What I Want

Infertility continues to beat the entire shit out of me. She is the worse abuser. Not only are her kicks and punches indescribably painful, but they’re well placed. I know they’re there. I feel the impact, but none of it is visible to the naked eye.

I just wish I had one friend, one family member who could or would hold my hand and let me cry. I don’t want to hear I’m sorry. I just want someone to say, “Fuck this shit. Fuck infertility. Let’s go drink and pout.” I want them to be angry with me and okay with my anger. I know that’s a lot to ask of people. We always want to make others feel better. I’m guilty of it too.

It looks as if we have finally diagnosed my infertility: fibroids, endometriosis and bad tubes. Perhaps I would have become a mother, if I had caught the tube thing earlier. It doesn’t matter now because to top it off, my eggs aged prematurely.

I thought I didn’t have anymore tears to give this, but here I sit. Crying. It’s ugly. It’s a tear-stained, puffy, snot-falling cry. I know this is not a punishment from God, but it certainly feels like it. This certainly feels like more than I was ever meant to bear. How does one find authentic joy when their body has betrayed them so?

The answer to that question doesn't matter anymore. This long, dramatic, ridiculous chapter of my life is over. I'd like to say that I finally have the strength to walk away, but that's not the truth. I'm just out of weapons. I'm defeated. It's not the way I wanted it to end, but at least I can say I fought - no matter how un-valiantly - I definitely fought...to a fault and likely to my detriment.

FET #2---Done!

Alright!  Two out of three remaining Rotties are in.

I tried to cancel this transfer or at least delay it, but Witch Doctor wasn't having it. So, it's done.  Here are the things I'd like to address.

1. Is anyone else perplexed when they're told to arrive with a full bladder, but not so full that you can't hold it?  Uhm.....Since I'm not in the habit of testing my bladder, I don't really know how much liquid will give me the desired effect of full, but not leaking.  Needless to say, I over shot it today.  I had to let out a little. Oops!

2.  The funniest thing happened when we arrived.  My husband was so freaking nervous that I was comforting him.  We both had to laugh at that.  LOL!  I reminded him that I was the one who would have a catheter rammed up my privates.  He couldn't dispute that.  All of his nervousness went away, or he pretended it did.

3.  I really hope anyone going through something like this has a really great partner.  This particular transfer was really difficult for me, as I no longer have grand illusions of being special enough to get a baby out of this.   My husband wouldn't let my misery stop his optimism.  I really love him for it. (Did I write really enough?)

Since I'm supposed to test on Christmas, which is a Wednesday, Doc told me just to get my blood drawn on Monday.  I'm still torn, guys.  I've been through this before.  No matter how you prepare, a negative hurts TREMENDOUSLY.  However, I also have no patience.  But I think my need to not spiral into sadness and enjoy my Father-in-law's visit, will actually outweigh my impatience.  My Father-in-law's birthday is Christmas Eve for goodness sake.

We'll see.  I'm just resting now, and trying to get out all of my thoughts.  Hopefully, that will keep me from obsessing over it in the days to come.

Oh...switching subjects now.  Last night, a friend of mine told me she'd just found out she was pregnant with twins.  I'm happy for her, but heartbroken for me.  I love my friend, but she wasn't infertile.  She didn't get pregnant in three months, freaked out, and lied to her doctor to get clomid.  Now she's having twins.  I'll be by her side, as MY dream comes true for her.  Again, I'm happy for her, but it still stings ALOT.  *bitter, party of one over here :-) *

Side Note:  I will continue estrogen shots every three days.  Plus, I'll take progesterone shots and inserts daily.  Yay for butt shots!

Keeps Getting Better

My life just keeps getting better.  I had to drop my pants in the doctor's office so my husband could give me my first estrogen shot in the butt.  OMG!

It was quite embarrassing, but it didn't hurt at all.  He has to give me these lovely shots every three days for the next two weeks.  I feared I'd have to give myself at least one of the shots because I'm going out of town.  However, it works out that hubby can give me a shot right before I leave and I'll be due for another when I return.  THANK GOODNESS.  There's no way I could have handled that.
Ok...I guess I could handle that, but I don't want to. I admire the self-shooters.  They are a brave batch of women.  I am a chicken.