I’ve decided that I need a project to distract myself over the next 2 months. So I decided to re-do my scrapbooking room. Today I was clearing everything out so the painting can begin and I was moving all my scrapbooks. This presents a perfect opportunity to peruse through them. I always like to look back and see how far I’ve come in my scrapbooking skill and tastes. I was flipping through the numerous books of memories and what struck me was how happy I was. There are pictures of my husband and I goofing around and being silly and just enjoying our lives together. Little did those people know, that they would encounter a journey that would test (and continues to test) every ounce of their being, every ounce of their relationship with one another. I wanted to jump back into those pictures and just be her for a moment. Filled with ignorance and hope and dreams. Dreams that didn’t involve sperm washes, injections and embryo transfers. She didn’t even know these words.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not miserable every day. But my life has changed and I’m not as happy as I used to be. I’m angry, bitter, and resentful — a lot. And sometimes I don’t like this new me very much. I’m also angry that I’ve let infertility change me. I wish I could handle it more gracefully and stop complaining so much. Be one of those people who smiles in the face of adversity and says, “hey that’s okay, I’ll survive”.
A nurse at work the other day, asked me “how are you doing” (for the record, I was really touched that she remembered me mentioning this infertility gig and was genuinely interested in how I was doing even though I really don’t know her very well. She even offered to give me my injections if I needed help! How nice is that?!). I told her all about the IVF stuff and blah-de-blah. And she said, “wow, is your husband as positive as you are about all this?”. I’m positive? I was literally taken aback by this statement. I have given off the impression of positivity. Excellent. My gemini self strikes again. One side all shiny on the outside and leading others to believe I have all my shit together. Hiding the other side of my gemini self that is scared shitless and doesn’t know how I’ll handle it if this doesn’t work. Of course, I will handle whatever happens because I’ve always got the shiny faker-self to lead the way.
I do have a sense of calm about all this IVF stuff though. It might completely be the organization of it all. I have a wonderful letter from my clinic that outlines to the day how everything will go down. Which days to report for blood and ultrasound… like clockwork. Of course, there is always the possibility that shit hits the fan and the plan falls apart if there is poor response to meds, or whatever else can get fucked up in this IVF journey. But on paper, there is an organized plan. And the organizer in me is comforted by that. When we went to our appointment with Dr. M., I said “we’re done with IUI, it’s too stressful” and his response was “and IVF is not stressful at all”. (One point for sarcasm, Dr. M. I like it.) It’s a different kind of stress. There is far too much unpredictability with IUI. I’m absolutely sure there’s some unpredictability with IVF but I don’t know it yet. So I’m just going to bask in that ignorance for awhile and enjoy the ride.