Isis' countdown

My oldest cat, Isis, is nearly 14 years old. I've been with her longer than I've been with Monkey. Last May we had a benign lump on her forehead removed. Last month we found another lump under her left shoulder and had it checked. I really didn't think anything of it. I thought it would be like the one on her forehead. It was bigger and growing faster but she isn't bothered by it at all. Well, it turns out to be a kind of connective tissue tumor that grows fast, sends out tendrils and difficult/impossible to get it all out. To take it out would mean cutting and digging out a large amount tissue from a relatively slender, small cat.  To top it off she has developed a quiet heart murmur that, in cats, is associated with heart disease. I had to make a decision. Do I put my elderly cat, who likely only has a year or so left on average, through an invasive surgery to remove a tumor that likely will return in about six months? Yeah, that is pretty much a no-brainer if you focus on quality of life rather than length. She will not be getting another surgery. The tumor will grow. Eventually it will make her shoulder uncomfortable. When she starts showing signs of pain or extreme discomfort I'll talk to the vet about ending her life.

I knew that she was nearing the end of her life. Indoor, well-cared for cats average 12-15 years. I've heard of much older cats but those aren't the average and I'm realistic about these things. But knowing now that I will likely have to euthanize her in the next six months to a year makes it a bit more on my mind.

Isis isn't our only geriatric pet, just the oldest. I know this is just the beginning of the next few years of our pet population decreasing in the house. I'm very much a realist when it comes to life and death of pets but I'm still feeling a little sad.

Under the blanket

I'm deep in my depression while I wait for my new meds to prove effective...or not. I'm spending good portions of my day under a fluffy red blanket on my couch. I'm doing my best. I am surviving.

Rather than blather on in a less than entertaining way about my pointless sadness I shall direct you to one of the best, yet entertaining, blog posts on depression I have ever seen. Enjoy.

Hyperbole and a Half : Adventures in Depression

After that I suggest you wander around her backlog of posts. They are hilarious and wonderful.

It is illogical.

I am a very logical person. I like to think things through. I like steps, processes and formulas. I often write notes and to-do lists in outline format. (I don't speak in a logical way but that is a whole other story.) Even my creative endeavors, baking and knitting, are ones that follow logical steps along with a bit of instinctive direction. I am very proud and very attached to my ability to logically think things through.

I think it is because of this trait that I suffer more than necessary with my mental illnesses. There is nothing logical about what is happening in my mind. I'm sure that deep in the biochemical level there is a logically explainable dysfunction that will someday be discovered but that is my "brain" not my "mind". I have two minds, almost like two identities, during a depressive and/or anxious episode. One is the logical and reasonable mind that sees all the illogical feelings and reactions. It says "I am depressed and crying yet my life is very good. I have loving partners, good health care, all my basic needs are met, and I have a wonderful amount of extra comforts. This makes no sense whatsoever." My logical mind, however, is locked in a glass box by the raving emotional nut ball that is my depressive mind. I'm not even going to try to articulate what that part of my mind sounds like. My logical mind sees all the crazy spilling out but can do nothing to stop it. The medications, when they work, help quiet the crazy part of my mind and let my logical side take most of the control.

Right now, while I change and adjust my new medications, the crazy mind is more often in control. With therapy and a lot of self-care, I can get the logical mind in control for small parts of the day. I can be functional but only in short bursts and at great cost. The rest of the time crazy-mind is running the show. I'm trying to accept that. If I manage to accept that, during those times, logic will not be likely perhaps I would suffer less?

The house guest

I could see it coming. I've gotten very good at spotting it lurking around the edges of my brain. Oozing into the folds of thought. Depression has claimed me once again. The "house guest", as my household calls it, has moved back in. 

I white-knuckled my rational brain through Monkey's surgery knowing that he needed me to be present and able. Thankfully, his recovery has been so uneventful and rapid that I wasn't needed for very long. As soon as he didn't need me I crumbled. Monkey and Author could see it coming too so they were ready for it, though hoping for the best. 

I used to be almost paralyzed with fear when I saw the darkness coming to swallow me. Now I feel like a person preparing for a bad weather. Put up the storm windows and check the flashlights. I can't stop it once it has begun to build but at least now I'm able to lessen the impact while I weather the storm. 

I've started on yet another new medication. Will this one help? More importantly, will it keep working for more than a year or so? There is no way to know. Psychiatry is full of very educated guesses. No one knows exactly how or why these medications work or don't work for some people. It is like juggling when some balls are invisible and you don't know how many there are. But I have try because the other option is to live in this darkness and I just can't accept that. 

Post-Op Rundown

Well, let's start with the fact that Monkey is doing great. Everything on his end went perfectly. Our household ran like precision clockwork getting him prepped and deposited in the care of the pre-op team. We even managed to get them to let both Author and myself in the pre-op room. Monkey was dosed to high heaven on Versed (a sedative) to get him to relax a bit in prep. I've been on one dose before my polyp removal and I was quite relaxed. Monkey, who is much smaller than me, took three doses! He was rather tense. Then they wheeled him away to the OR and Author and I turned back to wait.

Not three steps past the waiting room door I burst into tears. I'm rather proud of myself for lasting that long. Author and I went to sit with family to wait the predicted two hours. And then it was two hours...no word. Two and a half hours...nothing. Three hours and Author and I are fidgeting and staring intently at the beeper the receptionist gave us. Him and I both are telling each other "it is just an estimated time" "he was a bit late getting out of pre-op anyway" and so on. We are watching minutes by now and at 3hrs and ten minutes our buzzer goes off and we dash to the desk. The receptionist tells us that they are closing Monkey up and ushers us into a "consult" room. 

If you've ever had bad news at a hospital you will know about the consult rooms. Bad news isn't the only reason for them. Patient privacy is the primary use for them but you can't help but panic a little when you don't expect to be sent to one. It is a closet-like room with a few chairs, a phone on an end-table and a door. Nothing else. Seriously, not even a coat hook. Author, sheet-white and stone-faced, and me, tears already streaming, shuffle into the tiny room clutching hands. Horrible complications are running through our heads but we don't talk about them. What a terrified pair we must have looked like. Dr. M pops in, takes one look at us while shutting the door, and quickly says "He is doing great." Turns out that Monkey also has some endometriosis messing about and Dr M decided to remove as much as he could find to prevent any future issues. That is what took a little longer. I thought Author was going to pass out from relief....or maybe that was me. That last hour of waiting and the 10 minutes waiting in the consult room was one of the worse experience in my life. I hope I won't be repeating it any time soon.

Wrapping up Monkey's surgery, there was one night spent at the hospital then the released him back home. It is now five days since the surgery and he is already decreasing pain medication and walking around often. Another couple days and he will be ready to go out for a cup of tea or something. The healing is going faster than any of us could have hoped for. 

I am so glad this is behind us!

Preparing for the waiting room.

Monkey is having surgery this Saturday.

I believe I've mentioned it before but I'll give a quick background just in case. Monkey has been dealing with some serious menstrual issues for over a year. A few months ago we found out it was all due to a rather large fibroid making his uterus go wonky. His Doc decided that getting a complete hysterectomy (that is just the uterus and cervix but not the ovaries) was the best option for him. Monkey was thrilled. He hated having a period and the fibroid was making it 10 times worse. I was happy for him. He had a solution to his problems and he wouldn't be bothered with monthly bleeding anymore.

Surgery day is fast approaching and, though I know this is a common operation, it is still major. I've been with Monkey for nearing 13 years and this is the first surgery we have experienced. Monkey is a surgery superstar. He had several surgeries as a kid and young adult. Some of them were pretty big deals. But they were all before I met him. I've never had to sit in a room holding his wedding ring waiting for some one to tell me he made it through fine. I am terrified. I know it is a very small chance that anything could go wrong. I know the statistics. The surgeon is actually the one who did my polyp removal so I know how kind and careful he is. Still, they will wheel away the love of my life, put him under, and cut things out of him. And I can't do anything but wait. I am scared to bits of losing him, no matter how astronomically rare the chance of that happening is.

My brain knows it will be okay. My brain is in control of being sure that I have what I need (Xanax, knitting, tissues), that Monkey has what he needs (distractions) and that everything goes smoothly. My brain knows that it will be a heart-thumping couple hours and a few weeks of careful recovery and then our world will go back to normal.

Kink hoopla & real life

I make a big deal about starting to post more about my kink and D/s part of my life and immediately go on to post about marriage rights and medical maneuvering. Ha! Well, I believe I did mention that it was only part of my life and, quite honestly, it gets pushed to the background when other life stuff gets heavy. This fact, this "real world D/s" kind of situation, is one of the reasons I decided to keep my blogging integrated. Many kink blogs out there are purely kink-oriented so you don't get to see how the power dynamic naturally ebbs and flows around things like tax bills, the car breaking down and the dominate partner needing emotional support while preparing for a surgery. That is real life and real 24/7 D/s. It isn't like the books.

Even when life gets hectic the D/s is still there and we have little ways of keeping things centered. It took us years to find these little things that keep us going during those "ebbing" times. There is one thing in particular that never stops. I wait to eat at dinner until Monkey says I can. It seems such an unlikely ritual for me. Having an eating disorder makes me very triggery around any thing involving food. I have a hard limit about controlling my food because my feelings about food can change in an eye blink. Somehow this works for us though. It is a ritual that takes all of 3 seconds and makes us both reconnect almost every day. As a household we eat dinner at the table together almost every night so it is wrapped up in a household, non-D/s, ritual that we have all committed to.

Other rituals come and go in our life but this one stuck even in the most distracting life situations. Sometimes this ritual is the only overt D/s we have months at a time. It is our touchstone to the other, more complicated, aspect of our relationship.

One pill forward, two pills back

I have been trying to manage my chronic pain in ways that don't leave me zonked out 24/7. I've tried a specific old-school antidepressant that helps pain sometimes. I'm already on a couple other meds to manage my mental health so it had to be a balanced add-on since it could go toxic on me. As we increased the dose some of my nerve pain did go away. Great, right? Everything comes with a price. The last increase has made 3 hour afternoon naps a regular thing (along with a full night sleep) and it has become very obvious that it has increased my appetite, making my binge eating disorder more difficult to control. Fab. Just as I was thinking this med wasn't quite balancing out on the pro/con sheet I got a mildly frantic message from my doctor's office. Getting a mildly frantic message from your doctor's office...ON YOUR BIRTHDAY...is no way to round out the day. After a little phone tag I was told that my levels were too high on my last blood test and that the med could be moving into toxic levels. I needed to decrease today. Great. The thing about antidepressants is you can't just stop taking them. You need to slowly decrease. So I'm slowly stepping down off this med and my nerve pain is showing up again. To be extra whiny about this I will say that with the returning nerve pain I also still have the negative side effects of taking the med.

I hurt, I am sleepy all afternoon, I can't seem to CBT* my way out of the Halloween candy, and I have no idea if my blood levels are still high enough to be toxic. Fan-fucking-tastic.

All whining aside, I know that I have plenty of other good options to try. I have great support from my household and have learned how to deal with my pain in other ways. I see my doctor this week and we will discuss what else is available to me. I actually feel positive about trying something new. But you got to get the whining out somewhere and the interwebs are a vast space in which to dump all that whine!

*CBT: Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. A type of behavior modification that has proven effective in dealing with any unwanted behavior...like emotional eating.

Threading the Loophole

Same-sex marriage isn't legal where I live. Despite the two extremely liberal cities in my state, the haters managed to pass a constitutional ban. (Ptthhhhhht) We do have a Domestic Partnership union that gives us, in this state, all the rights and obligations of marriage. As we all know, this doesn't change the fact that, federally, Monkey and I are legally almost perfect strangers. (I say "almost" because, since I don't work, he gets a small tax deduction for financially supporting a "non-related" adult.)

This is all about to change though. Not, of course, because the federal government has changed the rules but because Monkey feels that he is less F and more M and figures he should make it legal. By changing Monkey's driver's license sex marker from F to M we are suddenly allowed to marry...a federally recognized marriage.

I've seen others stumble into this loophole but usually with people who are......making a more traditional transition. Monkey had breast reduction (not removal) years ago and has no interest in going through that again to remove the rest. He considered taking hormones but he already has some endocrine problems and some other chronic health issues that would make taking testosterone a very, very risky thing. Monkey is unusually short, curvy-hipped. and soft faced. Even if he did top surgery and T he would never, ever pass and he doesn't care. He is male-ish identified and is happy with his identity.

Even though the name and sex identifier change would have happened no matter what I can't say the loophole wasn't a tempting part of the decision. I'm not exactly sure how I feel about that. As a homemaker, it would be much better on our tax bill if we are federally married. And, as a person coming to realize that I'm more disabled that I like to admit, it would be a much safer position. But, what about the injustice of this loophole? The only thing that is changing is Monkey got a letter from a DMV certified therapist to make them change the F to an M. Now we have access to all the marriage perks? I'm personally thankful for this loophole as it will make things easier for Monkey and I but I still feel a little shady for exploiting it.

What is in a name?

Today Monkey changed his name. He changed his first name to what just about everyone calls him. He also changed his last name and, in doing that, changed my name as well.

First, a little back story. Monkey's paternal grandparents were immigrants with a very obviously Polish-Jewish name. His grandmother was having a seriously difficult time finding a job and suspected it was due to antisemitism. She chose to shift her married name, and her children's names, to something not so conspicuous. She found a job shortly after. Who knows it the name change actually worked but I know that this kind of thing was (and still is) very common among immigrants wanting to assimilate to the American culture. However, this assimilation and Americanization of Monkey's family name always bugged him, especially since the rest of the extended family stuck with the original name. When Monkey felt ready to do a legal gender change he decided to tack on changing to the original family name.

Several years ago, I changed my name. My mom had died and my dad had disowned me so I didn't feel very attached to my given name and only used it when I had to give the actual legal name. I chose a new first name and took Monkey's last name, the Americanized one. I knew it was possible that I would have to change my name again. That doesn't bother me. I can't say I won't get a giggle at the confused looks I might get when my extremely Irish looks are matched up with my new, extremely Jewish-Polish name. Funny thing, my given first name is a very Jewish name but my mom had no idea. I use it as my middle name now.

So soon there will be a flurry of activity changing the name everywhere. At least this time I don't need to go through the court order stuff. But that is another post...

An Obligatory Warning

I have had a few responses to my post about talking more about the more adult aspects in my life. All of them were positive which is wonderful (Thank you interwebs people!). I knew some would be fine with it, including one or two who are as kinky as I am. Yet, I still felt I need to do an obligatory warning before diving into a lot of poly, sex and D/s stuff. I can't figure out why that is. What am I afraid of? Hmmm. Perhaps, it is because I'm kind of edgy even in the kinky community. These things are a big part of my life but I haven't been putting them to the front of my mind. There is a backlog of things waiting to be dumped out of my head in a messy pile of sweat, lube and a few tears. 

Well, the obligatory warning is an easy thing to do and it will comfort me for some reason. I might as well do it and move past it. 

An obligatory warning: I am about to post more about some things about sex and kink.. This is to encompass more of what is important in my life. Just to give you a bit of an idea of what I will be talking about I figured I should describe a bit of my identity. I am submissive, a masochist, polyamorous, queer (in the broadest sense), and very sex-positive. I live in a D/s relationship with Monkey and Author. Monkey and I have had this kind of relationship for 12 of our nearly 13 years we've been together. Author and I have only ever had a  D/s relationship. I'm very service-oriented (when I'm healthy) but I am also into BDSM. I'm considered an edge player which means I do things that other kinky people might think are extreme. I am always surprised by this because Monkey, Author and I are very focused on being risk-aware about everything we do. It doesn't seem edgy when we have been so careful about possible harm. This is just a warning that some of my posts might include things that cause me to cry, be bruised, or bleed. This is just a reminder that all of this is completely consensual. 

So...that's it. The warning has been posted. I'll let this sit for a few days and then, hopefully, I'll have some time to talk about this other part of my life. 

The other things in my life.

I've been thinking....

This was never meant to be a ttc/infertility blog. I meant it to encompass all the different facets of my life. However, ttc/infertility hijacked my brain, hell, my life! I rarely blogged about anything else. Well, now that part of my life is coming to a close, most likely without me becoming a parent. I have been pondering what to do with this accidental ttc/infertility blog. 

To put it bluntly, I want to get back to writing about my commitment to living in a D/s relationship with Monkey and Author. (For those not in the know, an educational quickie! D/s is short for Dominate/submissive. This dynamic falls under the larger umbrella of BDSM practices. For a definition of that acronym, google it yourself as I haven't the time to do a Kink 101 class.) However, my blog is listed and pops up on searches for queer ttc. This means many people who may not be comfortable with overtly sexual and kinky subject matters, let alone a lifestyle 24/7 D/s relationship, may show up here. They may be surprised and disturbed by suddenly surfing to what they think is a ttc/if blog and finding themselves knee deep in the ramblings of a kinky submissive. 

On the other side of this, I am a kinky lifestyle submissive who was trying to get pregnant and deal with infertility. I don't like the idea of compartmentalizing my life into separate blogs. I've done it before and it felt very unnatural. It felt like I was hiding my submissive, kinky side. Like I should be secretive and ashamed of the way I am and the way I live. This, of course, is a load of bullshit. I am proud of who I am and the dedication I have to service. I'm not ashamed that I'm a masochistic either.

So here is my dilemma. Do I abandon this blog so that ttc/if followers and searchers don't get freaked out by the newer focus? Or do I continue my blog as it was first intended? A messy mash-up of my life as a kinky, submissive, poly, housemaker, hippyish, punkish, chronic pain suffering, infertile, depression-having, genderqueer. 

I put the question out to the interwebs. Dear readers (all 3 of you) and guests, what are your thoughts? 

Yesterday, Monkey and I talked...or I talked and he mostly listened. I told him it felt pointless to continue with donor inseminations. We've been doing this, off and on, for six years. We figured we have done at least 36+ cycles. We've tried different methods, different donors, acupuncture, herbs, Clo.mid, IUIs at home and in clinic. I've been tested up, down and sideways with nothing really wrong. If the polyps were the big problem I should have conceived by now and the polyps were definitely not there for the first couple years of ttc. I felt there was no realistic chance, after all this time, that I would get pregnant just by shoving sperm in me each month. Something is wrong in some subtle way that we can't detect. I wanted to quit the inseminations and reserve my energy for the two medically-directed cycles. Actually, I'm not sure I want to do even those but I couldn't take that small chance that forcing the system might actually work.

It was so hard to watch Monkey caught in a tug of war between his natural optimism and his logical nurse's brain. He knew I was right about our chances. He knew it was an energy drain with very little possibility of any success. He also really wants to believe that I could still get pregnant. In the end, logic and statistics won out but it hurt me to see his optimism fade. 

So, we have stopped trying until January when we will make one of our last two attempts at having a kid. This is it. We are coming to the end of our ttc-turned-infertility journey. After everything we have been through, no matter how it ends, I feel relieved.

Hoping for a bfn?

As the date of my expected period approached I had two wished. One, that it be late so I didn't need to deal with it while camping (it was) and two, that it would definitely arrive (it did). I actually was hoping to not get pregnant.

For the first time in six long years I've truly had enough. I still find myself sad when I hear that yet another one of my old group of friends has had a baby. I still mourn the loss of the experience of pregnancy and parenthood but even with all that I find myself more and more excited to start the life after infertility. A life where I can make plans without wondering if I'll have to cancel them because I'm pregnant or have an infant. A life where I can redirect all that energy back into my (ahem) adult interests. A life where I can put the sex and BDSM toys back on the freakin' walls! The different life that is waiting for me when we stop trying. I am 99.9% sure that I will never get pregnant and I'm finally okay with that. I'm ready to transfer all the energy it takes to ttc (tracking, sperm donor wrangling, inseming, testing) and move it on to other parts of my life.

So what now? Have I given up? Hell if I know. I only got back from my camping trip yesterday and CD 1 is today so I haven't really had time to talk with Monkey about my feelings. I suspect that, no, I am not giving up quite yet. Monkey isn't in the same place as me with this. I'm willing to keep going for awhile for him. At this point I'd be so shocked if we hit that 0.1% chance of pregnancy that it would likely take me a couple months to mourn the loss of the life I imagined without a kid! Ah, what a mind-fuck that would be!

MIA

So, yeah, I've been missing all summer. I've been feeling pretty ambivalent about this blog. There is so much about ttc here. Coming to this blog seems like I must post about trying to get pregnant or infertility and that feels so...burdening. I do post about other things here but, well, after 6 years of ttc dominating my life those other things are few and far between. Blogging is good for me and I want to continue doing it. I just haven't figured out if it is time to retire this blog and start a new one or continue this one with a commitment to write more about the rest of my life? This will take some thinking.

In the meantime, here are some bullet point updates.

• I'm still ttc with our latest known donor through the end of the year. We have put off our last two infertility intervention tries until at least January. I don't plan on continuing ttc after those tries. I often forget when my period is due now because I only pay attention around insem time. I've been emotionally distancing myself from the process with very little effort.
• Monkey is having a hysterectomy in November because of a hefty fibroid that has taken over his uterus. This doesn't really effect our ttc options as Monkey has never been a possibility for so very many other physical and mental health reasons. It does effect timing and this is why we are postponing the IF tries. I can't imagine trying to handle Clo.mid, IUIs and trigger shots while he is preparing, having, and recovering from surgery. Thankfully, the surgeon is confident that it will be laproscopic surgery so recovery time should be only a few weeks. 
• I've spent the summer really trying to accept and embrace a modified life due to my chronic pain conditions. It has changed the way I do things HUGELY. It is still a struggle not to just push through the pain and finish this or that task. I still hate having to pace myself so carefully. I have managed to accept that I must do this or I will end up even more physically disabled than I already am. 
• I've started baking bread weekly to supply the house rather than buying it. (We do have a back up loaf of store-bought bread this week because I've been sick.) I'm really hoping to get a winter veggie garden up and running as well. This is part of embracing homemaking as my career. I feel like there are so few role models for what I'm doing. I'm no June Cleaver and don't want to be. I'm learning to make my own ideal for being the homemaker for my household (with or without kids).

So, that is the highlights. I'll be posting here still until I decide if I need a clean slate blog or if I want to embrace my baby-crazy past and let the current blog evolve with me. 

I'm off to listen to horror fiction podcasts (or maybe some Nine Inch Nails instead) while I dye some sheets black, clean the bathroom and mop floors. (Yeah, definitely NOT June.) 

Preview of the end

Over the last few years, Monkey and I have drifted away from a specific group of friends. This included drifting away from attending any Jewish events because those friends were also part of the queer Jewish community here. We did this without talking about it or thinking about it too hard but both of us knew it was because of kids.

Monkey and I were the first in this group to start trying to get pregnant. Others started having kids either through birth or adoption. All of them had some struggle or another. One tried for 3 years and had a very tough pregnancy. Another did foster to adopt and had some very rough experiences. I just found out that another couple had a baby via IVF recently. I'm happy all of these people have now had a kid and settled into new family life. In the past five and a half years that we have been trying I've watched this group of friends go from zero kids to several. When Monkey and I started, everyone thought ours would be the first kid in the group. Now we are almost the only ones without kids. We are the only ones that wanted kids but don't have them.

I recently ran into one of this group at a store. We hadn't talked in well over a year. We chatted a bit. I could see in her eyes she wanted so badly to ask if we were still trying. That is when I realized what it would feel like socially to give up on trying. My city isn't very big, our Jewish community is small and our progressive community is downright tiny. Unless I completely stop attending Jewish events, I'm going to run into these families at some point. At some point after giving up I will have to start telling them we gave up. We, the first to start trying, were the ones left empty-handed. The thought of looking across the synagogue to all these friends with kids around them just makes something crack in my heart. It wasn't until I ran into this friend that I realized how hard the social aspect of giving up would be. It isn't just about telling them we couldn't have a kid. As nice and understanding as these people are some of them are going to say something that unintentionally cuts deep and I will have to deal with that, hopefully gracefully.

I haven't given up yet. I know that there is still a chance, small as it is, that I could get pregnant and have a child. There is a chance that Monkey and I will feel emotionally able to look into adoption if we don't have a kid. But because of how slim our chances are now, I can't help but wonder at this possible future.

Finally over

My gyn NP sent me in to get a blood test and an hour later the results were officially negative. Not even a tiny bit of HCG in me. So, this was all just a giant head-fuck courtesy of my little friend Clo.mid. Who knows what it did to mess up my cycle so much. I'm assuming it was a serious delay of ovulation but it could have also been jacking my corpus luteum up so much that it took awhile to let go. No matter the why the what is still the same: No pregnancy....again.

My cycle is so messed up I'm taking off the next cycle. I don't want to go through the stress of trying to plan timing when I really don't know what my body is doing. We have plans to do the first Clo.mid/trigger shot/IUI in Aug/Sept.

What little extra hope I had after the polyp removal is dwindling. I'm moving back to baseline, that place where I'm just going through the motions to check the final steps off my list. I'm not quite hopeless but I wouldn't say I'm all that hopeful.

Late...maybe.

I'm late...maybe. Or maybe I'm not. I have no fucking clue when I ovulated. I know I did because the progesterone test came back higher than I've ever gotten. I've tested and gotten 2 negative pregnancy tests. I have no clue what is going on. This is such a mindfuck. I just want to know, one way or the other. I hate not knowing when I thought I'd have known at least 3 days ago. I'm assuming that I'm not. That my period is just late. It happens. But I can't assume completely. I can't assume enough to have my usual bfn martini. Because I could be just too early. It happens. So which is it?

I've emailed my Gyn NP to ask her how late until I worry that something is wrong. If I hadn't been trying for 5 1/2 fucking years I think I'd have a little more patience. After this long, I think I've shown enough patience for a lifetime.

Clomid Crazy

Okay, so I exaggerate a bit. It actually hasn't been that bad. Well, I say it hasn't been that bad. My household may have a different opinion. I've asked and they say, very quickly, that it hasn't been as bad as previous Clomid cycles. I'm not sure if I believe them but, either way, I feel like I have a handle on the crazy hormone fluxes this time around.

I got my new FSH results. Four years ago, when I first got my FSH tested it was a 5. That is an excellent number for anyone at any age. Now, at 37 years old, my FSH is a 9. That is...fair. It is actually a pretty good number for some one my age. Still, my ovaries are showing my age a bit. I was ready for this result. I knew the statistics. I knew that my age, and the fact that I haven't gotten pregnant after all this time, is counting against me. Monkey, ever the optimist, had a bit of a shock. He's a medical professional so he really likes to grab on to hard results of scans and test. This is the first time we've gotten a test that clearly shows our window is closing. I've tried to tell him this. I've showed him the statistics on fertility over 35 years old but I think he always thought of me as outside of those numbers. When faced with a change from 5 to 9 in FSH over the last 4 years he was taken aback. There in the lab result was a hard fact about me, about our only available egg producer and womb. For the first time in the last 5 1/2 years of ttc it really hit him that I might not get pregnant. Suddenly my sense of urgency seemed more valid to him. Suddenly, he had the same sense of urgency. It also has added a touch of sadness to him that wasn't there before.

On one hand, I like that he is finally on the same page as me. When I say I don't want to wait too long to do the full clinic Clomid cycles he heartily agrees. He has even mentioned months a little before what I was thinking! On the other hand, it hurts to see his optimism fading. Yes, it is realistic and appropriate but I hate to see the sadness in his eyes when he thinks about never having a kid.

Well, statistics and realism aside, I'm not out yet. My FSH shows good ovarian reserve and my estrodiol was good too. My post-ovulation progesterone test is on Sunday so we will see if that is responding to the med as well. My polyps are gone and unlikely to come back rapidly. My donor was able to offer 3 donations this cycle and, even with the weirdness of Clomid, I think I got the timing right. And if it didn't happen this cycle, well we still have a few more over the summer. After that we still have our full on infertility clinic rounds. Who knows, we could get lucky finally. We both hold on to that.

On to the next

My period came a day after the bfn. Kinda late but there can be several reasonable explanations for that. I suspect it had something to do with the horrible antibiotics I've been on for the entire 2ww. I won't go into detail but they really did a number on my digestion. So, here I am at cycle day 2 with my packet of Clomid and my list of instructions for blood tests.

This feels familiar.

Even so, I'm not as down in the dumps as I thought I might be. I didn't cry when I got the bfn or my period. I was disappointed and somewhat annoyed but, in general, not crushed. I'm ready for the next one. I'm ready, more ready than I've ever been, for the Clomid Crazies. I'm ready for the series of blood draws, the OPKs, the frustratingly different fertility signs I get on Clomid and even for the possibility of bursting into tears if some one gets my coffee order wrong. I'm feeling strangely, wonderfully zen about it all. It may not stay but I'm going to enjoy the feeling while it is here.

Waiting for the end

I tested this morning and got to see yet another blank white window on the pee-stick. Another BFN. ::sigh:: I was secretly harboring some high hopes this time but I guess I was just fooling myself again.

I still haven't started bleeding so I'm waiting for that final end. I'm in limbo between a negative test and menstruation. I can't focus on the next try because everything is dependent on what day is cycle day 1. Also, even the most pessimistic ttc-er has that tiny bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, the test was wrong. Maybe the blood won't show and the next test will be positive. I can't help but wish that just a little but mostly I just want it to end so I can move forward.

The longest day of the 2ww

Today is the worst day of any 2 week wait. Today is the last day. My period is due tomorrow. I will be testing tomorrow. Today will be a long day.

I've become so much better about dealing with the ups and downs of trying to get pregnant and infertility but this last day is always hard, no matter how well I'm doing. Will I bleed? Are those menstrual cramps or pregnancy stretching cramps? Are my boobs more sore? If they are, is that a sign that I will or won't get my period. Every trip to the bathroom includes staring at the toilet paper after using it. Is that a spot of red I see or just a trick of the light? The last day of the 2ww takes so much energy.

If this cycle is a bust then I start my Clomid Challenge Test. Joy.

Poor little Frankenkitty!

A few months back we noticed that my eldest cat, Isis, was slowly growing a lump under the skin on her forehead. We had the vet check it back in December. She recommended we have it removed and sent to a lab. We had time to save up for the surgery since it was so slow growing. We had the lump removed last week and it went very smoothly. Still, my poor kitty came home with a huge suture covering most of the top of her skull. They wanted to remove past the borders of the mass just in case it turned out to be malignant. They did a great job with nice tight stitches. We just had her recheck this morning and they say she will be ready to have them removed next week.

In the 13 years I've had Isis she has never needed anything but a couple teeth removed. She was spayed and healed up before I adopted her. She's never even been sick. This would be my first time seeing her in recovery. I don't "speak cat" though I love my felines dearly. Seeing her the first night with the fresh sutures and doped up high on pain killers I was near frantic with worry. The other cats have all had issues before. Zeek was spayed after we adopted her. Fiend is a bundle of health issues. I "speak dog" so I know instantly how dogs are doing even if I don't know exactly what's wrong. I had no idea what a distressed Isis would look like. Thankfully, Author is an old hand at nursing recovering cats. That first night I hovered over my cat while Author watched Isis and reassured me that all was going very well. Another win for the combined skills of a poly household!

Is it really different?

I've been afraid to post. I'm afraid to talk about what is happening in ttc because things have been going so smoothly that it seems all too simple right now. I guess, after 5 1/2 years of fertility angst, I feel I might jinx any smooth sailing we have. If I manage to get pregnant I'm guessing I will feel this even more. But I'm trying to embrace the positive so here is what is up in our queer ttc-land.

I healed up from my polyp removal procedure very well. I had my post-op check up four weeks after the surgery and the doc cleared me to start trying again. With in a week I was hunting for a new known donor. Last week we met with a finalist on our potential donors and by the end of the meeting we were setting up the first insemination date..which happened to be less than a week later. That was this past Monday. Wednesday was the second insem. Timing was perfect and I ovulated Thursday.

Now for a bit about Mr Donor. He prefers to be pretty quiet about all this but I can say that we are only his second donor experience. The first couple he worked with was last month and they got pregnant on the first try after a long time trying with frozen. He is kind of Conservative which is a little strange but he seems to be a bit Libertarain leaning so the whole "live and let live" thing makes him okay with us being queer, poly, tattooed and pierced weirdos. His only rule is he wants to know the relationship is solid and stable. Well, Monkey and I have been together for 12+ years so we passed that requirement. :) He met Author and, after some questions about how we structure our family, he said he thought it was unique. That was it.

Every donor brings a unique and often hilarious situations. Mr Donor prefers to keep exchanges during working hours and in public places. This is so it doesn't take time away from his family. As a result, we are doing the sperm pass-off at a local mall food court. Yes, really. As long as there is less than an hour between creation and insemination, and is in a dark jar with a lid and kept warm, it is still viable. Author has decided that if I get pregnant the belly name will be "mall rat".

So I'm back in it! Next cycle I'll be doing a Clomid challenge test with lots of blood work and insems with Mr. Donor. I'm on the last leg of my ttc journey. I either get pregnant or I accept a new future without children. Now I just have to wait to find out which one it is.

Mark a Win

The last two years have been all about becoming more healthy. I started with properly treating my depression and anxiety (check!), moved on to addressing my eating disorder and obesity (check and ongoing check!) and lately it has been all about dealing with chronic pain.

Yes, I have chronic pain. I consistantly averaged a 6-7 on the pain scale daily. (Anything over a 4 on the pain scale will trigger most doctors to hand you prescription strength pain killers.) This started when I got a pretty severe repetitive stress injury in my back and right arm at 25 years old. It took six months to go back to regular full time work and a year to get to a stable point. Even then I was marked off as having permanently lost 8% of my physical ability forever. I was told that I would have flare ups of back pain for the rest of my life and a higher chance of tendon issues and arthritis. I assumed this meant I should just push through the pain because it would never really go away. I came from a family of addicts (various) so I wasn't about to pop narcotics on a regular basis and risk addiction. So I ignored it...for the last 11 years. And, surprise, the pain got worse. I injured myself repeatedly and had horrible flare ups that left me crying on the couch unable to move my arms. It made my depression and anxiety worse. It make me binge more for comfort. It made exercise 10x harder and so I continued to gain weight....which made my pain worse. You see how this feedback loop goes?

Well, silly me, I didn't realize the damage I was continually doing. Not just to my body but to my brain! I knew about neural pathways and how they become more likely to follow well used connections, like a rut in the road, but I never made the connection to pain messages. I have spent the last 11 years making deep ruts in my pain pathways. Now some of my pain has nothing to do with actual physical injury! The damn buggers are just zapping my brain with pain messages any old time they feel like it! (Side note: It is a theory that this is a possible cause of fibromyalgia. My primary NP suspects I would meet the diagnostic criteria for fibromyalgia but I don't think I'll bother with that.)

Two years ago this would have seemed like a situation impossible to change. I would feel helpless and hopeless. Thankfully, I'm new-found stability gave me the platform to address this. About 6 months into this new pain improvement project and I feel fantastic! I've tracked my pain, discovered what helps and what hurts. I've re-organized my chores, my kitchen set up and learned to ask for help from Monkey and Author when I have flare ups. As a result, I'm spending most of my time at a 1-2 on the pain scale and managing to get more done that I did before! I have accepted that careful use of some mild narcotic pain meds are a good thing and that, if I don't ignore my pain, I'm less likely to need them. I've added a regular, non-narcotic med that is managing my nerve-related pain amazingly.

So I'm marking another win in the "Bear 2.0" project!

Polyps-be-gone

I am in love with my nurse anesthetist. My whole surgical team was fab but he really made my experience a million times more comforting. He came in to ask me the same questions as everyone else for the millionth time. (Since I know exactly why they do that so I don't get annoyed like some patients do.) When I told him I'd rather do deep sedation than general anesthesia he asked me if there was a particular reason. When I told him about my horrible experience with general when I was 12 years old he seemed horrified. He immediately left the computer terminal he was working on and came to kneel by my bed. He told me that he could tell from my description what drug was used and they administered it way too soon. He told me he doesn't use that drug at all. He carefully described what he does now, how it will feel and that he will be able to tell if I'm in any discomfort. I felt completely reassured. I trusted him and the rest of the team to take very good care of me.

I don't remember the surgery at all, though there was a chance I might remember something. I dreamed about the BBC Sherlock series reboot while I was sedated. I don't remember what exactly I dreamed but I remember being quite entertained. I woke up kind of fuzzy headed and took awhile to really get back to reality. I was sore and a little crampy but not a lot. My cramps got worse later on in the day but I had plenty of pain med options and got it under control. All in all it was a very positive experience.

It turns out there were actually 3 polyps in there. The one we could see on the ultrasound was just the easiest to see. The second polyp was almost as big as the one we knew of but shaped and positioned in a way that would make it difficult to see any other way but with hysteroscopy. The third one was a tiny one just starting to form. He didn't even need to snip that one as it disintegrated when he started to try to remove it. After he was sure they were all removed he did a D&C to clear out the lining. He said that this should really make a difference in the changes in bleeding I've been noticing. He also said he really hopes "things work out" for me. (We couldn't actually say that the main reason for this was fertility since it wouldn't have been covered by my insurance but everyone knew that was my main reason.)

Knowing that there were 3 polyps crowding in my uterus, two of which were big enough to cause breaks in my lining, I feel pretty confident that this could be the cause of my infertility the last few years. That doesn't leave a lot of room for anything to implant comfortably. Dr. M said I could start trying again after I have one normal period.

I'm not sure what comes next. I'm not sure if we will try a medicated cycle first. All I know is that I'm more hopeful now than I've been in a very long time.

Fears and hopes

My surgery to remove the polyp in my uterus is Monday. I've had my pre-op exam and instructions have been given. It didn't seem very real until my pre-op yesterday. Now it seems to hang in front of me full of hope and fear.

Fear because I'm not accustom to medical procedures, even minor ones like this one. I'm a pretty hail and hardy person. The last time I had any kind of surgery it was to remove my tonsillitis when I was 12. Monkey has been doing his best put me at ease. He was a very sickly child and his life has been filled with surgeries and procedures of varying seriousness. (The fact that he is so healthy now is a testament to how hard people worked to get him that way when he was a child.) Compared to the things he has been through this is nothing but I'm still a little nervous. The pre-op helped to calm me. I like to know everything, all the little details, and the surgeon was happy to talk me through it all. Between Dr. M, Monkey, and Author the fear has been dimmed down to a dull anxiety which seems perfectly manageable all things considered.

I think the thing I fear the most, really, is the hope this brings. After five years of trying, and failing, to get pregnant and never knowing why that might be I finally have a possible explanation. With that explanation comes a rather easy possible fix of the problem. This may be what has been getting in the way of a pregnancy. After this I'll be heading back into ttc-land with a fresh start. A truly fresh start with a cleaned out lining, a lower weight than a few years ago and a much better handle on my mental health. I'm afraid to hope too much. This may not be the reason I'm not getting pregnant. I may start ttc after this procedure and spend the next year on the same disappointing roller coaster that I've ridden for the last five years.

But, maybe...just maybe I will finally get that elusive prize. I have to hope, no matter how much I fear that hope. What else can I do? I'm just not quite ready to give up on this dream just yet.

The new hope?

After waiting for 2 weeks we finally got the results of my pelvic ultrasound. I knew after a week of no info that something might be up and when my NP called me at 7pm on a Friday I was sure it was more than just an "all clear" talk.

It seems I have a significant polyp in my uterus. Well, large when you consider the normal size of a uterus. It is about the size of an eraser on the end of a pencil. The delay in getting the results was my NP wanting a surgery consult before talking with me so that she could tell me all the options. I think she was also figuring out a way to code it so that it is covered under regular gyn rather than infertility so it will cost us a lot less to get it removed. I love my gyn NP. :)

It has been over 4 years since the last time they looked inside my pelvic area but it could have possibly been growing and irritating things for the last 2 years considering the size. Removing it may not magically result in a pregnancy but there are studies showing that it can be a significant factor in infertility. No matter the lack of certainty on effecting fertility we are having it removed. I'm waiting to hear from the surgeon's office to get the ball rolling.

Is this an explanation? Is this possibly a chance to hope again? Monkey and I have decided that there is enough evidence that it could be that our planned "2 last tries" are not enough. If I'm going to have pevic surgery for this then I want at least 6 more tries. Monkey is hoping I'll be willing to go for another year of tries. We'll see. We will still do those 2 clo.mid/trigger/IUI tries in there somewhere but we aren't sure what we are going to do about the rest. Find another known donor? We have an offer that came out of the blue that Author and Monkey are exploring. Or are we going to do some home IUIs with frozen so we don't have to coordinate another person's schedule? Neither of us can think about it too much until after the surgery.

I'm feeling...ambivalent about all this. Hmm, yes, simultaneous and contradictory feelings. Ambivalent is definitely the correct word. I know that this isn't a guaranteed solution. I could do the surgery, try for another year and still not get pregnant. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed and angered by the thought of another 6-12 2 week waits. I just got to a place of acceptance that chances are I wouldn't have a child! But, the chances are in our favor that this polyp has been preventing me from getting pregnant and removing it could be what we need to finally become pregnant. An exciting and hopeful thought. I'm trying to hold on to the hopeful side of this new development. Maybe this will be the magic treatment that finally gives me a baby.

How did it get to be 2012?!?!

Everything is moving so fast! How did we get ankle deep in to January already?!

I'm making good things happen in my life. I've been doing lots of new crafty things, started a (phone) photography project, plugging away at hooping, knitting outside my comfort zone, clearing out clutter and planning some redecorating. All of this is helping with the seasonal crap that has been bogging me down a bit.

December contained:
*A sick dog who is now all better after $1,000 of vet bills. That was after the savings I get for having a Pet Insurance Plan.

*An XBox 360 with Kinect as a holiday gift for the household. I'm not a big gamer but this thing is a lot of fun. Also, having my Hulu and Netflix set up through the XBox is super cool.

*A Nook E-Reader. I love it. So far I've been loading it up with knitting patterns and taking advantage of my local library's e-book lending. After a book resell trip to Powell's for credit I'll be loading it up with some books from their e-book offerings. (Nook is from Barnes & Noble but, unlike Kindle, they make it easy to put other format types on your e-reader.)

*A very crazy month of eating whatever I wanted...a bit too much. I'm back on the WW wagon to continue my healthy habit building.

*An Instagram photo challenge where I took a photo every day of December to match each day's theme. I'll be doing a post with a link to those pictures. I loved doing the daily themes but I've moved to weekly themes for 2012 to give me a bit more breathing room. If you are on Instagram and want to follow me I use the name "yeledov" so look me up!

*A lot of physical therapy for a moderate tear in my right rotator cuff. I'm improving slowly and have at few more months of this. It has put a serious cramp in my hooping practice but I work with what I have.

Coming up in January:
*Baseline ultrasound to double check that my reproductive bits are structurally normal. I've had one before but it was 4 years ago.

*Clomid Challenge Test without insemination. Now that I'm in the "elderly" age bracket for infertility my NP wants to check my response to Clomid again. I have another cycle of side effects and blood tests to look forward to. This will tell us if it is still worth the money and stress of doing the last two infertility cycles or if we should just throw in the towel now. Strangely, I'm not too worried about this. I think, whatever my problem is, it isn't my ability to ovulate.

*A landmark birthday for Monkey. He is crossing the 35 year line. I'm not sure why but this seems like a big deal.

*Lots and Lots of new crafting/art/knitting things.

I'm going to try to blog more. I'm still trying to decide if I need to make a creative arts blog as well or if I should keep it all mixed up here. Hmmm.