Monthly Archives: January 2009

The best club I never wanted to join

So I’ve had some traffic to ye ole blog here, and some lovely comments from people who genuinely get how I feel. And I’m starting to find my way to other stories/other lives that are similarly complicated/heart-breaking/inspiring/full of a love yet to be realized and I don’t feel so alone anymore.

Remember that blind melon video? No Rain. With the bee girl? No, it’s on youtube…here, let me help. Just give me a sec.

Ok, I’m back – not sure if I’m allowed to do this but check it out.

So that Bee girl in the video. That was me. Wandering around in my infertile outfit. Feeling out of place and emotionally out of touch. Feeling a bit lost even in a room full of people who love me.

Until I found all the other bee people. The other women who also feel lost. Sure, some feel despair. And some feel hope. And some feel jilted. And some feel like it’s just a matter of time. And I think all of us feel all these things and more at some point or another.

If there was an internet version of being really drunk outside a bar at 2 am with a bunch of people who barely know you but totally “get you” and cause you to throw your arms around them and yell out “I love you guys”. This is kind of it. I know I don’t know you. I haven’t had the time to read all your stories from start to now. There are oodles of women here on the interweb, infertiles, Bee People I haven’t had the pleasure to get to know…yet.

I wish with all get out that none of us were part of this club. I wish it had no members at all. But I do admit that for a long time I felt like the only member. And now I know I am not alone. There are other Bee people. Good Bee People

I am really glad I found you.

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People at work think I’m stuck up because I don’t go out for drinks.

Isn’t that nice of them? And since they’re dudes I don’t want to say “Hey dudes, I’d love to go and pound some brewskies but the lining of my uterus could be compromised by excessive drinking and given all the vaginal ultrasounds, suppositories, injections, not to mention sperm samples my husband has had to produce in shady men’s rooms I’d really rather not take the chance and bugger up this in-vitro. So, no thanks.

Instead I say, sorry, can’t. Really gotta work. Lot on my plate. Later.

So I’m a goodie too shoes who works too much, doesn’t want to get to know anyone outside of the office and who is kind of a buzz kill.

I can only imagine how talk of a trans-vag ultrasound would kill the buzz.

I’m not stuck up. I just think my uterus is at the center of the universe right now. So just f$#* off, alright.

Ok, so I may not be stuck up. But maybe I’m kind of a bit.c.h.

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Keep Calm and Carry On

So there are a thousand things running through my head all the time. The injections start next week. Will I be able to do them? Will they hurt? Will I mess them up? Can I get all my work done without stressing out? Am I eating well enough? Am I sleeping enough? I’m I thinking positively enough? Am I over-thinking this? Will it work? Will it work? What if it doesn’t work…

It just doesn’t stop. I think this going to be the longest month so far on this journey.

The running, running, running in my head is wearing me out, and we haven’t even begun yet.

I need to calm the f#^* down. I need to breathe. I need to let myself believe in a future after TTC – whatever that is.

I need to put one foot in front of the other. Live each second, then minute, then hour, then day as though it’s just a small step to a big finish.

I need to keep from losing myself in all this mess.

I need to breathe. Have I said that yet? Breathe.

The thing about a journey is remembering that it’s as much about the getting there.

I need to have faith that we’ll get there.

I need to keep calm and carry on.

Injections start a week from today.

7 days.

My husband and I are about to start trying to have a baby. Well, trying something new anyway.

When you say it that way, it’s almost exciting!

And I am sure as hell ready for something exciting.

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And then I cried at work…

Ok – so here’s a rather personal story that is adding to my up-and-down mood. This is kind of disjointed. My apologies.

So my Dad died in 2000. A heartbreaking turn of events that wasn’t unexpected but devastating just the same. He got Hep-C from a blood transfusion in the early 90’s and eventually it killed him. Very sad. Very frustrating. And it made me very angry.

To add insult to injury, due to the date of his transfusion, he was ineligible for the major compensation packages that were offered to other folks. Until now. So after 8 years, he’s (well, my sister and I have) finally received the go-ahead for compensation for the gross oversight on the part of the Red Cross that resulted in his death (and the death of thousands more).

What does this have to do with IVF?  Well, today said cheque arrived – exactly one week before we’re due to pay for IVF #1. So after all this time, my Dad has provided for me once again. He was a single parent of two girls – an unusual position to have found himself in during the seventies. He took me to Mother/Daughter banquets, Mother’s Day Teas, took me to get my first ‘brassiere (I don’t even know how to spell brassiere)…and by took me I mean delivered me into the arms of the busty, glasses on a string around her neck sales woman at Sears, handed her his credit card, stuttered a bit and went off to find a coffee. When I was thinking about it the other day, I realized I never needed anything while he was around. I had a roof over my head, a car to drive when I needed it, clothes, food, an education, cool stuff I wanted more than I needed.

But starting a family. That’s a need I feel in my very core. It’s more than a want. And figuring out how to make it work moneywise was hard, but we had a plan. Little sacrifice here. Cut back there.

We’ve been waiting for this to be finalized for 8 years. Could have come any time. But the cheque has come now. In my time of need. And I am grateful for the timing. And I am thankful that the folks responsible have stepped up and taken responsibility.

But dammit – it’s also made me angry all over again. I miss him. Still. He’s the best Grandpa a kid never had.

He was Santa Claus and Superman in one. And has swooped in to rescue me and my husband (who he never had the pleasure to meet) again. Eight and a half years after we said good-bye for good.

I’m not a big one for signs. But if there was ever a moment to say ‘it’s a sign’ – this is it!

Thanks Dad. For everything. For every day I had the pleasure of your faith in me. Cross your fingers for us ok? I hope I’ll have the opportunity to be half the parent you were.

I miss you. Still. Every day. Especially today.

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Birth Control Freak

One of the counter-productive truths of trying to conceive is that you find yourself on the birth control pill shortly before an IVF cycle. Now it’s been a few months for us – too many if you ask me. But this is the second month on this new (to me) brand. And, it’s taken me a week or so to realize that I’ve pretty much gone off the deep end. And I think it’s all the pill’s fault.

I am freaking out at work, crying over cute doggies, panting at my desk – feeling like I’ve had 5 cans of diet Co.k.e. I’m all fracked up and I am fully and completely blaming the pill.

I am supposed to be cutting down on the stress – and even the thought that my stress is too stressful is stressing me out.

I am a freak.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better

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The Glass is Half Full – say it with me now…

So I’ve been bitching and moaning all week.  And it’s a sad truth that the more I bitch and moan, the bitchier and moanier (?) I get. So today ? Today is my glass half full day.

For starters, the wait for my first IVF is almost over. Thank god. The wait has been killing me. All the uncertainty and the fear of  screwing up the injections and having the cycle canceled and so on and so on only get worse when it’s all I think about day after day. So – wait almost over. Time to stop worrying and start channeling positivity. There is a chance this is going to work. I need to focus on that chance – and not the chance…never mind. Not even going to say it.

Next – I really like my new clinic. My last one just made me feel worse and worse at time went on. So if I’m going to have to spend lots of time in compromising positions it will be at a place I like.

I have a great partner through all of this – I’m very lucky to have met my husband and to have his unwaivering support on every step of our journey.

Not everyone I know is pregnant and the ones that are? Well, they’re all getting pretty chunky… It’s not nice – but it’s true. And  if I’m ever pregnant and someone around me isn’t but wants to be, I hope I have the courtesy to pack on a few pounds so they can glean a little joy from the situation.

I really like babies. And I’d really like to have one now. And I have done everything that was asked of me, and I have waited my turn (not patiently but waited) and I am ready to be loving, caring and nurturing. I am ready to take on the task of taking a tiny little person and parenting him or her into a great human being. I’m ready be up all night. I’m ready to worry that I’m f#(%ing them up. I’m ready.

For some months last year I lost hope. I couldn’t see a future that included a new member in our family. I couldn’t imagine it finally working. I was ready to give up. But I have hope renewed. Energy to channel into a positive outcome. And a dream of being a mother that I won’t let go of. Not yet.

THE GLASS IS HALF FULL. Maybe one day it’ll fill all the way to the top. Though a full glass is a lot easier to spill. And I can’t afford to let any of this hope run out.

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Something sad about friends you pay for…

So I was sitting at Sta.r.bu.cks this morning doing some work and a woman and her little girl came in and sat in my chair cluster. Now, I’m sure they have their moments – the little girl looked about 2. But from where I was sitting, they were buddies. They had private jokes. They had games and dance moves and they were having a grand old time. And despite usual urge to send angry at the universe eye daggers at them, they made me smile.

Until I came to the realization that I was only going to have a buddy like that once I had paid thousands, potentially tens of thousands of dollars. And an emotional price too high to name. Now maybe she did too. That I will never know. But I’m irked today that almost everyone I know paid for the bottle of wine, maybe the dinner. Heck – maybe there was lube. And that’s it. They didn’t pay the emotional toll…one ticket to the infertility rollercoaster – that’ll be 2 or more years of your life, part of your relationship with your husband, your relationship with all your pregnant friends, some of your self worth. Oh, and a big chunk of your sex life please.

I am not a fan of roller coasters. And I am not saying I care about the money more than I care about finally adding to our family. I am thrilled to have the opportunity to take this next step in our journey to become parents.

I’m just grieving having missed out on an experience that is just about happiness. Just about two people becoming three. Sure, once baby comes, most couples experience a bit of money trouble, relationship trouble, some loss of self for Mom, some loss of sex for both of them. But until the stork comes – it’s happy, happy, happy.

Not everybody has to pay for a ticket to happy. And I would like to be those people. Dammit.

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