Calendar Girl

Yesterday, I sat down at my desk and turned the page in my monthly calendar to start June.  I love turning the page to see the clean pages that haven’t had drinks spilled on them or scribblings filling up the days. 

This June, however, has grown a page: my IVF calendar. I stuck it in the folds of June so that I wouldn’t lose it but I also wouldn’t constantly be reminded in May of what was coming up.

June is now upon us and the IVF calendar is looking hopeful that it won’t have to be stuck in the dark for 30 more days.  It’s been saying to me, “Time to gear up for IVF! Aren’t you excited?! I’m excited! I even say, ‘Think positive!’ Isn’t that awesome!?”

I’m saying to it, “Chill, buddy. Keep your caps on for a little while longer.  You don’t even begin until next week so why don’t you just go hang out with the other important documents in my filing cabinet where you can continue to stay clean and dry?”

Truth be told, I’ve reached that point in my infertility treatment journey that the beginning of a new IVF is neither exciting nor terrifying. It just is.  I try not to think about the enormity of the entire thing, but compartmentalize it into the various sections: suppression, stimulation, retrieval and beyond.  It’s like eating a steak – you start at one end and bite by bite you make a dent.  I also take it like recovery – one day at a time.  If I start thinking down the road, the thoughts snowball into a giant ball of expectations that starts to chase me like Indiana Jones after he steals the gold idol.  Unlike him, I tend to get flattened most everytime.  I finally learned to turn off the thoughts of After This IVF and channel them into more immediate, and usually frivolous pursuits, such as contemplating what I am going to wear the next day.  It’s more a manfiestation of my need to plan (which is code for need to be a control freak) than a desire to really day dream about this time maybe it actually working.  I’d much rather expend that time and effort into something that I can control and still makes me happy. 

For now, the birth control pills are still winding down, the medicine is chilling like a fine wine in the fridge and I’ve set my baseline appointment for some not too soon, but not to far away date. And, for now, I’m very content to know that neither tomorrow nor even the next day will see me taking out that IVF calendar.  Sorry, buddy. You are going to have to be in the dark a little while longer.

12 thoughts on “Calendar Girl

  1. i think taking ivf one day at a time is the only sane way to approach it. it is *way* too overwhelming otherwise! glad to hear you are able to relax a bit before the craziness of the cycle starts up.

  2. Hah! I love the Indiana Jones analogy – all so very true. And if it’s any consolation I tend to get smushed, too.

    I’m here ignoring all this right along with you. You throw me the idol, I throw you the whip girlfriend….

    Love the post!

  3. Wow, you’ve developed some mighty fine coping skills. Very admirable.

    So, what *are* you going wear tomorrow?

    Mrs. X: whatever I am going to wear tomorrow, I know I will look divine. And modest. Really, really modest.

  4. Sometimes on my saddest day, it feels so good just to read your wonderful words. Thank you for your blog.

    Mrs. X: And, it is a wonderful feeling to read a comment such as this. Thank you.

  5. I like that analogy of Indiana Jones and so agree that you have to take it day by day or bite by bite.
    Wishing you well!

  6. Your description of how you approach an IVF cycle now sounded exactly like me. Only maybe a bit saner than me, as I would love to do the next cycle without realizing it’s happening at all. I just want to pretend it away until about a month after the first positive beta (i.e. farther than I’ve ever gotten before).

    Good luck. We’ll be doing this one together, or close to.

  7. All too true. I remember being almost indifferent about my last two IVFs. My thought process was always expecting the worse and not thinking about anything except failures, so that if something good did happen, I’d be ecstatic, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t work out. Best wishes on the next cycle. Love your writing!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s