I should write every day

Because then you would all know that I am content mostly sort-of-ish, like all week until last night, which got all screwed up. You see, AF still isn't here, and I'm not pg, so now I'm just waiting for Godot.

I have lots of estrogen, but am overheated, sweaty, nervous, non-existent to light periods...you know hyperthyroid, except that my TSH looks normal sometimes, then really low. I'm getting another RAIU scan April 10th, so here's hoping it shows something and someone gives a damn...unlikely, but who knows?

I've had insomnia for a week now and I'm trying to keep it together, but I fell apart yesterday, between parent-teacher meetings, appointments, & errands and the house looked like a mess when hubs came home. So he freaked...we had been getting along so well for the last little while. And we had a fight. I just can't stand fighting, but inevitably when I'm tired and cranky and hormonal I say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing, and set him off, but it gets worse because he just can't let go of petty old resentments that he has built up. At one point, we were getting along and had sort of made up, but had another fight when he got angry over something from THREE years ago.

Like I remember 3 years ago? Major stuff, yes, but a little dispute over parking the car? Hardly...I know we'll make up, but still, not fun.

Anyway, I've got to go finish my film before Bea kicks my ass....it's almost done...

Oh, head's up..do NOT see Pan's Labyrinth if you have ever had a miscarriage, or stillbirth, or high-risk pregnancy and as far as current movies go...."Meet the Robinsons" doesn't sound like a great movie for adoptees or really anyone who cares about adoption to see. We all know Disney has a weird obsession with missing or dying mothers in it's movies...from Bambi to Tarzan, they just can't show a living normal mother, but this one is strange...the kid is looking for his "Birth Mother", but he is described as an "orphan", (if he really was an orphan, she'd be dead, duh...obviously she's alive) and everyone seems to want to hide the information he needs. They keep telling him to "keep moving forward" and ignore the past...except that's bullshit as we all know.

Yes, Bea we do need the International Infertility Film Festival!

And maybe an adoption one next. We'll get some of the first Moms to do that...hehe

Hard Work

I've had some really intense discussions lately, with my husband, with friends, with reporters, online with people, and with my therapist.

I have a strong sense of justice. Injustice bothers me so intensely I literally cannot sleep. I have focused on generic injustices in the universe but I'm starting to focus on myself more. Like, maybe I deserve some justice too. Personally.

Pink is pink, green is green. Repeat it a billion times in a row, and pink will still not be green. Even if 'they' think it SHOULD be.

From my own birth through every reproductive event in my life, the world has told me how I SHOULD feel. No one ever ASKS me how I feel, or why I feel this way, or believes me if I don't give them the answer they like.

Okay, many of YOU ask and care, but some people in my world IRL, don't. Some blogreaders don't.

So as far as being an adoptee, infertility, miscarriage, stillbirth, momming, working, grieving, and just plain old living:

Dear World,

Don't tell me how to feel.

Ask

Don't tell my feelings are "wrong" because it doesn't fit your predefined world view. Just accept that I have a right to any damn feelings I want.

Don't dismiss me, minimize my feelings, or pretend I'm stupid. Don't 'label' me depressed because I'm not 'over it' in the precise timeframe you want me to be. I may never feel 'over it.' My actions may be wrong, my beliefs and theology may be messed up, my words may be inappropriately phrased.

But my feelings are never wrong, they just are what they are.

I may never get the justice I want, and I have to figure out how to sit with that. If none of the people who have hurt me ever apologizes to me or explains what happened, I may feel shitty forever.

I am sad my babies are dead.

I am sad I was adopted.

I am sad I was adopted by the people I got stuck with.

I am sad my ovaries are in organ failure.

I am sad I may never get pregnant or stay pregnant again.

I am sad the world thinks these issues are no big deal.

I am also strangely enough, still a happy productive accomplished person and a good mother. It is possible to go through life and carry some sadness and still be happy to exist. It's just heavier baggage to carry.

Even if you, World, don't think this juxtaposition of my feelings SHOULD exist.

Damned impudent nervy woman that I am...

Signed,
Aurelia

P.S. I feel like the last week has been a marathon every day. And pressing publish feels like an emotional release. The good kind.

YouTubing it for my peeps

I need to cheer up so I'm going to do a list of all the Youtube videos that have any relation whatsoever to pregnancy, infertility, miscarriage, or loss also music videos that talk about this stuff and this time, I'm not including "cute baby goes splat videos", they can go on another post.

Any suggestions? Additions?

First up - Lady Saw - No Less than a Woman "Infertility" - awesome video



Free Hugs Campaign - Because sometimes hugs can really help after a BFN

Nine months of gestation in 20 seconds - Because some of our pregnancies only last 20 seconds, I know some of mine have. (Baby in last 2 seconds of movie, pause just before if you don't feel like looking)

Dixie Chicks - Not Ready to Make Nice - I know it's about politics, but this also sounds like I felt after I lost my babies....

Dixie Chicks - It's so hard when it doesn't come easy - can't find the video, anyone out there?

Monty Python - Every Sperm is Sacred - C'mon I had to put this one in, puh-leeze.

Monty Python - Sex Education - Everyone thinks babies are made this way, but I think they left some important parts out, like the injections? And the infertility financing credit card?

(You have to do an easy sign in for the above one BTW, YouTube thinks it's dirty, apparently the word clitoris is rather shocking, snort!)

Monty Python - Hospital Sketch - Illustrates the way I usually view Drs. and hospitals.

Any others, doesn't have to be Youtube...just leave them in the comments or email me and we'll add them to the list!

Thanks!

Just to update a bit

*Update below*

In the last 48 hours, my sister-in-law V. has graciously consented to fulfill her legal obligations to her husband, in a sort of "Lady Bountiful" way. She will let P. move back into the family home after being discharged today from the hospital, but only for a week, then she's going to set him up in an apartment and give him a few months rent, while she sells the marital home and moves back home to her parent's estate with the kids. In another country far enough away he will have a tough time exercising his visitation regularly.

Considering how disabled he is now, and has no disability insurance, (he never qualifed because of the cholesterol) and how he provided for her and the kids until just recently in an incredibly generous manner, I'm appalled that she now thinks that's all she owes him. Instead this feels to me like because he can no longer be an unlimited cash machine, she's dumping him.

Thank you all for listening to me rant about this BTW, the only way I can keep my cool about this around the house and in public is to vent here. I just can't be zen everywhere all at once. Too effin' hard.

I'm off to buy some more peesticks now. A pointless waste of money, but maybe it will shut up the voice in my brain telling me it did work this time.

Updated to say: Nada...one line, shit CD31 and counting...where is AF?

gahhhh

Recently, things have been a bit calmer in my house, because my family has had a better time of it financially. Personally, I have my ups and downs but it's amazing what a positive bank balance as opposed to a negative one can do for the general feeling of zen in the house.

Should've known better.

1. AF is not here, but of course it is premature menopause fuckin' with my mind again and not the desired outcome.

2. In all good faith & intentions I have made some comments on various place on the web, and some have been taken well, and some I'm not sure. Foot-in-mouth again....or just paranoia. I'm feeling hypersensitive so maybe not.

3. My husband's family has a complex medical and mental history, including hypercholesterolemia, depression, and neurological ailments in various forms. (My kids so far have none of these, btw, but I digress...)

I mention this last one as an intro to say this week my brother-in-law, hmmm we'll call him "P.", is having some problems. He lives in London, England, and had a quadruple bypass about 5 years ago. He has had several TIAs since and doesn't take any of the meds he should consistently, and drinks to excess, smokes, and eats every fatty food he can find. And now his biotech venture isn't there anymore & his marriage has broken down. His wife moved out with the kids a few months ago.

So 2 nights ago he tried to kill himself. A really serious attempt. He was found in time, taken to the hospital and let out again, then a few hours later suffered a series of seizures related to the attempt and was taken back. He is in a hospital ward in serious condition.

In a day or two we think he'll be let out, and he will be homeless, penniless, and sick all alone thousands of miles from us.

You see, his wife V. decided this exact moment, AFTER his suicide attempt, was the perfect time to move back in to the family home, get an injunction forbidding him from coming back home, and cut him off from the family bank accounts.

She refuses to help him get mental help or support him, house him or feed him. (I'm not saying she should live with him, but she could get him an apartment, and stock it with food and get him a Dr.) She seems to have forgotten that whole "in sickness and in health" thing. She has informed us we should fly there and take responsibility for him!

P. is no saint, he has been badly off for awhile, and awful to live with, but he doesn't deserve this...this is just wrong....his wife is his legal next-of-kin and has an obligation to support him in this situation.

But the immorality of what she has done is just killing me. I can't wrap my head around this. It feels so vulture-like. My husband or one of his brothers may fly out in a few days, we may be bringing P. back here, if he'll come. I think he won't leave because he will want to be near his kids. Or the depression will make his medical conditions worse, and he will die from the stress and anxiety.

This is a rambling post that makes no sense...I just wish I could see the future.

Not sure why I'm saving this - so I'm sharing it

Updated with a correct drug name and another study link.

I started blogging long after my last confirmed pregnancy and loss happened. Recently a few bloggers, long-term ones, mentioned how long they had been TTC and been blogging, and I laughed at first, then realized with a shock, I've been doing this longer...and my last pregnancy longer than a chemical of a few days, was in 2004. The blogosphere barely existed back then.

I'm an old fart.

And some of the things you all now take for granted, like getting chromosomal analysis done on yourselves or your lost pregnancies, or using intravaginal prometrium instead of PIO, I helped make those things standard.

(Sounds strange, but all I'm going to say right now, is that I am a a tenacious bitch who threatens to sue at the drop of a hat, and then forces a policy change as a result. Never fuck with an obsessed grieving mother. Never.)

But I don't talk about it all here, and that is useless to me and to my blog friends like you all, who might need to read this or see it or know why I show up on your blog and give out useless assvice. Because maybe it isn't useless, at least sometimes.

(If any scientists reading any of this blog ever, have any corrections, updates, misspellings, whatever, please email me at aurelia dot cotta at gmail dot com, or leave a comment and I will fix it. I want this right if I'm going to save any wanted pregnancies. Thanks for your help!)

One thing I've done is try to fight for better diagnosis of miscarriage and pregnancy loss. There is very little evidence based medicine that researches how often and why miscarriages occur, and designs methods to prevent and treat them. The rule about not diagnosing miscarriage causes until after 3 losses is utter bullshit, based on population stats, but not lab & pathology reports. And that is a crime against all women's health IMO, not just the infertile. I am not a lab experiment dammit!

So, this is the method I will use again if I ever can get a damn egg out of my ovaries, and persuade it to speak to a sperm. I doubt I'll ever need it, (*sob*) so maybe you guys can use it?

First thing is, that chromosomally damaged pregnancies can't be saved using these meds. And lots of losses, especially early ones that do not show a heartbeat or movement or growth, are chromosomal. But lots aren't. Many miscarriages, premature births, stillbirths and things like IUGR, quite often can be a result of placental dysfunction, clots, calcifications, inflammation, improper formation, etc. (not always, but sometimes)

My endometriosis adhesions could have caused the my placental inflammation, or a gene I have called PAI-1 4G/4G, which causes reduced fibrin clearance. In other words, my blood doesn't sweep away the crap that accumulates when something tears in my body. ( a cut, a scrape, a placenta attaching to a wall, etc.) It's sort of like having the opposite of hemophilia, ie. too much clotting, as opposed to not enough. This gene and endo have been linked, but because of epigenetics, (what happens to you in your life like your environment, viruses, infections, or medical conditions can switch your genes on and off, therefore, biology isn't destiny) I don't put much stock in the idea that we are helpless against our genes.

For example, this gene can cause death in sepsis in meningitis and pneumonia. In fact, most people don't die from these diseases, but the ones who get very ill, quite often have this gene. But we have vaccines for those things, so I got the pneumovax shot, and meningitis (Mena.ct-ra) shots, and I no longer worry about the gene in that respect. I'll keep getting any new shots I find, and I go to a cardiologist once a year for checkups. Is there a fix for this gene in pregnancy? Not a fix precisely, but a treatment protocol I dreamed up with my RE's help.

I know about the inflammation on my placenta, because I hired a placental pathologist look at the remains of both my late miscarriages. Her name is Dr. Carolyn Salafia and she is at Early Path Consultations here.

She has lots of scientific info on her site about placentas and pregnancy. I love her to pieces!!!

Anyway, basically the idea is that as soon as you ovulate or transfer an embryo you start using hcg (as a micro dose shot, 1000 iu/day or 3000 iu/every three days & not just as a trigger), baby aspirin, progesterone, prednisone, and folic acid. This study describes one version.

After confirming pregnancy, (2 successive blood hcg tests, inbetween micro hcg shots, beta goes up you are preggers, down you aren't), you switch the aspirin to heparin and keep it all up for the first trimester.

You check the progress of the placenta formation by doing weekly early dopplers on the uterine arterial blood flow.

In the second trimester you continue the heparin, use weekly progesterone shots (17-hydroxyprogesterone caproate) study citation here instead of suppositories or prometrium and continue folic acid. Prednisone can be stopped when you feel comfortable with the doppler numbers and your blood pressure stays nice and low.

It's not too late for people to get a report from Early Path, if your losses occurred even a few years ago. Slides from every placenta & birth or pregnancy loss, even terminations, are always kept for 10 years by law in most jurisdictions (Canada & US), so you could ask your hospital or Doctor to send slides and whatever paper records and test results you have.

I know this all sounds complicated, but it's easier than delivering dead baby after dead baby, until you get a live one, and a hell of a lot less traumatic I think.

I'm going to explain more about some of this in subsequent posts and what has happened to me in the past. I just can't write anymore today.

Phony, phoney telephony

I have just learned about Google Talk. I've tried to use it but so far I can only call and can't figure out how to hang up. Unfortunately, this means I left a 10 minute voicemail for someone that involved heavy breathing, and lots of, "Is this thing working?", not to mention the ever famous, "Can't you two children stop fighting? I'm on the phone!" And they laugh at me, and say, "You aren't on the phone, you are at the computer. What is that thing on your head?"

And, "If that's a phone, why does it have a cord?"

I have no reply for that. They are of course, right. This online-skype-google-phone-with-free-long-distance-as-long-as-I-pay-a-crapload-for-my-internet-DSL will NEVER take off as long as it involves a cord. (Mostly because there is an entire generation already born and walking around who have never seen phones with cords.)

I know something is supposed to ring and let me know there is a call, but where does it ring? And how do I put out the garbage, cook dinner, garden, unload groceries, switch laundry loads, and go pee & wash my hands while using it if I'm tied to the computer by a cord?

Yes, I pee while talking on the phone. AND SO DO YOU, DON'T LIE!

If we are really good friends, I'll admit it, otherwise I'll just tell you I'm washing dishes and the running water in the background is the tap. But secretly, now you all know the truth, I never wash dishes!

Okay, now what do I do if one of you calls someday and I really AM washing dishes, hmmmm.....

Pictures are my other great accomplishment this weekend. I have finally discovered how to get the photos from my new digital camera off the camera and onto the computer. Not sure what comes next....you all seem to do amazing things, but the manual for this puppy is 98 freakin' pages long so it's not so easy. I finally found the red-eye reduction button and auto-flash this weekend after taking 170 photos of red-eyed alien people in darkened rooms.

Next ambition, I may attempt to post photos on my blog.

hahahahahhahahahahhahahahaha

I have PMS or a horrible sudden onset mental illness that only comes once a month. Which means that in order to get pregnant, I may have to go back to my fertility clinic. I think my fantasy is dying on the vine here people. My last Day 3 FSH was 22. They may not return my phone calls. Of course I have another RAIU coming up so radiation might be bad around fetbryos and eggs right? *Sigh*

Very funny blog post here written by a fellow ADDer. Choked on my 2006 Wolf Blass Yellow Label Chardonnay, which tastes like lighter fluid BTW. Back to the 2005 Valdadige Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio I think. If we're celebrating AF coming, we may as well get drunk on the good stuff.

And pee it out while talking on the phone to our friends!

Happy Irish Day!!

Aurelia isn't a very Irish name, but surprise it's not a my real one. hahahaha I am Irish IRL, raised Irish Catholic by my adoptive parents and Irish-Scottish-English Catholic from my birth parents, but I guess not really Irish to anyone from Ireland recently. My ancestors left after the famine, and didn't look back. Not much there until recently when the Celtic Tiger thing started economically. I'd love to go visit someday and see it the country for myself. It sounds fabulous....

In the meantime, I visit blogs like Sky Maybe and learn more about it until the day when I can go there myself. (She's pregnant finally and safely after a few miscarriages...crossing my fingers and toes for her until her little one gets here in ohh about 6 months?)

As for as the blogname goes, I had someone ask where the name Aurelia Cotta came from, and there is a blurb on my sidebar about it. If you look here, and scroll to history, you'll see the explanation I like but also, I sort of think that really if a women is the person whose body goes through this, then why would the precedure be named a Caesarian section; shouldn't it be named a Cottan section? I also think that we have an off view of history as if operations like this weren't possible. Written history is pretty disjointed, if the ancient Romans and Greeks knew about sanitation (and they did) maybe they knew more? I'm not sure.. there was and still is an operation performed to birth a child who is stuck that is not a c-section and keeps the mother alive and safe. It can be done without full abdominal surgery, but involves cutting the vaginal walls someway, cringeworthy yes, but better than dying. I saw something on a blog about it once, and damned if I can remember the name of it?

Anyway, Julius C. invaded Ireland once, so technically maybe I have a few Roman genes flying around in my cells, maybe it fits anyway.

Thank you all for your comments on my last post. I work very hard at all this parenting stuff. My husband sometimes thinks I focus to much on it, especially all the books I read and parenting classes I took for so many years. Still do...between my past and my losses and the infertility I'm scared I'll either be too protective or not vigilant enough. I don't want to project all my emotional crap onto them, or burden them, but I don't want to be the parent who is their "best friend" and lets them get away with murder either, just because they were so difficult to have.

Yes, a disjointed post....bits of stuff flying around my brain...

And I thought having them was hard....

(Yes, more stuff about my kids....heads up, just in case anyone is sensitive....)

The last 24 hours I have done the Walk of Shame in the Mommy world. But upon closer examination, it turns out that I am not so guilty, and my kid is not so awful and maybe this isn't all so shameful.

Just freakin' complicated. *Sigh*

They are both in hockey camp this week, for March Break. (A horrible invention that fills working parents with dread.) This hockey camp is run by my local University and is usually one of the best in the city. My older son has been there before, and LOVED it, so the younger one went this year.

Yesterday mid-morning I drop off my little guy's backpack and am pulled aside by his counselor, who starts asking me questions. And then drops the a few bombs. Turns out my darling hyper boo boo prone little boy has been hitting other kids, with open handed slaps. And insulting the counselors, by yelling about how they have no "dicks", (while pointing to the pelvic area....groan) He is being asked to leave camp for the day because his behaviour is so outrageous.

And as I stare in shock at the young man, and hang my head in shame, I am gripped with the sudden desire to spank my kid hard and yell and scream and go thermofreakin' nuclear on him.

But I don't hit, I never do, I'll admit to yelling sometimes, but I didn't this time. It's the legacy of growing up in an abusive family. The first instinct is always to do the wrong thing. The hardest lesson I have had to learn as a parent, is how to be normal and calm, even in the face of utter humiliation, stress, exhaustion, and anger.

I breathed, I counted to ten, and asked for more details about what happened.

I pulled my 6 year old little guy aside and told him that hitting was wrong, always wrong, even if the other kid HAD called him penis-breath and never even got caught. When a bigger kid wrestles with him and puts him in a headlock, he should be upset, but the counselors stopped it 5 seconds later, so throwing an angry tantrum for the next ten minutes is pointless, and doesn't help anyone.

We leave, we go home, we have many more chats about controlling our emotions, and finding out what really happened. The problem is that since I'm hearing about it a few days later, his memory is a bit fuzzy on details and some things have blended in with other things.

I realize that he as a 6 year old cannot be held responsible in the same way as my 10 year old. The camp should've told me earlier, and they should've been supervising the kids inside the locker room, instead of hanging out in the hallway. It turned out the joke about not having dicks was something the bigger kids had been telling each other, and the little kids had overheard it. They of course did not really understand it, they just knew it was "bad" and fun and repeated what the big kids were doing. And lo and behold...who gets caught? Same with some of the other insults. No, my son should NOT have hit anyone, but kids also get provoked, and if no one is watching and helping them deal with it....I just think he isn't the only guilty party here, y'know?

This morning we dropped him off, and we had rehearsed a plan for keeping our temper under control, in fact I even playacted it out. I called him names and he practiced breathing and counting to 10 and telling the "counselor" aka Dad.

It worked so far, no calls this morning, but hey, it's early...I'm dreading my cell phone ringing at this point.

I am also keeping my head up high and practicing my breathing. Cause I can hardly expect my six year old to do it if I can't, right?

The choices humans make

Surfing around today, I saw this post at Catherine's which links back to this previous post. Good questions...but my reply was getting so long, I thought I should just put it on my own blog, instead of ranting on hers!

Dear Catherine,

Well, if you are going to hell, so am I. I questioned God's existence after my children died and some days I still do.

But after a lot of thought, I believe God has given humanity all the intelligence and ethics and compassion it needs to save the lives of all people, from tiny miscarried babies to the elderly.

We simply choose not to save them.

We, meaning the government, the doctors, society at large, are simply determined to focus our money and energy and brains on war and anger and celebrities and circuses, instead of bread.

God gives us free will, and humanity can choose compassion and dignity, and to devote our resources to preventing these tragedies.

Or we can do what we are doing right now, which is NOTHING. When politicians and HMOs and Health Ministries make bad choices, God weeps. When we as citizens allow cruelty to be done in our name to grieving parents, God weeps.

When children die all over the world, it's humanity's own damn fault, and the bereaved parents are the collateral damage. They sweep us aside; they pretend we aren't sad; they call our losses nothing.

The same world that invented nuclear weapons could've installed an early warning system for tsunamis. They chose not to. The same world that invented Viagra could've invented drugs that prevent miscarriages and stillbirths and spread it's fame far and wide. They choose not to.

The same Churches that preach about life being sacred could choose to preach about prenatal health and nutrition, about the lack of maternal-fetal research and poor diagnosis. I rarely if ever hear that from the pulpit.

God isn't slamming the door in our faces at this feast Catherine. Our fellow human beings are.

Today I'm going to blame them, instead of God. I might change my mind tomorrow, but for now, he's off the hook.

I don't know if you should try again or not, but the heparin and steroids your Doctor recommended might be God's way of saying, "Look, another human being might let you in the door this time. But you have to be willing to accept the invite to dinner, or we'll never know for sure."

Peace and love my friend, whatever you do.

Drama, Drama, DRAMA BABY!

I'm having a bit of a day, a few days, which is why I've been out of touch and not blogging/brighting. (DD's invention, web writer = briter, not blogger, K?) This weekend was husband's birthday, and we tried to give him a nice day. Sunday we had a bunch of people over for dinner, and today, I had some adventures in therapy.

I had a very long EMDR session with my therapist today, and worked on some issues around my adoptive family and my miscarriages. How do these connect? Pretty simple, society refuses to acknowledge losses it is uncomfortable with. The loss of my biological connection at birth matters to me, and the loss of my very much wanted miscarried children matters to me.

But to the world, not so much.

I know, worth comes from within, and I shouldn't worry about what others think, but I'm not made of steel, and there are limits to how many shitty people I can take per square inch. So I'm working this out in my brain. It's hard, overwhelms me sometimes, and then it gets a bit better. Sort of like trying to make a wild rollercoaster ride into a nice smooth train ride, it takes time to untwist all that neurosis.

Speaking of ignoring my emotional limits, I topped off my day with a nice long interview with a reporter at the cemetary. We sat around the gravesite in the freezing cold, talking and drinking lousy coffee. (Yes, I really know how to entertain the fourth estate...fuck...oh well)

This really got my adrenaline pumping...the article won't be out for a long long while btw, she'll let me know when I guess. Feels like an eternity at this point, plus she's making it about other parts of Canada, not just my city.

So, I'm excited and exhausted and yes I know I seriously did way too much today, I plan on vegging tomorrow and reading all of you brighters. I have barely looked in on your blogs all this weekend and today.

Must sleep now...rollercoaster is coming to an end for the night.

Halfway There

I'm halfway through fixing my blogroll. I have updated and made some categories. The difference is that I have double & triple listed some people.

Why? Because I LIKE to be complicated, snort....I am an adoptee, infertile, a parent with secondary IF, a grieving parent, a person with ADD, and political; not necessarily in that order. And many people I read are like that.

So give me until the end of the day to put more links on, I'm working on it still. (ie. my adoption list is sparse, my parent list non-existent, give me a few more hours, K?)

Plus, I'm thinking of making a few lists within posts, or people on my lists who have gone through PPD or depression, and a list of "ADD Superstars" (I have to get a copy of that graphic button...hmm) and a list of female Canadian bloggers. (Catnip has one started, but I thought what the heck, I could too? Just because there aren't very many of us compared to other countries.) Plus a bunch of other link lists...

As you check any of these out BTW, some I lurk on and don't comment, some I read religiously, and some with cute adorable babies I read less on days when I am feeling a little bitter and infertile. (I love your kids, and I'm happy for you, heck I have two of my own...I just have to guard my emotions somedays, K?) Weirdly, I am less bothered by the discussion of older kids, just the newborns, but I digress...

If you have any to add, or you read me and want me to read you or link to you, leave links or names in the comments, or email me at aurelia dot cotta @ gmail dot com , but like I said I'm not quite done yet today, I just have to go shopping and buy food or we'll all starve through March Break.

(Oh and yes, I have tried just importing my bloglines list, but bloglines unsubscribes people occasionally, and I don't want that to happen, sooo, here we are, typing away)

Detente

(Heads up: children briefly mentioned)

We hit an agreement last night, husband and I, to talk about camps, etc. and do it calmly. He says that he just wants to be more involved with planning this stuff, and it isn't a personal slight in regards to my previous efforts.

I have to say I'm not sure I believe that, but I'm willing to allow the possibility. He also agreed that our little guy is way to young and not ready for overnight camp, and that sleepaway camps can be researched...a few weeks at one with indoor plumbing and a doctor some where close is more reasonable for the 10 year old to start at than roughing it in the bush. (And yes, 2 weeks is the minimum around here for sleepaway camps, except for weekender trips.)

But, as I told someone in an email, my biggest problem is that kids are cut off from their parents. No phoning and no contact allowed. Supposedly this is to prevent homesickness, but I think that is BS. A friend who was a camp counsellor once mentioned to me that really it was so they could get some time "to undo all the damage parents do to their kids before they have to go back." Yes, really. He laughed about it and said it was common knowledge.

Now don't get me wrong, I know there are neurotic parents & kids out there, but WTF are these camp people to imply that we ALL are bad parents? Like they are SO perfect. Plus, the lack of contact means that unlimited bullying & abuse can occur and creeps who want to get to kids can screen all their calls and prevent them from getting help. Yes, it can occur in people's homes too, but that's why I'm in favour of kids having lots of outside contact with adults they trust like teachers and daycare workers and extended family. That way, a kid always has someone to turn to.

In a closed environment, like a camp or a residential school or a boarding school, where unmonitored contact with the outside world is forbidden or technically impossible, history has shown that terrible things can happen. Will they? Probably not...maybe highly unlikely these days...but I'd like to wait to take the chance until my kid is about a foot taller and aheck of a lot stronger and maybe even a little older.

Trouble is, just talking about it out loud makes me sound like a paranoid nutcase who wants to prevent my kids from getting some fresh air and seeing some wilderness. And I'm not...seriously.

But at least blogging about it has let me write out my fears and put them in some sort of articulate order. *Sigh* Now if I could just say them outloud to my husband without stammering...

Off to research camps and deal with today's hockey tournament.

Crabby Camp Mommy...

Warning: Children mentioned, also crabby husband...

I have to run off today and shop and do various things. In the freezing bloody cold. I am feeling crabby about this because my darling husband set the tone for me at severe crab-o-meter starting last night, and darned if I know why. He came home last night to a lovely hot dinner, salad, dessert, happy children, (reasonably) tidy house. We were talking about our day, and March Break, and tomorrow's hockey championship and the after party. I had had a good day, with a government and media person I spoke too...all was well. He asked something about the kid's camps, and I told him I had it all arranged, I was just waiting for one person to get back to me about something.

And at that point he lowered his head on the table and muttered something about "why I left it up to you." (meaning me?) I ignored him, but from that point on, he continued to act particularly grumpy, finally leaving during dessert and going up to his office.

You see, he seems to have a strange preoccupation with the children's schooling, camp, music lessons and playdates these days, you know, MY DEPARTMENT. Gah...we had no money at all the last few years and so instead of the usual fantastic exclusive waiting list only sports camps, I threw in a few weeks of city camps and weeks with mom hanging around the house. We saw movies, went to the Science Centre, rented a Playstation, went to the park. Not bad I thought.

Problem, is that this erased all the years of *wow I can't believe you got them in to that sailing/computer/tennis/hockey camp* moments we had before. He's forgotten everything. Plus, he seriously believes that the only camps worth going to are sleepaway camps. Which I am completely opposed to.

This is where our relationship hits a few rocky areas. I grew up poor. (Yes another adoptee given to a poor family, even though my birth mother was lied to & told I was going to a middle class family who could give her more, but I digress...). He grew up wealthy, although his family lost their business later. He had a private schools and sleepaway camp and a second summer home and housekeepers. I had Catholic schools, (yes private Catholic high school, but at a steep discount for my family), and for summer we hung out around the neighbourhood. No music lessons, no camps, vacations were car trips to my relatives. We went to Disney once in my life, in a motorhome.

And reality is that most people in North America did not have a summer home or go to sleepaway camp for weeks on end. Even today, that is not the norm. I myself did not know anyone who went away to camp, ever. I knew people who went camping as a family, or went to daycamp, or did a weekend sleepover party at a friends house, but sleeping away from your family? For weeks? Bizarre...

So my compromise is that I will look into my oldest kid going to sleepaway camp for a few weeks this summer, but not the little one. And I have to check it out completely, top to bottom, plus I would like to be worth the money. They charge utterly outrageous prices, with a huge range, and not every one of them is well-run. I admit to being picky. Husband's take on this is that I am being unreasonable, and he doesn't see why we can't send both of them this summer, for 8 weeks of canoe-tripping in the far north. Nevermind how completely unsuitable this is developmentally, at $800/week, we don't have $13,000 to blow on that. In fact, only millionaires do. My idea is maybe we can mix in some fun sport camps at $300/week and do some vacation time, you know....WITH our children, the ones we worked so hard to have?

I know, you all think IVF costs a lot...have you checked out daycare & camp lately? Trust me, it only gets more expensive....

Basically I have no idea why he is sticking his nose in this, but he is, and it is driving me slightly batty. So I'm going to grocery shop now, and hope he resets his mood tonight. I may email him with the details of the kids March Break plans....I never had to justify any of this before...grrrr....

Those difficult moments

(I know part of this post may upset some adoptees and birth mothers out there. I'm sorry ahead of time, please know that each situation is unique, I'm not referring to you, and really this post is about my husband and me.)

Yesterday we all went out to a family party that was meant as a celebration for my 10 year old niece. There was a bunch of extended family there, and for the first time, the little girl I mentioned waaaay back here.

When I first heard that this very young relative was pregnant unexpectedly, I had wondered out loud to my husband about the possibility of us adopting the baby, simply because knowing her, I knew that this woman would not be a very good mother, and I didn't want CAS to seize the child and take her away from all her blood relatives and give her to strangers to raise or let her bounce around foster care. It wasn't something we had done anything about, and she of course, had no interest in giving up her child. But she also had no interest in being a good mother, she really sincerely thought it would be lots of fun to hang out with a baby, assumed she would gets "lots" of money from it, (yes, a quote). Totally unrealistic...

Well, over a year later, back in the real world, it has been very very hard for her to keep her child. She gets daycare subsidies, but works nights in a bar, so she never sees the little girl. (She refuses to try and get a day job, "too boring.") Her ex-boyfriend keeps trying to get more and more time with the child, and gives her some money, but not much because he has very little money. Two parents (who are more like kids themselves), no high school education, no parenting skills, and no motivation to try. Yes, the child will have food and shelter courtesy of grandparents, and no-one will physically hurt her, but still not exactly a great situation...

Anyway, the baby was there, with her grandmother, and all of us. I kept it together and tried to be nice and polite, baby chit-chat and all. (Honest admission: It is hard for me to see any baby anywhere, not just this one.) The hostess had called me and given me a heads up that they would be there, which I was glad for, since I could stick myself in the right frame of mind ahead of time.

The strange thing was my husband reaction...Mr. Cool and Collected was acting so strange, I couldn't get over it. He was running around COOING after this little baby girl. Trying to get her attention, making goo goo faces. He was positively yearning for her to pay some attention to him, to play with him, to hug him.

He NEVER does this, with any baby except our own boys, and they haven't been babies in ages. It was just so hard to see him, so obviously wanting a child, and knowing that it probably won't happen.

He never talks about our lost daughters, just alludes to "the reason we bought the car," or "what happened before."

For years now, he has acted like he doesn't even want me to try to get pregnant, that he has no interest in having more kids, and that he only goes along with all my obsessions just to keep the peace. (Interspersed of course, with comments that make it clear he wants to have a baby. And of course, we are still having sex, blah blah blah *eyeroll*) A few months after one of our miscarriages, he actually told one of our mutual friends that he was only going along with my renewed attempts to get pregnant because he knew it wouldn't work anyway. That really hurt...

But now I wonder, did he really mean that when he said it? Or is he just desperate to not get hurt again, to not be disappointed again, to not have another terrible loss eat us both up. When he said that, was he only trying to protect himself? Gahhhh, if he would rather stick a fork in his eye than talk about his feelings, then how am I supposed to know what's going on?

I'm starting to wonder if any man on earth exists who will talk about his feelings openly and honestly. Somewhere? I've met a few...but not a lot. And in the blogosphere, well, there are very few male bloggers who talk about infertility and loss. IRL, not very many ever show up at my support group meetings.

I'm starting to think that there must be some secret group of men out there who talk about their feelings when women are not present....like a club we don't have the password for.

My power is out

The storm that hit my city has left me without power, and I am at an internet cafe today. Remind me to buy a generator someday...

And yes, hopefully it will be on soon, but I won't get the chance to do much blogging or reading today, so as Lut says, don't break the internet while I'm gone, haha.

ETA:

It's back, the electricity is on! Yayyyy for heat and light and internet!!!

The email I want to send my Dr.

Dear J,

I may see you before my follow up appointment, because I’m in agony over my legs still. My x-rays at the ER were clear, but the burning pain radiating out from my knees is getting worse. I think I need a bone scan or a CT to check for hairline fractures. Or maybe I have soft tissue damage in which case something is definitely wrong because this should be getting better, and it really is worse every day. Yes, maybe I’ll come in to see you so you can poke at them too.

But about that nagging thyroid issue….

I saw the new endocrinologist today, and as I told your receptionist, it was a complete waste of my time. And tonight I’ve been angry, in tears, in despair, frustrated, and finally bitter.

She’ll send a report to you, but the quick and dirty sum-up is that she thinks that the RAIU results and scan are irrelevant, since my TSH is normal. She refused to order another RAIU or scan and refused to consider the possibility that amphetamines or dopamine could influence the test result. She then proceeded to parrot precisely everything Dr. Evil wrote in her report to you. This BTW is why I don’t believe that doctors should ever know about the existence of a prior diagnosis when the patient is attempting a second opinion.

So, you know what her theory is? That I have PCOS and/or insulin resistance.

hahahahahahahahahhahahahahaha

Even though I have no cysts, my Day 3 LH has never been higher than my FSH, I have always had normal insulin, blood sugar, testosterone, DHEA, and androgens. And my RE, Dr. Expert has always said that PCOS and POF cannot coexist in me. A physiological impossibility based on my labs and ultrasounds.

After I pointed out my test results to her, she started to climb back down a bit to say that I have some sort of transient hypoglycemia or insulin resistance, caused by the fact that I am eating all wrong. She thinks I eat the right type of food, just not often enough. This is based on the 2 minute description of what I ate YESTERDAY. She thinks I only eat every 6-7 hours, and eat nothing but refined carbs. Except that is NOT what I said. For example, I said that I love eating chocolate. I rarely eat it, but I love it. That doesn’t make me a pre-diabetic, it makes me human. I have had acne and hairy legs, but those are classic symptoms of estrogen/progesterone swings. I said that I do eat snacks, but she ignored it, and focused on the mention that I might’ve had a coffee as a treat as an example of my “bad eating".

I’m ignoring all the condescending brochures & magazine clippings she gave me like this one: “The Diet that could make you a mom!” --- (wow I’m so happy she gave that one to me, since that world famous fertility doctor I go to will be shocked! to hear that this all new! diet! is the cure! for all my dead babies!)

Yes, you can just imagine my reaction to someone telling me that my children would be alive if I hadn’t scarfed down that loaf of Wonder Bread.

Thank God I actually know the cause of my miscarriages. I can only imagine the psychological trauma this dimwit would inflict on some of the grieving mothers I know. I’m also ignoring the *super exclusive* lab requisitions she graciously allowed me to have. You’ve run my blood sugar and creatinine before. Not exactly a shit hot diagnostician is she?

So, in all seriousness, we have to talk about a better plan. Specifically, I need to get the appropriate tests & treatments done for the actual illnesses I DO have. And can I see a Dr. who will diagnose me based on lab results, and not my diet choices for one day, or on the spare magazines clipping lying around her office? I have a couple of requests and some ideas. We can talk about them at my follow up appointment. I don’t think I can bear to talk about this in person right now.

Thanks,

Aurelia

(Pssst: And to you, my lovely blog readers, now I have to go eat some fruity puffs soaked in a bowl of vodka with sugar & insulin on top. I'm trying to zero out my fertility so that if one of those dastardly little spermies ever finds an egg, I can write off the next pregnancy ahead of time without even bothering to POAS. Great plan, huh? *eyeroll*)

Can't keep up

With all your blogs right now, since I have A. overextended myself by subscribing to eeek, over a hundred, and B. been sick or injured and tired this past week.

So I'm going to cull a few that well, let's be honest, I used to read but now barely read since they don't read me. And really they are just busy too I guess. *Sniff sniff*

So, I am going to update my blogroll on my sidebar someday this week or next, and start working on focusing on people I like. Plus figure out why Bloglines keeps unsubscribing blogs I do like! (Sorry Little Sister) And focus on my kidlets and house, which is slowly coming together, haphazardly yes, but still working better.

Have to go pretend new Dr. will have something decent to say, and then get my bone scan, and pretend my leg bones don't have hairline fractures somewhere. (Apparently x-rays don't always pick them up, you need special scans or CTs, which is why that doctor really was a butthead.)

Must shower now, clean and pretty=credible patient.

Now if only sick=treatment.

Fuck.