“I’d Like 12 Place Settings Of The Bone China, And A Follistim Pen.”
There were so many possible reasons for me to sniffle, hurk, and finally sob in my car yesterday morning, on the way to work.
It could have been from the heat—it had been over 100 degrees the day before, with humidity that inspired an argument between me and the Actually about whether the air felt more like walking through pudding or like being wrapped in still-damp towels hot from the dryer.
The tears could have been the aftermath of my morning protein shake, a shake that I am certain was one part chocolate soy milk, one part sidewalk chalk, and two parts rancid prime rib.
Or I could have been despondent because I would be spending the workday smelling like a hobo: When I walked to my car, I attributed the dank, mildewy smell wafting through the air to the world at large, via the last night’s rain. It wasn’t until I merged onto the freeway that I realized the source of the odor was my own sleeve, via the shirt I had hung to dry the night before.
But, as it happens, none of these things were the reason for the “I’ll-be-damned-if-I’ll-cry-off-a-perfectly-good-makeup-application” rapid blinking.
I was just so tired of not being pregnant.
I know! I am a little embarrassed even writing it. After all, I was the one who was so gung ho about putting off further reproductive efforts until after the wedding—champagne fountain and all that, you’ll remember. But…But, but, but…
Maybe it started when the empty office across from me was filled, a few weeks ago, with a newly hired attorney—due in September. Possibly it was the realization, as I attempted to rearrange my Bloglines account, that nearly all of my blogging friends are now either pregnant or the parents of real, live babies. It could be the fact that no matter how pointedly I ignore it, the calendar reminds me that I would be getting ready for a first birthday party in a few weeks, if the kid had only had the courtesy to develop a heartbeat.
But none of the things I have listed get at the crux of the matter, which is that I just really, really want to have a child, and I have wanted it for a long time, and it doesn’t matter what caused my sudden backslide into misery. The result is the same: me, not pregnant, ruining my mascara as I hurtle down the road, hiccupping.
I have dozens of reasoned yet passionate explanations for why I want children, someday. What continues to puzzle me is that lurching, knife-in-the-sternum feeling that every month I wait is one month too many. Aside from all the obvious ways that wanting a child is different from wanting something else–like, say, a book contract or a pony–the sense of urgency seems to me to be unique. There are times at which I find my desire to have children, right this very minute, completely mystifying. Sometimes it seems that the part of me that is perfectly content to wait until the perfect time arrives to commence childrearing is an entirely different species than the part of me that cries every time I get my period. Sometimes I tire of the Sybil-esque switching from one position to the next—wait, don’t wait, wait, don’t wait.
Today I feel much better, but I do have an appointment at my clinic on the 18th. Yes, I am slinking back to Dr. Doctor with my tail between my legs (which will probably make it difficult for her to conduct the exam—BWAhaha!)
I’m not really sure why I’m going. Our plan was two quick IUIs next summer before moving straight to IVF in the fall. Even on that extended timeline it is somewhat of a mystery how we will finance IVF—there is no way, financially, for us to do so any sooner than we had planned. If I were ovulating on Metformin we could try a smattering of natural cycles in the interim, but HA! HA HA HA HA HA!
Ahem.
Gracious, I am like a sulky teen today, what with the whining. I might as well stomp my wee foot for emphasis.
I no longer remember where I was going with this post, except to ask—do any of you ever feel baffled by the strength of your desire for children? Just utterly flummoxed by the inability of some part of you to be patient and listen to reason?
Also: Do you think my RE’s office has a bridal registry?
23 Comments
I have three boys and the desire to have each one was baffeling/overwhelming/urgent. My pregnancies were all pretty straight forward but I soon found out that the strength of my desire for a baby was eclipsed by my love for them once they arrived.
They are big kids now and I love them so much it’s scary.
I’m so sorry Alexa. Some days its easier to be patient than others, espcially when there are promotions, and moving, and weddings, and finals all directly ahead of us…but, at least in my experience, the infertility always catches us. And those days suck.
Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.
And yes, I am periodically poleaxed by the desire to snuffle a little head Right. Now.
There are definitely days/hours/years that are harder than others, and when the hard ones hit, the desire to sniff some baby sweetness (as opposed to one’s own mildewy shirt) is overwhelming.
I honestly thought that, since I’d gotten pregnant and had a baby after primary IF, I’d be able to accept it more easily if it didn’t happen again. And now, I am very often shocked at how desperately I NEED to feel that again. I thought I wouldn’t feel such a strong urge after I got pregnant with P. I was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. If I can’t give birth to another baby, we’ll adopt and I’ll get to be a mom to more kids. But now I know that I will always carry the burden of IF with me.
I’m excited that you’re going back.
Oh sweetie. It’s gonna be ok. You are no more nuts than the rest of the bunch of us. Crying in your car is totally. More people should do it.
And almost everyone has those apron string longings…and I can only imagine how they might feel for you. I’m thinking of you.
The whole crazy mess (and it is messy) of getting pregnant is nutty. As is the staying pregnant part, the can’t wait to have this baby part, and the can’t wait to have the baby smile, crawl, walk, talk, work the vacuum, drive, pay our mortgage part.
When we were trying, every single moment of every single day was focused (at least for me) on my reproductive cycle. And then when we actually got pregnant, all I could think about was staying pregnant (my younger sister had miscarried only 14 days before we conceived when she was 11 weeks pregnant.) All the anxiety, paired with having a wedding, two receptions, two negative pregnancy tests at the doctor’s office (idiots) and not being able to find a pair of shoes that were right to get married in just about made me lose my mind.
But I made it through. And so will you. I know you will because you are strong, smart, and funny and you are loved. And someday a little baby will come into your family and stay a long, long time.
And if you really need to love up some baby, just make the Actually put some baby powder on his privates and give him a cuddle.
Oh my God, Alexa. Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES! I absolutely know what that’s like. TOTALLY. There are times when I’m actually fine — just cruisin’ along going, “I’m doing all I can for now; it’ll happen when it happens.” And then WHAM! Blindsided. The next second I’m sobbing in my car (or in the bathroom at work, or on line in the supermarket…) And the calendar reminders are especially fun. (I’d have a 16-month old now, if the kid had seen fit to stick around!) These are the times when Vikingboy and I mix it up–either in person or on the phone. When that “knife in the sternum” thing hits, I become a different person. I can’t explain it, and he can’t comprehend it, and until the blind panic/rage/desire abates, there’s nothing in the world except the fact that I. Want. A. Child. And. I. Don’t. Have. One. DAMMIT!
I didn’t give any credit to my will to have a baby until after my HSG several years ago. I had been fine up until that point, but after that, I spent the whole weekend sobbing in a bottle (make that bottles) of wine, unable to do anything else. I couldn’t even form complete sentences. I spent a lot of time after that trying to explain and justify the feeling- much of what my blog had to say- but none of my thinking through it ever really completely explained the depth of the pain.
Yes. Absolutely. And I am glad someone else can identify. I guess for me it’s a little different - my desire is compounded by the fact that I haven’t met Right Guy yet, so I still have to wait on him, and hopefully all this current reproductive nonsense will be nothing, but if it is not, I will have to deal with the infertility then. There are so many days that I think I can just deal, and that I do. But then there are days (or weeks) where I find out two of my friends are expecting within a week of one another, their second and third kids, and I am turning 26 in 2 days and am no closer to having my first than I was at 25. In fact, I might be farther away.
At any rate - I guess you (I, we) just keep pushing through.
Dear Alexa, I am so sorry I’ve been away for so long — I had no idea my vacation would be so Internet-challenged. Anyway, I’m caught up now, and thoroughly amused to boot. Congratulations on your promotion!
And that wish for a child — NOW? I know what you’re talking about. I’ve never had another wish with such visceral urgency before. It comes in waves, but when a wave hits, it’s utter misery.
Sending fertility-pregnancy-procreation-multiplication-gestational vibes your way. :)
It’s so funny you should post about this as I was just berating myself the other day for looking at adoption agencies. Hubby has been sent back to college full time to finish his degree and we are surviving solely on my income as an editor (congrats, btw, on your awesome promotion!). We are in NO position financially to start this process, and yet the idea of WAITING for at least another year seems impossible. Having followed Karen’s rollercoaster journey of adoption from the beginning, I know it could be YEARS before I become a mother - and while that works well with our practical financial plan, it does NOT work with my biological clock’s plan. Sometimes, when I get word that a friend from high school or coworker who is my age is pregnant with their second, or even third child, I do feel like throwing a big temper tantrum and stamping my foot at the unfairness of it all. “I WANT MY TURN!” I feel like yelling at the powers that be. Those bastards… But whatever you decide to do and however it all turns out, know that we’re here, cheering you along the way, and never for a moment thinking that you are crazy. :)
Oh sweetie. I know that feeling all too well. The thing is, the desire for a child, whenever the urge comes, is just so primal, it doesn’t wait for logic or reasoning. You could be (like me when we started TTC) self-employed, with a husband starting his own business, not knowing from month to month if you’ll be able to scrape together the cash to pay student loans, living in a crappy apartment with only one lazy cat to keep the roaches at bay, and your heart and soul insists that NOW! is the time and you have to go for it.
The other thing is, there is no “perfect” time to have a child. And I promise you, if you are pregnant next May, you may look longingly at that champagne fountain, but you will not regret it for one instant.
So excited for you that you’re considering moving ahead. Also: RE registry? Brilliant!
I’ve stopped moving people on my blog list because of the same reason. I understand. Some days it’s just so hard.
Yes, yes, yes. I know this so well. Oh my. we did take the summer off because we just had too much going on. But can I tell you that every time I though I was ovulating I would panic, wondering if we were making a mistake? And every time another of my friends announces a pregnancy I still kick myself for wasting time. Nothing you do is quite righgt. This process fucks with your head in such a major way, but I still say that taking off three months was a good thing even though you will never be 100% okay with doing it. If that’s what you decide, my advice is live it up, do all the stuff you can’t do when you’re on hormones or waiting out the two weeks til your period. Make the most of it and remember that you are getting your head back to a better place to start this grueling process all over again with renewed energy.
There is just nothing, I don’t think, absolutely nothing that is reasonable, rational or “wise” about really really really wanting a baby. It just takes over. And I swear, if you’ll let me, that since I’ve been able to have a baby, I can attest to the fact that it is indeed mystical and indescribable, because all brains would have stopped the silliness after the first go round or two. Humanity would have died out, I’m sure of it. It makes no sense. It just demands. It must be primal. If you put it all down on paper, who in their “right” mind wants to give and sacrifice the way that is required when having offspring? No one. It’s a long long column of “cons” bested by one little “pro”. BABY. We’d have a baby. I want to have a baby.
So, all I can say is that you are normal. And the rest of the internet hopes/prays/crosses all body parts that you get your most fervent desire. For reasons inexplicable, it’s worth it.
When IF hits it just seems like every month is a year passing by. I am really sorry that you have to go down this road and I wish you success very soon.
Take care
It is primal. And I think once your heart has decided you’re in the right place, there’s no chance of your head winning that argument.
I’m sorry you’re not ovulating with the met - any idea how long that usually takes to work? Will clomid work for you at all? I hope that Dr. Doctor is able to help you with a plan that is emotionally and financially feasible!
Oh, man, I know what you mean. No matter how great everything else may be going, that need can cut through everything. It really sucks when it just broadsides you, too.
I think that your RE’s office should totally offer a registry–perhaps with an explanation like, “For $100, you can sponsor a vial of Follistim,” etc. Much more helpful than silverware or gifts you’ll never use.
Good luck, sweetie. I hope your doctor has some good answers and advice.
I’m back from the Corn Belt, your new site design is so AWESOME I’m jealous, and I am so sorry you’re feeling down. You don’t have to slink anywhere with your tail between your legs; you’re allowed to change your mind as often as you like. You’re free and an adult- do whatever you want and then blog about it. We love you.
Ok - a little late to the party, but yes, the need for her was well - a need. Deep, primal. And everything I did to get her was worth it. Do what you need to do. Gut feelings like that - well, sometimes your body/heart knows more than your head.
Hey - move to Massachusetts, infertility coverage is mandated.
I was so jealous when you said you were putting fertility on hold to plan your wedding. The idea of planning an event with certain success (plus a kick ass dress) sounded so pleasant. I’m sorry fertility snuck up again.
Hey if our Mind/Body group is going to have a garage sale to raise money for one of the other girls. Maybe we should plan our own little event. Bake sale? No I’d eat all the profits. Something with liquor? No we’d probably drink all the inventory. I’ll keep thinking!
Very, very sorry to read about your pain, A. How so many of us can relate!
(AF arrived today–damn her to hell.)
I was diagnosed as “hopeless” by an RE who didn’t even bother to do a pelvic–’High Day 3 FSH’ –just another of the many special slap-the-patient-down diagnoses our RE’s give us.
The hopeful part I offer is http://www.fertileheart.com…the site of Julia Indichova, author of “Inconceivable.” She was told hers was a virtually hopeless case (same diagnosis as mine, but an even worse score). Her healthy baby was born some 13 years ago and is a sweet teenager today. HA! to the smug RE’s of the world.
Julia was 44 at the time her daughter was born.
Her route? Yoga, organic food, no dairy save for yogurt, and a few other paths, but no drugs. Not because she was against them, but because no RE would see her–too hopeless. When she got her FSH down to a level that one would accept her as a patient, she tested pregnancy positive!
Using her methods, I’ve lowered my FSH from 30 (hopeless; hang it up!) to 6.7 (normal). Not pregnant yet (obviously), but very hopeful.
She isn’t against drugs today, but encourages trying some alternatives.
She has stacks of happy letters and baby photos from clients with a wide variety of diagnoses, who were told a baby would never happen for them. Reading Julia’s book can be a wonderful boost.
As you’re likely more aware than I, metformin can really mess with your blood sugar, and thus your mood, and likely contributed to your moment in the car.
Regardless, moments of searing pain and dark sorrow are utterly understandable. I would guess most of us reading your fantastic blog have had several.
Do check out fertileheart.com, and “Inconceivable.” Again, she was 44!–you have plenty of time. Take heart.
Hopefully we’ll get to send you lovely minimal-use dust-collecting serviceware as wedding gifts, rather than making contributions to Dr. Doctor’s drugs, syringes, and petri dishes.
It is bizarre, isn’t it? The phrase “biological clock” just doesn’t carry enough weight. It IS primal, and intense.
In 2002 I had a miscarriage at 17 weeks, in ‘03 I had my son, in ‘04 I had a miscarriage at 7 weeks, in ‘05 a m/c at 7w, in ‘06 a m/c at 8w. I STILL feel the urge to continue, to have one more baby. And I’m 44. Makes no logical sense whatsoever.
One Trackback
[…] | home | previous post: “I’d Like 12 Place Settings Of The Bone China, And A Follistim Pen.” […]