On Thoughtlessness

Tonight, an acquaintance who is at my house with some frequency this summer said to me "you're STILL not pregnant?" Humiliated, I excused myself from the table and joined my husband in the backyard where he was grilling dinner for everyone. This isn't the first time this particular person has said something negative or insensitive about my inability to get pregnant- and in spite of the fact that they are a longtime friend of my husband's he was ready to ask them to leave. Once I pulled myself together, I decided that it wouldn't be worth the drama- and ultimately isn't who I am. 

What would you do in my shoes? Would you speak up? Or take the higher road and just ignore it?

Until next time,

Grace

Funny Rap Video About Infertility

Some good friends of ours who know what we are going through brought me flowers yesterday. They have brightened what has been a difficult day. Supportive, understanding and positive people really make a difference and I'm lucky to have them in my corner.

I intend to write a post about the importance of distracting yourself later in the week, but for now here is a shot of me with my latest distraction from all things infertility- a 500+ page book on the last Imperial couple of Russia. Yes, I'm a huge history nerd.

On Faith

Tonight the room is spinning and so is my stomach and all I can do is remember that this isn't forever, and hope that it all will be worth it in the end.

Here's what my medication and supplement box looks like this week. It varies slightly depending on what part of the treatment cycle it is. I spend upwards of 100 dollars a month on the ones that don't require a prescription.

On Clomid & Coping.

I took my last dose of clomid for this round yesterday morning. Amen. I've gotten used to most of the side effects; late night headaches, insomnia, hot flashes and the occasional "visual disturbance" that temporarily leaves me wondering if someone slipped LSD into my water. Last night I thought I was being pulled over in my car by the disco police, and was lucky to be pulling into my driveway after a long day of driving when it started. I just keep telling myself that these things aren't forever, and frankly I'm prepared to endure a lot worse to make it happen. 

There's only one side effect of the clomid that I can't stand, and that is the uncontrollable mood swings. I was really surprised when after the first six or so rounds I read that less than 1% of women in clinical studies reported this side effect. The infertility message boards I frequent would suggest otherwise, but afterwards I spent quite some time reflecting on whether I was truly experiencing a side effect or rather on some level was giving myself permission to be moody. I'm someone that prides myself on being even keeled, on thinking things through, focusing on the positives, showing kindness and conducting myself in such a way that I can look back on and feel good about no matter what stress I'm under. You could forgive a man who married a woman like me for being a bit bewildered and annoyed when all of a sudden she becomes angry all the time, irritated by the most inconsequential detail and sometimes just plain mean. It was really for him, my amazing husband, that I wanted to know if this was truly something beyond my control.

So the next month I got to day 3 of the clomid, right when I'd typically start feeling the anger and frustration and impatience, and I tried my hardest to stay positive. To keep being the wife that I wanted to be, to be the person my parents raised me to be. Nope. The crankytrain express pulled into the station and hung out for over 48 hours just like it had in months previous. Either the research is flawed, or I'm just that special. 

Most times I apologize within a few minutes of snapping. Or I remind my husband that I'm not myself, and that I need his understanding. It doesn't work. We argue more each month from day 3 to 5 of my clomid therapy than we would in six months under normal circumstances. I believe it's made all the harder because for as different as we are, we RARELY argue. We were really good friends for years before we began dating, lived together for five years before we got married and enjoy a relationship that I recognize as rare and special.

So why can't we figure those couple days a month out? I don't know. I hate feeling like I'm not myself, and I'm ashamed of my inability to control my emotions. I see it as a weakness, and in some respects it scares me. I also wish that my husband could help diffuse an argument instead of getting defensive and angry. But we're both human, and all I can do is keep trying my best and hope that next month I don't have to take what I now refer to as "the bitch pill." Or that I win the lottery and can afford to get a hotel room for a couple nights every month and leave my husband in peace.

Infertility is a crisis, one with no clear end in sight. There's no hard data about divorce rates among infertile couples, but I've read a few collections of stories on the subject. For some couples it brings them closer, and for others it drives them apart. We do know that 66% of divorced couples are childless, and that people with children are more likely to stay married. 

Irrational as it may be, sometimes I worry that my husband will leave me before we can get pregnant or run the course of treatment options and adopt. I've voiced these concerns to him in late night conversations, and he thinks they are ludicrous. I remind him that if he was with someone else he wouldn't be going through this, since I'm the one with the disease- and he tells me that he doesn't want to have children with anyone other than me. I ask him if he misses his carefree wife who would drink beer with him and could look at a pregnant woman without crying. He tells me that he loves me for doing this, and that he can't wait to see me as a mom. I tell him that I'm trying really hard to stay positive and pleasant and somewhat sane and that I'm really sorry for the times I fail, and he tells me that I am the strongest person he knows. I'm truly lucky, and despite those couple of days every month we definitely fall into the category of couples who have grown closer rather than apart. Cross your fingers for us that it stays that way.

It's over for this month, at any rate. Now it's time to anxiously await a positive OPK. More on that soon.

Until next time,

Grace

On foot in mouth disease.

Infertility can be a very isolating experience. I can only imagine that it was more so back in the dark ages before the internet- before we were able to go visit a message board and share our obsession, frustration and most recent wacky idea as to how on earth we can just get effing knocked up already. Eating the core of a pineapple in five equal parts for the first five days after ovulation? 20 minutes of sunshine daily? Eating exactly one Brazil nut everyday? Have sex while standing on your head and singing gypsy chants? Sounds crazy, and it probably is, but there they are....these women that *swear* that it was what made it "their month." Except for that last one, I totally made that up. Might be fun though.

I'm fifteen months in and I haven't had "my month" yet. I try not to complain, some ladies have been at it longer and/or have more obstacles than I do. Plus there is SO much that I have been blessed with in my life. I'm 27 and married to essentially the nicest man on the planet. No, seriously. And he's cute, too. We just bought an adorable little bungalow in one of my favorite neighborhoods. I have a great family, and terrific friends. I've been a proud "dog mama" to two incredibly funny Jack Russell Terriers for nearly 7 years. What more could a girl want?

A baby. Yes, I know they cry and poop and are generally quite needy. I know that I will be sleep deprived, and my nipples will feel like they might fall off from constantly nursing. What is it, exactly, that compels people to say things like "if you knew how much work they were you wouldn't want one so badly?" If I wanted a doll to play dress-up with, I'd go to the store and buy myself one. I'd come home, crack a beer and brew coffee simultaneously (lord knows I haven't had any caffeine or alcohol in forever), fall asleep without checking my cervical mucus and sleep way past the timeframe for me to get the most accurate basal body temperature in the morning. I'd skip my twice daily exercise routine, the myriad of medications I take and the 16 supplements I lug around with me. I'd drink as much or as little water as I please, and I certainly wouldn't test my urine twice a day. I'd have sex exactly when and in the position I felt like.

Please, do not tell the infertility girl how great she has it because she doesn't have to do the work involved with parenting. I'm doing an enormous amount of work just for the chance to be a parent. It's true that I don't have first hand experience (aside from nannying several infants who certainly cry and poop) but WHY on earth would you shove that in my face? Every woman goes into a pregnancy with pie in the sky hopes that will be dashed eventually, and I'm sure you were no exception. If anything, I've had lots of extra time to research different parenting methods and decide exactly which pie I'm putting up there in the sky.

Are you still reading? You're either crazy or you love me, or likely a combination of both. I promise this blog won't be all negative ranting. With any luck (or maybe a brazil nut) eventually I will be too busy and sleep deprived with my crying, pooping baby to even update this thing.

Until next time,

Grace