Crazy going slowly am I ....

Ever hear that kid's song that goes "I am slowly going crazy....crazy going slowly am I..."? That is what I feel like of late.

HB and I did have a great talk the other night. Right after I posted the vent actually. As always, he listened to me as I had my meltdown ... and loved me. We had a great evening out together last night.

Then for some reason this morning, I decided to upset the apple cart again. I slipped back into this old behaviour that I used to engage in during my last 'relationship' (yes, those are air quotes but that guy didn't even deserve this space it would take to do proper double air quotes). I should preface this by saying that pretty much every guy I've ever gone out with, has cheated on me at some point. I can't seem to get past my own assumption that at some point, the same will be true in my marriage. And so I'm tarring and feathering HB with the same brush that others actually deserved. We had a discussion that didn't end well.

And then he got up and left the room. Before leaving the house, he stood at the bottom of the stairs, while I sat on them crying, and explained to me that my accusation and behaviour cut him very deeply...that he loved me...that he was married to me...and that he had never done anything to break my trust, so why was I treating him in the same manner that I had treated Arsehole (our name for my last mistake). Then he left the house, and I remained on those stairs bawling and sobbing.

What the hell is wrong with me???? I know in my heart that he is not having any kind of affair, and yet I'm behaving like he is. I know that I've had a lot going on with work, the infertility thing and all the other shit that we all live with, but holy cow...where is my mind? The one thing and person that I can count on, and I'm hell bent on destroying him and us.

I need to say here that he is in no way acting out of character or guilty at all. I know him very well, and making that call would be in character for him to do - remember, this is a very christian man that cares about people that I am married to.

Edited to add: we've spent the evening talking, and all is well. I've got my head back on straight ... too bad he's married to a psycho woman .... but love me he does.

Anyhow, I had to leave the house to go to work, and the first thing on my agenda was a meeting with the most senior staff person in my department. The intent was for me to end my placement but that didn't happen - she has indicated that she not only doesn't want to end it, she wants it to continue for the rest of the fiscal year and perhaps even beyond. To my great horror and embarrassment, I cried while in her office. I cannot believe that I did that.

Then I had to leave that meeting and race to the Fertility Clinic for my scheduled appointment there. Here's how that went:

- six months on clomid; one positive hpt that ended in miscarriage

- no other tests that can be done as I've had the tube test, laperscopy, etc.

- positives? my fsh is 5.2 so that's good, and I ovulate

- amazingly my blood pressure was, to quote the nurse, like that of a school girl

Bottom line? The doctor gave me some information on controlled ovarian hyperstimulation and IUI, but she doesn't think it's going to increase our chances. Nor does she recommend IVF as a course of action at my age. She thinks I should continue the clomid, only every second month, and see what happens.

I said, "oh...so it's the 'just relax' course of treatment is it?" to which she replied that we should absolutely NOT relax but that there really was no need to return to see her.

The only other time I have ever felt this out of personal control was after my brother died. At that time, I described it as having a huge ball of rubber bands in my gut, and if I tweaked even just one, the whole ball would explode and I'd never get it back under control.

I am slowly going crazy .... crazy going slowly am I.....

Anyone else ever lost their mind, marriage and job all due to infertility?

Melting Down

Actually I'm not in a good place at all. I feel like I'm headed toward a meltdown in a big way. Everything seems to be just sucking lately. I'm feeling such a lack of confidence and so rotten about myself that it's starting to seep into my marriage. Summers can be rough for us anyhow, since HB is a teacher and has the entire summer off and sadly, I don't have that same schedule. It's hard to get up to go to work every morning, especially to a work place that I'm totally resenting right now, while he's planning a schedule of beach and relaxation for his day.

I have always been a fairly insecure person. I've also always struggled with my weight. Consequently I've done the whole string of really bad relationships, like most people who are insecure and have low self esteem. When I finally grabbed control of myself and went on a major weight loss kick to lose 60 lbs, I felt great. Not only did I hit my goal, I maintained there for almost five years. It was during that time that I met HB, so he's actually known me as a smaller person. I couldn't believe how different he was from the other twits I had dated in the past, and even when I've done everything I can to sabotage this healthy relationship, he's assured me of how much he loves me and that he is not going anywhere.

Physical fitness is very important to HB. We couldn't be more different in that regard. I'd take the car to walk the dawgs if I thought I could get away with it. Growing up, he paddled, played baseball, biked and lifted weights. Mostly though he played hockey. He put himself through university playing hockey, and was actually drafted to a farm team at one time. You get the picture ~ he's a jock.

When I first met him, he wasn't doing much in that way. Knothead had slowly choked all of that out of him ~ he no longer worked out because it was easier to just stay home to shut her up. He did, however, turn to drugs and booze to shut her out when he couldn't shut her up. Consequently, when I met him, he was by then in recovery and doing the food love in with no exercise thing. When I got pregnant, we were both in heaven ~ license to eat! I packed on every one of those 60 lbs again and here I sit. He packed it on too, but he got off his arse and went back to working out.

The more fit and trim he becomes, the more insecure I become. And it's becoming a problem. I'm feeling like he doesn't want to be with me. I'm starting to play mind games, thinking that he might be flirting with having an affair. In fact, I became convinced that someone he works with has a crush on him and was almost out of my mind when I found out that she was going to the bar that his band was playing at this weekend. Didn't matter to me that he had invited all the teachers he works with at that school. When he wasn't home by 3 a.m., and wasn't answering his cell phone, I was convinced that he was at her place. There I sat, 1500 kms away from home, convincing myself that my husband, who loves me more than is almost possible, with whom I've entered into a sacramental marriage, whom I trust to the ends of the earth, was having an affair. I sat in the lounge of the university at which I was staying, obsessively dialing home and then his cell. Leaving a message and then calling home to see if he had picked up my message. Very very bad behaviour. Especially since I know he'd never have an affair or do anything to hurt me.

HB is one of those really nice guys that everyone loves to love. He's a flirt, but doesn't realize it. He loves me more than anything, and I know that. But right now I'm feeling so absolutely shitty about myself that I need him to show it to me and say it more often. I need him to be proud of me. I need him to support me, and love me, and put me first.

I came home last night from being away, and although we went down to the boat club together for a while, we really didn't talk. I feel disconnected from him. He came home and plugged a movie into the dvd player, so I came upstairs and checked my emails. We went to bed separately and when I woke up, he had moved to the couch ~ something that he does most nights but last night it really bothered me.

Today he called me at work to ask what time I was going to be home. I told him I was going to take in a weight watchers meeting, and then hit the grocery store, so it would be later than usual. He then asked me how much longer I planned to make a charitable donation to the gym and not use it, and how much money it was going to cost me to join Weight Watchers again.

The kids had come over for an overnight visit as they are leaving for the USA tomorrow with Knothead. When I walked in at about 7:30, he said "how was your day? Do you mind if I go to the gym tonight?"

I hate it when he does that! The kids come here to visit him, and he goes to the gym, leaving me here with them. I've worked all day. I'm tired. I have to go out of town again tomorrow. I'm feeling so horrendously fat and such a failure because I can't pop a baby out, or get promoted at work, or even find a permanent assignment. And to top it all off, I'm always the wicked witch when he leaves me with the kids and I'm tired like this, because I won't let them have the ten neighbourhood kids in that they always seem to be dragging into the house.

It's time for us to have a talk, but I really don't know what I'll say. I'm so close to meltdown that I know I'll be coherent for about three minutes before I either dissolve in tears or explode in anger ~ neither of which are my most effective communication tools. I just can't keep going like this. I'm resenting everything, and when I'm not resenting it, I'm thinking that he's ashamed of me and having an affair. Great way to have a healthy marriage.

Sarah and Abraham

I flew out of the province last Wednesday to attend a national conference, and just got back today. Even though I knew that if we had failed this cycle, I may need to begin the next round of clomid up there, I neglected to fill the prescription before leaving the province.

Naturally, I wake up Saturday morning and realize we have yet another failed attempt on our hands.

And then I panic. I'm 1600 kms away from home, and I haven't filled the prescription. Between calls to HB and the drugstore, I determine that I may be able to get it filled if I can find a pharmacy where I am, have them call my pharmacy at home, and then determine whether it's possible, but there was something with inter-provincial laws that the pharmacist at home wasn't sure about.

I went back into the conference, which was spiritual in nature. The next "event" was Mass. And what was the reading? The story of Sarah and Abraham, and how the Lord promised her a son, and she laughed. She doubted and laughed because she was old and barren.

And yet she had a son within that same year.

Now I know that the scriptures are not meant to be taken literally, but it did cause me to really reflect on what I'm doing here. That reflection led me to a place of peace with the decision I made the next morning. I decided not to try to fill the prescription for this month, and just see what happens. I've decided that I'm going to focus on remaining healthy, losing more weight, getting fit, and that I'm going to try to accept that what will be, will be. I'm not saying that I'm never going to fill the prescription again ~ but I am going to try to stop this obsessive behaviour. Having a baby is becoming a goal for me again ~ a destination. It's just not feeling right the last while.

I guess if we're meant to be like Sarah and Abraham, we'll find out soon enough.

On my mind

Things that are on my mind today:

• I've not been able to get face time with the senior staff person I need to meet with in order to end this current assignment
• In the span of 24 hours, I've been offered three different new assignments at work ~ none of which are upward moves but one of which is at least of interest...kind of...sort of
• Ironically, the one that interests me is being vacated by the person who got the job I was most interested in being interviewed for but was not shortlisted for due to my educational_disability
• I'm still totally confused about my future and feeling devalued at work
• Yet more irony ... I'm the chair of the employee recognition program at work
• I fly out tomorrow for a conference
• I'm feeling a bit insecure about leaving HB home alone this weekend for some reason ~ his band is playing at a local bar two nights and I've never missed any of his gigs ~ who will protect him from the bar tarts and harlets?
• If we didn't conceive this month, I will start my period while away on the trip
• I really really hope we conceived this month
• The trip is taking me within spitting distance of the US border so a little cross border shopping trip will be in order
• Knothead has managed to insert herself into our lives and complicate my trip to the airport tomorrow beyond description ~ the woman has incredible skill at commandeering and complicating
• HB finishes teaching tomorrow and has the summer off
• I have exactly eight more working days before I have a month off ~ I can't wait.

Colours of the Wind

I've been really thinking about my friend RA and her daughter, E., today for some reason. In September 1998, RA took her 8 year old daughter, E., to the doctor to see why the flu bug E. had been fighting would not leave. Turned out that it wasn't the flu. It was leukemia.

E. was admitted to the local children's hospital and began a very aggressive course of treatment. In addition to being a good friend, RA was also a coworker of mine. The building in which we work quickly rallied and organized a food train for the family. Besides E., RA and her husband had two other young kids - E. was their oldest. Ironically, all three of their kids were conceived with assistance from fertility treatments.

This food train was very cool. Twice a week, we would deliver prepared meals to their home. Everyone in the building signed up for a specific day and took responsibility for preparing the family's supper meal, and placing it in disposable containers. I was responsible for delivering 3 days worth of meals on Wednesday, and another friend dropped the other 4 days worth off on Friday. We did this for the full month that E. was in hospital.

They got her to the point where a bone marrow transplant was an option, and her sister, B., was a perfect match. I still remember RA laughing about the special night they got to bring E. home for supper before they were going to be headed to Toronto for the transplant. They were sitting around, eating cake to celebrate, when E. got the most mischevious grin on her face and said to B., "you know...they're going to take the bones out of you and put them in me!" RA said it was killing her to discipline E. for scaring the wits out of her sister, because she was just so overjoyed to see E. having some fun.

Sadly, E. never made it to the transplant. She was readmitted, contracted pneumonia, and died shortly after this dinner of cake and teasing. The whole journey from diagnosis to death took 25 days.

I called RA ~ hardest call I've ever had to make. What do you say to a mother who has just lost her daughter? The daughter that RA, a severe diabetic, had put her life in jeopardy to conceive through fertility treatments, and against all medical advice? I had no words. I pushed the numbers on the phone, it rang, and she answered. We cried. I make the standard offer of help that we all make in these situation ~ you know the one ~ "if there's anything at all that I can do RA, don't hesitate to ask."

She didn't skip a beat. She asked me to sing at the funeral service. I was petrified and honoured at all at once.

I don't read music, so I have to learn everything by ear. Her brother dropped me off a tape with the two songs they wanted, and I spent the next two days driving around in my car, learning these songs. The first was the Circle of Life and the second Colors_of_the_Wind. I learned after the service that these were the two songs E. had playing continuously in her hospital room. I'm glad I didn't know that before the service or I never would have made it.

I stood at the front of the church, watching RA, a child tucked under each arm, rocking and singing right along with me. Proudly honouring the memory of a life cut far too short.

And I sang.

Then I sat and cried for my friend.

She now lives many many miles away in another country, but my heart is singing out to her today ~ through the colours of the wind.

Yuck Yucks

It's day 23 of this cycle and no ovulation line has appeared yet on this chart although I'm hopeful that my temp will stay up tomorrow morning. For some reason I get comfort in just knowing that I've ovulated ~ even if nothing has come of it.

I made an appointment with the clinic for the 30th of this month. Everyone else seems to have names for their doctors. I think I need to call mine Dr. DoNothing. She's a lovely person, but the more I read and educate myself at Google U, the more I realize that sending a 42 year old woman home with a prescription for ten months of clomid is not actually treating infertility.

I'm not sure what I hope to achieve from the appointment, but I feel better for having made one. We have basically decided that we will not trying anything beyond this, although I've been doing a bit of research on IUI as a next option. Now that I know I'm ovulating, albeit with the assistance of medication, this may be an option. How handy is that the clinic that performs this process is located in the mall right next door to my office building? I can skip upstairs, have my IUI, then take the escalator downstairs for Thai food. Does life get any better than this???

Not much else going on. Home writing today and getting lots done for a change. Had a good appointment this morning with someone who just completed the graduate program I'm applying for, and got all the scoop on it from her. Certainly sounds challenging, but achievable. The best part was that she told me how our employer paid for her entire program and gave her a new computer for home plus every Friday off in order to study. Gives me a good place to start negotiating from when we begin to discuss the support they mentioned to me a few weeks ago.

In an ideal world, I'd get pregnant, accepted into the program, pop a healthy kid out at full term, and happily complete the program while on maternity leave.

Yeah right. I crack me up!!!

Pretty is as pretty does

When I first met HB, I was a size 10 ... cute as a button. HB had been separated from Knothead for quite a while, but had not dated one single soul. Now what's important to know about Knothead is that she is incredibly self-centered, materialistic and really believes that she is superior to the rest of the world. No one measures up to the standards of either her or her family.

It took him almost a full year to tell me this story ~ but I'm awfully glad we have the kind of relationship that can withstand these stories now if only because it makes what happened today so much sweeter. When he told Knothead that he had met someone, she immediately responded with "well, she can't be better than me", a typical response for her. HB (who really should be a foreign diplomat someday I think) gave the perfect response when he said "she's different than you". She pressed on ... wanting to know what the differences were...and thus began HB's descent into the land of "I have something I will hold over your head forever".

His response?

"Well, she' s a little chubby."

Chubby. At size 10.

Trust me ~ we've had some good chuckles over that especially since I have put on so much weight since he made that comment. A serious amount of weight - like 50 lbs. I gave him chubby alright!

A few months after we had lost the baby, she came to the house to pick the kids up one Sunday. HB told me later that on the walk out to the car, she had asked him if I was pregnant again because my stomach was still so big. She sucks every ounce of Christianity out of me some days.

We've been really struggling to figure out why both Frodo and Mini-Me are getting so thick and such bellies on them. We really watch what comes into the house here and outside of Oreo cookies, there's no junk here. They eat a lot of fresh fruit and yogurt, and although they both eat healthy portions at meals, they also play hockey, roller blade, paddle ~ constantly active in some form of sport. HB is in great shape and doesn't have to watch what he eats. Jerk. Now I don't actually see Knothead very often and truthfully, after a few years now, have moved beyond that not-so-subtle checking her out thing that most of us women tend to do with our partner's ex. I do know that she has struggled with her weight in the past, but my impression was that she had a handle on it now.

Today I had to stop by her place to pick up Frodo's backpack and homework. I pulled in and she was in the driveway vacuuming her car out...wearing sweats and a tshirt. She stood up and oh. my. gawd.

I get where the thickness is coming from now. She is a solid woman! And it does look as if she's put on weight in the last while.

Am I that shallow that I took got great joy in that discovery?

You betchya.

I'll give ya chubby. Made my day it did. Might even make my week.

Cubicle Living

Part of the changes that I've been experiencing at work resulted in me moving from an office to a cubicle. As I sit and type this, I'm being forced to listen to a group of coworkers who are standing just outside of my cubicle, talking about the weekend labour and delivery of a friend. Which of course has resulted in every one of the women involved in the conversation to discuss THEIR labour stories, and all the baby talk. How beautiful their babies were. Where they were born. How they love the new maternity hospital. How quickly women are sent home from the hospital now compared to a few years ago.

I'm really only blogging about it now in the hope that the clicking of my keyboard keys will drown out their conversation. It's not working!

Turning to things that are amusing me these days. One is the little traffic light that the charting site I use has on your charting home page. HB and I have had some fun with that ~ is this baby making activity or just straight up monkey loving is determined by the colour of the light on the traffic light. It's been a big honking red with the helpful words "PROBABLY NOT FERTILE" underneath for several days now. I expect that it might turn green this weekend when Frodo and Mini-Me are around. How do those people that have like fifteen kids manage to sneak in the required activity? Inquiring minds want to know!

Phew. The conversation has stopped. Back to work.

Diamonds, rubies and rubber

The prospect of a long weekend stretches ahead, much like the pages of a blank book, waiting to be written upon. I'm off today, enjoying my newly minted outlook on work and life. I'm sitting here, drinking coffee, perusing blogs and making a list of stuff I want to write on the pages of my weekend.

This is the first weekend in ages that we have no children. According to the "schedule" (yes, those were air quotes), we are supposed to have the boys every second weekend. That rarely happens, and we generally see the kids at least once during the weekends that are technically not ours. The joys of living close to each other, and I mean that sincerely. We are 10 minutes door to door, and so can be there almost instantenously if something comes up. The kids love being with their dad, and here, so things often "come up" (yes, air quotes again...)

This step-parenting thing is a wild and wonderful journey. I have often felt like an outsider, trying to fit into this family, and then every once in a while something happens that lets me know I'm inching closer to the inner circle. Around these parts, the current rage with the young'uns are these types of rubber bracelets. Last weekend, Frodo and I dragged around many many stores looking to find one or ten. When they arrived on Wednesday evening for their night with us, I noticed that HB, Frodo and Mini-Me each had a blue bracelet on which said "Family ... expect the unexpected". Frodo apparently managed to secure three of them at school that day, and was very excited about the whole deal.

As we sat watching television that evening, Frodo took his bracelet off, and slipped it on my left wrist. He told me that he was going to get a fourth, and then everyone in his family would have the same bracelet.

Wow.

I inched closer that evening, and believe you me, I wore that bracelet to work the next day with a pride that I've never ever experienced before. That bracelet is more precious to me than any gold or diamond one could ever be.