Ex Post Facto

Seeing the light

I have a confession to make.

I get very anxious when I see red neon lights.  I'm talking "sweaty palms, racing heartbeat, I have to get the hell away from here" kind of anxious.  I hide it really well, in fact no one in my day to day existence would know that I have this reaction to somthing so mundane. The funny thing is its almost as base as a Pavlovian dog kind of reaction, there's little concious thought involved.  Whenever I go to the gas station to fill up I pull into the pump facing away from the storefront and its bright neon light advertising coffee.  Seeing the stupid "Hot Donuts Now" sign at Krispy Kreme bothers me even as we cruise by.

Sounds like I might need to check in to Bellevue, no?

I do know where it stems from, but I don't know how to make the anxiety associated with it go away. In October of last year, after a particulary bad few days of HG-ing, I was sent back to the emergency room and tanked up with fluids, anti-emetics, potassium, and antibiotics.  I was finally discharged in the wee hours of the morning and Himself and I got in the car.  Amazingly I felt hungry so I pleaded with Himself to drive to Steak and Shake.  We went in and ordered milkshakes.  I sat down and timidly began sipping and then a few moments later began to drink with gusto.  Moments later, I was running to the bathroom.

I threw up as soon as I pushed open the door to the ladies room.  Then I threw up all over the mirror as I was trying to wipe off my shirt.  Next thing I knew I felt my stomach began to cramp and the Macrobid they had given me for the bladder infection took over.  Within minutes I was laying on the nasty bathroom floor of a Steak and Shake and throwing up blood all over myself.  I kept trying to get up and couldn't.  Quite a bit of time must have passed because Himself knocked on the door to the ladies room and when I didn't respond he came in to find me in a pool of vomit, blood and other unpleasantness.  He carried me out into the dining area and all I could see were the glaring neon lights that lined the perimeter of the restaurant.  That redness for some reason made me feel even more ill.  I then puked all over the manager's shoes who had come to see what the commotion was. 

Somehow Himself got me to the car and began speeding home.  We had to pull off at a gas station where I rushed in and sat on the toilet in the most disgusting bathroom with a trash can on my lap.  I must have been in there for a good 45 minutes before exiting.  As soon as I stumbled out, I saw a red neon light proclaiming that the store was open for business and the puking started all over again.  By 7am I was readmitted and kept for a week.  Later that day I learned that its not uncommon for HGers to have a color/light sensitivity.

My anxiety doesn't stop with red neon lights. 

After being isolated for so long, I have found that I seem to be uncomfortable around other people.  Even now - almost a year later.  I feel as if I don't know how to relate to others. I quit blogging. I quit talking on the phone.  I quit going anywhere actually.

Just in the past month or so I have begun to feel like physically I am getting back to normal.  After fighting a long term staph infection (I'll go into this more in an upcoming post) and dealing with other ramifications of HG stuff that I didn't anticipate I feel like its time to work on the mental piece.  I haven't gone back to work since losing my job, so I am trying to figure out what I want to do with myself. 

To that end I have made a New Year's Resolution to get out of my house and reconnect.  Today I forced myself to go to a Mom's lunch get together.  It took me 20 minutes to get out of my house; I kept telling myself that I should just stay home.  I have no idea why I am so anxious about meeting other people all of a sudden; I used to be so outgoing.  I had to call Himself from the parking lot of the restaurant today to give me a pep talk to go in.  How lame is that? 

I did go in and meet these women and they were very kind.  I just still felt out of touch.  I'm not really sure how to relate.  Perhaps I am being a victim but its hard to talk about babies and having more and all that.  I always knew that infertility was isolating - dividing folks into separate camps - but I wasn't prepared for that to continue even after Leah Catherine arrived.  I am proud though that I did finally go and meet other moms and I keep promising myself that I will conquer these fears...neon lights included.

40 weeks

For the record, I just spent 45 minutes puking.  HG till the bitter end, I suppose.  Is it twisted to be looking forward to the lactated ringers tomorrow?  Betcha I could start my own IV.

I am 40 weeks today and I have a damn upper respiratory infection.  I think I caught it during my foray into the real world at the birthday party. Wouldn't you know it would end like that for me?  I am on Day 2 of a Z pack and I hope to God that I am feeling its efffects very shortly. 

It's almost over....and its so surreal that I am not even excited.  Well, I am excited that I get to see all my favorite nurses at 7:30 am tomorrow. Guess I should finally pack that damn bag, eh?

I'm packing take out menus for all my favorite places first.

And for fun...Himself took some pictures to show me why people look so surprised when I turn around.

Am I A Glutton for Punishment or What?

As of my last post, I was originally offered an induction at 37 weeks with an amnio to check for a lung maturity.  Then it was a Valentine's Day induction at 39 weeks.  Somehow between receiving that offer and the next appointment at 37 weeks I freaked and turned down next weeks induction offer.  So I wait and I puke.

Dr. Holy Shit, He's Hot as Hell was on today and he took pity on me when he walked into the exam room and saw my green countenance.  He sat down, took my hands into his own and asked me why in the world had I changed my mind on the induction at 39 weeks.  Then he said, "I don't even need to ask do I?"  I gave him a half-assed smile and said, "You know I feel like I've come out on the bad end of statistics one time too many and I just can't tempt fate by trying to force her out early. With my luck it could all go to hell."  He nodded sagely and inquired, "What about 40 weeks? Say we draw a line in the sand and we shoot for your due date?"

That I could live with.  I will have a baby in 13 days or less - assuming it doesn't all go tits up in the end.

Holy Shit.  I can do anything for 13 days - even HG for 13 days.  I'm buckling in for the last bit of this ride...I couldn't have done it without your support.

I can't wait to see her face...and awaken without the room spinning from nausea.

Denial Ain't Just A River in Egypt

People keep talking to me about things like baby showers, hospital bags, coming home outfits, installing car seats and internal exams.  If only I could just figure out why.

I am 36 weeks today, so I suppose in jacked up layman's terms I am now 9 months pregnant (even though the rest of us know that pregnancy really is 10 months since its 40 weeks, but I digress).  How in the hell did that happen?  I still feel like I never got out of the first trimester - I mean I do still vomit daily like a first trimester gal.  Himself keeps pushing me along and encouraging me to pack a bag for the hospital but I cannot do it for the life of me.  I google stupid shit like "what to pack for labor", read the list that comes up and then click on that little x at the top of the window and then go on about my day.  I just cannot seem to do it and my only idea is that its denial.

I miss my PICC line - which is probably a weird thing to say, but its such a monumental pain in the ass to go in for a peripheral line and then a few bags of fluids.  I can go about 3-5 days in between rehydration depending on a variety of factors, so while not a fluffy pregnancy it's certainly improvement.  I did have a baby shower a few weeks ago that was wonderful but it felt like a farce in many ways. Never one to disappoint, I did have to go hurl in the middle of opening gifts. I simply cannot reconcile these pink clothes and toys with a real live baby that I am going to have.  In some jacked up place in my mind I am not really pregnant.  Maybe its a part first time mom, part infertility, part I have been so damn sick and isolated that it never sunk in that I was pregnant?  I wander my house aimlessly a lot lately, almost in shock when I stumble on these little indications that indeed, there just might be a baby here soon.  The stroller in the dining room sent me into a total tail spin yesterday - I sat down and just stared at it.

On Monday I had my 36 week checkup - its funny because most women are starting weekly appointments now, hell I never had anything but.  It was strangely comforting to me to go back to appointments where I don't wear any pants - considering that's how I got here to begin with.  I felt like I was back at SNATCH all over again.  I was even more shocked when the doctor told me that I had begun to dilate and was effacing.  Huh, that's wild.  I even have an induction date for Valentine's Day since they see no need to make me suffer the HG longer, of course it assumes that I have had positive cervical changes - but it looks like that might actually work out.  The OB asked what we were going to name the baby and I very deadpan replied, "Emesis.  We'll call her Emma for short."  I still don't think he's figured out if I was joking.

How do I say on an infertility blog that I have been very angry about how things have gone lately?  Is it okay for me to be pissed off that my pregnancy has sucked when others are dying to be pregnant?  Is it okay for me to say that when I hear and read discussions about people talking about trying to conceive again it makes me cringe?  I am very angry about a lot of things.  In my darkest moments I want to scream at the world? universe? powers that be? myself? 

You see, there is this really bad, dark place for me right now that says "Was all this really worth it?" I hate even giving voice to that, but I really don't know yet if it was. I am in IVF debt up to my eyeballs (which I know you guys are sick to death of hearing - but God, it was and is a lot of money - dude its a college education), unemployed, and my body is all jacked up from HG. Not to mention the medical bills from the pregnancy. I selfishly want to scream aloud and say "Goddamn it - how much more am I going to have to prostrate myself to the universe to prove that I deserve to be a mom?" I guess that makes me a very bitter person? All I know is that is how I feel.

I mean how can I even consider doing this again - even though we now have IVF coverage? How could I do this to my daughter - make her live through this? How could I do it to Himself? He would essentially be a single parent for a bit. I mean it could be worse next time - I could be stuck in a hospital with the NG tube and not get off easy with the PICC line. How can I run the risk of multiples with another round of IVF - surely I'd be even sicker.  Even further - who the hell am I to assume that we'd get lucky again and have IVF work?  We all know its all about chance with this shit.

At the same time, I am an only child - so in some ways I can see how LC would thrive as an only. I am blessed with a phenomenal relationship with my mom - she is my best friend. But here's the crux. When my mom and dad die - I am alone in this world - no one else knows my history. If I had a sibling I think it would be more bearable. It will honestly kill me when I lose my mother and frankly I am terrifed of that day. I want LC to have someone who knows her history.

My husband is also the last male in his family line. I desperately want to give him a son. Beyond the name thing I remember the day that I found out that we were having a girl. I had the strangest train of thought and I remember calling a friend and telling her this on the phone; I was overjoyed that I was having a girl, but at the same time I was sad that she couldn't be a boy too. Perhaps that makes me selfish for wanting both, but it is what it is.

There is yet another part of me that desperately wants to try again. The vanishing twin of this pregnancy really haunts me. Sure that baby didn't make it past 6.5 weeks but damn it, I still feel like I lost someone there. I don't talk about it because it makes me sound ungrateful and when I did mention it to a friend all I heard was how glad I should be that I only had one since I was so sick. Well, I was still sad.

I don't know what we will do in the future. It made me angry that infertility tried to rob Himself and I of the family we wanted and we fought like mad against fate and our circumstances - I mean come on people, $25k? Holy shit, I still can't believe we took that leap - but damn it, I refused to be a victim to circumstance. Now its HG. In my heart of hearts I am so afraid that something will happen to LC and that she will be stillborn. I think that may be why I am in such denial.  If I start to assume that this baby really is coming - I am afraid that I tempt fate to swoop in and fuck things up some more.  I will seriously lose my mind if that happened - I'm talking open mouth, insert gun kind of losing it. In reality, I know the liklihood of that is slim to none but damn I just feel like I can't expect anything to go right on the reproductive train for us. I seriously digress there.

Anyways, I hate to think that HG will dictate what we will do, but one of the OBs last week asked me if I was going to do this to myself again and told me that they wouldn't. Can you imagine how hard that was to hear? At my shower someone said to me - wow, I bet adoption sounds good to you, huh? Because adoption should be viewed as a backup choice, like its second best, huh?  That's almost as bad as someone saying, "you can always just adopt."  Again those adoptable children are on every street corner throwing themselves at my car as I pass, right?

I swear this whole topic is such a quagmire for us - but let's just say that I don't rule anything out - I still want more children - I just have to see if it REALLY all is worth the price Himself and I have paid. At this point we don't even have a final tally on the price because I dont' know if my child is going to be okay after the meds I have packed into my body and my minimal weight gain. Its all really fresh to me now so I don't have the perspective of time to dull the pain of losing a lot. I also don't have my daughter here yet to tangibly hold and kiss.

I'm sorry for rambling and I probably sound like the most ungrateful bitch - but this is where my head is lately. I think because the idea that we would actually have a real, live baby at the end of this is so abstract I seem consumed with this.  I am tired of being a damn trainwreck that's for sure.

Pinocchio & I have something in common

I've got no strings
To hold me down
To make me fret, or make me frown
I had strings
But now I'm free
There are no strings on me!

After 101 days with it as my constant companion - the PICC line was pulled today due to the increased risk of infection and the damage it could cause to me and LC at this point even though I am losing weight again.  I am very nervous but our plan is to run with peripeherals as needed.  I'm really looking forward to scratching the hell out of my arm in 24 hours - the allergy I developed to the adhesive was pretty nasty.  Keep your fingers crossed for me that I can hang sans IV for a spell. 

My Sippy Cup and Some Pictures

This past weekend was my nephew's 3rd birthday so I braved a visit to see him, SIL, BIL, FIL, MIL and the rest of the nieces and nephews. When we got there the birthday boy, Dominic, was upstairs finishing his nap. Himself got me settled on the sofa with my IV pump backpack laying next to me. A little while later Dominic came bounding downstairs and made a beeline for me and curled up right next to me. I haven't seen the kids since getting pregnant because I have been so sick and he was hugging me like mad. He then spotted the IV tubing coming from my PICC line and gently picked it up and said, "Aunt Beth, what is this?"

I replied, "Knickerbocker (my pet nickname for Dominic), do you know how you drink your water out of your sippy cup? Well this is how I drink my water right now"

Dominic looked at me, cocked his head, and then said knowingly, "Oh so that's your straw!!" I cracked up. Of course he was very curious about the boo-boo on my arm (the PICC site) and wanted to see the baby now - until he found out it was a girl.  His future cousin lost all appeal for him then. 

On Friday, I also had a growth ultrasound to check on the LC.  She's pretty petite but she's looking okay despite all my attempts to screw her up.  Apparently the ultrasound tech couldn't get my name right and I am now Lisa rather than Beth - but hey, what can you do?  We have also put to rest the debate of whether or not the chandelier stays or goes - she's still a girl so its staying.  As for me, the OB seemed pretty happy that I was holding my weight these days and have had some drop in the amount of vomiting.  The nausea continues unabated, but hey, what's new at this point?

The L.C. - Profile Shot

The L.C. - Creepy Face Shot - Seriously, this picture gives me the heebie jeebies! What is up with the eye thing?  Uh oh...did my sensitive mother license just slip away with that comment? 

The L.C.  - All Girl and will have a chandlier to swing from, much to Himself's chagrin!

Oh what the hell, 30 week belly picture - still under my prepregnancy weight even though I look as big as house.  How is that possible?

Random thoughts via a list

1. Hyperemesis is not kind to your teeth.  I went to the dentist for pain and discovered 6 cavities.  No plaque build up - so the damage is thanks to the stomach acid.  Lovely.  The dentist fixed one and is saving the rest for after delivery; not exactly the celebration I had in mind.

2. I failed the 1 hour glucose screening and was forced to take the 3 hour test.  Absolute hell, but I passed.

3. I went for the first complete week without throwing up since July on Saturday.  Guess what I have done every day since, though.  Hey, its progress.

4. I have gained a total of 11 pounds for this pregnancy. Maybe I will eventually get back to my prepregnancy weight.  I keep gaining a pound and then losing it.  Its pretty frustrating.

5. Despite intramuscular iron shots, I remain pretty darn anemic - we're going to check my levels again closer to Christmas. Unfortunately the anemia leaves me exhausted - going up the stairs necessitates sitting down for a spell.

6. Somehow my uterus still measures on dates and we're having an ultrasound on Friday to check on on the baby's growth.

7. There is a room in our house that is now being referred to as a nursery.  The only thing in it is a chandelier (Himself just shakes his head at this "over the top" behavior on my part), fresh paint and crown molding - all compliments of my Dad and Himself.

8. My long term disability claim was approved through 6 weeks post partum or 8 weeks depending on method of delivery.  I plan to take and additional 6 weeks after that.

9. We're taking a birthing class and I hate people who bring food to these classes.  Especially smelly food.

10. I will be 30 weeks tomorrow.  If one more person says, "oh, its almost over" to me I may start screaming and never stop. When you are nauseated, even 30 minutes seems like a month. 

11. Himself and I also took a breastfeeding class.  Breastfeeding is really important to me, but I have a lot of fears about it.  I know I will be returning to work at 12 weeks post partum and travel with work.  I also don't have a very expansive breastfeeding support system - no siblings and I myself was formula fed.  So I read everything I can get my hands on.  The weirdest part is that I continue to be very uncomfortable making plans for this baby until she's here - the lasting impacts of infertility I surmise.

12. My PICC line is still in and I am infusing fluids every other day or daily - it just depends on how that day shapes up.  The PICC is no longer giving blood return, but its flushing and infusing great so we're not too worried about it.

13. Having a backpack pump is the best thing that every happened to me vis-a-vis fluids - it keeps me from being chained downstairs to an IV pole.

14. I drove my car last Saturday for the first time without throwing up since August.  My mother, my friend Lora, and I all went to a Britax warehouse sale.  We scored Decathalons for $140 - not too shabby. My mom ended up driving my car home because I was pretty nauseated by the time we left.  Then I slept for the rest of the day and ran fluids.  But it was so wonderful to get out of the house and see the rest of the world 

15. Himself's birthday is rapidly approaching - Christmas Day - and he will be 30.  Hard for me to believe, considering I've known him since he was 18. 

16. Speaking of Christams - I'm boycotting it this year.  When you are dependent on others to help with everything, you pick and choose the tasks you need help with and Christmas decorating and cards just weren't a priority this year.  Nor was shopping. 

17. I worry a lot about the permanent effects from HG on my daughter.  The other night I caught this blurb on the news about how mother's who gain less than 20% of their prepregnancy weight during pregnancy have less intelligent babies; as do mothers who are anemic.  I turned the tv off and cried - I wanted my child to have the best of everything.  Then, I got over it - because I have done the very best that I could have.

18. I was rereading my "100 things about me" list the other day and chuckled when I came across item 59: "I hate the month of February - bad news always seems to come to me then."  I'm hoping that this February I get the best thing I have ever had - my daughter.

19.  I apologize for being so itemized in this post, but frankly I am exhausted and still feeling pukey these days, so I spend the majority of my energy on getting through.  The days seem to run together.  I can't wait to be HG free and I am counting the days till I can hold my daughter.

20. I can't wait until I can take a shower by myself again - don't get me wrong, Himself is great, but I miss being able to shower whenever I want to.  I think I may do a photoessay of the process of getting the PICC line protected so that I can bathe - its amusing.

Aww, Beck composed a theme song for HG

It's quarter till five - what, no lactated ringers? Edited - a lesson learned

I'm living dangerously today. 

You see I only threw up once yesterday - granted it was in a shopping center parking lot, but hey, we all know location has ceased to bother me.  Once.  Only once.  That's phenomenal in my world.

So I'm living a little dangerously today and playing the "can I do a day without fluids game?".  Its nerve wracking frankly.  For the past 54 days I have infused at bare minimum 1 bag of fluids a day, and only a handful of days have been limited to just one dag - I typically run two bags out of necessity.  I'm hoping that I can continue to force the apple juice that I have measured out into 6 ounce servings today and can keep myself hydrated despite my normal nausea.  Do I think I'll be able to go sans fluids for more than just today - not a chance, but you have to start somewhere right? 

I have the crazy hope that maybe, just maybe, I might be turning the corner here.  I fully expect to need to be medicated till the end, but I seem to have stopped the weight loss and am working hard on regaining lost ground.  At my OB appointment on Friday I learned that I have managed a 5 lb weight gain over the past 3 weeks.  I got several "atta girl's" from the nurses and congrats from the OBs in my practice. 

Keep your fingers crossed that I can keep this thing going today.

7:10 pm - Well, shit.  Things can go downhill awfully fast.  I'm not sure if it's that I let my stomach get too empty (Himself is at the office dealing with a major project deadline of tomorrow morning) and the stomach acid took over or if I simply couldn't push enough fluids by mouth.  Thankfully my father came over to paint The LC's nursery (a Williamsburg Blue doesn't really work with a girl, eh?) and has been sent to go find me something to eat (a plain baked potato from Wendy's is en route).  After a bout of what I think normal morning sickness might be like (i.e. 20 minutes of steady throwing up but no bile or blood), I've got a bag of fluids running, got a bolus of Zofran and am trying to recover. Damn it, why can't this just end enough for me to get past IV fluids?  I always know we are heading towards a meltdown when I get hypersensitive to lights or my dogs barking while they play.  When I get really emotional it tends to signal some dehydration is setting in - because everything is so much morre upsetting when you are dehydrated for some reason.  As usual I digress.  Hmm, maybe I can try again tomorrow.  What in the world can I push fluid wise?  I can't drink water because its a major trigger for me and always comes up so that's out.  I need something that I can drink that is hydrating.  Sadly I can always stand flat, room temperature Coke but that's dehydrating.  Maybe I can try some Gatorade over ice so that the taste is buffered to some extent?  All suggestions welcome - I've gotta find something that will work.

Congratulations Mandy!

There's a handful of  people in the world who suffer both infertility and then hyperemesis gravidarum during their pregnancy.  I have found it takes a delicate balance of tears, sense of humor, and blind hope to meander through the darkest days of it.  My friend Mandy has helped me find that balance and I finally get to thank her.

Congratulations Mandy on the arrival of your beautiful daughter and I hope the hormones regulate in the next few days - 'cause its chow time!  Thank you for being such a great support to me on the perilous road of surviving HG after infertility.