After the whole miscarriage roller coaster, I am once again trying to keep the timing of my treatments private. I tried that with our first Follistim/IUI, but because of certain obligations, I had to miss out on events and find substitutes and the word soon got around.
The second Follistim/IUI treatment, I was open about the timing from the beginning. So when I got my BFP, I felt I needed to tell as everyone right away, as they knew the exact day I’d be finding out anyway.
We watched the heartache of close friends and family who had waited so long for that good news, only to see it taken away a week later, and we decided we couldn’t go through that again. Somehow, someway we would have to keep this next treatment private.
So far we’ve been pretty good. My co-workers might know (because of the missed work due to appointments), but to the world at large our secret appears pretty safe.
The benefit to doing this is I can vent all I want and I don’t feel bad because no one is reading this (yet)! In the past, I sometimes tried to censor myself for fear that people would think I was trying to get sympathy. By the time anyone reads this, I will be way past this point. No sympathy needed (or wanted either!).
This cycle reminds me of our last one, but with an even stronger headache. The nurse told me that the headache is a sign I need to drink more water. I am supposed to drink half a gallon a day. On Tuesday (day 1 of the shots; day 3 of my cycle), the headache came within an hour of the first dose. I had already drunk my required half gallon of water before dinnertime and still it was there. By Wednesday morning, it was gone… just in time to take my second dose. Sure enough, an hour later it was back. I’ve just come to accept that it will be my companion during the 6 days or so that I take this medication. It is just interesting that it gets worse with each cycle, although this time makes more sense because they did increase my dose slightly.
Other than that, I am still plugging along, doing my shots and appreciating every moment. Any time I start to complain too much, I think back to where I was 2 years ago…
I was sitting in a psychologist’s office sobbing hysterically because we had too much debt and not enough money for treatments. The stock market had tanked, my career was stalled, and we were basically paycheck to paycheck. There was no light at the end of the tunnel and I was in the midst of a deep depression. No hope, no encouragement, no way out of where I was. I was so hysterical, at one point, she had me hold onto this little machine and concentrate on the patterns of the vibrations it made. Looking back, I think she was just trying to distract me enough to calm down so I could drive myself home.
Whenever I begrudge the shots, the emotions, the disappointments I am feeling now, I picture that person sitting on that couch holding onto that stupid vibrating machine. And it makes me grateful for every bit of it… even the headaches.