BBT, short for Basal Body Temperature, is the lowest temperature attained by the body during rest. It is recorded immediately after being awakened before any physical activity has been undertaken. Before you so much as sit up, or talk. And so there sits a Basal thermometer on my night stand, easily accessible, used every morning at 6am as soon as my mind registers that I am awake. It's part of my morning routine now, I roll over ever so slowly, and lie perfectly still as it records my temperature, all while the antagonizing alarm spews forth it's wretched sound. I want to shut the darn thing off, club it to death even, only I can't. I can't move yet, not until the beeping of the thermometer sounds. Dear Boyfriend doesn't seem to mind, I dare say it's part of his routine now to, be awakened before his time, listen to the alarm blare while I do my thing, knowing not to utter the words, "Good morning," or "I love you," because I cannot return the sentiment yet.
Some of you may know all about the abc's of BBT, and to those that do not, let me explain, it's rather fascinating.(Or perhaps I just fascinate way too easily) From the first day of your period it is known as the follicular phase of your cycle, when estrogen dominates. Then once ovulation has occurred, you've entered your leutal phase where progesterone is now leading the hormonal tango, until your new cycle begins. Then cue a rise in estrogen, and let the bi-polar woman begin again. While on topic, and come to think of it, men have no right to complain about our mood swings, and all that jazz. We have a legit reasons when you consider the changes our bodies have to go through over and over again, month after month. It's exhausting just thinking about it, isn't it? I do believe we've earned our God given right to be a irritable, weepy, bitch. Wear that badge with pride ladies. We are woman, here us...moan in pain with cramps?? Pfft, roaring is for the lions anyways.
Where was I, oh yes, back to the point...So what does all this have to do with recording your temperature you may ask? From the first day of your period if you start consistently recording your basal body temperature, and charting it every day on a graph, you'll notice dips and spikes by month's end. Too small to feel physically, but they are there, and have hidden signs. Your temperature should remain low, on average in the low 97 degrees Fahrenheit. After ovulation it should spike to the higher 97 degree Fahrenheit, and up into the 98's degree Fahrenheit. And there it should consistently remain higher until it takes a huge dip, usually right before, or on the day of your period. Every woman is different, and temperatures will vary. Another fascinating thing about this, is that your BBT can indicate pregnancy. If your temperature remains spiked for over 15+ days, it's usually a sure sign that there's a bun in that oven.
I do not have yet a regular cycle established, but once I began my acupuncture, and treatments by the Naturopath, I started charting from my first period, looking a regular pattern, and for those hidden signs. Namely, looking for that temperature spike that signifies ovulation has occurred. The only catch is, your spike will happen around two days after your ovulation has occurred, not when ovulation is at it's peak. But hey, at this point, just for proof that it has occured is enough for me, and it is a very good sign, especially seeing as I had amenorrhea, and was anovulatory. If say, I had a regular, by the book, 28 day cycle, after a few months of charting, I could see and predict that exact day I would ovulate and release that egg, and know when that small fertility window was opened. Do you all feel schooled on the subject now? Good.
Now, I've been charting and graphing now for 3 months, and am still hoping for that regular pattern to show. Months may turn into years before I see anything remotely consistent, if ever I fear. I was going into my 5th week of my cycle, and it was looking like a dud. My baseline temperature was sitting at 96.8 - 97.2 degrees Fahrenheit, every morning, morning after morning since the first day of my last period, May 11th. I felt nothing, so signs of a pending period, no physical signs of ovulation, or post-ovulation for that matter. I can't lie, this evidence depressed me, and I cried about it many days due to being so frustrated with my own body. It's my body, but yet I feel like a stranger in it. I have no control over it, it control me, I just have to go along for the ride. I cannot will it to do anything, I cannot demand it. I try and persuade it, as opposed to unnaturally manipulating it, but it doesn't seem to even appreciate my efforts. Stubborn body. Stubborn Ruthie. Perhaps I'm too impatient? It's true, when I want things, I do want them to happen yesterday.
It was all too much for me, I was gonna break, so I came home from work one day last week, and got straight into bed. And I cried - You know, that homely cry that you want no one else ever to witness? Where the sounds of an animal dying escapes your lips? Where your nose is dripping, and your head is so stopped up it might explode from lack of oxygen? - I cried myself to sleep, praying to God out of desperation, while cursing my body. I always said I wanted to be a better person, not a bitter one, but I'm bitter. Bitter about all this. A part of me is bitter towards God. Hey, don't judge me, God says not to! I questioned God why He'd let this happen. How he could do this to me when He's always know how I've wanted children more than anything. How it was the only thing I've ever asked for out of this life that I've been forced to live. How he could bless people with children day after day, when they are not wanted. The world if full of people raising other people's children, people abusing their children, ignoring them. Drug addicts giving birth to drug addicted babies. People using their children solely as a means for government income. They should be shamed of themselves! Fie on you! You wouldn't know a blessing if it hit you in the face! So why, God, WHY? Why did you have to make it so hard for me? Am I being punished for something? It's a question I can only hope will make sense one day. That I will have my answer. That one day I will understand the reasoning.
Three days later I was crampy. Four days later something happened, and it happened at 6am, my temperature spiked. Could I have ovulated and not realized it? Was I so preoccupied with worrying about no ovulation, that I missed it? If I did in fact ovulate, it would have put my peak day around June 9th, which just so happens to be my birthday. (This is the part when you all smile with me) Could the anniversary of my own birth been blessed with the beginning of an other's life?
Riddle me this, had my oven been preheated, or was it just a glitch in my thermostat?
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Fantasy vs. Reality
This morning I'm feeling the ache. Like a weight on my chest, making it hard to breathe. An ache of the heart. I swallow, but the lump doesn't dispense, it only grows. I try and think about something else...anything, but for some reason my mind is inanimate, and holds fast, refusing to allow any other thought to penetrate it's hemispheres. I groan, but no sound escapes, I cry, but no tears fall. I'm drowning in this ache, this emptiness, like I'm missing something. Something is missing.
How is it possible to love a child so much that has yet to have life? And yet I do. I love this unconceived child with everything within me. I find myself letting go of reality for a period of time, imagining he or she. How can I not when even my unconscious dreams possess images of this tiny new life? I awake from those dreams reluctant to let go of that place, I am content there, I can breathe there. This nightmare only exists when I'm awake.
I can imagine everything. I close my eyes and slip into a place in my mind that is safe. Nobody can find me there, it's my secret. My favorite place to reside. I feel whole there, never feel that gaping void......
I'm not feeling quite myself...just off. Is it possible? With shaky hands, I'd pee on that stick. It's Positive. I'm in disbelief. I take two more tests. They're all positive.
He comes home from and says I'm glowing. Does he know already? Maybe it's just because I'm beaming. I tell him in the way I've planned. He didn't suspect a thing. I watch his face register shock, then realization, then there it is...now he's beaming. This is a great moment.
I'm at the doctor's office, we're excited. I've got butterflies fluttering in my tummy, their wings snapping, synchronizing with my rapid pulse. With baited breath we wait for it, the sign of life, a heartbeat. This finally feels real now. I laugh and compare it to a galloping horse.
I look at the clock, he's late, he's supposed to meet me here. He had to take the afternoon off. I know he wouldn't miss it. They call my name, and as I start to rise, I feel him take my hand, and hurriedly kiss me, out of breathe. He's anxious, too.
There's a cold sensation, and then a lot of pressure from the probe. If they press any harder there's going to be a clean up on aisle gurney. I'm bursting from all the water I was told to drink to get a better picture from the ultrasound. I push the urge to the back of my mind, focusing on the monitor. My eyes cannot leave the screen, I can see nothing else, I'm in awe. They ask if we want to know the sex. We do not, it's one of life's far precious few surprises.
I am slightly round with child, my hand lovingly placed over the swell of my abdomen. I feel a flutter...a rippling effect, then a small tap - or at least that's how I imagine it to be - and it has finally happened. That first tiny kick. I am ecstatic.
I experience a tightening of my skin, it's stretched beyond it's limit. I'm swollen, tired, and can't hardly bend over. None of this matters.
Is it time? A stabbing pain grips me. We time the pains. It is time!
I'm restless and exhausted. I can't take this no more. I start to question why I had wanted this...was I crazy? No. I focus, keeping my mind on the end result. I draw the strength I need, I press on.
I wait for it, holding my own breath, and then it happens. I hear that first wail, that, lungs-cleared, ear-piercing squawk flooding my ears. It's the most beautiful sound in the world. No choir or world-renowned orchestra could compare.
Love cannot be measured, has not a capacity, a volume, or mass, but yet I'm cradling love in my arms. I look down, and am so overwhelmed by the waves of emotion that I feel. I am now drowning in my own tears.
Weak eyes struggle against the light of this new world, trying to focus on my face. "Hello there," we'd both say without a physical word spoken. "I've been waiting for you."
I am no longer empty. I am complete. My soul yearns no more. Everything has lead up to this moment. I am thankful. I've been blessed...
Reality is a real bitch, isn't it?
How is it possible to love a child so much that has yet to have life? And yet I do. I love this unconceived child with everything within me. I find myself letting go of reality for a period of time, imagining he or she. How can I not when even my unconscious dreams possess images of this tiny new life? I awake from those dreams reluctant to let go of that place, I am content there, I can breathe there. This nightmare only exists when I'm awake.
I can imagine everything. I close my eyes and slip into a place in my mind that is safe. Nobody can find me there, it's my secret. My favorite place to reside. I feel whole there, never feel that gaping void......
I'm not feeling quite myself...just off. Is it possible? With shaky hands, I'd pee on that stick. It's Positive. I'm in disbelief. I take two more tests. They're all positive.
He comes home from and says I'm glowing. Does he know already? Maybe it's just because I'm beaming. I tell him in the way I've planned. He didn't suspect a thing. I watch his face register shock, then realization, then there it is...now he's beaming. This is a great moment.
I'm at the doctor's office, we're excited. I've got butterflies fluttering in my tummy, their wings snapping, synchronizing with my rapid pulse. With baited breath we wait for it, the sign of life, a heartbeat. This finally feels real now. I laugh and compare it to a galloping horse.
I look at the clock, he's late, he's supposed to meet me here. He had to take the afternoon off. I know he wouldn't miss it. They call my name, and as I start to rise, I feel him take my hand, and hurriedly kiss me, out of breathe. He's anxious, too.
There's a cold sensation, and then a lot of pressure from the probe. If they press any harder there's going to be a clean up on aisle gurney. I'm bursting from all the water I was told to drink to get a better picture from the ultrasound. I push the urge to the back of my mind, focusing on the monitor. My eyes cannot leave the screen, I can see nothing else, I'm in awe. They ask if we want to know the sex. We do not, it's one of life's far precious few surprises.
I am slightly round with child, my hand lovingly placed over the swell of my abdomen. I feel a flutter...a rippling effect, then a small tap - or at least that's how I imagine it to be - and it has finally happened. That first tiny kick. I am ecstatic.
I experience a tightening of my skin, it's stretched beyond it's limit. I'm swollen, tired, and can't hardly bend over. None of this matters.
Is it time? A stabbing pain grips me. We time the pains. It is time!
I'm restless and exhausted. I can't take this no more. I start to question why I had wanted this...was I crazy? No. I focus, keeping my mind on the end result. I draw the strength I need, I press on.
I wait for it, holding my own breath, and then it happens. I hear that first wail, that, lungs-cleared, ear-piercing squawk flooding my ears. It's the most beautiful sound in the world. No choir or world-renowned orchestra could compare.
Love cannot be measured, has not a capacity, a volume, or mass, but yet I'm cradling love in my arms. I look down, and am so overwhelmed by the waves of emotion that I feel. I am now drowning in my own tears.
Weak eyes struggle against the light of this new world, trying to focus on my face. "Hello there," we'd both say without a physical word spoken. "I've been waiting for you."
I am no longer empty. I am complete. My soul yearns no more. Everything has lead up to this moment. I am thankful. I've been blessed...
Reality is a real bitch, isn't it?
Monday, May 31, 2010
'Cause I've Got Friends in Administrative Places
Having all the right friends in the right places means everything in a world of, "It's not what you know, it's who you know." And just how true that statement is. I know people, and that worked in my favour. I'm neither ashamed to have used my resources, or feel guilty in the least. It's the way the world works. Take it or leave it. I took it. And all it required was contacting a certain individual, and asking them to pull my file and get me in to a specialist asap! I received a phone call from them a few days later with an appointment to see a OB/GYN on Tuesday, May 25th. It was less than a 6 month wait for me, as compared to the year and a half I was first informed of.
To say I was very anxious for my upcoming appointment would be an understatement. I took the day off work, as did dear boyfriend, who said, it was far too important for him to miss. (Cue some, Awwwws). Finally, I could stop worrying, find out directly what my options were, and get started on the road to fertility. Time is of the essence, and my biological clock has struck turbo speed. At least, that's the way it feels to me. I've got a case of empty womb syndrome, and to anyone who has ever experienced it, it's an ache like no other. It's mourning for a life not lived, not like mourning over a life once lived. It's different, but yet the same, if you can make any sense out of that.
I was prepared for this, the day couldn't get here soon enough, but by the evening before, I had worked myself into a ball of nerves, rattled nerves. Sleep couldn't find me, but I managed to track it down by 2 am. Unfortunately my sleep was that of a restless one until 5:40 am, at which time I got up. I went for a run, got my entire exercise routine under my belt by 8am. They claim exercise releases endorphins, but it did nothing to calm me. And when I thought I could not get any more ancy, we were in the car, and on our way. My heart picked up pace, I was fidgety, and my stomach was in knots. Just just one of those loose knots, but one of those knots a Boy Scout learns on his first wilderness excursion. I was ultra quiet and deep in thought the entire drive. For the sake of dear boyfriend, I tried to act all was well, but who was I kidding, he always knows, I can't get anything passed him. I swear he knows what I'm feeling before I even feel it! He just covered my hand with his own and lightly squeezed, a way of reminding me I wasn't alone. Then when he began his silly car-radio singing where he incorporates my name into every song, and changes the words around to suit, try as I might, I could not fight a ear-splitting smile. It's those little things though, isn't it?
Once we arrived and got registered, the clerk directed us to Dr. L's office to await him. I'm not sure what happened, but I began to feel as though the walls were closing in on me, like I couldn't breathe. Dear Boyfriend was talking to me, my eyes were scanning a pamphlet they had given me to read over, but I did not hear a word he said, nor could my mind process the information before my eyes. My heart started pounding, flooded my ears with the pulsating sound, I could feel that of an anxiety attack coming on, and then I said it, "Could you leave the room when the doctor comes in?" The look on his face said it all, the look of hurt, and it was what snapped me back to reality. I'm not sure why I said it, I sure as heck didn't mean it, I wanted him with me. We are in this together, after all, but nonetheless those words left my lips. Once words are spewed forth, they can never return to place of unspokenness, although I wished with all my might, just this once they could. I tried recanting, explaining, but I could still see that look in his eyes. I felt like a big stupid jerk. I'm selfish when it comes to my feelings, I focus constantly on what I'm experiencing...feeling, never taking into account that this affects him, too.
A quick rap at the door then Dr. L was there, in the room, closing the door behind him, keeping Dear Boyfriend right where I wanted him, and where he belonged. First thing he asked was why I was there, and what I wanted him to do for me. Direct. Straight to the point. He knew why I was there medically, he had my chart, but personally, it mattered just as much. I liked that. I was quick to say that fertility was my biggest issue, and the most important factor in all of this, as far as I was concerned. He informed me that they had some time to work with me seeing as I am 28 (well, technically not until next week), but this condition will progress, and once the age of 35, chances and success rates were low. I quickly did the simple math. 7 years. I've got 7 years to have my family. What if it took years to have even just one? I always wanted more than one child, at the least, three. Would hoping for at least two be greedy of me? Should I content my mind in only settling for one, just in case? All these question plagued my mind instantly, whirling around like a cyclone.
Dr. L told me it was up to me when I wanted to start trying, with his aid. And his aid? Clomid, a fertility drug. Success rates - pretty good; My luck - pretty bad. Here's the thing, you only get 6 months to try Clomid, after which time, you are thought of as 'infertile', and many tests and examinations would ensue. You know, the testing of, ahem...his marching soldiers, my fallopian tubes spring cleaned until they whistled, that sort of thing. Then next on the list would be looking into fertility procedures. Ex. In-virto...yada, yada...you get the point, the need for some cold hard cash. Fertility procedures are not cheap in the least!
There are some medications that will help with certain symptoms of my disorder, to which I've been offered to try, but seeing as none are safe to take if you are pregnant, or could become pregnant, I opted out. The best thing I can do to help control symptom flare-ups for now, and for life, is to maintain my body weight, and eat healthy, exercise often. Dr. L asked about my periods, and that's when I told him about my seeing a licensed Naturopathic Doctor the past 2 months, and filled him in on all my progress with Dr. B - 2 periods in a 6 week time frame! He said it was extremely important to have at least 4 periods per year. A uterus that is not shedding, and build up, is at a high risk for uterine cancer. Not to mention, due to my condition, I'm already at a high risk for diabetes (hormone imbalance = messes with insulin resistance), and heart disease. Fun stuff. I think not. So then came the prescription for hormone replacement called Provera. A form of progesterone that tricks your body into having a period. Then once you're having your period, on day 3 of your cycle you'd commence the Clomid. 8-10 days later, you should ovulate. Sounds easy enough, right? Oh, but nothing is without side effects. Hot flashes, cramping, nausea, that feeling of, 'down-in-the-dumps', are just a few that were mentioned. Here's my dilemma, all these unnatural man-made drugs are what I wanted to avoid in the first place, so what do I do now? I expected to leave the specialist feeling utter relief. Rather, I felt overwhelmed with what I wanted to do. I had to start re-evaluating everything, and quickly before my mind combusted from overload.
What was wrong with this picture? I left the specialists office more tormented than before I entered. It all weighed heavily on my mind. I mauled it all over a thousand times, with still no satisfaction or contentment. What should I do? Should I start the Clomid next month? Should I give up on acupuncture and Naturopathy? Then I started to fear taking Clomid...what if it didn't work? Starting it meant one of two things. It either meant I was 6 months closer to having a baby, or 6 months closer to finding out it wasn't going to work. The latter was what frightened me. And then with our pending move to Halifax, would it even be smart of me to start taking it now?
A good old heart to heart. The most open, and raw conversation two individuals can have. And that's just what Dear Boyfriend and I did. I poured my heart out to him. Admitted how torn I was about what to do. As much as I craved to feel the relief that I'll only experience when I become pregnant, when I know it has happened, and is possible for me, it all just didn't feel right. I was at such odds with myself. I wanted to feel that relief, but I hate feeling rushed to make a decision. He was patient with me, and tried his very best to understand my insane ramblings, and scenarios - God bless him! He reassured my fears, and reminded me of what I first wanted. And so, together we decided to continue with the Naturopathic route. It has been what has brought me thus far, and many positive things have happened. I need to give it more a chance, it is what feels right to us. Once we move, get settled into our new lives and environment, and if it still hasn't happened, perhaps then we'll reconsider it. For now though, we're just gonna relax, enjoy the summer, our time together, and continue seeing the Naturopathic, and having the acupuncture treatments. Only time will tell.
My mind is still now, silent, I've found my peace.
To say I was very anxious for my upcoming appointment would be an understatement. I took the day off work, as did dear boyfriend, who said, it was far too important for him to miss. (Cue some, Awwwws). Finally, I could stop worrying, find out directly what my options were, and get started on the road to fertility. Time is of the essence, and my biological clock has struck turbo speed. At least, that's the way it feels to me. I've got a case of empty womb syndrome, and to anyone who has ever experienced it, it's an ache like no other. It's mourning for a life not lived, not like mourning over a life once lived. It's different, but yet the same, if you can make any sense out of that.
I was prepared for this, the day couldn't get here soon enough, but by the evening before, I had worked myself into a ball of nerves, rattled nerves. Sleep couldn't find me, but I managed to track it down by 2 am. Unfortunately my sleep was that of a restless one until 5:40 am, at which time I got up. I went for a run, got my entire exercise routine under my belt by 8am. They claim exercise releases endorphins, but it did nothing to calm me. And when I thought I could not get any more ancy, we were in the car, and on our way. My heart picked up pace, I was fidgety, and my stomach was in knots. Just just one of those loose knots, but one of those knots a Boy Scout learns on his first wilderness excursion. I was ultra quiet and deep in thought the entire drive. For the sake of dear boyfriend, I tried to act all was well, but who was I kidding, he always knows, I can't get anything passed him. I swear he knows what I'm feeling before I even feel it! He just covered my hand with his own and lightly squeezed, a way of reminding me I wasn't alone. Then when he began his silly car-radio singing where he incorporates my name into every song, and changes the words around to suit, try as I might, I could not fight a ear-splitting smile. It's those little things though, isn't it?
Once we arrived and got registered, the clerk directed us to Dr. L's office to await him. I'm not sure what happened, but I began to feel as though the walls were closing in on me, like I couldn't breathe. Dear Boyfriend was talking to me, my eyes were scanning a pamphlet they had given me to read over, but I did not hear a word he said, nor could my mind process the information before my eyes. My heart started pounding, flooded my ears with the pulsating sound, I could feel that of an anxiety attack coming on, and then I said it, "Could you leave the room when the doctor comes in?" The look on his face said it all, the look of hurt, and it was what snapped me back to reality. I'm not sure why I said it, I sure as heck didn't mean it, I wanted him with me. We are in this together, after all, but nonetheless those words left my lips. Once words are spewed forth, they can never return to place of unspokenness, although I wished with all my might, just this once they could. I tried recanting, explaining, but I could still see that look in his eyes. I felt like a big stupid jerk. I'm selfish when it comes to my feelings, I focus constantly on what I'm experiencing...feeling, never taking into account that this affects him, too.
A quick rap at the door then Dr. L was there, in the room, closing the door behind him, keeping Dear Boyfriend right where I wanted him, and where he belonged. First thing he asked was why I was there, and what I wanted him to do for me. Direct. Straight to the point. He knew why I was there medically, he had my chart, but personally, it mattered just as much. I liked that. I was quick to say that fertility was my biggest issue, and the most important factor in all of this, as far as I was concerned. He informed me that they had some time to work with me seeing as I am 28 (well, technically not until next week), but this condition will progress, and once the age of 35, chances and success rates were low. I quickly did the simple math. 7 years. I've got 7 years to have my family. What if it took years to have even just one? I always wanted more than one child, at the least, three. Would hoping for at least two be greedy of me? Should I content my mind in only settling for one, just in case? All these question plagued my mind instantly, whirling around like a cyclone.
Dr. L told me it was up to me when I wanted to start trying, with his aid. And his aid? Clomid, a fertility drug. Success rates - pretty good; My luck - pretty bad. Here's the thing, you only get 6 months to try Clomid, after which time, you are thought of as 'infertile', and many tests and examinations would ensue. You know, the testing of, ahem...his marching soldiers, my fallopian tubes spring cleaned until they whistled, that sort of thing. Then next on the list would be looking into fertility procedures. Ex. In-virto...yada, yada...you get the point, the need for some cold hard cash. Fertility procedures are not cheap in the least!
There are some medications that will help with certain symptoms of my disorder, to which I've been offered to try, but seeing as none are safe to take if you are pregnant, or could become pregnant, I opted out. The best thing I can do to help control symptom flare-ups for now, and for life, is to maintain my body weight, and eat healthy, exercise often. Dr. L asked about my periods, and that's when I told him about my seeing a licensed Naturopathic Doctor the past 2 months, and filled him in on all my progress with Dr. B - 2 periods in a 6 week time frame! He said it was extremely important to have at least 4 periods per year. A uterus that is not shedding, and build up, is at a high risk for uterine cancer. Not to mention, due to my condition, I'm already at a high risk for diabetes (hormone imbalance = messes with insulin resistance), and heart disease. Fun stuff. I think not. So then came the prescription for hormone replacement called Provera. A form of progesterone that tricks your body into having a period. Then once you're having your period, on day 3 of your cycle you'd commence the Clomid. 8-10 days later, you should ovulate. Sounds easy enough, right? Oh, but nothing is without side effects. Hot flashes, cramping, nausea, that feeling of, 'down-in-the-dumps', are just a few that were mentioned. Here's my dilemma, all these unnatural man-made drugs are what I wanted to avoid in the first place, so what do I do now? I expected to leave the specialist feeling utter relief. Rather, I felt overwhelmed with what I wanted to do. I had to start re-evaluating everything, and quickly before my mind combusted from overload.
What was wrong with this picture? I left the specialists office more tormented than before I entered. It all weighed heavily on my mind. I mauled it all over a thousand times, with still no satisfaction or contentment. What should I do? Should I start the Clomid next month? Should I give up on acupuncture and Naturopathy? Then I started to fear taking Clomid...what if it didn't work? Starting it meant one of two things. It either meant I was 6 months closer to having a baby, or 6 months closer to finding out it wasn't going to work. The latter was what frightened me. And then with our pending move to Halifax, would it even be smart of me to start taking it now?
A good old heart to heart. The most open, and raw conversation two individuals can have. And that's just what Dear Boyfriend and I did. I poured my heart out to him. Admitted how torn I was about what to do. As much as I craved to feel the relief that I'll only experience when I become pregnant, when I know it has happened, and is possible for me, it all just didn't feel right. I was at such odds with myself. I wanted to feel that relief, but I hate feeling rushed to make a decision. He was patient with me, and tried his very best to understand my insane ramblings, and scenarios - God bless him! He reassured my fears, and reminded me of what I first wanted. And so, together we decided to continue with the Naturopathic route. It has been what has brought me thus far, and many positive things have happened. I need to give it more a chance, it is what feels right to us. Once we move, get settled into our new lives and environment, and if it still hasn't happened, perhaps then we'll reconsider it. For now though, we're just gonna relax, enjoy the summer, our time together, and continue seeing the Naturopathic, and having the acupuncture treatments. Only time will tell.
My mind is still now, silent, I've found my peace.
Monday, May 17, 2010
The Weight of the Matter
The bigger you are the more of you there is to love...
That was always my Grandmother's motto when it came to me feeling down on myself as a child over being, for lack of better words, a chunker. At least she always said it with a hug, and it was, believe it or not, with her form of sincerity.
At the age of 7, I began going through that awkward phase where I was free of my baby teeth, and trying to grow into my new ones. And ironic enough, my baby fat had made a triumphant return. You know how they say, kids are cruel? Well, yeah, they totally are, I got teased and was called such things as "fat, and "pig" on the playground, and strange enough, that has never left me. They say that we as humans never remember the positive things we hear, but yet we zoom in on, and never forget the negative. For example, fifty people could compliment you and tell you that you looked nice, but it would only take for one person to say the opposite, and that would be all you hear, all you'd recall. All those other lovely comments be damned. That goes to show, negative feeds negative. Perhaps that was when my self-esteem problem originated, of that I'm not exactly sure. One thing I do know for sure is that was when my battle with weight first began. Or as some call it, "the battle of the bulge." Now true, once I reached that ever wonderfully adolescence stage (sarcasm), and puberty made it appearance, I experienced a growth spurt, and grew up, rather than out for a change....BUT, I still felt uncomfortable in my own body, and that I was still "fat", so hence, cue the early teenage years of eating disorder stage.
Some call it anorexia, but I can't say that I was anorexic, after all I did allow myself to eat one popsicle every day. Always either grape, or orange. I suppose in some twisted way I thought that counted as a serving of fruit for the day. It took some dedication of staying away from food, but I managed to achieve my goal weight of 115lbs. And the real catch? I still felt, "fat." Now upon looking back at old photos of that time in my life, I looked horrible, pale, collar bone sticking out. I simply looked ill and not at all healthy. What was I thinking?
Finally after my immune system took a hit, and getting really sick, I slowly started introducing food back into my diet, or should I say, the lack thereof a diet. Then slowly, and ever so frequently I began gaining weight...and weight...and weight. I went from one extreme to another. By the time I graduated high school I didn't think it was possible for me to gain any more weight, and yet, I still did. I couldn't stop, I just kept gaining. I was always active, always worked nothing but physically demanding jobs, it wasn't as though I sat around stuffing my face with Twinkies all day or anything. True, I didn't have the best of eating habits, but if I was going gain weight at warp speed anyways, I would have rather enjoyed it and went all buck wild on all the foods I love.
For the next few years until the age of 25, I continued my battle. I was unhappy, miserable, depressed, my anxiety was getting the best of me, and I was to my emotional breaking point. Something needed a change. I needed to change. And so, I changed my way of thinking, started adding regular exercise in my daily life, and became more food conscious, and at turtle speed, I started losing weight. To say it was easy would be a lie, losing weight is the hardest thing there is to do, if anyone ever claims different, they're lying. There's no such thing as "dieting", it's a way of life, starting firstly with mental preparation, and self-encouragement. I do not own scales, nor like knowing my exact weight. The last time I was on a set of scales was about a year ago (my sister harped until I did), so therefore I do know for sure that I have lost over 50lbs to that point. At least once a week I have a run in with an individual who comments on my weight loss, or some who have exclaimed, "I didn't even know who you were, you've lost so much weight!" As much as I like hearing that, it also makes me sad, I'm saddened for the old me and all her pain.
I'm still not happy with how I look, so my goal for this calendar year is to lose another 20lbs. I feel that's reasonable, and will not result in setting myself up for a great disappointment. I tell you though, it's so hard! I try, and try, and try, and it's as though I'm at a plateau weight-wise right now. The doctor tells me that with my hormone levels the way they are, and my estrogen gone a-wall, it makes losing weight more difficult. Then come to find out, my condition (which you're born with, to which there is no cure) would have been a contributing factor in my gaining so much weight in the first place. Estrogen causes your body retain a lot of water, and the imbalanced hormones affect insulin resistance...meaning, I've got a lot stacked against me. And get this...losing more weight aids in balancing hormones, but yet, hormones will keep you from losing weight. A real catch-22! So frustrating!
I refuse to give up, and I keep pushing myself - now having been upping my cardio by jogging rather than walking. It's getting easier, my wind is getting better, and I can feel myself getting stronger each time. Also, having an ipod (thanks to dear boyfriend), with some upbeat workout music really helps, too. Just one dilemma now...a bull moose hanging around my running trails. Hmm, I'm not sure if I should be alarmed due to the many tales I have heard about moose charging...they are pretty massive...
Nah, what's more scary, a charging bull moose, or a woman with a hormone imbalance? Exactly! Like any other male, he'd run from me.
That was always my Grandmother's motto when it came to me feeling down on myself as a child over being, for lack of better words, a chunker. At least she always said it with a hug, and it was, believe it or not, with her form of sincerity.
At the age of 7, I began going through that awkward phase where I was free of my baby teeth, and trying to grow into my new ones. And ironic enough, my baby fat had made a triumphant return. You know how they say, kids are cruel? Well, yeah, they totally are, I got teased and was called such things as "fat, and "pig" on the playground, and strange enough, that has never left me. They say that we as humans never remember the positive things we hear, but yet we zoom in on, and never forget the negative. For example, fifty people could compliment you and tell you that you looked nice, but it would only take for one person to say the opposite, and that would be all you hear, all you'd recall. All those other lovely comments be damned. That goes to show, negative feeds negative. Perhaps that was when my self-esteem problem originated, of that I'm not exactly sure. One thing I do know for sure is that was when my battle with weight first began. Or as some call it, "the battle of the bulge." Now true, once I reached that ever wonderfully adolescence stage (sarcasm), and puberty made it appearance, I experienced a growth spurt, and grew up, rather than out for a change....BUT, I still felt uncomfortable in my own body, and that I was still "fat", so hence, cue the early teenage years of eating disorder stage.
Some call it anorexia, but I can't say that I was anorexic, after all I did allow myself to eat one popsicle every day. Always either grape, or orange. I suppose in some twisted way I thought that counted as a serving of fruit for the day. It took some dedication of staying away from food, but I managed to achieve my goal weight of 115lbs. And the real catch? I still felt, "fat." Now upon looking back at old photos of that time in my life, I looked horrible, pale, collar bone sticking out. I simply looked ill and not at all healthy. What was I thinking?
Finally after my immune system took a hit, and getting really sick, I slowly started introducing food back into my diet, or should I say, the lack thereof a diet. Then slowly, and ever so frequently I began gaining weight...and weight...and weight. I went from one extreme to another. By the time I graduated high school I didn't think it was possible for me to gain any more weight, and yet, I still did. I couldn't stop, I just kept gaining. I was always active, always worked nothing but physically demanding jobs, it wasn't as though I sat around stuffing my face with Twinkies all day or anything. True, I didn't have the best of eating habits, but if I was going gain weight at warp speed anyways, I would have rather enjoyed it and went all buck wild on all the foods I love.
For the next few years until the age of 25, I continued my battle. I was unhappy, miserable, depressed, my anxiety was getting the best of me, and I was to my emotional breaking point. Something needed a change. I needed to change. And so, I changed my way of thinking, started adding regular exercise in my daily life, and became more food conscious, and at turtle speed, I started losing weight. To say it was easy would be a lie, losing weight is the hardest thing there is to do, if anyone ever claims different, they're lying. There's no such thing as "dieting", it's a way of life, starting firstly with mental preparation, and self-encouragement. I do not own scales, nor like knowing my exact weight. The last time I was on a set of scales was about a year ago (my sister harped until I did), so therefore I do know for sure that I have lost over 50lbs to that point. At least once a week I have a run in with an individual who comments on my weight loss, or some who have exclaimed, "I didn't even know who you were, you've lost so much weight!" As much as I like hearing that, it also makes me sad, I'm saddened for the old me and all her pain.
I'm still not happy with how I look, so my goal for this calendar year is to lose another 20lbs. I feel that's reasonable, and will not result in setting myself up for a great disappointment. I tell you though, it's so hard! I try, and try, and try, and it's as though I'm at a plateau weight-wise right now. The doctor tells me that with my hormone levels the way they are, and my estrogen gone a-wall, it makes losing weight more difficult. Then come to find out, my condition (which you're born with, to which there is no cure) would have been a contributing factor in my gaining so much weight in the first place. Estrogen causes your body retain a lot of water, and the imbalanced hormones affect insulin resistance...meaning, I've got a lot stacked against me. And get this...losing more weight aids in balancing hormones, but yet, hormones will keep you from losing weight. A real catch-22! So frustrating!
I refuse to give up, and I keep pushing myself - now having been upping my cardio by jogging rather than walking. It's getting easier, my wind is getting better, and I can feel myself getting stronger each time. Also, having an ipod (thanks to dear boyfriend), with some upbeat workout music really helps, too. Just one dilemma now...a bull moose hanging around my running trails. Hmm, I'm not sure if I should be alarmed due to the many tales I have heard about moose charging...they are pretty massive...
Nah, what's more scary, a charging bull moose, or a woman with a hormone imbalance? Exactly! Like any other male, he'd run from me.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
It's just a little pin prick!
Western Medicine? Ha! I've lost a lot of respect for such. True, Western Medicine had finally diagnosed, and informed me of my condition - after years of issues and suffering, mind you. I still feel it neglected me, and failed me miserably. Not to knock it, but personally, it has let me down, and I think it's fair to say I'm disappointed by it.
Upon being told of this condition, this PCOS, I was told that I would be referred to a specialist, an OB/GYN, who then would refer me to another specialist, an Endocrinologist...There was blood tests to be done, physical exams to be had, along with hormone therapy treatments, possible surgery...the catch being, a year and a half wait time. Yeah, you read me right, a year and a half. I had a 18 months to worry, stress, and make myself sick about it. And that I did, immediately, and in that order.
Seeing as I had nothing but time on my hands, I began buying and devouring books, and any form of literature I could find on the matter. I was always thirsty for more knowledge on the subject, because, as they say, knowledge is power, and let's face it, I was feeling pretty darn powerless. And that was how I first discovered alternative treatments for my disorder, a more natural approach. So in stepped Naturopathic Medicine into my life. Or Eastern. And In my opinion a God send. I'll admit I was a bit sceptical at first, but I felt like I had absolutely nothing to lose, so I found a licensed Naturopathic Doctor, and began frequenting his clinic.
Enter Acupuncture. I started my acupuncture treatments on my very first visit. Dr. B told me he could establish a cycle for me, and that in time, and with frequent treatments, it would stimulate ovulation, my hormones would naturally balance out, and he was confident that babies would be in my near future. He empathized with me, understood all my concerns, even took the time to talk to me about it all when no other health care professional did, not even my own Doctor. He offered me hope, and I grabbed that hope with both hands, determined to hold on to it.
Tap. That was the only sensation I felt as each pin entered my body. With 5 in each leg, and 6 in my pelvic area, I laid there looking like a human porcupine, and feeling a little bit ridiculous. I asked, "Why my legs, too?", and was informed that there are nerves within the legs that run up and into the reproductive system, and that he was attempting to stimulate and clear of any blockages. I can see the logic in that, it makes sense I suppose, I thought with a shrug. I was open to anything at that point, and I couldn't knock it until I gave it a chance, otherwise that would have made me just an ignorant hypocrite.
After an hour and a half, I left Dr. B's office, feeling relatively positive and not really sure what to expect. Truthfully, I never really had any expectations, so when I woke the following morning, I was caught off guard and delightfully surprised... Aunt Flo had her bags in hand and was knocking at my door. I was ecstatic! A period of my very own, 'magine that! Less than 24 hours after the first treatment, and the first order of success had been completed. Coincidence? I think, and know not. It confirmed my belief beyond a shadow of a doubt in Acupuncture. I was sold on it.
A week and a half later at my following appointment with Dr. B he asked me right away, "So, have you noticed any changes since your last visit?" And with a huge smile on my face, I excitedly replied, "I had a period. A normal period!" With a smile of his own, he said, "I figured that's what you'd tell me."
Since then I've now had 4 rounds of acupuncture,(my 5th this coming Monday), now including 8 pins in my lower back, and certain nerves along my spine. With every treatment, it gets more intense, as sensations grow more and more stronger. The only way I can explain it is as a warm, tingly current running up and down my body, it feels amazing. And now heat lamps are used to add heat energy to further intensify. It never fails, I just start into a blissful sleep, and slip into a dream, when I hear Dr. B say, "I'm gonna take these pins out now."
It's been just 6 weeks into treatments, and I've had two regular cycles now. I do not suffer from the uncomfortable and constant bloating I had prior, my pelvic pain had ceased, and the ever-present cramping in my lower back is now non-existent. I can feel the change in my body, and it continues to change, to heal. And to think, all this without having to turn to those harsh hormone treatments first mentioned, with lists of side effects a mile long. That was always my last resort anyway, I was terrified of them.
Just a little pin prick?
...No just my saving grace.
Upon being told of this condition, this PCOS, I was told that I would be referred to a specialist, an OB/GYN, who then would refer me to another specialist, an Endocrinologist...There was blood tests to be done, physical exams to be had, along with hormone therapy treatments, possible surgery...the catch being, a year and a half wait time. Yeah, you read me right, a year and a half. I had a 18 months to worry, stress, and make myself sick about it. And that I did, immediately, and in that order.
Seeing as I had nothing but time on my hands, I began buying and devouring books, and any form of literature I could find on the matter. I was always thirsty for more knowledge on the subject, because, as they say, knowledge is power, and let's face it, I was feeling pretty darn powerless. And that was how I first discovered alternative treatments for my disorder, a more natural approach. So in stepped Naturopathic Medicine into my life. Or Eastern. And In my opinion a God send. I'll admit I was a bit sceptical at first, but I felt like I had absolutely nothing to lose, so I found a licensed Naturopathic Doctor, and began frequenting his clinic.
Enter Acupuncture. I started my acupuncture treatments on my very first visit. Dr. B told me he could establish a cycle for me, and that in time, and with frequent treatments, it would stimulate ovulation, my hormones would naturally balance out, and he was confident that babies would be in my near future. He empathized with me, understood all my concerns, even took the time to talk to me about it all when no other health care professional did, not even my own Doctor. He offered me hope, and I grabbed that hope with both hands, determined to hold on to it.
Tap. That was the only sensation I felt as each pin entered my body. With 5 in each leg, and 6 in my pelvic area, I laid there looking like a human porcupine, and feeling a little bit ridiculous. I asked, "Why my legs, too?", and was informed that there are nerves within the legs that run up and into the reproductive system, and that he was attempting to stimulate and clear of any blockages. I can see the logic in that, it makes sense I suppose, I thought with a shrug. I was open to anything at that point, and I couldn't knock it until I gave it a chance, otherwise that would have made me just an ignorant hypocrite.
After an hour and a half, I left Dr. B's office, feeling relatively positive and not really sure what to expect. Truthfully, I never really had any expectations, so when I woke the following morning, I was caught off guard and delightfully surprised... Aunt Flo had her bags in hand and was knocking at my door. I was ecstatic! A period of my very own, 'magine that! Less than 24 hours after the first treatment, and the first order of success had been completed. Coincidence? I think, and know not. It confirmed my belief beyond a shadow of a doubt in Acupuncture. I was sold on it.
A week and a half later at my following appointment with Dr. B he asked me right away, "So, have you noticed any changes since your last visit?" And with a huge smile on my face, I excitedly replied, "I had a period. A normal period!" With a smile of his own, he said, "I figured that's what you'd tell me."
Since then I've now had 4 rounds of acupuncture,(my 5th this coming Monday), now including 8 pins in my lower back, and certain nerves along my spine. With every treatment, it gets more intense, as sensations grow more and more stronger. The only way I can explain it is as a warm, tingly current running up and down my body, it feels amazing. And now heat lamps are used to add heat energy to further intensify. It never fails, I just start into a blissful sleep, and slip into a dream, when I hear Dr. B say, "I'm gonna take these pins out now."
It's been just 6 weeks into treatments, and I've had two regular cycles now. I do not suffer from the uncomfortable and constant bloating I had prior, my pelvic pain had ceased, and the ever-present cramping in my lower back is now non-existent. I can feel the change in my body, and it continues to change, to heal. And to think, all this without having to turn to those harsh hormone treatments first mentioned, with lists of side effects a mile long. That was always my last resort anyway, I was terrified of them.
Just a little pin prick?
...No just my saving grace.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Shake me, wake me, don't let this nightmare take me!
I have always been told that I have an excellent memory, and this is true. There is far little in my life that I do not have a detailed recollection of, even from a very young, and tender age. Therefore, I can easily remember being but 5 years old, and sitting in a little, white-washed, wooden lawn chair, in the front lawn of my father's house. It was mid-afternoon, the sun was shining, there was a gentle warm breeze kissing my warmed skin, and I had a small notebook in hand. I was dreaming. Not the kind of dream that you have to be asleep for, but the kind of dream that you envision awhile you're awake, a dream of the future - And my dream, to grow up to be a Mommy.
With my chubby little hand, I sat jotting down names for the future children, and without a moment's hesitation I can still tell you those exact names. I'm 27, (almost 28) now, and true, those names have changed many times throughout the course of the years, but one thing that has always been a constant, and has never changed, is the fact that I want to be a Mommy. It's my destiny, I've always thought that, felt that. That my sole purpose of being put on this earth was to be some one's Mommy. That some future, pending soul needed my love and guidance, as much as I needed theirs. And so, this past January, when I heard the words, "Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome," that's when my dream became a dream of nightmarish proportions.
Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS), or also known as, Polycystic Ovarian Disease, no matter how you say it, or what you call it, it all means the same thing to me, worst nightmare. The nightmare part? Infertility. Hurts to even use that word, it's ugly, but nonetheless, it's my reality, PCOS is the leading cause of infertility in women. Lucky me, I'm in that 5-8% of women who suffer from it. Of course I use sarcasm when saying this, I hate this. And the funny thing about this, or not so funny, is that I'm not at all surprised, it figures. You see, deep down I've always had this fear that somehow something would hinder my having children, and I was right. Fear or intuition? They say we know our bodies best, right?
Anteverted uterus, cervical cysts, collection of pelvic fluid, polycystic ovaries abnormally massive; fluid filled, amenorrhea...infertility. Kind of difficult to achieve pregnancy when you have no cycle, do not ovulate, and can not release an egg. It all completely has devastated me, I cry a lot these days, like I say, worst nightmare. I ache for a baby, and I refuse to accept that it might never happen when it's all I've ever wanted out of this life. I also refuse to let this dream be stolen from that 5 year-old girl. She first dreamed the dream, so I'm gonna be the one to make it a reality. A dream realized is a dream hoped for, right? I'll fight this, I vow, and I'll be one of those success stories, just you wait an see.
To be continued...
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