Dreams and False Alarms

Sparky and the Panda's

A wise British psychoanalyst once said "there is no baby without the mother". Since he was an analyst, we could imagine that he wasn't talking in a concrete sense, but that the baby exists because in some sense, the mother has created the baby in her mind.  It is starting to hit me that the babies I've had in my mind, those babies waiting for a body, aren't to be.

Sparky was real, he had a body for a precious few weeks.  The Pandas, what I started to call the last set of embryo's, had cell bodies for about 5 days, and then they were gone. But for me, these are my children. The only children who will ever share that precious mix of my husband and myself.  These children carried within their cells a mix of us that will never be expressed.  My blue eyes, his dimples, his congenital scrawniness, my impossible to fit feet, our big teeth and small jaws and on and on.  They also carried within them that indefinable, and indescribable hope of humanity--the hope that the love of our bodies, and the love of our minds will be expressed in flesh. These are the children that will never be, and yet they are so real to me I can see them running through the house, sleeping contentedly, making paper Mache models of the planets the night before the science fair.  I can see them growing up, and growing shy about their bodies, suffering the slings and arrows of first love, finding careers, finding love and becoming parents, and bringing home their own babies for us to love.  And yes, there will be children who will do this, and much much more. And we will love those children fiercely, aware of how close we came to not having any children to love at all, and yet, at this moment, it is my Sparky and the Panda's that I want.

When my husband and I were on the cusp of dating, I was trying to get him to kiss me and he said "I can't kiss you, because if I do, we'll have grandchildren, and I'm not ready for grandchildren yet."  In that moment a life flashed before my eyes, a life where we would make love, make children, and grow old together.  In some ways that vision hasn't changed, we do make love, we will make children, and we will grow old together, but this morning when I woke up, I just felt so so sad about the loss of...I suppose the loss of every piece of him going into our child.  Please don't reassure me that everything is going to be ok once I get 'the baby'.  I actually really know that. This stands alone; this loss is irreducible. 

So Sparky and Panda babies Mama loves you, and daddy loves you. And thank you for every precious second you were here with us.

Scabs

Saturday night my husband and I were both suffering from his having worked for 6 out of 6 of the last weekends, and wanted to go out for a nice dinner where we could look at each other, not just sit on the couch and look at the TV. We were seated next to a couple who looked normal from the back, but from the front, the guy had a really odd bulge in his jacket. Lo and behold, it was a baby in a sling, under his jacket. I was bracing, but I wasn't sure for what. It isn't always wrenching to see a baby or a pregnant woman, but sometimes it is, and those 'sometimes' don't always fit into neat categories. So we all ordered dinner, and when there were little sounds from inside the jacket, the dad would get up and walk outside and jiggle the baby for a little while and come back in. The mom was eating her dinner--clearly, this was the plan. The whole time the dad was soothing the baby, it was hidden from view. Finally the mom finished her dinner and it was the dad's turn to eat. The baby had gotten wiggly and mewley (not a crier at that point), and so the dad handed him to the mom. He was probably 2 months old. A little bigger than a new born, but not as fleshy as a 3 month old. I ate my dinner and watched as the mom snuggled the little baby, kissed his fuzzy little head and moved him around to keep him comfy. I really kept it together. Near the end of their meal, we interacted with them a little bit, complemented them on their baby (I must have said something, but mostly I remember my husband talking to them). As they were getting up to leave the father asked us if we had kids. Ugh. Clench. My husband smiled blandly and said "We're working on it." and got a little advice about taking your baby out in public. As soon as they left. Tears filled my eyes,and I tried not to cry. One of the ways that infertility manifests is that you no longer think about babies, or actively admire them, or even imagine your own or play the name game. It's like a scab on a wound that never quite heals. As long as the scab is in place there is no oxygen getting to the wound, and aside from tightness and tenderness, the wound is covered. But then there are times when the scab get's knocked off, and the wound opens up, and you remember what it is that hurts. So back to those tears. They just started falling of their own accord. It wasn't a noisy sob fest, but I was really crying. My husband took my hand and just held it while I cried. He said "We'll get you pregnant, by hook or by crook." Which was so sweet, and something we say to one another in the hard times. The 'crook' changes from time to time.

So what was I crying for? I was crying for so many things. For my little Sparky, who would have been around 26 weeks gestation by now, for all of times the scab stayed intact and I didn't feel how bad it felt to have empty arms, and for the fact that the dream of a baby seems so far off. The little fuzzy head, and the sweet little face feels like a mirage. I really miss the part of myself who could conjure up my dream baby, and feel their little head in the crook of my neck, the fuzzy baby head all ready for head kisses. Infertility is a thief. It not only robs you of your children, but being able to dream freely of your children, and that gets to be a hard spot in your soul. That little baby saturday night opened up the box of dreams, and I still feel a bit raw where those scabs let loose.

Health quest hits a snag

It turns out, I'm no Moxie, and Dr. Oz's green drink was, uh, icky? It looked waterier on the TV--at home it was a wierd bright green ground apple glass of green slugde.

 

Howver, I did eat a smart dog and arugula sandwich on a sprouted wheat bun, so I'm not doing too bad!  As soon as I'm totally blood free, I'll get back to swimming.

 

Onwards!

The state of my state

Well, that was...interesting.  Yeesh, for a gal who likes her anesthesia, I've been getting a lot lately. It seems that June was the only month since May that I didn't have any!

I called Dr Calm on Monday, I just couldn't shake the fear that something else was wrong. But she calmly listened to my fears and assured me that since my beta was 3, and unless I was filling a pad every 1/2 hour or so, that my cycle would kick in and the estrogen would stop the bleeding. Well, lo and behold, she was right!  Today the bleeding is darker and sparser, and my uterus is less sore, and I can imagine that people might want to use their vag.inas for something other than bleeding out of.

I'm getting excited about the IVF. There is absolutely no fear of the unknown--just of a negative beta. I've been through the whole megilla, and survived, so it's less daunting overall.

The specter of a negative beta has become more daunting. After this, we only have one more chance at a fully genetic child. Egg donation, while a really attractive option, is still a loss of this dream. The dream is plenty meaningful and valid, but at it's worst, it seduces me into thinking all of my wounds will be healed by having 'my own' baby. 

Yesterday, I sat across from my wonderful therapist, who gets more credit on this blog than in person and she pointed out to me that my belief that a fully genetic child won't suffer what I suffered with my parents is faulty.  Essentially, I was a fully genetic child,and because of the state my mother was in (raw grief over losing my 14 year old brother in car accident), and her abiding ambivalence about motherhood and marriage, she couldn't unambivalently welcome me to the world, and that is the wound I want to heal through having 'my own' child.  What I'm working on today is that wounds can heal, but that my mother couldn't claim me when i was inside,and she couldn't claim me when I was outside, and that is why the wound is so raw.  No matter how a child comes to me I can welcome them, without reservation, and that will be grand reckoning of my wound, without the magical thinking that wants me to believe that the only way out is a total do-over. 

So here I stand, waiting for the next cycle to pass, and the known quantity of the IVF to begin.

In the mean time I'm going to:

• Swim at least 3 times a week (once the bleeding fully stops, that is)
• Try Dr Oz's green drink
• Go on a short vacation to the coast with my husband
• Paint the doors in my hallway (only two are done, after 4 years in this house)
• Finish all my paperwork before I leave on Sunday
• Have a labor day BBQ, and finally have the ribs and coleslaw I missed on for the 4th of July

Not bad for a week from major blood loss...oy 

Hysteroscopy! Whoooooohooooooooooo!

All is good in the hood. Dr Calm cleared out the clots with forcepts during the hysteroscopy, no D&C, Uterus is ready for the next IVF! WHOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOO

The only  vexing part is taht they kept my husband waiting for about an hour, and the poor man was pretty worried. He needs a break!  I vow to not have any uterine emergencies, well ever if possbible, but at least for the next month.

More later.

One more D&C...

and if I'm lucky, and hysteroscopy.  No really, if I'm lucky she can clear out enough blood to look and see if there is a juicy clot she can pluck out. 

She thinks that the dark spot they saw last night at the ER is a bit of old tissue that is causing the bleeding. We chose the D&C because it increases our odds of getting to do a cycle in early Sept.

The plan is:

• Ibuprohpin every 6 hours to control teh bleeding
• 2 birth control pills between now and bedtime
• a 9:15am curtain call for my next performance as The girl who loved anesthesia too much

While I'm not thrilled at having anotehr D&C,it isn't as awful as the last one, but a long chalk.

See you on the flip...