Raw and Ready

I'm feeling like someone scraped my soul with sandpaper.  I'm just sore and worn out emotionally.  Every time someone asks, "How are you?" I wonder if they can handle the truth, and how much of it I should be honest about and what I should hold back for fear of oversharing.  People don't want to know the truth.  Even those who care don't want to know that I'm feeling empty and hollow and raw and tired and hopeless, because their next question is how to help, and they just can't make it better right now.

I had my baseline appointment today for my first medicated cycle.  My period came with a vengence last night, as expected, and though we had hoped to drive up to our clinic together on Saturday for this appointment, they told me that they only do monitoring appointments on weekdays typically.  Which is news to me, but whatever.  My new job had told me that I didn't have to work today, so I could drive up by myself, which I did.

I wasn't nervous, and I wasn't expecting it to be emotional.  I had the transvaginal ultrasound (as we infertiles occasionally affectionately call it, the dildo cam) first.  A nurse practitioner came in and introduced herself and said she was learning the equipment.  Man, she thought that thing was a stick shift!  DO NOT PUT ME IN THIRD GEAR, PLEASE!  It freaking HURT!  I involuntarily said "Ouch!" three or four times and stiffled it another few.  I don't mean to exaggerate, but it honestly felt violating.  It was worse than my HSG, which I was very scared of at the time (unnecessarily, it turned out).

I thankfully have 10 antral follicles on one side and 9 on the other, which was deemed to be "excellent" and then I was sent to pee in a cup to confirm what I already knew (especially - TMI warning - since the "pee" was red instead of yellow) that I was not actually pregnant (but go ahead and rub salt in that wound).

Then I spoke with the nurse, who is not my typical contact as my nurse is out of the office this week.  She explained how to use the medications I'm about to have to take, when to take them, and went over my calendar.  We practiced the injectible medications to make sure I get it right.  She was very nice, and very helpful.  She asked about my experience with the pharmacy, which I confirmed was less than quality customer service, and she apologized and explained that others had complained and they were switching pharmacies going forward.  So I'm glad I wasn't just being a difficult customer!

I explained that I was worried about twins, and asked about how many mature follicles is too many.  She confirmed that it's a real possibility, that they have lots of twins from their procedures, but not so many triplets and not any more than that.  But really, I don't care how many triplets they have or don't have - I don't want twins.  I started getting choked up at the idea of having a 20-30% chance of twins, if I can even get pregnant at all.

As I checked out, the receptionist tried to charge me the full amount before I suggested that my insurance is supposed to cover 80% of timed intercourse cycles, which she then confirmed and I only had to pay around $25, so I'm VERY appreciative of my insurance right now!

I cried in my car for awhile.  Ugly sobs.  And I went on Facebook to try to distract myself so I could collect my thoughts enough to be okay driving home, and sure enough, there's a friend's pregnancy announcement on top of my news feed.  I lost it.  I ended up calling my Mom to try to talk me off my hysterical fit, and she did, but not before a good long hysterical temper tantrum fit.

Really, I don't get why simply because I'm infertile, I should embrace without reservations the idea of a) twins, b) sperm donors, c) ovaries the size of grapefruits, d) IUIs, e) IVF, f) adopting.

As if it's just like buying one brand of milk instead of another.  If I want milk, and everyone's getting milk, and I can't get milk - I can only get almond milk or goats milk, or I can try to find and milk a cow for my own milk, why can't I be pissed about it?

Why am I expected to go, "Oh well, if I can't have milk like everyone else, I've got no problems with drinking almond milk!"

Almond milk is perfectly nice, but why can't I say, "You know what, damnit, I want milk!  Everyone else gets it whenever they want it.  I don't really want almond milk or goats milk right now, I want cow's milk!  If I can't have cow's milk, I'll learn to accept almond milk or goats milk and it will be just fine in the long run, but right now I want cow's milk, damnit.  And I don't want to risk getting kicked by the damned cow to get that milk.  I want it to come in a carton at the grocery store like everyone else, and it is NOT FAIR that I can't do that!"

I just want a baby.  ONE baby at time!  A biological baby that shares genes with both my husband and me, preferably.  I don't feel like I'm being selfish for feeling the urge to want to see if our child has my husband's or my features, grows tall like my husband or stays short like me.  Everyone else takes it for granted, but why am I made to feel like I'm being unreasonable for really wanting that?

So... there's that.  I'm raw about that.  I'm hopeful, and scared, and resigned, and sad, and angry.  It's a whole bundle of emotions to carry around every day, and it weighs me down sometimes.  I'm so exhausted from it all, I just don't have the strength to feel anything right now.  I poured it all out of my face in tears this morning in the parking lot of my doctor's office.

I took a picture of my tear stained face as "The Face of Infertility" but it was too depressing so I deleted it.  That level of misery does not need to be documented - it needs to be survived and put behind me.

And to add to it, I started a new job on Monday.  I didn't love the job, I had a pretty nasty co-worker.  I was going to give it another week to see if it got any better.  Today my new boss called me and told me nasty co-worker had filled her in on why I wasn't "a good fit" and that she thought it best we go our separate ways.  Which is fine, I was going to quit anyway. But as my husband so aptly summarized, it's like a bad date - you don't want to keep dating, but you get pretty pissed if they're the one to break up with you first.  What's wrong with you?  They're the one with issues!  Of course you were cold and disinterested - they were so terrible!  They don't get to break up with you first!  It's their fault!  But really, in the end, it doesn't matter.  It's over, and it didn't work.

I'm feeling pretty raw about that, too.  Not disappointed, as I disliked the job and was upset that I would have to struggle to fit in monitoring appointments, and not be able to meet with my new psychologist who I really need.  I just feel embarrassed that I got let go.  What's wrong with me?!  Why didn't they like me?  I could overanalyze it all, and feel like a pretty terrible person, but I am going to try my darndest not to add this to my overwhelming heap of stress.  I'm going to try to just move past it.

Prior to me losing my job, we had discussed the need to take a vacation in April/May.  It might mean a treatment break, which is just fine, but we really, really need some relaxation.  My favorite trips are adventure trips - 3 cities in 10 days, long flights to far flung places, budget hotels and overnight trains.  I love it!  But it's not relaxing - it's hard work.  Exciting and fun and thrilling, but not relaxing.  And really... I need to relax.

I'm sick of everyone else telling me to relax, especially as they make it seem like relaxing will solve my infertility.  But really, I'd be the first one to admit I'm high strung at the moment.  I'm struggling with depression and anxiety.  It's amazing how two words summarize a vast canyon of pain and suffering - depression and anxiety.  There's so much I'm wearing around my neck at the moment, pulling me down, but it's all wrapped up in those two simple words.

So I'm just... raw.  Too tired to be sad, scared, angry, embarrassed, frustrated, frightened, overwhelmed, mad, envious, irritated, tired.

I'm too tired to be tired.  Let's just do this already.  Whatever may come, or not come, let's just freaking get this party started already.  I'm ready.  Well, no, I'm not.  But I'm raw, and that's nearly as good as ready.