Sunday, August 17, 2014

Nuke yourself. 20 things "I don't" like tag.



So once upon a time I wrote a whole blog post about why I deleted or unfollowed 150 people while I was high on anesthesia but then I deleted it because I really don't care to explain myself so instead I was inspired to make a list of inspiring things that make me want to nuke myself or someone else. Some of the people I accidentally unfollowed but I can't remember who so if 3 or more of these apply to you then it was on purpose. Enjoy!

My version of the "20 things about me tag" with a nuke twist. Bahh boom.


Nuke yourself if.......

You have to go to Walmart on a military payday weekend see also "mandatory" military family functions as an infertile. Nuke myself. (nuke myself are not counted as a yes..wink wink)

My unreproductive system.  Nuke myself(I hope you're catching on now....) 

Anyone who has taken a photo like this. 



BFN's. Nuke myself. 

People who don't know what USMC stands for. 

When people refer to Marines as soldiers. 


The parents of this girl or ones like her. 


Teen mom and I didn't know I was pregnant episodes.

This woman or ANY pregnant woman smoking. 



Weight restrictions on bounce houses. You don't know my life.

 


People who steal my gold and elixir while I'm sleeping on COC. 

People who say "I know exactly how you feel" but their insurance covers IVF.


West Boro baptist church members. 

Gun control. 

ISIS and Al Qaeda.




Our welfare system.

Adoption costing over 25K but millions of babies are born homeless and unwanted every year. 

The parents of these two. 



Liberals. 

Cloth diapering. I'd rather nuke myself. 

Americas criminal justice system. Aka. Cruel and unusual punishment law. You just raped a three year old. Strap him to a post and burn that mother fucker Salem style. 

Anyone who has ever hash-tagged milspo, militarywifey, hardestjobinthecore etc...and thinks it's actually a "job". 

People who have started a fight or argued on social media with someone else. But that's none of my business. 


Cold french fries. 

Liars. 
See also fake people. 

Married sluts who cheat on their husbands while they are deployed.  Double bah boom.

 

People who make their dogs sleep outside. 

People who don't vaccinate their children. Go hug a tree and die from small pox hippie.  

People who smoke outside of a non smoking building and I have to walk into it. 

Getting gum stuck to your shoe. See also stepping in dog shit. 

Parents that take their kids to an R rated movie. 

People who talk smack or comment on other peoples sports team on social media. Double nuke if you are a band wagoner or never watch sports unless your team is winning or only your team. Get. A. Life. 

People in STL rioting over Michael Brown for being the thug he was but not having a clue who Cpl Rob Richards is. Nuke yourself twice. 

RIP to the heroes like Cpl Richards. 

People over 70 who win the lottery. 

People who grew up in a land locked state. {traveled abroad, military brat, or Great Lakes don't nuke yourself}


People who take this post to heart. 



Anyone selling fat wraps, nail wraps, or any wrap on my news feed.

People who post bump pictures weeks 4-8. You're either bloated or just fat. The other people commenting how "good you look" are liars. So stop.

People who watch CNN, ABC, NBC, or CBS for "news". 

Me having to run.


Drivers who don't turn right on red. See also people who drive slow in the passing lane and never get over or never use a turn signal.  

People who have multiple baby showers year after year. 


People with Christmas countdowns before Halloween. 

People who get in the express checkout with 273763882 things. 

People who are rude to waitresses/waiters. Also see bad tippers.

Cancer. F YOU. 

People who request to follow me and hashtag #preggoproblems #preggoprobs #pregnantproblems etc etc. And wonder why I don't follow back. 

And last but not least people who take 18 years to order fast food or pick out a Red Box. You're not building a rocket. 




Good news is tomorrow is Monday! 

Thanks for the uninspiration society.

Bye.







Friday, August 15, 2014

Guilt.

This is a post I wrote after surgery a week ago that turned into a rant so I erased half of it but I can't make this shit up so here's some of what happened and a little friend named guilt. 

There I laid.

About to turn 34. 

Been at this game nightmare for almost eight years.  Now 100% infertile. Pissing my pants.

Wait. 

What?

Thankfully I wasn't pissing myself.  When I was high in recovery and the nurse guy sitting on the stool next to me was reading me my do's and do nots that I never follow in the first place(am I the only one?) I thought, "Am I pissing the bed right now?"

......inside voice, "Holy shit! I am pissing myself and there is nothing I can do about it. 

Yep its coming out and no one even knows it.

Oh my god. Did they slice a pee line? They totally jacked up my pisser.....

I lifted the hospital sheet to admire such class when all I saw was a half assed murder scene. Damn it. This shit is getting old.  Could you imagine if you shit yourself too??  I consider blood a blessing now thinking about the people that actually shit themselves in hospitals uncontrollably and thank god I am not one of them. Knock on wood....that trick doesn't work. 

This is a week later insert and karma came a knocking. 

Today I shit my pants a little after being hospitalized, having a million tests done and finally being prescribed 6000 antibiotics and pain pills from a to be determined virus. I'm on day 5 and I'm starving if you want to feel bad. I wouldn't. I'm still alive. Apparently my husband and friend didn't as they texted me pictures from the basement of them enjoying stuffed crust pizza after I sobbed over wanting it while I laid in the hospital bed high on morphine. Rather hilarious. Here is said pizza. 


And this is why I don't feel sorry for myself. I have these guys telling me to suck it up and quit being a vagina. And I love them for it. Even though did I mention I haven't eaten in three days minus some crackers but every 30 minute trip to the bathroom takes care of those. This too shall "pass".

...back to last weeks post

The Nurse/Dr/Army guy/I don't know what his job title is; was going over how much the next 4-6 weeks are going to suck be awesome and then me also pointing and laughing at my husband when Mr. Unidentified told us no sex for 2 weeks.

I don't remember the part about the sex talk but my husband reassured me that even on drugs I am still a smartass. It's so true. 

I interrupted him...

"Good news is I didn't piss myself," I looked up and said, "I'm bleeding."

I like to keep things real but mostly funny and awkward. Sorry not sorry?

So the nurse guy handed me a twin sized mattress pad and exited the curtain area as he called for a female nurse.  I don't know if it was because he didn't want to see my bloody vagina or if he didn't want to see my bloody vagina. Either way I laid there for a bit and started half assed crying.  Just the type of crying where the tears are streaming slowly that you can wipe them away quickly not the Kim K. ugly cry.

It had sank in completely. There was no turning back now. The weight of IVF having to be successful in order to have biological children and it's whopping 40% success rate forever more was here and it was streaming down my face and evidently between my legs. 

Infertility drowns me with the weight of guilt.  I see infertility stories of other couples that say MFI or male factor infertility and I wish for a moment I could use that line and lift the guilt off my back.  My husband isn't broken as you already know with his "above average" counts.  I think about what it would be like to be perfectly fertile and it be him with broken sperm.  All of them drinking rum and cokes swimming backwards and shit.  When you have no sperm or low sperm its pretty cut and "dry".  I do daydream about not being broken from time to time and not having all the guilt riding piggy back.  It feels in that moment for me very uplifting to be honest. 

Now never in this century or the next would I ever wish that on my husband. I'd rather be the broken one.  But something I have never talked about on my blog specifically with my infertility since it is 1000% my fault. Is guilt. 

And I know people not in my shoes will say..."well blah blah blah...infertility is infertility Rachel." 
Horse shit.  It is different for every person and every couple.  Some stories make me feel less guilty and sad for others.  Not many anymore but there are a few.  And most of the time...I'm like ehhhh so when did you meet? And you're how old? And IVF is covered. Must be awesome. 

The guilt never changes. It will always be my fault. It never lessens or is passed to anyone else. However unfaulting and out of my control it is. No matter how much my husband loves me in sickness and in health.  It is there.  Wrapping it's heavy suffocating arms around me. 

I can't wait for that moment when I am looking at our tiny little bab(ies) and to know how much all of this has been worth it. I can be free from it's arms. I can say things like, remember that time when I was childless and bitter. I can't wait to hashtag #teamnosleep or #preggoproblems. (Insert sarcastic resting bitch face)

One day our kids are going to ask for an iPhone 20 and we will say back in my day we played outside and built forts and then he/she(or both) will storm off slamming their door shouting how much they hate us and how much we don't love them. Then I'll walk my mean uncool mommy happy ass upstairs and slip the bank statements for their IVF bills under their door. Boom. Hate on that.  

I can't wait to not feel guilty avoiding baby showers or deactivating my Facebook once a month. 

No more draining me of my empathy for others type of guilt. 

No more driving hours to see a specialist and have him look at my follicles through a vaginal ultrasound guilt. 

To not feeling guilty for telling friends and family we can't visit or vacation because IVF and affording said IVF babies is our vacation. 

No more pokes or pills of hormones that make us bat shit cray for our husbands to live with. 

The worry of will our future children ever get to know our parents and grandparents. 

Guilt. Simple and wholesome guilt. 

You nasty little thing. I can't wait to get rid of you. 


Namaste. 

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

I am not this "mother" you speak of?


"I think that once you go through labor, you have a completely new respect for mothers.  Only we will ever truly know the pain and hard work it takes to bring a child into this world. Welcome to our club."   ~Mrs. F


That was a comment I read yesterday on Facebook. As bold as it is to post so publicly without any regards to the 1 in 8 infertile women out there. I realize there are so many woman that haven't the slightest clue what real pain and labor of love to becoming a mother is while being fertile.  The Mrs. F's of the world is why I keep blogging. 

I was scrolling over the comments on a beautiful picture post from a close family member who recently had her baby and she shared online for everyone to see and read. I was in love and was reading all the sweet comments and congratulations when the words from that comment stopped me and it seemed as if everything was quiet and my ears went deaf. The hospital room felt as if it closed in on me and silence was all I could hear.  Each word began to singe my heart as I re-read the comment over and over again. The room felt like it was slowly starting to spin. "Only WE TRULY know pain," I read again with conviction and tried to shrug it off for hours but the words seemed to pierce right through me as I laid in that hospital bed about to have my laparoscopic bilateral salpingectomy(double fallopian tube removal)and I tried to break the words down to make them less harsh but as I read each line they just became worse every time.  They were taunting  me like some sick mind game played by a serial killer.  I wanted to lash out, yell, curse and comment right away and "put her in her assuming, uneducated and heartless fertile place."  But that wasn't me. Typically it was but not in that context. Popcorn anyone? I promised my dignity I would wait until after surgery to gather my thoughts. 

Blogging is my go to for infertility not fighting publicly on social media with seemingly nice women. Maybe she shouldn't be faulted for not having the common sense to choose different words. Or maybe she really felt this way? Did she? How could she? I didn't want to believe it. My brain flipped a switch and I immediately seen red because it is something that hits so close to home. Rage started to consume me. 

I tried to break down and understand what she was trying to say. Instead of a simple, "Congratulations or what a beautiful picture!" like everyone else. Mrs. F made it a point to seclude birth mothers as a whole by stating, "after labor you have a new respect and we are a CLUB" and "ONLY WE will ever TRULY know the PAIN and HARD WORK it takes to bring a child into this world." Those words stuck out the most as I said them out loud. She was saying those lines to me. That is how I took it. Personal. And now I was also hurt. 

I thought about my friends whom I have become close with who can never have biological children but have adopted and my heart was sad for them and for their children. Are they not loved and respected just as much? Are they not hard working mothers who love and labor just as much. 

You see Mrs. F, I couldn't disagree more with that comment even if I had a lifetime to argue; and I would, believe me.  I have so much "respect" as you called it for mothers already.  Surrogates, adoptive moms, foster moms, miscarriage and still birth mothers, single parents, moms that are dads, grandmother moms, moms who choose adoption over abortion and yes birth mothers who are blessed to carry their babies to full term just like my mother. God bless them all. What strong women and men they must all be to choose to raise a child up in such a harsh world and mold him or her into someone with dignity, respect, love, humanity, humility and grace. So much respect it is insurmountable. 

The second half of the comment Mrs. F is  I wasn't sure if you meant physical "pain" or emotional pain. But you did use the words, "only we will ever truly know the pain and hard work to bring a child into this world." So let's use both since we are all Gods children, but he must not know this "pain" you speak of???

I am being completely honest with you here Mrs. F when I say: 
I am not this "mother" you speak of. 
I have never given live birth and physically labored a living healthy child into this world. But I do know the "pain" you speak of. 

After seven years of, walking, more like fighting in my shoes, seeking multiple Drs and REs, paying for multiple infertility procedures, having them all fail while a husband was deployed to Afghanistan in combat; not once but four times, watching grandparents and friends pass on to never to meet our children, or choosing not one but two surgeries one which today removed my Fallopian tubes. Which currently the "pain" pills are only making me tired and not easing the swelling or gas shooting up my back and shoulders from the surgery. I now have six incisions on my stomach not just three.  I lay here bleeding again on top of three towels while my husband who is also my best friend of nine years waddles me to the bathroom and consults my pains and dries my tears. Those tubes that are required for me to become this "mother" you speak of are gone and now after recovering from this surgery we fight on to shovel out $15,000 dollars on a chance to be part of that "club" you talk about with no guarantee. This of what you called, "hard work and pain only "we" truly know," you speak of would never compare to even just a fraction of our "pain."

But I am not this "mother" you speak of. 

I do know a mothers pain Mrs. F. 
Deeper than the ocean and wider than the valleys.  A pain larger than I could ever attempt to describe to you before you could understand in this lifetime. 

I feel that pain everyday. Not a day goes by where there isn't a moment that I don't know that pain you speak of. Pain in the physical sense is temporary. Pain when you finally are pregnant after years and years after multiple tests and ultrasounds telling you that you will have a baby is heart breaking.  Only to lose everything you fought years for during an ectopic miscarriage. Gone. Now that pain Mrs. F, that pain is forever

But I am not this "mother" you speak of. 
Grief and the loss is forever. It is hidden in the depths of our crevices. Packed down deep seeping out like the early morning fog in the fall. Cold and crisp. You can feel this pain. Emotional physical pain. 

However during a healthy live birth. You get to experience such overwhelming joy especially if you've been waiting years for something when you are finally blessed to give birth to a child.  I could never diminish that joy to the pain I've felt for so long in my life from infertility. But the joy could diminish the pain. I believe. 

At least in the physical sense yes we all understand how painful it must be to give birth because it is just scientific common sense that you know going into becoming a mother. Trying to squeeze a bowling ball out of a water hose isn't the most physically pleasing ideal a person would want to take on.  But does this mean mothers giving birth via cesarean do not know this "pain" or "hard work". How about the ones with epidurals or no drugs? Is there a different club for those "mothers" too?   

I do know that you do not wake up feeling that physical "pain" everyday for the rest of your life.  I have multiple nieces and nephews and cousins. I have stayed overnights in hospitals after births. Vaginal and emergency ceseraean. All tempoary pain. 

But the pain of loss I can assure you I absolutely do feel everyday. 

That sadness. The emptiness. That failure of loss and longing to carry a child naturally on my own.  That "hard work." 
The grief. The loss.  The defeat.  It may not be all day and honestly maybe only for a minute at times or less but it is there. The thoughts of that pain. However we must carry on. Life doesn't stop for our loss as we must keep living.  

I would rather comment and say to someone who has given birth publicly. Congrats! You get to experience so much joy. A miracle. A blessing. Everyday is life and love you share together. Snuggles and smiles. Happiness. To enjoy every minute of being alive and being able to watch their baby grow and teach them to learn but the greatest is love. 

I can't say giving birth is the worst pain I have ever felt Mrs. F.  I already know a pain and club that you did not speak of. 

They are called miscarriage and infertility. 

I am sorry Mrs. F. 

But I am not this "mother" you speak of. 

Or am I?



~Dedicated to my "mothers" everywhere. 

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Bye Fallopicia

I don't always go full infertile but when I do I start with kicking out my tubes. Byeeee. 


So it's the night before D day. Demolition day if you will. After tomorrow I can finally say to the peanuts that I will never be able to conceive after hearing for the thousandth time "well so and so tried for years then adopted twins from China and then miraculously got knocked up." Well sister friend it ain't happening ova here! Zero, zilch, nada, no, nope, uh uh, 0%, impossible.




So I left from my last post at my appointment in Columbia with my new RE who is awesome and will be doing our IVF; saying I was getting my tubes removed(laparoscopic salpingectomy). I don't need to explain why for the peanuts but just to share a few important reasons let's walk down that road. 

Reason number one. 

AMerica and freedom. Duh.





But really.....

My tubes are like the reality tv garbage of entertainment. Straight up trash. Little worthless attention whores with no talent. 













They are just down there hanging out not being a productive member of my reproductive society.  They are all like, "hey look at me over here catching all theses babies and having you to abort them because I suck and I am worthless!" Recurrent ectopic miscarriages is at an awesome 70% chance every time for me. So enough said.

Reason number two. 

Other than not ovulating on my own(tubes again most likely mixed with endo) I am heathy otherwise. Since we are shoveling out all this money for IVF we most definitly want to have the "healthiest" environment for IVF. So getting rid of these dusty and busted pipes with whatever else is inside or around them is a positive and leads my RE and OB to believe it is best. I do not need tubes for IVF anyways since the embryos are implanted into a womens uterus skipping over the fallopian highway.  

Reason number three. 

Cancer runs in our family and studies have been shown to decrease that risk with the removal of the Fallopian tubes. Hello. Who likes cancer anyways. 

Ok so number one was the biggest and only reason I needed. But hearing both doctors explain all of the above was reassuring. I really feel like my RE in Columbia and OB here at Fort Leonard Wood really care about us having a successful and healthy live birth. They are both understanding that it is not cheap and if cost wasn't an issue it would be 95% less stressful and much easier to get through. The doctors and nurses have been offering caring advice and consults and are working together to cut us some costs. Who doesn't love that? This IVF business isn't a guarantee.  You go home with a car once you take out the loan.  But just because we shuffle out 15k dollars doesn't mean we will be strapping a baby(ies) in a car seat nine months later.  Lets not even talk about having to pay for more than one cycle. 

Yea we already know it will be worth it.  

That is easy to say when you aren't the one writing that check waiting on your blood results to come back after seven years either. Bye.

So that is our biggest stress and it will be until oh let's say about 11 months from now. All we can do is hope and pray that our blessings are coming soon and stay positive while we wait or whatever it is those optimists say.




I am first of all completely in shock that it is happening so soon! Tomorrow!?? Wait what?


What happened inside my head.


I know!!! I called my OB(twice) but that's another story. I had to call back because a reshitshonist didn't have a clue about me telling her "I just needed to know if Dr. P(my local military OB) got Dr.C's(my RE in Columbia two hours away) email about cutting my tubes out and asking if he could do the surgery locally?" So after hanging up frustrated with her stupidity and for wanting me to wait a month for an appointment to ask a question I called back. 

Persistence ladies. Keep calm and always call back. 




So I called back. Talked to my nurse. And two days later(this past Friday)was sitting face to face with the Dr. P(did I mention who is awesome)asking me when I wanted to cut these jerks out.



Like. A. Boss. 


Hello. Can we do it now? It was 1pm on Friday so a surgery was out of the question. 

He said, "How about Monday?"

Shut up.

Really...shut up was my first response to the man with a PhD who was going to cut out my tubes. 

"Let me make six phone calls and I'll come right back."

So here I am. The phone calls obviously went well. I think I told him he was amazing about thirty six times before leaving his office and skipping off to pre op paperwork and then down to labs for some more blood donations and a little peeing in a cup action(I am a pro at both FYI after about a million of each I think we should get some type of ribbon for accuracy and or not flinching.  

I mean who gets excited for blood draws. Most of the time we dread them and are super anxious but this time was different.  When my number was called at the lab I hopped my ass up in that seat so fast dangling and kicking my little legs throwing my arm up on the chair rest smiling at the nervous 18 year old army kid like I was about to be given the Nobel Peace Prize.



I think I was on an endorphin high for a few hours following. I could have T boned a four star general that day after leaving the hospital on base.





What does all this tubal talk mean in the grand scheme of things? 

It's huge. 
If we are talking time. 

I was assuming I would have these shits cut out in September/October pushing IVF to February/March. 

Hello recovery 4-6 weeks then we can start IVF! Finally. Hopefully. Let's get through the surgery all in one piece. Especially my uterus and ovaries remaining intact then we can write about shots and meds and labs for IVF.  

I will try to update y'all this week with how everything went. Thanks for all the sweet comments and emails too!!

One. Step. Closer.