For the last several months I have undergone Lupron therapy as a followup to a a laparoscopy I had back in June for infertility/endometriosis.
Knowing what I know now I would have never agreed to the Lupron therapy. I knew that there was a definite possibility of emotional/mental side effects which is why I chose to do the month to month shot, in case something went wrong I could stop after the first shot.
I could handle the physical side effects of Lupron without much trouble, who doesn’t enjoy a good hot flash now and then? But the feelings that came with Lupron were so subtle that I didn’t even realize what had happened to me until the drug had swallowed me into a black inky devastating fog, and by then it was too late.
To put it mildly Lupron has destroyed every aspect of my life in one way or another.
I would never suggest Lupron to anyone if they had any another option of treatment. Especially someone who has been dealt the depression card.
I feel that the effects have finally begun to wear off, although I know I’m still not 100% myself. Those closest to me noticed a difference, that I wasn’t myself. And those who know the me who suffers from depression knew that the Casey that sat in front of them was even worse off than Casey with just depression. And me with ‘just’ depression is bad enough.
I am ashamed that I withheld and avoided friendships because of how the Lupron made me feel. I was not the mom Addie deserved while on this medication. And as far as being a wife? Fail. Fail. Utter epic fail. To go back and say “Oh sorry I’ve ignored you for the last few months, it was the medication overtaking my life.” seems like such a lame excuse. But when I look back over the last five months? I was simply an empty shell walking around, void of any and all hope. When I looked in the mirror I saw nothing. Nothing worth fighting for, nothing worth loving, nothing worth living for.
I tried faking it. Pushing through with a smile. For the most part it was all a lie.
I wish I could have those months back. I know I wanted a baby, and was ready to do almost anything to get one, but knowing what I know now? Babies can wait, babies can come other ways, babies aren’t necessarily worth risking your entire life for. (Coming from the lady who tried to kill herself while seven months pregnant? I know what I’m talking about.)
I know medication affects so many people in so many different ways, I also know a lot of you read my blog because you see some part of you in some part of me. And the part of me that has been beat by this medication says to that part of you, don’t risk it.
I almost lost it all in several different ways and all I have to show for it is a pit in my stomach and a black fog over the last five months.
I haven’t been a good friend (or even human being) the past few months, I was so concerned with making it out the other side of this in one piece. To those of you who have stuck it out with me? Thank you. Thank you a thousand times over. To those of you I lost or hurt? This is my apology, I’m so sorry.
I move into my house on Tuesday. A fitting new start to the old me that is coming back around.
I’ve missed me horribly.
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Comments off.
By Chibi Jeebs on 12.06.09 9:53 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @chibijeebs
We’ve missed you, too. <3
By ClassyFabSarah on 12.06.09 9:54 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @ClassyFabSarah
I feel like I don’t have the right words to say… so instead I’ll just say {{HUGS}} and lots of love headed your way.
Here’s to a fresh start in your shiny NEW house!!
By Just Shireen on 12.06.09 9:54 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @JustShireen
Oh honey, so glad you’re starting to find yourself again. xoxo
By Amber @ pacigraveyard on 12.06.09 9:55 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @AmourJoie
I’m so glad you’re “coming back”. It’s a little sunnier when you’re around, you know.
Big hugs.
Della Reply:
December 7th, 2009 at 2:41 am
It’s so true. This inspired today’s post.
http://daily-della.blogspot.com/2009/12/noticing-weather.html
By Marie Green on 12.06.09 9:55 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @lifeinatinytown
Wow, that really sucks Casey. I’m going off my beloved Zoloft (too many side effects outweighing the waning positive effects) and have been in a dark place myself lately. I can fake it so well, that I can almost convince MYSELF that I’m ok, but then…. well, then I’m just not. I think you understand that.
Hang in there. I’m so incredibly excited about your new house, and I sincerely hope that it will be just the fresh, bright place you need to be now.
Kisses!
By sam {temptingmama} on 12.06.09 10:00 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @temptingsam
I love you. I love you and adore you immensely. I’m here always and forever – no matter what.
I’m glad you’re getting back to you.
XOXOXOXOXO
By Quatro_Mama on 12.06.09 10:07 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @QuatroMama
We’re all right here for you, Casey. Now and always. Fog or sunshine. We desperately need you in our lives.
By Joanne on 12.06.09 10:07 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @joannekehoe
You hang in there, you brave girl, you. Enjoy that new house!
By Carrie on 12.06.09 10:10 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @clhoffman
I follow u on twitter and read this post. I did the Lupron shots for 6 months after the same proceedures u had for endometriosis. I was not told about most of the side effects. I remember wa/ting to throw up when my then 1yr old wanted to hug me because it made my skin crawl! Also didn’t realize having twins could result: we lost one 9 wks into pregnancy. But I now have my 4yo that I cannot imagine not having in my life. Here’s to new beginnings post Lupron!
By Melissa on 12.06.09 10:13 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @melissity
Three cheers to coming back around!
By pgoodness on 12.06.09 10:17 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @pgoodness
I know this has been hard for you – I know we’ve never met, but I could feel you disappearing a bit, just from your tweets and posts. And I admit I was worried for you, but I knew you would come through this. No matter your changes though, I’m still here and it would take a heck of a lot more than drugs or depression to get rid of me. You are an amazing person, Casey.
By VDog on 12.06.09 10:18 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @VDog
Welcome back. With tears in my eyes and love in my heart.
By deej on 12.06.09 10:32 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @laughdontcry
Casey –
So sorry you went through all this. IMO, the people who matter know that it wasn’t really you all those months, it was the treatment and they will forgive and forget. They will embrace you and everything will be alright.
So glad you’re feeling better, “coming out of the dark” if you will – and thrilled you are moving into your house!
Fresh starts, everyone deserves one now and then.
Big time hugs to ya!
By Katie on 12.06.09 10:40 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @thekatiemae
“…a lot of you read my blog because you see some part of you in some part of me”…Oh, so true, and thank you for having the words that a lot of us do not.
By Jessalee on 12.06.09 11:01 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @jessalee
As someone that has struggled with secondary infertility, I completely understand that drive that gets down deep inside of you and makes you feel like you HAVE TO have another child.
But honestly, the measure of a person is not the kind of mistakes they made in their lives but the way they atone and learn from those mistakes. It takes big ones to say I sucked for the better part of half a year, and to admit you took the wrong road. Not many people are big enough to look within themselves and say that.
Finally, do you think you would have been able to get to this point without the Lupron? Maybe you had to go through it to get here, to this point with the new house and the new perspective on your life. We all have to walk through fire sometimes, my dear.
Glad to have you coming back though.
By Heidi on 12.06.09 11:01 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @slightlycosmo
I’m so glad you’re back and I’m sorry it was so horrible. <3 you!
By Ohh Betsy! on 12.06.09 11:09 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @ohhbetsy
Even while on Lupron, you still managed to show me sincere and selfless friendship. You did more than I think you realize. And that is what I’ll remember more than all the other stuff. Well, unless they offer me Lupron, then maybe I’ll remember the other stuff as a sticky “note to self”.
By Angie on 12.06.09 11:10 pm | Permalink
Lots to grateful for, wouldn’t you agree? xoxoxo
By Sherry on 12.06.09 11:15 pm | Permalink
I’m glad that you are feeling yourself again. I’m wondering what kind of effect you think the Lupron therapy would have had on you if you didn’t already suffer from depression? I am starting on Clomid soon, and as I think of the things that may or may not follow in case Clomid doesn’t do it for me, it is really daunting and terrifying.
By Krista on 12.06.09 11:32 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @marriedlife
I’m sorry it’s been so crazy. I noticed you weren’t posting as much, but figured it was more the moving crazies.
Do you have to do anything more about it now?
I wish I had a drug to blame my crazy peevishness on…
By Susie on 12.06.09 11:52 pm | Permalink
Oh Casey – hugs. prayers. and lots of love. and all the hope I can throw your way.
By Maura on 12.06.09 11:52 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @moluvb
So sorry you were lost, but glad you are now found. (Amazing Grace, isn’t it?)
No better time than the holiday season to have a new beginning.
God bless you!
By Kellee on 12.07.09 12:01 am | Permalink
Twitter: @Photographerkel
Wow, what a horrible ordeal you’ve been through. I’m so glad to hear that you are working your way out. The best apology you can offer yourself or anyone else is to keep working at taking care of yourself and getting better. <3
By Erika on 12.07.09 12:08 am | Permalink
Twitter: @erikareyes
I do see much of myself in parts of you, it’s why I’m so attached. You’re so real!
Now I’m terrified! I know Lupron is somewhere in my future. It’s been talked about since I was 18. I will definately think long and hard before the final decision when the time comes!
I’m so sorry it has been so hard on you. I really have no idea how you feel but I do know how it feels to be on medicine that has sickly side effects.
You’re an amazing, hilarious, and brilliant lady. Thanks for being real and sharing this with all of us!!!
Have a wonderful time making your new house your home!
By mommymae on 12.07.09 12:25 am | Permalink
Twitter: @iammommymae
i am so so sorry you’ve been grappling with this, casey. it is nice to hear your voice, though, and see you say you want yourself back. we missed you, too.
By Untypically Jia on 12.07.09 12:29 am | Permalink
Twitter: @untypicallyjia
Casey you are so loved. I know you’re just trying to work on yourself through this, but you are an advocate for others dealing with depression whether biological, chemical, medication side effects, etc.
It’s good to hear your honesty, and we’ve missed you hun.
By Barb @ getupandplay on 12.07.09 12:40 am | Permalink
Twitter: @getupandplay
I’m so glad you are beginning to feel like yourself again. And I am so happy that you are moved into your new home! It is a physical and symbolic fresh start and you deserve them both. Loves.
By Tiffany on 12.07.09 12:50 am | Permalink
Twitter: @kidcancernurse
What an amazingly authentic post. I recently found your blog through Ohmommy at Classy Chaos and have loved reading it. I can relate to so much of what you write and while I have never taken Lupron, I have had severe post-partum anxiety and depression and have battled the side effects of several meds. I call the finding yourself again, “coming out of the fog” – all of a sudden everything starts to feel “normal” again and you start to feel like there may actually be someone “in there” again. So glad you are getting back to “normal”… Thanks for sharing your story.
By Overflowing Brain (Katie) on 12.07.09 1:02 am | Permalink
Twitter: @overflowinbrain
I haven’t lost myself to medications, but I know exactly what you’re talking about. I miss me too. And I hope to get a fresh start too.
Good luck, I hope things are smooth from here on out.
By cindy w on 12.07.09 1:09 am | Permalink
Twitter: @poobou
Oh honey. Missed you too. Hope it’s an easy trip back.
By Rachael on 12.07.09 1:55 am | Permalink
Twitter: @rachael1013
Ugh. It sucks when something that’s supposed to make you better or help you does something so awful to you. I’m sorry that it had such horrible effects on you, but I’m glad you’re back too!
By Lindsay on 12.07.09 2:09 am | Permalink
So glad you’re back and on your way to being better.
Unrelated: I think(?) you may have dropped your daughter’s name in here by mistake? (or maybe that’s not her name, what do I know?). Anyway, I figured I’d point it out, just in case.
All the best!
By Melanie @ Mel, A Dramatic Mommy on 12.07.09 2:53 am | Permalink
Twitter: @ADramaticMommy
Oh honey. I’m so sorry. Thank you for telling us, it must have been hard. I have a feeling you will help so many people. You have friends all over. Internet ones and real life ones who are here for you. Anytime.
Congrats again on the house. Your bamboo floors are making me quite jealous. xoxo
By Rabbi's Wife on 12.07.09 3:54 am | Permalink
Twitter: @rabbisiwfe
Looks like we’re both turning the depression corner at the same time. Welcome back. This is real, not that other place we visit.
By SciFi Dad on 12.07.09 7:33 am | Permalink
Twitter: @_scifidad_
Welcome back, Casey. I hope things get better for you.
By Avitable on 12.07.09 8:36 am | Permalink
Twitter: @Avitable
You know what? You still have been a good friend, even during this time. I’m looking forward to seeing your eyes twinkle with a smile again, though – that hasn’t seemed to happen nearly as frequently recently. xo
By lceel on 12.07.09 9:32 am | Permalink
Twitter: @lceel
Lupron can be nasty – welcome back. New house – new start – and a New Year less than a month away. Good timing.
By Megan on 12.07.09 9:54 am | Permalink
Twitter: @typicallymeg
Here’s to the beginning of your new life in your new house. So exciting! Focus on the exciting things coming up and rejoice in the fact that the Lupron is behind you…
By Tricia (irishsamom) on 12.07.09 10:08 am | Permalink
Twitter: @irishsamom
I so feel for you. I am a fellow endometriosis sufferer and was on the dreaded Lupron before my first child was conceived. Reading your post made me realise, and remember, just how badly that drug affected my life and spirit. Like you said, the physical side effects were just that, temporary and managable. I didn’t even know I was prone to depression till after my experience with that drug and I think it simply kickstarted the depression cycle for me or even worsened it. I, like you, was told it was my best chance of having a baby, and I like you, took that chance. It’s too late to look back now but I would never, never recommend it to anyone if they asked. It was simply put, “evil”, in my book. I am also incredibly sensitive to any hormones, even the pill, so the side effects of Lupron were pretty devastating.
I am lucky to have two children now, one conceived right off the Lupron and the other naturally, after a second laparoscopy. Both were meant to be and it will be the same for you if it is. Please know you are not alone. Endometriosis on it’s own is a huge thing to live with and anyone who doesn’t get depressed from the constant pain would be unusual. I wish you all the best in the rest of your journey and am so glad that this horrible, horrible treatment is over for you.
Tricia : )
By Must Be Motherhood on 12.07.09 10:58 am | Permalink
Twitter: @StateofKate
I’m so sorry–please know that we’re all still here–perhaps invisible to you at times, but still a safety net beneath you all the while.
By Amber Mc on 12.07.09 11:08 am | Permalink
Twitter: @ambermcn
I’m very sorry for this. I elected to skip the Lupron because I am bipolar and I was so scared of the side effects. I always wondered if it was the right thing to do.
I held my breath for you but as a stranger… it’s not my place to say: HOLD UP! You’re feeling all poopy? It’s the Luuuuuupron!
I hope your hormones get back in line soon.
By mommabird2345 on 12.07.09 11:30 am | Permalink
Twitter: @mommabird2345
I’m glad the clouds are clearing for you. I hope there are only sunny days in the future.
Congrats on moving into the house on Tues.
By Jenny on 12.07.09 11:50 am | Permalink
Glad to hear you are feeling like you again. Hopefully the move and a fresh start will be the icing on the cake!
By Eternal Lizdom on 12.07.09 12:02 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @eternallizdom
I have no answers… but am so thankful for your openness and honesty and will share your story with folks (like on MomsLikeMe) who are considering this treatment. Infact, I’m going to go link this up now.
Welcome home.
By Kate on 12.07.09 12:02 pm | Permalink
Good for you! I’m happy that you have chosen what is best for you.
So excited about your new house and the “new/old” Casey returning. You deserve all the best.
By Issa on 12.07.09 1:43 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @Issascrazyworld
I’m happy that you are starting to feel like you again.
By Bridget on 12.07.09 2:59 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @iveyleaguemama
I feel like I’ve gotten to know more you more in the past few months than ever before. And I like you foggy or sunshine-y.
And yay for new houses!!!
By Reese on 12.07.09 3:29 pm | Permalink
Casey, I’m glad you are coming out of the dark! I also appreciate your headsup about lupron, since I am prone to depression I will certainly not go that route if it turns out we need scientific interference to conceive!
Here’s to a truly joyful holiday season for you (in your NEW HOUSE!)!
By Amy in StL on 12.07.09 3:39 pm | Permalink
Depression is a scary insidious disease that you can always convince yourself isn’t really happening – but it is. I can’t imagine how bad it was for you. My friends always wonder why I workout and yet don’t eat right if I’m trying to lose weight. The truth? Exercise keeps me mostly out of the really dark places and helps me stay in the shadowy ones even when it gets bad. I don’t think they’d ever understand.
By Miss E on 12.07.09 4:58 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @MissEinAZ
I love the honesty that you always share. I’m glad you are turning the corner, dear friend. 2010 will be your year!
By Sara Joy on 12.07.09 6:14 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @SaraJOY
Delurking just to send you {{HUGS}} and prayers that your recovery is swift and successful. I feel you on so many levels.
You are so brave.
You are so loved. (Have you read these comments?)
We’re so glad you are back.
By OHmommy on 12.07.09 6:34 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @ohmommy
XO
By Kim on 12.07.09 9:31 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @Kwillis
Sweet Casey -
One of my favorite Bible verses is Joel 2:25: “I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten…” (KJV says “restore to you”) God lets nothing go unredeemed. These months, they’re not lost. They’re all worth something to Him. (I say this as I feel like I’ve been in a holding pattern for YEARS…so I cling to this verse a lot. A lot a lot.) I just love you to pieces. I am so thankful for your open heart.
XO
By rachel-asouthernfairytale on 12.07.09 10:18 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @sthrnfairytale
punkabella
<3
By Sarah Viola on 12.07.09 10:47 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @sarahviola
I’m sorry Casey, that you’ve had to deal with this. I’m just really sorry. I have a history of depression too, and I know. I’m glad you’re finding your way back home.
By Dawn on 12.07.09 11:34 pm | Permalink
We’ve missed you too.
And I relate on the Lupron thing. I was on it for 6 months my junior year in high school. The effects from it lasted for 12 months. It was the worst year of my life. Explaining a hot flash in Junior Chemistry? Not cool. Gaining 40 pounds in 4 months? Not cool. Being a complete bitch and not knowing why? Horrid.
I hope you recover soon.
By Angie [A Whole Lot of Nothing] on 12.08.09 12:13 am | Permalink
Twitter: @alotofnothing
I hope you can truly find your way.
By Jen L. on 12.08.09 12:56 am | Permalink
Twitter: @jennelsonlane
Oh, God love ya. I’m so glad you’re feeling more like yourself again. I had a skanky battle with PPD and it took MONTHS before I felt even an inkling of the old me start to return. Keep pressing on, my friend. xoxo
By Chris on 12.08.09 1:20 am | Permalink
Twitter: @cbroa
Casey,
I’m just one of the nameless masses the reads your blog religiously and comment only occasionally. I’m just your garden variety, shy, lurker. Your posts amuse me, make me think, sometimes laugh and sometimes cry.
Today I read this and I thought, “How Ironic.” All day I wondered if I should come back and post a comment because you see, it was just this morning right before my morning blog fix (You and The Spohrs are Multiplying are always high on my list in the mornings while I get ready to start my day). Anyway, it was while I was standing in the shower that I said to myself, “I wonder if anyone sees how far into the dark I’ve slipped. That my introversion is worse than usual, that my smiles don’t quite reach my eyes–I see it in pictures, but I wonder if anyone sees it looking at me? And I wonder how long I can hide it, because I don’t see light at the other end of the tunnel yet. All I see is more tunnel. And when I shrugged to myself and said “so?” Promplty getting shampoo in my eyes because all this conversation was going on in my head in the shower I realized it didn’t matter. It’s just my new reality. And, if I can manage to do what has to be done to muddle through then, maybe that has to be enough.
Then I came downstairs and read your post. And I wondered, because here you are, starting to come out of a horrible dark spot, and here I’ve loved your words dark light and every shade of paint in between (and we all know how many of those are…there must be 47 shades of off white alone!). And so I take a deep breath and here at least I say I know the dark place. Maybe it’s not much, maybe it’s not enough…but your words got me brave enough to say it, at least here. Thank you Casey for being you and for making me laugh and cry and smile and for teaching me things I didn’t know about turkeys and faith and most of all for sharing “the faking” on a day I was thinking of how well I’m “faking” my life. Thank you for letting me know that maybe I’m not totally alone. I wish you lots of happy, genuinely non lupron miserable happy happy thoughts and feelings and at a perfect time for it as you settle into your new house. You’ve earned it the hard way, lady.
C
By Candace on 12.08.09 4:02 am | Permalink
Twitter: @jondace
I’m so sorry, Casey. Here’s to things looking up from here on out Enjoy your new house for me.
By ali on 12.08.09 10:33 am | Permalink
Twitter: @alimartell
xoxo, lady.
By Sunshine on 12.08.09 12:05 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @beingfranklin
I can’t even handle the hormones in bc pills w/o becoming a terrible, rage-filled version of myself. I get it. It’s hard when you know you’re not yourself but you can’t do anything about it. Here’s to 2010. It has to be better!
By Miss Grace on 12.08.09 12:19 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @grace134
I’m glad you feel like you’re coming back. We missed you too.
By Mei on 12.08.09 3:48 pm | Permalink
I refuse to be on medication because I’ve tried everything and I always end up in that dark place you described. I don’t want to do things I was once so passionate about-photography, drawing, hiking, or even washing my hair. I feel no real affinity for anyone or anything.
I’m glad you’re fading back in to yourself.
By Kimmie on 12.08.09 4:03 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @kimsueellen
I have missed YOU horribly. Here is to a welcome back party of the most extraordinary sort.
By Carrie@Who knew? on 12.08.09 11:41 pm | Permalink
Depression is a horrible terrifying disease. I am so sorry for what you have gone through. And I am so happy for you that you have made it through. I know that feeling, wonderful but scary. Good luck.
By Leslie on 12.09.09 12:58 am | Permalink
I’m so glad to hear you survived Lupron. I belong to an on-line support group called LupronVictims@yahoogroups.com.
We’d love to see you there! And if you’d like more information on what Lupron has done to you, you can also visit http://www.LupronVictimsHub.com. Congratulations on your new house! Best Regards, Leslie
By punkinmama on 12.09.09 1:57 am | Permalink
Twitter: @punkinmama
Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. (((hugs))) So glad you’re coming through it. And I know you’ll use this experience to once again help others. You are amazing and strong.
By Elizabeth Kaylene on 12.09.09 8:25 am | Permalink
Twitter: @elizabethbarone
Lots and lots of hugs and love to you, and a big punch in the face to medication that does worse when it’s “supposed to help.”
By ashley on 12.09.09 11:01 am | Permalink
Twitter: @ashrittman
I’ve gone through the same thing this year on fertility drugs. I’ve been on some form of horrendous hormone medication since January and my friendships, ability to mother and be a wife have suffered. It’s great to be off the crazy meds and start to feel somewhat like myself again.
Welcome back. We have cake.
By Melody on 12.09.09 11:11 am | Permalink
Twitter: @simonesmom
Been there. Fertility drugs turned me inside out and upside down. PPD robbed me of the joy of the first few months of my daughter’s life. I’m so sorry that you had to experience that and that the side effects are never really made known when doctors prescribe these drugs. Helping women through the maze of medications associated with our waxing and waning fertility would be my dream job. Until then I work in the publishing mine because my daughter needs the excellent bennies. BTW– I’m in Indy too.
By Heather @ Domestic Extraordinaire on 12.09.09 12:09 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @DExtraordinaire
(((hugs)))
By Aimee Greeblemonkey on 12.09.09 11:03 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @greeblemonkey
Not sure if I have told you this, but my sister is like the poster child for endo. She has had 2 surgeries, and also suffered Lupron as well. Sorry it didn’t go so well for you either.
I have it much more mildly and am so lucky it can be handled with an IUD.
Hugs.
By Joe @ IrrationalDad on 12.10.09 11:27 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @joegearhart
I would be shocked if ANYONE didn’t forgive you. SHOCKED! Especially considering that you did nothing wrong. I’m bi-polar, and apologize to everyone when I sink into my blackness. Truth is, having a chemical imbalance is a disease. Why are you apologizing to us for being sick and being on the mend now?
By sam {temptingmama} on 12.12.09 12:26 am | Permalink
Twitter: @temptingsam
Just wanted to say hi and tell you I love you!
xoxox
By amy2boys on 12.12.09 1:05 am | Permalink
Twitter: @amy2boys
I’m so sorry – and so glad you are coming out of it. A perfect Advent thing actually – to begin to come back now, in time for Christmas.
By amber on 12.12.09 9:54 pm | Permalink
Twitter: @amberpagewrites
Oh, I’m so sorry. Depression on its own is bad enough…when magnified by a drug, well, I can’t imagine.
I hope you get that baby without the drug. But more important, I hope you find your hope again.
By Sarah on 12.12.09 11:23 pm | Permalink
Like many of your readers, we’ve never met. However, I have been following your wonderful blog for so long that as I feel as though I know you. You make me laugh, you make me cry, and it makes me wish so much I knew you in person. I don’t even need to meet you to know you’re wonderful. However, my heart still goes out to you and your struggles. Big hug.
By Sarcastica on 12.13.09 11:30 am | Permalink
Twitter: @sarcastica
Glad to hear you’re well on your way to coming back. It takes a lot for a person to admit those kind of things, so for that I really admire you. I’m glad you’re off that medication, you’re right…a baby can come later, with different help…not something that destroys who YOU are
Stay strong, and congrats on the house!!
By Emily on 12.14.09 1:04 am | Permalink
Twitter: @emmy_kay_919
Hey Casey – I’m so sorry to hear about how this affected you, but I am so glad to hear that you are on the mend. Fertility drugs are generally horrid, but I’ve heard that lupron is the worst. Congrats on your new home!
~em
By moosh in indy. » belated gratitude. on 01.05.10 4:27 pm | Permalink
[...] cry and smile and for teaching me things I didn’t know about turkeys and faith and most of all for sharing “the faking” on a day I was thinking of how well I’m “faking” my life. Thank you for letting me [...]