Frustration.

I am tired. I am emotionally and physically tired. No matter how hard I try to be normal and feel "better", there always seems to be something that gets in the way. Set backs. Something that keeps me from feeling any ounce of normalcy. It is like I am in this constant battle with my body and I am fed up. I am so sick of having things happen to me. I remember when I used to be able to brag about never have been to a hospital before, about never even breaking a bone before. About how I never got very sick and how I never had anything to worry about. I want to rewind my life and go back to my early twenties. Life was perfect. I was engaged to my husband. We were living in small apartment and kind of poor because I was still in college and working only part time and he was working full time. I thought that was rough. But looking back on it now, I would go back to that place in a heart beat. Sure, we worried about paying rent and bills. We lived pay check to pay check and got creative with Ramen noodles for meals. But we were happy. My body was not this unruly, crazy beast that it is now. It did not betray me. It did what it was supposed to, when it was supposed to, and the biggest issue I had was a back injury from work. Oh, and I had my wisdom teeth removed. That was it.

I had a plan after this last miscarriage to have a carefree summer with my husband. We were going to enjoy each other, have fun, go on a vacation and go to concerts. We did all that, but I couldn't fully enjoy it like I wanted to. I would say it all started in June, or maybe July. I started noticing some odd urinary issues, similar to a UTI. Frequency, spasms, feeling like I had to go and I couldn't, burning (sometimes but not always).  I got urinalysis and culture done and there was no bacteria to be found, except a few white blood cells. Which was odd to me, but they said it could be the presence of something brewing, so they gave me macrobid and told me it should clear up. Well, I never felt completely better. And so I started seeing a urologist who suggested we do a cystoscopy. We did. I was worried something was damaged from my vaginal cerclage injury (not TAC, I wrote about this in one of my first few entries). She said my bladder functioned fine. Things looked normal. So why was I feeling this way? I told her, maybe it's PTSD. I went and finally saw a therapist, thinking maybe talking about it would help. It sort of did. But my symptoms have been persistent. With some days better than others. I had a especially bad day while we were on vacation in Florida last week. So, I called in and asked to have macrobid ordered in for me down there. While I took it, I did feel better. But I was so worried about it all the entire time, I was not myself. It was so frustrating, not being able to enjoy my favorite place with my favorite person, my husband. I looked forward to that trip for months and I felt horrible most of the time we were down there. I finished the prescription yesterday morning and what do you know, my symptoms are back and in full swing. I went in for another urinalysis and I was told I have a low amount of white blood cells but she couldn't prescribe me anything until after the results come back from the lab, which hopefully will happen tomorrow afternoon because it will be Friday.

I feel like this entry is very scatter brained but this is how I feel. I am physically and emotionally tired of being in pain, of worrying, of feeling this way. I can't enjoy anything. It is always on my mind. I felt so bad on our vacation because I was so worried about it the entire time, I literally got so upset I cried..which is what I have also been doing a lot of because I am just so frustrated. I felt bad because it was supposed to be a second honeymoon. I could barely attempt sex because it felt so uncomfortable. All I want to do is enjoy that again. I want to feel like a normal, healthy woman. It has been nonstop issues with me for almost three years now. I am so over it. Some days I don't even want to leave the house because I feel so horrible. I feel like I'm somebody else, that I will never be normal again, that my body is ruined and I'm never going to feel good.

Part of that carefree summer plan was to try again for a baby in September. Well, here we are, two weeks left in September, and I can physically barely tolerate sex. It is like a cruel joke or something. It's me against my body. And my body always wins.