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By shannon, February 16, 2010 3:16 pm

I’ve been a very bad blogger (wow, that sounds like the beginning of a porn movie or something!).  Thing is, I’m in a funk.  I know that a large part of it is because of the whole infertility thing.  Especially with people having babies all around me (BTW, the number of pregnancies keeps growing – I’m up to 11 friends now).  Sometimes, it gets a little overwhelming. 

Then there’s all this freaking snow!  I know that by the time August rolls around, I’ll be begging for snow (I do NOT like the heat), but this is just ridiculous.  There are snow banks so high and so large that you can’t see around them.  Everyday, when I leave my office, I feel like I’m playing Russian Roulette with the oncoming traffic. 

So, what I can’t figure out is this:

1.  Is all of this ickiness is making me feel like shit?

or

2.  Is it because I feel like shit that everything is so icky?

I know I sound like the poster child for Zoloft, and believe me, it has a place of honor next to my insulin.  I’ve struggled with depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember.  I know what this is, but I can’t just “shake it off.”  There are a lot of really shitty things going on in my life right now.

Now, with the infertility stuff weighing so heavily on my mind, I’m finding it very difficult to fake enthusiasm.  Yes, I’m happy for everyone out there who is currently having or has just given birth to a child.  But, please understand how painful it is for me right now.  I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but I don’t want to see your new baby right now.  I don’t want to come over and talk about/hold/gush over him or her. I don’t want to see how cute your nursery is or look at your ultrasound pictures.  I’m very happy for you, and I wouldn’t wish this fate on anyone, but I just can’t pretend right now.  I just can’t.

And to the asshole, who I overheard say: “infertility is the earth’s way of solving global warming,” I’d like to say that I hope you die a slow and painful death.

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By shannon, January 28, 2010 9:00 am

On October 27, 2007, I walked down the aisle in my beautiful wedding gown, with all of our closest family and friends present.  Brian and I exchanged wedding vows, danced our first dance, and cut our delicious wedding cake.  What almost no one knew was that we were already married.

When I decided to freelance, my insurance coverage went out the window.  My diabetes, considered a pre-existing condition, excluded me from private insurance.  I considered going without insurance for a while, but although I’d managed to stockpile about three months of pump supplies, I knew that when they ran out, I was on my own.  Brian proposed in January, and with our wedding plans well underway, we decided to legally marry beforehand so that I could get on his work-sponsored insurance plan.

So, we requested our marriage license, and on a sunny Friday in June, I became his legal wife.  There was no wedding gown or bouquet, no exchange of rings, and no champagne toast.  There were no witnesses other than the officiant who performed the ceremony.  It was just Brian and me, and it was perfect.

What I realized that day was that I really couldn’t have cared less about a wedding.  What mattered to me was that I was marrying the man of my dreams. It was an emotional and scary moment when we exchanged vows.  It meant forever.  It still does, and it always will.

The best part of our secret marriage was that our *wedding* day was so much more fun because we’d already done the scary part.  It was exciting having a secret that few people knew about (including some in our wedding party).  I don’t think I’d have changed a thing.

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By shannon, January 12, 2010 1:20 pm

Totally not related, but a really cute shot of Hoosier.

On Saturday, I got my period.  Again.  Deep down, I knew that I wasn’t pregnant, but I still secretly hoped that I was.  It was probably for the best because I wasn’t a good diabetic during those two weeks.  I had far too many highs (thanks to holiday eating), I took Advil, and I drank coffee.  I totally knew I wasn’t pregnant.

But, after reading Kerri’s blog yesterday, I wondered (not for the first time) if I am really meant to carry a child.  Maybe I’m not getting pregnant because I shouldn’t have a baby.  When I look at Kerri and read about her struggles, it scares the crap out of me.  I’m terrified that I would be doing more harm than good by having a baby.  I’m not as disciplined as I need to be.  I seem to want to take the “I’ll buckle down when it actually happens” kind of attitude.  But, will I?  Really?  I like to think that I will, but I have so much self-doubt at this point that I just can’t be sure.

Does everyone have these kinds of feelings?  Is it normal?  Is it just a diabetic thing?  Seriously, if you’re reading this and you can identify with it, please comment.

The good thing is that I couldn’t be more confident about being a parent.  Brian and I are SO on the same page when it comes to parenting styles.  We joke about how our kids are probably going to hate us, but we don’t want to be our kids’ friends.  We want to be their parents.  We want to teach them to be strong, confident, and independent.  They will learn the value of a dollar and do chores to earn it.  We will encourage their hopes and dreams, but also keep them grounded enough to appreciate the little things in life.  

The bottom line is this:  we both WANT children so badly that the absence of a child is physically painful.  With nearly everyone around us pregnant, we can’t escape the longing.  If the adoption process wasn’t such a terrifying prospect, I think we probably would have already started pursuing it.  We both want a child that is biologically ours, but we’d love an adopted child just as much.  

So, as I struggle through another month of uncertainty and doubt (and guilt), I try to remember the good things.  I’m free; and I’ve got a good job (not something everyone has today), a beautiful home, a fantastic new (to me) car, and the most wonderful husband in the world.  I’m truly lucky, and I love the life I’ve built.  I’m just missing that one, final piece to my puzzle.

On the bright side, this means that when I fly to Florida this Friday, I can (and will) take as much Xanax as I need.

Comments (4)

By shannon, December 9, 2009 10:17 am

I had a cup of coffee this morning.  I was just so tired, and it smelled so good, and I have no willpower.  Yes, I suck.  I know it.

I’m drinking tea again and hoping to get back on track.

Comments (6)

By shannon, October 31, 2009 7:49 pm

Last Tuesday, I made the oh-so-fun trip to downtown Baltimore for my appointment with Dr. S.  This was the first time I’d seen him in his native environment; I’d always had my appointments at a satellite office.

When I finally found his office (in a large Baltimore hospital), I signed in and waited.  And waited.  It seemed like I was waiting forever, but it was probably just twenty minutes or so.  I am very impatient.  At last, his office door opened, he peeked his head out, found me, and gestured me inside.

At this point, “normal Shannon” disappears.  The thing is, Dr. S. intimidates me.  Not in a “you’re scary/mean/ultra smart” kind of way.  No, my problem is that he’s just so cute.  CUTE!  So, like any immature girl, I get all tongue-tied around him and say really stupid things.  Or nothing at all.  I forget simple words like “ointment;” thank God for the “low blood sugar” excuse – I pull that one out of the deck frequently.  Then, there’s the blushing.  I’m Irish, and I have very fair, freckled skin.  I blush often, but not in a pretty way.  I turn tomato red.

So, here’s what happened on Tuesday.  Dr. S. went over my labs (good!) and took me back into an exam room for the usual once over.  He did the thyroid feel, heartbeat check, lung-deep-breathing thing (why do they make you hyperventilate?).  With each touch, I’m turning redder.  He even wonders if I’m having some sort of allergic reaction (hives).  Ummm, no, I’m just a silly girl.  But, then comes the foot exam.

I like shoes.  I like pretty shoes, with high heels, and don’t even get me started on boots.  I spend a lot of money on shoes (my recent acquisition of the most amazing pair of Manolo boots is epic!).  I forgot the point of this because I’m thinking about shoes.  Damn!

Anyway, I’m lying back on the exam table when Dr. S. lifts up my foot (clad in the aforementioned Manolo boots).  He attempts to pull my boot off himself (OMG!).  I tell him that they zip up so I’ll have to do it.  He made some innocuous comment about my propensity for “nice shoes,” and the blushing starts anew.  So, I finally get the boot off, as well as my trouser sock (sort of fish-netty), and we both look at my other foot.

“Do you need me to take both off?”  I ask.

“Um, yeah.  Don’t I always?”  He responds.

“You’re so high maintenance!”  I respond.  I have no idea where that came from, but (thankfully) he laughed.

So, with my boots off, he checks the pulse on my feet (very good), and does the sensation test (also very good).  He declares my feet to be in excellent condition, but comments on the indentation that the seam of my trouser sock is causing in my toes (obviously caused by my pointy-toed boots).  He’s a little concerned, and tells me that it could be a problem.

“If you tell me that I have to wear ugly shoes, *we’re* gonna have a problem.”

Laughing, he tells me that if I had any sort of neuropathy, he’d have to pull the plug on my shoe obsession.  However, since my feet are fine, I’m spared a sentence of “ugly shoes.”

As if I needed more incentive to stay healthy.  Dr. S. is one smart endo.  Did I mention how cute he is?!?

Comments (0)

By shannon, October 9, 2009 6:11 pm

I love Pottery Barn. I want to take the entire store and just set it up in my house. Even the ugly stuff is nice. What is wrong with me?