Of crazy thoughts

Thank you to everyone that has been praying for, thinking of, and supporting me. It means more than I can say.

The day after my OB appointment everything went to hell.  My anxiety was finally more than I could deal with. I wanted to die. I couldn't think of a way to kill myself that wouldn't leave my husband and children traumatized. I couldn't think of a way to kill myself that wouldn't ruin a room of the house for them. But I so badly wanted to end the hell I was living in my mind. If you've never experienced severe anxiety or depression I know this sounds crazy (and crazy is exactly what it was).

After a few hours of not finding a solution to my dilemma I called my therapist and my OB for help. They both agreed that I needed inpatient treatment and sent me to the local mental hospital for evaluation. After meeting with a staff member and answering 1,001 questions, they agreed. They said I'd probably be there 3 days.

To say this is the most terrifying thing I've ever done is putting it mild. All I knew to expect was the portrayals I've seen on TV. I even admitted to my therapist that I was scared they'd tie me to a bed and let me suffer until my meds kicked in since there's no immediately effective drugs I can take right now.

The whole experience was so surreal. I feel like any minute I'll wake up and this whole pregnancy and the myriad of issues it's brought with it will have never been.

My doctor at the hospital was wonderful. He upped my nausea medicine and added another one (which also helped me sleep). He added another medication to help ease the anxiety and also help me sleep. He then added another medication that would take a little longer to kick in but would help with the anxiety.

My social worker was a complete waste of time. She actually said to me, "Aren't you concerned about all the medicines you're taking affecting the baby?" I told her I trusted my doctor and that the meds are better than the alternative. When we realized all the phenergan I'd been taking was building up in my system and having a bad reacting, she said, "See. You don't need all those meds!" She also told me, "You have to figure out what triggered your anxiety. There's a good chance the meds won't help you and you'll have to just deal with this." She also wrote down an appointment with my doctor, but never scheduled it. She sucks. Big time.

Seven days later, I was allowed to go home. Seven days later I finally saw my children again.

So now I'm still dealing with hyperemesis. I haven't thrown up in a couple of days, but the nausea is always present and frequently overwhelming. I've also been diagnosed with hypothyroidism. I'm also having some issues with my blood pressure.

Right now I'm working on being able to take care of the boys again. Food is a near impossibility at the moment. Luckily Tim is off work until the 11th. And he's been doing an absolutely amazing job with the boys and the house!!!!

I have another appointment with my OB tomorrow. I'm sure they'll reassure me Thumper is OK. I'm truly excited about this pregnancy and am worried about what all this stress could have done.

Oh yeah. My MIL has been trying to convince Tim to bring the kids to her for a few weeks. Seriously lady? No freaking way!!! I may be crazy, but she's INSANE!

Double Standards

The world is full of double standards.  They're all over the place and cannot usually be avoided.  But I never realized how full my own head was with them.

I'm full of double standards.  They suck, but I don't know how to get around them.  I don't even know why I put them there!  And it had to be me, who else would be in my head?  What am I screwing myself about?  Grief.

For some reason I seem to feel that I have no right to grieve right now.  I'm blessed with two beautiful children, a wonderful husband, the luxury to stay at home with my children, and so much more.  Every time I start to get down about my recent miscarriage, I try to reason with myself.  "Yes, you lost that baby, but look at what you've been given!"  Really?  Really, Amanda?  WTH?

I would expect anyone out there that has suffered a loss to be heartbroken!  Early loss, ectopic, first trimester loss, second loss, stillbirth, neonatal death, failed adoption, etc...I'd expect anyone to cry, rage, mourn their loss.  But for some reason I won't allow myself.

I'd be the first one to say that grief can't be compared, yet I find myself comparing mine.  I'm comparing what I'm going through to everyone's situations.  She lost a parent.  She is losing a husband.  She's having her (insert number here) miscarriage.  She doesn't have any children, yet.  She is living a farce of a marriage.  He is about marry for the wrong reasons...for the second time.  Why do I do this?

My grief is MINE and mine ALONE.  I'm heartbroken.  I'm stuck waking up to the fact every morning that I'm no longer pregnant; there is no longer another life inside of me.  I keep having the what-she-would-have-grow-up-to-do thoughts, and have to remind myself that she won't be anything...she's dead.

And I'm trying to grieve, but every time I do...every time I start to get misty eyed I go hug my boys.  It makes me feel better, but it also keeps me from feeling my grief.  How am I supposed to keep this from eating away at me if I won't let it out?

I've also raged and vented about how so many people try so hard to say the "right" thing and end up screwing it up royally.  I don't know how many times I've said "the best thing to say is "I'm sorry" and "I'm praying for you" or "I'm thinking of you"."  You know what I've caught myself saying when people have said I'm sorry?  "It happens."  WHAT???  Yes, it happens (duh), but why can't I just accept the condolences?

I want to stand on the mountain and scream at the skies, "WHY ME?!?!?" but then I think, "why anyone? why her? or her?"  I even wrote that I didn't feel I deserved this pregnancy before I even found out it was doomed.  ("I’ve already been blessed so much…why would I deserve any more?"  But I do want more.

But I don't want more, I just want what I thought I was getting.  I want my baby back.  (and could I freaking shoot myself every time I think that? I get the stupid Chili's baby-back rib commercial stuck in my head every. freaking. time. and now I'm hungry and revolted at the same time.)

Dream a little dream

I remember talking to my Mom the other day comparing this pregnancy with the boys.  I told her finding out I was pregnant and it was twins was "like a dream come true"!  It was amazing and wonderful and all the other good things you use to describe events like that.

But it wasn't how I'd planned.  It was work.  I was lucky that we managed to conceive the boys pretty much the old fashioned way, but OMG the chore of having sex at that point!  I know too many of you know what I mean.  It was a chore to have sex at that point and on more than one occasion Tim and I wished we could just skip the sex part and go right to the rolling over and going to sleep part.  But it worked and I was happy.

I told her this pregnancy was like "waking up to a dream".  Tim and I had sex because we wanted to be intimate with each other...because we were in the mood.  And it made a life!  THIS is how we all dream it will be.  And it happened to me!

But now this dream feels like some kind of fucked up nightmare that you can't wake up from.  You don't know if you're going to run out of the abandoned building and run into a field of flowers or a field of rotting corpses.  The sense of foreboding is overwhelming, but you can't help but hope for those stupid flowers.

Right now I'm full of hope (thank you everyone for your love and support, you mean so much to me!) but can't shake the feeling that I'm about to walk into the wrong field.  I'd really like to wake up, now.  I'd like to wake up to my before, please.  Before the positive test.  Before the asshole doctor on base.  Before the ER trip and being told "the baby is in the uterus".  Before the overly cheery ultrasound technician yesterday.

Not quite as I had planned - updated with pic

I had my first OB appointment and real ultrasound for this pregnancy today.  I am currently 7w6d.  The Nugget is only measuring 5w6d and the heartbeat is too weak to measure (for the record, at 5w6d a too weak to measure heartbeat is perfectly fine).  Two weeks behind. This is not good.

The very cheery ultrasound tech informs me that I must have my dates wrong.  I am pretty damn sure my dates are fine; it's the baby that's not.  For the baby to be OK I would have to have conceived right around 12/10...you know...the day I had a beta of 68.  Pretty sure that didn't happen.  She was cheery and positive nonetheless. I appreciate her optimism.  I honestly do.

The doctor was a bit more realistic.  He didn't schedule me for another OB appointment, just another ultrasound.  He wanted to wait two weeks, but Tim will be out of the country in two weeks. I cannot go to my next ultrasound without him.  He also mentioned the yolk sac size vs the embryo size and used the lovely word "chromosomal".  Yeah...large sac small baby...genetically not right, I get it.

So for now I sit and wait for a miracle.  I'm not very good at waiting or at optimism.  I'm a realistic type of person.  Tim is being wayyyy optimistic and I'm trying to not crush his spirit.  I'd really like to go ahead and see if my Mom can come into town in two weeks so I can have someone here to let me be a big baby if I have to get a D&C.

The worst part?  Seeing that little flickering heart.  She let us look at it for a couple of minutes...it was both beautiful and heartbreaking.  I think I would have rather not seen a heartbeat at all.  She also gave us a picture.  Proof that my Nugget was here.

But I am still grateful for things.  I'm grateful that after this horrible day I still have to beautiful little ones to come home to.  I'm grateful to have a husband that is so supportive and hopeful.  I'm grateful that this happened after I had my boys instead of before.  I had a moment in 5 Guys (burger joint) after the appointment where I heard a little baby and turned around to see a beautiful little girl in a carrier.  I almost cried until it hit me like a brick that whether or not I get to keep this baby, I still have my boys.  Thank you God!  (don't get me wrong, this hurts like hell and I'd love to curl into a ball and sob, but it IS easier at this point than my first loss.)

So, if you pray, please pray for my Nugget.  If you don't pray, I could still use all the good thoughts and well wishes you would be willing to give.

[caption id="attachment_1345" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="The Nugget at 7w6d Measuring 5w6d - Sorry for the blurriness, she had to zoom in majorly to get the shot."][/caption]

Danifred could also use some love right now.  She went in for an ultrasound only to find out the baby had quit growing.

Cry, Cry Baby

Yeah, in case you were wondering, this post isn't about the babies.  Or at least not the little ones.  All about me right now.  (the boys are definitely part of the subject, but it really is all about me.)

These hormones suck ass.  Major stinky ass.  I spent the majority of the day yesterday crying.  Why, you ask?  Because I'm a bad Mom.  Because I'm not producing enough milk for one child, let alone two.  Because upping my intake means upping the times I pump.  Because my nipples throb (not cracked or dry or even red, just sore as hell).  Because my babies cry (yeah, I know they do that...but in my effed up mind it right now...).  Because I'm tired.  Because my dogs aren't getting enough attention.  Because I want to do laundry.  Because I don't have time to read blogs and/or comment.  Because I marked 239 posts as "read".  Because the sun is shining.  Because the sun isn't shining.  Get the point?  And I really don't like to cry.

Everyone says breast feeding is hard and I've always figured it would be, but I didn't count low supply to be an issue.  I know my Mom had it, but my sister had no problem.  As it is, I wasn't even sure that my milk had come in until I missed a scheduled feeding + pumping and the next time I pumped I actually managed to get 80 cc's (total).  I've never felt the sensation I've heard you feel when your milk "lets down".  The girls have really let me down.  I'm not sure how much longer I want to suffer through trying to give my boys breast milk.  I mean, here's the schedule so far:  nurse baby until he falls off or 30 minutes (lactation consultant said don't let him go more than 30 minutes per breast), begin nursing other baby while holding soothie in first baby's mouth, change both babies, give both babies supplemental bottles (thank you boppy!), love on babies until they fall asleep, pump, try to sleep a few minutes, begin cycle again.  Do you see what I'm getting at?  And if I really want to get any sleep, I have to cut out the pumping part.

I spoke to someone about it yesterday and they told me that if I cut out the supplemental bottles that the boys will sleep less and want to breast feed more and my supply will increase.  I decided to give it a go.  Neither child would go to sleep until I gave them at least a little supplement.  No amount of nursing filled them up.  Trip was actually awake for 5 hours.  5 effing hours the poor little guy suffered.  And I couldn't nurse him anymore.  He would turn towards me (regardless of who was holding him) and root and cry and break my heart.  My babies were hungry and I couldn't help them.  Even typing this is making me cry.

Well, as much as I want to go on and on about how shitty I feel right now, someone is getting fussy.  Time to start the routine.  And seriously, I'm not asking for sympathy or begging for a poor-amanda, but if anyone has any advice, I'm all ears!

heartbroken

Mr. W didn't make rank.  He didn't pass the test.  He missed it by 8 points.  He is devestated.  He, in a drunken stupor last night, tried to convince me that I'd be better off without him.  He feels that I am too good for him (seriously?  have I ever told any of you how wonderful my dear husband is?) and could do better. 

Although the raise would have been nice considering we will be down to a one income household in 3 months, that is not important to me.  He's afraid that I won't be able to have as much spending money as I will want.  I don't care about spending money.  I just want him to be happy.

My poor baby.

Give me a f-ing break!

My seriously fertile IRL friend just announced to the world that she's pregnant with her third child.  And she's shocked.  Seriously?  Apparently she wasn't using a real form of birth control, or else she wouldn't be pregnant.  Her first born turns 3 in a few months.  Her second born turns 1 in a few months.  And now she's pregnant again. 

I remember her telling me her tale of woe right before I got my first disastrous BFP.  They had tried for almost a full year after she went off of BCP.  And when a close family member died and she wasn't thinking about getting pregnant, it finally happened for her.  But it was so tough for her to go that long trying.  Come on!  She had been on BCP for years.  So it took her body a little while to get adjusted to being allowed to ovulate.  Big flipping deal.

She told me last night that if she was (before she took a test, but she had already announced to all of myspace that she was "late and what if") she would be excited, but had hoped to start trying later in the year so they could have another summer baby.  Must be freaking nice.

Right after her second was born she said that she knew she wanted a third, and wanted to start trying right away, but her husband didn't want to.  Last I heard he still wanted to wait a while.  I guess she decided they weren't going to wait.

I hate that I'm so bitter about this, but I am.  I am so angry and bitter.  And for what?  Because it was so easy for her?  As far as the big picture goes, it wasn't that hard for me.  Yeah, it took a long time.  Yeah, I had some testing.  Yeah, I tried one fertility drug.  Yeah, I had an ectopic.  But that is nothing in the big picture.  That's nothing compared to what so many have been through.  But still!!!!

And if something happens and this pregnancy doesn't make it (yes, DBTs have started to work their way into my mind and the longer I go without an u/s the worse they get) then she'll have a new baby way too close to the time I would have. 

AAAAUUUGGGHHHH!!!!!!  I hate this!  Is this what I have become?

And I can't even post a congratulations to her.  Because I'm not happy for her.  This is crap.

11DPO

I'm pms-ing.  That's not good.  And I know that so many pms symptoms are so similar to BFP symptoms...but there's no way.  These aren't "something's happening" cramps...they're AF cramps.  These aren't "mood swings" these are get-away -from-me-before-i-kill-you-and-hide-your-body-in-the-freezer moods.  And that depresses the absolute hell out of me. 

I don't even want to talk to anyone IRL about it.  I don't want to remind those that know that this ends my "all-natural" baby making.  (Come on...really...what's natural about peeing on a stick for 10 - 20 days a month, timing sex, and using special lubricants?)  I know it's only Clomid, but it's more than I wanted.  Yeah, so what.  I know.  But it's breaking my heart.  I.  Don't.  Want.  This.

So while I'm thinking about what I need to do to make sure that I can get the prescription for Clomid in time, I'm beginning to figure out what I need to do to do an IUI...and that leads me (in my mind) to IVF.  I can't plan one without beginning planning for the other.  It's a vicious cycle that I can't get out of.  And I find myself thinking about these things all the time.  As if planning is giving me some form of control.  The worst part of this is that my mind never takes a break from it.  I'm exhausted.  I want to think about something else for a while...maybe just an hour.

Now on a completely different note:

Thank you all so much for your support with the dentist's appointment.  It really went better than I expected.  I was so excited by talking about my braces that the not-being-pregnant didn't really bother me too much.  But the love and support I got from you guys made it even better.  Just in case no one has told you today...YOU ROCK!

BV? Old Blood? WTH?? TMI ***updated***

So why can't anything be easy?

I had my HSG on Wednesday. 4 days later and I still have a brown chunky-ish discharge. It's not the consistency of a yeast infection, but more like there are tea leaves in the discharge. Besides the "chunks" the rest of the mess is fairly thin. But it's all brown. No odor to speak of, though.

Anyone had a similar experience or any advice? And before you tell me, I already plan on calling my Dr in the morning, but thought maybe someone might have some advice today.  For the record, I'm afraid it's BV and/or a yeast infection and that the meds for that would mean I'd have to not TTC this month.  Thank you!!!

***update***

It's almost all cleared up, now!  Woo Hoo!  I spoke with my doctor's nurse and she said that it's perfectly normal for me to have that discharge, but if it didn't go away to call them back.  All clear in time for a little possibly procreational recreation.  :-)

I know the fat lady has not sung

But I hear her warming up.

It's CD15 and there's not so much as a glimmer of a high reading on my CBEFM. 

Even though last month was anovulatory, at least I know my ovaries were trying.  Beginning around CD11 or 12 I got high readings.  The month before I had high readings beginning somewhere around the same time and I got a peak reading on CD17.  July, August, and September I ovulated on CD15 (at least that's when I got my LH surge) according to my OPKs. 

I have 5 more days left before hope gets kicked out the door.  If nothing has shown up on the monitor or the OPK strips (I'm using those in the afternoon), then I'll call the doctor and demand the testing that I should have demanded a long time ago.  It looks like I'll finally be taking some sort of action. 

I cried in the bathroom at church today when it hit me that this was my last month of all natural trying.  I know the next step will probably only entail a lot of tests and Clomid, but that's more than I was ready for.  Maybe that's why I've waited so long to make the call.

5 more days.  I'd really like a miracle, now, thank you.

Out with a...

...tear.  Or a bucket load of them, rather.

I'm trying to get ready for Mr. W's work party tonight and it's not quite going as planned.  A song came on the radio and I burst into tears.  I'm still crying as I type. 

Just the other night the baby was cryin
So I got out of bed rocked her awhile and I held her tight
And I told her it would be all right
My mind went back to a few years ago
We tried so long, we almost gave up hope
And I remember you comin' in and tellin me the news
Oh man we were livin, goin crazy in the kitchen
We danced and screamed and held each other tight
We laughed until we cried

3 months after my loss and it still hurts like hell.  And I wish that it wasn't what I'm thinking of as I close out the year.  And I wish I wasn't dreading going to this party and finding out who's pregnant now or seeing all the babies.  And more than anything I wish I was picking out stuff and laying my hand lovingly on my belly and planning for my May baby.

Oh please God let 2008 be better.

Score one for me!

I finally heard from the doctor's office at 10:30 (they called in on another line after I had been sitting on hold with their office for about 2 minutes). My doctor had conferred with two other doctor's in the practice and they decided that although my numbers are not doing exactly what they would like, they're low enough. And they're moving in the downward direction. I did not have to have more methotrexate today. Yay!!!!

As soon as they told me this, I asked if they would have the doctor call in something for my nerves. Before I got serious with my TTC journey, I was on medication for anxiety. Up until this part of my journey, I have managed to keep my anxiety at bay. Not now. The roller coaster that I have been on is too much.

I have found myself on the verge of a pretty nasty cliff the past week. At the bottom of this cliff is a lot of nasty emotions. Emotions that I have managed to move past. Emotions that are not even real...they're reactions to unrealistic views that I had years ago. I do not want to go off this cliff and I will not go off this cliff.

So hopefully this roller coaster is coming to an end. Hopefully my numbers will continue to drop at a decent rate. Hopefully a few xa.nax are all I need to keep me sane until I manage to sort through all of this in my mind.

And there's always tomorrow! And tomorrow can always be something better than today!!!

update

4 days after the methotrexate hCG is 36
7 days after the methotrexate hCG is 32
9 days after the methotrexate hCG is 29

This is only a 9% drop. The doc says it's not good enough. They waited until 5:15 to call me and tell me this (if anyone can tell me the point of putting a "stat" on my blood order, I'd appreciate it). Tomorrow morning they'll call me to let me know what time to come in for more shots. I'll have to go by the pharmacy and pick up the vials of stuff, first. Then it will be back to work because they're pissed about all the time I've missed because I can't even do an ectopic pregnancy correctly.

Tonight's dinner consisted of a caramel and chocolate syrup sundae, cookies, and pretzels (I did not mix the sugar with the salt, at least).

Factoids and Updates

8 Things about me

1. I crochet. I have a seriously limited attention span, therefore I only crochet small projects; mostly baby booties. Let me tell you how many people ask you "Are you pregnant?" when they see you making a baby bootie. Since when do you have to be knocked up to crochet baby items?!?!


2. I am addicted to TV. I DVR about 10 - 12 shows per week.


3. I have a twin brother. We are clo.mid babies.


4. It seems that fertility issues runs in the family. My grandmother had to have "painful treatments" to conceive my Mom. My Mom had 3 rounds of clo.mid before conceiving me and my brother. My sister tried for two years before conceiving my nephew.


5. I am a natural red-head, but I was born blonde. I had brown hair in middle school. I had red hair in high school. All of these were natural at the time.


6. I am just a TMI person. IRL and online, I give TMI. To friends, family, coworkers, perfect strangers. I guess it’s due, in part, to my lack of modesty. It’s also due, I like to think, in part to my way of thinking. I think of my life in a clinical manner. I break it down scientifically and psychologically. I try to learn from my experiences that way. Either way it goes, beware what you ask because I WILL be honest. Ha!


7. I once lived with a man that I met online. I moved in with him two weeks after I met him IRL. I had known him a maximum of two months. (Not knocking anyone else who has done this, it was fun while it lasted.) He was 17 years my senior.


8. I love glass spice bottles. I can’t help but collect them, even though I don’t use them. I have at least a dozen of them in my pantry (they just sit there...empty, but so darn cute).


9. I like younger men. 3 out of 4 of my "serious" relationships in my life were with younger men. My husband is about 3 years younger than me. (He looks much younger than that.)

That last one was thrown in just in case anyone already knew one of these things, already.

***UPDATE***

So really, I can't even do a normal ectopic. First of all, they never saw anything anywhere in my body resembling a pregnancy. Not in the tubes, not in the uterus, not anywhere! Then my numbers never got that high. Now the damn things won't drop enough!!! My hCG on day 4 (after the shots) was 36. It dropped to 32 by day 7. That's right about 11%. Not enough. It has to drop at least 15% between day 4 and day 7. Never mind the fact that it dropped 61% between the day of the shots and day 4...it's the day 4-7 drop that matters.

So I go today to have another quant hCG to make sure it's dropped enough from the 32. The doc is worried that the number will increase or "hover". If so, I'm back in the office today for more shots. The good side to this is that the shots don't hurt. The bad side is I'll probably start bleeding heavier. Nooooo!!!

And the answer to the s.e.x/no s.e.x questions is....can you guess? If you guessed no lovin' for Mr. W then you got it right. My doc said that I have to wait until my hCG is back in the "negative" range to have inter.course. It didn't help me plead my case when I told my doc that I had been having some "twinges" in the area of my right ovary. Of course she said we can do "other things". Yeah. Sure. I can do for him...but what's to be done for poor bleeding me? According to my doctor (I swear she said this), "Buy a vi.brator and use it on the outside only". Hahahahahahaha!!!!!!

I'll let you know more as the drama unfolds today.

Oh...and I'm tagging Erin & Katie for 8 random facts! :-)

Needles, and scans, and biopsies, Oh My!

CD1 (previously known as 24dpo) my HCG was 21.


CD6 HCG was 90...that's about a 48 hour doubling time. Not so good since CD1 was the day I miscarried.


CD8 HCG was 114. It's not doubling, but it was still increasing. And for those of you following along at home my bleeding stopped about CD4 or 5.


CD10 HCG was 113.


CD11 and now I'm cramping and spotting.



I've got an endometrial biopsy schedule for this afternoon. I wish, at this point, they do a D&C and an ultrasound and let it be done. They just don't know what's going on. Ugh!!!



I received my common-thread bracelet! Yay! It's on and I'm wearing it with pride (and aprehension). I'll do a whole post on this one later, though. Today if I feel up to it.



And I realized that I'm angry with God. I guess there's no one else to be angry with, so why not. And it didn't help that at my church, this weekend, my pastor talked in tongues. Many of you may have opinions on this...I'm not sure what mine is. I'm a pretty big sceptic to begin with, throw in my anger at the man upstairs...you see where this is leading, I'm sure.



Anyway, I've got a ton of thoughts brewing my demented little mind right now. There is definitely more to come on all of these topics!!!

It's not fair

I'm sorry for my lack of originality, but I'm going to copy and paste the email that I sent to a friend.

"My betas are not going as planned. 24 dpo (cd1) HCG-21...29 dpo HCG-90. It's going the wrong way. And it's too low to be good. I had to have more blood today for another quant. I have to go to the hospital Sunday and Tuesday for repeats. Then I have to have an ultrasound on Wednesday. The doc is worried that it's ectopic. Why can't it just be over. I don't get a baby...so it should be over, now. It's just not fair. i just don't know what to do. i feel so...lost, out of control, sad, angry"

For those of you who haven't read my past posts, these numbers follow my miscarriage last Friday at 5 weeks 4 days. This is becoming a hellacious roller coaster. And I want off.

And if it's ectopic...my biggest fear is damaging a tube.

I think my couch and I will become even closer this weekend than I previously believed possible.

Realizations (cry for help)

Over the past few hours I've come to realize that I'm not dealing with this nearly as well as I thought. And boy does that mess with my head. I didn't realize I still possessed this ability to ignore my feelings. For some reason, I thought I had worked through this crappy coping method some years ago in therapy. Guess I was wrong!

So here's what tipped me off that I'm really just pushing this down, and not coping 1) IBS - oh yeah buddy! I got some seriously pissed off intestines right about now! I can't blame this on the food, anymore. b) I'm on the verge of tears 24-7. Yeah, I've actually been able to deny that this is related to my sadness, but today I had to admit that this is NOT related to any hormones lingering in my system ‡) I keep making really tasteless jokes at my expense and I have diarrhea of the mouth. I cannot shut up. And I have nothing to say...just blah blah blah blah to anyone who stands still too long. ¶ ) The thought of having sex repulses me. The thought of getting pregnant terrifies me. I feel as if my body has betrayed me (I'm broken) and why would my husband want to be intimate when my body kills babies. (I realize how illogical that statement is, but since I accidentally blurted it out to someone the other night, it permeates my every thought). ¼) I cannot focus for long. I have no desire to do my work or much of anything else if it involves removing my ass from my couch.

So right now I need some help. And not of the therapist variety. I really don't feel that I want to actually talk to anyone about this. I just want to move on. Ugh! So, if you have any advice, any articles/blogs/online reading you would suggest, anything that helped you...I'm open!

Again, thank you all so much for everything! I really do mean everything I've posted before this and really am as thankful for everything in my life that I do have. I'm just so mixed up right now. This sucks.

***CLARIFICATION***
When I say I don't want to "talk" I mean it literally. I have no desire to actually speak about this. I am tired of the topic escaping my lips. Blogging seems to be ok with my warped mind right now, but that's it. It irritates me that I'm even still having to deal with this. For some reason I expect others to grieve about something like this, but I feel like I should be ok with it all by now...that it shouldn't be a big deal to me anymore. Which, strangely enough, is not how I feel most people would/should react in my shoes. WTF??

My Mantra?

Today at church the pastor talked about "Giant Slaying". We all have our Goliath that yells and taunts us daily. It's up to us to figure out what our Goliath is and to slay it.

Here were my thoughts during the sermon:

My Giants:
I am incomplete
I am broken
I am infertile

My Feelings:
anxiety
hurt/pain
anger

My Mantra:
I will not accept that I will never have a child. I will accept that it will not be easy for me. I will find peace in God; I will put God in my heart so I will have peace in my soul. God will be with me through this. God will take me through this. Regardless of where the journey leads.

My random thought:
How can I be a woman and a wife without bearing my husband, my man, a child?

My really really random though:
I am like my childhood closet. (now that really did stem from something the pastor said about realizing how are fears are not as big as they seem, i.e. being scared of the boogeyman in the closet as a child and your parents opening the cloest door to reveal nothing more than a dirty pile of socks. if you opened my closet when i was a child you would have been lucky to survive the avalance of crap that would have come out of it.)

I'm not sure where all of this is leading. I'm fighting through depression and confusion and can only hope that this will help me. I promise to post more on this as I manage to sort it out. I just wanted to put it out there, though.

I apologize for the randomness!!!