Less drama, more LOVE

Occasionally I want to run away from all of the things (and humans), to live in the desert in relative solitude.

I suspect I’m not alone in this longing.

Connection is not an antidote to misanthropy.

I find it hard to endure people some days. Damned hard.

Guess I’m an introvert after all, notwithstanding the courtroom, boardroom, backroom advocacy and public speaking.

My life was simpler when it was just me and my dog living alone in a foreign country. So much simpler.

I miss simple.

I miss the joy of embracing a random moment, of not being pulled in 47 directions at once, of chasing a small, neurodiverse human with remarkable capacity for self endangerment, of not wondering where the love in my life went and how it got replaced with periodic drama and distress.

I miss love. Not Hollywood schlockery. Not the head over heels stuff. Love. Finding joy in the little things – favourite socks, clean teeth, crisp morning air, the first signs of Spring, random acts of kindness. Random acts of love.

I am done with the negative, the naysayers, the demands and the drivel. Done, I say.

Down with drama. I stand with LOVE.

The “what ifs” continue and other news

The new year at work has rocketed into action. It was a dizzyingly busy first week back in the office culminating in an eye-widening court appearance and a job interview for a prestigious but contract-only government job.

When I applied for that job I was still on maternity leave and dreading a return to the pressures and hours of a busy law firm practice. I assumed that because my submission never resulted in an interview while I was still on leave that I didn’t make the grade.

As it turns out, wheels in government turn painstakingly slowly. I ought to have known that from having government as a client on occasion.  But.  Government has never been my immediate world. The exception – a remote one at best – was some federal government contract research work I did before the brain injury, when graduate school loomed large on my horizon (and was the basis for the work in the year or so I planned to take between completing an undergraduate degree and entering a foreign PhD program.

Law school was the option others recommended and I pooh-poohed then with my not-so-clever retort that I was not about to become someone who donned a suit and begged for the loot. Ah, Life. Your flair for irony never ceases to amaze me.

At any rate, the interview went reasonably well. And brought out a wistful moment for if I have any hopes of pursing the “what if” of a third living child leaving my current place of employment is largely out of the question given the medication costs covered by my current benefits plan and those I am almost certain would not be covered under the government plan. Quite apart from that I am fairly confident I would desperately miss having a litigation practice and acting for clients rather than a judge and “the law”, writ large.

In many respects I envision the job for which I applied a stepping stone of sorts — a gateway to other “good government jobs.” Pity about the timing. Not to mention the tens of thousands of dollars (we don’t have) that I would be required to repay my current firm if I leave before one year after my return from maternity leave (you’ve got to love the cajones of private practice law firms, no? Yes this was a condition of my employment.).

Ugh.

I am still waiting to  get a date for our consultation with the western Canadian fertility doc who I am hoping might consider working with Dr. Braverman should we (I) decide to pursue that big what if I wrote about here. Not much to report on this front except that the pangs of desire continue as do the pangs of anxiety and self-doubt about whether this is the path I am meant to follow.

On a happier more charming note I had a delightful night out with the almost-entirely female Board and entirely female staff of the playschool the MT attends recently. (Should I change his moniker here to Miracle Preschooler now? MP stands for Military Police and Member of Parliament where I’m from so to be honest that acronym has less appeal. MT he remains.) The company was purely delightful and reinforced my belief that we make the choices we make in part of free will and in part because of a master plan to which we signed on at some prior point in our spiritual existence (of which we may or may not be aware).

Once in a while my over-commitment pays off not only for others but for my karmic self.  High fives to me for joining that Board.

And now I am up at some ridiculous hour with a baby Azulito who has a pitiable cough and a far less pitiable compulsion to play and further his attempts to master crawling. Or walking (he’s an equal opportunity kind of baby at this point). At 4 a.m.

Remind me why I’m considering another trip to hell and back in the hopes of having another child?

The Unbearable Silence of Being

I apologize for my silence of late. I have been struggling quietly – mostly – and mostly alone with some things for some time. I continue to do so. 

Doing so makes it very challenging for me to blog as these things affect my soul as a parent, as a survivor of infertility and recurrent pregnancy loss. I have been described as a “straight road” – you see what you get and can see where I’m coming from and going – by a close longtime friend. It is difficult for me to engage my candour and feel whole and thus to write from my heart here when my insides are being eaten up with preoccupations about which I cannot write. At least not here. Funny how that is. 

In case you are wondering: Baby Azulito is flourishing. The Miracle Toddler is still testing some limits and sharing what can on occasion only be described as “too much love” with his baby brother. I have healed from the physical effects of two major abdominal surgeries within about a week of each other in June and I continue to have a very hard time staying asleep and continue to endure strange frequent and unsettling dreams almost four months after baby A’s birth. The finances are still a dog’s breakfast (my commitment not to curse on this blog makes a more accurate description challenging). 

I am also experiencing quite profound joint pain which I am inclined to blame on the high daily doses of oral prednisone along with the daily low molecular weight heparin injections I took before and during almost the entirety of baby A’s pregnancy. Both of those drugs rob our bodies of absorbable calcium. I took higher than usual doses of calcium supplements but clearly that was not enough. I need to start taking calcium again. Some mornings it feels as though I have aged 47 years since the summer of 2014.  Yet another unanticipated cost of trying to have another living child. Go figure. 
I cannot presently write here about what is troubling me so I imagine my relative blogging silence will persist. And so, my friends, is how life goes sometimes. 

BUNNIES!!! (And Other, Less Random Good News)

 

This morning after prying open my garage door frozen shut with a recent thaw/freeze cycle I came across not one or two but three large white hares as I made my way to work in the wee hours (necessitated by my spending the day at home yesterday with the Miracle Toddler who was battling a wicked cough and some bug he appears to have caught with the same thaw/freeze cycle).  I have previously written about how I love hares and that I associate them with positive events to come in my fertility/recurrent pregnancy loss journey.  I have even dreamed of hares teaching me things on this journey. 

 

Let’s face it, it’s hard not to love a bunny (unless you’re a farmer or an avid gardener, I suppose).  To spot three of them – and have to stop my vehicle and issue  each of them a warm greeting as I gave them room and time to find a new path to travel safely out of range of mine – within minutes of each other got my day off to an amazing start. 

 

The bunnies also reinforced the good news I got late yesterday from Dr. Braverman. Without further ado, here it is:

 

·         Almost all of my cellular inflammation has come down from the very elevated levels found in my late December blood work. 

·         One notable exception is my level of IL-10, which is a marker for serious third trimester complications for which we are already watching and about which we are already painfully aware. Thankfully my IL-10 level is still hovering at normal range despite having risen. 

·         I am to start halving my dose of Prednisone weekly until I get to 2.5 mg on which I should stay for a final week. 

·         I am to continue weekly Intralipid IV treatments until 28 weeks.

·         No more trips to New York City for blood tests or to pick up Intralipids (smart move on my part stockpiling IL bags during my last trip!).

 

Dr. Braverman’s view is that the aggressive treatment with high Prednisone doses and more frequent Intralipid infusions has made the difference.  In his opinion more immune panel blood work and monitoring will not change the outcome even if I have a further immune flare in the third trimester.  He has asked that I keep him in the loop and feel free to consult him about any new developments even though any medical decisions are mine to make.  All of this means that I do not need to return to New York or make other arrangements to do any more blood work through Reprosource.  That is a relief and another major financial expense eliminated.  This advice of course is premised in part on the promise locally to continue monitoring this pregnancy, my placenta, baby’s growth and development and general wellness and regular testing and monitoring (by me and my local doctors) for those pesky “serious third trimester complications” for which I’ve got plenty of markers.

 

I will be honest.  As much as I am relieved by this news and as much as I despise the side effects of Prednisone, I am afraid to go completely off of it.  Heck, I’m afraid to wean from the 20 mg I am currently taking.  I am afraid of things going sideways.  Nevertheless, I will continue weaning.  I will start early next week (because I just weaned to 20 mg this week).  I  think I may go down from 20 mg to 15 mg first and then to 10 mg, 5 mg and finally 2.5 mg.  I am currently 22 weeks so this will keep me on a low dose of Prednisone past the 24-week mark by which  Dr. Braverman originally wanted to ensure I was off this drug.  Even he acknowledged a while ago I would not get off this drug completely by 24 weeks.  

One of my concerns is that I have had rebound reactions when I’ve dropped too quickly or too much at a time below 20 mg and I would really like to avoid that this time since the stakes here are so much higher than on any other occasion when I’ve taken this steroid.  Plus my OB a few weeks ago speculated that the Prednisone may increase my chances of avoiding a repeat of the Cholestasis I developed in the MT’s pregnancy.  He is not aware of studies confirming that but it’s his gut feeling. And we all know I am rather big on gut feelings.

I need to get back to work and thus bid you all a Happy Humpday for now. I also leave you with some rabbit art I did last year.  Who wouldn’t love this bright and cheery bunny?