The past four days like clockwork, every morning at 8:30 am and every evening at 7 pm my husband has stabbed me with the baby-making juice. With the exception of one shot they’ve all ended with a high-five and a kiss for the painless procedure. I’m really proud of him. He’s got a gentle touch and I barely feel a thing. My belly is beginning to show signs of tenderness and I have a headache that won’t quit on my 10 ml Micro Lupron / 225 ui Follistim protocol but this little party in my ovaries is in full swing.
In my efforts to stay on the sunny side of this less than stellar situation I have decided to do two things:
1. Have a theme song
Yes! I have a theme song for making this IVF cycle my bitch and it’s Katy Perry’s Roar. If you need to pump yourself up before your shots I highly recommend. Thankfully it’s overplayed and on the radio every 15 minutes right now. I picture my follicles roaring like lions. It’s absolutely ridiculous, but nobody ever said IVF has to be serious.
2. A list of things that hurt more than my injections
The injections really haven’t been that bad, but in case I forget I’ve been developing a list of things that hurt WAY more than one of my shots. A few that have made my list include:
– paper cuts
– Eyebrow threading (this is really painful)
– Bikini wax
– stubbing my toe
– rolling my ankle in a pair of heels
– Cat scratches
– Feel free to let me know what other things I should add to my tally. 🙂
My road to motherhood has been anything but smooth so this video cracks me up. 🙂
“Make your mess your message”. – Robin Roberts
So It’s been months since my last post because I’ve been living my life between positive pregnancy tests. Since May, my husband and I have moved from Los Angeles to Florida, bought a home and have began our bicostal lifestyle of three weeks in Florida and one in California. I am back and plan on regularly chronicling my journey towards a healthy and successful pregnancy.
In July, I watched breast cancer survivor and news anchor Robin Roberts give a moving speech during the 2013 ESPYS that resonated with me. A quote of her’s that has stuck with me since is “make your mess, your message”. It brought tears to my eyes as I realized that I have been fearful to do exactly that. Three pregnancy losses and inching closer to beginning my first round of IVF I rarely, if ever, share my personal journey of infertility. At 32 I have not wanted to make loss my story. I have not wanted to have unexplained infertility define me. In fear of doing either I have decidedly remained mum to most about my experiences.
I have come to realize that my fearful silence is not helping, but only hurting, the wonderful community of women who have been dealt the same cards I have. In my vocal paralysis I am a contributor to the overall lack of awareness and knowledge the general public has about pregnancy loss and infertility. As most women and couples in my situation I have had some downright ignorant things said to me by those who know nothing or very little of my circumstances. I’ve been called selfish for not having children and I’ve been told to not waste my perfect genes and have children already. For those in the know the tried and true “relax”, “take a vacation” and “stop trying so hard” have all been unsolicited pieces of advice ignorantly offered up.
So while you won’t find me shouting from the rooftops that I’ve been unsuccessful in carrying a pregnancy to term, I do plan on being more open about it. Today’s post is my first step. 🙂
Facebook has a funny way of advertising to me at the exact moments when I am NOT pregnant! Le Sigh 🙂
To be a champion fight one more round – James Corbett
I’ve never been in a boxing ring. And the only time I’ve ever thrown a punch was back in the Billy Bank’s era during the early 2000’s when kickboxing was trendy. Life has certainly made me its punching bag a time or two. I know what it feels like to get knocked down and come up swinging. I’ve picked myself up and dusted myself off more times than I’d care to count at 32-years-old and some of my hardest blows have been about pregnancy.
Two years ago today after 18 weeks of pregnancy I delivered my son stillborn for reasons that to this very day are still unknown. The doctors called it a fetal demise. I called it not being lucky enough to miscarry. I don’t know what was worse…learning that my son had no heartbeat during my first ultrasound, spending 18 hours in labor only to walk out of the hospital with my arms empty or the emotional trauma I experienced each night when I fell asleep and saw my son in my dreams. There he was a blond haired blue-eyed piece of perfection. The problem was horrible things would happen to him and I could not save him. He burned to death; he was stolen out of my car at the airport. I accidentally smothered him to death when I dumped out a basket of laundry. As I dug through the laundry I could feel his heart beating and I could not get to him fast enough…
In July 2012, a little over a year later, once I re-gained my courage to fight one more round, my husband and I found out we were pregnant. By September we knew it was a blighted ovum and I miscarried.
Most recently, after every test imaginable, we went through out first round of stimulated IUI to end up with an ectopic pregnancy.
These are my stories from the ring of reoccuring pregnancy loss and infertility . I fill my non pregnant moments with random adventures because one day very soon I will in fact be pregnant for the entire 10 months. Until then it’s on to round number four…ding…ding…ding!