Writing about infertility without sounding melodramatic or self-pitying is . . . well, it's like trying to have a baby. It can get complicated.
However, because my real-life friends / readers - it's true, I have at least two of them - have been asking about how things are going with it, I figured I'd try to talk about it here (YAY!). Selfishly, it's easier for me to briefly address it here once versus repeatedly in person.
Basically, the cocktail of meds I'd been taking for my "thin" variation of PCOS (Metformin & Femara, for anyone here who speaks fluent fertility), which quickly worked to conceive Master P, hasn't done it this time around. We're about to bring in bigger babymaking guns (more for the fluent: HMG shots, FSH test, IUI); this is all code for "INSERT HOPE AND DOLLAR $IGNS HERE".
There's the science end. On the fuzzy emotional end, it's . . . well, complicated.
First and foremost, it's so fitting that Miss Champagne Tastes here managed to find the expensive way to have babies, even if inadvertently - no regular ol' glass of wine and a date night here, thank you very much! Just like my innate ability to covet the most expensive handbag in a room, so goes my reproductive system. Irony aside, I am grateful we can afford the expense (and angry on behalf of those who can't, but that's another rant for a different day.)
The everyday stuff varies. I go days without thinking about this, happily bumbling along, even on the weeks when I have a bunch of lady doctor's appointments, which are just as intrusive as your annual lady doctor visits except much more so. Fun!
And then some days I open up Twitter or Facebook, see one of the seemingly endless pregnancy announcements, and suddenly want to drive my mental Trophy Wife Wagon off the side of the road. Whether it's the hormones or just normal emotions, I don't know, but on those days I just can't. I log off, I log out, I'm leveled . . . I can't.
Speaking of, most days I feel like my normal self, others I feel like that head-spinning "Exorcist" scene, wholly unable to control my mood swings despite assurances my meds aren't the crazy making kind. It's strange and a little scary not knowing when that particular sky is going to fall, not to mention second guessing my emotions - is it the meds? Normal feelings? I am Sam I am?
There are days, most days, when I enjoy spending time with my mom friends - all of whom except one are either pregnant or just had Baby #2 - and don't think about this for a second. And then there are days when I bow out of whatever social commitment, because I just can't.
There are days when I spot a pregnant sort out & about and think nothing of it, barely noting it as I might her hair color or (knowing me) her shoe choice. And then there are days when I immediately come down with a case of the "WHY HER AND NOT MEEEEEs???", as if pregnancy were some sort of zero-sum game with only a handful of babies to go around.
On other days, it's a terrible variety of "WHY ME AND NOT HERRRR???" when I pointlessly try to figure out how I got dealt this (likely genetic) card, that sort of cosmic barganining I imagine the sick of all varieties deal in.
I'm trying to take better care of myself - exercise, diet, sleep, yada yada - and be mindful about taking on additional stress or obligations. My inner Type A is deeply unhappy about this, but I'm doing my best to enjoy more down time
Up and down, good and bad, ebb and flow . . . it's life, really, just a bit of life that happens to involve some needles. Not the fun type of needles that would erase my wrinkles, unfortunately, but still.
So - friends, thank you for asking. Please feel free to bring this up or not, so long as you think twice before the well-intended yet tragic phrase "Your time will come!" leaves your lips. Forgive me if I don't get to events or emails as quickly as I once did. I'm still here, just trying to make it a simpler, healthy here.
Back to the business of frilly nonsense next time, I promise. Pinky swear.
[With apologies to my late Grandmother Jean for publicly discussing (a) my ladyparts and (b) my feelings, both equally bad in her blue-shadowed eyes.]