not have to face a "syndrome" which was looking pretty bleak as far as "if we find it, there's little hope." Heck, we didn't even seem to find the precursor to the syndrome. Alleluia and pass the peas.

But... no one seems to know WHY this is happening. OR if it's related to my infertility. I just want a damn answer so I can move on.

I've now set my primary to investigating my endocrine system. Or... my adrenals at any rate. I guess we start there. Reproductive hormones appear "normal", so it's time to look at the rest of the process. I'm running out of time and I hate that feeling. It's not at all conducive to this "relaxed state" I'm aiming for.

I may give this last set of blood work a go and if it doesn't show anything just chalk it up to "my body is screwing, let's move on." Which, sadly, may result in a final failure of the IVF. But I don't have time to keep going with this guessing game.