Epic conversations are usually triggered by some small event, a question, a glance, a mutterance. And, sometimes, they are triggered by a seemingly terrible events. I’ve had several epic conversations over the past few days since those terrible two days last week.
Conversation No. 1: the most important of them all, took place with Mr. X over a period of several hours and several locations and focused on that question: what next? I have been supremely blessed to have married a man who gets me and who is usually squarely on the same page as I am. With respect to infertility, we have been on the same page pretty much the entire time and I know how fortunate I am. Thankfully, we are still on the same page.
That page happens to be: 1) take a break, 2) flirt with the idea of maybe this isn’t all worth what may or may not come out of my hoohah in nine months and maybe people who choose (emphasis here being on CHOOSE) to live childfree have something with that idea, and 3) maybe do another IVF. I was so relieved to know that he felt the same way that I did. I was incredibly relieved that he had also been thinking that maybe not having children wouldn’t be the end of the world and that we could have a wonderful life that would be full and rich. I felt so guilty that I was having those thoughts, as if I was giving up on him and our desire to have children. So, it was very nice to know that he was having them too. It doesn’t necessarily mean that we won’t ever have children, it just means that right now, we need a break to evaluate what we really want. Then, maybe, we’ll do another IVF.
Conversation No. 2: Since Mr. X was out of town last week during the hellacious two days, I got a lot of my support via the phone from him and my parents. My parents haven’t been too close to the battle lines – they know what has been going on, but we haven’t had many discussions of what I was thinking, etc. They don’t know about this blog (and I plan to keep it that way) and haven’t been exposed to alot of the negativity that this process entails. I ended up having a wonderful conversation with my mother about all of it – is this really worth it, was she ambivalent about having children, etc. I wasn’t looking for answers to my questions, more just that catharsis that comes from relieving yourself to someone who knows you so well and can really help.
Conversation No. 3: I was able to see my therapist on Thursday which I really needed since I felt like I had been through the wringer in less than 24 hours. In that session, she brought up the idea that maybe it was time for me and Dr. Uterus to part ways. I have written before about how he shares his space with a high risk OB and the pain that this causes. But, it’s to the point where the thought of going to his office makes me want to cry – so this very well may be a good notion. I feel such loyalty to him – he’s a wonderful doctor and has stuck with me for the past two years, through a lot of shit. But, – but – how many more times can I go back there where every single room has a bad memory?
Conversation No. 4: I spoke with Nurse to a T this afternoon about last week. Of all of the conversations I had this past week, this was the most definitive. Here are the highlights:
My beta of 3 was technically a negative. So, no chemical pregnancy (yay!) and no repeat miscarriage designation (double yay!). I am genuinely thrilled about this because I was really not looking forward to adding a third to the list.
I gave Nurse to a T the exact run down of how badly the whole experience was handled last week. She was on vacation and they had someone else doing the calls. The someone else simply said, “We have a number. It’s three. Dr. Uterus wants you to come back in tomorrow for a repeat blood test. Is that ok?” After I explained how awful this was, I added how disappointed I was in how it was handled. Bless her heart, Nurse to a T got it (and gets it) and hopefully will speak to Dr. Uterus.
- I also told her of the gauntlet that I had to run to get out of there dodging the chipper staff and the baby and how frustrating that is for someone who has gotten such shitty news. I even offered to do an inservice for the staff to explain What You Don’t Do When There Are Infertile Ladies Around. We’ll see if anything comes from that. I did tell her my ultimate wish: a separate waiting area. That would be heaven. I doubt it will happen, but just being able to say it to someone who has some measure of ability to get it done, felt great.
So, lots of talking and lots of understanding. It was a good weekend.