If I were doing a wine pairing of crap one has to deal with, I would pair infertility with something more tolerable. Bunions, perhaps. A sprained wrist. I would not, however, pair it with Bipolar Disorder. That’s like pairing a cheap merlot with…a plate full of old socks filled with maggots. Yeah, I know. Gross. And pretty awful. But, I’m hoping it’s manageable.
I’ve not been about lately (obviously) and a good portion of that has to do with the most recent diagnosis from the doc. I’ve now crossed the threshold into being Bipolar. For those of you that don’t really know what that means (I didn’t, I just thought I was having awesome party time) basically, some of your life you’re just normal. Not super high, not super low. But then, you’ll have a manic episode, which in my case consisted of me not sleeping for a few days, a certainty that I was in fact pregnant, and a lot of other crap that is more crazy than I care to share. In the high, you don’t feel bad. You feel AWESOME (well, for awhile, then it gets to be too much). But, as all things have their counter, I crashed. Hard. Every bit of energy that was expended during my manic phase, I now owed my body, my mind went from super-positive-happy-hopeful to there’snomeaningtoanyofthiswhydoweevenbother. Basically a 180. So, thanks to the wisdom of a few friends, I decided to go to the doctor about it.
I’m pretty lucky in being a very conscious kind of crazy. It’s kind of like I know that I’m going crazy, but I can’t control it, but that awareness keeps me from some of the more dangerous aspects that happen to people on both ends of the spectrum. It also helped in talking about treatment options and trying to find a place for it in my life (since it’s going to be there whether I like it or not). The Doc put me on some pretty heavy meds to pull me out of where I was, but it’s not recommended for pregnancy, so I got to take a rush HCG test. Which meant it only took 2 hours to get a nice, definitive kick to the balls with a “No, sorry, it’s under 2”. Dealing w/ the confirmation of the bipolar, and having such a concrete negative was a pretty significant blow to my system. I pretty much slept the next 3 days away (thanks mostly to the meds she gave me, but also out of sheer desperation for escape). When I wasn’t asleep, I was bitch of the world. (So, apologies, friends, whom I’ve completely neglected to call, respond to emails, or talk in person to).
Now the question is, how to deal with BPD and infertility (I should note I also got the FABULOUS news that even w/ prometrium and clomid there was no ovulation. FML). I have that appointment w/ an RE on November 17, and I’m hoping that he can help, though I’m really not looking forward to all the testing. I’m really going to try and keep this managed w/ lifestyle changes, and I’ve given myself a pretty heavy ultimatum.
So, yeah. Life is shit. I have to say, I’m pretty tired of the whole God kicking you while you’re down crap. But you know what God? I’m down, but I’m not out, and you don’t even want to know what you’ve messed with at this point. I’m coming back fighting.