3 posts tagged “infertile”

The title of today's entry brought to you by my glorious husband...

Lots of things on my mind as we start out little foray this morning, but first and formost, these crazy fucks.  I'm reminded of this one proverb that I heard on The West Wing, and I cant find it so bear with me as I try to retell it from memory.

A man sits at home and hears a news report that a hurricane is coming, and that people were being asked to evacuate the area.  He prays to God, and stays in his home, believing that he will be ok and that God will save him.  The hurricane is bearing down on him, and the police start coming door to door, to help folks get to safety.  The man tells the police that he will stay where he is, that God will save him.  After the hurricane passes, the area begins to flood.  Rescue workers with a boat come by and try to take the man to safety and he tells them to keep on going, that God will save him.  The man eventually dies; a mixture of exposure, hypothermia and dehydration.  When he meets God in heaven he asks, "Why didnt you save me?  I've always been loyal and devout!"  God replies, "I sent you a news report, a police man, and a boat." 

Anyhoodle... you get what I'm trying to say.  These people had 4 weeks to get the poor girl to a doctor.  They were sent friends and family to try to persuade them to save the girl, and in the end, she died.  Nice job.  I'm glad that the police are pressing charges, and I hope that this serves as a lesson for the next group of idiots. 

Today I get my uterus filled to the brim with salt water.  Fun shit, right?  I'm not looking forward to it.  I'm sure it will be embarresing, uncomfortable, and useless.  What if they find something, you ask?  Well, for shits and giggles lets go down that road.  I'll play that game.  Say my uterus is bisected.  What the hell can we do about it?  Say my uterus has jagged edges.  What the hell can we do about it?  Say my uterus is all misshaped and odd.  What the hell can we do about it?  We already know that I can get pregnant.  So the issue of any lining problems is out the window.  So what does that leave us?  Giant odd misshaped polyps and fibriods... both of which involve some serious surgery and the potiential for further problems due to scar tissue.  So if you see it from my perspective, this is a stupid stupid procedure.  But, seeing as how I have no control of what tests are done to me anymore, I'll play the game.  Also, I'm still going on the "You've probably just had back luck" prognosis that the doctor told us the first day.  I mean seriously, ffs... is the inflating of my damned hoochie really necessary?  

I am fully preparing for all of this testing to go down, and karyotypes investigated and discussed and for it all to just end up being: "Yeah... we dunno."  Which would totally blow. 

I'm not usually this pessimistic about things. If there is a problem, I am generally the first to be proactive and say, "Hey!  Lets fix this shit!"  But not so much with this infertility crap.  Oh, by the way... you'll love this cute little factoid!  My insurance doesn believe that multiple miscarriages is interfility at all.  Oh no.  You've gotten pregnant... therefore, by definition, you are fertile.  Cute.  So, I have that stigma gone.  However... I still have been pregnant twice with nothing to show for it.  Thats kind of a downer.  On top of that, its my belief that even today's medical OB/GYN community has no goddamned clue what they're doing.  Everyone does something different.  What one book says you should do, one doctor will tell you that it wont matter.  What one doctor tells you, another will tell you something else.  The range of "normal" anything is from 0 to 10,000,000.  This doesnt help.  And I am sick of all that, "Every woman is different" crap.  If someone had told me, when I got out of the hospital the first time, that I should not go to work then I totally wouldnt have.  Every book i'd read said that.  But the doctor looked me dead in the eyes and said, "Yeah, you'll be fine!"  So... take a day off of work when I should be racking up leave?  Or go to work since the doctor said everything was ok?  What would you have done?

I'm honestly sick and tired of bitching about this.  I am also sick and tired of being preoccupied with all things infertility.  I am (and oh, I'm gonna milk this) not infertile.  So why all of the fucking tests for women who cannot conceive?  I can conceive.  Pretty well, apparently.  I just end up killing them.  Lets test for that fun shit.  Leave my uterus alone.  Didja hear me?  Leave my uterus alone!

After some pressuring from both M and Meta I have an appointment here for Friday.  I'm gettin a facial as well as my eyebrows done and an aromatherapy massage.  I also wanted a pedicure, but thats not something they do there.  This place is down in Old Town, so of course, no parking.  But its on Friday when M has his class and after it we'll hang out. 

Went to see the doctor today.  Bascially she thinks I just have bad luck and its nothing serious.  But to err on the side of caution, I'm, of course, being tested for

every

single

problem

in

the

book.

Today they took some blood for a genetic makeup of me and my husband, as well as some blood to see if all he HGC is all out of my body.  If so, I'll come back later this week to give s'more.  And after that, once I get my period I get some salt water injected into my hoochie and given an ultrasound.  Sounds fun.

Anyway, all of that should tell us something.  And after its all done, we go back to talk to her, decompress witih the info, and then get right back to tryin again.  Hopefully by the end of May and our vacation we'll be able to start again and do so during our relax session.  Anyway, that was today. 

Still not entirely happy.

Oh man... Im so depressed.

Monday I have that doctor to go to, and I was fine up till yesterday when the office called and said that my insurance makes me register with the Aetna infertility hotline.

What a horrible horible thing to make women do. I called, though... And was told that my company partnership waived it... So no biggie. Just show up with the referal. But it got me so fucked up for the rest of the day. I feel like a failure. I feel like I shouldn’t have ever needed this. I feel like this is a giant insult to me. It is a huge insult. Its like I'm this defective horrible watch that cant keep time. What do you do with watches like those? You throw them out.

I'm terrified that they're gonna say they cant help me... Or worse... That they poke and prod, prod and poke... For MONTHS or even years, and after all that money and all that time and all that stress... We find out that I just suck. And theres no reason for it.

Ever since I was a little kid... I had this feeling that even if I wanted to have a baby, that I never could. I don’t know why... But I carried that through me every step of my life. I just instinctively knew. I just KNOW. So therein is a problem... Because if I just say no altogether of any future pregnancies... I'm kinda dooming myself to my own self-fulfilling prophesy. But if I keep going, and find out its still true, then I realize my worst nightmare.

I'm just so sad. And I left my anxiety medication at home... So I have another 6 or so hours until I get it back in my body.

M keeps pesstering me to explain my feelings to him, but I cant. Why the hell should i? Its not like he will EVER understand what I am going thruogh. And I don’t wont to give my fears the dignity of speaking about them. He says that I'm not working on our marriage... But I don’t fucking care right now. I care about myself. I need to deal with myself, not him. I keep telling him that I don’t want to talk about it... But then he keeps poking and prodding and oh my god I really am about to tell him to pack up his shit and leave.

Why cant he get that HE IS THE LAST PERSON IN THE WORLD I WANT TO TALK TO ABOUT MY FUCKING INABILITY TO CARRY A FUCKING CHILD?!

He seems to be getting the picture lately, and hopefully will just take my depression in stride  Its nothing about him.  Its nothing against him.  I love him dearly.  I love that I can snugle up into his wonderful arms when it just gets way too much.  And I love how if I try to push him away eh hugs me anyway because he knows that thats exactly what I need.

Yesterday he asked if I still wanted this marriage.  Why the hell wouldnt I?  The question made me mad.  He loves to create overarching statements that try to encompas everything, when someone relatively small just happened.  Its annoying, and has on many occasions been the catalysts for couch sleeping... his not mine.  Bullshit.  He goes through moments like this all the time... its like a cycle.  I hate it.  "Do you still want to be married to me?" he'll ask in a meek ass voice after I've just said for him to leave me alone beacuse I'm mad, or sad, or just dont want to talk about it.  The more often he asks, the more my defenses to that question start to get stronger or angrier.  One day... I swear, he's just going to get a NO... only because I am sick of the question.  But he knows this.  He does.  Maybe thats just what he wants.

People handle things differently. Some people who are generally extroverted and happy really internalize bad things. Its not what their outward character is. Its undesireable. I want to bury it as deep as I possibly can. I never would have thought to seek out the temporary amnesia of ativan again... Since last time it was entirely unexpected and horrible annoying today. (I really wanna know what I fucking ate that day, or even how I got home) Last night, after the yelling was over, I remember a pleasant blur. Unforntunately today... I get to remember with stinging clarity.

I realize that dependence on artificial drugs to make the world fade away is an everyday and even historical occurance. This medication I take was originally made to sedate and induce amnesia... So as to help the mind cope with traumatic events. Its one of the more "special" anti anxieties on the market. Its even the medication that dentists give you when they talk of, "Sedation Dentistry".

I wish I had begun taking it 3 weeks ago... Or as soon as it was established that I'd lost our child. The rest would have been a wonderful blur... As opposed to the minute by minute which plays out in my head as I try to go through my day. And the humility of it all.

Carole Heath is pregnant. That little stick korean thing that was my friend in korea. Yeah... Accident. Chris Roller... You remember her. She got knocked up a while ago. Married the father. She's now divorcing and abandoning her son. M's friend Stephanie... Had an abortion.

People who are so fucking undeserving. People who are useless members of society and who cant be trusted with a potato gun. These are the people who have hit the fucking baby jackpot. These horrible members of society.

And not me!? You have to wonder if you're relgious... Which thankfully I'm not... Why the fuck this has any meaning.

Which just brings me back to my original complaint. I shouldn’t have to go through this. I shouldn’t. And I don’t want to. I don’t want to walk into that office building on Monday... A building built on hopes and dreams and yet full of statistical let downs. For every one woman that gets pregnant... 4 more wont. Were those other 4 any less deserving?

Walking into that building... Parking in the parking lot is an admission that I shouldn’t have to make. I should not have to tell the world that I am a horrible gestational vessel. I should not have to accept that I need scientific "help" with something that has kept the fucking species alive. I should not have to walk in to that building and admit that I am... That horrible word. That horrible horrible word which was invaded my dreams since childhood... For no other reason than to serve as a warning.

In

Fucking

Fertile.