Tuesday, August 28, 2007

The Lupron Effect

For the last week or so I've been meaning to post but the Lupron keeps getting in the way.

I'm back on the BC. It's called "Seasonique" - don't you love it? It sounds like a lovely pill. It's not but it pales in comparison to Lupron. The doctor started me on the BC on 7/20. OK, fine. same weepy, emotional, oversensitivity as before. I can handle that now. Started the Lupron on 8/22- while on vacation at the Outer Banks with the in-laws. How's that for a fun combination?

Let me just say that it was horrible. HORRIBLE. Warning to future Suzanne, do not attempt to mix Lupron with Anorexic Beach Week ever again! In addition to the side effects of the Lupron including nausea, lack of appetite (which isn't a bad thing during Anorexic Beach Week), exhaustion, breast pain, headaches, confusion, growing gills and webbed feet I also started bleeding.

So here's me at the beach with the entire in-law family bopping around and having fun the first day. I tell John, "Sweetie. I feel good. This is going to be the best week ever." By the end of day two I'm cramping something fierce and just want to go to bed. By day three I'm bleeding profusely and passing large blood clots all day. The cramping is so bad I can barely walk. I get a brief reprieve the next day. Still bleeding but not so bad. THEN on the 4Th day of vacation we start the Lupron injections. Things went downhill fast from there. Depression set in. I didn't want to do anything or go anywhere but to bed... or Dairy Queen.

For those not in the know, Lupron must be given with tiny insulin needles, my favorite kind of needle. Here's an interesting fact for future Suzanne. Lupron injections on the left side of the belly don't hurt at all. Lupron injections on the right side of the belly sting. Weird. So the shots are in the belly right around the belly button but not too close. It really, really hurts if you get too close. The injection site burns and itches after. Usually placing an alcohol swab over the site helps with the discomfort, which fades and is gone within the hour.

I can't do the injections myself. I've tried before. Occasionally we'll be in a rush in the morning and John will leave without giving me the injection. I can't make myself do it. It freaks me out. I usually drive into John's work to have him do the shot.

So the Lupron sucks. Now what's going to suck worse is the Lupron Estrace combo. But I'm holding on because in less than a month I get to start the progesterone and that makes everything better. Plus I might actually be pregnant which is the best thing in the whole world.

One fun thing about the Lupron is that I occasionally feel like I have a libido. I think it does something to FSH or FHS levels - forget the order of letters or what they stand for. But it also does something to testosterone levels. Go team. So while I'm intensely evil and short tempered, I also think about sex more. It could be worse.

We're praying for twins or triplets. Feeling somewhat confident about this time. Don't know why. We'll see what happens I guess. Only four more weeks until the transfer and only 7 more weeks until we find out if we're pregnant. Woo hoo.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

The Other Child

Recently I confided to my mom that I sometimes struggle with questions about why God made us Will's parents. Will is our older child, adopted from Russia two years ago. This doubt isn't a symptom of the drugs and has nothing to do with the embryo adoption, rather it has to do with motherhood "at long last."

For years and years and years DH and I prayed, tested, ate organic, tested more, had surgery, took drugs (from a doctor), read, prayed, and over and over our desire for children was thwarted. When our adoption of Will finally worked out we breathed a sigh of relief. I assure you we didn't think things would go perfectly from there on out but we thought we'd get a pretty normal kid that we could be tender loving parents to.

I can't imagine how I must have looked to the people around these last two years. Most of the time I am frazzled, exhausted, and at the edge of my patience. Understand that I know I'm an adult and that I'm responsible for handling my feelings and emotions and temper etc. However, as I admitted to my mom, sometimes I wonder if God couldn't have found better, more appropriate parents for Will.

After I confided in her, she talked to someone and that someone said I should read about attachment disorder. Funny thing is that from day 1 I have been convinced that my son absolutely did not have an attachment disorder. Kids with attachment disorders are commonly (so I thought) cruel, torture animals and small children (for real), light fires, rage against parents - Hilter in his youth.

My child isn't like that. My child is a good boy. He has a conscience. He's kind toward small children and I've only seen him pull the dog's whiskers once. I did much worse things to our cat growing up so pulling whiskers one time doesn't not a sociopath make. However, a neighbor had given me some books about RAD and bonding for adoptive parents, which I wasn't in any hurry to read since our son didn't have RAD but I picked them up after the conversation w/ my mom.

I saw Will in the pages. And I saw myself. Parents of children with RAD are angry, inordinately angry - drained, exhausted, even hostile toward their children. Suddenly I didn't feel so bad about wanting to get away from him. There is a reason.

Over the last two years things have calmed dramatically. But he continues to do things that wear us down. I know, we're parents - big surprise - our kid is draining. Cry me a river. It's hard to explain what I mean but to live with him on a day to day basis saps the life from me.

"The Will Show" starts as soon as he sees me. His good mornings are spoken in a strange, off-putting voice. His hug is stiff and he rubs his face on me. Often he reaches too low or too high with his arms and so I have to redirect him to a more comfortable position for the hug. Then he just starts talking. He talks about what he wants for breakfast, the sun in the sky, what Mr. Cubby is doing, where apples come from. Often in the middle of normal conversations he'll ask a question that cannot be answered and doesn't make sense. For example, when does dirt turn into snow, is it hard to chew wood floors without breaking your teeth, why do frogs grow fur when it's cold inside but not outside. When I try to make sense of his question, always assuming a language barrier because he is ESL, he gets angry and exclaims, "That's NOT what I said. I meant why don't frogs have fur." Which is clearly NOT what he said or even intended to say the first time.

After a fifteen minute conversation I'm ready to shut down. I've been listening at maximum capacity, unable to tune out a single detail because often what he says is unclear or in garbled syntax. I'm constantly translating his English into standard English. Then trying to figure out if he meant what he said or meant to say a different word. Then trying to figure out an answer to the question, which 9 times out of 10 I discover he's not interested in knowing to begin with. Finish all that with his extreme volatility when I ask him for clarification.

In addition to the constant, and I do mean constant jabbering, he likes to make noise. So if he's not chatting about frog fur, he's making noises. The noises differ in length and intensity but they are ever present reminding me that he is ever present lest I forget. It is literally an assault on my hearing the entire time he's within earshot.

When I ask him to complete a task no matter how small, the second he's finished he pops into my face (smell the milk on his breath he's so close) and announces he has competed his task. He demands by word and action my immediate attention. Sometimes he physically pulls at me. Most of the time, if I don't give him my immediate attention he does something negative, against the rules of the house, to try to force me to pay attention to him.

All day he struggles for power and control. We ask, "Do you want milk or water." He answers, "Juice." We stick to our guns but most conversations take much more time than they should.

When I announce we're going to the store he peppers me with constant questions about the trip. Where are we going? Have I been there before? How long will we be there? Will my friends be there? What are we getting? What will it cost? Did you remember to bring money? Can I have candy? What if someone just gives me money, can I buy whatever I want? And so on. It continues through the store as I buy things. What is that? Who is it for? Is it mine? Do I have to share it? How much does it cost? Do you have enough money? What if someone steals it from us? Will it break if I do this? Can I open it now? If I open it now will the store make us not buy it? Can I carry it? It's too heavy; can I put it in the cart? Is it OK if Mr. Cubby is touching it? Will he break it?

He is indiscriminately affectionate with other children and adults. He hugs like crazy - everyone. He came home from camp last week reeking of perfume because he was hanging all over a counselor. He's gotten in trouble for kissing kids in class. He touches people too, not in a sexual way but in a creepy way. Plays with the hair of the kids in front of him in line. Touches or rubs shirts, belts, swimming suits. It's a little creepy especially when I imagine he could turn into an old man with these habits.

That said, I do love him but it's hard to FEEL love for him and the thing is, sometimes you really have to feel love in order to truly bond with a person. I'm not holy enough to bond with a repellent person. I can tolerate but I can't bond. The books I'm reading say all of this can be fixed. And like I said in the beginning, we've come a very long way. But tonight I felt like sharing the downs that most people don't see.

It seems like a lot of people judge me and my husband harshly because of our relationship with our son. We're very strict and structured. But we've found that it is best for him if we are. He's more calm when he knows what we expect, what to expect from us, from his life. Most people don't get that. Most people also don't get that we'd rather be tender-loving parents. But before we can do that, we have to have a son that trusts us.

NOTE: Added 10/3/07 - While there may well be some residual attachment problems and a lot of insecurity (can you blame him) further research has led us to decide that Will probably doesn't have an attachment disorder. It's more likely to be a sensory integration problem. The thing with all these things - RAD, ADHD, SID, Tourette's, Asburger's, Autism - have overlapping symptoms/ behaviors. We took Will in early on for evaluations and everyone said that he seems to be adjusting and attaching well but those exhausting, sometimes repellent behaviors that we see all day aren't getting better. So we continue to search for answers... because we love him and we want to help him. And we want to be better parents to him.