And so it begins…

I’m hoping that this little blog somehow reaches across the vast internet and touches at LEAST one person going through the same struggles I am facing. In a nutshell- I have unexplained infertility (I guess? My body makes the eggs but that’s about it) and my husband and I have resorted to IVF to have a child. For those who don’t know what IVF is, in vitro fertilization is a process where doctors take follicles from my body (which sucks and is painful) and they combine those with my husband’s swimmers and watch them develop in a Petri dish until they feel they are ready to return home (my uterus). We then have to wait two weeks to find out if the embryos decided to hang out and grow. Unfortunately, our 1st attempt was a big fat negative (BFN).
A friend of mine (known as Z) has a theory that maybe those embryos would’ve grown up to be male strippers so maybe it’s best it didn’t work. At least she managed the 1st smile out of me since the BFN. I can tell you that there are several things a woman does NOT want to hear when dealing with such a heartbreak.
1. “Think positive” really? While there are moments of doubt and you prep yourself for all the nasty what ifs so you aren’t completely shattered if you get a BFN, positive thinking is one of the few things I do have to TRY and muster up sanity. There are a few friends I will allow to get away with saying this but only because I love them dearly and that is the type of positive people they are.
2. “If it’s meant to be…” Worst thing ever to say to a woman like me. I am not 16 wishing a boy liked me. I am a woman who wants to have a child. It SHOULD be “meant to be” as that is what a woman SHOULD be able to do.
3. “Be thankful for what you do have” yep. I get that. And I am very thankful for my friends, family, and husband who have put up with my horrible mood swings (awesome side effect from my daily injections of hormones). I don’t need to be reminded that some people have less. What is hard is looking at that spare bedroom that SHOULD be a nursery. I’m thankful I have a home with more than 1 bedroom but I am not thankful that I can’t seem to fill it with more than house plants and the boxes of new bathroom amenities that husband plans to use for a remodel project (there’s a whole other blog).
4. “You’re doing too much! Worry about just you” if I did that I would go insane. The world does not stop spinning just because I am doing IVF. Friends still need baby showers, dinners still need cooked, dogs still need love, work still goes (although I am considering a vacation following next attempt). What I need to focus on is lowering my stress levels. Easier said then done.
5. “Chin up!” Maybe in time. But the initial shock of NOPE it didn’t work is the last thing that’s gonna raise my chin. Grief is different for everybody. I’m not going to go dancing after this news. I’m going to cower in a corner for a good 48 hours and pray to God as to why it didn’t work the 1st time.
6. “It takes a lot of couples more than 1 try at IVF for success.” So. A lot of them got it the first try too. Some never get it. I am still victim to the “it may or may not work”.
Things that are ok to say.
1. “I’m sorry there are no words” nope there isn’t a single word you could say to make me smile (except that maybe they would’ve grown up to be male strippers)
2. “I’ll pray for you” aka “sending you good vibes”. I’ll take em. Can’t hurt!
3. “If there is anything you need” there won’t be but thanks for offering.
4. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through” Probably not. Especially if you’re holding your toddler on your lap while you send me that message. That is way more appropriate than “I know how you must feel”.
So now my body is in a break and we sit down with the doctor in 2 weeks to review everything from our 1st attempt. In about a month I will get to hop on the magical medicine ride again and spread my legs for numerous transvaginal ultrasounds. (Sorry if that is TMI but it is the ugly truth I have to endure). I also have the pleasure of driving 2 hours both ways for a ridiculous number of appointments and have my blood drawn every week by people who never seem to be able to find my veins. So for now, there is our story. I’ll keep you posted on my ups and downs along the way and hope that maybe a stranger can relate or that friends may learn to understand that this is NOT fun. Until then, all we can do is keep trying, hoping, praying, meditating, begging, and pleading for a child (or two).
Over and out