November 30, 2011

Today we are 14 weeks. We are so excited to meet our baby in May! We'll see the baby again on January 4th. Hopefully the baby will cooperate and we can confirm or deny our hunches on if our baby is a boy or girl!

The cat's out of the bag

Baby Vardiman is due May 30, 2012!
We couldn't be happier, more excited and a little nervous=)

October 1

Life certainly has changed in the last few days.
I received a message from my dad on Thursday the 29th that my step-brother passed away. I'm having a lot of conflicting emotions about it. I am sad for his early departure from his life because he and his mom were so close and she did so much to try to help him. I'm relieved because he has been tormented and in such pain for years that now he doesn't have to hurt anymore. He was an addict for most of his life. He went to rehab for alcoholism in 2004. He was alcohol free for 3 years. He went to AA and volunteered with Big Brothers/Big Sisters as part of his recovery. One night after a softball game, he grabbed a beer and started drinking.
My stomach fell to my feet. I had no idea what to do. Do I say something? Do I not? He's a grown man, he can make his own decisions. It's not my place to monitor him. I called a good friend for advice. She suggested I call his mom and ask what she would like me to do. I did, she was touched that I was concerned, and had known that he had started having a beer now and again. She asked me to not say anything to him in front of anyone. I did what she asked and went about my business. The more we played softball together, the more he drank. He was a REALLY happy guy after 3 or 4. More than 5 and he was bulligerent to the umpires. The team just thought he liked to have fun. It made me very uncomfortable. I did not say anything to anyone. I thought I was being respectful of his privacy.
The following softball season he was having back trouble and couldn't play with us as much. He was being treated by a doctor, having regular visits, taking specific medicine, and still drinking.
This May he totalled his motorcycle while driving under the influence of some sort of mood altering substance. He blamed the person in the car in front of him. He blamed his mom. He blamed the nurse. He blamed everyone. He was not responsible at all. He was lucky to have been alive after plowing into a car at 65 with no helmet, and only a t-shirt and shorts on.
After the hospital found out he didn't have insurance because he had quit his job, they stitched him up, gave him some pain pills and sent him home. He had a broken hand, several broken ribs, and chunks of flesh missing from where he hit the pavement. But when he was at the hospital, he was so hopped up on whatever he was on, he couldn't feel that anything was wrong with it. And then when he got home, he was taking quadruple the dose the hospital prescribed, so still, he couldn't feel anything.
My step mom went to his house several times a day to check on him. Help change his bandages. Made sure he was eating and had food in the house. My dad had a maid service go to his house to clean up because he couldn't do much. She took his car to get 'serviced' so he wouldn't have a way to go anywhere to get himself into more trouble.
He called and asked her about the car, she said he could have it back when he stopped taking so many pills. That worked for a couple of days, then he had a friend take him to where the car was (at her house) and he told her she was terrible and his 'shitty life' was her fault, if she had loved him enough, he wouldn't be hurting so much.
She kept going to visit him. He then decided to get sober. So, he took a bunch of his pain meds and was semi-comatose for weeks. It was awful.
My step-mom was torn up. She didn't know what to do. She had been trying for weeks to get him in to a rehab program. She set up to finance his entire recovery herself. He wouldn't go. He said she should just leave him somewhere.
Earlier last week, someone beat him up. Severely beat his body and broke several of his windows. My step-mom called her ex-husband for help. She hadn't spoken to him in years. He was set to go to Dallas. They were going to go together to get their son committed to an institution against his will if necessary. They agreed that they would do whatever it took to keep him alive. Then on Thursday he was dead.
I have no idea what happened. I don't know the details. I am assuming that he committed suicide in some way. I don't know that for sure.
My heart goes out to my step-mom. She and I have never been close. No one deserves to be treated that way. We'll be travelling to Dallas for a memorial service in a couple of weeks.
Please send a prayer for those you know that have struggled with addiction. It's a very cruel and sneaky mistress.

9.12.11

Today is day 4 of waiting until the 14th. Ugh. How can time go so slow!?
I get blood work done on the 14th to monitor my estrogen and progesterone levels. I finally finished up with the injections on the 5th. We did the IUI (Inter-uterine Insemination) on Wednesday. Now, we're in waiting mode. I thought the earlier process was tough. Man. Was I wrong.
I started taking progesterone on Saturday night. I'm hoping that my levels are good on Wednesday. We're throwing every trick in the book at my uterus. I've lost weight, gone caffeine, sugar, dairy, carbonation, and gluten-free. I'm taking the best prenatals on the market. I'm drinking a lot of water. Not pushing myself too hard. Getting a lot of rest. Eating like a crazy person, simply because I'm hungry a lot.
The other night I woke up at 4:50 am hungry as a bear! What? Geez. I've been waking up at some point in the night to get up and go pee. I'm careful not to drink too much before bed because I don't want to wake up, but the last 4 nights, sure enough, I'm up.
I try not to psych myself up to far. We still have a long way to go. I still get to wait until the 21st to find out if we really are pregnant.
I have a feeling we are. I keep having dreams about figuring out how to fly by myself to Dallas with 2 babies. Or that I get bonuses from my job and can't wait to put it in the kids' college fund.
It's crazy. My friends who are pregnant have been sharing their "when I found out I was pregnant" stories. Some didn't have a clue until they had missed their period. Some knew when they smelled something and it made them sick. One knew right away. I keep looking for signs. So far, all I can really say for sure is that I'm hungry. Not like, oh I could eat hungry, but the kind of hungry that says, IF I DON'T GET FOOD NOW SOMEONE IS GOING TO GET HURT, kind of hungry. And I can feel something going on "in there". Yeah, I know most women don't even notice, but I'm serious. I feel little twinges of pressure. Not pain exactly, more like a slight ache once in a while. A couple of times it's taken my breath away. But the last few days have been relatively pain free, which is nice. I can feel that something has changed. My sleep pattern is weird. I could actually take a nap right now. Actually, that sounds like a good idea...
I feel so blessed and happy right now. Even though the wait is pretty brutal, I'm so excited to find out the result on the 21st.
I have decided that depending on the result I'm going to go 'radio-silent'. We want to tell our parents and families first. And we want to wait the appropriate amount of time to make sure all is well before blabbing to everyone.
If the result is not what we are expecting, I may be 'radio-silent' out of grief.
Thank you for your support, prayers, thoughts, messages and love. I truly do appreciate them all and am happy to have you all as part of my life. I look forward to being able to share happy news with you soon!

Keeping on Keeping on

Today marks day 9 of injections of Follistim. It seems like it's become our evening routine. Relax. Pull out the vial 45 minutes before injection time. Wait for 40 minutes. Pull out syringe. Pull out medicine into syringe. Change needles. Expose the injection site. Alcohol pad to clean. Grip the counter in preparation. Tony puts the needle in as gently as possible while I'm breathing slowly, he dispatches the syringe and reverses his process. Then a bandaid and we go about our evening for an hour or so. By 10 I'm so tired I can barely stand up. I go to bed and sleep until 8 or 9 the next morning.
I go about my day. Do as much as I can, knowing that around 5, I'll hit a wall and lay down for an hour or so before Tony gets home and I start dinner.
Then there's the bloodwork. Which isn't bad. It's frustrating and repetative, but not too painful.
Sonograms to monitor my uterus and the follicle production. Thankfully, even though I have polycystic ovaries, only 3 follicles are growing! So, that means the injections are working! We had hoped they would grow faster, so we could have done the insemination last week. However, they're growing slower than anticipated. I go back this Tuesday the 6th to see how they're doing.
I'm so happy that after 4 years, something is going well, something is different. Maybe this really is our time. Maybe we really will get to be blessed with a miracle before this time next year.

Late August 2011

I went to visit with Dr. Arnold on Monday the 22nd. I had an ultra sound to determine whether or not my uterus is ready to carry a baby. We determined that it is ready and all is well. The ultra sound tech was shocked by how many cysts there are on my ovaries. They look like a honeycomb on the screen. Which for me, is normal.
I started on 150 mg of Clomid on Monday night. I take that until Friday (26th) night. Friday morning I go in for blood work to determine my estrogen levels and make sure that all of my counts are where they should be to begin a pregnancy.
After those results are in, the nurse will call to let me know how much and how often I will be taking intramuscular injections of Follistim to stimulate the follicle development. I will go see the doctor again on either the 29th or 30th to determine how my follicles are progressing and monitor how many are large enough to become eggs.
I am absolutely positively over the moon happy that this is finally happening. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure that I'm not dreaming. This is real. This is happening. In less than a year I will be a mom. No more struggling. No more worrying. No more "why not me?". Because I will have the most beautiful, precious gift possible, a healthy baby.

The long road

July of 2001 I had a cyst the size of a football removed from my right ovary. That surgery was one of the scariest things to ever happen in my life. Going in, I was told that depending on how severe the cyst was, I could wake up without an ovary and possibly without a uterus. I had barely wrapped my head around that idea when I was scheduled for surgery. The moment I woke up was filled with relief and angst. Thankfully I was able to keep my uterus and both of my ovaries.
Following the surgery, I saw a nutritionist, walked to and from campus from our house over a mile away, stopped drinking beer, and went sugar-free. I lost 35 lbs and felt great!
I graduated college. Worked 2 jobs. Found an actual 'real' job, that lasted 88 days. I quit on day 75 and gave a few days notice.
With no back-up plan, I moved to Texas for 6 weeks.
A little over a year later I met my amazing husband. I had continued to lose weight. I had lost a total of 70 lbs.
Over time, staying sugar-free became less and less important. My new love and I would go out to dinner, drink wine, have dessert. We had a great time going out to eat. It was more than eating for us, it was bonding, it solidified our relationship. Over time, I began drinking beer again. And silently and stealthily, the weight came back. 5, 10 lbs over a year, then when I turned 27 something happened. Almost over night, I gained 35 lbs. Which wasn't bad, but I had already gained 20 lbs. So, there I was almost 60 lbs heavier. I wasn't really bothered by it. I had lost the weight before, I could do it again. No big deal. Over the next year or so I gained another 45 lbs. Then, we got married.
Almost immediately I went to the gynocologist, requested clomid and metformin. The doctor prescribed both after reviewing my chart and talking to me about family planning.
I tried that for 3 cycles. To no avail.
After that I decided I should start looking for a specialist close to our home. I did so. I began seeing him shortly after my 28th birthday.
He instructed me to lose 50 lbs and quit smoking. It took me a year and a half, and a fist full of toxic crazy drugs to get me to lose the weight. Not to mention the alienation I created for myself. I was so focused on getting my family started that I dug huge crevaces between myself and friends, as well as family. No one understood. Not even my husband, how deep my desire to begin our family together. No one could relate to me. No one could give me solace.
Then, the doctor let us try for 2 cycles on Femara followed with an HcG shot. Following the last negative pregnancy test, his words to me were, "You're only option is now IVF. I can go no further with you. IVF will cost you roughly $15,000.00. Come back when you are ready to begin."
I went home in a state of shock. All of my hard work had been for nothing.
I got no prize. I felt gipped. Slighted. The more my husband tried to encourage me, the less I cared. I slipped into a very deep depression. 6 months later I got mad about it. I found a new specialist. He was very kind, understanding, and ready to proceed. We did some more testing. More evaluation and more medications.
The month we were going to start our family journey, Tony got offered a job in San Diego. We had been working toward moving there for over a year. It was everything we wanted, and more. So, we moved.
With a referral in hand, I went to a clinic in North County. After meeting with the doctor and nursing staff, I was angry. I was treated like a number. As though I had no idea what I was talking about and what I wanted to do with my body was of no concern to them.
I spoke with my general practitioner. He referred me to his long time friend who is a standard OB/GYN. I worked with him for over a year. We did clomid for 10 cycles along with 2 IUIs (inter-uterine inseminations). Neither worked.
My OB suggested a specialist in the same building. We met with her. We were very impressed with her results, her reviews, the reviews of her staff and with her approach to our specific situation. When we met in May she suggested we wait until June. When we went in in June, I hadn't had all of my blood work done, so she wanted to go ahead in July. Well, the office would be closed when my cycle was supposed to come. So, that pushed us back to August. So, now, here we are. It's August.
4 of my very close girl friends are having 6 babies in the next 6 months. Yes, there are 2 sets of twins.
It's August! Our month! And, when I call to tell the nurse that I haven't had my cycle since June. She tells me that she talked to me in July and that we were waiting until August because my husband wanted us to wait. No. Seriously lady. No. That's not what happened. I didn't call in July. I spoke to you in June. I promise. She asked that I call her on Monday to let her know if I had started my period yet. Nope. Sorry lady. I'm actually 30 days late, with 2 negative pregnancy tests.
Now, I'm waiting for the nurse to return my call.
I am very frustrated with the entire process.
I have currently lost 17 lbs. I joined a gym. I have a trainer. I am working with my chiropractor to correct some of the chemical imbalances that are occuring in my brain as a result of high blood sugar, due to my insulin resistance as a complication of being diagnosed with Poly-cystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS). I currently weigh over 100 lbs more than I did when I met my husband. Yep 100. I can hardly believe it. I guess that's a whole lot of oreos and not a lot of gym time.
Most women would have thrown their hands up in the air by now.
I hear stories about women who tried and tried and tried to get pregnant for 6 months, it didn't work, and they now have perfect twins via IVF. Really? You couldn't even wait a year?
I feel like I've paid my dues. Everyone I know and love has had at least one baby, some more than 2. I'm ready. Could I please have my baby now?

Decisions, or not

Tony and I moved to California in April of 2010. April 2011 is quickly approaching. Where did the time go?
I recently returned from a trip to Dallas via Madison, Wisconsin. Tony and I got a call from my mom on January 23rd that my mom and Jim were on their way to Madison for a heart transplant. At first, I didn't understand what was happening. What? Jim was on a list, but not an 'I'm so sick I'm gonna die tomorrow' kind of list. As I was driving to Anne and Walt Ahland's for brunch in Phoenix, I hung up the phone and immediately pulled over in to a parking lot. I couldn't hold myself together enough to drive. Tony and I got out of the car and I sobbed in his arms for several minutes. The emotion and shock was so overwhelming that I didn't know how to deal with it in any other way. We went to Anne and Walt's for brunch, and eventually told everyone what was happening. Tony and I discussed our options. I called my dad, who is also my boss and expecting me in Dallas the next day. We decided that I should fly to Madison as soon as possible. Tony took the dogs and drove home from Phoenix by himself. That was the last time I saw my husband for 2 1/2 weeks.
My trip to Madison went well. I am glad that I was able to go. My mom was extremely happy to have me there with her. I think she just needed some moral support. Jim was recovering tremendously well, and continues to do so.
I then made the trip from Madison to Dallas. I stayed with a very close friend who I don't see or talk to nearly as much as I would like. We had a nice time getting to see each other and talking for hours. It was nice to get to spend that time with her. While in Dallas my dad wrote me a letter. In that letter he wrote that he loves me, admires me and is proud of the woman I have become. I was shocked at his openness and random message of caring and love. I couldn't really wrap my head around his message.
I went to work at our shop for several days, when the roads were clear enough to drive safely, and enjoyed the time getting into the groove of things and feeling very comfortable. I have worked with my dad for 7 years now. To say that it's been a trial, is a massive understatement. He can be as unreasonable as a 5 year old in the grocery store screaming at the top of their lungs about something completely irrelevant. And yet, there is a brilliance to his madness. I continue to believe that in some way, on some level, he may be bi-polar or have adult ADD. He wants SO much to make a difference in the world, to make the world a better place. And I love that about him. I love that he is very good at working with people when he needs to, however, when it comes to me his social graces are less than barbaric. He berates me, yells at me, calls me in a panic about something that has already been solved, demands my attention whenever he feels it is necessary, whether I'm on vacation, in a hospital room, early on a weekend morning, etc. He has no boudaries with me. I have done my best to set them. To inforce them. And yet, he somehow breaks down every benchmark for crossing the line. I don't know how it happens, frequently I don't know he's crossed a line until our conversation is over.
I make a very good salary. As a result, there are some expectations that I must fulfill in order to continue my work. Unfortunatly one of those expectations is that I am to travel to Dallas for weeks at a time to work. The time change alone takes me a week to overcome. It is brutal. I have yet to figure out a way to make it better for myself.
I miss my husband like crazy. I have truly one of the most amazing men on the planet as my husband. Tony is my rock, my support, my love and my very closest friend. To be hundreds of miles away from him for long periods of time is very hard on both of us and our relationship. He gets to pick up all the tasks that I do when I'm home.
On my way to the airport on Tuesday, I broke down and let dad have all of the pent-up frustration that had culminated over the previous few weeks. It was a deluge of finger-pointing from me. I made him wrong, and me the martyr. And in many ways, logically, that's true. I certainly take my share of abuse for the 'team'. And I felt like I had finally gotten to a point where there was no way he could possibly understand anything I would say to him in a calm, rational manner. So, I simply started screaming at him. Not the best idea for trying to have a serious conversation. And I have a lot of trouble defending myself in a confrontational situation. There were things he brought up that I couldn't think fast enough to respond to. He kept telling me how much he loves me, that's why he pushes me so hard. And I asked why he couldn't just love me. Why he felt the need to push me, ever. He said it was because he could see my potential and that no matter how hard I try to deny my own power, he would never let me forget it.
Shit.
I couldn't say much after that. I blubbered for a while. He and I hugged and he kissed me and said he loves me and really appreciated all I did for him while I was in Dallas.
I have no idea what to do about my job. A lot of it is hands on in the office in Dallas. And so much of it can be done online.
We can't afford for me to get a different job making half of what I make now AND try to have a family. I know people can make it work, but honestly I don't want to give up my relationship with my dad.
He and I barely speak as it is. And when we do it's about work. But, if I don't work for him, I'll never hear from him, all he'll talk about is work, and I won't get paid for listening to him ramble on about things I don't understand. I'm very good at what I do. I don't want to walk away from dad, the money, or the comfort. And yet, how much of a toll is it taking on my marriage? How much is it really worth? I'm not happy sitting on my couch by myself all day. But what is the right move? I feel trapped. I feel like I have to choose between my dad and my amazing wonderful husband. For some it wouldn't be a tough decision. For me, it's terrifying. I've been doing all I know to try to avoid making a decision.
Oh, and add in the whole, trying to get pregnant thing that's been happening for almost 4 years, and I have a lot on my plate right now.

What I want:
Happy, easy, loving, relationship with Tony
Babies. Several of them
Great money, mutually appreciated relationship with my job
Friends I can hang out with and talk to on a level that I have to travel to Dallas to have =)

I miss my friends in Dallas. I miss how comfortable it is for me there.
But I LOVE southern California. I love the weather. I love that my honey is here and we have so much fun together! I love my animals and the friends we have made here. I want to have it all. Due to the whole stupid space-time thing, it makes it very difficult.