Hi, Science, I like your syringe.

Yesterday I was talking to someone about how we are on the IVF path now after having tried many alternative treatments.  This person, being very much into alternative treatments, encouraged me to keep on the holistic path.  She was very positive about it and when we parted ways I felt renewed, like I could keep trying.

I came home, removed a wooden carving that I felt might be sending out negative vibes, set the herbal supplements on the kitchen counter, and starred the dates on my calendar for the days when I would force my husband to have sex no matter how tired he might be.

Later that night I realized that, once again, I was bamboozled into taking advice from a woman who could just look at her husband and get pregnant.  A woman who has no idea what we've been through.  

I want to be one of those women who lie on their back, snap their fingers and get knocked up.  And you know what?  That will happen.  It will happen when I lie on my back, feet in the stirrups and have a syringe inserted through my cervix and a embryo placed in my uterus. 

I'm tossing out all those supplements and erasing those  little stars from my calendar.

Knock me up, science!

Fact Sheets

Before I jump into this topic, let me just say that my last post bordered on the crazy-must have a baby-stereotypical infertile lady-edge that I so hate and I realize that.  Anyway......

Doing some research and have found plenty of disheartening and disturbing information about fertility testing and treatments on the American Society of Reproducive Medicine's webpage.  Interested?  Look here - Fact Sheets. 

Did you know that the ovary-stimulating medicine given to a woman who is participating in fertility treatments can sometimes cause her ovary to twist on itself, cutting off its own blood supply, thus requiring surgery to untwist it or remove it?  Jesus......

I want to pretend that IVF is gonna be cool and interesting, like that elementary school science project where you create a papier mache volcano and then make it explode......but my uterus is not a papier mache volcano. 

Oh, blissful ignorance!

Reproductive organs don't discriminate

This is what I have to remind myself of as we yet again receive a phone call with that bittersweet news - "I'm going to be a dad."

Remember....
Reproductive organs don't care if you love each other very much.
Reproductive organs don't care if you just bought a bottle of cheap wine and pity fucked each other.
Reproductive organs don't care if you have money or don't have money.
Reproductive organs don't care how old you are or if you have a nice car.

My asshole uterus certainly doesn't care what I want.  And my husbands balls?  They're doin' their own thing, regardless of what he wants them to do.

I'm working my way through these angry feelings.  Give me 24 hours.

Oh, reproductive organs...

I have an announcement

*clink, clink, clink* (fork tapping on wine glass)

"Excuse me, excuse me!"  Everyone stops talking and looks directly at me.  "Thank you all for coming," I say.  Oooo, the anticipation is building now......

"I have an announcement."  People look over at my husband but he is staring up at me with the same bewildered look, no clue as to what the big announcement is.  One of the couples looks at each other with knowing grins on their faces.  A tear comes to my eye.

"I just don't like artichoke hearts."  I begin to ramble, "I've always thought of them as a classy food, though I know they come in a can just like a simple pea or carrot, but they've always seemed to impart a sort of upper-class salad to me and I really wanted to be that girl who eats high society salad." 

Distressed glances are being shot my way.  Stephen is headed toward me for our romantic embrace.........no.....he's leading me out of the room.....

Last night I was laying in bed, thinking about making that announcement - "We're pregnant!"  I admit it, I've thought about it before.  About how I'll tell my Mom, my brother, my friends.  There is just no other announcement that I can think of that would be as exciting to them as this one.  "I've got a human being growing inside me!"  That's a pretty rousing announcement.

I can't make that announcement.  So, what can I announce?  I think if I could just get it out of my system, that desire to make a big announcement, then I could let that fantasy go.

Oh, I hate artichoke hearts!

The question of the hour

How do you stay sane while trying to conceive?

People who aren't struggling with fertility issues will never understand this.  I'm not trying to be judgemental and fit all of you who can conceive "normally" into one box but I have yet to find this statement untrue.  You can nod your heads in empathy as those of us who struggle with this express our woes to you but at some point in the conversation it will enivitably be said......
......"you could just try having sex more."
......"if you relax and stop thinking about it, you'll get knocked up."
....."if you guys do adopt, then you'll get pregnant."

Look, it does not work that way.  We do not have what it takes.  We are working with 2% viable sperm.  True, that is not zero percent.  But if a "normal" couple, a couple with almost 100% viable sperm, has a 25% chance each month of getting pregnant, than we, a couple with only 2% viable sperm (and hold on here because math is not my best subject), have a .05% chance each month.  Less than 1%. 

So, those of us struggling tend to reach out to others that are in the same position.  And, thanks to the internet, it is possible to connect with thousands of other couples with infertility. 

Having realized we have a problem, even before medical tests confirmed it, I went looking online for support.  I'm sad to say, I haven't found it.  All I tend to find are women who seem to have only one foot still on the ledge.  Come on, ladies!  Isn't there more to life than becoming a mother?  I say that there is.  And though I think my husband and I would be fantastic parents, if we never get that chance, I will still feel that I have lived a life worth living.  And I work every day to make that statement even more true.  

So, what can you do to stay sane while trying to conceive?
~  Focus on the good things in your life. 
Do you and your husband have a fabulous relationship?Revel in that! Not everyone has that and aren't you lucky!
Do you love your job?  Work to become even better at it and enjoy every day, realizing that you make a difference!
Are you taking fabulous trips?  Don't you feel sorry for those people walking the aisles of the plane trying to calm a restless baby?  Enjoy the fact that you don't have to worry about that right now!
~  Start a new hobby or become a master at an old one.
Now is the time to finally become a fabulous seamstress!
Always wanted to learn how to play the violin?  You have the time now to do that. 
Make gourment dinners and serve them at your beautiful dining room table.  Have friends over and enjoy good conversation over a bottle of wine!

What is that you say?  Shut up, you glass-half-full, optimistic bitch?  I know. 

Oh, but we must try to stay sane, girls!

Alternative Methods Part 2.....or.....What I will force my husband to try in order to avoid IVF

So I find myself sitting in the very last row of seats in the back of the bus with four little bottles wrapped in foil tucked under my arm, inside my jacket, wondering if I'm far enough away from the electromagnetic waves or if I should get off the bus and walk in the -2 degree weather.

Ummm....wait....let me start this at the begining. 

What do you do if you realize that your baby makin' attempts aren't working out but you are against modern medical intervention? 

Visit a homeopathic doctor, of course.

Luckily, I happen to work with a chiropractor who is also a homeopathic nutritionist and a NET (neuroemotional technique) specialist.  After having gone through treatment with her (which I will touch on another time), I convinced my husband to see her.

The session started out normally enough.  Health history, talks about diet and exercise, some allergy testing.  And then she explained that she would like to give him some homeopathic medicine that would work to clean out his liver, spleen, bladder and testes.  And he said "okay" and told her to place the order for the medicine.

The medicine arrives and she gives it to me, along with the instructions.  And this is where it gets strange.......

The medicine, I'm told, will be adversely affected by electromagnetic fields.  She's wrapped it in foil and wants to know how I will get it home.  Being that it's freezing outside, I tell her that I'll be taking the bus home.  She makes a "tsk, tsk" noise and warns me to sit as far to the rear of the bus as I can, away from all the electric implements near the driver.  She stops short of telling me that I need to wrap my head in foil because the aliens are trying to read my thoughts......

Then come the instructions for use.  Each liquid is to be taken in two drops under the tongue, four times a day for one day.  And my husband needs to.....wait for it......stay as far away from electromagnetic fields as he can that day.

So, on a Sunday, we find ourselves in our bedroom void of the alarm clock, the laptop, cell phones, cell phone chargers, lamps, space heater, and power strip, all of which have been moved into the living room.  As I am able to come and go into and out of electromagnetic fields as I please, I slip out of the room to make us lunch and dinner and bring in things like candles so that we can entertain ourselves by reading and playing board games (both of which we enjoy but much more so when not trying to do it in the flickering candlelight). 

Twelve hours pass by so slowly when you are being glared at by a husband who has been forced to spend the day sitting on a bed in a quiet room without his video games.

Needless to say, this treatment got us nowhere.  My husband is now even more distrustful of my alternative suggestions than he was before. 

Oh, alternative methods, I have lost some faith in you!