Ha ha. I just read this post and had a good chuckle to myself. This is so typical me – I was all indignation and resentment but it didn’t take me long to get over that and start scheming how to get on this IVF train. We have been waiting for my Gran’s estate to come through and so as soon as we had the money we went to see the doc, which was last month.
In June/July this year we had an amazing overseas holiday, also paid for by my inheritance. My Darling brother got married on a beach in Scotland and it was one of the most special times.
Then W and I went off for a dream-come-true week in Italy. We didn’t have too much money but we had the best time. It was so good for us. We laughed, drank, ate, got lost, nearly died on a moped, swam in the Med and soaked up everything.
We both thought that with the amount of romance in the air we might even have a little Italian baby on board (we would name him Sergio!) but OF COURSE NOT! What overcame me to be so uncharacteristically optimistic, I have no idea.
So we came home to money in our bank account and decided to bite the bullet. It actually took me a few weeks to make my first appointment. I really think that in the last year I have had to harden my heart. I withdrew from the broodiness and the yearning and the “why me!”. I would grimly face visits with friends and their kids and either climb into the nearest bottle of wine or else clam up and look for the closest exit. I knew that I didn’t have the resources to face things. And then my best friend, the last one standing, fell pregnant unexpectedly. But I soldiered on and to be honest it really worked. I had moments of despair but I felt so numb that after a short time everything returned to normal.
Intro The Numb Robot. A friend remarked on how I didn’t seem that excited or positive about doing IVF. I just matter-of-factly decided we were going ahead. I think I am so immune to getting my hopes up after years of having them dashed. So a battle ensued – The mean Numb Robot against the tinkerbell fairy daydreaming about pink booties. Squash! …fairy dust.
So I made the appointment and we went to see our Fertility Specialist. He had a quick look and remarked on how healthy everything was looking and said we should go for it. A few days later I got my period the doc gave me a whole freakin cooler box full of drugs, needles, you name it. It was a formidable sight.
But it was a challenge I took head on. My first time injecting myself was a metaphor for how I have approached this whole thing. There was a bit of fumbling around with the syringe but when it came to jabbing that needle into my flesh (thanks to the Numb Robot) I didn’t stop to think and just went for it.
I started almost looking forward to my morning jab. For the first time in many years I could DO SOMETHING to getting a baby. I suppose it was the same mechanical, pragmatic approach that I used to sometimes view sex when we were “trying” (You know , that really awful awkward sex when you would rather scrub the toilet bowl with a toothbrush rather than touch each other. The sex is like scraping your nails down a blackboard. But you do it to get it done. Oh, those blissful times.)
Heroine addicts had nothing on me. I jabbed away with 3 amps of Menopur started on CD3 (Cycle day3) for about 10 days. I embraced the pin cushion inside of me.
More to come!