And another one bites the dust…
So you know that call? The call that on one hand makes you really happy and makes you want to throw up on the other?
Got two in a row today.
First, clinic called with results of today’s blood work. Recognized the number but the voice was not the nice weekend nurse lady. Oh no – male voice. The doc himself. Follies = 8 above 1.0. Estrogen= molasses. Apparently. So happy for eggs and want to throw up over possiblity of canceling the cycle.
Hang up the phone. Ring Ring. Hi friend who’s been trying to get pregant! Hey – third times the charm right? Congrats! Yay with the happy hand while throw up hand is wiping the stupid grin off my face.
Oh yes. We have good days and bad days. And some days we have both. All at once. Over and over again.
I’ve been thinking about this all day long. And I’m not sure if we get canceled that I’m prepared to do this again. On the happy hand it’s a small price to pay to get from A to Baby. On the vomit hand, it’s like going to a party being kicked in the gut and the ass and the big fat lip while every one around you is handed the only thing you want on a silver bumbo. And then you leave the party bloody and empty handed.
Just don’t know how much kicking I can take.
The temperature is warming up. And I forgot that warmer weather means the return of life to my neighbourhood. This includes the baby brigade. We live in a pretty yuppie neighbourhood – great if you have a baby. Not so great if you want one and can’t seem to have one. Of course, when we moved here, we figured we’d fit right in in no time. Apparently not. I had conveniently forgotten – over the long very cold winter – about the babyrotti that roam the streets in the hood.
Long story short – they’re out in full force. Now those with bumps last year are pushing strollers and a bumper crop of new expectants are strolling around flaunting their fertile selves.
Apparently I have grown colder as time wears on – or this Lupron is turning me into a mega-bit.ch because these were my observations today. Don’t hate me because I’m miserable.
1. We’re in a Sta.rbu.cks so the drink everyone is holding is very hot. Maybe a toddler shouldn’t be dancing right now.
2. Maybe people under 3 feet shouldn’t be crossing behind a car with reverse lights on when mom and dad are trying to get child 2 out of the car.
3. It is cute when children stand in the middle of the sidewalk. It’s not cute when 2 parents with giant empty stoller stand in the middle of the side walk to reflect on the cuteness.
4. Strangers don’t always love to see your kids try and try to open a door by themselves when they are all lined up to exit said door.
5. Fertile people don’t rule the freakin’ world.
Ok, there, I said it.
Filed under infertility, ivf
Injection school. Mock transfer. Endometrial biopsy. A few short months ago – I didn’t really know what any of those things were. I’ve spent the last month willing time to past more quickly so I could just start already. Now that it’s the day after tomorrow, I’m nervous.
I’ll finally be in the thick of it. Good. But once it’s here, it can start going badly. The injections might be more painful than I expected. What if the biopsy shows yet another setback? What if the mock transfer doesn’t go well? The cycle gets cancelled? The cycle doesn’t get cancelled but still doesn’t work?
What if it doesn’t work? I really want it to work. I am channelling everything I can into ‘it will work’. I haven’t really spent much time wrapping my head around another BFN.
I thought I was ready for this IVF but I’m not sure I am. I’m not ready for it not to work.
We put one foot in front of the other I suppose, trudging along on the path to parenthood. All around us other couples are carried on magic carpets or winged ponies or Lear jets to the destination while we crawl on our hands and knees (not an easy task with your feet in stirrups) towards the endpoint. The thing is, I’m not sure the door will be open to me when we arrive at the gate.
Are we there yet? Is it much further? No one can answer. And it makes it harder to keep going when you know in the darkest parts of your heart that the truth of the matter is this. Despite being able to see the glow of Parentsville way off in the distance, no matter how much I want to finally be there, I may never, never arrive.
So I’m nervous to start on the next part of the trip. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to come back to who I am now-pre-IVF. But I don’t know if I’ll ever get to Parentsville either. I fear getting caught forever on the muddy part in between.
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.
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.