The internet should use it’s power for good…

Instead of evil. Like yesterday, when I was researching the endometrial biopsy I’m having tomorrow and found these comments.

Go ahead. Scroll down to the comments. Apparently I’m walking into labour – you know- without the whole ‘finally get pregnant after all this time, carry successfully to term, have a natural birth then get to go home with a brand new baby thing’. No, just the labour.

I get that people feel the need to warn people so they have an idea what to expect – but my god people – now I’m terrified. Was that really, really necessary?

Right after my mock transfer/endometrial (LABOUR) biopsy, I get to part with enough money to buy a decent car, have a clinic appointment with my nurse to learn how to stab myself one or more times a day and head to the pharmacy to gleefully hand over enough for a second car.

I’d love to know how anyone who has just endured the worst pain of their life is supposed to check 3 things off the big to-do list in the 45 min that follow.

I hope that perhaps those who aren’t used to all the kings horses and all the kings men busting in past the cervix are perhaps more likely to feel great pain.

And maybe they didn’t have the pleasure of a full blatter ultrasound at the same time to keep their minds occupied.

I sure hope that’s the case. Because they want to investigate the cramping of my cervix at the same time – during the mock transfer – which I’m guessing means no drugs for me.

I’ll report back. I’ll be very honest. But not too honest. Because I will use the power vested in me by the interweb for good. And not evil.

Is Parentsville accepting new residents?

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.

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.