Saturday, December 31, 2011
A Bedtime Rant
I'm not sure why, but tonight as I was getting ready for bed I kept thinking about the different ways people have responded to our news. And maybe it's simply because I'm pregnant, but no response seems to make me happy. When people say, "Oh how exciting," I want to throw a dose of reality in their faces and tell them how much this will cost us financially, physically, mentally, and emotionally. On the other hand, when people say, "You poor thing" or "Wow. That will be such a challenge," I want to tell them that we'll handle it. More than that, we'll make it look easy. Maybe it's because both types of people mirror my own feelings at one moment or another, but there has to be a better way. Why can't people ask how we feel instead of telling us how we should feel? Why not say, "Wow. That is amazing news. How are you feeling about it?" And I don't mean, "How is your husband handling it," which I already get quite frequently, as if the man will just faint like the husband in that stupid credit card commercial everyone and their mother asks us if we've seen the moment they hear we're having triplets. Trust me. We know this is big news. We're neither naive nor stupid, yet people keep asking, "What are they going to do?" and telling us how scared or excited we should be. Don't you think we already are those things? Don't you think that we already know this will be a challenge? We are two rational, college-educated people in their 30's for goodness sake. We are not a teenage couple whose birth control failed and is now blindly stumbling into parenthood. We planned this. We paid lots of money to get medical help doing it. We mentally prepared for twins. I'm sure we'll manage with triplets. So be supportive, be honest, be inquisitive, but stop trying to tell me how I should feel about becoming a mother of three.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
15 Going on 25
Today I begin week 15 of my pregnancy. It's a strange place to be because, for most women, they are only 1/3 of the way through their experience; but for me, it's more like half. Although we want to get much farther, my doctors would be happy if I reached 30 weeks. It's kind of the minimum safe zone for multiples. So I really shouldn't have been surprised to learn that I am "progressing" much faster than the average pregnant woman... much faster. This week, I was measured for the first time. Don't get me wrong, they "measure" just about everything else each time I go in for a visit (and they were only too cheery to note that the holiday season had helped me pack on some extra pounds), but this was the first time they measured my belly. Now, I had just done a visual belly comparison with my best friend who is only four days ahead of me in this process. We felt we looked pretty much the same. My belly seemed to start a little higher, but we seemed to stick out about the same amount. Au contraire. The nurse practitioner measured and then announced, "Well, you're measuring right at 25 weeks." Really?! That's 10 full weeks ahead of my actual gestation! No wonder I've been in maternity clothing since week 10! But I have to remember that I've got three times what normal women house in their bellies. Three babies with three sacks and, well, two placentas. That's a lot to shove in your abdomen.
Aside from this little shocker, this week has been a pretty good one baby-wise. Although I overdid it a bit during the holidays and am more sore than normal, I'm beginning to feel more confident in my body's ability to get us all through this pregnancy. This seems odd considering I've been in more pain, but the pain has been what I deem "normal" pregnancy discomfort. It's not pain that signals a problem. Instead, it signals shifts in my body that tell me that it is working to accommodate this new situation. I am still aware of the risk factors involved, but am less fearful of things going horribly wrong. We even came up with what we think will be a much better work plan for me - one that will allow me full pay (not disability pay) longer and hopefully give me a break that will make the last two full months of pregnancy easier... and perhaps even allow me to avoid much bed rest. The first baby shower is already being planned and my dad is booked to fly in around week 25 to help us with the nursery. Things are looking up.
I must admit, though, that it is still strange to look down and see a growing belly. (Most of us associate that with frustration and reestablished diet plans.) But it's even more bizarre to really think about why that belly is there - that there are three human beings growing in there. It's something that I know, but it's not something that I really fully grasp. I'm getting there, though. We're only a few weeks out from knowing the sexes of the babies and I think (despite all of my feminist leanings and disdain for gender roles) that will help me to feel more attached - like this is really truly real. And I hear that once I start to feel the babies move, reality really sets in. I'm not there yet, but each I get out of the shower and look at my profile in the mirror and really see the changes in my body, it becomes a little more real.
Aside from this little shocker, this week has been a pretty good one baby-wise. Although I overdid it a bit during the holidays and am more sore than normal, I'm beginning to feel more confident in my body's ability to get us all through this pregnancy. This seems odd considering I've been in more pain, but the pain has been what I deem "normal" pregnancy discomfort. It's not pain that signals a problem. Instead, it signals shifts in my body that tell me that it is working to accommodate this new situation. I am still aware of the risk factors involved, but am less fearful of things going horribly wrong. We even came up with what we think will be a much better work plan for me - one that will allow me full pay (not disability pay) longer and hopefully give me a break that will make the last two full months of pregnancy easier... and perhaps even allow me to avoid much bed rest. The first baby shower is already being planned and my dad is booked to fly in around week 25 to help us with the nursery. Things are looking up.
I must admit, though, that it is still strange to look down and see a growing belly. (Most of us associate that with frustration and reestablished diet plans.) But it's even more bizarre to really think about why that belly is there - that there are three human beings growing in there. It's something that I know, but it's not something that I really fully grasp. I'm getting there, though. We're only a few weeks out from knowing the sexes of the babies and I think (despite all of my feminist leanings and disdain for gender roles) that will help me to feel more attached - like this is really truly real. And I hear that once I start to feel the babies move, reality really sets in. I'm not there yet, but each I get out of the shower and look at my profile in the mirror and really see the changes in my body, it becomes a little more real.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Gratefulness
Last night, I met a very interesting woman. She is one of my mom's neighbors and, although it has been many years, when she was young she had five children in six years. Six entire years of being pregnant! I can't even imagine. And she said to me with a smile, "I never felt better than I did when I was pregnant." I am not that woman. I'll be honest. When I find women closer to my own age who tell me they loved being pregnant or they felt so fabulous during those nine months, I want to hurt them. I doubt their honesty. I have not felt good. And just when I crossed the twelve week mark and nausea started to subside, and I thought the end was in sight... no. It has returned. Now, in week fourteen, the dry heaving has resurfaced along with the nausea. I have headaches (and sometime migraines) just about every day. My allergies are having a field day... and there is very little I can do about any of this. Take ginger. Use heat packs. Take a Tylenol. Yeah, great. Like any of those things are as good as "real" drugs.
But then I hear of friends (far too many friends) who are having trouble conceiving or who are having legitimately challenging pregnancies and I have to take a step back. True, it took some medical intervention to get me knocked up, but it worked for us. (In fact, it worked a bit too well, if you ask me.) And true, I feel like I have low-grade flu 24/7, but that will end and we will hopefully have three healthy babies as payment. I can't say the same for everyone else in the world. That is something to be grateful for. And it brings some reality to our own pregnancy - things do not always work out as you had planned. Right now, we have more than we bargained for, but that could change in a heartbeat. Our perinatologist so kindly told us that 25% of multiples don't even make it to the 24 week "safe zone," which is a sobering statistic. But for now, I need to be grateful for each day that my peas have in their pod and show true kindness and love to those who are struggling because, well, it's the right thing to do and because it could just as easily have been us.
But then I hear of friends (far too many friends) who are having trouble conceiving or who are having legitimately challenging pregnancies and I have to take a step back. True, it took some medical intervention to get me knocked up, but it worked for us. (In fact, it worked a bit too well, if you ask me.) And true, I feel like I have low-grade flu 24/7, but that will end and we will hopefully have three healthy babies as payment. I can't say the same for everyone else in the world. That is something to be grateful for. And it brings some reality to our own pregnancy - things do not always work out as you had planned. Right now, we have more than we bargained for, but that could change in a heartbeat. Our perinatologist so kindly told us that 25% of multiples don't even make it to the 24 week "safe zone," which is a sobering statistic. But for now, I need to be grateful for each day that my peas have in their pod and show true kindness and love to those who are struggling because, well, it's the right thing to do and because it could just as easily have been us.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
And We're Public
* discovered infertility was the reason we weren't getting pregnant.
* decided to do InVitro Fertilization.
* transferred two blastocysts.
* were told we were having twins - both took!
* told in week 10 there was a third baby. My granddaddy's twin genes had apparently taken affect.
* much shock, changes in doctors and meetings with friends in the medical field.
* acceptance (for the most part) and lots and lots and lots of doctor's appointments.
At this point, we are feeling pretty optimistic. However, this week we met with our new perinatologist (a doctor who works with high risk pregnancies) and he told us about a lot of risks. I know his intent was to inform, but it also put a dark hue on the day. We were not naive to the risks of multiple gestation, but it's hard to hear a list of all of the bad or challenging things that you and your babies may have to endure in the upcoming months. But we realized that there is no use dwelling on the "what ifs," so onward we go!
This is my first (and ONLY) pregnancy, so I have no idea what is normal... and from what everyone tells me, nothing is normal when you're having triplets. And to have all this after IVF makes things even more unusual. But the weirdest thing for me is starting to show. Normally, this doesn't happen for women until 14-15 weeks, but I started to show around 11 weeks and really started to "feel" pregnant body-wise at 12 weeks. Stretching positions I used to do with ease, like the Child's Pose in yoga, have to be modified because there's this weird protrusion where my moderately flat stomach used to be. And it's not fat that can be squished one way or another - it's something else entirely.
It's also strange to think of all of the things we need in order to accommodate three little ones. There's the usual - three cribs, three high chairs - but then there are things you don't think about, like a car that fits three car seats safely in the backseat. Or like nursing accessories that help a bipedal mother with two of, well, everything important, care for and feed three babies. And a bathing system that will easily accommodate an "assembly line" of baby washing that also won't kill my back. Not to mention a house that can comfortably house five people and two dogs when ours is stuffed with two adults and dogs. This gets a little overwhelming, but we made our first step forward on Friday. Actually, I made that first step. I negotiated for and bought us (well, primarily myself - it will be my car officially) a crossover vehicle with third row seating: a 2008 Mazda CX-9. And I got a damn good deal on it, too. In fact, after 1 1/2 hours of negotiating, the manager actually wrote "you won" on the final offer. And although this car meant another car payment (mine was paid off entirely) it also made me feel more confident - like we had taken the first truly practical step in being able to handle this new stage in our lives. It made me more confident. Now, when people say, "Enjoy sleep now because you're not going to get any for a long time" or "Wow! The next few years are going to be really tough," I just want to tell them we can handle it. That we're going to make it look easy. I know it will be different and definitely challenging at times, but my perspective is finally starting to change from naysayer to go-getter, and that's a good feeling.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Mom x3
As usual, too much time has passed and I can't even begin to recount (for myself or posterity's sake) all of the things that have passed since I posted last. But here is a sad attempt to summarize: I went through the entire IVF process successfully. My hCG levels were off the charts, so we figured we'd be having twins. We were right. The week 8 ultrasound showed two sacks with two embryos, each with their own little fluttering hearts and swishing heartbeats. I got the official stamp to move out of specialist territory and into the world of "normal" pregnant women - my OBGYN's office. But when I went there for my week 10 check-up (on Tues Nov. 22), they found not two, but THREE embryos! The next day, I went to a radiologist to confirm and yes, now we are trying to prepare (in all definitions of the word) for THREE babies.
If you've been reading my blog, you know that I have been excited, but reluctant to become a parent. I have never felt that strong biological clock everyone loves to talk about, but we did have a draw towards parenthood. However, I never in my wildest dreams anticipated three babies - in my life, let alone all at once! This has been quite a shock and I'm not sure how successfully I've embraced it yet, but I'm working on it. My husband has been great - almost too great. He's been so optimistic that I almost wonder if he's had any doubts at all, which just seems unnatural to me. My sister was the only one who freaked out with me. That may seem like something a person who is panicking wouldn't want, but it was actually comforting to know that someone else saw the scariness in the situation. I'm sure it will all turn out to be great, but this is a strange, frightening and unknown road for us to travel. It seems only natural to feel some sort of trepidation. And feel it, I do. Luckily, we have some amazing friends and family around us, several of who are in the medical community and - go figure - in the same NICU at a local hospital. But we have others, too, who are familiar with facilities and doctors and are eager to help guide us towards the great places. That is comforting. (Not as comforting as getting some semblance of my body back after this ordeal, but it will have to do for now.)
For now, we're taking it one step at a time. I am grateful for the love and support around us and I'm sure I'll grow into this new role, but it may take me a little longer than I'd like. For now, I'm still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that there are three wiggling, thumb-sucking little human beings in my body and that someday (soon), they are going to push out my belly, give me strange cravings and, God forbid, come out of my body to meet us and the rest of the world.
If you've been reading my blog, you know that I have been excited, but reluctant to become a parent. I have never felt that strong biological clock everyone loves to talk about, but we did have a draw towards parenthood. However, I never in my wildest dreams anticipated three babies - in my life, let alone all at once! This has been quite a shock and I'm not sure how successfully I've embraced it yet, but I'm working on it. My husband has been great - almost too great. He's been so optimistic that I almost wonder if he's had any doubts at all, which just seems unnatural to me. My sister was the only one who freaked out with me. That may seem like something a person who is panicking wouldn't want, but it was actually comforting to know that someone else saw the scariness in the situation. I'm sure it will all turn out to be great, but this is a strange, frightening and unknown road for us to travel. It seems only natural to feel some sort of trepidation. And feel it, I do. Luckily, we have some amazing friends and family around us, several of who are in the medical community and - go figure - in the same NICU at a local hospital. But we have others, too, who are familiar with facilities and doctors and are eager to help guide us towards the great places. That is comforting. (Not as comforting as getting some semblance of my body back after this ordeal, but it will have to do for now.)
For now, we're taking it one step at a time. I am grateful for the love and support around us and I'm sure I'll grow into this new role, but it may take me a little longer than I'd like. For now, I'm still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that there are three wiggling, thumb-sucking little human beings in my body and that someday (soon), they are going to push out my belly, give me strange cravings and, God forbid, come out of my body to meet us and the rest of the world.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
When Do We Get Off?
It's been about two weeks since I've blogged and oh what a two weeks they've been. I started the first of my meds - Lupron - which is a subcutaneous shot done every evening. My husband has been graciously stabbing me in the stomach every night since Tuesday Sept. 13. Now that I'm doing it, the shots aren't so bad; but I was an emotional wreck the weekend prior. I got this good sized box in the mail with a mini-cooler in it with a vial of Lupron, a bunch of alcohol pads and a box of syringes. Thank God this has been a fast process because I don't know if I could have lasted much longer.
On the bright side, I haven't had many side effects. I wasn't sure what would happen to me or my body, but it hasn't been that bad. The worst thing is that the hormones seem to have me suspended in the worst part of my normal cycle - where I get migraines - and I'm not allowed to take Advil, which is my go-to drug. I was told on Tuesday that I can take Imitrex, which I was grateful to know since I got another migraine last night (Wed) but then wished I hadn't known because I felt absolutely miserable. Let's just say the migraine would have been a step up in the area of discomfort.
Aside from that, I've just been itchy. Not terribly itchy, but I'll find myself scratching my palms or wrist area, or the bottoms of my feet will drive me nuts. This is weird because I haven't found anything or anyone (including a pharmacist) who has found that as a side effect. It has continued now that I've started the Ghonal, but I didn't think much of it until today when I got an email from my boss that our campus has had an outbreak of Scabies. And what, you ask, is the primary indicator of Scabies? Itching! So I looked into that and I'm about 99% sure that my itching is unrelated and that I don't have little mites under my skin. Ewww! But seriously, what are the odds?!
But I've been trying to stay positive. It comes and goes. I wish I could say I'm happy all the time, but honestly, I think I'm pissed off more than anything. It may just be hormones, but I hate being angry all of the time. I want to be happy and optimistic, but that so often seems out of reach. Last weekend we did go look at a new baby store in town and it was fun to think of the possibilities. It is easy to get wrapped up in the procedures and forget why we're doing this, but the end result is scary, too, especially when we learned we have a 25% chance of twins since my body is in good shape fertility-wise. Ahh!
We've also told more people than we originally intended. I guess this is just a hard thing to keep quiet. It becomes such a part of your day-to-day life. Hopefully everything will work out for the best and we'll be confirming happy news instead of reporting to a dozen people why we're not pregnant. But it's weird that, no matter how many people we tell, I don't feel any more supported. Neither of my two closest friends have been checking in on me with any sense of regularity. In fact, I've gotten maybe one text from each of them since my first appointment nine days ago. And the other friends, I really only talk to when they're over. So, despite people knowing, support is low. My sister has been good at finding time to call and text, and my mom is always eager for an update, but doesn't want to bother me by calling. Apparently no one understands that I'd like for it to seem like people care. I'm not psychic. I don't know that you're thinking about me and I often feel alone in this process. My husband has been great, but it's not his body so it's not as constant for him. He can step away from it when he wants to, but I can't.
I don't want to dwell or harp or bitch, but this process can be overwhelming. If I was just doing this, it would be one thing, but I'm teaching four classes and am up by 6:30 am every morning. And I come home with lots of work - planning, essay-reading, grading - not to mention normal house work. Now I learn that I'm only going to know 36 hours in advance when my procedure is going to be and it will require me to take a day off. Taking a day off means planning ahead and having a sub lined up... but how do you line up a sub when you don't know what day you need him/her? My boss also doesn't know about this, so at what point do I tell her? And how much do I share? It's a lot to have on your mind at once and when I really think about it, I feel that panic set in and I don't know what to do. I don't think I've ever felt so much anxiety or felt so helpless and I didn't fully realize it until now. People say that the IVF process is stressful and that it's a roller coaster of emotion, but I've felt pretty good. I'm not on a ton of drugs and I haven't felt that abnormal. But when I sit down like to this to reflect, I realize that I have been stressed. I have been on a roller coaster. I suppose it's to be expected, but this is one ride I'll be glad I got on, but I'll be even happier to get off.
On the bright side, I haven't had many side effects. I wasn't sure what would happen to me or my body, but it hasn't been that bad. The worst thing is that the hormones seem to have me suspended in the worst part of my normal cycle - where I get migraines - and I'm not allowed to take Advil, which is my go-to drug. I was told on Tuesday that I can take Imitrex, which I was grateful to know since I got another migraine last night (Wed) but then wished I hadn't known because I felt absolutely miserable. Let's just say the migraine would have been a step up in the area of discomfort.
Aside from that, I've just been itchy. Not terribly itchy, but I'll find myself scratching my palms or wrist area, or the bottoms of my feet will drive me nuts. This is weird because I haven't found anything or anyone (including a pharmacist) who has found that as a side effect. It has continued now that I've started the Ghonal, but I didn't think much of it until today when I got an email from my boss that our campus has had an outbreak of Scabies. And what, you ask, is the primary indicator of Scabies? Itching! So I looked into that and I'm about 99% sure that my itching is unrelated and that I don't have little mites under my skin. Ewww! But seriously, what are the odds?!
But I've been trying to stay positive. It comes and goes. I wish I could say I'm happy all the time, but honestly, I think I'm pissed off more than anything. It may just be hormones, but I hate being angry all of the time. I want to be happy and optimistic, but that so often seems out of reach. Last weekend we did go look at a new baby store in town and it was fun to think of the possibilities. It is easy to get wrapped up in the procedures and forget why we're doing this, but the end result is scary, too, especially when we learned we have a 25% chance of twins since my body is in good shape fertility-wise. Ahh!
We've also told more people than we originally intended. I guess this is just a hard thing to keep quiet. It becomes such a part of your day-to-day life. Hopefully everything will work out for the best and we'll be confirming happy news instead of reporting to a dozen people why we're not pregnant. But it's weird that, no matter how many people we tell, I don't feel any more supported. Neither of my two closest friends have been checking in on me with any sense of regularity. In fact, I've gotten maybe one text from each of them since my first appointment nine days ago. And the other friends, I really only talk to when they're over. So, despite people knowing, support is low. My sister has been good at finding time to call and text, and my mom is always eager for an update, but doesn't want to bother me by calling. Apparently no one understands that I'd like for it to seem like people care. I'm not psychic. I don't know that you're thinking about me and I often feel alone in this process. My husband has been great, but it's not his body so it's not as constant for him. He can step away from it when he wants to, but I can't.
I don't want to dwell or harp or bitch, but this process can be overwhelming. If I was just doing this, it would be one thing, but I'm teaching four classes and am up by 6:30 am every morning. And I come home with lots of work - planning, essay-reading, grading - not to mention normal house work. Now I learn that I'm only going to know 36 hours in advance when my procedure is going to be and it will require me to take a day off. Taking a day off means planning ahead and having a sub lined up... but how do you line up a sub when you don't know what day you need him/her? My boss also doesn't know about this, so at what point do I tell her? And how much do I share? It's a lot to have on your mind at once and when I really think about it, I feel that panic set in and I don't know what to do. I don't think I've ever felt so much anxiety or felt so helpless and I didn't fully realize it until now. People say that the IVF process is stressful and that it's a roller coaster of emotion, but I've felt pretty good. I'm not on a ton of drugs and I haven't felt that abnormal. But when I sit down like to this to reflect, I realize that I have been stressed. I have been on a roller coaster. I suppose it's to be expected, but this is one ride I'll be glad I got on, but I'll be even happier to get off.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Deep Breaths
In the past two weeks, I have visited the ER for blood work, had a vaginal ultrasound, taken medications, had an X-Ray of my uterus, and consulted with my fertility doctor about our IVF schedule. Today, I received my temperature controlled box of medication and syringes. And in the next three weeks I will have my blood drawn at least three times and have a minimum of two doctor's appointments. And in that fourth week? That's when IVF will occur. Needless to say, I'm feeling a little anxious.
With this last visit, I received a lot of information, but one specific sheet was about stress. It said that women preparing to undergo IVF often have the same stress levels of a person undergoing treatment for a terminal illness. This is not comforting, but it is reassuring that I'm not going nuts. Yesterday, I was nauseous from the time of our appointment until I went to sleep. I kept sighing every 5-10 minutes. I took a lot of deep breaths. But right before I went to bed, I asked myself, "why are you so stressed out?" I couldn't really answer. For many women, the procedures themselves are the scary part. So many people don't like doctors and hospitals that the thought of blood being taken or going in for outpatient surgery sends them through the roof. But I'm not that way. It's not that I enjoy having medical work done, but I don't dread it, either. Is it the shots? Perhaps. I have to say the prospect of stabbing myself in the stomach every day for a while, and then twice a day for a while after that, does not leave me with a warm fuzzy feeling. But I'm sure once I've done it once or twice, the fear of the unknown will vanish and it will become just another minor procedure. Perhaps it's impending parenthood and the stresses of actually being pregnant. That is something that seems daunting, too. I guess the bottom line is that I'm scared of the unknown.
So how do I relieve that stress? How do I make myself not anxious or afraid of what's ahead? I am not generally an anxious person, but this is different. But I am also told that I need to minimize stress during all of this. Easy for them to say! They're not teaching four eight-week classes and having people shove stuff into veins and orifices every few days! They say communication, yoga, and deep breathing will help. But I'm doing these things and my stomach still feels like a tight ball in my torso. I now have a box of needles and a vial of medication in my refrigerator, which I'm going to see every day when I open up the door to get a snack. But I don't even have to open the door to be reminded of this. I have paperwork to sign, tests to take, reminders on my phone... not to mention dietary restrictions and the changes that are already going on in my body. I want to be excited about this - the process and the intended result. I've written about keeping an emotional buffer, but we've talked about the need to be excited. To not expect the worse and celebrate the possibilities. But I don't even know how to do that! I bought a really cool book called The Pregnant Body, which I've been reading. But in my head, the only real thing is the next step, whether it's the meds, an appointment or a procedure. And then there is work... and time off in week four... and...
How do you turn off your brain and just do what needs to be done? My husband has been great thus far and he wants to be my "rock," so that when I feel lost or confused (or name any other love song cliche) I can (wait for it) lean on him. This is great, but sometimes it makes him seem detached. Perhaps he is detached. I mean, it's not his body. He may have to help give me shots, but they're not going in his belly. His hormones aren't going to go crazy. He's not going to get morning sickness or watch his belly grow exponentially!
But I want to be happy about all of this. And I think I am, beneath all of the panic. I want my friends (those who we've told) to be excited, and they probably are beneath the distractions of their own lives. I want to accept that this is happening - that we have chosen it (and are paying a lot for this choice) - and enjoy it through all of it's stages. Maybe if I keep writing, saying, and thinking this mantra, it will be true. And in between the mantra? Lots of deep breaths.
With this last visit, I received a lot of information, but one specific sheet was about stress. It said that women preparing to undergo IVF often have the same stress levels of a person undergoing treatment for a terminal illness. This is not comforting, but it is reassuring that I'm not going nuts. Yesterday, I was nauseous from the time of our appointment until I went to sleep. I kept sighing every 5-10 minutes. I took a lot of deep breaths. But right before I went to bed, I asked myself, "why are you so stressed out?" I couldn't really answer. For many women, the procedures themselves are the scary part. So many people don't like doctors and hospitals that the thought of blood being taken or going in for outpatient surgery sends them through the roof. But I'm not that way. It's not that I enjoy having medical work done, but I don't dread it, either. Is it the shots? Perhaps. I have to say the prospect of stabbing myself in the stomach every day for a while, and then twice a day for a while after that, does not leave me with a warm fuzzy feeling. But I'm sure once I've done it once or twice, the fear of the unknown will vanish and it will become just another minor procedure. Perhaps it's impending parenthood and the stresses of actually being pregnant. That is something that seems daunting, too. I guess the bottom line is that I'm scared of the unknown.
So how do I relieve that stress? How do I make myself not anxious or afraid of what's ahead? I am not generally an anxious person, but this is different. But I am also told that I need to minimize stress during all of this. Easy for them to say! They're not teaching four eight-week classes and having people shove stuff into veins and orifices every few days! They say communication, yoga, and deep breathing will help. But I'm doing these things and my stomach still feels like a tight ball in my torso. I now have a box of needles and a vial of medication in my refrigerator, which I'm going to see every day when I open up the door to get a snack. But I don't even have to open the door to be reminded of this. I have paperwork to sign, tests to take, reminders on my phone... not to mention dietary restrictions and the changes that are already going on in my body. I want to be excited about this - the process and the intended result. I've written about keeping an emotional buffer, but we've talked about the need to be excited. To not expect the worse and celebrate the possibilities. But I don't even know how to do that! I bought a really cool book called The Pregnant Body, which I've been reading. But in my head, the only real thing is the next step, whether it's the meds, an appointment or a procedure. And then there is work... and time off in week four... and...
How do you turn off your brain and just do what needs to be done? My husband has been great thus far and he wants to be my "rock," so that when I feel lost or confused (or name any other love song cliche) I can (wait for it) lean on him. This is great, but sometimes it makes him seem detached. Perhaps he is detached. I mean, it's not his body. He may have to help give me shots, but they're not going in his belly. His hormones aren't going to go crazy. He's not going to get morning sickness or watch his belly grow exponentially!
But I want to be happy about all of this. And I think I am, beneath all of the panic. I want my friends (those who we've told) to be excited, and they probably are beneath the distractions of their own lives. I want to accept that this is happening - that we have chosen it (and are paying a lot for this choice) - and enjoy it through all of it's stages. Maybe if I keep writing, saying, and thinking this mantra, it will be true. And in between the mantra? Lots of deep breaths.
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