Today I have my appointment to see if the Vivelle dots are doing what they should. I am skeptical and have a hunch my cycle will be canceled. This FET cycle has been to meh for things to be working correctly. There has been very little panic and day dreaming about a maybe baby. Sure, occasionally I find my mind wandering to a fun craft I could do for our nursery, but more often than not I’m too busy focusing on other things – like my toe nails or the weather.
Thank you for all the tips and tricks on making PIO shots more bearable! I decided to take my friend from Eggs Without Partners up on her offer to come over and assist the Professor with the first one. The poor guy is terrified of giving these shots. He keeps talking about how he is sure it will be better if he eases the needle in slowly, not if he jabs it in like a dart. I assure him that jabbing is better but he can’t seem to wrap his head around it. I guess the upside to the cycle being cancelled would be that we won’t have to deal with PIO shots!
Last night I went aqua jogging. This is hands-down the most boring exercise I have ever done. You also look incredibly ridiculous. For starters, the blue float you strap around your belly was too big for me so when I hoped in the pool it popped up over my boobs since, well, I have no boobs. Aqua jogging is nothing more than running through the water, from one side of the pool to the other. Unlike running on land, though, you move VERY slowly and look ridiculous. All of this while hordes of young and abnormally fit college guys swim fancy laps around you, the old lady in the pool*.
The icing on the cake, however, was when neither my friend nor myself could hoist ourselves out of the pool. See, this big Olympic sized pool does not have easy low ledges like, say, the pool in your backyard. It also does not have stairs. You are supposed to be fit enough that you can just spring out of the water and hoist yourself up several feet…. after aqua jogging for 45 minutes…. with a dumb looking float around you. Ugh. We eventually got up, but only after making a small scene while laughing hysterically. I am pleased to say we did not have to call the lifeguard and request they bring over the old person stairs. Thank goodness.
* I realize I’m not old, per say, however, compared to 18 year old boys, I kinda am. Or maybe I’m a MILF, minus the “M” of course. Possibly more of an IILF – Infertile I’d Like To FU**. Hey, no risk of accidental pregnancy here! 🙂
I really appreciate all your kind words about my post on Facebook. I have not responded to your comments yet because I needed some time to digest. You are all right – I was being unnecessarily hard on myself. It’s just that I really don’t want to be one of those people who is so caught up in her own soap opera that she misses all the funny shows, you know? I don’t want my friends to start disappearing because “Belle can’t get her shit together.” I don’t want miscarriage to define me.
That said, I need people to remember my loss. I need it to be acknowledged but not harped upon. I don’t want friends and family to walk on eggshells around me, but I appreciate if they maintained a bit of sensitivity. I love to hear about their pregnancies and children if given a chance to ease into the conversation. For example, I have a wonderful friend in Arizona who is pregnant after two losses. She always lets me start the conversation about her pregnancy. Knowing I won’t be ambushed by details on her growing belly makes me feel comfortable with her. I ask about her journey to motherhood much more than I would other folks as I know it will be on my terms when I’m in a good place.
Another friend who has a child always includes me directly in conversations about her kid, asking for my feedback on how to handle a situation, my creativity in how to help them with a school project, my culinary expertise when trying to lose baby weight. Being an active part of these conversations about parenting makes me feel good. Being talked to about babies only makes me feel alienated and brings back memories of my loss. Being talked with about babies gives me hope. I’m a diverse, well-rounded, interesting person (or so I think!) and while I may not have children, I do have lots to bring to a conversation about them. Take a few moments to find a way to include me.
The problem with Facebook is that there is no opportunity for me to start the conversation, nor is there a way to gently include me. You can’t post your ultrasound photo and leave a caption to all your infertile friends that makes them feel included. Facebook posts on pregnancy and parenting are unwanted jabs in our gut and, unfortunately, there is no graceful way to avoid them; there is no perfect solution.
I do think there are things I can do differently, though, to minimize hurt to myself and others. I am public with my infertility. When I block or hide someone, I can preface that action with an email or phone call explaining that while I love them and their belly/baby dearly, I am having a really hard time seeing it when I log in to check out the latest from the Daily Show. I can’t expect my friends and family to sense my dynamic emotions based on a flat wall post or swift delete. Next time I’ll be a little more gentle with how I handle a Facebook crisis. In the meantime, my cousin and I are patching things up. I love her so much and am so thankful that she is compassionate and open-minded. She has created a new Facebook page specifically for her midwife business, meaning her personal page is now baby-free. I’m looking forward to reconnecting with her and again following her green smoothie posts and updates on her chickens!