“Yeah, Me TOO” Episode 3: IT’s Getting REAL
Twenty-four hours after our med class, I can firmly say I didn’t get what I expected from it.
In truth, I didn’t believe this path could get any more real, if you get what I mean.
But last night the universe decided to humor itself at my expense: things got real, real, real.
First, I’d like to say that this is of no doing by MCRM. In fact, what MCRM provided us last night was invaluable:
- A chance to talk to our coordinators outside of emailing and appointments
- The opportunity to meet others cycling in September
- A solid training on how to mix and inject medicines, including 1:1 time for questions and the knowledge that the videos are available when/if we need as a refresher
I’m sure there are other ways this class can be run. Heck, they could’ve simply played the videos for us and wished us well, but the coordinators were convinced that a little extra time and effort could help us feel more confident. For that, I’m grateful. Seriously. And, no, I don’t have some kind of insider information on their training philosophies. I simply felt their effort and encouragement.
Before we even started talking about dosing and looking at our own calendars to figure out the cocktail requirements for each syringe, the coordinators reminded us of the things we CAN do this phase of the journey.
Of upmost importance?
Enjoy your spouse.
Phew. What a relief.
They nailed it when they mentioned we’ve all already done some seriously hard work. That we’ve temped or charted or struggled along through screenings to find our answer. Now that we’ve signed on for IVF, we have that answer. We are there. So it’s time to start worrying a little less and start living a little more.
We were given permission to drink that glass of wine we want (with the exception being around retrieval time). Heck, we might be able to – gasp – enjoy sex again. No matter what we could orshould be able to do, they used these examples to empower us. “ Lighten up, guys. You’ve already done so much hard work.”
My dude was a champ through class, modeling each direction that came to us and reminding me that he’ll be my rock through it all. In fact, by the time the class was over I was incredibly thankful he was there with me, learning about how to move forward and leading me through what I can only describe as emotional diarrhea. See, while all of the instructions were being handed out, I was raging inside: from pride in him, from fear of the unknown, from the reality that we were practicing for real life, the excitement that we are FINALLY here…all to make a little family we’ve been wanting for as long as we’ve been married.
I was happy. I was nervous. I was uncontrollably all over the place.
When all of the questions were answered and we got down to business on contracts and legalities, I couldn’t help but see how real this was.
- What would we want to do with the frozen embryos if one of us passed away?
- What would we do with the rest of our embryos when we got pregnant?
- Were we open to embryo donation?
Guys, these are questions I absolutely never anticipated grappling with, let alone needing a final answer. We did our best, talking out each scenario while the coordinators continuously said, “You do NOT have to sign these papers tonight. You can take them home and think about what you want to do. We encourage you to do what’s best for you.”
That’s when the guilt hits. When you look at what you’ve previously believed (or not) about science and fertility and politics and you realize that – when your hand is forced to make a decision – it’s not as easy as putting any one of these issues into a safe, tidy box. You realize your want outweighs whatever naïve belief you held, or you realize you’re comfortable because you’re moving in line with your beliefs.
Either way, it was easy to tell many of us had – at the very least – thought about these things (or knew they were coming) but that – until the paperwork is in your lap – it’s not as real.
My first batch of drugs were delivered to my house this morning. That made it more real, too.
Tomorrow morning, if I haven’t started my period that’s WAY overdue, I’ll likely have to administer my first injectable while my husband is at work (it’s a morning dosage, not a nighttime one). Now it’s a real thing. A real, real thing.
You’ll likely be reading this a few days after I’ve written it, and that’s okay. Most of us haven’t actually started meds (except prenatal vitamins and birth control) and we still have a bit of time before daily injections are our life. I promise to let you know how the first one goes…just in case you’re a first timer (like me) and need a little support.
All of that aside, I can’t help but wonder how much MORE real this journey will get. If, a week into meds, I’ll decide I’m not strong enough or I’m sick of it (in a brief, awful moment of fear). I can’t help wonder how the joy of it all will show up, too. Because the pride and love I felt for my husband while he sat in that chair and assembled, mixed, dissembled and such, was such a fantastic feeling. I feel safer, less anxious, and more loved because of him.
And I can’t help but laugh while I ponder all of this, knowing that I need to take it one day at a time to get through this month. Yes, that leaves me open to feeling all the feels, but it also lets me handle and/or enjoy each of them as they crop up.
That’s a beautiful thing.
The injection of Cetrocide happened at 6:30 a.m. on 9/2/16. This was for complications with my cycle, so don’t fear if you haven’t been instructed to stick yourself yet. After a 30-second panic cycle for both of us, we were able to calm it down and hold ourselves together enough to get the job done. Guys, it really wasn’t bad at all. I mean, he did the injecting so I can’t speak to that. My injection site stung and itched briefly and, for about thirty minutes after, I had a red rash. After that disappeared the itch subsided.
Heck, I’ve even gone about life as normal today.
In a way I’m sort of glad I needed this initial injection. It made the fear of what’s to come so much smaller.
This weekend my husband and I are heading out to find a heating pad and some extra comfy yoga pants. I have a feeling both will come in handy as the weeks progress.
Guess what, guys?
We’ve got this!
About Lindsay Fischer & Her Books
Lindsay Fischer was once a high school English teacher with dreams stretching far outside the classroom. Lindsay has faced numerous turmoils and pitfalls in her life and today’s revolve around the dream of becoming a loving mother. Lindsay’s two books, The House on Sunset and The Two Week Wait Challenge: A Sassy Girl’s Guide to Surviving the TWW both provide self-help advice for how others can battle through as has Lindsay.