Monday, January 29, 2007
And it really is. It’s unfair that my friends have had two kids in the time is taken us to try for one…and we’re still not even pregnant. It’s unfair that IF has taken the wonder and excitement out of this whole process for hubby and me. It’s unfair that it’s gotten to the point where I can’t even see us decorating a nursery or holding a child of our own. It’s unfair that we were supposed to be going through the pregnancy and childbirth and midnight feedings at the same time as our friends, but instead their kids will be well past that by the time we ever have a family. It’s unfair that everything about hubby and me appears to be “textbook,” and yet we can’t seem to get pregnant. It’s unfair that my neighbor had a baby on what would have been our “due date” and I had to walk past a giant inflatable stork on their front yard every day for the month after our due date. It’s unfair that, had things worked out, we would have had our first baby before Christmas, but instead I was able to drink champagne at midnight on New Year’s. It’s unfair that we wanted to have 3 kids, and were really hoping to have them before we’re 35, and that now, absent multiple births, that is a mathematical impossibility. It’s unfair that my parents are getting older, and I worry that it’s going to take us so long that our kids won’t have the benefit of a long relationship with them. It’s unfair that I don’t know a single other person who is going through the same thing right now, and who I can grab a drink with and commiserate with after work. And, it’s unfair that after months and months of keeping our spirits up post-miscarriage, IF has hung around just long enough to make me this bitter and cynical about the whole process.
But, most of all, it’s unfair that it doesn’t seem like I can do anything about this. We’re supposed to start Clo*mid next cycle, but we can’t decide whether to delay it another month or two. There doesn’t appear to be anything wrong with us, so odds are supposed to be that we’ll get pregnant on our own. And, I hate taking medication of any kind—I don’t even like to take Ty*lenol unless I really have to. So, it sort of seems like a cruel twist of fate that I have to take pills to get pregnant. (And an even crueler twist that it might not work.) But, it’s getting to the point where I can’t watch cycle after cycle go by without doing anything. It’s just way too painful for both hubby and me. So, I think we’ll have to suck it up and start the drugs. And just *hope*.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Turns out, I was wrong. We got together for lunch on Friday and she asked how things were going with us. I couldn’t get three words out before she started trying to give me advice. “Well, you know what really worked for us, taking your temperature. Have you been doing that?” Yes, yes. I did that for the four months in between my first and most recent RE appointment. “Oh, and the other things, having s*ex every other day really worked. You should really try that.” Yes, thanks. We’ve done that. And everyday. And mornings rather than evenings. Trust me, I’ve been at this for over a year. “Oh, and you know, I know this sounds strange, but I really think that just being around kids is helpful. For me, I started to spend more time around kids the month I got pregnant. I really think it brought out my maternal side.” Um, yeah. First, my office is in a school, and I am in and out of our other schools all the time. Oh, and my cousin and close friends here in our new hometown all have kids. Multiple kids. So, I’m with them all the time as well. So, I’m fairly certain the problem doesn’t have anything to do with not spending enough time around kids.
Then, I think she could tell that I was getting a little exasperated and she said to me, “I just really want to help you.”
First, I don’t remember asking for help, with all due respect. Second, apart from growing a pair and screwing me yourself, I’m not sure you’ll be able to help. Plus, given that we have a competent RE at one of the top fertility centers on the case, I’m not certain there’s much value you can add in the way of new information.
I don't mean to say that the lunch was a total bust. It was really good to see her…but it served as another reminder of how IF takes away not just your ability to have kids, but also your ability to keep a sense of humor. And, it slips its way uninvited into lots of other areas of your life. My friendships mean the world to me, and even the subtle impact it’s been having on them is just really upsetting. Again, humpf.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
It’s been a really busy few weeks. Got back from
I’m now back home, and faced again non-stop with babies, fertility, and my lack of both. A coworker told me that another and her husband are trying to conceive. (PS—I saw through the blatant attempt to get me to talk about what is taking hubby and I so long to jump on the baby wagon. I know it drives people crazy that I’m tight lipped on the subject.) So, now I realize that it’s only a matter of time before there is yet another pregnancy announcement at my office. Argh. Good times.
Oh, and I had to spend the afternoon on the phone with an attorney yesterday talking about the best way to deal with this total PIA on my team who is basically accusing me of being age biased. His evidence? That when he couldn’t hear me once, he thought I deliberately exaggerated how loud I was talking to mock him. I kid you not. I can’t make this s&*% up. Even if that were true, which it isn’t, how do you get age bias out of that? Maybe I’m just generally obnoxious, having nothing to do with age? When the president asked, “well, are you saying that you think she treats you differently than the other members of the team,” he said no. ?? But, because he hit the right buzzword, they have to investigate, which I respect and get. But, argh.
On the bright side, I think I may be up for a promotion. So, at least there’s that.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
But, apparently everything looks fine. Although, I guess my uterus is upside down. ??? They tell me this is normal and nothing to worry about. It certainly doesn't seem normal to me. I emailed my friend to tell her and she emailed back, "Does that mean the baby will come out of your mouth?" Let's hope not.
In other news, I got back from
In any case, my take away from all of that is that, you could really do worse than to just teach your children to be good people—to be thoughtful, considerate, and have a moral compass—and to give them clear boundaries and consequences for their actions. The other stuff has a way of working itself out.
And, those are my random thoughts for the day…
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
This month, I’m stuck somewhere in the middle. I alternate between being bitter and being optimistic that, if not this month, it’s going to happen for us very soon. I’m finally getting my HSG this month. I should have gotten it months ago—in August when I first went to our RE. But, after I got all the normal hormones tested and things seemed fine, we thought we’d wait a few months and see if it just happened. (Also, I’m a total fraidy cat about the whole thing. I just didn’t want to do it and was hoping to avoid it entirely.) Now I hope that I can get it over with this month, that everything will be normal, and that I’ll benefit from the slight uptick in fertility that happens the month of the HSG. (See, there she is again: hope.)
For me, CD1 is slated for either tomorrow or Friday. I didn’t chart or use the monitor or anything this month, so don’t know exactly. I can’t decide if I’m glad to be monitor- and thermometer-free. On the one hand, I’m certainly not obsessing about temps, etc. On the other hand, my temp would undoubtedly started to drop by now, which would be my cue. Instead, hope is hanging on just a bit longer this month—like it used to pre-charting. Though, even if (when) AF arrives as scheduled, there is some comfort in knowing that I’ll be doing something different this month. I know the HSG isn’t terribly novel, but at least it’s something.
Also, I’m actually leaving for
So, there you have it.
Friday, January 05, 2007
Like many women who’ve been having trouble conceiving for far too long, I’ve been poking around on the internet reading other infertility blogs and, in doing so, I’ve realized a few things.
- None of us was sorry to see 2006 go.
- IF has turned normal, healthy, stable women into obsessed, bitter infertiles.
- After a while, IF begins to feel like your new reality.
What’s so strange about it all is that I’ve seen how this has all really become habit. It’s become part of our lives—like walking the dog or taking the trash out on Mondays. It’s routine. And, in some ways, no matter how depressing or upsetting it is, routine becomes comfortable. I think that’s what scares me/pisses me off the most. IF has taken away the wonder and joy of the whole process and made it habit. Mundane. Comfortable.
I know many will probably disagree with me on this “comfort” point, but in all sincerity, I’m beginning to forget what our sex life was like pre-IF. And I’m afraid of what it’ll be like if we’re ever able to get beyond IF. I’m beginning to wonder what I spent all my time thinking about before. Like any good addict, I know that this is a vice, and I wish I could have escaped it altogether, but now that it’s here, I can’t imagine life without it. And I can’t picture life beyond it anymore. When we first started TTC, I used to imagine decorating a nursery, or pondering how I would balance parenthood and my career. Now, all I think about is trying not to schedule business trips around our “fertile” window.
What’s more, we’ve almost completely stopped having sex outside of the baby-making schedule. I know that sounds horrible and depressing, but I have a very short cycle (24-26 days). So, really, after AF ends, we’re almost immediately in the next “fertile” window, and we try to get it on as much as possible. By the time the window is over—given one or two post-ovulation romps for good measure—it’s only a matter of days before AF comes, and we’re back to square one. So, really, our sex life has become entirely about making babies. And I really wonder what that is going to do to us once the “comfort” of infertility is gone (god willing it ever is)? Will we be so happy to have a break that we’ll just stop completely? Or, will we somehow find a way to turn the bedroom back into a place that’s about us, our relationship, and our love, rather than about procreation?