A Compromise

Picture this:  It’s 5:40AM.  I’m fast asleep in bed, finally settled for a little bit after being up throughout the night.  Cody gives my hip a little tap and says “Good morning.  It’s ready.”

It’s not what you think.  But it is how it started.

I rub some sleep out of my eyes and stagger over to the en suite bathroom (thank God it’s on my side of the bed).  I plop down on the (closed) toilet and lift the corner of my shirt.  A little swab of alcohol and before you know it:  there’s a needle in my stomach.

That early in the morning, I’m a baby.  I literally whimper “Owwww” and frown (with my eyes closed – I’m not waking up fully at that hour).  Today, the needle hurt going in (it is usually painless and unnoticeable).  Then the meds started to flow in and, like I mentioned before, they burn.  So there were a few pathetic “Owwww” whimpers this morning.  Cody pulled the needle out and then swabbed the injection site again.  I was up and back in bed in about a total of 2 minutes.

As I laid in bed, Cody cleaned up the torture chamber.  He came to the bed and covered me up again and bent to kiss me goodbye.  I turned my head and the conversation went something like this:

B:  “I don’t like you.”

C:  “I know you don’t like me.  I love you, though.”

B:  “No you don’t.  You just like stabbing me in the stomach.”

C:  “No!  I hate doing that to you.”

B:  “Whatever.”

C:  “Tell you what.  You can hold the baby first.”


I love him so much.


Hate is Such a Strong (and Applicable) Word

I hate fertility treatments.  All of them.

Round 1 – 8:  Timed Intercourse with Femara, Ovidrel, and Progesterone Suppositories

a) Timed Intercourse:  Best way to make a couple fight.  I hate being told what to do.  I apparently hate being told when to have sex with my husband even more.  When is the “right time”?  Is one position more “baby-making-friendly” over another?  Can I stand up right after?  Hate.

b) Femara:  I suck at taking medications on time.  I’m used to taking meds when I’m eating – which is different day to day.  Femara worked well for me, but I always forgot to take at least one tablet at the right time.  Also, I hated that they cost $70 for 3 days…. how naive of me.

c)  Ovidrel:  Needle in the belly – double hate.  And for $95 bucks!  Again, the naivety is sad.  And missed.

d)  Progesterone:  Suppositories.  Never fun.  Everyone hates them.  “Use a panty liner,” they said.  Lies.  All f-ing lies.  They are gross and annoying as hell.  And expensive – more expensive than anything else by this point:  $256 for 36 suppositories.

Round 9:  IUI with Bravelle, Ovidrel, and Progesterone Suppositories

a)  IUI Numero Uno:  Not as bad as I thought it would be.  Awkward, at best.  My husband was told that he “washes well”.  14 million swimmers on IUI Day 1; 36 million swimmers on IUI Day 2.  There was a slight pinch at one point and a comment that my cervix needed to be flipped up slightly, but it was bearable.  The fact that I need the IUI is what I hate.  Oh, and the $750 it costs to have it done.  Yeah, I hate that too.  And it failed.  So what can I say.

b)  Bravelle:  hate.  Hate.  HATE.  I feel like a crazy person on these injectables.  I’m not kidding.  My first day on them I went from yelling, to crying, to laughing because I was crying.  I hate the person I become on these medications.  I’m mean or depressed.  I fantasize punching certain people in the face.  Oh, and when I’m driving?  That’s a whole other nightmare.  I was being such a bitch while driving home after my appointment yesterday that a car opted to move a lane over so I wasn’t behind them giving the finger anymore.  At $85 a vial, it’s just another reason to dislike this shit.  And it means a needle to the stomach every morning for multiple days on end.

c)  Ovidrel:  Still hate.  It is, afterall, a needle to the stomach.  I don’t mind the cost so much anymore, but it’s still not my favorite thing.

d)  Progesterone:  Also still hate.  That will never go away.

Round 10:  IUI with Bravelle, Lupron, Ovidrel, and Progesterone Suppositories

a)  IUI:  Yet to come.  I’m sure it will still be awkward.

b)  Bravelle WITH Lupron:  And here is where I go into another rant about this terrible stuff.  I don’t respond well to this, apparently.  Last month we “ramped up”… which means I started out on a low dose, wasn’t doing so good so we went up a bit.  By the end I was still doing pretty shitty and not progressing so we amped it almost all the way up and I finally had 2 follicles that were “good enough”.  This time, we started out on almost a max dose and we’re going to “ramp down”.  4 days later I go back to see what progress I’ve made and there’s, well, none.  So I continue on this max dose until Friday.  Lets see… that’s $85/vial at 3 vials/day for 6 days (so far) and that’s:  $1530.  That comes out to $255 a day… for medication that doesn’t really seem to work all that well.  Oh but wait!  We also added Lupron in.  I think it was $250 for a kit that lasts 14 days, so it’s not that big of a deal.  What is a big deal, however, is that it makes the injections HURT.  Like a lot.  They weren’t comfortable before, but they burn like a bitch now.  They BURN.  And it’s early! And it’s making me INSANE!

c)  Ovidrel:  Yet to come.

d)  Progesterone:  Yet to come.

So basically, I’m over it.  I hate all this stuff.  I hate the costs involved.  I don’t see good responses and it just ends up pissing me off.  I am so serious when I say that I’ve ranted for the last 24 hours.  I’ve just been in a bad mood.  I haven’t yelled at my husband…. I haven’t done anything overly terrible (with the exception of my driving yesterday).  But I’m just upset.  Everything is getting to me.  I’m walking around in a bad mood and everyone knows it – they just don’t know the cause.. and are probably afraid to ask.

My in-laws were over on Saturday and an offhanded comment was made… it went kinda like this:

“Something-useless something-useless something useless, since Cody and Beanie aren’t going to give me any grandkids something-useless something-useless.”

It took everything in my power not to pull out our receipts from the clinic and show them how much (financially) we’re putting into this.  I wanted to show them that it’s not a matter of just not using condoms anymore and waiting 2 weeks for a period.  I’m sorry if I’m not having baby #3 at the age of 30.  And while I’m thinking all of this stuff – at rapid-fire speed, I might add – I’m doing my best not to shoot daggers with my eyes and at the exact same time trying not to bawl.  They left after a wonderfully short visit, I was happy, and life went on.  But when I went to the clinic yesterday and found out that my follicles are still pretty much dormant, that comment from my father-in-law came back and started to hurt all over.

And while I’m complaining about being mad, sad, depressed, bitchy, yadda yadda yadda, I realize I can add whiny to that list.

I’m sorry.


PS:  I’m not entirely positive on what exactly is making me bloat up like a balloon, but it can f-ck off.  I hate it too.