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w.t.f?

w.t.f?

I feel like I am always bitching about one thing or another on this blog, but it was started for the purpose of venting…so, there you go.

Having said that…I have to mention that I don’t need to hear another story from people who think they understand this process or about how so and so is just like me and finally got pregnant..after 12 YEARS of trying…or how so and so’s uterus fell out while she was giving birth and SHE did IVF.  I mean, how dense are some people?  I’m all happy that “12 years” finally had their kid or that “sliding uterus” actually gave birth, but really?  Really?  This doesn’t help, people.  It’s just…well…it’s rude.  That’s right, I said it.  Rude.  If you really want to talk to me about it…TALK to me.  Don’t give me ham-handed accounts of these horror stories to try to relate.  It will always fail to do what you want it to do.  You will always be insulting and hurtful however good your intentions are.  Ugh, that sounds harsh…but it’s how I’m feeling right now.

It’s something I never understood from the beginning of this journey.  I would read blogs, message boards and support sites and felt like these women were super sensitive.  I used to think, “ok ladies, get over yourselves.  it’s not ALL about YOU and YOUR drama.”  But a funny thing happened…I started IVF.  I began to realize how it really can break you down.  I started to feel like I was going mad.  I started to understand.

It’s not all about “them” or me, it’s about feeling as if you are redefining yourself as a woman in some ways.  It’s not about “drama”, it’s about struggle, disappointment, longing, confusion, desperation, sadness and hope. I don’t want to imply that nobody can ever understand or relate unless they go through this process.  I am just saying that there are complexities involved that are a suprise when they rise to the surface.   Noboby can prepare you for it, so just please, be gentle.

We have our first frozen embryo transfer this month.  We could very concieveabley be completely and totally unsuccessful after all we have been through.  It’s a bitter thought and one I have to keep preparing myself for.  It’s easy to get good news.  It’s the bad you have to pad the landing for.

Wink

Rock on with that tampon, sister.

It’s funny the little things that happen along this journey that send me into orbit and into panic mode.

Yesterday morning, in the middle of a meeting at work, I felt like I got my period.  Either that or I needed to start wearing depends.  It was maddening not being able to get up right away and find out what was going on downstairs.  This is when my mind starts inventing horrible scenarios:  “it’s my period and my FET will be canceled”, “it’s bleeding that is not supposed to be happening, right? ” or  “I. am. dying.”

I finally managed to get to the bathroom and found out I had gotten my period.  “How can this be?”  I thought.  I had just stopped BCP’s, this I knew, but I was on Lupron.  Wasn’t Lupron supposed to stop this???  I mean, what the hell?

Left message with Dr.’s office.  The Nurse finally called back hours later confirmed to me that this was ok and totally expected.  REALLY?  Totally ok and expected by WHOM?  YOU?  Not me, that’s for sure.  I wasn’t born yesterday…I get it that when you are taking consistent active BCP’s that you will skip your period.  But I could have used a heads up that the Lupron would not have been the band aid overlap to that once I stopped taking them.  Coulda used that information before I spent a good four hours thinking my ass was on the line for another delay in this already deferred process we are  going through.

Ugh, I am such a sensitive person about this.  Like anything that seems out of the ordinary sets me off into negative territory. Have to get better at dealing with this kind of stuff.

Still, it would have been helpful for them to clue me into this from the get go.

Physically:  Let’s talk about migraines for a moment, shall we?  They come on with Lupron.  They come and they rule.  They rule like weeds in a garden.  The other day at work, I had to go into the ladies bathroom, shut off the lights and lay on the tile just to get my head to a bearable stage.  It happens every single time I am on it and nothing helps.  Le sigh.

Mentally: The usual.  Good days and bad days.  Some days it’s happy time, sunshine and punch lines.  Others its rainy days, decay and malaise.  It is what it is and I take it day by day.

anger1

Where shall I begin? 

My RE’s office has two women in it we deal with on a regular basis.  One, the quasi receptionist/admin and the other, the nurse; and after today’s runaround farce they put my poor husband through, are henceforth known as Tweedledee and Tweedledum. 

Yesterday -we had not received our IVF schedule for the upcoming cycle yet, so I asked Chris to follow up since I had spoken to Tweedledum.  See, Tweedledum insisted we start injectables on May 22nd.  This puts us needing retrevial smack in the middle of our trip east.  (I knew this because I am a nut who has done waaaay too much research on injectables & IVF cycles.)  I asked her, “are you sure about that?” said I. “Oh, Yes”  said Tweedledum.  “Ok, you guys are the professionals”.   Understand, they KNEW about our trip.  Dr. C DISCUSSED it with us.  We voiced our concerns and wanted to be sure that we would be ok doing either before or after.  So after this converstation I tried to convince myself that they had it allllll worked out for us and we would be doing the transfer right before we got on the plane or something.  Right.

The pit in my stomach only got worse when Tuesday came and went with no schedule (hence Chris calling to follow up). I just KNEW they dropped the ball on us.  I could FEEL it for shit’s sake. All I know is, if I was the one to call today instead of Chris…there would have been some furniture moving around this mofo.  And not in a good way.

Well, Chris got the full runaround, dipshit treatment today when we had to deal with both Tweedledee AND Tweedledum either both inisisting or “Thinking” they knew where we stood for our upcoming cycle. The conversations sound somewhat like this:

Chris: Are you sure this is the correct schedule?

Tweedleedee(dum): Oh, yes.  I think you should be fine.

Chris: I don’t want to know what you “think”, I want to know the facts from the doctor.

Tweedledee(dum): Oh, well, let me talk to Dr. C—-.

Chris: Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.

Only to have Tweedledum call him back with the news that we would be coming in first thing tomorrow to get started.   They were both wrong and Chris and I were correct.  I hate being right about others being wrong when it’s important shit like this.  And not even a fucking apology.  Not once a “sorry we misread your chart”, “my bad”, “that was our misreading”…NOTHING.  Goddammit, how hard is that?

I have been absolutely apoplectic this week because this is getting down to the wire with my Lupron wearing off.  I feel like a raw nerve. I feel like we are being ignored…and “I WILL NOT BE IGNORED!!”.  Sorry…ok ok..I am bat-shit off my rocker between the shots and the BC pills and me just being an emotional nut-job on a NORMAL day, so,  when shit goes down like this…lookout!  This is all I’m saying.

Long story short, we go in tomorrow for our baseline ultrasound and injectable teaching with Dr. C. 

FINALLY. FINALLY. Finally.

Cyclesista

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