Last night was the worst I’ve felt about this entire IVF protocol to date. I ugly cried in the evening and then I cried again this morning. Simultaneously hubs was incredibly supportive and comforting and honestly I don’t know how he handled it. As I said to him, “the string that was keeping me together for the past while snapped and now there’s nothing” and somehow he grabbed the string and held me together. It didn’t kill me, and I believe it’s because of him and his letting me rant and rave about some horrible things without judging me (too much- he did reel me back in a bit when my distortions got too out of hand). I’m glad I’m going through this with him and not someone else…. he really does make this more tolerable. My girlfriends helped some too. I sent out the “oh dear god the world is ending” of texts last night and they jumped in to remind me they are there and of how strong I am and we are in it together. I can’t quite verbalized how much it means to have those ladies in my life and providing me with unwavering support. Thank you my friends.
Sometimes the horrible and ugly side of your humanity comes out in this entire process. The resentment, the jealousy, the sheer rage at other people and their decisions. And I know I’m not that person, but rather I have that side of me. You’re going to tell me you haven’t had to experience 20+ vaginal ultrasounds or the doctor appointments every other day that impact your career? No weird testing that makes your reproductive system start cramping really badly? No calling in to identify when you started your period or when your last bowel movement was? No bloodwork twice a week? No medications that make you feel constantly bloated, emotional, and like an overfull plastic bag ready to pop? No crying every night at being stabbed with multiple needles to get pregnant? No having sex for weeks on end because again, sex drive is gone and how the hell do you have sex when you have to get stabbed with multiple painful shots and then try to like the person who just stabbed you while also using protection because you can’t unintentionally get pregnant while doing all of this? No serious depths of despair at the realization that something’s has been taken away from you? Something so deep and visceral and real that you’re ready to commit homicide when someone tells you they didn’t really have to try to get pregnant? Wait- all you did was have sex to get pregnant? Wow. And it was a HAPPY experience? Whoa. No fears over how many thousands of dollars the next round of medication is going to cost to try to get you pregnant? No radical change in your relationship with your significant other both good and bad? No? No. Then seriously, I’m going to own that side of my humanity and you’re going to have to stop and rethink a few things.
And simultaneously I am insanely happy for the people around me that are getting pregnant. An old college friend of mine just had their first- a son. Another friend informed me on Saturday they’re due in October. I get to be an aunt in October as well. Two of my colleagues from work each had their babies in December and January. Another of my friends kids is turning one next month. Hubs’ godbrother just had another baby and another of his side literally had another baby last week. The list goes on and on… and I sit and wait and get injections and hormones. Is it possible to hate everyone and love them unconditionally as well? There’s a reason that we help our children to manage conflicting feelings. By the time we’re adults we should have a better grip on the depths of how horrendous it can be to try to tolerate this kind of conflict without hitting or kicking or screaming. Man did that child like part of my brain kick back on recently. I just could not tolerate the conflict. I NEEDED hubs last night, and had he been unavailable today’s post would have been very different.
It’s going to take me a bit of time, maybe a few days, maybe a bit longer, and I will recover. I just need a little TLC and some time to let everything sink in and really register. I’ll be praying that their child is healthy and that they somehow beat our “two in seven” odds that they don’t pass on the BRAC2 gene and hopefully it won’t be a girl. They’ll have to wait until the child turns 18 to do that genetic testing and then take any kind of preventative measures from there. At the same time, I’ll stick to trusting science, the training of a fantastic RE, and the knowledge that I’m doing everything in my power to protect my children in my own way. I can’t do anything else but wait and trust… maybe find a little pixie dust.