I got a job now and started working the 1st of this month so TTC has been pushed out of my mind(thank G-d, I was sinking into a deep depression according to my mother). That was until today, when going through my pill drawer I saw that I had a bottle of provera waiting to be taken. In all honesty, after the whole incident with my cyst and losing my ovary I’m more than terrified of taking ANY fertility medication again. Terrified is just an understatment of how I actually feel. The fertility clinic has actually not even called me to check up on me or anything. (How nice?) Actually, they did check on me a few times, but not about my health, it was to see when I would be paying them back for their services. They, of course, make enough money to not give a flying fuck whether or not I show up again since they are the only option in town. I’m not really sure what’s going to happen with hubs and I’s dream to be parents. He is still hopeful and consumed in denial as he was when we started our journey back on August 16th of 2015.
I believe it was friday night? Technically saturday around 3-4am I woke up with an odd feeling. I turned to hubs, said “I dont feel good, I think I’m going to throw up.” I hadnt finished those words yet when I feel myself run to the bathroom (which thank G-d is 4 feet away from me) and threw up all over the toilet. Inside and out. I did another round of vomiting a few hours later followed with heavy (sorry for the tmi..but later you will see why its kinda important?) diarrhea all night. Saturday throughout the day, let’s say, I became one with my bed and frequent visitor with the toilet. I had a full-on headache and major diarrhea(I’m sure it was due to the undercooked steak I had friday for lunch at work), but yea, apparently both my mother and husband were prompted to ask if I was pregnant due to the fact that I threw up. If you know me, I have a strong stomach. When I mean strong, I mean the type of strong to see human brain splatter and probably make a comment on how it looks like uncooked chicken fat (sorry if I’ve messed chicken up for anyone, I graduated paramedic school and have seen many things I wouldn’t have survived without a gruesome sense of humor and strong stomach). Thing is, having a strong stomach doesnt really fall into the category on options as to why I threw up and when did diarrhea becomea pregnancy symptom? Wouldnt I be constipated if anything?. Vomiting is just a very, very rare occurrence for me. Last time I threw up was in november as I came off of the anesthesia. I am not pregnant. I wish, but I’m not.
Husband’s mom called not long ago and asked us how we were doing . She told us “take care of the baby please!” as we were hanging up. I just looked at hubs in a confused face and he just shrugged at me not knowing what she was talking about. We ignored it and hung up. I now just try to steer away from my hubs when I know he is on the phone with his family in fear that I will be reminded once more. At work, just so happens that everytime a pregnant woman comes in, or people with children come in, I’m the one who’s usually available to help out(gee, thanks destiny? G-d? Whoever loves to see me in pain?). Their kids try talking to me and other coworkers come to say “oh how cute blah blah blah” and I’m the bitter bitch sitting there grimacing or being awkward because of my own pains. I dont even know how to act around kids anymore. As they leave I’m left holding back tears because just sight of children brings back memories of dreams I once had. That isnt even all, coworkers bring their kids to work sometimes and as their introducing their families and children I cannot help but feel my face give them a glower look. I dont mean to, but I guess “bitter bitch” has become my personality when encountered by children and pregnant women.
The other day in the car I was talking to hubs about something, I’m not really sure what it was but he just said, “I love being a father to Nebula(our dog)” and I literally just burst in tears. Like is this how desperate we have become? No offence to my baby nebula but the first thing I thought was, “Us not having the choice to have kids made us desperately substitute it for an animal?”. In all technicalities, yes, she is an animal.
Isnt she the darnest in her little dress?
My “nursery” has become a detestable pile of over priced junk that I will more than likely never use for obvious reasons. At least thats what my mom keeps reminding me. She keeps saying things like ” we dont even use that room, its filled with too many things and when guests come over, they cant sleep there because you have filled it up with things you will not be using now.” Idk why she keeps reminding me that I’m not going to be using those things right now. I didnt think I would have to be trying this long. I thought I repsonded well to meds and just needed a little push in the right direction, but as it shows, almost 2 years into this shitty journey and all I have to show for my dreams is one non-functioning ovary and a room full of baby things for a baby that does not exist. Talk about dissapointments.
My father about a month ago started pressuring me about the insurance(I’m under his insurance till I’m 24?, I think) telling me how I need to start hurrying since trump is going to make having insurance less affordable for some of us. I believe I did hear how his health plan did get rejected, but I didnt pay attention enough as I was working when I hear it. Anyways, that is the least of my worries. What bothered me the most was the change in health plan that occured in this new year. Instead of being covered 100% like I was last year, I’m now covered only 90% and having to pay 10% of all treatments & diagnostics… anyone with infertility KNOWS that 10% adds up to thousands… which sadly I dont have lying around. Looked more into hubs insurance, apparently he will need to pay about $10k-11k for his insurance to cover him for anything, so that is a piece of shit insurance.
More than often I find myself just crying over my lost dream to be a mother. I told hubs that my heart has given up. Mentally, I’ve just run out of options. Even though G- d creates miracles(which I’ve witnessed), I’ve also just lost complete faith. I am angry. I am bitter. I’m not sure how many more chemicals my body can take before I end up losing my remaining ovary. When do you know that your journey has ended?