Yep, it's begun ...

I think I'm too used to going through these treatments.

While reading blogs I've found through Lost and Found, I see myself in so many ways. Except it's a version of me from earlier this year or last year.

One poster used a term I came to know back in March - BM / AM. Before miscarriage, after miscarriage; how you and your life was before the miscarriage and then how it was after. Because, in case you've never been through it, you really do mark time and thoughts to before and after. Even if you don't do it out in the open, you still do it without really noticing.

Something else ...

Sometimes I wonder if, in my efforts to stifle some of the pain that comes with IF, I haven't managed to pretty much squish it.

Because I read blogs and message boards full of pain. And anguish. A heartache that I instantly recognize and relate to. One that feels comfortable and homey. It's a pain I know. And when I read them, my heart aches right along with theirs.

And when my mind turns to my own? I can feel the tenseness in my jaws, the heat in my face, and the tightness in my chest. Then I take a deep breath and turn my mind elsewhere.

When it's time for the shots, I don't think about the reason for them. Just that I have to do it and I have to do it by a certain time. I've stopped attaching hopes and wants and dreams to them. The repeated end result was always too painful to invest so much into. And if someone tries to talk to me about it, I usually give the generic answers and pray they drop the subject.

At the same time, though, my life is all consumed by IF while I'm going through the treatments. No matter how much I try not to think too much, it's always there. I'm counting days and shots - how many, what kind, and for how long. Then when is the iui and how much daily PIO? How many days for this and that and then the two week wait. I more actively research and surf for information. I look for those bonds that helps me know I'm not alone and that someone out there truly knows exactly what I'm feeling. I have a tendency to withdraw from others more - too many people around me is suddenly too much (mark this as a definite AM thing). All without conciously acknowledging the obsession that's taken over.

Which can't be healthy. But is it any worse than the alternative? I don't want to be a weepy mess, but I know there are days when I must seem completely unstable. I just don't want the unstable days to overshadow the ok ones. And how do I do that without quashing it all?

Maybe it just really is that when we're ok, we're ok. But when we're not, we're really really not. Or maybe we're generally ok ... until the day it's all just too much and we spend the time in our beds or with mute faces staring at a tv screen. Or maybe we're not. We're just good at faking it.

I don't know. And I'm sure I probably never will.

I know there are two things I want, though.

I want to plant a tree. Hokey, isn't it? But that's what I want. A tree - a nice tree that won't get too big but will have pretty flowers in the spring or fall. I want to plant it in the front yard of the house we're redoing as non-ugly reminder of the baby we lost (really, can pretty and "baby we lost" be in the same sentence??). The word reminder is wrong, but I don't want to say dedication because that's not right either. I dunno ... acknowledgement? Nod? Whatever. I want a tree.

And I want a tattoo. Ok, another tattoo. At first I thought I'd get something abstract, like my birth sign. But after seeing A Common Thread, I've changed my mind. I want something that marks what we've been through. IF is a part of me. It's had a lot of influence and it's left scars. And even if (when) we have a baby of our own, it'll still be a part of me. So I'm going to take the Common Thread thought and turn it into a tattoo. It'll be a few weeks (girl's gotta get paid), but I'll post a picture when it's done.

Gaw ... I so didn't intend to throw all this out there.