June Blog Challenge, Post VIII: SAHM?

Here’s the prompt for Day 8 of the June Blog Challenge over at Waiting for Baby.

If you had a choice- SAHM?

If I had the choice to be a Stay At Home Mom, I’d probably absolutely take the opportunity, especially if it were manageable financially; f we were able to live off of one income for a few years. I’ve never had kids, but I can only imagine how expensive childcare services can become up until elementary school.

Husband and I talked about this the other day, when I was mentioning a super cool blog I read about a stay at home dad, and I was pretty surprised to hear him say he’d be open to being a SAHD if things worked out that way!

I also think, and this is just my opinion here, that when you deal with infertility or struggle to bring your baby to term, the desire to want to be around your baby is greater. If Husband and I were to one day, finally be able to have a baby, there’s NO WAY you’d be able to take him/her out of my sight!!

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Trouble Down Under

I’ve sort of been having a lot of trouble with my lady parts. This is not really new. My lady parts have actually been damaged goods for about two years now, and with the endometriosis and PCOS creeping around, everything from my body chemistry to my sex drive has really suffered.

When Husband and I were finally able to be together, in August 2011, after our long distance relationship from Seattle to Statesboro (a small little shit town about 3 hrs away from Atlanta), we fucked like doped up little horndog bunny rabbits. For a good 3-4 months, we’d rack up around 20 days of sex (each month), leaving 7 days to my period and the remaining days for soreness or something. How do I know this? I chart it. I used to make so much fun of my Seattle roommate for charting her period and sexual activity, but now I am so glad I ended up following suit…

Anyways, I started to notice that our sex days were starting to decrease; slightly at first, and then just suddenly. By February 2012, we were averaging between 2-5 days a month of sexual activity. At first, we contributed it to the stresses of him being a college student, and me working full time. Our schedules were very opposite. Between April-August, I started to notice how painful sex had become for me. No matter what the position, no matter how long the foreplay, sex was becoming severely painful. Like, having sex with a double-edged blade, sort of painful. Not only was the intercourse painful, but so were the following 5-6 days. My panties would feel like cardboard rubbing up against my skin, and my girly pieces were constantly swollen and red. I didn’t know what was happening to my body.

By the end of December 2012, I had had a surgery for Endometriosis, I had been diagnosed with PCOS, and was having a surgery to remove a lesion and pre-cancerous cells from my cervix. My doctor was also sure that this triad was the culprit for my painful sex, and assured me that this would no longer be an issue for us, and let’s face it, this problem was becoming an issue in my marriage.

Fast forward to May 2013, painful sex is still a theme in my life. I’ve invested countless hours on Google and WebMD, and have diagnosed myself with every possible infection, disease, disorder, and malfunction I can find. I’ve been seeing an OB/GYN in Lithonia who specializes in “everything woman” and who treats her patients with holistic medicines and treatments. Today was my follow up appointment to receive the results of the blood tests she had ordered from a previous appointment.

Most of my vitals were pretty normal. When it came to my hormone results, however, she was pretty shocked to see how high my estrogen levels actually were. I sort of anticipated this, as that’s what PCOS is all about. She explained to me in great detail what PCOS is and what it’s doing to my body. She explained in great detail what my results meant and for the first time since my diagnosis, I felt like I was finally getting some insight into the disease.
I ended up leaving with $93 dollars worth of prescriptions, and an interesting treatment plan. I honestly am not even sure what it is, but I’m desperate enough to try just about anything.

Here’s what she prescribed:

1. Argentyn 23: a homeopathic SILVER first aid gel. Not silver as in color. Silver as in, that’s the active ingredient. She says that silver is naturally antibacterial and that I should apply it on the areas that are usually sore and inflamed after sex, just in case the pain is coming from some sort of bacterial infection that didn’t show up on my results.
2. CDG EstroDIM: She says that this should help to “block” the estrogen production in my body, and “eat up” some of the excess. Excess estrogen is was is causing the greasy hair, the acne, the weight gain, and the annoying facial hair issues I’ve been having courtesy of PCOS AND is what causes the endometriosis to grow and spread.
3. Liquid Silver: Liquid silver, again not in color. She actually gave me a huge jug full of this liquid and said that the consumption of this liquid was help to eliminate the bad bacteria all throughout my body because I’ve been having some digestive trouble as well. The way she described it sounded like a pretty intense detox, but said that it might be one of the best things for me to help my immune system out.
4. Taylor MD Mineral Care Dietary Supplements: She says, “Oh I forgot to mention, you’ll probably have a really bad reaction to the silver. When your body is overwhelmed with dead bad bacteria, it takes a while to flush it all out, so you’ll probably feel a lot like shit.” This concoction of intense vitamins and minerals is supposed to help counteract the really shitty reaction that I am not looking forward to.
5. Ortho Probiotic Powder: Because we’ll be doing so much killing of the bacteria in my body, this should help me help my body restore the army of good bacteria, which should be present naturally. This is something she recommends I keep a part of my bodily upkeep.

I was the last patient to leave the office, with 5 medications in tote, and I left with my emotions pretty scrambled. One thing I did appreciate about my doctor was the fact that she supported every single one of my concerns. My goal is not exactly to get pregnant tomorrow (thanks to waiting the Peace Corps). I am not looking start fertility drugs next week either. What I do want though, is to get my body ready to carry a fetus. I want my body to be at a state of normalcy, and I would LOVE nothing more than to get pregnant without drug assistance. I would never want to carry a life in this shitty little body of mine in its current state. Most of all, I want to be able to make love to my husband again without my vagina feel like I dragged it across the driveway.

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The Baby Fever’s Back

Husband and I went to church with my mom for Mother’s Day. It was quite the chaotic affair, as we showed up just before service started. The choir women were arguing about who was the better singer and why said better singer should have the solos. The mother’s were all dressed in white suites adorned with a red carnation, presented to them by the Pastor. Even that good gesture when unnoticed as one of the mother’s decided to gripe about why hers should have been a significant color to represent the death of her mother. Husband and I sat huddled together beside my mother trying our best to avoid any eye contact with any of the drama queens!

The service finally began, much later than it was supposed to, and the choir opened with their horrible covers of the loudest praise and worship songs possible. It wasn’t long before we noticed they were competing in noise level with the church upstairs. I think the drama before service threw everyone out of whack, because I couldn’t even begin to explain the sermon. I just didn’t get it.

Luckily for me, there was the most adorable baby seated right in front of me to occupy all of my attention. She couldn’t have been more than six weeks old, with a head full of hair, wearing the cutest white frilly dress. She rested in her mother’s arms just chewing away on her little fist. She was so alert: looking all over the place, often making eye contact with me.

It was during those moments, that I felt that pang deep in my heart. I want to have a baby so badly. Husband kept looking at me with the strangest gaze, like he understood that want because he feels it too, but sort of feels a little bit helpless because he knows that that want is torturing me. And it is. I want to have a baby so badly and I’m so afraid that I won’t ever get the chance to. I feel like I’m living right in the middle of an unwavering war between my two biggest desires. I want to have children, and to do so would require a lot of medical attention, preparation, planning, time, money, and effort. But, I want to serve in the Peace Corps too. I want to serve, in the trenches, abroad. That’s been a dream of mine since I was a little girl.

I’m so afraid of not making the right choice. So afraid that this situation is a “you can’t have your cake, and eat it too,” sort of situation; that I won’t be able to have both.

Husband and I want to lead a life of service, we just weren’t built for your average 9-5 jobs; we weren’t built for unfulfilling jobs and a monotone lifestyle. Sure we could start our fertility treatment journey after our two years of service in the Peace Corps, but what if we wanted to stay longer than two years? What if the Peace Corps lead us to something else that would require more time abroad in the trenches? Or what if we decide to just start a family now, and later on down the line, we resent our lives, or god forbid resent our children, for turning us into soccer parents and keeping us from things like the Peace Corps. It’s too much to handle.

A million scenarios, a million emotions, a million fears and concerns are racing through my mind as I’m looking at this little girl. And this happens all of the time, with each baby and each belly I see. As if it’s a silent reminder of a choice that needs making, that’s just lingering in the universe…

When a Man Loves a Woman

I was so mad at Husband yesterday. I went on and on for an hour about how much more love I needed him to show me, and how much more I needed him to do. A lot of what I felt and said may have been valid in my own right, but since that conversation I’ve felt terrible. I have never known a man to love a woman, as much as my husband loves me, nor have I ever loved any single person as much as I love him. Sometimes, I don’t realize how much stress he really endures. I also don’t think I understand that despite how calm he acts on the outside, that it doesn’t mean he’s not completely overwhelmed on the inside…

…And I’ve given my husband many reasons to be incredibly overwhelmed with stress, fear, and worry. More than I may realize, and I’m just now suddenly taking notice. My husband is my backbone; he’s our pillar. He’s got to be, and I guess I’ve gotten so caught up in my own stress and my own lack of coping with it all, that I’ve forgotten that he too is a human being.

His wife is falling apart and still hasn’t turned up pregnant, he works with some of the most incompetent people I have ever heard of, our parents collectively are becoming too much to handle, and we’re still in between phases with the Peace Corps and grad school We’re basically in the middle of nowhere and he’s trying to make a run for it, but I can’t keep up.

I only know what it’s like, for me, to deal with news of infertility, trying to get back into the swing of things, trying to find ONE solid day where pain or sickness hasn’t consumed my every hour. I only know what it’s like for me, personally, to battle the fear, day in and day out, of never being able to have children, or being so completely overwhelmed with confusion and concern about what’s going to happen for us next, or feeling so completely powerless to my body and what’s going on with it. I don’t know what it’s like for him…

… I never even thought about it.

I never really once considered what HE may be feeling, seeing his wife sick and in pain everyday. I never really once considered the worry and concern that HE may have about our fertility troubles. I never really once considered how overwhelmed HE might be with the not-knowings of my medical wellbeing on top of all that other stuff he gets from every other direction.

But, according to my bitching yesterday, he still isn’t showing me enough.

When in actuality, he does.

He’s been there for every surgery, he’s been there for every stomachache, every pain and cramp, every prescription and every treatment. With every spell of nausea or discomfort, his world stops. He settles my soul after every conversation about the “what-ifs.” He is consistently THERE whenever I need him to be. He’s THERE even when I don’t need him to be. He is firm in his reassurance that no matter what happens, he’ll always be by my side, that he loves me more and more every day, and the happenings of my body don’t determine my degree of womanhood.

That man loves me more than he can express, and more than I can probably ever fathom. I am lucky. Lucky to have found the man that was specifically designed for me, and me alone…

…So yea, he could hug me more, or kiss me more, he could help me out a little more around the house, but my knowing how much he truly loves me will never falter.

I love you Husband, and you love me back, perfectly.

Soul Mates

Soul Mates

You Can’t Take a Baby to the Peace Corps Jenn!!!

With our Peace Corps interviews just 10 days away… I should be spending this time going over questions with Husband, and tweaking our answers to make sure we sound intelligent by limiting the “uhm’s” in case a question catches us off guard. I don’t want us to be ill prepared, but let’s face it, I’ve wanted to join the Peace Corps since HIGH SCHOOL, and Husband’s only recently learned of the Peace Corps, thanks to yours truly.

We should be spending this time shooting off any range of questions we can think of at each other and brushing up on our international affairs; the “goings-on’s” of the world… yet and still, with our Peace Corps interviews just 10 days away, there is only one thing on my mind….

…I want to have a baby…

Yea, talk about a wrench in the plans, huh!

I am not sure if it’s the hormonal surge because of my cycle this week, or if it’s because of the baby fever I cannot seem to shake. Whatever it is, the want, the desire, is so strong and so real, it’s almost annoying.

The Peace Corps is a two-year commitment, and for a normal woman, that’s not a big deal. For me, for someone with Endo & PCOS, it’s a very long, very big gamble.
What also sucks, is that most days, I can’t decide which want outweighs the other. The pros/cons are equal. Of course on a super emotional day, babies win. But on those days where I’m fed up with my parents or America, for that matter, Peace Corps takes the cake.

Husband is so lovingly unhelpful. “Whatever you want to do babe, I’m right with you.” “I want a baby too, but I would also love to do the Peace Corps, it’s so noble.” “I don’t know babe, it’s your decision.”

Thanks.

One of my sorority sisters is having a baby and although I am OVERJOYED for her, I’m a little jealous. She’s shopping for baby furniture and posting them on Instagram, and every time I run across a photo, it’s like a jab in the heart. I’m not saying she’s purposely doing this to me, I’ve never even shared my infertility troubles with her, but I want a baby! Well, maybe even more than wanting a baby, in the flesh, right now… I want TO BE ABLE to have a baby. Whenever that time comes, I want to be able to give my husband a child.

Perhaps that’s why this upcoming interview is freaking me out a bit. I am just worried that two years after service, my body isn’t going to cooperate. Hell, it isn’t cooperating now.

Then again, I’ve been reading and following so many Peace Corps blogs and with each post, I get more excited to go! I am just so excited to be interviewing with the man of my dreams. Can you imagine it? Living out one of my childhood “Save The World” dreams with my main man, Husband?! I can’t wait. Living in a mud hut, shitting in a hole, teaching students, being immersed in culture and language… what a magnificently, life-changing opportunity.

Yea, see. I want each one just as bad as the other.

How would you choose?

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