Day One Drama
There’s no woman more confusing than a hormonal one, is there?
I’d been itching to start fertility treatment since the day I found out I had PCOS, but now that golden “let’s go make a baby” milestone is here, suddenly, I don’t want to get started at all.
I know I should be excited that, in theory, we’re one step closer towards having our baby, that treatment is our yellow brick road towards the Emerald City of parenthood.
Yet right now, I couldn’t feel sadder if I tried.
Feeling Sad.... http://www.flickr.com/photos/leefotos/1078446230/
Today is Friday, and it’s day one of my cycle. That means that my day three, which is when fertility clinics start monitoring your cycle, will be on Sunday morning.
For some reason, having to start this whole process on a Sunday is more upsetting than I can feasibly explain. I guess I just expected to start on a Monday, like all other things.
No one likes Mondays, do they? I could just get on the subway pretending I was going to the office, like everyone else with a face like a slapped ass on a Monday morning.
But no, it has to be on Sunday, the first of daily 7.30am visits to the fertility clinic where I get an ultrasound probe up my who-ha to see what those darned ovaries are doing.
Because we’re not sure whether I’m ovulating or not at the moment, here’s what will probably happen: After days of ultrasounds and blood tests, at some point – probably about three weeks in – said ovaries will hopefully do what I want them to do, and ovulate.
Then I’ll get a phone call from the clinic, and pretend to my husband that I’m really horny and need sex three times in the next 12 hours or I’ll explode. (We agreed for ambience’s sake that I wouldn’t burst in the door shouting “honey, we need to try and make a baby NOW”.)
Then, we wait two weeks to see if it worked. If it didn’t, the whole process starts all over again, and again. Ahhhh. I feel tired and emotional just writing it down. God knows how I’ll cope with pregnancy.
While I think it’s natural to feel apprehensive about starting fertility treatment, I can’t decide whether it’s the invasive nature of cycle monitoring that’s getting me down, or just the thought of going to the fertility clinic.
Last time I was there I cried – a lot. I don’t even know if I can go to that damn clinic without springing the water works.
Seven months have passed since those dark days of diagnosis. In that time, I’ve had weekly acupuncture, tried to improve my lifestyle, and my periods have started again which, let me tell you, felt like Christmas. Whereas most people groan at the first telltale signs of a period, I actually get excited.
No, I feel proud. Proud that after months of not getting periods at all, my body is finally doing what it’s meant to – bleeding once a month. It takes all my strength not to update Facebook and Twitter with this momentous occasion – I want a cheerleading squad in the bathroom!
But when you start fertility treatment, the first day of your period, or day one, is when they start monitoring, and you can embark on whatever drugs or treatment plan you’ve agreed on. That’s where we are right now.
So I haven’t had that “woo hoo I got a period, yay my body works” moment today.
I just feel rather sad.
Sad that from now on, the first thing I have to do most days is get intimate with an ultrasound probe and a needle.
Sad that although we haven’t yet tried to get pregnant, I wish by some miracle I had, and saved us having to go through this at all.
Sad that my poor husband has to go through this with me, always wondering whether to ask me how I’m feeling about it, whether it’s worth risking his head being chomped off, or whether to just leave
What I'd rather be doing on a Sunday morning.... Image via Wikipedia
me alone.
Sad for every other couple who has to go through this too.
I plan to be as positive as I can be throughout my journey, and won’t be spending too long dwelling on the negatives.
But just for this Friday night, I’m allowing myself a few choked-back tears and a bit of a complain, before setting my alarm clock for Sunday morning and hopefully, day one of the journey to the best experience of our lives.
Bring On The Bump 