It is an understatement to say that SIF comes with a whole pile of grief. But what continues to amaze me, even after all this time, is how many different kinds or themes of grief there are to contend with.
There is the obvious - the grief of not being able to conceive another child - which is a deep-seat biological kind of grief. The grief of a dream: letting go of a family of four. The grief of a biological sibling for the child I have means letting go of the fantasy of two fighting children at the dinner table. There is also the grief of so many relationships because so many, if not very few people, have been able to understand SIF at a very deep level. This has meant most relationships have been affected by my SIF and some may never recover from the gaping hole that SIF caused.
The longer time passes between the beginning of my SIF journey - when I first TTC - to the end - in what I call the aftermath of SIF - the more I have to face and deal with the grief of so many dreams within dreams. For example, now that my daughter is at school I've had to accept that there is no baby or toddler at home. That was a dream I had for a very long time. I have always wanted to "manage" two children - to be a taxi-Mum ferrying two kids to their various activities. It just feels so wrong that this isn't happening right now; that I've somehow ended up in this other life where I'm running around ferrying my daughter around my work. It was never in my plans to become a "working Mum" at this stage in my life.
I cannot help but continue to feel quite ripped off when I drop my daughter off at school only to drive off to work or to do something else with my day when I'm not working. There is still a very big hole which I fear will never be filled up again. Ever since I've allowed or given myself permission to grieve, as in really grieve this loss of a dream of another biological child: it has felt as though I having been walking around with a very open wound. I know in time I will find my way again and just need to continue to be as gentle and as kind as possible with myself - and patient. It will take as long as it takes to get through this.
I'm going away to Wellington tomorrow night for two nights - alone - I'm leaving my husband and daughter behind. Wellington is my hometown and I'm going for two reasons: for my Mum's birthday and to catch up with a friend who lives in Australia who will be in Wellington for a week who has a five month old baby that I haven't met yet. Of course when I planned this trip months ago, I was in a "good space" with SIF; now I'm feeling quite raw and vulnerable. I am looking forward to my weekend away in some ways; in other ways I feel I really need to be around those who are willing to support me right now and I know I probably won't get that support this weekend. In other words, the family and friends I will be seeing are for the most part quite unsympathetic about SIF.
The mother of the five month old went through five years of primary infertility but has no real empathy for SIF at this point in time. I will catch up with her and meet her baby but I will be applying self-preservation big-time. If there are any comments I'm not happy about; then my visit will be a short one. It is such a shame I feel this way as she is a close friend - but it's just where I'm at.
I revealed to a family member this week that I was struggling with things post-SIF - that I was trying to accept my reality. I'm not sorry I revealed my true feelings - as I was being honest. But it does still hurt when my pain is minimised. I will never get that. I will never get that thing of emotional pain/grief needing to be justified or compared with SIF. I cannot imagine another scenario where people would openly doubt your pain - Would you tell a mourning mother whose living child died that their pain isn't relevant because they have a surviving child? No you wouldn't!! To me it is the exact same thing. I/we are being told to "Buck up. Your pain isn't real. Move on. Get over it." That is the way I feel about it, anyway.
Yep - I am still in the angry stage of my grief!...I am aware there are more tears to come. I feel as though I am in the early stages of grieving my dream - because I got the answer of why another baby isn't coming - I got an ending, Now I am having to deal with it. So I am still not quite ready to fill out the adoption papers yet. I'm getting there. But I want to and need to be self-honest at this time and I do need the space to mourn. Besides, I've had to also accept and face some quavering thoughts around whether I have just missed the boat in regards to adding to our family. Living with menopause is a personal challenge and I feel it's going to take some time to adjust to that. I do wonder if adding a baby to the mix is the right thing now. Maybe it isn't.
Yet still, this annoying lingering longing for another child continues to haunt me each and every day. I still pray to God to take this desire away if it isn't meant to be. But it remains. I feel like the odd one out all over again when I pick my daughter up at school and all the other Mums have two or three children in tow. One MOTH (mother of three) who knows a little about my SIF was kind enough to acknowledge it must be hard having my only-child start school and I was able to say that yes it was, that actually I was going through some grief around that.
Sigh. I just want life to be simple and uncomplicated again. My job is a busy one yet probably a good post-SIF distraction. Maybe it is good I have somewhere to go three days a week. I have Thursdays and Fridays to fill and am starting to fall into a routine into what I want to do then. I even started a painting today so perhaps I will end up using my free-time to do some creative things at home. I just still need to just be and to sit still as much as possible. I seem to need to digest the last three and a half years right now. It's about finding inner peace midst all the turbulent feelings going on - not easy, but something I need to do.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
A selfish grief?
It has been such an interesting space that I have been in over the last couple of weeks. A place of slowing down, as much as possible and showering myself with as much self-love and self-care as I can to get to the other side of what I believe is probably the deepest layer of grief yet that I have had to face - the simple fact that I cannot conceive another child.
It is huge. I am acknowledging to and allowing myself to feel at the moment that it is huge. Previously, for three and a half years I minimised my pain and grief to appease others. I was able to share my grief in cyberspace, but in my real life, I got the speak-to-the-hand attitude just about always. What the hell? I mean with any other grief - the death of a relative, the end of a marriage or a relationship breakup it seems from the outside sympathy and empathy is offered. With primary infertility it is understood, though not completely accurately, but understood a little at least that to live with the curse of not being able to have any children at all is pretty damn painful. But when you have one child (or more) and want another and cannot have one - you are left in the dust that is secondary infertility utterly alone and abandoned most of the time. And I have had enough of being in the dust.
So, I have been speaking up. I have been starting small with friends I feel safe around. But I can feel it within me - this need to spread the word about secondary infertility and how heartbreaking it is to live with - not just for me - but for the women who will follow behind in my footsteps. It is not fair that we are treated as if we are been selfish/greedy/overdramatic/unappreciative of the child/children we have because - we want another child. Again - what the hell?!
I've been working the twelve steps around secondary infertility for a few months now and am on steps eight and nine unofficially. At this point I am making amends to me. I am allowing myself to feel the pain of SIF, warts and all as I tried to hold back for a long time how I really felt as on some level I believed the people out there that minimised my pain and said it really wasn't that big a deal. I internalised my pain. That is such a dangerous and destructive thing to do. At one point I felt as though I was going to be eaten alive with the pain of secondary infertility as it was way too much to carry on my own - hence why I ended up on antidepressants.
Well this time round, as I move through the aftermath of SIF, I will not allow myself to be drowned in my grief on my own. I have been reaching out to others and it has been a challenge as I am not someone who likes to ask for help. But I have to do it to get the compassion, love and understanding I so desperately need.
I will describe SIF as a loss from now on to those it is appropriate to share with. I am not going to announce it from the roof-tops or anything but at the same time, I went through this for three and a half years with the conclusion that I cannot conceive another child. It is huge. I will share what I feel comfortable disclosing if it comes up. I deserve to be heard, supported, understood as much as possible and most of all loved for who I am at this point of time because of where I have been. I am someone who needs strong emotional connections in my life - without them live feels empty and so very, very lonely. If we can't connect with those around us when we really need them, then we are going to struggle unnecessarily. I do get that some losses/big experiences in life we have to go through alone - but eventually, at some point, it is important to reconnect with those that say they care and love for us. I am trying to do that.
I have been talking to God a lot. I have also been listening to Him a lot. After I dropped my daughter off at school today I walked home past a group of MOTs. There were four of them, all chatting with their other-off-spring in a buggy or in their arms. And then there was me. Admittedly one of the Mums was the one I know who has adopted/fostered children locally. But the sight of the four of them in conversation as if they were in a club that I cannot join was painful . So I just walked on by as if my heart hadn't just exploded all over the pavement in front of them. I walked on pretending to embrace my Mum-of-oneness and my quiet walk home to my empty house on a beautiful Autumn day. I let the sadness come up after seeing those MOTs and waited for God to comfort me. I mean surely, after all this time, there has to be some light at the end of the tunnel. This is what I got: I know this isn't how you wanted it to be. But you will be okay.
It is huge. I am acknowledging to and allowing myself to feel at the moment that it is huge. Previously, for three and a half years I minimised my pain and grief to appease others. I was able to share my grief in cyberspace, but in my real life, I got the speak-to-the-hand attitude just about always. What the hell? I mean with any other grief - the death of a relative, the end of a marriage or a relationship breakup it seems from the outside sympathy and empathy is offered. With primary infertility it is understood, though not completely accurately, but understood a little at least that to live with the curse of not being able to have any children at all is pretty damn painful. But when you have one child (or more) and want another and cannot have one - you are left in the dust that is secondary infertility utterly alone and abandoned most of the time. And I have had enough of being in the dust.
So, I have been speaking up. I have been starting small with friends I feel safe around. But I can feel it within me - this need to spread the word about secondary infertility and how heartbreaking it is to live with - not just for me - but for the women who will follow behind in my footsteps. It is not fair that we are treated as if we are been selfish/greedy/overdramatic/unappreciative of the child/children we have because - we want another child. Again - what the hell?!
I've been working the twelve steps around secondary infertility for a few months now and am on steps eight and nine unofficially. At this point I am making amends to me. I am allowing myself to feel the pain of SIF, warts and all as I tried to hold back for a long time how I really felt as on some level I believed the people out there that minimised my pain and said it really wasn't that big a deal. I internalised my pain. That is such a dangerous and destructive thing to do. At one point I felt as though I was going to be eaten alive with the pain of secondary infertility as it was way too much to carry on my own - hence why I ended up on antidepressants.
Well this time round, as I move through the aftermath of SIF, I will not allow myself to be drowned in my grief on my own. I have been reaching out to others and it has been a challenge as I am not someone who likes to ask for help. But I have to do it to get the compassion, love and understanding I so desperately need.
I will describe SIF as a loss from now on to those it is appropriate to share with. I am not going to announce it from the roof-tops or anything but at the same time, I went through this for three and a half years with the conclusion that I cannot conceive another child. It is huge. I will share what I feel comfortable disclosing if it comes up. I deserve to be heard, supported, understood as much as possible and most of all loved for who I am at this point of time because of where I have been. I am someone who needs strong emotional connections in my life - without them live feels empty and so very, very lonely. If we can't connect with those around us when we really need them, then we are going to struggle unnecessarily. I do get that some losses/big experiences in life we have to go through alone - but eventually, at some point, it is important to reconnect with those that say they care and love for us. I am trying to do that.
I have been talking to God a lot. I have also been listening to Him a lot. After I dropped my daughter off at school today I walked home past a group of MOTs. There were four of them, all chatting with their other-off-spring in a buggy or in their arms. And then there was me. Admittedly one of the Mums was the one I know who has adopted/fostered children locally. But the sight of the four of them in conversation as if they were in a club that I cannot join was painful . So I just walked on by as if my heart hadn't just exploded all over the pavement in front of them. I walked on pretending to embrace my Mum-of-oneness and my quiet walk home to my empty house on a beautiful Autumn day. I let the sadness come up after seeing those MOTs and waited for God to comfort me. I mean surely, after all this time, there has to be some light at the end of the tunnel. This is what I got: I know this isn't how you wanted it to be. But you will be okay.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Letting go
After a week or so of rather intense grief; I feel as though I am travelling once again in calmer waters. There is a big gaping hole where my dreams of another biological child used to be. I am living with a broken heart. But I am looking backwards now at my three and a half years of SIF. I have perspective and a lot of reflection is going on. This tells me that I am moving forward.
Yesterday I saw an acquaintance I know who was at the education and preparation programme (for adoption) my husband and I went on last year as a parent who has adopted. I have been thinking of her of late as someone I could talk to about the adoption/the adoption process here in New Zealand. Anyway I put it out there and she was open to the idea so I will give her a call sometime soon and meet for a coffee.
I really believe I had to let go of having another biological child on quite a deep level to start up the adoption process again. Here in New Zealand you really are scruntinised as you go through the process and it is made quite clear from the beginning that you need to have finished TTC - it is crucial that you have moved on from that point. Every country seems to be different; but that is the way it is done here.
So I have the paperwork sitting here waiting for me to fill it in when I'm ready. I'm sure I will get to it in the next week or so. I am just so exhausted from all the grief that has come up lately that all I feel like doing is resting. So that is what I'm going to do.
I have reached out to three people over the last week when I was in the depths of despair and terrified of landing myself in another deep depression. This has really helped me. For the first time in a long time, I feel as though I have a wee support crew on hand. They are my husband, and two friends. I have shed a lot of tears and done a lot of talking. I ended up talking with one friend for three hours on the phone a couple of nights ago! SIF nearly ended our friendship more than once (she's a mother of two), so it felt as though some healing really took place between us and I was able to share at a much deeper level around SIF than I ever have before with her. I think it is because I am now post-SIF - not trying and hoping to be fertile anymore - just dealing with the fact that I'm not that I can perhaps be more open than I was able to be when in the midst of SIF. I am like the dumpee in a relationship who needs to talk and talk about it in order to move on. I am trying to get my head around my SIF journey from the perspective of someone who went through it - not somebody going through it.
I feel a Plan C emerging which isn't perhaps as scarey as it once was. Plan A was to have another biological child. Plan B was to adopt a child. And Plan C is just to exist as a one-child family. Basically I want to move on and be content with my life, however it looks. I have been praying to God on a daily basis to take away my desire for another child if that isn't His will for me. I can see a life with just one child would give us some freedom that we wouldn't have with two children. With my daughter now in school, there is opportunity for me to really do things for me during my week - be it through work/study/creative pursuits - who knows. Perhaps we could travel a bit more and I could fly in cousins to spend weekends with us.
Life just doesn't always turn out the way we hoped. Yet peace and contentment can be found once again. I do believe and hope for that.
Today at work a MOO (Mum of One) shared with me that she was worried she was pregnant. She's 45. She said it was "the last thing I need" and proceeded to tell me how awful it would be and how she wished she was in menopause so she wasn't at risk of getting pregnant. She stated that women are fertile until their periods stop - a common misconception (excuse the pun) out there. I kept my mouth zipped around SIF. But I did reveal I was in early menopause and how it wasn't that much fun with the symptoms. She's a bit of an office gossip so I really didn't want her to know our adoption plans.
All in all - I'm getting there. Continuing to take it easy and to treat myself like a friend. I'm pretty raw and feel as if I have just come out of a very turbulent relationship - a relationship in which I was holding it together for so long, only for things to fall apart. I am often amazed that infertility comes with the same level of heartbreak as a death or the end of a relationship.
A friend who finally conceived after 6 IVFs threw the "be grateful for the one you've got" line at me this week. I bit her head off via email! I opened up to her about my SIF - something I felt I could never do when she was going through primary infertility because of that awkward unspoken you-have-one-child-so-why-exactly-are-you-bitching-and-moaning dynamic ; only to be shut down. I hate that SIF is so misunderstood - by most.
I think it is unacceptable that women going through SIF have to mainly do it alone - and end up turning to online support. I worry that more women will end up on antidepressants because they are not supported in the way they need to be. In time, I feel I may instigate something around that - a way of setting up women with SIF with the support systems they need. Watch this space, I guess.
Yesterday I saw an acquaintance I know who was at the education and preparation programme (for adoption) my husband and I went on last year as a parent who has adopted. I have been thinking of her of late as someone I could talk to about the adoption/the adoption process here in New Zealand. Anyway I put it out there and she was open to the idea so I will give her a call sometime soon and meet for a coffee.
I really believe I had to let go of having another biological child on quite a deep level to start up the adoption process again. Here in New Zealand you really are scruntinised as you go through the process and it is made quite clear from the beginning that you need to have finished TTC - it is crucial that you have moved on from that point. Every country seems to be different; but that is the way it is done here.
So I have the paperwork sitting here waiting for me to fill it in when I'm ready. I'm sure I will get to it in the next week or so. I am just so exhausted from all the grief that has come up lately that all I feel like doing is resting. So that is what I'm going to do.
I have reached out to three people over the last week when I was in the depths of despair and terrified of landing myself in another deep depression. This has really helped me. For the first time in a long time, I feel as though I have a wee support crew on hand. They are my husband, and two friends. I have shed a lot of tears and done a lot of talking. I ended up talking with one friend for three hours on the phone a couple of nights ago! SIF nearly ended our friendship more than once (she's a mother of two), so it felt as though some healing really took place between us and I was able to share at a much deeper level around SIF than I ever have before with her. I think it is because I am now post-SIF - not trying and hoping to be fertile anymore - just dealing with the fact that I'm not that I can perhaps be more open than I was able to be when in the midst of SIF. I am like the dumpee in a relationship who needs to talk and talk about it in order to move on. I am trying to get my head around my SIF journey from the perspective of someone who went through it - not somebody going through it.
I feel a Plan C emerging which isn't perhaps as scarey as it once was. Plan A was to have another biological child. Plan B was to adopt a child. And Plan C is just to exist as a one-child family. Basically I want to move on and be content with my life, however it looks. I have been praying to God on a daily basis to take away my desire for another child if that isn't His will for me. I can see a life with just one child would give us some freedom that we wouldn't have with two children. With my daughter now in school, there is opportunity for me to really do things for me during my week - be it through work/study/creative pursuits - who knows. Perhaps we could travel a bit more and I could fly in cousins to spend weekends with us.
Life just doesn't always turn out the way we hoped. Yet peace and contentment can be found once again. I do believe and hope for that.
Today at work a MOO (Mum of One) shared with me that she was worried she was pregnant. She's 45. She said it was "the last thing I need" and proceeded to tell me how awful it would be and how she wished she was in menopause so she wasn't at risk of getting pregnant. She stated that women are fertile until their periods stop - a common misconception (excuse the pun) out there. I kept my mouth zipped around SIF. But I did reveal I was in early menopause and how it wasn't that much fun with the symptoms. She's a bit of an office gossip so I really didn't want her to know our adoption plans.
All in all - I'm getting there. Continuing to take it easy and to treat myself like a friend. I'm pretty raw and feel as if I have just come out of a very turbulent relationship - a relationship in which I was holding it together for so long, only for things to fall apart. I am often amazed that infertility comes with the same level of heartbreak as a death or the end of a relationship.
A friend who finally conceived after 6 IVFs threw the "be grateful for the one you've got" line at me this week. I bit her head off via email! I opened up to her about my SIF - something I felt I could never do when she was going through primary infertility because of that awkward unspoken you-have-one-child-so-why-exactly-are-you-bitching-and-moaning dynamic ; only to be shut down. I hate that SIF is so misunderstood - by most.
I think it is unacceptable that women going through SIF have to mainly do it alone - and end up turning to online support. I worry that more women will end up on antidepressants because they are not supported in the way they need to be. In time, I feel I may instigate something around that - a way of setting up women with SIF with the support systems they need. Watch this space, I guess.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Anchor Me
For some reason a New Zealand classic song: Anchor Me has been rocking around in my head today. It isn't a song I particularly like, even. But the lyrics seem appropriate right now as I pray to and beg God to help me through this rough post-SIF stage. The stage of accepting that all the hopes and dreams of the last three and a half years are gone - another biological child is not going to happen for us.
Anchor Me by Don McGlashan
Full fathom five
Someday I'll lie
Singing songs that come
From dead men's tongues
Anchor me, anchor me
As the compass turns
And the glass it falls
Where the storm clouds roll
And the gulls they call
Anchor me, anchor me, anchor me
Anchor me
In the middle of your deep blue sea, anchor me
Anchor me
In the middle of your deep blue sea, anchor me
Anchor me, anchor me
Let the salt spray lash
The shivering skin
Where the green waves crash
And the whirlpools spin
Anchor me, anchor me, anchor me
Anchor me
In the middle of your deep blue sea, anchor me
Anchor me
In the middle of your deep blue sea, anchor me
Anchor me
Where the Banshees cry
And the bells they sound
When you lift me high
When you pull me down
When you pull me down
When you pull me down
Anchor me
In the middle of your deep blue sea, anchor me
Anchor me
In the middle of your deep blue sea, anchor me
Anchor me, anchor me
Anchor me, anchor me
In the middle of your deep blue sea, your deep blue sea
In the middle of your deep blue sea, your deep blue sea
Anchor me, anchor me
Anchor me
Anchor me
Anchor me
I have also been thinking of The Three A's lately - awareness, acceptance and action. (from recovery). I've had the awareness for quite some time that conception was very, very unlikely for us. But I couldn't start accepting it until I got an actual diagnosis - heard it from the horse's mouth as such. Giving myself some time to grieve is helping with my acceptance though I think there are many more tears to come. Restarting the adoption process while moving through this grief is my action step - I am letting go of what has been and into a new phase.
I have really been reaching out this week outside of the comfort of my SIF cyber-friends. It has been hard and very humbling but I had to do it - need to do it - to get through this intense grief. I feel I would either go insane or end up on antidepressants again if I had to do this on my own without any outside support. So, I have created a support network of people I think can help me. They are all friends I trust - who care for me a lot. I even sent one friend this link about How To Support A Friend with Secondary Infertility to get my point across. I've had to get over people perhaps not getting SIF and have just been asking them to be there as best as they can.
I popped into work today (as I am officially off work this week being the second week of the school hols) and ended up having a one and a half hour chat with someone from the IF support group I started. It was good to be able to share honestly with her around things. I also phoned a friend in recovery today in tears. My grief this week has consumed me and made it hard to do much. This has been very hard on my daughter. But I'm trying to give myself a bit of slack and to see that I am doing the best that I can. I have tried to keep her school holidays as interesting as possible but some days I haven't been able to do much at all.
Anchor Me by Don McGlashan
Full fathom five
Someday I'll lie
Singing songs that come
From dead men's tongues
Anchor me, anchor me
As the compass turns
And the glass it falls
Where the storm clouds roll
And the gulls they call
Anchor me, anchor me, anchor me
Anchor me
In the middle of your deep blue sea, anchor me
Anchor me
In the middle of your deep blue sea, anchor me
Anchor me, anchor me
Let the salt spray lash
The shivering skin
Where the green waves crash
And the whirlpools spin
Anchor me, anchor me, anchor me
Anchor me
In the middle of your deep blue sea, anchor me
Anchor me
In the middle of your deep blue sea, anchor me
Anchor me
Where the Banshees cry
And the bells they sound
When you lift me high
When you pull me down
When you pull me down
When you pull me down
Anchor me
In the middle of your deep blue sea, anchor me
Anchor me
In the middle of your deep blue sea, anchor me
Anchor me, anchor me
Anchor me, anchor me
In the middle of your deep blue sea, your deep blue sea
In the middle of your deep blue sea, your deep blue sea
Anchor me, anchor me
Anchor me
Anchor me
Anchor me
I have also been thinking of The Three A's lately - awareness, acceptance and action. (from recovery). I've had the awareness for quite some time that conception was very, very unlikely for us. But I couldn't start accepting it until I got an actual diagnosis - heard it from the horse's mouth as such. Giving myself some time to grieve is helping with my acceptance though I think there are many more tears to come. Restarting the adoption process while moving through this grief is my action step - I am letting go of what has been and into a new phase.
I have really been reaching out this week outside of the comfort of my SIF cyber-friends. It has been hard and very humbling but I had to do it - need to do it - to get through this intense grief. I feel I would either go insane or end up on antidepressants again if I had to do this on my own without any outside support. So, I have created a support network of people I think can help me. They are all friends I trust - who care for me a lot. I even sent one friend this link about How To Support A Friend with Secondary Infertility to get my point across. I've had to get over people perhaps not getting SIF and have just been asking them to be there as best as they can.
I popped into work today (as I am officially off work this week being the second week of the school hols) and ended up having a one and a half hour chat with someone from the IF support group I started. It was good to be able to share honestly with her around things. I also phoned a friend in recovery today in tears. My grief this week has consumed me and made it hard to do much. This has been very hard on my daughter. But I'm trying to give myself a bit of slack and to see that I am doing the best that I can. I have tried to keep her school holidays as interesting as possible but some days I haven't been able to do much at all.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Flying solo
During one of my recent counselling sessions, my counsellor commented that some losses we are just meant to go through alone in life. It is an opportunity to grow - and we wouldn't grow quite so much if we didn't have to delve so deep. She said words to that effect, anyway.
Well three and a half years of SIF certainly has been all about flying solo. It has been the strangest time of having to accept that for the most part, my friends and family have been unable to support me in the way I would have liked and hoped. My SIF angst has caused me to feel so desperate and needy in many of my close relationships - and when I realised my needs weren't going to be met - I shut down.
I have been blogging for two and a half years and joined Dailystrength around the same time. My regular online posts and journals have given me a space to vent and share and to connect with other women in similar positions. I am so grateful to have made some pretty amazing friendships in this time. Yet it has always hurt and bothered me, that those outside of my cyber-world; have not being able to be there for me. Don't get me wrong; I have been supported by most in the best way they have been able to. But I have often felt alone for weeks and months in my SIF funk because many were unable to comprehend the true devastation I was going through and how long-term it was.
Now, as I go through this post-diagnosis phase, I am alerting those who love and care for me in my everyday life that I am going through an intense period of grief. It is only a handful of people I am disclosing this too - as I feel I need a support system. In the meantime I am letting go of a lot of people for now out there - the ones that neither I nor them feel comfortable having exchanges about SIF. Those friendships may or may not pick up again once all this is over (whenever that might be!) - I'm not sure. I just need to give myself as much time and energy at the moment and am having to be selfish within my relationships.
But this self-care is paying off. I know it is. The night before last I had a huge gut-wrenching cry with my husband around my diagnosis - around not being able to conceive again. And then I had another one later that night around losing my ovary. I don't think I have grieved losing my ovary before. I didn't know it was going to be removed - so it was a total surprise to wake up from a c-section to find out it had gone. Five years on and I'm still processing that loss.
Yesterday I made two phone-calls that symbolise the beginning and the end of a two different SIF chapters. One was to the infertility clinic I went to. I wasn't sure if I was meant to have a follow-up appointment as after my last consult, in which a diagnosis of perimenopause was given, I had a couple of blood tests. I got the results which confirmed my diagnosis. The Dr I saw is leaving soon so I asked if he could write me a letter with my diagnosis on it. I haven't had anything in writing and think it's important to have that for future contact with the medical world - especially if I end up seeking help for my menopausal symptoms.
The second phone-call was to adoption services. I didn't end up talking to the social worker we were assigned to- but to the receptionist. She has sent out two forms (that we already have, but misplaced during the shift) that we need to fill out before we can have our next consult with a social worker. Because there has been a gap in proceedings; we may end up with a different social worker which is okay - we have met both of them (there are only two). The forms we have to fill out are quite involved - one is a financial one and the other is about our extended families - where we come from, basically.
Originally I was going to wait til June til we picked things up again but I am at the point of wanting to get this adoption process over and done with. I want to be on the books by the end of the year. By then we would have tried everything in our power - trying to conceive naturally, trying to conceive with using alternate methods and also with medical help - and then adoption. In September it will be four years of praying for another shot at motherhood. In two years time - the time-frame we plan to be in the prospective adoptive parents pool - it would have been six years of waiting to add to our family. I really don't think I have it in me to wait much longer than two more years. Surely Gods Will will be speaking volumes if in two years we aren't picked by a birth family!
There are so many emotions in the mix right now. I am not particularly excited to be starting up the adoption process again - for me it does open up a huge can of worms. I know there is the possibility of a baby joining our family at the end of it all - but there is also the possibility that that won't happen. The possibility we might not get picked causes me to feel extremely vulerable as I feel as though we are playing our last card to parenthood for the second time. After that there are no more options for us and that is pretty scarey.
Well three and a half years of SIF certainly has been all about flying solo. It has been the strangest time of having to accept that for the most part, my friends and family have been unable to support me in the way I would have liked and hoped. My SIF angst has caused me to feel so desperate and needy in many of my close relationships - and when I realised my needs weren't going to be met - I shut down.
I have been blogging for two and a half years and joined Dailystrength around the same time. My regular online posts and journals have given me a space to vent and share and to connect with other women in similar positions. I am so grateful to have made some pretty amazing friendships in this time. Yet it has always hurt and bothered me, that those outside of my cyber-world; have not being able to be there for me. Don't get me wrong; I have been supported by most in the best way they have been able to. But I have often felt alone for weeks and months in my SIF funk because many were unable to comprehend the true devastation I was going through and how long-term it was.
Now, as I go through this post-diagnosis phase, I am alerting those who love and care for me in my everyday life that I am going through an intense period of grief. It is only a handful of people I am disclosing this too - as I feel I need a support system. In the meantime I am letting go of a lot of people for now out there - the ones that neither I nor them feel comfortable having exchanges about SIF. Those friendships may or may not pick up again once all this is over (whenever that might be!) - I'm not sure. I just need to give myself as much time and energy at the moment and am having to be selfish within my relationships.
But this self-care is paying off. I know it is. The night before last I had a huge gut-wrenching cry with my husband around my diagnosis - around not being able to conceive again. And then I had another one later that night around losing my ovary. I don't think I have grieved losing my ovary before. I didn't know it was going to be removed - so it was a total surprise to wake up from a c-section to find out it had gone. Five years on and I'm still processing that loss.
Yesterday I made two phone-calls that symbolise the beginning and the end of a two different SIF chapters. One was to the infertility clinic I went to. I wasn't sure if I was meant to have a follow-up appointment as after my last consult, in which a diagnosis of perimenopause was given, I had a couple of blood tests. I got the results which confirmed my diagnosis. The Dr I saw is leaving soon so I asked if he could write me a letter with my diagnosis on it. I haven't had anything in writing and think it's important to have that for future contact with the medical world - especially if I end up seeking help for my menopausal symptoms.
The second phone-call was to adoption services. I didn't end up talking to the social worker we were assigned to- but to the receptionist. She has sent out two forms (that we already have, but misplaced during the shift) that we need to fill out before we can have our next consult with a social worker. Because there has been a gap in proceedings; we may end up with a different social worker which is okay - we have met both of them (there are only two). The forms we have to fill out are quite involved - one is a financial one and the other is about our extended families - where we come from, basically.
Originally I was going to wait til June til we picked things up again but I am at the point of wanting to get this adoption process over and done with. I want to be on the books by the end of the year. By then we would have tried everything in our power - trying to conceive naturally, trying to conceive with using alternate methods and also with medical help - and then adoption. In September it will be four years of praying for another shot at motherhood. In two years time - the time-frame we plan to be in the prospective adoptive parents pool - it would have been six years of waiting to add to our family. I really don't think I have it in me to wait much longer than two more years. Surely Gods Will will be speaking volumes if in two years we aren't picked by a birth family!
There are so many emotions in the mix right now. I am not particularly excited to be starting up the adoption process again - for me it does open up a huge can of worms. I know there is the possibility of a baby joining our family at the end of it all - but there is also the possibility that that won't happen. The possibility we might not get picked causes me to feel extremely vulerable as I feel as though we are playing our last card to parenthood for the second time. After that there are no more options for us and that is pretty scarey.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
I've got to show (myself) a little kindness
One of the surprises of this whole SIF/early menopause journey for me is the emotional and spiritual lessons that come with it. It is about so much more than grief and loss and a body that is reproductively challenged (!). It is about self-love, self-worth and self-acceptance . It is an opportunity to work on ones coping skills. It is also a time of exploring ones faith - which is a very personal and individual journey. As relationships are stretched often beyond their capabilities - it is a time of learning to stand on one's own feet while learning to accept what help - if any - friends and family are able to offer.
Yes, this chapter - or should I say novel, has been about many things. Basically it has been a life-changing event that has touched my life on every level possible. It has all happened for a reason. I still believe that, even though I might not like it all that much a lot of the time.
Lately I've had to accept the fact that I haven't treated myself very well over the last three plus years. I am not going to beat myself up, however. I am going to show myself some compassion. I guess I just didn't know how to cope with the obvious yet undiagnosed medical reality that I could no longer conceive - that my fertility days were over. So I chose to keep on keeping on and tried to keep myself as busy as possible, not allowing SIF to consume me completely as it was threatening to. Two years ago I knew adoption was our only hope to add to our family, so I knew that for a future profile that we would have to write, that I couldn't get too depressed. Six months on anti-depressants was forgiveable, I thought from the eyes of a birth family. But any longer, then I feared it could jeopardise our chances of being picked.
So I pulled myself together and got myself through my dark phase of SIF by joining a gym and working on a Sunday. I functioned as per normal - continued to do all the meals and the dishes and to mother my daughter like I always have. Although there were many red faces on Dailystrength; from the outside no-one would know that my heart was broken.
I'm not sure what clicked into place recently. But I guess a few weeks post-diagnosis; I finally have the permission from myself - no-one else - to let go of all I tried to do and be during my SIF fight. Even though I knew I had burned all my bridges medically - that there was nowhere else for me to go for biological help - I continued to "fight" SIF. I went on this no-caffeine/no-alcohol and no-sugar stint to prove to myself and to God that I was willing to give up a lot in the name of another child, if that's what it took. I was kind of like the crazy woman who walks around with a lead with no dog attached to it because she's not ready to accept her beloved pet is dead. I didn't want to accept that my fight with SIF was over - so I kept on fighting! It was all kind of mad when I look back at it all now.
Though like I say, I am choosing to cut myself a bit of slack. I was just where I was at and that was where I needed to be. I got the answer to my SIF when I was meant to.
So post-SIF, I am having to work out who I am. I'm trying to make sense of this whole menopause deal while letting go of all I did and all I became in my desperation for another child. We had an IF meeting this week and the topic was Hope. It was interesting hearing all the other women share around different procedures and ovulation etc. It really is like old news for me. I have been there and done that - all the charting/blood tests/provera/clomid/surgery/loads of BFNs/herbs/acupuncture/creative visualisations/yoga/mediatation etc etc. Being at that meeting was like a review of the last three and a half years. All that time and energy. All those hopes and dreams.
The thing is I tried all of the above because it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. One thing led to the next and I always seemed to know someone who had had success with whatever-I-was-doing-at-the-time. There was always Hope even though this gnawing, sicky feeling in my stomach was telling me It's not going to work for you, honey. When my herbalist thought my periods were erratic for reasons other than early menopause - I chose to go along with the ride - even though in my heart I knew she was wrong. My Drs all thought I was too young for menopause. My gyno said You've conceived once; you will again. Wrong, wrong, wrong people!
Sigh. But I cannot change what happened and how it happened. It's time to let it go. I don't want this SIF era to linger on too long. I do however accept that I might have to lower my previous expectations of getting completely over SIF/early menopause. Something tells me, with new perspective and maturity of late, that I will have to accept that I will have to learn how to integrate this experience with my life. In other words, it is an experience too deep to think it could ever be completely shelved at some point.
I do think I am at the beginning of this intergration - and it is going to take time. I have given myself three months to be really kind to myself - to shower myself with self-love and self-care so that I can get through this. In the back of my diary I have written a wee list and I need to do one of these every day:
* Have a bath
* Go for a walk
* Go do a Bodybalance class (Yoga/Pilates)
* Journal (privately - outside of my blog/Dailystrength)
* Have an early night and read in bed
I've been doing this for about the last three days and it is helping me a lot. I seem to need a lot of personal space right now and doing one of the above every day meets that need for alone time.
There are some other basic self-care things that I haven't done for a while that I will add to the mix on a regular basis too such as having a massage/having a nap during the day (when my daughter is at school and I'm not working!) and going to a cafe alone.
I kind of think I am treating myself as if I have just been through a major break-up! If I want chocolate I will eat it now and not deny it from myself. Today I enjoyed my second cup of caffeinated tea - I had one on Thursday too - as I hadn't had real tea for three years!! It seems so crazy that I took some of life's small pleasures out of my diet. It was almost as though I was punishing my body for miscarrying. I knew it was my last pregnancy and decided to withdraw all the possible miscarriage culprits - sugar/alcohol/caffeine. Yet of course we all know women who overdose in all of these vices and produce a multitude of children. That theory of mine was just a little distorted!
The funny thing is too, after miscarrying I was unable to give myself what I really needed. If it was a good friend of mine who had miscarried - I would have offered a cup of tea, a biscuit - and maybe a glass of wine. But I couldn't do that for myself. I shut down instead.
So life feels a little less ridgid right now though I am experimenting with where I want to go diet-wise now I've loosened the reins as such! I lost about 6/7 kg when I gave up all those vices and have to say, I have enjoyed going down a dress size. But, as someone who has had previous food and alcohol issues - in the sense of over-indulgence - it's almost as though I had to swing to the extreme of controlled food and alcohol intake for a while because I knew I was going through a vulnerable period in my life. I guess I didn't trust myself and didn't want to hide my pain through binge-eating or drinking. Ironically though, I hid some of my pain by being so controlling.
Something that came to mind of late is a recovery term which is used to describe alcoholism; The Three C's - I didn't cause it, I can't control it and I can't cure it. That has been my journey with SIF/early menopause. It is not my fault I lost an ovary and entered early menopause - there was nothing I could do to change that. Nothing.
I went through a phase of reading The Secret and hoping I could will my body - and mind - back into being fertile again but all that did was make me feel bad that I was having negative thoughts to cause infertilty. According to The Secret, I was telling myself I was infertile. Well that line of thinking didn't work for me - it is much easier for me to go with God's Will. I have followed Him all the way through - I was guided from one step to the next til I finally got the answer I was looking for recently. Now I just need a bit of time to reconcile the last three and a half years with where I am now.
Yes, this chapter - or should I say novel, has been about many things. Basically it has been a life-changing event that has touched my life on every level possible. It has all happened for a reason. I still believe that, even though I might not like it all that much a lot of the time.
Lately I've had to accept the fact that I haven't treated myself very well over the last three plus years. I am not going to beat myself up, however. I am going to show myself some compassion. I guess I just didn't know how to cope with the obvious yet undiagnosed medical reality that I could no longer conceive - that my fertility days were over. So I chose to keep on keeping on and tried to keep myself as busy as possible, not allowing SIF to consume me completely as it was threatening to. Two years ago I knew adoption was our only hope to add to our family, so I knew that for a future profile that we would have to write, that I couldn't get too depressed. Six months on anti-depressants was forgiveable, I thought from the eyes of a birth family. But any longer, then I feared it could jeopardise our chances of being picked.
So I pulled myself together and got myself through my dark phase of SIF by joining a gym and working on a Sunday. I functioned as per normal - continued to do all the meals and the dishes and to mother my daughter like I always have. Although there were many red faces on Dailystrength; from the outside no-one would know that my heart was broken.
I'm not sure what clicked into place recently. But I guess a few weeks post-diagnosis; I finally have the permission from myself - no-one else - to let go of all I tried to do and be during my SIF fight. Even though I knew I had burned all my bridges medically - that there was nowhere else for me to go for biological help - I continued to "fight" SIF. I went on this no-caffeine/no-alcohol and no-sugar stint to prove to myself and to God that I was willing to give up a lot in the name of another child, if that's what it took. I was kind of like the crazy woman who walks around with a lead with no dog attached to it because she's not ready to accept her beloved pet is dead. I didn't want to accept that my fight with SIF was over - so I kept on fighting! It was all kind of mad when I look back at it all now.
Though like I say, I am choosing to cut myself a bit of slack. I was just where I was at and that was where I needed to be. I got the answer to my SIF when I was meant to.
So post-SIF, I am having to work out who I am. I'm trying to make sense of this whole menopause deal while letting go of all I did and all I became in my desperation for another child. We had an IF meeting this week and the topic was Hope. It was interesting hearing all the other women share around different procedures and ovulation etc. It really is like old news for me. I have been there and done that - all the charting/blood tests/provera/clomid/surgery/loads of BFNs/herbs/acupuncture/creative visualisations/yoga/mediatation etc etc. Being at that meeting was like a review of the last three and a half years. All that time and energy. All those hopes and dreams.
The thing is I tried all of the above because it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. One thing led to the next and I always seemed to know someone who had had success with whatever-I-was-doing-at-the-time. There was always Hope even though this gnawing, sicky feeling in my stomach was telling me It's not going to work for you, honey. When my herbalist thought my periods were erratic for reasons other than early menopause - I chose to go along with the ride - even though in my heart I knew she was wrong. My Drs all thought I was too young for menopause. My gyno said You've conceived once; you will again. Wrong, wrong, wrong people!
Sigh. But I cannot change what happened and how it happened. It's time to let it go. I don't want this SIF era to linger on too long. I do however accept that I might have to lower my previous expectations of getting completely over SIF/early menopause. Something tells me, with new perspective and maturity of late, that I will have to accept that I will have to learn how to integrate this experience with my life. In other words, it is an experience too deep to think it could ever be completely shelved at some point.
I do think I am at the beginning of this intergration - and it is going to take time. I have given myself three months to be really kind to myself - to shower myself with self-love and self-care so that I can get through this. In the back of my diary I have written a wee list and I need to do one of these every day:
* Have a bath
* Go for a walk
* Go do a Bodybalance class (Yoga/Pilates)
* Journal (privately - outside of my blog/Dailystrength)
* Have an early night and read in bed
I've been doing this for about the last three days and it is helping me a lot. I seem to need a lot of personal space right now and doing one of the above every day meets that need for alone time.
There are some other basic self-care things that I haven't done for a while that I will add to the mix on a regular basis too such as having a massage/having a nap during the day (when my daughter is at school and I'm not working!) and going to a cafe alone.
I kind of think I am treating myself as if I have just been through a major break-up! If I want chocolate I will eat it now and not deny it from myself. Today I enjoyed my second cup of caffeinated tea - I had one on Thursday too - as I hadn't had real tea for three years!! It seems so crazy that I took some of life's small pleasures out of my diet. It was almost as though I was punishing my body for miscarrying. I knew it was my last pregnancy and decided to withdraw all the possible miscarriage culprits - sugar/alcohol/caffeine. Yet of course we all know women who overdose in all of these vices and produce a multitude of children. That theory of mine was just a little distorted!
The funny thing is too, after miscarrying I was unable to give myself what I really needed. If it was a good friend of mine who had miscarried - I would have offered a cup of tea, a biscuit - and maybe a glass of wine. But I couldn't do that for myself. I shut down instead.
So life feels a little less ridgid right now though I am experimenting with where I want to go diet-wise now I've loosened the reins as such! I lost about 6/7 kg when I gave up all those vices and have to say, I have enjoyed going down a dress size. But, as someone who has had previous food and alcohol issues - in the sense of over-indulgence - it's almost as though I had to swing to the extreme of controlled food and alcohol intake for a while because I knew I was going through a vulnerable period in my life. I guess I didn't trust myself and didn't want to hide my pain through binge-eating or drinking. Ironically though, I hid some of my pain by being so controlling.
Something that came to mind of late is a recovery term which is used to describe alcoholism; The Three C's - I didn't cause it, I can't control it and I can't cure it. That has been my journey with SIF/early menopause. It is not my fault I lost an ovary and entered early menopause - there was nothing I could do to change that. Nothing.
I went through a phase of reading The Secret and hoping I could will my body - and mind - back into being fertile again but all that did was make me feel bad that I was having negative thoughts to cause infertilty. According to The Secret, I was telling myself I was infertile. Well that line of thinking didn't work for me - it is much easier for me to go with God's Will. I have followed Him all the way through - I was guided from one step to the next til I finally got the answer I was looking for recently. Now I just need a bit of time to reconcile the last three and a half years with where I am now.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
I just want to crawl under the duvet
It has been a tougb time of late. I know I am grappling with acceptance around going through perimenopause. I want to face it but I don't like it. It isn't where I want to be in life: learning how to live with menopausal symptoms.
I feel as if God wants me to go deeper into this journey that started three and a half years ago when I first started TTC our second child. Even though I don't want to dwell on SIF; there is no denying that perimenopause and SIF are interconnected, however I look at it. However, I feel as if I am moving through SIF to get to the bottom of what caused it: to grab the bull (perimenopause) by the horns as such.
I am in a place where I have limited resources to deal with my own stuff so have little to give right now. I kind of feel like the Last One Standing in the SIF group on Dailystrength. Over the last two and a half years I've watched several friends get pregnant; only to lose touch with them eventually - if not immediately. I watched God perform a few miracles and hoped, rather desperately, that God might have something up His sleeve for me. But I knew, every time someone got a BFP; that a BFN was the only thing on the cards for me.
When I went on anti-depressants for six months, I really tried to hold it together. I was diagnosed with mild depression yet not once did I hide under the duvet and try to escape from the world. I thought if I did it might indicate that I really wasn't such a great mother - if I couldn't be present for the one child that I did have - it was proof that I didn't deserve another child. So I carried on as best as I possibly could; even though I was barely functioning some days.
A year on post being on anti-depressants, I find myself in yet another rough spot. But this time I don't want to pretend that I'm ok. It's almost though I want to give up the fight. I've had such a strict lifestyle in a sense over the last two and a bit years - ever since it became painfully obvious that I couldn't conceive. Although I was waiting for the medical evidence; I knew, I have known for a good couple of years. I changed my life to accomodate the grief that was consuming me. I went to the gym and got a Sunday job to help distract myself from the pain.
But I starved myself from living, really living in some ways - I took caffeine/alcohol and sugar out of my diet. I went to the gym for stress managment. I tried to manage my pain in a healthy way - only once having a big night out when I went away one weekend. But apart from that, I thought the best way to face SIF was head-on. Sure, I have revealed some pretty intense feelings over the years - but I walked around with those feelings rattling inside, never succumbing to the place I really wanted to go - I really wanted to hide.
I feel as though I am going through a big emotional backlash post SIF-diagnosis where I want to binge eat and drink and hide under the duvet for a very long time. It's understandable, right? I mean, I have only just recently been told by an infertility specialist that I am in perimenopause. So I need time for that sink it. Time to accept that is where I'm at.
I have been on the verge of tears for days and a couple of lots of news from good friends that they are pregnant with their second children has been bad timing. They both have had IF issues and have been through a lot. I am happy for them - but sad for me. And angry at God. (once again). Will it ever be my turn? Even going down the adoption route; I have to wonder; Will it actually happen for us? Will we be picked? If I knew we had a new addition coming in a year or so - then I perhaps would handle this uprooting of my SIF grief differently. But that is all part of this path isn't it - the not knowing.
My menopausal symptoms seem to bring out the worst in me. It is kind of like having PMS - I am just more tired/more anxious/more stressed. I am trying my best to treat myself like a best friend and to do kind things - such as going to bed early. I had a couple of glasses of wine the other night while watching a chick flick with my Mum and totally pigged on Easter eggs at Easter. I just seem to need to let myself go at the moment. I was going to go to the gym on the way to the infertility support group meeting tonight but might give it a miss and go for a quiet walk instead. Peace and solitude - I seem to be craving it in multitudes.
I am struggling in my job which isn't helping things. My job was kind of my consolation prize for not having a second child at home - and I don't know if I even like it that much! It comes with lots of stress and I work way more hours than I am paid for. The extra hours in the evening put strain on my family as my daughter with her autism craves stability and routine and me being out of the house too much throws her off.
Having said that, I am finding it really hard to be present with my daughter today. I have shamefully put the tv on just to get some space - so I can write here. Sometimes I think perhaps God really does know best and maybe two children would be a struggle for me with my hormonal issues. I just don't seem to have the time or energy for anyone at this point. A day or even a week under the duvet would be good!
Without intending to, I seem to sometimes become a support person for people and this is hard when I need to fall apart myself. At times like this, it feels as if there is nowwhere to go. Nobody seems to understand premature menopause in my corner of the world. And as for SIF - I am not up to revealing my pain and having misunderstandings/insensitives thrown back at me. So what do I do? I withdraw and it is killing me.
To top things off it is school holidays here so the growing families are out in force. Yesterday my daughter and I caught the bus into town and there were families of two, three and four everywhere. Of course I bumped in many MOTs and MOTHs I know. I just about slapped a MOT who complained about being home with her two children all holidays! I have to apply self-preservation in the holidays which is often when my SIF stuff is triggered.
Tomorrow my daughter and I are going to spend the day with a good friend of mine. She is in her mid-60s and is like a mother-figure to me and always accepts me; whatever state I am. She had fpur children and two have died as adults so she gets loss. My daughter enjoys spending time out there too - she and her husband and their dogs and birds live by the beach - it is always a relaxing place to go and somewhere I try to take my daughter once every school holidays.
I am a mess. I know it. One of my Mum's friends lost a spouse recently. Apparently he was found out of it in his bed after a heavy night's drinking shortly after the funeral. It's sad - but understandable. We all respond to grief in different ways. I guess this time round my grief is a little less controlled and I am giving myself the time and space to feel what I need to feel. I am giving myself permission to fall, trusting that eventually I will stand again.
I feel as though I went to war with SIF and now I'm out of it, I have more battles to face. But the battles post-SIF constantly touch on some of my SIF stuff. I do think of us all facing SIF as soldiers going to war. But some soldiers come out more scathed than others: Two soldiers go to war, Soldier A and Soldier B - and they both come back home with damaged legs. Soldier A gets to walk again, after a lot of physio. Soldier B's legs are beyond repair and so he has to adapt to a life in a wheelchair. Neither of them will forget the war. But for Soldier A, life carries on eventually. Soldier B has a much longer recovery and has to live with a permanent loss - that of not being able to walk again. That has been my journey. SIF was my war. Infertility is my permanent loss. And perimenopause is the new life I am having to adapt to. One day I will accept it; but I feel as though I have a long way to go.
I feel as if God wants me to go deeper into this journey that started three and a half years ago when I first started TTC our second child. Even though I don't want to dwell on SIF; there is no denying that perimenopause and SIF are interconnected, however I look at it. However, I feel as if I am moving through SIF to get to the bottom of what caused it: to grab the bull (perimenopause) by the horns as such.
I am in a place where I have limited resources to deal with my own stuff so have little to give right now. I kind of feel like the Last One Standing in the SIF group on Dailystrength. Over the last two and a half years I've watched several friends get pregnant; only to lose touch with them eventually - if not immediately. I watched God perform a few miracles and hoped, rather desperately, that God might have something up His sleeve for me. But I knew, every time someone got a BFP; that a BFN was the only thing on the cards for me.
When I went on anti-depressants for six months, I really tried to hold it together. I was diagnosed with mild depression yet not once did I hide under the duvet and try to escape from the world. I thought if I did it might indicate that I really wasn't such a great mother - if I couldn't be present for the one child that I did have - it was proof that I didn't deserve another child. So I carried on as best as I possibly could; even though I was barely functioning some days.
A year on post being on anti-depressants, I find myself in yet another rough spot. But this time I don't want to pretend that I'm ok. It's almost though I want to give up the fight. I've had such a strict lifestyle in a sense over the last two and a bit years - ever since it became painfully obvious that I couldn't conceive. Although I was waiting for the medical evidence; I knew, I have known for a good couple of years. I changed my life to accomodate the grief that was consuming me. I went to the gym and got a Sunday job to help distract myself from the pain.
But I starved myself from living, really living in some ways - I took caffeine/alcohol and sugar out of my diet. I went to the gym for stress managment. I tried to manage my pain in a healthy way - only once having a big night out when I went away one weekend. But apart from that, I thought the best way to face SIF was head-on. Sure, I have revealed some pretty intense feelings over the years - but I walked around with those feelings rattling inside, never succumbing to the place I really wanted to go - I really wanted to hide.
I feel as though I am going through a big emotional backlash post SIF-diagnosis where I want to binge eat and drink and hide under the duvet for a very long time. It's understandable, right? I mean, I have only just recently been told by an infertility specialist that I am in perimenopause. So I need time for that sink it. Time to accept that is where I'm at.
I have been on the verge of tears for days and a couple of lots of news from good friends that they are pregnant with their second children has been bad timing. They both have had IF issues and have been through a lot. I am happy for them - but sad for me. And angry at God. (once again). Will it ever be my turn? Even going down the adoption route; I have to wonder; Will it actually happen for us? Will we be picked? If I knew we had a new addition coming in a year or so - then I perhaps would handle this uprooting of my SIF grief differently. But that is all part of this path isn't it - the not knowing.
My menopausal symptoms seem to bring out the worst in me. It is kind of like having PMS - I am just more tired/more anxious/more stressed. I am trying my best to treat myself like a best friend and to do kind things - such as going to bed early. I had a couple of glasses of wine the other night while watching a chick flick with my Mum and totally pigged on Easter eggs at Easter. I just seem to need to let myself go at the moment. I was going to go to the gym on the way to the infertility support group meeting tonight but might give it a miss and go for a quiet walk instead. Peace and solitude - I seem to be craving it in multitudes.
I am struggling in my job which isn't helping things. My job was kind of my consolation prize for not having a second child at home - and I don't know if I even like it that much! It comes with lots of stress and I work way more hours than I am paid for. The extra hours in the evening put strain on my family as my daughter with her autism craves stability and routine and me being out of the house too much throws her off.
Having said that, I am finding it really hard to be present with my daughter today. I have shamefully put the tv on just to get some space - so I can write here. Sometimes I think perhaps God really does know best and maybe two children would be a struggle for me with my hormonal issues. I just don't seem to have the time or energy for anyone at this point. A day or even a week under the duvet would be good!
Without intending to, I seem to sometimes become a support person for people and this is hard when I need to fall apart myself. At times like this, it feels as if there is nowwhere to go. Nobody seems to understand premature menopause in my corner of the world. And as for SIF - I am not up to revealing my pain and having misunderstandings/insensitives thrown back at me. So what do I do? I withdraw and it is killing me.
To top things off it is school holidays here so the growing families are out in force. Yesterday my daughter and I caught the bus into town and there were families of two, three and four everywhere. Of course I bumped in many MOTs and MOTHs I know. I just about slapped a MOT who complained about being home with her two children all holidays! I have to apply self-preservation in the holidays which is often when my SIF stuff is triggered.
Tomorrow my daughter and I are going to spend the day with a good friend of mine. She is in her mid-60s and is like a mother-figure to me and always accepts me; whatever state I am. She had fpur children and two have died as adults so she gets loss. My daughter enjoys spending time out there too - she and her husband and their dogs and birds live by the beach - it is always a relaxing place to go and somewhere I try to take my daughter once every school holidays.
I am a mess. I know it. One of my Mum's friends lost a spouse recently. Apparently he was found out of it in his bed after a heavy night's drinking shortly after the funeral. It's sad - but understandable. We all respond to grief in different ways. I guess this time round my grief is a little less controlled and I am giving myself the time and space to feel what I need to feel. I am giving myself permission to fall, trusting that eventually I will stand again.
I feel as though I went to war with SIF and now I'm out of it, I have more battles to face. But the battles post-SIF constantly touch on some of my SIF stuff. I do think of us all facing SIF as soldiers going to war. But some soldiers come out more scathed than others: Two soldiers go to war, Soldier A and Soldier B - and they both come back home with damaged legs. Soldier A gets to walk again, after a lot of physio. Soldier B's legs are beyond repair and so he has to adapt to a life in a wheelchair. Neither of them will forget the war. But for Soldier A, life carries on eventually. Soldier B has a much longer recovery and has to live with a permanent loss - that of not being able to walk again. That has been my journey. SIF was my war. Infertility is my permanent loss. And perimenopause is the new life I am having to adapt to. One day I will accept it; but I feel as though I have a long way to go.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Embracing menopause
Well I don't know if I am quite embracing menopause just yet - I just didn't know what else to call this post! But things are shifting for me in a positive way. I am choosing to face being in perimenopause and that is helping things.
I have joined the menopause group on Dailystrength and have also made contact with an Early Menopause online group here in New Zealand. I probably feel similar to how I did when I signed up with the Dailystrength secondary infertility online group two and a half years ago - relief at finding other women in the same boat and some small pride in that I have accepted my "condition" somewhat through signing up with such groups.
Because I had hoped like crazy for another biological child; everyone I made contact with on my SIF journey attributed all I went through to SIF. However, it's kind of like what came first ala the chicken or the egg. I was probably in perimenopause the whole time I had SIF. If I hadn't wanted another child; then I would have eventually being treated for perimenopause. One specialist on my journey basically said the same thing - because I was getting older, and time was running out, then my infertility was the focus; not the fact my body was biologically changing - even though the two are ultimately connected.
As I struggle or perhaps adapt to live with these menopausal symptoms, I know with full certainty that my dark days of SIF are over. Although there is a part of me that will carry some sadness around that for some time, I'm sure - it does not rule me. However, since I am in hyper-sensitive mode with my menopausal symptoms - I am in danger of going back there so am having to apply some self-preservation around pregnancies and growing families. This week two friends on Dailystrength have said they are pregnant. I am rapt for them but cannot follow their pregnancies too closely at this point in time. A woman who lives across the road from me who I know through Kindy is pregnant with her third child. I have been hoping she wouldn't notice me (ridiculous!) as I don't want to do the neighbourly thing with her. But she saw me the other day and we waved at each other and I was annoyed that she now knows we are neighbours!!
I feel almost as though I have outgrown the secondary infertility group on Dailystrength. It isn't because I don't care about the women there - believe me - I have some great friends there. But I cannot conceive and many of the women there probably can/will. I feel more at home in the menopause group on the same site for now. I guess menopause - and learning how to live with that is my focus. It is my way of moving forward.
I have been attempting to be more gentle and self-nurturing towards myself lately. I went and did a Bodybalance class (yoga/pilates) at the gym yesterday. I was doing that class twice a week until a few months ago when I had back issues and my physio advised I stop going. But I have really missed it in mind, body and soul and feel I need a class like that in my week. I really enjoyed it but my back does hurt a little afterwards - I will have to be a bit cautious in that class and I did inform the instructor yesterday of my injury. I also went and for a walk/for a cuppa with a friend last night. I just really need my girlfriends right now to talk to about girly stuff.
I resigned from my Sunday job last weekend. With my daughter starting school two weeks ago, I just want the weekends free now for family time. It feels as though it is the end of the SIF era in lots of ways. I took on that Sunday job two years ago when going through a very rough time with SIF - I had a lot of grief and struggled with acceptance. The job served it's purpose - it was ultimately a SIF distraction - but I am past that just-managing-my-grief stage.
I have applied for another job which involves working Saturday and Sunday evenings - there were apparently a lot of applicants for the job and so who knows what my chances are in getting it. But I am having to be self-honest at the moment and accept that my menopausal symptoms bring limitations into my life at this point in time. I do need my life to be as gentle as possible with as much downtime as possible. There are a few commitments I have made over the last two or three years - commitments I made to keep me busy as I struggled with SIF - it is time to let go of a lot of them.
My weekday job has been extremely busy and a real juggling act with mothering a daughter with autism spectrum disorder. I have been working extra hours and will be talking soon with my employer to see if I can get my hours increased.
I was thinking during my Bodybalance class yesterday that if I could live a parallel life I would take off and backpack around Europe for three months alone!! It is difficult to express in words - but for me The Change - going into menopause - is affecting me quite deeply in mind, body and soul and I just have to go with it. I seem to be craving space - lots of it - lots of personal space. I want to do things on my own. My whole gym work-out/exercise programme feels like it is having a big overhaul. When I joined the gym two years ago I needed the energy and enthusiasm of instructors to lift me during my dark days of SIF. But I don't need them anymore. I am officially taking off the heavy gown that I have worn that was SIF and am putting it aside. It's as though I need to find my wings on my own so I can fly again. Harping on//focusing on what I can't have (another child) only holds me back from where I want and need to go.
The bottom-line is; I don't have to fight SIF any more. I guess for the last month or so I have been processing the confirmation I got from an infertility specialist that I am in perimenopause (something I knew and feared for a very long time). It means I am free to live and adapt my life as a woman going through a big life-change - and I don't have to live as woman who was fighting to have what she couldn't for have - another child.
Who knows if this even makes a whole lot of sense. I will still be checking in on Dailystrength - but my focus has changed. I feel as though the fork in the road has taken me off on a different journey and that is where I need to go. I will be going on my own version of backpacking through Europe over the next three months in my own back yard, as such. You have all supported me in your own way through reading my posts on my blog - or journals in Dailystrength. I thank-you for that from the bottom of my heart.
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