I’ve been stabbed!

I just got back from my mini-vacation to Maine to visit my grandfather. It’s always a nice time, made especially for the ultimate combination: relaxation and over-eating. I managed to snap one picture with my phone:

Though I didn’t actually go in the lake (that would be too much exercise), I enjoyed the view. My husband and I did go down there once on the night of the 4th, enjoying the neighbors’ illegal firework display. This was the first trip to my grandfather’s house that I have been gluten- and sugar-free, which I knew would be a challenge. My grandfather’s wife, from Alabama, is a great cook, but was very understanding that I didn’t eat any of her desserts. And since I knew that avoiding coconut cream pie, pecan pie, brownies, and sugar cookies wouldn’t be easy, N kindly baked me two gluten-free, sugar-free desserts before we left: a “whoopie pie” cake, and coconut chocolate chip cookies. Both were very good. Of course, I didn’t take a picture of either one but if anyone wants the recipes, I can send you the links. The “chocolate” in the cookies was carob chips – a new item for me that we could only find at Whole Foods, but they were tasty.

Though I do have to say, there’s nothing like being completely gluttonous, eating every luxurious food in sight until you can’t breathe to motivate you to lose weight. Being gluten-free and sugar-free has not helped me lose weight at ALL. But then, I knew it wouldn’t. I know exactly how I need to lose weight. It’s a simple formula, of which exercise is the smallest part. I need to cut my portions in half, at least, stock up on veggies, and drink lots of water in between meals. It’s that simple. Why I haven’t just done it already, I’m not sure. Too much on my plate (literally). Too many “can’t”s in my brain, and I haven’t felt like I could take on another one. I can’t get pregnant, I can’t ovulate, I can’t just have sex to produce a baby like so many others, I can’t have gluten, I can’t have sugar, I can’t have more than a little dairy…and I can’t eat more than my husband does. I shouldn’t. At this point, stuffed full of cookies, I’m motivated. Let’s see if I can actually do this, and stop talking about it already.

In other news, I have successfully stabbed myself in the stomach three times. I officially feel like I’m seeking out fertility treatments. Clomid was an easy pill to swallow…I could almost forget why I was taking it. Getting shots in the stomach that need to be refrigerated, dropping the needles into my sharps container afterwards, along with every other day blood tests reminds me that this is no joke – this is the real deal. The first time, I was nervous, and wanted my husband to do it. He agreed, but right before it was time, he sort of chickened out, and I decided I needed to man up anyway. The actual stabbing part didn’t hurt at all – like, not even a little. But while the needle was hanging out in my stomach, as I pressed the release on the pen and then counted to 5 – that hurt a bit. Yesterday, for my second shot, I don’t think I had a steady hand. The pen must have been wobbly, because it bled a bit and I have a small little bruise there now. Today’s third shot – no blood, no bruise, no pain. I must be getting better. If it wasn’t such a weird thing to be doing, it might actually be fun. Maybe I should’ve been a nurse.

One of the medications I was prescribed was on back order from the company located in Maine, and I need to take it with me to my appointment on Monday, so conveniently enough, we swung through Portland on our way home and actually stopped at the pharmacy. Now I have all of my meds: Follistim, Ganirelix, Ovidrel, and Crinone. Obviously I know what the purpose of the Follistim is, and I know the Ovidrel is the trigger shot. Crinone is the progesterone, right? How much of a pain in the ass is that? And I have no clue what the purpose for the Ganirelix is. Anyone?

I have a ton of future blog posts rolling around in my brain, but they will have to wait. If my ovaries respond (not too well, though) and I have myself a nice IUI, this will be my 4th attempt at conception. I’m allowing myself just the smallest bit of excitement and an even smaller dose of hope. But regardless – could this be it?

 

Hope for Clomid

So this thought has been spinning around in my head for a few days, and that’s how I know it’s time to share.

I am, of course, excited to be starting Clomid soon. Really, really excited. I’ve also been easily over-sharing the details of my infertility to people outside of the online blogging world, in real life. This hasn’t always been the best decision. I’ve just been in my own little world, anxiously waiting for my first treatment to my anovulation.

Recently, after declaring out loud, “I can’t wait [for Clomid]! I’m so excited – I just want to do this already!” someone said in response, “Well, you’re happy to start the process, you mean. It’s probably not going to be that easy.”

I’ve actually had a few people say something like this to me – so it’s not just this one. The person who said this particular comment to me did not mean this to sound – pessimistic. She’s actually been very supportive, as she had gone through similar experiences a few years ago, which has, at this time, not had a happy ending. I know she wasn’t trying to be negative; she was trying to be realistic and to help me keep an even head. I believe now that she was probably talking more to herself than to me.

Here’s the thing: After blogging (seemingly endlessly) about waiting, and patience, and being full of unanswered questions, I finally have an answer: anovulation, and a treatment: Clomid. I realize that it is my very first treatment to this problem. I also realize that of course, there’s probably a pretty decent chance that it won’t work, and I’ll have to move my treatments to the next level, IUI. Who knows, that might not work and I’ll be moving to IVF. I know all this.

If I don’t have hope that Clomid is going to work (and maybe naively, I do), then how could I possibly go through this process and keep my sanity intact? I’m not saying that if this doesn’t work I’ll be completely surprised, but I have to hope it will. And I do. In fact, I hope it works in the first very round. Doubtful? Yes. But I’m going to hope for it anyway.

I guess what I’m saying is this: in my opinion, if you’re going through fertility treatments, you have to be positive. If you aren’t, and you’re reminding yourself constantly that this probably won’t work, we’ll have to try something else – well then, you’ll drive yourself crazy. I am telling myself that Clomid is going to help me get pregnant so that I can have something to hope for while on Clomid. Otherwise, what would be the point?

To all of my new blogging friends who are at any step in the fertility treatments process, how did you handle comments like this? Did you keep positive thoughts through each type of treatment?