Musings and Snoozes

Remember the Reason You’re Doing This

on April 28, 2018

Well Project Baby (as it seems to have been named) has been quite the up and down over the last few weeks, so much so that writing has gone to the bottom of the list!

When I decided to start including Project Baby in my blog (as opposed to keeping it between close family and friends), I did it because I wanted to put in writing everything that it entailed – that it wasn’t just going to be a case of “ok, I want a baby now” (even if that’s how it seemed to poor Husband when I sprung it on him) and as if by magic, baby occurs. I knew from the start it was going to be complicated by my autoimmune problems, my fibromyalgia, my medication, my anxiety, and my depression. Plus all the other bits and pieces that crop up along any “normal” person’s journey too. So I have a lot to catch up on and process from the last few weeks. I’m pleased to say the general trend is still positive, I’m still going in the right direction, and all the weird and wonderful ups and downs are still very much worth it. So here’s where we are.

Medication

This was going so well and then we hit a road block. A few weeks ago I had the worst period of depression I’ve had for a while (probably since I was in my early 20s, if not before) and it was quite the shock to the system. With having been on Duloxetine for the past 6 years, it made me realise how well it had been working at keeping the depression at bay, and so it was a bit of a wake up call to remember what a depressive episode feels like. On the plus side, with the help of people around me and as much as I hate to admit it, a huge help from the “how does that make you feel?” therapist, I got through it and got back to a level playing field after a couple of weeks. As a consequence, I agreed with the nice, pragmatic, drugs therapist, that increasing my dosage of Imipranine would be best. We’re still in baby safe range, and there was little point me fighting each day, when it could be eased by upping the dosage. So that’s what we did.

At the same time as all this, I’ve been having real problems with managing my body temperature. I’ve always been bad at this, from the rashes I used to get as a teenager when I got too cold, to passing out by the swimming pool when I was 16, to getting it confirmed that it was a common part of having an autoimmune illness a couple of years ago. More recently I’ve been overheating very suddenly, going dizzy, and sometimes fainting. Which is less fun. Having seen my GP about this and having had an ECG, it’s been confirmed that my heart rate is running too high, which is contributing to increasing my temperature and passing out, and that it’s a likely side effect of the Imipramine. So guess what? We can’t increase the dosage after all, and I’ve had to go back down to the previous dosage. It’s incredibly hard not to feel like 2 steps forward and 3 steps back, but I’m doing okay for now on the lower dosage, even if some days feel a bit like wading through treacle. I’m back to see the nice Psychiatrist later this week, so we’ll see where we go from here.

Anxiety

My anxiety has been relatively quiet, which has been a pleasant relief. With the Imipramine, my head actually shuts up at night and so I’m sleeping amazingly. The downside of course is that I’d like to continue sleeping at 7/8/9/10am in the morning, but hey, I’ll take what I can get. I’m now finding that the anxiety is attackng for short, sudden, brief spells instead, and is more irrational than ever. This last week’s cause for sudden attacks has been animals dying. Not even my own animal, just animals in general. I see a bird, a cat, a dog, and immediately think about what if someone hurt them and they were suffering and they couldn’t tell anyone and……..and then I have to physically tell myself to shut up. Which is fine when I’m on my own, less so when there are other people around and I need to shout “pack it in!” to myself. None of this was helped by Bella being sick in the middle of all this, though suffice to say she is not dying, and has instead decided after 4 days of being on hunger strike, that actually she’s quite hungry and will get over it now. Anyway, I’m doing ok, with the help of Diazepam for when it all gets too much (and the promise to my Psychiatrist that I won’t go selling them on the street for copious amounts of money).

Moving House

For anyone who’s spent even 5 minutes with me recently, you will know that I am thoroughly sick of packing, of boxes, of trips to the tip, of living in chaos. But, we are so nearly there! We start moving on Friday evening and oh good lord, it can’t come soon enough. Except it can, because obviously there is still a hell of a lot to pack, throw away, sort etc in the current house, which is exactly why I’m sitting here in Starbucks, writing a mammoth blog post. Obviously. But I am incredibly excited – to be moving back to a small village, to a cottage, to having a flat garden, not to mention the village itself being flat – I cannot wait! Almost everything important is in walking distance from the house, including the park, the pub(s), the doctors surgery, AND the COFFEE AND BOOKSHOP!!!! Seriously, it’s like this place was made for me. Anyway, 6 more days of packing, throwing, sorting, followed by 3-4 days of moving, followed by weeks of unpacking, scowling, chaos, and remembering all the people we need to notify that we’ve moved, and it’ll all be done!

And so to Baby

Don’t get too excited, there is no baby yet. But there almost was, which I am taking to be the most positive news so far. On Tuesday morning, while sat in Starbucks (obviously) I started bleeding. I assumed it was my period, albeit a week early, but by the following day I realised this probably wasn’t just a normal period. After 20 years, you learn what your period should and shouldn’t look like each month, and this was nothing like I was used to – the cramps, the pain in my back, the sheer amount and colour of the blood (I make no apologies for TMI here, either read or don’t!) – I’m the kind of girl who has almighty PMS (just ask my poor Mum about the steel boned corset incident), but apart from the first day, I actually don’t notice too much when my period is here, so to have to go to the bathroom every hour to check I hadn’t bled all over my clothes was definitely not normal. Anyway, bottom line is, it wasn’t normal and I’ve had a very early miscarriage.

Miscarriage is a very emotive word. I’ve learned that with the few people I’ve told over the last couple of days. And quite honestly, I feel a bit guilty about even using the word, even though medically it’s accurate. So first off, let me say, I’m fine. I feel icky, I physically feel a bit like someone has kicked me in the stomach, but emotionally, I’m ok. Everyone is different, so I absolutely won’t take away from anyone else’s reactions to this happening to them, but for me this is purely a biological thing. When people hear miscarriage, they think of losing a baby. That’s not what this is for me – I didn’t even know I was pregnant, there was no emotional attachment to my broken egg that didn’t work right and so had to come out, and so while of course it’s not a pleasant experience, it is just “one of those things”. And actually I don’t say that lightly – I have been shocked to find just how normal this is, and how many women don’t even realise it’s happened to them. For me it was a relatively easy spot, but for someone who is used to really heavy and cramp-ridden periods, I doubt you’d necessarily notice it was happening. And what’s more, statistically it has absoltely zero bearing on getting pregnant in the future – you are no more prone to miscarriage than anyone else if this happens, it is purely an egg that didn’t quite do what it was supposed to do, and that’s that. So I am absoluely taking the positive in that. More importantly for me, this is a massive sign that at least my body can produce an egg and that theoretically I *can* get pregnant. Up until now I haven’t known how my body works or even if it works, so I am calling this progress.

So there we go, that’s pretty much where we’re at now. It’s been quite the disruptive rollercoaster of a time the last few weeks or so, but I haven’t once questioned or regretted what I’m doing, and that to me was the point of writing all this. I want to know when it all becomes too much, when I’m putting myself at too much risk doing this, and when I have to make the decision to try other options. If I don’t take time to reflect then I will carry on regardless, so it feels good to check in and to know that, despite all the chaos described above, we’re still on the right track, still heading in the right direction, and still getting one step closer to Project Baby.

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2 responses to “Remember the Reason You’re Doing This

  1. LeeSoyer says:

    Nice that you feel like being on the right track, and better yet that you’re managing your anxiety with a low dosage of drugs.

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