The Week in Review

Sorry, I'm stealing from C4 there but I couldn't think of a more creative title. I also don't have any new pictures this week. Well, that's not entirely true; I have video on my phone of Caitrin walking (and walking and walking and walking) ALL BY HERSELF up at the park, but I can't figure out how to get it from there to here.

It was a heavily-scheduled week, or at least the first half was. Monday Caitrin had PT. Her therapist said she could see improvement in her posture and balance from the first week. She mentioned that we might want to consider orthotics because Caitrin's left foot turns in a little. But then I took her to the pediatrician on Tuesday for her 18-month well visit. She is 23 lbs, 6 oz (50th percentile) and 31 inches tall (25th percentile), so her growth is consistent. I mentioned to the doctor about the therapist recommending orthotics and he said they're absolutely not necessary, that almost all babies' feet turn in when they first start walking, and that Caitrin is exceedingly double-jointed, which may also contribute. According to him (and he worked with cerebral palsy patients at Hopkins, among his myriad other credentials) the condition almost always corrects itself by late adolescence if not earlier, and only causes problems in distance runners.

The pediatrician was very impressed with Caitrin's language development (it's not just me!). It's unbelievable; she is picking up several new words every day right now. She got her last HiB and Hep A vaccines and came through it unscathed for the first time ever. She's never been much of a crier, but every time previous she's had a fever for at least a few hours afterward. This time, we walked out of the office, noticed how nice it was outside, and went up to the park to watch airplanes! This was when she gave me the biggest surprise of my life. We walked around and around, Caitrin holding my hand. Every few minutes I would let go, take a few steps back and have her walk to me unsupported. We did this a few times, and then one time instead of coming to me, she got halfway and turned around and started walking in the other direction! And she didn't stop! She did this 2 or 3 times and finally I had the good sense to grab my phone and take some video. I've never been so proud of my baby girl. She is a firecracker!

Wednesday Sean and I had our follow-up appointment at S.hady G.rove. For as nervous as I was and as much trouble as we went through to get a babysitter, I'd have thought the appointment was going to be a long one. Not so. The doctor sat down with us, told us that all our prescreening was normal with the exception of morphology, and recommended three cycles of IUI. That's it, that's all, end of story. So beginning next cycle, IUI it will be. I can't believe we've actually got a plan in place. It's been forever just getting this far.

Now I'm going to turn 180 degrees and reveal the other big development of this week. It would appear that we are most likely going to adopt a retired racing greyhound in the very near future. Sean and I have been very fond of them since our honeymoon, when we stayed in a B&B whose owners had adopted a greyhound. She was so still that we weren't sure she was real at first! We learned that greyhounds are very calm and gentle-natured, that they don't shed, drool or stink like other dogs, that they're great with children and adapt very well to life as house pets. Last Saturday we made one of our regular trips to Petsmart with Caitrin, ostensibly so that she could see the fish and kitties. As it happened, a local greyhound rescue was having a meet and greet and three of their dogs were there. Sean and I were excited to see them and Caitrin, who has really shown no interest in dogs at all, loved these guys. Later Sean and I were talking and I told him that even though I've shied away from getting a dog for years (too much work, too little reward) that I could handle a greyhound. He agreed and said that we could think about it after the next pregnancy.

I started researching greyhound rescue and adoption, and by sheer coincidence I came across the website for the organization whose dogs we'd met at Petsmart. I read and read and discovered that they have an adoption application that you can submit online. I showed Sean what I had found and told him that I really think now would be a great time to adopt. Even if I do get pregnant soon, I could much more easily handle Caitrin and a pregnancy and a new dog than I could Caitrin and a new baby and a new dog. Plus, I'd argued, it'll give me someplace else to focus my energy; to perhaps be a little less sad. I got a call from the rescue on Wednesday, and they may have a dog for us already. I'm to call back Sunday to find out more.

So since then, I've been amassing "doggie stuff." All the rescues whose sites I've visited have great recommendations about what to get before you get your greyhound. We need a sturdy bed (check: $22 at Target), a hulking crate (at least 40"x28"x30"; check: $42 on eBay), a coat (because they're so thin; check: $9.95 on eBay), a muzzle (check: $10 from a rescue in Michigan), an elevated feeder (check: $19.95 at Wal Mart), and various and sundry squeaky toys, dental chews and treats. I've also bought It’s Me Or The Dog: How to Have the Perfect Pet by Victoria Stilwell, as I’m a huge fan of It’s Me Or The Dog. I’ve determined that this dog is going to be one that people love to be around; one that I can take anywhere, who obeys commands and truly is man’s best friend. I'm really excited about this. It will in no way make me forget that I desperately want another child, but it will give me a positive outlet while we work on it.

I'm off to watch X-Files with my hubby before I collapse from exhaustion. Will continue to work on getting the video from my phone up here.

18 Months Old

Caitrin Says:

1. Daddy
2. Mama
3. Kitty (was “key” at first but is now definitely “kitty”)
4. Baby
5. Hi
6. Me
7. What’s that? (most of the time it’s “us za” or “us da,” but sometimes it’s really “what’s that”)
8. You
9. Bye
10. Shoe
11. Yeah
12. Eye
13. Wow
14. Okay
15. Queaky (the name she gave the seahorse toy she carries everywhere)
16. Circle (and she really does pronounce it correctly – I was stunned)
17. Turtle (again, pronunciation is correct…unbelievable)
18. Monkey (one of her myriad nicknames)
19. Uh-oh
20. Go
21. Oh, baby
22. Good girl
23. Oh, man
24. Silly kitty (“see kitty”)
25. Silly baby (“see baby”)
26. Okay, baby
27. All done
28. Oh, no
30. Amen

Caitrin Recognizes (will point to pictures and/or the actual item):

1. Daddy
2. Mama
3. Baby
4. Kitty
5. Drum
6. Guitar
7. Ball
8. Monkey
9. Lion
10. Elephant
11. Butterfly
12. Caterpillar
13. Ladybug
14. Birdie
15. Mouse
16. Flower
17. Fish
18. Octopus
19. Lobster
20. Starfish
21. Crab
22. Turtle
23. Seahorse
24. Squirrel
25. Teddy bear
26. Head
27. Ear
28. Eye
29. Nose
30. Mouth
31. Belly
32. Hand
33. Knee
34. Foot
35. Shoes
36. Socks
37. Books
38. Big plane
39. Lipstick
40. Dog
41. Calendar
42. Light
43. Table
44. Rooster
45. Diaper

Fun Idiosyncrasies:
Caitrin clearly knows who her own Mama and Daddy are, but right now she thinks that all adult women are “mama” and adult men are “daddy.” This makes for interesting shopping trips and appointments, as she’ll point to a random man and scream out “DADDY” at the top of her lungs.

She is beginning to respond when I ask her questions. If I ask, “Are you all done?” she’ll often reply with “yeah” or “okay.” Sometimes follows directions when I ask her to help me put toys away.

She knows that you brush your hair with a hairbrush and sometimes does pretty well brushing hers. She knows socks and shoes go on your feet and will often attempt to put hers on.

Somehow she understands that you dip chicken nuggets in mustard or ketchup. One night I handed her a whole plate at dinner instead of giving her bites at a time, and on the plate I had squirted some mustard, just to see what would happen. She picked up a nugget, dunked it, and put it in her mouth, and kept doing so until they were gone.

She does understand how to feed herself from a spoon but won’t really do it, and won’t allow us to feed her from a spoon anymore. As such, her diet consists of all the things we eat that don’t require silverware in order to be eaten.

She will not hold her own sippy cup. She just refuses. Won’t even try. She is such a diva.

Snake Eyes/Language Explosion

At long last we close out a hectic week. Sunday was my Day 3 draw, as previously mentioned. Results all normal. Monday was Sean's SA and Cassy's follow-up at the vet. We've yet to hear about Sean, but Cassy is doing well. I mentioned that I've seen her scratching her ears again and so we're bumping her meds back up to every other day for 2 weeks. She's gained almost a pound because the 'roids give her the munchies. As long as she doesn't gain any more, she'll be fine.

Tuesday was supposed to be a recuperation day, but Caitrin decided not to nap and therefore it was anything but. She's cute (adorable, actually), but she exhausts me when I don't get a break. Sean and I were in bed by 9:30. Wednesday was my perinatologist consult. As was the case with all my previous dealings with them, this was a great experience. I finally have a diagnosis for the alarming spike in blood pressure that I had as soon as Caitrin was delivered. Postpartum preeclampsia. Never heard of such a thing. I knew it wasn't the "nothing" that all my OB's were playing it off as. The peri said that it's not likely to happen again, but advised me to start taking baby aspirin now and continue through pregnancy in order to prevent it. I told him that I want to do everything possible to prevent it from happening again, and he assured me we will. He also encouraged me to drop Aldomet and just take Procardia, as it is safe in pregnancy and a much more sophisticated drug.

And yesterday was HSG day. My biggest headache was finding someone to watch Caitrin. There are those in my world who don't support our seeking medical intervention to have another child, who appear to believe that being a Christian and seeking help with infertility are mutually exclusive. As such, there were some folks I couldn't even ask about childcare. But my amazing husband arranged for his mom and her friend to come, under the guise that I needed to "run errands." A wonderful time was had by all.

I was well-versed in the technical ins and outs of the procedure, but I was very concerned, as I mentioned last time, about the pain aspect. I know everyone's experience is a little different, but mine really was a piece of cake. I followed the advice of the major IF bloggers and took 800 mg of ibuprofen an hour and a half beforehand, but I could've done without it. It was no more uncomfortable than your everyday pelvic exam. It took them forever to place the catheter, but once they did, the procedure was over in seconds. The dye cleared the right tube immediately and the left about 15 seconds later. All is normal. The only surprise for me was the amount of spotting I've had. I've wondered, previous to this procedure, if the left tube was slightly blocked for whatever reason. The dye cleared a little more slowly than it did the right tube, so my personal theory is that there was a very slight blockage that was dislodged, hence the spotting. But I've been no more crampy than a light flow day.

So it would appear at the time of this writing that our diagnosis will be the oh-so-frustrating "unexplained infertility." Now that our prescreening is through, I will call to schedule our follow-up consult, whereby we will hopefully draw up a plan of action. I can't sit idly by anymore, letting cycle after cycle amount to nothing. I remember a commercial that used to run on TV when I was a kid...back in the days when beer commercials ran on television. It was for Pabst Blue Ribbon and the slogan was "PBR me ASAP." All week I've had this image in my head of me wearing a t-shirt to our follow-up consult that says "IUI me ASAP." Seriously, if they told me I could have an IUI tomorrow, I'd do it.

On the Caitrin front, she is currently supposed to be napping AGAIN and refusing to. Grrrrrr!!! She is becoming quite the little chatterbox all of a sudden. She's always been very verbal for her age, but it's like her vocabulary has expanded tenfold in the past week. Her latest words and phrases are "okay," "wow," "uh-oh," "silly baby," "silly kitty," "good girl," "no-no," and "monkey." She can now identify her head, hair, eye, nose, ear, mouth, hand, arm, belly, knee, and foot if I ask her to point to them. When we read, she will point to pictures of a kitty, doggie, butterfly, teddy bear, bird, fish, ladybug, flower, guitar, ball, monkey, baby, mama, and daddy. She is beginning to put toys away and books back on their shelves when I ask her to. She "parrots" everything we say now, so it's a good thing we keep a tight rein on our mouths for the most part!

I am seriously fighting the temptation to just crash today - sleep, let the dishes go and the diapers fold themselves. If and when there is a nap, you'd better believe I will be indulging in one of my own. I've suddenly got a mad craving for a good cup of decaf, so I'm gonna go indulge.

Grueling Schedule

Today began a very busy week for us, and me in particular. Before church I had to go to S.hady G.rove for my Day 3 blood draw, plus locate two offices in Annapolis I'll be visiting later in the week and wasn't familiar with.

I am such a newbie in this IF world, despite all I think I know. I didn't realize that they did a transvaginal ultrasound on Day 3 as well. No biggie; I had one of these at 5 weeks pregnant with Caitrin so once they told me I was having it I knew what to expect. After that I met with the nurse to review the schedule of upcoming procedures, and she said that from her cursory glance at my ultrasound, everything looks good. Uterus is normal shape & size (which I wasn't worried about since I carried Caitrin almost to term with no problems), and ovaries are normal as well...i.e., normal size, no cysts. I was worried about that, because I get weird intermittent pains near the left ovary at certain points in my cycle. Tomorrow I will hear from my nurse about the results of my blood work. I'm expecting to hear I have high prolactin, and maybe diminished ovarian reserve as well, but I am purely self-diagnosing, and though I think I know much, there is a great deal I don't know.

Tomorrow Sean will be my hero, as he goes for his SA. As I said previously, I'd rather have a zillion invasive pelvic procedures that have to do what he's doing. Will probably make the trip into Annapolis with him to drop off his contribution, as he's yet to go to SG and they've royally frigged up the parking down there at the hospital. Then we have to take Cassy to the vet for a recheck, which should go absolutely fine.

Tuesday is a recuperation day, and then on Wednesday I have my consult with Dr. S.weeney, the perinatologist I saw throughout my pregnancy with Caitrin. I'm excited about this appointment. Everyone loves Dr. S.weeney, not least of all myself, and I haven't had a chance to show Caitrin off to him yet. They moved office since then, and this morning I was able to find what I understand to be the correct building, but didn't see the practice name on the building itself.

On Thursday I have my HSG. As previously mentioned, I am excited and terrified about this one. I did find the building this morning, so I know where I'm going. But I can't take Caitrin with me, and her favorite babysitter has a softball game that day, so at this point I am stuck for someone to watch her. That is the part of all this that I absolutely hate. I feel like I almost have to hide the fact that I have her. It's really tough for me to leave her with anyone, even the handful of people I trust. But that's just part of the game, and complaining doesn't solve it.

So, after Thursday, our fact-finding mission should be over with. And in a couple weeks we'll both go in to talk to the doctor about the results and determine a plan of action. That part is music to my ears. By the time we hit Friday, I think we're all going to be bushed. I've been thinking I need to go by Medallion and visit. It has been since before the holidays that I've been there. But I haven't been in any frame of mind to share what's been going on (or not going on, as is the case) in my life, and the market downturn seems to have started affecting them. I pray they make it through. They've been awfully good to me.

She Did It!

I have been holding off on making a very important announcement. It's been killing me, but I wanted to be sure that the remarkable event I witnessed wasn't a one-time occurrence before I broadcast it. And so, without further ado...drum roll, please...

CAITRIN IS WALKING!!!

That's right, folks. We put her through the trauma of the ECI evaluation, and two days later we were at home playing, and she looked over at me sitting on the edge of the couch, got a very determined look in her eye, and proceeded to take a step toward me, unaided. I got down on the floor and held my arms out, cheering her on, and she took four more steps into my arms. The look on her face was priceless, and I scooped her up and twirled her around and jumped up and down and screamed. I was SO proud! Sean was on his way home, but I couldn't wait the extra 15 minutes to tell him, so I called him as he was pulling out of the parking garage.

She didn't do it again right away, and she still crawls the majority of the time, but I have caught her half a dozen times now making short trips between objects on foot instead of crawling. And she'll walk all over the house now holding our hands, and most of the time just holding one hand. She loves it. All those months I agonized, trying to make her do it. Then one day she just made up her mind that it was fun, and there you have it.

The picture above was taken last night. This was the first time she stood up in the middle of the floor, without any support to start with, and took a few steps. You'll see she's proudly carrying her seahorse. Ah, yes, the seahorse. His name is Queaky (honest, that's what she told us) and he goes everywhere with her. Honest to goodness, my daughter is such a trip. It's a really good thing I have her around for comic relief right now.

Otherwise, things are...well.... I'm going Sunday before church to have my Day 3 blood work drawn. And next Thursday, the 12th, I'm scheduled for an HSG, a prospect that both excites and terrifies me. I so desperately want to get this fact-finding mission, this testing phase, behind us and start DOING something. Whatever's wrong, I just want to hurry up and fix it already. And I'm excited, either to learn that they can't find anything, or that they found something but there are plenty of options to treat it. At the same time, I have read numerous personal accounts from women who've had the procedure, and they range from "I didn't feel a thing," to "I bled like a stuck pig," to "it was worse than labor." Worse than my particular labor I strongly doubt, so at least I know I can survive anything less than that. There's also a tiny corner of my brain that houses the worry that they'll find something so severe it can't be fixed, thus putting to death the dream of a quiver full of arrows.

I can't speak for Sean, but I've spoken with him enough to assume he has many of the same fears. He's done his blood work and goes for the really heinous part of his deal, the SA, on Monday. Most of these tests are pretty undignified, but I think his takes the cake. Society loves to belittle men for so many reasons, and women seem to feel the need to go on and on about how our lives are supposedly so much more difficult then men's. But to be honest, I'd rather go through a hundred pelvic exams than one SA. I love him for being my partner in the trenches.

I hate knowing that the cycle that began today is going to be one more where there's no chance of anything happening. We're testing, for one, so there is no treatment protocol yet, and I've all but given up any hope of our babymaking efforts achieving their objective without assistance at this point. The only thread I'm hanging onto now is that maybe, just maybe, next cycle we'll actually be doing something proactive. I ache when I realize how quickly time's going by. Every month of nothing is one more month I'm older, Sean's older, Caitrin's older. One more month farther away from my days of breastfeeding and snuggling a tiny baby all day. I've already forgotten so much. I'm terrified of forgetting more, and of Caitrin being my only chance to experience such a breathtaking phenomenon...pregnancy, childbirth, breastfeeding, mothering a newborn. You know, there are those for whom no treatment ever works. What says that won't be us?

I Grieve

I ate a bag of miniature Reese’s peanut butter cups today. All by myself. Because I’m done. Done being careful. Done being hopeful. Done denying myself the things that make me, me. Bubble baths. Chocolate. Coffee. Chai tea lattes. Curling up with my heating pad. Taking Advil for headaches. Dancing. I am done, because it’s futile. I’ve sworn off me for seven cycles now, and I’m not pregnant. I’m done with Vitex and flax and evening primrose oil, with swilling Robitussin when I most definitely do not have a cold. I was careful; it was useless. I was an amateur; I got Caitrin.

I don’t even recognize this girl, this me. Six months ago, she was so hopeful. Loving life with her baby girl. Captivated by Sarah Palin. Studying God’s word every day. Today, she is harder. Kicking and screaming to hold onto the few fleeting baby days that remain in Caitrin’s life. Ticked at God beyond belief. Reduced to tears on each of the rare occasions that she ventures out in public, because everyone else in the world is pregnant. Her Facebook friends. All the girls she met while she was pregnant with Caitrin. Every young female patron of Target, Wal-Mart, Chick-fil-A. She cries like she hasn’t done since she was a hormonal teenager. Rages at her husband. Questions her judgment, her reasons for being, her faith.

I have often found that if I look back at my life, particular periods can be brilliantly illustrated by whatever music was my soundtrack at the time. When I was dancing in college, Art of Noise and Janet Jackson featured prominently on my mix CDs. When Uncle Chris died, I could not breathe without John Prine and U2, his favorites. When Sean and I got married, Canon was our wedding march and made it to every CD I burned, along with Bonnie Raitt’s “Not the Only One,” The Beatles’ “I Will,” and “Songbird” by Fleetwood Mac. When Mom left Dad, I played Jackson Browne’s “Sky Blue and Black,” Def Leppard’s “Long, Long Way to Go” & Stevie Nicks’ “Miss You” ad nauseam.

The playlist I just burned to CD last week is no less illustrative. “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman. Rufus Wainwright’s heartbreaking “Hallelujah.” Fleetwood Mac’s “Goodbye Baby” (ah yes, rather a propos?). And my anthem, “I Grieve,” by Peter Gabriel. Emotive. Morose, even. Welcome to a day in the life.

I button up, polish, put on the mask. Smile at the couple in McDonald’s with a baby Caitrin’s age and one just born. Read the status updates of the aforementioned pregnant Facebook friends and post encouraging comments. And then I pack away my nursing bras, the last vestiges of the relationship that ended too soon and for naught, and collapse in tears on the floor of my closet. Storm out of the house in a mad fury after yet another argument about where to turn, drive until I’m numb and pound the steering wheel till my knuckles are swollen. I hurt. I ache. My heart is shattered. And I’m done pretending it’s not. That this will be “our month.” That it will “happen when it’s supposed to happen,” as countless “concerned” parties have quipped.
By the by, there is an unwritten etiquette manual reserved for dealing with women who are having difficulty conceiving or have suffered a miscarriage. It includes an extensive chapter on what not to say to said women. Here are several highlights:

• The old standby, “I’ll happen when it’s supposed to happen.” Invalidation 101.
• “Just relax, and it’ll happen.” Who died and made you the expert?
• “You’re trying too hard.” Proven: infertility causes stress. Stress does not cause infertility.
• “At least you’re having fun trying.” If only you knew the truth.
• “I know how you feel.” No, you don’t. Unless you have personally walked this road, you could never presume to know. Nor would you want to.
• “You should be thankful for what you already have.” So, because I want more children, I’m not?!

Should you find yourself in a situation in which you are trying to comfort a woman grieving infertility, think hard about the words you choose and their impact. The lesson we learned from watching Bambi still holds true today. Often, it is better to say nothing at all than to use words as weapons. If Disney’s a little juvenile for you, consider Gandhi. If you can’t be helpful, be harmless.