PMS...

I haven’t written an entry for a while. I had an editing job come through that has taken up a lot of time (lucky I enjoy it!), and I’ve been tired…

And I’ve also had a case of PMS – otherwise known as “Poor Me Syndrome”.

I have been feeling down, feeling that the world is unfair, that nobody likes me – everybody hates me, that the problems of the world are unfixable, that the human race is doomed so why bother trying, etc. etc. Basically I’ve been in a place that everybody in the world finds themselves at one time or another.

I’ve now kicked my own butt and I’m feeling much more positive.

So – what’s happening at the moment?

Next Thursday I’m headed into hospital for day surgery. As my regular readers will know I have had trouble with heavy bleeding every month that has led to me having anaemia. I tried a hormonal thing that didn’t go well and was then referred to a gynaecologist. I saw the brilliant Dr Singla just before Christmas and was given some options to think about and talk about with Kirby.

I will be having a uterine ablation and a bilateral tubal ligation, which hopefully will really help with the bleeding, and thus the tiredness, and thus me being able to live the life I want to.

I’m really excited about how I may very well be after the surgery. I have plans of what I’m going to be doing (I will be easing into things slowly though) including starting Aikido, resuming bike riding, and doing more sewing.

But, I’m nervous as anything about the surgery (especially the anaesthesia). I’ve been under anaesthesia before, but the last time I was under the full one was when I was sixteen. I’ve only been under light general anaesthesia since then (once to remove a ganglion from my wrist and the other times for egg collection during IVF).

I guess it’s normal to be nervous. There are things that can happen under anaesthetic – but then there are things that can happen just by crossing the road too.

But, I cross the road a lot – I don’t go under anaesthesia that often (thankfully!).

Well – if you, my lovely readers, could send me positive vibes across the air waves on Thursday that would be brilliant, and I’ll let you know how it all goes.

Friends...

We recently went to visit some friends who have a new baby boy. He is beautiful and already knows how to do fist bumps so obviously he is very gifted!

I loved giving him a big cuddle and I tried to sneak him away so we could keep him, but our friends know where we live so I don’t think we would have gotten away with it…

This entire entry could be just about him, but there is something else I want to write about.

I was holding this amazing child, feeding him with his bottle, and burping him, and we were all talking about him and how he and they were going, and his Dad suggested that he (not the baby) might try out the tummy time cushion we had given them (would have made an interesting sight – a grown man, tummy down, on a cushion for a little baby!)

Then they asked us how we were going, and about our dogs, and about many other things that were going on in our lives.

What they didn’t know was that on the way to their place Kirby pulled over to the side of the road as I was crying (mostly because of the hormonal effects of the Mirena) and feeling like my life was worthless. Kirby suggested we put off visiting our friends, but I said no because I really wanted to see them. I was grateful to Kirby for offering an out if I needed it – he is so understanding.

So, in asking us the questions they did I was given a great big validation that our lives are interesting and that our friends care about us and what we are doing too.

Focussing on a newborn baby is absolutely normal and understandable, and should the conversation have been completely about them and their baby I would have understood. But it was a precious gift to have our friends being genuinely interested in our lives.

Sometimes I feel like our lives are not as important as those of people who have children – not because of anything any one says or does really, but because of my own thoughts.

The gift our friends gave us that day pushed those feelings aside and have actually made me relook at my life and see that what I do is worthwhile in a different way to what it would be if I was raising a child.

I do feel like I’ve rambled in this entry – it’s harder than I thought to express my thoughts and feelings about what happened. So I’ll leave it at this.

Thank you to our beautiful friends, and isn't their baby gorgeous!!

I didn't want to give him back!!

Daily Mail Online...

Well – I’ve been a bit naughty leaving it for a month to write a new entry…can I blame the holiday season? I think so!

To make up for it – I’m doing two blog entries today…

The first…I am very excited to say that an extract from my book “When You Can’t Have Kids” has been published in the Mail Online. Along with lots and lots of photos of us, and our family, and our dogs (Ari and Odi are now selling autographed copies of their photos at $5 a pop as they believe they are famous now…I’m kidding of course!)

Ari and Odi

My own reactions, apart from being thrilled, have surprised me. Reading the extract, after not having read my book for some time, has brought about some of that old sorrow I used to regularly feel.

It’s not overwhelming, but there is a definite wistfulness and wondering why not us. I’ve also been sincerely moved, almost to tears, by the comments of support that I have received from friends, family, and from complete strangers. The book is doing exactly what I wanted it to do – to let people who can’t or are struggling to have children know that they are not alone, and to give people in the wider community some understanding about what it’s like to not be able to have children.

I’ve also read some negative comments about the extract – and these have impacted on me as well. I’ve felt a bit hurt by some of them, but at the same time I know that there is more support than not and that the comments that are negative are generally due to a lack of understanding or to a personal view. However, I also respect these people for making their comments and will always defend their right to make them.

You know – even if I never sell another copy of the book (although I hope I do!) I would still be delighted with how it has turned out. A cathartic process for me in writing it, support for those in similar situations to Kirby and me, and helping people to understand more about infertility.

It’s all I hoped to achieve.

His favourite food...

This is a conversation that my five year old nephew and I had a few weeks back when we were at a restaurant and I had ordered a vegetarian pizza. I love this little guy – and I’ll bet you can guess what his favourite food is!

Him: Aunty Kate – so you’re a vegetarian?

Me: Yes I am.

Him: Why are you a vegetarian?

Me: Because I’m healthier when I eat vegetarian food.

Him: Oh. You’re healthier. And is that the only reason?

Me: I also like vegetarian food.

Him: Hmmm….I find it hard to believe that you only eat vegetarian food.

Me: Well – I do.

Him: Well – lucky there’s vegetarian sausages then!

Mirena and me...

Before I really start this entry I want to make it very clear that what I am writing applies to me only. In no way is this medical advice or suggesting that what happened to me will happen to everyone. Talk to your doctor about your situation and what is right for you.

Okay – now that’s out of the way!

A few months ago I wrote about how I have extremely heavy periods to the point of being borderline anaemic, and that I was going to try the Mirena (a new wave IUD) (you can read that entry here). Just over three weeks ago I had it put in and initially it was great. No bleeding, no pain (except when it was put in), and I was positive it was going to work for me.

Well – not so much.

 A few days later I started having slight mood swings – I would go from being happy to weeping for no reason that I could identify. It wasn’t nice, but I thought it was just an adjustment to the Mirena and would pass.

But, it didn’t. It got worse. I went from happy to weeping to happy to weeping. I didn’t know what was going on, but I was still determined to keep going with it until my review with my doctor just before Christmas.

But, then... Okay some back story first. I first got depression when I was 22 years of age (so almost 20 years ago). It started soon after a client at my work thought it might be a good idea to stab me when I went on a home visit and I had to fight them off. I ended up leaving that job, but depression came along with me.

Over the first ten years or so I tried many natural therapies and counselling and so on to try and overcome the depression – but, despite people trying to convince me otherwise, mine is a chemical imbalance and I have to be on medication. It took me a long time to accept this and only then was I able to work with my psychiatrist to find a medication regime that really suits me.

Until we found that regime I regularly had an episode of depression (perhaps two to three a year which lasted a month or more at a time). I would be in a black hole where I had no energy, I had no decision making ability (I would wear the same clothes day after day, eat only bread, and stare at the TV unable to change the channel because my brain just didn’t work properly).

Believe it or not – it was the in-between times that were often the hardest; those times when I was sinking into depression and I didn’t want to believe that I could possibly be having yet another episode.

This is still hard to reveal to people, but I did do self-harm. When I first became sick I attempted to take my own life (through overdose) and it was a rose that saved me. I took tablets, then looked out the window and saw the sun shining on a rose – and I realised I didn’t want to never see such a vision again – and I called for help. I also scratched myself on my thighs to the point that I bled, and there are scars where I did so.

Well – I haven’t had an episode for almost four years and I haven’t done self-harm in that time either. My life has been really good – I’ve learnt that I don’t have to be happy all the time and that I don’t have to fight all the so-called negative feelings. I used to be scared that any sadness or anger meant I was getting depressed – but I now realise that they are normal part of the spectrum of emotions (at least most of the time). I can sit with these feelings and not fight them, and I think this has helped, as trying to fight them was exhausting and I believe contributed to my depression.

Okay – back story finished.

Last week I was flipping backwards and forwards between being fine and weeping. I even cried when I was leaving to go to the shops and had to leave my pets – I felt like my heart was breaking. Then, mid last week I went into the bathroom feeling so sad, I picked up some tweezers, and ran them across my thigh. It was only a light scratch, but it shocked me so much. I called Kirby and told him straight away and then told my Mum as well. It was clear that the Mirena was messing with me.

Last Monday I went to my doctor and told her what happened. She immediately said that the Mirena was coming out and that it was going to come out straight away. I was so relieved – especially because she validated that it was the Mirena and I wasn’t going crazy.

The first day after it came out wasn’t easy as I still felt emotional, but now I feel like my usual self again, much to the delight of Kirby, my parents, my parents-in-law, and my dogs and cats too (and of course me!)

Now what is quite confronting is that the options available to me now are going to be much more invasive and more permanent. From what I understand, the options are a uterine ablation (where the lining of my uterus will be destroyed) or a hysterectomy.

I admit – I’m anxious. I have no idea which one the gynaecologist will recommend and which option I will take up.

But, I’ll know soon enough. I have an appointment with a gynaecologist two weeks today and with the one I hoped to see (as she specialises in peri-menopause and all the fun things associated with it).

Well – I think I’ve rambled on enough for today. I’ll certainly let you know how the appointment goes, and in particular how I’m feeling about it all, after my visit to the gynaecologist on the 17^th.

Adieu till next time! And, are you ever going to laugh at my next entry!

New fish babies…

The sadness continued after my last entry as on the following weekend the last of the four babies I bought in recent months, Clancy, died. This left little Angel alone and quite despondent. I know that fish used to be thought of as quite brainless – but research is showing that they do have emotions and form types of friendships with other fish.

So, poor little Angel (who is normally quite outgoing) was hiding behind the rock in the pond, barely eating, and not coming out to see me when I called to him.

I couldn’t leave him all on his own and so I cleaned the pond thoroughly to make sure there were no remnants of whatever it was that made Clancy, Dickon, Ned, and Loki so sick – this even included wiping over the water snails so that there was as little algae as possible on them. Kirby and I then went to a pet shop (NOT the one I went to before!) to get three new babies.

I couldn’t decide between three different types, so I got one of each – an orange comet, a yellow comet, and a calico fantail.  After the staff member put the three fish into a bag for me to take them home I asked her if the fish all spoke the same language – you know, because they are different types. It took a moment for her to realise I was joking!

The babies have settled into the pond nicely. As soon as I put the bag in the pond Angel was out from hiding, doing crazy swims around the pond, coming up and looking through the plastic bag at the newcomers, doing another crazy swim, then peeking into the bag again, and so forth. Needless to say he is a happy little fish now with his new friends.

I named the yellow fish Uthai (which is Thai for rising sun), the calico fish Dana (which is Irish Gaelic for cheeky – which suits her well), and the orange fish Jupiter – just because it’s a cool name.

I won’t forget the other fish I had – and these new fish don’t replace them in my heart – I still love Clancy, Ned, Dickon, and Loki. But, there isn’t a quota on the love we can feel and so I can easily love my new babies as well as, and not instead of.

Beautiful Clancy

From top to bottom - Dana, Uthai, Angel, and Jupiter

Sadness...

I haven’t written a blog entry in the past few weeks as I have been too tired and too sad to do so.

It began about a month ago with the death of one of the four baby fish I bought to add to my small pond. I only had Ned for about a week and he just didn’t do well and eventually passed away. This was soon followed by the death of Loki (another baby) late last month due to mouth rot, and then Dickon, Saturday week ago, from rot around his tail. I tried everything I could to save them – putting them in a separating tank in the pond, antibiotics, water changes…nothing worked.

Then, on the 26^th October the gorgeous Naamfon, an elephant who arrived after I went to Boon Lott’sElephant Sanctuary in May 2014 and who I was looking forward to meeting, died.

Then last week, it was 23 years on the 4^th November since my cousin Ben died in a motor cycle accident. He was only 21 years old, and the older I get the more I realise just how young he was.

Also on the 4^th November I found out about the further tragedies that had befallen BLES the day before. The beautiful bull, Somai, had died, and three of the dogs, Peanut Butter, Marmite, and Hugh (all of whom I spent many happy hours with at BLES) had been poisoned and had died as well – all on the same day.

Then, on the 5^th November I found my beautiful fish, Harriet, ill in the big pond. Harriet was about eight years old, but always a little delicate thing. She died on Friday morning.

On Saturday, after I buried Harriet wrapped in a tissue, with a bit of plant from the pond, and two bits of food to take with her, I wept and I felt so empty.

So much loss. It was, and is, still so much to take in. I expect to see my babies in their ponds swimming happily along and coming up to me looking for food. I never imagined going back to BLES and not having Marmite, Peanut Butter, and Hugh escorting me around the place and coming on walks with the elephants. I never pictured Somai not walking sedately and regally along the track with his beloved mahout Phi Sot. And I always expected to meet Naamfon.

I’m sorry – I can’t write anymore just at the moment…my heart is broken.