Maybe If You Just Relax.

People will tell you

Relax.

Don't try so hard.

Things happen

When you least expect it.

But,

I'm still out there

Searching

For the unattainable

Miles and miles from home.

I am Pelé

Leave me be.

Isolated.

A scratchy mantle

Like a shield

Covering my damaged surface ~

Cracked outer shell.

My dome appearance

Outwardly

Solidifying

To crusty cool.

Raging inside.

Million bits bursting

Blistered

Burning

Engulfed in flames

Spitting searing sparks.

Most active

Mountainous perception.

Massive internal swelling,

Nature's course.

Time's indication,

Violent expulsion,

Through that cursed gaping hole.

Down deep

Melting hot

Lava flow

Escaping from caverns below.

Unstoppable river force

Heavy

Thick

Slow-moving

Molten Red.

Stress intensity ~

Telltale sign

Towards consistent eruption occurrence.

Immense proportion

Causing great damage

Along its violent pathway

Vaporizing fragile landscape.

All life lost.

Copyright ©2008 Sarah B. Paquette

Baby Train

As a self-proclaimed writer, it is not easy to admit the following information. I am all out of words these days. Nothing a thesaurus or incessant contemplation can fix, I'm afraid.

Mother's day came and went. I spent it with DH at the flea market and picked up a few trinkets. There were small children and mothers EVERYWHERE.

With that being my current state, there still is this...this feeling inside that I'm dying to express. I found a short poem that seems to fit the circumstance. It helped to read it. a little. But the pain is still there and hopefully tomorrow will be fresh...with more captivating vocabulary.

The journey from infertility to family,
someone once said,
is like taking a train ride;
Never knowing whether
you'll reach your desired destination.

There are plenty of stops along the ride.
And each of the passengers
makes it's own decision
when its time to get off.

Some never need to take the train.
Others ride it for a lifetime.
But whether you reach your destination or not,
pay attention to the journey.
If you will,
as painful as it is,
it may reward you in unexpected ways.

New York, December 2000

(c) 2000 Ronen Divon, All Rights Reserved.

Hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive my lax posting.

Insanity: A Memoir.

Insanity

Highly Overrated,

Simply Disturbing.

The Ultimate Revolution!

Letting Go.

Out of my mind.

Unfeigned Enlightenment.

Shooby Do Wop Wop Shooby Do.

Endless Memories,

Sporadic Thoughts.

Plumb Tuckered Out,

Amusing Label.

I am the Walrus Goo Goo G'Joob.

Silent Struggle.

Back To Bed.

Copyright ©2007 Sarah B. Paquette

Cycle

Intense Anticipation.

Apprehension.

Hope.

Familiar Feeling.

Unwarranted.

Unwanted.

Emergent Pain.

Strain.

Reluctance.

Blood Drips.

Denial.

Disappointment.

Silent Struggle.

Smile.

Cope.

Inward Flow.

Solemn.

Swear.

Start Over.

Wait.

See.

Intense Anticipation.

Apprehension.

Hope.

Familiar Feeling.

Unwarranted.

Unwanted.

Emergent Pain.

Strain.

Reluctance.

Blood Drips.

Denial.

Disappointment.

Silent Struggle.

Smile.

Cope.

Inward Flow.

Solemn.

Swear.

Start Over.

Wait.

See.

Intense Anticipation.

Apprehension.

Hope.

Copyright ©2008 Sarah B. Paquette


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I wrote this piece feeling utter despair when month after month, my medicated treatments were not working. I'm not sure if I expected some sort of a miracle to take place once I ingested a tiny pill that joggled my brain and made me feel plum crazy all of the time. Clomid was a beast.

I remember posting this poem on a myspace blog and getting a response from someone that said something like "They always say when you let go of the control and realize it's out of your hands is the moment it happens....Relax...." I also remember feeling very angry and wanting to punch something after reading that. Of course, I did not learn my lesson and posted similar entries only to get similar remarks and want to punch things again.

I just heard from Dr. B's nurse. My hCG levels are steadily decreasing...from 659 to 544. I'm to go for repeat b/w next Wednesday. I suppose that I should feel relief that my life is getting back on track, but I'm still very sad about this experience and even now just want to sleep right through it.

The Flood

The flood. The flood.

The flood of blood forming a radiant halo of red that surrounds my little angel encased in swollen fleshy pipe. Heaven is right where we are standing and is all you will ever know.

The flood. The flood.

The flood of clear liquid pouring over my puffy pincushion organ, with petite fingers waving and bleeding as if pricked by those needles of sharp steel, comparable to the dagger of his blank stare that pierced my pleading gaze forever implanted in time.

The flood. The flood.

The flood of emotion ~ an outpour of despair, frustration, anger, anguish and regret. Why us? Why now? Why ever? Why me?

The flood. The flood.

The flood of sterile medicine water coursing its way through my bluish veins destined to kill what pulses and grows inside me. I was responsible for creating it and then sweeping it all away.

The flood. The flood.

The flood of tears uncontrollably streaming down my tired face, leaving crusty steaks of sticky salt, forming a death mask, filling my heart with grief as tiny images of what could have been inundate my woeful mind.

The flood. The flood.

The flood is wreaking havoc along its disastrous path, bursting its way through my sacred temple, eliminating any evidence of life within, yet I continually inhabit areas threatened by flood damage since repeated periodic flooding brings me even closer to you.

Copyright ©2009 Sarah B. Paquette


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2/4 - Beta = 112 hCG, 11 P4
2/6 - Beta = 284 hCG
2/10 - Beta = 275 hCG - ectopic pregnancy
2/11 - Beta = 386 hCG - Methotrexate shot

I bent over a cold examining chair yesterday to be injected twice in my upper ass with methotrexate…10 days ago I was told I was pregnant. 2 days ago I was told it was ectopic ~ the baby is growing in my right tube. 2 years of trying…and it finally happens. The wrong way. I was responsible for creating this life and then I was responsible for killing it. Sign here on the dotted line. omyfuckinggod.

I cried heavily throughout the entire process. I tightly grasped my husband's hand. The nurse hugged us afterward. It was over. I went home. The end. Or is it?

I fucking hate infertility. I’m sick and tired of people telling me to relax, that god will answer our prayers, or that maybe if we took a vacation, it will just happen…PLAH! I feel like utter shit and look like utter shit. I missed work this week. I need time to grieve.

Eventually, the sun shining through my window will be welcome. Afterall, we only get this one life to live. And I’ll be damned if I let infertility take over mine completely. Until then...I'm pulling down the blinds.

Little Bird Lost

Little Bird, wildly fluttering underneath greasy axles,

Where will you go today?

Large flakes of snow drift down,

Sky gray eminence yields icy penalty for those who venture forth.

Little Bird, seeking shelter in the shadowy gloom,

How do you remain calm?

Patiently awaiting proper shelter from the storm,

The crisp air aching chilly bones in its frigid grasp.

Little Bird, flapping and dancing with freezing wings,

Why so aloof?

So tiny and insignificant in the grand scheme of things,

Polar temperatures could kill yet not a care in the world.

Little Bird, frosty beak chirping sluggishly,

Who is your inspiration?

With gentle tweets, singing sweet in vain,

Sounds drowned out while the crystal flakes accumulate.

Little Bird, downy feathers frozen stiff,

When will you find a way home?

The ominous blizzard hails a solid greeting of what’s to take place,

A tempestuous arctic blast seeks permanence where there is no refuge.

Little Bird, subservient portion of nature,

What is your secret for survival?

Life can be so cold for those with no warm memories.

Shivers and quivers prove futile to keep the spark alive.

Little Bird, your fragile anatomy is all there is

Without question.

Be careful, Little Bird. Wintry weather deems you fair game.

Proceed with caution while taking flight.

Copyright ©2008 Sarah B. Paquette


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2/2 - Beta = 52 hCG, low estrogen/P4
2/4 - Beta = 112 hCG, 11 P4
2/6 - Beta = 284 hCG

I had an appointment for b/w first thing this morning. We got to The Center later than usual. There was some last minute packing to do. We're heading to PA to visit my family this weekend. My niece is being baptized and I am her godparent. I've been looking forward to this weekend for months and now it's finally here. Little did I know that I'd also be looking forward to this day for other reasons as well...My b/w results.

The nurse called at 3:00 with a bit of hesitation in her voice. She seemed scattered and a bit apprehensive as though she were about to wreak havoc on my otherwise "good day." She rambled, I started drifting off and then came the number - 284. We were looking for it to double from Wednesday's reading and it did just that...and a little bit more. Hoorah!

B/w and u/s scheduled for Tuesday, Feb 10th. Hopefully, there will be even better news...until then...I'm going to celebrate with Cran-raspberry juice and sparkling mineral water. Cheers!

Baby Steps

So many people, so little time.

Make a decision, knowing there's mountains to climb.

Is it my turn? Am I prepared?

I'm really not sure; I'd say that I'm scared.

Angelic faces, parents aglow,

Cute little duckies all in a row.

One of them here and one of them there,

Can't look away, not meaning to stare.

Booties, frilly dresses, tiny mittens and caps,

Dollies and bum bums and buggies with flaps.

Darling, all-natural organic cotton clothes,

Everywhere I look - sweet button noses, fingers, and toes.

Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies.

Avoiding the topic, stifling my cries.

Please no offense when I tell you it's true.

The incessant inquiries are making me blue.

Put up a front, smile, and nod.

I'm getting quite good at this uncomfortable façade.

Go to the doctor and hope for the best.

I must get some sleep; give my mind a good rest.

Mom had four children, Gram Sophie had three.

Didn't give it much thought, wouldn't happen to me.

Feeling a bit stressed, with not much to tell,

Am I infertile? I try not to dwell.

Should I be concerned? Maybe this isn't for me.

I enjoy my independence; it's fun to be free.

Don't tempt fate, listen to my own advice.

Wish things were different; answers to my questions would be nice.

Blood tests and prescriptions, and check-ups galore.

This doesn't seem right, is there really something more?

31 and counting, so little time.

Made the decision, more mountains to climb.

Copyright ©2008 Sarah B. Paquette

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2/2 - Beta = 52 hCG, low estrogen/P4
2/4 - Beta = 112 hCG, 11 P4

Well, I got some semi-promising news from the RE this afternoon. My beta levels more than doubled this time and I'm advised to stay on progesterone and get b/w again on Friday. I suppose that I should feel more excited; however, I'm not getting my hopes up...in self-preservation mode, I guess.