This post was supposed to be made yesterday. Better late than never.
I had a follow up appointment with my OB yesterday regarding whether or not Andrew and I should continue with more cycles of Clomid. After talking with us, Dr. White believes that we should continue with it, but up the dosage to 100mg for three months and see how it works.
He says he feels REALLY good about keeping us on Clomid, due to how my ultrasounds and tests came back in February. I can't say I feel super hopeful about continuing, but obviously I have enough left in me to say yes to more treatment. He said 3 months on 100mg - If nothing then, 3 months on 150mg. Nothing then, 200mg for yet another 3 months. After that, he will refer us to yet another specialist.
By the end of all of these 'planned' cycles, Andrew and I will mark our 6th year of trying to get pregnant. Yesterday in the car, Andrew mentioned that if none of these cycles work out, we'll face facts and move on. We'll build the car he's always wanted since we'll have the money.
If that's so, then maybe we can visit all the places we've wanted to visit, we'll build the house we always wanted, whether or not we can fill the rooms, and we'll live for ourselves. Something I can honestly say we have not done. Every moment from the past few years have been laid out around the baby we didn't yet have. We bought our house because it was near friends, and because it had the extra room to house a baby for the first few years until we could continue moving up in size. Every decision was made based on the timeline of 'IF we get pregnant this month' or 'Baby would be this age, by this year, IF we had it by this time,' and 'This would be perfect for when we have a baby.'
That's such a lonely way to live. I can't tell you how relieved I am that we finally have a deciding moment to know we've had enough of this. I know we both want a baby more than anything - But not to the point where our lives fail because of it. We deserve to be happy. Life may be the longest thing you ever do, but there's no point in wasting it with wishful thinking.
-J
When I began 'planning' this blog, my original thought was to not write in this every day unless I absolutely needed to.
Today, a few things have been weighing on my mind for, really, no particular reason I suppose. There have been a slew of pregnancy announcements, or gender reveals, etc. on Facebook lately which always leaves me empty, so maybe that's the case.
Unfortunately, most of the announcements are from my own family, so I can't escape them. Good for them - Bad for me. Anyway, I'm making this post to let you know what few things I hate the most about going through infertility. Obviously, the not being able to have a baby naturally, or maybe not at all, is at the top of my list.
This next part, could be considered a little insensitive. To that I say, I'm sorry if I offend you.
First, NOT getting a positive pregnancy test 4 months in to trying, is NOT infertility. It's normal for couples to take at least a year before getting pregnant. If you don't get pregnant within a year of ACTIVELY trying, see your OB. Maybe you're not timing right, etc. Get checked. Figure out what's going on. This doesn't always mean you're infertile!
Secondly. Infertility and having a miscarriage... are NOT the same. Both of them are devastating to whom ever goes through them, and I would never downplay a miscarriage. I couldn't even imagine going through one. I remember just THINKING I was having one, and how much it hurt. I still don't know for sure, and I never will. But, please, do not ever compare a miscarriage to knowing how I feel about my infertility.
Thirdly. 90% of the time... Your advice seriously SUCKS. I'm sorry, it just does. Do NOT tell me to relax, or adopt, or get drunk. Do not tell me it will happen in 'Gods' time. Do not tell me everything happens for a reason. I understand that you possibly think you're helping. The truth is, you're not. Telling me to relax is about as beneficial as telling someone with diabetes to relax and their sugar condition will magically disappear. Infertility IS a MEDICAL CONDITION. End of story.
Lastly, for now, telling me "You can have one of mine!"
or "Take my kids for the day, you'll change your mind!" is just mind blowing to me. And when you say things like that - You make me realize how
ridiculously crazy this world really is. YOU can have children... But I
can't? Women who kill their children by any means can have children..
but I can't? Women who are ungrateful can have children. I can't. Do not
tell me everything happens for a reason. There is no reason for child
abuse and death. No reason at all.
I really appreciate you trying to talk to me, and the fact that you're trying to understand my situation. But instead of bad advice that I've heard before, wish me the best. Tell me you'll keep me in your thoughts. Please, if you do not have actual advice from your own set backs with infertility, stick to the above mentioned.
I know there is more I could add to this. I could probably type all night. But, I am mentally drained after the day I've had. I appreciate all of you SO much that took the time to read my first entry, and maybe even this one. The comments and love you showed on Facebook are really kind and makes me feel better about starting this in the first place. So again. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
-J
I've been trying to start this in the most upbeat way possible. No one wants to read a blog that's mainly depressing. But I guess when you've been going through severe depression for almost 3 years there are bound to be a few slip ups. If you take the time to read this - Thank you. You'll never know how much it means to me.
I wanted to start this blog to help myself. To vent & explain. But mostly, I wanted my friends and family, and even the people that might visit here that I've never met before to know exactly what I have been going through for the past 5 and a half years. And for those people I've never met - I want them to know they're not alone. Not even close.
I've been through multiple fertility treatments. Month after month of them. I've been through hope, then hopelessness. Up, then down. Smiles, then tears. Pretty much every emotion you can think of, I have been there. More than once. Some of them, I can only wish I'll never experience again.
But, let me cut to the chase. A lot of you possibly reading this, I considered friends. Really, super, amazing friends. But one by one, I pulled away from each of you. I stopped texting. Calling. I stopped hanging out with each of you. I made excuses to not show up, and I cancelled on you at the last minute when we made plans to hang out. I told you I just wasn't feeling well. Or something came up. An emergency. Whatever I said - They were all poor excuses. You all made the effort time and time again, and I failed you every time. I failed myself. I let myself fall in to the person I am today, because of the things happening in my life that I tried SO hard to change, but couldn't.
I've done everything to change my circumstances. PCOS is no joke - and just like diabetes or any other ailment you can think of - I cannot magically 'relax' and have all my worries disappear. PCOS cannot be cured in the conventional way. It can be treated, and I have been being treated for it for almost 5 years. Dealing with infertility, and PCOS, has NOT made me a better person by any means. I've withdrawn from my friends. My family. Myself. There have been times when I haven't even been the best wife. I have mentally beaten myself up every single day of my life for the past 5 1/2 years that we've been trying to have a baby.
Nothing anyone can say to me, can ever compare to the things I've said to myself. I AM my own worst enemy. What you need to know though, is that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being a good friend. I'm sorry for the excuses, and for not making time for you. I cannot say that all of that will change starting today. This will take awhile. But I will tell you that I'm taking the steps to make myself a better person.
Yes, I'm still dealing with my infertility, and the possible reality that Andrew and I may never have a child. And on that matter, I call myself Ambivalent. I have my days. Just like everyone else. Is all of this pain, anger, emptiness, and hate for myself worth it? I don't know. I might never know.
I just know that today, it is. Tomorrow, unfortunately, is always a mystery.
-J
