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.

Estradiol

The day after my egg retrieval, Missy, my beloved dog, fainted on me.
The day I started my Estradiol in preparation for my frozen embryo transfer, we had to let her go.
I will miss that dog so much.

She was my husband's dog and became mine through marriage.  She hated the dog that I brought into the marriage, so we started off on the wrong foot.  But as the years went on, I realized she was in tune with me.  She became more gentle when my period arrived. If there was a thunderstorm, she herded every member of the family into the same room--- I'm talking humans and dogs.  I think she thought that was the only way we could be safe.  On days when my husband went to work and I tried to drown in my sorrows of infertility, she would bark and bark, until I took her for a walk.  I know she probably didn't care that I was depressed, and she certainly wasn't getting me up for my own benefit.  But the fact that she didn't let me stay in that bed, saved my life on many occasions.

What sucks about losing Missy is that she was only ten.  She loved life, walks, my Husband and the youngest canine member of our family, three-year-old Roxie.  Missy developed a tumor that trapped fluid in her heart cavity.  As the fluid built up, her heart couldn't beat properly.  She wasn't in pain, her heart just stopped beating enough to sustain her.  We had that cavity drained three times, before we had to just...let her go:-(

*sigh* The image above is of the calendar my doctor sent me to prepare for the frozen embryo transfer.
I am popping so many pills these days it's ridiculous.  I'm just hoping my hormones don't get the best of me this time.  I'm also hoping for a positive pregnancy test.

I know the combination of subjects in this post are odd, but my Missy and this IVF experience will always be linked in my mind, regardless of the outcome.