I Will Always Be a Stirrup Queen

I will always be a Stirrup Queen.

My crown will never loose it sparkly sheen.

Whether I’m testing, cycling,

or somewhere in between

I will always be a Stirrup Queen.

My world will never be the same.

There is no going back to the way I came.

I will always be a Stirrup Queen.

Tests, fears, and tears,

it’s enough to age you a few years.

There a place I dream of making it to,

so this process I must go through.

I will always be a Stirrup Queen.

Clomid, IUI, IVF, Donor Eggs, Sperm, Surrogate..

My whole world could change in a minute.

I will always be a Stirrup Queen.

Birth Defect, Translocation, ICSI, PGD…

How could all of this be?

Please note my empirial position,

never guarantees a cheery disposition.

I will always be a Stirrup Queen.

Decisions, decisions.  I need a direction.

Come  here, my king, and give me some affection.

I will always be a Stirrup Queen.

I have many a option.

I chose to pursue adoption.

What to do with my crown?

You will have to kill before I ever lay it down!

I will always be a Stirrup Queen!

For the First Time

For the first time in a long time I entered B.abies R Us without it feeling like torture.  My mother and I had been discussing the things we still need to purchase for our infant and toddler rooms.  The list was getting long, and then the suggestion was made, “Well, why not make a registry for all of the items you still need to get?”  Great idea!  Eureka!  “Then, you have a list of items you still want and need to get.  And then you also have a registry for that baby shower we are going to have!” said my mother.  I glowed.

We walked in, and sat down at the registry desk.  I told him I was there to start a registry.  Of course, I’m sure my husband will have plenty more items to add to this list, but at least I had the time to wander around without nine million children in the store.  We filled out the necessary forms, and there was even an adopting box to check.  Wonderful!  So, we got our package of information for soon to be parents.  All very exciting.

We grabbed the gun with gusto, and began bravely browsing baby belongings.  Stroller…check…swing…check…I can’t believe this is happening…check…yup, really happening!

Hmmmm…

In college I had a professor who assigned us the heinous task of writing a five page report on who we are.  Some people groaned, myself included, and others seemed to be so excited.  Those who were excited seemed to know who they were.  They didn’t need to run to the library at lightening speed to find a philosophy about learning who they are and what they are all about.  Why was this one essay so difficult for me?  I had conquered Bronte, Machiavelli, and Wordsworth.  Surely I can write five pages about somebody I know so personally! 

It took me forever to write this essay.  I began to brainstorm:  College Student, Daughter, Sister, ummmm…Wife.  All great but I doubt it was what the teacher was looking for.  I delved deeper:  Extroverted, timely, sensitive, loyal, honest, afraid, confused.  Oh dear, what was I going to write!?  I eventually managed to put fingers to keyboard, and hammer out something worthy of reading.  However, I cited more resources than you can shake a stick at.  My professor gave me back my paper and simply said, “Try again, and this time dig deeper.”

Crap.  At least she didn’t give me a poor grade.  So, I doubled my  efforts.  I came to the firm conclusion that who you are is like water.  Sometimes like the solid form, others the liquid or even gas.  We can be frozen in one place and time, and can’t move forward.  I was stuck in a failing marriage.  Other times we are like waters gaseous form, where we simply can’t keep our feet on the floor.  We are just all over the place.  What I was striving to be was like water.  Flexible, adaptive, and for life to be clear.  I couldn’t pin down one solid description of myself.  I was lost. 

There is the you that was, the you that is, and the you that is yet to be.  I couldn’t write that essay as well as I wanted, because I had no clue who I was.  I did know that I didn’t like who I was.  I was throwing my life into striving to be the me that was yet to be.  This has only gotten worse with infertility.  Somewhere on your quest to parenthood (striving for the you that is yet to be,) I lost the me that is.  What I forgot that all there is was the me that was, and the me that is.  I can’t change who I am yet to be, but every day I can shape the me that is.  Confused yet?  So, reconciling who you were, are, and will be, is quite the process.  I think today I could sit in that class, and be those students squealing for joy, because there would be no need for research for this paper.  I’m so thankful for that.

Something to Think About – Updated

I just love Dr. O.z.  Ok, so it’s not just Dr. M.ehmet Oz, but also M.ichael R.oizen. Their new book, You on a Diet is wonderful.  It is funny and interesting.  I’ve learned a great deal about how my body actually works.  This hit me while I was reading today.  This is from page 94.

• When you have chronic stress, your body increases its productin of steroids and insulin, which …
• Increases your appetite which…
• Increases the chance you’ll engage in hedonistic eating in the form of high-calorie sweets and fats, which…
• Makes you store more fat, especially in the omentum, which…
• Pumps more fat and inflammatory chemicals into the liver, which…
• Creates a resistance to insulin, which…
• Makes your pancreas secrete more insulin to compensate, which…
• Make you hungrier than a muzzled wolf, which…
• Continues the cyle of eating because you’re stressed and being stressed beacause you are eating.

So, could the source of my insulin resistance be in part due to the chronic stress of infertility?  Just something to chew on.  Ok, bad choice of words there, but you get the idea!

Current weight loss is now 3.2 pounds (as of 1-29-07.)  Yeeeessss!   

Class Number 3

CLASSES: 

That’s right, seven left to go! 

I should have worn water proof mascara and brought a box of tissues to class yesterday.  Our topic was becoming loss experts.  We went through the life cycle of an average person, and listed their losses and gains that are expected.  Then, we discussed losses that we may encounter that weren’t expected.  Halfway through the page, the instructor (whom I adore) says, “Just like Rebecca (She prefers to call me Rebecca, but everybody else calls me Becky) experienced…You could have a birth defect.”  Everybody looks towards me, and shakes their head.  It wasn’t in a bad way, but rather in a Yeah That Probably Does Suck a Lot kind of way.  She then apologizes for calling me out, and I reassured her it wasn’t a big deal.  After all, I had already brought it up during our initial Why Are You Here discussion.  To be honest, it was really ok.  She was right, it is an unexpected loss. 

Then, we went through the grieving process, and the visible outwards signs of that said process.  There it was in black in white, my birth defect and how it may be grieved.  Shock, denial, bargaining, anger, sadness/depression, acceptance/understanding.  Those are the text book phases of the grieving process.  However, our class is taught by a social worker and an actual long time foster adoptive parent.  She added a new phase to the list… twirley.  Twirly is that state where you aren’t quite sure what you feel, and to the outside world you appear normal.  However, twirly is the combination of a twisted stomach and heart, and feeling as if the outside world is whirling around you.  Oh, do I understand twirley.  That was the foster parent teacher’s addition.  How did twirley come about?  We found out after a tearful journal entry from her after the deaths of her three children. 

After listening to her heart fealt and tearful story, we watched an even more tear jerking video montage of their lives.  All three obvioulsy disabled, and only living to the tender ages of three and four.  That was the reason she became a foster parent.  The next video explained why she has stayed a foster parent.  (Oh the tissues that were needed!)  We were all encouraged to be honest with ourselves and our motives.  We didn’t discuss them openly, but asked to look inside ourselves for ourselves and for the sake of the children.  We will need that motivation many times throughout our journey they explained. 

So, our home work for this week includes a lengthy set of questions discussing our infertility.  Good fun.

HOUSEHOLD TASKS:

Today we (ok, my husband and father) are putting up crown moulding in our dining room.  Very exciting! 

DIET:

The low carb high protein diet is not as bad as it could be.  Although I openly admit to acting like a two year old when you need a microscope to find the mashed potatoes on my plate at dinner.  I went to the grocery store last night by myself so I could take all the time in the world to examine every label.  I found food that I can eat that will satisfy my chocolate craving, carb craving, you name it!  It just took a lot of looking and creativity.  So, I’m more comfortable with it now.  Shout it from the rooftops, in the past two days I’ve lost 2.2  pounds!  This just might be working.  It may be uncomfortable now, but I’m sure I will find a way to make it better.  (Heck, I am already.)  So, this is me giving PCOS a giant kick in the ass (ok, and maybe even flipping it the bird.  You didn’t read that mom and mom in-law!) 

For those wishing to play along, here are the diet rules again:

Total Calories:  1200-1400 per day

Total Carbs:  100 grams per day

Total Sat Fat:  <20 grams per day

You must eat three meals and two snacks per day, with protein at each meal.  You should eat a limited amount of bread, pasta, rice, potatoes, and sweats.  This does not mean they need to be eliminated, but rather planned and accounted for. Let me know if you are giving it a try. 

I hope to see you all on Monday, but I’ll be busy sewing (ok, really watching my mother sewing…since, well, I just plain stink at it) curtains for the children’s rooms.  I’m sure you will get pictures soon. 

PCOS- Updated

Update:

For a complete b*tch fest on PCOS, go visit It Could Take Three Months.  Love it! 

I am interested in hearing what the good doc has to say about my insulin levels this go around.  I’m eating his diet, and am curious how that will affect my levels. 

What’s PCOS?  Click here.  Happy reading to you!   Go here too!  Mel’s done a great job putting this info together.

I don’t have the typical large amounts of facial hair.  (Go read the article now!  If you are wondering what the heck I’m talking about.  Please?)  I do have the skin tags.  I have the extra weight, my insulin is affected, and I have acne that will not go away no matter what I do.  Of course they say infertility is an indicator, check that box too.  Anovulation, check.  Irregular periods, check. 

So, the treatment for people with PCOS is often Metformin (AKA Glucophage.)   In addition, being placed on a higher protein/low carb diet, is supposed to help.  Of course, let’s not forget excercising too. 

Soooo, is is really wrong to hope that my insulin levels come back normal, and I can stick my head in the sand and will this to just go away?

What do you know about PCOS?  Any more tips?  Experiences?

Thera.Flu

Ahhhh yes, Thera.flu is my friend.  It’s no Star.bucks latte, but it is the equivalant of liquid gold when your sinus are going to explode, your head hurts, and you feel like a truck just ran you over.  I guess the vacuuming will have to wait.  The laundry can sit for a few hours.  The bed probably won’t get made.  The world won’t come to some screeching halt.  Thank heavens.

Well, yesterday we went to neighbor K’s house, and she told us she would need more surgery.  It turns out that it was/is a tumor in her breast.  A rare non cancerous tumor, but they didn’t get it all.  So, she goes in again next week to go back under the knife.  I just wanted to hug her, because I know how upset she is.  I’m sure at some point during the day, I will meander over there in my pajamas with my mug of Thera.flu.  You can’t beat having a friend who could not care less that you look like crap, and couldn’t care more that you feel like crap. 

A dropped off the two baby cribs to our hosue the other day, and my husband and father played a game of How Do We Get These Cribs Down the Narrow Hallway?  I now have two cribs in the infant room.  Two cribs?  Yes, two cribs.  They were practically a steal, and if you have two cribs….just maybe, they will be filled.  (I can hope right?)  Regardless the room is taking shape, and it is adorable!  My mother purchased material for us to make curtains for both of the rooms next week.  How exciting!  We still need a few things, but they will just have to wait. 

I’m currently reading Telling the Truth to Your Adopted or Foster Child, Making Sense of the Past by Betsy Keefer and Jane E. Schooler.  If you are adopting, have recently adopted, considering foster care or foster to adopt programs…run and pick this book up.  My copy was mailed to me (on loan) from Alabama Post Adoption Connections. I did not have to pay for them to mail it to me, or for the postage to return the books. 

My dislike of my ovaries continues. If I start to lose my hair due to PCOS, all hell is going to break loose.  That’s all I have for now.  I have to go and do my home work for class number three tomorrow. 

Mmmmm…celery?

Yesterday, I went to the doctor to discuss PCOS and my weight.  What a combination made in hell.  So, he has put me on a diet that consists of 1200-1400 calories a day,  with only 100 grams of carbs, less than 20 grams sat fat, limited/avoided bread, pasta, rice, potatoes, and sweets.  (Even though I eat only whole wheat bread and pasta.)  I also have to have three meals a day and two snacks.  Each meal must have protein.  So, this pretty much looks like a diabetics diet to me.  I’m none to thrilled.  While I will do whatever it takes to combat the PCOS and weight gain, that doesn’t mean I have to like it.  I go in for bloodwork on Tuesday to check my insulin levels and cholesterol.  A week after that, I go back in to go over the results.  At that point, he will most likely prescribe some weight loss medication in addition to continuing my life long diet that I absolutely hate.  C’mon, who really wants to cut out pasta, bread, pizza, carbs, sweets, etc from their diet?  Let’s face it, nobody goes, “Mmmmm…..celery!” 

Either way, the good doc wants the weight down, and is serious about helping me get there.  However, he said that thanks to PCOS it will be a life long battle.  Damn ovaries.  It’s bad enough to have a bum uterus, but bum ovaries too?  That just plain stinks.  I can’t wait to be no longer emotionally attached to my ovaries.  Because let me tell you, I’d love to kick them to the curb, so I can delight in some pasta!  I’m so angry and upset that my body has continually let me down. 

When you are staring down the barrel of a sixty pound (minimally) weight loss goal, you are very aware of how much you simply can’t stand your ovaries.  Without them, I wouldn’t be in this situation.  I told my mom yesterday, I should have them removed, freeze some, and donate the rest.  Would that solve the PCOS?  Hmmm, better check Dr. Google.  Does anybody know?

Better go munch on some more damn celery. (Yes, I am pissy.  So there!)

Picture Post

So, today went wonderfully for Neighbor K, and for Little K.  My mom stopped  by to share in the fun too!

 Did you know blinds are all kinds of fun to play with?

  Hide and Go Seek is a blast!

  Hey, this doll looks like me!  The new room color is in the background.

  Hmmm…what to color?

  We built a tent that was a lot of fun to play in!

  Laundry baskets can double as recliners! 

  Double fisted cookie eater.  My mother’s idea, not mine!

With the Little One

Tomorrow my friend and neighbor K is having surgery on her breast to remove a lump.  The relative of hers that was supposed to watch Little K (her daughter) asked if somebody else could watch her since her husband will be off tomorrow.  Sometimes I wonder about friends and freindship.  So, tomorrow I will be watching the little one tomorrow.  So, I’m sure I will be running in circles all day. 

I’ve been tasked with taking pictures of the little one for her mother.  Shutterfly has a wonderful small brag book that fits perfectly into a nurse’s uniform pocket.  Since I love taking pictures, it should be a fun task!