Monday, September 16, 2013

40 Days of Prayer for a Baby | Day 1

I've started a 40-day prayer today. It's something that my mother's brought to me, something that her best friend's grandmother vows upon. And I imagine if... IF... it works, I might be able to share it with the world.

Dear Allah, this month I pray to you for specific, this month I pray to you every moment of every day. This month as I pick myself back up, please see my strength and hear my lament. This month, as I wear this thread around my tummy, as I move away to pray five times a day, as I whisper Surat Maryam to my heart every day, please Allah, hear me pray...


Sunday, September 15, 2013

Confession

I'm going to be honest. I had given up on faith a long time ago. I just couldn't see reason of life or death or anything in between or beyond. I won't talk about the reasons for now because that's what they will remain, reasons that led to something worse. A hopeless beginning. But it was a dark path, one where I couldn't find any hope, hope that only faith could have given me.
There were so many times I wanted to come back to it, but I just couldn't find a way, emotionally, mentally or physically. I wouldn't pray, fasting had became a habit, I couldn't get myself to listen to prayer and recitation and feel the same warmth as I had felt at some point in my life. I was lost. There was a constant quiver my heart felt, some anxiety that I fail to explain. Even though I call myself a Muslim, I knew I wasn't being one. And I envied people who truly were. They didn't need any proof or evidence, they're all hell bent strong on their beliefs, nothing can shake them. I was..am..so envious at their steadfastness, like they're so sure of life, so sure of their God and that He would swoop in to rescue them from every single thing and emotion that even if He didn't, they'd wait for as long as it'd take. This strength was..is..enviable. And yet I couldn't find it within me.

And almost as vague as being lost had been, I found my way back. It may or may not have something to do with being so adamantly set on being a home maker and a great mom all of my life only to go through 5 years of TTC in vain and then being diagnosed with PCOS and accepting that I really may never be able to be a mother naturally. Maybe I had to reach the lowest emotionally to finally see the light above. I can't say.
Pick one

But I did find light. Today, and I don't know how, I've returned to prayer with all honesty. I don't have any other choice. I can't fight PCOS alone. I need to have that unshattering faith and strength to get me through.

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

No. You weren't made to give up. so don't.

So you're telling me that medically my body can't have a baby. That medically, my ovaries aren't good enough and I've got to eat different, live different, think different in order to survive better? And that medically, things won't be easy? That this is going to be it? At 29, this is going to be how I'll have to live the rest of my life?

Well... NO! I refuse to feel this miserable. I refuse to give in. God isn't punishing me and neither will I. "I" deserve more, I deserve better too. I WILL eat chocolate because that makes me feel better. I will not think that I am infertile. I will not live as a diabetic. I WILL have a baby. Maybe not today, or next month but I WILL. SOON.

I will NEVER leggo :)

Friday, September 6, 2013

Dealing with Depression during PCOS & Infertility

Today, like many other days since my diagnosis, I am in a difficult place. I cannot get my mind to accept or understand some things in life. I have a ton of work in office right now which I cannot focus on. I don't know how I'm going to meet my deadlines at work. Seriously.

I think I've over obsessed my want to have a baby, scratching at the question 'why not' but in all this time I feel I've lost my true optimism towards the circle of life. I hate my infertile body. Even if I spend tons of money and time over fertility treatments, majority of the time, they don't work for people. There's no guarantee. How miserable am I going to be if all attempts fail too? Should I just accept that it's not meant to be. How do I accept? Maybe God's right after all. I don't deserve to be a mother.

And then I stumbled on this blog post and the third paragraph just spoke to me. That is at least how miserable I feel. I think I'm going to get this book that the blogger talks about and see if I can find any answers there.

I know I'm not alone in this and that happier days always follow the bad, but right now, it's a pretty dark pit down here.

"No one saying who was good enough, or devoted enough to deserve children.  The ability to have children is medical.  Some people can’t see, some can’t walk, some can’t talk, some can’t make insulin, some can’t think without hearing voices…. and some can’t make babies.  Period.  It’s that simple.  It’s not a punishment.  People don’t get to have children because they are better than others, or more devote, they just get to have children because medically, they can."

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Diabetic Dieting for PCOS

Day 1: fail
Day 2: fail
Day 3: fail
Day 4: fail
Day 5: fail
Day 6: fail
Day 7: fail

This is not working out for me *sigh*

Friday, August 30, 2013

The Journey Ahead

After several tests and the unsolicited confirmation that I have PCOS, I went to see my doctor yesterday to discuss the treatment plan. In a way I was looking forward to it because I really wanted to have some questions answered. I feel there is so much information available on the internet, especially for someone like me who is so new to understanding and accepting this, that it is just an irrelevant overload.

As a beginner, I've understood that there is no one type of PCOS and while it is commonly believed for it to be associated with weight gain, it actually affects people like me, a 'thin cyster' whose weight has somewhat remained constant throughout. In fact, my doctor said it is harder to manage 'thin cysters' whose dominant solution does not come from losing weight.

I left the doctor's office a little dejected though because a) my nervousness clouded my ability to speak or ask all the questions in my head and b) she prescribed me Glucophage/Metformin and stressed that I should follow a diabetic diet and exercise. She said she wouldn't put so much stress on my body at this point by giving me pills to control my cycle or anti-depressants and that I should just stick with the basic plan for 6-9 months. She also said that I should put away any thought of conceiving for now because even if I do, I'll miscarry because of my 'mental state'. That's mean don't you think.

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Acceptance

If someone asked me what the saddest moment in my life was, I'd say it wasn't a moment but a part of my life. My life is divided in two; the half when I had always planned how I'd raise my children and the other half when I found out I couldn't be a mother.

When you find out about infertility, it isn't difficult or saddening, it's excruciating to the very core of your heart.


Thursday, August 15, 2013

Teal is not just a color anymore

On August 06, 2013 after five years of TTC, normal test results and unexplained infertility, I was diagnosed with PCOS.That entire day and the following night I cried, not for the first time, but with a new found pain that ached my insides to the core. A part of me wanted to admit to the flicker of relief, the 'name' to the turmoil I had been feeling those past five years, the frustration of not knowing 'why' we couldn't have children like every other couple, of 'why' it couldn't happen if everything came back 'normal'. But that relief was so small, so weak that it couldn't have surfaced through the dominating anchor.

Today, I feel like I've just returned wounded from a battle of fighting the unknown only to hear that I must return to the field again.

This moment now, I have to learn how to find courage again, to rediscover faith. I must learn to accept that I have PCOS, Vitamin D deficiency, Hyperthyroidism and find the will to fight it.

But for now, I will give myself a little time to accept, a little moment to mourn.