The end. 

This is the end of my IF journey. 

Actually no. It’s never really over. Every day is just one more day of being infertile. It’s just one more day I won’t be a mom. One more day I have to answer the question ‘do you have kids?’ Or ‘when will you have kids?’ Or the best: ‘wait till you have kids’.

It is what it is. And I will be fine. 

I have known for a long time this is my destiny. I did try to change it. But I guess some things are just written. 

Adoption is not on the table. Neither is surrogacy. For various reasons but mostly because neither feels right. 

Now I plan on living my life to its fullest. doing things that make me happy. So long as I am healthy. I will make the most of it. 

Until I can’t anymore. Then I will not be a burden on anyone. I need to make sure of that. That’s the hard part. Without children it is much harder to figure out who will take care of me when I’m older. I am ofcourse assuming I will outlive my husband. And even if I don’t, we both will need to think about how the other will be cared for. I can’t be a burden on my siblings or nieces and nephews. That would not be fair. So planning for the future is a bit different for us. But at least we have time. 

I have always said I plan on dying before I become old and a burden. I’ve seen my grandmother become completely dependent on her daughter, my mother, for everything. From food to bathing. While it was obviously not a choice she made, I don’t even have the luxury of an option.  So I am very concerned about my long term future. It is always at the back of my mind. So my plan is to build up a nest egg for my future care givers. But if all else fails I will ensure I die before I get to that burdensome stage. No I am not dying now or tomorrow or next week (although with the way the world is, you just don’t know) but maybe when I’m 60 or 70? It just depend on how life goes. I guess what I am saying is if my life was over tomorrow I would have little regret. And that’s how I want to live everyday. 

DH doesn’t like to hear me speak like that. Perhaps it is a bit morbid. But it is just me being practical. 

For now though, I must live in the moment. I have a good life. A lovely home. A great job. A loving husband. Enough money to live comfortably and see the world. I have a family that I love and they love me. An amazing nephew and a brand new niece to spoil rotten. And hopefully many more to come. It will be sad not to see them grow old and have families of their own. But I don’t plan on being around that long. I guess only time will tell. But given my history and all the medications I have put in my body. I seriously doubt I am going to live a long and healthy life anyway. The odds are just not in my favour. And that’s ok too. It is my destiny and I totally accept that. 

For now, I plan to live every day like it is my last. Soak in every precious moment. Because the only thing I won’t be able to get back is time with my loved ones. That’s all that matters now. 

I won’t be writing in this space anymore. I just don’t feel like it. It reminds to be sad when I am here. And I just don’t want to feel that anymore. So I am moving on. 

No point in dwelling on something that can’t be changed. I tried. I failed. I am moving on. 

It has been cathartic. It has been amazing to see the support strangers can bring. And it has been a painful yet necessary journey. I am happy I tried. I do not regret that I tried. 

To those still in the thick of it I hope that my failure means future success for you. Because the statistics are definitely in your favour. We can’t all fail. But I can’t be there to watch you succeed either. I need to focus on me. It’s selfish. I know. But it’s all I’ve got. 

Thank you. But I am done. 

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8 years and red marks

It was our 8th anniversary yesterday. We celebrated by going out for ice cream to the place we were supposed to go on DH’s birthday before all the craziness happened. 

It doesn’t seem like much but it was a good day. 

This was the first time DH had been out of the house other than for the hospital or follow up Dr. appointments. So that was a big deal for us. Also it was his first time eating out. Even though it was just ice cream, after two weeks on a purée diet I’m sure it was nice for him to eat anything outside the house. 

He’s finally able to eat semi solids now without any real difficulty. He can walk around without much pain. His pain level was a 4 out of 10 this morning for the first time since going to hospital (it has hovered around 8 for a while now). So he is on the road to recovery. The skin is still raw in places so he has to keep up the wound care and just be careful about infections. But overall he is almost normal and we are both immensely grateful. 

So going out for his favourite ice cream was a perfect anniversary celebration. We aren’t big celebration people so this was just right. 

The funny thing is both sets of parents made a bigger deal of our anniversary than we did. It’s cute that they care so much. 

This morning I decided to wear a dark red lipstick to work. As I was leaving for work, he was still sleeping. I gave him a big kiss on the cheek. I told him to make sure he washed his face when he woke up since it had a nice red smacker on it. He said ok and I left. 

A few hours later he calls me. “I feel better except I have this weird red mark on my left cheek.” I played along. “Do you? Does it hurt?” 

“No. I put some of the ointment on it. Hopefully it will get better.”

I played along a bit longer then I began to realize he was being totally serious and had no idea what it was. I told him to try to rub the mark.

“Oh is it lipstick? …I hate you!”

Apparently he had no memory of me kissing him goodbye this morning. He even showed his parents the new ‘mark’ and still nobody clued in. 

We were both laughing so hard at the stupidity of it all. But poor guy has been so worried about the hives he just assumed it was another skin reaction.  

Suffice to say I will be doing this again soon just for kicks. 

God I love this man to pieces and I am so lucky to have him. 

When no news is good news?

First things first. Still don’t have my beta results. No news is good news right? 

I went to a lab close to the hospital DH is at to save time this morning. Of course with all that is happening I totally forgot the additional instructions to call the IVF clinic to let them know which blood lab I went to. Oops. 

I literally just got home from the hospital and re-read the instructions for beta day. I left the message at the clinic at 10pm tonight. So much for getting the results quickly. 

So I’m guessing I will get the call at some point tomorrow. 

Still haven’t had a chance to pee on a stick for a couple of days. So it really is anyone’s guess. Still no bleeding. Low back pain persists. But that’s probably the uncomfortable hospital chairs. Almost no cramping anymore. I don’t feel any different at all.

I’m just not feeling hopeful. With all that’s going on, what are the chances this is actually going to work for us? 

 I’m starting to mentally prepare myself for both rounds to not work. Start preparing for being childfree. Unfortunately, I still think it is unfair on DH. He shouldn’t be asked to give up having children just because of me. But I’m just not a person who can go through adoption.  I don’t know why. I just can’t do it. And I don’t know what I can do about it. 

His parents are in town now and asked us lots of questions about the whole process today. IVF is a very foreign concept to them. So the whole egg donor thing is a little too crazy for them to grasp. Not sure they entirely were comfortable with the concept. But it’s not like they have much choice in that matter. DH did most of the talking, but I also tried to mentally prepare them to not expect any grandkids from us. Ever. But I’m not sure they like that idea either. Overall I’m probably turning out to be a pretty dissapoining daughter-in-law.

But now that I think about it, it’s unfair of me to do this to them too. I mean they deserve grandkids don’t they? I guess they already have two (DH’s sisters kids) to dote on. It’s a pretty great deal for those two. Why can’t that just be enough?

So here I am. I can do a lot of things but having children isn’t one of them. And that’s ok for me. Except why does it make me so damn sad? Why am I crying? Why do I feel guilty? Why does it always feel like the whole world just doesn’t get it? 

I feel sick. I just want to curl up into a ball and not talk to anyone. But I have to push on. I need to focus on helping DH recover. I can’t give up just yet. Why is this so damn hard?

Please let no news be good news. Please. 

Imaginary hope v. real hope

Alongside keeping this blog updated I like to peruse the IF forums (I like IVF.ca for the mostly Canadian members) to keep myself updated and to see what others that are in the same boat are doing/experiencing. Something about feeling like you are not alone…

One of the forums I recently started to follow is the June 2017 IVF/FET cycle group.  Some of the members have been posting what they like to do to pass the time while they are waiting at the various stages along this process. Some say they are looking up baby names, some are researching car seats and strollers etc., this is all before some have even started their cycle, or well before any transfer has occurred.

To me all of that is way out of my comfort zone.

No going to lie, I have on a few occasions spotted a stroller on the street and found myself googling reviews later. But about a few minutes into it I will remember how much of a long journey I have before I even will need to consider this in any serious way and stop and distract myself with something more appropriate like how ridiculous the Bachelorette was this Monday (for the record I am not a Rachel fan- she’s too normal for tv – but Im still going to watch because it is all about watching the crazies come out to play).

I think it is so impressive when people can suspend their IF woes to take some time to just be wishful about the future. Or even use that hope to help get them through all the worry. I still feel that if I let myself fantasize about the future with a pregnancy or (whispers) baby it is just too risky. I mean what if I jinx it by buying that onsie that says “started from the petri now I’m here”? If I don’t build myself up to hope too much, then the crash if it all doesn’t work won’t be so bad right?

Kudos to those women that can have so much hope and optimism throughout this process to actually manifest it into something physical. I am just not one of them. Right now if I let myself hope, it still feels almost wrong. It’s a daily struggle. Especially when I see the perfect baby booties and I just want to order them, because this will work goddammit! Ugh! that is way too much hope than I can handle right now. It is getting better though. As we get closer to transfer day I am starting to give myself permission to be more hopeful.

For now my hope looks more like bouts of daydreaming of what life will be like if I am pregnant or with an infant dependent on me for life… and then I tell myself to snap out of it and face reality that all of that is not real…yet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bronchoscopy update 

The dr called yesterday. We all know what that means. 

Apparently in 10% of cases after a bronchoscopy the patient will get a fever. And when that happens, something will grow in the sputum. 

Sure enough. I had a fever the evening of my bronchoscopy and have been feeling slightly under the weather since. Not enough to say I’m sick. But just that not quite 100% feeling. 

Dr. F said that the culture came out positive for haemophilus. Apparently it’s a fairly common bacteria and doesn’t cause issues until another infection comes along. Normally it affects the immune compromised such as young children. And me. It is the cause of ear infections, sinus infections, and pneumonia. All of which I have on the regular (except pneumonia, I normally start treatment before I get that sick). But it all makes sense. 

Treatment is pretty straight forward. One course of azithomycin antibiotics. The Dr called in the Rx to my pharmacy and I started the antibiotics yesterday. It’s a five day course so I should be done by the time lining check day comes along. 

Seems simple enough. But then she did end the call with: I’ll call you if anything else grows in your culture. 

Great. So there could be more?! I did tell her about the ivf and she assured me this round of antibiotics will be out of my system well before any possible embryo transfer. Hopefully there is nothing else lurking in my lungs. 

Race day. Also known as CD1

Not surprisingly CD 1 came right in time for race day this past Sunday. Although, it would have been nice to have run my 10k without that heavy feeling that comes with being on your period. 

First the race. It went well. I managed to finish in the same time I finished last year. Almost to the second. So at least I’m consistent. DH shaved a few minutes off his time. Which was his goal. 

Once we were done we spent some time stretching and just enjoying that high of finishing a race. Then we went home for a shower and then off to brunch and some quality time with the family. When we got home that eveining DH forced me to take an Epsom salt bath with him and I am so glad he did. I am so not a bath person (it’s the whole sitting in your own filth business) but boy did the Epsom salts work! We both don’t feel as sore as we did the first time we ran.


CD1 outfit of the day!

I also called in my CD1 to the nurses line at the clinic. They got back to me today to schedule the lining check apt on day 14: May 27. If we’re lucky then that means a transfer is possible the first week of June! But more likely that I will need a further week of meds to get the lining up there. So we might still be on track to have a transfer on DH’s birthday on Jun 11. 

Overall it was a good day. And it’s good to start this cycle. 

Not a Mother’s Day

It is Mother’s Day Race Day! Last year, DH and I decided to start a new annual tradition, we run a 10K race every spring. This one happens to be held on Mothers Day every year (or it has for the last two years we have been going). Which is totally fine by us, and actually makes us look forward to this day.

Note, I use the term ‘run’ very loosely. It is more of a fast walk, with small bouts of even faster walking just to keep things interesting. DH is more of a runner and is all about beating his personal best. I had to beg him to keep the pace with me for the first half of the race, and then he is permitted to take off for the last half. My focus is more on the outfit for the day and just getting my sweat on till I cross the finish line.

Continuing the tradition this year, barring any serious weather issues, by the time this post is live, our walk run should be well underway.

Last year I was a ‘running’ virgin and this year feels much the same. Although we started training 10 weeks ago, I don’t feel that I have improved much from last year. DH has improved immensely and it is amazing to see him become such a great runner. He laps me each and every time. It is a good thing I am not competitive when it comes to sports. I have a feeling if I was a better runner than DH, he probably might not be so into participating in a race. I blame my stupid damaged lungs and lack of stamina. My brain is like ‘go go go!’ but my body is like ‘NOPE!’. But I still push myself to get out there. And the health benefits are worth it. It is also the easiest and cheapest workout next to doing youtube videos in the living room. Just put on some runners and go! So as much as I ‘hate’ running, I still do it, and really enjoy the benefits that come after the run is over.

After the race, we will join the rest of the family for a more traditional mother’s day after race brunch.

All in all it should turn out to be a pretty nice mother’s race day.