Tag Archives: ouch

Three is not a crowd. But it will have to do.

Here we are again. At the brink. Just got the call saying we will trigger tonight. There are 3 eggs that look good and we’re not going to take any chances of losing those. We’re a day earlier than planned and 2 days earlier than previous cycles.
I’m having a really hard time mustering up any joy for the upcoming retrieval. And I don’t believe in my heart of hearts there will be a transfer.
I haven’t been here before. I’ve been nervous. Cautiously optimistic. Hopeful?
Now I feel like I’m just finishing something because I started it. Can’t leave a book half read or a bed half made.
I’m chest crushingly sad that things aren’t looking better and that I can’t seem to find the bright side.
I realize it only takes one. And three is 2 more than that.
I know it. I just don’t feel it.

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So that’s why it’s called Morning Sickness

I think it’s official. I suffer from morning sickness. I’ve been feeling queasy at various times – usually between 1 and 6 in the afternoon.

Today I woke up and did a little work before really getting moving. By the time I was in the shower I felt dreadful. Crawled downstairs to nibble on animal crackers and lay down on the couch until I had to leave for my meeting.

Brought snacks for the car ride and got through the meeting – looking a little green – then back to the office.

It’s not full on throwing up. And there was only one cough/heave combo today. But all in all I feel like Crap! I’ve heard feeling sick is a good sign. And I know that after all we’ve been through, what’s a little upset stomach? Right?

But I tell you – Bubble had better have a stellar heartbeat on Thurs…

Of course – there are other times when I’m feeling particularily poopy and I bump my sore bosom kind of on purpose and think to myself “I may be feeling horrible but we’re doing just fine.”

And then I suck it up and get on with my day.

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They stick to me. They stick to me not.

I’m doing all the things. Eating well. No caffeine. Said good bye to booze (sweet, sweet booze). Eating all the food groups. No bad chemicals. None of the things on the ‘no’ list from the clinic – working out, vacuuming, heavy lifting (unless you count my laptop). And I can’t help but feel – this isn’t really up to me.

Now I’m one of those people who gets what I want. And I generally want things I can have – to it all works well for me. And most things I want that are out of reach I can work for. If they’re too expensive I can save. If they’re too difficult I can be determined. If they take willpower I can muster it up – but dammit this is something I just can’t figure out how to have. I’ve done everything I can for this cycle.

And if it works or doesn’t – well, it doesn’t have much to do with me anymore.

And it’s ANNOYING.

If I had a list of things to do everyday – tasks to complete – hoops to jump through – dragons to slay. Well that I could do. But what we have here is a case of the ‘nothingyoucandoaboutits’

The days are limping by. It’s like it’ll never end. And the darkest secret of all is that I hope it doesn’t. If I can’t have what I want, then let me cling to this irritation of not being able to affect the outcome longer so I don’t have to face the truth. That sometimes we can do it all – swim to the ends of the earth and back. Climb a mountain. Dive deep into ourselves – and we still can’t have what we want.

Sometimes you end up with the wrong number of petals on the flower you’ve given. They stick to me.

They stick to me not.

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Family Planning IF Style

Trying to make plans for the coming months is proving to be a difficult, teary undertaking.

I try, in my head, to call husband and I a family instead of couple. Hence the ‘family planning’. But I have to say that in my heart of hearts, we’re a couple. A pair. A twosome. And this family/twosome needs to look at life beyond the next injection/ultrasound/ER and make some plans.

We’re talking about Italy at the end of June to coincide with a conference for husband. But I can’t seem to pull the trigger on the tickets. What if we’re pregnant? Or not? Oh- what if we’re cancelled and then try again and then get pregnant but are in the first trimester. Or we do another and it doesn’t work.

We could go see family in March or we could not. I mean, you never know right?

And don’t even get me started about tryng to make plans for the nest week. Well, we’ll be there unless, you know, we’re not….

LIMBO

I made a new year’s resolution to no longer be defined by my infertility but it seems to be more the defining factor as opposed to less. I feel like one of those women who can only talk about Baby, except all I can seem to talk about is No-baby. Which I think, for the record, is kind of creeping people out.

I’m the scary no-baby-lady. And I have no vacation plans because my no-baby is getting in the way. And I can’t go out on Satuday because my no-baby doesn’t like me talking to anyone else. And just try finding a no-baby-sitter on short notice? No chance. I’m the only one who can take  care of my no-baby, and let me tell you – no-baby is really really needy.

If I had known that having no-baby was going to be this emotionally draining I would have relaxed just like everyone keeps telling me. I would have had me some sex with my husband – maybe on a weekend out of town – to get away from it all. I would have stopped putting so much pressure on myself and just had an actual baby.

sheesh.

Seems no matter what people tell you, you’re never really prepared for no-baby. Your whole life changes and nothing is ever the same once no-baby comes along.

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The “You-know-what-lets”

Can’t help it. Have to write this post despite wanting the buzz around 6 plus crazy lady plus 8 to fade swiftly away.

There is no point in discussing the creation, arrival or future of the 8. But I must take a moment to spill about why everyone needs to talk to me about the story.

Now I know I am in the middle of an IVF cycle. And I believe that everyone who knows is cheering for me, and only wants the best for me. And everyone who doesn’t know – well they don’t know. So how could they understand how far down their throats they’ve stuck their feet in the last few days.

I may know very little about the “you-know-what-lets”, but I do know this…

1. No I can’t really imagine having 8 babies at once. I can’t really imagine having one most of the time.

2. That is what happens with fertility treatments (in the hands of a crazy woman and a crackpot RE)

3. I don’t know why she would want to have more babies after she already has 6. I’m more interested in why she gets 14 and I get none.

4. Not idea how she’s going to pay for them. But then, in a couple of cycles, not really sure how I’d pay for one either so this pot won’t be calling the kettle black.

5. I agree the world is unfair and that people who really deserve babies don’t get them while other people who none of us know from Adam but are quick to judge just get to keep on havin’ ’em. And an especially big thanks for pointing that out to me in a big ‘ole room full of people.

6. It is a shame they don’t give out licenses for parenting. Lot of good the license did the doctor who put her in the situation.

7. I’m afraid I haven’t noticed that they never show the babies because I keep changing the channel.

8. No, I don’t want to have 8 babies and certainly not all at once- but given the choice – 8 or none I can’t say for sure which way I’d go.

Now don’t even get me started about the senior mom who had twins in Calgary. Seriously? 60?

Arrgghh!

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You always remember your first time…

Ah, remember when making a baby involved a different kind of poking?

Today was our first injection. After bringing home a load of drugs impressive enough to have all three pharmacists at my local drug store abandon what they were up to and come to the counter to wave and shout good luck, I proceeded to mentally prepare myself for the first jab.

Any Lord of the Ring fans out there? No – ok then I’ll try and re-frame the reference. It might seem like just one needle. But you step out your door on this adventure. And you only plan on going to the end of the drive, or the end of the street. Then you find you’ve travelled twice as far as you ever thought you’d have to. And certainly twice as far as you ever thought you could.

And at that moment you realize you just have to keep walking. Because your task, your journey. It just isn’t finished yet.

So today – as I was thinking about my first needle I realized that I may be on my first injection but I’m already so far  in that it feels more like the start of a new chapter in a book that’s hopefully 3/4 through than a whole new story. Which brought me great comfort. I sometimes think it’s never going to work, but that I have to try everything so that when I give up I can do so without regret.

But today it felt like maybe having a baby was possible. And that needle delivered a shot that was 1 part Lupron and 2 parts hope.

Almost as much as there was the first time my husband and I ‘had the talk’ and decided we’d try in earnest to have a baby. All that time ago. The feeling of trust and love and commitment that I took from that day and the days that followed, through one No after another didn’t fade. Just got a little lost in the shuffle.

But tonight as he was holding the sharp container and I was fighting with air bubbles and alcohol swaps it swept over me all over again. It felt so right – the two of us trying to have a baby. And I was nearly overcome. Just like the first time.

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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.

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