My prayer buddy this Advent was BlessedBeLord. I prayed for all her intentions, especially that she would conceive a child (soon!!) that she could raise here on earth.
I hope everyone has a wonderful and blessed Christmas, especially with relatives who don't ask too many questions or say anything insensitive. ;)
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Advent and IF
I know Advent is almost over, but I came across these words of Pope Benedict from a sermon he gave to college students in 1964 and wanted to share them.
To me this describes life with infertility quite well, not just during Advent. I feel like my whole journey with IF has been learning how to show God all the ugly sides that I wish weren't there. But I can see that it's especially relevant during Advent because while the Church is telling me to rejoice and prepare for the Lord's coming and have hope, I'm looking at my life wondering if I'm just supposed to ignore all the suffering in my life, at least until after Christmas, so as not to put a damper on the season. So I really appreciate what the pope said above about not having to ignore the burdens we're facing in order to observe Advent. Our priest on Sunday reminded us that our reason for rejoicing (especially on Gaudete Sunday) is not based on what's going on in our lives as tempting as that is (e.g. my world is falling apart so I don't feel like rejoicing); it's based totally on Christ, and it doesn't matter if we "feel" like rejoicing or not.
In some ways I do feel like Job--the part about telling God that I'm standing here in my darkness without answers, not the part about hurling outrageous accusations (I have questions, maybe, but not accusations). I thought infertility and a cycle that seems to be getting worse rather than better was plenty cross for me, but then DH's job loss happened. It made IF alone look a lot better; at least it's a familiar cross. Then a few days later my favorite and only living grandparent went into the hospital because she was tired. Grandma left with a heart diagnosis (estimated up to two years left) and cancer. She noticed the mass (tumor) years ago but didn't tell her doctor because it wasn't bothering her. Now it's too big to remove with surgery. She's electing not to do chemo or radiation because of her heart condition. I know my grandma won't live forever, but the thought of her being that sick breaks my heart. She is the glue that holds the family together. I look forward to seeing her at Christmas, but I imagine it just won't be the same. Needless to say it's been a very hard Advent. God, I'm standing here in my darkness. Light of Christ, please come. Dear prayer buddy, this is all offered up for you.
"That is why daring to talk to God out of the trial of our darkness, as Job did, is a part of the Christian life. It is not part of that life for us to suppose that we can present only half of our existence to God and have to spare him the rest because we might annoy him. No, it is precisely to him that we can and we must bring, in complete honesty, the whole burden of our life. We are rather too inclined to forget that in the Book of Job, handed down to us in Holy Scripture, at the end of the drama God declares Job to be righteous–Job, who has hurled the most outrageous accusations at God–while he rejects Job’s friends as speakers of falsehood, those friends who had defended God and had found some kind of good sense and answer for everything.
Observing Advent simply means talking with God the way Job did. It means just seeing the whole reality and burden of our Christian life without fear and bringing it before the face of God, as judge and savior, even if, like Job, we have no answer to give about it all, and the only thing left is to leave it to God himself to answer and to tell him how we are standing here in our darkness with no answers."
~from What It Means to Be a Christian by Joseph Ratzinger
To me this describes life with infertility quite well, not just during Advent. I feel like my whole journey with IF has been learning how to show God all the ugly sides that I wish weren't there. But I can see that it's especially relevant during Advent because while the Church is telling me to rejoice and prepare for the Lord's coming and have hope, I'm looking at my life wondering if I'm just supposed to ignore all the suffering in my life, at least until after Christmas, so as not to put a damper on the season. So I really appreciate what the pope said above about not having to ignore the burdens we're facing in order to observe Advent. Our priest on Sunday reminded us that our reason for rejoicing (especially on Gaudete Sunday) is not based on what's going on in our lives as tempting as that is (e.g. my world is falling apart so I don't feel like rejoicing); it's based totally on Christ, and it doesn't matter if we "feel" like rejoicing or not.
In some ways I do feel like Job--the part about telling God that I'm standing here in my darkness without answers, not the part about hurling outrageous accusations (I have questions, maybe, but not accusations). I thought infertility and a cycle that seems to be getting worse rather than better was plenty cross for me, but then DH's job loss happened. It made IF alone look a lot better; at least it's a familiar cross. Then a few days later my favorite and only living grandparent went into the hospital because she was tired. Grandma left with a heart diagnosis (estimated up to two years left) and cancer. She noticed the mass (tumor) years ago but didn't tell her doctor because it wasn't bothering her. Now it's too big to remove with surgery. She's electing not to do chemo or radiation because of her heart condition. I know my grandma won't live forever, but the thought of her being that sick breaks my heart. She is the glue that holds the family together. I look forward to seeing her at Christmas, but I imagine it just won't be the same. Needless to say it's been a very hard Advent. God, I'm standing here in my darkness. Light of Christ, please come. Dear prayer buddy, this is all offered up for you.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
What happens when you forget HCG
This:
Over Thanksgiving I forgot to bring my HCG along. I was gone during the days of my cycle when I usually take HCG. PMS ensued. Add in Thanksgiving traffic that moved at a glacial pace and me driving. It was not pretty. DH tried to defuse my mood. It didn't work. Poor DH. I definitely helped with his sanctification that day.
HCG will be the first thing I pack for Christmas vacation. :)
| I saw this on the back of a car driving around town one day. |
Over Thanksgiving I forgot to bring my HCG along. I was gone during the days of my cycle when I usually take HCG. PMS ensued. Add in Thanksgiving traffic that moved at a glacial pace and me driving. It was not pretty. DH tried to defuse my mood. It didn't work. Poor DH. I definitely helped with his sanctification that day.
HCG will be the first thing I pack for Christmas vacation. :)
Labels:
PMS
Friday, December 7, 2012
Some words of encouragement
You know how sometimes you come across some words of Scripture that you think God meant specifically for you on that particular day in that minute? That's how I felt when I heard this passage the other day. It's all of chapter 2 of Sirach. I think it's pretty fitting for Advent too.
When I first read this chapter, I thought it applies to IF quite well. I just found out today we are facing a new trial: DH lost his job. His employer is facing severe budget cuts and has no money left to pay him after this month. We knew his job was ending, but it wasn't supposed to happen until late next summer. He has been looking for a new job, but if he finds one it won't start until summer. If you could spare a prayer for us, we would very much appreciate it.
Sirach 2
1 My child, when you come to serve the Lord, prepare yourself for trials.
2 Be sincere of heart and steadfast, and do not be impetuous in time of adversity.
3 Cling to him, do not leave him, that you may prosper in your last days.
4 Accept whatever happens to you; in periods of humiliation be patient.
5 For in fire gold is tested, and the chosen, in the crucible of humiliation.
6 Trust in God, and he will help you; make your ways straight and hope in him.
7 You that fear the Lord, wait for his mercy, do not stray lest you fall.
8 You that fear the Lord, trust in him, and your reward will not be lost.
9 You that fear the Lord, hope for good things, for lasting joy and mercy.
10 Consider the generations long past and see: has anyone trusted in the Lord and been disappointed? Has anyone persevered in his fear and been forsaken? Has anyone called upon him and been ignored?
11 For the Lord is compassionate and merciful; forgives sins and saves in time of trouble.
12 Woe to timid hearts and drooping hands, to the sinner who walks a double path!
13 Woe to the faint of heart! For they do not trust, and therefore have no shelter!
14 Woe to you that have lost hope! What will you do at the Lord’s visitation?
15 Those who fear the Lord do not disobey his words; those who love him keep his ways.
16 Those who fear the Lord seek to please him; those who love him are filled with his law.
17 Those who fear the Lord prepare their hearts and humble themselves before him.
18 Let us fall into the hands of the Lord and not into the hands of mortals, for equal to his majesty is his mercy; and equal to his name are his works.
When I first read this chapter, I thought it applies to IF quite well. I just found out today we are facing a new trial: DH lost his job. His employer is facing severe budget cuts and has no money left to pay him after this month. We knew his job was ending, but it wasn't supposed to happen until late next summer. He has been looking for a new job, but if he finds one it won't start until summer. If you could spare a prayer for us, we would very much appreciate it.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
The state of things
It's been a while since I posted. To be honest, I just haven't been motivated to write anything. When I'm sad, my tendency is not to post anything, as opposed to writing a sad post. I feel like I've entered a deeper phase of grief in the past few months. When the pain of sadness comes, it seems more intense than it used to be. It was probably exacerbated by the non-stop stream of pregnancy and birth announcements around me. (If one in eight couples has trouble conceiving, there must be tons of other IF couples out there somewhere, because among my acquaintances the fertile couples are heavily overrepresented.) It can seem really isolating to watch other couples who only know joy when it comes to getting pregnant while I'm sitting here with a tears in my eyes and a broken heart. But even though it seems that the sadness is worse, there are getting to be more times of acceptance, usually when I'm not sad, where I think that we'll be okay--well, more than okay--if we remain infertile. I had prayed for patience in this area a while ago (a dangerous prayer, I know), and I think I'm gradually seeing some good results. I just wish it would happen faster. hahaha
Here are some medical updates...
1. In my last post I wrote about how my TEBB disappeared for one cycle after the IV antibiotics and then returned. There was a bit of an improvement though--before the IV, I had around eight days of TEBB each cycle; after the IV, I was down to four days of TEBB. It's small, but it's something, right? ;) That lasted three cycles, so I figured it was my new pattern. Then this past cycle was a mess. There were six days of TEBB followed by four more days of brown bleeding midcycle. I haven't had that kind of midcycle spotting in a couple years. I don't know what caused it. I hope it doesn't happen again this cycle.
2. I had thyroid labs done because it had been a year since the last time it was checked. I found out my T4 is super low, so now I'm taking levothyroxine (Synthroid). I guess that makes me officially hypothyroid now...? (In the past only my T3 to reverse T3 ratio was low. Now that ratio is normal.) I'm up to six prescription medications... :P Is it bad that the pharmacist knows both DH and me by sight so he doesn't have to ask for our name? I must spend too much time at the pharmacy.
3. This cycle my Clomid dose increased to 50 mg on days 3-5. My P+7 levels have been borderline a few times, and my estrogen was low two cycles in a row. With the low T4 and now low estrogen, it seems my body is falling apart. What's next?
4. I've been having pain during my periods since the summer, so Dr. K is recommending that I have a second laparoscopy to see if my endo is back. I had been completely pain free after my first laparoscopy (February 2011), so the pain returning wasn't a good sign. It's not severe pain, so I can still go about my day, but it's enough that I would prefer to lie on the couch with a heating pad.
For the surgery, I had a choice between going to Dr. K in Omaha or going to a different surgeon (Dr. E) who was trained at PPVI and is only a few hours away from here. DH and I originally decided to go to the closer surgeon because of convenience and less expensive travel costs. I had an initial appointment with Dr. E recently, but it looks like it'll be a really long wait before the surgery would take place. I haven't spoken with the scheduler at PPVI, but now I think we're leaning toward going to Omaha. Hopefully we'll have a date soon.
Here are some medical updates...
1. In my last post I wrote about how my TEBB disappeared for one cycle after the IV antibiotics and then returned. There was a bit of an improvement though--before the IV, I had around eight days of TEBB each cycle; after the IV, I was down to four days of TEBB. It's small, but it's something, right? ;) That lasted three cycles, so I figured it was my new pattern. Then this past cycle was a mess. There were six days of TEBB followed by four more days of brown bleeding midcycle. I haven't had that kind of midcycle spotting in a couple years. I don't know what caused it. I hope it doesn't happen again this cycle.
2. I had thyroid labs done because it had been a year since the last time it was checked. I found out my T4 is super low, so now I'm taking levothyroxine (Synthroid). I guess that makes me officially hypothyroid now...? (In the past only my T3 to reverse T3 ratio was low. Now that ratio is normal.) I'm up to six prescription medications... :P Is it bad that the pharmacist knows both DH and me by sight so he doesn't have to ask for our name? I must spend too much time at the pharmacy.
3. This cycle my Clomid dose increased to 50 mg on days 3-5. My P+7 levels have been borderline a few times, and my estrogen was low two cycles in a row. With the low T4 and now low estrogen, it seems my body is falling apart. What's next?
4. I've been having pain during my periods since the summer, so Dr. K is recommending that I have a second laparoscopy to see if my endo is back. I had been completely pain free after my first laparoscopy (February 2011), so the pain returning wasn't a good sign. It's not severe pain, so I can still go about my day, but it's enough that I would prefer to lie on the couch with a heating pad.
For the surgery, I had a choice between going to Dr. K in Omaha or going to a different surgeon (Dr. E) who was trained at PPVI and is only a few hours away from here. DH and I originally decided to go to the closer surgeon because of convenience and less expensive travel costs. I had an initial appointment with Dr. E recently, but it looks like it'll be a really long wait before the surgery would take place. I haven't spoken with the scheduler at PPVI, but now I think we're leaning toward going to Omaha. Hopefully we'll have a date soon.
Labels:
my diagnosis
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Two steps forward, one step back
I'm trying to look on the bright side here. In my heart, it feels like I've taken one step forward, and two steps back.
The forward progress was the elimination of my TEBB after the ten days of IV antibiotics. Yay!
I was TEBB-free for one cycle.
The TEBB returned the following cycle. Argh!
My first reaction was major disappointment. I'd say it was worse than how I felt when CD1 arrived. The IV was neither easy nor inexpensive. Was all of that effort, inconvenience, and money wasted? It's not like I could just have another one to make the TEBB go away again. What if this new/returned infection is now resistant to the antibiotic? And the big question in my mind...if DH had been treated simultaneously with an IV, would the TEBB have still returned?
But then I realized something. The fact that the IV eliminated the TEBB for one cycle gives us answers.
1. My TEBB is infection related. This was assumed to be the case before the IV since we exhausted the other five known causes of TEBB with other treatments; the IV simply confirmed that infection was indeed the cause.
2. My TEBB can be treated. This is good news. It took me several days to realize that this was good news because of the disappointment and sadness I was feeling, but better late than never.
When I did my cycle review at the end of the TEBB-free cycle, I received a response from Dr. K a couple days before the TEBB returned. (She said to continue with all the same meds, as expected. We were giving it three cycles post-IV before considering another surgery.) A week later, a nurse from PPVI called me unscheduled. (There had been a mix up with my local lab for my P+7 blood draw from the previous cycle, and we were trying to figure out what happened to my blood.) At the end of the call, I mentioned to her that my TEBB was back. I figured that she'd write it in my chart, and Dr. K would address it during the next cycle review.
I expected that Dr. K would say that she couldn't offer me any more treatments for TEBB and that I should look into visiting Dr. Toth in NYC for a complete diagnosis of the bug(s) involved and appropriate treatment. I know other bloggers have gone to see Dr. Toth, so I am aware of what it entails for both the wife and the husband. I have explained it to DH several times this year, knowing that Dr. K might recommend it to us at any time, so that he wouldn't be completely blindsided by the idea. There just is no way of sugar-coating the prospect of prostate injections. Or both of us spending 10 days in NYC for the treatment. (Logistically that would be very hard for him to do, but I think we could figure out a way to make it work.) At this point, DH is not open to the idea of going because of the prostate injection part.
Knowing this, I wasn't looking forward to hearing back from Dr. K. Surprisingly, she didn't wait until the next cycle review, and she didn't suggest Dr. Toth (yet). A nurse called me back the next day with the following recommendation:
-vitamin C - 1 gram twice a day on days 1-10
-bioflavonoids - 1000 mg three times a day
-B-complex - 100 mg a day
She said it's one of their TEBB protocols; the idea is to boost immune function. I had never heard of this combination being used for TEBB. I didn't ask how well this protocol worked for others or how long it takes to have an effect on the TEBB if it's going to work, so we'll see what happens. I've been taking the bioflavonoids and B-complex vitamins for a couple weeks now, and I'll start the vitamin C soon when CD1 arrives.
The forward progress was the elimination of my TEBB after the ten days of IV antibiotics. Yay!
I was TEBB-free for one cycle.
The TEBB returned the following cycle. Argh!
My first reaction was major disappointment. I'd say it was worse than how I felt when CD1 arrived. The IV was neither easy nor inexpensive. Was all of that effort, inconvenience, and money wasted? It's not like I could just have another one to make the TEBB go away again. What if this new/returned infection is now resistant to the antibiotic? And the big question in my mind...if DH had been treated simultaneously with an IV, would the TEBB have still returned?
But then I realized something. The fact that the IV eliminated the TEBB for one cycle gives us answers.
1. My TEBB is infection related. This was assumed to be the case before the IV since we exhausted the other five known causes of TEBB with other treatments; the IV simply confirmed that infection was indeed the cause.
2. My TEBB can be treated. This is good news. It took me several days to realize that this was good news because of the disappointment and sadness I was feeling, but better late than never.
When I did my cycle review at the end of the TEBB-free cycle, I received a response from Dr. K a couple days before the TEBB returned. (She said to continue with all the same meds, as expected. We were giving it three cycles post-IV before considering another surgery.) A week later, a nurse from PPVI called me unscheduled. (There had been a mix up with my local lab for my P+7 blood draw from the previous cycle, and we were trying to figure out what happened to my blood.) At the end of the call, I mentioned to her that my TEBB was back. I figured that she'd write it in my chart, and Dr. K would address it during the next cycle review.
I expected that Dr. K would say that she couldn't offer me any more treatments for TEBB and that I should look into visiting Dr. Toth in NYC for a complete diagnosis of the bug(s) involved and appropriate treatment. I know other bloggers have gone to see Dr. Toth, so I am aware of what it entails for both the wife and the husband. I have explained it to DH several times this year, knowing that Dr. K might recommend it to us at any time, so that he wouldn't be completely blindsided by the idea. There just is no way of sugar-coating the prospect of prostate injections. Or both of us spending 10 days in NYC for the treatment. (Logistically that would be very hard for him to do, but I think we could figure out a way to make it work.) At this point, DH is not open to the idea of going because of the prostate injection part.
Knowing this, I wasn't looking forward to hearing back from Dr. K. Surprisingly, she didn't wait until the next cycle review, and she didn't suggest Dr. Toth (yet). A nurse called me back the next day with the following recommendation:
-vitamin C - 1 gram twice a day on days 1-10
-bioflavonoids - 1000 mg three times a day
-B-complex - 100 mg a day
She said it's one of their TEBB protocols; the idea is to boost immune function. I had never heard of this combination being used for TEBB. I didn't ask how well this protocol worked for others or how long it takes to have an effect on the TEBB if it's going to work, so we'll see what happens. I've been taking the bioflavonoids and B-complex vitamins for a couple weeks now, and I'll start the vitamin C soon when CD1 arrives.
Labels:
my diagnosis,
NaPro,
treatment
Sunday, July 15, 2012
My TEBB is...
GONE.
(picture me screaming here)
The IV antibiotics worked. I am stunned. And excited. Like jumping-up-and-down excited. This cycle might be the first realistic shot of getting a BFP that we've ever had. Except that I think my endo might have returned, but that's another story.
I talked to Dr. K. She said we'll give it three cycles. If we're not pregnant by then, a laparoscopy—my second one—is likely up next. I figured that would be the case. I'm okay with that.
But for now, I am hopeful. Like through-the-roof hopeful. :)
I have so much to write about and no time to do it in the near future as DH and I take a little vacation, but I couldn't wait to share this news.
(picture me screaming here)
The IV antibiotics worked. I am stunned. And excited. Like jumping-up-and-down excited. This cycle might be the first realistic shot of getting a BFP that we've ever had. Except that I think my endo might have returned, but that's another story.
I talked to Dr. K. She said we'll give it three cycles. If we're not pregnant by then, a laparoscopy—my second one—is likely up next. I figured that would be the case. I'm okay with that.
But for now, I am hopeful. Like through-the-roof hopeful. :)
I have so much to write about and no time to do it in the near future as DH and I take a little vacation, but I couldn't wait to share this news.
Labels:
treatment
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Three years of TTC
We are on cycle #30 of TTC. It's been three years since we started. That's a lot of TTC. And a lot of BFNs.
In some ways, IF has become comfortable—not enjoyable, mind you. I know what to expect. I know when I'll be extra sad or sensitive. I know when I can handle baby-related news with the greatest likelihood of having dry eyes. But I'm weary. Living with prolonged grief is emotionally draining. This third year of TTC has been noticeably harder than the prior year, probably because we've checked more and more things off the treatment list that haven't worked. I can see some good fruits that have come from this suffering. I know it has brought DH and me closer. I can sympathize better with others going through IF (like some of my clients) or anyone facing a difficult cross. As painful as IF can be, I trust that God will bring a greater good out of all of this. I may not know what that good is this side of heaven, but I know there is value and power in offering up this suffering. Without taking a more "eternal" perspective, I think it would be so easy to fall quickly into despair.
A good friend shared her BFP news with me recently. She was technically IF (according to NaPro's definition of six cycles) but never mentally crossed over...she hadn't been TTC "that long." She knew of our IF from the beginning and was supportive, offering frequent prayers for us. I tried to be happy for her, and in some sense I was. I am glad she doesn't have to delve deeply into the sad world of IF—either the emotional side or the medical treatment side. But when she told me the news my first feelings were ones of hurt. She waited until nearly the end of her first trimester to tell me. Why did she wait so long? I had spoken with her more than once since she would have learned she was pregnant and specifically asked about the latest in her TTC attempts each time I spoke with her. I guess I could see not wanting to tell "people" (in a general sense) until after the first trimester in case there would be a miscarriage, but I thought I was closer to her than that. I wonder if this self-pity is a by-product of IF. In my head I sometimes think others should feel sorry for me because I'm IF, so I also feel sorry for me. Now here's another opportunity to feel sorry for myself. I'm trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. I have no idea what's it like to decide when to share news of a first pregnancy. I guess if it were me, I'd want prayers from at least a few others as soon as I found out...especially with an increased risk of miscarriage (which she has). Maybe she was trying to protect my feelings by waiting to tell me...although the manner in which she shared the news with me was not sensitive to an IFer, so I doubt protecting my feelings was the reason. If you're super excited by your pregnancy, that means everyone you tell is going to be super excited as well...including your IF-for-three-years friend. (I did manage a fair amount of excitement in my response.) Apparently I never shared with her how hard pregnancy announcements are...or I didn't repeat it enough times before she got pregnant.
With her pregnancy announcement, it really hit me how left behind I feel. Just since last summer, there have been six weddings among our friends. Five of those six are pregnant or recently gave birth. We were TTC before most of them even started dating. I try not to be jealous, but sometimes I can't help it. IF is so hard.
As for this cycle, against my better judgement, I have hope. ;) (although I completely forgot to take Clomid at the beginning of the cycle...oops) I used to think that the more hopeful I was in the 2WW, the worse I'd feel when CD1 arrived. I guess for the most part, it has been true. But last cycle, for whatever reason, I had very little hope that the cycle would end in a BFP—with a week of TEBB staring me in the face, clearly something is still wrong—so AF arriving wasn't a surprise at all...yet I still felt as sad (and cried as much) as any other previous cycle. So if I'm going to cry when CD1 arrives regardless of my hope level, I might as well be hopeful now.
Do I know if the IV antibiotics got rid of my TEBB? No.
Am I putting way too much stock in quasi-pregnancy symptoms? Yes.
I have no breast tenderness at all. This is a change from usual. I always have a little bit of tenderness post-peak. Well, I'm pretty sure I always have it. I stopped writing it down a long time ago. But I still pay attention even if it's not recorded on paper. This could be just my brain trying to over-analyze things in an attempt to convince myself I could be pregnant. It has happened plenty of times before, and I've been wrong every time. haha Hopefully all the fun 4th of July festivities will distract me. :)
In some ways, IF has become comfortable—not enjoyable, mind you. I know what to expect. I know when I'll be extra sad or sensitive. I know when I can handle baby-related news with the greatest likelihood of having dry eyes. But I'm weary. Living with prolonged grief is emotionally draining. This third year of TTC has been noticeably harder than the prior year, probably because we've checked more and more things off the treatment list that haven't worked. I can see some good fruits that have come from this suffering. I know it has brought DH and me closer. I can sympathize better with others going through IF (like some of my clients) or anyone facing a difficult cross. As painful as IF can be, I trust that God will bring a greater good out of all of this. I may not know what that good is this side of heaven, but I know there is value and power in offering up this suffering. Without taking a more "eternal" perspective, I think it would be so easy to fall quickly into despair.
A good friend shared her BFP news with me recently. She was technically IF (according to NaPro's definition of six cycles) but never mentally crossed over...she hadn't been TTC "that long." She knew of our IF from the beginning and was supportive, offering frequent prayers for us. I tried to be happy for her, and in some sense I was. I am glad she doesn't have to delve deeply into the sad world of IF—either the emotional side or the medical treatment side. But when she told me the news my first feelings were ones of hurt. She waited until nearly the end of her first trimester to tell me. Why did she wait so long? I had spoken with her more than once since she would have learned she was pregnant and specifically asked about the latest in her TTC attempts each time I spoke with her. I guess I could see not wanting to tell "people" (in a general sense) until after the first trimester in case there would be a miscarriage, but I thought I was closer to her than that. I wonder if this self-pity is a by-product of IF. In my head I sometimes think others should feel sorry for me because I'm IF, so I also feel sorry for me. Now here's another opportunity to feel sorry for myself. I'm trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. I have no idea what's it like to decide when to share news of a first pregnancy. I guess if it were me, I'd want prayers from at least a few others as soon as I found out...especially with an increased risk of miscarriage (which she has). Maybe she was trying to protect my feelings by waiting to tell me...although the manner in which she shared the news with me was not sensitive to an IFer, so I doubt protecting my feelings was the reason. If you're super excited by your pregnancy, that means everyone you tell is going to be super excited as well...including your IF-for-three-years friend. (I did manage a fair amount of excitement in my response.) Apparently I never shared with her how hard pregnancy announcements are...or I didn't repeat it enough times before she got pregnant.
With her pregnancy announcement, it really hit me how left behind I feel. Just since last summer, there have been six weddings among our friends. Five of those six are pregnant or recently gave birth. We were TTC before most of them even started dating. I try not to be jealous, but sometimes I can't help it. IF is so hard.
As for this cycle, against my better judgement, I have hope. ;) (although I completely forgot to take Clomid at the beginning of the cycle...oops) I used to think that the more hopeful I was in the 2WW, the worse I'd feel when CD1 arrived. I guess for the most part, it has been true. But last cycle, for whatever reason, I had very little hope that the cycle would end in a BFP—with a week of TEBB staring me in the face, clearly something is still wrong—so AF arriving wasn't a surprise at all...yet I still felt as sad (and cried as much) as any other previous cycle. So if I'm going to cry when CD1 arrives regardless of my hope level, I might as well be hopeful now.
Do I know if the IV antibiotics got rid of my TEBB? No.
Am I putting way too much stock in quasi-pregnancy symptoms? Yes.
I have no breast tenderness at all. This is a change from usual. I always have a little bit of tenderness post-peak. Well, I'm pretty sure I always have it. I stopped writing it down a long time ago. But I still pay attention even if it's not recorded on paper. This could be just my brain trying to over-analyze things in an attempt to convince myself I could be pregnant. It has happened plenty of times before, and I've been wrong every time. haha Hopefully all the fun 4th of July festivities will distract me. :)
Monday, June 25, 2012
I'm free!
The PICC line has been removed! Yay! Free at last! :)
I didn't feel a thing as the nurse removed it. The "worst" part was actually when she was removing the tape that held everything in place, but that wasn't too bad.
I still have to wait another day before I can shower so the hole in my arm closes up. I don't often look forward to showers this much, but I can't wait!
Now we wait and see what happens. I'm mid-cycle now, so it'll be several weeks before we'll know if the antibiotics eliminated my TEBB. Of course, if AF doesn't come, that would be fine with me, too. :)
To be honest, I am scared. I am scared to hope. I am more scared of the disappointment if this doesn't work. I am scared that Dr. K could say there's nothing more she can do against the TEBB. I keep telling myself that I just have to trust God on this for whatever happens, but it's so much easier said than done. I may have to keep reminding myself every five minutes, "Jesus, I trust in you."
I didn't feel a thing as the nurse removed it. The "worst" part was actually when she was removing the tape that held everything in place, but that wasn't too bad.
I still have to wait another day before I can shower so the hole in my arm closes up. I don't often look forward to showers this much, but I can't wait!
Now we wait and see what happens. I'm mid-cycle now, so it'll be several weeks before we'll know if the antibiotics eliminated my TEBB. Of course, if AF doesn't come, that would be fine with me, too. :)
To be honest, I am scared. I am scared to hope. I am more scared of the disappointment if this doesn't work. I am scared that Dr. K could say there's nothing more she can do against the TEBB. I keep telling myself that I just have to trust God on this for whatever happens, but it's so much easier said than done. I may have to keep reminding myself every five minutes, "Jesus, I trust in you."
Labels:
treatment
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Life attached to a bag
It’s not so bad, really. Most of the time I don’t feel anything. Sometimes if I move my arm too quickly I feel pain in my shoulder or arm, but it’s brief. My main concern is keeping track of the long tubing that connects me to the medicine pump so I don’t catch it on anything when I’m moving around.
The PICC line procedure on Friday went pretty well. My definition of “pretty well” is that I remained conscious the whole time and it wasn’t horribly painful. I did, however, nearly faint during the pre-procedure blood draw where they needed five tubes of my blood. One of the labs was a pregnancy test—my second ever—and like last time (before my laparoscopy) it was completely unnecessary; one look at my CrMS chart which would show a zero percent chance of pregnancy...but of course no one would trust that. I digress. I thought I was over my fear of needles. I guess I'm not. You'd think that after all the blood work I've had done in the last couple years that I would be used to it by now. I've been having monthly draws for P+7 labs for about the last year without a problem. The fact that I hadn’t eaten anything Friday morning as instructed was probably a factor in my lightheadedness. Fortunately I was only lightheaded briefly and didn’t pass out completely; if I had fainted, I would’ve had to have gone to the ER, and they would have cancelled the procedure. I like to think I have a pretty awesome guardian angel watching over me. :) And I appreciate the prayers from all of you.
The nurse who placed my PICC line was very nice. He said he does PICC lines all day every day, which was reassuring. When I mentioned to him that I nearly fainted during the blood draw earlier, he asked if I had eaten anything, to which I replied that I was told not to so I didn't. He got upset (at the person who gave me that direction) because the nothing-by-mouth order is not necessary at all for PICC line placements. He promised to make sure I would stay conscious for the whole procedure. :) I asked if he would use my left arm since I spend lots of time on the computer and wanted my mouse-using arm uninhibited, but he reminded me that the anatomy on the right side gives him a straight, short route to the heart; the left side can be more challenging for him because it’s not so straight or short. I was immediately convinced that the right side was the way to go. ;)
First, he did an ultrasound of my upper arm to see the vein. Then he injected anesthetic so I didn't feel anything painful during the rest of the procedure aside from a strange, uncomfortable sensation that there was something deep in my arm and shoulder. (He was guiding a catheter through my arm vein so it reached my heart…superior vena cava if you want to be exact.) The actual procedure part took five minutes. I couldn't see anything he was doing—not that I wanted to look—because he had draped my arm area with a bunch of blue fabric-like paper which created a little wall blocking my view. He did another ultrasound at the end. Then I went for a chest x-ray to make sure the tip of the catheter he had inserted was in the correct place. Finally they did a test infusion of the antibiotic for a half hour to make sure I didn't have a bad reaction to it. Meanwhile they served both DH and me breakfast. The meal looked like something you'd get at a restaurant, not typical hospital food. At that point, DH declared that he was glad that he came along. He likes to be fed. :)
Three and a half hours after arrival, I left the hospital with the two “ports” (aka lumens) taped to my upper arm and covered by a cloth band that looks like a white gym sock. I was not hooked up to any medicine at that point.
The home health nurse came later to start the antibiotic and teach me what to do. Each bag of antibiotic lasts for one day (it's infused continuously over 24 hours), and then I need to change the bag. When I attach a new bag I also need to flush one port with a syringe full of saline and the other port with heparin. The second port is there in case they need to draw any labs. The heparin keeps that port from clotting up while it's not in use. I don't really feel anything when I do the flushing part. I don't see anything except the ports; there is a bandage over my skin where they are attached. The nurse will come back sometime this week to change the dressing. I'm glad I don't have to do that. :)
In my attempts to conceal this whole arrangement from other people’s attention, I discovered that a shirt and a cardigan together are sufficient to hide the bulge that the ports create on my upper arm. The tube running from my arm to the infusion pump is long (about 5 feet). I am able to hide it under my shirt by running it up my sleeve and having it come out by my waist. The pump and bag of antibiotics are both kept in a pouch with a shoulder strap, which looks like a large camera bag. I have dubbed it the ugly purse.
There is no way I can hide it under my shirt. If I took the pump and antibiotic bag out of the pouch, I could possibly hide them if I strapped them to my abdomen and wore a bulky sweatshirt, but that’s not my typical attire when I go out in public. I might try that if the pump had a belt clip on it, but it doesn’t. For Mass and for running errands, I put the pump and antibiotics in my regular purse so no one would notice anything out of the ordinary (except for about an inch of clear tubing which I tried to cover with my hand). I’m sure I looked a bit strange with my purse on my shoulder during all of Mass, but no one questioned me about it. ;)
Daily activities take a bit longer to do when you’re attached to a bag all the time. Getting dressed is challenging because essentially my arm is now 5 feet longer than usual. My arm’s range of motion isn’t quite as good as normal, but it has improved since Friday when certain movements caused shoulder pain. When the phone rings, I can’t just jump up and get it; I have to gather all my tubing together with the bag to make sure I don’t snag it on something. Bathing takes a lot longer because it was drilled into me by several nurses that I cannot get the PICC line wet for fear of infection. One nurse said I could wrap my arm in plastic wrap before showering; another said no showering at all. Since it’s just for ten days, I’m avoiding the shower and using a sponge or washcloth. I wash my hair in the sink. At night the bag sits on the stand right next to my pillow so there is plenty of slack in the tubing in case I roll around while I’m sleeping. I’ve stopped sleeping on my right side because the ports dig into my arm if I lie in that position.
So far I haven’t had any bad reactions to the medicine or to the PICC line itself, aside from occasional itchiness where the tape is.
I'm glad this is only for ten days. I’ve been thinking a lot about people who need to have PICC lines in place for months at a time. I’m not sure everyone needs to be attached to their medicine 24 hours a day like I do (they may just have brief infusion periods and then can be “free” of the tubing and bag for most of the day) but it definitely has made me more sympathetic.
Less than a week to go! I’m counting down the days…
The PICC line procedure on Friday went pretty well. My definition of “pretty well” is that I remained conscious the whole time and it wasn’t horribly painful. I did, however, nearly faint during the pre-procedure blood draw where they needed five tubes of my blood. One of the labs was a pregnancy test—my second ever—and like last time (before my laparoscopy) it was completely unnecessary; one look at my CrMS chart which would show a zero percent chance of pregnancy...but of course no one would trust that. I digress. I thought I was over my fear of needles. I guess I'm not. You'd think that after all the blood work I've had done in the last couple years that I would be used to it by now. I've been having monthly draws for P+7 labs for about the last year without a problem. The fact that I hadn’t eaten anything Friday morning as instructed was probably a factor in my lightheadedness. Fortunately I was only lightheaded briefly and didn’t pass out completely; if I had fainted, I would’ve had to have gone to the ER, and they would have cancelled the procedure. I like to think I have a pretty awesome guardian angel watching over me. :) And I appreciate the prayers from all of you.
The nurse who placed my PICC line was very nice. He said he does PICC lines all day every day, which was reassuring. When I mentioned to him that I nearly fainted during the blood draw earlier, he asked if I had eaten anything, to which I replied that I was told not to so I didn't. He got upset (at the person who gave me that direction) because the nothing-by-mouth order is not necessary at all for PICC line placements. He promised to make sure I would stay conscious for the whole procedure. :) I asked if he would use my left arm since I spend lots of time on the computer and wanted my mouse-using arm uninhibited, but he reminded me that the anatomy on the right side gives him a straight, short route to the heart; the left side can be more challenging for him because it’s not so straight or short. I was immediately convinced that the right side was the way to go. ;)
First, he did an ultrasound of my upper arm to see the vein. Then he injected anesthetic so I didn't feel anything painful during the rest of the procedure aside from a strange, uncomfortable sensation that there was something deep in my arm and shoulder. (He was guiding a catheter through my arm vein so it reached my heart…superior vena cava if you want to be exact.) The actual procedure part took five minutes. I couldn't see anything he was doing—not that I wanted to look—because he had draped my arm area with a bunch of blue fabric-like paper which created a little wall blocking my view. He did another ultrasound at the end. Then I went for a chest x-ray to make sure the tip of the catheter he had inserted was in the correct place. Finally they did a test infusion of the antibiotic for a half hour to make sure I didn't have a bad reaction to it. Meanwhile they served both DH and me breakfast. The meal looked like something you'd get at a restaurant, not typical hospital food. At that point, DH declared that he was glad that he came along. He likes to be fed. :)
Three and a half hours after arrival, I left the hospital with the two “ports” (aka lumens) taped to my upper arm and covered by a cloth band that looks like a white gym sock. I was not hooked up to any medicine at that point.
![]() |
| My arm with the two ports |
The home health nurse came later to start the antibiotic and teach me what to do. Each bag of antibiotic lasts for one day (it's infused continuously over 24 hours), and then I need to change the bag. When I attach a new bag I also need to flush one port with a syringe full of saline and the other port with heparin. The second port is there in case they need to draw any labs. The heparin keeps that port from clotting up while it's not in use. I don't really feel anything when I do the flushing part. I don't see anything except the ports; there is a bandage over my skin where they are attached. The nurse will come back sometime this week to change the dressing. I'm glad I don't have to do that. :)
![]() |
| The pump, medicine, and other supplies |
In my attempts to conceal this whole arrangement from other people’s attention, I discovered that a shirt and a cardigan together are sufficient to hide the bulge that the ports create on my upper arm. The tube running from my arm to the infusion pump is long (about 5 feet). I am able to hide it under my shirt by running it up my sleeve and having it come out by my waist. The pump and bag of antibiotics are both kept in a pouch with a shoulder strap, which looks like a large camera bag. I have dubbed it the ugly purse.
![]() |
| The ugly purse (with a 8.5"x11" piece of paper behind it) |
Daily activities take a bit longer to do when you’re attached to a bag all the time. Getting dressed is challenging because essentially my arm is now 5 feet longer than usual. My arm’s range of motion isn’t quite as good as normal, but it has improved since Friday when certain movements caused shoulder pain. When the phone rings, I can’t just jump up and get it; I have to gather all my tubing together with the bag to make sure I don’t snag it on something. Bathing takes a lot longer because it was drilled into me by several nurses that I cannot get the PICC line wet for fear of infection. One nurse said I could wrap my arm in plastic wrap before showering; another said no showering at all. Since it’s just for ten days, I’m avoiding the shower and using a sponge or washcloth. I wash my hair in the sink. At night the bag sits on the stand right next to my pillow so there is plenty of slack in the tubing in case I roll around while I’m sleeping. I’ve stopped sleeping on my right side because the ports dig into my arm if I lie in that position.
So far I haven’t had any bad reactions to the medicine or to the PICC line itself, aside from occasional itchiness where the tape is.
I'm glad this is only for ten days. I’ve been thinking a lot about people who need to have PICC lines in place for months at a time. I’m not sure everyone needs to be attached to their medicine 24 hours a day like I do (they may just have brief infusion periods and then can be “free” of the tubing and bag for most of the day) but it definitely has made me more sympathetic.
Less than a week to go! I’m counting down the days…
Labels:
treatment
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Attempt #10 to get rid of TEBB
Tomorrow I start ten days of IV antibiotics to hopefully eliminate my TEBB. I really, really hope this works.
It turned out to be a lot easier than expected to arrange everything, aside from the 12 or so phone calls. At first I was told by one of the nurses at PPVI that most states require an in-state provider to prescribe IV antibiotics. However, when the nurse called in the order to the home health care agency, the fact that Dr. K is out-of-state wasn't an issue at all. That was a nice surprise.
So tomorrow morning at 6 am I will go to the hospital to have the PICC line placed. That was the not-so-nice surprise. I thought I was just going to have a regular old IV, but the medicine is irritating to the vein, so they use a catheter to go deeper into the vein so it's less irritating. (At least that's how I understood their explanation.) I'm a little nervous about the procedure. I can handle IVs okay, but this sounds way more invasive. And they said I'll be there for two hours. DH is coming along for moral support and to drive me home in case I pass out. :)
Tomorrow afternoon the home health nurse comes to my home to start the medicine and show me what I need to do. Once everything is hooked up, my first priority will be to try to figure out a way to cover it all up so it's as discreet as possible when going out in public. Vain? No, I'm not vain. ;)
I tried not to Google all of this too much so I wouldn't cause more anxiety. Who knows what I'm getting myself into...
It turned out to be a lot easier than expected to arrange everything, aside from the 12 or so phone calls. At first I was told by one of the nurses at PPVI that most states require an in-state provider to prescribe IV antibiotics. However, when the nurse called in the order to the home health care agency, the fact that Dr. K is out-of-state wasn't an issue at all. That was a nice surprise.
So tomorrow morning at 6 am I will go to the hospital to have the PICC line placed. That was the not-so-nice surprise. I thought I was just going to have a regular old IV, but the medicine is irritating to the vein, so they use a catheter to go deeper into the vein so it's less irritating. (At least that's how I understood their explanation.) I'm a little nervous about the procedure. I can handle IVs okay, but this sounds way more invasive. And they said I'll be there for two hours. DH is coming along for moral support and to drive me home in case I pass out. :)
Tomorrow afternoon the home health nurse comes to my home to start the medicine and show me what I need to do. Once everything is hooked up, my first priority will be to try to figure out a way to cover it all up so it's as discreet as possible when going out in public. Vain? No, I'm not vain. ;)
I tried not to Google all of this too much so I wouldn't cause more anxiety. Who knows what I'm getting myself into...
Labels:
treatment
Sunday, May 13, 2012
The IF t-shirts are back
Last year on this day I posted a bunch of ideas I had for IF-related t-shirts. I thought I'd do it again this year to lighten the mood and maybe even get you to smile. :)
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Wishing for greener pastures
When I interviewed for my current job, I remember my boss asking me the question, "Where do you see yourself in five years?" I immediately thought, "I hope to be a stay-at-home mom by then." Realizing that's not the best thing to say on a job interview, I answered with something more relevant for the situation. Now it's almost five years later. How I answered the question has since come true, even though I'd had other plans at the time. I truly remember thinking that this job would just be temporary until DH got established in his job and we had kids. I guess that could still be true but this "temporary" is lasting a lot longer than I anticipated... ;) My job is a good fit for me, I like what I do, and my boss is great. But in the end, it's just a job. It's challenging and has a positive impact on the world, but it doesn't fulfill me. I am content with it and also with being an FCP, but I would drop it all in a second to stay at home. (I'd even be a stay-at-home wife without kids...) I've felt for a long time a strong call to motherhood. I have what seems like an insatiable desire for children...lots of children. It started before we were married, and IF certainly hasn't diminished it. ;) I remember spending time with a family with five small children and wondered how could that ever be enough children... How could you not want to add #6, #7, #8, etc.? More kids meant more joyful faces and more souls for God. Of course parenting is hard work, but what could be more fulfilling than raising souls to get to heaven? Those were my plans. God seems to have other plans, at least so far.
So for the foreseeable future, my time is spent at my job...which was never in my mind supposed to be the be-all and end-all for me, but now becomes the main focus because what else is there? The temporary, back-up plan is now the front-and-center plan. The thought of spending the next five or more years at my job just doesn't sound all that appealing because my heart wishes it were elsewhere. It's not a question of finding a different job; I think the one I have is great, and it fits my skills well. (It also happens to provide very decent health insurance without which most of our IF treatments would not be possible.) It's just that in my heart no job can compete with motherhood. I know it doesn't help to always think the grass is greener somewhere else, especially when the chance to become a mother seems elusive right now, and there are no guarantees it will ever happen, but it's hard—so hard—to give up a dream or put it on the shelf for an unknown period of time. I know working on being more grateful for my job (and everything else good in my life, especially my marriage) would be a better focus for now. And maybe asking God what He wants for me today would be better than trying to look at things long term...
Beyond that, I probably need to reread the book Life Shouldn't Look Like This: Dealing with Disappointment in the Light of Faith by Dr. Gregory Popcak. He's a Catholic psychologist who does telephone counseling. I used to listen to his show on Catholic radio all the time. From what I remember from the book, he talks about how to deal with big disappointments in life. He gives brief examples from his clients, including a woman longing her whole life for motherhood, only to marry later in life and then learn she's IF. He doesn't expand on that particular scenario—though I remember wishing he wrote a whole chapter on what advice he gave her, especially knowing that he and his wife faced fertility problems in their own marriage (miscarriage and secondary infertility)—but the whole book is written to address any major situation like that. Other anecdotes he gives are a single person who longed to marry but never found a spouse, a woman whose husband died not long after their wedding, a man who feels stuck in a dead-end job but has to support his family, and someone whose spouse had an affair and left. The main advice he gives is that we have to pursue meaning, intimacy, and virtue in our lives no matter what crosses we face. The book goes into detail how to do that in order to find joy in any situation. I definitely recommend it. (I have no incentive for writing this! haha) Just thought I'd mention it if other IFers would find that kind of advice useful. Time to go pull out my copy from the bookshelf...
Note: It seems that the book I mentioned above is out of print, but there are used copies available. Dr. Popcak has a newer book that sounds very similar called The Life God Wants You to Have: Discovering the Divine Plan When Human Plans Fail. I haven't read that one, but it looks good.
So for the foreseeable future, my time is spent at my job...which was never in my mind supposed to be the be-all and end-all for me, but now becomes the main focus because what else is there? The temporary, back-up plan is now the front-and-center plan. The thought of spending the next five or more years at my job just doesn't sound all that appealing because my heart wishes it were elsewhere. It's not a question of finding a different job; I think the one I have is great, and it fits my skills well. (It also happens to provide very decent health insurance without which most of our IF treatments would not be possible.) It's just that in my heart no job can compete with motherhood. I know it doesn't help to always think the grass is greener somewhere else, especially when the chance to become a mother seems elusive right now, and there are no guarantees it will ever happen, but it's hard—so hard—to give up a dream or put it on the shelf for an unknown period of time. I know working on being more grateful for my job (and everything else good in my life, especially my marriage) would be a better focus for now. And maybe asking God what He wants for me today would be better than trying to look at things long term...
Beyond that, I probably need to reread the book Life Shouldn't Look Like This: Dealing with Disappointment in the Light of Faith by Dr. Gregory Popcak. He's a Catholic psychologist who does telephone counseling. I used to listen to his show on Catholic radio all the time. From what I remember from the book, he talks about how to deal with big disappointments in life. He gives brief examples from his clients, including a woman longing her whole life for motherhood, only to marry later in life and then learn she's IF. He doesn't expand on that particular scenario—though I remember wishing he wrote a whole chapter on what advice he gave her, especially knowing that he and his wife faced fertility problems in their own marriage (miscarriage and secondary infertility)—but the whole book is written to address any major situation like that. Other anecdotes he gives are a single person who longed to marry but never found a spouse, a woman whose husband died not long after their wedding, a man who feels stuck in a dead-end job but has to support his family, and someone whose spouse had an affair and left. The main advice he gives is that we have to pursue meaning, intimacy, and virtue in our lives no matter what crosses we face. The book goes into detail how to do that in order to find joy in any situation. I definitely recommend it. (I have no incentive for writing this! haha) Just thought I'd mention it if other IFers would find that kind of advice useful. Time to go pull out my copy from the bookshelf...
Note: It seems that the book I mentioned above is out of print, but there are used copies available. Dr. Popcak has a newer book that sounds very similar called The Life God Wants You to Have: Discovering the Divine Plan When Human Plans Fail. I haven't read that one, but it looks good.
Labels:
IF support
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Clomid notes
This is our second cycle with Clomid. I'm on a low dose: 25mg on CD3-5. It is definitely having an effect. My mucus this cycle was not quite as good as my normal non-Clomid cycles, but it still scored in the normal range. The big effect is on my hormone levels! For the past few cycles before Clomid, these were my P+7 results:
Estradiol 9.1 - 12.7 (normal is >12)
Progesterone 20.6 - 24.2 (normal is >13)
During my first Clomid cycle:
Estradiol 19.2
Progesterone 49.9
Wow. A little Clomid is doing big things. :)
I will admit I sorta thought I was pregnant last cycle. Oh, you post-peak symptoms that mimic early pregnancy symptoms, how you mess with my sanity. ;) I had some brief, localized abdominal pain on and off on P+8 and P+9, which I wondered if it could be implantation cramps. It was similar to Mittelschmerz. I've never had an ovarian cyst but I assumed that pain would have been worse and lasted longer. I was living in my daydream that I could be pregnant, so no one could have convinced me it was a cyst. ;) And I swear my breast tenderness was worse than previous cycles. You know how it is when you've convinced yourself you could be pregnant... Alas, it was not to be.
So while everything is looking good with my hormones, I still have that pesky TEBB. If I'm not pregnant this cycle, Dr. K is recommending 10 days of IV antibiotics (clindamycin). When I first heard this, I pictured myself attached to a pole for a week and a half. The nurse said I'd be attached to a box, not a pole, which sounds like the size of a shoe box but varies by manufacturer. (Anyone had IV antibiotics before?) A home health nurse would come to place the IV and teach me how to change the bag. It's likely that I will need to find a doctor in my state to prescribe this because most of the time they don't accept out-of-state prescriptions. There are a few NaPro medical consultants in my state, so I might have to schedule a visit with one to become an established patient. I'll probably have to call them first to make sure they are willing to prescribe IV antibiotics for TEBB before making the appointment; not all NaPro doctors are necessarily comfortable with this, even though they should be at least familiar with this particular PPVI protocol because it's been in place for a long time. The nurse said they tend to have good success with the IV antibiotic in eliminating TEBB, but I didn't ask her to quantify what "good" meant.
I did ask if it would be an option to take the antibiotic orally instead of via IV. She said too many people get C. diff infections after the oral antibiotic that they don't prescribe it that way. (C. difficile is a really bad infection...)
I asked if DH would be treated also (since an infection can be passed back and forth between spouses); he's been treated with oral antibiotics every time I've been on them. She said for this one they don't treat the husband, probably for practical purposes. They may in the future if their research indicated it, but so far they don't.
What is interesting is that the nurse, who has been at PPVI for almost a decade, said that it's really been in the last year or so that Dr. H and Dr. K have been investigating more closely the link between infection and IF, and they are realizing that they are just hitting the tip of the iceberg, so lots more research has to be done. At least future IFers will be able to benefit from their research. :)
Estradiol 9.1 - 12.7 (normal is >12)
Progesterone 20.6 - 24.2 (normal is >13)
During my first Clomid cycle:
Estradiol 19.2
Progesterone 49.9
Wow. A little Clomid is doing big things. :)
I will admit I sorta thought I was pregnant last cycle. Oh, you post-peak symptoms that mimic early pregnancy symptoms, how you mess with my sanity. ;) I had some brief, localized abdominal pain on and off on P+8 and P+9, which I wondered if it could be implantation cramps. It was similar to Mittelschmerz. I've never had an ovarian cyst but I assumed that pain would have been worse and lasted longer. I was living in my daydream that I could be pregnant, so no one could have convinced me it was a cyst. ;) And I swear my breast tenderness was worse than previous cycles. You know how it is when you've convinced yourself you could be pregnant... Alas, it was not to be.
So while everything is looking good with my hormones, I still have that pesky TEBB. If I'm not pregnant this cycle, Dr. K is recommending 10 days of IV antibiotics (clindamycin). When I first heard this, I pictured myself attached to a pole for a week and a half. The nurse said I'd be attached to a box, not a pole, which sounds like the size of a shoe box but varies by manufacturer. (Anyone had IV antibiotics before?) A home health nurse would come to place the IV and teach me how to change the bag. It's likely that I will need to find a doctor in my state to prescribe this because most of the time they don't accept out-of-state prescriptions. There are a few NaPro medical consultants in my state, so I might have to schedule a visit with one to become an established patient. I'll probably have to call them first to make sure they are willing to prescribe IV antibiotics for TEBB before making the appointment; not all NaPro doctors are necessarily comfortable with this, even though they should be at least familiar with this particular PPVI protocol because it's been in place for a long time. The nurse said they tend to have good success with the IV antibiotic in eliminating TEBB, but I didn't ask her to quantify what "good" meant.
I did ask if it would be an option to take the antibiotic orally instead of via IV. She said too many people get C. diff infections after the oral antibiotic that they don't prescribe it that way. (C. difficile is a really bad infection...)
I asked if DH would be treated also (since an infection can be passed back and forth between spouses); he's been treated with oral antibiotics every time I've been on them. She said for this one they don't treat the husband, probably for practical purposes. They may in the future if their research indicated it, but so far they don't.
What is interesting is that the nurse, who has been at PPVI for almost a decade, said that it's really been in the last year or so that Dr. H and Dr. K have been investigating more closely the link between infection and IF, and they are realizing that they are just hitting the tip of the iceberg, so lots more research has to be done. At least future IFers will be able to benefit from their research. :)
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Giveaway winner
The winner of a copy of The Infertility Companion for Catholics is...
For those of you who don't have the book yet, check out the other blogs on the blog tour for a chance to win. Each blogger has a copy to give away!
BlessedBeLord!
For those of you who don't have the book yet, check out the other blogs on the blog tour for a chance to win. Each blogger has a copy to give away!
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Sneak peek inside "The Infertility Companion for Catholics"
I am excited to be part of the blog tour helping to spread the word about this great book!
Book description from Ave Maria Press:
Now for the sneak peek! Here is an excerpt from Chapter 7: "Bearing the Cross: A Spirituality of Infertility."
SE=Spiritual Exercises by St. Ignatius
I have a copy of the book to give away! Please leave a comment to be entered. You are seriously going to love this book. It's like having the best of the IF blog community in a single resource. Consider buying it for yourself if you don't win a copy. I am definitely going to start recommending it to my Catholic IF clients.
Book description from Ave Maria Press:
"One in every six United States couples experiences infertility but Catholic couples face additional confusion, worry, and frustration as they explore the medical options available to them. Filling a major void in Catholic resources, The Infertility Companion for Catholics is the first book to address not only the medical, emotional, and spiritual dimensions of infertility, but also the particular needs of Catholic couples who desire to understand and follow Church teaching on the use of assisted reproductive technology.
Authors Angelique Ruhi-López and Carmen SantamarÃa offer the support and wisdom gained in their own struggles with infertility. They describe the options that Catholic couples can pursue in seeking to conceive, many of which are not ordinarily presented by the medical community. In an encouraging and non-judgmental tone, they address both husbands and wives and help them recognize the emotional impact of infertility on their relationship.
The Infertility Companion for Catholics presents a variety of spiritual resources including prayers, devotions, and the wisdom of the saints and provides suggestions for further reading of reference materials, Catholic documents, and Catholic blogs about infertility."
Now for the sneak peek! Here is an excerpt from Chapter 7: "Bearing the Cross: A Spirituality of Infertility."
Saying Yes to the Cross
Before Jesus literally took up his own cross, he prayed on the Mount of Olives: “Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me; still, not my will but yours be done” (Lk 22:42).
So often, I prayed to God to take away the cup of infertility and send us a baby. Unlike Jesus, however, I tended to omit the “not my will but yours be done” part. After all, wasn’t my will superior to his?
That veil of self-deception was lifted from my eyes when I started praying St. Ignatius’s Principle and Foundation, found in chapter 2. The call to be passionately indifferent is what struck me the most when I first encountered Ignatius’s Principle and Foundation while coming to terms with infertility. I was drawn to the invitation to establish order in our lives to enable the transforming love of God to penetrate us.
Being indifferent, then, is having the freedom to constantly love and serve, to go beyond our comfort zones and allow God to weave his will into our lives. A priest I know, Fr. Manuel Maza, S.J., says it’s not about making plans and then asking God to conform his plans to ours; it’s about praying, “God, give me plans.”
Just as it is important to be indifferent in discernment, it is equally important to strive for indifference in our struggle with infertility. Indifference evolves toward openness and commitment. It means putting God’s will above all else and seeking to love whatever God wants us to love. It also requires that we not prefer “riches to poverty, honor to dishonor, a long life to a short life” (SE 23). The same concept can be applied to infertility in that God calls us to not prefer sickness to health or infertility to fertility.
To be indifferent to the outcome is not to be indifferent to God’s will. To the contrary, it means to be so passionately in love with God that one says yes to his will, even if that means taking up a heavy cross. Being indifferent is a grace from God, and it is necessary to ask God for it. However, saying yes to the cross of infertility is not something that happens overnight, nor do we have to carry this cross alone. We must be patient with ourselves and realize that it is a decision we make daily, with God’s help.
I can’t say that I ever achieved the complete indifference to which we’re called, and I probably didn’t relinquish as much control as I would have liked, but prayer did help me surrender a lot (okay, some) of the control to God. Praying for the grace of indifference and making the effort to trust in God’s will is a part of the journey of infertility.
It is important to acknowledge the suffering associated with infertility, since one way of managing the pain is to face it. In time we can learn to embrace the cross—otherwise, how do we carry something if we don’t fully embrace it? It is so much hard to carry something if we are not putting all of our effort into it. Pray for the courage and strength; remember that the Bible tells us not be afraid 365 times—enough to remind us every day of the year!
As with continuous exercise, carrying our cross helps us build endurance and makes bearing the cross somewhat easier. There are some days when we feel weak and the load doesn’t seem so light, but as we accept God’s will and grow in his grace, the load doesn’t seem as heavy. It may simply be that we become used to carrying it around, but the very act of accepting and carrying the cross helps us on our journey.
SE=Spiritual Exercises by St. Ignatius
I have a copy of the book to give away! Please leave a comment to be entered. You are seriously going to love this book. It's like having the best of the IF blog community in a single resource. Consider buying it for yourself if you don't win a copy. I am definitely going to start recommending it to my Catholic IF clients.
![]() |
| Visit the other blogs on the tour! |
Labels:
IF support
Monday, April 23, 2012
Emotional battlefield
I'm normally an optimistic, look-on-the-bright-side-of-things sort of person, but life with IF is not always sunshine and roses. While I'd rather write about hopeful things, I wanted to touch on some of what I've been going through that is not so pleasant. I had written about grief and the emotions that go along with it a while ago, but that didn't cover all of the negative emotions related to IF that I've experienced. The main three that I find myself battling most often are numbness, apathy, and shame.
Numbness
I usually feel numb when it comes to others' children. It's a defense mechanism, I presume, so that I can survive in public where other people's children exist. Sometimes it seems the only way I can face babies or children is if I bundle up all the sorrow and heartache of IF and hide it behind a wall of numbness. It's how I make it through Mass if we're sitting behind a family with a baby without falling to pieces in the pew. I sometimes even manage to smile at the baby, but usually I stare with a blank expression and almost marvel at the fact that other people can have babies...so much has to go right in order to conceive that it sometimes boggles my mind at how many people are able to have kids.
When a good friend with several children shared news of her latest pregnancy, my first reaction was numbness, a complete absence of any emotion. I gave an automatic congratulatory response, but I did not (or could not) share in her joy (and jealousy wasn't involved...this time, anyway). I wish I could have mustered up a little happiness inside, but I was pretty much mostly just numb.
Other people have kids. Four pregnancy announcements in two weeks. That's how it goes right now.
One way I've tried to deal with this numbness is to make a point to remind myself that all children are blessings from God and that I should be rejoicing with my friends for this new life, apart from what is going on with our fertility (or lack thereof). Sometimes I'll think, "Thank you, God, for this child." Making that conscious effort does seem to help. Maybe if I think it enough in my head my heart will feel like cooperating at some point...and maybe I need to pray for more grace because I am certainly not capable of making this change on my own.
I should note that I do experience genuine happiness and joy when an IFer becomes pregnant or adopts. So I just need to figure out how to be less restrictive in the happy emotions. :)
Apathy
"I just don't care anymore."
I find myself feeling this from time to time. I try to fight against it and tell myself it's not true and that I do care, but it's tiresome. It's a lie and an easy temptation for me to fall into. Usually the thought comes to mind when I look back at all the medical tests and treatments we've done and how long we've been TTC. It can get overwhelming when looking at everything on our IF journey as a whole. It's common when AF arrives, and it's hard to have hope when what you've tried so far hasn't worked. It really is tempting to say, "Let's just stop all treatments because they're never going to work anyway." When you continue treatments, the fear of disappointment and failure is always there. I know it's always an option to stop treatments, but I don't want the reason for us stopping to be that I don't care anymore. (I want more thought to go into it than just a sense of giving up.) The truth is—and I have to remind myself of this—is that I do care; I care a great deal, and that's why we're doing the best we can to maximize our chances of conceiving right now.
The bad part about apathy is that it doesn't seem to be limited to IF-related things; it has this tendency to creep into my perspective on other things. I'm not sure what the opposing virtue would be, but I think giving purpose to my daily activities ("God, I'm doing this task for you.") helps keep the apathetic feelings away. It is a constant struggle though.
I will say that since recognizing I was slipping into apathy, making an effort to fight against it seems to be working pretty well. It also could be that I’m more prone to apathy when AF arrives because I’m at my emotional low point, and when the black cloud lifts after a couple days, it’s easier to fight against it.
Shame
I am embarrassed when people ask me how long we've been married and then ask if we have kids. I am especially embarrassed when a new non-IF CrMS client asks if we have kids. I am embarrassed when we go to Mass because we've been going to our parish for a while. We stick out because we're one of the only "young" couples, and we don't have kids, and I'm obviously not sporting a baby bump. (I am small so it would be readily apparent. I have seen people sneak a quick look...hello, my face is up here, not at my belly button.) I hate that it appears that we're not open to life or that we're contracepting. Sometimes we get comments from older married people we know at our parish like, "Oh, when you have kids..." or worse "Oh, when you decide to have kids..." and I cringe inside. A while ago I was in a small group who read and studied Humanae Vitae. I remember talking about the concept of being open to life and being open to having a large family, and I felt like (others could easily view me as) a hypocrite because we don't have kids. I didn't feel comfortable sharing that we were IF, and I also didn't feel like I owed anyone an explanation about our current childlessness.
I know it doesn't matter what people think. Sometimes I just wish that our witness of being open to life actually portrayed that instead of appearing to be the opposite. And not necessarily for my sake so that I feel better—the world needs more visible witnesses to being open to life, since there seemingly are so few.
I know this isprobably good for me to be mildly humiliated about our appearance of being not open to children because it's teaching me that only God's opinion matters and that I shouldn't be attached to the thought that others think well of me.
I saw this phrase on a sign in front of a church a while ago, and it has stuck with me ever since. I wish I would have taken a picture.
So true, especially for us IFers.
Numbness
I usually feel numb when it comes to others' children. It's a defense mechanism, I presume, so that I can survive in public where other people's children exist. Sometimes it seems the only way I can face babies or children is if I bundle up all the sorrow and heartache of IF and hide it behind a wall of numbness. It's how I make it through Mass if we're sitting behind a family with a baby without falling to pieces in the pew. I sometimes even manage to smile at the baby, but usually I stare with a blank expression and almost marvel at the fact that other people can have babies...so much has to go right in order to conceive that it sometimes boggles my mind at how many people are able to have kids.
When a good friend with several children shared news of her latest pregnancy, my first reaction was numbness, a complete absence of any emotion. I gave an automatic congratulatory response, but I did not (or could not) share in her joy (and jealousy wasn't involved...this time, anyway). I wish I could have mustered up a little happiness inside, but I was pretty much mostly just numb.
Other people have kids. Four pregnancy announcements in two weeks. That's how it goes right now.
One way I've tried to deal with this numbness is to make a point to remind myself that all children are blessings from God and that I should be rejoicing with my friends for this new life, apart from what is going on with our fertility (or lack thereof). Sometimes I'll think, "Thank you, God, for this child." Making that conscious effort does seem to help. Maybe if I think it enough in my head my heart will feel like cooperating at some point...and maybe I need to pray for more grace because I am certainly not capable of making this change on my own.
I should note that I do experience genuine happiness and joy when an IFer becomes pregnant or adopts. So I just need to figure out how to be less restrictive in the happy emotions. :)
Apathy
"I just don't care anymore."
I find myself feeling this from time to time. I try to fight against it and tell myself it's not true and that I do care, but it's tiresome. It's a lie and an easy temptation for me to fall into. Usually the thought comes to mind when I look back at all the medical tests and treatments we've done and how long we've been TTC. It can get overwhelming when looking at everything on our IF journey as a whole. It's common when AF arrives, and it's hard to have hope when what you've tried so far hasn't worked. It really is tempting to say, "Let's just stop all treatments because they're never going to work anyway." When you continue treatments, the fear of disappointment and failure is always there. I know it's always an option to stop treatments, but I don't want the reason for us stopping to be that I don't care anymore. (I want more thought to go into it than just a sense of giving up.) The truth is—and I have to remind myself of this—is that I do care; I care a great deal, and that's why we're doing the best we can to maximize our chances of conceiving right now.
The bad part about apathy is that it doesn't seem to be limited to IF-related things; it has this tendency to creep into my perspective on other things. I'm not sure what the opposing virtue would be, but I think giving purpose to my daily activities ("God, I'm doing this task for you.") helps keep the apathetic feelings away. It is a constant struggle though.
I will say that since recognizing I was slipping into apathy, making an effort to fight against it seems to be working pretty well. It also could be that I’m more prone to apathy when AF arrives because I’m at my emotional low point, and when the black cloud lifts after a couple days, it’s easier to fight against it.
Shame
I am embarrassed when people ask me how long we've been married and then ask if we have kids. I am especially embarrassed when a new non-IF CrMS client asks if we have kids. I am embarrassed when we go to Mass because we've been going to our parish for a while. We stick out because we're one of the only "young" couples, and we don't have kids, and I'm obviously not sporting a baby bump. (I am small so it would be readily apparent. I have seen people sneak a quick look...hello, my face is up here, not at my belly button.) I hate that it appears that we're not open to life or that we're contracepting. Sometimes we get comments from older married people we know at our parish like, "Oh, when you have kids..." or worse "Oh, when you decide to have kids..." and I cringe inside. A while ago I was in a small group who read and studied Humanae Vitae. I remember talking about the concept of being open to life and being open to having a large family, and I felt like (others could easily view me as) a hypocrite because we don't have kids. I didn't feel comfortable sharing that we were IF, and I also didn't feel like I owed anyone an explanation about our current childlessness.
I know it doesn't matter what people think. Sometimes I just wish that our witness of being open to life actually portrayed that instead of appearing to be the opposite. And not necessarily for my sake so that I feel better—the world needs more visible witnesses to being open to life, since there seemingly are so few.
I know this is
I saw this phrase on a sign in front of a church a while ago, and it has stuck with me ever since. I wish I would have taken a picture.
Man sees the what
God sees the why
God sees the why
So true, especially for us IFers.
Labels:
suffering
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Prayer buddy reveal
This Lent I had the privilege of praying for Isaiah 55:8-9 as she waits to grow her family through pregnancy or adoption. She found out that her profile will be shown to a birthmother this week. I hope and pray she will have good news to share soon!!
Happy Easter! Christ is Risen!
Happy Easter! Christ is Risen!
(Feel free to turn up the volume really loud and sing along. That's what I do...) ;)
Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?
~1 Corinthians 15:55
He has been raised; he is not here.
~Mark 16:6
Where, O death, is your sting?
~1 Corinthians 15:55
He has been raised; he is not here.
~Mark 16:6
Labels:
music,
prayer buddies
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
The saints on suffering
I thought I’d gather some words of wisdom from the saints on suffering for some inspiration and a reminder of the value of suffering, especially relevant during Holy Week.
“If we only knew the precious treasure hidden in infirmities, we would receive them with the same joy with which we receive the greatest benefits, and we would bear them without ever complaining or showing signs of weariness.” ~St. Vincent de Paul
“When it is all over you will not regret having suffered; rather you will regret having suffered so little, and suffered that little so badly.” ~St. Sebastian Valfre
“It is You, Jesus, stretched out on the cross, who gives me strength and are always close to the suffering soul. Creatures will abandon a person in his suffering, but You, O Lord, are faithful.”
~St. Faustina
“Oh if only the suffering soul knew how it is loved by God, it would die of happiness! Some day we will know the value of suffering, but then we will no longer be able to suffer. The present moment is ours.” ~St. Faustina
"...if God sends such great suffering to a soul, He upholds it with an even greater grace, although we are not aware of it. One act of trust at such moments gives greater glory to God than whole hours passed in prayer filled with consolations." ~St. Faustina
"Only Jesus knows how burdensome and difficult it is to accomplish one's duties when the soul is so interiorly tortured, the physical powers so weakened and the mind darkened. In the silence of my heart I kept saying to myself, "O Christ, may delights, honor and glory be Yours, and suffering be mine. I will not lag one step behind as I follow You, though thorns wound my feet."
~St. Faustina
"O my Jesus, despite the deep night that is all around me and the dark clouds which hide the horizon, I know that the sun never goes out. O Lord, though I cannot comprehend You and do not understand Your ways, I nonetheless trust in Your mercy. If it is Your will, Lord, that I live always in such darkness, may You be blessed. I ask You only one thing, Jesus: do not allow me to offend You in any way. O my Jesus, You alone know the longings and the sufferings of my heart. I am glad I can suffer for You, however little. When I feel that the suffering is more than I can bear, I take refuge in the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, and I speak to Him with profound silence."
~St. Faustina
“The cross: it is the cross he must carry for there is nothing more necessary, more useful, more agreeable and more glorious than suffering for Jesus Christ.” ~St. Louis de Montfort
“Say to him, ‘My God, in Thee are all my hopes; I offer to Thee this affliction and resign myself to Thy will; but do Thou take pity on me—either deliver me out of it, or give me strength to bear it.’ And He will truly keep with you that promise He made in the Gospel to all those who are in trouble, to console and comfort them as often as they have recourse to Him: ‘Come to Me, all you that labor and are burdened, and I will refresh you.’ (Mt 11:28)” ~St. Alphonsus Liguori
“In this consists all our security and perfection: in suffering with resignation all things that are contrary to our inclinations, as they happen to us day by day, whether they are small or great. And we must suffer them for those purposes for which the Lord desires that we should endure them: a) to purify ourselves from the sins we have committed; b) to merit eternal life; and c) to please God, which is the chief and most noble and at which we can aim in all our doings.” ~St. Alphonsus Liguori
“…if we wish our hearts to become inflamed with divine love, we must permit ourselves to be purified by suffering, humbly and resignedly, temptations, trials, persecutions, tribulations. Oh, being then well cleansed, divine love will possess us.” ~St. Paul of the Cross
“The more deeply the cross penetrates, the better; the more deprived suffering is of consolation the purer it will be; the more creatures oppose us, the more closely shall we be united to God.”
~St. Paul of the Cross
“Have you ever noticed rocks in the sea, beaten by the tempest? A furious wave dashes against the rock, another and yet another does likewise, yet the rock is unmoved. But look at it after the storm has subsided, and you will see that the flood has but served to wash and purify it of the defilement it had contracted during the calm. Hereafter I wish you to be as a rock. A wave dashes against you? Silence! It assails you ten, a hundred, a thousand times? Silence! Say, at most, in the midst of the storm, ‘My Father, my Father, I am all Thine! O dear, O sweet will of God, I adore Thee!’” ~St. Paul of the Cross
“I must die to myself continually and accept trials without complaining. I work, I suffer and I love with no other witness than his heart. Anyone who is not prepared to suffer all for the Beloved and to do his will in all things is not worthy of the sweet name of Friend, for here below, Love without suffering does not exist.” ~St. Bernadette Soubirous
“I shall spend every moment loving. One who loves does not notice her trials; or perhaps more accurately, she is able to love them.” ~St. Bernadette Soubirous
"I understood that to become a saint one had to suffer much, seek out always the most perfect thing to do, and forget self. I understood, too, that there are many degrees of perfection and each soul was free to respond to the advances of the Our Lord, to do little or much for Him, in a word, to choose among the sacrifices He was asking. Then, as in the days of my childhood, I cried out: 'My God, I choose all!' I do not want to be a saint by halves, I'm not afraid to suffer for You, I fear only one thing: to keep my own will; so take it, for I choose all that You will!" ~St. Therese of Lisieux
“As iron is fashioned by fire and on the anvil, so in the fire of suffering and under the weight of trials, our souls receive that form which our Lord desires them to have.” ~St. Madeline Sophie Barat
“If God causes you to suffer much, it is a sign that He has great designs for you, and that He certainly intends to make you a saint.” ~St. Ignatius Loyola
“We always find that those who walked closest to Christ were those who had to bear the greatest trials.” ~St. Teresa of Avila
“The remedy is to look at Christ, if when faced with suffering, you at some time feel that your soul is wavering. The scene of Calvary proclaims to everyone that afflictions have to be sanctified, that we are to live united to the cross. If we bear our difficulties as Christians, they are turned into reparation and atonement. They give us a share in Jesus’ destiny and in his life.” ~St. Josemaria Escriva
“Accept whatever He gives—and give whatever He takes with a big smile.” ~Bl. Mother Teresa
“Like all gifts, it depends on how we receive it. And that is why we need a pure heart to see the hand of God, to feel the hand of God, to recognize the gift of God in our suffering. He allows us to share in his suffering and to make up for the sins of the world.” ~Bl. Mother Teresa
“The important thing is not to waste suffering. Join it to the suffering of Christ; offer it up with His suffering. Don't waste suffering.” ~Bl. Mother Teresa
"Never let anything so fill with you pain or sorrow, so as to make you forget the joy of Christ risen."
~Bl. Mother Teresa
That last one so beautifully captures what I’ve been thinking about the past few days. With AF due during the Triduum, I’ve been reflecting on how that will affect me during both Good Friday and the Easter Vigil. (I’m still hoping for a miracle, of course.) It’s easier to relate more deeply to the passion and death of Christ while I’m in the midst of great personal suffering, but I’ve been wondering (or worried?) how much I’ll be able to share in the joy of Christ’s resurrection with such sorrow on my heart. I don’t want IF to distract me, but I can’t necessarily just shut off that emotional part of my brain and completely replace it with the joy of Easter. I am hoping for a middle ground between the two extremes…
And while on the subject of suffering, here is a music video of a rapping Catholic priest. Who doesn’t love a rapping priest? I don’t usually listen to rap, but this song is great. :)
*Note: I found most of these quotes from internet searches.
“If we only knew the precious treasure hidden in infirmities, we would receive them with the same joy with which we receive the greatest benefits, and we would bear them without ever complaining or showing signs of weariness.” ~St. Vincent de Paul
“When it is all over you will not regret having suffered; rather you will regret having suffered so little, and suffered that little so badly.” ~St. Sebastian Valfre
“It is You, Jesus, stretched out on the cross, who gives me strength and are always close to the suffering soul. Creatures will abandon a person in his suffering, but You, O Lord, are faithful.”
~St. Faustina
“Oh if only the suffering soul knew how it is loved by God, it would die of happiness! Some day we will know the value of suffering, but then we will no longer be able to suffer. The present moment is ours.” ~St. Faustina
"...if God sends such great suffering to a soul, He upholds it with an even greater grace, although we are not aware of it. One act of trust at such moments gives greater glory to God than whole hours passed in prayer filled with consolations." ~St. Faustina
"Only Jesus knows how burdensome and difficult it is to accomplish one's duties when the soul is so interiorly tortured, the physical powers so weakened and the mind darkened. In the silence of my heart I kept saying to myself, "O Christ, may delights, honor and glory be Yours, and suffering be mine. I will not lag one step behind as I follow You, though thorns wound my feet."
~St. Faustina
"O my Jesus, despite the deep night that is all around me and the dark clouds which hide the horizon, I know that the sun never goes out. O Lord, though I cannot comprehend You and do not understand Your ways, I nonetheless trust in Your mercy. If it is Your will, Lord, that I live always in such darkness, may You be blessed. I ask You only one thing, Jesus: do not allow me to offend You in any way. O my Jesus, You alone know the longings and the sufferings of my heart. I am glad I can suffer for You, however little. When I feel that the suffering is more than I can bear, I take refuge in the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, and I speak to Him with profound silence."
~St. Faustina
“The cross: it is the cross he must carry for there is nothing more necessary, more useful, more agreeable and more glorious than suffering for Jesus Christ.” ~St. Louis de Montfort
“Say to him, ‘My God, in Thee are all my hopes; I offer to Thee this affliction and resign myself to Thy will; but do Thou take pity on me—either deliver me out of it, or give me strength to bear it.’ And He will truly keep with you that promise He made in the Gospel to all those who are in trouble, to console and comfort them as often as they have recourse to Him: ‘Come to Me, all you that labor and are burdened, and I will refresh you.’ (Mt 11:28)” ~St. Alphonsus Liguori
“In this consists all our security and perfection: in suffering with resignation all things that are contrary to our inclinations, as they happen to us day by day, whether they are small or great. And we must suffer them for those purposes for which the Lord desires that we should endure them: a) to purify ourselves from the sins we have committed; b) to merit eternal life; and c) to please God, which is the chief and most noble and at which we can aim in all our doings.” ~St. Alphonsus Liguori
“…if we wish our hearts to become inflamed with divine love, we must permit ourselves to be purified by suffering, humbly and resignedly, temptations, trials, persecutions, tribulations. Oh, being then well cleansed, divine love will possess us.” ~St. Paul of the Cross
“The more deeply the cross penetrates, the better; the more deprived suffering is of consolation the purer it will be; the more creatures oppose us, the more closely shall we be united to God.”
~St. Paul of the Cross
“Have you ever noticed rocks in the sea, beaten by the tempest? A furious wave dashes against the rock, another and yet another does likewise, yet the rock is unmoved. But look at it after the storm has subsided, and you will see that the flood has but served to wash and purify it of the defilement it had contracted during the calm. Hereafter I wish you to be as a rock. A wave dashes against you? Silence! It assails you ten, a hundred, a thousand times? Silence! Say, at most, in the midst of the storm, ‘My Father, my Father, I am all Thine! O dear, O sweet will of God, I adore Thee!’” ~St. Paul of the Cross
“I must die to myself continually and accept trials without complaining. I work, I suffer and I love with no other witness than his heart. Anyone who is not prepared to suffer all for the Beloved and to do his will in all things is not worthy of the sweet name of Friend, for here below, Love without suffering does not exist.” ~St. Bernadette Soubirous
“I shall spend every moment loving. One who loves does not notice her trials; or perhaps more accurately, she is able to love them.” ~St. Bernadette Soubirous
"I understood that to become a saint one had to suffer much, seek out always the most perfect thing to do, and forget self. I understood, too, that there are many degrees of perfection and each soul was free to respond to the advances of the Our Lord, to do little or much for Him, in a word, to choose among the sacrifices He was asking. Then, as in the days of my childhood, I cried out: 'My God, I choose all!' I do not want to be a saint by halves, I'm not afraid to suffer for You, I fear only one thing: to keep my own will; so take it, for I choose all that You will!" ~St. Therese of Lisieux
“As iron is fashioned by fire and on the anvil, so in the fire of suffering and under the weight of trials, our souls receive that form which our Lord desires them to have.” ~St. Madeline Sophie Barat
“If God causes you to suffer much, it is a sign that He has great designs for you, and that He certainly intends to make you a saint.” ~St. Ignatius Loyola
“We always find that those who walked closest to Christ were those who had to bear the greatest trials.” ~St. Teresa of Avila
“The remedy is to look at Christ, if when faced with suffering, you at some time feel that your soul is wavering. The scene of Calvary proclaims to everyone that afflictions have to be sanctified, that we are to live united to the cross. If we bear our difficulties as Christians, they are turned into reparation and atonement. They give us a share in Jesus’ destiny and in his life.” ~St. Josemaria Escriva
“Accept whatever He gives—and give whatever He takes with a big smile.” ~Bl. Mother Teresa
“Like all gifts, it depends on how we receive it. And that is why we need a pure heart to see the hand of God, to feel the hand of God, to recognize the gift of God in our suffering. He allows us to share in his suffering and to make up for the sins of the world.” ~Bl. Mother Teresa
“The important thing is not to waste suffering. Join it to the suffering of Christ; offer it up with His suffering. Don't waste suffering.” ~Bl. Mother Teresa
"Never let anything so fill with you pain or sorrow, so as to make you forget the joy of Christ risen."
~Bl. Mother Teresa
That last one so beautifully captures what I’ve been thinking about the past few days. With AF due during the Triduum, I’ve been reflecting on how that will affect me during both Good Friday and the Easter Vigil. (I’m still hoping for a miracle, of course.) It’s easier to relate more deeply to the passion and death of Christ while I’m in the midst of great personal suffering, but I’ve been wondering (or worried?) how much I’ll be able to share in the joy of Christ’s resurrection with such sorrow on my heart. I don’t want IF to distract me, but I can’t necessarily just shut off that emotional part of my brain and completely replace it with the joy of Easter. I am hoping for a middle ground between the two extremes…
And while on the subject of suffering, here is a music video of a rapping Catholic priest. Who doesn’t love a rapping priest? I don’t usually listen to rap, but this song is great. :)
*Note: I found most of these quotes from internet searches.
Labels:
encouragement,
saints,
suffering
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)






























