Thursday, September 30, 2010
But I, being the supportive wife that I am, went out and bought all the supplies that the doctor required he have pre-procedure (it's a "procedure" nowadays, not a "surgery". It takes 15 minutes and there is no scalpel involved).
I happily went to Walmart and picked up the extra strength Tylenol, extra strength Ibuprofen, antibiotic cream, gauze and gel packs.
He also needed a pair of snug fitting undies and an "athletic support" which he is to wear over the undies when he goes for the procedure.
When I got home and realized I had bought the jock in youth sized xs, I had myself a good laugh. Steve didn't think it was funny. Nor did he laugh when I suggested that maybe that might be the size he will need AFTER the procedure.
I have since returned the jock for the right size - Mens XL (wink wink, nudge nudge). Ruby proudly rode around in the cart at Walmart holding it up for everyone to see while yelling, "Daddy GOCK! Daddy GOCK!". We're so charming.
Anyways, in an effort to be as supportive and caring and helpful as possible during this somewhat scary time for my husband, I went through his supplies and laid some of them out for him last night. In the kitchen... on the chopping block...
And he's still not laughing.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
I should KNOW better than to say stuff like that because sure as shit as soon as it leaves my lips (or my fingertips), then it then becomes a big open invitation for the Universe to say, "Oh yeah? You thought that was bad? Wait till you get a load of this..."
I was diagnosed with severe left side horizontal BPPV. And despite two visits to my family doctor and 3 visits to a physiotherapist who has been performing the *"Epley Maneuver" on me, I still suffer. In fact I am sleeping pretty much sitting up, can not sleep on my left side, must not bend over, look down or up or tilt my head to either side.
That's a load of fun with two little kids.
Like when I bent over to help Ruby put on her shoes and I had an "episode" and fell down.
Or when I leaned over to pick up Lincoln and I lost my balance and stumbled.
And the looks you get when you are standing in line at the grocery store with your kids in the stroller and you rock back on your heels.
If only that was all I was dealing with. But no...
A day after the vertigo returned, I noticed that Lincoln had been super fussy. And warm. I took his temperature and realized he had a fever. One which Tylenol wouldn't bring down. Which is a bad thing. Babies that age are not supposed to get fevers.
So with vertigo, I was in and out of emergency rooms with Lincoln no less than three times. The first night we were in the hospital until 2am. Two different nurses took turns trying to get viles of blood out of his chubby little arm, poking him three different times and digging around in his arm trying to find a vein while I had to hold him down and he SCREAMED and SCREAMED. They gave him a catheter which was NOT a good time either. And before we left they gave him an antibiotic injection in his little thigh.
The whole time I wanted to die inside for what he was going through. And each time I tried to lay my head beside his naked, little, overheated body the room spun hard and I had to clutch the hospital bed.
That night there was pretty much no sleep.
Vertigo is aggravated by fatigue.
Then there was a blur of more emergency room visits, physio treatments for me, doctor and pediatrician appointments.
Eventually it was determined that Lincoln has a urinary tract infection (from **bubble bath?!!??). He will be on antibiotics for a week. Hopefully his diaper rash will clear up soon too.
During this time we found that Ruby had a giant boil (GROSS!) on her ear - which disturbed me greatly but I didn't have the energy to fuss too much about it and it thankfully went away.
Over the past week or two any little bit of normalcy or routine that I had established has been completely wiped out. We are in full on survival mode. Ruby has eaten more meals of goldfish crackers than I care to admit and Lincoln has been reverted back to sleeping in my bed with me at night and has spent far too much time in his baby swing. There have been moments when I was sure I was not going to survive, yet I dare not be so foolish as to label this time with anything such as Hell, Purgatory, or ABSOLUTELY FUCKING BRUTAL. And I dare not say that I am feeling despair. Because... I know that things could be worse. And I do not wish to temp the Universe to show me how "good" I have it right now. So I will endure. I will survive. I will get through this.
And when it's over I am going to be kicking some ass because life will seem soooo easy. Right?
**WHY did I not know that bubble bath is a leading cause of UTIs in kids??? I swished Lincoln around in the tub with Ruby while she was having a bubble bath, trying to kill two birds with one stone. The bubble baths are now gone. Nobody gets bubbles anymore - despite Ruby's protests..
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
I've been doing my very best to keep it together and some days I do pretty good. Other days I go to bed dreading waking up the next day.
A few times I've felt sure that post partum depression was creeping in. With my long history of depression and anxiety, that scares me. These kids need so much from me, I can't afford to be depressed.
So when I got a severe case of vertigo two weeks ago it totally leveled me. Vertigo is the most awful awful awful thing to get. I could not care for my kids but I had to find a way.
I have lived in fear over the past two weeks that it would return. And this morning it did.
I was up half the night with a fussy Lincoln. Then at 5:30am as I was feeding him again, I turned to my right and the whole room let loose on me. I quickly took the medicine that I was given to combat vertigo but it has not helped me. I tried to ignore it and just go on with my day - because I don't have much choice to do anything otherwise. But as I was bent down helping Ruby put on her shoes, the room spun hard on me and I fell.
Since then I can't stop crying. I am fucked. I am so afraid I will have this for the rest of my life. I can't function. I am nauseous. I am exhausted. I can't sleep because when I close my eyes the room spins. I don't know how I can take proper care of my kids when I feel like this. They need me to be able to look after them and I can barely move.
I have a doctors appointment this afternoon but have little hope for any resolution.
I feel total despair right now.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Last year Ruby and I attended. When I walked away I had a big lump in my throat, feeling sure that I would likely never see these women again - for obvious reasons.
Little did I know that I would become pregnant shortly after that picnic. Hell, when I look at the calendar it might have even been that very night!
And so this year the four of us attended the picnic. A mom, a dad, a daughter and a son. The family that I never thought I would have.
But mere hours before the picnic, Steve had a consultation with the doctor that is going to perform his vasectomy.
I spent TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS to get pregnant due to MALE FACTOR INFERTILITY and my husband is now going to get a VASECTOMY. Do you know how weird that feels??? There was a time when I was gutted at the possibility of living childless for the rest of my life and trying to figure out how I would come to terms with that and now I am sending my husband for a VASECTOMY.
He has less than 1% viable sperm for Christ sake!
Yet, here I was at the midwive's picnic for the second year in a row. I do not want to attend next year's picnic. Nor any subsequent picnics in the future.
So a vasectomy it is.
Still. The irony. Right?
When I walked away from the picnic this time and loaded up my family into my minivan, I did not have the lump in my throat. I knew that this was indeed goodbye... again. And that this time it was going to be goodbye for real. But this time it was on my terms and not at the mercy of infertility.
And I do perfer things to be on my terms.