Alone.

That's how I'm feeling lately.  It's like nobody understands - nobody.  Granted I spent surgery day through Wednesday on the couch, pretty much by myself, which can lead to isolation and loneliness.  However, even after time with friends and family . . . I'm alone.  Nobody fucking understands. If they do, they certainly don't act like it.  If they know, they sure as hell aren't reaching out.  I feel like I have to do all of the calling, emailing, messaging, reaching out.  Sometimes I simply need someone that understands this battle to get in touch with me and say, "Hey.  It sucks. I'm here for you." and then I feel like I can actually talk to them about this island I feel to be stuck upon day after day, month after month, year after year.  Nobody can fix it.  I know that.  But, geez, I'm feeling so isolated.  Each day that goes by is another pregnancy announcement, another birthday for a child that was born after I lost my three babies, and other reminders that I'm broken and barren.

* People that haven't been through this - be quiet.  You truly have no opinion to me.  I know you mean well, but STFU.  What you have to say usually doesn't help but makes me feel as bad if not worse.
* People that understand what it's like - help me out here.  Don't hole up also and let me figure out where you are by some random happening.  Please don't make me feel so alone by not reaching out.  If you're in the trenches it sucks for you, too.  Can't we help each other out here?
* People who have been through all of this and now have a child - don't act like you have elevated above my status and I can't be your friend because it's too hard.  Yeah, you have a child/children, but you know what it's like.  You aren't above it and I know I am certainly not.

Now that I write all of that, I KNOW there are going to be some people that either think or write to me saying, "I'm sorry. I hope I haven't done that." or "I didn't mean to." or "You're just so bitter.  I miss the real you." or "I don't know how to help you anymore." or other comments and advice.  This isn't about anyone in particular.  It is about ME.  It is about the fact that I'm going on cycle 40, and the family that I have dreamed about for years - the family that we've been wanting for years - isn't happening.

I'm only in this life for true friends now.  I'm too old for anything else.  This is a serious battle here, and I need some serious people in it with me.  Put up or shut up.  Be with me or get the hell out of my way.

Does that sound selfish?  Probably.  Do I expect to be the #1 priority to anyone else but me?  No.  Do I care?  No.  I'm the person who has given up more than my share of time, effort, love, money, care, and life to everyone else.  It is time that DH & I get what we want and deserve.  Do I know that has/may cost me more friendships?  Sure.  Sorry, but if you aren't willing or able to stand beside or behind me in battle, be gone with your bad self.  I may love ya, but go away.

Hold on to my dreams?  Believe that it can happen?  Keep trying?  Keep fighting?  Give up?  Lay down?  Quit?  Surrender?  Hell if I know.  I'm tired, and I just don't know how much longer this can go on.  Really - how long do you fight until it's time to lay down your weapon and surrender?  I'm just about out of energy, emotion, money, and time.  I don't plan to surrender until I am told I have no other choice, but still . . .

Brought to you by the bitter bitch who is feeling better physically but still dying inside.

For the Record

Our first daughter will NOT be named Cleopatra Peristalsis. 

Mr. Rambler has a warped sense of humor.  He is truly a sick, sick man who takes advantage of women under the power of anesthesia.  However, he makes me laugh.

Megan of MegaWhat gave me the Stiletto award, and I love it!  I mean, doesn't every woman need a good pair of shoes?!  Seems like Megan and I continue to duplicate one another's loss history with pregnancy loss, losing our grandmothers to cancer, losing our beloved pets and hopefully NOTHING ELSE.  She's become a friend that I value and treasure.  I just wish she'd invite me to join her for beers on the boat.  :)

Now, about the Stiletto… some words that describe it…
Classy – Strong - Exotic – Demure – Extreme – Ultra – Sexy – Bold – Funky

“Walking in extremely high heels is not something that the average woman (or man) will need to do in their everyday life. However, there are times when this skill may be required.” I want to salute the women who balance life, family, and relationships with style and class! Those women who share their experiences with us…who encourage us, inspire us, teach us, make us laugh and basically keep us going! You know who they are! While you read this blog, your family is looking at you wondering what the heck you are laughing about so hard…or why the tissue is necessary for internet browsing. It’s the one that the kids are excited about because a new post means a new craft project or family outing. The one that inspires you to be a better mom, friend, person in general. The one that reminds you that we are all “in this life together” and you’re not the only one going through the hard stuff. The one that you secretly wish your blog was like…

“Heels this high are not meant for clubbing or walking long distances in. They are mainly used for getting from the living room to the bedroom, from the car to the restaurant, or for a short stroll along the catwalk.”

If you’ve received this award, someone out there thinks you deserve it! Be proud! Display the badge with honor! You earned it…after all it means that you brought something special to at least one other person, and really, isn’t that what life’s all about?

THE RULES!
This blog award is meant to be shared, to be given out, to be bestowed upon any and ALL women who exemplify what the stiletto represents. If you’ve received this award, here’s what you do:

1. Display your Stiletto Badge of Honor on your sidebar! Wear it with pride…

2. BRAG ABOUT IT! write a post about your award. Include the link to this page so everyone will understand what it’s all about!

3. SAY THANKS!

4. SHARE THE LOVE!

5. DO WHAT YOU DO! Keep inspiring and encouraging and sharing your life! We love it and we thank you!



I;m passing this award on to some of my fellow IFers who went from strangers to online friends to IRL friends to my own personal cheerleaders.  They have given me so much love and support, and I'll stop there before I cry.  xox

Katie
Maria
NoVa
Sarah
WriterChic

Go get your Stilettos ladies, and let's meet for drinks!  NoVa's driving.  :)

Rambling with Narcotics

Narcotics for me = no sleep.  I finally got up at 6am (after my whole 3 hours of sleep).  It's DH's birthday today, so I let him sleep while I got some stuff done, then my mom came over, we ate lunch, we milled around the house, and now I'm ready to croak.

I've had the chills but no fever.  Mom said it's anesthesia related.  Weird.  My throat is still sore and dry, and I'd feel better if I hacked up a bronchial tube or something.  My stomach is fairly bloated and swollen.  I have a vertical strip about 4" long on the right of my navel that is so sore!  I'm currently on ice packs (my back & stomach) and took another pain pill to help me not sleep.  These narcotics are giving me the munchies too.  Yesterday I got home, ate lunch, slept for two hours, ate ice cream, slept for an hour, ate jello, rested for a while, ate a piece of chicken, then a chicken salad sandwich, and some chips.  Today I'm doing better (less drugs) but it's killing me to not eat the cookies I had delivered for DH's birthday!  :)

I'm rambling . . . again.  I'm bored and not feeling great, but I'm feeling a whole lot better than I did after my other surgeries.  Guess I need to ask the birthday boy what he's making me for dinner.  Honey!!!

Welcome to the Astrodome

I decided a few minutes ago that it would be better to say,

"Welcome to Cowboys Stadium with a lovely,
 enclosed, diamond-encrusted rooftop!"

Doesn't that sound better?  Obviously my surgery is complete.  (I could say done since I kinda had a fork stuck in me but naaahhhh.)  All went well as far as I've been told.  My throat is KILLING ME from the intubation, and I'm a bit sore, but that is all.  I have a band-aid across my belly button and no other incisions!  :)  Dr. T removed the scar tissue, found & removed a polyp, found my tubes to be clear & open, and I think he said some endo was removed.  He told DH that there was no way an embryo could've implanted in there.

So, I'm home, resting, and have a crazy narcotic-driven hunger right now.  Think I'll take some meds and try to rest.  More details about stuff later.  Thanks for the thoughts, prayers, messages, calls, cards & other wonderful love.  G'night!

Twelve Hours from Now

Dr. T says that I'll have a uterus as nicely shaped and shiny as the Astrodome.  Don't know why he didn't say Cowboys Stadium . . . we'll have to talk about that in the morning.

I'm chugging water for now and plan to take my Cytotec (yuck) just before I'm NPO at midnight.  Check in at the hospital is 7:45 in the morning, and I hope to be home by 2:00ish.  I swear this bum ute of mine better work, and I'm serious about getting some diamonds encrusted in the damn thing.  Don't even think I'm kidding.

I'll try to produce some drug-induced ramblings in the next couple of days just so you can join in on the fun.

7 minutes until I begin cramping like a mother, withering from dehydration, and starving to death.  Shit, make that six.

BOHICA

Bend Over Here It Comes Again.

Just got off the phone with the surgery center.  My portion of the surgery (after insurance) will be $1660.21.  May I simply write you a check?

Why is it more expensive to NOT have a baby than it is to have one?????  Ugh.

Change

"We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” ~ Maya Angelou

How true is that statement?  When I think back through the past three years, six years, ten years, twenty years . . . it is truly amazing all of the changes I've been through and seen.  Many say that change is not good, but sometimes it is.  Change is inevitable - there is nothing we can do about that.  It's simply called LIFE.  How we approach it is what we can control.  Our choice of attitude and perspective on any given situation can often determine how we weather any storm or appreciate any sunny day.

As I move into this week with a bit of apprehension and fear about my surgery, I am choosing to remain positive and hopeful that this WILL BE the change that helps us to reaching our dream of having a family.  I am choosing not to worry about it all, and that will be difficult.  All I can do it hope and pray that when our dream is fulfilled that I can look back through the really tough and devastating times, and say, "Aaahhh . . . okay.  I get it now."

Hope.  That crazy, crazy thing called hope.

Dolphins are Cuter Than Balloons

DH and I met with Dr. Terrific today to go over our surgery plan.  My laparascopic hysteroscopy with resection (blahblahblah) is scheduled for the 17th, which will totally screw up DH's birthday on the 18th.  Oops.

Dr. T said this should be a fairly routine surgery, but without party pics from Dr. Super and having not seen my uterus in two years, we'll have to see what's really going on in there.  However, Dr. T did mention that after all I've been through, it shouldn't be too bad.  It could be basic, or could be a bit complicated.

A couple of weeks ago, Dr. T called me while I was enjoying a mani/pedi.  He (in so many words) explained to me that he "was up at 4am because of a damn chihuahua barking" and that he "went nekkid into the backyard to shut up that damn dog" and since he "was then already awake", he went into his office and drew pictures of my uterus since he couldn't go back to sleep.  See what I have to deal with?  ;)  He seriously did say all of that, but you have to know him to understand how damn funny it all is.  Anyway . . . he was proud of himself that he remembered to bring his 4am uterine sketches of my bum ute to our appointment today.

Since Dr. Terrificly Crazy won't know until he gets all up in my hooha, we'll have witnessess an assistant surgeon in on the deal.  There will also be a casual observer rep from the medical company who produces some of the new equipment used during my party.  Apparently this "thing" helps with fluid management of my parts during surgery so I don't blow up like a fire hydrant with the cap off.  Okay, not really like that, but I know I'm filled to the gills with saline while Dr. T flies around up in there with his magic scissors and pokers and cameras and poles.  Already thankful for being completely sedated, I won't notice this nosy rep from the company who developed the Dolphin system will be a party wallflower.  He/She/It will make sure the equipment works properly and probably be amazed by the jacked-up state of my bum ute (not to mention the total fuckup shave job I'm given after I'm under, but before this type of surgery).  Hope someone at least brings me a damn hostess gift.

Dr. Terrific is against the balloon, which I did question since I don't want scar tissue to develop again. He said that balloons haven't been used in over a decade, but if we need it, I'll wake up with a tube strapped to my leg. Oh joy.

So . . .

 

really =

For the record, I think the flying mammal fishies are much cuter.

Anyway, I hope to get back into the blogging world now that things are settling down in our world.  I told you that things have been rough, so here is a recap of the past two months.  I'm really too tired to retype it or c&p it, so click the link if you wanna be in the know.  Leave me comments if you will to prove that someone is still reading all of this jibberish.