I refuse to entertain fantasies that Femara will get me a healthy baby. I’ve seen it happen to others, but this is me, Eeyore, the eternally pessimist. I am hopeful tho, that having a new plan will snap me out of the depressive funk I’ve been mired in since my last miscarriage.
So I woke up hypomanic, gabbing away at a million miles a minute and dropping the remainder of my birthday money on expensive cosmetics. I had meant to squirrel the money away for fertility treatments and being a slightly-in-remission schizoaffective bipolar, I failed utterly. These are red flags, and I made sure to alert my psych to this sudden emergence of symptoms. I cannot lose control right now; the future of Europe hangs in the balance (if you get that reference, let’s make friends).
I picked up my letrozole this afternoon, along with my chill pills. It seemed an appropriate juxtaposition representative of my current role as a mentally ill infertile. I would say that the majority of women I’ve talked to facing infertility, loss, and the prospect of ending up childless deal with a considerable amount of anxiety. Perhaps they aren’t completely incapacitated by panic in the way I’ve always been but hey! Drink till it’s pink, pills until positive.
I am half-joking. Tranquilizers aren’t a risk most women should take while ttc (trying to conceive) but my reproductive psychiatrist has okayed low dosages until I’m pregnant (IF it ever happens again). If I get knocked up, I can take them occasionally but they do cause birth defects and I don’t want a baby born addicted. These are waters I’m treading <i>very</i> carefully and am extremely closely monitored.
I wind up Molly’s music box, a stuffed hippopotamus named Piggy. I’ve had Piggy since I was a toddler and he still sings You Are My Sunshine. The night before we stopped her heart, Geoff and I snuggled up with Piggy on my bump and played him for Molly. Because we loved her. Because we wanted her to know how sorry we were. And as loquacious as I am when on an upswing, I just didn’t have the words.
Even through my mood swings, the sorrow is always there.