So at last I am totally caught up on all the blogs I hadn’t got to reading in the last few weeks while I’ve been avoiding all things infertility. Wow in two weeks we go through so much in this world of IF. In two weeks one woman got her baby in her arms via adoption, in two weeks three women finally got their BFP, in two weeks one person has gone from hope of having her hubby’s child to secretly hoping he can just move on from his bio babies, in two weeks one woman lost her little bean in the belly, in two weeks one woman went from no hope to actually getting a prescription for hope form her FS! No wonder so many of us are an emotional mess, no wonder so many of us require some kind of anti-depressant or mood stabiliser, no wonder I thought I might be saner without this in my life.
But it hasn’t been like that. All that happens without the blogosphere is I get too caught up in my own brain. It’s good to share, it’s good to have ‘friends’ who help to take you out of your own self-pity party. So I’m back and hoping to stay in touch a little better, although I imagine having my family around is going to make that rather tough.
So what’s going on in this addled brain of mine?
I seem to have gone from such a high of hope that we still have hope that we can have Hopelessly’s bio baby to just being in a funk over the waiting. The bitch with IF is that every situation is different, every diagnosis requires different action and MFI has a special kind of hell. It seems that when you have female issues you keep cycling, temping, medicating and testing, every month is the hideous roller-coaster ride, the hope, the waiting. Some days I am so relieved for not having that ride, others days I wish I could be doing something because waiting and not ‘doing’ something is driving me crazy.
I know I’m mad, I mean we ARE doing something, as the slowly developing bruises on my poor man’s bum will attest to. We are taking action as our fast growing medical bills will attest to. (As an aside we have been completely unable to get Pregnyl in South Africa and as a result he is now on Ovidrel injections once a week instead of the Pregnyl. Ovidrel is 3 times the price. Yes THREE times the price! Between that and the Menopur three times a week it’s not cheap.) I’ve even tried talking to his little guys (sorry Hunny of course I mean big guys) in the hopes that lots of loving talk will encourage them into action. The FS said that he will feel ‘something’ in his balls when they start developing and I think that three weeks of the new protocol should be enough for them to be in action now! Don’t you agree?!?
Anyway every day I keep hoping that today will be the day that I get through without feeling the need to fight the tears, without needing to brace myself against the baby talk, without living in fear of pregnancy announcements, but today isn’t that day. But I really have had enough of the self-pity party already. Thanks to all of you who help to keep me sane, by getting out of my own head.