The Injection Site

Injections and needles just weren’t my thing and they still aren’t.

Needles make me pass out even after months of stabbing myself sometimes three times in one night to get the correct dosage.

Every night at or around 7 pm I would go upstairs play classical music, and dim the lights in the bedroom as if it were a spa and I was getting a massage. I iced the injection site every night for 5-10 minutes before beginning the very hesitant steps towards the injection. I loaded the pen, applied the alcohol swab and let it air dry before laying back on the bed. Pinching as much skin near the belly as I could and as hard as I could tolerate I would count down from 10 and then stab myself with the needle.

Slowly injecting the medicine into the bruised areas on either side of my belly button. Keeping the needle in a minute after the medicine was fully injected before pulling the damn thing out. I’d lay there in disbelief of what I was subjecting my body to. It just seemed wrong. I wasn’t curing a disease like cancer or aids I was forcing mother nature to give me the miracle of life. It seemed wrong at least to me.

I’m sure the pen cost a pretty penny maybe I could sell it on the infertility black market.

Mother’s Day: The Bittersweet Reality

Yesterday, I thought of everyone who follows this blog or has liked a post. I thought of basically anyone in the world dealing with infertility who has to face Mother’s Day. It’s a hard day. Happy faces of pregnant friends and family members on Facebook or seeing a mother and her infant at a restaurant brings the reality of being without child to the forefront. The reality is bittersweet for most because we want to celebrate the day with our own moms but are saddened by the reality of our situation.

Last year was even harder for me. It was the first time after deciding to live childfree that I celebrated Mother’s Day with my mom. In an attempt to avoid restaurants cluttered with happy families, I invited her for a picnic in a favorite park. We chatted while eating and even got a little knitting in before leaving. It was relaxing and yet still made me sad.

This year my mom and I got pedicures and shopped at JoAnn Fabrics for a project her and my dad are working on. I told her how I felt about the day. That it’s bittersweet. That a friend of mine who conceived via IUI sent me a message saying she was thinking of me. She too felt saddened in past years by her inability to conceive, bear a child and finally become a mom. I appreciated her thoughtfulness and consideration of our situation.

My mom didn’t realize I felt this way about Mother’s Day. She couldn’t have because she is a mom herself. It made me realize just how alone we sometimes feel. And I wanted you to know I thought of you. I hope you had a nice day. That the sun was shining down on you wherever you are in the world.

Life on Hold

Sure you’d love to take that trip to Hawaii but you tell yourself and your pleading spouse or partner that you should really set that money aside for when you’re pregnant. Of course you’re not pregnant yet but you’re hopeful you will be soon. That half marathon you wanted to train for and run is now put on hold. You stay home in the evenings to save money instead of spending time with friends. You avoid physical activity and coffee and feta cheese because you know the next cycle will be the one. You start eating organic food, drinking herbal tea concoctions prescribed by your acupuncturist and you stop running completely even though it’s the only time you feel slightly normal.

Putting your life on hold is the last thing you should do. Maybe instead of worrying about saving you should be careless and go on that trip to Hawaii. Maybe just maybe you’ll conceive your first child while on that vacation. And you’ll be thankful you went and didn’t put your life on hold like I did. Continue with life as usual. Don’t let the excitement and hopeful desire of wanting to be pregnant outweigh what you want to do now. Live in the now. Tomorrow will come and it will bring joy and excitement and maybe just maybe a little bundle too.

Don’t Tell

Looking back 12 months ago…My husband didn’t mention a friend who moved away was pregnant. And he forgot to mention our neighbor across the street had the baby. I didn’t find out until I came to my own conclusions from her car barely leaving the parking lot for over two weeks. It hurt to know he felt he had to protect me. And at the same time I’m glad he did. He may not completely register how difficult this experience has been and most likely will continue to be for me as a woman and daughter, but he did what he thought was best at the time.

Mother Teresa and everything but the kitchen sink

Thoughts fly through our minds like race cars.

Let’s sell everything and travel the world working for our unfounded business. 

But what kind of business would we start. We brainstormed ideas by writing them on the chalkboard in our kitchen. Nothing landed firmly so we quickly tossed the idea.

Buy a convertible roadster before our other two cars are paid off and park it in the visitors section of our town-home community.

We couldn’t agree on a convertible nor did we have the funds so this was a no-go.

Volunteer for the Boys and Girls Club or Girls on the Run non-profit organizations.

This one is still floating around but seeing children still makes me sad for what isn’t ours. I’ll pass for now.

Quit my job and do what I love while not necessarily making any money.

But then how would we pay our mortgage or take a trip to the beach. If only I could make money knitting while sitting on the couch listening to music.

These thoughts seem rational at the time and even exciting but we don’t take the first step. Because after all, we realize how irrational they truly are and that they’re just a result of our childless situation.

The need to be motherly, to solve the worlds problems, to do something completely opposite from everything we’ve ever done to this point is just part of the healing process. Or so I’ve come to realize that from reading articles like this one.

Creating our roadmap is the struggle we face now. Looking at our future through the lens of nonparents puts a different spin on things. What does it all mean? We’re not sure but we hope to figure it out or else you might find us in a foreign country with only the clothes on our backs.