The worst secret club ever.

I tend to want to blog for one of two reasons: I’m excited and want to share, or I’m down and out and want to vent. This post falls under the latter category.

Let me preface by saying this: I hate whining, I don’t like being weak, I don’t like admitting to weakness that lasts longer than one blog post. I allow myself one post at a time and that’s it for a while. So here’s my one post.

I think my follicle has frozen in time. It’s CD 23, and still, no positive OPK. First of all, the nurse on Friday swore I’d get my smiley face yesterday, as my follicle was 16 mm on Friday. Secondly, even if my follicle is just growing really, extremely slowly, I don’t want to ovulate this late! It’s too late! There’s a reason they say that ovulating really late isn’t the best thing. The latest I’ve ovulated (out of the 2 times, ha) is CD 24. But I got my smiley face for that cycle on CD 22 and 23. Now, with no smiley on CD 23, I wonder, is it ever going to come? Has my body played yet another cruel trick on me – forming and developing a follicle, giving me some signs of ovulation, getting my hopes up for this first IUI, and then deciding to freeze there? Apparently, that’s a thing.

What will come of this? Well, I’m calling tomorrow and demanding an ultrasound Wednesday. I’m sure I’ll go in, they’ll see my follicle is right where they left it Friday, and then I’ll need to stair-step again, getting more Clomid before this cycle is over. Then, I’ll have this super giant follicle, but I’ll have to wait another 20+ days to get it. Doesn’t it say something if you have to stair-step two cycles in a row? And on different dosages of Clomid, no less? That’s a sign. One round of Clomid in a cycle isn’t enough – of either 50 or 100. I need something else. I do know about those injectables – maybe that’s something they would give to me?

But either way – and here comes my rant – it’s not freaking fair! Not that I’m not ovulating, though that isn’t either. It’s not fair that I have to go through any of this. It’s not fair that any of you have to. It’s not fair that this rough little bump in my life has come during a time of pure bliss for seemingly everyone else I know, that they have gotten pregnant all at the very same time. You know, if everyone else was struggling to get pregnant, I’m sure it wouldn’t sting quite as much. And I don’t wish that on them. But every Facebook post, every corner I turn, even my relatives continue to hint – why?

Easter was – well, okay. Not one of my bests. Mostly because my favorite reason for Easter (I sound horrible saying this but it’s quite true) is the guiltless reason to eat copious amounts of candy. Peeps, jelly beans, Cadbury cream eggs, peanut butter cups, anything with dark chocolate or marshmellow – I love it. I love it all. After ice cream, candy was my next favorite food group. This was my first Easter sugar-free. That is, sugar-free, gluten-free, dairy(ish)-free, grain-free, aka Paleo diet. Sure, I splurged on N’s sweet potatoes with splenda-infused brown sugar (Oh My!), and even indulged in a few sugar-free jelly beans (thanks, Mom, and Russell Stover), but it wasn’t the same.

Visiting my dad’s side of the family, whom I rarely see, I got a nice tummy-pat from my 80-something year old grandmother. Granted, she’s only about as tall as my stomach, but still – is she saying I’m fat? Or is she patting it to indicate that I should be pregnant right about now? Am I paranoid? Probably, but can you blame me?

At my in-law’s, a family friend of theirs commented as I held one of my dogs in my arms, “See? You don’t even need to have kids.” Now – this is a nice man. I’ve continued to say, regarding the 5,000 people who’ve made dumb comments like that to me in the last 6 months, all of these people mean well, and are nice. I even like some of them. But why the dumb comment at the Easter dinner table? Hmm?? I responded with, “Well….not exactly.” He must’ve been told by my MIL, or N’s aunt. They know, but I certainly haven’t personally told anyone else in his family about my struggles. Why else would he have said that if he didn’t know? So, what,  is my infertility the big Easter dinner table secret?

The truth is, I don’t want to hold these secrets anymore. As it is, I’ve told everyone I feel close to and the entire online world. And even that isn’t enough. I don’t want to keep this negative thing in my life around anymore – I want it out. If I’m going to keep any secrets at all, I only want ONE specific secret. And you all know what that is.

Daryl put it perfectly:  ” This community, in particular, feels more like a secret society, one to which having a set of unlucky circumstances is the only password.  One to which all the members wish they didn’t belong.”

I agree – and while everyone around me gets to head into the “we’re over the moon with excitement!” stage – I’m missing out on a rite of passage. It’s called motherhood. I’m stuck in a very weird place between an over-grown teenager and a young-looking, young-acting woman. Remember my Peeta celebrity crush? He’s 19 years old! The real issue going on there is that I either want to be back in college (with N, of course) living out my golden years without a care in the world, or with a baby in my arms. There is no happy medium. Some of you have described your possible ability to grow old without kids. For me, it’s not an option. We will exhaust absolutely everything to have a child, including adoption. Therefore – I know I’ll have kids. I’m not saying I won’t. Some way or another, it’ll happen. But this waiting-in-limbo thing, it’s horrible, painful, upsetting at times. It just flat out sucks.

And I have one other concern. Can you sense the bitterness, the poutiness, the unhappiness I display on a regular basis? The jealousy, the rage, the irritation? When I get pregnant, is that going to go away? Am I going to retreat back to my old self, happy-go-lucky with just a dash of being a bit high-strung? Am I going to find the positive in all the little things, stopping and smelling the flowers, if you will? Will I be a better listener to my friends, because I’ll be able to give them more of my brain space? Will I shower N with the attention and love he deserves, without ever having to fake happiness? Or have I done some irrevocable damage, and this will be the new me? I fear that this mutter-under-my-breath type of personality that has taken shape in the last year is becoming permanent, and I won’t even like to be around myself.

Okay, I’m done. As usual, I do feel a bit better. And after all this whining and ranting, maybe I’ll go and get a smiley face tomorrow. You never know. Sometimes you just need to get things off your chest! Thankfully, I know you guys have been there; you’ve been through it and then some. I only wish that none of us have had to.  No offense, but I want to belong to that other club, not this one.

Now, please, lil’ folly, please grow and turn into something hopeful.

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9 thoughts on “The worst secret club ever.

  1. Not-So-Fertile Girl says:

    Good luck on your smiley. I told Hubby that I wanted to switch to another brand of OPK’s b/c that damn little smiley face has become my nemisis while I wait day in, day out for it it appear!
    I really felt in your last few paragraphs that I was reading my own brain. I, too, wonder if this bitter, sad, angry person is going to stay with me when this phase is over. We are also not willing to live a life without children, even if that means adoption, eventually. So, this phase won’t last forever, even though it feels now as though it will never end. But I find myself struggling to figure out who I’ll be when that day comes. What will I think about? What will I talk about? I suppose the answer is “my kids,” but it’s just too difficult to imagine. It feels as though I am losing touch with the don’t-know-I’m-infertile-yet me. I wish I could go back to college, or especially the 1st year after graduating when I first met Hubby, still felt passionate about my job, and had few enough worries that I could still focus on having fun and tell her to milk it for all it’s worth while it lasts. I would also tell her to start being irresponsible with her birth control pills and get this show on the road way sooner! 😛

  2. Izzy says:

    I’ve never seen that damn smiley…. not even the month we conceived. Its evil I tell you!

    As for who you’ve become… I can only share how its been for me. I feel forever changed but not quite as bitter as before. I’ve known I was pregnant for 2 months now and slowly I feel like I can smile instead of cringe at pregnant bellies and find some light in lots of gloom. I was sick this morning and a colleague was comiserating saying she would never want to get pregnant again…. and I kind of huffed and said a comment about how hard I worked to get here and would never take it for granted. I definitely don’t think we’ll ever stop appreciating what it is to make a child. Some just don’t get how lucky they are…. but when your time comes the bitterness will likely fade slowly. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for a positive opk…. try testing twice a day too!

  3. Jenna says:

    I have to admit….I skimmed this post, but I do agree the IF club SUCKS! It is the worst club ever.

    I’m happy they are doing ultrasounds to check your follie size, that is a start. My RE said that OPKs are pretty much crap and not to bother with them so don’t worry about not getting that smiley face. You never know. Something to consider is adding a trigger shot to the protocol. Basically when you have follies over 16, you can do a trigger shot and you will likely ovulate within 36 hours so it helps with timing. Trigger shots are usually protocol with an IUI, but you can do one without IUI too. Good luck!!!!

    hugs!

  4. Rachel says:

    I wouldn’t trust the OPK…it’s possible that the time of day you tested missed the surge (unless you tested a few times throughout the day). Definitely demand an ultrasound!

  5. queenelizabethi says:

    I know exactly what you mean. This whole process has been so time-consuming and self-absorbing that I don’t know what I’ll be like on the other side. I just know I don’t like who I am and what I’m feeling in the midst of all of it. We all want to get out of this club and become part of the other one. Thinking of you.

  6. jennymeg says:

    I was sad.. And angry .. .. And bitter .. And jealous.. I became this angry little green monster. I hated everything and everyone [pregnant]. I became such a horrible, angry, bitter jealous person that it was scary. It made me sad. I would cry about something and then I would also be crying because of the way I felt about it. I would have all these wild and fiercely intense feelings [sometimes about people I barely knew] and I felt so incredibly guilty … . But I couldn’t help it. That’s where I was and that was how I felt. I think it’s important to remember that this is a very emotional, personal and difficult time for people. They need to be allowed to feel their feelings, without judgement. You are valid in your thoughts and feelings. Now, that’s not to say that I went out and actually told any of these people what I felt/thought. No. I kept it to myself, occassionally shared with the hubby [who never really seemed to understand, but tried], or vented on my blog. Having a ‘safe place’ to feel and talk it out is important. I don’t think you should feel badly or worry about it [although I completely understand why you would. I did! I was so afraid I would always be that way.]. I have mellowed a lot in the past few months, but there are still those comments that people make that get under my skin and make me boil. Like your commenter above, I generally try to find a nice way to set them straight and to let them know how incredibly blessed I feel and how much of a miracle each and every baby is [I commonly talk about my m/c, which makes people incredibly uncomfortable. But I don’t care, it’s a part of me.]. No one should ever take it for granted, but sadly there are so many who do. Because they don’t know, and they never will. And sometimes, I know this may be hard to hear now… But sometimes I think that is their loss. The fact that they’ll never fully appreciate the magnitude and gravity of how miraculous and special each conception is. How very lucky they are. So, I’m not the same crazy, green-eyed monster I was before… I’ve def mellowed. But I do still, and always will, have very strong opinions and convictions because of what we’ve been through. You’ll never lose that. It will get better though. I promise. XO, baby dust. Can’t wait to hear about your IUI. Best of luck.

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