March 14

I've been out of work since March 14. It was the weekend before that Mrs Grandma Fox (Mr Fox's) mom had visited. It was that following Friday, March 11 that the cramps started, that my post failed FET cycle started, that the passing of clots started. It was that Saturday that I stayed in bed, with the heating pad, and wore the heating pad for comfort.  It was that evening that I called my GP to tell her i was passing clots and having significant cramps. Her response was so normal, so appropriate in some way, that it would be normal to have more cramps and pass clots after a chemical pregnancy, that it was nothing to worry about. But it wasn't what I needed to hear. I needed to hear that she was so sorry, that it was going to to be hard to have physical symptoms that made you think about the emotional symptoms. I needed her to acknowledge the pain and loss that I had and was experiencing. I needed her to not 'blow me off' when I was calling to get ... to get what? ... She is a GP and was going to address the medical issue, but I expected something that would validate me and acknowledge that I was a whole person and that the physical pain could trigger some of the emotional pain that i'd done such a great job of holding together.

A poppy flower just before it blooms.

On Tuesday March 15, we had our re-group with Dr G.  I'd called in sick to work already that week. He was so kind and gentle and explained that we just don't know why these things don't work sometimes For some sad reason we fell into the 5% of pregnancies that start but don't continue. no one knows why, its just thats the way is it. He said that we would add an antihistamine protocol to our next attempts, but otherwise I responded beautifully to the medication and everything else would stay the same. He suggested we take a month break before starting another cycle.

I'm not exactly sure how the rest of the week deteriorated but by Friday my mom and Mr Fox had made an appt to take me to my therapist. I was a mess. Crying about anything, desperately holding onto Mr Fox, I wasn't me. at all. I was lost, far gone. The conclusion at the therapy office was that I needed to see a psychiatrist ASAP, and the only way to do that was to go to the Emergency Dept. So off we went to the ED, where I was met at the door by the L&D director whom I work with professionally. Somehow Mr Fox managed to keep me from being admitted and getting me into an appt that afternoon. So off we went to the Psychiatrist who prescribed me a shit ton of drugs and made a n apt for the following week.

Its all a big fucking blur. I actually felt pretty good today, but writing this, it brings it all back, It makes me feel that hopeless nothingingness. That feeling like they might as well admit me to the Hospital Psych ward because at least I'd be taken care of there. Like maybe they have better medication than I do here at home.

It's late, and this was not my writing assignment. I should just take another xanax and put on a video.

I just want my life back. I just want it all back. It feel so fucking unfair and confusing.

containers

One of our sessions today was about "containment". and my homework is to write about it, how I felt, how I contain, what it brings up for me.

For me, this blog this blog this been a container for me. I can share things here, anything here. I have of fear of judgment, and only feel support. It is a safe place to where I can share essentially anything.

They talked about a physical container that we could write or draw things and put those things away. I thought about my wicker box that has help all of my fertility medication, and now holds all of the psychotic drugs that I take 4 times a day. I thought about taking a paper and writing a great big F. U.C.K on the paper and putting it in that god damn wicker box.

My other homework assignment was to walk around the block, which I did.

I keep having this feeling of; how did we get here. What the fuck happened? It turns out that the failed FET may simply have been a straw that broke the camel's back. The stress of Mr Fox's drinking given my own personal history of my dad's functional alcoholism has been building.

Mr Fox and I got into a massive argument last night. I just hate the fact that he drinks every night, I hate that he is not fully present, I hate hate hate it. This came up in group therapy today and other than the one woman who felt like I was an ungrateful bitch for feeling like I wanted more, everyone else in the room understood what I meant when I said that I needed him to be there for me 100%, 100% of the time. It felt good to be understood. and validated.

I am supposed to write about my dad, about his drinking, the secrets that existed in our family growing up. I'm not sure what to say though. Does a tree count as a container of sorts. a really complicated container that has beauty on the top and a complex system of hidden roots?





btw - all I want to eat are cookies.

another day

I am loving pandora radio. Music is so soothing. I'm carrying my ear buds in my purse everywhere. I am also loving a few of the free meditation podcasts. "My Thought Coach", "The Meditation Podcast" and "My Meditation Station are my favorite at the moment. I'd love suggestions for others.

I am slowly realizing that i may not be able to drive this summer, due to my medication. Which means I will have to rely on my husband to drive me to work, and my mom to take little fox to all of his fun summer programs. It is a hard pill to swallow. I need to talk to my therapist about it - al least so that I can feel like we have a plan. Everything feels so much more manageable when we have a plan.

This vacation has been really amazing. But I am going to pay for it next week. I get the feeling that this is the kind of progress where you take three steps forward and four steps back. The next steps come more easily, but still, I am going to rebound from the exhaustion of this excursion.

We gave Mr Fox his dad's ring last Night. It was one of the Surprises that I was able to pull off in coordination with his sister and step mom. It was emotional asking his sister if it would be okay, it was emotional for her to ask this step-mom to send it. and it was emotional having his sister giving it to him last night.  I knew that it would be heavy, and it was. But i know that he know how much we went through to get it here and that he loves having this tangible memory of his dad to carry with him.

We have to pack up today. We are going to stay to play at the beach, but i won't have a safe place to retreat to. maybe the car. Maybe we can park in a shady place and I can hide there is need be. I'll also max out my medication again today to help keep the panic away and keep me functioning.

Shit I hate that his is so debilitating, and invisible. But on I go.

Oh yeah, I'm still working on my gratitude journal, so send me an email to foxypopocorn@gmail.com with your email address if you want a postcard from the beautiful central coast paradise that I am visiting. It would give me SO MUCH pleasure to send you a little love.

vacation

I just woke up. Everyone is going to breakfast. I did it. I wore my jacket and did it.

Little Fox had his first sleepover, with his cousins in the loft. He loved it.

I woke up, in this strange place, thinking to myself, what medical thing am I dreading today. I was anxious waking up in a strange place.

I want to get a tattoo - well a few actually. I need to ask my mom and dad to write me a note that says “I love you forever” and have those done in white ink. Not sure where to have them put though. Also really considering a white ink tattoo on my inner wrist that says "this too shall pass” That slogan has gotten me through so many hard toes and reminded me to enjoy the good times as well.

I am am worried that this weekend was too much. And is going to put me back. It’s just been so much and I feel myself wanting desperately to hide in my bedroom again, to recover. On the phone everyone says - look how far you’d come, you’ve made so much progress. But I don’t feel that way.

The Alaska Fleece Hooodie

Why why why is this so f;ing hard. I am a f;ing wreck. An irrational wreck.

Just got into a huge fight with Mr Fox about a jacket  - the Alaska Fleece Hoodie that i lost sometime in the last month. It made me feel safe. I could pull the hood up, put on my sunglasses and hide from the outside. I wore it then we did our ODWU (One Day Work Up) at CCRM.

I am so scared about this program that starts tomorrow. I am so scared that I am simply overwhelmed.

He wouldn't take me to the store to get a new jacket tonight, so I called my mom. She came right away and we got a new jacket, one with a hoodie so that I can hide in my hoodie tomorrow if I need to.

It's so stupid. But I feel so abandoned by Mr Fox.  He was trying to be rational with an irrational being who was in a full blown panic. It was a losing battle for both sides.

We just got home and had a brief talk. I told him that I felt abandoned, at least in that moment.

I told him that his drinking is going to come up in this program. He is rationalizing that it was okay to lie to me  about it because I put a 'condition' that I don't want to know about it.  In him mind that means he can drink whenever he wants and hide it from me. The truth is that he broke his promise to me.  The only thing I left our last conversation with with that he promised to NOT LIE to me about when he was drinking.

I am scared that this is going to end our relationship.
I am scared about tomorrow.
I am so f;ing scared that the drugs I'm taking can't touch it and the tears keep coming.
f. f. f.

Partial Hospitalization Program

I'm exhausted. This morning we took a tour of a Partial Hospitalization Program. It's like intensive outpatient therapy. Then we had lunch and saw the Psychiatrist. I doubled up on the Valium before we left the house, and thank god I did. It was an intense morning. But I did it.

And it looks like I will be starting the program on Monday. They are suggesting 6 days/week, but my god, the thought of three days makes my head spin. We agreed to take it own day at a time. So I will go on Monday and see how it goes.

I just don't understand how it got so bad so quickly. Part of me feels like I should be able to just 'suck it up' and get over myself. But then reality of leaving the house panic sets in, the reality of work stress sets in, the reality of marriage and family responsibility set in, and then it all crumbles.

They said to start a grateful journey, so I'm sending some love out to those of you whose address I have. A little lavendar love from our garden. Hopefully it survives the journey from my heart to yours.  (and if I don't have you address but you'd like some love, send me an email at foxypopcorn at gmail.)

Love and hugs to you all, and wish me some bravery and strength on Monday.

ACTION ALERT: Maternal Mental Health: H.R 3235 / S. 2311

ACTION ALERT:

The National Coalition for Maternal Mental Health is calling for all hands on deck to get 100 Congressional signers in the next couple of weeks to pass H.R 3235 / S. 2311), Bringing Postpartum Depression Out of the Shadows Act. Please take 5 minutes to submit a letter to your Congressman and Senator urging them to sign on in support of this legislation. A draft letter is included below and can be submitted online at: http://actioncenter.marchofdimes.org/app/onestep-write-a-letter?10&engagementId=169033

Dear Honorable Congressman / Senator,

I am writing to respectfully and urgently ask you to sign on in support of H.R. 3235 Bringing Postpartum Depression Out of the Shadows Act of 2015.

Perinatal Mood and Anxiety Disorders (PMAD) are the #1 medical complications related to childbearing. When a woman has a PMAD and does not get the proper support or treatment she is at an increased risk of chronic mental health issues, she and her partner experience increased absenteeism at work, higher incidence of divorce, and her children risk increased cognitive, emotional and physical deficits.

Currently PMAD screening is not a standard of care at Federally Qualified Health Centers (FQHC) for new mothers and only a small fraction of new mothers are receiving a Peri-natal Mood and Anxiety Disorder (PMAD) diagnosis. We know that as many as 20% of mothers are suffering without a diagnosis. For many women a diagnosis and referral to treatment by their provider is essential to connect with with resources and support.

Communities across the Country are  forming Maternal Mental Health Task Forces to raise awareness about these issues and develop local action plans to improve care, both clinically and community-based, for new mothers and families. But we can't do it alone. We need your help. Please sign on in support of H.R. 3235 Bringing Postpartum Depression Out of the Shadows Act of 2015.

Thank you so much for your consideration. It means so much to us moms. I look forward to your response.

Sincerely,

Loaded

Today was not an easy day. It started off okay. I got up with Little Fox. Got him dressed and fed and ready to head off to school with daddy. I was on my own for about an hour, which was much more anxiety provoking that I expected. My mom arrived to take me to my therapy appt. I was freaking out about leaving the house. The panic just escalated until we got the the therapy office where I started crying. and crying. I had a list of things to talk about and ran through them all. The bottom line was that we agreed that my meds were not working. I needed to get seen by a physician asap and get them adjusted. The anxiety spiral was getting worse and worse. I didn't want to leave my room anymore.

It got ugly when my mom and Mr Fox disagreed about the best steps forward. It was beyond stressful for me to hear them trying to come to terms with a plan forward. In the end I just started taking xanax. It was an old prescription but i was desperate for some relief from the panic. The xanax helped. I did some grown up coloring. I did some facebooking. I cuddled with Mr Fox. Then it was time to go to the new Dr. I don't understand what happened but Mr Fox said things that freaked me out and we got into some sort of argument. I was freaking out, crying, fearful of leaving our house, terrified that the new Dr was not going to help me and I'd be left in this awful state of mind.

We got to the Dr and he did listen to me. He took away the Halcion and Klonopin, but added valium 3x day and Xanax as needed. He gave me a regular schedule for the meds, but also told me how much extra I can take if needed. We have another appt on Friday.

The other thing I was SO worried about was work. I'd spoken to my boss who was supportive, but then my colleague called today and I panicked. Turns out she was just calling to let me know that I have a ton of vacation and can take as much time off as I need. Wow. Okay that was a relief.

So, As it currently stands, I am LOADED on drugs right now. Hoping that they can help me get to sleep, but instead I am here blogging. It feels good to write though.

I do believe (in this particular moment) that I am strong and will overcome this, but damn it, I wish it could happen faster.

happy easter, or whatever

I suddenly feel like a enormous burden to everything around me. and yet all afternoon I was feeling so good, so cal, so collected in my thoughts.

Mr Fox, don't even know how to unravel these thoughts. He was drinking again without telling me. He was only doing it when I wasn't around or after Id gone to bed, but HE LIED TO ME AGAIN. I can't rewind conversations from the past but I swear that the agreement was that no matter what happened he would NOT lie to me ever ever again about his drinking. I am so angry, no hurt, but yet I so desperately need him, for like everything right now that I don't even know how to call him out on that shit. Had the circumstances been different I would have told him to leave.  To leave until he had time to think over his choice, apologize to me and swear that he would never gain lie at the risk of our future together. Those are the things I can't say, because I need him, because my only other option right now would be in-patient treatment at a local hospital.  Shit. And to hame it more complicated he has been amazing, gone out of his way to make me NOT feel like a burden, to be a rock star advocate, to keep me safe. He is my hero, so it just doesn't feel fair to have all those other feelings about the betrayal of drinking.

I talked to my  boss tonight about taking long term disability, activating my FMLA and trying to figure out to keep my benefits. The health benefits that I carry for our family that my employer pays about $2,000 month for. I could go withoutn the pay, (which is the deal since my unit opted out of SSDI), but I can't have the additional expense of paying for the health benefits, even if they agree to save my job for me. My boss is amazing, like a fairygod mother. She loved me and supported me and offered anythign that we need to do to extend my leave as long as I need and to keep my benefits as long as we possibly can.

The thought of being out of work for months, I just can't understand what happened. I was there one day and then bam I devolved. Part of me wonders if I should just ask mr fox to take me back to the hospital so that he can have a normal week. The guilt i feel is overwhelming.

Little Fox is such a sweetheart. He is loving and kind and gentle. We had a very nice easter morning. I even did the pinterest mom things and put creape paper up on his door and made a cute little basket with his favorite toys. I t was hard to leave the house to go to brunch with my mom. I felt on the verge of tears the whole time. But I did it. My family loves me.

I spent the rest of the day at home in my bed, with my laptop and tv, and magazine. it felt safe and warm and relaxed. I felt like everything was normal. It was in the state of mind that I spoke to my boss.

The cotton mouth is killing me. Its from the drugs, but dang I cant drink enough water to starve it off, and it gives me a sore throat. and the sleeping drugs, I'm not sure they are helping at all. I took the Hancion at 7:30 last night but was still awake at 11pm worried about the creape paper in the hallway. However I slept hard enough that I woke with a yukky kink in my neck, probably because I didn't move in my sleep. Things to talk to the Psych about I suppose.

I don't think that these meds are right, at least for right now. The acute panic sets in like a thunderstorm and I can't get it back under control fast enough which sets off a cycle of rebound panic. I need something that will zonk me. I get why people self medicate. I get it now. I'm not going to do it, but i'm going to tell my psych that i need better tools to control/prevent the spiral.

I really do feel like I am a hostage being held by my brain. Like my rational brain is being held hostage by the crazy brain. But even the rational brain has issues that need to be addressed in order to feel as peace.

I have a masseuse coming to the house tomorrow morning to give me a massage. Maybe it will help me get a little grounded. and help my neck krink. Other than that I have on my list, to take a shower, get dressed, and try to do some gardening in the year.

Augusta thank you for your comment. It meant a lot coming from you.  Did you get the little package we mailed a month ago? I know the mail can be slow and getting back to people is even harder. Little Fox helped me make the bag, He loves his.

Damn this journey. Damn it all.


At least my little fox got an easter to be remembered.

too much

My big plans for today included getting up, getting dressed, eating breakfast, walking down the street to an exercise class, then walking home and working on a small to-do list. Sounds reasonable right.

Dressed safely in my sunglasses and hoodie, because just like the the Dude taught us sunglasses will protect you from anything, I walked the two blocks to class.

My alerts were all on high as I walked farther and farther from my house. There were only a few moms at the class but my anxiety kept climbing so that I texted Mr Fox to come get me halfway through the class. As soon as we were done I opened the door and he was waiting right there with our dog to walk me home.

I've been reeling since then. I don't ever want to leave our house again.

I am so scared that there is something seriously wrong with me, wrong with my brain. I am so scared that everyone is saying this is just a reaction to an unsuccessful IVF. I am so scared that it is more than that and I am actually really broken, but no one is going to figure it out.