so, it wasn't THAT

Looks like my little pink line was just an evaporation... nothing to explain the sleep marathon I've been running the past few weeks.

Lately I've been useless. I can't concentrate worth shit and am falling behind on all of my work. I sleep outrageous amounts of time and can hardly keep my eyes open when I'm awake.

Maybe this is depression? Perhaps some of it is fallout from my advisor's less than kind words? Maybe its time to give up on the PhD and put my efforts somewhere else?

I just hate to make any big life decisions when I feel like crap. It was only weeks ago that I was feeling like there was a light at the end of the tunnel. How did I get back to this place again?

One possible explanation...

I'm not actually "late" yet, so chances are that this is just an evaporation line; but it would go some way to explaining the bizarre attacks of sleep I keep having.

Brilliant Husband says you get what you pay for (in this case, $1.25) and that perhaps I should buy a test from somewhere other than Dollerama. I'll do that in a few days...

Outsourcing Pregnancy?

So...a while back I went to see a high-risk obstetrician to consult on the possibility of pregnancy. It has been almost four years since I miscarried and my mid-thirties turned into my late-thirties.

Quick health review:

- 3 antidepressants (since major depression following miscarriage)

- factor V leiden

- hypothyroidism

- AMA (advanced maternal age)

The specialist told me that my psychiatrist had done me no favours in suggesting that we wait a year past the time when my depression stabilized, as AMA is the factor most likely to impact our ability to conceive.

DH was not thrilled about the prospect of another depressive episode, nor was he keen on the daily injections of Heparin. He proposed that we consider another option. One with no worries about my medications, no worries about blood clotting, no worries about delivery - hire a surrogate.

A surrogate? Really? Could we actually outsource pregnancy? The thought seemed more foreign that I could wrap my head around. I ran it past my mother (thinking she would be horrified) and she loved the idea.

I found a surrogate website and began reading about the ins and outs of this world and learning their vocabulary. I found out that I would be known as an IP - intended parent. The surrogate would be either for GS - gestational surrogacy, or TS - traditional style surrogacy. With a GS, the embryo has no genetic relationship to the surrogate, with traditional the egg of the surrogate is used, and is therefore her genetic child.

The laws in Canada about surrogacy are complex. Apparently it cannot be done for profit and must be altruistic. There are loopholes that allow IPs to compensate their surrogates for their expenses. To help manage the complexity, there are agencies that provide IPs with lawyers, contracts & potential surrogates....and I thought pregnancy would be challenging.

I still wasn't completely sold, but we decided to meet with the fertility clinic to discuss our options anyway.

The physician we met with was a breath of fresh air; she was blunt, direct and provided information without sugar-coating our situation.

I must look a little younger than I actually am**, because when she asked my age, her face fell in an instant. She went from an expression of hopefulness to one of "yeah, right" in a millisecond. Apparently late 30s is NOT the time to try conceiving.

Now I am fairly up to date on all of the statistics about age and risk, but I guess it hadn't truly been processed until this appointment. Apparently we have only have a one in five chance of having a healthy embryo in any cycle and a 50% chance of miscarriage using my eggs.

If we decided to use a donor egg (not allowed in Canada), the odds would be much, much higher. The doctor recommended finding a donor in her early twenties for optimum results. And even though I wasn't sure this was what I wanted, the odds being so stacked against us brought me to tears.

But the bad news wasn't over yet! Because of my history of depression and my blood clotting disorder, I am a BAD CANDIDATE for the fertility drugs used to produce more eggs in a cycle. Yup. I could clot and die or just sink into a depressive episode from which I may never make my way back to normal.

The doctor left to get some forms for blood tests and I burst into tears. My husband -being an overall-great-guy and a pragmatist- told me that this was exactly what he expected.

DH then took out his laptop computer and went to you tube to play me "Furry, Happy Monsters" by REM on Sesame Street. I assure you it is impossible to be sad with Michael Stipe singing to a group of monsters.

It appears then that having a baby of our own is out of the question; but if I am completely truthful with myself, I don't think I ever was ready to outsource pregnancy.

**this is due to botox, not my overall radiant health

pregnancy revisited

Since my last post on pregnancy, I have seen the "high risk obstetrician", my PCP, and the "paediatric pharmacologist" to get input on the advisability of pregnancy.

Interestingly, the biggest risk factor seems to be my blood clotting disorder, 'Factor V Leiden' (FVL). While it can be managed with daily injections of Low-Molecular-Weight Heparin (LMWH), there seems to be concern that FVL increases the overall risk of miscarriage and stillbirth.

The answer to whether or not I could stay on antidepressant drugs through a pregnancy is also unclear. The ideal would be to come off all medications, but that simply isn't an option.

Apparently, if my mystery illness does turn out to be lupus, that will also increase my risks.

So, do we want to chance it? I'm really not so sure right now.

not myself

My thesis outline is overdue and I'm stuck. The ideas are not flowing. My brain is feeling foggy again.

The pain from my shoulder is driving me insane. Nothing seems to soothe it. I can't focus on the lit review when my head hurts if it moves in any direction.

So...is this depression rearing its ugly head again? Now the days are getting shorter, its a worry for me.

I feel like I need more direction from my advisors, but I don't know how to ask for it.

If this is depression, it makes the idea of pregnancy that much more overwhelming.

Good thing for California dreaming...I'm just not feeling myself today.

trying again?

Three years and a half years have passed since the miscarriage. Over that time we have dealt with my post-miscarriage depression, my post-Mirena depression, and a lengthy 'mystery' illness that still remains elusive, although somewhat improved.

All of this time, we have been waiting for my health to get better so that we could try one more time for a baby. Last year I was advised to wait until I had been emotionally stable for at least a year. Well, I'm almost officially into my late thirties and there really is no more time to wait. If we are going to do it, it will have to be now. Going off antidepressants again? NOT an option.

A part of me is terrified. Our chances of conceiving are lower now, our risks are higher, the possibility of another miscarriage hangs over us, only outweighed by the idea of another post-partum depression. It's scary as hell.

There are so many reasons for us not to go forward. But somehow logic isn't winning this debate. It is fight between my head and the biological pull of motherhood.

I'm ready to try again.

Are we crazy?

still grieving my miscarriage

Two years ago this week I conceived. I found this out from my manicurist. While painting my toenails one day, she said to me "You're pregnant". How she could tell, I will never know, but she was right.

I had never really known if I wanted children, and given a history of clotting disorders, wasn't sure it was even well-advised. Nonetheless, I was excited and did everything 'by the book'. No coffee, no alcohol, limited fish, you know the drill...

We started to plan, we were building a new house at the time and designed it to have a nursery connected to our master bedroom. We picked names for either a boy or a girl.

And then on our moving day, I started spotting. An ultrasound showed no heartbeat at 12 weeks. While the movers were busy taking the boxes to our new home, I was busy losing our future child.

Surprisingly, I didn't take it as hard emotionally as I thought I might. I understood that sometimes these things happen and that we could try again.

What I didn't plan for was the crash. About six weeks later, my brain fell apart. I stopped remembering things, had trouble concentrating, experienced confusion, could no longer chair meetings reliably. I felt absolute fatigue and despair.

I was diagnosed with postpartum depression. Treated with a combination of Cipralex, Wellbutrin & Risperdal. It felt like I had left my body, was floating around watching my life from outside of myself. I couldn't carry on a conversation, couldn't feel much of anything, actually.

Falling apart was an awful experience, it involved giving up my career for which I had earned three degrees and considered my identity. I lost my job, my confidence, my life as I knew it.

Two years has gone by and yet still the grief hangs there. As does the question, was it really postpartum depression? Maybe I was misdiagnosed and that might explain why I failed to respond to medication.

Will there ever be a chance to try again? Do we even want to risk it at this point?

Holidays are a good time for reflection, and somehow, despite the noisy children in the hot tub and the screaming babies at breakfast, I am still wondering...