Autumnal Glory

All these folks are going around, making small humans, and I'm over here menopausin' and sweating through my clothes twice an hour. It does leave one feeling highly under-accomplished. However, that's my only real complaint with Lupron. It's actually helped to balance my brain and given me the most relief from depression in years. Although I have become more forgetful, so maybe I'm just oblivious to being depressed?

Other than that, stuff is cool here. How about you guys? Is everyone excited for fall? I am. I'd be a lot more excited if I hadn't broken my foot last week, just a couple weeks before my half marathon. It's really just a stress fracture, and it might be close to healed soon.  I'm still going to attempt to run it. Call me stupid; that's fine. I'm just tired of my body keeping from doing the things I'd like to do. After all, I have all winter to properly mend my foot.

It's also nearly Halloween, which is my favorite holiday. I've always had a very pronounced dark streak, and it's the one holiday where not having kids actually is a benefit for one wanting to really celebrate it. 

I think that's all. If there's more, I've probably forgotten it. 

One less thang

I'm couldn't sleep last night. 

I spent all morning crying. For no reason. 

I just ate a bar of chocolate and have no regrets. 

I can't stop thinking about pizza. 

However, I'm really satisfied with this situation. Guys, this is the first time I've gotten my period in the last year in which I haven't been bed-ridden and in agony. And, as hormonally crabby as I'm feeling, I'm absolutely ecstatic and hopeful about this. 

This is what normal feels like. I forgot. 

I wouldn't normally post things about my cycles, but since you've seen parts of my body that shouldn't see light, you're probably not surprised. 

And I do this for a reason. Always listen to what your body is telling you. 

When we're young, we feel invincible. Occasional health issues don't slow us down; we push through it. We may go so far as to feel shame for feeling less than perfect. I know; I did. Others shamed me as well. Unfortunately, that's how we view  many types of health issues in this country.

 But you need to know this: your pain, your experience, your need for resolution is valid. Do what you need to do to achieve your highest level of health. 

We all deserve that much. 

That's all I have to say about that. 

 

Rant rant rant ra-ant rant!

I don't particularly care how other people view the use of social networks; they're  my only connection to many important people in my life. I don't need to apologize for that. 

But, as I will now rant, I am frequently horrified at how foolish and tactless people can be using the mask of the Internet. 

I know; I'm a little hyper-sensitive over the whole baby thing...I may or may not be wearing my "Shut Up About Babies" shirt. I'm not usually bitter over the reproductive fortune of others. In fact, that's pretty rare. I do love babies, and when people I love have babies, I'm generally thrilled, despite the inevitable baggage. 

HOWEVER: I am irritated at how many people (not just woman) seem to flaunt parenthood in an almost condescending way. "You'll never understand happiness until you have babies,"  or the inevitable cheesy list "Top 10 reasons why being pregnant is so much better than anything on earth." 

Uggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I get it; you're happy. You want everyone to see your happiness. I understand that. But, given how many couples struggle with fertility or suffer devastating miscarriages or failed adoption attempts or what have you, it's probable that somebody in your circle is seeing that and feels incredibly discouraged. 

Granted, everyone seems overly-sensitive these days, but this is so easily avoided with a little tact. Speaking in absolutes tends to shut others down (and we all know only the Sith deal in absolutes.) Yes, of course, I'm super excited to see pictures of your darling children and your happiness; that's not in question at all. But with so many friends with so many gorgeous babies, it can get a bit taxing for some of us. 

Obviously this probably doesn't start and stop with reproductive and family planning issues. I've seen some ridiculous stuff in the last week. People seem to think putting an ill-informed opinion on the internet won't cause any reprecussions. I don't mind differing opinions; you all know me and know my affiliations (obviously not the Sith), and it's silly to think everyone will express the same views. I just wish everyone would express them respectfully and intelligently. Also...using appropriate grammar and spelling would be wonderful. 

 

I'm trying not to be such a grouch. It seems like everyone is such a grouch all the time about lady parts and baby-makin'.  Rants are just fun sometimes. 

I'll do what I can to make my next entry something include more "pizzazz."

Not Pazuzu. This is a Captain Howdy-free zone. 

"I dunno what the hell's in there, but it's weird and pissed off, whatever it is."

I had a follow up appointment today. I knew it was going to be...interesting. I have hazy memories of what my doctor tried to tell me, post-surgery, but I also have memories of dancing in competitions and working in erotic films that were concocted by my drug-addled brain. 

It's weird to think that one hundred years ago, if anyone had the chance to see the parts of my body that I've seen, they'd be moments away from death. 

So, here's what I learned:

As my doctor put it, I have a WILD PELVIS. It's a hot mess in there, or at least it was. There were tons of adhesions and endometrial spots. There was a huge 8 x 10 cm endometrioma INSIDE my right ovary. My ovaries and tubes were twisted and mangled and pretty much my entire pelvic region was an absolute hot, hot, hot, sweltering, burning, smoldering, ugly mess. 

Except my uterus. My uterus is oddly fine. Which is extremely good news, I suppose.  And there's nothing malignant. Which is fantastic. 

I'm also fortunate because my physician is skilled enough that he was able to carefully extract the chocolate cyst (not nearly as delicious as it sounds) without damaging the surrounding ovarian tissue. This is really a feat; most doctors would just remove the entire ovary. And I need those ovaries. 

All of this work on my interior means I was entirely validated in feeling exhausted and miserable. I guess I didn't really comprehend how intensive this surgery was, because to me, "out-patient" means you get a fat node removed from your head (don't judge, you guys.)

With Jacob there (who kept starting bizarre conversations while we were waiting), it was nice to be able to openly discuss our options. In a few weeks, I'll need to start Lupron, which, while it will kill off the microscopic endometriosis, will also cause me to go into temporary menopause and become severely depressed and forgetful. I can't wait.

Again, we discussed the option of trying to conceive naturally. However, a new issue is the increased risk of ectopic pregnancy, which we all have ZERO interest in seeing happen. So IVF is officially our best and safest option... But we have a few months to get a new insurance plan for me while I'm on Lupron-emotional-health-killer. 

(My doctor did appreciate my joke about joining a retiree knitting circle since I'd be in temporary menopause. I don't think he gets many jokes from his patients.)

All of this was a bit overwhelming. I just are possibly the biggest, most decadent bowl of frozen yogurt on land, sea, or sky. I feel better; I'm just the type of person who needs time to process things. I also like dessert. 

I was going to rant about something, but I'll save it for a day when I wear my "Shut Up About Babies" shirt. I might wear that shirt when I run my half marathon...

So, who wants to see something gross? I have pictures of my uterus. It seriously looks like the replicating alien from John Carpenter's The Thing. I'm not kidding. It's terrifying. 

This is your last warning. I'll just leave this at the bottom of the post. It's hard to even tell what it is, but I have the feeling MacReady would shoot it if he saw it. 

Okay, here's my pre-surgery pelvis. The dark spots are endo, the white things are my ovaries. It's a mess. I'm glad it's all cleaned up now. 

Hey, I'm still here!

So. I have returned. Bonjour, Internet community.
I got a little tired of blogging about infertility. I figured if maybe I ignored that part of my life for a while, it would go away and not affect me as much.
Turns out, that's not how it works. I'm going to drop all the necessary info for all of you, as I'm getting a lot of questions and people hestitant to ask, although still curious.
Back in...April? March? I don't exactly remember, but whenever it was, I finally went to see a well-renowned reproductive endocrinologist. And, for the first time, someone took an interest in my situation. They didn't suggest I have more sex or take herbal supplements. They didn't think I was crazy for feeling dull and achy all the time. And they decided that I needed some testing done to pinpoint exactly what my reproductive issues were.
So, just as I began substitute teaching in my district, I began a regimen of driving over to my doctor's office at the crack of dawn for a blood draw and an awkward ultrasound. (Here's a piece of advice: eat something before a blood draw if you plan on teaching AP English that day, or else the high school secretary will have to supply you with fruit snacks.) During one of those occasions, it was discovered an old nemesis had returned: I had another orange-sized ovarian cyst.
Damn. Ughhhhhhh. Again. This again. I'm really not amused.
Both Jacob and I had a consult in June with my doctor to discuss this. Now, this guy is a really great physician, and since he's still in educational medicine, he's focused on helping, not making a profit. And he's charmingly funny. But none of that cushions the news that I once again have to go through the "punishment" (as my doctor calls it) of a laparoscopy to remove my cyst. Unfortunately, we had to hold off until mid-July as he'd be on vacation for a while. But, he also gave me a rundown of my other fertility issues: basically, I'm missing a hormone cue at a certain point and my eggs don't get effectively released. And that ineffective release is causing cysts. There's a little more to it, but that's basically it. Now, had I been blood tested years ago, all I needed was two hormone injections at the right time and my fertility would be at full power.
But that's not the typical course of my life. Anyway, let's fast forward to last week. I finally got my cyst removed. Let me tell you: laparoscopies are not a fun experience. I seemed to have forgotten that. It was scheduled as an out-patient procedure, so I assumed, "Oh, this will be EASY. I'll probably be able to go for a walk afterwards and maybe pop a few Tylenol and be great. Maybe I just got unlucky with my last one." Lies. All lies. Just because they're small incisions doesn't mean the surgeon isn't de-mangling your insides. Which is exactly what my doctor had to do. Apparently, my endometrial adhesions had caused both ovaries and Fallopian tubes to be stuck to the back of my uterus. Plus, there was some extra crap and stuff; I'm not exactly sure. I was under anesthesia when it was explained to me.
Unfortunately, my tubes were in worse shape than expected. They'd probably pass a dye test (meaning dye could pass all the way through) but it would be difficult for an egg to get through. While not impossible, it would take long enough that the amount of cycles it would take to achieve a bun in the oven would probably result in another bad endometriosis flare.
So, basically, that means that IVF is our best course of action. I'm not upset, really. I just am sad that my babies are going to be so expensive. Because kids are already expensive. And my accountant hates spending money.  I'm sure you're all thinking, "Why don't they just adopt a kid?" To that, I need to explain that pregnancy is probably one of the best things for a woman with endometriosis. It helps our bodies reset and gives us a break from it. So, while I'm not against adopting in the future (and I want to adopt EVERYTHING as it is), I probably need to go this route. And I've made my peace with that.
Before we can do IVF, however, I need to do a course of a drug called Lupron to treat whatever microscopic endometrial spots are left. While this drug is really successful at that, the side effects are depression and forgetfulness. Which means I'll crazy times ten and probably will need a lot of hugs. I've made my peace with that as well.
What I haven't made my peace with is this horribly itchy rash I've developed as a reaction to either my codeine or the anesthesia. I struggle with anesthesia... Anyway, it sucks. It's the worst. Plus, I've been unable to be on effective pain meds for a while, so
I'm incredibly sore still.
However, I'm really doing well otherwise. I've started running again. I got myself in over my head and started training for a half marathon this fall. I mean, I've taken the last week and a half off, but I look forward to getting back out there soon. So is Linus. And Louie (for those of you who haven't heard from me for the last year, Louie is our dumb puppy addition. We love him but he's mighty dumb.)
So, that's it. I mean, there are the facts and now you don't have to awkwardly skirt around questions or topics when you talk to me, because hell, the whole situation is awkward. Now we can get back to celebrity gossip, discussion of string theory, and Gandhi's teachings on non-violence. And wine-drinking.

Secret Garden

This is a phone entry; don't judge my grammar and punctuation too harshly.

So...I feel like whining about this. Tangents abound.
I don't mean to discount the friends I already have, because I love them, but they happen to be geographically far away...
And you can't expect friends that are so far away to remain as emotionally invested in your life as they did previously. That's not one bit fair. People have lives! Brilliant, wonderful lives that require vigorous...living! I guess I'm feeling jealous that I can't be part of those lives anymore, at least like I used to...but as I said, it's unfair of me, and I'm feverishly striving to overcome it.

I need new social spheres.

I'm tremendously picky about whom I allow to be close to me. I exist in a reality so convoluted by every single memory/color/modicum of stimuli, that I've worked incredibly hard to function in normal society. [Brace yourselves: Adventure Time reference] It's like I'm the Ice King with crazy old wizard-eyes. I still can't figure out how to eat a meal without absently smearing it all over my face. I recognize  that it's not disabling or heart-breaking, as one would see in one with OCD or more severe mental illness, but the truth is I'm incomplete. I think we all are, in our own way. I have an easy time recognizing this as my responsibility, but I have a really difficult time adjusting to the vulnerable position I frequently find myself in.
Interaction is hard. Acting appeals to me for a reason: I've crafted a friendly persona, full of charm and bravado, to present myself as an extrovert. Honestly, I'm not anywhere close to being this person. I'd prefer to run out of the room on most occasions. I have, on some. Contrary to how I may appear, I allow very few people to be close to me. These are people who either have known me many years and have a deep understanding of my more confounding traits, or those with whom I've shared a deep sense of connection, usually through some sort of life-altering event (which include theatrical productions). Or they're Jacob. Trust is paramount, especially since choices of friends in the past has lead to some pretty intense lows for me. And now, with the loss of 97% of my regular and cherished social interaction due to our move, I feel incredibly...lost? Yeah, lost.

How do I even meet people?! And, for the record, I don't trust the Internet. I'm just old enough to have suspicion of all technology while compulsively using it. Plus, I'm not trying to find a soul mate or a sleazy hookup, so I'm pretty limited as far as sites and apps.

I did get a job as a preschool music teacher at a Gymboree Play/Learn. However, I'm tremendously apprehensive over building work friendships, given my previous experience in early childhood education...we'll just see how this pans out.



A long time ago, I found a picture in an old literature textbook that essentially describes my inner-sanctum. It's hard to describe, really. It's presumably set somewhere in Great Britain (Wales, if I could choose). It's a slow-moving brook, littered with smooth stones, surrounded by a deep thicket of trees, bushes, and ivy, which create a tunnel. On one side, a decaying stone wall flanks the pastoral scene, allowing small rays of light in through a crumbling gate. Ivy proliferates. It's dark and gothic, a little romantic, and channels the Secret Garden a bit, although I always found Mary Lennox to be too bitchy for me to appreciate. It's probably imaginary, like an Albert Bierstadt painting, but I think that's where I'd like my soul to end up.  Anyway, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm trying to find another soul to invite into my secret ivy grotto, somebody that won't disrupt the flow of the brook it or trample the ivy.

This is all getting really introspective, and really self-involved; I can't continue on this topic. Partly because it's hard writing about vulnerability and loneliness, partly because the dog just farted in my face and I'm utterly disgusted.

Skeever Tail

I haven't exactly been feeling myself lately.

And by lately, I mean the last two months since we've moved across three states.

And by myself, I mean I'm lonely. And hormonal. And slipping back to my all-too-familiar cycle of depression.

And I just don't want to talk about babies right now. For many reasons. The one I'm willing to share is this: I'm starting to get a little worn-down from this process. Being able to focus on other things has allowed my head to clear a little bit. Truthfully, I'm actually feeling relieved about letting this go for an indefinite period of time. I've noticed that for the first time in years, I'm not actually interested in having babies right now, and the pressure I've previously been under hasn't had the same impact. I'll just commit to living my life as it is, then re-approach that issue in the future.

Then again, I wouldn't mind having a mess of little boys running around at some point. So we can have Adventure Time :)

So...we moved. It's hard to move. I don't like change. I don't like being alone all the time. I know I've been extremely vocal about not wanting to leave, and I'm okay with that. I'm proud of my husband and his accomplishments, and I have promised to follow him until I die. That's understood. But I don't have to be happy about moving; that would be unhealthy. I had the most wonderful house, the most wonderful theatre, and the most wonderful friends a girl could ever want. So it was a bit jarring when we left all of this behind. I've been dealing with it as best I can, but there's been a lot of emotional turmoil on my part. I've been pretty lonely, especially since Jacob's been having to commit a lot of time to his new position. Plus, when we moved in, this house TOTALLY SUCKED. I have no other phrase with which to describe it. I mean, the location has been phenomenal, and it's got a lot of potential, but it's taken a lot of work, mostly on my part. I mean, CRIKEY, all the walls were white. PLUS, there were some mysterious poo stains in one of the bathrooms. So uncouth.

I'm mostly lonely, but fortunately, I have the Fay family only an hour away! We've been able to have the whole crew or just Kendra and the kids around a couple times, and it's really wonderful to have "family" around. It's great to have Kendra to talk to, plus I can satiate my baby-longing in terms of some small kids :) I love being "Aunt Katie."
Which reminds me: I want to have a crazy, eclectic house so that when my nieces and nephews visit, they'll think I'm magical. This has been a life-long goal.

But, the thing is, when you move, it cements relationships and makes the times when I see them all the more precious to me. We moved two months ago, and I've already made the trip from Chicagoland to Minnesota three times, twice without Jacob! He tolerates that well, and I hate to leave him missing me for days, but I need social interaction. I really only talk to the dog when I'm here. I've missed my almost daily coffee dates with David (who ended up moving to the cities shortly after I moved; I'm extraordinarily proud and happy about that, but this blog is about me and not David). I miss putting birds on things and singing karaoke with Kristine. I miss Adam and Rachel and not being able to watch little Augustine grow up. And now that Lindsey and Sean are so far away, I have no one to watch Adventure Time or play Cards Against Humanity with. That is, until I come visit. Visiting my friends has been incredible, and I'm once again reminded that our purpose in this world is to love and be loved by others.

Oh, and I play Skyrim now. I'm terrible at video games, but I've always wanted to be a wood elf named Bonerhead.

We went to a jazz-blues festival. Or was it a blues-jazz festival?

June, Ruben, and Aunt Katie. So wonderful!

We appropriately wore nerdy t-shirts and went to the Field Museum. It was awesome.

New appliances are the coolest.

I have a lovely bedroom. ALL MY DOING.

I used to see this on my running route. Now it's being renovated. WHY RUN ANYMORE?

These are other things we've done to our home. Including a hole in the wall.

I got to visit David in the cities. He was the best wedding date/host/pizza box artist ever.