Keep in mind that…

April 26, 2010

Keep in mind that: I’m a woman, I love to obsess and I like the idea of decorating a baby’s room and would feel less of a woman if I can’t carry a baby.

Keep in mind that: my husband is a man, he enjoys imported beer, he loves his life now and isn’t worried about the future and will be happy; just the two of us.

Keep in mind that: together this can make for some frustrating times.

I am learning to see things from the other side. I am willing to put his shoes (however smelly) on my feet and walk in them for a while. I understand that this is temporary. I know that I am stronger for it. I am learning to share my feelings less and laugh more. I take things in stride… some of the time. Hey, I’m not perfect yet.

When the final pee stick has been peed on, it will all be worth it. Nothing will frustrate, or hurt or make me feel empty.

Instead I will be nauseated, puffy and angry.

I can’t wait.

L*

Advertisements

Fighter.

April 25, 2010

I have always been a fighter. Never one to back down from confrontation, sometimes welcoming it with open arms.

Through this lengthy process that is fertility, I have learned to speak up, speak out and speak clearly. I make sure that I am heard, much to my doctor’s dismay.

I believe that there are doctors working in this area who really just want to help their patients achieve success and I believe that there are other doctors who can’t see past their own noses. Doctors who work for themselves, for their professional growth, for their published papers, for their television interviews. I say: whatever gets you through the night.

I am happy that having to go through this, I was born the way I am. Working through this comes natural to me. For once my sometimes abrasive nature comes in handy. I work for me. I am number one. You’re right there’s no “I” in team, that’s  because there’s no team, this is a singleton sport.

I have recently hit more bumps in the road, and working through them takes a little more energy, a little more faith and a little more heart. I’m still more positive than negative, I still love seeing my friends and their newborns, so I know everything will be ok.

As the Barenaked Ladies say, “nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight” .

Good thing I’m a fighter.

L*

Riddle me this-

April 22, 2010

I woke up today, on this the day 15 that I have spent all month waiting for, to pee on a stick.

What is it that I see? A line, of course.

Not just any line, no… a faint one. “Uh-oh” I thought. Feeling as though it was the start of a not-so-great-day.

I went in for a blood test, as you are supposed to once you see any kind of line on a pee stick. Almost two hours later a less than friendly nurse calls me to tell me that I am not pregnant.

This is our second month in this situation. It’s called a chemical pregnancy meaning that the only way that the pregnancy was confirmed was through a chemical test, even if it’s not viable. Here we go again with the word viable. I guess my body isn’t quite catching on… or catching up. You can consider chemical pregnancies as really early miscarriages. That didn’t help me to feel better either. I guess the heart of the problem is that I’m not entirely sure what’s going on. The issue of control (or lack thereof) is making me crazy.

I cried buckets today. I hurt. My issue is not the lack of pregnancy, because I believe that it’s coming… all in due time. My problem with the past two months is the not knowing. The fact that doctors, nurses and women who have lived through fertility struggles cannot answer the questions- “why is this happening?” or “what can I do for next month to improve the outcome?” because the real answer is: no one knows.

I feel stronger for living through this, because that baby, when he or she makes their grand entrance, will be loved like no other.

I leave you now,  

tired and tear-stained and aching…

smiling and dreaming and not giving up.

L*

This is the time of month where I like to call myself gramps… a clever word combination of being grumpy and crampy. Yes, clever. I said it.

Your judging doesn’t scare me, not even bother me because I’m gramps, and I’m ready to fight.

It’s the grumpy side of gramps that I hate. Being the first real symptom of gramps, it makes me want to pull my hair (and the hair of those around me) out. This symptom is probably what everyone else around me hates the most too, because in my world grumpy never suffers in silence, while cramps always do.

The second stage of gramp-y-ness is little abdominal pains, sometimes called twinges. I hate the twinges, and what a ridiculous word. It’s a common one to be found on fertility sites as one of the early signs of pregnancy. Early signs of pregnancy range from feeling absolutely nothing to armpit and wrist pain. Is your nose blocked or are there extra veins on your legs? You’re probably pregnant (or coming down with a cold and varicose veins).

The final stage of gramp-y-ness is the bloat and the unrelenting desire to punch someone square in the face. I’m not violent the rest of the month, but when you combine my cramps and a bad mood, watch out. I am more likely than not going to insult, hurt or make you feel bad. If I am unable (or on the off-chance, unwilling) to do those things, chances are I will become the self-loather I always knew I could be.

Is this entry dark?

Good.

Feel the pain of gramps, God knows I do.

L*

Teacher.

April 16, 2010

I am a teacher of high school English. More specifically grade 9.

I love it.

Teaching is not what I planned to do with my life but I’m here now and I can’t imagine doing anything else.

Going through the struggle that is fertility can take its toll. There are days when I’d rather stay curled up in bed than come to work. While those days are few and far between, they do occur. Coming to work on those days can sometimes be my saving grace.

These kids (ew teenagers– which is what so many people think) are incredible resilient little human beings. Some of them demonstrate strength and others kindness in ways that I would have never believed possible.

While I dream of having a child and watching him (or her) grow, it’s not the first birthday or the kindergarten year I’m dreaming of. I don’t long for an 8-year-old or a 10-year-old for that matter. While all the stages of development must surely be exciting, I can’t wait to see my child reach teenage-dom. That’s right. I want to know if I will have a considerate, helpful and caring young adult.

Don’t let teenagers fool you, they’re a lot nicer than you think.

L*

Learning support.

April 13, 2010

Support comes in all shapes and sizes. There is moral support, lumbar support and support groups. You have your regular run of the mill wrist brace (for wrist support) or extra support bras. There is tech support, child support and ankle support. You get the picture.

I’m in the business of fertility support. And what a lucrative business it is. I spend more money per month on that than anything else in my life. Almost equal to my mortgage. Imagine the things we could do with that money…

With that money I will conceive a child. I say will because it inevitably will happen. Will it happen for the bargain price of two grand? Or will the cost be much, much higher with an emotional side price? Only time will tell.

I think the thing I love most about the support around me, is the desire people in my life seem to want to learn. It’s a compliment in fact. I am passionate and honest about what this road entails, and bless their hearts when they ask the wrong questions. I embrace their learning, with light, happy arms.

Those people are the ones who count.

I never will forget that.

L*

Busy bee.

April 12, 2010

Usually, in the life of the fertility challenged, we count the moments that bring us to the testing day. The tick-tock of a very slow clock.

This month for me however has been very different. I had my insemination on a less than convenient day and have been rushing around ever since. I had a wedding, grading due (as a teacher it is the one downfall…) and an illness in the family.

There has been a lot on my plate.

For this I am, not thankful, but relieved. I love spending my month taking care of other things. Instead of scanning my mirror image for blue veins on my breasts or sitting idly trying to feel myself cramp. I am running around like a headless chicken, not paying attention to signs or symptoms.

I am happy to spend time with family, through the good and the bad.

No matter what happens this month, it will be ok, because it’s not the only thing in my life.

For once.

L*

Paper skirt.

April 6, 2010

Tomorrow morning I will have (yet another) insemination.  This is the first month where my husband and I will not head in together and share a breakfast while we wait. Instead tomorrow he will head in for the “deposit” and I will meet him back there later on.

None of these rituals are actually important in the scheme of things, I just sought some solace in the fact that we had a ritual. Tomorrow I’ll embark on my first (and hopefully last) ritual free insemination day.

What will I wear for the occasion?

The provided paper skirt.

L*

Close.

April 5, 2010

How close do you have to be to someone to be able to communicate without speaking? Sisters-close? Mother-daughter-close? Best friend-close?

How about fertility-clinic-patient-caller-close?

So yeah, that was today. I went in for my least favorite doctor to have a personal probe into my woman parts. He found that out of the 4 follicles they saw Friday, only 2 continued to grow. But they are big and juicy, something the other months lacked. He also found improvements in other areas as well, but I won’t bore you with clinical words like: vagina or uterine lining…

What I really feel is worth mentioning is the woman who works at my clinic, dressed in white scrubs and a hands free headset. She is the friendly face who guides me to my room each month. She is a familiar face, of the “where everybody knows your name” variety.

Today, she spoke to me without speaking. Kind of like the way your best friend could relay how boring the other person you’re sitting with is, without having to utter a word. Or the way your mother could scold you as a child, with just one look. Today as I sat in my chair in the waiting room (next to my mother who is kind enough to accompany me on the days my husband can’t) this woman who on every other month called my name and lead me to my room, eyeballed me. Not just the eyeball. Nope. The eyeball was the first move followed by the point to the bathroom with a questioning look, so I followed her lead nodding yes, I do have to pee (this is something I do each month too, most likely out of nerves) then she puts up two fingers indicating my room number. She does all this with a smile. I am taken aback, not insulted, almost pleased (that my experience here is so personal) but not sure if this is a good thing or not.

Before this day, being overly familiar at my clinic was the receptionists who are “happy” to see you again, expressing interest in you and how you’re doing. Today we jumped to a whole new level.

When I walked out of my examination room, I felt obliged to exchange numbers with my new bf.

I didn’t though. Not because she’s not nice, or I’m not sure we’d hit it off, because I am sure of that. No. I didn’t exchange numbers with her because where else can we go from here?

This relationship ended before it began.

L*

 

Today is the day

April 4, 2010

Today is the day where I start to see the glass as half full. Today is the day where I love my life. Today is the day that begins my spring and summer mood.

I am uplifted.

It’s Easter. This is a special day for me; it’s a day where I reflect on my faith, my commitments and my relationships. There’s a renewal in the air, and I run with it.

This coming week, I will again be inseminated. I will pray, excercise and meditate. I will have my reflexology, eat my vitamins and eat an alkaline diet (or as close to one as possible, besides the Cadbury eggs…). In a few words: I will take care of me.

This week is a busy one for me too; there’s grading to finish, a wedding to be in and a paper to write. Once this week ends I will have only one long week left to wait. Wait and see. Pray for the goods. Smile when I feel like crying, and all the likes.

Today is the day where I realized… I am totally digging my whole existence. Deep.

Happy.

L*