YOU MAY JUST FEEL A PRICK
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Oh my goodness, I don’t know about feeling a prick but I certainly think someone’s a prick. At the moment he took the sample from my uterine lining it was all I could do not to kick out and kick him in the head. Holy hell it hurt.
If you haven’t guessed already I’m home from the scratch test. I thought I was getting some sort of sedation or pain killer but no such luck. The only good thing was that he charged us a reduced rate, which means I only had to pay the bargain price of AU$190 to have someone inflict pain on me.
For those of you that can, imagine the most painful uterine cramp you’ve ever had. Now imagine having that cramp while having a large stainless steel set of tongs shoved up your pleasure spot. All while you’re being viewed by one midwife, a specialist and a husband that looks like he’s wishing the earth would open up and swallow him whole.
No pressure future child but you’d better be as cute as this kid:
Image source: flickr
If not you’re going back to the deep freeze!
Today I’m trying very hard not to give IVF the big FU. Sometimes I wonder if I would be this keen to have children if it was HUBBY that had to go through all the testing, prodding and drugs. Whether I could watch him have to take on this burden. To be honest, I don’t think I would. I don’t want children that badly.
I hold true, that if this was my decision alone I would have quit the minute they said “You’ll need more tests”. When it gets hard I hit the road. If it wasn’t for HUBBY I would have been 5,000km down that road by now.
I realised only a day or so ago that I’m petrified of the IVF working. Petrified. I am so worried that the life we’d have with children in it would be so much harder and filled with so many more challenges than what we have now that I don’t want that. I know the type of life we’d have without kids. I very much like the life we have now with no children in it. I’m not convinced that I’ll feel the same way about a life with children in it.
I feel like I’m standing at the top of a 10 meter diving platform and I want to go in the water because I think the water looks nice, but I’m not sure about the 10m fall to get to that water and I’ve heard some talk that the water actually isn’t that great. That really the conditions on top of the tower are quite good and I should just stay up here and admire the water from afar.
Are children really that great? Because the thought of going through all of this, of having given up 80% of my stomach, spending all the money, shedding all the tears and being poked and prodded beyond reason to have a teenager turn around and blame me for “ruining their lives” doesn’t fill me with the warm fuzzies. I don’t think I could handle that.
I also fear the thought of becoming one of those parents that yells at their child, “I gave up 80% of my stomach for you!” or “You don’t know the hell I went through to get you”. If that happened I think I’d take myself out the back and put myself down.
Image source: backtoherroots
I have so much worry about what the future holds for us if this works. I really just fear making the wrong choice. I want to know that this will be the right path for us and that I’m not choosing something that will ultimately be our downfall. I’m somewhat paralyzed with that fear.
On the flipside I do things like today. I really didn’t want to have this procedure done, but I needed to have it down in the hope that it will help us reach our goal. So I closed my eyes and ran full pelt at the end of the diving board. It hurt like a bitch, but now an hour on and the pain is subsiding. Come tomorrow it will be a distant memory. (I hope!) In the scheme of things, it’s not the worst procedure I’ve ever had the pleasure of being subjected to, so I should just do as my Dad says; “Take a cement pill and harden the fuck up!”
You know, I could have been a world class ballerina, but I gave up when it got hard. I could have been a flute soloist, but I gave up when the practice interfered with my social life. I could have been a lawyer, but I gave up when I had to start to actually study to pass my exams. I like to give up when things get hard. I actually need someone there cracking the whip and making me do what I don’t want to. I need that motivator. So it might actually turn out to be a good thing that HUBBY really wants children and my desire to not want to disappoint him outweighs my desire to want to quit. I might just end up doing something amazing, like creating a happy healthy child.
I totally empathize. I have days where I just sit and worry that my future child is going to hate me. That I’m going to do something to completely screw up her life. That after the sacrifices we’ve made (which are completely and utterly dwarfed by your journey, certainly), I’m going to wish I’d stayed with the life I knew, one where I stayed up late and bought lots of craft supplies and movies and went to concerts and read books and wore Threadless tees all the time, rather than taking this life that completely and utterly centers around another person.
And you know? I have NO WAY of knowing if I’m right or not. But here I am anyway. And there you are.
You and HUBBY will have an awesome life either way. And the courage and the stamina that it takes to even take these steps you’ve taken is amazing. All you can do is take a deep breath and carry on. Even when you’re being tortured in the name of “medicine.”
(And I’m much amused by your dad’s line about the cement pill. My dad always says “Buck up, chickie,” which is the same sentiment less the f-bomb. 😉
I can understand all the doubting – it is making it all even more difficult – especially having to go through IVF. Wishing you best of luck with the treatments and hope your future child will be even more cuter then the one in the picture! LOL 🙂
I think Tamara has a good point: don’t dwell on the what-ifs of the future and instead focus on the now. By the time you have a teenager who supposedly hates you, most likely you’ll have had many years where they thought you were God and even more where you’re their best friend. 🙂
I’m sorry that you are going through all of this. It seems an awful lot of trouble and turmoil, but you do have a partner in it all and that’s a big thing. I wish I had words of wisdom to make it all better, but I don’t. All I can say is that however it works out, I am sure it’ll be awesome!
Sometimes it’s good to have someone else along for the ride, if only you guys could share the pricks…
wow, there are a lot of dilemmas!
The scratch test sounds horrific – I’m so sorry you had to go through that. IVF is enough of a bitch without stuff like that thrown in.
Having gone through it (5 yrs, 2 miscarriages) and been blessed with my two boys now, I absolutely wouldn’t have changed a thing. They are my life, the reason I am here now, and are just the most amazing creatures.
And yet, if it hadn’t worked that last time, we would have stopped the IVF, and we would have been ok. We were ready for life without children and I know that we would have lived life to the full, probably moving overseas, and travelling (btw, if IVF works for you – FABULOUS – and then move to Canada anyway!!!)
Your specialist sounds like an a-hole. I don’t suppose you’re in a position to change, but I’ll recommend mine in a second.
Good luck <3
I’ve said it before and I will say it again….. I have huge amounts of respect for you. I honestly don’t think I would be able to do what you are doing darlin’. I am not sure if this is the right thing to say to you but I am going to say it anyway – if everything aligns right and it all works out, it WILL be the best thing you have done, trust me.
I too worry about what my boys will grow up to be like but I think that I need to focus on the now and give them all the direction I can possibly give them – I think that is all you can do.
Thinking of you gorgeous girl xx