When I started writing this blog I envisioned myself pouring every gory detail, unapologetically being bluntly honest about every endeavor, I just couldn't. As with every type of hardship, no amount of clever word play ever really justifies the immense pool of emotion that you're constantly treading.
Here is a recap of the last three cycles.
Previously before we started seeing an RE (Reproductive Endocrinologist) we had gone through a few tests, a surgery and three cycles of Clomid with my OBGYN, that did nothing but land me in the ER and give me a pretty serious cyst. Following that my OBGYN immediately said he no longer felt comfortable or confident treating me and suggested we visit their fertility clinic.
After six weeks of different tests and procedures with our RE we had our diagnosis and he gave us our course of action, we felt amazingly optimistic and excited. Honestly so much so that I caved and agreed we could buy a few baby things like my husband has wanted to for quite some time, I felt like I wouldn't look foolish doing it we'd finally be pregnant in a cycle or two.
The first cycle, I was so sure... It didn't happen. I couldn't sleep I'd wake up constantly crying. Try harder I thought, I'll do more research, pull out at all the stops the second cycle will work.
The second cycle, I was methodical, diligent and persist. I had been having lunch with a friend, talking about possibilities and plans for my child... Later that day it didn't happen.
The thing with all this is you have two days to get over it and move on to the next cycle, like you're an animal, more poking, prodding and pills. There isn't a lot of time to decide what to do when a cycle doesn't work, you're supposed to believe that, that is going to be THE cycle. So when you're for sure not pregnant two days later you're already back in the office for more testing and meds to prep for the next chance. You're no sooner grieving the loss of another missed chance and you're on your back chasing the next chance.
Its not this beautiful time in your life, you don't go to your appointments skipping, you half glance at your wonderful receptionist as she apologetically nods, yes she knows you're in for your third go and you only get three chance with each type of treatment.
You only get three chances.
In this method of treatment, we've used all of ours up with nothing to show for it.
Our third was the hardest on me. They found another cyst in my blocked tube and I was tired of doing this. It is technically my sixth medicated cycle, and I'm tired of feeling sick at the end of this cycle I will have throughout the day be taking nine pills, I have to set alarms to remind me there are so many.
You experience a lot of weird side effects, while still having to remain a functional adult, inside I'm a hot fucking mess (literally and figuratively) my joints hurt, I sweat like a pig in 50 degree weather, I'm dizzy, horrendous mood swings and I cry at the drop of a hat.
I have to say I'm okay though. I shouldn't complain, this isn't life or death, many women live happy lives never having children.
I know that with each cycle that doesn't work, I'm not dying much as it feels like I am. As much as I can't breath or imagine having to face the next day with the reality it didn't work again, that my body doesn't work. In the grand scheme of things this is not the end of the world. Ton's of people have it far worse and I should consider myself lucky.
Except I am not them & they are not me. If their happiness is greater than mine it doesn't mean I can't be happy. Just as if their sadness is greater then mine, it doesn't mean I'm not allowed to be sad.
This feels like the end of the world to me. I am sad, underneath the knowledge of knowing that in the foreseeable future I will wake up and life will go on... there is this monumental disconsolate.
I'd be a terrible liar if I said I felt anything more optimistic than ambivalence as of late. Thats the truth that a lot of people don't want to or feel like they can't share. Like every moment of every day I'm supposed to plaster this big fake smile on my face and say that none of this has affected me.
If you're reading this looking for the up beat optimistic poster child for infertility I am not it. For the most part this process is ugly, you make the best of it because you have to by some stretch try to continue on a normal life for your sanities sake. However its something thats constantly there with you, in your every quiet moment it is all you want to think about most of the time, in one capacity or another. You're devoting all your faith, energy, time and money into it. This is not a fucking hobby, you can't devote part-time to it, your whole life is centered around medications and doctor's appointments.
Infertility is not a choice, it is a disease. Just because my disease will not physically kill me, seeking treatment should not be considered a privilege. Wanting to bring a chid into this world and making it my life's goal is not selfish.
I am not just another pathetic childless woman who is nasty and bitter.
I am not sharing this because I want anyone to feel bad for me.
Part of this writing is for me. For me to look back on and see how far I've come, even when its ugly and raw, it is real.
Most of this writing is to break stereotypes and misconceptions.
I've learned a lot of about myself during this journey. When I used to get so jealous, I'd think these people were so ungrateful if they only knew how many people wish they were in their position. It was naive of me, it made me stop to think of all the things I took for granted, all the opportunities I had been given that other people pray for. I've gotten a lot better at counting my own blessings instead of other peoples.
I've stopped comparing myself or my situations to others, I own my advantages and disadvantages they are no more or no less than that of others around me.
I wouldn't choose this, however I know that I've learned so much from it that I will carry with me the rest of my life. I know that nothing I endure is by accident and God has a purpose for all of it, as much as I want to be in control of this situation, I can't. I am not in control, and that is okay.
This post came off sad and angry, because through this I have been.
However I have also been blessed with moments of insane happiness, friends and family that have given me unwavering support and an unspeakably sympathetic husband who has been my rock through these last few cycles.
We have a What's Next appointment in a few weeks, and I don't know where we'll go from here but I am at peace with this and ready for anything.
No comments:
Post a Comment