Keep going...

My cousin and his wife dealt with infertility during several years. That plus two ectopic pregnancies. But they persisted and now they have two healthy kids. Somehow, now that they have everything they were hoping for, something else is broken. I have no clue of who is at fault, but I learned this week that she asked for a divorce.

I know my cousin to be a true gentleman, who works hard, loves his wife and children and would never do anything to hurt them. I've also known his wife for many years, ever since we were all teenagers. I remember talking to her about my own infertility problems. She was always very compassionate and kind. I have no clue what brought up this decision but I can't help but think that maybe the ordeal they went through while trying to conceive somehow took its toll, and it is only surfacing now.

I am scared. I hate to think that we might be able to finally become a family, only to break that family to pieces later on. Just because it happened to my cousin does not mean it's going to happen to me, but I think about it a lot, especially remembering my recent breakdown when I had my period and the FSH was not here, and then discovering that they did not even send the right amount and I had to order more. I still marvel at how the spouse put up with me and my anger, despair and depression.

He took it upon himself to call in the missing injections and deal with our insurance. He has also kept me company during three of the four times I've injected myself for this cycle, and each time he hugs me and tells me he loves me.

I have always known I am blessed to have him, but the news from home have made me even more aware of that fact.

It's all going to be all right

This has become my mantra. I have to remind myself that, if this cycle is a total failure, it's not a tragedy. We'll still be childless, but  blessed to have each other.

There's already a few glitches going on with this cycle (besides the yellow dog being sick and the office move). The delivery of my FSH was timed so it would be sent to the spouse's workplace before my period came. Somehow they failed to notify him when the meds were delivered. My period (and PMS) arrived, and the meds were not yet in my hands. Only when I was close to hysterics did the spouse finally start making calls and asking questions, until the meds showed up. Thankfully, the icepacks were still half frozen by the time we got them.

My FSH dose was supposed to increase by 50%, but I got the same amount I got last cycle. My doctor said that would not be a problem, since I could get a refill. But the insurance said I cannot get a refill without the doctor requesting it first. So once more, I am frantically sending emails, hoping the rest of the FSH will arrive on time.

Today was my first day of injections. I talked to the spouse about using the same dose as last cycle so the meds would last longer, but he convinced me to put all my faith in the system and inject the correct dose, hoping that the mess will be solved, otherwise I will run out of FSH by day seven.

By the way, he hates needles. He runs away when I am injecting myself. This time I explained that, even if I don't mind needles, I do hate doing this on my own, as if this were exclusively my problem and he had nothing to do with it. I made him stay with me and watch the whole rite: Disinfecting the area, uncapping the vials, extracting the saline with a syringe, and mixing it with the freeze dried hormone, one vial after the other. He cringed when I disinfected my belly and injected myself. When I was done, we hugged.

I don't know if he'll be willing to go through this again tomorrow, but I am hoping he is.

Here we go again

Well, the ball was set rolling today for the next cycle: Dr. Careful found no cysts. I am grateful for small blessings.

I'm increasing my FSH dose by 50%. We hope my period comes in a few days. When it does, I'll start injecting again. I was looking forward to a stress-free cycle, without having to worry about moving or meeting contractors. But guess what? They're moving my cubicle at work. Most of my stuff is in the lab and I spend very little time in the cubicle. Still, I consider it to be bad timing.

Also, the yellow dog came down with kennel cough. She takes one pill every 12 hours and another one every 6 to 8 hours. She is, of course, banned from doggy daycare for another two weeks. Which means I'll have to sacrifice my 30 min lunch "hour" to come here and let her out, and find a way to have my lunch in my cubicle (as long as I still have one).

So much for a stress-free cycle

Getting there

Some days I sit here and start writing, and then decide not to publish anything. I'm still very depressed, but not as much as when I wrote my last post. I was so depressed I did not even call my doctor until much later. Now it's too late and I might have wasted not one cycle, but two.

You really need to be in the right frame of mind when you are incurring in self-harm through daily injections, plus allowing access to your vagina to a stranger on a regular basis. I was not in the right frame of mind, and in fact I am not sure I'm there yet. I have another appointment next Wednesday.

I have not missed a single day of work. I have often cried at work but have managed to pretend I have a cold or something. The fact that it is always very cold in my lab helps.

I stopped going to zumba. That was bad. I started again this week and felt quite good about it. I also started yoga. The first thing out of the teacher's mouth was that we should not simply take Prozac or other pills for stress and depression, that we should instead seek to heal ourselves, which of course takes time and effort.

Gee, I wish things were that simple. I have not gone back to antidepressants because sooner or later I will try again for another FSH cycle. But even if I did, those things take weeks to start working, and they also take weeks to wash out of your system. Also, I think it is in bad taste to criticize people on how they choose to handle their depression. Someone should tell her, but it's not going to be me. I am not that much into antidepressants anyway. My drug of choice is chocolate. Much better, no?