Things Can Only Get Better
***Warning--the following includes what some may consider over-sharing***
Hello, 2013. We are not off to a great start, but that is not entirely unexpected. I previously mentioned that I was starting the year with major outpatient surgery. More specifically, I had major hemorrhoid surgery. Thus, the very slow, very painful, recovery I am currently experiencing is a literal pain in the ass. I badly needed this surgery. When I went to the doctor for my surgical evaluation after a visit to the urgent care for two very thrombosed hemorrhoids, he indicated that although their policy is to avoid a hemorrhoidectomy at all costs, that was not an option for me. After the surgery was done, the doctor reiterated to Phil that the surgery had definitely been necessary. So here I sit, er lay, trying to recover. I am having to be patient and sit (lay) still and it's driving me bonkers! Phil is doing an amazing job taking care of Lil' Bit, but I feel like I'm falling down on the job. That's right. I am feeling guilty because I am recovering from surgery! Cognitively, I know that's twisted, but it doesn't stop me from having those feelings. Although I haven't figured out how to stop them, I do have a better understanding of how parents forget self-care. Thus, one of the things I am trying to do while I recover is make sure I am taking care of myself. After all, had I taken better care of myself earlier in life, I likely would not have needed the surgery. So, I am trying to use the painful recovery as an object lesson in making sure I do a better job at self-care. Here's hoping!
Also approaching is the date I start my shots for our next FET. Honestly, this date will not come soon enough. I have at least eight friends and relatives who are all pregnant. Add in all the celebrities--Duchess Kate, Kim Kardashian, Jessica Simpson--and I am an emotional puddle. On the plus side, I am no longer angry at those who are pregnant. I am joyful that they are happy and, at least as far as I know, were easily successful in their endeavor. Still, I am tired of being happy for everyone else. My joy for them seems to only compound my anger and frustration at being stuck in a holding pattern. When is it my turn? Why am I forced to pay thousands of dollars to do what reality stars on MTV do by accident? While friends and bloggers I follow are all closing down their baby-making factories and having surgery to prevent any more kids, I am angrily fighting against time to get one more in before the clock stops.
So, what has my angry, pitying self done during this recovery period (when not working from home, that is)? Tortured myself with episodes of TLC's A Baby Story, that's what. So, let's recap. I'm in pain and feeling guilty for taking the time necessary to recover from surgery while feeling totally inadequate because my infertility is keeping me from that which I desperately want and my only solution keeps failing. So, come on January 18. Get here so I can get started; so I can hope and dream again; so I can feel like I'm doing something productive--something, hopefully, REproductive. Save me from myself. Let's make this a year to remember--hopefully for the better.
9 days and counting...
Hello, 2013. We are not off to a great start, but that is not entirely unexpected. I previously mentioned that I was starting the year with major outpatient surgery. More specifically, I had major hemorrhoid surgery. Thus, the very slow, very painful, recovery I am currently experiencing is a literal pain in the ass. I badly needed this surgery. When I went to the doctor for my surgical evaluation after a visit to the urgent care for two very thrombosed hemorrhoids, he indicated that although their policy is to avoid a hemorrhoidectomy at all costs, that was not an option for me. After the surgery was done, the doctor reiterated to Phil that the surgery had definitely been necessary. So here I sit, er lay, trying to recover. I am having to be patient and sit (lay) still and it's driving me bonkers! Phil is doing an amazing job taking care of Lil' Bit, but I feel like I'm falling down on the job. That's right. I am feeling guilty because I am recovering from surgery! Cognitively, I know that's twisted, but it doesn't stop me from having those feelings. Although I haven't figured out how to stop them, I do have a better understanding of how parents forget self-care. Thus, one of the things I am trying to do while I recover is make sure I am taking care of myself. After all, had I taken better care of myself earlier in life, I likely would not have needed the surgery. So, I am trying to use the painful recovery as an object lesson in making sure I do a better job at self-care. Here's hoping!
Also approaching is the date I start my shots for our next FET. Honestly, this date will not come soon enough. I have at least eight friends and relatives who are all pregnant. Add in all the celebrities--Duchess Kate, Kim Kardashian, Jessica Simpson--and I am an emotional puddle. On the plus side, I am no longer angry at those who are pregnant. I am joyful that they are happy and, at least as far as I know, were easily successful in their endeavor. Still, I am tired of being happy for everyone else. My joy for them seems to only compound my anger and frustration at being stuck in a holding pattern. When is it my turn? Why am I forced to pay thousands of dollars to do what reality stars on MTV do by accident? While friends and bloggers I follow are all closing down their baby-making factories and having surgery to prevent any more kids, I am angrily fighting against time to get one more in before the clock stops.
So, what has my angry, pitying self done during this recovery period (when not working from home, that is)? Tortured myself with episodes of TLC's A Baby Story, that's what. So, let's recap. I'm in pain and feeling guilty for taking the time necessary to recover from surgery while feeling totally inadequate because my infertility is keeping me from that which I desperately want and my only solution keeps failing. So, come on January 18. Get here so I can get started; so I can hope and dream again; so I can feel like I'm doing something productive--something, hopefully, REproductive. Save me from myself. Let's make this a year to remember--hopefully for the better.
9 days and counting...