“I never knew how easy it would be to get pregnant.”
Those 11 words sent me into a tailspin the other day. I was mindlessly flipping through the channels after a long day when I landed on a 16 and Pregnant promo.
“That’s so great for you!” I mockingly said out loud while storming out of the room. I instantly regretted my word choice, the sarcastic tone, and the taste of my bitter tongue.
I got caught up for a minute.
Sometimes that happens out of the blue. I’m not sure if it’s a result of the hormones I’m taking or the fact that it’s been exhausting to do something I assumed would come naturally, but some days I teeter on the edge of Crazytown and I’m pretty sure Bryan has started sleeping with one eye open.
I have absolutely no intention of dedicating all of my posts to this journey I’m on OR carving a niche for myself in the infertility blog category (not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course), but I do feel the need to discuss it sometimes because shit gets weird and it can be lonely. Often.
Yesterday, I realized that expectations versus reality were way apart and I thought, “hey, this might be useful to someone else on the road.” So here we are.
Sometimes it’s best not to overthink it.
I had an idea of what some of this might look like; mostly cursory things like monitoring and having blood taken and feeling anxious and excited and every other emotion rolled into one, on a steady basis. That’s been pretty spot on, mostly.
But then there are stupid hidden fears, the hormones, and the logistics of trying to give myself a tummy shot before, after, or during a concert. The bloated belly that makes me look like I’ve eaten one too many burritos.
Sometimes I like to make a game of it.
How does my vagina rate against the others this woman has had to see today?
Am I the oldest person in the waiting room this morning?
Also, I started giving less fucks about basic things.
Day three bloodwork and ultrasound: shave legs? Check. Wear cute sweater? Check. Socks match the sweater? Check.
Day nine bloodwork and ultrasound: I shaved about three days ago so I should be good. This sweater looks clean-ish. Shit! Almost forgot my deodorant!
I’m not sure I’m being uber helpful to anyone else who has ever considered (or is going through) IUI or IVF. Mostly this is just verbal diarrhea because I’m tired and I’d really love it if you could come here and shoot Reese’s Pieces into my mouth. Also I wanted to add that the face of infertility is not the smiling person you see on a bike on the pamphlet in the waiting room. She’s 38, is going to a Tori Amos concert tonight, and wants you to know that it’s okay if sometimes you lash out at stupid shit that people say in a commercial.
It’s okay 🙂