by Band Back Together | Aug 27, 2016 | Anxiety, Coping With Divorce, Divorce, Fear, Feelings, How To Help A Friend With Infertility, In Vitro Fertilization, Infertility, IUI, Loneliness, Sadness, Stress |
Coping with infertility can be an incredibly isolating experience.
This is her story:
Anyone who has been through IVF or any type of infertility treatments can vouch for how isolating it is. The time period where I spent all of my energy and focus on trying to conceive were the most lonely times of my life. Sure, yes, you’re with a partner, but as only woman knows, creating life is entirely a maternal thing.
I could sit here and tell you my story, which would take all day. And believe me, I LOVE to talk. But to spare you, I’ll give you the short version.:
I went through approximately 6 1/2 years of infertility, on and off. It killed my first marriage, and with my second marriage, it definitely took its toll, but we had our limits. Our last attempt was a Frozen Embryo Transfer (or FET for you newbs or n00bs if you prefer leet speak). We both decided, for our mental health and our marriage, that this was it. If it didn’t work, we were going to become the crazy animal people in our neighborhood. There probably would have been weird things like ferrets and tegus.
But it worked. And we were…shocked. That’s the thing about fertility treatments, when they actually work, you feel like you pulled off a bank heist.
Cut to four years later, and we now have two healthy children, one, who was a big old natural surprise. We call her the Matlock baby. Because we joke that we had ten minutes before Matlock started, and well, you get the rest.
But my point to this is, that going through it, I felt…depression doesn’t even begin to cover it. The first time around, I felt as if I had this blanket of sadness wrapped around me, that I couldn’t take off. Ever. The second time around, I found solace in the internet. It wasn’t so taboo! I had people I could talk to. Blogs I could read. But it taught me two things:
One, you are not alone. Not by a long shot.
Approximately 7.5 [million] women are affected by infertility.
Two, use your voice. Educate.
I feel no embarrassment or shame in telling people that we had a hard time conceiving, or that my son was conceived via In-Vitro Fertilization. Was I ashamed that my body failed me? Yes, for a while, but it wasn’t my fault. So I tell people. I talk about it, and 70-80% of the time, someone will chime in, “ME TOO!” It opens doors. It helps us to find others like us. And it also helps to educate people that don’t understand what its like. When we were going through treatment, a good friend of mine was so interested in the process. She would watch me inject medication. She would ask questions. Some people will always be ignorant, but by and large, people are just uneducated about the topic.
Please don’t be afraid to speak up. Don’t be ashamed. Lastly, don’t isolate yourself.
by Band Back Together | Jun 13, 2016 | Loss, Pet Loss, Sadness, Service Animals |
After he started getting sick in November 2015, and multiple vets treating him, and special diets, and over $5000 in medical costs, he was too sick, so I let him go in February. I thought I was okay.
I’m not.
Everyone misses him, remembers him, asks about him. His ashes are up on that shelf, sitting there. He never sat, unless we were at work and then he sat and was so damn good. He kept my blood sugar from going low, he kept my blood sugar from going too high; he kept me sane.
He was my Herbert. The best service dog. Ever.
Why does it still hurt? Why do I still feel so heart-hurt? And worst of all – why isn’t it fucking getting better? Is it because he was only four fucking years old? Or is it because he died due to a stupid goddamned ridiculous grass barb embedding itself into his esophagus? Of course, we didn’t know that until the necropsy.
People who have lost a pet seem to think they understand, I have lost quite a few pets throughout my life and it hurts, and I grieved; but this feels so different. He was with me 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Now I feel alone.
by Band Back Together | May 6, 2016 | Abandonment, Abuse, Adult Children of Mentally Ill Parents, Anger, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Grief, Loneliness, Mental Health, Parent Loss, Parenting, Sadness |
Mental Illnesses are prevalent in our world. They greatly affect not only the individual involved, but the people around them. In the month of April, we focus our spotlight on Mental Health, in order to heal together and break down stigmas.
We want your stories. How has your own, or someone else’s mental illness affected your life? How are you rising above stigmas?
Please share your stories with us during the month of April.
Mum,
I am supposed to be heartbroken.
…and I am, but not for the reasons other people think.
When you go – I will mourn the life that could have been – the life you could have had, the life WE could have had; not the car crash it was – leaving nothing but broken people and devastation in its wake.
I will be sad for the “what if” and the “what could have been,” not the actuality. I’m not sad for the reality.
The reality is that your passing will set me free – to a certain extent – from my ‘you’ prison. I’ll still have to continue contending with the prison I built for myself, I know that, but, the direct pain of you will be no more.
People try to share with me, which is sweet and kind but, it makes me squirm and knocks my very thin rope of sanity a little. They tell me about their own experiences of losing a parent or grandparent and how sad they were and how they are there for me. They share things with me which they think will make me feel better – and it would – in an alternate universe, where you weren’t so horrible, and I wasn’t so messed up.
I kind of lie, and say ’“Thank you,” and pretend that I’m cut up about it, like they are about their own relatives passing, and I lie, and I lie, and I lie. Once again, I’m the weird outsider watching the world be normal while I’m in my own little weirdness bubble. What else can I say to them?
“Thanks so much for your kind words and your thoughts and wishes but, please – don’t waste them. She never loved me, and in turn, I’ve built a wall 7 feet tall. I spent my whole life trying to make her love me and it never worked, no matter what I did. This is not a normal ‘daughter losing her mother’ thing, so please – don’t hurt yourself remembering something painful to you in order to help me. Please, please don’t. ”
Sometimes I think I should cry, to look normal.
I nearly did cry the other day. I couldn’t bear to touch your skin with mine so I held your hand through the blanket, and you squeezed it. You squeezed my hand.
It was like throwing a starving person one sugar-free mint. Something wonderful and warm and meaningful but, at the same time empty – and too little – and far too late.
You hang on. Wasting away. I can almost identify every bone in your body. You rarely speak. You rarely wake now. Your body is breaking down, and even the nurses are praying you pass before the really ugly stuff starts happening.
But, you hang on …and on …and on…
I’m sorry you never got the life you wanted mum. I’m sorry it was so hard. I’m sorry you struggled with your own mind from childhood, and I’m sorry you made such awful, terrible, harmful choices. I’m sorry you experienced horrific things, and I’m sorry no one was ever there to protect you.
But, I’m angry you left me. You abandoned me whilst still being in front of me. I’m angry, sad, lost and hurt that you ignored me and chose others so much more favorably over me. The things you did to me, and said to me, and put me through were unforgivable. Some of the things still make me gasp a bit when I remember them because they were so cold and hard and callous; designed to hurt me and humiliate me and separate me. How could a mother treat their child like that?
I guess I don’t want other people’s sympathy because it’s not right. I’m not grieving over the prospective loss of you because, I’ve already been grieving your loss.
…since forever.
Safe journey, Mum.
by Band Back Together | May 1, 2016 | Anger, Anxiety, Cancer and Neoplasia, Coping With Cancer, Denial, Feelings, Health, Sadness |
Have you ever lost something that you held dear?
Maybe a favorite piece of jewelry? Time? A friend?
My mother-in-law lost her battle with cancer just a few weeks short of my second wedding anniversary. She was an amazing woman. And I’m not just saying that. Everybody adored her. When you think of the ideal mom, that was her. She had a ton of friends that sang her praises. She volunteered with the American Cancer Society to drive elderly people that couldn’t drive to medical appointments and to run errands. She would do anything for anybody. Thoughtful, warm, beautiful smile.
Clearly, she was not a likely candidate for cancer!
Clearly God wouldn’t tear an angel from our hearts!
But we were wrong. Less than a year before her death, she was diagnosed with cancer.
Religion doesn’t play a huge role in my life. It is important to me, and I pray and thank God every night for our blessings. My mom’s best friend, a practicing Christian and strong believer, once told me, “God doesn’t care where you worship him as long as you worship him.”
So I prayed. I prayed that she would get better. I prayed that chemotherapy and radiation would work. I prayed the homeopathic treatments that she tried would work. I prayed for a miracle. I tried to bargain with God. If he let her live, I would never do X, Y, or Z again. If he let her live, I’d be a better person.
A few months before she passed, it was clear she wasn’t getting better. And that’s when I started to get mad. Why would God take someone so loved by so many? Someone that had not even met her son’s children yet? But I continued to pray.
Up until the night we got the call that she had passed away. We had been over to see her earlier that day, and knew that she was getting worse. We knew what was coming. We got to say that we loved her, and spoke to her privately. When we got the call that she was gone, I was shocked that she had actually died. I expected my miracle.
And I was pissed. Pissed off at God. All those prayers? They meant nothing. Why would he take someone that was so loved by so many people? There are thousands of murderers, rapists, and child molesters that deserve death – why not take one of them?
WHY, WHY, WHY?
The prayers stopped. I ignored him when I heard him trying to “talk” to me. Religion? Obviously a joke. Why believe in HIM if he can’t even help when you asked for it. There was no lesson to be learned. No epiphany to wait for. There was just sorrow and grief.
IT WAS NOT FAIR.
Does time really heal all wounds? I think it does. Because ever so slowly, over that first year after her death, I started to listen to him again. And I started to pray…occasionally. And when I invited him back into my life because I missed him, he gladly accepted me with open arms.
I still haven’t figured out the “why,” and I still don’t know what I was supposed to learn from her death.
Maybe I never will.
But I am glad I found my faith again.
by Band Back Together | Apr 27, 2016 | Child Abuse, Coping With Domestic Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Murder, Pet Loss, Sadness |
I came home once to find one of my daughter’s most loved fish in the toilet. I was sad for her, and very worried the little fishy might accidentally come back up. I didn’t want that to be traumatic for the kids, so I flushed it again. The fishy wriggled ALIVE and went down with the water. I was horrified!
Abusive Husband was very angry, and demanded to know what the EFF my dumb ass was thinking. I asked, “But why was it in the toilet?” He said it looked like it was going to die, but the cold water must have revived it. He made big deal to my daughter about it, saying that I was careless and killed her pet.
I was so sad I just wanted to slip through the floorboards. I was so confused. I was always messing stuff up. I would never have hurt her.
Thankfully, my daughter doesn’t remember it at all, even though it was just a few years ago. It must have been so awful for her, that she has blocked the memory.
The other kids remember Abusive Husband putting beloved fish in the toilet as a threat to force them to do things, “or else”. Or, he would do it just to terrorize them into a panic, when he was bored while I was at work. I asked them, “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have gone toe to toe with him over one tiny mean comment to any of you kids!!”
“Exactly Mom, he was going to kill you if we told.”
by Band Back Together | Mar 25, 2016 | Abuse, Anger, Breakups, Marriage Problems, Sadness |
Shit.
That’s all I’m thinking. Shit. I’m pissed.
… I don’t know why you don’t get it, are you stupid? You pretending to be naive? No… maybe not?
You ask me to skype, see my family… I-don’t-want-to.
It’s been around 9 months since I stormed out of your house, remember that night? That you were towering over me… beating me up as my son cried in the other room. Don’t yet? I wish I didn’t have to. Because that’s all I think about when we e-mail or text.
You complain you haven’t seen my son… but do you hear me complaining about you being a shitty mom? A shitty support system? A shitty person to me? Do you hear me complaining right now about how much lack of care you STILL show over my emotions? How fucking selfish you still are?
And you wonder why I’m pissed at you…
I live a sea away, and I still sometimes feel your grip over me… Your constant pressure to have me answer your questions, constant pressure over your emotions threatening to drown me.
Drowning… Sometimes I feel like I’m trapped inside this little bottle. I can’t speak of whats wrong… You’re whats wrong. And I can’t even shoo you away.
Do you ever ask me how I’m doing? How I’m handling my new marriage? Have you ever had the courage to speak about the things you have done to me? The way you have hurt me?
No, all you are crazy about is seeing my son. And that’s why I deny it to you! I scheduled to skype tomorrow, and I am not going to! Because you’re a shitty person and I am PISSED off.
Because whenever I think of making you happy, I remember the times you put your foot down so I could be unhappy, so I could be drowned with more exhaustion, so I could be more lost.
Because you never made the effort to really help me!
You know what? I’m beginning to not care about you. Not care about what happened. I’m beginning to actually move on, but not forget! Don’t think yourself lucky this time, because to me, you’re growing to be a stranger… A bad one at that.
In your eyes I am completely evil. But remember, this is what you showed me to be.
