Wednesday, September 28, 2011

...honest thoughts i'm not proud of...

sigh, rough week.

my emotions are being pulled so many ways that i have absolutely no clue what to do or how to handle it.

in fact, i am so clueless, that instead of working through my thoughts, feelings and other random pieces of brain matter, i eat cereal and zone out.  (which, by the way, fiber plus makes awesome cereal.  i figured i didn't get any type of vitamins or minerals from all my coca cola consumption, so this was my way of feeling less, er, unhealthy?  and hey, being regular is the plus now, isn't it?)

my little boog has been the sickest i've ever seen him.  heart breaking.  we've had a few days of constant cuddling and sleeping, and this is not a bad thing.  my little terrorist has become quite anti on the, 'cuddling momma' side of things, so i relish when he wants to be close to me.  luckily today he has been showing signs of his normal self, and i welcome it.  my king size bed doesn't feel so king sized when boog is in it.  that kid moves in circles if you give him enough room.  it usually ends with his foot in my face and me teetering on the edge of the bed.  sigh, i love this kiddo.  

boog turns two on saturday.  i know, right?  

besides all that...

the fear of tubby returning has been at the forefront of my mind.  it's unfortunate, but my tumor type has a very high rate of regrowth.  of course!?  of course.  it's so unnerving to think that a little ball of angry cells could be growing inside my brain.  kinda sounds like some sci-fi horror film, don't you think?   truly, though, pretty sure most of the issues going on are from the past three surgeries.  it takes its toll on a body, and let's be honest, my hormones (said like the aunt on, 'my big fat greek wedding') aren't on the level.  my mri was on monday, and i will confess i hate them more than almost anything on this earth.  why in the world are they so loud?!  seriously, i'm in a small tube, with a metal mask over my head, and it sounds like someone is shooting a machine gun at me.  yeah, try to stay nice and calm in that situation.  i also confess that i always cry when they start to move me back into the tube.  sure, rationally i know they are simply taking pictures of my wee little brain, but i am having this mental a scene from, 'scarface' with big guns blowing my brains out.  then there is the contrast injection.  basically it feels like little ice cold worms squirming through my veins, followed by an instant metallic taste in my mouth.  again, sci-fi horror film.  i could make millions.

lots of emotions.

lately i have been having an incredibly hard time with infertility, its definition, and how i react to those dealing and not dealing with it.  was that a confusing sentence?  i just re-read it and it sounds confusing.  

work with me here.

the thing is, i am still new at this.  after (what feels to me like) many years, and many truly horrific experiences, i don't know how to talk about infertility, explain how i feel about it, and handle others experiences.   i'm going to assume that working through infertility is a life long challenge.  i come to terms with certain aspects here and there, but some days it blows my mind and pretty much sends me into a mental rage.

yes, we have boog, and every single heart breaking and soul wrenching experience was worth it to get him.  the leap of faith we took when boog came into the picture was the biggest i've ever been asked to take.  i'm grateful sadie didn't make us go through any more pain.  

i will honestly admit that i oft times compare my situation to those of my peers.  when i hear someone say their infertility battle was, 'long' my brain calculates their time spent in the throws vs. mine.  sometimes i feel like some things were handed to others, which is hard for me to admit, because it feels like i have had to work and struggle and go to hell and back a few times before something worked out.  

like i said, not proud.

of course it's hard at times when i find out a couple gets picked right away, and their placement goes 100% smoothly.  or when infertility treatments work right off the bat, no issues, just babies.  

oh man, again, not proud.

i'm being honest because this is a real side of infertility.  

probably one most people don't talk about.

i'm learning daily that short time/long time, hard placement/easy placement, treatments that work/whatever, that it's all hard.  my hard might not be your hard.  my experience isn't yours, and vise versa.  i try to remind myself that what others have gone through was the worst. possible. hurt and pain for them.  not for me, which is how it should be, because their trials aren't meant to be my trials.

i realize i have so much to work on, and trust me, work on it i do.  

just having a few soul searching moments here on the blog.

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Ashley said...

Love you to Uranus and back.

Alecia said...

its always good to be honest. people who sugar coat everything & act like everything is just fine and dandy on their blogs are filthy liars. you are human, and you feel. i wouldn't be ashamed for feeling this way. of course everyone feels that way, YOU are just brave enough to admit it. i am so sorry about the possible brain tumor coming back, i'll say a prayer for you. how awful. you have every right to feel as horrified and angry as ever! i'd be worse!

Lechelle said...

praying tubby is still gone, and gone for good.

we usually see other's 'highlight reels', not their darkest nights, so it's easy to compare. Forgive yourself darling Kenna. Work on what you need to work on but please be gentle with yourself

Jewls said...

Oh Kenna!

I honestly have the same thoughts but in the opposite direction. Why was our placement with Z SO easy...does that mean the next child is going to take forever? I honestly think I've had it so easy compared to you and I think you are the strongest person I have ever {cyber} met. You're in my prayers!!

Kristina P. said...

I tend to catastrophize and also compare my experiences to others. Which just leads me into a depression. It's so hard not to do it.

elliespen said...

I think it's one of the extra-challenging parts of infertility that it tends to both bind people together and isolate them terribly. Every victory you have is tinged with guilt that you got something someone else didn't; every victory for someone else is both thrilling for you and gut-wrenching, because you love seeing the success stories, but why couldn't it have been you? One of my darkest moments came when I found out right after my second miscarriage that another couple we know had gotten their miracle pregnancy—it just happened for them like it happens for couples without fertility issues—and instead of being thrilled for their miracle, I screamed at heaven that this couple had stolen my baby (seriously, their daughter was born on what would have been my due date). Not proud of myself for that or for how long it took me not to feel that way. But it's part of the drill. I think that being honest with ourselves that we're only human and don't have to feel perfectly charitable all the time is sometimes the only thing that can keep up [relatively] sane.

I envision a big conference room reserved in the next life for a frank Q&A with God about what the point of all the infertility heartbreak was. And until then I've decided that I can [just barely] handle not knowing why and take things as they come. Even if I don't always act graceful about it.

Praying for you, for little boog to feel better, and for tubby to stay the heck away. Know that even when you don't feel like it, a lot of people admire you and are looking out for you in our small way.

Que and Brittany's Adoption Journal said...

I hope Tubby leaves you alone, forever!

Don't think that you are doing anything wrong- it's totally OK to allow yourself to feel what you are feeling. There will always be "those moments" where you have thoughts that you're not-so-proud-of. I still have them, believe me. It's hard not to compare ourselves to others, but when it happens, don't beat yourself up for it, mmmkay? :) Love you!

Clint and Karley Root said...

I'm glad you say what you are feeling, because we all think it. I only post the lovely stuff on my blog. I'm too chicken to say the real stuff! And i totally think the same things. (probably about different struggles) but it's hard not to. I'm sorry that you have so much to deal with :-( I feel guilty that people struggle with things that aren't a struggle for me, but then i see people who don't struggle with the same things i do, and it really pisses me off. and seems unfair. i absolutely love reading your blog :-) i laughed pretty hard at your comment earlier about how you must have been not quite all there, because your bra was still on. My MIL keeps finding my bra in random places at her house because i HATE wearing a bra. Kenna you are amazing. Please teach me how to be cooler.

Love Karley

Clint and Karley Root said...

oh and tubby can go to hell.

Trent and Janel Lyman said...

Here I sit at the computer when Hanna walks in. She sees your picture on the computer and an instant smile is on her face; "Kenna! Oh I just love Kenna!" And we do, we love Kenna!

Kandice said...

I just love ya. I wish I could be as brave as you and put my horrible thoughts on infertility on my blog. Like you, I'm not proud of where my head goes sometimes when it comes to this subject. It's not a good place.
But I love you and am so inspired by you everyday.
And I pray Tubby is not back.

Anonymous said...

It does seem like some people have more than their fair share of hardships, while others skate through life on a pretty easy course.
Please read this:
It talks about a perfect Heavenly Father that knows your life and your limits and will reward each of us accordingly.
And I really do believe that we have the struggles that we can handle the best. I have to, because I find myself wanting to cry about what is unfair, as well.

Val'n'Ben said...

My very wise sister once told me that everyone is entitled to feel how they feel. That includes you and it encompasses all positive and negative emotions alike.

I love you my dear sister. More than you know.

Jill Witt said...

I don't know you and I'm so sorry to hear that you have shared in the infertility trial. But I must say that I think that it is completely unfair to compare your situation to others. Infertility is hard no matter how long it lasts. You can't tell someone else that they haven't been through "hell and back" just because they haven't been through it as long as you... just saying. Everyone is different and we all go through this trial for a reason. All the emotions of infertility are hard. Always. Instead, shouldn't we join together to help strengthen one another instead of judging and criticizing others when their miracle happens?

Best of luck to you. I will pray for my infertile sisters all over the world, including you.

kenna said...

you are right, jill, you don't know me, and of course i didn't say these feelings were good or fair.

if you can honestly tell me that you have never had such a feeling, well, then i bow to you.

i didn't say it was fair, and i said i was working on the judgment issues i'm obviously having. i also don't recall saying that i'm the only one who has been to hell and back. i know that every individual who has experienced any sort of infertility has hurt, has struggled, has had their heart truly torn in half. when these feelings come, i don't confront anyone and say, 'shut it, my hell is worse than your hell.'

i was truly expressing a moment of weakness that i am working on, and i am well aware of the fact it's unfair and not going to take me anywhere.

thank you for your comment, though. i appreciate all views of what i right.

Just me. said...

I see it like this...

It's not that when I hear of another couple getting picked or getting pregnant (treatments or not) that I wish it was me and not them. My heart can't help but ask, "Why couldn't I have that too?"

I've said and felt some horrific things.

I told a woman she wasn't grateful enough for her pregnancy because I felt she was disappointed at having another girl instead of a boy.

Then I told her that she needed to stop whining about her dead babies (her husbands words, not mine) and be grateful for the living baby and pregnancy she had. Because I'd kill for that.

I prayed that a pregnant friend who was milking her pregnancy for attention would understand why it hurt for me to watch because I'd love to be miserable with morning sickness and peeing. That they could understand the pain I was going through.

The day my husband called to go over to talk to her and her husband, they asked if it could wait. She was having a miscarriage.

The month after I got diagnosed with infertility my husbands sister was raped. She got pregnant because of it.

I hated her for it.

I prayed that it would be made better.

She lost the baby in a horrific miscarriage after the baby had died three months earlier. So she was 12 weeks along and didn't lose the baby for three months.

After my inlwas had ignored my pregnancy and told me to forget it because it wasn't a real baby anyways, I had to listen for three years about her baby.

And I hated her more for it.

These are emotions I'm not proud of. These are feelings I didn't keep to myself. These are feelings that we all felt at one point or another.

It has nothing to do with the person they're directed at. They have everything to do with the agony of life not being fair.

Just a thought.

I'm not posting my name because her story isn't mine to tell.

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