Comments (14)

By shannon, July 30, 2010 2:46 pm

Two posts in one day – this is a new experience for me, but if I don’t get this out, I’m either going to throw up or throw something (like a brick through a window).

The day after my sister died, I got my period.  With that, all of my dreams of having conceived a child on her birthday were shattered.  It was more pain on top of some of the greatest pain I’ve ever felt.

Nevertheless, just two days later, Brian and I drove home to Maryland so that I could continue with the fertility plan – it’s what Lisa wanted; she wanted to be an aunt almost as much as I want to be a mommy.  I went to the appointment at 7am the day after we arrived home (after driving for 15ish hours).  I moved forward with the cycle, did the awful drugs, had the icky condom cam more than once, and went through two more IUI procedures.

For reasons I’m not going to get into, I didn’t think it worked this month.  But, even when your head knows something, sometimes your heart is still holding out hope.

This morning at 7am, I had the blood draw that would definitively tell me if I’m pregnant.  I got to work and attempted to catch up on some blog reading, but I was super busy.  I did stumble across Elizabeth’s post, which, as you can tell from my comment, invoked certain emotions in me.

Then, just after lunch, I got an email from a coworker announcing that his wife is pregnant with their 2nd child.

Then, not even five minutes later, I got the call that my pregnancy test was negative. Again.

And now, I can’t stop crying.  Seriously, I’ve been crying for over an hour, and it just won’t stop.  I actually had to leave work because I couldn’t hold it in. I don’t begrudge anyone the right to have a child; I really don’t. I just wish that it didn’t have to be happening all around me. ALL. THE. TIME.

More than anything, I want to talk to my sister (and please don’t tell me that I can talk to her anytime – I want to HEAR her voice).  I want to tell my best friend how much it hurts, and I want her to tell me that it’s ok to feel robbed.  That my pain doesn’t diminish anyone else’s happiness.  But, I have no sister; my best friend is gone.

They say God never gives us more than we can handle.  Well, I don’t know who “they” are, but they’re full of shit.  Because I can’t handle all of this.  I need a break.  A break from diabetes, from infertility, from everything.

Comments (4)

By shannon, June 22, 2010 11:54 am

In all of my ranting and rambling about TTC and pregnancy, I’ve gotten lots of great advice from readers.  Some have been through their own T1 pregnancy experiences, and some have even gone down the fertility treatment path with T1.  There are some whose advice I take as gospel:

Kerri – As most of you know, Kerri (Six Until Me) recently gave birth to her first child (who has to be one of the cutest kids I’ve ever seen).  She wrote about EVERYTHING while she was pregnant, and I’ve learned tons from reading her blog.  I love that she wasn’t afraid to tell the real, whole, nasty truth when it came to the not-so-fun-and-wonderful aspects of a T1 pregnancy.  But she also had some many touching, heartwarming posts that I often cried while reading.  I’ve been a little light on the comments lately, but trust me, I’ve been reading every word.

Lyrecha – From the start, Cheryl has given me some awesome advice.  She’s commented on a few of my blogs, and she’s also taken the time to email me with words of encouragement and helpful information.  I follow her blog with gusto, and I’ve just ordered her new book, Balancing Pregnancy With Pre-Existing Diabetes: Healthy Mom, Healthy Baby.  Oh, and there’s the small fact that she’s pregnant! 

Since I could possibly (hopefully)  be pregnant myself (please God, let me be knocked up!), I’m super excited to read Cheryl’s book and apply that knowledge to my life.  But, even if I’m not pregnant, this book will be an excellent way to get in the best shape possible before I do conceive. 

When my time finally comes, both of these amazing ladies will be who I look to for advice.

Comments (10)

By shannon, June 16, 2010 10:54 am

It’s all really happening.  It’s been three long years, countless pregnancy tests (all negative), and more ups and downs than I care to remember.

You guys know all about our struggle with infertility.  Since that first appointment at the fertility practice (I can’t believe that was only three months ago!), I’ve had blood tests and ultrasounds (condom cam!) and surgery and awful procedures (HSG, anyone?).  I’ve taken drugs (Clomid, Follistim, and tonight, Ovidrel) that have made me hot and cold at the same time.  I’ve worked my ass off to get my A1c down to an acceptable pre-pregnancy number. 

Now, all of the hard work and anticipation is over.  Now, it’s up to my body and some (hopefully) strong swimmers.  Because tomorrow and Friday, I get inseminated.  Yeah, you know how sexy that sounds, right?  But, the fact is that with our fertility issues, an Intra Uterine Insemination (IUI) is really our only option.  We could continue to try “the old fashioned way” for years, but it wouldn’t work.

This morning, I had my blood drawn and an ultrasound to check the status of my superovulation (basically, forcing my body to mature and release more than one egg).  I don’t have the bloodwork results yet, but the ultrasound showed what appeared to be four mature follicles.  This is exactly the sort of result we were hoping for.

So, tomorrow morning at 9:30ish, I will have my first of two IUIs.  I have no idea what to expect (do I get a martini before and a cigarette after?), but I’m very excited.  Brian and I will make the drive from our home to Rockville (where the BIG fertility office is). 

On Friday, we’ll repeat the process.  I LOVE that they do two IUIs instead of the usual one.  It’s a pain in the ass to drive all the way to Rockville two days in a row, but I’ll do it without complaint.

What makes this timing even more special is the fact that Friday is my sister’s birthday.  NOTHING would make me happier than to conceive her niece or nephew on her birthday.  When I spoke with her this morning, although “high” on morphine, she was very excited and hopeful. 

Wish me luck, guys.  The odds aren’t great (roughly 20% conceive on the first try), but I’m optimistic.  I really feel like it’s our turn.

Comments (11)

By shannon, April 19, 2010 12:51 pm

I’ve been struggling with finding a blog topic for the past few days.  Since I’ve always said that I write this blog for me, I don’t know why I feel the need to “search” for topics.  I don’t know why I feel the need to write every day, either. 

I’m feeling so many mixed emotions these days that I hardly know which way is up. 

My sister.  How do you accept that your sister is dying?  How do you reconcile hurt feelings and anger when the knowledge that her time is so limited is always weighing on your mind.  Am I allowed to be hurt when she hurts me?  Or do I have to just forget about it?  Am I allowed to feel taken for granted?  Or do I just accept the knowledge that I will never be as important to her as she is to me?  I don’t know the protocol and it’s killing me.

Babies.  When you’re trying to conceive, babies are everywhere.  They are in every conversation, every commercial.  They are discussed at meetings and social events.  You just have to grin and bear it.  Even when people complain about their lack of sleep/time/social life, you just have to shut up and nod accordingly.  Nevermind that you’d give your right arm to experience that lack of sleep/time/social life.  Nevermind the energy/time/money you’ve expended just to have a chance at a baby. 

Diabetes.  I hate you. 

This is, without a doubt, the hardest time of my life.  With the exception of Brian, I feel very alone.  I’m scared, angry, hurt, and sad.  The cracks in my shell are starting to show.

I guess I had a blog post in me after all.

Comments (5)

By shannon, April 15, 2010 12:37 pm

Do you ever feel like you’re on the edge of a cliff, and a swift breeze could just push you right over?  This is how I’ve felt for the past few days.  I’m trying my best to “just keep swimming,” but all it’s going to take is one more thing to push me over.

I’ve written about my sister before, and she’s a common commenter on my posts.  Her latest scans and bloodwork did not yield good news.  Her cancer is growing.  FAST.  I’m angry and scared about what this means, and I fear that I’m going to have to step out of my denial bubble soon.  I like my denial bubble – it’s safe there.  I’m traveling to Florida to see her in a month or so, and I’m hopeful that her new treatment won’t leave her feeling sick, weak, or anything else bad.  I know she doesn’t want that.

You all know what’s going on with the fertility stuff.  I got more blood test results today, which indicate that I need more blood tests.  WTF?  My arms are already bruised from the last two blood draws on Tuesday.  Now, I have to go for more (they’re going to have to take a gallon or so for all of these tests!).  I HATE having my blood drawn – mostly because I have to deal with morons. 

The big D is a big B lately.  Almost every day, I’m going low right after I eat lunch, which causes me to treat and then skyrocket a few hours later (damned Symlin).  Today, I’m not eating until I bottom out.  I know that Apidra is a fast insulin, but I seem to have a much longer response time in the morning.  Not to mention my I:C ratio and basals in the morning are so much higher than the rest of the day.  I need an advanced math degree just to figure all of this nonsense out.  I really need a diabetes vacation.

So, that’s why I’ve been scarce lately.  My subconscious is desperately working on sorting all of this out, hence some very weird dreams lately, which have left me completely exhausted when I wake up.

On a happier note, I believe that by now, little BSparl has made her way into the world.  I want to offer Kerri and Chris my most heartfelt congratulations.  I’m very happy for you all.

Comments (13)

By shannon, April 13, 2010 9:25 am

Any guys who don’t want to read about “women’s issues” should probably skip today’s blog post.

After almost three months of waiting, I finally started my period on Sunday.  While I was happy that I could finally get the ball rolling on the fertility evaluations, I was not prepared for the general suckiness that is the first period in three months.  Cramps, headache, bloating … you name it, I’ve got it.

But, the good news is that I was able to move forward on the fertility front.  This morning, I went for what I thought was going to be a simple blood draw to check my hormone levels.  I was wrong.

Sure, I got the blood draw (two, actually, because they messed up the first time), but I also got to experience my very first trans-vaginal ultrasound.  Very interesting.

By the end of the appointment, I was in tears.  Not because I was sad, though.  I was thrilled to hear the word “normal.”  I have good, working ovaries, and my uterus looks “great.” 

One week from today, I get to experience the joy that is the HSG.  I’m pretty nervous for this one, so I’ll be taking a preventive Xanax and Ibuprofen. 

In the meantime, we wait for the results of the blood work.  I should hear something later today.

Developing …

*****UPDATE*****

Got the results of my bloodwork, and it’s not great:

E2 = 84.3

FSH = 11.4

LH = 5.89

I’m still waiting for the other test results (TSH, etc.), which have to be processed by Quest instead of the doc’s office.

Comments (6)

By shannon, April 7, 2010 3:58 pm

Thanks to the wonderful advice from Katie, I decided to join an online community for diabetics who are also trying to conceive (TTC). 

Straight off, I was warmly welcomed.  It felt great to be communicating with other women who share my struggles, pain, and hope.  While our situations are very different – some are T1s, some are T2s; some have female fertility issues, others are struggling with male factor infertility – our common goal of having a healthy baby unites us.

Some of these incredibly strong women have had multiple miscarriages, and my heart breaks for them.  But, through it all, they’re determined to continue on, and I know that their efforts will be rewarded in the end.

From the initial site, I was directed to a sub-site for diabetic women who have been TTC for a long time (me!).  I have to say that the ladies over there are AMAZING!  I posted my story and got incredible feedback.  I already feel better and significantly more optimistic about our situation, thanks to this community.

I’ve been reading all of the posts and getting to know each of the hopeful moms-to-be.  I feel honored that they’ve accepted me into their fold, and I wish them all success in their baby-making endeavors!

Comments (14)

By shannon, March 22, 2010 1:16 pm

You all know what’s been going on in our quest to have a child.  Today, I want to give up.  Seriously, I do.

I was told, when I met with the fertility doctor, to have a consultation with a high-risk OB.  I called my regular OB/GYN (Dr. H.) to see who she worked with.  After a lot of run-around, I found the high-risk practice at the same hospital as Dr. H.  Today, I had my consultation.

When I arrived at the office, the front desk person was rude.  Not just a little unfriendly – she was rude.  Not a good start – it immediately put me on edge.  But, I filled out the paperwork, as required.  The receptionist became even ruder (if that’s possible) when she asked me for Brian’s SSN.  I asked her why she needed it (I’m not giving out any SSNs unless there is a damn good reason).  She said that she wanted it for our insurance information.  I explained that the Member ID number is sufficient (truthfully, I probably wouldn’t have been such a hard ass about it if she’s just asked nicely).  Then, she told me that my copay was $30, payable by cash or check only.  This was not something anyone told me, and I only had credit cards (I don’t carry a checkbook around).  When I said that I only had plastic and that I wasn’t aware of the policy, she didn’t say anything.  NOTHING.  She didn’t even look at me.  Oookay.  I took a seat and waited for my turn.

After a while,  I was called to the back where I had the usual vitals done (BP, weight, urine, etc.).  Then, I was led to a small conference room where the nurse asked me the same questions that I’d just answered on the new patient paperwork (medical conditions, meds, allergies, etc.).  I dutifully answered her questions, and when she’d gotten it all, she told me the doctor would be right in.

A few moments later, the nurse returned and asked me who referred me.  When I explained that I wasn’t referred (I’m not pregnant, yet), I was told to get the consult by the fertility group, she said that I should have had records sent over before the appointment.  Getting more upset, I explained that (just as with the copay) no one had told me that I needed to have my records sent over.  She said that the doctor needs the records before she could talk with me.  WTF?  If I’d known that they needed these records for a consult, I would have made sure they had them.  But, no one told me.

The nurse left the room, but I wasn’t alone for long.  The office manager (I think) came into the room next.  She had a release form, which she needed me to fill out.  When I asked her who she was sending it to (one of the fields in the form), she asked me who has my records.  I explained that I have several doctors and, depending on what she needs, the information would come from different sources.  She said that she needs my “medical records.”  That’s it; no further clarification.  She was being pretty rude, too.  My guess was that the receptionist made some sort of comment about me, which led to a judgment on her part. 

That’s when I lost it.  Completely.  I asked her to stop speaking to me as if I were a four-year-old.  I told her that if one, single person had told me that I needed to have medical records sent over, I would have done so.  I told her that I was upset about the fact that without those records, the doctor felt it was pointless to meet with me.  Here I was, a living, breathing person with the ability to recall facts like my last A1c, BP readings, and other pertinent information.  But, without medical records, there was no point? 

Then I started to cry. 

If there is one thing I wish I could change about myself (well, there are tons, but this is a biggie), it would be my tendency to cry when I get angry.  I don’t really cry when I’m sad, but piss me off, and I become a blubbering fool.  This, of course, pisses me off even more because the last thing I want is any kind of sympathy from the person who made me angry in the first place. 

But, before I knew it, the doctor decided to grace me with her presence.  She came into the room, clipboard in hand, and asked me questions.  And miracle of miracles, I was able to give her the information she needed.  But, that’s where the good times ended.

As she went over each of my conditions, diabetes being the biggest obstacle, I began to feel less and less like a potential pregnant woman.  I felt like a complete and utter failure.  Straight off, she didn’t believe that I was a Type 1.  She asked if I had ever been tested for antibodies (yes) and was it positive or negative (positive, duh?).  She told me that what my endo told me about pregnancy BGs isn’t good enough.  She would want my fasting BGs between 60 and 80mg/dl, one hour post-prandials at less than 140mg/dl, and two-hour post prandial at less than 130mg/dl.  This seemed excessive to me and not at all what I’d learned from other pregnant T1s in the DOC.  There’s no way I could achieve that without having severe lows all the time.  She countered with (speaking as if trying to talk me down from a ledge), “we have pregnant diabetics with A1cs of 5% all the time.”  I wanted to say that maybe with T2s or gestational patients this is achievable, but with a T1, it’s just dangerous.  There was so much I wanted to say.  Instead, I cried.

I think the moment when I decided that I didn’t want to go through any of this anymore was when she told me about all of the potential birth defects and complications that can occur as a result of my diabetes, high BP, and “advanced maternal age.”   Why am I putting myself through this?  With every doctor’s appointment, all I feel is guilt, anger, self-loathing, and despair.  I am not enjoying anything about this process, and if this is what I have to look forward to, I’m not very optimistic.

When I think about Elizabeth’s good news, I’m very motivated to pursue adoption instead of putting myself through this again.

Comments (2)

By shannon, March 11, 2010 11:15 am

As you all know, I decided to try Symlin again.  While its primary purpose is to help reduce those pesky blood sugar spikes I get after meals, the secondary (and perhaps *my* primary) purpose is to help with weight loss.  The unfortunate side effect is nausea. 

Symlin works by replacing the natural Amylin that, in non-Type 1 diabetics, is secreted by the beta cells of the pancreas.  It works by delaying stomach emptying, which helps you digest slower.  It’s also that little voice in your head that tells you when you’re full.  Since I am beta cell challenged, my body doesn’t make Amylin, which is why I often feel hungry even after a satisfying meal (= weight gain).  It’s also why my BG can easily spike to 300+ after I eat, which = more insulin, which = weight gain, which = insulin resistance, which = weight gain, which = well . . . you get the point. 

As it happened, George (a.k.a. Ninjabetic) also decided to start Symlin again.  He and I had very similar beginnings with Symlin, and we were both reluctant to try it again.  So, it’s really nice to be doing this with someone else who knows what it’s like. 

As you know, I started on Tuesday night at just 15mcg (the absolute minimum for a Type 1).  Yesterday morning, I skipped breakfast, so no Symlin.  Truthfully, I was feeling a little nauseated, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the Symlin or just general morning crappiness.  I was super-busy at work, which meant that lunch was upon me pretty quickly.  Knowing that I had a meeting at 1pm, and feeling the desperate need to get a home pregnancy test because my period is still MIA, I quickly ran to the drugstore for the test and Chick-fil-A for a salad. 

Back at the office, I peed on the stick.  Negative, which was no big surprise, considering . . .  Even still, I was disappointed and relieved at the same time.  After all, I’m taking meds that are not pregnancy safe (Lisinopril and now Symlin).  Still, it sucks to see that one lonely line on a pregnancy test time after time. 

Anyway, back at my desk, I dialed up 15mcg of Symlin and ate my lunch.  I programmed a 60-minute square wave bolus on the pod and watched Dex like a hawk.  Sadly, my BG began to spike within 30 minutes, and it went high (like mid-200s high).  Then the nausea hit.  I felt like complete shit.  It was weird because it was more severe than the night before.  As George, Scott, and I were discussing last night on Twitter, it feels like you’ve got food stuck at the very bottom of your throat.  I don’t know how else to explain it.  Whatever.  I wasn’t going to let this nausea screw with the potential benefits of using Symlin.

So, last night before dinner, I decided to up the ante.  I dialed up 30mcg on the pen and bravely took the shot (it stung, too!).  I ate my dinner (about ½ of my typical portion size) and waited for the nausea.

It didn’t come.  As soon as I finished eating, I got up and started cleaning.  Keeping busy really seemed to help.  My BG remained steady and under 150 mg/dl before dropping slightly.  I tested before going to bed and was 145 mg/dl.  Hearing Dr. S.’s voice in my head (he wants me under 100 mg/dl in the morning), I did a small correction bolus and went to sleep.

Sometime around 11pm, I heard a low BG alarm.  I grabbed Dex from my nightstand and saw that I had dipped just below 70 mg/dl.  However, a finger stick showed me at 75 mg/dl, so I didn’t treat and went back to sleep.

At 1:30am, Brian’s stupid on-call phone for work rang.  I woke up instantly.  A quick peek at Dex showed me still hovering in the low 60s.  A finger stick confirmed, so I decided to drink a very small glass of milk.  This was definitely the right thing to do.  I woke up this morning at 99 mg/dl (hey, it’s under 100, right?), and Dex showed a nice flat line all night.  I felt pretty good, although tired because of the phone call. 

I got to work, dialed a 30mcg dose of Symlin for my modest breakfast (45g of carbs).  I programmed a 30-minute square wave bolus this time to prevent any spikes. 

That was an hour and a half ago.  My current BG is 157 mg/dl, but it looks like I’m rising fast.  I’m going to keep trying different ways to get the most out of Symlin.  I am anxious to get up to the 60mcg dose, which has more weight-loss benefits.  But, as it is, I’m eating much less than I was, so that’s good.  I’ve read that some Type 1s are able to tolerate the 120mcg dose, which offers the highest weight loss benefits.  I’m going to shoot for that, but I’m prepared to stick with 60mcg if necessary.

Overall, this experience with Symlin has been significantly more positive than my last attempt.  It’s something I’m determined to stick with, so I’m not going to let a little nausea derail me.  I’m committed to losing this weight, dammit!

Comments (7)

By shannon, March 10, 2010 9:41 am

As I expected, my A1c went up.  I just didn’t expect it to go up *that* much.  For almost two years, my A1c has been below 7%.  It’s a lot of work, but totally worth it.

I admit that I rebelled a bit.  I also got lazy.  I was just so tired of the tight control and limitations.  I went a little nuts.  I have the weight gain and lousy A1c to show for it. 

All other tests were good.  BP was “excellent” according to Dr. S.  He also said that I’d *lost* two pounds since my last appointment.  This just doesn’t seem right, but I wasn’t about to argue.  He gave me a list of group meetings and events (read: support groups) for Type 1s and encourage me to attend.  I don’t know if I will – I admit that it would be nice to meet some other Type 1s in person, though. 

As I mentioned yesterday, I wanted to talk to Dr. S. about Symlin.  After looking at my A1c, Dex graphs, and logbook, his initial feeling was to further increase my basals.  Since I had decided that I was not going to let that happen, I needed to find an alternative.  See, *I* think my basals are too high as it is.  The highs I’m experiencing aren’t the result of too-low basal settings; it’s because I’ve been eating like shit for months and, more often than not, SWAG bolusing.  So, I’m high because I didn’t count carbs correctly.  Sure, I correct, but once I’m high, it’s so hard to get back down. 

Which, once again, led me to the Symlin talk.  I’d tried it once before and gave up after a few days.  I was told that it is not indicated for pregnant women, and since we were actively trying at that point (and blissfully unaware of our fertility issues), I decided that it was best to stop.  To be honest, I was not heartbroken to lose the awful nausea that accompanied it.  But, the thing is, I never really gave it a chance. 

In preparation for my appointment, I did a bunch of research.  I learned that the nausea goes away pretty quickly and that the key is to stick with it.  I learned that some people have lost huge amounts of weight thanks to it.  I learned that most decrease their boluses by at least half.  All of these facts solidified my resolve to give it another shot.

So, just before dinner last night, I dialed up the minimum 15mcg and gave myself the shot.  I ate my meal slowly (I did notice that I got fuller faster) and waited.  I carefully calculated the carbs in what I ate (49 grams total), and programmed a 60-minute extended bolus.  And I waited. 

Sure, I felt a little nauseated, but nothing too extreme (I definitely didn’t feel like I was going to puke or anything).  I wasn’t hungry either, which was nice.  I often feel hungry even after eating a decent meal.  Dex showed almost no movement in my BG for over an hour.  Since I was super exhausted yesterday, I went to bed early. 

At 11:53pm, Dex beeped.  The dreaded low alarm.  I looked at the screen: 68 mg/dl.  Not too bad, but I did a finger stick to confirm:  66 mg/dl.  Since Dex indicated a downward trend, I decided to drink a juice box.  Then, I did something really stupid.  I programmed a temp basal of 50%.  I was spooked; I admit it.  I didn’t want to have a horrible low that would be difficult to treat because of the Symlin (I’d read that this happens).  I wanted to play it safe. 

Just as any sane person would expect, a few hours later, my BG started to climb.  Nothing drastic – I was sitting at 150ish.  Then my usual Dawn Phenomenon kicked in (I have a basal rate that is more than two times greater during the hours of 5am-8am).  A temp basal of 50% was not going to make a dent in that train wreck.  After my shower, I was sitting at 180 mg/dl and climbing. 

Since the pod was due for a change, I swapped it out and canceled that stupid temp basal.  Now, as I write this at 9:16am, I am at 189 mg/dl.  This is despite two decent correction boluses.  I know the crash is coming, and I’m ready for it.  I’m just pissed off at myself for giving in to the fear.  It’s the fear of lows that gives me a 7.5% A1c.  It’s unacceptable.

Ugh, diabetes, I hate you.

**UPDATE**

As I wrote this post, I got a call from the fertility doc’s office.  They wanted to tell me that they’d received a copy of my A1c (which the nurse described as “elevated”), and that for conception, they want it to be under 6%.  As if I didn’t already feel shitty enough.