One door closes . . .

So last week I felt pretty sorry for myself … until I visited my herbalist.  For all her wacky ways she has a way of making me feel much better.  She pointed out that I’m on high doses of hormones and I’ve been on and off steroids for the last few months.  She was impressed that I’ve been managing at all!  Her additional take on this is that I’ve also changed a lot and when I go back to these friends I become the person I once was and I don’t like it.  Interestingly my husband has said that over the last three years I’ve not wanted to go on the weekends away with these girls and I’d stopped reporting that I’d been enjoying them – my best friend echoed the same.  I have changed.  My personality when I’m with my new friends is much different.  I’m more fun, more chilled and generally more like who I want to be.  And I really don’t like becoming the whiney, stroppy girl I was last week.  My herbalist thinks it needed to end in a big bang because I was clinging onto a friendship that wasn’t really going anywhere and that was actually dragging me down.  I think I agree.  Having reflected on the support I’ve had from them since MC number 1 it’s been pretty poor.  So for what purpose do I need to keep trying?

Whilst this was happening I put up a forum post about it on a recurrent miscarriage forum and someone contacted me and asked if I’d like to meet up.  It turns out we live in the same area and so we had coffee & cake on Saturday (don’t tell my herbalist!)  – and she’s so lovely!  So, while the door has definitely closed on the three girls from last weekend, this weekend saw a brand new door open.

I’ve also contacted some girls I’ve made tentative friendships with over the last six months and invited them out for dinner.  I have friend-dates lined up every day for the next two weeks :).  I am getting a new life for myself, and I should probably be grateful for the disastrous events of last weekend for giving me the kick I needed.

My herbalist also pointed out that when I was just following her advice my cycles were perfect: 28 days long, ovulation on Day 14, no mid-cycle bleeds.  Now I bleed just about every day, my cycles are getting shorter and my period lasts for less than a day.  She blames the chemicals (she would!).  But she makes a good point.  So for now because we’re just waiting for IVF anyway I’ve gone back to her regime.  I’ve stopped the Cyclogest and the steroids and have picked the diet back up again (almost).

Time to get back to being the new me!

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I’ve crashed

Image result for funny pictures with captions depressed

I thought I’d been managing to hold it together but it seems that I haven’t.  The friends thing that I’ve harked on about for a while now came to an abrupt conclusion this weekend.

The three girls that were supposed to come to stay in January last year came to stay in my town.  Two days beforehand I asked if I could be picked up on the way to the hotel as I lived nearby.  Unbeknownst to me the driver has a phobia of driving in my town so she asked if we could just meet in town instead.  I (being overly sensitive) got upset that she wouldn’t take a 5 minute detour when it takes me an hour and twenty to get to town.  I messaged back saying surely the hotel was easier for them too but got no reply.  I tried ringing her but she didn’t pick up.  I could see that she’d read my messages on Facebook because it tells you, so in my mind she was avoiding me and I didn’t know why.  I rang one of the other girls.  She had a migraine and said she’d ring the next day.  But she didn’t get chance.  She said she’d ring the next day too.  But she didn’t.  By then this was the day of and I’d sent a couple of really stressed out messages to the Mutual Friend.  I’d had a text from the Driver who’d said she’d pick me up, but I thought it might actually be out of her way if she was coming in on a different road so I said I’d get the bus.

Once in town I received a text saying they were at the hotel.  Really?  I replied.  So I could have had a lift…  Cue massive row.  Underlying all this is that I’d texted the Driver in May to say I’d had a miscarriage and she never replied.  I’d assumed she’d forgotten but I was still hurt.  Normally I don’t confront this sort of issue but I’d planned to and had told our Mutual Friend about this.  I didn’t get the chance.  The Driver rang me saying that they’d discussed it on the way over and that they were all “in bits” about seeing me and didn’t really want to.  She said she was ringing to say sorry but she didn’t know what it was she’d done & that it was unintentional.  When I say she said sorry, she said “SORRY!!!!!”.  It turns out she’s been having problems herself and has nearly had two nervous breakdowns this year.  Again I didn’t realise & my heart broke as she told me that.  I realised that as much as I have things going on, so does everyone else.  She puts up a facade on Facebook – it looks like she’s living the dream – but apparently it’s not real.

I felt awful but I was still hurting and tried to explain why.  Although she did listen I didn’t really feel that she processed what I had said.  Eventually we met up but we didn’t discuss it at all.  For the whole weekend.  The mutual friend and I did and she gave me a reality check.  A harsh one but probably a fair one.  She said that it was my problem and that although she understood I’m going through a difficult time she couldn’t get to the bottom of why I felt that the Driver didn’t have a very high opinion of me.  It’s cliche I know but  I don’t think anyone should have a high opinion of me.  I can’t have children.  It’s not that I don’t want them.  I desperately want them but I can’t.  It’s such a basic flaw in my schema and when I meet these three, obviously they all talk about their children and I feel very out of place. (I only think this about myself by the way, not anyone else struggling to have children & I’m aware that that’s not rational).   The mutual friend said I needed to sort it out (she acknowledged that this is not easy) and said I needed to consider whether my move abroad will actually fix my issues.

The next day they left together and I spent the entire day in tears.  I also sent the Driver some flowers to apologise for being over-sensitive and hurting her.  She texted me today to thank me but said she’s still struggling to let go of the hurt caused at the weekend.  She was tactful not to say the hurt that I had caused.  She then said she can’t get over the fact that I thought that she’d been intentionally hurtful.  This is something I was careful not to say because genuinely I don’t think for a second she was.  Somehow I’ve given out a misconception which I feel I need to put right but feel it could cause more stress.  She ended the text by saying we’re both too sensitive to be around each other and advised that I find a safe place and look after myself.  So I’ve ruined an eleven year friendship in one weekend.  Well done me!

It’s probably deserved but I’m hurting again.  I’m hurting because I think very highly of this friend and I suppose this is why I felt so rejected when I thought she didn’t acknowledge my miscarriage or when she wouldn’t pick me up or answer the phone.  Plus I’m ridiculously over-sensitive and hormonal at the moment.  Confrontation is really not me and I am truly scarred by this experience.  I’m hurting because I went to meet the three of them, knowing they’d discussed it, knowing they were upset with me, but I still went because the friendship had meant something to me and I’d wanted to sort it out.  I’m hurting because I don’t think I got my message across at all and the fact that they thought I’d believed her behaviour was intentional demonstrates that they didn’t fully hear what I was trying to say.  I’m hurting because essentially I’ve lost those three friends now.

I’m really, really hurting.

I read somewhere that people with recurrent miscarriage have the same anxiety levels as soldiers with PTSD.  I was a bit dismissive of that statement at first although it came from a credible source.  Lately I’ve been thinking how true it sounds.  I’m currently agonising over every last thing I do. Particularly on my 2WW but even more so when I’m pregnant.  I cannot move for worrying about whether or not a) I’m possibly pregant and b) whether what I’m doing might kill any potential baby.  I live with this night and day.  I eat fruit because I need the vitamin C but then I stress about eating too much sugar.  Then I eat chocolate because I feel I’m not enjoying myself enough and then I stress about that too.  Then I stress about being stressed!  I’m on alert every minute of every day and my fight or flight response is on a knife edge.  Every time I feel threatened I react.  I’m not excusing this.  Of course not, this is an awful problem to have.  I’m trying really hard to understand it.  Otherwise the three friends I have just lost will be joined by everyone else I care about.  And then I really will be depressed.

 

 

IVF funding rejected

Recently I went on holiday – just for a week – to my parents who live in France.  I loved it at first but as the end of the holiday came nearer I found my self dreading going home.  I’ve never felt like that before.  I always feel a little bit down about going home but that’s usually it.  This time I cried for the last two days – somewhat ruining the holiday!  I’m also a bit of a sun fiend and the weather is never reliable in France so we had some cloudy days.  My mother takes it really personally if I get upset about the weather – and again it’s never made me cry before – but this time I did & my mother got cross & I left France crying, not speaking to my mother.  Fun times!  It wasn’t my usual post-holiday blues.  This was about returning to “infertility”.  While I was on holiday I could forget it a bit.  It was really lovely & I began to panic when I realised I was coming back to it again.

Once we got back we were literally plunged back to our infertile sub-life as we discovered that my gynaecologist had sent my funding request for IVF.  He’s asking our CCG if they’ll consider funding it even though I don’t meet the criteria.  I don’t meet it because I have been pregnant in the last twelve months but it hardly seems fair because I equally don’t have a baby as a result of my pregnancies.  We quickly sent off a letter in support but it got rejected the next day.  I very much doubt they even read the letter.  So I literally sobbed on the kitchen floor for about two hours until a very kind friend took pity on me & agreed to take me out to get drunk. (I’d done a pregnancy test that day too – negative – very bad day!!).

With the sobbing & drinking done & dusted I finally felt able to form a plan.  Being misdiagnosed with epilepsy has cost me seven years of being able to try for a family.  This is because I was never stable on the medication & a seizure can cause a hypoxia to a baby.  When I started trying in 2014 I was as stable as I could be & I took a very calculated risk.  I miscarried but I hadn’t had a seizure so I didn’t attribute it to that.  However I did think it might be due to my meds.  With my next pregnancy they took me off the meds & all my seizures stopped.  The diagnosis has now been withdrawn & I’ve been seizure-free ever since.

I’ve been in touch with my GP who has already written a letter of appeal, stating that this misdiagnosis has disadvantaged me.  My consultant has done the same and I’ve contacted a friend of mine who writes arguments for a living so hopefully she will be able to help.  This friend does not feel my urgency though.  She will do it in two weeks time.  I’ve been hovering between being eternally grateful that she’s trying & simlutaneously wanting to ask her if she can hurry up.  I’ve opted for being grateful.  She has step-kids and they have put her off having babies for life.  So I really understand why she can’t fathom why this is so important to me.  Finally I’ve written to my MP.  Hopefully she will agree to take on my case and add weight to my appeal.

So that’s that for now.  I am a lot more sane now than I was last week.  Once more I have to wait though & I still haven’t acquired any patience.  Meanwhile I have some horrendous patienTS who are keeping me on my toes – literally for some of them because they are aggressive and bite and spit and hit and molest me when I get close enough.  I am starting to think I would like a nice quiet job in a flower shop.  But then some of my really cognitively impaired but very sweet patients say things that are super nice, or their face lights up when I enter the room & then I think I have the best job ever.  Most of the time.  It’ll do as a distraction while I await the next step of my appeal.