I have been thinking a lot lately about our journey and while I certainly have tried to block a lot of it out, I don't want to be one of those people that becomes insensitive to others still ttc. I tell almost everyone I meet about our struggle to conceive our little boy. When I say "almost 7 years" it doesn't really begin to cover the emotional trauma experienced in that time. To others it just sounds like a pretty long time. I don't ever really want to forget my struggles because they are a part of who I have become. I am absolutely not the same person I was before infertility.
Anyway, in thinking about our journey I found one of my old journals. It is so heartbreaking to read and the posts are so reminiscent of a rollercoaster. I am so sorry for anyone who is reading this who is still on the journey. It is such a difficult one that nobody seems to be able to appreciate. Be kind to yourself. On many days I know it feels like a life or death struggle. I will never look back and say that struggle wasn't so bad. It WAS that bad and probably even worse. Don't let anyone ever make you think otherwise.
I was reading through my journal and a particular entry struck me. I wanted to find out if anyone going through IVF can relate, so I thought I would post an excerpt from it. Here it is:
"Friday, October 30, 2009
...So, I just stuffed my face with popcorn and I can't eat or drink anything after midnight in preparation for the egg retrieval tomorrow. Here is a sample of obsessive thoughts that come with this step in IVF:
1. Did I already ovulate?
2. Did some of my follicles stop growing?
3. Did all of my follicles stop growing?
4. Are they going to run behind and miss the window of time to retrieve?
5. Are they going to drop them?
6. Is something going to keep them from doing the retrieval?
7. Will we get into an accident on our way to the clinic?
8. Will hubby make it to Vega$ to give a sample?
9. Will we oversleep?
10. Will Dr. Sher get food poisoning?
11. Will HE get into an accident?
12. Will the anaesthesiologist oversleep?
13. Will our condo burn down?
14. Will the power go out all over Las Vegas?
ETC. ETC. ETC. ETC...
It's like this every step of the way. After retrieval, the list starts again for fertilization:
1. Will the sperm be gone?
2. Will someone drop the sample?
3. Will any of them fertilize?
4. Will none of them fertilize?
5. Will something get screwed up?
ETC. ETC. ETC. ETC...
If anything fertilizes, the next list will start...
1. Will it be the right DNA (the one that doesn't match mine)?
2. Will they grow?
3. Will they be fragmented?
4. Will they be good quality?
5. Will they make it to 5 days?
6. Will they become blastocysts?
7. Will they be able to put them back in me?
8. Will there be any to freeze? (right.)
ETC. ETC. ETC. ETC.
You get the idea... This all started prior to stims with:
1. Will I even make a follicle?
2. Will I overstimulate?
3. Will I understimulate?
4. Will the cycle get canceled?
It's no wonder I lost 5lbs. I think the anxiety nearly killed me! I have been fairly relaxed since doing the trigger shot. I realize that at this point, I have no control over any of what will happen (except waking up and getting to the clinic on time). It is so hard to let it go when you have put this much time, effort and $$ into it. It's like signing up to go to college (for 5 years) and paying everything out-of-pocket, working your ass off, all with the understanding that when you get to the end only 30% of your class will get a diploma while 70% will leave with NOTHING and NO MONEY BACK. Who would sign up for THAT??"
Does that about sum up IVF for anyone else? Would love comments on this one (or really ANY one!!)...
Showing posts with label infertility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label infertility. Show all posts
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Thursday, September 8, 2011
PUI
PUI. Posting under the influence. Not a good idea. I realized this after I went back and read my last entry... Not super cohesive. Hope it made sense to someone out there!
I am not on Facebook. Never been a fan. I never joined because I did not have the energy to try to make my life look perfect. The only places I could have checked in at were fertility clinics and pharmacies anyway. It is probably a good thing the internet barely existed when I was in college. Thre was no MySpace or Faceook. Those could have been some REALLY messy posts under the influence. I'm not gonna lie, I am a tiny bit under the influence right now. I had a very rough day at work and it was the only coping strategy that fit into my schedule. To say that I am beyond exhausted would be a gross understatement. I am not sure how much longer I will post here since I don't think anyone is really reading this. I would at least like to be able to post the birth story at some point and I think I am just about there. I want to do that when I am not PUI though... Not sure when that will be!!
I am not on Facebook. Never been a fan. I never joined because I did not have the energy to try to make my life look perfect. The only places I could have checked in at were fertility clinics and pharmacies anyway. It is probably a good thing the internet barely existed when I was in college. Thre was no MySpace or Faceook. Those could have been some REALLY messy posts under the influence. I'm not gonna lie, I am a tiny bit under the influence right now. I had a very rough day at work and it was the only coping strategy that fit into my schedule. To say that I am beyond exhausted would be a gross understatement. I am not sure how much longer I will post here since I don't think anyone is really reading this. I would at least like to be able to post the birth story at some point and I think I am just about there. I want to do that when I am not PUI though... Not sure when that will be!!
Monday, August 22, 2011
The irony of it
So, today was yet another reminder that I will always be an "infertile." I had an appointment with my naturopathic doctor today to talk to her about my joint pain. I have had joint pain in my fingers, toes and knees since March. My knees actually feel better, but my fingers are a MESS. Particularly my right thumb. I am shocked every day by the number of things you do with your thumb that you can take for granted!! Anyway, my doctor referred me for some bloodwork and an xray. So I am sitting in a chair at the imaging place with my hand on a black base under the xray machine and the technician leaves the room to take the picture (or so I thought). She then comes back and carefully asks if I have had a hysterectomy. I tell her no, that I had a baby. Then she asks me if there is any possibility that I could be pregnant and I have a quick chuckle. Seriously?? Anyone else would not have thought much of it, but I wanted to say, "Lady, you have no idea- it took us SEVEN YEARS to have a baby, please go ahead with the xray since I have driven all the way here in the 113 degree heat. There is no way I could be pregnant." But, to my dismay, I was told that I would need proof (a blood test) before they would do the xray. Now, I totally understand the theory behind this, but really??! What infertile person enjoys having a pregnancy test done, much less one that they know for a fact will come back as a BFN!? I had a momentary panic attack at the thought after having soooo many BFNs, but my thumb hurts enough that I will just do it and get it over with.
I think if I were still in the thick of infertility, I would have fallen completely apart right then and there. Every day I read blogs of those who are still in the thick of it all and many times tears will start to sting my eyes. I came across a blog today that may as well have been written by me. The girl writing it described the experience of infertility soooooo well. I had all of the same thoughts as her at various points along my journey, but could never have articulated each of those thoughts as well as she did. I don't know which blog it was because the internet connection on my phone stopped working and I lost it. I will be searching it out, though.
I had always thought (hoped) that once I became pregnant or had a child that infertility would magically disappear and I would never get on that ride again. Well, I was mistaken. While I have been fortunate to get off the rollercoaster, I will always live in the park. I would call it an amusement park, but I am not sure that "amusement" is really the right word. Either way, I will forever spend my days walking around the park observing the reactions of those in line for the ride, hearing the screams of those still on it and waiting for others to get off. I don't want to leave my sisters in the park alone, but I don't think I will ever really "fit in" outside of the park. And that is okay. I think that we need to support each other at whatever stage we are in. I know that watching someone else get off the ride is a time of mixed emotion. Part of you is insanely jealous because that person has gotten what you wanted so badly and may or may not seem to have worked as hard as you did, but part of you is happy that one of your infertile sisters reached her goal. It is a tricky place to be emotionally. It is exhausting and schizophrenic. I know that some people who have read this blog (I see that 186 people actually have even though I am not really cool enough to have followers!) may not want to read any further because it is not always exciting to hear about the happy ending and I totally understand. Maybe my earliest posts will be helpful, though.
If you read back in my blog to the point where I was feeling more "comfortable" on the ride (Feb/Mar/April 2010), you can see that I had hope that things would be ok whether or not I had a baby. I NEVER would have thought that was possible if I had not experienced it myself. I was feeling stronger and thought that I would be ok no matter what happened. (Not that I would not always have had a hole in my heart for the child/children I never had). I had no idea what the future would hold at the point.
Not a day goes by that I don't think about my infertility and acknowledge how fortunate I am to be walking around the park and not on the ride. I wish I had known that all of the feelings I was having on the ride, no matter how bitter they seemed, were normal and okay. Really, nobody should tell ANYONE else how to feel. You feel how you feel and that is okay. I am thinking of all of you out there who are still on the ride and I am hoping that some of what I have been through could help even one of you. Please read my post about saving $15,000 from earlier this month as it gives a few last ditch ideas if you have already tried everything. Words cannot express the sadness I feel when I read of another failed ivf or disheartening diagnosis. I want to give people hope, especially since I was always told I had bad eggs and would never have a baby without medical intervention. I don't consider my child a bad egg. Eventually I will post a birth story, but I am still not quite ready yet. The after-effects of infertility suck (certainly not as bad as infertility sucks). I don't want to complain, but I also don't want anyone to think they get to leave the park...
I think if I were still in the thick of infertility, I would have fallen completely apart right then and there. Every day I read blogs of those who are still in the thick of it all and many times tears will start to sting my eyes. I came across a blog today that may as well have been written by me. The girl writing it described the experience of infertility soooooo well. I had all of the same thoughts as her at various points along my journey, but could never have articulated each of those thoughts as well as she did. I don't know which blog it was because the internet connection on my phone stopped working and I lost it. I will be searching it out, though.
I had always thought (hoped) that once I became pregnant or had a child that infertility would magically disappear and I would never get on that ride again. Well, I was mistaken. While I have been fortunate to get off the rollercoaster, I will always live in the park. I would call it an amusement park, but I am not sure that "amusement" is really the right word. Either way, I will forever spend my days walking around the park observing the reactions of those in line for the ride, hearing the screams of those still on it and waiting for others to get off. I don't want to leave my sisters in the park alone, but I don't think I will ever really "fit in" outside of the park. And that is okay. I think that we need to support each other at whatever stage we are in. I know that watching someone else get off the ride is a time of mixed emotion. Part of you is insanely jealous because that person has gotten what you wanted so badly and may or may not seem to have worked as hard as you did, but part of you is happy that one of your infertile sisters reached her goal. It is a tricky place to be emotionally. It is exhausting and schizophrenic. I know that some people who have read this blog (I see that 186 people actually have even though I am not really cool enough to have followers!) may not want to read any further because it is not always exciting to hear about the happy ending and I totally understand. Maybe my earliest posts will be helpful, though.
If you read back in my blog to the point where I was feeling more "comfortable" on the ride (Feb/Mar/April 2010), you can see that I had hope that things would be ok whether or not I had a baby. I NEVER would have thought that was possible if I had not experienced it myself. I was feeling stronger and thought that I would be ok no matter what happened. (Not that I would not always have had a hole in my heart for the child/children I never had). I had no idea what the future would hold at the point.
Not a day goes by that I don't think about my infertility and acknowledge how fortunate I am to be walking around the park and not on the ride. I wish I had known that all of the feelings I was having on the ride, no matter how bitter they seemed, were normal and okay. Really, nobody should tell ANYONE else how to feel. You feel how you feel and that is okay. I am thinking of all of you out there who are still on the ride and I am hoping that some of what I have been through could help even one of you. Please read my post about saving $15,000 from earlier this month as it gives a few last ditch ideas if you have already tried everything. Words cannot express the sadness I feel when I read of another failed ivf or disheartening diagnosis. I want to give people hope, especially since I was always told I had bad eggs and would never have a baby without medical intervention. I don't consider my child a bad egg. Eventually I will post a birth story, but I am still not quite ready yet. The after-effects of infertility suck (certainly not as bad as infertility sucks). I don't want to complain, but I also don't want anyone to think they get to leave the park...
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Looking back...
I find myself looking back on the past seven years lately and having a hard time believing that I actually went through all that I did. If someone told me I would have to endure that all over again, I honestly don't think I could bear it. I went back to my old job last week and was amazed at my ability to focus on my work without being distracted with thoughts of infertility for more than 7 seconds at a time. I couldn't believe how productive I was even though I get far less sleep nowadays. I knew that infertility had taken its toll, but I keep seeing new ways in which it did that.
I am so sad for the time lost. I apologize to anyone and everyone who met me during that time. I must have come off as such a bitter, angry person. I actually WAS a bitter, angry person, but just under the surface was a sadness that ran so deep it threatened my very existence. There is still sadness that comes with losing my babies, but it doesn't run with the level of anxiety that it used to. There is still some anxiety (well, more than 'some' anxiety) that comes with the thought of getting back onto a rollercoaster ride that I spent years trying to get off, but I am not ready to stand in line for a ticket for that ride quite yet. I want to bask in the stillness for just a bit longer.
I frequently find myself waking just before I fall asleep to thoughts of the other shoe dropping and squashing the life right out of me. Before getting off the rollercoaster, but toward the end of my journey, I felt a sense of being able to survive anything. Now that I am on "the other side" I feel a strange sense of guilt for being so lucky even though I endured more than many. My heart aches for those who have endured so much more. I sometimes feel like I didnt really "survive" infertility per se, I just had the good fortune of getting off the rollercoaster. I sometimes feel that it is those who did not get the original happy ending who are the true survivors. Having to carve out a new life different from the one they planned. Sometimes I feel like the little kid who whined soooo much that she finally got her way. Deep down I know that I earned my happy ending, but what about those who have worked harder, but didn't get what they wanted?
It makes me sad that infertility is such a mind fuck.
Now I am just rambling. I just wanted to get those thoughts out before I lay me down to sleep...
I am so sad for the time lost. I apologize to anyone and everyone who met me during that time. I must have come off as such a bitter, angry person. I actually WAS a bitter, angry person, but just under the surface was a sadness that ran so deep it threatened my very existence. There is still sadness that comes with losing my babies, but it doesn't run with the level of anxiety that it used to. There is still some anxiety (well, more than 'some' anxiety) that comes with the thought of getting back onto a rollercoaster ride that I spent years trying to get off, but I am not ready to stand in line for a ticket for that ride quite yet. I want to bask in the stillness for just a bit longer.
I frequently find myself waking just before I fall asleep to thoughts of the other shoe dropping and squashing the life right out of me. Before getting off the rollercoaster, but toward the end of my journey, I felt a sense of being able to survive anything. Now that I am on "the other side" I feel a strange sense of guilt for being so lucky even though I endured more than many. My heart aches for those who have endured so much more. I sometimes feel like I didnt really "survive" infertility per se, I just had the good fortune of getting off the rollercoaster. I sometimes feel that it is those who did not get the original happy ending who are the true survivors. Having to carve out a new life different from the one they planned. Sometimes I feel like the little kid who whined soooo much that she finally got her way. Deep down I know that I earned my happy ending, but what about those who have worked harder, but didn't get what they wanted?
It makes me sad that infertility is such a mind fuck.
Now I am just rambling. I just wanted to get those thoughts out before I lay me down to sleep...
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Former ghost blog
Wow. I just found out that my blog has turned in to a "ghost blog," which is basically a blog that someone abandons without saying goodbye. I have always run into blogs like this throughout my infertility journey and they have always driven me nuts! I hate not knowing how things turn out for someone. I need closure! So, imagine how I felt when I realized that I had become one of THOSE bloggers. I hope that I did not leave anyone hanging! It would be like me missing the finale of "Big Brother" after watching every episode leading up to it. I would be annoyed. Now, I do have two reasons that I feel are valid for accidentally turning this into a ghost blog:
1. I had absolutely NO idea that anyone had EVER read my blog. When I first started this blog, I couldn't figure out how to track the number of visitors so I just assumed that since nobody left comments it meant that nobody was reading it. (Kinda makes you wonder how I earned a Master's Degree...). I don't know where I got the assumption that my blog was not seen, since I have read a million infertility blogs and never once left a comment.
2. At the time I stopped blogging, I figured that it would only be a monthlong hiatus. I was pregnant and convinced that if I posted anything about my pregnancy, it would disappear. I think that anyone who has dealt with infertility and recurrent pregnancy loss will understand that statement even though it sounds completely nuts.
Assuming that anyone has read this before and has waited for an update, I would like to give you one, however I still have that "infertile superstition" and am afraid if I update, something bad will happen. I was never superstitious before infertility, but once I entered the world of infertility I started become perpetually afraid of "jinxing" something. It became borderline OCD.
I promise I will be posting more in the next couple of months for anyone who is interested. I hope that this post will erase my status as a "ghost blogger." I still feel like I am just talking to myself, so please leave a comment if you have anything you would like to say (my mom always said that "if you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all") or have any questions for me. I have learned A LOT (of things I didn't want to ever know) over the past 7 years about infertility...
1. I had absolutely NO idea that anyone had EVER read my blog. When I first started this blog, I couldn't figure out how to track the number of visitors so I just assumed that since nobody left comments it meant that nobody was reading it. (Kinda makes you wonder how I earned a Master's Degree...). I don't know where I got the assumption that my blog was not seen, since I have read a million infertility blogs and never once left a comment.
2. At the time I stopped blogging, I figured that it would only be a monthlong hiatus. I was pregnant and convinced that if I posted anything about my pregnancy, it would disappear. I think that anyone who has dealt with infertility and recurrent pregnancy loss will understand that statement even though it sounds completely nuts.
Assuming that anyone has read this before and has waited for an update, I would like to give you one, however I still have that "infertile superstition" and am afraid if I update, something bad will happen. I was never superstitious before infertility, but once I entered the world of infertility I started become perpetually afraid of "jinxing" something. It became borderline OCD.
I promise I will be posting more in the next couple of months for anyone who is interested. I hope that this post will erase my status as a "ghost blogger." I still feel like I am just talking to myself, so please leave a comment if you have anything you would like to say (my mom always said that "if you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all") or have any questions for me. I have learned A LOT (of things I didn't want to ever know) over the past 7 years about infertility...
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