4 effen years

Sometimes infertility just hits you head on and pins you to the ground screaming "uncle" so it will release it's breath crushing hold on you temporarily so just can just catch your breath. Other times you are sitting at the computer reading an article about the latest yuppie trend of combining yoga and wine tasting and you notice your face is raining on the keyboard and it is not because you are upset over what you are reading. Although....the tears could have been justified in this situation.

Up until today I was having a delightful weekend. I met another dear infertile for drinks and coffee on Friday. I left feeling inspired, energized, and for once “not alone” in this big city of seemingly reproductively normal folks. There was even talk of a infertile gathering……

Saturday was a neutral wash of a day. I had intended on taking mr. doggie to his daycare evaluation and then DH and I would head over to help my sister move. The move went as well as 7 solid hours with my parents could ever be. In that short amount of time they have once again given us a lifetime of conversation topics that leave us shaking our heads and wondering who my real parents are. Matisse got to help because the evaluation never happened. (Un)fortunately Mr. Toots has not been vaccinated for kennel cough and apparently it can run wild where dogs come together for playtime. I am a bit leery about additional vaccinations for my pooch, but I will most likely read about the horrors on the internet and then give in so he doesn’t have to stay home when DH is gone for extended meetings or we have some lengthy “dog-free” commitment. Imagine that, a spoiled dog alone sitting on his chair, blanketed by his down comforter, in his purple painted bedroom, watching Anim.al Pla.net for 8 hours – I fully recognize I need a child, err, I mean help. Actually, I need both.

So when a fellow elevator rider asks me tomorrow about my weekend I can honestly reply that I can file it under “g” for good. What do I have to complain about….. my weekend was not that bad compared to some of you hit by the early onslaught of holiday family cheer or the stroller pushing mall goers trying to finish up their final purchases for their herd of spoiled brats that they did not have to take out a second mortgage to create. I even got to participate in “feel good” activities like return a lost pet to her owner on a day that happened to be his daughter’s b-day. I should be happy as can be, but instead I am not.
I don’t know how to explain how I am feeling right now. For starters, I am worried about my enlarged ureter and the long wait till I see the specialist on the 23rd of Jan. Also, I am eager to get the holiday season over so I can throw away all the cookies that I continue to eat and actually try to loose my last 10lbs. Finally, I am not looking forwards to spending saturday with my 16 cousins, their countless children, and all my mousy and sub-servant aunts. Although, it is really not the holiday season that is to blame for my flat mood. The real culprit is my ongoing struggle with infertility.

While scanning the online site our friends set up to share photos of their newborn (Friday) daughter I started bawling. Do you realize that if we miraculously got pg this month it would be 4 years since we started trying at the time our miracle child would be born. 4 Effen years.

4 Effen years means lots of heartache, many failed procedures, countless dollars wasted, and 4 years of my life that I will never get back. Friends have gotten married and had children in that time. I said children – not one but, multiple children. Friendships have been lost through our struggle and our marriage has been tested. At what point do we just walk away, move onto the next thing, and actually start making progress towards a family where the child does not have fur.

The problem is that we are stuck. Currently we are waiting to do our final cost share IVF after I take DHEA for 4 months. So, that puts us out into April. We could start our adoption stuff right now so as soon as IVF #3 fails we could do our home study and get a referral. BUT, we are fortunate to have a 22-year-old egg donor who is willing now, but may not be so willing in a few years when we are ready to pursue her eggs again and have the adoption paid down. Follow that? Add to the mix that Dr. Bowtie is really close to letting us do the donor cost share at our clinic with her, even though they have no official donor cost share program. Once I hook him I need to move fast – he is at the advanced part of his career and who knows if he will still be devoting his life to infertile me when he could easily just walk away. So really, we are not stuck, but I don’t like my options. Time just seems to be moving slowly and leaving me behind. Next year I fear I will be in the same place with a different set of circumstances writing a post titled 5 effen years.