Trying to have a baby is stressful. Anyone currently with children
who say they are tiring should try having a baby through medical
intervention. This week has been awful. Remind me never to travel out of
state for a transfer again.
Ever.
I left off last week telling you that our flight had finally been booked
and my medications were purchased. However, getting the time off work
for the trip and all the appointments leading up to it has been a bit
difficult to finagle with my supervisor. In fact, I have to say, this is
by far the most stressed out I have ever been in all the years of
infertility treatments. The last few days have consisted of working
myself to death at my job, coming home, rehashing the day to Chris until
I am in tears and ultimately falling asleep at 8:30. I've gotten so
emotionally and physically run down that I now have a bad head cold and
basically feel like complete poo. Oh, and I realized that for four days
now, I have been wearing two estrogen patches on my stomach instead of
the prescribed one. I'm stressed, I'm exhausted. I should be excited for
this trip, excited for the possibilities and hope that this could
bring. But all I want to do is sleep.
I
am really starting to wonder what the effect of all these hormones will
be on my body. Though I am happy to be doing another cycle again (the
7th cycle since starting inseminations, but who's counting?), I am happy
that I am no longer on expensive injections to grow my follicles at
alarming rates, but still, I feel like a hormone factory.
"I
just hope this will all be worth it," I told Chris one evening, while
struggling to keep from drooling from the estrogen pill melting under my
tongue and absently scratching at the estrogen patch itching on my
stomach.
It is hard to believe, though, that we are flying to Dallas in a week.
Dallas.
I'm
going to be so pissed if I get Ebola. That's all I would need. The
ability to not have a biological child and get a deadly virus. Ugh.
I digress.
It's
strange to think that by the time this post is published, I will be
heading on a plane to go get pregnant in another state with donor eggs.
If I could get in my time machine and go back to when I first was trying
for a baby ... well, I never expected this.
I just need to get
through this week. I feel unorganized, unprepared for this trip. I don't
know how I am going to travel with my needles and syringes and vials
and medications. I don't know when I am going to get over this sickness.
This was not the way I envisioned it right before leaving.
At
the time I am writing this, it's October 15: Pregnancy and Infant Loss
Awareness Day. And amidst all this chaos, I allowed myself to stop and
light a candle for my baby in heaven. In taking those few moments to
study the candlelight, I took a deep breath and tried to remember why I
was doing all this. Why I was going through so much, why I was putting
my job on the line, why I was fighting so much with my husband, why I
was crying so many tears.
I am doing this because of family—for
the baby that is out there, waiting. I think I lose sight of that
sometimes, with all the medications and appointments and coordinating
between clinics.
When I am in Texas, I will get to visit my little
sister. I will get to see my beautiful friend whom I have only known
through an online infertility group and her miracle baby. I will get to
watch my husband eat his body weight in Texas barbecue.
Damn it, this is my trip and this WILL work. Join me in a tribal baby dance, won't you?Labels: Grief, In the News, Inspirational, life, mom.me