My “Happy Calendar”

I hate IVF. I’m angry that it’s my only option. I’m scared because I know what to expect this time. I’m angry that I’m angry and I can’t pull myself together and get excited about it. I’m angry because starting a family is so easy for everybody else. I’m angry that I’ve allowed IVF to turn me into this depressed, awful, self-indulged mop of a person. I’m feeling (and sounding) like a five-year-old having a tantrum and I can’t help it. And I hate that too.

(insert deep cleansing breath)

Despite the start of this rant, this is not another dribbling, down-in-the-dumps post.

Tomorrow is almost here. It’s not really the injections that are freaking me out. It’s just knowing that tomorrow starts the entire long awful process. I have really just been in this depressed state for the last few weeks. It just boils down to - I don't want to do IVF. Ever again. But I don't want to adopt and J doesn't want to do artificial. So NOT doing IVF is just like saying I don't ever want to have kids. I have been unable to talk to J about it (actually, anybody). So for the last week or so, I’ve just kind of shut down emotionally and gone numb.

J sat me down Friday night to try to drag “whatever’s bothering you” out of me. He said all the right things: he wants to be there for me through all this, I have to let know what is going on with me, I can’t shut him out….etc, etc. But how the hell do I tell my husband that I don’t ever want to do this again? That I feel trapped into HAVING to do it for lack of options?

I’ve spent the last week being angry at him. For completely irrational reasons of course. I want him to demand that we don’t do this again. I want him to say “this is too much for you”, or “I will not sit back and watch you go through this again.” I want to have a way out and I don’t.

I went to yoga all weekend trying to center myself – trying to get my brain quiet. And it occurred to me (while almost falling down during a balancing pose) that I’m not actually angry at J. I’m angry because even if he DID say all those things. I’d still do it. Which in some bizarre way gave me back a sense of control. Which is what I think is so hard about IVF. No control over anything – the outcome, the needles, the drugs, the side effects, your own body, the doctor appointments, the insurance companies, the blood work, the ultrasounds…on and on…..

So I’m trying to recapture some sense of control back into my life. I’ve set myself up on a 4-times-a-week visit to the yoga center. Although at the start of week 3, my doctor won’t allow yoga as I’m not supposed to be twisting my mid-section (because of the drugs, I can actually twist my ovaries and end up having them removed). But my plan is to go anyway and just leave out anything that might cause a strain. If nothing else, laying on the mat basking in other people’s positive energy will do me good.

I’m trying desperately to pull myself up here. Really, I am. I’m making up a calendar full of nice, relaxing things to counteract my IVF calendar full of injection schedules, lab appointments, and procedures. I’ve filled it up with art classes and yoga classes and massages and hair appointments. It’s my “Happy Calendar.” I’m hoping it will give me something to look forward to each day.

I told Jeffrey a good way HE can distract me is when the injections start getting tough, to bring me home a potted plant. After the shots that night, he can help me plant it in the flower bed. Jazzes up the yard and gets me outside and doing something I love, rather than sitting around feeling sorry for myself.

J left to go out of town last night for work. He gets home tomorrow night just in time to give me my first injection. It’s been nice to have some time alone. It’s given me time to just sit in quiet, listen to soothing music, cook, nap, draw, watch TV, read. The weather’s been amazing the last few days and it’s supposed to be pushing 80 tomorrow and Wednesday. That’s certainly uplifting. Plus, the early time change - more sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy (John Denver knew about the good stuff in life). Yesterday was fabulous. I sat outside on the side porch all day, and it was still light enough to eat my lovely organic dinner out there as well.

Maybe between the time change, the nice weather, SPRING, my happy calendar, a little solace….I’ll be able to pluck out a bit of optimism before tomorrow’s first injection. It’s just the mental barrier of the first shot (heard ‘round the world). Then I’m officially committed to the whole process. The whole process. The. Whole. Process.

Maybe this one will work. Maybe I’ll read through old posts in 2 months with my hand on my belly and think: why the hell was I freaking out? This was so worth it.

Maybe.

I hope. And hoping is about as good as it gets.