I need a California Therapist for Phone Therapy

The plan right now is to take things one day at a time, accepting that some days will be harder, and others easier, but that overall I am going to get stronger and healthier. This makes sense, logically, but just a little deeper the 'What If's" are still spinning strong. I woke from my drugged sleep last night mumbling about making a list of things to do.

How do I get from where I am right now, on all these medications, unable to drive or be left alone, to a place where I am healthy enough to grow a baby and be a mother?

Clearly I have a shit ton of trauma from our infertility journey that I need to work through, and I need a therapist who is going to hold my feet to the fire to do the work necessary to get healthy again. One of the reasons we chose CCRM for this final cycle was because they have a strong counseling component. My mom reminded me of this today and I called to see if I could schedule some phone sessions. These therapists know their stuff when it comes to infertility. BUT they can only 'treat' patients who are in Colorado.

I love my current therapist, but I think that it's time to find someone who really knows what I've been through and can push me to talk about the things that are hidden beneath the surface, the things that I am not going to bring up on my own. Please anyone, if you have a recomendation, please leave it in the comments.

Love to all,



PS: This is how we celebrated Little Fox's Birthday!

Journey

It's all about the journey, right?

This is not the destination, just a stop along the way. I have excellent care. Really, I think that this was the culmination of years of infertility trauma that finally caught up with me. Taking it one day at a time, and trusting that this too shall pass.

I Won't Give Up

I know that there are some hard core Jason Mraz lovers here. I just listened to his song "I won't give up" and it it home BIG time.

Last Friday I was sitting in the 'clinical decision' unit of our local hospital for a psych assessment. My therapist had sent us there. The Labor and Delivery Nurse manager met us at the door and took us straight into a private ED room. I hugged her, but it was super awkward since I work professionally with her, often as advisaries. My mom and husband were with me. I'd glad that my mom was there and told the nurse that I didn't need to put on the paper gown - I was already feeling beyond incredibly vulnerable. We waited for what felt like forever, until they moved us to a different part of the hospital, the 'Clinical Decision Unit".  

A man came into our room and asked my mom and Mr Fox to leave. It sounded like a statement rather than a question and I immediately wished that I had said no and had them stay. He asked me a bunch of questions, I honestly can't remember any of them. My mom and husband came back into the room and I held onto my husband like he was the only stable thing in the room. The staff and my mom and therapist were all recommending admission. I honestly didn't care anymore. I just couldn't feel this way any longer. I was desperate for an escape from my mind, from the grief of our failed FET, from the fear of our final cycle not working, from trying to function in a world that just kept moving forward while I was paralyzed.

God love my husband who kept asking questions, who kept pushing to get me seen by a psychiatrist as an outpatient, who spoke up about my fears about being left alone in a hospital, he was incredible. He wasn't going to give up on me, even as I was clinging to him, curled on a hospital bed crying and unable to speak up for myself. His perseverance got us an appt that afternoon with a psychiatrist and a safety plan to take me back home to my own bed. 

We drove straight across town to the Psychiatrist office. Also awkward is that I know his wife well and used to babysit for his step daughter. He has twin daughters who were born via gestational surrogate after his wife lost a pregnancy at 5 months. He knew intimately the grief and loss that is infertility. Nonetheless, I wasn't in a place where being told that my grief would pass was helpful. But having a plan and knowing that someone was going to try and help me was really helpful. He added some prescriptions (abilify and ??? ) to the mix I am already on and made a follow up appt for the following Tuesday.

Mr Fox got me home, got extra help to watch Little Fox and me, got my prescriptions filled, and has taken care of everything since then. We've had our challenges, but dear god, this man "Won't Give Up On Me." I may be a royal mess, but he's got my back. 

There is so much I need to get out and I think that it might be time to add blogging back to my toolbox of coping strategies. In the meantime Thank YOU (Yep YOU - whoever you are and however you ended up here) for reading this and for being a safe place for me to share.

Not so Fast.

I'm on a lot of medications at the moment, and am having a hard time keeping track of the days this past week and what exactly is was that 'broke' me. Here goes at my best attempt at recreating a timeline that led me to the Emergency Department for a Psych Evaluation.

Our Frozen Embryo Transfer went perfectly. My lining was better than it had ever been. The embryo defrosted perfectly as a day 5 AA CCS genetically perfect blasting out of its shell. I was so sure that it worked. I just knew that I was pregnant. I felt all of the right twinges and my boobs grew and hurt like a bitch. I knew I was pregnant.

I went for my beta 9 days later on Thursday, but when I got the call from the clinic it turned out that the lab had only ran a qualitative result (Yes or No). They had the lab working to re-run the test and would call us on Friday with the results. A few calls back and forth with the Clinic and the Lab to figure out what has happened and I finally had to beg the nurse to tell me that it was a Positive result. BFP!!! I was pregnant, just like I knew I was.

When Mr Fox got home that evening, I had Little Fox tell him "I'm going to be a big brother." It was the excitement and happiness that I've dreamt of. On Friday we got the actual beta of 45, which confirmed pregnancy, so I met up with my sisters and got a video of telling them that I was pregnant. It was so much happiness and joy. The next day Little Fox gave my mom a little onesie as I told her we were pregnant. Her reaction was beautiful. Later that evening we stopped by Bestie's house to make the big announcement there too. I made a sweet little meme image that we could share announcing Baby Fox due in November.

Mr Fox had plans in the City to engage in debauchery with a few buddies on Saturday night. I got my second blood draw done, knowing that it would take a day to get the results.

Sunday morning as Little Fox and I were getting ready to go to a birthday party I got a call from the Clinic that my beta had dropped from 45 to 8 and it wasn't a viable pregnancy. Danm it. I asked for another beta just to be sure. I left a message for Mr Fox. I sent a brief text message to important people saying that we'd celebrated too early and that it wasn't a viable pregnancy. And we went off to the 4 year old birthday party.

Mr Fox was home shortly and we were sad, but accepted that this is an imperfect science with odds against us. We still had one final embryo to transfer, so hope was not lost.

I went back to work that Monday and kept busy all week.

I woke up the following Saturday with awful cramps. I loaded up on Advil and fixed one of those back heater wraps to my tummy and went to an important work event. The Advil wasn't helping. My mother in law was in town for the weekend so I sucked it up and did afternoon activities as a family. Early that evening I retreated to bed and called my Dr to ask about the cramps.

Who knows what she really said, but what I heard was "you're fine, take some more advil, get over it." In retrospect this may have been the beginning of the unraveling. I had physical pain that was now directly connected to my emotional pain and I couldn't ignore it anymore.

We went to breakfast with the in-laws the next morning, and I want to bed for the remainder of the day.

The tears started that evening.

things to worry about

My Worry List...

Mr Fox is going to start drinking again. Sober for the moment, but it's like a thunderstorm waiting to flood our home. He declared that he is done with AA, and wants to try a 'drink yourself sober' program. I am trying so very hard to be open minded and rational, but hell, this is complicated. and definitely filling my worry cup so that there isn't much room left for the rest of it.

Zika Virus. I've only read headlines, and avoided clicking to read the stories, but I know enough to know that I am scared that Zika Mosquitoes will get me (and a baby that I am not even pregnant with).

Transitional Kindergarten. I just found out that Little Fox might be eligible to start real school in September. I thought we had another year. It would save us SO MUCH money to enroll him in school a year earlier, but I just can't picture him in a traditional classroom, and wish that there was a program for play-based learning that left all the academic stuff for later.

Stillbirth. A local mama, someone I know professionally enough to say hit to at the grocery store, but not much beyond that, delivered her baby still. I cried for her very real loss. I cried for my fears. I cried all week. I cried at the event that was held. I cried in front of Little Fox. I cried and cried.

Work. Depending on things I can't talk about I may or may not have my current job come January. There are options, lots of them, and I usually don't worry about finding work. BUT, the thought of finding/starting a new job while on maternity leave (for the baby that I am not even pregnant with yet) sounds really overwhelming. The thought of being a stay at home mom is even more overwhelming.

The Car. We made the final payment on our car and it promptly started making a weird noise. The mechanic fixed the weird noise (in exchange to many months worth of a car payment) and warned us that the transmission was on its way out. We have plans to buy a bigger car (for the baby that I am not even pregnant with yet), but didn't want to make that investment unless and until we knew that we would need a bigger car.

The things I can't talk about here that impact my job. I love my job and I love the people I work with. They are amazing, incredible, effective, and compassionate professionals. They are being attacked by gross people who lack integrity. I've always been good at not taking those attacks personally, but not so much these days. I am taking it all personally, and getting angry, and sad. and disillusioned with the reality of my current profession.

A F'U' account. Some girlfriends at lunch recently brought up a fu account. I don't have one. I always thought that for sure I would have my own money in an account that only I had access to. But I don't. because I got complacent and didn't think that I needed one. But maybe I do. But I won't do it in secret. and it would be seriously complicated to bring up the topic with Mr Fox because of the issues in bullet one.  Just something to worry about.

okay and of course there is the Frozen Embryo Transfer that we have planned for later this month. I am consumed with anxiety about this transfer. about whether to transfer one or both of our embryos. about it working. about it not working. about responding to the meds leading up to transfer. about leaving Little Fox for the week that we will travel to the clinic for the transfer.

well. that about sums it up. It actually doesn't look as daunting when it is all written down here. It feels so much bigger when it is all in my head in the dark.

You are safe.

Maddy's death has shaken so many of us to our very core. It is all that anyone is talking about. We are confused, and upset, and angry, and scared. It is unimaginable. 

BUT at the same time I made a very deliberate decision yesterday to let my baby go play down the street with some neighborhood kids (including girls that we often pay as mother's helpers). It was the first time that we'd let him out 'alone'. 

I don't want to live or raise my child in a world that is scary. I want him to grow up knowing that people are generally good, that he is generally safe, that he belongs here in his community. THIS might be my only true desire for my child.

I grew up riding the city bus home from elementary school by myself, getting a hot dog at the transfer station, and then walking home from the final bus stop. Bad things happened to kids then too, but maybe it was different when we didn't watch those bad things play out hour by hour on social media.

I just read a facebook post about a fellow mom who was on the train with a few young girls. She helped them figure out their train stop and then got off the train to help them find the right street to proceed home on. It was this important reminder for me that there is good all around us. That the 'good' will always outweighs the 'bad'. I've been feeling like I needed to get all of these thoughts out and her post really helped frame my thoughts.

It wasn't 5 minutes before we could see my son with his friends through our back window. My husband and I just stood there watching him play, feeling all of the feelings that come with watching your child grow up before your very eyes. It feels like one of those moments that will be forever etched in my mind - standing huddled at the window watching intently as his head bobbed around and his laugh echoed off the neighboring houses. We decided it was time for me to walk over and bring him home. As I walked down the street he and his friends came skipping towards our house.

Kiss you babies tonight. And please remember that WE are the good in this world. Keep a loving and helpful eye on all of the other precious babies you encounter on your path.

BFN, Now What?

My beautiful little fox turned 3 years old in December and we decided it was time to start planning our FET cycles to use our two remaining frozen embryos. I started medications in December for a January transfer that was canceled at the last minute because my lining was not ready. So we signed up for the March transfer cycle. We doubled my meds, and everything was looking good. One of the blastocysts did not survive the thaw and we transferred the other one on March 20. I did a great job of being hopeful, but we got the call today that it is a negative result. 

I am disappointed, for sure. But its hitting me slowly, and the grief of it all is growing.

So now what? grieve, and spoil my son. and then we will have to make a decision about what to do next. 

To be honest, I had a hard time really getting exciting about it all in the first place, but I'm sure that a big part of that was the need to protect my heart from the total devastation that I felt with every BFN when we were trying to get pregnant originally. I keep rationalizing that our family is complete as it is, that we've already beat the odds and don't deserve to try again, that an only child will be fine because we have very close family friends he will grow up with, that the first year of having a baby was so hard and I'm not sure I could do it again (without ending up institutionalized). But then I know that I always wanted a big family, I can't imagine my life without my sisters. I want my son to have siblings to experience life with, I know how much my husband wants a second child, we are the only ones in our social circle who would have a single child, etc....

The thought of a full IVF cycle again is overwhelming, and the cost is not something that would be easy to swing. If we knew if was a sure thing I have no doubt we'd sign up tomorrow, but it is so hard to continue down a path where the odds are against you. 

Did we give it our best shot by using the two embryos? Can i live with that and feel like this is how our family is meant to be? Or is this a rollercoaster that we are not yet ready to get off of just yet? 

Thoughts and advice would be so appreciated. xoxo

a day for our family

Putting a call out for super sticky baby vibes! We have our Frozen Embryo Transfer tomorrow morning, and as much as I know the odds are against us, I can feel the hope creeping in deeper and deeper. 

Four years ago tomorrow was our embryo transfer that made me a mom, and eleven years ago tomorrow I married the love of my life. 

The day bodes well, but omg I am nervous.

How could I possibly deserve more than this?

Hang on tight

Here we go again!

It was inevitable. or so it felt.

and as terrified as I was, we made the call. I made the call.

And we sat in that office, listening to the Dr tell us about the two perfect grade A embryos that are sitting on ice. Our embryos. Two perfect little embryos that were waiting for us.

and our perfect little boy at home who keeps saying that he is going to be a big brother. because that is what all of his friends are saying. even though we keep correcting him and reminding him that he is a big cousin, not a big brother.

But here we are. Sitting in this office again. and I am terrified.

Terrified of the roller coaster. terrified of a 'maybe' pregnancy. terrified of an infant. Terrified.

and he says "we've had a 60% rate of twins this last year". and I might get up and run.

But I do want it. as scared as I am. I do.

and so here we are.

wish me luck, send me love, I don't even know what to ask for.
I just know that I'm back here again, and I'm hanging on tight.